Saturday, August 29, 2009
Soulful Listening #2
Soulful Listening Exercise
I was having some stressful moments around this activity as I had interpreted the suggestions as themes that must be covered, unfortunately. I now know that there is latitude and openness to form. However, I had already approached my woman-friends about doing an emotional inventory and was asked respectfully to be excused from participating. Still, doing the suggested theme of emotional inventory with my son was useful to me as it allowed me to be more cognizant of my impulse to give parental advice rather than simply listen with trust and respect. He seemed more open to being completely honest and open to me also—knowing the parameters as described. There was respectful listening on both of our parts but some interaction also.
The Set Up: I have decided to interpose my thoughts, comments, and wanderings within the speakers discourse. It will be bolded and in a different font. It seems to add more of a sense of continuity and immediacy.
As Listener:
My son (19) chose to start his inventory out with how he was feeling at the moment. He began describing his emotions as very calm, comfortable, and “not really giving a shit” about much of anything at the moment. (My thought at this point was that he was actually upset and feigning apathy and really wanted to ask if that was the case but did not.) But, he quickly clarified that statement to explain that he had had a rather upsetting night out with friends and had worked through most of the upset. He stated that he had gone out with some friends that he had not connected with for quite a while and was anticipating the evening. He was excited and pleased to have reconnected with them. He began describing the evening and his emotional state changing from pleased anticipation to a spectrum of emotions ranging from initial sadness at realizing that these friends had not changed nor grown as people since he had last hung out with them at fifteen. The sadness quickly evolved into a sense of annoyance at the fact that all they wanted to do was smoke marijuana to disgust when they began talking about girls. (I alternated between feeling proud of him for having grown past these activities and wanting to ask if he was still indulging in those same behaviors at present. However, in order to listen soulfully and respectfully, I refrained from making any comments at all and let him talk. Becoming more mindful of the soul’s needs through the readings and activities has helped me become more respectful of my son as a human being rather than simply my child to direct and protect. I found it easier for my attention to stay focused on the exercise this time also). He said that he had spent much of the remainder of the evening feeling deeply disgusted, angry, and repulsed. One of the young men is twenty and still dates and has sex with very young women; my son expressed his distaste with a great deal of anger and passion. He asked to be taken home and said that his dominant emotion was one of relief to not be in their presence as he was so repelled and disgusted. He came full circle to the present by saying he felt calm and peaceful because separation from those friends felt so good to him. (By this time, I was vacillating between being extremely proud of my son for his ability to respect women and to know when friendships are unhealthy and anger towards his friends for their reprehensible behaviors toward very young, vulnerable women. However, I did not interrupt or add any value judgments to listening or even afterward during the debriefing portion)
As speaker:
I am in a bit of a funk and feel sad and depressed. I also am “beating myself up” because it seems ungrateful given all the good things happening for me at present. I am self-informed enough to intellectually understand the sadness and depressed feelings are arising because of letting go of a friend whose behaviors seem to me to be morally, ethically, and spiritually bankrupt. As soon as I express those sentiments, the feelings of guilt around judging another human being creep in. I began questioning my spiritual evolution because I felt the emotions of disgust, annoyance, and repugnance toward the behavior and choices of a fellow human being. In an attempt to shift my state of being, I had a glass of wine and watched a movie with a couple of friends. In this time frame, I felt better, a little silly, and able to laugh and be light-hearted. I went to bed feeling relieved that I had “let it go” and had accepted that the situation “is what it is.” However, I woke up at five a.m. in a sorry emotional state. I felt anxiety around my new job—what if they don’t keep me on?” Fear that I would never be a success—whatever that means, and feeling rather sorry for myself because I am alone and seeing no prospects for companionship at my age. This train of thought took me straight to, “I’m old and ugly and no one will ever want to be with me.” I thought about all of these emotional whips of flagellation and wondered where in the hell did that come from? Once I began expressing some of this (not all: after all, this is my nineteen-year-old son), I realized that all this was associated with letting this particular friend go from my life. So, I have made a full-circle emotionally.
