Committing to a Path

This is the post that I began the blog for. It was the decision reported here that I wanted to be able to explain, especially to my mom, and for which I wanted to provide the entire backdrop of my history for. So here it finally is. Unfortunately, I accidentally posted the next installment first (duh!) and can't figure out how to recall it. So all I can think to do is go ahead and release this one today, too. Sorry about that!

April 12

We watched the movie Elizabethtown last night and it made me so homesick I cried. Homesick? For Kentucky? Well, yeah. I did live there for 10 years. More than a quarter of my life. I knew it and understood it, more or less. Had many friends there, and knew how to make more. Plus, I realized, I was/am homesick for a time when I had less responsibility, when I was just a silly litle graduate student. And homesick for the newness of loving J, the falling-in-love days. And homesick for a pre-shingles me. Able to have fun and work hard, not crippled by pain and medication.

Would I really trade places with her? No way. I like who I'm becoming. I love my work, and I love J in a deeper way. I just feel wistful, and I still haven't made this place home, nor grown into my responsibilities. And I've been so sick and gotten so far behind that I feel I'll never live up to the opportunities I find here. But that, of course, is ridiculous. Maybe not ridiculous, but it has little chance of really happening. I'll get over this illness eventually. But it's hard to see from here to there, and even though I know J is here for me, and I have others, if I'd only reach out to them – I still feel very alone. Not lonely, most of the time, but alone. Well, no one can do my work for me.

[Long recounting of all the work to be done for the job and what had been left undone that week]

79

Failure is an opportunity

If you blame someone else,
There is no end to the blame.
Therefore the Master
Fulfills her own obligations
And corrects her own mistakes.
She does what she needs to do
And demands nothing of others.

Okay, is it not uncanny the way this book responds to what is going on in my life and what I write? Gee whiz!
I typically have more of a problem with over-blaming myself. That doesn't mean there aren't times I blame others – usually J. I will just keep watching myself. The problem is that I am not fulfilling my obligations due to the total lack of energy I've had with this sickness.

But blaming myself will lead to blame without end. Or is it blaming the sickness? Will that lead to blame with no end? I must just try to correct my mistakes, and make no demands on others. I've tried to go further and lighten the students' load, as well. I can go further by slowing down, cutting later material and such so that they are not burdened by rushing, too.

There is more I could get here. But I'm running late for class.

April 13

I feel kind of torn. On one hand I believe I'm making some spiritual progress. The mantra, for example, has rooted and feels available, just under the surface of consciousness, ready to call up at various points through the day. I'm almost ready to make the commitment to meditate, and I feel like many things are shifting around inside, ready to make me more patient, more loving, and more compassionate. On the other hand, I feel a great sadness, a heaviness of heart that makes me feel very close to tears all day. I have a deep wish to run away. I don't know exactly why. I'm tired and overburdened. I feel so behind and overwhelmed with class work and grading. There are only three weeks left of the semester, which is both a great thing and a burden, as I'll never get all the work done in that time. I don't know if I can do this. Maybe I'm not supposed to be a college professor.

And then I think maybe I'm just tired, and a wave of enthusiasm will rise again and carry me forward. I am excited about all the work I have lined up, all the possibilities for the future. I'm beginning to see how, indeed, the internships and independent studies, RAs, TAs, etc., will pile up, and I will have as much going on soon as my colleagues have. But will I be able to handle it? I do remember feeling this same way the first year of graduate school, that the work was impossible – no way it could ever be done. And yet here we are; I got it all done.

The thing is: that was just me. If I didn't make it, if I failed, there was only me to be hurt. I wouldn't be jeopardizing an entire household, which is how I feel now. How terrible if I pulled J to this part of the world, ruined his chances of ever getting a tenure-track job, and then I didn't get tenure! That is what I'm afraid of. And I believe my guilt and fear is coloring my view of, and feelings toward J. In addition to pain and meds and illness, of course. I did suggest to him last night that we make an agreement that if I don't get tenure we'll figure out something completely different to do: join the Peace Corps, teach English in Kazakstan, work for a non-profit in Cambodia, something. Sell off our belongings, find loving baby-sitters for our cats, and hit the road. He said "Okay."

