Now, I Am, and That’s Enough

I’m amazed at how I’ve vacillated during my search for truth.  I don’t even want to call it a “search for truth”, because I’ve then identified a cause and become a crusader for it.  It’s ebbed and flowed from gentle curiosity to intense introspection, and I’ve questioned almost everything in the process.  I had a bit of a reality check today, in that I had a job interview with a pretty neat company for a position that’s not really clearly defined.  The P & VP said they knew what they wanted, but they really didn’t know what they wanted.  Oh, yeah, I’m PERFECT for that!  So my mind’s been on other things of late, like paying the bills, and eating.

I knew I was going to be laid off for almost two years before it finally happened, and I had at least a six month advanced warning as to the exact date of the good deed to come.  I can’t tell you how overwhelmingly grateful I am for that.  I’ve noticed throughout my life that I’ve always been taken care of somehow.  I’ve been able to put a lot of trust into the mechanisms at work in my life (whatever that means) to the point where I very rarely have bothered myself with worrying about the outcome of whatever situation presented itself, no matter how grave it may have seemed.  I can always say, and have always said, that it will all work out.  It ALWAYS has… no exception.  So, from that standpoint, I understand that something is at work here of which I’ve been able to realize I have absolutely no control, nor do I care to begin to establish control.  It all works perfectly, regardless of how much I may sweat, or fret, or gnaw at my fingernails.  Nothing I can ever do will prevent what will be from being.  It is exactly, and only exactly, how it should be… ALWAYS.

So now, about this job…  I felt good about the interview.  It lasted for over four hours, and I’ll be back next week for round two.  I know I can do it, the company is great, and the people are genuinely down-to-earth.  What to do?  Nothing!  All I can do is watch it unfold and know that, no matter what happens, it will happen exactly as it should.  My wife asked me if I was anxious, or excited about it.  I told her I wasn’t before actually checking what I really felt.  I’ve thought about it some more, and I don’t have any anxiety or nervousness about it at all.  It would be great to work there, no doubt.  But is it what the universe has in store for me?  No clue.  I will be comfortable with whatever happens.  It’s just amazing when I look back at my life and see where I never had any control over any of this.  It all just happened, and I was just there, along for the ride, so to speak.  Don’t get me wrong, I’m very good at whatever I’ve ever done as a profession, but that’s never all there is to it.  You should read “Outliers“, by Malcolm Gladwell.  You’ll see how much the environment and timing have to do with success.  All true in my case, although I’m far from the success of those cited in his book.

All that to say that I’m back on the negative cycle of the search-for-truth sinewave.  I’ve clung to Advaita because it rings more true within me than does any other “religion” or philosophy.  I’ve read so much (probably too much), and have asked countless questions to those who have realized to the point of being able to reliably predict the responses.  Already knowing the “answers” sort of keeps you from even asking the questions anymore.  All that’s left is the final “ah-ha” moment for me.  And, as things have proven to go for me thus far, it will come, or it won’t, and it will be perfectly, and EXACTLY as it should be.

Will I continue to write?  Probably, but I doubt it will be as frequent as every day.  I’ve become a bit more introspective this past week, and it seems to me that that’s exactly where I need to be right now.  Why doubt the process that has guided me through 40 years of sucking air?  Why anticipate?  Why not trust what I already know?  I exist until I don’t.  Now, I am, and that’s enough.

Falling Away From Me

What is the experience of enlightenment?  Or is it awakening, or realization, or satori?  I don’t think the name matters except for whatever people are used to hearing.  We all have our ideas about it.  I certainly do.  Is it an experience at all?  Ramana Maharshi would tell you that if it is an experience, then that’s not it.  The first line of the Tao Te Ching says:

The way that can be experienced is not true; the world that can be constructed is not real.

I can’t seem to think of my search ending any other way than that of a life-changing experience.  I don’t expect the ground to shake, nor do I expect to levitate off the floor and see visions of Jesus and Buddha.  From all that I’ve managed to read about it, I expect that the only thing that will change will be my perspective, or the standpoint from which I see the world.  I expect that there will be a subtle, yet profound, shift in the way I see things.  I don’t expect my life to change.  I will still have a family, and I will still need to work to pay the bills.  The sun will still come up in the morning, and I will most likely still want coffee to start my days off with.  But I expect that I will see it all for what it really is.  Those that I read about (see my blog roll) all say the same things over and over again about what it’s like and what there really is, but they also admit that words can’t possibly describe what that is.  All words can ever even hope to do is to point to what it is, that’s it.  So these words, called “pointers” are all us mortals are given to hopefully break through and finally see.

