I can't help but butcher some Beatles lyrics as I 'cross the pond' yet again, moving back to the joyful, peaceful, prosperous, and free, yes free, United States of America. 'Twas a very sad goodbye, leaving the roommates in London:
Left to Right: Gianfranco, Sana, me and Sjors behind me, Jim, Shahnaz, Masachi, and Lenart - I'm not sure who's idea it was to have props, but it seems to have worked out ok.
But I received an equally joyful welcome home by my beautiful fiancée, Kelly, in McLean, VA, where we'll be living for a while.
So the plan now is to settle in a bit, enjoy the lack of sirens, mice, random people urinating at the entrance of my living space, and other 'charms' of London. Soon we'll be apartment hunting for a place for just Kelly and I - something in the DC area. And planning: wedding planning, financial planning, life planning, future planning, family planning, world peace planning (nope, haven't got to that just yet) - but you get the picture.
Oh, and I hope to keep up on my studies. I'm technically withdrawn from the college until September, but in academia as with so much of life, what technically is and reality aren't always the same. I'll be in touch with my advisors and should make sure I have something pretty substantial to present to them before destroying the earth a little bit more, I mean flying, back to the UK (oh, and yes I will check on cross-Atlantic passenger boats, for sure).
I also got the crazy idea to write a book. I've been thinking of writing a book seriously for a few years now and this just might be my chance. A dear friend of mine in Missoula, Raven, has published one book and is finishing a second with an excellent niche publisher, Llewellyn, ("New Worlds of Mind and Spirit" is their motto). He thinks they might like something accessible to their audience on Buddhism. I think it would be fun. We shall see....
'Tis all for now. Oh, and I'm switching back to my other blog - American Buddhist Perspective. More there very soon!
Last week was another interesting one in my life (for me at least).
HEALTH/STRESS: It began Sunday with wrenching stomach pains and other things a bit on the gross side in Gozo, where I was vacationing. It could have been 'too much sun' from our day out Saturday, or food poisoning as my GP (doctor for y'all in the US) here diagnosed on Thursday. It could also have been just another turn in that Adrenal Fatigue thing I may have. With this I seem to have nearly all of the listed symptoms.
~
PHD UPDATE: Once back in London I had a meeting with my advisors- a brainstorming session that would hopefully set me on track for the summer to work on my own from the states. It was fantastic. I came away wishing I could somehow smuggle Professors Keown and Caygill in my back pocket back to the states (just pop them out once a week for more brainstorming and pep-talks) :) I'll have to post more on the details, but we came away with a further plan/outline for my thesis, something like:
Methodology
Literature Review
Ethics as a Path
Buddhism (from greed, anger, delusion toward freedom from these)
Kant (from drives, desires and inclinations toward freedom/autonomy)
Case studies: perhaps death and dying, perhaps sex with animals (ha! apparently a bit of an issue for both early Buddhists and Kant - should make for juicy discussion)
I can't wait to be rested enough and have the time to really dig in!
~
TRAVELS: Now I'm very happily in Bristol, where I did my Buddhist Studies MA. I'm staying with my good friend SJ, who was a housemate of mine back then. I've had the pleasure to meet up with old coursemate Mary and her boyfriend Alex yesterday and today I've just met up with Ken Robinson, a fascinating retired gentleman who has made a home for himself in the Buddhist Studies department here in Bristol. Tomorrow I'll hopefully see my old advisor, Paul Williams, and meet several of the new students before catching a bus back to London.
~
BLOGISATTVAS: In much more lighthearted good news, I have won a pair of Blogisattva Awards this year. I won a couple in 2006, the inaugural year for them, and was nominated for a few last year. So it was quite a lovely surprise to come up as a winner again this year. I should note that I was on this year's selection committee (but abstained in all cases from voting for myself - of course). The above link will give you the full list of winners - I highly recommend them all! My own awards came in the form of:
Best New Blog, 2007: Progressive Buddhism, a group blog with contributions by Ordinary Extraordinary [Justin Farquar], WH [William Harrison], Nacho Cordova, Buddhist_philosopher [Justin Whitaker], odin [Paul Jahshan], Tom [Tom Armstrong], and Joe in 2007.
Best Achievement Blogging on Matters Philosophical or Psychological [blog, blogger]: American Buddhist [the combination of American Buddhist Perspective (1/1-9/23/07) & American Buddhist in England (9/23-12/31/07)]; Justin Whitaker
I'm most surprised by the Political Post award, as it is typically a subject I avoid (half jokingly I'd say I don't talk politics unless I have either lots of energy or lots of alcohol in me). But I do keep up on the news and did see something recently that made me smile. It was when Hilary Clinton said during a debate something to the effect of, "whatever happens next, I am proud to be here on stage with BarackObama." Now, while everyone and his sister seems to have their own (often cynical) spin on this, I found it to be very beautiful, like a moment of genuine humanity in the otherwise very cruel and ego-driven game of politics. Of course soon enough they were back at it, but that is the nature of samsara, isn't it?
I, for one, will do what I can to see Obama in office next January. But first - the countdown on the right is telling me I have 3 days, 3 hours, and 3 minutes before I touch down in DC - a far more important milestone in my little life for the time being.
One of my housemates in London is doing his MRes on Blake and at some point came up with the adjective: Blakey. Today I was sent this quote (below) and stumbled across the image below that somewhere out in the Buddha-blogosphere...
To see a world in a grain of sand, And a heaven in a wild flower, Hold infinity in the palm of your hand, And eternity in an hour. ................
