Thursday, October 21, 2010

'My Spiritual Journey,' by The Dalai Lama

The following is an excerpt from the Dalai Lama's latest book, "My Spiritual Journey," a collection of personal memories, anecdotes and reflections on his boyhood in Tibet, his early life as a monk and his experiences as a world leader living in exile:

I am a professional laugher

I have been confronted with many difficult circumstances throughout the course of my life, and my country is going through a critical period. But I laugh often, and my laughter is contagious. When people ask me how I find the strength to laugh now, I reply that I am a professional laugher. Laughing is a characteristic of the Tibetans, who are different in this from the Japanese or the Indians. They are very cheerful, like the Italians, rather than a little reserved, like the Germans or the English.

My cheerfulness also comes from my family. I come from a small village, not a big city, and our way of life is more jovial. We are always amusing ourselves, teasing each other, joking. It's our habit.

To that is added, as I often say, the responsibility of being realistic. Of course problems are there. But thinking only of the negative aspect doesn't help to find solutions, and it destroys peace of mind. Everything, though, is relative. You can see the positive side of even the worst of tragedies if you adopt a holistic perspective. If you take the negative as absolute and definitive, however, you increase your worries and anxiety, whereas by broadening the way you look at a problem, you understand what is bad about it, but you accept it. This attitude comes to me, I think, from my practice and from Buddhist philosophy, which help me enormously.

Take the loss of our country, for example. We are a stateless people, and we must confront adversity along with many painful circumstances in Tibet itself. Nevertheless, such experiences also bring many benefits.

As for me, I have been homeless for half a century. But I have found a large number of new homes throughout the vast world. If I had remained at the Potala, I don't think I would have had the chance to meet so many personalities, so many heads of state in Asia, Taiwan, the United States, and Europe, popes as well as many famous scientists and economists.

The life of exile is an unfortunate life, but I have always tried to cultivate a happy state of mind, appreciating the opportunities this existence without a settled home, far from all protocol, has offered me. This way I have been able to preserve my inner peace.

As a child, I learned from my teachers to take care of the environment

As a little boy, when I was studying Buddhism, I was taught to take care of nature, since the practice of nonviolence applies not just to human beings but to all sentient beings. Everything that is animate possesses consciousness. Wherever there is consciousness, there are feelings like pain, pleasure, and joy. No sentient being wants to suffer. On the contrary, all beings search for happiness. In Buddhist practice, we are so used to this idea of nonviolence and to the wish to put an end to all suffering that we are careful not to attack or destroy life unwittingly. Obviously, we do not believe that the trees or flowers have a mind, but we treat them with respect. So we assume a sense of universal responsibility toward humanity and nature.

Our belief in reincarnation explains our concern for the future. If you think you are going to be reborn, you make it your duty to protect certain things so that, in the future, your incarnation will profit from it. Even though you could be reborn on another planet, the idea of reincarnation motivates you to take care of the Earth and of future generations.

In the West, when we speak of "humanity," we are usually referring merely to the present generation. The humanity of the past no longer exists. The humanity of the future, like death, does not yet exist. From a Western standpoint, we are concerned with the practical aspect of things, solely for the present generation.

Tibetan feelings toward nature stem from our customs in general and not just from Buddhism. If you take the example of Buddhism in Japan or Thailand, in environments different from our own, the culture and behavior are not the same. Tibet's natural environment, which is like no other, has had a strong influence on us. Tibetans do not live on a small overpopulated island. Throughout history we did not worry about our vast, sparsely populated territory, or about our distant neighbors. We did not have the feeling of being oppressed, unlike many other communities.

It is perfectly possible to practice the essence of a faith or a culture without associating it with a religion. Our Tibetan culture, although largely inspired by Buddhism, does not draw all its philosophy from it. Once I suggested to an organization aiding Tibetan refugees that it would be interesting to study how much our people have been shaped by their traditional mode of life. What are the factors that make Tibetans calm and good-natured? People always look for the answer in our religion, which is unique, forgetting that our environment is also unique.

The protection of nature is not necessarily a sacred activity, and it does not always require compassion. As Buddhists, we are compassionate toward all sentient beings, but not necessarily toward each stone, tree, or habitation. Most of us take care of our own house, without feeling any compassion for it. Similarly, our planet is our house, and we should maintain it with care, to ensure our happiness and the happiness of our children, of our friends, and of all the sentient beings who share this great dwelling place. If we think of our planet as our house or our "mother," our Mother Earth, we will necessarily take care of it.

