Espiritus Homini

A good brother pointed out that books such as the bible can provide structure, moral imperatives and explications. Wonderful, for these structures exist in all religions. They give those who choose them guides to how to respond in crisis situations.

But, are you satisfied with the rules? Do you follow them and still find yourself asleep?

Structure is not awakening, it is not liberation, not mystic realization.

Structure has its place, but a life lived by structure is not a mystic’s life.

If you choose a mystic’s way, and it is not an easy way, you cannot live a life of shall/shall not. Love your rules, if you like; abandon them if you wish to live the mystics way.

You must choose.

Is structure god enough? Is constrained freedom the reason you want to enter the great desert? Did you feel the empty spot in your heart only to fill it with rules? When you meet with the divine, will you recount how virtue filled your life, or will you fall into the beloved’s arms, weeping with joy to be in his arms? Will you quote a scripture to defend yourself, or will you wash his face with your tears?

I am a well trained theologian, it is among my many interests, but I cannot, and do not, turn to theology to assuage the fears by which we are all beset. I draw about me the direct perception of the divine. I follow the way of my dervish bretheren and take up company with the sufi of all time. Measured by structure, measured by rules, measured by a point of view informed by any traditional scripture, I may very well be seen as a lost soul.

Lost though I may be, I dance in the cold sorrow of life. Sinful as I am, I wash my masters feet with my joyful tears. As I bound through the temple with my head bare, giggling with gratitude, I certainly do not have the decorum of a saint. My wildness comes from a soul enslaved to the divine. My freedom comes from the cell the divine assigns me. My liberation comes from the burdens I am blessed with.

This is my water, and it gives life. Squeeze your rules, your scripture, if it gives you water, it gives you life, drink deeply.

When I write these missives, I am seeking to strike a resonant tone. I am trying through anecdote, example, idea to reach into your heart and find our common ground.

Do you know this land? Can you move from rules and ritual to delight and joy? Do you know spontaneous serenity?

Recently I received an email that noted similarities between myself and a fairly prolific metaphysical writer. Indeed, there were some overlaps as well as differences. I might do well to point up commonalities as well as some differences. This is a very dense topic, so, by necessity, this post will be broad rather than well pointed.

Firstly, mysticism is not about UFOs, unicorns, magic, psychic phenomenon or controlling the weather.

Its a way that holds as its only raison d’etre the realization of our direct connection with the divine, by whatever name one chooses to call it.

Moral imperitives in mysticism come directly from the realization of that connection.

To a mystic, the miraculous is no different from the mundane. The mundane is elevated by the mystic realization to the level of the miraculous. All realms of perception and action are encompassed by the Awakening.

By extension, psychic phenomena are within the scope of the mystic experience, and quite common, but not particularly of interest. Where a psychic ability is in accord with one’s path, wonderful. A skill such as healing should be used, but should be no more important than the ability to cook a nice meal. They are equal in value.

The sense that one maybe or is the embodiment of a past historical figure: Jesus, Napolean, Cleopatra, is not at all strange – as I’ve noted in a much earlier post on this site. Nor is the in-dwelling of a divine resonance. I’m honored to know, and have as a friend, a manifestation of a hindu deity. From the mystic view, this is all quite normal. To be fair, there are those who are not experiencing this in-dwelling, but are convinced that they are. Watch the try-outs for American Idol to see what delusional thinking looks like.

The mystic realizes the divine. This realization does not make him special. It brings with it no special authority, but it does bring special responsibilities. The Awakening reveals our inter-connectedness, and it broadens the scope and import of one’s activities. While every action carries with itself seeds that grow, mature and bear fruit, the actions of a mystic effect others in a greater way than one might realize. The expanded self/no-self of Awakening resonates upon the seemingly distinct lives of others. Contrary to the mindset of some spiritualists, there is no seeking of powers, no desire, and in an absolute sense, no ability, to control others. The lives of others are impacted by the real structure of the universe; the mystic acts, in a manner of speaking, as a signal amplifier.

In the Zensufi worldview, we speak of the Origin as the moment when the divine, playfully exploring his Thusness, expressed a momentary forgetfulness. In that moment of forgetfulness, all things that he was, all things that he manifested came to be. The sense of separation, the sense of longing for connectedness the familiarity of the path as we walk it, the moments of dejavu, are all echos of this moment of divine forgetfulness. We are not separate, but part of the playful moment of distraction of the divine. Within the medative state we come to see this.

Zensufism speaks of the Desert of Wandering. All of us are in the Desert of Wandering. It is no more real than this world, but it is no less real. There are places where we meet in the Desert. The Great Temple is one such place.

I want to stress that the Desert of Wandering is actually there. It is not myth, or metaphor. It is, by its own standards, utterly real. I want to stress also that it is not real at all. These are contradictions, and words will lead us astray. It is the place where our souls meet. It is not subject to time, or to space. To say it is a spiritual realm is correct, but misleads us to believe it is not interwoven with our own realm. It completely co-exists with our own realm. You exist there. I exist there.

I go there, or rather, I activate my awareness of it, to sit on the dunes, to watch the light play over the distant mountains, blue purple in the haze. I go there to watch the sparrows dart in and out of the scrubby trees that cling for life in the harsh landscape. I meet those who are distant from me in this world, but who come to me in that world. I go not to escape but to restore, renew, and to do what I have been called to do.

This is where the Great Temple comes in. It is a meeting place where souls gather, where the Net of Indra is manifest. This is where I meet my master, where my students meet me, and where we gather in brotherhood. Here is where healing happens, where empowerment occurs, where all manner of prosperity have their well spring.

In Zen they say "this very body is the body of the buddha, this very land, the Pure Land." Zensufism supports this completely. When I go to the Great Temple and press my head to the feet of My Master, I know that we have transcended time and place, and I see all the bodies of buddha, all the features of the Pure Land.

The work done in the Desert of Wandering has unbelievably positive effect on others. When I first came to awareness of the Desert of Wandering and came to the Temple, under the guidance of a Tibetan Lama, I did not think that this place was anything more than a vivd visualization.

As I continued my practice, and specific work began to be carried out in the Great Temple, lives of people around me began to change. The people I specifically was dealing with in the Desert of Wandering began to have uncharacteristically positive changes in their lives. Only one of them ever knew I was doing anything. Another had been lost to me for over a decade, and then, out of the blue, appeared. This was a person I thought had died. Had it been an up turn for one or two of those I was working with in the Temple, I might have not noticed, but it was an up turn for every one of them.

There is no magic here. It's just an illustration of the Net of Indra — the web of interconnection, the Desert of Wandering.

In vipasana, the main form of meditation for the South-East Asian buddhists, one is taught to notice, label and continue as one moves through the day, and especially in meditation. For example: if one starts thinking whilst meditating, the thoughts are not attended to but the act of thinking is noted, usually with the repetition of a label such as ‘thinking.’

Moving with intent is the active form of this passive behaviour. When one does any thing

that is very common – common enough that it is usually done automatically – like reaching for a glass in the cupboard, shifting gears in your car, riding your motorcycle, you can practice Moving with Intent.

While doing the common act, you actively engage soft awareness.

You do not think it through but actively become aware — more than that, your movements are tangibly preceeded by intent.  You feel the fluid movement before it initiates, as it occurs, as it completes.  You are ahead of it, not through the mechanism of thought but by awareness of the real movement of the mind outward into space.

In Zensufism you must be able to develop this, and thus the reason that a body art is so essential.  You must learn how to be actively involved in the manifestation of movement.  The experience teaches us that movement happens long before there are any muscles involved. The aware experience of the extension that preceeds motion is an experience of a root phenomenon .