Monday, October 8, 2012
the karma of a pure act
As I got older my affinity grew stronger by reading books like, "Black Elk Speaks," "The Memoirs of Chief Red Fox," "The Education of Little Tree," "The Man Who Killed the Deer," and many others. My empathy also gained strength when I moved to Minnesota in 1970, and became interested in the history, culture, and spiritual practices of the local Indian tribes: the Dakota, Lakoda, Mdewakanton, Ogalala. In the late 70's my Indian affinity inspired me to write a poem. The title was
"Lament."
"Great Indian, the wind whistles long,
lonely, sadly, searching for his lost brother.
'O my brother, come ride my currents
as the eagle.
'O my brother, listen to my lonely
song forlorn as the wolf.
'O my brother, sour with me, sense the
earth, touch the mountains, remember
my ways as your ancestors once knew.'
O Great Indian, fly with your brother
the wind once again, and share your
wisdom with me."
It was my step-son Albert who brought me into the Mdewakanton community in Shakopee, Mn.
Albert did work for some of the Indians families on the reservation, and over a period of years became a trusted worker. I was having chronic pain in my right hip. I asked Albert if he would ask his Indian friends if they knew anyone who could perform a healing ceremony. My alternative to a healing ceremony was having total hip replacement surgery, so I was highly motivated to participate in the less invasive healing ceremony. One of Albert's friends recommended a pastor of an Indian/Christian church, on the reservation named Jerry. Albert gave me Jerry's phone number. I phoned Jerry, and set up an appointment.
Jerry did not live on the reservation, but in a home in Shakopee. On my way to his home I happened to see a bald eagle flying west in the same direction I was traveling. This I took as a favorable and reinforcing sign. At the door, Jerry and is wife meet me and welcomed me in. Jerry showed me to a lounge chair, and before I sat down, he put a colorful blanket with Indian symbols around my shoulders. He asked me what is was that needed healing. I told him it was my right hip. He walked around me saying prayers in an Indian language. I believe he was invoking the powers of the North, East, South, and West, plus the Great Spirit in my healing behalf. Then he began to fire up a bundle of sage, and smoked me from head to toe, and side to side, all the while saying prayers. The healing ceremony had now been completed, the blanket was removed, and I sat down in the chair. We then spend time talking about our individual lives in relation to our spiritual path.
I had four additional healing sessions with Jerry. I must say I was feeling better, and my pain was more bearable. On my last session, I had brought a gift for Jerry. It was a print that was given to me by my daughter for my birthday. The print was mounted on a wood board, that was trimmed with a dull, red paint. The print was a creation by a Native American named, Nakoma, and was called, "The Circle is My Path." It was written in verse, and was a blend of poetry and prose, with drawings of Native Americans and animals native to North America. It is a kind of autobiography and spiritual evolution of Nakoma. He is a taste, one verse of its poetry and prose:
"We are all on the rim of the world and at its center at the same time.
We are attached to the ripples that emanate from its center-life is so.
We ride the waves-the wind turns us.
We flow as the prairie flows, and we are bound to the sacred land-
walking our path in a sacred manner."
I loved that print. It had brought me great joy, insight, and understanding. Truthfully, I struggled intensely with myself to give it up, but in the end I was able to release all attachments to it, and gave it to Jerry with a pure heart of gratitude.
Two years after my last healing session with Jerry, I attended, along with my wife and step-son Albert, a Pow Wow, on the Mystic Lake complex. It was a North American gathering of Indian dancers. The dancers were there to compete for prizes. There were also tents where food was sold, and various arts and crafts were displayed and for sale. As we were looking at the various arts and crafts displayed in the tents, I found a tent with not only arts and crafts, but also historical artifacts, and portraits of old chiefs. One of my deep affinities was with an Ogalala, Indian named Crazy Horse. I have a strong desire to draw the likeness of Crazy Horse. I thought this might be an excellent place to ask about a portrait of Crazy Horse.
My eyes set on a short, middle aged man, black hair in a pony tail, and a thin black mustache, who I supposed was the owner. I moved to where the man was standing and asked if he had a portrait of Crazy Horse. He said , "Yes," and I followed him to the corner of the tent where he pointed to a sketch on a wall. "Is that Crazy Horse," I asked dubiously. He answered, "Yes., I drew it." I asked, "What did you use as a model?" He replied, "My imagination."
