Joe

Yoga bad for Christians: A Response to the Drew Mariani Show

2011-06-25T10:51:00.000-07:00

According to Drew Mariani and guests on his namesake show, Yoga is dangerous for Christians. Mariani claimed, citing a yoga authority, that each of the yoga asanas is a pose designed to worship one of the thirty-three million Hindu gods. Folks, every time you perform an asana you’re inadvertently worshipping a deity.

Mariani writes: “Father Jeremy Davies, exorcist for Cardinal Cormac Murphy-O’Connor, the leader of Catholics in England and Wales, says that activities such as yoga, massage therapy, reiki or even reading horoscopes could put people at risk from (sic) evil spirits.”

Wow, imagine that: receiving a sports massage opens the door for the Dark Prince; reading the Monday horoscope invites Beezlebub to seize your soul. Some Catholics believe such events actually occur. Mr. Mariani is one of them.

Drew Mariani is the Rush Limbaugh of Catholic radio. He harps on a revolving trinity of topics: aborting fetuses, the “attack” marriage, and “attacks” on the Catholic Church. His main intention appears to be reinforcing Catholic victimhood. Listening to his show, I’m reminded why I left the Church. He regularly features guests whom talk about topics like Satanic cults cannibalizing fetuses, priests spilling wine on towels, the stains of which reveal the “Blessed Mother”, and other unlikely, supernatural themes.

Unfortunately, there’s never a shred of evidence offered for any of the outrageous claims. I wonder why he doesn’t invite UFO abductees, Muslim healers, or Mormon visionaries.

His guest on this scary episode, a former dabbler in the New Age, who’s now a self-proclaimed authority on all things “New Age,” compared doing Yoga for its health benefits to early Christians eating meat offered to Greek gods. Just as Paul urged Christians not to eat meat, so the Church urges us not to do Yoga. Aside from the fact that Christians are not obliged to live according to Paul’s admonitions, this analogy is weak. Yoga as purely a form of exercise has been demonstrated to offer a host of health benefits; eating grilled steak offered to Jupiter has not. It’s irresponsible and absurd to deny this occasionally life-changing discipline to Christians, especially American Christians, who desperately need any form of exercise and mental discipline they can get hands on.

At any rate, I’m not interested in quibbling with interpreters of Paul. Here’s the more important issue: the weakness of Mariani and his guest’s arguments. They rest on the following false assumptions.

1. Worship is possible without intent.
2. Yoga poses are unique, generally not found in western forms of exercise or stretching. Every instance of performing a yoga pose is tantamount to worship of a Hindu deity.
3. The Hindu supreme deity is different than the biblical god. The Hindu deity is evil, a guise of Satan, and wishes to possess your soul.

Clearly intent is required when worshiping. My dad used to sit with his hands in prayer position at the dinner table. It was a habit of his. Was he praying? Or consider another real-life example: I was with a group of Tibetan monks at a mosque for a publicity tour. We all did the Muslim evening prayers together, performing the prescribed salat. Were we praying to Allah?

The answer in both cases is clearly no. My dad is an atheist and so are the monks. Performing actions without intent neither equals worship nor does it open the door to demonic possession.

Sitting on my knees, standing straight with feet together, lying on my back, stretching the hands straight up above my head, sitting “Indian style” – these are all yoga poses. Many, if not most yoga poses, which may be done in any sequence for any amount of time, are everyday actions. If Mariani is correct, I’ve been unknowingly worshiping hundreds of Hindu deities throughout my life.

Although there are many Hindu gods, Hindus assert that they are all manifestations of the one supreme deity. In other words, these so-called gods are nothing more than guises for the Supreme, which goes by different names depending on the brand of Hinduism. Interestingly enough, the attributes of their God are the same the biblical God’s: eternal, one, unique, all-powerful, omnipresent, and omniscient.

Finally, only an ignoramus and a bigot would assume that the Hindu deity is evil. If he were not evil, why the fuss about becoming possessed by demons? How many part or full-time yogis have you met that exhibit characteristics of demon possession? Conversely, how many Hindus have you met who exhibit Christian qualities? Perhaps an even more important question: how many Hindus and yogis have you met at all?

