It's been far too long since I've made a post. Sometimes it seems Life and Time have a fun way of conspiring with each other to ensure you have plenty of one or the other but rarely both. Summer is always a busy season, especially in recent years, full of visits with family and friends and good weather to get out and enjoy nature and take care of home maintenance and improvement projects. I had hoped things would be a bit different for me with this blog, but this time of year becomes a mostly "off the grid" time for me, when I'm not at work.
And of course this year there have been a few extra things vying for my time and attention too, there's usually something. Making sure to keep time in all this for meditation, study and prayer has been difficult. I can't say I've been wholly successful, it is my first year in nearly 20 years of actively practicing any faith on a regular basis, after all. I remind myself though that the love of Sri Bhagavan is such that even when deeply 'asleep' and practicing nothing, the simple act of reaching out in the right direction brought a response. So whatever it is I am able to do right now is enough, as long as I try and continue to grow. Anything else is is only me judging myself in ignorance and ego, and so I endeavor to keep learning and at the very least I never miss a Monday at my local Temple and keep my Somavar Vrat.
These things are not all that has been holding back this post though. Often I will think of all kinds of things I want to write about and have all these lines and paragraphs composed in my head, but when I sit down and look at the online document form, or a piece of paper, suddenly it's all gone and I can't think of a thing to say. It's so tempting to ramble off in different directions as well, but I am attempting an important exercise with this series of posts and so I need to stick it out and finish. I must have stopped and started this post at least a dozen times, and still I haven't been able to finish it. So, I attempt to begin again:
In High School, (grades 9 -12), I explored the other Abrahamic systems including many of the forms of Christianity. As I learned about its history, I found myself angry in a way I'd never felt before. A mix of outrage and despair began to form that grew stronger as I learned more, an anger I've only been able to let go of in the last several years. I read translations of the Talmud, Torah, Koran, the Book of Mormon and various versions of the Bible, read the earliest translations of the Bible I could find, looking for something that made some kind of sense to me. I read the Books of the Apocrypha, historical treatises on ancient Christianity and its spread, and found myself back in ancient world mythology again, at the roots of the First Testament's Book of Genesis in Babylonian myth - at least, according to the western scholars of the time.
I also began to learn Philosophy, beginning with classic Literature and Drama then moving back to ancient schools of thought and Philosophy. Both this and my reaching the age of decision in my Father's Church began my own deeper exploration of what those "things I had always known to be true" really meant, in a deeper context.
An Aunt on my Mother's side helped to initiate that introspection. The Guru that had helped me for such a short time had guided me to several visions, one of which left me with a profound message for her. That connected us in a way that I had not been able to find with others, as it turned out that she and I share a few basic beliefs that no one else I knew did. She remains one of the few in my family who have a true and strong faith, and to this day is one of the few people I am close to who I can have any theological discussion with at all, as most won't even consider it. Without her there at that time I might have fallen into complete despair, even though we only agree on a few points. We live in different States and I wasn't allowed to talk long distance on the phone much because of the cost. We only saw each other about once a year. But after a few short conversations I began to think deeply about the ontological implications of reincarnation and panentheism, (this last is a word I only learned much later). The most profound of those realizations were the following:
Understanding these things, realizing that no one else around me believed or understood them, and being unable to find anything else to really match them helped to fuel that growing sense of being lost and alone that was starting to grow. It was difficult because on the one hand, inside I felt such love that it almost bordered on pain, but all I could see in the people and beliefs around me was what seemed to be the exact opposite. But no one else seemed to see things that way.
And then I traveled abroad for the first time. The US suburbs today are, in general, fairly remarkably insular communities, for all this country's reputation as a "melting pot", but it was so much more so back then. I had never really been anywhere outside my local town and it's neighboring communities for more than a few days, save for trips to my Grandparents in Cincinnati Ohio and the occasional vacation in Florida as a kid. I had certainly never spent any real time in the nearest large city to my home, Boston. Traveling to London and living in the suburbs around it, as well as having the opportunity to easily jump from there to Europe for a weekend was an eye-opening experience. I was exposed to all kinds of cultures and ideas, albeit diluted in the greater culture of the UK. And I encountered, for the first time, Dharmic philosophies and beliefs.