And probably the thousands out there who say so are right, that daily exercise and daily meditation will boost my immune system and my energy, as well as help my body heal and my mind let go of some of its bundles of fear and guilt, and wanting for things not to change. I can't stay an irresponsible grad student. I have to become something else. And it's wonderful; it is the freedom I worked so hard for. But isn't the brand new beautiful butterfly a little frightened sometimes? A little overwhelmed by her new facilities? A little shocked that she is no longer a caterpillar, and does she feel a little homesickness or a moment of longing to return to what was familiar and known, even tho it tied her to the ground or the tree? I think I'm just in that moment, maybe.

Knowing these feelings are transitory only partially helps me bear them. I think I'll be calling my sister and my Mom today. Reach out and get some support. Not by talking about it necessarily, but just making contact, opening channels of love.

I began reading Mantak Chia's book on healing through the use of the Tao. And it made me think about how I'm going to use it, how I'm seeing my spiritual path. For right now, and I realize it may change as I get wiser, I want to make Hinduism my spiritual home. It has been since I first learned of it in college, in 1993. Its Truth jumped out at me. Seemed SO obvious. But I tried to be true to it and my history and culture by practicing Christianity as a form of bhakti yoga. And it worked . . . for a while.

But it couldn't last, because of all the baggage. That same history and culture sickened me, as it seemed to have lost Jesus. So, realizing now that it won't work to pretend to believe in Jesus' message as described by the human Church, I have to go to the true Source, the religion I truly believe has it right. The one I feel is the Mother of all religion, as they all find a welcome home in Her.

So that knowledge, tradition, wisdom and those practices are my home and will be my path and guide. I have a lot to learn. It is like being a baby when others are middle-aged. I mean, its being a middle-aged person that acts like a baby. But I also believe Taoism has something to offer. It is a different path to the exact same place. And neither religion is exclusive. I believe I can safely borrow from the Taoist stockpile of wisdom and practices. Just as I can see the monotheists' mystics as on the same path – or I mean, on different paths but going to the same place.

The Taoists offer one way of understanding the body – the flow of xi, or chi. I know India has its Ayurvedic wisdom, but I don't have access to that right now. Might it be okay to simultaneously learn how to manage xi? I guess I can try it. The worst thing that can happen is I'll get confused and it won't work. Mantak Chia himself is a great combiner of methods – uniting what he believes was and should be one, and stripping it from magic and secret/occult trappings, much like the Buddha himself. If there are other practices that can help heal me, I want to avail myself of them.

Okay, time for the Tao te Ching. Last one but one, and this trip through the book will be over. The message of this one I get, but still feel a resistance. Not sure it is totally right, though it is totally Chinese.

80

f a country is governed wisely,
Its inhabitants will be content.
They enjoy the labor of their hands
And don't waste time inventing
Labor saving machines

Oh! I just got it! Apply this to the mind, not the nation! If one governs one's mind well, it will work at its assigned labors, not dart off in a thousand directions. It won't keep suggesting short-cuts but will do the work properly. Aha! I'll have a different interpretation now of ALL the chapters on governance!

Since they dearly love their homes,
They aren't interested in travel.
There may be wagons and boats,
But these don't go anywhere.
There may be an arsenal of weapons,
But no one ever uses them.
See? And this refers to the senses, and the tricks of the mind to distract with tangential thoughts – the wagons and boats. One may know of a store of insults, put-downs, snappy comebacks, last words, but one never uses them. I get it! I first thought this was about provincialism, I mean, helped to explain Chinese provincialism – which it still might, as others might have interpreted this literally, too.

People enjoy their food,
Take pleasure in being with their families,
Spend weekends working in their gardens,
Delight in the doings of the neighborhood.

Be present. Be fully present and mindful in all you do. Connect with others deeply; listen fully to them, enjoy them, be fully with them and spend your free time profitably.

And even though the next country is so close

That people can hear its roosters crowing

And its dogs barking,

They are content to die of old age

Without ever having gone to see it.

And this, I think, is about not responding to desires – the desire to hurry, race to something novel, and wanting what the other guy has, keeping up with the Joneses. We ought to be in control of our desires, riding our senses and impulses instead of them riding us. Just because the Sirens send out their call – in SO many ways – doesn't mean we have to go. Fight the seduction to go see if what someone else has is better.