Text or community: how the pursuit of truth has changed

2011-04-10T16:40:00.000-07:00

Since human beings entered the stage of this world we have come to the truth through community, that is, human interaction. Before the advent of writing about 4000 years ago, truth was never acquired or sought in text.* It was learned person to person. Not only words, but all the non-words were transmitted: feelings, energy, gestures, among other intangibles.

From this beginning of "history" until the last century, truth was still sought and found in community. A few extraordinary and literate individuals might seek through through text, but you can imagine how unusual this was in a world where books cost thousands of dollars, needed to be hand-copied, and were not translated, except in rare cases. These facts of life circumscribed your search to a few volumes of text. If you lived in a Muslim area, you'd never read about Buddhism. You would have heard about the other monotheistic faiths, but not in a positive light, and thus you really wouldn't give them the time of day. In other words, the search for truth was a narrow affair. Moreover, the search for truth was still within a community. Knowledge was gained from others rather than texts.

Fast forward to today. Today truth is not sought in community; it's sought in isolation. We have access to an impossibly conflicting number of worldviews. We no longer need somebody, a relationship or community, to tell us about them. We can learn more about a religion sitting in our rooms with an internet connection than the adherents of that religion would learn in a lifetime prior to the last century.

History and objective-thought are the harbingers of truth. Truth is contained in historical volumes, written by experts. Or, it's contained in sociological or anthropological analyses, also written by experts, all of who assume the western materialistic model of reality. Our search is circumscribed but we don't realize it. We've taken off the glasses of our pre-modern ancestors and donned the glasses of science and relativism.

We don't realize the earth-shattering implications of what's happened. We search for the truth our whole lives and never find it. Is it because we searching in the wrong way? Is truth found in texts, biased yet purporting to be objective? Or is truth found in a living community? To give an example, is the truth of a religion found by reading its sacred texts and reading its history, or is it found in the community, in the day to day practice and life of those members?

*Even though writing began roughly about this time, 99.9999% of people were totally illiterate.

Withdrawing from Chinese Medicine Program

2010-11-12T13:38:00.000-08:00

Traditional Chinese Medicine (TCM) is a morass of ancient superstitions. It amazes me that intelligent people willfully buy into it, both figuratively and literally. Tuition for TCM is a minimum of $50,000, and a precious four years of one's life.

I'm withdrawing from Academy of Oriental Medicine at Austin this semester. Right now I'm listening to a Chinese doctor explain to us that hitting bones and tendons with needles stimulates Qi (Chi), the meaningless concept of energy from TCM. I say meaningless because it explains nothing. Everything can be said to be Qi. A concept that explains everything, explains nothing. Surely, needling into the nerve-rich periosteum of the bone does not indicate an increase of Qi. It merely indicates the presence of pain, the stimulation of nerves, the damaging of the delicate bone tissue.

The foundation of TCM is the understanding of the internal organs and their relationships to each other. Much of what is taught today comes from ancient, premodern, and medieval philosophical speculations. These speculations constitute the foundation of TCM and most, if not all, diagnosis is derived from these gems. Just about everything we *know* to be true about organs and their inter-relationships based on empirical observations contradicts TCM's medieval conjectures. A few illustrations:

The brain is an insignificant organ in TCM; it's "hollow" and consists of a mysterious "marrow." They don't treat the brain. There are no health problems resulting from problems in this organ. The liver stores the blood in the body. The heart actually creates blood. The spleen sends Qi and to the heart and body fluids for the heart to make the blood. The spleen has an abnormally large influence on the body - in fact, one of the spleen's functions is the hold the blood, meaning that, if the spleen is dysfunctional, blood may start to spill out of the veins, since spleen qi holds the blood. This comes from a 2000 year old text and is still taught today.

The subject is vast and the amount of draw-dropping absurdity in TCM organ theory would make an interesting blog in and of itself. I have countless quotes in my notebook from my professor that still make me chuckle...."kidneys steam the water which then vapors up into the lungs...if they kidney qi is weak, it won't be able to steam this water..." "The reason you cannot see well in the morning is that the liver has not sent the blood to the eyes, and you cannot walk well because the liver has not sent the blood to limbs yet..."

