He would happily wreck the earth
And swallow the world in a yawn.
-Charles Baudelaire
"Well I used to stand for something
Now I'm on my hands and knees."
-Nine Inch Nails
I'm not satisfied. Are you?
At a time when so many Americans do not, I am lucky enough to have a pretty steady job. I rent a house with a wonderful girlfriend and an inspirational roommate. We have a garden and friends loving families and all sorts of luxuries. So who am I to be dissatisfied? Unfortunately, I cannot manipulate this emotion with this kind of logic. As much as I want to be here, and despite the fact that I have all I need and more, I am disturbed.
Years ago, when I lived at J140, I was irritated at the fact that I only needed my job to pay for my car, and only had my car to get to and from work. Neither the car nor the job was inherently frustrating--the cycle was. Either would have been unnecessary without the other, and therefore they demanded each other's importance. At this point, Jenny and I are both disillusioned with our jobs but, in spite of the choices and changes I made in 2007, we cannot leave these jobs. Lifestyle:car job:jobs. We could get other jobs, but I see no reason why it wouldn't be just the same. The trouble is the idea that we have to be living this way. (I know, I've been here, I've done this. I know better and have proven that I don't have to live this way. But with a changed variable--Jenny--I am trapped by the idea that we have to live this way; if it's going to be "us," then it has to be "this."
Samsara is translated as "the endless cycle of suffering," and in my mind this is a perfect example.
I grabbed my trusty Path of Heroes recently and opened, randomly, to page 133. (We only notice opening to a random page when doing to produces a resonating result, and this is what happened.)
From birth we have been trained in samsara; our models for action are worldly models. Because we are deeply enmeshed in samsaric patterns, we rarely sense that there could be other possibilities for thought and action.* For us to consider a fresh perspective is like being asked to wake up from a dream when we do not know that we are asleep. Thinking ourselves to be fully conscious, we may even laugh at those who try to help us awaken.
Even as we consider the teachings presented here, our judgment is samsaric. Tricky and clever, samsara twists our thoughts into a pattern of self-deception. Although we may admire the Buddha and the Bodhisattvas, we may feel that their way is not for us: We feat that if we were to lose our samsaric pleasures, life might no longer be enjoyable or worthwhile. It is very difficult to go against this pattern and persuade the mind that another way of being is not only possible, but vastly preferable.
And yet, once we have caught a small glimpse of the true nature of existence, we can see our situation with more clarity. We can see for ourselves that suffering does not have to be our reality, and that it will disappear if we wake up. It is time for a different way of being: the path we have traveled so many times before has led us only to pain and suffering.* If we change our patterns of mind and behavior, there is no need to repeat them.
The term "samsara" may be more easily understood in the form of Daniel Quinn's Mother Culture:
Mother culture teaches you... Your place is here, participating in this story, putting your shoulder to the wheel, and as a reward, being fed. There is no 'something else.' To step out of this story is to fall off the edge of the world. There's no way out of it except through death. [ish, p37]
If you consider our civilization today, I think it's easy to see how the idea of samsara applies. For nearly as long as I can remember, I've been overwhelmed by the feeling that something was wrong. There are people who love and who thrive in this culture; I am not one of those people. Even before I knew what samsara is, I knew I wanted to escape the pattern; saw no use for it, felt like there was no reason to live by it. So I got where I am now by trying to escape.
Stephen Batchelor points out in his book, Living With the Devil: "While in Hebrew Satan means "adversary," the Greek diabolos means "one who throws something across the path." In India, Buddha called the devil Mara, which in Pali and Sanskrit means "the killer." [p 17]
If my goal in life is to escape samsara, then whatever lies in my way is the diabolic, the devil. There are innumerable things in my way.
One of the big excuses that I used to put up was, If I'm Going To Break Away, I Need More Money First. I learned that this was wholly false, and yet here, years later, I still feel this way.
I used to think it was something I'd have to do on my own. I thought this because nobody seemed to feel the same. I felt like (feel like, really) that if I pulled someone along with me, they'd be just as dissatisfied as me, living a life they didn't feel strongly for. And plus, I'm just a loner kind of guy anyway. I've intentionally distanced myself from friends and family to make my course easier. I spent a number of years (2001-2009) planning on being a monk, because it just made sense to me. I never committed to monkdom though, because it ultimately seemed like a sheltered life; I figure to live an authentic life, I would best live it in the company of the world, rather than run from it.
When I started getting stressed over what this could mean for my life here, and my relationship with Jenny, I came across this passage from from the Pali canon of Buddhist texts:
[the one about the log and the river]After reading this, I realized there was no real reason why I couldn't
... There are many things in my way, but really there is only me.
'I see your troops all around me, Mara, but I will proceed with the struggle. Even if the whole world cannot defeat your army, will destroy it with the power of wisdom just as an unfired pot is smashed by a stone.' [lwd, p18]
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*emphasis added by me
