Koans
Gandhi has not written very extensively about koans. Maybe, because his clear logical mind had figured out the answers to every such riddle subconsciously, as he was involved in a series of non-violent acts to oust the British.
Koans are simply riddles posed by Zen masters to their students. Students meditate on a problem and try and come up with an answer. Then they go and discuss their answer with the master, who if satisfied, will grunt grudgingly and move on to the next koan.
Here is a beautiful koan, that simply proves how…wait and see.
Tokusan was the abbot (teacher) at a temple. Seppo is the temple manager. One day, the noon meal is late. Tokusan walks into the lunchroom with bowl in his hand. Seppo says, “Where are you going with the bowl old man? I didn’t hear the gong announcing lunch ring.”
Tokusan lowers his head. He walks into his room. Seppo tells another person, “Tokusan may be great, but he never understood the final verse.”
This is it.
Do you want to meditate and decipher the meaning? Or do you want to be like me and just read on to find the answer, saying, “after all it is my first koan”.
The solution becomes clear as long as you do not attaching a meaning to Tokusan’s actions. You must think in the realm of “non meaning.” Tokusan was a teacher. He was too enlightened to attach a meaning to Seppos’s actions. He lowered his head, to nod acknowledgement that he understood that lunch will be late and he would much rather go back to his room and have an extended nap.
So many problems in life disappear with this method. Imagine you are a Mafia Don. Your drug consignment is delayed. Do you bump off the supplier? Throw fits. Make your eyes shoot fire. No you just say, “Ah, that fellow. I should have known. He never even tied his shoelaces. Clumsy. Well, back to eating my pasta. The drugs will be here sooner or later.”
Shakespeare had said, “Alls well that ends well.” He could have very well said, “All ends for now”, if not “All ends out ok”. "No point throwing fits. Let me just make up some more confusing words."
(Koan and meaning got from cynical, real, earnest book After Zen by janwilliem van de Wetering)
Gandhi has not written very extensively about koans. Maybe, because his clear logical mind had figured out the answers to every such riddle subconsciously, as he was involved in a series of non-violent acts to oust the British.
Koans are simply riddles posed by Zen masters to their students. Students meditate on a problem and try and come up with an answer. Then they go and discuss their answer with the master, who if satisfied, will grunt grudgingly and move on to the next koan.
Here is a beautiful koan, that simply proves how…wait and see.
Tokusan was the abbot (teacher) at a temple. Seppo is the temple manager. One day, the noon meal is late. Tokusan walks into the lunchroom with bowl in his hand. Seppo says, “Where are you going with the bowl old man? I didn’t hear the gong announcing lunch ring.”
Tokusan lowers his head. He walks into his room. Seppo tells another person, “Tokusan may be great, but he never understood the final verse.”
This is it.
Do you want to meditate and decipher the meaning? Or do you want to be like me and just read on to find the answer, saying, “after all it is my first koan”.
The solution becomes clear as long as you do not attaching a meaning to Tokusan’s actions. You must think in the realm of “non meaning.” Tokusan was a teacher. He was too enlightened to attach a meaning to Seppos’s actions. He lowered his head, to nod acknowledgement that he understood that lunch will be late and he would much rather go back to his room and have an extended nap.
So many problems in life disappear with this method. Imagine you are a Mafia Don. Your drug consignment is delayed. Do you bump off the supplier? Throw fits. Make your eyes shoot fire. No you just say, “Ah, that fellow. I should have known. He never even tied his shoelaces. Clumsy. Well, back to eating my pasta. The drugs will be here sooner or later.”
Shakespeare had said, “Alls well that ends well.” He could have very well said, “All ends for now”, if not “All ends out ok”. "No point throwing fits. Let me just make up some more confusing words."
