Enlightenment Stage

(conclusion)


Third stage
Enlightenment. This word has baffled many seekers and uplifted many mystics. An experience that is beyond words, that seems too fantastic, but very true for few people. Does enlightenment only choose the deserving? Why is it so elusive? Is it really true? Or is it just a concept, or worse, a hallucination? What is enlightenment, really? How does it look like? Does it look like God? Is it a blinding light from heavens? Or something emanates after meditating for a very long time? These questions, I would say, are rather existential. The only thing that differs is that the questions directly cast light on the pitch-black obscurity of enlightenment. This must be enlightenment's greatest irony: for what is dreamed as Light is nothing but a bewildering darkness.

The word enlightenment often reminds me of the Buddha, whose name has the Sanskrit root word budh, which means "to wake up." Thus, being enlightened and being awakened bear the same potential meaning. When I wake up and open my eyes, I see light. That is how both words are inseparable. But the entire humanity has been sleeping for centuries. We have been living our lives in the lies of our dreams, until it has become very true to us. These dreams are ingrained to the nature of our survival instincts well-programmed by our society. We have been sleeping and dreaming that we can last for eternity in achieving ends of utter materialism. We have forgotten to wake up to the true reality of our purpose. Now it is very hard to wake up. We cannot anymore distinguished the real from illusion. We have lived our lives this way. Waking up and opening our eyes are the only way to see again the nature of our lives. It would have been the easiest way to do. Yet, what makes it harder for us to wake up?

The third stage is perhaps the most misunderstood stage, yet the most fulfilling and enchanting. This stage is very true, at least as real as other stages. Misunderstanding the Enlightenment stage stems from the fact that Light is very real, yet it cannot be touched. Because our minds are often more inclined to focus on something tangible and find it truer than the intangible. It is the same way for Enlightenment. An impasse towards reaching this stage is this strong belief that Enlightenment is real but it is quite impossible to achieve, if not improbable. It reminds me of the first rainbow that I saw more than a year ago. I was with a friend riding a motorbike in a countryside road south of Manila. The rain had just stopped, with dark clouds already passed over the other side of the mountain. As we rode, we saw the whole arch, vivid over wide empty rice fields. The thought of seeing a rainbow made me excited to reach its end. But as we got nearer, it gradually disappeared, which I didn't expect. So it is in Enlightenment. We might be chasing rainbows after all. Nonetheless, that doesn't make the Enlightenment unreal. We do not really seek for Light. The truth, which is much harder than to expect the outcome of Enlightenment, is that we are, indeed, Light itself.

Max Lucado, a Christian author, writes: "The fire of your heart is the Light of your Path." I believe this gives clarity to what Christ means of becoming "the Light of the world." We are Light, but we have to choose to be. But this is beyond the light we know. We usually associate Light with the external flames ignited by its bearer. We thought our teachers, scriptures, traditions, beliefs, practices and rituals are casting lucid intellect and sentiments to our gloomy understanding. All throughout, discovering the external sources of Light is the stage of exploration, yet at the end of the search those dark uncertainties are about to reverse the process. This long sleep finally awakens us. True Light is never found outside, it shines from inside. It is the inner fire that keeps ablaze. After fueling ourselves with the external energies, we ignite our own beacon and become the source of the guiding Light for those who are also in search of their own Lights.

And what is the nature of this fire in our hearts? It is the metaphor of the everlasting power within us. It is always encompassing, because it is physical and yet metaphysical. This power remains ineffable, yet can be palpably expressed by any human being alive. Sharing this power makes it more empowering and exponentially unlimited to anyone's access. We get more of this power when we give it to someone, through physical means: being gentle, intimate, kind and compassionate are just among of its unmistakable evidence. With every expression of this power, it transcends the boundaries of mental and emotional limitations. Our intentions fuel our collective awareness to make this power defy all physical limitations of time and space. This power has its own dimension, when no rational brain can theorize and quantify. It can make things happen, bring wonders and miracles and feats no longer controlled by our senses. It continues to be elusive to the clutch of the spoken word, and freely exists in the realm of the possible.

From this fire that cannot be consumed comes the Light that illuminates the sight of the unawakened. We being the unawakened open our eyes and begin to transmute the separate entities of fire and Light into radiant awakening. This is the stage of Enlightenment, when we as awakened Pathfinders relinquish our craving for external power over material and physical world. Quenching our thirst for meaning wanes, as we become certain enough that the only way to become Enlightened is to live that truth of Light in ourselves and for others. Our job is to extend this indescribable radiance in many ways possible: sharing our knowledge of what is good, being of service to others, cultivating our deeper sense of Oneness, and becoming a Loving brother or sister in the spirit. We harness this enlightened power every time we become attune to our humanity, and thereby to our divinity. This radiant power, from which all power comes forth, is the power of Love.

Pathfinding never ends here. Our questions well up more, this time less existential, since our existence is now clear. We are no more in search for answers, but we explore and expand our infinite potentialities. We ask ourselves "How Loving am I whenever I fulfill my purpose?" When situations get tough, we ask "How can I see this in the eyes of Love?" When opportunity comes to become better persons "How can I do and have things with more Love?" When we see differences and strifes, we ask "What Loving ways can I resolve differences?" When we are uncertain of what will happen in our lives and the lives of others, we ask "What are those evidences of certainty do Love bring?" When we excite ourselves to learn more, we ask "How can I learn more about Love?" And when we see different lives struggling and enjoying one way or the other, we ask: "How can I Love these people without conditions?" We have infinite questions, and definitely, infinite answers.

