It's January 2013. Millions of apocalyptic entries on Google said the world would end in
December of 2012. It didn't happen. I never thought anything
catastrophic would occur. Geological changes move at a glacial pace
and the end of the Mayan calendar wasn't going to alter that fact.
Changes in human consciousness though can come about more frequently.
So hedging my bets, I prepared for whatever was going to happen.
I
spent most of 2012 reviewing the teachings of the great enlightened
souls I'd encountered over the past forty years. Looking for new
insights, I re-read some of their most inspirational books. I took
several months off for international travel. I went to the Middle East
on a peace pilgrimage. There, amid centuries old hatreds between the
three major religions on earth and the politics stifling easy discourse,
an elderly Rabbi passionately assured me that peace would prevail on
earth if there was peace in Jerusalem. I believed him. During a month
long visit to India I was uplifted by the people and the spiritual
depth of this ancient culture. Inbred into the fabric of their daily
lives, it flourished in their beliefs and behavior. Yet, I was stunned
at the country's gross ambivalence towards poverty, clean water, and the
lack of sanitation.
After
all of that it was ten days in solitude in the swamps of southeastern
Georgia, that gave me the answers I was looking for. It was the most
intense retreat I've ever gone to. The facilities were Spartan.
Attendees pledged to a vow of silence, two vegetarian meals per day, not
to kill any sentient being, not to steal, and promised not to leave the
program before it was over. At 4 am every day a gong woke us for
meditation. Other than the two meal breaks and an hour for meetings
with the instructor, we sat in meditation twelve hours a day. Lights
were turned off at 9 pm. On day four and day six I was ready to leave.
But having surrendered all my electronics and the car keys upon
arrival, not to mention I'd taken a vow, I determined to stick it out.
This
requirement is a wise move on the part of the program. Staying is the
best decision. In those ten extraordinary days I learned deep
meditation techniques. I mastered the meaning of following the breath
for countless hours. I grasped how talking takes one out of the inner
world of contemplation. I saw how much mental and physical deprivation I
could endure. I realized I could sit for hours without moving. I
could even sit next to a scorpion watching dispassionately without
flinching.
The
most exceptional lesson I brought back from this retreat was an
instinctual understanding that change is the nature of all existence.
It is the constancy in our existence. It is inherent in our lives. It
is in everything we do, and in every situation we encounter. Nothing is
permanent in this universe. All things are coming into existence or
going out of existence. Everything is birthing and dying, arising and
falling, always changing. When that realization sunk in on day seven,
it shattered my habitual ways of seeing the world.
Concepts
of good and bad, who was right or wrong, disappeared. Thoughts,
whether the casual monkey-mind thoughts or intense creative thoughts,
come and go. Beliefs and perceptions lessen their grip in the awareness
that all that we view as "real" is rising and falling. The transitory
nature of the situations and dramas we create in our lives could be
governed with the knowing that "this too shall pass." Applying that
lesson to Israel, to India, to 2012 and now 2013 made all of those
beliefs and experiences, understandable and easier to deal with. It
also started the next leg of the journey. Now What?
It's
a huge question post-2012. Many are asking the same thing. For me,
after forty years of studies, seminars, and training, I ask, Now What?
After trekking all over the world, Now What? After absorbing esoteric
teachings from countless mystical paths, Now What? If everything is
transient how do you live your life? Toss it all overboard or live with
conscious purpose?
The
"What" turned out to be fairly easy. It's easier to live in happiness
than in sadness, and if it's all arising and falling anyway, why not
choose happiness. I heard the Dalai Lama speak about kindness a few
years ago. He said, "This is my simple religion. There is no need
for temples. No need for complicated philosophy. Our own brain, our
own heart is the temple. The philosophy is kindness and compassion."
He also said it's easier to sleep with that type of inner peace. So
with the Dalai Lama's words echoing I choose to live with that purpose.
To be kind and loving; to live with joy; to live with purpose; to live
with conscience; and to remember, this too shall pass.
And while I'm at it, continue daily meditation, do Yoga and eat more broccoli. That's Now What!
Jo Mooy - January 2013