As I've noted many times before, and surely will note many times again, like right now, it took me just a few seconds back in 2004 to come up with the tag line, or slogan, that's below the title of this blog: Preaching the gospel of spiritual independence.
I've never thought of changing those words, because they encapsulate what I consider to be the wisest form of spirituality. To me spirituality doesn't have anything to do with religion or supernatural stuff; it's a quest for the deeper side of life, which means it has no firm definition.
And that's the point of spiritual independence. Each of us should feel free to assemble our own unique form of spirituality.
Of course, many people don't want to do that. They prefer a ready-made religion, mystical pursuit, or whatever, just as lots of people don't want to make their own dinner, so they order takeout or pop a frozen store-bought meal in the microwave.
Which is fine. Being spiritually independent can include surrendering one's independence, if that's what seems appealing.
I enjoy reading and re-reading books about meditation, mindfulness, free will, philosophy, Buddhism, and other writings in the wonderfully vague genre of spirituality. Rarely, probably never, do I agree with everything an author says.
Heck, when I reread the books that I've written, I definitely don't agree with everything the author said, and that guy was me. The reason is that I'm constantly changing, as we all are. What struck me as profoundly meaningful at one point in my life seems absurdly wrong at another point.
So I try to keep this in mind when I'm reading a new book that Amazon has delivered to me.
Almost certainly I'm going to find appealing much of what the author says, or I wouldn't have ordered the book. However, I also know that the author is going to say some things that will make me put a large question mark in the margin next to the offending statement.
Again, that's because spirituality is highly individualistic. Unlike science, there's no way to tell fact from fiction, reality from illusion, truth from falsehood. Rather than this being a drawback of spirituality, it's a good thing.
For the lack of standards means that every person drawn to some form of spiritual pursuit necessarily has to cobble together their own belief system, rather than having knowledge conveyed to them already fashioned via a textbook, as is the case with science.
Problem is, often people consider that their personal spiritual beliefs should be as unquestioned as a scientific fact. This is wrong. Just because someone is so confident in their beliefs, they seem akin to an objective law of nature, doesn't make that so.
It's absolutely fine to say, "I believe _____, but you're welcome to disagree." Not fine is an attitude of "I believe _____, and you should too, because it's a fact." Frequently that sentiment is justified in science. The earth is round no matter how many flat earthers claim otherwise.
But in spirituality, where we're talking about subjective meaning, not objective facts, no one has a right to demand that someone else believe as they do.
Yet this also means that no one should be barred from challenging someone else's beliefs, given that one form of spirituality my wife and I embrace (albeit in our own individual ways) is to critique dogmatic fundamentalist belief systems that wrongly claim they're 100% true.
Nothing is 100% true. Including what I just said. Every spiritual book, every spiritual teaching, every spiritual teacher -- they all include valuable gems that will be treasured by some people, as well as useless trinkets that will be rejected by other people.
If I can find a few statements in a book or talk that ring true to me and stick in my mind, it doesn't matter if the rest of what's said strikes me as useless. I don't expect perfection in forms of spirituality because perfection doesn't exist.
What's important to me is growth, change, open-mindedness, learning, and yes, entertainment.
I just got a new book about Buddhism that, after reading just the early pages, I can tell I disagree with some central premises of the author. However, I really liked the preface. That will stick with me. I just wish the entirety of The Art of Disappearing was written in the same style.
Here's the preface.
Do not read this book if you want to be a somebody. It will make you a nobody, a no-self.
I did not write this book. They are transcribed talks, edited with all the bad jokes removed. I did not say my bad jokes anyway. The five khandhas, which presumptively claim to be me, said them. I have the perfect alibi -- my self was absent from the scene of the crime!
This book does not tell you what you must do to get enlightened. It is not an instruction manual like Mindfulness, Bliss, and Beyond, which was also written by those pesky five khandhas pretending to be Ajahn Brahm.
Doing things like following instructions just makes you more of a person. Instead, this book describes how disappearing happens in spite of you. Moreover, it is not just the "outside" that vanishes. The entire "inside," all that you take to be you, that also disappears. And that is so much fun it is sheer bliss.
The true purpose of practicing Buddhism is to let go of everything, not to get more things like attainments to show off to your friends. When we let go of something, really let go, then it disappears. We lose it. All successful meditators are losers.
They lose their attachments. Enlightened ones lose everything. They truly are the Biggest Loser. At the very least, if you read this book and understand some of it, you may discover the meaning of freedom and, as a consequence, lose all the hair on your head!
I acknowledge the kind assistance of other nobodies, in particular Ron Storey for transcribing the talks, Ajahn Brahmali for editing the work, and all the empty beings at Wisdom Publications for publishing the book.
May you all Get Lost,
Not really Ajahn Brahm
Perth, Australia
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