There is something humerously ironic about so much of contemporary life; in how true both of these statements from Blake can be (one of simple and profound unity, one of a child's endless desires). Today we had a beautiful picnic, Margaret and Bruce and I, in a protected little cove on the Northwest side of Gozo. There we had just the sound of the sea and the wind, the occasional flower or bit of sand, but mostly we just basked in the sun until the clouds rolled in. It was fantastic, filled with plenty of moments of "eternity in an hour"(the downside being that an eternity in the Mediterranean sun can really knock you out, but anyway).
The irony is in just how much work it took to find this blissful simplicity: a train, a plane, a mini-bus, a ferry, and a car. So maybe I'm a bit like that little child, too - only now waving down with a big grin from the moon.
~
On a not so Blakey but related theme (Buddhism), I had a chat with one of my housemates before I left last Tuesday: a Korean woman named Soyoung, an artist and Taoist. She observed that people here [London] talk a lot about fixing things in the world, the problems out there. But nobody seems to look at themselves. I agreed.
Our little college seems to be cause-central, but it is all (how to put this kindly?) superficial. One example is the Burma protests last fall. They threw together some people to join the London march, but half bailed out, and those who made it just seemed to be there to take pictures (you can see them all in my photos - ha!). A discussion on the topic I attended wound up being led by a socialist reporter who ranted about the "Western Imperialists' hand" behind all of this. I brought up China (the country most funding the oppressive military junta) and was shot down with the response that we can't really look at the big countries on this one - we must organize the student movement!
Mentioning "the movement" seemed to push a button in many of the students because they began buzzing and nodding in agreement. The idea of blaming "Western Imperialists" but not looking at the big countries pushed some of my logical consistency buttons and I kept quiet for the rest of the rally, or discussion.
Anyway, back to the story. So, Soyoung, the Korean woman, tells me this and I say, "Yes, but for me at least I can empathise. I need quiet and time to really look within - when I do get that, I get very introspective and I become creative and thoughtful and all those wonderful things. But when the world is a cacophony as it is here, the body seems to be on high alert and every sense organ (including the mind, which for us Buddhists is a sense organ) is turned outward."
She thought for a moment, and then said two very profound words:
"lotus flower."
For those who haven't had "Buddhist similes 101" the lotus flower is a symbol of the purity of perfect awakening emerging from the muck (they like to grow in gross muddy ponds) of ordinary life. Sort of like the Western idea of "every rose has its thorn" or something like that.
So, me being "smart" and not wanting to be one-upped spiritually, I came back with, "well, even a lotus needs decent conditions, right? It can't grow in rock." All of which I thought was very clever - yes we need to see ourselves as overcoming the muck of daily life, but we do need proper conditions to do our spiritual work...
She didn't have to think much this time. She just rolled her eyes and said:
I spent much of today in Epping Forest with friends. Oh, the blessing of nature...
We drank greedily of the blossom-sweet air, breathing in birdsong and the chatter of leaves skipping across the moss-green carpet. Tiny, colorful rocks demanded my attention as if I were a child, and laughter poured out of crevaces long covererd by London soot. We wandered, not lost, but free - free from paths and the pretense of time and destination.
Eventually our empty stomachs reminded us of our mortality and we descended again to earth and to London...
Sometimes we are lucky enough to be given a sign of how life is supposed to be. And we're luckier still if we see it.
~
A few years ago a friend passed me on a Sunday morning as I sat beneath a tree in front of my Missoula apartment. He called from his car window, "why aren't you at church?" I just smiled, looked up for a moment, and said, "I am."
~ Justin + sunshine + nature = happiness. (add good friends to flavor)
For about six months now, I've been a subscriber to Dr. Mercola's twice weekly newsletter, thanks to a recommendation by Kelly's friend, Liz, on their blog. I would very strongly recommend it myself; his no-nonsense advice and copious research, not to mention headlines like Soft Drinks: Disease in a Can have won me over.
One of Dr. Mercola's commonly discussed topics is the fact that most of us in the developed world do not get enough sunshine. That's right, not enough. I don't know about you, but I grew up with the message that 'too much sun can give you cancer' but nobody told me that 'too little sun can give you cancer too' - until now (another article, and another). And for the cancer we do get, the most common cause is our poor diet (too much processed food, filled with too many - sometimes carcinogenic - additives).
But, beyond cancer, too little sunshine obviously puts many of us (myself included) into quite a funk. As for dealing with these winter blues, Dr. Mercola has some great suggestions:
Get sun! A light-box or full-spectrum light bulbs will also help. Two years ago I flew to Hawai'i for a week and felt like I was walking on clouds for about three weeks even back in Missoula. In six days I'll be visiting friends on the tiny island of Gozo, Malta, where the forecast is for plenty of sunshine and highs in the 60s. And I've just ordered a six-pack of the above bulbs for Kelly in DC.
Exercise more - and keep it fun. Even when I don't feel like it, I still manage to get to the gym four or five days a week. Sometimes I'm there for as little as 20minutes, but even then I feel good that I went. Often enough, though, I manage 40minutes to an hour and walk out feeling really great.
Avoid comfort foods! Starchy/sugary foods actually stimulate quick bursts of serotonin (the 'good mood' hormone) in our brains, so we do feel good when we eat them. But it's a short-lived high, followed by a blood-sugar crash and (often enough) feelings of guilt for our indulgences. Eat more fresh veggies - green stuff especially.
Sleep! Our bodies follow the rhythms of the day pretty darned well, producing the 'sleep hormone' melatonin earlier as the days grow shorter. Unfortunately, most of us have lives and schedules that don't allow us to listen to our bodies and sleep more in winter months. Change this! Cut back activities in the darkest winter months as much as possible - your body, moods, and friends will thank you for it.
