Tag Archives: zen

My Brain Is an Asshole

Posted by on March 28, 2012 No comments

Scumbag Brain

I’ve been pretty good lately about sitting zazen. However, there are days when I don’t feel like sitting silently for 40 minutes. And goddammit, this week has been full of ‘em.

Sometimes it’s hard to meditate because I’m depressed or angry. After all, who wants to observe thoughts and let them drop away when you’re convinced that SOME ASSHOLE DID SOMETHING AND MUST BE PUNISHED?? Righteous indignation is like a heroin drip jacked directly into the prefrontal cortex.

Then there are weeks like this week, where things are going reasonably well, and I feel good about myself, but my mind is running a mile a minute with all the things I want to cram into a 24-hour period. My noodle, to use the Buddha’s vivid description, is flopping about like a fish hooked and left on the sand, thrashing about in agony. It’s not that my mind is actively recusing itself from meditation. Rather, it’s so hopped up on possibilities and activity that the very thought of sitting calmly, focusing on my breath, and letting go of ideas as they arise seems as appetizing as watching a 700 Club marathon.

Basically, I can’t win. Which leads me to conclude that my brain is a real asshole. When it’s sad, it wants to rant about how it’s alternately the world’s greatest victim or the world’s worst loser. When it’s happy, it isn’t satisfied: it wants more happiness, more success. Or it’s terrified that the scintilla of happiness it’s discovered will disappear.

The funny thing is, knowing that my brain is an asshole makes it easier to sit down and do what needs to be done. Because then I know I need to meditate anyway – even if I don’t feel like it, and even, as usually happens at times like this, I feel like a total failure at it because my brain keeps pulling shit like this:

BRAIN: What, we’re just SITTING here? Again?! Let’s be productive, at least. Here, let’s continue plotting out that novel you’ll all but abandoned. I have a GREAT idea for the next plot twist. Ready? Here it is…FERRETS. Genetically altered, rabid FERRETS. With three eyes. Okay, you’re right, fuck that, ferrets are stupid. You do know your taxes are due soon, right? AND ONE DAY WE WILL DIE AND OUR ASHES WILL FLY IN AN AEROPLANE OVER THE SEEEAAAA…Wow, it’s nice out. You should get up and go bike, your ass is starting to look like two bulldogs in a duffel bag arguing over a bone. Are we done yet? What time is it anyway? Feels like we’ve been sitting here since the first coming of Jesus.

ME: …

BRAIN: Did that one woman ever message you back? She’s probably not that into you. Or she’s TOTALLY into you, but busy. I thought that date went well. At least, you didn’t drool all over yourself and spout polysyllabic gibberish, which is an improvement over the last date. Xenoglossia? Sooooo not sexy. Here, let’s starting thinking about your ex again. HA! Just kidding – I’ll save that for next week. Is this really necessary? Come on, tell the truth – we’re just sitting here so that chicks will think you’re “sensitive” and shit, right? Okay, it’s decided: she’s totally not into you. PUT A BIRD ON IT HAHAHAHA!! Rush Limbaugh is a dick.

ME: …

BRAIN: Doughnuts.

ME: Oh God, I could SO use a doughnut right…oh, goddammit.

…

Because, well, that’s just my brain. It’s an asshole like that. And I try and extend to it the same love and absence of judgment that I seek to extend to others. As a result, after 10 years of trying, I have something close to a daily meditation practice. And my brain and I? We’re slowly becoming friends.

Even if, most of the time, he is a real asshole.

Silence and Symbols

Posted by on March 1, 2012 No comments

Pagan Symbols

The Witch’s Way is not to leave her body behind and strive for a purely spiritual existence. Sacred Dove, our own God Soul, is embodied. Our very spirituality is embodied.

- T. Thorn Coyle

Presence is where you are right now.

- Lasara Allen

I stepped outside this morning to greet another cold, bitter day in Seattle. It’s March and it’s snowing, which strikes me either as a cruel joke, or as vengeance wrought by a Mother Goddess who wishes we’d cut it out with all the goddamn fossil fuels already.

It’s sad what a cold pussy I’ve become. It seems living in Seattle for 13 years has killed the little boy back in upstate New York who used to toss himself into five-foot-high snowdrifts.

It’s good weather for a four-day weekend – or, at least, for what I have planned for it. My original plan was to head up north to Bellingham for a three-day Zen sesshin. I scuttled that, primarily because it’s where I used to live, and where my ex-girlfriend still lives. It’s only been three months since I left, and only a couple of weeks since I’ve felt closure. it seems kinder – for both of us – to maintain as much distance as I can manage.

But staying put also serves a larger purpose: it allows me to craft my own spiritual weekend, one in which I weave my silent meditation practice in with my Pagan spiritual work.

If your sole practice is Zen Buddhism, your core work is zazen – silent sitting meditation, sometimes for hours on end. (Oh, it’s not that bad. There are walking intervals and potty breaks. And lunch. Even Zen-folk love lunch.) As a Pagan, I connect with my gods through a variety of additional practices, including prayer, trance work, creative visualization, Tarot readings and meditations, breath work, and magical castings.

