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Published: July 31st 2011
Taroko Gorge---Taiwan
Enter the River ValleyThese eyes of the storm, the storm of the earth, are so precious. The storm keeps us swirling within its borders, but the eye, like the eye within ourselves, beckons us to its calm. To be still in the presence of life. To observe its grand beauty, and to be content as a part of its being.
I am in societies storm right now, and the associated storm of mind. Can we truly separate our stormy minds from the tempestuous collectives in which we dwell? Surely we can rise above the influences, as a great boat is less moved by high waves. But even if that boat lives long at sea, it begins to wear away. So I need to return to dock, away from storms. This little blog is a chance for me to bask again in the last deep, long calm of my life, that month in Taiwan back in November.
I was so intent upon arriving in Taiwan to do an all time (for myself) excursion. My most daring adventure had been a 7 day hike in India that is recorded on another blog, and only those who have either asked (and been willing to hear
a long winded answer) or who are quite close to me know of it. I wanted to top it. I thought a ten day hike across the largest and most wondrous of Taiwan's mountainous national parks would do it.
Taiwan is an island paradise. In a sub-tropical latitude, it is surrounded by water all around, complete with gorgeous beaches in the south. I never saw these beaches while there. I was drawn to the mountains. For amidst the island is an island-long range of mountains that soar to over 12,000 feet. These are the highest mountains in SE Asia. It is truly worthy of its Portuguese title: Formosa.
But I was to be denied. Indeed, continually on this trip my plans and expectations for the future were splattered by the arising of unforeseen circumstances, which, like uplifted blocks of earth not only uprooted my sought path but detoured me to another route. I felt throughout the trip that this was one of the main things that I needed to learn: to let go of the need to do the next thing, to be content with all that is, now. I noticed that I had become so used to
doing things, to looking ahead to the next thing, and ultimately to getting a sense of satisfaction, a sense of self and a sense of value in the fulfillment of these future goals. How tiresome.
This occurred in mind even though I believed the truth, which is that our value, self and true satisfaction is already in place and replete right now. Nothing we can do can add to who we already are. All we can do is to realize it, to experience, feel and be who we are, the value of life. Sometimes, all we have to do is stop doing the things that prevent us from realizing it. But the power of a truth does not come from merely believing it, but from living it. So, I decided, I wasn't going to do anything.
Of course I did things, but I wasn't planning so much, or thinking about what I "needed" to do. I didn't need to do anything, except breathe, feel the connection with others and God, drink water. After recognizing this tendency in myself to derive a sense of self through fulfillment in the future, I let go of this, and let my mind
and heart be content with who I and others and God already are. A return to the adage of my life: Expect Nothing, Embrace Everything.
I was aided by my time in the eyes of the storm.
The first was FoGuangShan, or Buddha Light Mountain, one of the most excellent monasteries in the world. I came here after my earlier plans to hike in the park were crushed by a closed trail and need of permits. So I went to this temple. I was struck at first by the presence of tourists and lay people, or just volunteers who weren't religious at all. It was very different in this regard from the secluded and more strict temple I had blessedly found in Hong Kong. But I learned to appreciate the temple founder's mission, which was but a reminder to me of the true mission of the soul, and the source of its satisfaction: to serve. And in their dedication to service the temple is closer to the people than other temples may be.
I stayed there for 6 days, befriending the Austrian monk who had lived there for over 12 years. Very interesting chap. I also finally
connected more deeply with some Taiwanese people, which I had found more difficult to do in Taipei (over there they are more used to foreigners than in China. They are not rude but, at least outwardly, treat foreigners with more equanimity or indifference). I enjoyed my stay in a magnificent garden, forgot the name. That place was magical. And the meditation sessions in the evening were very helpful and blessed. In that eye, that quiet eye, it was easier to return to the eye within that we all do have. And there to learn what wisdom I had departed from by living so fully in the storms of the world, the storms of unawareness, of habitualism, of conditions.
Things became ever simpler on this trip. I realized that all of our confusion in life seems to stem from one thing: that we are a potentially eternal person living in a temporal world, in the midst of temporary conditions and circumstances. Our confusion stems from confusing things that are temporal as being eternal, and defining our self through these temporal things. I spent time dividing things into these two categories. That which is eternal and permanent vs that which is
temporal. That which arises from no conditions (the unconditioned) and that which arises from conditions. The self that is true and eternal and the sense of self that is mind created and illusory. Who is the true self? Is our true self derived from the conditions of our human existence and the world we live in? From our collective past? Or is our true self something deeper, something that exists inspite of the conditions and circumstances of our lives, something that, like God, is eternal. Isn't our true self more like the eye of a storm, the still and silent constant, present within the swirling and changing life of circumstances? Is that what it means that we are called children of God, that we have the Buddha nature, that we are indwelt by the atman, eternal spirit of the Infinite? That who we are, as we have been created, shares this quality of eternality with God?
