Chapter 12
Still sitting there, watching the mother and child, Lindy asked me, “Do you think humans are naturally good? Is it human nature to be moral?”
“Well,” I said, “the Buddhists do. But that doesn’t mean I do. I mean, who am I to call myself Buddhist? I’m a western mind filled with western myths and prejudice and I just dig and dig Buddhist thought and just try to see where it takes me. I guess in some sense I’m Buddhist - like a brave Dharma Bum in true Kerouac fashion.”
Lindy frowned. “You totally didn’t answer my question. First you spoke of a group’s opinion and then you twisted it all up into some crazy rant about whether or not your western ass can understand the Buddha Dharma. I asked if you believed humans to be naturally good!” She was all excited now, probably tired of hearing my thoughtless ranting.
“Oh boy,” I sighed. “This is a tough question. It calls into debate whether there is a natural good and evil. And everyone disagrees so much and there are all these western ethical theories like utilitarianism where happiness is the only good in and for itself and it’s thereby everyone’s moral obligation to promote the greatest amount of happiness for the greatest number of people. And at a glance it sounds good - I mean, try to be creative social force that promotes the welfare of the whole but when you dig deeper there are all these disputes about such a theory alienating people and, in such and such a case would the theory work - like if you were stuck in a cave by the ocean and the tide came in and there was just one hole to get out and a fat man dove into the hole and got stuck. He can breathe out the other side so he’ll live. Meanwhile there are seven of you in the cave and you happen to have a stick of dynamite. To promote the greater good would be to shove that stick up his shorts and blow him to bits but is that really justified? And then there’s Kant...”
“Jake, you’re nuts!” Lindy yelled, causing several folks to look up from their sherbert. “You are philosophizing and talking crazy and, once again, avoiding my question. Go with your intuition for God’s sake!”
“Alright, alright. Honestly, I don’t know. I’m inclined to say people have a bad nature because I see how destructive we’ve been, destroying rain forests, causing global warming, starting wars and genocide, all in the name of controlling nature, trying to own the means of production so as to make some money - some green paper no less! Well, maybe not always. There’s ideological reasons that drive people to insanity. And look what we’ve done - we’ve invented a bunch of weapons that now hold us all in check. We’ve become slaves to our own creations!
“On the other hand, I’ve seen babies smile and grown-ups cry. I’ve seen amazing athletic triumphs that were human virtue embodied. I’ve read incredible poetry and seen some truly beautiful people - and I’m not talking about looks. There are people that break my heart in such a way that I can not doubt the goodness of mankind. And so I’m stumped.”
As I was saying this a child was playing with a big rubber ball in the plaza ahead. She played under a smokey air, no doubt the product of the lumber factory three miles south.
“What about you?” I asked Lindy.
“I tend to have hope,” she said. And these words did the question beautiful justice. And yet, what right do we have for hope? The 20th century was a disaster, a regular armageddon. I took the ideology of the 19th century Hegel and Marx and crushed it into the dark existentialism of Sartre and Nietzsche. Millions of deaths and we went from a history with purpose to the absurdity of life. Why? Hope is largely unjustified.
And thank God I discovered Buddhist thought. The Buddhist feels the sadness of the world deep within their heart, but the Buddhist sees it on a deeper level and thus says their prayers, cried a tear, and seeks that deep internal harmony that is at the core of our very nature. And for the Buddhists, that nature is naturally good.
“Lindy, sometimes I cry for the world.”
“So do I, Jack.”
Surrounding us was a silence that embraces - holding you there quiet and warm.
Lindy softly asked, “What’s your life all about?”
“Boy,” I said mildly surprised, “we sure are getting into some thick areas today, aren’t we?”
“Is it alright?”
“Yeah, it’s good to talk like this. It teaches us about each other and about ourselves. Can I ask you to answer first?”
“Fair enough. You know, I’m trying to open and embrace imagination. It seems to me that it’s imagination that connects us to our past and puts us right here in the present. I mean, you look at that kid out there,” and she pointed to the red cheeked bubbly kid, at this point chasing that big rubber ball like it was a space ship. “He’s got imagination and he’s centered, focused, present, and really real. As real as a tree or a poem. You dig?”
“Yeah. Imagination. And I could say, ‘Well, we need a grounding of reason to keep a hold on reality.’ But what’s reality? Is it even tangible?”
“You know, I see the value of reason. Being logical lets us talk to one another and argue and come to conclusions. We are rational animals but I’m not sure we’re essentially rational animals.”
“So reason is just a part of who we are?”
“Yeah, like its one fourth of our brain. There’s actually a series of ‘tests’ called the Hermann Brain Diagnostic Tests that gives you insight into which parts of the brain you tend to work in. The logical, rational, analytical part is only one fourth of the equation.”