Of course, I was a western teenager and London or not, it was the late 80's. So the closest I came to Hindu philosophy was a brief introduction to ISKON - there must have been other communities around, but this is what was most accessible to me. Still, it was a wonderful thing to read the Gita for the first time, and find others with beliefs closer to my own than "New Age" Spiritualism. I finally learned a bit about Sri Ganesha and his significance, as well. But, I couldn't grasp or accept everything they espoused, for several reasons. And it was also there that I discovered Buddhism.
For the first time I found a belief system that almost completely agreed with my own. At first it was a welcome and soothing brilliance, but there was still something missing... an emptiness to it that made it feel incomplete. Still, I learned as much as I could. Most of it, I discovered later, was Zen Buddhism, and this became something of a fall-back system for me years later when I gave up my search. Of course at the time, I thought I had found what I was searching for, it even matched much of what the Guru in my youth had taught me. The feeling of incompleteness only came later, and it intensified after I returned home to the US and my home town, and found myself once again hemmed into the small and limited culture there. At least by that time I could drive and get away sometimes.
I couldn't handle the change when I came home. The isolation I felt was too much for me on top of the culture shock of coming back and the negativity thrown at me by my peers for simply having lived somewhere else. I was told I had a nervous breakdown, checked into an inpatient specialty hospital and labeled 'Bi-polar' and 'Clinically Depressed' and dosed up with medications - sometimes so much that I could barely stay conscious for "Family Therapy" sessions with my parents.
In reality, yes, I was depressed. I think most people in my position would have been, and my age contributed as well. For a long time I completely believed the diagnoses at face value, but I no longer believe I had true clinical depression or bi-polar disorder. I know people who really are clinically depressed, some are among my close family and friends. I recognize now that what they have is not what was wrong with me. But I was depressed, and in that depression I stopped practicing any meditation and mindfulness. All that was left was anger, a sense of loss, and a growing sense of attachment to the material world around me.
I learned a couple of years later that there is a Buddhist sect that believes that once a seeker has begun on a path and reached a certain point, they must not be allowed to stop until they reach a certain further point on the path. Apparently, it's a fairly regular thing that some seekers will try and leave the monastery during this time and give up, and when that happens the monks will drag that seeker back to their cell and keep them there by any means, until that person has broken through. Because the alternative is a slow slide into insanity.
I don't know if this is true or if it is what happened to me, but it feels about right. If it is, then it was certainly meant to happen, just as I was meant to slowly find my way out of it again. Either way, I wasn't the same person after I left that place, on any level. And in some ways I was more isolated than I was even after coming home the first time, though I wasn't told much of the reason for that until after I graduated High School. I kept the vision of a fresh start in College, in a larger and freer world, in front of me like a beacon and pushed through by force of will.
Once there, I did start over. I didn't think much about the past or seek to begin practicing again, deciding instead that it must have been a kind of dead end. Instead I began to look towards the Ancient World belief systems, with a sense that the answers I was looking for were there but lost to millennia of persecution by Abrahamic faiths. But there had to be places that it had survived. I got into Neo-Paganism and Wicca, practiced Tarot and learned Holistic healing, joined the SCA (Society for Creative Anachronisms - not a religious group but a good place to learn), learned about Shamanistic cultures and beliefs from all over the world, delved into cultural Anthropology and read the works of the Golden Dawn, Anton LaVey and others. It was both a mighty step backwards and a chance to learn many very useful things that I believe were necessary for me to learn and which I'd had no chance to earlier. Much of it fell by the wayside, interesting pursuits but unfulfilling and missing something vital that I still couldn't put my finger on.
