“We are inconceivably, simultaneously one and different.”
—The great Indian sage Caitanya (and also on a pillow of mine in the front room)

This post is only for committed spiritual nerds or those who have a passion for what the Vedas call jnana (knowledge). If that’s not your bag, don’t worry about it.

If it is, I’ll begin here: It is a truism that a huge aspect of Eastern philosophy and spirituality speaks of a non-dual conclusion to the spiritual journey. In short, that ultimately all is One (or empty, according to most Buddhist paths) and there are no distinctions, no forms, and all of this before us is false (mithya), or an illusion.

This idea for me, however, never explains why this incredible, compelling, beautiful ‘illusion’ arises—or why individuality arises.

Indeed, by definition, it can’t answer this question.

Nonetheless, one theory by the brilliant and prolific philosopher Ken Wilber, if I understand what he’s saying, is that non-duality (emptiness) is the ultimate conclusion, the ultimate truth, we are ultimately God (or Big Mind), and all of this we see before us and within us arose because “God was bored.”

A few of Ken’s wonderful friends (Genpo Roshi etc) and even Hegal with a twist has said sort of the same thing.

May I first begin in humility and a profound awareness of how little I know.

Having said that, for me, the fact that anything—you, me, all of this— arose at all is already a huge crimp in the non-dual ultimate reality (as opposed to a non-dual experience, of which almost all mystic paths speak).

Anyway, this ‘God was bored” idea is so sadly lacking to me that I felt inspired to write Ken a non-dual love poem, because I’m in love with him. That’s right, Wilber-1, Wilber-2, all the way up to Wilber-whatever, like ascending turtles.

It’s true, it’s out, so there. Ken fills my Spectrum of Consciousness—which is arguably not very big. Okay, I’m being a little silly, but here it is:

POEM TO KEN WILBER

Oh you who preach there is not other
I ask you why you have a lover
When you speak of non-duality
I ask you why individuality
arose at all, and you state your case:
“God was bored” in a boring place
which maims your bored ‘non-dual’ conclusion
for non-dual boredom is pure confusion
and if God was bored and that’s your case
why on Earth do you seek that place?
If God was bored and Thou Art That
why is That where liberation’s at?
And with this paradox you face
why teach to seek this boring place?
If God left home to seek some fun
why go back to where there’s none?
For you yourself described it so
so tell us what you really know
If with words you’re only playing
then what exactly are you saying?
If ‘non-dual’ is your loyalty
why collect a royalty?
For if all distinctions are delusion
who’s the ‘you’ in this confusion?
And if they’re not, then what’s denied
is that ‘non-duality’ must be qualified
Ken Wilber, look into my eyes
Why did beauty here arise?
What fear is it, what sad confusion
leads us to this bored conclusion?
For if one is God and two is bored
‘tis more than non-dual can afford
What I see here is contradiction
not spiritual but predilection
Perhaps my own, but who can say?
For we all live in a distinctive way
And I wonder if, like all of us
people caused you such painful stuff
Let you down, like Adi Da
to which we now go la-dee-da
Yet deep inside we’re mad at matter
in subtle ways mad-as-a-hatter
Mad in fact because personhood
was a bully in the neighbourhood
So never a Person now can we see
greater than the folks we be
So instead of surrender to something greater
we make ourselves the Grand Creator
As a spark, perhaps, we’re identical
but God knows I’m not God-in-Full
to say I’m God, unqualified
just medicates the pain I hide
Disassociation need not happen
To be blind upon the path we’re mappin’
Are we truly God, as you tell us
or could it be we’re all just jealous?
Even while lost in samadhi
To say we’re God is insanity
Look, either way, this much is true
God and boredom are clearly two
And it’s not even remotely wise
as an answer to why we did arise
Yes, non-duality may exist
but purely as a Brahman twist
an aspect of the total This
a taste amongst the feast of bliss
And let me say it all the same
I’m so grateful for your massive brain
but for all the teachings that you master
“God was bored” is pure disaster

At this point, it would be grossly remiss and non-dual of me to not say that much of the argument and learning in this poem has been inspired through the teachings of a remarkable Vedic scholar and practitioner, Jeffrey Armstrong—who also has one helluva massive brain.