The vast majority of acupuncture studies were poorly done. The good studies prove that needling shallowly in random locations works as well or even better than real acupuncture. The fake acupuncture can be very shallow needling or sham needling, which means there's not puncture of skin at all. I'll write more about this at another time and post the studie

My life philosophy

2010-09-14T13:25:00.000-07:00

Just reading my friend Joseph's blog, called Somewhere in the Dharma (see sidebar). He wrote about "Shit Happens". It got me thinking to how I'd sum up life. Two nuggets of wisdom come to mind, one from my dad, the other from Seinfeld.

My dad's words of wisdom, which he, and now I, unfortunately, utter as a mantra are "If it's not one thing, it's another." and "It's always something."

This past year or two (or 35) have been really difficult. I'm not sure why; perhaps having a baby; could be moving five times in the past year and half; could be not being able to get a job -- hmmmm, so many reasons.

"It's all bullshit" is my other favorite summary, which comes from a Seinfeld episode. Everywhere is bullshit. Paul wrote something to the effect that in God we move and have our being. I'd disagree -- unless Paul was equating God with bullshit. One's real, the other not.

Buddha is famous for his more elegant presentation of the same basic truth of it's always something. Sometimes it makes me feel a little bit better to know this. It's like, "Well, what do you expect? This is life, it ain't supposed to be a joyride." It's easy to forget that when you buy into a lot of the self-help BS that's being peddled.

Elbert Hubbard, an American author, allegedly said that "Life is "one damn thing after another."

In fact there exist endless quotes to illustrating the wonder of life. Apparently, many of us have discovered the same basic truth.

My foray into traditional Chinese medicine

2010-09-01T09:09:00.000-07:00

For over a decade I thought it would be fascinating to study Oriental Medicine (OM). I knew some acupuncturists in San Diego, and at times I considered attending school, but the price tag of over 50K steered me away, not to mention I didn’t have a real passion for the art, more of abiding curiosity.

Ten years later, needing something to study, an endeavor towards which I could zealously apply myself, OM seemed like the perfect candidate. Besides, I needed an excuse to get out of Traverse City, that winter wonderland, the city of cherries, which I dislike, unless they’re the ones with covered in carcinogenic agents, aka, maraschino cherries.

The application process is so easy that anyone with a remote interest and more than a handful of functioning neurons could get accepted. Get accepted I did, beginning classes at the end of July. I couldn’t wait to begin study! I had found my life passion. I loved the mix of esoteric knowledge, applied healing, and the puzzle of diagnosis. I was enchanted by the ancient pedigree. One thing you’ll hear many times in Chinese medical world is that OM is over 4000 years old…. So, it must work! You need not over exert yourself to discern the faulty reasoning here. (Hint: think western astrology)

It didn’t take long until my BS meter was pegged. Livers on the left side of the body that hold all the blood when you sleep; kidneys that steam excess water which then travels to the lungs; five element theory; hearts that make blood; hollow brains that store “essence” – yikes. Just about every class I fell out of my chair at the nonsense I heard. I looked around at my classmates as some of these gems were uttered by my Chinese and very-much-believing-professor, and they just seemed to take it all in. One girl asked innocently: “Does western medicine say that the heart generates blood?”

“No, western medicine says that the bone marrow generates blood, but Chinese medicine has been around for over 4000 years.” Great. I’m impressed.

To be fair, the Chinese system is generally more interested in the energetic aspects of the organs, as each organ is assigned a pathway through which energy, chi, flows through the body. The physical chunk of matter is secondary. This is the OM devotee’s response when you question the sacred dogma spouted in the Nei Jing, a 2000 year old book of medicine that has a Bible-like status in the OM world. However, blood is decidedly NOT just an energy; it’s the very physical red fluid pumping through your body. So when the Nei Jing says your liver stores blood, the meaning is quite obvious, and it’s quite obviously wrong. Energy channels don’t store physical stuff. Radio waves don’t hold transmitters. Neither the Chinese nor anyone else had much of a clue 2000 years ago about anatomy and how the organs function. The history of medicine is a graveyard of what seems today to be absurd ideas.