I explained to the owner that I got to know something of Crazy Horse's history by reading, "Black Elk Speaks" and "The Memoirs of Chief Red Fox." The owner walked me back to the center of the tent and picked up a book he was currently reading and handed it me. It was about Custer's last stand at the Little Big Horn River. I do not recall the title. As I handed the book back to the owner I caught sight of the print, "The Circle is My Path." I had told the owner that I had had this print, and how much I enjoyed it. He told me that when he created it there was confusion about the direction the verses should be read; he said "That the verses should be read left to right, and not down and up." Surprise and excited, I said, "Your Nakoma!." He said, "Yes." I immediately pushed out my right hand and shook his hand vigorously. I really wanted to give him a huge. I told Nakoma the story of my healing sessions with Jerry, and how I gave Jerry my beloved print of, "the Circle is My Path." Unknown to me at the time, Albert, after hearing my story of giving my copy of the print to Jerry, had purchased a copy of the print, and Katie, Nakoma's wife handed me the print.
There in that magical moment, all seeming incidental points were magnetically made to connect, and there I stood with the return of my print, and Nakoma, the creator of the print. This was the effect of the eternal law of Karma, initiated by my pure act of gratitude.
If there is any reader that would be interested in purcharsing a copy of "The Circle is My Path" you may contact Nakoma at, nakomaarts@yahoo.com.
Thursday, March 22, 2012
the origination of evil and the devil-part two
Thursday, March 15, 2012
the origination of evil and the devil-first part
Friday, February 24, 2012
fantastic voyage within
As I look and hear from eyes and ears of the flesh, I can only see and hear things from the visible. material world. The phenomenal world has beauty and uniqueness, and a certain vague, universality about it; like a snowflake, its pattern is distinctive in all cases, but its structure always has six points. How many different pattern, permutations, can nature create? Answer, How many grains of sand are there? However, regardless of the almost infinite possible patterns, it is that hint of unity that attracts us. We therefore, can occupy an entire life time searching for the one pattern that leads us to the essence of the snowflake. Take science for an example, they have been searching for the "missing link," that spices of ape-man that bridges the gap between ape and man. They have been searching since Darwin. Or, 'once we map the human Geno of the brain we will understand the human essence.' Or, 'once we find the "god particle" we will understand the mysteries of the Universe.' However, all science can really find is more paradox. Our rational mind is not capable of penetrating paradox to find satisfactory understanding. That which is beyond the phenomenal world cannot be known through the rational mind, but we need the self-awareness of the rational mind to take us to the threshold of the world within, the spiritual world. In order to know the world beyond the material world we must see and hear with spiritual eyes and ears. Rumi, a Sufi poet put it this way, "We rarely hear the inward music, but we are dancing to it nevertheless."
We humans have begun to search, what we call the "last frontier," outer space, not full well understanding its great risk and difficulties, but the idea of searching inner space is beyond, even our imagination. Even the most bright and courageous of our race would stop and hesitate at the paradox of using their consciousness as a light to explore the depths of their unconscious. Meister Eckhart, a philosopher, mystic of medieval Germany, explains "The soul has two eyes, one looking inwards and the other looking outwards. It is the inner eye of the soul that looks into essence and takes being directly from God." Who has the spiritual and moral courage to look God directly in the eyes? Turns out, that going back 5000 years or more there were ancient sages who had found a way into the inner circulations of the unconscious, traveled there at will, and came back to tell of their great adventure. Not only did they tell of their adventure, but also told of their method of entry into to the unconscious, and have passed down that method to generation after generation in an unbroken chain, to those who are prepared to walk the inner path. Pythagorus, an ancient Greek philosopher, and one of those later travelers into the inner world, used the letter Y to explain and distinguish the two paths. Maximinus, an ancient Romeman poet wrote a poem using the Pythagorean Y as the object of his poem:
The Pythgorean Letter two ways spread,
Shows the two paths in which Man's life is led.
The right hand track to sacred Virtue tends,
Though steep and rough at first, in rest it ends;
The other broad and smooth, but from its crown
On rocks the Traveller is tumbled down.
He who to Virtue by harsh toils aspires,
Subduing pains, worth and renown acquires.
But who seeks slothful luxury and flies,
The labor of great acts, dishonor'd dies.
