Spiritual Path

Spiritual path: 

 it's not considered a spiritual path, not really, or at by me it isn't - claiming spirituality seems to mark a separation point between where I am right now and somewhere else I'd like to be, that it's something accomplished or allowed by grace. This isn't to discount that there's higher states of consciousness, nor argue the value of prayer and meditation. There is a spiritual path to follow and it's simply life, everyday existence, mundane, and full of worthy experiences. It's spiritual by virtue of its seamless nature and nothing has to be done to make this happen. So meditation is an aspect of this path, as is prayer, yoga, and a host of other extraordinary things I love to explore - they're all just points of life. 

nothing special, really. 

the question that's often asked then, is - why do them at all?

and right now I'm looking for an answer, an honest one,  and all I can say is that I'm drawn to do so, I find value in their practice, meaning, and great enjoyment. It's not about being spiritual, but that life calls me to explore along the edges, allowing me a different expression, and my aim is to be true to what my life is asking. Yet it would be no different if I were called to be an accountant, or a lawyer, or any other of the countless expressions life has offered to be explored. They each have value if they're an authentic call and our answer is returned in a heartfelt manner. 

in this light then, every path would be spiritual.

and they are.

the problem comes with separation, when there's a belief that something other than the joy of what we're doing has a greater of value. A single path has now becomes many and all leading us astray. Life never asks us to be anything other than what we are, we will never become more spiritual than we are at this exact moment, and no greater truth will be realized than the joy of simply being alive. The path is always seamless to the steps we're now taking.

it's a spiritual path indeed.

~

Peace, Eric 

Value

Value:

there's value in our stories, or perhaps it's better thought that our stories add value to the world by virtue of their content, and that it's left to our consideration as to what exactly we wish to tell and how much of our belief is actually invested. Everything's a story. Yet most, maybe all, are left unexamined and simply believed by repetition or that they were told be trusted sources. A story isn't necessarily fiction, but it's never the full version of any truth, only partially so, and altered through the filters of our beliefs and the faith we have in those who first told them. We've inherited most of our stories, parents, teachers, clergy and media, have all told us how the world should be. 

and we've mostly believed them all. 

so first we examine what's meant by stories - and for this we return to the inherent emptiness of our lives in terms of our values, that everything first exists without a story told, and even now every story is known through our relation with concepts and objects of the world. Somethings only exist as stories and once examined are seen in truer light. Instead of examples here it's best left for our own inquiry,  an individual and personal examination of what we think is true - and that's with the easy process of simply asking ourselves about the stories we tell of anything or anyone, and if we know them to be absolutely true and how we know for certain that it's so. 

it's being honest with and about ourselves.

and with this in mind we are free to dismiss stories that no longer serve us, some that never did, nor ever will, and now create our own personal myths, self creation stories that add value to our lives. Or perhaps we could remain as story-less as possible, totally free of investment of beliefs and see the world through our original view of innocence and purity. Maybe. I'm not sure of that's an option for most of us, or even really necessary. Just knowing that the world exist through stories seems to be enough to offer freedom. My own belief is that adding value is important, that life is best lived with certain meaning and that stories serve this purpose well. Of course that's another story, and one I have chosen to tell myself. I have that freedom. But only because I recognize first that it's a story within endless and ever larger stories told about the world. 

in this light - my story now has value. 

if only to myself, and for however long that it's believed. 

~

Peace, Eric 

How The Buddha Grieved

How the Buddha grieved:

it's how the Buddha grieved, a purity of response that held no suffering attached to it, an appearance of utter sadness that left nothing in its wake. This is our grief as well, just as pure in its experience but we attach beliefs to its engagement, clinging to memories of how life was in sacrifice of every present moment. Grief is meant to flow, to wash over us in cleansing ritual and leave us ready to let go and continue with the process of life, living with the honor of having known, loved, and now grieved for such a cherish aspect of our lives. 

it's how the Buddha grieved. 

we are meant to experience our loss with kindness and respect through however it arises, not to force a false response of how we believe the process should be. The anguish of loss is pure, even beautiful in the depths of its display, such love coming to the surface through the tears of letting go. There is no proper way to grieve but to surrender to this natural response, allowing all that cares to show up, whatever emotion or response, the time and respect its due. Grief has its own duration, no rules to its length of stay, and our only true role is to honor it through its visit in whatever way each moment calls for, to simply be present to our own brokenness and sorrow - without need of being fixed or our grief to pass quickly. We are simply present to our own loss and sorrow. 