Today we understand that the future of humanity depends on our planet, whose future depends on humanity. But that has not always been so clear. Until now, our Mother Earth has been able to tolerate our neglect. Today, however, human behavior, the population, and technology have reached such a degree that our Mother Earth can no longer accept it in silence. "My children are behaving badly," she warns to make us realize that there are boundaries that should not be passed.

As Tibetan Buddhists, we advocate temperance, which is not unconnected to the environment, since we do not consume anything immoderately. We set limits on our habits of consumption, and we appreciate a simple, responsible way of life. Our relationship to the environment has always been special. Our ancient scriptures speak of the vessel and its contents. The world is the vessel, our house, and we, the living, are its contents.

The result of this is a special relationship to nature, since, without the container, the contents cannot be contained. It is not at all reprehensible for humans to use natural resources to serve their needs, but we should not exploit nature beyond what is strictly necessary. It is essential to reexamine from an ethical standpoint the share we have received, the share for which we are all responsible, and the share we are going to hand down to future generations. Obviously, our generation is going through a critical stage. We have access to forms of global communication, and yet conflicts occur more often than dialogues to build peace. The wonders of science and technology coexist along with many tragedies like world hunger and the extinction of certain forms of life. We devote ourselves to space exploration when the oceans, seas, and freshwater resources are becoming more and more polluted. It is possible that the peoples of the Earth, the animals, plants, insects, and even microorganisms will be unknown to future generations. We must act before it is too late.

The Mystical Experience: A Question of What's Beyond by Rabbi Alan Lurie

Several months ago, as I was riding on the New York City subway, I glanced up at the usual band of advertising that ran over the windows and noticed something unusual: a small square poster that contained the logo of the New York Public Library, along with the following quote: "If we had keen vision and feeling of all ordinary human life, it would be like hearing the grass grow and the squirrel's heartbeat, and we should die of the roar which lies on the other side of silence." From Middlemarch, by George Eliot.

I had not read Middlemarch (or any George Eliot, for that matter) and didn't know the context, but I was immediately drawn in to this beautiful sentence, with its description of the dulled state in which most of us live and the yearning to peel back this dullness in order to experience the powerful presence of life itself. This quote struck me because I, like countless others, had briefly and partially heard this "roar", had seen the place on the "other side of silence", and had felt a kind of dying. These encounters showed me that there is a purposeful presence that underlies all creation, and that there is a oneness to everything. The experience of this presence is often called "mysticism," and Eliot's sentence is an astonishing evocation of the mystic's journey.

All mystics share a similar understanding; that there is a presence, which goes by many names (and that I will refer to as God), that creates and animates everything, from the squirrel's heartbeat to the spinning of galaxies, and that we can, through our own consciousness, connect to this presence, which is a deeper and truer reality than the one that most of us experience in our everyday lives. And through this encounter we are transformed.

When exploring mysticism, there are four essential questions that naturally arise:

1. How can one access this deeper reality?
2. What does this have to do with religion?
3. Is this "deeper reality" real, or just a biochemical reaction or delusional state?
4. Why should one care about accessing this deeper reality?

These are difficult questions to answer accurately (and briefly), because the mystical experience, like an aesthetic response to a painting or the pleasures of sexual union, transcends and resists words. So mystics, like poets, always talk in metaphor and allusion. For help in these answers, then, I will turn to quotes from a diverse, and perhaps unexpected, group of mystics:

1. How can one access this deeper reality?

Mystics, like Eliot, know that our usual experience of reality is dulled, incomplete or illusory. As Eliot notes, though, this dullness is actually a protection that keeps us from being overwhelmed by the power of the true nature of things. Mystics, however, yearn to lift this dullness, and to experience the force of life as directly as possible. In order to experience this we must, as Eliot writes, penetrate to the "other side of silence". In other words, we must first quiet the constant mental chatter that dulls and distracts us, and once the mind is quieted and there is inner silence we can begin to perceive the "roar" that lies beneath. This is the meditative practice, which is the mystic's doorway to experience God's presence. Oliver Wendell Holmes Jr., the early 20th century Supreme Court Justice, described this dynamic, in terms very similar to Eliot's, with his yearning to transcend normal perception and arrive at a truer, more powerful reality: "I wouldn't give a fig for the simplicity on this side of complexity, but I would give my right arm for the simplicity on the far side of complexity."

