Church of the Churchless

Wu or Mu? I talk with a cow fancier.

Two days into the Wu Project, I’m right on track. Of course, the great thing about this project is that there’s no way I can be off track. Since the root meaning of Wu is negation, you’re most Wuish when you’re doing the least.

Such is the essence of wu wei, a Taoist term that can be roughly translated as “effortless action.” Wei means to do or act. Stick “wu” in front of it and you’ve got not-doing. Or better put, doing without doing.

So I’ll be taking it slow and gentle with this Wu Project of mine. Which, I need to emphasize, is truly mine. I’m not putting it forth as a model for anyone else, though I do believe that everyone should have a Cosmic Project of some sort—a quixotic crazy doomed-to-failure attempt to fathom the deepest mysteries of the universe.

I’ve decided that for now mine is the Wu Project. Yours could be whatever you want it to be. I’d recommend that you fashion your own unique project, because life is too short and singular to spend it copying someone else. But it’s a free cosmos. If you choose an off the shelf project such as Christianity, Islam, Buddhism, Judaism, or any other organized “ism,” have at it. With enthusiasm.

I will admit to having some grandiose conceptions about the Wu Project, however. I’m prone to grandiosity, so that figures. I’ve been pondering this whole Secret of the Universe thing for about forty years and am finally making some significant progress. I’ve reduced the complexity of the subject down to a “there are two kinds of…” simplicity.

To wit, there are two kinds of approaches to unraveling the Secret of the Universe: positive and negative. This isn’t an original idea (what is?). Mysticism is commonly divided into the via affirmativa and via negativa, the way of fullness and the way of emptiness.

Some people want to be filled with a divine vision, belief, concept, love, being, insight, inspiration, presence, or such. Other people want to be emptied of everything, including all that supposedly divine stuff. I’m with them. It’s equally wildly crazy and totally logical.

But I’m digressing from my intention to report on how the first two public wearings of my Wu t-shirt went. I wore it to my Tai Chi class on Monday and today, where I expected it would have an appreciative audience. Indeed, two people asked about the shirt: my marital arts instructor, Warren, and a fellow student, Russell.

Russell didn’t know what the Chinese hanzi for “Wu” meant. Warren did. My conversation with Russell was more satisfying because he uncritically accepted my definition. I like it when people agree with me.

I also like it when people disagree with me, because then I have an opportunity to show them why I’m right and they are wrong (which, I usually presume, must be the case). However, it is unsettling when someone neither agrees or disagrees with me. I can’t say that I dislike it, because there isn’t anything not to like. Nor, to like.

Such a situation is, in short, Wuish. And that’s how Warren acted after I replied to his question: “So, Brian, what do you think your t-shirt means?” I launched into a wonderfully focused description of the alternative meanings of “wu” (“mu” in Japanese). I was concise and utterly accurate, in my not-so-humble opinion.

Warren then walked over to a bench, sat down and said, “Well, OK. If that’s what you think…” I waited for him to say something more. He didn’t. And then he didn’t some more. I waited for him to tell me what he thought “wu/mu” meant. I wanted to know.

Warren has spent a lot of time in the East (Korea and Japan, mainly). He’s married to a Japanese woman. He teaches a class in Eastern Medicine at a college. He’s Taoist through and through. “Come on, man,” I thought, “give me the answer.”

He wouldn’t. He just sat on the bench staring off into space. I recollected that some dude supposedly cut off his arm in order to be accepted by a Zen master, so I figured that I could at least ask one more time. “I want to know. What do you think it means, Warren?”

“Emptiness. You have to be empty before you can be filled.”

Good answer. We talked some more about wu/mu. Warren suggested that my next t-shirt should have the Mu/Wu ideogram on the front and a picture of a cow on the back. That way if someone asked what the image meant I’d say “mu” and turn around.

Nice. I’ll keep the idea in mind. But the main idea of the Wu Project is not to have ideas in mind. However, since “wu” means negation it should also be fine to not not have ideas in mind, which lets them back in.

I’ve got a lot to do if I’m going to figure all this stuff out before the project ends. Also, a lot not to do.

The Wu Project

I’ve decided that it’s time for me to formally kick off the Wu Project. First, I need to point out a few things that the Wu Project is not. It doesn’t have anything to do with an Oregon congressman. Nor, with a well-known rap group.

We’re talking here about the real Wu. Which, because it signifies nothing, is pretty darn hard to say anything about. Nonetheless, I’m drawn to try. And even more perhaps: to be.