From the torrential rains of existential questions to the branching streambeds of exploring answers, we now go back to the true source, the oceanic fountain of Light. We are coming to the full circle of the Pathfinding journey. We are not anymore flowing on a single river of answers, much as we do not seek any river to find and validate them. That is, all Pathfinding journeys are simply numerous divergence from the flow of truth that leads to the same origin, may it be religious traditions, spiritual principles, or philosophical concepts. Enlightenment is the rediscovery and reclamation of our enormous and endless spring of insights. Our questions, our means to answer them, and answers themselves come from that vastness within. Reaching the final stage is the beginning of understanding and experiencing Love without the barriers and blocks of reasoning and justifications. Being enlightened is not anymore elusive. It is right here and now. The Light of Love is always with us, waiting for our full awareness. Once we pay attention, it's like coming back again to where we really came from. And now we can finally say that we are truly home.

Exploration Stage

(third of the four-part series)


Second Stage
In the previous stage, questions might obscure clarity, especially to the extent that our minds inexhaustibly generate them. Finding ourselves amid this challenge, we are now beginning to start an exciting journey. Questions won't end unanswered. They are, in fact, beginnings. The word "question" has the same root origin of the word "quest." A quest is waiting for us. The outpouring of questions is like a spring that seeks ways to where it should flow. The flow is unpredictable, as it appears chaotic and random until it becomes evenly flowing. This flow is the Exploration stage.

Again, let's examine the word "explore." It comes from the word explorare which means "to cry out." Ancient hunters used the word to refer to searching someone in the wild. To put it in context of Pathfinding, we are in the stage of crying out the questions and searching for answers. Now, we do not just let the questions rotten our spirits. We cry them out to the world. Someone will hear and will know that we are in the verge of discovery.

Exploration stage is the stage of seeking answers. Like a flowing water, the whole process is unpredictable and nonlinear. It does not go in a straight line. It branches out and expands. Whenever we seek answers, we seek diverse possibilities. We cannot anymore rely on central concepts or sources, for they prove not their unreliability, but their rigidity. Our inner knowing feels that there must be another way of articulating a certain truth. This expands our consciousness to a rich variety of understanding.

As a result of exploration, we encounter many ways of expressing truth. Religions, philosophies, sciences, and arts are all human achievements in response to the call of Pathfinding. These achievements have their own degrees of differences . They have different branches that embody reinterpretations of the previous patterns of understanding. Nothing is ever a singular concept or way. Throughout history and evolution of human thought, the need to change and to expand has always been anticipated. It may disrupt the ongoing process, yet it paves the way to newer and bolder processes.

Many of us have begun our own explorations. Exposure to an organized religion, its rituals and dogmas have helped us seek further meaning. We also cross the boundaries of these beliefs, so we can have the glimpse of the colorful landscapes of other traditions. We experimented on doctrines to match its compatibility with our set of values and convictions. Later, we begin to ground ourselves with knowledge that have been preserved and taught by devout followers. We are exposed to practicing certain rites we fervently believe will give us answers. When we feel comfortable of its eccentric practices and languages, we prefer to stay longer and let the wisdom of that tradition take root in our consciousness.

Some of us are estranged with many religious traditions, so we choose secular approach to spirituality. We seek wisdom as we sift them from the vagaries of psychology, philosophy, and even popular culture. The intellectual voices of our modern times speak to us with familiarity and wit, and touches our deeper perception towards the hazy truths we long to understand. We churn out fragments of truths to explain realities bit by bit. We mix up a hodge podge of concepts and systems to comprehend our complex experiences.

Into the melange of innumerable views, we are determined to discover something. This is our persevering human spirit during the Exploration stage. We are clueless and yet almost certain that we can find something out of hindsight of our seemingly lost search for truth.

Apparently, we are caught with these pluralistic diversity. We begin again to question our quest, as we feel incredulous of the progress we make. We are now much more hesitant to move and more suspicious of finding and proving the sources of truth. We often ask: How truthful is this truth? Why does the truth I have found rings conflict with other truths? Do I really need to do a lot of rituals or defend numerous doctrines just to seek and know the truth? Do I need to read thousands of books and scriptures and participate on different gatherings and lectures so I can understand? Why is it that the more I seek, the more I get lost? Then perhaps, underlying these confusions, there must be an absolute truth. And that call to the absolute has never before boomed in the middle of loud existential noises.

At this point, we feel that all our efforts are useless. Exploring these endless, rugged terrains of knowledge eventually becomes nonsense. We've had enough of all information from theories and techniques diverging from different branches, each contending with another, because we see more contradictions than consensus. We clearly see the patterns moving to different directions, yet something emerges. These processes of knowing are like rivers pulled into the centermost of its source, the vast sea of wisdom from which all knowing comes. Somehow, it defies the way we understand Pathfinding, for we have started our spiritual adventures outbound in searching something that will explain everything. Yet the directions we externally trailed are definitely illusions. We are soon to discover that journeying outside has long been leading us to journey inside. Finally, after these long current of exploration, we arrive in the deep, unlimited origins of our souls: the ocean of Enlightenment.

