Those who have been touched and influenced by the teachings of Ramana Maharshi (1979-1950) are changed.
He is not nearly as well-known as others among modern spiritual sages. He was not a founder of a movement or part of one. He was just someone who lived a simple life of wisdom and conveyed teachings to listeners and later to readers.
Wherever we have gone, whatever more particular traditions we have pursued, what we learned from him has been irreplaceable and unforgettable. If you are a part of any particular tradition, even if you find that tradition more than enough and prudently don’t want to overload your learning, he is worth exploring.
There are two kinds of exploration, two kinds of explorers.
One has a mission, an objective, something specific to find.
One explores to find not an objective, but whatever is discovered.
Both of these share something essential.
When they have arrived somewhere, anywhere, whatever the details, whatever their arrival seems to mean, they can say one thing:
Here I am. Here this is.
It is maybe coincidence that this is one of the shortest and most famous sayings in the Bible, a response when God calls to Abraham, Jacob, Moses and others. Hineni. Here I am.
In these stories, we can assume that God already knows where these people are, and that they know that God knows. Maybe they are saying it as a lesson to us.
Maybe they are teaching, whether authors of the Bible intended it or not, that whatever the story that has gone before or is yet to come, whatever exploration led to the moment and will lead on, there is nothing else but this. No yesterday or tomorrow. Nothing but this.
Like other religions, Buddhism describes a time of degeneration. The farther we are removed from original teachings—in Buddhism from the time of the Buddha—the worse the circumstances. Different religions deal with such worsening times with different scenarios for recovery, some of them dramatic and apocalyptic.
In Buddhism there is a less dramatic and more personal scheme for this period of degeneration. If all is a matter of mind, then training and taming the mind is the way.
Following is commentary on the conclusion of the Seven Points of Mind Training. It details the five kinds of degeneration and repeats the benefits of adversity: “The trainings are like fire, and adverse conditions are like firewood.”
The Excellent Conclusion
“This quintessential elixir of heart advice, which transforms the five kinds of rampant degeneration into the path of enlightenment, is a transmission from Serlingpa.”
In today’s world we need the elixir of mind training. We’re living in what’s referred to in dharma teachings as “a period of degeneration,” an era when sentient beings experience great adversity. There are five different kinds of degeneration, and each one affects our quality of life.
The degeneration of life span refers to the many beings whose lives are cut short because of violence and poor living conditions.
The degeneration of afflictive mental states refers to an increase in negative thoughts and emotions.
The degeneration of the quality of beings refers to the selfish inclination of beings and their willingness to harm others, as well as society’s devaluing of positive qualities such as honesty, consideration, and kindness.
The degeneration of views refers to the radical views that dominate people’s minds, which are not in harmony with the way things are.
The degeneration of time period refers to environmental pollution, natural disasters, and the rampant deterioration of the world, which greatly reduce the quality of life for all of the planet’s inhabitants.
But there’s good news. These degenerating times provide unlimited opportunities for us to apply the methods of mind training. In fact, the more adversity, the more mind training. The trainings are like fire, and adverse conditions are like firewood. The more firewood you pile on, the stronger the fire burns. That’s why this is the perfect teaching for right now. As adversity fuels our practice, we become better practitioners and better people.
There are many profound and effective methods for taming the mind within the dharma, but some of them take a long time to cultivate. The methods of mind training explained in this book, however, can bring immediate results when applied properly. They can be used by any practitioner to transform adverse conditions into the path of awakening. Whether you are old or young, experienced or inexperienced, have a highly evolved practice or are just beginning, it makes no difference. These methods work.
If there’s a remedy when trouble strikes, What reason is there for dejection? And if there is no help for it, What use is there in being glum? Shantideva, The Way of the Bodhisattva
Patience
10. If there’s a remedy when trouble strikes, What reason is there for dejection? And if there is no help for it, What use is there in being glum? Translated by the Padmakara Translation Group
10. If something can be fixed, what need Is there to be displeased? If something can’t be fixed, what good Is it to be displeased? Translated by David Karma Choephel
10. If something can be remedied Why be unhappy about it? And if there is no remedy for it, There is still no point in being unhappy. Translated by Geshe Kelsang Gyatso Rinpoche
His Holiness the Dalai Lama comments:
“We should try never to let our happy frame of mind be disturbed. Whether we are suffering at present or have suffered in the past, there is no reason to be unhappy. If we can remedy it, why be unhappy? And if we cannot, what use is there in being depressed about it? That just adds more unhappiness and does no good at all.”
Shantideva (695–743). Indian Buddhist scholar and author of the The Way of the Bodhisattva (Bodhicharyavatara).
The Way of the Bodhisattva is a guide to cultivating the mind of enlightenment and generating the qualities of love, compassion, generosity, and patience. The text has been studied, practiced, and expounded upon in an unbroken tradition for centuries, first in India, and later in Tibet. It outlines the path of the Bodhisattvas—those who renounce the peace of individual enlightenment and vow to work for the liberation of all beings and to attain buddhahood for their sake.
Randomness is one of the most helpful and illuminating elements of life. Gregory Bateson commented that within the holy of holies is a random number table.
The I Ching is one example. It is a book that offers thoughts based on numbers generated in various ways, and additional thoughts on those numbers changing their character. The system is viewed different ways. It may be that the numbers are reflections of the moment and the situation. It may be that the numbers are random, and it is that randomness that makes the thoughts most valuable, given that whatever path is taken, it is changing as we plan and step. Those plans and steps are good but temporary. As physics finds with quanta, or as Shunryu Suzuki said, “It is so, but it is not always so.”