I ask myself: why am I studying things which we know today to be inaccurate? On top of that, why am I spending over 50K to study it?

TO be continued.

Another chapter begins

2010-06-06T06:37:00.000-07:00

Traverse City didn't work out: too small, too rural. I always imagined I'd like living in the countryside, but I don't. Maybe the bustle, noise, excitement, and uber-stimulation of Korea ruined that quiet side of me.

I quit my job as an admissions officer. I hated that job. I was responsible for recruiting students, but the truth is, I had no power to make any decision at all. Every decision was made by a committee of employees, a few of which had been there for over 20 years. I dislike bureaucratic environments. Your whole day is circumscribed by rules and duties, 99% of which exist in case of the minute chance something bad may happen. "If we don't x, y, and z, this might happen." It's a very fear-based environment; but then again, American society is the same. Everybody is afraid of everyone else, whether it's violence or more often the fear of legal action.

One night I had a very clear moment where it felt like I'd connected with some deeper being of Being. It was clear that I should quit my job and study oriental medicine. One never knows what to make of such supramundane experiences, but I'm following the directive, or rather, it seems to be leading me by opening some doors and closing others.

After much back and forth we've decided on Austin, mostly because of the cost of living, the livability of the city, and also one of my best friends lives there. I'll be starting an oriental medicine program on July 21st. Oriental medicine is a 3000 hr program, taking a little over three years to complete, and it consists of acupuncture, herbalogy, bodywork, energy work (chi-gong and tai chi), western biomedicine, and large clinical component. I'm very excited to begin learning.

KIVA: a great video

2009-12-15T11:13:00.001-08:00

This is such an incredible video and organization. It's called KIVA, and they connect people like me and you to the poorest of poor around the world where we can lend them a few dollars so that they can improve their lives. I've been looking for a charity to donate to and this one is it for me.

I was also very touched by the footage in Cambodia. A farmer was lent $25 from someone in London, England, and that small amount of money went a long way to help a family in Phenom Penh. My visit to Cambodia was one of the most profound and touching experiences of my life; something about the people there. (No comments, Joseph! Yes I remember the sea-food buffet, and that's not what I'm talking about!) Watch the video, it's truly great -- entertaining and motivating.

A Fistful Of Dollars: The Story of a Kiva.org Loan from Kieran Ball on Vimeo.

Go on, be a tiger

2009-12-14T07:37:00.000-08:00

I can’t help but to feel a bit of shadenfreude when corporations use celebrities to market their services, and then something like the Tiger Woods incident happens. In the New York Times today, an article details some companies who have used the face of Woods to be their “brand”.

Accenture, the giant consulting firm, ended its six-year marketing relationship with Tiger Woods on Sunday, showing once again that in advertising as in sports, there are no sure things.

Mr. Woods had been featured in Accenture campaigns with the tagline, “Go On. Be a Tiger,” splashed in business magazines and airport waiting rooms since 2003. Since most consumers have no idea what a company like Accenture does, Mr. Woods became the human face of the corporation and a means to extol the corporate virtues of performance and risk-taking.

It strikes me as absurd that a company like Accenture pays millions of dollars in advertising and marketing, and their message is something so ridiculous as “Go On. Be a Tiger.” I can imagine the countless boardroom meetings with the Marketing big shots mulling over again and again what their “brand image” will be, how much money they’ll spend (millions), and what clever sound-bite they’ll use to best represent an signify their corporation.

And there you have the final product of all that deliberation, creativity, and all of those advanced business degress: a portrait of a philandering golfer with the tag-line “Go On. Be a Tiger.”

Brilliant.

Haneul and I

2009-12-11T18:39:00.000-08:00

Here's a picture I love of Haneul and I in Traverse City, Michigan, my new home in the north. It was a warm, beautiful sunny day, and my wife, daughter, and I moseyed around downtown, stopping to soak up the sunshine, which would disappear only weeks later, engulfed by blanket upon blanket of snow.