It’s a dream of mine. To be Wu. Not the Chinese character. Not the various Wu-associations Wikipedia talks about. Something else. What remains when all the somethings that I’m not are negated and just the nothing that I may be remains.

“May be” is the operative word here. There are no guarantees with Wu. It’s the ultimate mystery. You can’t rely on it for anything, because there is no thing there. Or so they say. And I tend to believe them.

I’m not sure where the Wu Project is heading. It’s just something that I feel drawn to set out on. Over the years I’ve been inspired by the “they’s” and “them’s” alluded to in the paragraph above. But more inspiration isn’t what I’m after now, either as a consumer or a disseminator.

Again, it’s something else. Can’t really put my finger on it. How could I? Wu is untouchable. Yet not unsayable. More accurately, you can do word-dances all around Wu. The subject is so deep, the dancing never stops. Until, it does.

My first big executive decision concerning the Wu Project was what to name it. English doesn’t have a suitable word in its vocabulary. So I had the Chinese “Wu” and Japanese “Mu” to choose between.

Wu it is. I resonate more with Chinese philosophy and culture. I’m a student of Tai Chi and settle into the Wu Chi posture many times each class. Plus, I don’t want to think of a cow when I’m contemplating the absence of something.

My next move was obvious. A project needs a t-shirt. I made one through CaféPress. It’s being modeled by the panther who lives in my office.

A project name. A project t-shirt. A new weblog category. I’m ready to roll. Let’s see where Wu and I wander off to.

German translation reflects my transformation

My first book, “God’s Whisper, Creation’s Thunder,” is back in print, albeit in another language. As I noted on my other blog yesterday, New Zealander Matthias Schneider-Marfels, a.k.a. Matt, translated my revision of the book into German.

We’ve managed to publish it through my own imprint, Adrasteia Publishing, and it’s now available on Amazon USA and Amazon Germany. Matt and I put a lot of work into the book. It’s satisfying to see it in print for several reasons, not least of which is that “Wenn Gott flüstert, donnert es in der Schöpfung” is a reflection of transformations I’ve been experiencing.

Compared to the original, this book is shorter, simpler, and less preachy. So am I now, which I’m glad about, though as I said in “Oh God, I’m shrinking!” I could do without the shorter bit.

A few years ago I decided to rewrite “God’s Whisper, Creation’s Thunder” because I could barely stand to read some parts of it. During the ten years since it was published by Threshold Books I’ve become more skeptical of the claim that some people have attained the status of being God in Human Form, or GIHF.

There may be GIHFs around. There may not. I don’t know. I do know that I’m not a GIHF, or it wouldn’t have taken me so long to find the Thai food leftovers in the refrigerator half an hour ago. And I’m not aware of any solid evidence that anyone else has a legitimate claim to the title of God in Human Form either.

So I took out all mention of “perfect masters” (or gurus). I put more emphasis on how the experiment of contemplative meditation can be used to test the hypothesis that the essence of us, consciousness, also is the essence of the cosmos. This makes scientific sense, since science theorizes that unity is a hallmark of ultimate reality. One Theory of Everything is being sought, not several.

Matt told me that he missed some of the material that I took out of the book. I’m sure other fans of the original will too if they read the revision (the English version of which I’m planning to publish fairly soon). I hewed pretty much to the Radha Soami Satsang Beas party line at the time I wrote “God’s Whisper, Creation’s Thunder” and that came through in some over-the-top preachiness.

I still firmly believe in the potential of meditation as a means of exploring whatever domains of consciousness may lie beyond our current everyday experience of waking, dreaming, and deep sleep. To my mind mysticism truly can be a spiritual science if it is purged of religious elements.

I’ve been similarly trying to purge my own spiritual practice of religious ritual, dogma, and blind faith. I hope that one day I’m able to fully practice what I preach (in a low-key scientific sense) in “Wenn Gott flüstert, donnert es in der Schöpfung.”

Religion should make us more humane, not less

It strikes me as strange that ardent religious devotees often act in ways that are less humane, caring, and loving than a regular person you’d meet on the street. The Mohammed cartoon riots are a good example of this, since normally people don’t kill or pillage if someone offends them.

So if an action wouldn’t be acceptable in everyday life, it certainly shouldn’t be acceptable in the name of religion. Spirituality should make us better human beings, not worse. Unfortunately, often the reverse is true.

I heartily agree with these comments by Valerie about a religion I’m well acquainted with, Radha Soami Satsang Beas (RSSB). Valerie and I were initiated into RSSB at the same time way back in 1971. She and I have arrived at a similar skepticism about whether years or decades of spiritual practice as instructed by the RSSB gurus lead initiates to become more humane humans.