(Koan and meaning got from cynical, real, earnest book After Zen by janwilliem van de Wetering)
Being here, here and here
There is a spectrum of light that flows through our existence filled lives. This neo-Newtonian prism of ether has a can of coca cola and a BMW car with confusing dashboard buttons at one end. At the other end is a Japanese temple where copper bells ring to announce lunchtime. Where monks meditate for hours at an end, seeking nirvana. The ultimate aim of life for these people is to do nothing, know nothing. A vision of Buddha sitting under a tree, a moment of revelation suddenly flowing through his every vein is what drives them to undergo rigorous penance, minute after minute, year after year.
Which is the non-violent path? It would be easy to say that the latter surely is, considering that the number of monks flying warplanes is very small and there are no recorded incidents of bald men in yellow robes shooting people in The Cincinnati Chronicle.
However, it is surely too easy a life to attain true non-violence by these methods. The quest for nothing, is after all a quest for something, and this paradox betrays a series of actions destined to culminate in frustration. Passive hate. A sense of “me being holier than you.” Who is the most holy? Are my robes for the Spiritual conference carefully ironed? Will they stay that way after the flight? Isn’t sitting in mediation in a cosy temple, living a life of disciplined routine calculated to keep me away from the vagaries of ordinary life? And after such a life long quest, where every action imparts additional weight to the ego, precisely due to repeated words and actions that claim otherwise, is it possible to feel for the entire world? After all, the ultimate aim of Buddhism, Zen or non-violence for the boatman, when he reaches the shore, is to ferry people back.
I am not running down the Buddhist monks. Many of them are no doubt, supremely wise and have attained Nirvana. All that I am saying that to enter into such a path of life purely for the sake of attaining enlightenment is fraught with peril.
A possible way is to go through life of ordinary men, being aware at every instant. Spotting idleness every time you light a cigarette. Observing ego and hate, when your boss bitches and moans incessantly. Be aware of the praise you are looking for. See the fear within yourself at many junctures in life. Sense the feeling when fear arises due to an action seeking to fulfil a desire. Also observe the undeniable necessity for wine, women and sex and mark mentally the feeling of gratification and its longevity.
I would go mad trying to correct myself every time I faltered in some regard. A good start would just be to observe. I would first have to sense something. Then after repeated observations, out of habit if nothing else, I shall be able to sense nothing.
There is a spectrum of light that flows through our existence filled lives. This neo-Newtonian prism of ether has a can of coca cola and a BMW car with confusing dashboard buttons at one end. At the other end is a Japanese temple where copper bells ring to announce lunchtime. Where monks meditate for hours at an end, seeking nirvana. The ultimate aim of life for these people is to do nothing, know nothing. A vision of Buddha sitting under a tree, a moment of revelation suddenly flowing through his every vein is what drives them to undergo rigorous penance, minute after minute, year after year.
Which is the non-violent path? It would be easy to say that the latter surely is, considering that the number of monks flying warplanes is very small and there are no recorded incidents of bald men in yellow robes shooting people in The Cincinnati Chronicle.
However, it is surely too easy a life to attain true non-violence by these methods. The quest for nothing, is after all a quest for something, and this paradox betrays a series of actions destined to culminate in frustration. Passive hate. A sense of “me being holier than you.” Who is the most holy? Are my robes for the Spiritual conference carefully ironed? Will they stay that way after the flight? Isn’t sitting in mediation in a cosy temple, living a life of disciplined routine calculated to keep me away from the vagaries of ordinary life? And after such a life long quest, where every action imparts additional weight to the ego, precisely due to repeated words and actions that claim otherwise, is it possible to feel for the entire world? After all, the ultimate aim of Buddhism, Zen or non-violence for the boatman, when he reaches the shore, is to ferry people back.
I am not running down the Buddhist monks. Many of them are no doubt, supremely wise and have attained Nirvana. All that I am saying that to enter into such a path of life purely for the sake of attaining enlightenment is fraught with peril.
A possible way is to go through life of ordinary men, being aware at every instant. Spotting idleness every time you light a cigarette. Observing ego and hate, when your boss bitches and moans incessantly. Be aware of the praise you are looking for. See the fear within yourself at many junctures in life. Sense the feeling when fear arises due to an action seeking to fulfil a desire. Also observe the undeniable necessity for wine, women and sex and mark mentally the feeling of gratification and its longevity.