For me, meditation is both an end in itself and a foundational practice. By training in sitting and watching my mind, I become more aware of my stories, my tangents and digressions. My attention span increases. I become more calm and less reactive – less susceptible to anger, self-pity, and depression. Meditation is training to be less trapped in our heads, and more present in the world.

And that’s good in itself. When we’re less susceptible to our own bullshit, everyone around us benefits. But it also aids my magical work. Take creative visualization as an example. One practice used by many Pagans is journeying to a place of power, or an astral temple. This is either a solo or guided meditation that takes you to a symbol-rich landscape of great magical potential. Here, you can affirm intentions about changes you wish to affect in your life, cast good wishes for others, or simply see what your waking consciousness refuses to see. I’ve received insights on such journeys that have been comforting, revealing, startling, challenging. Often, when I return to ordinary consciousness, I possess a new-found ability to take decisive action in my life.

Such journeys are a lot easier when you’re not obsessing over whether your rent check’s gonna clear.

I’ve talked to a number of Pagans who started their spiritual journeys on a more contemplative path, and converted to Paganism because of the great value they found in the language of symbols. I can’t blame ‘em. Personally, I find both paths valuable. Silence and symbols go together like toast and peanut butter. I’d hate to have one without the other.

Except that, sometimes, I love eating peanut butter right off of the spoon. So it’s an imperfect analogy.

Okay, shutting up now.

The End of Church, or the Beginning of Spirit?

Posted by on February 20, 2012 No comments

Church ruinsDiana Butler Bass has a doozy of an article on Huffington Post which, at first glance, is about the continued decline of American Protestant and Catholic churches. But Bass has a larger, positive point: that ol’ time religion is giving way to a non-authoritarian approach to faith.

This is my favorite bit from the article:

“Spiritual and religious” expresses a grassroots desire for new kinds of faith communities, where institutional structures do not inhibit or impede one’s relationship with God or neighbor. Americans are searching for churches — and temples, synagogues, and mosques — that are not caught up in political intrigue, rigid rules and prohibitions, institutional maintenance, unresponsive authorities, and inflexible dogma but instead offer pathways of life-giving spiritual experience, connection, meaning, vocation, and doing justice in the world. Americans are not rejecting faith — they are, however, rejecting self-serving religious institutions.

Can I get a “Blessed Be”? (An “Amen” will work, too.)

Joe Perez offers his two cents for what this means for a new “World spirituality”. I’m more interested in what this means for religious diversity, and for the freedom that this affords individual practitioners. This shift away from hierarchical, power-over religious structures signals a new model of “religion” in which “going to church/temple/zendo/the open grove” doesn’t mean receiving The Holy Word, but sharing part of one’s spiritual practice with like-minded practitioners.

I had the good fortune of taking my kids last week to Gaia’s Temple in the Ballard neighborhood of Seattle. The Temple, which has been in operation for over a decade, welcomes people of all genders, races, and sexual orientations to come once a month and celebrate the Divine Feminine through song, meditation, and discussion. I had never even knew it existed until a friend told me about it.

Oh, what I’d been missing. My younger kids liked it. My (Pagan) teen son loved it. I loved it. I have no clue what most of the 100+ people in attendance that Sunday believed, or how they practiced on their own time. What mattered is that I could sit with them, chant with them, ground myself in Earth energy with them, and celebrate the turning of the Wheel with them.

And that, to me, is the true meaning of “religion” – from the Latin religare, “to bind together”. I felt this binding together at Gaia’s Temple. I feel it when I practice zazen with my fellow Buddhists. Rather than being bound by doctrine, we come together around a few principle ideas or practices that are sacred to us. The officiants of such practices are highly esteemed in the community, and may even have special recognitions bestowed upon them. But they’re not there, generally, to chastise us for our sinful ways. They lead practice. They instruct gently. They remind us, over and over again, to come back to who we really are.

Is this type of religious practice on the rise? I sure as hell hope so. Despite our technological prowess and burgeoning wealth, our planet and its denizens suffer immensely. It’s going to take a living, breathing spiritual practice – and not mere religious dogma – to wake us out of our slumber.

Trust the Teaching…Even When Your Teacher’s a Douchebag

Posted by on February 18, 2012 No comments

Bad TeacherOver at The Wild Hunt, Jason Pitzl-Waters has some choice words regards the John Friend scandal. For those of you who aren’t as fascinated by spiritual drama as I am, Friend is the founder of Anusara Yoga, which he adopted from the Iyengar method. He’s in a bit of hot water for various reasons, including – cue shock and awe – sticking his Wang in someone’s Chung.

Ouch. Okay, that didn’t work at all. Forget I ever typed that.

Anyway, when it comes to spiritual scandals, Friend has all of the bases covered. He attempted to rob his employees of their pensions (money). He’s been accused of using his workers as pot couriers (drugs). The story came to Jason’s attention because, while supposedly in a monogamous relationship with his girlfriend, Friend used Wicca as a cover to sleep with several (married) women on the side (sex). He’s the Yogic Dennis Merzel. Oh, no, wait – that was Amrit Desai. Whatever. Tale as old as time, song as old as rhyme. The only twist this time is that Friend has dragged two spiritual traditions – Yoga and Wicca – down into the muck.