Get more Omega 3s. These are fats (that's right, you're supposed to eat more fat!) found most commonly in fatty fish like wild salmon (but NOT farmed salmon), and also in some vegetable products such as flax seed and rapeseed oils and walnuts (a good webpage).
Change your routines: pamper yourself; journal/reflect on your day and life; get out to the country - or out of the country if you can; clean (especially if this is new to you); listen to good music, etc. I've been LOVING my new noise-canceling headphones, listening to uplifting pop music and to the gayatri mantra (see below) - a wonderfully soothing and uplifting Sanskrit chant.
Beatles: Here Comes the Sun
Nina Simone: Here Comes the Sun
Richie Havens: Here Comes the Sun
I hope you like this song as much as I do! :) I grew up with lots of Richie Havens, too, so it brings me a smile just to hear his voice.
I received this as an email today. Somehow it just seems perfect (more to follow):
SMITHS REFLECTS/GOES HOME
SUBMISSION DEADLINE 12th February
Hello everybody, we are starting on a new issue of Smiths, the themes are Reflections/Home (working title.) We are asking you to reflect back on your lives, and give us submissions of the contemplative kind, in any form: stories, articles, objects, postcards. Etc.
Often going home, away from the whirlwind of uni life, is a good time for this kind of reflection, and with the majority of us not coming from central London, going back to our home towns for a stint with our parents can be quite a sobering experience. We want you to tell us about your other lives, what you get up to awayfrom Goldsmiths. With the media often being London–centric, this issue of Smiths is the definitive non-London issue.
Some examples of articles we would like submissions about..
- Photos of ‘home’. - Reviews/interviews with people you knew who are now in bands (whether they are famous or still local). - Interesting traditions from your hometowns. - Fashion photography (perhaps examining the ‘makeover’ process some people undergo when coming to a new city/uni). - Postcards from your hometowns, perhaps with stories etc on the back. - Any experiences which are very much nostalgic to you now.
We would also like you to submit photos which could be on the front of a postcard for New Cross, the photos would need to encapsulate how you feel about New Cross (and surrounding areas), a postcard you could send to someone who doesn’t live here. 4 winning photos will be chosen and published as pull-outs in the magazine.
Please note- We would like submissions of the above things, but this is in no way a final list. PLEASE BE CREATIVE with your ideas around this theme, remember you can write about ANYTHING as long as you feel it links to the theme in some way, and as stated before, submissions can be in any form.
Today I visited another hall of residence for a potential move, Raymont Hall. It has some pros and cons I'll need to mull over for a day or so; feel free to chime in with advice.
Pros:
It's on a quiet road in a residential neighborhood, I now live on a major highway in a busy neighborhood.
The room would be a bit bigger with a nice desk, my own toilet and shower, and a larger window, overlooking either a quiet internal garden/courtyard or facing out where it would get several hours of direct sunlight.
Laundry services are on-site; right now I have to walk a couple blocks to do laundry.
Cons:
It's 15 minutes' walk from college, I'm about 5 minutes now (a small thing).
The kitchens there are filthy; the kitchens here, despite the mice, are immaculate in comparison.
No internet in the rooms (this may be a pro though if it means I get more work done).
It is $30/week more in rent.
The people there (and thus potential noise from them) are a bit of a mystery. I know a couple people living in the hall, but none near where I would be (A2 or A18). I really, really like the people in my hall, so I would be leaving them and the daily kindness and support that they give me.
There is also the fact that I'll only be in London for about six more weeks (my ticket to DC and, more importantly, Kelly, is purchased for March 25). Of that six weeks, I already have a week booked in Gozo (many many thanks to Margaret and Bruce!), and will spend about eight days in Bristol this month and next (many many thanks to SJ!). So that only leaves about four weeks, twenty-eight or so days. Is it worth it to move for so short a time? I know I'll survive here at Batavia Mews; but I also know I won't thrive. At Raymont I might thrive, or then it could worse somehow...
Anywho... something I'll mull over for a day or so. Please feel free to give thoughts or things for me to think about. Thanks.
It's too bad that London isn't more fun for you. I envisioned you wearing your long black coat walking up the steps of a museum but I've changed that mental picture to you living in a ghetto and cooking noodles in a small dirty kitchen with a bunch of dirty people all waiting to take a shower.
Well I'm happy to report that most of the angst underlying Sunday's post seems to have gone away. It's hard to say exactly how or why it left, or what brought it on in the first place. But some things I've learned that might help for the future:
Kelly and I have lots of wonderful, amazing people in our lives that both want us to be happy and have great advice and helpful solutions.
I need a regular meditation practice; I've had one here twice a week for a few weeks, but more would be good.
When I'm stressed my inclination is to withdraw. This can be okay, even good, at times. But at this time, me withdrawing is the exact opposite of what Kelly needs. I need to keep her informed with what's going on here (even when it's not pretty).
I'll be much, much better when I'm out of London!
Right now I'm on the fence regarding moving out. I was leaning toward it but then my housemates all told me how sad they'd be if I left (some making reference to things I have fixed, others not). (to them - Thanks) One even offered to call Kelly and tell her they'd be sad, and how it's pretty horrible here, but that it's only two more months. To those who have offered me places to stay for a visit outside of London, YES and YES. So no move, but some travels. And some more meditation. Now back to our previously scheduled programing of Buddhist ethics and Kantian drivelings.... :)
Oh, but one last note. One of my great professors back in Montana, Albert Borgmann, offered his students a sort of 'key' to or formula for happiness:
Think about the things that you do that make you most happy
Think about the people that you are with when you are most happy
Think about the place where you are most happy, &
Remember these three.