(to be concluded)

Existential Stage

(second of the four-part series)


First Stage
The word existential might raise philosophical and theological contentions. People have their own views on what existential means. On the other hand, understanding the Pathfinding stages is in no way of expounding any arguments and complex explanations. Disclaiming any possibilities might be a practical way to shed out many assumptions on using this word to describe the first stage. In this way, we can clearly examine how being existential clarifies the experience of finding the Path.

Let us take first the root word "exist." From this word the dilemmas of human consciousness arise. We are lives aware that we are alive, as Erich Fromm puts it. We exist but we are clueless why we do. So we begin to ask. As beings who knows that we know, it has been confounding to accept that we can throw questions that are hard to answer. Worse, to ask questions that remain unanswerable. The basic question is "Why do I exist?" It weighs equally with the question "Who am I?" Both questions are asked by so many people; these people became sages, some became philosophers, few became insane. The thought as to why we ask these kinds of questions adds to these profound anxieties. This capacity to ask makes our lives more mysterious. And to realize that death is waiting us without warning, that we can be swept without finding any answers, has troubled us far deeper than we can imagine.

Then, we have forgotten asking questions to a certain extent, in three very familiar ways: First, we forgot to ask questions, along with our refocused attentions towards making a living and good money for the sake of our survival. We have lost this ability when we left childhood. Second, we have lived in conformity and have submitted our lives to a questionable matrix of our existence. Yet we are afraid to ask. We fear to be outcast and to be renegades against our society. And third, we have bored ourselves asking the same questions over and over again. So we choose not to ask anymore and live our lives as we believe it should be.

However, this ability to ask questions is inherent to us. In fact, it is our nature to ask questions. Our consciousness is mystery itself seeking to uncover the workings of greater mysteries. We are questions seeking ourselves as answers. Micahel Gelb, author of How to Think Like Leonardo Da Vinci, talks about Curiosita, one of the principles Da Vinci used in his creative processes. Gelb discusses Da Vinci's unwavering attitude of curiosity. Da Vinci asked a lot of questions, and maintained his childlike sense of wonder. I believe most of us, as little kids, were used to ask rapid-fire questions. But our curiosities were staled because of our parents often scolded us to stop asking questions. In time we have learned to submit to conformity and blind faith, bringing this fear of asking questions.

We have seen in our histories how the questions of our great radical thinkers turned our world upside down. They were movers and shakers of their generations, used their fields of knowledge as tools to bombard their society with timely questions. They raised questions that helped restructure the old paradigm of the status quo and opened new doors to a more expansive worldview. Novelist Jostein Gaarder, author of Sophie's World, writes: "The most subversive people are those who ask questions." Asking question is an act of subversion towards a society living in deep-seated attachment on existing comfort zones. Those in these zones will do their best to resist this "disruption of balance" by eliminating the source of any threat of change.

Of course, we don't need to fear that we might cause threat against some established beliefs. Our generation has tolerated many questions that allow us to propel in science and technology. But our main step is to bring back the the mind and heart of curiosity, to ask questions again and not be threatened by our own efforts to seek answers.

The Existential stage of Pathfinding is the stage of asking questions. But questions are non-ordinary. They are questions referring to these encompassing life issues. Questions that cut through weakened assumptions and conclusions of secular and consumeristic lives. They often present the realities of asking about the human purpose, God's existence, magnitude of opposing polarities, mystical dimensions, exoteric and esoteric teachings, religious and spiritual experiences, skeptical search on the nature of truth, outlook on past, present, and future, and personal understanding of suffering and pleasure, of life and death.

The question might be as simple as "Why do I feel pain?" Pains may range from skin abrasions to emotional and mental anguish. Asking this question does not automatically jump-start us to search for an answer, whether or not it is beyond our comprehension. We often find some rational explanations (or timeless myths) that can cast light temporarily, yet insights will continue to elude the us.

To find oneself in this stage, try to ask this questions to yourself: Do I ask these existential questions in discussions, yet often brushed-off by others? Am I asking questions to deepen the understanding of my life? Do these questions make me crazy at some point in my life? Do I want to discover my true purpose, or understand mine and God's nature? Do I feel the need to transcend my personal understanding and open to the Higher Consciousness (or whatever I call it)? If you feel positive connections with these questions, you are now being called to respond to the powerful cause, of giving yourself to be in touch with the whole human and divine awareness. Your questions are no less than an epitome, a beacon of light that brings courage to those who are afraid to ask.

Even if we have reached the second and third stages, the first stage will remain part of our Pathfinding process. If we are like being drenched in raining question marks, we can find ourselves in this stage. There are no immediate answers. We better allow this cascades of questions to surge. It will naturally flow to the next stage: the streambed of exploration.

(to be continued)

Stages of Pathfinding

(first of the four-part series)

Do not go where the path may lead. Go instead where there is no path and leave a trail
--Ralph Waldo Emerson

Pathfinding is the spiritual process of understanding our true nature. Those who find the Path are called Pathfinders. Some dictionaries define this as someone who finds a new direction, maps unmapped territories and charts an uncharted geography. True enough, for Pathfinding is not just following a certain Path. It is the discovery of one's own Path in context of discovering other Paths. It is creating another route, trekking possibilities of the journey, risking the danger of unpredictable terrains. It is always an audacious task. Pathfinding is never forced to someone. It is always an emergent realization. A mystical inspiration is behind this, a mystery that calls for adventure. Once we respond, there is no turning back. Every step of our way leads to the Path.