There’s always this: “There’s nothing to get, you are that already.”  And, “What is searching is that which is sought.”  Ramana Maharshi is fond of saying that you are already that, meaning there’s nothing to do… you are – that’s it!  Nisargadatta Maharaj was very direct with that as well.  Both asking followers if they can deny their very existence.  Of course not.  I exist… I am.  No doubt about it.  I am!  Now what?  I want to put a “what” at the end of that – “I am WHAT?”  But, from what I understand, it should just be, “I am… that’s it.”  OK, I am… that’s it.  But now what?  That’s it my ass!  What do you… oh nevermind.  I know what the answers will be.

I just lost all of what I typed from this point forward due to some unreliable AT&T equipment.  I’m getting really frustrated with those clowns.  But I digress.  Forget it… I was just ranting anyway.

An Off Day: The Politicians, Growth of Government, and IRAN?

I’ve been caught up in politics and Iran today, and just finding myself all pissy about everything.  I’ve thought about starting another blog that solely focuses on politics because all of those pathetic losers just friggin’ piss me off!  What a sham!  And then Iran… what the hell?

I have given some thought to my “spiritual” questionings, but just a tad.  Despite how it might sound from my entries, I’m not all-consumed by the questions, or my search for the truth.  There are days, however, when it’s a bit more intense than others.  It’s sort of like the evening news.  If there are a lot of crazy things going on around me, then I don’t pay attention to the subtleties I ponder when nothing at all is happening.  You know what it’s like on a slow news day.  Nothing much to report on, so they come up with some crap about a local vegetable garden, or an orphaned puppy.

I admit, I’ve gotten caught up in politics since the presidential race.  I would classify myself as a libertarian (if I must have a label), and I cannot stand what is happening to our country, and so soon!  The government is taking over our lives, and nothing, or nobody, is apparently able to stop it.  My solace?  Maybe it’s not real!  Why am I getting so wrapped up in it?  What do I expect that I’m going to be able to do about it?  Does anything need to be done about it?  Sorry, but I’ve gotten pulled into the news stories, and the pull is relentless.

Well, I thought I should write something, as it’s been a couple days.  I’m not in a particularly great mood at the moment, so it wouldn’t serve to continue with a diatribe.  Maybe I’ll be back to normal tomorrow.

OK, Let Me Try This… WHERE Am I?

I’ve tried this before.  Negating my way to what I think is the barest of physical existence.  I’ve figured out that the body is not me, which is funny because if you ever ask someone to point to their self, they invariably point to the center of their chest.  Why do we do that?  What is in the chest that can serve as a personal identity?  The heart?  It certainly does it’s part in keeping the rest of the body alive, but as far as I can tell, it isn’t the center of my being.  By deduction, I’m fairly certain that I can still exist without the heart.  I’ve deduced for myself that I exist as a function of the brain, and that if I could somehow shed the body and keep the brain alive, I would still exist.  Quite morbid, I understand, but I think I would still exist.  So I’ve negated all but my brain as being “me”, and I don’t know how to break it down from there.  All I can say after that is that I don’t know.

I’m sure that I could lose a great deal of the brain, given that much of it is tasked with controlling certain aspects and behaviors of the body.  I could certainly do without the portions that control breathing, or translate optical signals, or process any of the other sensory inputs.  No need for motor control, or problem solving if I’m just a brain floating in a tank.  So then, in which part of the brain do I exist?  Which part of the brain is the command center.  And if the command center can be located, where is the commander?

I found this small article that may prompt further reading, but it’s late, and I’m really tired.  So I bid adieu, and bon soir.

My Reality

Every once in a while I catch myself marveling at how amazing everything around me is.  I, as well as many hundreds more where I’d worked for 14 years, have become an unfortunate statistic – one of many who currently make up the nationwide 9.4% unemployment ranks.  We were lucky because we knew it was coming for a while, and were given plenty of time to prepare.  As a result, I have been supremely blessed with being able to spend most all of my time with my family.  I love that!  Circumstances up to this point in my life had never allowed for such intense family saturation, and I never would have guessed that I’d almost feel guilty for not wanting to go back to the daily grind of a career.  It churns my stomach, actually… the thought of endless meetings, and long days, and teleconferences, and uniform policies, and silly HR matters.  Ugh!  I don’t look forward to it at all.  Alas, I’m afraid that that is what is in store for me unless I win a lottery jackpot, which isn’t at all possible because I don’t play.