Doesn't this have to be the right interpretation? Even if it wasn't meant this way, it feels so right to me. This could make a great meditation scripture later. What does the translator say? Just this: "without ever having gone" Not that they are lacking in appropriate curiousity, but they have their priorities straight. So he's not telling us how to interpret it. Well, my version feels right and helpful to me, so that's what it is : )

April 14

The last chapter of the Tao te Ching.

81

True words aren't eloquent;
Eloquent words aren't true.
Wise men don't need to prove their point.
Men who need to prove their point aren't wise.
The Master has no posessions.
The more she does for others,
The happier she is.
The more she gives to others,
The wealthier she is.

The Tao nourishes by not forcing
By not dominating, the Master leads.

This does pretty much sum up the message of the Tao. As I have understood it. It is exciting to think of how much more I may get out of it later, when I am wiser, more spiritually mature.
Of course, the whole book belies the truth of the first stanza; much of it is very eloquent, as are many of the world's spiritual, mystical texts. But I guess the point is: don't believe things just because they are beautifully phrased. The next part I need to remember in arguments, and when I'm tempted to argue. I am an academic scholar; I believe in proving my points. But I don't need to do that outside the classroom and my scholarly writing, and even there I can do it in non-obnoxious, non-dominating ways. In personal arguments, especially about spiritual matters, there is no need to prove one's point. The proof should be in the life. Others will only hear the point when they are ready and willing to, anyway, regardless of how many logical proofs one supplies.

I know there are monks and sannyasin all over the world who truly have no possessions. I may get there some day, but for now, what I need to cultivate in myself is non-attachment. Own things, but don't let them own me. If I am asked, or I see a need, I ought to be able to give away whatever object is desired. And do it freely, with no holding on in my heart. Whoo – that will be hard. Especially with books. And art. Most of the rest I could easily let go of. So I'll work on it.

And, as ever, keep trying to learn to put others first. I like to think of myself as a pretty nice person, but I find it very difficult to put others first. I want to play with the computer. I'm tired and I just don't want to cook. I've been listening to people all day and I don't want to talk. I want to write. I want the TV off (I never win that one). It's all about me. I'm trying to shift to thinking only of what J wants, what he might need, but I find it difficult. I am a very self-centered, selfish person.

One thing that might help me with that is to remind myself it is the God, the Lord of the Universe, in J, that I serve. (Which also means it is myself – but leave that alone for now). It's helpful because, even though I love J, he is human, and we live together. It is harder to serve the person who just snapped at you, hurt your feelings, lost his temper, interrupted your reading, or put his stinky feet in your face. But to look at the eternal, sacred part of him, and serve that, I think it would be easier.

One more thing, and then I need to get to work. And it's changing the subject. I so very much want to share my growth and joy with my Mom, but I'm afraid to tell her really where I am. I'm trying to decide if I need to write to her and just say outright that I don't believe I will ever find my way to God through Christianity, and that my growth is/will be stunted if I keep trying to make that work. I may be able to find Jesus, especially among the Gnostics, but Christianity has too much negative stuff for me. It is always like beating my head against the wall.

I want and need to follow where the Spirit leads me. But I am afraid that will put something between us when I want our faith to bring us together. I guess I want her to accept, or to recognize that I thirst for righteousness, that I hunger after the Lord, that I have sought him earnesly most of my life. That seeking and yearning is taking me a different way, but I still believe she and I are headed to the same place; our goals are identical, though the method of arrival – indeed of travel – is somewhat different. Though really it doesn't differ that much.

Is it going to be okay? Can she, is she able to see this as positive? To not worry about me having been tempted by Satan or something?

The question arises because I do now feel there is a barrier to Mom and I really communicating. There will always be something held back. I don't want to convert her, or show her she's wrong, or fight or dispute. I want for her to walk her path, and for me to walk mine, and be able to share our ups and downs, to uphold one another in our efforts, to share inspirations, and all the things that fellow journey-women do. That is why I want to share with her where I am. I don't know that she even needs to know details, if she doesn't want to. Just that I've found my spiritual home In Hinduism, and that is where I'll begin to root myself. In the Sanatana Dharma. Should I write her? Or not? I want so much for her mind to be at ease about it.