Our history has produced great Pathfinders. They were moved by a greater purpose. They appeared in different parts of the world hundreds of years ago. These ancient Pathfinders embarked on a journey bringing with them mind-boggling and earth-shattering questions we ourselves are afraid to ask: Who am I? What is my purpose? Where do I come from? Where am I going? In a quest of answering these, they treaded a very difficult journey. Their lives were jeopardized by a series of threats and perils. They were mocked. Some of them were tortured. Others were killed. But they stayed relentless. Today, ancient Pathfinders are now revered because of their fearlessness of finding the Path. They had left trails for the new generations of Pathfinders. Their trails have reminded us to seek our own routes, and create another trail.

Our purpose is to follow their footsteps. To create routes where no one ever dared to risk. To get past these big challenges that might otherwise defeat us. There is a promise of fulfillment. And to seek further beyond the fringes of our current existence can be a terrifying experience. It dares us, nonetheless, to leave our comfort zones. We are no more following what the ancient masters did...we are crystallizing their legacies.

Pathfinding pushes our thresholds to the brink of our limiting consciousness. An evolution of soul takes place. We are evolving in an unprecedented pace. Finding the Path paces us more to see these changes, seeking our ways to become more and more aware of the role of this process in our spiritual journey. We live the laws of the universe and become leaders of this emerging mystical paradigm.

However, the Pathfinding process, as we observe them, follows some noticeable patterns. This is in no way of categorizing, though it apparently shows ongoing processes that are not always simultaneous. Regardless of age, most of us can find ourselves in 3 different stages of Pathfinding. Some people who have lived decades are still in the early stages; while some young people are in the advance search. This doesn't mean that one is inferior or superior to the other. There can be no difference, except the degree of how a Pathfinder is aware of the process. In fact, everyone of us finds the Path but not all of us are aware that we do. In the next three articles, I will articulate each of these stages, and accompany them with questions pertinent in assessing one's journey of Pathfinding .

(to be continued)

Happy Heart

My father's name is Felicisimo. It means "happiness." But my father has never been happy in his life. He did a lot of things he regrets today. He's been away from us since I was 11, until we reunited 2 years ago. I have never held a grudge against him. He had been a father in absentia. My memories of him as a kid were enough to fill my longing. We had our days of piggyback rides. He told candlelit tales during blackouts. He showed me how he cooked our meals. He taught me how to wash my plate. Though he was away, I still looked forward to seeing him again. His absence, which I became so used to, has ironically helped me more to see him as a father.

He traveled to many places around the world. He worked as a cook in a container ship circling around the globe. I was proud of him being a nomad of sorts. I used to brag about him among my classmates. When I show them my drawings of countries' flags around the world, I told them my father's feet "landed" in most of those countries. Because he traveled a lot, he seldom stayed home. I longed for him, much as I became used to his absence.

One day, he stopped traveling. He got a badly swollen knee, a few days after a sack of rice fell over him. This condition developed into arthritis. He never went on board a ship again. Today, he hardly walks, even sleeps, without pain. I could see him like an old atlas, bringing upon his shoulder a hellish planet of grudge, hatred, and frustrations towards his relatives, his past and his life. He had brought this cumbersome baggage that caused his knees to weaken. Despite this, he still struggles to walk on the path of his life.

My mother's name is Corazon. It means "heart." She had a daring heart ever since. When younger and unmarried, she had adventures in Manila, which was then the land of milk and honey for the countryside folks. She studied and worked there, even my grandparents were against her decisions. She became so much dedicated to her career, so she could change her life. She had a serious relationship, which failed after a few years. Yet, she was a very strong-willed woman. She cried and fell, then rose again.

She met my father and they became a very happy couple. But their happy days ended, after a series of revelations that made both of them disillusioned.

She worked abroad for more than a decade, helping many Chinese households in Hong Kong. I was then seven, so we grew up without her. I remember those happy days when she arrived with many bags of toys, fruits and clothes. We were very happy to have her back. But after a month she would leave again. I would always cry, harboring exaggerated fears for her like a plane crash. Kids cry when their mother leaves. That's the sad thing. I just thought today that leaving us must have been very hard for her. But she didn't lose heart. And even when she came back empty, she just went on.

She often tells us that she just cries over her problems. After that, she would wipe her tears and smile again. She does not wallow on her miseries, though she often reacts in rapid fire towards petty conflicts and difficulties. Sometime, she would talk about her trivial irritations with people, neighbors or relatives. She keeps grudges for sometime until they rot inside her, then discard them the way she throws away spoiled items when cleaning the fridge. Maybe that explains why her blood pressure fluctuates. She reacts, then she calms down. That's how her heart is.

I love learning about names, and where they came from. I am amazed to learn that I am a creation of my parents' Love for each other, and their names have become my wonderful experience. I shared the story of my parents' name to a friend and she just told me "So, you are a happy heart." She's right. I am a happy heart.