If so, then we certainly tend not to live this truth. Being in the world of conditions, of phenomena that result from the past, from perpetual patterns, it is easy to lose sight of the plain fact that all phenomenon are temporal, they
will pass, and thus should be viewed as such. The grand buildings of Chicago will not stand forever...do we recognize this when we look on them? When we forget that everything in this world is temporal, we may begin to subconsciously regard phenomena as lasting, as eternal, permanent. This is the confusion: we look in the wrong place for eternity, by regarding the temporal as eternal. And we long for this feeling of permanence, so if we don't find it within, we will seek to attain it elsewhere, vain substitutes.
Living in this storm, we begin to regard our self and our value as consisting of these temporal conditions of our life: our experiences, our possessions, our job, our money, our body, our mind and beliefs. We may seek a sense of permenancy in that which is inevitably temporal. This leads to all sorts of confusion and delusion, which when living in the storm, I too am subject to.
But that is why I love the time in the eyes of the storm, that is their value. That within their borders I can look within, look within at the one who is looking, as St. Francis
says, and find the true source of our eternity. It is naught but our very self, and the spirit we possess, which we would experience if we but stopped latching on to temporal things in vain for a sense of eternity. That is what an atheist doesn't usually realize. Even the sense of being right, or of knowing the truth that there is no God, is merely an attempt to feel his self, to feel eternal, substantiated by his sense of being right. He is seeking God in spirit by denying God as a concept, using the intellect to get a sense of worth, of eternity. It doesn't work. Christians and all other people, including me, may do the same thing. But what we don't realize is that we are seeking value and eternity, our self and nature, because, we already have it, the innate presence of God within is driving us to find value and self, to realize this inner truth and existence, but we look in all the wrong places. Like what? Like trying to fix up shattered glasses to hold the precious water we wish to drink, but all in vain, for it continually seeps out the
cracks, while we do not realize that we already possess a whole glass. All we have to do is drink. All we have to do is realize, make real, the potentials we already possess, and be not deluded by the impossible suggestions of this world: that a shattered glass will suffice.
I went on from the temple, making my way round Taiwan. I did a loop down the east side, to the southern cities and up north again. Again, I was set on summiting the highest peak of Taiwan, but was dashed to pieces on finding there was no public transport to the mountain. Instead I went to Alishan, a forest park in the mountains, and camped in serene, lush, high altitude forest for 4 days.
Ah. Now, this is the true temple. If we come from any condition, it is the love of God, that thought to create such a beautiful being as you and we each are...and where can we feel this more fully then in nature, itself imbued with the divine? In that temple, I feel closest to the source. Living in the world, we live in a man made world. We are from nature,
Garden in the Buddhist Monastery
Enter the garden. Fo guang Shan Monastery from life, and so it is in nature that we can most easily feel the life that we inherently are. As a work of art reveals the artist, so does nature God.
For four days I was there in quiet, with only monkeys as my neighbors. I put my tent in their little valley, and they scurried up to my tent the first few mornings and nights while in the day they inspected my grounds as I made the rounds through the woods. I passed by 2000 year old mammoth trees, climbed to a 7000 foot peak to watch the moon dangle over the mountain ridges, laid in my tent in one of the holiest moments of my life, where all light vanquished, there was not a sound in the air, neither light nor sound....total silence, and I felt quite fully the oneness of my being with the divine. So deep and penetrating was that moment.
I awoke in the lush forest full of joy, my most joyous awakenings and wandered about meditating, training my voice, being at peace in the good old eye of nature.
When it was done I returned to Taipei, which is a
great city. I stayed there many days, did a hike with a wonderful Japanese girl named Tomoko, and headed back to China.
As civilized and grounded as Taiwan was, so mad and whirlwindish was China upon my return. Taiwan may be a Chinese paradise, but China is where the energy is. But how it is moving like a storm, winds fanned by human desire and rampant, unnatural growth that so greatly contrasts the stillness from which I'd come. I was back in the storm, I am back in the storm, and I'll return to the eye before long.
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