our grief is pure. 

it's how the Buddha grieved.

suffering occurs not through sorrow but by our own clinging to ideas of its expression. We forget the purity of this experience, that it belongs to every life, and that no aspect of it should be denied. Grief is part of living, natural, a birthright of our lives. The Buddha grieved because he hurt, experiencing sorrow, and never claimed to be above any part of life at all. The Buddha knew sorrow - and yet he was untouched by any cause of suffering. That's the gift of purity, allowing each experience to arise without manipulation or need for the situation to be other. 

to just allow.

whatever arises...belongs.

even our wish for things to change.

in this purity - it's how we live and grieve. 

~

Peace, Eric 

Our World Is Intimacy

Our world is intimacy:

in it's truest sense, our world is intimacy, life, the seamless touch of our senses to the vibrancy of what they're offered to explore. The world is ours, deeply so, we belong to it in ways not ever really imagined, but we know it's true through the intimacy of our senses, how life rushes to meet their varied functions, and that it all takes place in such easy fashion. From first waking we see the world again, immediately, every objects eager for our gaze. Our ears translate frequencies, a dialog of silence and vibrations, meaningful through the pure experience of this listening. From scent, taste, and touch, we know the world this way, intimately so, truly.

and this is the value of simply sitting, allowing some time to reacquaint ourselves with our senses, not only on the surface level of navigating through our daily concerns of living, but deeper, a re-acquaintance of this intimacy so long forgotten. This is the gift of pausing, any moment, to just slow ourselves amidst activity and feel the world again through our senses.  It'a all here now, everything, immediate, and available to be known through deepest ways possible. We pause and explore what's found right now, for just a moment, remembering that this is who we really are, sensory before translation, seamless. Our world is intimacy. 

yes, our world is intimacy, and this is how we fall in love with life, again and again, infinitely and through every lifetime. It's not reincarnation but rebirth, each moment new in what it offers and we have never experienced it exactly as before, reborn to know it just as it is now, fresh, vibrant, constant and in motion. Life in continuation. Our senses tell us everything is brand new again, reborn for a single experience that's already shifting to another frontier to be explored, no real borders existing between what's perceived and the explorer. 

it's how we truly know the world. 

intimately. 

it's what the senses know.

there is really only, always, the immediacy of now. 

our world is intimacy.

~

Peace, Eric 

Showing Up

Showing up:

well more than 20 years ago I read Steven Pressfields wonderfully inspiring book The War of Art and made a vow to follow the authors suggestion of a daily writing practice, it's what authors do he claimed and cited Somerset Maugham's example of inspiration showing up at his desk every morning at 9 a.m - and I've written daily ever since.  My writing mantra is "words on the page" and that's it really, nothing I write has to please anyone, not even me, it only has to meet my commitment of daily writing. Personally, I've found that this practice has grown in value through the years, I've never not been inspired to sit before the keyboard and see what words will find me in the morning. This, along with my daily meditation practice, seems to leave me endlessly creative, always on the verge of a sudden inspiration. The secret, such as it is - is that I don't care what I write about, as long as I'm writing and that it flows with a certain energy that matches my commitment to the page, a vibrational coherence of the many factors that bring me to my desk so early in the morning. 

I've never not been inspired to write, 

of course this doesn't mean I'm always satisfied with what I write, or that there isn't a pause for words to gather, a length of time left quiet of both words and inspiration. Silence is part of the game, essential, and the only requirement to play this game is patience. So my true commitment isn't to simply rush words to the page and call it a day (although I have done this before, on the fly, just to make sure my vow is honored) no, I am committed to the dynamics of writing, the ebb and flow of creative ideas, and the energy of silence, waiting, patience, not knowing when words will find me, but absolutely certain that they will - whenever conditions meet the auspiciousness for their arrival. 

my only role is showing up.

to be part of this auspicious occasion.

all of this really happens on its own, I'm less involved than would be imagined, simply another aspect of whatever creative force has come to be expressed. An urge to write appears, every morning, without force nor demand of my appearance - a whisper really, soft, beckoning from silence but with a promise of words wishing to be heard, only waiting now for my arrival. The writer is just another part of the creative process, and again my role is to surrender, showing up and then allowing words to be written through me, participating in this ancient art of creative display. It's the very same energy that invoked our far removed ancestors to carve figures on a cave's wall, no reason except giving in to that quiet urge wishing for expression. 

every morning is an auspicious occasion.

our only requirement is showing up.

and this how writing happens.