A simile for meditation

2009-12-11T07:58:00.000-08:00

I’ve been attempting to practice bhavana again. Bhavana means “cultivation” and it’s the word the Buddha used to describe what we call meditation. Bhavana consists of vipassana and shamatha – insight and calm abiding.

Calm abiding is generally a pre-requisite to insight. The mind must be tame enough to observe it closely. My mind is like a kettle of boiling water, the surface is busy and agitated, and the agitation runs deep, a churning, broiling sea. I focus my attention on the insides of my nostrils, observing the sensation of air flowing in and flowing out. There are many places you can place your attention, but I find keeping the focus on a narrow part of experience to be the most beneficial for me. I read this description of how to meditate from Bhante Henepola Gunarantana in his classic Mindfulness in Plain English.

The interesting part of this is how when I’m trying to keep my concentration, I feel like I’m trying to hang on to a bucking bull. The bull is jumping about wildly, trying to throw me, and I hang on as tight as possible. Most of the times he throws me before I tame him. The throwing consists of believing my thoughts, such as, “this is too hard” or “I don’t really need to meditate. I’m too active, I should chant or bow or something” or “I have too much to do” or “This is so boring, I hate meditating.” In a good session, I’ll label the thoughts, and observe them as nothing but an agitated bull leaping about. More often than not, I get up, ending my session early.

If I stay on board, there often comes a point at about 12 to 15 minutes where the turbulence subsides, and a sweet peace arises. The peace is experienced as a result of the mind settling down. You don’t realize how turbulent your mind is until it settles. There’s little else in the world that is as pleasurable as a quiet mind. All the mental disease, suffering, suicide, anxiety, etc. is a result of a mind in turmoil. (That’s not to say that meditation can cure all of these.)

I guess I just wanted to share that experience of how difficult it is to hang out when trying to focus on one thing, and how if you can hang out there, and keep returning to the object of your meditation, you may reap the reward of a deep peace and happiness. The acuity wears off over time, but it lingers like a fine incense throughout the day.

Meditation reminds me a lot of running. The first 10 to 15 minutes are often difficult and uncomfortable, but then there suddenly arises a point when it feels effortless and, I dare say, even enjoyable!

Kimchi, vegan diet, and the gym

2009-12-07T09:48:00.000-08:00

Some random updates on my life:

For lunch today I munched on kimchi that Insook and I made last night, our first batch since we've been back in the states. I was stoked that it turned out so well. It takes a few hours or more to make, most of that time is waiting for the cabbage to soak in the salt water.

I eat kimchi far more frequently than does Insook. I love it. It's a perfect food for me: spicy, salty, garlicky, and nutritious. I eat it with plain ol' white rice for a snack, with eggs and rice for breakfast, and a side dish with dinner. (I don't usually eat it for every meal, FYI)

Speaking of food, last Monday I started a vegan diet. It's only about 85% vegan right now, as I'm still finishing up some random vegeterian products in my fridge, which contain eggs and milk. Day one was easy and fun, day two was less so, day three was tiring and I wanted cheese so bad that I dreamt about it the night before! I see being vegan as a sure-fire way to lose weight, stop drinking so much alcohol, gain more energy, promote self-discipline, and regain my integrity. What I mean by the integrity remark is that I see the amount of animal suffering that goes into eating animal products, but I turn my head away, and pretend like the hamburger comes from a syrofoam package, rather than a living being.* I feel like a lesser man inside because of this lack principle.

After one week I'm lighter, and I defintely have more energy. I regained a sense of personal power. I felt powerless before. My drinking was out of control, I realized my diet was lousy, and I was, and still am, 30 lbs overweight, but I reckoned myself powerless to modify any of it. Somehow, watching this video of Rich Roll, the vegan super-athlete changed that. I'm sure there were other factors too, but this was the straw, so to speak.

I joined the gym this weekend, already logging in 6 miles on the treadmill and lifiting weights. My goal is to drop 30 lbs in four months. By cutting the 500 alcohol calories a day, the meats, the cheeses, the eggs, and cookies, and by having a disciplined workout routine, this goal should be attainable.

Wish me luck!

* Reminds me of the song by the Presidents of the United States of America: "Peaches come from a can, they were put there by a man, in a factory downtown."

