Looking at the other side

#Personal #Hapiness #ZenBuddhism

More precisely, some unordered and incomprehensible personal notes somehow glued up rather than a full-fledge theory.

Do not expect succinctness in this post. It is going to expand, wildly, and then, somehow, converge to the initial topic.

Most likely you won't find any life-changing ideas here, so, keep your expectations in check—or simply skip the whole thing.

Introduction

Happiness is overrated.

And, it is a semantically overloaded concept, too.

What is happiness?

Is it a feeling? an attitude? a … lifestyle? Everything blended together? What's the right mix?

Also, How do you know that you got it? Is it possible to make it last?

Open any book containing “happiness” in its title, and you'll see an awful amount of words wasted on the definition—or how it is assumed that no definition is needed, because, we all know what happiness is, right?

No books dealing with happiness in any way, shape or form make it to my bookshelf anymore. I read them all during my teens, and nothing worked for me (but it may work for you, who am I to say the contrary).

So, very early in life, it was clear I won't achieve any happiness by reading books written by happiness experts.

But I kept chasing it.

... And it kept eluding me.

Zen Buddhism

Around the same time I stopped reading cheesy books, a D.T. Suzuki's book found me; sixteen years young I was. Reading it was one of the most profound experiences in my life.

I vividly remember opening that book under the shadow of a big tree in a tiny hidden park in my home town. Strangely, life-changing books always find me in parks, that's why I like quiet walkable parks. Also, most personal insights come to me while walking. Maybe that's why I feel the urge to take random walks out in nature and read new stuff when I'm looking for answers.

It wasn't an easy read, though. I would describe it as a beautiful nonsense. But it was beautiful, that's the key. Whenever I see astounding beauty, my mind-hear opens up, nothing I can do about it.

That book use concepts that were completely foreign to me at the time.

Religion-wise, I think Zen Buddhism can't be any more different to Catholicism (my parent's faith). Buddhism is a non-theistic religion. Many people confuse atheism with non-theism, but those are different things. Folks coming from theistic religions normally won't spend a second trying to understand the difference between apathetic agnosticism and Buddhist non-theism. They would affirm, categorically, that Buddhism is not a religion but a philosophy—simply because “there is no God”. I am okay with all that. I don't waste my time trying to explain things to people who don't want to understand, not anymore.

Culture-wise, there are abysmal differences as well. Concepts in Eastern and Western cultures are not only slightly different, sometimes diametrically opposed.

Take “emptiness”, for instance.

That concept is of paramount importance in Buddhism, and you can find expressions of emptiness everywhere in Eastern culture—not only in religion, but also in art and many aspects of everyday life—even if the concept is not explicitly mentioned. Emptiness, on the other hand, has very negative connotations for the Western mind. Take for instance the expression: “I feel empty”, which conveys sadness and despair. On other side of the world, emptyness is something sublime, transcendent, valuable, even a goal worth pursuing. Admittedly, I have never lived in a Eastern country, so, my understanding of their culture remains quite limited, all I know comes from books and movies.

So, Suzuki's writings found me, and just like that, I became Buddhist—which made my whole family unhappy, my mother in particular. All of a sudden, I was a black sheep of sorts.

Buddhism found me through its philosophy. The first point of contact was the mind, not the body. But it was clear, right from the beginning, that an intellectual understanding of Buddhism won't be remotely enough, that approach won't differ much from all the other books about happiness. I must learn how to sit in silence at some point.

Suzuki's book planted a seed on my mind. It was an illogical nonsense that, somehow, made a lot of sense in a way I could not comprehend at the time nor explain to you now.

As expected, this black sheep looked for places to learn Zen meditation when he moved to Mexico City to attend Engineering school.

A list with four or five meditation centres I intended to visit was made. The plan was to visit them all and then decide which one was the best for me. Plans ... ha! ... I tend to waste a lot of time with those.

I attended the “Introductory meditation course” in the place at the top of the above mentioned list. That course was imparted by someone I now call my meditation teacher, and that place is what I call my temple (or my Sangha).

I never left. Neither went to other places for Zen training—although I visited different temples and know other Sanghas, both in Mexico and abroad.

My life would be different now if had not found that quiet place whilst living in the city that never sleeps. Those years were tough for me at different levels. Maybe I would never have finished engineering school, maybe I would have committed suicide ... I don't know, really.

Perhaps this is a good point to go back to the main topic of this post, happiness.

Everything described thus far was a personal quest towards some sort of happiness, or, an escape from my own suffering—which is pretty much the same.

It definitely provided a temporary psychological relief, some space to breathe. But not the ultimate happiness by any stretch of the imagination.

The same message, over, and over again

Buddhism insists on this point in many ways: “stop chasing happiness”.

Phrases such as “Nirvana is Samsara, Samsara is Nirvana” or from the Hsin Hsin Ming[1]:

Clinging cannot be limited; even to be attached to the idea of enlightenment is to go astray. Just let things be in their own way and there will be neither coming nor going.