~

Peace, Eric 

What Can We Do?

what can we do? That's an important to question to ask these days, a time of turmoil in so many ways, across the world there's discord and violence, and here at home we're plagued by political infighting and a what feels like a cold civil world between those with different visions for our country. What can we personally do to help heal a nation, our neighbors, the world?

anything?

of course I don't have an answer, it's too large a problem for any solution I might offer - yet I know what I can do, for myself alone at least, and then I can offer the benefits gained within to others, in some subtle ways at first, perhaps a smile offered to a stranger, or sincerely listening to the concerns of others who see things quite differently than I do. Small things, moments really, adding up to a daily affair, a lifetime of offering peace to others. It's what I can do. 

it's what we can do.

let's start by being a bit selfish, in a certain way at least, and by this I mean let's focus on ourselves alone at first, bringing a sense of peace and well-being into our lives and then we turn this light towards others. For me this is done through meditation, it's a healing art, and more so it's an insightful practice that opens me to aspects of reality that I long ignored, or had no means of truly understanding. Meditation caused a deep relaxation of my concerns about myself, my creative potential, how I relate to others, there simply came an ease and lightness of being through no effort of my own. Simply sitting, twice a day for me, an ancient practice that felt new and refreshing. I've continues for over 30 years. But that's my practice and might not be yours. There are infinite ways of healing, meditation being only one, effective and personal, once learned it's continued on our own, a private affair that contributes to the healing of the world. The Transcendental Meditation movement (of which I'm not associated with) call this the Maharishi Effect, being that if a small percentage of people meditate they will raise their vibrations to the point of causing others to vibrate to a higher plane as well. Maybe, I'm not a skeptic on this but I also just don't know, it's above my meditation pay grade. I only concern myself with what I know for certain from my own experience and growing understanding, which is always changing and expanding. 

so here's what know, my own Maharishi Effect is real and certain, that I am more peaceful now, less reactive and more prone to listen and respond in ways that reflect a growing kindness. My selfish hour in the morning and another sitting later in the afternoon gives me a large reservoir of peace from which to draw from and it's what I offer to the world from the very moment I walk away from my meditation cushion. My meditation continues through the day, a vibration quality that truly affects my every relation, from casual encounters to long friends and family. I have a bit more to offer from myself now, a more sincere and reflective kindness, a deeper peace to give away. 

what can we do? Well meditation is my option, but it might not be yours, there may be another healing path for your to follow, or several maybe. What I do know is that the world won't heal without us, not without our direct participation of healing our own inner wounds that keep us involved in conflict. Could we really suppose that a person of peace would cause a harmful response to others? That wars would continue to exist if leaders were just a bit more enlightened? If we heal ourselves the healing of the world will follow. Our own enlightenment brings us the leaders that deserve to lead, and it begins with whatever healing path one decides to follow. 

it's what we can do. 

~

Peace, Eric 

Know Myself

Know myself: 

that I more aptly know myself as a process, a bundle of seeming parts that act somehow as the whole affair of Eric - and even this is just a seamless show of life, one more aspect in an endless display of energy and structure, appearing and then gone once more. To know myself as this, sensing both my temporariness as well as my essential nature, is to relax into the very process of my being. Life is handling every important function of this, air given freely to my lungs, heart beating without thought or command, every cell perfectly aligned to hold my form, and the world just right for my existence. I am grateful for it all, everything, for the whole process that somehow allows this self to arise and come to know itself as alive, existing, complete within the world.

and that just as easily...none of this may have happened.

to know myself, is to appreciate the impossibility of truly knowing a self at all, that no aspect can be taken from the whole, examined, analyzed, and declared independent in its own existence. I exist only as a process, being fully complete through interactions of infinite sources that will forever remain unknown, mysterious in their cooperation. 

and yet I know myself as this impossibility.

somehow.

that seems a magic word to me, somehow, as it defies any need explanation - somehow I exist, and I'm aware that it is so, and none of it can truly be explained. Again, as a process, there are infinite points of my existence, each essential, nothing that can be taken from the whole and held as my example. I am those infinite points, I am the motion that brings about their connection, the urge that gives cause for interaction, the original vibration that made it all happen. 

everything. 

and somehow. 

to know myself as so. 

~

Peace, Eric