I am thankful for my father. His name reminds me to be happy always. Even though he is not happy right now, his name reminds me more to wish him happiness. It reminds me not to carry my past sorrows on my shoulder the sorrows of my past. It reminds me to walk with freedom, buoyancy and joy. I was always incensed in my childhood years, but when I reached my early twenties I learned to smile. I smile often and become a smiling guy wherever I go. I was reputed as a cheerful student who seemed not suffering from any problems. But that was not true. I did have problems. But smiling is one way to cope with them. Smiling has helped me more to live with happiness.

I am thankful for my mother. Her name reminds me not to lose heart in times of trouble, to face challenges with acceptance and to continue living my life. I endured sadness and disappointments, but I kept a heart full of hope. My mother is my model for courage (interestingly, courage originally means "heart" in French.) Because of her, I have grown my own heart. I have learned to widen it. I have never experienced Love this way before. And my heart is fulfilled.

I am a happy heart. This is beyond the meaning of my parents' names, or even the supposed meaning of happy and heart. I am a happy heart simply because I have learned how to Love, and learned that I am Love. A happy heart is a being of Love. It is our long yearning - to have a happy heart full of Love.

Nondoing

(conclusion)

A monk approaches a young master saying, "I have just come to this monastery. Would you kindly give me some instruction?" The master asks, "Have you eaten your breakfast?" "I have." "Then go wash your bowls." The monk awakens.
--A Zen anecdote


The Third Principle
Before, I used to say that the third principle is about "doing what you need to do." During those times I was a little bit uneasy about it, but it served as a compass in navigating my difficulties. Stop judging. stop expecting. Do what I need to do. They had served their purpose whenever I was caught in stormy situations. I just did what I needed to do. I was not lost, yet there was something to clarify the third principle. Doing things sometimes were confounding, since there were fears I used to confront. I was often dead on my tracks, unaware at times, even though without judging and expecting, that I did things that lead me to impulsive actions. I was more motivated with the ends, with what I can gain, with the advantage that favors me. All of them helped me, though attachment still lingered like a haunting ghost. There is something missing.

Those thoughts of being detached were nicely deceptive, because it had pushed me to act without any regard. Consequently I would see the aftermath of my choices, which dragged me slightly perturbed, if not badly. My best example is pushing away my thoughts and emotions. There were times of wrestling and grappling with them. I knock off whatever form I can sense them. Yet the scenario stays the same, especially when they come back. They are relentless, even brazen than they were. I was often deluded that I detach. Instead, I was indifferent and rejecting. I wasn't able to accept my thoughts and emotions as they are.

Years later, the mystery behind the third principle was demystified. I am doing what I need to do, and that is I do nothing. This is the secret behind. With everything I do, I do nothing. It's a sort of philosophical paradox. Because we are much more conditioned to think that not doing anything means idleness. So it is a logical thing to define contemplation of Nondoing as an apathetic escape. Our society has always emphasized more action to deal with problems, more plans to work ahead, more steps to do things. We are engrossed with a multitude of task, and have exhausted ourselves accomplishing them all at once. We want to meet a particular goal, a precise target, and we push ourselves to a limit where it does nothing but tire us without really accomplishing. For most people this understanding is vague and contradictory. Being part of the workforce can be said as evidence of participation, cooperation and fulfilling life's purpose. But we can ask again the same bugging question: Do we continue to do things we hate and deny? Are we only motivated by financial ends, by believing that we are not secure and we can be lost in the future? Do we fear to lose our reputation and power we have been painstakingly building and protecting? We can begin to rewire our old mental circuitry and reconnect again to the energy of our inner wisdom. Nondoing has to do with how our soul expresses itself in its own manner. And if our souls are kept repressed by many excuses of our robotic existence, everything we do will make us all feel empty. From that emptiness comes the awareness of things as we begin to ask questions and contemplate on our realities. This is the space of consciousness where Nondoing emerges.

Nondoing is not about what your hands are not doing over the material plane. It is not about laziness at work, or evading task at hand. Nondoing is a state of awareness of the moment, of beingness expressing itself as it does things. Nondoing is allowing, of letting go our control, of choosing not to mentally suffer over our physical difficulties. The things we do physically can still be futile if we only focus on the material and egoistic benefits we can get, which are all passing. But when we begin to focus on the act of doing itself without making any mental and emotional fuss, just for the appreciation of doing, then this is the practice of Nondoing. Nondoing transforms everything we do into soulful fulfillment.

Begin to examine how our thoughts and emotion interplay with moments of doing our everyday routine. Are we angry, frustrated, bored and uneasy, even though we are fairly productive? Our lives are often a series of episodes displaying our weariness, dreading the monotony of our past and its repercussion in the future. We are bothered and upset of the things we worry about. We lose our focus on the present moment, which brings us a rich plethora of experience, all are kaleidoscopic wisdom of our inner sensibilities.

Now we see if we can find any intimacy in what we are doing. We seldom do with joy if we hate the things we do, but allow patience to take place. See an in-depth lesson beneath each event we dislike. In Nondoing, there is more than just optimism. It is an intimate encounter with how our breath flows, how our thoughts distract, how our bodily pains manifest, how our emotions stir us. We have to feel them right then and there. We face the storm as we look at it straight to the eye, until we discover that the eye itself is no storm. This is detachment down to a fine art.