“This sounds like a very rational science experiment but I’m digging it.”
“Anyways, there’s also the artistic, the time-managed organized part, and the emotional part. And these all work together in a great organic whole and some people use one part more than others but you can’t really place value on any of them. They just are. What I think binds it all together and makes it work is imagination.”
I was quite intrigued. “Kant originally held that the power to unify the activity of the mind rested in the imagination but then he changed that and made it rest in the understanding because he didn’t want to imply that all personal realities are equally close to the truth.”
“But how can they not be?” Lindy asked. “This Buddhism you’re digging is great. But I’m not sure even the Buddha would say it’s the only way.”
“Well, he might. The Buddha Dharma is the way things really are. But then again he said each little Bikkhu’s got to travel their own path. Like Robert Frost coming to a fork in the road and taking the road less traveled. I bet he shouted out a triumphant roar, ‘And it’s made all the difference’, when his legs got tired and he sat down on a rock and melted into this sweet earth. Nothing like road weary legs to make you see the truth.”
“I dig your imagination,” Lindy smiled. “I think you, me, and Paige all have it but it’s easy to lose in this busy world.”
And just like that our little boy outside the window fell on his knees and cried for mommy. Gravity reminding him that he was not superman. We both smiled because we knew he’d be flying again in no time.
“And now it’s your turn,” said Lindy. “What’s your life all about?”
“Well, I guess I’m just seeking experience.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m trying to experience a wide variety of things in my lifetime in hopes that through these experiences I can have spiritual growth. So, I don’t want to get trapped into some ‘career’ that soon defines who I am. I want to experience variety. I want to try this out now and then try something else out later.”
“And what for? When all is said and done, what for?”
“I used to be depressed and I still wanted to experience a wide variety of things. The difference is that at that point it was my goal to die and have a fascinating eulogy. My experiences were like a collection, a bundle of things. They had no significance in the moment but just made up a good resume. Now it’s different. I want to have many experiences so I can actually experience them. I think spiritual growth depends upon life experience. It doesn’t come out of books or movies. It doesn’t come out of doctrine. It comes out of your own experience that help to develop and shape your wonder of the universe.”
“And how does this Buddha trip you’re on fit in?”
“It fits right in. When big old Buddha was sitting under that famous tree of enlightenment and got his nirvana kick he came right out and taught experience. He didn’t just get all mixed up in theology and doctrine but just taught people how to sit quiet and find their original nature. The quiet hum was what he taught and more and more people are catching on every day. Even Christians and Muslims and whoever else are catching on because Buddha doesn’t worry about definitions and there’s nothing contradictory about a Buddhist Catholic any more than there is about a Buddhist atheist. And that’s cause Buddhism, the Dharma, is about this life and it’s rooted in experience.”
“But by changing focus so often aren’t you ever worried about not gaining the valuable experience of longevity?”
“You’re so good Lindy. You see right through people and you know my fear. I try to feel it out and I dedicate myself until it feels right to let go. Now I’m married to philosophy, waiting to get my degree, completely dedicated. But who’s to say when I get through this I wouldn’t benefit greatly from going on to a master’s degree. And I could make a serious run and become a professor, a regular PhD, married to Spinoza and Hegel and spouting off wisdom about the dialectic and infinite substance. I guess I have to trust my gut instinct and say goodbye when it’s time. On the other hand, there is one constant in my life that I do carry through all experience. It’s the Buddha Dharma - the teachings of the Buddha. The four noble truths and the eight fold path. These are transcendent and they follow me into all my varying sentient experience.”
“And as for that sentient experience, you don’t want to enslave yourself to something you’re created like a so-called career or a pay check.”
“Exactly. I’m sure that would alienate my soul and drain my spirituality - if I were to feel enslaved or indebted - particularly to some thing I’ve created. I’m, of course, not ruling out that I might one day want to experience the merchant’s life, like good old Hesse’s Siddhartha, but I never want to enslave myself to it. It all should be treated like a calling to experience. And when it’s exhausted, if all goes as planned, there should be no problem in letting it go. Thus, I try hard to keep my load light. It’s hard in this credit card, interest, interest world.”
Lindy looked real deep into me. “These lives of ours. Crazy, huh?”
“Yeah. Crazy.”
And we were tired out of all this serious talk and we just wanted to sit there and reflect and think real gentle things - like, wow, the sun is high or, man, the grass is dancing in the breeze. These thoughts bring you back down. They ground you. The thought that kept pouncing on me was, “Boy, I’m sure lucky to have these friends of mine. It’s like a whole lot of Buddhas gathered around me helping me see the Truth. That blinding Truth. And I squint my eyes and leave the cave but damn, if I could only open my eyes and see what’s out there. It’s too blinding. I need to get some shades.”
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