[An old post, from my old blog, that I found recently on a recovered hard drive...]
Buddha had a strong feeling for others. This is obvious, just from what we know of the story. He was frozen, sort of, when he wandered outside his royal palace. Having witnessed the sufferings of the poor and sick, what could he do? He couldn't get it out of his mind.
This isn't me rambling. That's the story.
This is me rambling: My guess is that it wasn't so easy for him, with the people he knew -- especially there with his beautiful wife. They probably had a lot of conversations about why things are the way they are in the world. The conversations likely ended with his wife telling him he's suffering needlessly, that he should just consider himself lucky that he's a prince, and that all the famous Hindus of the time explained that people ought to appreciate what they have. Take, for instance, one's beautiful, naked wife. She probably said a lot of things like that.
But he couldn't get it out of his mind -- the injustice of it all-- why some have so much, others so little -- and how arbitrarily come these divisions.
Me rambling again, about his wife: I'd bet their conversation, finally, got a little old. By all accounts, she was a wonderful, caring woman. But women sometimes don't respond so well when the focus of a good man's heart shines out to the world. It tears them in half. They love more and they hurt more. Their notion of stability goes out the window. Really, I'll bet this was difficult for the two of them.
Eventually, Buddha left. He couldn't take it anymore. How could the world be that way? Forget about being a "prince"... And I'm very, very sorry, lover. But what about the other people? What about them?
These thoughts drove him away, and out he went -- away from royalty, family, caste. And not from lack of love -- but from too much of it -- too much to be held in any particular scope. He left -- away from religion and tradition -- he saw the same tired patterns there -- similar hierarchies of power and privilege.
Out he went, around and around, and finally, under a tree.
It's the same story for all of them. It's almost exactly the same.
Mohammad was a businessman -- a trader. He had a reputation for honesty and fair dealings. This much is pretty well documented. He'd be called in, sometimes, to settle local disputes, as each side recognized him as a fair, just man.
But he was troubled by the power of the wealthy -- noticing that they almost always applied said power to stifle the honest efforts of others. He saw how good men are so often held back by the unfair practices of those who lord above them.
This ate at him -- the injustice of it. How can you be an honest man in this world? Are the qualities of honesty and fairness themselves a curse? Will it forever be the position of the good man to toil at the bidding of these selfish, deceptive people? What sort of sense does that make? Why is the world so upside-down?
Must a man sacrifice his true heart to make a decent living?
This was a price Mohammad couldn't pay. So he was frozen, too. Like Buddha was.
Off he went, to the caves.
It's the same story with Jesus, who had plenty to deal with.
He had the Romans there, ruling above the people, and taxing them heavily.
But he also had the religious leaders, who would later become the subjects of Jesus's near-violent attacks.
At the time, these religious leaders -- the temple heads -- weren't just a subsection of the local society. Their wealth was far greater than that of anyone else. They were the upper class, very well removed, in terms of privilege and power, from anyone else in Nazareth, save for the Roman leaders.
Well, we don't know how Jesus felt back then, before he left. There's no records of that time.
We just know some things he said afterward. And in these things, you see the same themes -- the wish for fairness, honesty, and justice among people.
He commends the terrible struggles of the solitary true man, acting alone in a society ruled by the depraved.
So it's likely he went through the same thing, back before he took off. He was frozen too. Why should everyone work so hard so the few, in their fancy silks, can live a life of ease -- sitting on soft cushions though the day? How could these people even live with themselves, taking more money from those who are struggling so hard -- and this -- in the name of "God"?
Why do people accept this? Why do they follow? Is it because they are just innocent and unaware? All of them? All of them not-so-smart? Or is it because (and this is a terrible thought) , in their service to all these different "masters" they want the same thing? That is: they want the same power and privilege over others? Is that what they wish for in their lives? Everyone? Is that what this life is for?
Where is there a true man then? There's nobody. If one, deep in his heart, wishes to live as a true man, how can one just go on, as is "normal"? If you do that, you are contributing to it all.
How can one live as a true man in the service of such falsehood? Even as a part of it?
One cannot.
No doubt Jesus saw these things, back then, while he was working as a carpenter. No doubt he was saddened. He was frozen.
He took off too, for years. Finally, like Buddha, Like Mohammad, he found himself alone. He went out -- to the desert.
I sometimes wonder why people sit. I really do.
If you look at how the traditions market themselves, you see that they appeal to the wishes of their followers. Meditation, they say, has all sorts of benefits. "Insight", say the teachers, is the "ultimate reality".