Which includes the guru himself. Valerie points out how ridiculous are the unannounced visits by the present RSSB master, Gurinder Singh Dhillon. Initiates living a thousand miles away from a center where Gurinder Singh is to speak the next morning will get word of his visit the day before.

How humane is that? Normally, would anyone consider that putting people through so much last-minute inconvenience is a courteous thing to do? Yet when a guru does it, devotees say among themselves, “Ah, how mysterious are the master’s ways.” Well, another word to describe those ways would be “rude.”

Even when I used to attend talks by the guru, I didn’t like many of the rigid rules attendees were supposed to abide by. Be in your seat half an hour early. No talking while you’re waiting. No photographs of the guru allowed. Can’t take notes while the guru is talking. No cell phones allowed in the meeting room.

When I was still an approved RSSB speaker, before I was fired, I spoke to a large gathering at the center in Petaluma, California. Even at this guru-less meeting they were collecting cell phones at the door. The first day I dutifully surrendered my cell phone. The next day I thought, “This is ridiculous. I’ll just turn it off and keep it.”

No lightning bolts hit me. I felt fine. No moral qualms. Manmade rules are just manmade rules. They have no spiritual significance. I’m confident that whatever higher realities may exist apart from our sensible space and time don’t require that cell phones be checked at the door and note pads be kept in the pocket.

Today neuralsurfer addressed this subject. He’s talking about Gurinder Singh’s edict about not discussing the RSSB teachings on the Internet.

If George Bush sent out a memo saying that all Americans should not talk about his policies on the net, nor should they discuss the government on the net, I would imagine that he would be regarded not only as a control freak par excellence but a nutcase.

Why is it that we expect MORE from our politicians than our spiritual leaders?

More precisely, why is it that our critical faculties melt when it comes to gurus and their weird missives?

Excellent questions. I’d love to hear some possible answers.

Trust your gut, not your thought

How do you decide what to do in a complex situation where there are lots of variables to consider, such as buying a car? Researchers have found that the conscious thinking brain is better for making simple decisions, but the unconscious intuitive brain does a better job with complex decisions.

We can think our way through a cost comparison of which toilet paper brand is a better deal. However, trusting your intuition—“this feels right”—is the way to go when you’ve got to weigh many pieces of information.

Makes sense to me. This is pretty much how my mind works. When I need to buy a new computer or car, I always surf the Internet and peruse my back copies of Consumer Reports until I’m awash in facts. It’s always hard to decide what brand I should get. The way is never clear. Until, it is.

One day I wake up and bingo!, an Emachines computer or Toyota car just seems absolutely right to me. I can’t explain why, though I can give reasons why. I can make the reasons add up to a decision, but it feels like the decision came first. Which, given the above-mentioned research, is the way it should be.

So when it comes to choosing a particular religion, or not choosing one at all, don’t try to figure out what to do. Just wait until the doing happens by itself. Trust your gut. You always will be able to find reasons why you should stick with your current belief system or jump ship to a new philosophical vessel.

Analysis paralysis will drown you. If it feels right, do it. Whatever it is. Leaving a religious group that doesn’t feel right to you. Joining a religious group that does. Finding your own independent way. Saying “who the ____ knows?!” and remaining resolutely agnostically uncertain. Whatever.

Just do it.

Not impulsively, though. Intuition is different from impulse. A gut feeling you can trust comes from the unconscious mind sorting through lots of accumulated information in a way that the conscious mind isn’t capable of. But if there’s no information to sort, the unconscious is flying blind.

While I haven’t read Malcolm Gladwell’s book “Blink: The Power of Thinking Without Thinking,” this review, “It Pays to Trust Your Gut,” shows that Gladwell makes a similar distinction between bad and good snap decisions. It all depends on what goes into the snap! An inexperienced cop quickly pulls out his gun and kills an innocent guy. In the same situation an experienced cop instantly decides not to pull the trigger, making the right choice.

When it comes to spirituality, I feel that most of the readers of this post already have plenty of information in their psyches. You wouldn’t have found your way to the Church of the Churchless if you weren’t pretty darn sophisticated about metaphysical matters. You’ve read a lot, thought a lot, talked a lot, pondered a lot.

Now—and I’m speaking here as much to myself as to you—it’s time to do it. You and I know what we have to do. We just need to trust our guts and take the plunge into whatever waters it feels right to swim in.

