Inspiration #001

Having Buddhist leanings means that my take on spirituality will probably be a bit different from folks who are Christian or Muslim or Jewish or Hindu or Native American, etc. In fact, I used to think that I was “spiritual but not religious,” as they often said in my support groups. I felt this way for a long time. However, a couple of years ago I went to the trouble to actually look up the word “spiritual” to see what it really denotes. Well, it turns out that the word “spirituality,” logically enough, has its root in the word “spirit;” spirit denotes (according to most of the standard definitions I’ve read) the soul or supernatural spark which drives consciousness and the body. So spirituality is, in its most bedrock definition, concerned with the idea of a supernatural soul or eternal self. Well, as a Buddhist, I feel that I’ve seen the truth of anatta, or “no self,” which means that I don’t perceive of an unchanging, eternal “me” behind my experience and consciousness. No permanent spark (there may be a spark there, but its not permanent); no everlasting spirit. OK, but what about Truth...Beauty? I always felt that spirituality was the intimate friend of Truth and Beauty, that the epiphany which I perceived as part and parcel to the spiritual experience was concerned with the Supremely Aesthetic.

Apparently, I was wrong. Particularly in the Western, theistic religions, spirituality appears to mainly be concerned with man’s identification with a supernatural essence, bestowed upon him by God/Allah/Brahma/the Great Spirit. As nearly as I can tell, anything else beyond that is optional. This may explain why most spiritual literature of the Great Theisms leaves me cold. It seems that this idea of spirituality is mainly concerned with power (the personal identification with the All-Powerful, God) and clinging (to the idea that we must possess this great gift, this thing called the “spirit”); no matter how sincere and heartfelt the motivation. It just seems so trifling, so limited in scope, so unmindful of the real miracle happening right now, under our very noses. This miracle has nothing to do with the supernatural, or our supposed eternal souls, or all that high-blown power worship that passes for religious experience for many people.

I’ve decided to stop using the word spiritual to describe myself. The word is dead to me now; it’s no more meaningful to me than a cheap advertising slogan, now that I understand what it really points to. It’s too shallow and narrow to describe my experiences of profound connection to Just What Is.

Likewise, it’s tough for me to find much inspiration in writings that originated in the English language; very few in the English-speaking world appear to have experienced the same things that I have, nor to have interpreted them in the same way. Now, I know that this can’t be precisely true; reflection on our common experience tells me that at least a percentage of my fellow beings in this culture must be having the same profound “awakenings” I experience from time to time. Maybe this society’s overlay of Judeo-Christian theology and supernaturalism serves to suppress the expression of such culturally-unapproved experiences. However, sometimes I come across something that tells me that I’m not alone.

Here’s two small snippets of writing, from the English-speaking world, culled from my collection of inspirational things:

“What he actually said is that life is blissful, there’s joy everywhere ― only we’re closed off to it. His teachings were actually about opening up the joyful or blissful nature of reality. But the bliss and the joy are in the transitoriness. Do you see this glass? I love this glass...it holds the water admirably. When I tap it, it has a lovely ring; when the sun shines on it, it reflects the light beautifully. But when the wind blows and the glass falls off the shelf and breaks, or if my elbow hits it and it falls to the ground, I say ‘of course!’ But when I know that the glass is already broken, every minute with it is precious.” ―Mark Epstein in the documentary The Buddha (2010)

“I had always heard your entire life flashes in front of your eyes the second before you die. First of all, that one second isn't a second at all, it stretches on forever, like an ocean of time... For me, it was lying on my back at Boy Scout camp, watching falling stars... And yellow leaves, from the maple trees, that lined our street... Or my grandmother’s hands, and the way her skin seemed like paper... And the first time I saw my cousin Tony’s brand new Firebird... And Janie... And Janie... And... Carolyn. I guess I could be pretty pissed off about what happened to me... but it's hard to stay mad, when there's so much beauty in the world. Sometimes I feel like I'm seeing it all at once, and it’s too much, my heart fills up like a balloon that’s about to burst... And then I remember to relax, and stop trying to hold on to it, and then it flows through me like rain and I can’t feel anything but gratitude for every single moment of my stupid little life... You have no idea what I’m talking about, I’m sure. But don't worry... you will someday.” ―Lester Burnham (Kevin Spacey’s character) in the film American Beauty (1999)

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