I've got great people here (and many more that aren't here), and I am blessed to be able to study the subject that I love, but the place here.... well.
It's noisy in (my part of) London. I hear sirens day and night, going right by my flat about every 10-15 minutes. I am told that the next neighborhood (Peckham) has the highest gun crime rate in England. We (four blocks away) are close behind.
It's noisy too in my flat. The walls are thin. I can hear/take part in conversations in the next room over or the hallway, or with the people a floor below me. What's worse is that my room is next to the kitchen. I'm growing to associate food with noise. I know exactly when half of my flatmates eat. I'm growing to dislike people who eat late.
Our sink clogged this week. My flatmates wait for it to fix itself (like it did before). And it will, again, after I scoop out the water, plunge it a bit with my hands, and eventually buy drain cleaner to pour down two or three times. (this time even that isn't working)
A couple times this week I've made precious progress on my ph.d. thesis and upcoming (March) panel presentation. But at this rate neither will be ready in time. And, worst of all, Kelly and I are quarreling. Some of it is small stuff like dessert selections for our wedding. Sometimes it's bigger though, like how we handle and what we need under stress. We have only known each other for seven months, so these changes can be frightening. When we first met she was, to use a label commonly placed on her, a superwoman. She had grace and confidence and inquisitiveness that I found… intoxicating. I couldn’t wait each day just to see her again (thinking about it reminds me of how much I love her and how grateful I am to call her my fiancée). I was apparently not so bad off myself: meditating, living close to nature, grounded.
Today, however, we are far apart from one another. Both of us are in spiritually toxic environments, her in DC and me in S.E. London. The other night I was disturbed around 2am by some young students returning to a neighboring flat when one of them screamed at our security guard, “Wake up! I’ll git you sacked! I’ll git you sacked!" and to his friends, "Eeeez sleeeepin’!” All of that (and things not appropriate to post here) was repeated several times as his friends apparently corralled the young man into this flat.
Deep down I know this is all a lesson. And that life is flux, and that we mustn’t cling.
But I still get frustrated. I didn’t come here for lessons. I didn’t come to learn about contemporary issues in British immigration and gun crime. I didn’t come to learn about navigating relationships in difficult times. I came to get a (bloody!) university education. I came, and paid – oh so much money – to be free to be immersed in the ambrosia-like waters of Buddhist Ethics; to eat, sleep, and breath Buddhism and philosophy.
Ha!
Gosh oh golly, I guess life had its own plans for me.
The important thing, according to my Kantian-Buddhism, is not how well I do here or the particulars of my relationship with Kelly at any given time. The important thing is staying connected with my core - grounded, acting instead of reacting, observing and smiling. It is when we are connected that we succeed. It was being grounded that (I believe) helped me get here in the first place, and made me so handsome and irresistible to Kelly not so long ago.
Breathing, listening... at about 2:30 each night the sounds of the city are replaced by song-birds outside my window. They make me laugh. They remind me of home. At the same time they bring me here, they teach me to let go of how I want it to be and to love how it is.
London can be a dark and dreary place, especially these days when we seem encased in clouds and the sun, when it does cut through, sets around 4pm. 'Tis even drearier to sit around my flat (see my earlier post), or the Goldsmiths library, or most anywhere else in my neighborhood.
Luckily I have adventurous flatmates. Sjors (pictured) is one such flatmate. Born on the tiny Dutch island of (insert unpronounceable Dutch word), Sjors has since sought a life of international travel and artistic media stuff.
Yesterday we ventured south and west on foot up Telegraph Hill and then on randomly until we found Nunhead Cemetery. The place was amazing. First thing was saw? A fox! After that we meandered up its main avenue toward the burnt-out church in the middle.
I'm not sure why, but I always feel a little extra sense of peace when I'm in cemeteries. Perhaps its the R.I.P. mantra engraved on so many headstones. Perhaps it's an extra jolt of awareness that there are bigger problems in the world than those I face each day. Perhaps it's knowing that I'm surrounded by people who... can't really talk to me. It has all the people-feeling, without the people-noise. I get that in churches too - the big, quiet churches where no one talks. 'Tis nice.
In any case, I came away feeling refreshed. Last weekend we ventured to Blackheath, a very nice (posh, villagy) area not far from here. I think we're starting a tradition.
Oh, I can't help but toss in this poem I found on the Brockley wikipedia page (it seemed appropriate on so many levels):
Linton Kwesi Johnson mentions Brockley in his poem "Inglan Is A Bitch". He spells it "Brackly" as this is roughly how it sounds in Jamaicanpatois:
(Jan 16 update: I just found a poster from one resident offering anybody $300 to take their place (lease) at Batavia Mews. Yikes! Not only is it unlivable, but we're trapped! And residents are paying other people to take their places!)
The story focuses on the mouse infestation that has run rampant through the flats for the last six or so months, and also discusses a couple other problems students have faced: electrocution (from faulty wiring) and dirty mattresses.
Here at flat 4, we have had a few of our own problems:
Three days in December (19th-22nd) with no heat or hot water - (meaning no showers and lots of cold, stinky flat-mates)
Loud cleaners (who come with friends and/or chat on their cell phones in the kitchens - right next to my room)
Broken cabinets (one in the kitchen just fell off its hinges over a week ago, yet to be fixed)
We also live right on a major thoroughfare, meaning people with rooms on one side of the house (with old, thin windows) hear traffic noises day and night - the traffic never really stops. And then their is the nightclub half a block away, providing a persistent 'thump, thump, thump' of bass on Friday and Saturday nights, and the heavy 'fire' doors that are rigged to slam shut - they have mechanical arms that are supposed to prevent this, but most of those are worn out, and the creaking hinges (I'm looking for WD-40) and stairs and paper-thin walls and floors.