I would go mad trying to correct myself every time I faltered in some regard. A good start would just be to observe. I would first have to sense something. Then after repeated observations, out of habit if nothing else, I shall be able to sense nothing.
Hate
I saw the movie Igby Goes Down yesterday. It was all very disturbing. The moment one began to think that it was a pale comparison of Catcher in the Rye, stunning shots of New York City brought one right back to the movie.
The moral of the story was that you can have many reasons to hate something, someone or somebody. There can be many reasons that exist to indulge in such an extreme emotion. They might all be perfectly valid. But, at the end of your life, a relationship, a long evening or a day at work made up of many small individual moments felt consciously, the ultimate feeling is one of disillusionment, if they have been spent in the company of people that inspire active or passive hate. More likely than not, one is liable to grope the air, standing alone in a room, trying to make up gestures that best express this feeling.
When, this emotion is aroused within you, it is best to stop interacting with the person.
Move on, make a left turn, cross the road, climb the stairs. This is the way of the Buddha, and I suspect the way of Gandhi.
Elephants don’t like sand, and that is one reason there are so few in the desert.
I saw the movie Igby Goes Down yesterday. It was all very disturbing. The moment one began to think that it was a pale comparison of Catcher in the Rye, stunning shots of New York City brought one right back to the movie.
The moral of the story was that you can have many reasons to hate something, someone or somebody. There can be many reasons that exist to indulge in such an extreme emotion. They might all be perfectly valid. But, at the end of your life, a relationship, a long evening or a day at work made up of many small individual moments felt consciously, the ultimate feeling is one of disillusionment, if they have been spent in the company of people that inspire active or passive hate. More likely than not, one is liable to grope the air, standing alone in a room, trying to make up gestures that best express this feeling.
When, this emotion is aroused within you, it is best to stop interacting with the person.
Move on, make a left turn, cross the road, climb the stairs. This is the way of the Buddha, and I suspect the way of Gandhi.
Elephants don’t like sand, and that is one reason there are so few in the desert.
The Death Valley Fun Run
Philanthropic events hold little allure for me. The wine is predictable and the meat is cold. A feeling of virtuousness gushes madly within the body of the not for profit employee, despite of his or her best efforts. We smile at every word of a high donor, ever ready to break into laughter. The agenda is inevitably to show how your organization is the best and “competitors” are useless to put it mildly (after all, they too are saving lives and educating children, but somehow its just not the same). The coffee only adds to the bitter aftertaste, as disillusioned waiters, too lazy to powder the beans maybe choose to deep -fry them.
I attended a philanthropic event yesterday. It was an event with a difference. There was no room for disillusionment. And if any person could take credit for people feeling motivated, the kind that springs not from hidden agendas, but from primal human emotions, it has to be the guest of honor, Chris Moon.
Chris Moon lost his right arm and leg in a landmine explosion in Mozambique. He has survived a kidnapping of the Khmer Rouge in Cambodia. In place of his right hand, he has a hook like contraption that subconsciously evokes memories of an old bottle of rum. Chris could have spent the rest of his life bemoaning the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune. Chris was in Mozambique working for a charity that cleared land mines. Within a year of the accident, Chris had run the London Marathon. He has also run across the Australian Outback and the Western Sahara, in temperatures better suited to “slow cooking chicken.”
He has a terrific sense of humor and even if one did not know of his past achievements, a very strong willed person. He said that in the course of London marathon, he thought he was doing fine, till the fattest man in the world dressed as a chicken passed him. He plans to run the New York City Marathon in a little over four hours, which will ensure that even the fittest snake will not slither past him.
Giving advice for running the marathon Chris said that one must drink plenty of water. He also said that one must never stop and continue “just a little bit forward in the correct direction.”
This is excellent advice for the satyagrahi. No room for idleness. Move one step ahead at a time with immense determination. Stand alone, if you have to. Make light of difficulties that come in your way.