I can only say, Ken, if I was you, I would avoid this fella in one-on-one conversation, unless embrace and transcend is what you truly want.

For a terrific and inspired article and explanation of the differences between the ideas of the Vedic non-dualist path (led by Shankaracharya) and the distinctivist teaching of the woefully (in the West) ignored Madhvacharya, I really encourage you wonderful seekers out there to read Jeffrey’s article in Hinduism Today, entitled: “Difference is Real: The Life and Teachings of Sri Madhva, One of India’s greatest Spiritual Masters”.

The lower half of the article is Jeffrey discussing Madhva’s philosophy, the upper half Madhva’s biography. You have to sign into the magazine (which is free) to read the current issue.

Of course, if you are God, no doubt you’ve already read it. Hell, you wrote it.

If not, an excerpt from Jeffrey’s article:

“While Madhva’s Dvaita philosophy has been construed as dualism, it, in fact, articulates a view of multiple realities that all have particular natures and are all real.

Madhva’s view is not dualistic, because he did not limit existence to two realities, pitted against one another, but rather described how the various categories of reality are eternally real.

To him, the differences between things are not mere illusions to be denied outright, but rather are a gradient of different types of existence amongst which the eternal souls, who are distinctive individuals, are allowed to choose…

The point of dispute is not whether the material world is a desirable place of residence for the soul, as Madhva and Shankara agree that liberating the soul from matter is the goal of Vedanta.

Where they diverge sharply is on the nature of the soul.

To Shankara, there is actually only one atma, or soul, in the whole of existence, and that great soul is called Brahman.

Due to inexpicable ignorance [hence, my poem], that one soul imagines itself (and thus appears) to be many.

To Madhva, souls are multiple and eternally individual, real and distinct from Brahman, and at the same time one with it in essence…

And here, from the article, are a few great questions that you might want to pose to your spiritual teacher.

In assailing Shankara’s position, Madhva queries: If Brahman is the Supreme, how could there be a greater power that could put it under illusion?

If Brahman has no parts, how can there be a Brahman that is both liberated and not liberated?

If there is no liberated Brahman, how could liberation be possible?

If the world is merely a dream, since many dreams are seen in the world, whose dream is it?

How could someone teach of the non-distinctive Brahman if he did not recognize the need to teach it, which is in itself a distinction?”

These questions remain woefully unanswered, to my little mind. Give me another fifty lifetimes of meditation and nutritional supplements, and I might have some realized knowledge.

Interestingly and ironically, the second to last point of Madhva—”If the world is merely a dream, since many dreams are seen in the world, whose dream is it?”—is echoed by Ken Wilber here:

QUESTION: What do you think of the New Age writers who see a link between mysticism and the weirdness of quantum physics?…They point out that reality at the quantum level is inherently probabilistic. And they say that the act of observing a quantum phenomenon plays a critical role in actually creating that phenomenon. The lesson they draw is that consciousness itself can shape physical reality.

KEN WILBER: They are confused. Even people like Deepak Chopra say this. These are good people; I know them. But when they say consciousness can act to create matter, whose consciousness? Yours or mine? They never get to that. It’s a very narcissistic view.

Indeed. How about ‘I am God’ for narcissism? or “God was bored”?

A variation of Ken’s “God was bored” theme is Ken’s (and friend’s): “It’s no fun having dinner alone” idea. The (perhaps) unintentional massacre of non-duality is hopelessly exposed—thank god, because I love love, I love loving, I love eating with friends and, like I said, I’m in love with Ken Wilber.

Love takes two at the very least. Even if he never calls back, I can long like a gopi—and dammit, I will.

Further, even if Ken is being tongue-in-cheek, which on one level he clearly is, the question still seems to me to be grossly unanswered, with non-duality as the final conclusion hoisted precariously upon this hopeless answer.