Of course in all of these philosophy, anthropology and comparative religion classes, I did encounter Sanatana Dharma once again, and in several forms that were new to me, but once again I didn't feel a connection. There were several reasons for this, the first being the poor level of information available even at a moderate sized University at the time. Compared to the rich and detailed information available at our fingertips today, only 20 or so years later, it was pathetic and confused - certainly confusing for me. The Hindu theology presented was entirely Vaishnava, Shaiva was not represented at all. I felt no connection to that system of belief, as the end goals were described as very similar Abrahamic belief - the seeker, upon achieving Mukti, would live with God in His city for eternity, sharing His Bliss and Serving Him. I already knew this wasn't my own belief, so there seemed to be little for me there. However, I did get to read the Ramayana and selections from the Mahabharata aside from the Gita for the first time. I loved them and wished I could have read them sooner.
We also touched on various schools of Buddhist belief and practice, especially the first school as begun by Siddhartha. But it was presented as something outside of the greater fold of Sanatana Dharma, and the terminology goals were very confused. It's possible that I was just not meant to grasp it at the time and the systems were presented accurately, but that isn't how I remember them. And of course we also studied Taoism, which I quite enjoyed, and Confucianism. Fascinating, but again, not what I was looking for.
Then in my Sophomore year, the school began offering Tai Chi classes for Dance credits - which I needed for my Fine Arts major. I remembered how much I had enjoyed meditation, and this appealed as it offered the chance to practice meditation without Buddhism - I was still avoiding it - while also learning some self defense. I continued the class into the second semester, when I was in a car accident. I was only a passenger, and most of the damage was to the car and a tree, but I did end up with a fractured sternum. Still, I went to class and did the best I could, and had a breakthrough - a shock of what felt like electricity from the soles of my feet to the top of my skull which left me a laughing pile on the floor and with a much better range of motion than I'd had up until that point. I hadn't been able to laugh in over a month, or sneeze or cough or yawn... the Sensei was concerned at first and then laughed along with me.
The next week I had a followup with my Orthopedic specialist in which they x-rayed my chest to check the progression of my healing. The specialist was pretty surprised and had to compare films a few times. He said the injury was far further along in healing than he would expect it to be and couldn't seem to wrap his mind around it. I was grateful for the better range of pain-free motion, but I was also kind of spooked. I kept up the classes for the rest of the semester, but stopped putting the kind of concentration into the meditation routines that I had before. I don't think I even realized it at the time.
My Junior Year I jumped at the chance to return to the UK, back in London on a work Visa in the summer and then studying and taking my Internship during the school year. It was a brilliant time, and in many ways it was like coming full circle. I still didn't return to Dharma, but in other ways things were as wonderful as they had been the first time I had been there. And then I came home and the circle did indeed complete as things slid downhill once again.
(To be continued...)
First Post in the Story
And of course this year there have been a few extra things vying for my time and attention too, there's usually something. Making sure to keep time in all this for meditation, study and prayer has been difficult. I can't say I've been wholly successful, it is my first year in nearly 20 years of actively practicing any faith on a regular basis, after all. I remind myself though that the love of Sri Bhagavan is such that even when deeply 'asleep' and practicing nothing, the simple act of reaching out in the right direction brought a response. So whatever it is I am able to do right now is enough, as long as I try and continue to grow. Anything else is is only me judging myself in ignorance and ego, and so I endeavor to keep learning and at the very least I never miss a Monday at my local Temple and keep my Somavar Vrat.