Trail running and meditation

2009-11-25T09:55:00.001-08:00

Yesterday at dusk I went for a quick run through the woods in my Vibram 5-fingers. I love feeling the earth close to my feet, the rocks, roots, and other debris littering the trail. It was almost totally dark, so it was difficult to see, and the ground was cold and moist. I noticed I have to run on the balls of my feet, engaging my toes to keep balance. I also noticed that when I run, I land on my heals. You don't want to do this when running practically bare-footed; it really jars your back and hips. I like running up and down the petite hills. I have to concentrate on my feet so as not to trip or step on a sharp stone. This concentration is similar to meditation. It calms my mind, and the time goes by much faster.

Speaking of meditation, I haven't done it lately. I notice as I'm getting older, I'm becoming more action-oriented. I'd rather be moving than still. I'm sure it has something to do with this sedentary life-style, sitting in front of computer screen all day, heart rate not raising much above sixty beats per minute.

I suspect I've lost the usual motivations for extended periods of meditation. I realize now I'm not going to get enlightened, and even hundreds of hours of sitting doesn't do all that much in making me a better person. I'm still Joe, stuck with the same conditioning and baggage with which I entered this life -- quick tempered, cynical, self-absorbed, and lazy. I feel like a fraud entertaining the Bodhisattva Vow. I chant some Buddha's name and wonder who am I kidding. I know there's no Buddha listening, just a repetitive tape-loop circling around this skull, trying to still the maddening self-commentary and analysis. Like Seung Sahn wrote, may as well recite "Coke a Cola, Coke a Cola."

I try to stay mindful and present within this fathom-long frame as much as possible. But mindfulness bores me within about twenty seconds. There is just too much in life to comment on: my coworkers annoying habits, the cold weather, and just what the hell am I going to do with this life?

With such important dramas to keep me enmeshed in samsara, who has time to be present?

Secret to happiness

2009-11-19T05:56:00.000-08:00

I’ve been in a real funk lately. Part of it has to do with the fact that I haven’t had a good night’s sleep in weeks. I’ve never found it easy to be upbeat while sleep-deprived. I’m also twenty pounds overweight, I drink too much, have a new baby, am trying to get used to living in the sticks, am struggling with a lack of financial freedom that I had in Korea (making $50/hr gives you a lot of freedom), and… well, I suppose that’s enough.

But yesterday all of that changed. What’s the secret?

Exercise. I haven’t been exercising. Yesterday I ran 2.8 miles in thirty minutes, and I felt like a new person afterward. My clothes were drenched in sweat. I met the goal I had set for myself, not sure if I could, in fact, run that far, since it’s been months since I’ve had a good run. Before running I felt like a prisoner in a life I didn’t want. After running, I felt inspired, hopeful, and grateful for my life. I arrived home a different person, much to the surprise and elation of my poor wife who has to not only deal with a new baby, but a morose, complaining husband!

Exercise may be one of the most significant mood-altering “drugs” out there. The beauty of it is that it’s free, you don’t need a prescription, and it’s actually good for you.

More on Free Will

2009-10-14T12:19:00.000-07:00

One of my favorite blogs, which you'll find on my sidebar, is Think Buddha. Since I wrote a bit about free will in my half-arsed eulogy of Ramesh Balsekar, I thought I'd continue with the theme by linking to this excellent and interesting blog entry at Think Buddha.

A little tidbit to whet your taste buds:

So leaving philosophy on one side, I have over the last few years been practising having no free will. That it to say, I have been giving up on the thought that some little homunculus in my head is responsible for directing me, and instead I have been having the thought (or the thought has been having me…) “What if my actions arise not out of some kind of personal freedom, but merely out of various interacting conditions at play in the world as a whole?”

Ramesh Balsekar died

2009-10-05T13:23:00.000-07:00

Who's that? "Who cares", Ramesh would say. Balsekar was a teacher in the Advaita (nondual Indian philosophy) tradition. He was/is an important spiritual influence on my life. The first time I read him was back in 2003 while I was living in San Diego. I thought he was insincere, that his ideas were controversial for the sake of being so. However, after that encounter, I couldn’t let go of his claims. Is there really no individual, no free will, no choice? It seemed absurd and anti-intuitive.