My Son’s Feedback:
My son was very respectful and quiet during my turn as speaker. He had the cat on his lap and seemed very comfortable yet attendant. He listened until I finished speaking. Because we were debriefing and had agreed that we could ask open-ended questions and make non-judgmental observations (as much as possible, anyhow), he made a very wise (and a little judgmental), I think, observation: he said that when a person has great potential qualities and the possibility to be more but chooses not to act from those potentialities and possibilities and acts badly and unethically; then that person is simply a bad person—by choice. Or more simply put: it is what it is and let it go. Very astute and sadly accurate, I think. Overall, it was an excellent soul experience. I am learning to listen more effectively regardless of who is speaking. I am developing a more trusting and adult relationship with my son, and this is a wonderful result. I think that learning to simply listen with respect to my son recount some, shall we say, less than stellar behaviors and not react with the need to direct and fix will help me in my professional setting. It is possible that I will hear many stories that are painful and uncomfortable and now I can be more discerning about when the soul just needs support and a safe environment to show itself.
Tending the Soul/Soulful Sharing
Exercise 1
I did this exercise with my eighteen-year-old son, Brandon. He and I are so similar in temperament, personality, and physic al makeup that we tend to argue. Mostly, we get on each “other’s nerves!!” This exercise seemed to me a good way of getting past some of the automatic responses we have to each other and also a way to really listen to each other without judgments or the need for immediate rebuttal.
As listener:
As my son began talking, I immediately had the thought, “He is very “Zen.” He was talking about the nature of reality and how we perceive it. I was agreeing with him but also feeling amused by his earnestness. He moved from reality and perception to social institutions and his belief that rules and regulations of society should be done away with entirely. When he was talking about this subject, I agreed with him to a point but had to restrain myself from pointing out some facets that I felt he was missing. I slipped easily into “Mom” mode in my thinking: wanting to correct what I perceived as fallacious thinking, and I also felt a bit annoyed with him. I found myself alternately amused and impressed by the combination of naivety and sophistication in his thinking. When he started to repeat himself, which he has a tendency to do, I noticed how easily I am distracted. I noticed the kitten playing and left the conversation for some minutes. When he started talking about alternative states induced by natural pharmacological means, I re-engaged with the conversation. While I have read much about this subject myself and do not entirely disagree with him on this subject, my first thought was to interrupt him and tell him to either not “do things like that or be very careful.” It was very difficult not to be a “parent” during this part of the discussion. I also started thinking about what a bad parent I must be…and then had a small discussion with myself (and not attending to what my son was saying!) about the nature of what a good parent is or should be. I also had to remind myself of the nature of this exercise. How easily distracted by my own thoughts, ego, and enculturation I am! This was one of my most telling observations during the entire time he was talking. I also caught myself planning a rebuttal on many of his points rather than simply listening. I also noticed how easily distracted I can be by body movements. My son uses his hands a great deal when he is passionate about something he is saying, and I remember thinking how like me that is. I also cannot talk without my hands. I also noticed that when he is thinking he looks off to the left with only his eyes. He also sits in an open posture with his arms uncrossed and relaxed. It was interesting to me how often I noticed the similarities in our body and hand movements and how easily distracted I am by the realization of how much we are the same. I also realized that my son amused me more than irritates me—very good information with which to interact.
As speaker:
I tried my best not to use my speaking time to rebuttal my son’s points of discussion. Before starting to speak, I reminded myself of the purpose of this exercise and also Palmer’s instructions. However, hard as I tried, I still covered much of the same points of discussion that he did. However, I did not make any judgmental statements about his opinions. I just covered them from my own perspective. Still….I must wonder if that was a sneaky way for me to appear “right.” This realization, after the exercise, has given me much to think about—my listening skills and my ability to just allow other’s their own realities and discourse. While I was speaking, my son appeared to be very attentive. He had a very open body posture, and he leaned forward slightly. I remember thinking that he was more attentive and focused than I was. He did not seem as easily distracted as I am. I was noticing all of this while talking and feeling slightly annoyed! I was annoyed that this eighteen-year-old had better listening skills than I! He also made those encouraging noises if I paused. I noticed that, like my son, my hands wave around a lot. However, I found that despite all of my training in classes and lectures I still sit in a closed posture sometimes! I repeatedly found myself sitting with my arms crossed. I started wondering if I felt threatened by my own son’s apparent skill and intelligence. I then indulged in a (and very short) self-castigation party. I found myself becoming bored with my own conversation! My son never gave me any indication that he found me boring or that he wanted to correct anything I was saying. Overall, I tired of hearing my own voice.