If you study Buddhism seriously, you'll find this idea expressed in different ways over and over again, like Buddhist propaganda.

It does not make any sense.

Why am I doing all this if I don't pursue some sort of happiness or accomplishment?

If I don't pursue happiness, what am I going to do instead? Become a wanderer and allow that life just happens to me?

Things change when you start practicing formal Zen meditation. Then, you quickly realize that the harder you try, the poorer the results are. It is very counterintuitive and bewildering.

Meditation relaxes the body-mind, but you'll quickly reach a plateu and start wondering now what?, it starts to feel like a waste of time, dull. And that's when most people leave to try “something else”—most likely they came after trying “something else” too.

I was quite fortunate that I fully trusted my teacher from the very beginning, hence, I took—and still do—his words very seriously. As a consequence, my practice was pretty solid during the first months as I followed his advice the best I could.

After a year or so, I was able to get some initial understanding through meditation. Suzuki's and my teacher's words started to make more sense, to unveil new levels of meaning. Some meditation sessions were so profound and wild to be both fascinating and frightening. It is hard to describe such experience, but basically, you the notion of space and time is temporarylost , even the concept of you and the world disappears. Some people have similar experiences spontaneously, even if they don't practice formal meditation.

And once that you see something, it cannot be “unseen”. I knew I will be doing this the rest of my life.

Consequently, at least within formal Zen meditation, I could confirm that the more you cling to a particular outcome, the more such outcome eludes you. In other words, if you want to have a deep meditation experience, you must let go all the concepts: “deep meditation experience”, “to have”, “want”, and “you”. If you do that, it just happens, efforlessly. You experience things beyond your wildest imagination, but as soon as you cling to such experience, it dissapears.

For that reason it is said that Zen is the art of letting go.

Once you take sitting meditaiton seriously, and practice it consistently, the same words unveil more profound meanings. And this crazy idea of “stop chasing happiness” starts to make sense.

And I have to say, I'm a terrible Zen student, but I'm quite stubborn. So, drop by drop, the brain gets soaked.

I was very fortunate to find my Zen teacher, because he's infinitely patient with me. I think he is one of the few in this world who accept me just as I am whilst keeping his role as a teacher by constantly pushing me, gently.

When we talk—and these days we don't do it often—sometimes he only looks at me whilst I'm saying nonsense and remains silent; then, I understand.

My experiences with Sunim (my teacher's teacher) were quite different. Basically, he kicked my arse quite early on. He had no time for me. He only trained people who intended to become full-time teachers—ironically, many of them left, and I'm still around, hahaha. No harsh feelings though. I treasure Sunim's teachings and, to this day, remember most of his words—from public Dharma talks and private interviews. As my practice matures, his words slowly acquire new dimensions.

Is this guy wraping up his stream of consciosness at some point?

All that to say, that my meditation practice has plateaued out again. An ocean separate me from my teacher and Sangha. Sunim died this year. My life is going through drastic changes in ways I neither wanted nor imagined.

My fears cause unnecessary suffering whilst I remain pessimistic but hopeful as I contemplate a looming future.

After spending most of 2022 looking at the cracks in the wall and see how it is slowly collapsing, my conclusion is that I must stop chasing any idea of happiness in my own life and focus on doing something else. What “something else” is, I don't know yet.

And most importantly, I must stop pretending I have any idea of how to make other people happy. That's an absurd and harmful belief.

The mere thought experiment of picturing my life without the burden of happiness—neither mine nor others'—is quite exciting. Infinite possibilities and a lot of freedom lay ahead. Which does not mean I won't care about others or myself. Paradoxically, I think that's the only way I can truly take care people—me included.

The first step is to get rid of the fears of the unknown, remove distractions and focus on the important—so, drastic changes must happen in the following months. Then, I should be able to figure out what's the next step.

I've met enough people who fearlessly live their lives without following expected patterns to convinced myself it is an achievable goal.

These fearless humans are like tigers. They are simple people, not particularly smart, or wealthy, or skillful. Most likely you'll pass them by if you come across them on the street because they are not shinny. They never talk about happiness, or achievements. Neither dwell a lot in the past nor the future.

Always doing something without being busy. Effortlessly acting, gracefully moving through life. They are those who cry without bitterness, and laugh like the morning sun.

That is is my theory about happiness.

If you want something that resembles happiness in your life, you must renounce to it. You must let go all your ideas about what happiness is, how it looks like, and what you need to do to “get it”; throw everything away. Just embrace a life with neither certainties nor expectations, fearlessly.

And it is not passivity, it does not mean you just wait that something happen to you. Not at all, it is hard work. Getting rid of attachments is probably the hardest task we can ever undertake.

However, whilst facing your fears and getting rid of attachements, something resembling happiness will come to your life in the most unimaginable ways. But, (but, but, but) never forget that the moment you cling to it, it will go away.

Experience life, playfully. Observe the coming and going of events, freely. Act, moment to moment, generously.

Just do it.