2. What does this have to do with religion?

We can -- and much too often do -- argue about the different teachings of various religions and their many attempts to describe the nature of God. But the true purpose of all religions is to help facilitative a connection to this deeper reality, and the mystical experience is the original spark that informs religions. Because religion often gets hijacked by those who seek power or control, we may loose sight of this mechanism, but, as Henri Bergson, the French Philosopher who won the Nobel Prize for Literature in 1921, wrote: "Religion is to mysticism what popularization is to science."

The mystical experience, however, is by no means limited to the realm of religion and does not require the life of a pious ascetic. And one certainly does not need religion or a proscribed belief structure in order to experience this presence. Mahatma Gandhi affirmed this with his simple aphorism, "God has no religion."

3. Is this "deeper reality" real, or just a biochemical reaction or delusional state?

The mystical experience is, I assume, a measurable biochemical phenomenon. This does not diminish or negate it, though, because everything that we experience, from the feeling of love to the perception of the apple in front of us, is some form of biochemical reaction in our bodies. That's how we operate. And just as we can explore the tangible qualities of the apple, we can also explore the intangible qualities of love -- and of the mystical experience. Mystics know, however, that they have glimpsed only a small part of the whole, because as human beings we are limited by our five senses, our level of development, and our cognitive abilities. But their descriptions are remarkably consistent across cultures, times and places, and give us a sense of the qualities of this deeper reality, with the recognition of an omnipresent consciousness that is the actual "material" of all existence. The 17th Century Dutch philosopher Baruch Spinoza saw this clearly, and in his treatise "The Ethics" wrote, "Besides God no substance can be granted or conceived."

Scientists who have peered deeply in to the essential nature of reality have also seen this presence. Max Planck, the founder of Quantum Physics, famously observed, "All matter originates and exists only by virtue of a force ... We must assume behind this force the existence of a conscious and intelligent Mind."

4. Why should one care about accessing this deeper reality?

Plato addressed this question more than 2,300 years ago in his famous "Allegory of the Cave." In this allegory, Plato imagines a cave in which people are bound motionless in front of a wall, staring at shadows of cut-out images which, lit from a fire and natural light behind them, slowly move across the wall. These people come to believe that these shadows of shadows are all that there is to reality, and debate endlessly about the nature of these fleeting two dimensional images. One man, though, is freed from his chains and stumbles to the light at the mouth of the cave. As he slowly adjusts to the brightness he is able to see the sun and feels its warmth. Plato writes, "He would understand that the Sun is the source of the seasons and the years, and is the steward of all things in the visible place, and is in a certain way the cause of all those things he and his companions had been seeing."

For the first time in his life this man experiences freedom, as he sees that he had been living in a cold dark cave, separated from his fellow prisoners and ignorant of his true nature and reality. This is an experience of God's presence, in which the sense of separation and the desires of the ego are clearly seen as foolish and dangerous illusions that keep us bound and ignorant. The impulse to seek this presence is to know ourselves, each other and our world as clearly as possible in order to live at the highest level.

Monday, October 18, 2010

The Color Purple by COF Member Taryn Simpson

Many thanks to COF Member Taryn Simpson for posting her blog post here.  COF invites all to join in wearing purple October 20, to honor all our brothers and sisters.  As MLK, Jr. once said so eloquently, "... And when this happens, when we allow freedom to ring, when we let it ring from every village and every hamlet, from every state and every city, we will be able to speed up that day when all of God's children, black men and white men, Jews and Gentiles, Protestants and Catholics, will be able to join hands and sing in the words of the old Negro spiritual, "Free at last! free at last! thank God Almighty, we are free at last!"  --COF Administration

Watching the news can be a depressing endeavor some days. So full of violence, political idiocy, hate and religious persecution.

 
A week or so ago, I watched a story where several teens were bullied at school because they were gay. I suddenly was thrust back in school and was the butt of jokes, mean spirited remarks and other forms of taunting once again. Yeah, I was one of those kids that was bullied. I hated school. I wondered how long it would take before the comments and taunts would stop. The school yard filled with children shouting filthy names at just a few soon grew into junior and high school students where the shouting was replaced with whispers, stares and false rumors traveling at the speed of light.
 