Take a minute to be aware of your breath. You can spend more time breathing before you sleep or after waking up. Feel your body, may it be in pain or in comfort. Let your thoughts flow like a flashflood; it will soon vanish. Same with your emotions, feel them with intense awareness. These are meditations of Nondoing, which everything occurs right here in your presence. When you create and do things, bless each stroke of hand. Do things with Love. Generate this inner kindness and gentleness. Let each work become a moving prayer. This attitude will naturally allow you to become nonjudging and nonexpecting, for you do things not because there is a reward or approval, but you do them with Loving awareness.

Those three principles of the art of Detachment often sound simplistic; at times, they are complex. The challenge for us is not to justify which is which, but to live the principles in every minute of our lives. It is not always easy, but beginnings are bold actions to undertake. We might start with full of apprehensions, but once we are there, things that seem disheartening makes us more lionhearted. Detachment has only one thing to teach us: that when we practice Nonjudging, Non-expecting and Nondoing, we let Love become our most ensouling experience.

Non-expecting

(third of the four-part series)


Second Principle
I read on a psychology textbook a quote by Jonathan Swift, author of the famous Gulliver's Travel. It says "Blessed he who does not expect anything, for he shall never be disappointed." This Beatitude-like phrase has been a personal reminder for the tricky meaning of expectations. Since then I have associated the word "expect" with the word "disappointed," which is quite true in many of my experiences. When I expected things and badly cling to an idea that I will get something I want, then I just found myself like counting sheep in a dream. I had been a hopeless kid romanticizing my life with daydreams of improbable things I had always wished for.

It was equally difficult for me to choose the life I want. In a series of my 3-year old journals, I read my words ranting on those pages with sharp disappointments, filled with contempt and curses, as well as my clueless speculations on my life ahead. That was the year when I decided not to pursue anything related to my former profession, although I had an undeniable need to make money out of any career. My relatives had been expecting me to practice what I finished, but I was still weary on the idea. People who learned that I was a licensed professional couldn't help but be rueful about my decision not to move abroad and seek a promising future. I preferred to stay in the country while most of my colleagues went abroad. I also resigned after six months, at the time when I was rewarded a regular job in a call center company. Almost all of my decisions were radically renegade against the status quo. While the world is expecting each of us to do these accepted norms, I have chosen to rebel by defining them irrational. Still, I wasn't able to escape the relentless grip of the society's expectations.

Little did I know that those expectations didn't come from outside. They were my ludicrous attachments towards the life patterns I often see in this matrix and use them to unconsciously mold my own.

Expectations are often confused with another related word, hope. Yet the word hope is something more Loving, freeing, and unconditional. On the other hand, expectation is far more different, since it is based on conditions dictated by our past encounters and social milieu. As a child, I am expected to behave well, so my parents won't get angry. As a student, I am expected to have high grades and do well in school. As a native, I am expected to follow cultural customs. As a professional, I am expected to unquestioningly accept the rules and regulations. As a well-adjusted person, I am expected to please people so I can avoid any dissonance with them. As a person of this era, I am expected to respond to the social trends and act accordingly. More often than not, expectations are solidified, accepted worldviews that have been governing our lives. And we blind faithfully accept them as truths.

Our society has been expecting us to behave well. That means, we must do the things that we often do not want to do but we are submissively doing, let alone reluctantly. We are also expected to have the same things others have, so we can feel much more well-defined than the rest. Amid these dimensions, we create our own tracks to rat race with each other. We compete base on what we have materially and intellectually assimilated. But there is something lacking, and it has strongly racked anybody's mind.

Detachment is practiced as a contemplation of Non-expecting. Non-expecting is an expanded perspective of one's capacity and possibility. It is a consecration of one's own unlimited potentials that cannot be limited in the narrow boxes of conventions. If Non-judging is about stopping conclusions and comparisons, Non-expecting is about disarming external illusions of achieving a certain end. Any goals or outcomes are impressions we thought are achievable by doing and having something. These impressions will ultimately disenchant us.

Practically, Non-expecting has a lot to do with how we respond in context. We don't expect ourselves according to how people or situations label us. We are beyond any labels. If we can't belong to a certain circle, it's just fine. If we can't please others, that's OK. If we can't side any causes, no problem. We arrive in this world as infants empowered with innocence, and we are not expected to do or to have. Yet we are fully accepted as pristine creatures of Love. And that's the job we need more to be this time.

On the personal level, we cease to expect good and bad things to happen, for there is no good or bad truths opposing each other. Everything is a continuum of realities, happening as they are, and the way we interpret them as good or bad would only make our lives miserable. Non-expecting also means more than liking and disliking; We stop expecting things to stay if we favor them or to fight off if we disfavor them. We embrace any circumstances that will soon to vanish, yet trusting that there is a purpose waiting to unfold. We need not expect to accomplish goals, when we come to realize that goals are nonexistent in the realm of Love. As often said, our journey itself is our destination. There is no outcome but the process we become.

Non-expecting can refine us a great deal in practicing the art of detachment. Freedom from externals and illusions inevitably detaches us from enslaving disappointments caused by our untamed thoughts and emotions. Our detachment lets our true Loving nature become what it must be.