OK. Fine.
And, so, a lot of people show up. People want "insight". People want "ease" in their lives. People want to "see things as they really are". Etc etc. (Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzz...)
People want all sorts of stuff.
But, most of all, people want an "end to suffering".
But whose suffering? Their suffering.
And that's what the religions and traditions claim to offer -- all of them. And this is why people go. It's why people show up at the monasteries. It's why people become monks. It's why yoga classes are so popular. It's why you see so many people reading spiritual (or self-help) books when you are waiting at the airport. It's why there's such a buzz of chatter around any new writer, or any newly discovered master from the east: "He is so wonderful!" "He changed my life!".
People in these places talk about compassion sometimes, but it's kind of like "Yeah, of course that's nice. Be good to people!" And then they go back to their cushion or prayer mat, hoping for their personal miracle, hoping for their enlightenment.
But this is completely opposite from the heart of the Prophets -- all of whom were capable men -- none of whom sought, for themselves, comfort, or peace, or ease, or grace. This much is all too obvious, from their stories.
It's not the sitting, or the prayers.
It's the heart -- the overwhelming wish for fairness, and justice, and well-being for others.
Somewhat paradoxically, this is why it was they who came to walk as truth.
They had hearts for the world.
If you don't have this, or if you are not in the process of developing it -- if you're not taking the time in your life to stop and look at the world -- as much time as it takes, on your own, just to look -- and if you are not willing to accept the sorrow and solitude that comes with this, then all you're doing is sitting still.
You can do that for 30 years. What good is it? Sitting still so much for 30 years!? Doing what? Gaining "insight"!? Why? You'll end up having to think of ways to convince yourself you haven't wasted your time. Even if you manage a little glimpse, you'll only hold what you know over others. It will just be another way of ranking people, as if there were not enough. Nothing will really change. You'll need the positions and the fancy clothes and the titles. You'll need the bows. You'll need all these things. You'll have to do a lot of talking in front of people -- else, you'll feel bad.
But, you'll have just wasted 30 years.
Buddha had a heart for the world. So did Jesus. So did Mohammad. They had a strong feeling for others. Their practice and their prayers only made this stronger. Compassion for others was a challenging act -- it was something you do, from the heart. In this way, the heart takes over.
This is why, for them, this world became paper-thin, and bright.
Buddha had a strong feeling for others. This is obvious, just from what we know of the story. He was frozen, sort of, when he wandered outside his royal palace. Having witnessed the sufferings of the poor and sick, what could he do? He couldn't get it out of his mind.
This isn't me rambling. That's the story.
This is me rambling: My guess is that it wasn't so easy for him, with the people he knew -- especially there with his beautiful wife. They probably had a lot of conversations about why things are the way they are in the world. The conversations likely ended with his wife telling him he's suffering needlessly, that he should just consider himself lucky that he's a prince, and that all the famous Hindus of the time explained that people ought to appreciate what they have. Take, for instance, one's beautiful, naked wife. She probably said a lot of things like that.
But he couldn't get it out of his mind -- the injustice of it all-- why some have so much, others so little -- and how arbitrarily come these divisions.
Me rambling again, about his wife: I'd bet their conversation, finally, got a little old. By all accounts, she was a wonderful, caring woman. But women sometimes don't respond so well when the focus of a good man's heart shines out to the world. It tears them in half. They love more and they hurt more. Their notion of stability goes out the window. Really, I'll bet this was difficult for the two of them.
Eventually, Buddha left. He couldn't take it anymore. How could the world be that way? Forget about being a "prince"... And I'm very, very sorry, lover. But what about the other people? What about them?
These thoughts drove him away, and out he went -- away from royalty, family, caste. And not from lack of love -- but from too much of it -- too much to be held in any particular scope. He left -- away from religion and tradition -- he saw the same tired patterns there -- similar hierarchies of power and privilege.
Out he went, around and around, and finally, under a tree.
It's the same story for all of them. It's almost exactly the same.
Mohammad was a businessman -- a trader. He had a reputation for honesty and fair dealings. This much is pretty well documented. He'd be called in, sometimes, to settle local disputes, as each side recognized him as a fair, just man.
But he was troubled by the power of the wealthy -- noticing that they almost always applied said power to stifle the honest efforts of others. He saw how good men are so often held back by the unfair practices of those who lord above them.
This ate at him -- the injustice of it. How can you be an honest man in this world? Are the qualities of honesty and fairness themselves a curse? Will it forever be the position of the good man to toil at the bidding of these selfish, deceptive people? What sort of sense does that make? Why is the world so upside-down?