Randomness can be used with any text, not just the I Ching. A cousin of random numbers is bibliomancy, in which a page and passage on that page in a book are randomly selected for advice.
I have used random numbers to explore texts from many traditions; the Tanakh/Hebrew Bible contains 929 chapters, for example. Today I applied it to the Dhammapada, considered the most accessible and most widely-read summary of the Buddha’s teachings. It contains 423 verses. The number generated was 3:
“He abused me, attacked me, Defeated me, robbed me!” For those carrying on like this, Hatred does not end.
“She abused me, attacked me, Defeated me, robbed me!” For those not carrying on like this, Hatred ends.
Dhammapada, Chapter 1 – Dichotomies, translated by Gil Fronsdal
As the following traditional verse makes clear, an intelligent form of patience is required if we’re to avoid being hurt and destabilized by the vicissitudes of life:
Even if you are prosperous like the gods, Pray do not be conceited. Even if you become as destitute as a hungry ghost, Pray do not be disheartened. Nāgārjuna, Precious Garland
Life’s trials often reduce us to damaged, bruised, and battered emotional wrecks. If we can bring a modicum of intelligence to our patience, we won’t become so exhilarated by our highs or self-defeated by our lows, as if we were suffering from bipolar disorder. Whichever of the two occurs, we’ll be able to maintain a sense of stability and groundedness. Patience is not a form of passivity, where we have no power over what life might throw at us. Even when life’s trials are unpleasant or upsetting, patience allows us to face them in a creative and beneficial way, with courage and dignity.
If things always went our way, we wouldn’t be able to develop high ideals and live a meaningful life. Instead of responding to difficulty the way we normally do, with frustration or impotent rage, we learn to approach life’s contingencies with patience and intelligence. The skillful exercise of patience will make us less flaky and predictable, and we’ll be able to utilize situations to our advantage.
We mistake the “AI race”. Usually we talk about how fast AI is being developed and how broadly it is being deployed and applied. Pretty fast and broadly—exponentially so.
At least half of our consideration should be on—I will be detailing the term that I avoid and must define—how much “stupider” we are allowing ourselves to get.
The race is between us and AI. It is conceivable that even if we freeze everything right now, we are behind with diminishing chance of catching up.
Now about “stupid”. It is rightly considered a harsh term. It may not reduce the harsh edge to say that what I mean is a lessened level of pertinent personal knowledge and a diminished ability to think things through completely.
By pertinent knowledge, I mean knowing what we need to know to lead lives comprehensively. To put it a different way, just knowing “stuff” and hearing about “stuff” and talking about “stuff” and thinking about “stuff” can be entertaining and time-occupying, and in balanced measure might be satisfying. But media and commercial culture insists that all kinds of “stuff” is important or essential to know. Which much of it isn’t.
By thinking things through completely, I mean what is often referred to as “critical thinking”, so often that is has become an ignorable cliché. It shouldn’t be ignored. There is more than one way to think about things. But all of those ways require thinking about things. Partial thinking, not thinking through completely, leads to not reaching goals and solving situations optimally or at all. Maybe we are lucky, or maybe someone assures us that that goals and solutions are possible—certain—if we just listen to and follow them. Relax and think about that other “stuff”.
Back to the race.
AI can know things for us, already does. AI can think things through more or less completely for us, already does (or claims to). When we give up on knowing what is essential and knowing those essentials ourselves, when we give up on thinking things through completely, we are behind AI and losing ground.
So we should get smarter and think harder. That may not put us ahead, but at least we will not get farther behind. For now.
I want to find a language that transforms language itself into steel for the spirit – a language to use against these sparkling silver insects, these jets. I want to sing. I want a language . . . that asks me to bear witness and that I can ask to bear witness, to what power there is in us to overcome this cosmic isolation. —Mahmoud Darwish
Mahmoud Darwish (1941–2008) was born in the village of al-Birwa, in the Galilee, Palestine. He became a refugee at age seven. He worked as a journalist and editor in Haifa and left to study in Moscow in 1970. His exilic journey took him to Cairo, Beirut, Tunis, Paris, Amman, and Ramallah, where he settled in 1995. He is one of the most celebrated and revered poets in the Arab world. He published more than thirty books, and his poetry has been translated into thirty-five languages.
Even if you are a lover of poetry, you may not have heard of Mahmoud Darwish, despite his work—poetry and prose—being celebrated and translated into thirty-five languages. Translation into English was late in coming. And there is so much culture to taste and consume that it may be incidental ignorance of Arab poetry in general and Palestinian poetry in particular that has kept it out of sight.
Sample praise:
“Darwish’s poetry is an epic effort to transform the lyrics of loss into the indefinitely postponed drama of return.” —Edward Said
“The most celebrated writer of verse in the Arab world.” —Adam Shatz, The New York Times
“Did as much as anyone to forge a Palestinian national consciousness.” —Peter Clark, The Guardian
“No poet in our time has confronted the violent tides of history with greater humanity or greater artistic range than Mahmoud Darwish. ―Michael Palmer, author of Company of Moths
“A world-class poet . . . Darwish has not only remade a national consciousness; he has reworked language and poetic tradition to do so.” ―Fiona Sampson, The Guardian
“Darwish, beloved as the beacon-voice of Palestinians scattered around the globe, had an uncanny ability to create unforgettable, richly descriptive poems, songs of homesick longing which resonate with displaced people everywhere.” ― Naomi Shihab Nye
“No list on Palestinian literature is complete without the acclaimed poet Mahmoud Darwish.” —Esquire
“Mahmoud Darwish is perhaps the foremost Palestinian poet of last century.” —Tablet
There are too many books to feature just one. Please consider giving Mahmoud Darwish a try.
Bob Schwartz 