These things are not all that has been holding back this post though. Often I will think of all kinds of things I want to write about and have all these lines and paragraphs composed in my head, but when I sit down and look at the online document form, or a piece of paper, suddenly it's all gone and I can't think of a thing to say. It's so tempting to ramble off in different directions as well, but I am attempting an important exercise with this series of posts and so I need to stick it out and finish. I must have stopped and started this post at least a dozen times, and still I haven't been able to finish it. So, I attempt to begin again:
In High School, (grades 9 -12), I explored the other Abrahamic systems including many of the forms of Christianity. As I learned about its history, I found myself angry in a way I'd never felt before. A mix of outrage and despair began to form that grew stronger as I learned more, an anger I've only been able to let go of in the last several years. I read translations of the Talmud, Torah, Koran, the Book of Mormon and various versions of the Bible, read the earliest translations of the Bible I could find, looking for something that made some kind of sense to me. I read the Books of the Apocrypha, historical treatises on ancient Christianity and its spread, and found myself back in ancient world mythology again, at the roots of the First Testament's Book of Genesis in Babylonian myth - at least, according to the western scholars of the time.
I also began to learn Philosophy, beginning with classic Literature and Drama then moving back to ancient schools of thought and Philosophy. Both this and my reaching the age of decision in my Father's Church began my own deeper exploration of what those "things I had always known to be true" really meant, in a deeper context.
An Aunt on my Mother's side helped to initiate that introspection. The Guru that had helped me for such a short time had guided me to several visions, one of which left me with a profound message for her. That connected us in a way that I had not been able to find with others, as it turned out that she and I share a few basic beliefs that no one else I knew did. She remains one of the few in my family who have a true and strong faith, and to this day is one of the few people I am close to who I can have any theological discussion with at all, as most won't even consider it. Without her there at that time I might have fallen into complete despair, even though we only agree on a few points. We live in different States and I wasn't allowed to talk long distance on the phone much because of the cost. We only saw each other about once a year. But after a few short conversations I began to think deeply about the ontological implications of reincarnation and panentheism, (this last is a word I only learned much later). The most profound of those realizations were the following:
- It's one thing to believe in reincarnation, and even to believe that each life is a journey of lessons and growth of the soul, influenced by past actions and lessons. But who is that soul? Some identify it as the same person who looks out through the eyes of their body in this very birth. But thinking about it, I began to realize that the "I" which so many people identify themselves with, the personality, experiences and thought patterns of this current birth, is not who any of us really are. That when these temporary forms die, those things fall away to become a small part of a greater consciousness - the true observer. And that when we are reborn to the material worlds, that observer who we truly are is masked along with its experiences and knowledge in order to allow us continued growth, unhindered by preconceptions and old experiences, in the new birth. It's a poor metaphor in comparison, but just like the person you are in this birth is not the same as the child you were when you first burned your hand on a stove or the teenager you were when you had your first crush, the experiences and personality of this life is not "You". And the person you are in this life - the collection of experiences, neuro-transmitters and neural pathways - will most likely never remember or recognize previous incarnations. This last seems like simple logic on the surface, easily dismissed, but really think on its implications for a while and you may find it's not quite so simple to truly grasp.
- If there is no Heaven or Hell in the sense Abrahamics teach, then what are those states of grace and disgrace that all belief systems describe? They are states we impose on ourselves. If God doesn't judge, that leaves only us to measure our own actions and judge ourselves. We reward or punish ourselves according to the merits of our own actions and how they affected others and the world around us, in each birth. And possibly some of these rewards and punishments can be taken between births as well, though that is something none can be certain of. I didn't realize it yet, but I had hit on a loose description of the basic functions of Karma.
- If we are each a small piece of God, each on a journey of growth and learning, what does this make us to each other and where to we end up when the journey is done? Certainly not Heaven, since that doesn't really exist as a place in that sense. I thought about this for some time, and eventually had a vision of a light indescribably brilliant, vibrating is ways we can both perceive in these material forms and in ways we cannot, and on a scale that is inconceivable even when compared to the scale of our small Universe. The radiance of that brilliance breaks away into motes, rays and sparks which dance across dimensions, some of which we perceive in these bodies as "reality", until eventually they fall back into the radiance of the greater whole. This vision has stayed with me, even in the darkest years of this birth when I have forgotten other lessons, and gives me a sort of comfort.