Hmm... Is that all? I think so. I really don't like to complain, especially about somewhat trivial matters when so many people in the world have it so much worse and I should be spending time on loftier academic-type things. But, I'm afraid that conditions here have made other thought and work and relationships quite difficult.
A friend of mine, when I told him that London was draining me, commented that he thought a Buddhist could be happy anywhere. I suppose this is a common misconception, that we can somehow retreat from the world around us with meditation or chanting or some such thing. On the one hand, I could retreat inwards to some extent, focus on immediate tasks and cultivating calm and metta. I think I did this three years ago when I was in Bristol.
But going underground and inward for a bit is not always so easy with the "householder's" life. The struggle for balance is an almost daily one, between the solitary academic Buddhist and the community and family-oriented guy from Montana. Both sides love nature and silence, and both are far removed from these in Southeast London.
And I sigh, sitting in my room listening to the banging of utensils and cupboards in the kitchen - and sirens from streets below, looking out over a grey, blustery day in London.
Where is my mind? Here? In the kitchen? Outside? Watching over Kelly as she sleeps 4000 miles away? Watching a summer sunset from my favorite perch near Missoula? Where is my mind? ha!
In looking back at a year passing I suppose we search for insights, teachings, and lessons for the coming year. Or just a quick summary to answer the question: what happened to my year?
I'll begin with my greatest insight: that no matter how great last year was, each year has the potential to be even better.
I say that mainly because, for some reason, I had the idea that at some point in my mid-20s I would reach a peak, after which life simply couldn't be as good. Granted, I had some great years, so I felt justified in thinking, "It can't possibly get better than this." For instance, going back to 2003, I had a beautiful relationship with T., the second love of my life, and began really growing to love Missoula through community and academic activities. In '04 things with T. ended and I committed myself to intensive self-improvement, with several hours each day in dharma study (via the Asian Classics Institute) and meditation, and then I was off to Bristol for my Buddhist studies MA.
In 2005 I found my feet in my Bristol studies, traveled around England, Ireland, Wales, and Spain, and developed some amazing friendships before returning to Missoula and philosophy studies. '06 began with a trip to Hawai'i, a note from my Bristol advisor that I had been awarded the mark of Distinction on my dissertation, and the rekindling of my wonderful (though long-distance) relationship with Ana in Spain. 2007
The year began well enough, celebrating with friends in Missoula. I was living in what is known widely as simply, "the 6th Street house," a dilapidated old mansion (which, legend has it, was one of Montana's brothels). An air of unhappiness filled the house, so I was all to happy to spend my time on campus, starting an intensive Philosophy of Religion (musings on omniscience and politics) class, working at the Center for Ethics, and hiding out in my office in the Liberal Arts building.
As January came to a close and the new semester began, I posted on the terrible situation in Tibet (which only seems to be getting worse). I was quickly overwhelmed with the new semester, teaching a course on Tibetan Buddhism at the University and taking a full load of courses myself.
February began with an excellent (if I do say so myself) post on Kant and Happiness. I conclude it by saying:
I like the youthful exuberance that I see in Kant's philosophy, his revolutionary anti-authoritarianism, his fist-pounding exhortations to self-development and loyalty to our moral sense, his recognition that the world provides a thousand and one distractions and excuses keeping us away from that very moral nature within us.
The premise that the world is 'for us' and that we are separate somehow from the rest of creation is the premise of our culture. It is the story we tell our children before bed, but also the story we hear on the evening news and on the corporate billboards, in the academic curricula and in the novels we read. And, according to Ishmael at least, it is the premise of a dying culture. It is a myth gone bad.
"Mistakes are almost always of a sacred nature. Never try to correct them. On the contrary: rationalize them, understand them thoroughly. After that, it will be possible for you to sublimate them."
-Salvador Dali
Me: This speaks to our reactive tendencies: problem? fix it! So much of our lives consist of 'quick fixes' and superficial bandages on problems/mistakes that go quite deep in our lives/society. How does the story in Australia go?...
So before we act [in the world/with our bodies], we need understanding [the activity of clarity in the mind]. We need to empty ourselves of notions of how it is supposed to be. From there we can look at the world anew, just soak it up. And from there also we are able to respond without preconditions, without prejudices.
With May I think things lightened up a LOT. I finished teaching/studying, regained my footing, spent time in nature (much needed!) and finally got to a Socrates Cafe!
Specifically, I started off posting a great video on the value and beauty of living for others; and my decision (finally) to definitely go to London. Then, as the semester ended, I posted a round-up of the term. After that I returned to a regular topic in my thought, Buddhism: Happiness and Community, concluding that "Community is good, but for true happiness, we need solitude."
My first post discussed (or lamented - see February stuff) my ecological footprint in Missoula, which was WAY too high. Then I went on about my thesis - apparently I was making progress - but still got overwhelmed and began pushing back deadlines. Then a nice post from a news story on nature and depression (get enough of the former and you'll likely avoid the latter), and my own particular Buddhist interpretation of depression:
Depression in my experience consists of a brooding, a mind unable to just settle, a disconnection between the world around me and my experience. Meditation then is simply the exercise in settling the mind, over and over and over again, on the breath. It's like a work-out regimen for the mind.
In my second encounter with Kelly (after the Socrates Cafe) she mentioned the writer Edward Abbey... My following blog post? Philosophy: Edward Abbey "Note to self: get/read Edward Abbey (Desert Solitaire, or whatever)... Any of you know this guy? Want to recommend anything from him?"