I’ve been given a rare blessing in this life.  I have no job, but I have a life filled with such joy and love that a job just seems so pathetically unimportant.  It’s just too bad that I have bills to pay, and groceries to buy.  I suppose that sometime soon I’ll be negotiating a new stint as an employed dolt, and loathing that first day away from heaven.  It’s true what they say, you know… “you don’t know what you’ve got until it’s gone.”  I will miss being around my family all day long, and will think of them often in my next tenure in indetured servitude.  I will, no doubt, feign pride and happiness at finally landing said gig, and maybe even pretend to look forward to contributing to something bigger than myself.  I just hope I won’t get lulled into the corporate bullshit, and become a part of the machine.

Until then, I know what I have been blessed with, and I will count those blessings every moment I’m allowed.  I have placed a number of my art pieces for sale, and that would be wonderful if that took off, but I have no such pipe dreams.  Actually, that would be absolutely fantastic.  Maybe, several years after I pass, my children and grandchildren could benefit from my artistic efforts.  Who knows.

So, this was a bit off topic for me, but I thought about oneness, nonduality, awareness, etc, and I didn’t think I could write again on the subject without regurgitating what has already been said over, and over again.  I sound like a broken record.  Nothing fresh, nothing new, no enlightenment, not even a glimpse.  I brought it back down to Earth tonight.  I’m unemployed.  I’m looking for a job that I don’t want to go back to.  I love my family, and I love spending every moment with them.  I’m tired, and I’m enjoying a nice merlot.  That’s my reality right now.  I don’t want another one, nor do I care to deeply understand the one I have at the moment.  See me tomorrow… maybe things will change again.

Maybe Rene Descartes Was an Advaitin?

Yesterday’s blog prompted quite a bit of discussion as well as a word I’d heard, but never thought enough about to find the meaning of – Solipsism.  Ignorant as I am, I Googled it and read enough to figure out what it meant.  If I may paraphrase, I think it means that the only existence and experience I can be sure of is my own.  Something was said about Descartes and Solipsism when he said, “Je ponce, donc je suis” – “I think, therefore I am.”  That’s where the differences emerge.  “I think.”  I guess Descartes deduced his existence because he had thoughts.  Maybe if he was and Advaitin, Descartes would’ve said, “Je suis” – “I am.”  Obviously, he was just  a smidge off.

If someone was to ask me, “Do you think?”, I believe I would be able to answer that with an immediate, “Yes.”  I think, therefore I agree with Descartes.  I can’t separate the thinker from the “I am”.  Who else thinks if not me (I)?  I hear, “thoughts arise” from Advaitins.  Where do they come from?  To prove that they aren’t from me, it’s been suggested that I try to control my next thought, or to just watch them.  I see that as trying to control hearing.  Can you control what is heard?  No.  Can I control what I think about what is heard?  I think so, but where’s my proof?

When I question deeply my understanding of reality, I guess Solipsism may be the ultimate reductionist approach.  You can’t prove, or disprove Solipsism because it all has to be proved, or disproved in your own mind, which is alleged to be all that exists; or at least all you can prove that exists by it’s very operation.  I can’t ultimately prove that any of these people that comment on my blogs exist.  I can’t ultimately prove that these are my fingers typing these words on this keyboard.  To whom would I prove it?  Isn’t it enough that I can prove my own existence, and enjoy the existence I’ve created for myself without getting bogged down in trying to figure out the ultimate reality behind it all?  Why can’t I just BE, and leave all this mess alone?  Why can’t I just push the “I believe” button, and get on with living and dying?  Why must I torture myself with these incessant questions?  And, for Christ’s sake, WHO WANTS TO KNOW?

I Can See Where You’re Coming From… Almost

Me and "the boy" - Made with AndreaMosaic.

It’s been a couple days.  I’ve had to digest a comment conversation about my grandpa that’s kind of made me re-think this Advaita stuff – to look at it from a different perspective.  Everything I know, I know from experience.  Sure, there are things I apparently know intrinsically, such as how to breathe, how to beat my heart, how to grow my hair and fingernails, how to digest my food, how to stay alive while asleep, etc.  All these things I’d attributed to the autonomic nervous system, “I” already knew how to do without any training or external stimulus.  They just happen.  In some respects I guess I can agree with the Advaitins that life is being lived through me, for, without these automatic actions, I could not be typing these words.  I don’t breathe… breathing happens.  I don’t beat my heart… heart-beating happens.  I don’t digest food… digestion happens.  All of these things happen without my input or control.  Actually, I don’t have any control of these things whatsoever.

