Friday, May 2, 2014

I thought of Einstein's theories, the relationship between gravitational force, mass, time and light, the great relativity of all perspectives, the bending of the fabric of the universe around big objects, the conservational relationship of mass and energy.

I thought of teachings of the Buddha, compassion to alleviate the sufferings of all sentient beings caught in the cycle of illusion, freeing us, showing us the great reality, the true nature of mind, the illusion of self.  Truth comes, in lieu of science's methods, as a great relief, freeing us from the encroachment of materialism into life's meaning.  The path of enlightenment reveals a shape to all things, one that speaks of the great fabric bent by the powers of kindness and compassion.

Therefore what we do in life is bent by the slope, toward our goodness when we are compassionate and selfless and freed from illusion, away from us when it has motivations of self and illusionary gains.  Gravitational force that pulls things our way, accordingly.  We awaken from within, becoming our own source of light and understanding.

Compassion, kindness, reinforces the understanding of the shape of life's planes and realities, the forces that govern life and the consciousness that has no ending, no beginning.  Which in turn speaks of karma, of the realty behind the circumstances of our 'genetic lineage,' the events deep within the world that led to our creation (both as individuals and as a 'species,' as a manifestation of the deeper), to our own individual birth in the particular circumstances (of love) we came to.

And so it is the deeper bodhisattva nature to our own personal realities that came out of our deep lineage, out of our genes, out of the nature of our individual parents and families, but also out of the bodies of the deep wisdom teachers who are the core and sunlight of humanity and the manifest world.

That's the only way it can be, and such are the calculations that we as reasonable and scientific and just people are asked to reach.

I wake sometimes, as a writer, looking for meaning.  "What if it is all about compassion?  What if that isn't the primary reality, as far as what counts…"  I find myself saying to myself one morning, surprised by a mild moment of eureka.  "I never thought of that."  I had viewed life differently, conventionally, as another battle altogether, in which it was almost a failure, a separate factor unrelated to any success, to have compassion and to live your own life in some form of quiet kind peace.  That had sounded to me as something a lot like giving up.  I had even thought perhaps compassion and being kind didn't matter, and that you just had to compete and hope to find a spot in society that offered some protection.  Grab what you can.  But then increasingly I found relief in being free of complicating desire.  I found peace, contentment with the way things are, and that the things I might have thought I wanted pointed to a larger relief not having them as a possession of life, as an attachment, but instead just something to feel compassion over.

I felt a bit like the world had been turned on its head.  I found myself satisfied with the simple life I had, a starting place.  I experienced retrospective self-recognition, an honest sense of non-attachment, something I felt tentatively people might sneer at but to which I found a value and a way out of confusion.  Meditation seems to be working its magic.  I saw the source of my own faults, and grasped better the things I seemed to have been subconsciously doing right.  Sins to atone for, sure, but in the knowledge of an overall peace and compassion.

So I ponder the dream the evening before during a nap of a huge and vivid explosion out the back window, such that I swore I heard a loud bang, looked out and saw the smoke rise, woke up unsure of where to be oriented,  unlike any other dream experience I've had…  a harbinger of change...

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