Conclusion:
After concluding the exercise, my son and I discussed our points of similarity and our differences, after all; this was the true purpose of a circle of trust for me: to get along better with my child and be a more trustworthy listener. We found that we both like to use our hands when speaking; however, my son says that my hand movements seem very purposeful and illustrative of my points and his are more random. We both like to discuss the deeper social implications of reality and perception and found that we mostly agree. I seem to be more cynical and accepting of social rules and mores. He is still rebelling against many of the rules of culture that he finds ridiculous or meaningless. I found that no matter how much I may try: I am still a parent and want to “protect my children” from thinking or behaviors that might imperil them in this society we live in.
I also discovered that I have work to do in the listening and circle of trust area. I also wonder if I would be more likely to be supportive without judgment if the speaker was not my child. I am wondering if my close emotional connection to my children colors my ability to simply listen supportively without trying to “fix” anything. Some very good things to think on!!
Silence and Listening
Silence and Listening
I have only begun the application of what I am learning to my life and work. I am blessed with a job that offers opportunities to listen soulfully and be more fully present to my listeners. I have much to learn and need more practice in order to “shift” into a state of prepared awareness that allows the soul to appear and stay present. For myself, this work has allowed me to become even more aware of my internal landscape and the strengths and weaknesses in my ability to be a safe container for other’s souls.
There are a number of factors that need be present for me to listen soulfully. These factors can be thought of as internal and external. For me, the physical environment plays a large part in listening not only with my ears but my heart and soul. If there is noise and chaos around my listening partner and myself, I find myself distracted no matter how I may try to attend to what my partner is saying. Parker Palmer makes the point of having a moment of silence to begin a circle of trust; I agree with this idea and believe that the appropriate setting is a must. I find that giving another that moment of silence to gather thoughts or simply be still is so important: and so hard to do in a culture so frightened by silence and driven to do, do, do. Also, there must be the appropriate time and place; the busy office or bar is not a setting that the soul can be present fully. I suspect that this is one of the reasons that relationships that begin in such settings are sometimes failures: it is usually strictly a meeting of ego. However, the physical environment can be changed if a soulful exchange is truly desired.
Changing the environment is the simple part of paving the way for a soulful and meaningful experience. For me, quieting the inner-landscape is the most difficult piece to soulful listening. I find that sometimes my inner-dialogue gets in the way of truly hearing. Too, if I have too many distractions—noise, movement—I will “check out” of the discussion and thus possibly miss something very important. I am finding that I must enter into a soulful discussion with intent. Preparing my mind, body, and soul for an exchange of soulful value must be first a cognitive decision to stay fully present and deliberately put my tendency to want to “fix” others and offer solutions aside. I am discovering that I am someone who must learn to listen soulfully as it is not something I do naturally or well at times. While I do not often make judgments about others, I believe that doing so may be problematic for many (and I do it at times too) and would not create a soulful exchange. One’s questions might be colored by a desire to “set the speaker straight.” It has been my own experience that the soul will indeed sprint back into the woods when it senses such judgments.
During the listening exercises, I did some mini-experiments to check if how I listen varies wildly depending upon who the speaker is. I find that for me, it does make a difference. With my own child in the first exercise, my parental or mother archetype started an inner-dialogue about the behaviors described by my son. I kept losing track of what he was saying because I was so busy formulating a rebuttal and ways to make him see the error of his ways. What that really meant was that I was not listening soulfully but being a parent and wanting him to conform to my way….not conducive to coaxing the soul out to play. To validate that soulful listening is something I must learn, I did another exercise with my son after doing one with a friend and found that I was able to listen to some rather disturbing revelations without “checking out” or any rebuttals at all. This is encouraging to me because I now know that I can cultivate this skill and use it with whomever I may be listening to.