Unusual churches. We’re one of them!

Today I stumbled onto Unusual Churches, which just added this here Church of the Churchless to its list of “weird, wacky, and funny churches one can find on the Internet.”

Hey! We’re not weird, wacky, or funny (well, maybe a little). This blog makes perfect sense, and to back that statement up I have endorsements on file from some wise people who know what they’re talking about. Namely, Me, Myself, and I.

I took a look at some of the many unusual churches listed on the site’s sidebar. I trusted that God was guiding my mouse-clicking and would lead me to sites I needed for my further spiritual evolution.

My first stop was The Church of the Gerbil. I must have needed a good laugh, because I was spellbound by The Satanic Hampster Dance. Realizing that the Great God Gerbil is to be worshipped, rather than understood, I brushed aside several questions: (1) Aren’t these things “hamsters,” not “hampsters”? and (2) Aren’t hamsters/hampsters different from gerbils?

[Note: The Satanic Hampster Dance is not to be confused with The Original Hampster Dance, even though it bears an uncanny resemblance to it and, predictably, stimulated a threat of legal action. Oh, why can’t Satanic Ham(p)sters and Original Ham(p)sters get along? We’re all the same under the skin, even if the skin of some of us is dripping blood and emblazoned with satanic symbols.]

Other unusual churches that caught my attention, if only for a nanosecond, were:
The Kick Ass, Post Apocalyptic, Doomsday Cult of Love
The Virtual Temple of the Invisible Pink Unicorn
Virtual Church of the Blind Chihuahua
Churchlite: A Church Without God
Jesus is my Red Pill
Church of Universal Eclectic Wicca

Last and most certainly least:
The Temple of George W. Bush
(which links to the wonderful Dear Leader’s Daily Thought)

A friendly critique of the Universist Movement

Last night CNN’s “Anderson Cooper 360” featured a story on Universism, a faithless movement that calls itself a religion. Well, it is, sort of. CNN termed it the “Seinfeld of religion” because Universism believes in nothing.

I’ve started a Universist group here in Salem and have corresponded quite a bit with Ford Vox, the movement’s founder. The CNN story spurred me to expand upon a friendly critique of Universism that began with “Herding cats, Universism’s challenge.”

A transcript of the CNN story can be found as a continuation to this post (I cleaned up the initial rough transcript by comparing it with my recording of the program). What you can’t see from a transcript is the setting of the Universist meeting in Alabama that was filmed by the CNN crew.

To my mind it reflected one of the central problems I have with the Universist Movement: for a philosophy that believes in nothing, it is overly centered on the beliefs of Ford Vox and other core organizers. Ford is shown standing at a podium with a microphone, addressing an audience who, when they talk, seem to be speaking to him, not to each other.

This isn’t the way our Salem group operates. When we get together, it’s a freeform discussion all the way. Now, I realize that a national organization needs to have leaders who speak for the group. But I’d suggest that the Universist leaders should act in accord with my pithy summary of Universism:

I don’t know anything about God or ultimate reality.
Neither do you.
So let’s get together and share our not-knowingness.

By contrast, the official Universist creed is much more involved. It includes lots of confident statements about morality, science, religion, truth, and the like that belie the uncertainty that is supposed to be the hallmark of Universism. This contradiction came out in the CNN story.

Ford Vox says, “The idea is that there is no external truth, that there is no objective truth that we should all strive to adhere to. Rather, there is an ongoing, continuing search for truth.” And in explaining why Universism is against faith, one of the movement’s “theologians,” John Armstrong, says “Faith basically we define as letting other people think for you.”

OK. But then shouldn’t Universism be devoid of truths that members seemingly are supposed to accept? Why can’t Universists simply congregate around the banner of not-knowing? What reason is there for any central creed of Universism other than, we’re all clueless when it comes to God, spirituality, and metaphysics.

My impression is that Ford Vox, whom I admire and respect, has come to some profound personal realizations about what life is all about. That’s great. However, those are his realizations. Not mine. Not yours. His. They shouldn’t be the foundation of a movement that says every person has to find his or her own meaning, and that nothing should be accepted on faith.

Here’s another problem I have with Universism: it takes itself too seriously. All the humor in the CNN segment came from the reporter (Tom Foreman). Ford and John should have been the ones making fun of the Universist Movement, in line with another religion’s sage advice, “If you meet the Buddha on the road, kill him!”

Having been a publicist in another career incarnation, I know how tough it is to come up with witty responses when you’re nervously appearing on-camera. Still, I feel that Armstrong missed a chance after Foreman said to him, “Some people would say this religion already exists and it's called…college.”

