March 6, 2010

• Sometimes

  Sometimes

  
  

  There are times when I'm meditating that I can't tell the difference between lives. I'm not talking about reincarnation, past lives and all that jazz. It's this life that we're living now. We say it's a life but it's really many lives all run together. In a sense each day is a life. I reckon we could break it down further and say each moment is a life. It goes the other way too. Each week, month, year, decade, etc. This is something that I think is unique with the human animal. It appears to me other animals can meditate or get into altered states of consciousness. They probably can't do it on command. For that matter we probably can't either. At least not the run of the mill we. So I was meditating this morning and I remembered all these dogs that I've had over the years. The hard part was I remembered some things about each of them that brought up regret. I did things then that I wouldn't do now. I don't think I was ever out and out cruel to an animal but some of the things I did that I didn't think were cruel then I think are cruel in this present life. The odd thing is I don't feel that way about most people. I do, however, feel that way about my teachers. No matter how much I loved and respected them then it was not enough now, in this present life that I'm living today, this morning. It's not morning now. At least not here where I sit as I type this.

  So, what's the big deal? Nothing. Everything. It's not a big deal and it is a big deal. It's a realization and a realization should be a big deal even if it's not because it's new light, new understanding. The problem with new understanding is it makes everything that went before it different. It may not be any different but we can never see it the same way again as long as we understand differently. Over here, in my world, understanding is very important. It's the greatest force we can create in ourselves. I didn't think of that all by myself and say it. Someone else said it. The truth is a strange thing. We don't invent it or own it. We discover it. Thousands, maybe even millions, have discovered it before us, but it's not ours until we discover it for ourselves. That doesn't stop us from thinking it is ours just because we recognized it when someone else said it. Recognizing is not the same as realizing. To recognize means to know again, to recall to mind. We can recognize a memory but that memory may not be the truth. To realize, however, is to become fully aware of something; to understand clearly. If it seems like I'm splitting hairs or getting hung up on semantics there's a reason for that. Over the past forty years I have been in the business of trying to communicate the incommunicable. It's a really tough job if you take it seriously, and I do. Not serious as a heart attack, but I do see it as serious as life and death.

  We don't understand each other because we don't have the same meanings for words. We all imagine we do but it's evident from life that no one in the world understands anyone else in the world. It's why it can be such a violent place. History is one long war punctuated by brief spells of peace. We don't usually see it that way but when we begin to look at it more objectively we see that we are an incredibly violent species. The jury is still out on whether we're going to wipe the planet clean of life with nuclear fire. Some have already decided but that's their opinion until it happens. Then it will be what's so. Until then it's still up in the air. There's still hope. Is there really hope? Probably not but that doesn't matter because we need hope. The better quality hope is preferred but almost any hope will do in a pinch. Low quality hope is like dirty water. It's better than no water at all if you're dying of thirst. Sometimes I feel regret for who I was and what I did. I try to remember that a little every day. It helps me to remember not to do that again, not because the regret is so bad but because I really want to live by the understanding I have today. I told someone the other day that I loved them. I don't think they believed me. You see, love is a function of who we are, not what or who the other person is. When we begin to understand who we are and why we're here we are without excuse. We love them because they're there, not because they're lovable. After we understand that sometimes we get it and sometimes we don't. We never get it until after we begin to understand it.
  

   

  • 11:56 pm
  • 27 Comments