Learning this skill at this particular time has been extremely valuable in my new work. I am able to more easily focus my attention and be silent with clients at the recover y center where I work. Having begun this learning process of coaxing the soul out into the open, I can give more soulful attention more quickly.
While there are some professional environments that welcome soulful exchange, and I am fortunate enough to work in one, there are some surprising settings where the soul is not welcome. Oddly enough, it has been my experience that religious gatherings, in my area and experience at least, do not welcome our individual presence or soul. In such didactic religious settings, the soul is assumed to be present but is spoken at rather than to. It has been my past experience that my soul cringes and beats a hasty retreat from such, “my way or the highway,” talking at or down to. In such environments, I find that discussions of soul and spirituality are not readily received; again that has been MY experience. Of course, there are also places of business that the soulful presence is not only not welcome but does not even come into consciousness; many corporate structures are not typically places the soul will feel safe enough to show itself and with good reason: such places can and sometimes do reduce humans from beings with presence to tools or numbers. I have difficulty conceiving of soulful listening or circles of trust being made welcome in many corporate environments. I am sure that there are exceptions and a good thing too!
Despite the soul’s lack of welcome in some settings, it is vitally important to listen to others as fully and respectfully as possible. First, I believe that all beings are valuable and deserving of our attention—at least a fully as possible. Second, to listen in “circle of trust” mode, even in environments that are not conducive to the soul’s emergence from the woods of ego, is to be one’s own most authentic self. It becomes a matter of “walking your talk” wherever one happens to be. Perhaps it cannot manifest outwardly in exactly the same manner as a “circle of trust” or a soulful one-on-one; however, if we stay aware of our own tendencies to lose focus, be distracted, and indulge in inner-dialogue, then we can bring our own soul to the conversation. Our own soul becomes the yardstick for appropriate, respectful listening. By listening with full attention, not attempting to fix the other, and giving the speaker time to say what is needed, we can indeed bring ethical and soulful listening to most structures and environments albeit subtly.
Surprisingly, sometimes our inner-landscape can be less-than-welcoming to our own soul, I am finding. For me, self-criticism and self-judgment keep my soul at bay—from myself! I discovered just how easy it is to ignore myself and my own soul by indulging in old mental “tapes” that discourage true awareness of what my body, heart, and soul are saying to me. Practicing a “circle of trust” with myself during this module has made me much more aware of the need to connect to myself and also self-correct when my inner-environment becomes hostile to my own soul. It is rather disheartening to discover that one can separate from one’s most essential soulful self by self-flagellating. I feel that learning to listen to others in a “circle of trust” mode has helped my practice by first calling attention to the lack of respect I pay myself and second allowing some gentleness toward me and my practice.
Overall, the application of “circle of trust” mode of listening has increased my awareness of the need to mindfully and deliberately prepare for listening to others—if even only for a few seconds prior to the experience, which is another practical usage of a moment of silence. Also, I am learning that simply being silent while others are expressing is so much more respect and conducive to an exchange in which the speaker feels safe. Only in an atmosphere of respect, and quiet, open listening can the soul come out to play and speak its truth.
Quote
Developing a Supportive Lifestyle
I found the audio tape and the book, Gifts of the Spirit, so very helpful because even prior to listening and reading I was attempting to articulate to myself what was nudging at my spirit. I simply did not have the information to begin to do so until the material came into my presence. I was struck by how much work the speakers on the audio tape had to do to balance their spirituality, work, and family life, the ordinariness of the daily struggle despite the amazing backgrounds they came from. I guess I naively assumed that they had it “all figured out” whereas I am still floundering around in the dark of finding my way. The journey is work for everyone; I am discovering.