Armstrong looked like a deer caught in the headlights when he should have laughed and said something like, “You’re absolutely right. Just without so much beer.” Or on a more serious note, “That’s true. Except in this religion nobody ever graduates; we’re all lifelong learners.”

Instead, he said after a considerable pause: “I had never thought of it that way before.” And Foreman ended the segment with, “Is it possible?”

I’m attracted to Zen and Taoism because neither philosophy gives a hoot about being dignified and respectable. Fools are the norm, particularly in Taoism. By contrast, traditional religions care a lot about looking like they have their act together.

Since Universism is all about not-knowing, uncertainty, and doing your own spiritual thing, it should project a light-hearted carefree air. But that didn’t come across in the CNN story.

The way I see it, Universism wants to wear a religious cloak and be known as a religion. It wants to have an official creed and ministers (plus a ring and T-shirts). Yet, as was emphasized last night, nothing is under the religious trappings.

So why put them on at all? Spiritual nakedness is fine with me.

Here’s the CNN transcript:

Rumi, love, and non-existence

It’s Valentine’s Day. Love is in the air. But at this moment my thoughts are on non-existence. Which, actually, isn’t far removed from love, according to Rumi. This 12th century Sufi mystic extols non-existence as the highest possible spiritual state, for it opens the door onto Oneness.

So since my previous two posts focused on the fear of not-existing after death (or before it), I decided to dig into Rumi for a much more positive perspective.

These quotes are from William Chittick’s wonderful book, “The Sufi Path of Love.” Chittick organizes Rumi’s outpouring of poetry and prose into clear thematic categories. He also offers his own summary of Rumi’s teachings on each subject.

I went through my phase of being Rumi-crazed before I evolved into my current churchless leaning. However, Rumi still speaks to me. Especially when he talks about non-existence.

What could be more churchless than this? In the non-existence of what we currently consider “existence” to be, there are no dogmas, no religions, no theologies, no gurus, no spiritual practices, no enlightenment, no salvation.

In short, no anything. Which leaves... Something? Nothing? That’s the big question. Here’s how Rumi approaches it:

Non-existence is an Ocean and the world foam. The Sea’s boiling brings the foam into existence. Iran and Turan are but two of its flecks. In this boiling, tell me, what is effort? Why do these patient men boast of their patience?

God has made nonexistence appear existent and respectable; He has made Existence appear in the guise of nonexistence. He has hidden the Sea and made the foam visible. He has concealed the Wind and shown you the dust.

The whole world has taken the wrong way, for they fear nonexistence, while it is their refuge.

The Absolute Being works in nonexistence—what but nonexistence is the workshop of the Maker of existence?

Return from existence to nonexistence! You are seeking the Lord and you belong to Him! Nonexistence is a place of income, flee it not! The existence of more and less is a place of expenditure. God’s workshop is nonexistence, so everything outside the workshop is worthless.

What do I know if I exist or not? But this much I do know, oh Beloved: When I exist I am nonexistent, and when I am nonexistent I exist!

Were your body’s existence to be naughted, then your soul would be exalted—after naughting is complete, you will be in but God’s Oneness.

For a lifetime you have made trial of your own existence. Once you must try out nonexistence!

The beloved said, “You have done all these things, but open your ears wide and listen well: You have not accomplished the root of the root of love and devotion—what you have done is the branches.” The lover said, “Tell me, what is that root.” She said, “To die and become nonexistent.”

Therefore be bewildered and distraught, nothing less, so that God’s help may come to you from before and behind. Once you have become bewildered, dizzy, and annihilated, then your spiritual state will say, “Lead us on the Straight Path!”

In this path, anything other than confusion and madness is distance and alienation from God.

Oh God, show to the spirit that station where speech grows up without words, so the pure spirit may fly toward the wide expanse of Nonexistence—an expanse exceedingly open and spacious, from which this imagination and existence find nourishment.

Images are narrower than Nonexistence—therefore imagination is the cause of heartache. Existence is still narrower than imagination—therefore within it full moons become crescents. The existence of the world of sense perception and colors is still narrower, for it is a cramped prison.

The cause of narrowness is composition and multiplicity, and the senses drag toward composition. Know that the World of Unity lies in the other direction from the senses. If you want Oneness, go in that direction!

More thoughts about the fear of non-existence

I really appreciate the comments on my “Death and the primal fear of non-existence” post. I still find the all-too-likely prospect of not-existing deeply disturbing. But it’s somewhat comforting to know that I’m not the only one who feels this way.

