Archive for July, 2009

Was the Buddha Jewish?

July 18, 2009

I just got back from a Buddhist retreat at Spirit Rock. Now I know that the essence of Buddhism comes from the 4 Noble Truths. The first Noble Truth is that all humans suffer. Now I don’t know about you, but I didn’t need to sit on my ass for 7 days to learn that! I mean I could get a Ph.D in angst. Malcolm Gladwell’s new book, “The Outliers,” says among other cool things, that it takes 10,000 hours to get good at anything. Well I’ve been suffering for most of my life so I’m an expert. I mean isn’t suffering the essence of life? If we didn’t have things to complain about, what would we do? I especially like it when something terrible happens. The Buddhists also say it always will and the Jews say, “You can’t be too careful”. The Buddhists also say great things also happen, but the Jews know that must mean something scary is just around the corner. Actually I’m a recovering complaining addict. I’ve been in a twelve step program to get over my whining, but I fall off the wagon several thousand times a day.

And now that the world has been handed a collective whoopee cushion in the form of the recent economic meltdown, we can all breathe a sigh of relief. Everything got a just a little too comfortable. I actually thought I could stop worrying about the future. But now I, and millions of foreclosed, 401k-less, unemployed, Ponzi-schemed or otherwise financially devastated individuals have to deal with the true uncertainties of life. Seems to me that the whole financial system is one big Ponzi scheme. I think Paul Krugman made this comment also: we’re all banking on new money coming in from China to pay off the loans we floated on the “full faith & credit” of our great land. So if the whole thing is a mirage what are we supposed to do?

Jack Kornfield summarized the essence of Buddhism this way, “No self, no problem.” Or another way of putting it, I guess is “shit happens, then it doesn’t, then it does, then it doesn’t until we finally realize that we have not control over anything, except our attitude.” Now this is very unJewish, so I guess the Buddha wasn’t a Member of the Tribe after all. I mean we’ve held it together all these centuries because we considered ourselves (let alone were considered) outsiders. There was always me, us, & them. Now there’s no separation between Bernie Madoff’s victims, the former Wall Street tycoons, and Joe Smith. We’re left with the stark realization that all we can control is our attitude. The shit hit the fan, we can’t change that.

So I’ve come up with the 5 Not So Noble Truths: Slow Down, Pay Attention, Breathe, Relax, and Lighten Up. It’s calisthenics for the soul. Try them the next time you realize how scary your economic plight is these days. They wont fix the problem you’re trying to solve but they may just help when it all seems too overwhelming.

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Is the Universe Jewish?

July 7, 2009

I was reading one of those “Idiot’s Guide to Quantum Mechanics,” and learned that our entire known universe represents maybe only 1-2% of what’s actually out there. The rest is completely unseen, beyond the scope of any knowing, except to know that it’s there and really must be responsible for an awful lot of stuff that happens.

It was then that I realized that this “Dark Matter,” must be Jewish. I always knew there was something sinister out there, no matter what the optimists say: I mean if I hear one more person tell me to “look on the bright side” after disaster hits, that “there’s a blessing in all of this,” or that “its darkest just before the dawn,” I’m going to vomit.

I know there are generations of Midwestern grandmothers, who outfit their homes with phrases like those, plucked from the shelves of countless identical gift shops with their oh too cute stuffed animals, lace doilies and spiced tea. But my grandmother never said anything like that. She leaned more to phrases that translated roughly as “may a lampshade grow in his stomach,” or some such epithet. These incantations generally had one thing in common: One had to be extremely careful lest something terrible descend from the general threats that were always lurking about, unseen.

When that danger zeros in on you and suddenly you are caught in its laser scope, everyone wants you to keep your chin up. And while I think Michele Obama is totally cool, her admonition to keep positive and never give up really irks me. I mean happiness may be pretty wonderful but the damn pursuit drives me batty, especially when some creep has stolen your money, the bank is handing out bonuses and you’re in foreclosure, or your boss got a raise and you got fired. There’s all these support groups out there telling you to forgive your mother or father or boss, to just let go and move on, that you can’t change things until you change yourself. I already feel badly enough, now I’m supposed to get rid of my depression.

Whining is definitely underrated. When the world descends onto your head so it feels a little like an overdone pancake, the last thing you need is for someone to tell you to cheer up.

Maybe some maharishi gets his minions to visualize lightness and levitate, but what I’d like to see is a nationwide network of non-support groups where we all get together and complain. Now that would be progress. Imagine a receptive audience for all your woes. We could even have a competition for the worst story. We’ll give awards for one-downsmanship. The possibilities are limitless.

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stressed is desserts spelled backwards

July 1, 2009

I hate those platitudes and clichés that make everything sound so simple. After all, it may be simple but it ain’t easy. One thing we’ve learned after centuries of taking grief is the value of enemies. Since so many have used Jews as scapegoats, we’ve been given clear targets for our suffering. But Jewish humor has a way of turning things around. Everything depends on your perspective, especially when events seem beyond your control.

After spending a good 6 months reminding myself what a creep the guy was who stole my money in a Ponzi scheme, I was sitting out on my deck watching the fog that often blankets the Big Sur Coast at the mouth of Rocky Creek. It seemed impenetrable as it slid further south. Yet at the crests of its wisps it disappeared into an endless blue sky.

To the east where Long Ridge climbed from the sea, Tanbarks were brown in the July sun, victims of Sudden Oak Death. Though my binoculars I saw the wilted, dry leaves—fuel for the fire which some day will again consume the canyon in nature’s endless cycle. But there were also the rich greens of Monterey Pine, Douglas Fir, and California Redwood. They’ve survived countless generations of man-made and natural attacks. When I focused on each tanbark it looked so forlorn, so used up and forgotten. Yet as I drew my eye away from the glasses I saw these once mighty oaks within the patchwork of the living mountain. Their part in the dance then seemed so obvious, natural, and necessary.

It was just a question of which lens I wanted to look through: the stess or the dessert! I couldn’t change what happened, but in looking at it all from a different angle, my attitude totally changed.

Many times when I worry about my material vulnerability, I start to panic; but once in a while I’m able to step back and see what it’s allowed me to see.

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