Must a man sacrifice his true heart to make a decent living?
This was a price Mohammad couldn't pay. So he was frozen, too. Like Buddha was.
Off he went, to the caves.
It's the same story with Jesus, who had plenty to deal with.
He had the Romans there, ruling above the people, and taxing them heavily.
But he also had the religious leaders, who would later become the subjects of Jesus's near-violent attacks.
At the time, these religious leaders -- the temple heads -- weren't just a subsection of the local society. Their wealth was far greater than that of anyone else. They were the upper class, very well removed, in terms of privilege and power, from anyone else in Nazareth, save for the Roman leaders.
Well, we don't know how Jesus felt back then, before he left. There's no records of that time.
We just know some things he said afterward. And in these things, you see the same themes -- the wish for fairness, honesty, and justice among people.
He commends the terrible struggles of the solitary true man, acting alone in a society ruled by the depraved.
So it's likely he went through the same thing, back before he took off. He was frozen too. Why should everyone work so hard so the few, in their fancy silks, can live a life of ease -- sitting on soft cushions though the day? How could these people even live with themselves, taking more money from those who are struggling so hard -- and this -- in the name of "God"?
Why do people accept this? Why do they follow? Is it because they are just innocent and unaware? All of them? All of them not-so-smart? Or is it because (and this is a terrible thought) , in their service to all these different "masters" they want the same thing? That is: they want the same power and privilege over others? Is that what they wish for in their lives? Everyone? Is that what this life is for?
Where is there a true man then? There's nobody. If one, deep in his heart, wishes to live as a true man, how can one just go on, as is "normal"? If you do that, you are contributing to it all.
How can one live as a true man in the service of such falsehood? Even as a part of it?
One cannot.
No doubt Jesus saw these things, back then, while he was working as a carpenter. No doubt he was saddened. He was frozen.
He took off too, for years. Finally, like Buddha, Like Mohammad, he found himself alone. He went out -- to the desert.
I sometimes wonder why people sit. I really do.
If you look at how the traditions market themselves, you see that they appeal to the wishes of their followers. Meditation, they say, has all sorts of benefits. "Insight", say the teachers, is the "ultimate reality".
OK. Fine.
And, so, a lot of people show up. People want "insight". People want "ease" in their lives. People want to "see things as they really are". Etc etc. (Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzz...)
People want all sorts of stuff.
But, most of all, people want an "end to suffering".
But whose suffering? Their suffering.
And that's what the religions and traditions claim to offer -- all of them. And this is why people go. It's why people show up at the monasteries. It's why people become monks. It's why yoga classes are so popular. It's why you see so many people reading spiritual (or self-help) books when you are waiting at the airport. It's why there's such a buzz of chatter around any new writer, or any newly discovered master from the east: "He is so wonderful!" "He changed my life!".
People in these places talk about compassion sometimes, but it's kind of like "Yeah, of course that's nice. Be good to people!" And then they go back to their cushion or prayer mat, hoping for their personal miracle, hoping for their enlightenment.
But this is completely opposite from the heart of the Prophets -- all of whom were capable men -- none of whom sought, for themselves, comfort, or peace, or ease, or grace. This much is all too obvious, from their stories.
It's not the sitting, or the prayers.
It's the heart -- the overwhelming wish for fairness, and justice, and well-being for others.
Somewhat paradoxically, this is why it was they who came to walk as truth.
They had hearts for the world.
If you don't have this, or if you are not in the process of developing it -- if you're not taking the time in your life to stop and look at the world -- as much time as it takes, on your own, just to look -- and if you are not willing to accept the sorrow and solitude that comes with this, then all you're doing is sitting still.
You can do that for 30 years. What good is it? Sitting still so much for 30 years!? Doing what? Gaining "insight"!? Why? You'll end up having to think of ways to convince yourself you haven't wasted your time. Even if you manage a little glimpse, you'll only hold what you know over others. It will just be another way of ranking people, as if there were not enough. Nothing will really change. You'll need the positions and the fancy clothes and the titles. You'll need the bows. You'll need all these things. You'll have to do a lot of talking in front of people -- else, you'll feel bad.
But, you'll have just wasted 30 years.
Buddha had a heart for the world. So did Jesus. So did Mohammad. They had a strong feeling for others. Their practice and their prayers only made this stronger. Compassion for others was a challenging act -- it was something you do, from the heart. In this way, the heart takes over.
This is why, for them, this world became paper-thin, and bright.
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