Compassion and Violence

Where does one begin and the other end? It can be hard to tell.

Great good can come from great evil and great evil can come from great good. We can do the right thing for the wrong reasons and the wrong thing for the right reasons.

With our limited sight, it's nearing impossible to judge good or bad. What is truly compassionate. What is truly violent.

What we can do is hold a space in between, more where the Truth lies.

Courage of Being

We're living in the Groundhog Day movie.

The day never fundamentally changes. Yes, the sun appears to rise and set giving us light and dark and the illusion of days ending and beginning but, in reality, the essence of a day always stays the same. Nothing changes except the scenery.

(The sun doesn't rise and set even, that's also an optical illusion. It's always shining, in its own kind of Groundhog Day.)

Once you start realizing this, the desire to do becomes much less. It's like realizing you've been a gerbil going around on a wheel. Constantly in motion — doing — but absolutely going nowhere.

Why work so hard? Where is there to go? Then you hop off the wheel and relax into the now that you can't (but have been trying) to escape from.

Now you are more in a being place. More merged with reality and the way of things. To our thinking minds, it is a kind of hell, as it means the eventual end of thinking too... at least, the kind of thinking we're used to. Incessant. Controlling. Loud.

If there is nothing really to do, there is no need to think. Being has its own intelligence, the same that makes it rain at exactly the right time in the season without a calendar. All you have "to do" is listen and allow yourself to be moved.

It takes courage to enter into this place. It is like stripping down naked. Removing all the masks, distractions, and diversions you've been using to try and hide and escape from what is right in front of you.

It is recognizing your utter and sheer powerlessness (which is a kind of power).

It is a letting go of the divided life between you and the world and becoming whole.

It is a death. The death of the personal you.

It is the birth of the Real You. The one you've been waiting for.

The doing takes us there because of how exhausting it is, and ultimately frustrating. See? Everything has its rightful place. Which means even more reason not do anything about it.

 

Happy As Is

It is normal and understandable to "look forward" to seemingly special experiences. Exotic travel. Getting married. Various forms of respite. Etc.

At the same time, this looking forward is something to be mindful of. Unchecked, it can lead to over valuing a future experience we believe is going to be cause for happiness.

Then we want things to be perfect. We don't want anything to interfere with this potentially once in a life time experience. Over thinking and analyzing kicks in and before long, we're suffering!

What happens when the future experience arrives in the now? What if it doesn't deliver as expected? What if something unexpected happens? How will you react?

What if, instead, we remain open to what may come? Yes, it's wonderful marriage is on the horizon. A promotion, and the like.

Can we still hold equanimity? Can we walk into these experiences without particularly thinking about the outcomes we think they will bring? Can we treat them as just another experience, without expectation?

If the wedding cake is perfect or under cooked. If the photographer shows or gets stuck in traffic, or if he or she gets cold feet—either way is OK.

We're happy as is, as it is, with the way it is.