What these brave, ancient voyagers of the inner world found is that the manifest Universe is issued from and sustained by the Infinite. Remember now, that this Infinite is called by many names, God, Vishnu, Jehovah, etc. but each name gives no meaning to It, because a name is finite. It is absurd to use the finite to describe the Infinite. If you try to objective the Infinite you will wind up within a paradox. If these ancient voyager's discovery wasn't sublime and fantastic enough, they also discovered that the Infinity, wonders of wonders, is within us. We in It; and It in us. St. Paul, in his Letter to the Colossians, Chapter 1, verses 25-27, centuries later echos the ancient voyagers findings: ..."It is the task of fully proclaiming his (God's) message, which is the secret he hid through all past ages from mankind but has now reveled to his people. God's plan is to make known his secret to his people, this rich and glorious secret which he has for all peoples. And the secret is that Christ is in you, which means that you will share in the glory of God."... The Christ Principle, the Buddha Principle, the Infinite, the face of God is within you; you are It, you are That. There also is an echo of this profound thought practiced every day by way of a pose, usually practiced in India, but not strictly. It is also practiced in our country, as also in many other countries. The pose is taken when meeting another person: hands are placed together in prayer position and placed by the heart, there is a head bow at the same time saying a Sanskrit word, "namaste." Namaste means, 'the divine in me, recognizes and acknowledges the divine in you.'
It is because we are essentially a spark of the divine, that the Kingdom of God is ever present. It is the outward looking eye of the soul that captures our attention and builds a veil, dimming the vision of our inward looking eye of the soul. We must learn that the inward eye of the soul sees into essence, and is the vehicle that can unite us with the Divine. We will let Jakob Bohme, the Mystic Cobbler, have the last word, "For the Book in which all mysteries lie is man himself; he himself is the book of Being of all beings, seeing he is the likeness of the Divinity. The Great Arcanum lies in him; the reveling of it belongs only to the Divine Spirit."
Wednesday, February 1, 2012
air jordan's
I had to ask myself the question, "What was the motivation for these young men to stand out side for hours, in front of a store to purchase a pair of $180 gym shoes?" On a deep psychological, level these young men where motivated by a desire to bolster and ease the pressure on their low self-esteem. The "sporting" of the "Air Jordan's" would bolster their self-esteem on several levels: it would express their "with it" fashion sense, it would express their savvy decision to affiliate with the greatest, basketball super star, Michael Jordan, and would express and enhance their male prowess.
As I contemplated this process of compulsive behavior, I remembered I have witnessed it many times, under many different guises. For instance, two people arguing over politics, one a progressive the other a conservative, and inevitably the argument erupts into an exchange of anger. How about, co-workers on the same level, where one makes a remark about the other's job competency. The co-worker whose competency came under question is seething to the point of revenge. These examples are quick scenarios that compulsive behaviors are played out with great frequency in our every day lives. Compulsive behaviors are ubiquitous through out human interactions because their origination lays deep within the human psyche and once developed, cannot be willfully contained.
There is a Sanskrit word, samskara, which describes this condition of deep compulsion: deep conditioned tendencies to particular ways of thinking and acting, usually negative or self-willed, which have been dug in the mind through many years of repeating the same thoughts over and over. I should add, that these mind-molds are so acute and ripe that when they are triggered, can manifest unconsciously. This unconscious manifestation of deep seeded mind-molds reminds me of a old, 1956 science fiction film called, "Forbidden Planet." The plot, with out getting too detailed was, an earth scientist, Morbius was sent to a planet to study the race of beings that resided there and seemingly, with out a known cause, vanished. He was to find the cause of their mysterious disappearance. It turns out that the race of beings were the Krell. A highly advanced race that had created a massive energy depot that supported their own mental capacity. They were able to materialize any desire they might have thought. The unintended consequence, however was that not only did they create their desires, but also unconsciously created "Monsters of the Id." These monsters of the id were created from deep seeded, self-willed mind-molds, and manifested unconsciously as destroyers of any force or resistance that stood in the way of fulfilling the primary desire. Eventually the Krell's entire civilization was destroyed by their unconscious creation of these Monsters of the Id.
Above we have discussed the definition of mind-molds, using the Sanskrit word "samskara." More interesting and enlightening is an inquiry into the process of development of mind-molds. Here it should be no surprise we use another Sanskrit word, "asava" to aid in our quest for understanding. Asava means, an intoxicant distilled from fruits, flowers or trees, and is used in the Dhammapada, (a Buddhist book of the teachings of Buddha) as a reference to the process involved with human sensations.
The Buddha would say that for cognition to happen three elements must come together: the eyes, the object, and the act of attention. When all three come together there is sensation The initial times you indulge your senses in a particular way there is only a sensation. It has no emotive energy behind it. When however, you start thinking about the pleasantness or pain of the sensation over and over the process of asava begins. The fermentation of that sensation begins and the craving is brewing until intoxication appears. Then it cannot be classified as a sensation, but as an obsession. At that point you cannot help thinking about it; it cannot help thinking about itself.