One of the main issues I have been confronting is how to incorporate my spiritual life into all that I do. I am feeling a need to integrate my inner and outer life more cohesively. I feel split oftentimes. While I know that I bring my spirituality into decisions that I make at work and at home sometimes, I also often forget to do so. I want to work on consistency. Consistency was a tip one of the speakers on the audio tape suggested. Perhaps what I really am trying to articulate is that I would like to get to the point where I simply operate from my spiritual center most of the time—it becomes almost automatic, although that word does not truly convey the sense of completeness I wish to feel. I know that if I take time to savor simple pleasures as the text suggests I do feel a connection to the divine. This is something I can do to bring my inner self out to the world.
Another issue I am beginning to address is finding a right livelihood and deciding what that will look like. My current job is work that does good in the world but simply does not resonate at a deep level. I am seeking work that feels like joyful play. One of the speakers mentioned work as nourishment, I do not know if finding that necessitates a change of job or change of attitude. I am wondering if I am being unreasonable because of wanting more than I have at present. Another of the speakers said that she realized that she required great variety in her work, perhaps that is what is not resonating for me in my current place of work—the sameness of so much of it. I need to address this with my superiors and ask for new ways to be useful at work. I also need to follow through with my plan to find weekend work in a wellness facility to fill the need I feel to help others feel good physically and emotionally.
A third issue I am addressing is with relationships with others and attachments. I do not know if I will ever have a true beloved in my life or not; and while this is bothersome, it is not the deeper issue for me. I want to reach a place of love that stands by itself without the ego attachments to the emotion. I do not know if this is even possible for most humans but would like to find a way to get closer to that ideal than I currently am. I feel that finding that ability or at least the beginning of it would spill out to all those I come into contact with and lessen my tendency to judge others. I am becoming aware that I need to be more open to people coming into my life and taking risks with my heart—not something I am good at yet.
It seems to me that all three of my issues that are occupying my mind/ spirit/body are, or can become, parts of a whole spiritually viable lifestyle. My current lifestyle is for the most part a healthy one. I am mostly careful with my diet; I exercise regularly. I do not put harmful substances in my body. I have good friends and good relationships with my family. I have someone to go out on dates with occasionally and yet something is missing, maybe more than one something.
I believe that a regular practice is one area that I am not consistent in and creates a sense of disconnection. For some reason, I start strong and then just do my practice less and less as time goes on. I need to find a way to stay with it; I crave a community of like-minded people to touch base with regarding this sort of thing. I have not really found one in this area yet. This is something I need to actively seek to incorporate into my lifestyle until I can make significant changes such as moving to an area more congruent with my needs.
Another change I could make is bringing my spirituality into my workday; I have an office and could shut the door and pray or meditate a few minutes during the day….I do not often remember to do it. I will make an effort to include this in my workday. I also have freedom about décor and could bring in objects that please my ascetic sense—I have not done this either. These are small things I can do to bring my spiritual self into my job without being inappropriate.
A third change I could make is to actively seek out a community to support my spirituality. Even in my area there are likely enough people to find a community. I am unsure why this feels so daunting to me, but it does. This change will be the most difficult one to make. I feel intuitively that a move from the area will ultimately be necessary to facilitate the sense of community belongingness I desire.
Truly however, the most important changes are going to have to take place within me—my own inner-work will be the greatest facilitator of change in my lifestyle. And naturally, that is the most difficult work of all in my experience. The smaller things can all be done and will be now that I have brought them into my consciousness with this exercise. I know that the work on my inner landscape will take longer but will be worth working on because it will affect all of the areas of my life on the outside: “being” my spirituality, courage to find my nourishing work, and learning to open my heart and risk it. Big, hard, scary stuff, indeed.
Honoring Our Ancestors
This paper challenged me as I cannot think of any one elder person in my life that thinks or thought transpersonally. Everyone in my immediate and extended family is Mormon except my youngest sister and me. So, the logical thing to do was talk to my sister, Nicole, about what allows us to deviate from our family norms: neither of us could think of a single person who talked to us about anything but Mormonism growing up.