We have all heard about the Emperor who wears no clothes. Here, the non-dual ultimate conclusion is dressed to the nines, and claims to be naked.

An excerpt:

Pathways [magazine]: Why does Spirit bother to manifest at all, especially when that manifestation is necessarily painful and requires that It become amnesiac to Its true identity? Why does God incarnate?

Ken Wilber:

I have actually asked this same question of several spiritual teachers, and one of them gave a quick, classic answer:”It’s no fun having dinner alone.”

That’s sort of flip or flippant, I suppose, but the more you think about it, the more it starts to make sense. What if, just for the fun of it, we pretend—you and I—blasphemously pretend, just for a moment—that we are Spirit, that Tat Tvam Asi? Why would you, if you were God Almighty, why would you manifest a world? A world that, as you say, is necessarily one of separation and turmoil and pain? Why would you, as the One, ever give rise to the Many?

Pathways: It’s no fun having dinner alone?

Ken Wilber: Doesn’t that start to make sense?

Even if it did, so much for non-dual as the ultimate, ultimate, ultimate conclusion. One of the paths, sure. But clearly not the most fun path.

A longer bit is here:

And a song for how beautiful and mysterious we are, yes, as individuals and as a whole: Wide Open.

My apologies for where my own ignorance reigns.

Big love to Ken, Jeffrey, Madhva, Shankara, and all the rest of us in the search for who we are and who we might be,

Pete xox

No time for essays or much else these days, between writing and editing and so on. But in the cracks of my momentum, little side-dishes arise, and I happened to write a couple of poems—and yesterday in record time, a little song came out called, I think, In My Mind.

Anyway, here are the two poems. And if the whole world could do me a favour and write to say they are doing well, or better, or just feeling good about their own beautiful, remarkable, indescribable beingness (can you fathom what a being can do?), I would exalt in that.

EVERYTHING ABOUT HER

Everything about her speaks of my impenetrable longing
I am too-not-young to be fooled by such pristine joy
And yet I am the old fool
believing this body cannot be fooled at any glance
by the beautiful scalpel of existence
fragmented diamonds upon my breath
awakening the ports of my desire
trading trinkets that only God owns
A river of life propels through my bones
where energy is a square emcee
An evolutionary picture show
raises and lowers threadbare curtains
casting shadows and dreams in major roles
according to the length of my inhale
the mind
best friend, worst enemy
There is nothing I can do
but believe in something
Someone must be served
What river will I follow?

And the other:

VOICES

My desire to please you
into joy
leads me more clearly
than the light of the morning sun
The desire of my being
towards whom I might be
calls me more loudly than anything
yet less clearly
How can I know
where the two meet
or separate?

Love and more love—and creative flow, and remembering whatever beautiful remembrance it is that you have to remember,

Pete xoxo

Just in the middle of Muhammad Ali research and at the same time trying to grasp further the complexities of how agribusiness is controlling our food, worldwide and brutally, and wondering if Hillary Clinton is in Agribusiness’ backpocket, life tears open a contracted thought, and reminds me how serendipitous a series of events might be—or might not be.

Either way, I just got an email from my friend Marina with a note to watch a video that she found both moving and inspiring, and far above the limited-consciousness bandwidth of political lobbying.

What’s more, as I watched it—while doing situps to limber the old back and core muscles—I thought, ‘Hm, I’ve just been writing on my last three blogs about this exact subject: asking what we might be—who are we?—and the mysterious nature of being—between an expanded us and contracted us.’

Interestingly, the yogis have spoken about these wondrous themes for thousands of years—musings most scientists don’t admit have been spoken of, let alone do they agree with them.

But here’s a question: is it because of those ancient (and present) descriptions of consciousness and oneness and what we might be, already being “out there”, from yogis, that Dr Jill Bolte Taylor voices her experience of having a stroke as she did in similar terms of oneness etc., or are wereally this combined force of contracted and, ultimately, expanded individuality?

