Showing posts with label anarchy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label anarchy. Show all posts

Tuesday, 17 June 2014

Perfectionism: Taking the Easy Way

Amber Larson, Dhr. Seven, Wisdom Quarterly; Brianna Sacks (k llingthebuddha.com)
"K lling the Buddha" is a glib koan that became a Mahayana slogan for "do not put idols on pedestals." We can become awakened without depending on others, that is, when we awaken, the truth we realize does not depend on anyone or anything. But getting their does depend on noble friendship. So even the thought of harming the Buddha, a liberator, offends Theravada sensibilities. It makes light of one of the Five Heinous Karmic Acts.
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Brianna Sacks (Huffington Post/USC)
Surrounded by ten other cross-legged and deeply breathing bodies rooted still in the thick India morning air, I felt a sense of triumph. I -- the buzzing, over-stimulated American -- was meditating.
 
My screaming hips and lower back quivered in resistance as I focused on the gentle rocking of my long breaths, silently repeating, “Hong Sau” as the monks directed. Swaddled in a red felt blanket under the swaying mosquito net of the Ananda Ashram’s makeshift temple, I had won. That’s how I saw my dip into the spiritual world -- something to check off my accomplishment list.
 
Some did try to kill the Buddha like Angulimala.
I pray to no religious leader, nor do I seek guidance from a higher power. I am a disciple of the great American religion of ambition.
  • [Be lamps (dipa) unto yourselves, be islands (dipa) unto yourselves taking no other as a lamp or island with only the Dharma as your guide was the historical Buddha's final admonition (DN 16). See exact wording below.]
It hasn’t always been that way. Two very loving, comforting, metaphysically aligned parents brought me into this world, and I thank these people for my unique, spiritual childhood -- parents who often meditated against the trunk of an ancient oak tree shadowing our home because of its “powerful energy” or gathered with their handful of spiritual friends, who opened chakras and performed healing treatments. At breakfast my brother and I discussed last night’s dreams from our booster seats. Crystals and worn, ripped copies of the Kabbalah were my playthings. Everything smelled like incense. I sang Hebrew blessings over my preschool lunches, attended Hebrew school, was bat-mitzvahed, and later dabbled in Christian youth groups and momentarily found Jesus.
 
“Meditate, it will save you,” is what I grew up hearing. But I couldn’t.

When I was six, my parents asked me to draw the hurt in my soul because, as my mother says, I was born with a painful wound burrowed into my being. They kept the drawing -- one of a gray, black mass resembling a cave that lived inside my giant red, lopsided heart.
 
My mother calls me a machine, a robot wrought of skin and bone that can always push harder, do more, be better.
 
My unrelenting quest for perfection often produces debilitating panic attacks and pitfalls of depression. The number of times I have spent trapped in my car, hyperventilating, sobbing, trying to breathe into the phone while my mom on the other end of the line tries to calm me begs the question: “What am I chasing?”

Pausing, forcing myself to pull back the restless, insecure pieces of myself and look deep inside is a task I have been running from, fearing that if I do, I will get lost.
 
“You’re already lost” is a thought that often rings far off in my consciousness. But ambition is still my accepted method of self-torture.
 
So when I learned that my journalism class would be spending almost three days at the Ananda Ashram in Pune, India, before our reporting week in Mumbai [Bombay], I silently cursed everything. 
 
Meditation, which had haunted me my entire life, would put me on lockdown. In rural India, surrounded by grey shrubs, slow, shriveled cows, and red mountains, I would not be able to escape. More

What the Buddha said at the end
"The Great Final-Nirvana Discourse" (Maha Parinirvana Sutra, DN 16.33-35)
Theravada: The Buddha reclining into final nirvana, Thailand (DennisonUy/flickr)
 
33. "Therefore, Ananda, be lamps/islands (dipa) unto yourselves, guides (sarana) unto yourselves, seeking no external guide, with the Dharma as your island, the Dharma as your guide, seeking no other guide.
 
"And how, Ananda, is a disciple an island unto oneself, a guide unto oneself, seeking no external guide, with the Dharma as one's island, the Dharma as one's guide, seeking no other guide?
 
34. (1) "When one dwells contemplating (satipatthanas or The Four Foundations of Mindfulness) the body in the body, earnestly, clearly comprehending, and mindfully, after having overcome hankering and sorrow with regard to the world; (2) when one dwells contemplating feelings in feelings, (3) the mind in the mind, and (4) mental objects in mental objects, earnestly, clearly comprehending, and mindfully, after having overcome hankering and sorrow with regard to the world, then, truly, one is an island unto oneself, a guide unto oneself, seeking no external guide, having the Dharma as one's island, the Dharma as one's guide, seeking no other guide.
 
35. "Those disciples of mine, Ananda, who now or after I am gone, abide as a island unto themselves, as a guide unto themselves, seeking no other guide, having the Dharma as their island and guide, seeking no other guide: it is they who will become the highest (tamatagge), if they have the zeal to learn."

Wednesday, 2 October 2013

Beauty Pageant or Sexual Farce? (video)

Nick Blinko, Farce; Amber Larson, Seven, CC Liu, Wisdom Quarterly
Megan Young, Miss Philippines, crowned Miss World (center) More
Tough guys, join later.
It's a "Farce"! She is such a pretty girl. Her shape fits well into a mold. Her mind removed, her body's sold. She does exactly what she's told.
 
He is such a brave young man. If his brain can't then violence can. His mind was drained since life began of the compassion he once had.

Why go on living in the past? We just uphold this sexual farce. Past is past is past is farce. Why go on living in the past?

If air to breathe is hard to find in her tight mold, she doesn't mind. She fits in well; she's one of a kind. Her processed mind upholds the lies.
 

  
No girls allowed (Reuters/Vatican)
He, in turn, plays out the part we tempted him with from the start. She, in turn, plays out the part dictated to her by the past.

It's a "Cosmetic Plague"! Being honest is no means of survival. So we avoid our inner-feelings like the plague.
 
Unreal beauty (artist Claire Duguid)
This is what it takes to comply with the image society will accommodate. But things aren't what they seem when they're partially hidden behind walls of pretense -- built for our peace of mind. The barriers between us are maintained by our acceptance of the roles others choose to define.

In a world of competition life's portrayed as a contest where we're forced to live by making gains at others' expense.

Renaissance man and his best friend (R)
But no one's really gaining when perpetual conflict's the result of our relationships. We don't need this cultural cosmetic division. It upholds the self-interest on which the system feeds, A decolonized consciousness, one of mutual respect, is the only way to cure this cosmetic disease.

It's a "Mice Race"! Dawn breaks, but it isn't a new day. Men like sheep, women like mice -- all caught in the rat race. Take a closer look at what's going on today. Are we justified in having nothing to say? Are we justified in having nothing to say? Are we not aware of a feeling of humiliation? Don't we have to sell ourselves, keep on saying, "Sir." Are we really satisfied that everything's okay?

"The New Age Traveller" - UK doc includes footage of Stonehenge Free
Festivals, Battle of the Bean Field, Castlemorton... (Time Shift/BBC 4)
  
(Tom Tomorrow/ThisModernWorld.com)
Conditioned from the start, and controlled from all directions, swamped by a normality that mustn't be questioned. Ignorance is only a form of self-deception. Are we justified in having nothing to say? 
 
Take a closer look at what's going on today. Are we really satisfied that everything's okay? Perhaps, after all, too much thinking doesn't pay.