Recently discovering Kate Tempest has re-inspired my love of words. I'm a lazy reader and a lazy writer but hearing the flow and seeing the show of spoken word ignites my mind and my heart creating a fire inside. My imagination runs wild and the words can't keep up the phrases loop and turn and make connections my stomach churns but maybe that's just the milk I drank or dinner digesting.
As we grow older surely time really does go by quicker! Over a season has passed since I have both had anything worth writing and the time to write it.
Lots of thoughts flitter through my head but none have matured yet enough to make it on the web site.
I haven't officially abandoned this site (yet) though. I'm just still thinking of its purpose, definition, and asking myself 'what is really worth sharing with the world?'
Lately I've been tripping over, dripping with, and sipping on the the five skandhas (commonly interpreted as "aggregates"). This is the way Buddha described both how we come to define our existence as an individual, despite lack concrete evidence, and how we perpetuate this fallacy. After some contemplation and reading I feel I understand the first three somewhat.
Number one is form - just what is, whether smells, sounds, sights, or other types of forms. What trips me up about this is that although forms are there, number one isn't our interaction with them, our interpretation, perception, reaction, or anything - that all comes later. It really begs the questions of a tree falling in the forest with no one around. However, instead of grappling with the question any longer, I'd rather move on to number two: Sensation
Sensation is so easily paired with number one that I really wonder why they are separate - but perhaps that is the narcissist in me. I have a hard time believing anything exists that I don't know about. What I love about this aggregate is its simplicity. It is simply the fact of sensing the form. So you have the form, whether it is sound, sight, solid, or all three and then you have the hearing, touching, seeing - and that is all. This one doesn't include how we feel about it - that comes later with "perception".
Number three - perception is also fairly straight forward. This is not the thought but the gut reaction of towards, away, or neutral. After all, with every sensation we respond in one of those three ways - whether or not we are conscious of it (consciousness comes later). What I love about these first three is how well they are connected and how easy it is to imagine one leading to the next. I imagine a baby, first just being, then noticing sensations, and almost immediately going towards some (like warmth), away from others (such as hunger), and leaving quite a few neutral (maybe the sight of auntie's face).
It is numbers four and five that have me stumbling, not comprehending - commonly called "mental concepts/volition" and "consciousness". These have to do with pure awareness and a type of action that is more complicated than perception but not necessarily conscious. It is with mental volition that we create karma but I still don't understand how and the subtleties of this aggregate. Nor do I understand how consciousness fits into the whole puzzle - and how exactly do they fit together? Do they move on a timeline, one after the others in the way they are listed or can they flip and skip? Can we have consciousness without sensation or form without perception? If so, how? If not, why separate them in this way?
I've heard that understanding the skandhas is key to understanding impermanence, interdependent existence, and dukkha. I grew up aware of the aggregates yet with no intimate knowledge of them. Somehow, I felt I understood interdependence and impermanence - yet can I really understand these two concepts without understanding the basis of how Buddha described the arising of our sense of self?
I stopped consuming chocolate and caffeine for two months. Originally this was an experiment to see how abstaining from these drugs affected my health. Six weeks in I didn't notice any affect on physical well being but realized how much more intimate I had become with desire. Cravings for this substance arose. I had three choices at this point: 1. To give in to my cravings, 2. To become frustrated because I wasn't giving in to my cravings, or 3. Just to be aware of this craving and sit with it. I repeatedly chose number three and became much more comfortable with this choice the more I exercised it. While I still did become frustrated too at times, I tried to just be aware of that as well.
It is disconcerting to see how spoiled I am in wanting what I want when I want it. This probably also explains the 10 pounds I've packed on in the past year.
I've been blessed lately and too busy or too distracted to savor it. The Japan earthquake and Tsunami are yet another reminder of how fortunate I am to have a roof over my head, a good job, transportation to and from work, and the infrastructure that civilization and the city provide.
But lately I've gotten even more wealth in the form of art. One week apart I was able to see two performances on stage. The first, "Ma Rainey's Black Bottom" was a sometimes humorous and sometimes painful look at music and prejudice in the 1920's. The second was experiencing my first Opera, Verdi's "La Traviata", a heartrending story of a cortesan who experiences love and tries to give it up for the sake of her loved one's family.
Both of these performances were beyond words. But what I can say is that they were beautiful musically (in very different ways) and both were delightfully haunting. It's been so long since I've seen live performances I am still surprised at how it continues to sit with me long after the show is over.
As the winter moves forward and the weather gets worse, I take the bus more often. While I love bicycling in the cold - the ice on the road, especially when it is covered with snow, scares the bejeezus out of me.
I love taking the bus for many reasons - the sense of community, the delicious exercise of walking to and from bus stops, it increases my punctuality and encourages patience when the bus isn't punctual. However, I do believe it makes me a worse automobile driver.
Bicycling on the other hand, makes me a better driver - though some call it "granny style" driving. I tend to go slower, I realize how blind I am in a car (as compared to on a bicycle), it makes me more patient and alert to my surroundings. However, after riding on a bus, I tend to drive like a bus driver - who totally rule the road. I've seen them tailgate, jump into traffic in front of cars, honk impatiently at cars ahead of them, only come to rolling stops at stop signs, and they run yellow and (just barely) red lights like mad - all in the hurried mad dash to get to the next stop. A bus driver, who is serving hundreds if not thousands of people every day and drives hours and hours so knows the capabilities of his vehicle, may be able to justify this type of behavior. I on the other hand, have no excuse - only inspiration to drive even less.
Today while working an event that brings community together and leans heavily on volunteers and the good will of people, I learned of an extraordinary man. This volunteer is currently in his last months, dying from cancer. Nonetheless, he rallied his friends and family to volunteer with him to help others in need. Since he couldn't do heavy lifting, he drove a vehicle that carried others to do the lifting. I've not met this person, but the storyteller was moved to tears when she spoke of him and how much she'd miss him at the next event, when she believes he'll no longer be alive.
All day as I worked I kept thinking of this guy who in the last weeks and months of his life was giving his time and skills to others and making his community a better place in such a tangible and felt way. I know tons of people who are working to make the world a better place but still, I wonder, they are working towards whom's opinion of a better place? I love it when I hear of people who ask, "what needs to be done" and then with a smile on their face they get to work. And that's what they do till the end of their days.