We have come to the conclusion that the very stifling coercion of the Mormon environment is what caused us to escape. However, there had to be something within us that allowed seeing that it needed escaping. We tried to find similarities in our childhoods—we are separated by seventeen years—and could come up with nothing definitive: only that we both read copious fairy tales. We began wondering if some people are born with a “blue print” that allows for the ability to think freely.
Do coercive and guilt-ridden religions typically produce some people who rebel? Of course they do, frequently. However, this begs the question: does rebellion automatically create the thinking or does the thinking create the rebellion? Both my sister and I rebelled and questioned many aspects of our original culture’s teachings, dogma, and beliefs. I do not believe that she and I left the church out of childish rebellion only. No one else has left the Mormon Church. Am I trying to say we are special in some way? I do not believe so; the “why” of it is interesting.
For me only, the rebellion coupled with education in sociology opened my thought process wide open compared to my growing up state. My father says I am “ruined” now because of leaving the church and receiving the education. However, ruined or not, it was a joyful revelation to me that so many thoughts on so many subjects were possible. Now that I am studying transpersonal subjects, I feel freer than ever.
Perhaps need to work on being grateful to the religion of my childhood; had it been different, I would be different. I am learning to like myself and love being open to change and growth. These are hard lessons to learn but worth the time, effort, and even the disapproval of most of my family. I have learned that my differences from my families’ culture are a good thing.
Buhhdism Paper
Buddhism
Buddhism, in my understanding, is more a direction for living an ethical life than a religion. Most religions have, at their heart, a metaphysical (and mostly amber) understanding of the relationship between petitioner and a higher being; Buddhism, in contrast, in its purest essence (or more accurately today this is a Theravadin outlook), does not espouse a belief in an all-powerful being that watches over us and judges our behaviors, thoughts, and deeds. It is a mode of living that at its most essential essence places responsibility squarely upon individuals, or at least before the split between Theravada and Mahayana Buddhism this appeared to be the case.
Before the Buddha’s death, he refused to be deified. The Buddha is thought of as a man who awoke from the unconscious, automatic way of being in the world. Because of his being completely awake and attuned to the energies that inform the world, he became the ultimate teacher of his time. It was only in this capacity that the Buddha functioned, by his own insistence, in his lifetime. It was upon his death and with the later interpretations of his teaching that Buddhism split into different sects with their own way of viewing the Buddha and his intent. I find this very interesting in that the personage known as Jesus has a rather similar history. Later interpretations will always be colored by the stage of development of the practitioners, it seems.
Despite the later divisions of Buddhism: Theravada, and two schools of Mahayana Buddhism, with their individual proscriptions and rules of living, there are six aspects they hold in common, according to Smith and Novak (2003). These are: “(1) They all revere a single founder from whom they claim their teachings derive. (2) They all regard self-centeredness as that which prevents our optimal relating to life. (3) They all regard freedom (from self-centeredness) as a primary theme of the Path. (4) They all emphasize interdependence and our concomitant responsibility to love and care for others […] (5) They all adhere to the Buddha’s emphasis on impermance: ‘People forget that their lives will end soon. For those who remember, quarrels come to an end.’ And (6) The image of the crossing.” (pp. 112-113). While this shortened version does not detail the Four Noble Truths or the Eight-fold Path, it does capture the essence of the Buddha’s intent, I believe. How individual practioners relate to these essential teachers will depend upon which school of thought they adhere to.
If one is a Theravadin Buddhist, following the teachings of the Pali Canon and vipassana meditation are how one understands The Way or The Path. This is a highly individualized, scholarly interpretation of the Buddha’s teachings, and Theravadin Buddhists do not consider the Buddha a supreme being but rather a supreme teacher and inspirer. Wisdom is the main virtue. They believe that it is human effort that emancipates humans and there is no supernatural being helping us. Also, this is hard work best done in a monastic setting. There is not a sense of needing to be part of the larger community or in doing “good works” as the Mahayana schools of Buddhism emphasize. The possible problem around fundamentalism in this school of Buddhist thought is the assumption that one must be monk or nun to properly practice Buddhism; it could be thought of as an exclusive and non-accessible form of Buddhism. Its insistence of rigorous purity could create a sense of superiority in those people operating from a more ethnocentric world view—essentially—those people who misunderstand the underlying intent of the Buddha’s teaching and use it for more self-serving purposes.