And drinking water does no harm either.
More about Chris Moon can be found at http://www.chrismoon.co.uk
Philanthropic events hold little allure for me. The wine is predictable and the meat is cold. A feeling of virtuousness gushes madly within the body of the not for profit employee, despite of his or her best efforts. We smile at every word of a high donor, ever ready to break into laughter. The agenda is inevitably to show how your organization is the best and “competitors” are useless to put it mildly (after all, they too are saving lives and educating children, but somehow its just not the same). The coffee only adds to the bitter aftertaste, as disillusioned waiters, too lazy to powder the beans maybe choose to deep -fry them.
I attended a philanthropic event yesterday. It was an event with a difference. There was no room for disillusionment. And if any person could take credit for people feeling motivated, the kind that springs not from hidden agendas, but from primal human emotions, it has to be the guest of honor, Chris Moon.
Chris Moon lost his right arm and leg in a landmine explosion in Mozambique. He has survived a kidnapping of the Khmer Rouge in Cambodia. In place of his right hand, he has a hook like contraption that subconsciously evokes memories of an old bottle of rum. Chris could have spent the rest of his life bemoaning the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune. Chris was in Mozambique working for a charity that cleared land mines. Within a year of the accident, Chris had run the London Marathon. He has also run across the Australian Outback and the Western Sahara, in temperatures better suited to “slow cooking chicken.”
He has a terrific sense of humor and even if one did not know of his past achievements, a very strong willed person. He said that in the course of London marathon, he thought he was doing fine, till the fattest man in the world dressed as a chicken passed him. He plans to run the New York City Marathon in a little over four hours, which will ensure that even the fittest snake will not slither past him.
Giving advice for running the marathon Chris said that one must drink plenty of water. He also said that one must never stop and continue “just a little bit forward in the correct direction.”
This is excellent advice for the satyagrahi. No room for idleness. Move one step ahead at a time with immense determination. Stand alone, if you have to. Make light of difficulties that come in your way.
And drinking water does no harm either.
More about Chris Moon can be found at http://www.chrismoon.co.uk
History
There is only thing that can be truthfully said about history: it happened.
There are three ways you can go about tackling this irrevocable truth. You can ignore it. America’s biggest strength is the lack of importance its citizens attach to it. People sip beers and scratch their arse during the national anthem. Everybody knows about the Gettysburg address, but not many people know the Gettysburg address. If Americans are historically conscious, it is at a level where they know that their basic needs have always been met, and will be continued to be satisfied in the future. Intangibles cannot be seen and seeing is believing sensibly seems to be the motto of this country. Americans import talent and attach great value to it. It is not without surprise that they are among the most tolerant people on this earth.
The second approach to dealing with history is one that is practiced by lets say, England.
India, Pakistan, Israel, Palestine, Iraq and Ireland to name a few are still dealing with conflicts that are a direct legacy of British rule. Sir V.S. Naipaul might walk off seminars in a huff protesting that it is about time that we forget colonialism and move on with our lives. Kashmir and Palestine are too real and too present to take such a dismissive attitude. The British have a convenient methodology: they bemoan the condition of the poorest of the poor, call Africa a “blight on the world’s conscience” and raise a hue and cry when corrupt Mugabe throws tantrums. These are very noble sentiments, and the truth of the matter is that they represent only half the story. If the East India Company is not listed on the Bombay stock exchange there is a reason. Winston Churchill was voted as the most popular Briton ever. This was a man who was a great leader. Equally true is the fact that he called Gandhi a half naked fakir and wished for an elephant to do unmentionable things to his body. He is also the same man who said that there was no harm in using poison gas on a bunch of uncivilized savages. If he was voted the greatest, it is not because the British are callous (a land that gave birth to the Beatles, P.G. Wodehouse and Monty Python can be anything but), but because the general population has been kept ignorant of Her Majesty’s past misdemeanors.