The tricky part has to do with the five senses and how the world around me is brought inside and experienced.  Now that I think about it, I really have little control over the sensory inputs either.  Seeing happens despite my thoughts that say I can control it.  Sure, I can close my eyes, or control where I look, but I cannot control the seeing itself.  It just happens, and I have nothing to do with it.  Same with hearing, taste, smell, and touch.  All of those senses are always there, always reporting to the brain, but not controlled in the least.  Aside from plugging my ears, how can I control what is heard?  I can’t.  There is hearing, that’s all.

That all brings me back to grandpa, and whether or not grandpa is real.  What I know of grandpa is all in memory, which is thought.  Grandpa is a thought, or a series of thoughts brought back from previous experiences, which are always only experienced now.  When I am in his physical presence, I see, hear, smell, and touch him.  That is a more direct experience of him, but still it relies on the senses to report what is sensed to a brain, which interprets all those signals, and coalesces them into a single experience of “grandpa”.  Not the real grandpa, but just an interpreted version of him.  So I guess when someone says that there is no grandpa, I technically can’t argue with them.  And honestly, I can’t verify anything other than I exist.  Everything else is a brain taking input from it’s associates… here-say.  But then again, I bet if someone were to clobber my right leg with a sledge hammer, both my legs would break, and I would scream like a little girl for a very long time.  At that moment, you couldn’t convince me in the least that what I was experiencing wasn’t real.

I guess you could say that I’m at a conceptual crossroads now.  I can understand why someone would say, “none of this is real”, and technically get away with it because there’s no concrete way of proving that any of this exists at all.  All I can say with absolute authority is that I exist.  I am, and everything else is because I am.  Sounds selfish, but if I didn’t exist, this would all be nothing.  But I still don’t quite get it!  Arghh!

Batman, Fallen Soldier, Grandpa, and Stubbed Toes

I don’t have a lot to write about today (it’s actually after midnight now, but I can’t sleep yet).  I was watching the latest Batman movie with my wife tonight.  We tried to watch it last night, but crashed about 40 minutes before the end, and had to pick up again tonight.  About the time when Batman had pulled the Joker up after saving him from splatting on the ground below a high-rise building, the Joker hanging upside down, I got this intense feeling that came over me like a wave.  My body recessed into the background and it seemed as if my peripheral vision disappeared.  I could just barely focus on whatever was in front of me.  This wave of chilled tingling came over me, and I couldn’t feel my arms or legs, but I started smiling and feeling really good.

I wondered for a second, “Is this it?  Is this the beginning of my awakening?”  I guess not.  It wasn’t all of the sudden and quick like I’ve heard it would be.  Plus, all it was was an experience.  Being experience, it could not ultimately be real.  It was kind of weird and exciting, though.  I’ve still got remnants of that feeling in my arms, legs, hands, and feet.  Don’t know what to think of it, but my state of mind is much, much lighter, and I’m still grinning uncontrollably.  No drugs involved… I promise.  Anyway, maybe I shouldn’t even mention it, but I have nothing else to talk about at the moment.

Meanwhile, last night, there was an enormous show of support for a fallen soldier from our community.  His body arrived at a local airport, and was escorted to his home church by tons of motorcyclists and police.  I did not attend because I don’t know that I could have controlled my emotions, but there were a lot of people lining the streets on his final route home, all there to show their support and honor the sacrifice of this young man.  Most of these folks didn’t even know him personally.  Our community came together for one man, and one family in a way I’d not seen before.  I’m sure that some of these folks that lined the streets are not fans of our involvement in Iraq and Afghanistan, but they still support the men and women that are asked to risk their lives for all of us.  So this evening I’m extremely proud to be a part of this particular brand of humanity, this local community that rallies around a grieving family.  Beautiful!

Then, this afternoon, my 92 year old grandfather had emergency intestinal surgery.  Last I heard he was OK, but I’m a state away, so if something changes, there’s a bit of a delay.  He’s been in ill health for a number of months now, and has battled one ordeal after another on his way to his last days.  Is there anything I can learn from this?

Witnessing the outporing of support for our local fallen hero, and feeling the emotions of that, plus that of possibly losing my grandfather, I’ve decided that oneness, or whatever it’s called, seems a long way away from me right now.  To think that any of this is not real, is just as unfathomable to me as it is for me to believe in Santa Claus.  And to top it off, I cracked the hell out of all the toes on my left foot.  It HURT BAD, and I remember thinking at that moment how ridiculous it was to think that THAT was not real!  OUCH!!!