For the Mahayana Buddhists, of which there are many smaller divisions, Buddhism is a “religion” of the people. Mahayana Buddhists view the Buddha as a supreme being and savior rather than an enlightened teacher. They also believe that human effort is supported by divine guidance and intercession. Rather than achieving insight through one’s own rigorous efforts and vipassana meditation as espoused by Theravada Buddhism, Mahayana schools of thought believe that divine grace will support insight and enlightenment and that such states are open to all—not only monks and nun in closed communities. The ideas of Grace and compassion are integral to Mahayana Buddhism. The problem of fundamentalism would seem to be less likely in Mahayana Buddhism because of the multi-divisional nature of it. While the various sects have many things in common, there are enough practical differences that it would seem rather difficult to form any kind of fundamentalist dogma at all. There appears to be a sense of divine messiness in Mahayana Buddhism when looked at as an encompassing whole. However, it is certainly possible to make judgments about those who do not appear to have compassion for others nor care to be part of the world. Of course, it would also be easy for the two main divisions to view their own stance as the only correct one; humanity and its need for “rightness” will usually seep into even the most rigorously well-intentioned sects and religions. This human need will ever be with us, I suspect.
I find that I cannot entirely embrace one or the other way of practicing Buddhism. I certainly see the beauty and value of both schools of thought and practice. I am very drawn to the monastic setting and scholarly pursuits; and yet, I am also drawn to helping others achieve cohesion of mind/body/spirit wholeness and well-being. How does one integrate both seems to be the problem for me. Given that the validity of both ways of understanding the Buddha’s intent is so clear to me, I am unsure of how to answer the question of what I would like to learn further from this tradition. I am wondering if studying the earlier tenets of the Buddha and becoming more cognizant of the nuances would be my best course? My thoughts around this are that with increased knowledge I could incorporate both schools in my way of being and manifesting outwardly in the world.
I seem to be a person unable to commit to any particular path at present. Buddhism does appeal greatly because living ethically is important to me and Buddhism espouses this regardless of which school of thought one studies. I do intend to continue my study of Buddhism and also am hopeful that more opportunities to actually interact with people following this path will present themselves.
References
Smith, H. (1991). The world’s religions. SanFrancisco, Ca: HarperCollins.
Smith, H. & Novak, P. (2003). Buddhism: a concise introduction. New York: HarperCollins.
Taosim Paper
Taoism
The way I best understand Taoism is the image of a stream, with the stream being made up of Chi; this living in the Chi might be likened to how a fish swims in water; it simply does it without worrying about it or thinking about it at all. Because naming the Tao, which means the way or path, means that is not really the Tao at all, I feel that once the tenets of Taoism are learned it becomes a matter of embodiment of the Tao—one simply is living within and through the stream of Chi without thinking overmuch about it. Smith (1991) says there are three ways of understanding the Tao: (1) “Tao is the ultimate reality.” (2) “[…] it is the way of the universe. (3)”The way of human life” (Smith, p.198-199). The three understandings of Taoism could easily explain how one could relate to the Tao, the Tao itself the teacher, the Tao acts as guidelines for living a simple, ethical life, and within the Tao one can be a member of a greater community on several levels; the level of managing oneself, the level of which school of thought one adheres to, and the level of being part of “the all” or Chi.
The history of the founder of Taoism is rather murky and there are still debates about whether or not it originated with Lao Tzu, said to be born about 604 B.C. (Smith, p.196). As with many other originators of the world’s religions, there are many fantastical myths surrounding Lao Tzu. However, tales aside, it is also said that, at the urging of a gatekeeper, Lao Tzu wrote the Tao Te Ching before leaving the city to live a life of simplicity and solitude, and the Tao Te Ching has been one of the most widely read books(Smith, p.197).