In other words, are we—as the yogis suggest—much more and expanded than we think we are?

Of course I don’t know—and this morning I’m pretty darn stiff (so I’m contracted, evidently).

But, mm-mm-mm it’s beautiful food for thought.

Here are three short clips from the last three blogs that are so related to what she’s talking about—which isn’t so surprising, because it’s what I think about a lot:

The rest of the poems are here.

Then this short blog here, about the relationship between an expansive Redwood and a tear drop of devotion, called Three Hundred and Fifty Feet High:

And then an excerpt from this essay called Me And God Down By The Schoolyard:

The miraculous marriage of individuality and oneness is the ongoing tension that is life—the unstoppable force arising from the scientific predictability of entropy and the utter mystery of the organization that led to us. Organization makes no sense whatsoever in an expanding universe, or in my upstairs office. Yet here we are.

The fact is we are individual beings—inconceivably being—mysteriously piercing the material world with a series of unanswerable questions and disconcerting twitches.

Temporary? Yes, we appear to be—but who knows? And who knows for how long? And who knows why?

We may even be fragments of some utterly transcendent divine being who possesses an intelligence even slightly greater than Richard Dawkins’. That would be terrific, because I really enjoy being, and given my druthers, I’d rather it continued, minus the entropy and taxes.

Deluded? Perhaps. An illusion? Sure I’ve got some sleight-of-hand tricks up my sleeve, but who doesn’t?

But am I God? Well, not as far as I know. Then again, as any nondualist worth her illusory self will tell you:

“He who knows, knows nothing; and he who knows nothing, is unemployed.”

Full essay here.

Oh, and now here’s the 18 minute talk from Jill Bolte Taylor, a brain scientist who had a stroke, and lived to explain what she experienced. Take what you need, and exhale the rest into to that great mystery in the sky, and in your heart…

You are getting sleepy, very sleepy…

With great expansive gobs (gobs in the sweet sense) of gratitude, and a means of getting through the contracted troubles (and joys) of the day—love more!

Pete xoxox

Oh, and these musings are why I wrote Wide Open.

I was just thinking today—as most days—about how, when I’m writing intensely about the material world (in this case the legendary Muhammad Ali and those who did battle with him, and what it all meant), it’s so important for me to keep a spiritual/expansive/relaxed yet discerning outlook on everything that’s going on within and around me. Smile, in other words, right now.

Why? Because the mind (manas) is so addicted to the world, and the world is so addicting, so compelling, so consuming. And the less I pull back and go inwards, the more I spin wildly with my addiction—to knowledge, to information, to typing frantically like a squirrel on amphetamines (running across a keyboard).

What exactly we are I can not say with any so-called realized knowledge. Still, the emotion that arises from wondering, exploring, or associating with myself, my breathing, and with those great teachers and thinkers who have a wide, even beyond-worldcentric view of existence, remains for me a massive pleasure and gift.

If you know what I mean, you’ll know what I mean (if you know what I mean). If you don’t, there are a whole bunch of earlier blogs that could be more up your alley.

Either way, last night, after days of intense writing and research, and trying to find a beautiful, expansive way of approaching this new work, I went to my favourite philosophy of yoga (and Vedanta) class and, while listening, spontaneously scribbled down a few verses about this temporary, mysterious journey we call existence.

Or as Leibniz put it:

Why is there something instead of nothing?

And why personhood? Why individual beings? Why relationship?

REMEMBERING POETRY

Anyway, seeing as I’ve been unable to blog for awhile, due to time constraints (and I’m such a wordy fella), I thought I’d share them with you.

Ali, ever more Sufi-centric, it seems, as his years go on, might be pleased. May they give you pause to breathe deeply, and remember the inconceivable miracle of existence (you, in other words).

If not, may you just think, “What a deluded freak, ha ha ha. PS Get a job.”

More importantly, may you write a few dreams yourself, whenever you feel it.

Lots of love to you,

Pete