Over the years I’ve had many discussions with friends and family about what happens or doesn’t happen after death. Invariably I’ve expressed surprise when someone tells me, “I’m not afraid to die.” Or, “I’m ready to go.” I ask them, “So you wouldn’t mind if I pulled out a knife and slit your throat?”

“Oh, sure, I’d be scared if something like that happened,” they’ll say. “Then why did you say you’re not afraid to die?” I’ll reply. Methinks those who claim they’re up with death are speaking from their detached intellect, not their gut-honest heart.

Over on the Radha Soami Studies discussion group, David Lane (a.k.a. the Neural Surfer) said something interesting about my post: Brian Hines is happy. Most profound, Professor Lane, who wrote:

I really liked this post because it reveals (at least for me) that Brian Hines is relatively happy.

You see, long ago I had this abiding realization: When we deeply fear death, non-existence, etc., the corollary is that we are HAPPY... RELATIVELY so, but happy all the same.

In other words, fear of non-existence IS the natural shadow of a happy man or woman IN THIS existence.

Now where I worry a bit is when that fear of death or non-existence goes away (now I am not talking about theology or poses we may assume).... when one absolutely doesn't care if they are annihilated.

Why?

Because it indicates that they are relatively DONE with this world, or unhappy, or sad, etc..... In other words, no fear indicates something amiss..... something about a certain sadness, a certain it's over with.

I say all of this because we oftentimes think that our biggest fears say something about the universe in general, when in point of fact they say everything about our current state of being.

Which is another way of saying, a happy man HAS fears.

I think David is correct. I know he’s right about me being happy. I am. And that’s a big part of the reason why I am so afraid of not-existing for ever and ever after I die. What a cosmic joke it would be to live happily for eighty years, or whatever, and then fade into absolute nothingness for eternity.

Not that I’m complaining about getting a chance to live at all, Mr. or Ms. Cosmic Joker. Thanks for my life span, as miniscule as it is in comparison to the age of the cosmos. I just would like to feel that there is more congruity between what I’m happily experiencing now and what awaits me after my last breath.

One commenter described Bernadette Roberts’ struggle to integrate her experience of “no-self” with the emptiness and nothingness of existence. I’ve read a couple of her books and picked up “The Experience of No-Self” this morning to see how her existential terror compares with mine. Much of what she says rings true to me:

I decided that having no-self was as bad, if not worse, than having a self; because once beyond the self, man was just as likely to come across an unlivable nothingness as he was a marvelous, unnameable “something”—as I first seemed to do.

…That was the real question: if there is no self and no God, what then? I had just seen “what then” and couldn’t live with that either. There’s nothing blissful about sheer nothingness—even Sartre declared it nauseous…

…In a moment of bravado I decided it was time to have it out with whatever it was. I could not keep running from this thing all my life, I had to get it out in the open, face it head-on and deal with it, because I could no longer stand its continual lurking around every corner of my day.

…This thing I had to stare down was simply a composite of every connotation we have of “terror,” “dread,” “fear,” “insanity,” and things of this order. In a word, it was a mental, psychological killer.

…If there is any aspect of this journey I would stress or emphasize, it is the necessity of finally coming to terms with the void and nothingness of existence which, for me, seemed to be the equivalent of living out my life without God or any such substitute.

…At one point, the mind came upon the hideous void of life, the insidious nothingness of death and decay strangling life from every object of sight. Only self can escape such a vision because only self knows fear, and only fear can generate the weapons of defense. Without a self the only escape is no escape; the void must be faced, come what may.

Yes. It must. For me, the beginning (and perhaps also the end) of genuine spirituality is confronting the fear of non-existence head on. I’m getting tired of being afraid. It seems that I’m approaching the point where I’m more afraid of being afraid than of the original fear itself.

It’s hard to talk about this stuff. I appreciate the commenters who were willing to try. The best cinematic depiction of the primal fear I wrote about is the European version of “The Vanishing” (another review here). Skip the Americanized version.

Watch it. But be warned: the ending will stay with you forever. Just like, perhaps, your non-existence.

Death and the primal fear of non-existence

I’ve come face to face with not-existing. It’s scary. Really scary. I’ve never experienced anything scarier. I can call it “fear,” but it’s more than that. Worse than that. Regular fear arises when something bad is happening or could happen.

But primal fear is looking into the maw of nothing happening to you, because there will be no you around for anything to happen to. Do you get the difference? I hope so. I don’t know if I can describe it any more clearly.