Hehe...
The next day (June 7th) I got to look through my teaching evaluations (holding my breath....) and found out that, in fact, most everybody had really nice things to say :) - I guess I REALLY am my own worst critic. Then I traveled home to Helena, where some movies gave me impetus to take stock in life. I also managed to get out a bit with the family:
Here we all are [me and the family] after a day in Philipsburg, MT mining for sapphires. I then returned to philosophical/Buddhist ponderings with the question of identity (another one of my regular topics), wondering:
What exactly does Buddhism teach about "who we are?" Is it to abandon such labels and live purely in the moment? Perhaps is it more to recognize the contingency of all labels, to use them but not be trapped by them? Or could it be that for some, labels, as bonds to history and other beings, are as necessary as the air we breath?
My last post of the month came on the 23rd, as by this time I was spending nearly every day with Kelly - still as 'just friends' - but friends with an immediate deep spiritual bond and some major chemistry heating things up.
Well that gets us through June; and wow there's a lot there! It interesting to look over. In one sense I'd say it's pretty unremarkable in contrast to prior years. I seemed to be following a trajectory much the same as before. Little there would lead one to expect the major changes about to take place... And 'tis those that will be the subject of a future (very soon) post.
"Christmas gift suggestions: To your enemy, forgiveness. To an opponent, tolerance. To a friend, your heart. To a customer, service. To all, charity. To every child, a good example. To yourself, respect." -Oren Arnold (borrowed from here)
That is how a friend of mine, Larry, titled a recent email to me. "Trust me, I'm trying to catch up too!" I replied.
Life has just been a whirlwind lately, returning from D.C. to London, wrapping up the term, getting sick, Christmas events, saying goodbye to people for the holidays, preparing for Kelly's arrival here, thinking about our wedding...
phewww....
Now, for the average person this might not seem like much, but for the Buddhist Philosopher things like moving around, people-stuff, and events are all mighty draining.
~
I had the pleasure of meeting with my philosophy advisor from UM, Christopher Preston, yesterday here in London and we discussed this a bit, the difficulty of combining new adjustments in life and studies. He noted the six weeks it took him to get his bearings straight when he first went to college in Durham, NE England.
I was reminded, too, of my first term in Bristol as I studied for my MA in Buddhist Studies. My first ten weeks were extremely difficult: the newness of life in the big city, five thousand miles from home, new people, new customs... any time I sat down to do homework my head was spinning from trying to process all the new sights and sounds.
And here I am again three years later, a bigger city, a bit further from Montana, more new people and customs.
So I am not surprised that my head is spinning a bit, that I can barely read two pages of my books before needing to take a walk or find some other distraction.
~
I was also asked about my meditative practice here, whether I had found a group to practice with or practiced on my own. Unfortunately, neither has been the case. As I described it, I've been basically 'coasting' from my early summer meditation practices. I'm not sure how much it is discussed in Buddhism, but I have a sense that once you reach certain plateaus in meditative cultivation it is very difficult to slide backward.
So, while my mind is itself somewhat overwhelmed by life these days, there is no attachment to it being otherwise. Whenever I do get to step back and see all this that has me so busy these days I can only look upon it with overflowing gratitude, and at times even tears of joy. From simple days on dirt roads under the big sky of Montana I have found myself working on my Ph.D. in one of the largest cities on earth and engaged to the most amazing woman I've ever met.
I'm not used to all this change, these new people, new customs, new pace of life. I'm far better suited to simpler places, simpler times. I think most philosophers are; those who stargaze, searching for 'first principles,' unity amidst the chaotic multiplicity, universals in a life of particulars. But the Buddhist knows that such are not easily found if at all, and that in the mean time it is the acceptance of change (the release of thirst) that brings freedom.
This question stems from conversations with my fiancée as well as friends here in London and could also be phrased:
Is the US or the UK a more open society?
(with regards to ideology and/or immigration)
- feel free to toss other countries into the equasion.
Post your thoughts in the comment area if you would (please).
Some random thoughts/questions on this:
Cassius Clay became Mohammad Ali (in what some call more of a political move than a religious one) in 1964 after joining the Nation of Islam - what would Americans think if someone of his fame did this today ?
The great physicist David Bohm was forced out of Princeton when it surfaced that he was a sympathiser of Communism (he later got a job in Bristol, England)
London, Madrid, and the US have all been targeted by Islamic Terrorists in the last 1o years - why? But let us not foget those in India recently as well. Are there more cases of calculated domestic Islamic terrorism?
Is America "a nation of immigrants" as JFK proclaimed in 1958 or a "Christian Nation" as John McCain and the Republican Party of Texas (amongst others) seem to believe. Can these two notions coexist? (my own sense is that 'Christian' is exclusionary - while 'immigrant' is inclusive - even Native Americans immigrated at one point).
Sigh... At last, I'm off to see my fiancee again after six weeks of separation. And the separation itself wouldn't have been so difficult I think except that we have both been under so much stress. When the world around you is just closing in, you need that other person, that life-partner, there to hold at the end of the day.
As I have told friends back in the states, this place and my month here have been an odd mixture of 'philosopher's paradise' (total academic freedom, access to vast worlds of knowledge, and an amazing advisor) and bureaucratic nightmare (poor institutional organization, dodgy neighborhoods, defunct social telephony services). I'm not sure where it all balances out in the end. It's not bad I suppose, plenty to work with and work on. And I recall that in my first couple month in Bristol I was having a pretty hard time too. So I can look forward to settling in more and a very productive January onward.