Getting Mad and Finding Yourself

This moment is ever fresh.  It never fades.  But…

It’s so easy to spend my infinite nows by thinking about the past or future.  I get caught up in stuff that absolutely does not matter in the least.  I watched someone get really mad once, and wondered what was it that was getting all worked up.  Some external thing happened (note – past tense), and this person took that thing inside,turned it into an awful transgression, and got really ticked off.  I remember just looking at his head and wondering what it was inside there that decided that this “bad” thing needed all of this attention.  Replaying the event in his mind just made it worse.  The more he talked about it, the worse it got.  I thought about Advaita then, trying to grasp what is said about reality when comparing it to what I was witnessing.  Not only had this “man” assumed that this body was his, he also took a sensory input (what was said), registered it in the mind, apparently called up memories of past transgressions, then switched his entire physiology into a angered state.  Who is in there that did this?  Why did this man get so upset?  Then I turned it on myself… why do I get that way sometimes?

The stimulus-response mechanism is at work here, I suppose.  Not quite fight-or-flight, because that’s an elementary response.  I think it was Steven Covey who said something about the stimulus-response, and how humans had a gap between the two.  In that gap, we have the ability (maybe not the patience) to make a decision as to the response.  Is that mind controlling mind?  Who controls the mind controlling the mind?  And who knows that?

Who knows anything?  I see myself in the mirror, and don’t believe that what I see is “me”.  But where can I be?  The answer always reduced into the brain.  I must be inside the brain.  But it’s “my” brain, so it can’t be, or contain “me”.  Then what the hell is it?  What am I?  Where am I?  Should I just shut up and continue to play the game?  Why am I so driven to know?  Why can’t I be as simple as a fundamentalist Christian, or Muslim, or whatever, and just accept what I’m told, shut up, and live my life, hoping that when I die I make it into Heaven?  I used to believe like that.  I no longer have that blind faith.  I guess it could be that ignorance truly is bliss.

Both my grandfathers are 92 years old.  If I should live as long as them, I should hope to have figured all of this out by then.  I can’t imagine living that long, and never really knowing the truth.  My solace is in my gut feeling that the truth can be known, and should be known not just by me, or by a special group of people.  If the truth dawns on me one day, I believe I’ll have a hard time not sharing it, consequences be damned.

The Link Between Realization and Coffee

You know, there’s one other thing besides the search for the ultimate reality that almost consumes me at times – making coffee.  I have read until I’m blue in the face about how to make coffee.  I’ve got a mack-daddy coffee machine that has it’s own burr grinder, and it makes horrible coffee.  I love coffee!  I really, really love a great cup of Joe.  The only problem is that I seldom experience it.  The last great cup of coffee I had was about five years ago at The Olive Garden.  It was so good I wanted to ask them what their recipe was.  I’ve been back several times since then and haven’t had coffee worth a crap.  I buy whole bean coffee, grind it myself with a burr grinder, and have messed with recipes until I give up.  Too little coffee and it’s bitter.  Too much coffee and it’s way too strong.  The size of the grind is a factor, too, but I’m so dense I can’t figure it out!  Having the engineering background, you’d think I could set up a simple DOE and get it right.  It sucks that I can’t make a perfect cup.  I come close when I use a French Press, but that’s about it.

I thought about my search for the perfect cup of coffe, and realized it had a lot in common with my search for realization.  I’ve had glimpses at times, and I can remember what it tastes like, but I can’t quite seem to nail it.  If anyone out there has a secret to share (on either subject), I’m wide open.  Help me out, please!

There’s instructions on the bag of whole bean coffee.  Grind just before brewing, use 2 tablespoons per 6 ounces of water.  Did that… too strong.  I modified the grind, still too strong.  Lowered the bean count… too bitter.  I want to give up, just like I want to give up my search for the truth, but every morning I wake up with the urge to have another go at making coffee, so I try again.  Similarly with my search, I give up periodically, then find myself back at it the next day.  I wonder if I applied some Advaita principles to coffee making, would that help?

• There is no perfect cup of coffee, this is it
• Everything is this perfect cup of coffee.  All you must do is be the coffee
• There is nothing wrong (or right) with the coffee you already have
• Ask the question, to whom is the coffee perfect, or not?
• There is no separation between you and the coffee.  You and the coffee are one.
• Coffee arises

I think that my realization and the perfect cup of coffee are inextricably linked together.  One very special morning, when I least expect it, I will taste the first cup from my latest coffee experimentation, and it will be PERFECT.  Upon sipping said coffee, I will realize the truth, laugh out loud, and you will see a completely different tone in my blog.  I will then be one of the crazy people saying funny things about how “I am”, and nothing is real, and this is all just a play upon the screen of awareness.  Oh what a day that will be!