Downing street raised a big hue and cry about the condition of women under the Taliban regime. But they were the first to deport a helpless woman and her children (not to Euro Disney but back to Afghanistan). Today a young boy, who lost his parents in Mazar E Sharif was deported from Australia.
If there is a time for honest introspection, it is now. It is the duty of the world’s rich to welcome the world’s poor into their borders. Not because they are impoverished (I too know of Snowball and Napoleon and fear them more than Dracula). Only due to the fact that the poor deserve the same opportunities that once existed in their lands, which were systematically destroyed by their settlers.
The rich nations can develop a policy of even limited immigration based on need. At the very least, their societies will become more culturally enriched. It is all very well for the British minister to ask Asians to speak English in Britain. He can remember that Indians used to tell his people, “Good morning Sir, Thank You madam” not very long ago. He can surely swallow a “Namaste” along with his chicken tikka masala.
The third way to deal with history is the non-violent way. The world’s rich help the world’s poor, if only to satisfy their own needs. Instead of sealing borders, it is time for opening boundaries between ooprtunities and lack of the same. Then many English might not have to contend with half naked fakirs on their television sets.
There is only thing that can be truthfully said about history: it happened.
There are three ways you can go about tackling this irrevocable truth. You can ignore it. America’s biggest strength is the lack of importance its citizens attach to it. People sip beers and scratch their arse during the national anthem. Everybody knows about the Gettysburg address, but not many people know the Gettysburg address. If Americans are historically conscious, it is at a level where they know that their basic needs have always been met, and will be continued to be satisfied in the future. Intangibles cannot be seen and seeing is believing sensibly seems to be the motto of this country. Americans import talent and attach great value to it. It is not without surprise that they are among the most tolerant people on this earth.
The second approach to dealing with history is one that is practiced by lets say, England.
India, Pakistan, Israel, Palestine, Iraq and Ireland to name a few are still dealing with conflicts that are a direct legacy of British rule. Sir V.S. Naipaul might walk off seminars in a huff protesting that it is about time that we forget colonialism and move on with our lives. Kashmir and Palestine are too real and too present to take such a dismissive attitude. The British have a convenient methodology: they bemoan the condition of the poorest of the poor, call Africa a “blight on the world’s conscience” and raise a hue and cry when corrupt Mugabe throws tantrums. These are very noble sentiments, and the truth of the matter is that they represent only half the story. If the East India Company is not listed on the Bombay stock exchange there is a reason. Winston Churchill was voted as the most popular Briton ever. This was a man who was a great leader. Equally true is the fact that he called Gandhi a half naked fakir and wished for an elephant to do unmentionable things to his body. He is also the same man who said that there was no harm in using poison gas on a bunch of uncivilized savages. If he was voted the greatest, it is not because the British are callous (a land that gave birth to the Beatles, P.G. Wodehouse and Monty Python can be anything but), but because the general population has been kept ignorant of Her Majesty’s past misdemeanors.
Downing street raised a big hue and cry about the condition of women under the Taliban regime. But they were the first to deport a helpless woman and her children (not to Euro Disney but back to Afghanistan). Today a young boy, who lost his parents in Mazar E Sharif was deported from Australia.
If there is a time for honest introspection, it is now. It is the duty of the world’s rich to welcome the world’s poor into their borders. Not because they are impoverished (I too know of Snowball and Napoleon and fear them more than Dracula). Only due to the fact that the poor deserve the same opportunities that once existed in their lands, which were systematically destroyed by their settlers.
The rich nations can develop a policy of even limited immigration based on need. At the very least, their societies will become more culturally enriched. It is all very well for the British minister to ask Asians to speak English in Britain. He can remember that Indians used to tell his people, “Good morning Sir, Thank You madam” not very long ago. He can surely swallow a “Namaste” along with his chicken tikka masala.
The third way to deal with history is the non-violent way. The world’s rich help the world’s poor, if only to satisfy their own needs. Instead of sealing borders, it is time for opening boundaries between ooprtunities and lack of the same. Then many English might not have to contend with half naked fakirs on their television sets.
<$BlogDateHeaderDate$>