The Tao Te Ching is the basic text of Taoism and is comprised of eighty-one verses. The widespread appeal of the Tao Te Ching is the availability of deeper meanings within the chapters. I find that the verses are fresh, appealing, and applicable to modern day living. The very versatility may explain the enduring quality of Taoism and the Tao Te Ching. While the Tao Te Ching is the basic tenet of Taoism, there are three approaches to power, or schools of Taoism and each incorporate the Tao Te Ching in a slightly different manner.
I believe that the widely interpretive quality of the Tao Te Ching may be one reason that Taoism (more so the Philosophical and the various “vitality” schools), practiced as an embodiment, escapes some of the amber/mystical fanaticism and fundamentalism that plagues various world religions; this is, of course, a bit of a generalization but seems more or less accurate to my understanding.
According to Smith (1991), there are three schools of Taoism and each has its own approach to power. First, the school of Philosophical Taoism and the other ‘”vitalizing Taoisms”’ (actually considered a third school by Smith) “remain relatively unorganized” (p. 199) and practice the use of efficient power. This school of Taoism is considered an attitude toward life and has been more readily exported and accepted because of the lack of rigid organized rules and practices. This is a school which epitomizes Bacon’s saying, ‘Knowledge is power” (qtd. p. 201).
The second school of Taoism is Religious or Popular Taoism. This version of Taoism is more highly ritualized and would present, to the outside world, as rather firmly entrenched in amber/mysticism and may be more likely to fall prey to fundamentalism. Magic is also an accepted component of Religious Taoism; this is a religion of vicarious power. While I am very much in favor of seeing the magical in nearly everything, if superstition and ignorance are also a part of a school of thought or religion, then the religion itself becomes the “raft” rather than a vehicle to help one evolve. In these types of religions, persons become deified and rules and regulations become dogma (Smith pp.204-207). It seems to me that Religious or Popular Taoism could present as such and perhaps even be such a religion; however, I am aware that I am looking at this type of Taoism from my own Western lens and thus may be missing the nuances.
The third use of power is augmented power. Smiths says this type of Taoism is not clearly defined but has some basic tenets in common (p.199). Smith defines it as “Taoist Hygiene and Yoga” (p.200). Most practitioners of this third type of Taoism are actively involved in some kind of training program, often rigorous. The purpose of the rigorous training and purification of the body is to increase the amounts of Chi available to one. It is also necessary to become selfless, calm, and practice personal cleanliness (Smith, pp200—204). In many respects, this conglomerate of practices seem very similar to Buddhist practices, which may explain how Taoism, Confuciusm, and Buddhism have seemed to merge into one undifferentiated whole to the uninformed Western observer. It is not entirely surprising that these three “religions” are so easily interchangeable in the minds of many: generally speaking, each present as more a manner of living an ethical life than a religion per se, although Religious or Popular Taoism seems more organized and full of dogma and potential fundamentalism than the rest.
For me, Taoism seems easily incorporated into Buddhism, which works well for me because I am attempting to simplify my life and live in an ethical way. Merging the two religions makes sense to me because both offer similar guidelines but each bring something fresh to my perspective and widen the lens through which I view the world. I feel that Taoism loosely tied to Buddhism is a multi-faceted vehicle to move to a higher stage of development. I am not at present actively seeking “altered states” but am attempting to live, embody, and practice being my most authentic, ethical self and feel that these two practices are most appropriate to the moment as I intuitively feel that I am on the cusp of something new ~to me at any rate. I suspect that this is what Wilber meant when he referred to “stations:” our evolution is like taking a train. We get on and off and move closer to our destination all the time. The truly wonderful thing is that we get to choose which station is best for us! Of course, the more “stations” one visits, the better world centric view one acquires….but tolerance for those who choose the, for lack of a better metaphor, lower platforms is also part of riding the train to the top of the mountain, which is where the stream originates.