Let’s get one thing straight. None of this reflects on Yoga or on Wicca. It reflects on John Friend. Unfortunately, it won’t be seen that way by many. Some people will blindly defend their teacher. Worse, some will become disillusioned and walk away from their spiritual practice. And that’s the real tragedy of such scandals.

As Brad Warner’s observed, we put spiritual teachers on such a high pedestal that we’re devastated when they (inevitably) come tumbling down. And that’s a shame, because there are so many great spiritual teachers doing good work all around the world. How do you find them? Don’t go for the self-styled guru fashioning a multi-zillion-dollar spiritual empire. Find someone in a sleepy corner of your town or city who is quietly doing her practice, and quietly passing it onto others. Don’t revere this person; just absorb as much wisdom from her as you can in your short time together. As Brad states regarding teachers in the Zen tradition:

A Zen teacher is someone who has chosen to do serious work on herself or himself. Our experiences in doing this work on ourselves can be useful to others. Many of us allow other people to join us in this work. Those who join us in this work may very well be helped. And most of us will try our best to help them when we can.

And if that teacher does let you down? If at some point you discover he’s been defrauding his employees, or sleeping with her students during their “private spiritual consultations”?

It doesn’t matter.

If your teacher has given you good instruction in an authentic spiritual tradition, and those teachings have positively impacted your life, then it doesn’t matter that your Roshi needs a flatbed truck to carry his baggage around with him. Your daily practice is what matters. Have faith in your practice, even if you’ve lost faith in your teacher.

Oh, and don’t let John Friend within 10 feet of your hot yoga pants. Just to be safe.

Hamster Cages in Hell: Why No One Likes Meditation

Posted by on February 10, 2012 No comments

Pagan MeditationThere’s an interesting article on the Pantheos site by P. Sufenas Virius Lupus about the contrasting views between prayer and meditation in Pagan practice. It’s a good overview of the contrasting camps. Overall, I agree with the author’s framing: the whole discussion is a touch silly, as the two practices are not mutually exclusive.

One sentence in the piece really jumped out at me, though, and I couldn’t pass it over without pitching my two cents into the communal fountain:

In a less adversarial situation, I heard the issue phrased in the following way: “If you like to talk, you’re going to like to pray; if you like to listen, you’re going to like to meditate.”

Lupus goes on to explain how he has tried meditation over the years, and has been dissuaded from the practice because he “sucks horribly” at it.

But here’s the thing. No one likes meditation. Least of all the people who practice it daily.

I meditate because I believe I should. It’s good for me. I don’t “like” it. There’s nothing fun about sitting still for 30 minutes at a wallop watching the incessant chatter of my mind. The short retreats I’ve done – in which participants perform a combination of sitting or walking meditation for over seven hours a day – are some of the hardest challenges I’ve ever faced in my life.

I’m not good at it, either. After years of imperfect, irregular practice, it’s just as hard to sit with my thoughts as it’s always been. Oh sure, at first, you improve. I started out barely able to sit still for five minutes straight. Then I could easily do 10 minutes, then 15 minutes, until finally I could sit for a half hour at a time without wanting to bolt off of my cushion every 30 seconds to check e-mail and Facebook. This happened for me during the first three months of regular practice. Since then, I don’t feel like I’ve gotten a lick better. My mind still wanders all over the place. A typical sitting of zazen is a seemingly endless cycle of defeat. It’s like running a hamster cage in Hell. Resolve to observe my thoughts. Start thinking. Notice I’m thinking. Bring my attention back to my breath. Repeat for what feels like eternity.

So, why do it? The same reason people exercise when they’d rather sit in front of the TV. It makes me a little less edgy, a little more thoughtful, and a little more compassionate. It makes me more aware during the way of when my mind drifts into anger or self-deprecation, and helps me return to the present moment. And it provides a solid foundation for my other spiritual work. Is it hard? Yes. Is it depressing? Some days more than others. But it’s also humbling. I’m prone to regard myself as the Master of My Universe. Truth is, I don’t even control what happens inside my own skull.

I’m not trying to beat up on Sufenas for choosing prayer over meditation. I love prayer as a devotional practice. And he makes a great case for Pagan prayer. But I’d hate for anyone – Pagan or otherwise – to steer clear of meditation because they believe it requires some kind of natural talent. You sit with the mind you have, and you do the best you can. And you evolve.

When you are determined to practice zazen with the great mind of Buddha, you will find the worst horse is the most valuable one.  In your very imperfections you will find the basis for your firm, way-seeking mind.  Those who can sit perfectly physically usually take more time to obtain the true way of Zen, the actual feeling of Zen, the marrow of Zen.  But those who find great difficulties in practicing Zen will find more meaning in it.  So I think that sometimes the best horse may be the worst horse, and the worst horse can be the best one.

- Shunryu Suzuki-Roshi, from “The Marrow of Zen” in Zen Mind, Beginner’s Mind (full excerpt here)