This experience has come to me about a dozen times. Mostly while I’m going to sleep. Occasionally in meditation. It isn’t something that I can bring about on my own. It isn’t a thought; it isn’t an emotion; it isn’t a perception. It’s as if a curtain covering non-existence opens for a moment, giving me a peek into a nothingness that is absolute.

Because I’m not there. I mean, I’m obviously there at the moment, looking into the depths of not-existing for eternity. Yet what I feel all the way down to the marrow of my being is what it means to live for a time and then to not live for all the rest of time.

That feeling grabs my attention, for sure. I feel like I’m staring at the Most Real Thing in existence. Which is, paradoxically, non-existence. More accurately, my non-existence.

I’ve told quite a few people about this experience of mine. Nobody seems to understand what I’m talking about. I’m sure there must be others who have had similar experiences. A commenter on my “Near-death experiences and nothingness” post seems to have felt a similar fear (which is still with her).

I’d be interested in hearing from anyone else who has similarly had a close encounter with non-existence.

Reasons why “you” don’t exist

One entirely reasonable solution to the seemingly insoluble religious, philosophical, and existential questions that boggle the mind is this: the entity with the mind that is being boggled doesn’t exist.

At least, not in the existent sense that we customarily consider ourselves to be enjoying (or more truly, as the Buddha taught, suffering). Over at The Huge Entity this week, Mr. Danieru is featuring musings on reasons why “you” don’t exist from what he calls “some of the most original minds in the blogosphere.”

I can’t disagree with that last statement, considering the gray matter inside my cranium is the home of one of those minds. My previous post, “Compared to the cosmos, you’re nothing,” is my contribution to The Huge Entity’s request for thoughts on this subject. (Hey, when a Huge Entity requests, I contribute).

Check out the four pieces that have been posted to date. They’re wonderfully diverse and stimulating. And return to The Huge Entity daily until you’ve read all of the contributions.

If neither I nor you exist, whew! That solves a lot of problems. Every problem, really. My big hope is that in actuality there’s no me that has big hopes.

Compared to the cosmos, you’re nothing

Like you, my goal every day is to make something of myself. A successful, knowing, active, loving, happy thing. The problem is, on the scale of the universe the value of each of us is vanishingly close to zero. Rounded off to any reasonable number of decimal places, we’re nothing--no thing.

We are small. Very, very small. Check it out for yourself. Each of us is one of six billion people on a planet circling one of 200 billion or so stars in the Milky Way galaxy, which is one of 100 billion or so galaxies in the observable universe, which many physicists believe is but one of a near-infinity of alternative realities in the multiverse.

Well, on the positive side this means that my problems also are nothing. However, being nothing never has been on my life’s to-do list. Like the cartoonist said, “No, I don’t want to live forever, but I damn sure don’t want to be dead forever, either.” So here’s my recommended approach to the Being Next to Nothing problem:

Forget about being something more. Become something less. A lot less. Janis Joplin, along with countless mystics, tells it like it is: “Freedom’s just another word for nothing left to lose.”

There’s a big world to explore between us and absolute Nothing. Take this trip down to quantum spacetime foam. And beyond. That’s easy to do in virtual reality. The trick is making it happen in real reality. It’s the adventure of a lifetime, the only thing for a nothing to do, really.

Just watch out for the Total Perspective Vortex that Douglas Adams warned about. It’ll blow your mind. Which, given the anxious, confused state of my own psyche, I consider to be a good thing.

Jesus says, “Beware of religion”

Here’s another great churchless teaching story from Anthony de Mello, my kind of Jesuit priest. The kind who was censured by the Catholic Church after his death for speaking the truth too freely. This is from his book, “Taking Flight.”

The priest announced that Jesus Christ himself was coming to church the following Sunday. People turned up in large numbers to see him. Everybody expected him to preach, but he only smiled when introduced and said, “Hello.”

Everyone offered him hospitality for the night, especially the priest, but he refused politely. He said he would spend the night in church. How fitting, everybody thought.

He slipped away early next morning before the church doors were opened. And, to their horror, the priest and people found their church had been vandalized. Scribbled everywhere on the walls was the single word, “Beware.”

No part of the church was spared: the doors and windows, the pillars and the pulpit, the altar, even the Bible that rested on the lectern. “Beware.” Scratched in large letters and in small, in pencil and pen and paint of every conceivable color. Wherever the eye rested one could see the words: “Beware, beware, Beware, Beware, beware, beware…”

Shocking. Irritating. Confusing. Fascinating. Terrifying. What were they supposed to beware of? It did not say. It just said “Beware.”