The first time it happened, I was in elementary school.  I was wearing a lacy dress, shiny leather shoes with lacy socks along with a hair ribbon  pinned to the the curls in my hair via rollers, Dippity-Doo, Aqua Net and bobby pins  for safekeeping.  I looked like every other little girl back in the day.  But, apparently my secret was out
During class one day, my teacher was writing on the blackboard and I raised my hand. The boys had been calling me a name and I didn't understand why. My teacher acknowledged me and gave me permission to ask the question.

"What does the word, 'queer' mean?" She thought a moment trying to second guess my reason for asking and simply stated, "It means, 'odd' or 'unusual'. She turned around and continued writing on the blackboard. I felt vindicated as I just wanted someone else of authority to tell me what I already knew. My teacher turned around again and looked at me expectantly and asked, "Did that answer your question?"


I decided to push my luck a bit further. "Does 'queer' mean the same thing as 'homosexual'?" She laid the piece of chalk in her hand onto the blackboard tray along with the erasers
 
"To be absolutely clear, the words, "queer" are slang for the word homosexual.  This slang term is meant to be hurtful towards others when used.  The word, "queer" will be used properly in this classroom, out in the recess yard and in my presence.  Have I made myself clear?"  My teacher wasn't particularly well-liked so the emphasis of her words was missed by most of the children.  I realize now that she could have gotten into a lot of trouble making that remark to a class of 3rd graders. 
 
The next morning I walked to school and saw that our school had been vandalized.  Across the main entrance, someone had painted the words; "TARYN IS A QUEER."  I was mortified, highly embarrassed and ashamed without knowing why.  I felt like I was the only one to endure this type of bullying.  As I think of it now, it's amazing to me that people are STILL being persecuted for being gay.  You might as well condemn me for having brown eyes
 
I tell you this story so that other kids that have gone through similar, not as drastic or even more extreme bullying will know they are not alone. I lived through it and discovered that life can be quite wonderful as an odd duck. So, I am asking that everyone that has read this blog to pass this post on to friends and friends of friends. As Shug Avery mused to Miss Celie, "I think it pisses God off for people to walk by the color purple and not even notice." We're here, We're Queer and there's no need to Fear.

Wear purple on October Time Wednesday, October 20 · 12:00am - 11:30pm Location Everywhere


More Info On October 20th we will wear purple to bring awareness to, and put an end to intolerance in honor of the 6 boys who committed suicide in recent weeks/months due to homophobic abuse at home and in schools. Purple represents spirit on the LGBT flag and that's exactly what we would like all of you to have with you: spirit. Please know that times will get better and that you will meet people who will love you and respect you for who you are, no matter your sexuality. Please wear purple on October 20th. Tell your parents, friends, co-workers, neighbors and schools.

RIP: 

Tyler Clementi
Seth Walsh
Justin Aaberg
Raymond Chase
Asher Brown
Billy Lucas
Zach Harrington

and all other victims of homophobia

More Musings Later- Taryn Simpson

Thursday, October 7, 2010

NAIA Presents: The 29th Annual Fall Festival & Tennessee State Pow Wow

The Native American Indian
Association of Tennessee

p r e s e n t s

The 29th Annual Fall Festival
& Tennessee State Pow Wow
15-16-17 October 2010
Friday, Saturday, Sunday, 9am - ...
Indian Food, Arts & Crafts, Live Music, Dances

Long Hunter State Park
2910 Hobson Pike
Nashville, Tennessee

$6 general admission
$3 seniors & children ages 6-12
children ages 0-5 free

Proceeds go to the NAIA Scholarship
and Emergency Relief Funds.
NAIA-TN is a non-profit tax-exempt corporation
chartered in the State of Tennessee in 1983.

Our motto is
"Indians Working for Indians"

From Nashville, take I-40 East to Mt. Juliet Road, Exit 226-A.
Go south (right) about 6¾ miles to the main park entrance.
Or take I-24 East to Old Hickory Boulevard, Exit 62.
Go north (left) on SR171 about 6½ miles to the main park entrance.

FOR MORE INFO:

Native American Indian Association (NAIA)
230 Spence Lane
Nashville TN 37210-3623
phone 615. 232.9179