Understanding these things, realizing that no one else around me believed or understood them, and being unable to find anything else to really match them helped to fuel that growing sense of being lost and alone that was starting to grow. It was difficult because on the one hand, inside I felt such love that it almost bordered on pain, but all I could see in the people and beliefs around me was what seemed to be the exact opposite. But no one else seemed to see things that way.
And then I traveled abroad for the first time. The US suburbs today are, in general, fairly remarkably insular communities, for all this country's reputation as a "melting pot", but it was so much more so back then. I had never really been anywhere outside my local town and it's neighboring communities for more than a few days, save for trips to my Grandparents in Cincinnati Ohio and the occasional vacation in Florida as a kid. I had certainly never spent any real time in the nearest large city to my home, Boston. Traveling to London and living in the suburbs around it, as well as having the opportunity to easily jump from there to Europe for a weekend was an eye-opening experience. I was exposed to all kinds of cultures and ideas, albeit diluted in the greater culture of the UK. And I encountered, for the first time, Dharmic philosophies and beliefs.
Of course, I was a western teenager and London or not, it was the late 80's. So the closest I came to Hindu philosophy was a brief introduction to ISKON - there must have been other communities around, but this is what was most accessible to me. Still, it was a wonderful thing to read the Gita for the first time, and find others with beliefs closer to my own than "New Age" Spiritualism. I finally learned a bit about Sri Ganesha and his significance, as well. But, I couldn't grasp or accept everything they espoused, for several reasons. And it was also there that I discovered Buddhism.
For the first time I found a belief system that almost completely agreed with my own. At first it was a welcome and soothing brilliance, but there was still something missing... an emptiness to it that made it feel incomplete. Still, I learned as much as I could. Most of it, I discovered later, was Zen Buddhism, and this became something of a fall-back system for me years later when I gave up my search. Of course at the time, I thought I had found what I was searching for, it even matched much of what the Guru in my youth had taught me. The feeling of incompleteness only came later, and it intensified after I returned home to the US and my home town, and found myself once again hemmed into the small and limited culture there. At least by that time I could drive and get away sometimes.
I couldn't handle the change when I came home. The isolation I felt was too much for me on top of the culture shock of coming back and the negativity thrown at me by my peers for simply having lived somewhere else. I was told I had a nervous breakdown, checked into an inpatient specialty hospital and labeled 'Bi-polar' and 'Clinically Depressed' and dosed up with medications - sometimes so much that I could barely stay conscious for "Family Therapy" sessions with my parents.
In reality, yes, I was depressed. I think most people in my position would have been, and my age contributed as well. For a long time I completely believed the diagnoses at face value, but I no longer believe I had true clinical depression or bi-polar disorder. I know people who really are clinically depressed, some are among my close family and friends. I recognize now that what they have is not what was wrong with me. But I was depressed, and in that depression I stopped practicing any meditation and mindfulness. All that was left was anger, a sense of loss, and a growing sense of attachment to the material world around me.
I learned a couple of years later that there is a Buddhist sect that believes that once a seeker has begun on a path and reached a certain point, they must not be allowed to stop until they reach a certain further point on the path. Apparently, it's a fairly regular thing that some seekers will try and leave the monastery during this time and give up, and when that happens the monks will drag that seeker back to their cell and keep them there by any means, until that person has broken through. Because the alternative is a slow slide into insanity.
I don't know if this is true or if it is what happened to me, but it feels about right. If it is, then it was certainly meant to happen, just as I was meant to slowly find my way out of it again. Either way, I wasn't the same person after I left that place, on any level. And in some ways I was more isolated than I was even after coming home the first time, though I wasn't told much of the reason for that until after I graduated High School. I kept the vision of a fresh start in College, in a larger and freer world, in front of me like a beacon and pushed through by force of will.