~
I applied for a job at Jamyang Buddhist Centre and interviewed yesterday. The interview went pretty badly on my part. I was worn out and a bit flustered from being late and I did far too little research on Jamyang itself. So when they asked how I would work on certain aspects, like the beautiful Talking Buddhism website, I really had painfully little to offer. I went away feeling that I had been a bit foolish and perhaps over-confident, so not very happy with myself. Luckily I was invited to stay for one of the teachings with GesheSoepa. He covered a four-fold mind training (lojong) from the Sakya tradition and it really hit home for me.
if you are attached to this life, you are not a religious practitioner
if you are attached to cyclical existence, you are not on the path
if you are striving only for your own awakening, you are not on the Great path
if you do not have correct understanding (of emptiness), you cannot attain Buddhahood.
(I may have got those a little off, but that's the gist of the training) Each step pushes one to think less of mundane concerns and more toward the highest possible service to humanity, and each has deeper explanations that would be familiar to the Tibetan Buddhist practitioner.
What resonated so well with me was the sense of attachment I had come with, attachment to the outcome of the interview and the ensuing deflation when it didn't go as planned. It seemed like each word from the Geshe's mouth and each breath I breathed deeply lessened that sense of unhappiness, helped me let go of my expectations. By then end I was smiling and able to head home with a light heart. Oh well if I don't get the job. It's a wonderful, amazing Buddhist centre and I'd love to work there, so we'll see. If not, I'm sure I'll be back to hear more wisdom and perhaps see if I can volunteer in some way.
~
In other job news, I did get hired on as a Departmental Student Coordinator here at the college. It's just a 2 hour/week on average job, but it will get me some good inside experience with the History department and with student affairs. The other coordinators and our fearless leader are all great folks (we got to know one another through a 5-hour training and a beer last week), so it should be fun all around.
~
Studies are going well too. I still haven't found a very peaceful place to get into my work. Everywhere I go there are constant disturbances, diversions, and inconveniences of one sort or another. But I'm making do, finding little moments of inspiration and progress.
I don't understand the intensity of the bureaucracy in England. Nobody I talk to understands it. The Brits don't either, but simply seem to accept it. For instance, phone/internet companies seem to compete for who can be the most complicated and difficult. Right now BT is the hands-down winner, discouraging 3 of my flatmates from getting land-lines through red-tape, long hours on hold, and lack of effort to speak in an understandable tone. Today I was celebrated for fighting through it all to establish our flat's first land line. Yay me. :) Oh yea, and the cost: $500 for installation and the most basic service on the minimum contract. Next step: wireless. Everybody is chipping in on this, so hopefully with about $100 each we can get the phone line and wireless all set up for the year...
Here in the UK I really have no desire to meet, talk with, stand near, or otherwise relate to other Americans. So much so that I sometimes try not to talk when I know Americans are around, for fear of being ‘found out.’ So far, the plan is working brilliantly.
There was a close call once, at a lecture given by some famous Russian guy now teaching in California. My housemate Sjors (from Holland) pointed out two American men and said, “Oh, Justin, there are some other Americans, actually real Americans I could introduce you to.”
After some inquiry I learned that my lack of ketchup consumption and use of the word ‘cool’ have rendered me ‘un-American.’
~
As any of my faithful readers (and you both know who you are) know, I kind of think of myself as a rather ‘deep’ thinker. So it came with great sadness one day when Sjors (the very same) described to me his hair-brain theory (look that one up in your Dutch-English dictionary) that all thought consists on a sort of ‘bubble’ – and that when someone thinks they’re having a ‘deep’ thought, it’s really just another superficial thought, only somewhere else on the bubble by itself. In effect, his theory describes all of my philosophizing as: “not deep, just different.”
Right. So now I’m un-American and shallow.
~
Most recently, I took a walk around central London with Lenart, a Slovenian paparazzi journalist. My American geography, based on cold-war era high school textbooks, doesn’t include ‘Slovenia.’ So, out of embarrassment I checked out a children’s guide to new EU countries from the college library. It tells me Slovenia is a new country, emerging from the collapse of Yugoslavia, with sunny beaches, mountain lakes, and pretty girls; also that it is quite small. Lenart supports this by telling me, “you can ski by day and have drinks on the beach by evening.” (drinks with a pretty girl, no doubt)
Lenart and I were walking in London and entered Soho, famous for its theatres, just a few blocks from Piccadilly circus (which, for my fellow Americans, is not really a “circus” in the Ringling Bros sense). And not long after we passed two girls, scantily clad and just standing there staring at everyone including us as we pass, Lenart informed me, “Ah, yes. And in case you ever have an Un-Buddhist thought… This is the place to find street girls.”
Hmmm… Un-American, not deep, and now I’m given pointers on where to purchase sexual favors (favours) in case I turn out also to be Un-Buddhist. Not bad for just four weeks.
Update (23/10/07)
Tonight, after 5 or so minutes of chatting, one of the ladies in the room below mine said, in a normal voice, “Hi Justin, can you hear us?”
“Hi Sana, yep” I answered back.
A brief conversation ensued - at basically normal speaking voice, through my floor and into Shahnaz’s room - after which the ladies decided to move to another part of the flat.
~
(today)
Last night we (Lenart, Sana, Shahnaz and I) discussed the merits of living where we do (Batavia Mews, aka Bataviamouse). Sure it's
mouse infested - I recently had one walk into my room (under the door) look up at me and leave,
noisy - traffic out front with police/ambulance sirens passing directly below every 15 minutes, a major nightclub, Venue, a half-block away, and each other through thin walls and floors.
poorly maintained - broken showers, clogged sinks, failed heating/hot water have all been faced and some actually fixed in the last month; bathroom hooks and towel racks, broken who knows when, remain unfixed.
in an unsafe neighborhood - one gang/drug related murder down the street last month, a couple mugging stories, broken car windows....
anything left out?...
