Classroom Talk
Spring - Summer 2002 Archive
About victory: picking up one's bag of gifts and keeping on. Posted by John on May 29, 2002 at 16:58:35:
Victory is always within our grasp . . . if we are not being "a runaway train." Being able to pause, and wake up, and reflect is what makes the big
difference here. One doesn't have to "buy in" with one's first thoughts that come up about any matter or problem.
Those are just thoughts. And if there is a problem, and if we wake up and reflect upon what our ego-driven personality is doing in reaction to the
problem, it is possible to realize: "That's only thinking." We don't have to accept that our first thoughts about the matter are the last word on the
subject. We can pause, and keep pausing, until it *comes to us clearly* either to go ahead after all, and advance as we were going to do in the first
place . . . or keep pausing some more, and reflecting—remaining quiet and keeping on seeing whatever we notice that turns up. Maybe there's a
better way.
Because of the nature of our make-up (which you students can come to see more and more clearly on your own in the course of taking this class), we
can pretty much take it for granted that the first reactions that are going to come up in any problem situation are going to be the reactions of the ego-
driven personality. That's just human. We have set our Selves up that way. It's not only the poor or the rich, the old or the young, one race or tribe
or another, the uneducated or the educated—it's *all of us*. That's the human condition, for all of us on this planet, after our brief terms of childhood
enlightenment. We have all set our Selves up that way since then.
Masters, too. Masters are not perfect. Masters are simply men and women who fully understand that they have set their Self up that way. And
being masters (which means practitioners of being mindfully awake and *seeing*), they are able to realize that their first set of reactions to a problem is
often not the answer. And they know then, from their experience above all, and their training and practice, to just wait, and watch. And then,
sometimes, their first way of doing it *is* the path. And sometimes a better path shows up.
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I'm delighted that you are continuing with our exercise, Pauline. Already there's much good in it, for me! I get the satisfaction of seeing you pausing
to take an objective look at your Self. More and more, we're starting to do that around here. That's what my job here is about. I feel good when I
see that working.
There are volumes of understanding for you in just the short answers you gave to those questions of mine the other day. Don't let your Self be
disappointed about what you find. See if you can be glad. All of us in this class ought to catch on to the good feeling of being glad when you spot
some more clear understandings of your Self, recognitions of the ways that you have been automatically getting in your own way during your life.
Yipppeeee! This is not a time to mourn. This is a time to exult. For every time you understand something new about the habitual make-up of your
own Self, the closer you are to *turning those liabilities around*, and making a new life for your inner Being—every day!—a life that is closer to what
you would like to see life be about, with your eyes open, *on purpose*! . . . and using the tools of human beingness that you were born with!
And there are victories in this all along the way, if you wake up and know what you are playing for, and you play it from the heart, within (instead of
those grasping habitual mechanisms on the outside that you used to do by rote, instead—all that personality "funny stuff."). It doesn't matter what life
serves up. There are victories to be had all along the way. — Oh, I'm not saying you will know what those victories are in advance. (*Supposedly*
knowing "what the victories are in advance" is the ego.) In real life, those victories will catch you by surprise, every time . . . they will be victories that
you didn't know existed before (while you were being so thoroughly preoccupied in your sleep with the "victories that you knew in advance.").
"Aha!" you will say about these victories.
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Douglas, you were puzzled about my idea of a play with little or no dialogue. That exercise was designed for any of you, to sharpen up attention to
all that can be understood and appreciated of what is happening in a dramatic performance (such as life) before the dialogue even begins.
Let's say we have an obviously distinguished-looking fellow, carrying a sack slung over his back with his good arm, walking the streets of, say, New
York City. For awhile, he stands on the divider in the middle of a busy street, sack on the ground beside him, and catches the eye of motorists now
and then by holding forth a cardboard sign that is on a cord around his neck.
Viewing him from the back, we don't see what the sign says, but some of the passing motorists make nasty remarks to him as they drive past, some
look away and pretend they don't see him at all (but they do), and others stop and give him money, or give him things from beside them in the car,
and then they pause there with him for awhile, right in the street, sitting there behind the wheels of their cars with their feet on the brakes, sometimes
stopping traffic.
And they look at him for a period of time. He seems to be talking. If so, we can't hear what he is saying. Some of the other motorists who drive up
behind them start honking, but these few drivers who stop beside the man go on waiting and keep watching him . . . and then drive away—sometimes
shaking their heads, and sometimes laughing and laughing behind the wheels of their cars. Here we see one of them crying, with a smile on his face.
He has been touched deeply to the heart, apparently.
With the sack over his shoulder, the man walks over then to the Public Library, where a lady there helps him to get set up in a cubicle with one of the
computers that are available for public use. She doesn't say anything. We see from her gestures that she seems to be fond of him, though he seems to
be unaware of that. Out of his sack, he pulls a left-handed keyboard that he uses. We see that the librarian isn't sure where to connect the keyboard.
As if absent-mindedly, she brushes her body against him, in finding the place to plug it in. His head turns toward her, as if he is wondering about
that. But she doesn't look towards him again as he watches her leave.
He takes off his hat and puts it on a table there. We see that the hat is weather-worn. He reaches down into his sack and takes out an old book
which he puts beside the keyboard. We see that it has gold lettering on the cloth cover, but we can't make out what it says. He turns on the
computer. He reaches into the sack and pulls out a sheaf of printed pages, which he puts down beside the hat. Finally, he fishes around until he finds
a computer disk, which he takes out of its box and puts into the computer. A blank page comes up on the computer screen. The title bar says "Life."
He reaches into a pocket and pulls out a nectarine, wrapped in the torn-out page of a magazine. And he takes a bite. It is juicy, and it drips on the
cardboard sign that is on the cord around his neck, and he puts the nectarine down and takes off the sign and puts it on the sheaf of pages beside his
hat. "Will recite classics for food," the sign says.