Once there, I did start over. I didn't think much about the past or seek to begin practicing again, deciding instead that it must have been a kind of dead end. Instead I began to look towards the Ancient World belief systems, with a sense that the answers I was looking for were there but lost to millennia of persecution by Abrahamic faiths. But there had to be places that it had survived. I got into Neo-Paganism and Wicca, practiced Tarot and learned Holistic healing, joined the SCA (Society for Creative Anachronisms - not a religious group but a good place to learn), learned about Shamanistic cultures and beliefs from all over the world, delved into cultural Anthropology and read the works of the Golden Dawn, Anton LaVey and others. It was both a mighty step backwards and a chance to learn many very useful things that I believe were necessary for me to learn and which I'd had no chance to earlier. Much of it fell by the wayside, interesting pursuits but unfulfilling and missing something vital that I still couldn't put my finger on.
Of course in all of these philosophy, anthropology and comparative religion classes, I did encounter Sanatana Dharma once again, and in several forms that were new to me, but once again I didn't feel a connection. There were several reasons for this, the first being the poor level of information available even at a moderate sized University at the time. Compared to the rich and detailed information available at our fingertips today, only 20 or so years later, it was pathetic and confused - certainly confusing for me. The Hindu theology presented was entirely Vaishnava, Shaiva was not represented at all. I felt no connection to that system of belief, as the end goals were described as very similar Abrahamic belief - the seeker, upon achieving Mukti, would live with God in His city for eternity, sharing His Bliss and Serving Him. I already knew this wasn't my own belief, so there seemed to be little for me there. However, I did get to read the Ramayana and selections from the Mahabharata aside from the Gita for the first time. I loved them and wished I could have read them sooner.
We also touched on various schools of Buddhist belief and practice, especially the first school as begun by Siddhartha. But it was presented as something outside of the greater fold of Sanatana Dharma, and the terminology goals were very confused. It's possible that I was just not meant to grasp it at the time and the systems were presented accurately, but that isn't how I remember them. And of course we also studied Taoism, which I quite enjoyed, and Confucianism. Fascinating, but again, not what I was looking for.
Then in my Sophomore year, the school began offering Tai Chi classes for Dance credits - which I needed for my Fine Arts major. I remembered how much I had enjoyed meditation, and this appealed as it offered the chance to practice meditation without Buddhism - I was still avoiding it - while also learning some self defense. I continued the class into the second semester, when I was in a car accident. I was only a passenger, and most of the damage was to the car and a tree, but I did end up with a fractured sternum. Still, I went to class and did the best I could, and had a breakthrough - a shock of what felt like electricity from the soles of my feet to the top of my skull which left me a laughing pile on the floor and with a much better range of motion than I'd had up until that point. I hadn't been able to laugh in over a month, or sneeze or cough or yawn... the Sensei was concerned at first and then laughed along with me.
The next week I had a followup with my Orthopedic specialist in which they x-rayed my chest to check the progression of my healing. The specialist was pretty surprised and had to compare films a few times. He said the injury was far further along in healing than he would expect it to be and couldn't seem to wrap his mind around it. I was grateful for the better range of pain-free motion, but I was also kind of spooked. I kept up the classes for the rest of the semester, but stopped putting the kind of concentration into the meditation routines that I had before. I don't think I even realized it at the time.
My Junior Year I jumped at the chance to return to the UK, back in London on a work Visa in the summer and then studying and taking my Internship during the school year. It was a brilliant time, and in many ways it was like coming full circle. I still didn't return to Dharma, but in other ways things were as wonderful as they had been the first time I had been there. And then I came home and the circle did indeed complete as things slid downhill once again.
My Senior year started well but devolved into a morass of confusion and negativity, and near the end I left the campus to live at my parents' home and commute. I had stopped meditation again, even with Tai Chi, in fact I stopped practicing anything at all. I even gave up searching, learning and trying to find my path, I ditched it all and turned to material life with a sense of loss and inevitability. I had become obsessed with the idea of loss of innocence, a concept I had never given much thought to before. And while many good things happened to me during the next decade, over the long view things were on a slow spiral down into a form of oblivion.
(To be continued...)
First Post in the Story
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