(to be concluded)

Nonjudging

(second of the four-part series)


First principle
Judging is a default programming in our minds. It is something automatic, something we are unaware of. I remember a friend who often sees his world full of judgment. He has always something ugly and disagreeable to say about almost all people, situations and things that come in his way. Whenever he comes across with a person he hates, he would echo what the young psychic boy says in the movie Sixth Sense: "I see dead people." I would laugh on his sort of acidic humor and always tell him not to be too hard on people. He would simply quip and tell me he doesn't really care at all. I deeply understand how he finds his world in this way. He grew up in a family where the word unpleasant is palpable everyday. And he would tell me not to wonder, for his world has made him the person he is.

He reminds me of this default that I even hardly reprogram. Years ago I had judged a lot of things, such as how people see me, or how I see others, or those lousy TV programs and celebrities, or nonstop political commotions, or our lives becoming more stale and boring. I judged every thing down to the littlest detail, like that of the appearance of others, or the way they think in contrast with the way I think. I was a self-righteous man who often see myself thinking the proper way, working more excellent than others. When I found people much better than me, then I started to judge myself as worthless and deprived as I compared myself to them. Practicing Detachment has given me a clear perspective to see how judging works.

There are in fact 2 distinct ways of judging. The first one is to conclude. If we assume that any person, thing, or situation would happen or appear the way it happened in the past, this is abrupt conclusion. We conclude because we thought that our "bad" experiences might repeat again. Conclusions are rampant in our society everyday, and they go with different terms such as stereotyping and stigma. We conclude that things will go bad because of the dwindling economy or our lives would go wrong if we don't do something else. Our decisions are largely driven by our fears, and we often end up more regretful than what we were before. The second way is to compare. This is the other wing that makes judgment soar high in our senses. We often compare ourselves base on what we see in the society. We feel better when we find someone much worse than us. We feel worse when we find much better than us. This comparison encompasses different aspects, all of them are external factors, such as career, clothing, possessions, money and power.

It's about time to cut off these wings of judgments. This is never an overnight job. Nonetheless, with everyday awareness, we can see ourselves in the point of unconscious judging. The practice of this art calls for our vigilance and discipline. It does not really matter if you judge someone because they look unfashionable, as to compare judging someone being corrupt. Both are judgments, as long as you generate disgust, hatred and fault-finding attitude. It takes a small shift of consciousness, like that of crossing a railroad. When you find yourself judging, stop. Look at the person or situation you are judging. Listen to the voice of your compassion within: "I see a Loving person within him/her waiting to be awakened." "I see a Loving purpose in this situation/thing." Whenever you feel the urge to judge, challenge your thoughts. Then see the opportunity to intend blessings, in many ways you can; prayers, intentions, affirmations, and acceptance will suffice.

Often we have overlooked the power of judging ourselves, when in fact this is the most dangerous. Our ways of judging others are sheer reflections of how we judge ourselves. So the moment you dislike a person, whatever circumstances it takes, begin to reflect on your judgments. What is it you see in others that you can also see (but refuse to see) in yourself? This is a daunting task, but trust that you are bound to succeed. What you see outside is what is unheeded inside. No one causes you harm and problems but yourself. When you start become aware of this, you have reached the first step to Detachment.

Judging ourselves and others have resulted from our thoughts deeply ingrained in our unawareness. They manifest in the process of our automatic reactions towards outside circumstances, it ricochets back to us with disturbing emotions. Without mindful Nonjudging, we will perpetuate these repetitive forces that bring us inner hell. The basic medium of the art of Detachment is the constant awareness of Nonjudging. We begin to detach when we do not judge. This teaches us to do unbiased observation and alertness of our situations and the people involved, particularly the subject of our reactions. We eventually learn to see clearly, without bigotry and narrowmindedness. We can easily accept our own shortcomings and failures as we pursue our inner goodness that we can always be. We can share this by doing the same for others, with full understanding and empathy. In the light of Mother Teresa's words, when we stop judging, we can now spend more time for our most important task: Loving.


(to be continued)

The Art of Detachment

(first of the four-part series)

To be detached is to realize that there is always a higher purpose that can be found in any event, in any outcome. We can always find a silver lining, a positive meaning, that we can build on."

--James Redfield, The Secret of Shambhala: In Search of the Eleventh Insight.

Five years ago, in front of me were a pile of books and index cards, a month before I took my board exams. I was disenchanted by the fact that I could not be a topnotcher. Those subjects I had studied were all demanding, and my brain was bleeding with distress. Though I still aimed for the highest exam scores, I just thought I have to end up all of these and do what I really want. I only had 4 months to study. But I stopped for a month and spent it with frustrations and fantasies of my future life. Literally, I gave up. My mom insisted that I just needed only 2 months more and I am done. I resumed with a nonchalant mind, as I had accepted whatever possibility. During the exams, I brought no hand-outs and books, only my documents, 2 pencils, a pen and an eraser. I took the exam as if it was just an ordinary college exam. I shed the idea that this is a very important exam I need pass. I just sat down and answered the questions. A week passed, I received a message from my former teacher congratulating me. When I heard the news, I was blank, unsure of what to say. I was just unemotional. Though, I felt that something had changed. I became conscious of how being detached from that experience. I told myself not to worry, because the thing that I disliked would eventually end. I saw myself in a larger perspective; that all examinees, just like me, reached this point for a certain reason. I told myself that whether I pass or fail, there must be a very good reason that concerns my life's purpose. And there was. It has taught me the art of detachment.