The first impulse of the people was to wipe out every trace of this defilement, this sacrilege. They were restrained from doing this only by the thought that it was Jesus himself who had done this deed. Now that mysterious word “Beware” began to sink into the minds of the people each time they came to church.

They began to beware of the Scriptures, so they were able to profit from the Scriptures without falling into bigotry. They began to beware of sacraments, so they were sanctified without becoming superstitious. The priest began to beware of his power over the people, so he was able to help without controlling.

And everybody began to beware of religion which leads the unwary to self-righteousness. They became law-abiding, yet compassionate to the weak. They began to beware of prayer, so it no longer stopped them from becoming self-reliant. They even began to beware of their notions of God so they were able to recognize him outside the narrow confines of their church.

They have now inscribed the shocking word over the entrance of their church and as you drive past at night you can see it blazing above the church in multicolored neon lights.

Amazing! I agree with William Bennett.

Over on my HinesSight blog I’ve shared the astounding news that right-wing moral pundit William Bennett and I agree about something: the Muhammad cartoons that are freaking out the Muslim world.

In my post, “State Dept. wrong about Muhammad cartoons,” I agree with Bennett that when terrorists use Islam to justify their actions, then that religion becomes fair game. For cartoonists, lampooners, comics, politicians, ranters and ravers, editorialists, whoever. (Oh, I almost forgot: bloggers too.)

Actually, religion should be fair game under any circumstances. There’s nothing special about religious belief that makes the First Amendment inapplicable to it. Freedom of expression applies to speaking about religion as much as anything else.

If you haven’t seen the blasphemous cartoons yet, I found a site that has more readable versions of them (compared to the image I posted previously). Take a look here.

Cartoons of Muhammad create huge uproar

If you’re a devout Muslim, read no further. For below you’ll see drawings of Muhammad, as published in a Danish newspaper, that have caused true Islamic believers to cry “Blasphemy!”

(click on image to enlarge the blasphemy)
And more. There have been boycotts of Danish products, ambassadors recalled, bomb threats, and demonstrations. Today, as the BBC reported, the “Muhammad cartoon row intensifies.”

Newspapers across Europe reprinted the cartoons that were originally published last September in Jyllands-Posten as part of an article about self-censorship and freedom of speech. I’m pleased to support this effort to keep fundamentalism from infecting the health of secular democracies.

Muslims, relax. Do you really think that Muhammad or Allah is going to be disturbed by the publication of a few cartoons depicting how the artist visualizes the founder of Islam? Given that a disturbingly large number of Americans consider that most Muslims are fanatical crazies, you aren’t doing your religion any good by acting in accord with that stereotype.

Wikipedia has an excellent detailed rundown of this controversy (including descriptions of each drawing). This is a classic example of how rigid religious dogmatists can make a mountain of aggrieved righteous indignation out of a molehill of free speech expression. Here are some excerpts from the Seattle PI story:

Demonstrations and condemnations across the Muslim world continued. The Supreme Council of Moroccan religious leaders denounced the drawings on Wednesday. "Muslim beliefs cannot tolerate such an attack, however small it may be," the statement said.

…Mohammed Bechari, president of the National Federation of the Muslims of France, said his group would start legal proceedings against France Soir [one of the newspapers that reprinted the drawings] because of "these pictures that have disturbed us, and that are still hurting the feelings of 1.2 billion Muslims."

Earth to the Muslim world: People get disturbed by lots of things every day. People get their feelings hurt in lots of ways every day. Almost always these things and these ways aren’t illegal or immoral. They’re just part of life in a society where people can freely express themselves.

Most of humanity, I’m confident, doesn’t want to live in a repressive culture where every action is judged against the dictates of a holy book. Those who do want to live that way, go ahead. Just don’t impose your beliefs on the rest of us.

Update: a day later, the controversy intensifies. A 2/2 news story says:

Defending its decision to publish the cartoons, France Soir wrote: "Imagine a society that added up all the prohibitions of different religions. What would remain of the freedom to think, to speak and even to come and go?

"We know societies like that all too well. The Iran of the mullahs, for example. But yesterday, it was the France of the Inquisitions, the burning stakes and the Saint Bartholomew's Day [massacre of Protestants]."

Yes, imagine. Then, spread these cartoons far and wide until Muslims--and every fundamentalist--realizes that genuine spirituality is worlds apart from blind adherence to dogmatic dictates.