If the Buddha said that now that I have exposed and brought your awareness to the process of mind-molds my job is over, I turn the work of dissolving them to you. That would be like giving a lighted candle to some one who is ankle deep in gasoline, and say ' now that you can see where you are try not to burn yourself.' The Buddha being a master psychologist and the Compassionate One would not leave us in the lurch, but would reach back his hand and teach us tried and true practices that would assist us in changing negative mind-molds into positive mind molds. He would remind us however that success rests in our hands.
One of the most effective practices for change is meditation, for it is a practice that gets to the heart of behavior, the mind. The practice of meditation trains and disciplines the mind, (read my blog on "meditation-a discipline of mind). Another practice is changing one thought for another; changing a negative thought with a positive thought. A perfect example of this is The Prayer of St. Francis of Assisi:
Lord, make me an instrument of thy Peace.
Where there is hatred, let me sow love;
Where there is injury, pardon;
Where there is doubt, faith;...
There are other practices and strategies, but the above two are powerful. You could gain a synergistic effect by combining the two; using St. Francis's prayer as a point of focus with your meditation. Memorizing the prayer and saying it silently to yourself at a pace where you can give one pointed attention to the meaning of each word.
So! Are you, an ordinary person, ready to open and enter the door to the "fantastic voyage within;" where you search with the light of consciousness into the depths of the unconscious, and come back whole to tell the tale.
Tuesday, January 24, 2012
addendum to my two cents-again
I wrote a poem in the early 80s called, "Withdrawal," It was a general rant about the political and economic conditions. There was a phrase "dropping out," a carry-over from the 60s, and it spoke to my feelings then. I would picture myself up north in Minnesota, some where by Lake Superior, breathing the fresh air, reading Emerson, and just being, "...safe in my sylvan home, I'll tread on the pride of Greece and Rome..." At the same time I was reveling within my imagination, their was a nagging thought of "copping out," another 60's carry-over phase. I could not step away from the feeling of responsibility I had for my family, neighborhood, city, and country, and the poem expressed that paradox. My great urge was to leave all that frustrated me behind and withdraw, but at the same time I felt a deep responsibility to stay put and work it out. Here is the poem:
I'm leaving behind the rest of my kind, and removing myself from the race.
I'm washing clean society's scene, and rinsing my mouth of bad taste;
Withdrawing from muzzled mouths, machine-gunning blanks words with each round;
From too polite salutations and too contrived departations;
From the printed accounts of gruesome, terrible crimes;
From the noise and the dirt and the slum and the grime,
I'm leaving this ocean of bullshit far, far behind.
As the earth spins in orbital glide, the sun shades its back and lights its front side.
Untolded lives end with the night, untolded lives begin with the light.
Life seems to float on a pool of extremes,
Flowing from best to worst or worst to best, with occasional levellings.
I'll not be swayed. I am determined to leave, and once gone there will be no weeping on
my shirt sleeve.
Withdrawing from an economic mutation: freeze enterprise, castlepolism, and presschasing
power; from increase the exports, decrease the imports, tariff davenports, duty free
whiskey quarts; from inflate the dollar, deflate its value, tax all the income-who is the victim?
From grow with the country-consume a T.V.; use a lawyer regularly to gain a 3% rate in G.N.P.
From inflation, taxation, and money orientation, I am taking leave of it all, and I'll burn my credit cards as a symbol of withdrawal.
As the earth spins in orbital glide, the sun shades its back and lights its front side.
Untolded lives end with the night, untolded lives begin with the light.
Life or death, dispositions of mind, where place the emphasis?
The decision is mine.
I'll not bend. My mind is made up. I'm withdrawing from a political circus that features
corrupt; from the codes and statutes obstructing my time; from the courts and their
justice, mentally blind; from the in-forms, the out-forms, the forms for forming forms, and the formed forms from forms. Take all the forms, roll into a wad then blast it into orbit and form a new moon.
I'm leaving. I tell you, and it isn't too soon.
As the earth spins in orbital glide, the sun shades its back and lights its front side.
Untolded lives end with the night, untolded lives begin with the light.
There are flowers that open full bloom to the sun, and close tight to the moon;
Accommodating the change of day in a most thoughtful way.
I'm leaving! and when I'm "safe in my sylvan home, I'll tread on the pride of Greece and Rome.
Safe I'll be, without ambiguity. Safe I'll be separate from society. Safe I'll be withdrawn from
that which annoys me.
Egad! I am a fool. To escape is mad. I am only accepting the good part of the world while
withdrawing from the bad.