But, at least:
It's cheap (by London standards). Rent is a mere £86/week, roughly $175, or $700/month per room for 20 of us... I guess in central London a tiny flat can cost £800-1500, or $1600-3000/month. Even the other student housing around here is an extra £15-25/week, which ads up pretty fast.
and
We'll have great stories to tell our kids/grand kids. As Lenart pointed out, great stories are usually based on experiences that aren't really fun when they're happening. Those people in fancy places are surely bored with it. Yay.
“I wish I could say it gets easier, but even years on, you still make mistakes. You just keep trying,” one of the ‘graded’ Ju Jitsu students told me after class on Friday.
“It is poetry in motion,” Kelly tells me of martial arts, happy that I am giving Ju Jitsu and Kung Fu a try.
“What is true in martial arts is true in all of life,” I think to myself, peaceful though mentally and physically drained.
Tired and unable to study last night I picked up a stack of photocopied and highlighted pages from Robert Pirsig's “Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance” that Kelly had long ago given me. In one section she drew my attention to Pirsig's description of the failure of his character Phaedrus to summit the holy Himalayan mountain of Kailas (Kailash), “the source of the Ganges and the abode of Shiva…” Phaedrus made the all too human error of making the journey about him, his experience and growth. For those who made it, on the other hand, “each footstep was an act of devotion, an act of submission to this holiness.”
Pirsig calls Phaedrus an “ego-climber” and the other a “selfless climber.” And for the selfless climber, as the cliché goes, it is not the destination that matters but the journey.
Being in love and with Kelly has brought me well above the clouded peaks of Mount Kailash. My mistake is in trying to make a destination of this journey called love. I recall the famous sutra by Dōgen, “The Rivers and Mountains Sutra." In it he describes the pilgram’s recognition that the mountains too are walking; those who fail to see this fail also to see their own walking, they fail to see their own relationship with reality.
Relationship is evolution, and love is the highest evolution. What the pilgrim recognizes atop Mount Kailash is not that his journey has ended, because it has not, it cannot end. The pilgrim recognizes that the true journey has only just begun. And that journey is living life fully in every step. Ha! What a joke the great religious masters play on so many of us! And sadly how few seem to get it. So many devotees will live their whole life for that one journey. And then, once they’ve been there and utterly failed to recognize the meaning of it, they will spend the rest of their poor lives raving about it like lunatics, going on about “that moment” way back when and exhorting others to go, go, go… Others, in dissapointment, will ridicule all climbers and every mountain.
But those who reach the summit in that rare stride of selflessness – they realize that it’s just another hill! They see the other holy mountains in every direction, and the fools and sages atop each of those hills as well. For them the moment is just a moment like any other, the journey up becomes meaningless, for it has passed, and the way down is meaningless, for it has not yet come.
Every step through in these noisy, unfamiliar streets of London is a moment on Mount Kailash. There is no difference. Sometimes the fool stumbles on, clinging to the past and yearning for the future. Other times in these streets a sage walks, alive in the moment and the love therein. For he knows that the holiness of the mountain is the holiness of every step.
I hear the cold has descended over Montana, while DC was balmy with blue skies. London has been cold. And not only outside, but also inside my flat. They have yet to turn on the radiator water, so we are left at the mercy of nature and our own devices. It didn’t help that someone left open a massive hall window. It was up so high that nobody could reach it. I didn’t pack for the cold, either, actually bringing some shorts: no gloves, no hat, ah, but two scarves… and a thin acrylic blanket (acrylic blankets …?).
Nicely, one of the travel alarm clocks my parents bought me over the years has a thermometer on it, so I watched as my room’s temperature shifted from the upper 50s to the lower 60s each day.
Waking up at night, cold, I started throwing extra insulation over myself: a jacket over my legs, a towel up around the shoulders. I also started filling my little wash basin with hot water, thinking the heat may radiate a bit. It seemed to help. I even ran my laptop computer, with the DVD player, the external hard drive, the lights in the room – anything I could think of that would produce heat.
There was some amusement in all this experimentation. Near the wash basin it was indeed 3-4 degrees warmer than on the other side of the room (where I happened to sleep). I also found that if I took a super hot bath and then came back to the room my own body temperature would raise the room temp about a degree.
Fun as that was, I still wasn’t sleeping well, making the already tiring experience of adjusting to London even more difficult. So I took a chair from the kitchen so I could reach the big hall window and got it partially closed, then found an ironing board and finished the job, bringing much joy to both myself and my flatmates. Then I noticed that my blanket is pretty huge and I am on a tiny bed, so I folded it in half and voilà, double the insulation and my first good night’s sleep.
Keeping warm: just another thing to keep in mind when you travel. It took me a full week to get a lot of the kinks worked out here in London, but now I am starting to feel at home. It will never be Home in the sense that Montana is, but it will be my home, for now.
I am an almost-life-long Montanan; a baptized Catholic; an ardent Atheist; a practicing Buddhist; a lover of Wisdom. I find solitude to be as essential as air, though I am at times gregarious, and very often joyful, alone and with others. I laugh at my own jokes, love learning, and love those who truly love.... anything. I have certainty in little, and little time for those who are certain of much, though admire those whose certainty leads to service of humankind.
I have a BA and almost an MA in (Western) Philosophy, an MA in Buddhist Studies, and am working on a Ph.D. in Buddhist Ethics at the U of London.
