In which I discover I'm Buddh-ish

It's not a new discovery, though. I've had Buddhish tendencies all my life, I think. When I was a young Mormon girl I understood resurrection to mean reincarnation. I asked for clarification once, "You mean I could have been born before, then died, then came back as me?" Something like that, and my Sunday School teacher, who either wasn't listening or who did not understand what I was asking said, "Yes." Maybe, "Yep," but for awhile that confirmed it for me. Now I'm a gal with the tendencies who does not believe in resurrection nor reincarnation necessarily, but feel drawn to a life that includes paying attention and living with what is.

What is isn't always that exciting. Sometimes it's embarrassing and awkward. There are those ghost cats I wrote about last week and occasional moments of recognition that I'm not the "good" girl I thought I was. Being human is a different experience than the story goes. On Facebook last week I made a funny post about a quote attributed to the Buddha himself. I wrote that I doubted there ever was such a fellow but that this quote agreed with my reason and common sense. But there are writings about Gautama, just as there are about Jesus, and perhaps there was a human being who went through these experiences that led to the birth of Buddhism. This week I picked up Brad Warner's latest Sex, Sin and Zen at the bookstore. I manage to squeak in about five minutes of reading a night before collapsing in ultimate fatigue.  In the first few chapters he quotes one of those writings, the Kalama Sutra, and, synchronicity for me, uses a very similar selection to the quote I posted on Facebook:

Rely not on the teacher, but on the teaching. Rely not on the words of the teaching, but on the spirit of the words.  Rely not on theory, but on experience. Do not believe in anything simply because you have heard it. Do not believe in traditions because they have been handed down for many generations. Do not believe in anything because it is spoken and rumored by many. Do not believe in anything because it is written in your religious books. Do not believe in anything merely on the authority of your teachers and elders. But after observation and analysis, when you find that anything agrees with reason and is conducive to the good and benefit of one and all, then accept it and live up to it.

I won't call myself a Buddhist or any "ist," but this quote does sum it up for me. The incohate sense of the wisdom behind these words has been there from my high school days when I first doubted the religion in which I'd been immersed.  This week a series of coincidences and trains of thought have brought on a new sort of Buddhish epiphany: That of the Middle Way. Enough that I'm considering changing the heading to this blog. I'm referring to "looking for clarity and simplicity through..." That is to say, I'd already chosen what I thought would bring about clarity and simplicity (yoga, diet, sustainability) in theory. Would it hold out in practice? What if it didn't? Am I big enough to lose some face over it?

Early this summer I attempted a switch to a "pure" diet of raw, whole foods. I think this was an almost religious move on my part--a sense that I was not pure or whole and needed to get there. We see that a lot in the idealist, spiritual side of things. It's the Adam and Eve syndrome. We're fallen, filthy, etcetera, etcetera. I did feel good in one sense. I was at a good body weight. My yoga was lighter and more effortless. For awhile. But it threw me out of balance in other ways. Weight crept back on when I ate too many avocados or nuts. It wasn't the answer to all that ailed me. I still got irritable, still entangled myself in desire. In short, I was no more pure than six years ago when I ate anything and it showed. Warner talks about the pendulum swing in traditional philosophy/religion between materialism and spirituality. You can worship the body and neglect the mind and you can destroy the body in an effort to find an incredible spiritual high. Neither works for very long and Buddha's recognition of this was the advent of The Middle Way. This hit me like a ton of bricks last night. Enough that I got up and baked some chocolate chip cookies and ate a moderate two of them, enjoyed them, and woke up this morning feeling just fine. I do not believe I am a chocolate chip cookie fiend, nor in danger of becoming one. In fact, I haven't craved another since. Funny, that.

But here's the angle that really sells me on Buddhism, at least the kind that Brad Warner writes about and the kind I've always thought rang true: it is real, not too full of itself, and does not make fancy promises.

Every religion, philosophy, addiction, and any other method for dealing with what life throws at us that I've ever encountered says, "You feel unfulfilled? Okay. Try this. It will fulfill you." Materialism works for a time. But after you buy something the thrill of buying it vanishes, and you want to buy something else. Spirituality can give you a great big high. But there's always a comedown.

Buddhism doesn't promise to fulfill our desires. Instead it says, "You feel unfulfilled? That's okay. That's normal. Everybody feels unfulfilled. You will always feel unfulfilled. There is no problem with feeling unfulfilled. In fact, if you learn to see it the right way, that very lack of fulfillment is the greatest thing you can ever experience." This is the realistic outlook.

So what am I trying to say? Well, I walked into an herb shop today out of curiosity. The woman at the cash register asked what ailed me. When I told her I was generally healthy she said she I was no fun, then, and she wouldn't be able to help me out much. I bought a book on cooking with stevia and we chatted a bit about all the health food modalities out there. She said in her 20 years in the business she's seen that the happiest people are those who are flexible in their approach. Those who form rigid identities around being raw foodists or vegans or whatever have the more difficult go at well being. Once again, coming from the lips of one of many buddhas out there, "The Middle Way."

I'll be perfectly honest with you and admit that I don't always know what the middle way is. I don't know if I'm latching on to this in the hope it will fulfill my desires. I enjoy the idea that it makes me a little less holier than thou. I'm not about to join any sect, though I do feel inclined to try a little more sitting practice and look a little closer at the sitting I do in yoga. I can let myself feel unfulfilled without rushing to try to plug the hole and just see what that's like. I can nod at the desires and longings that bubble to the surface and let them be what they are. It's worth a try. I'll let you know how it goes.