I'll use flower wisdom: accept life's extremes, then accommodate the differences as my
awareness deems.
I am going to stay; mingle with my kind; accept all behavior as human and where I can,
adjust and refine.
You can see that the writing of my poem seemed to quite my frustration, but did not dispel it. I have learned to put the objects of my frustrations into fluid concepts, realizing that there is a dynamic process operating that shifts all things alone a circular path. For instance, if the liberal, political bar has current impetus and exuberance, it will not be long before the conservative, political bar will over take the liberal bar, with its own impetus and exuberance. The particular energy of one extreme has within itself the seed for the creation of its opposite, and as prescribed by nature, the wheel will also land at the center. There is an ancient Chinese symbol called Tai-Chi Tu (diagram of the supreme ultimate). It is a very common symbol and most people know it as the symbol of Yin and Yang. It is a precis symbol showing the movement of the principle of extremes and the inherent cosmic balance. So the best remedy to political frustration is patience. When the conservative have political dominance, their own energy will create impetus for their liberal replacement and visa, versa. Its inevitable!
Thursday, January 12, 2012
my two cents-again
What is troubling me is the ideas coming from the presidential candidates. With all of their professed experience and political wisdom I assumed they would understand more of the process of law making; especially since some candidates are or were members of Congress or governors. There seems to be no connection with the platforms they aspire to as a possible president and the process to enact their ideas. This is baffling to me. Also baffling to me, is that the guardians of our democracy, the press and we the people, let this pass without saying, 'Will your ideas be able to pass the 435 members of the House of Representatives. and the 100 members of the Senate?' With the entrenchment currently locking up our Congress, I believe that that question is vital, and to put a wobble into the mix, who really knows what the 2012 political make up of Congress will turn out to be. Yet, the candidates go on like their ideas will automatically become law merely on the strength of their vocal declarations. It seems that in their zeal to become president they unconsciously display their ignorance, and in like manner, our non-questioning displays our unconscious ignorance. Any ideas without the will to enact them are impotent.
Another troubling point comes from the candidates use of sarcasm and criticism. They seem to think that if they use sarcasm and criticism, on any level, it some how shows their wisdom, and of course, if they say these wise things, repeatedly in a sarcastic and critical tone they can sway the minds of the voters. The voters who hear these sarcastic and critical opinions over and over tend to use these opinions as "talking points" for arguments, and they can become strengthen when other people they relate to reinforce these opinions. It is my experience that a critic is not the wise man or woman. The critic is unconsciously exposing his low self-esteem and the accompanying crutch of arrogance. The sarcasm is used like an adjective providing an emotional power to his criticism. A wise man need not use criticism, because he washes all opinion through the strainer of his center of authority, his heart of hearts. He washes opinions clean, contemplating their validity, and either discards, accepts or rewashes them. Here is a suggestion in light of our discussion from Gautama the Buddha: "Do not accept something as true because of repeated hearings; nor because it is in scripture; nor because of logical arguments; nor because of philosophical reasoning; nor because it agrees with a preconceived idea; nor because of a person's seemingly ability; nor because it comes from your teacher."
"Be lamps unto yourselves. Betake yourselves to no external refuge. Hold fast to the truth, as a lamp."...
Here is a list of troubling ideas candidates say:
"The American people want this, that, and the other thing." When they say what American people want, they are not talking about all 35o,000,000 million of us. They are talking about what a relatively small minority of ideological sympathetic people want. What the majority of the American people want is, according to poles, for elected officials and corporate businesses to do their public and civic duties and find solutions to our country's domestic economic problems and bring economic justice for all.
" We must get government out of the way of business in order to grow our economy. Then the market forces can self-regulate our way back to economic health." The self-regulating markets are seen as some kind of mystic entity with omnipotent powers of balance. These markets are man made, and are therefore subject to the greed, hubris, and mistakes innate in the human condition. I do not know about you reader but my retirement account took a 50% decline, while it was in hands of the smartest money managers. I don't trust self-regulating markets.
"We are so many (put in your own percentages) away from the GDP before the "great recession." Using the GDP output of the middle 2000's as a bench mark goal for our economy to return to health, is insane. Why would we use a mark of high risk, closed eye regulation, and greed as an economic bench mark. Lets set realistic goals, sound goals set by healthy standards for the common wealth, in which to grow our economy.
Lastly, as a way of tribute, I like to hail the democratic movement for economic balance and justice coming from the "Occupy Wall Street-the 99%" group; especially those from the Oakland, Cal. area.