We all feel disappointed when we fail on things we want to succeed. We all feel frustrated, when we cannot achieve something we want. We feel furious against our disgraceful selves. We feel guilty against things that remain undone and neglected. All of these are corrosive energies that eat our hearts and leave us seriously injured. What is worse is to think there is no cure. We quit. We give up this craziness of reaching for something unreachable, for clinging onto something temporary. This quitting and giving up are veiled by our fears and helplessness. Yet there is wisdom behind the veil. In the light of Love, this is the experience of detachment.

Practicing the art of detachment is a challenge for most of us who have lived lives with a lot of attachments. We are attached to a lot of beliefs, emotions and concepts; attached to our possessions and personalities, to our past grudges and regrets, to our future assumptions and expectations. We are glued to our problematic thoughts and emotions. We are hopeless that there is no way out. So instead of fighting, we flee away. But escaping is not detaching. There is a very big difference.

Detachment is a healthy, open-minded way of allowing things to happen in our lives, may it be external events or internal issues. We detach not by disliking a situation or escaping a difficult person, but to radically accept them as they are. We detach not by distracting ourselves with something we like to do just to escape unpleasant things, but to embrace both the negative and positive without bringing emotional baggage. Detachment is not an indifferent escape from reality. Rather, detachment is the courageous way of facing it.

Let me share this art that has helped me in many crises I went through. Detachment is also known in many other words, but I practice this art using 3 principles. They can be practiced separately or altogether. I will cast light on each of them, so you can see how they work and how miraculous they are. And it whatever ways you do, this art of detachment will lead you to insights of appreciating the life you have.

(to be continued)

Growing

(conclusion)

There is no other way for life but to grow. Growing is the basic movement of life. An acorn grows into a giant oak tree. A pup grows into a dog. A caterpillar grows into a butterfly. An infant grows into an adult human being. It is always a beautiful process, where miracles take place in every growth. No one of us can see the acorn from where the giant oak has grown, any more than a pup from a dog. A caterpillar disappears completely when the butterfly it has become flaps its wings. Likewise, we grown-ups cannot anymore see the baby we were used to be.

Neale Donald Walsch, author of the Conversations with God series, has a striking way of seeing growth and change: All change is change for the better. There is no such thing as change for the worse. As we change, everything becomes better, no matter how worse you find it. Our reasoning limits us to understand this natural process. We have to let go of our control over this organic change. Nothing is in regression. Our lives are always propelled to improve and to evolve.

But there is always an unprecedented thing in the process of growing. We often think that growth is about changing size or shape, or years adding up, or developing new skills. We often see growth us something chaotic, like an overnight big bang when heavenly things appear in an instant. Or something that gained by chance, a gamble between fortune and misfortune appearing one after the other. Worse, we see threat instead of growth, for the process of growth is a process of change that could shake the foundations of our comfort zones. Misunderstanding growth becomes a good reason to stop growing. We cocoon ourselves with heaps of justifications on why we should stay the way we are. We stagnate in this flowing movement, even if we bear this fervent need to change. We feel clueless and troubled, figuring out the best ways to get past this inert stage.

Being stuck in some place of our growth is, fortunately, a big part of growing. The life in an acorn is stuck, waiting for the perfect timing when the soil buries it and begin to germinate. A pup was once an embryo, just like us humans, "stuck" inside its mother's womb. A caterpillar sleeps into a pupa, sluggish little creature hanging in some leaf, unflustered by any kinds of weather. We might find this form of inaction as some waste of time, yet there is more to it than just inactivity. Amid a fast-paced world where changes flip in a blink of an eye, we must see the value of serenity of nondoing more than doing. We feel anxious of not acting on something, or perhaps unconcerned of our own growth while we are breathing our jammed lives, though this pause has something to bring us. This is the hiatus of our souls bringing the awareness of being, taking more deepened silence and rest to nurture the subtleness of our inner Love.

Wherever we are in our lives now, we are incubating ourselves perfectly, a stage of growing we are yet to discover as the most vital. To observe again how our beings become a being is indeed growing itself. It inevitably leads to the process, and meeting again in this endless spiral of change. Like that of a nautilus, whose body outgrows the space of the chamber inside its shell. It creates a more spacious one where it could fit and begin again, and the chamber it has left becomes part of its growing shell structure. Likewise, the being within us is a nautilus in the space of our consciousness, always expanding. Outgrowing the stagnant chamber that made us stuck has pushed us beyond our limits, and the new dimension we have found allows our being to become more than what we are used to. Loving our beings and sharing abundant Love make us grow more; indeed these three natural steps transcend our deeper sentience of Love.

An insight had once crossed my friend's mind. She thought it from an image to an idea to a feeling, something she found vague but profoundly simple: being with someone, sharing with someone, growing with someone. Her insights inspired me, as they oftentimes happen, of another insight. These three states are not separate with each other, but part of a continuum where the essence of Love realizes itself. They can be both states and stages, appearing as ascending steps towards understanding Love. And more than having another person, this "someone" is no one else but ourselves. Love has come to its full circle, when being, sharing, and growing the Love within finally awakens us.