Thursday, May 2, 2013

"Language... has created the word 'loneliness' to express the pain of being alone. And it has created the word 'solitude' to express the glory of being alone." - Paul Tillich

I noticed an unsettling sensation in my body recently. After spending several glorious days with some very special beings, loneliness was my new found companion. Being careful (mindful) of the stories the mind was spinning, I asked myself: why must the emotion of sadness accompany my solitude?

While stepping back and focusing on awareness, it just doesn't make sense... In comparison to many, I appear to have so much. I never go hungry. I have more articles of clothing than I could ever need, and most of my bills are paid. Can I still separate my true self from this sinking feeling that on paper makes absolutely no sense? I give myself the same pep talks as most. I even went for a 3 mile run in near 100 degree heat this afternoon. Why? Because once a friend told me, "depression can't hit a moving target." He didn't mention the aim of heatstroke!

So I try and sit quietly to observe my thoughts. But I struggle to stop dwelling on the situation of a very close friend recently wronged in a court of law. Our society claims to protect women and children, yet men may still threaten ex-girlfriends with violence, and not even a slap on the hand is received. No one should have to live in fear of physical violence from others- not even children. If you think it's an acceptable practice to hit another human being in order for them to learn, I hope you don't mind someone bending you over the hood of your car and spanking your ass the next time you're caught speeding.

Spare the rod and spoil the child? Spare me this antiquated and scary thinking. Aren't we supposed to be evolving somewhat as a society? We don't all gather together and witness hangings in the town square these days. It's not okay to enslave other human beings. And we now know we shouldn't sleep with our cousins and expect healthy offspring.

This may sound like complaining to you- and most likely it is- but today, I could give a fuck less. Please stop reading if you're offended by mere words, yet continue to be ok with daily societal evidence of evil and archaic behavior steeped in sexism, homophobia and racism. Maybe you've outstayed your welcome. Perhaps with your body, these expressions of hate will decompose also. I could give less than 1 tenth of 2 shits what you think, since I write this blog for myself as an exercise in dumping my resentments like excrement into this carpeted sewer posing as an intelligent society.

Mindful? Oh yes, very- I realize I'm being extremely immature. If I were my thoughts, I would take a baseball bat to some inanimate object, and later I would deeply regret that action. Instead I write. The practice of Vipassana, one of the oldest forms of meditation, instructs me to see things how they are. Right now I'm seeing red. It's a funny thing too, because I felt blue when I started this post. The color yellow comes to mind as I wonder if I'll even publish this once I've finished my immature tirade.


"Pain can only feed on pain. Pain cannot feed on joy. It finds it quite indigestible." -Eckhart Tolle (from The Power of Now)


I've also recently heard Oprah Winfrey state, "when you know better, you do better." Surely I know I'm not really alone. I have so many who love me, but in contrast to the recent joyous visit by my loved ones, I'm now witnessing sadness. These angry thoughts will not turn violent; but rather, physical exercise and writing will lead me to more awareness. I continue monitoring the feelings I've associated with my dear friend's experience in court.

This too shall pass.

Just like the happy pink cloud feelings we have and wish to hold on to, nothing is permanent. The only thing that we can ever trust and count on to be consistent is change. Safety is a temporary false concept. In this country we scream bloody murder when weapons fall into dangerous hands, and yet we're surprised the killing machines we've sold to the rest of the world find their way home.

"Overseas weapons sales by the United States totaled $66.3 billion last year, or more than three-quarters of the global arms market, valued at $85.3 billion in 2011. Russia was a distant second, with $4.8 billion in deals." (from a report prepared by the nonpartisan Congressional Research Service, a division of the Library of Congress. The annual study was written by Richard F. Grimmett and Paul K. Kerr.)

Check out this fun-fact: the US Defense Budget is larger than the next 9 developed countries in the world COMBINED. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_countries_by_military_expenditures).

No wonder we all walk around looking at each other out of the sides of our our faces. We, the people project this image of toughness, yet we weep like willows when a few school children are mowed down right before recess. Sound cold and callous to say? Then go and visit the Democratic Republic of the Congo where thousands of women and children are slaughtered each week (most likely by guns acquired from the land of the free).

Okay, okay, thankfully I don't write these posts in one swoop, and after having taken the time to sit with my thoughts and feelings, this too has passed... not the facts, just the feelings. I must recognize, and take an honest assessment of my personal inventory. I still cling to feelings, base my personality on temporary emotions and wallow in the mind made stories. Herein lies the point of all this: unless I'm willing to be rigorously honest with myself, I cannot peel away these conditioned types of thinking and behaving. In meditation practice we speak of the rivers of joy and the ocean of sorrows. Both must be examined in order to see the middle way.


"You take the good, you take the bad, you take them both and there you have: the facts of life." (From "The Facts of Life" TV show. Theme music written by: Al Burton, Gloria Loring, Alan Thicke)


Last night I was watching one of my favorite webcasts, "Buddha at the Gas Pump," hosted by Rick Archer. During this particular episode the guest, Bentinho Massaro, had much trouble controlling his breathing while he was overcome with joy. It was a beautiful thing to witness. He even told the host he loved him. And yet, it reminded me of the opposite end of the spectrum at which my emotions currently fell. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qS1fL4bDV_s

If you are busy and can't watch the entire interview (but of course you are mindful of your impatience), feel free to skip ahead to 56:07 of the program. You will miss out on the context, but I understand. We are all very busy and there's probably another important zombie show, vampire romance novel or sporting event that requires our attention. In the meantime, I'll go and meditate, since I continue to confuse sarcasm and wit with intelligence or wisdom.

Still sitting, often running, and somehow always practicing,

Carl

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