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Eon, you are a Macedonian champion! I've got to hand it to you. {with a big grin on my face} And you're doin' it all on your own. Whatever
coaching tips you may pick up on here in this class, it's you that has to do all the hard work there in making your life work, while I just sit back and
enjoy. And good for your girlfriend, too! She's surely a champion, as well. My deepest best wishes and fondness and congratulations to you both.
A good man is hard to find. And so is a good woman. Yet, if we remain aware of our aim in this, we can do this finding. And then it's hard to stay
together, making a great new life *for you both*. But it can be done, if each one lives a reflective life, and, by remaining aware of their aim in this, and
being sensitive to the other, respectful, and sweet. Or, at least, one can have a much better chance to keep love alive this way, is what I imagine.
I was thinking about a beautiful line of the Beatles when I wrote that class last week, only I couldn't quite remember how it went at the time. Over the
holiday weekend, I phoned to a friend to look it up for me in a book. Paul McCartney, one of my favorite troubador teachers in the public world of
spiritual mastery at large, made the point in "The End," the last song that marked the completion of the Beatles Era, when he sang:
"And in the end, the love you take is equal to the love you make."
Yeah! That's such a key thing to keep in mind—starting at any point in time and space. Make love. Make love happen anywhere, as much as you
honestly and sincerely can, and, with a little empty-headed patience (by stepping aside from the thinking-thinking-thinking of personality) you will . . . .
. see what happens, with your own eyes. This is not "a path of intellect." It's "a path with heart." Don't try to predict the outcomes. Take the
surprises that you get. Follow your heart. Pick up your sack of gifts and follow life through to the end.
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There is a picture of Hotei on the wall behind my computer (it came as a card last December)—not only a beautifully designed image, which gives a
striking visual sensation of depth, light and shadow, and form . . . but there is a message in it to me, as well, which is just as deep. I'd like to quote it
here:
"Perhaps, as you have wandered about Chinatown, you have observed in a shop window, the statuette of a stout man carrying a huge sack. Chinese
Merchants call him the Happy Chinaman or the Laughing Buddha. His actual name was Hotei.
"In Japan, he is known as Daikoku, one of the seven lucky Gods.
"Hotei is recorded to have died in 916 c.e. during the T'ang Dynasty. Although a Zen Buddhist Master, he was a poor an unassuming soul. Daily he
would walk the streets with his sack loaded with gifts; it was a bottomless cornucopia and source of benevolence. These gifts he would give to the
children who gathered around him in play wherever he established his kindergarten of the streets — a Buddhist Santa Claus in other words.
"Once, as he was about his mission, two Zen Masters happened along. The first inquired: 'What is the significance of Zen?'
"Hotei immediately plopped his sack down on the ground in silent answer.
"'Then," asked the other Zen Master, 'What is the actualization of Zen?'
"At once, Hotei swung the sack over his shoulder and continued on his way.
" . . .
"May you find such meaning in the coming year," this card says.
"Affectionately Douglas."
. . . . . . . It appears this year, we may both be finding the meaning of this card you have conceived and designed only six months ago, Douglas. Thank
you. And . . . like the teachers *do* so often say to the students . . . (and like Hotei, who knew the wonderful magical secrets of a play without
dialogue) . . . "You already knew it, on your own, all along." Heh-heh.
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Pauline . . . let's see. I'm going to respond to your good answers to my questions over there, under "Pauline's Thread." Tomorrow, maybe. Thank
you.
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These have been incredibly stressful days for me here in Tucson. What an adventure life is! Two of the four days I was out at the ranch, the
temperature there went over 100. Of all things, the air conditioner has gone out in my van. The blazing desert sun can make the steering wheel too
hot to touch. A few times, I had to pour water on it to drive. On the second day I left my lights on in the morning, and ran my battery down so low
even the dashboard lights wouldn't come on when I tried to start it up after sundown to go home. When I turned the key, there wasn't even that
"click." I don't know how a so-called mindfulness teacher pulled a stunt like that one off, but—well, it's obvious and apparent—that's how spaced-out
yer ol' coach can get sometimes! Two days later, with the help of a dear fellow hand, I got it charged up and started again.
We're starting to see the rattlers coming out in numbers now, one small one I came upon in the road all stretched out with a big bird in its mouth. I
didn't think it'd be able to get it down. But they manage. (I didn't try to help.) Two days in a row I saw a big fox resting in the shade by the side of
the stable in the afternoon. It ran off right away into the desert when it saw me—big bushy tail flapping in the breeze. I put out a pan of water over
there.
And I saw a huge gila monster—beaded, bright orange and black, a poisonous lizard, as tough as they get—only the fourth one I've seen in all my
years out there. It waddled spryly into a tree well that I had just watered minutes before, where the water had sunk right into the thirsty ground,
almost too fast for that gila monster to catch a quick gulp. This is the worst drought in a hundred years in southern Arizona.
And an enormous fire is burning some miles from there now, twenty thousand acres of pines turning black up in the Catalina Mountains, filling the sky
with smoke. They say it's the biggest forest fire in the whole U.S. at this time—and it's still less than half contained. I was practically out of breath
more than once during those days. I remembered don Coyotl saying, "Just defy it." And so I did. They say that forest fire is driving thirsty mountain
lions down into the valleys from the mountains up there. I've been keeping my eyes peeled; you can be sure of that. And I carry a little steel Army
shovel with a stout polished wooden handle with me when I'm way off in the field on my own.
Life. Isn't it just too much to be believed sometimes? . . . If you just let it be, it can be so *wonderful* . . . . . and when absolutely necessary, if you defy
it?
Coach {all smiles today and feelin' good}
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Archived 08/26/2002