thinking, knowing, and the Way

A good work acquaintance shared a Tao passage he recalls. “When you think you know, strange things happen.” I don’t think this is an accurate quotation, but it seems true. When I think I know, I typically act (or refrain from action) in reference to my knowledge that I am identified with knowing. When I think I know, if situations don’t conform to my knowledge, I think they are strange occurrences. Thinking I know is essentially limited thinking. When I act from what I know, it is limited action. Strange things that happen due to knowingly acting is not a bad thing, nor so much a good thing; it’s the changing temporal nature of the Way. The Way is simply, vastly such and this is how we learn, grow, and become wise, through a myriad of experiences, thought, and activity that opens us beyond thinking.

Spontaneity, letting go, relaxing, opening, playing, and moving with the flow of things are ways in which to embrace non-thinking practice. I’ve called this “vacation mind” in my journal writings. When I relax and expect nothing much, I become enjoyably aware of my surroundings in the present. “Vacation mind” is accepting and enjoying the present thusness of the Way things are. It’s slowing down and opening up. It’s letting go and taking it in. It’s beyond the normal thinking and knowing into enjoyable spontaneous living.

He also mentioned, with a little reluctance, that he meditates everyday in some form or another. I didn’t make any big deal of it, though I expressed my genuine understanding and affirmation of his offerings. It is also a comforting thing to hear that others are “seriously committed” to practicing meditation for their own wellbeing, whether privately or within community.

not no, arriving at yes

I have to write in order to get my mind into this moment. This is a practice of mine, one that has grown into a dependence, and writing is dependable at this moment. Maybe not in the future, but right now writing is my practice. I am dependent on my choice to act, to practice what I do as well as how I do.

I cannot think in terms of “no.” Of course, I can. But what I mean is that even when I think in terms of “no” I am not actually thinking “no.” How can this be?

Wrong is always conditional, and always temporal. I, you, us, we, them, it is never wrong. Within a conditionally conceived and constructed situation, stuff appears wrong or right and our body/mind/energy follows along with the thought-perceptions.

If there is no “no,” and no means no only conditionally and temporally, then yes, respect must still be given to our relative-bound existence. Transcendence of the karmically conditioned mind-body is not a possibility, because there simply is no separation (a yes to oneness) as all things change in the now.

How am I so habitually stuck in negatively attached thinking streams? It’s been a survivalistic strategy to bear the karmic conditioning that has naturally taken place. As complex-minded humans, we all experience this with varying degrees of attachment/avoidance, whether we realize it or not.

How can this be true? How does this observation help me heal from my tendency toward depression? What do I do with this understanding?

integrity

The beginning of the Dhammapada goes like this…

We are what we think.
All that we are arises with our thoughts.
With our thoughts we make the world.

Threading my life back together in healing recovery from depression, these words resonate for me strongly because they are the creative and sustaining way of nurturing life within and without. “Goodness” is the thought-stream I am currently consciously connecting with that seems to pour through my whole body/mind with the grace of spiritual energy. “Goodness” is the thoughtfulness that can resonate throughout my life and into the world. Focusing my attention on “goodness” within myself, others, and the world can purify my life and bring into existence the always possible life of integrity.

Someone I met breifly about a month and a half ago talked about integrity as one of the most important qualities. At the time, I only slightly understood what he may have been meaning. But as my recovery process continues, I am beginning to recognize the truthful strength of his highly prized value. When life crumbles apart and loved ones are no longer present, personal integrity—our true humble authentic Self—is the remaining element we have to trust. This is a direct connection with our spirt, with God.

Impermance and change are highly visible to us in these moments of revelation. When I focus on “goodness,” my integrity is strengthening and re-aligning with my true nature. This is a remarkably easy process, and yet takes great effort for the first steps of living goodness within (then without) after the insidious patterns of depression. But don’t forget, there is some integrity in all aspects of our lives when we make this effort in the midst of any our troubles, situations, and issues.

That’s all I have time for right now. I needed to share this inside and out. Grace.