In those days I was undertaking heavy meditative questioning, such as, what is this “me”, where is the center of what I call “myself”, is there really free will, etc. Through such questioning it became obvious that Ramesh was at least partly right. If there is free will, it’s severely restricted. It’s clear that our lives are made from our desires. It’s also certain that we do not choose our desires. At every moment our choice is made based on a desire. For example, you may not want to clean the toilet, but you do so. The desire to have a clean toilet outweighs the aversion to cleaning it.

His ideas, which are ancient by the way, and found in all spiritual traditions, create a calming effect on the individual. They take the anxiety and stress out of decisions and situations. The border between “me” and the rest of the world out there becomes a bit more porous. Our place in the matrix of all that is, the infinite mass of cause and effect, becomes more apparent. Every moment of being is the culmination of infinite causes and effects from the beginning of time, if there is such a thing. It’s laughable at how much control we believe we exert.

Some may criticize such ideas as escapism. The notion that we are being lived rather than living is anathema to western civilization and classical Buddhist thought, and by “classical”, I mean Southeast Asia Buddhist thought. In later Mahayana developments, one begins to see an increase of nondual teachings. I imagine the Buddha objecting that such teachings are “unskillful”, because they foster of sense of helplessness and undermine his teachings on karma and individual choice, which is the backbone of Buddhist thought.

Whatever one concludes regarding the utility of these ideas, it is clear that Ramesh will be missed by thousands. I’m sorry that I never had the chance to meet him, as he played a fairly significant role in my life. He leaves a legacy of books, recordings, and videos which will inspire, help, and confound countless others in the future.

Balsekar Wiki
Ramesh was in a long line of respected Advaita Vedanta teachers

Korea, America -- Same, same

2009-08-13T06:39:00.000-07:00

I’ve been back now for over three months, and I believe the reverse culture shock is settling down. I’m not even sure that there is such a thing as “reverse culture shock”. Real or not, it’s the only way I can understand the occasional, furious outbursts at Americanisms, like stark individualism, rampant narcissism, constant fear and anxiety, an absurd media, a broken health care system, and a legal system which suffocates its citizens. There’s a thick atmosphere of mistrust and fear among people. One example will have to suffice: after spending eight hours interviewing for an entry level position at my current job, and after having three professional references checked, background checked, credit checked, this checked, and that checked, I was still, after all that checking, required to have my employment contract notarized, because, apparently, my employer doesn’t trust me enough to sign my own contract.

While in Korea I had come under the mistaken impression that the Koreans were somehow uniquely irrational. As a daily mantra –OM THEYRE IRRATIONAL SVAHA -- it provided a lens through which I could dismiss rather than make sense of a culture that proves opaque to even the most astute cultural epicureans. Where they were emotional, we were cool, calm, and logical – a whole nation of Dr. Spocks, deciding from their brains rather than their bellies.

What an irrational and mistaken notion! One need look no further than the still, ongoing coverage of Michael Jackson and the nutjobs now disrupting town hall discussions about health care with middle school tactics, tantrums, and empty slogans: What? We’re going to be like Russia if we all have health care?! Why is government involvement ALWAYS bad? I heard many of Spock’s offspring proudly trumpet that they would no longer be buying GM cars because they were government owned now! The ghost of communism still haunts these here corridors.

So, no, Americans are not more rational. We’re the same. We reveal our ignorance and emotion in different ways, clearly attributable to conditional factors, such as, history, geography, and all the of the minute, learned behaviors that comprise a culture. As the Buddha said: because of this, there is that; when this arises, that arises.

And finally, one thing we can all agree on: all people just want to be happy. And most of us do our damndest to prevent that from happening.

New Life Beginning - Traverse City, Michigan

2009-07-17T14:39:00.000-07:00

Almost packed, about 16 boxes. This interminably long liminal stage is finally coming to an end. Two months in Korea, three months living at my mom's; our new home is one day away. We're driving early tomorrow morning up to the northern most point of western Michigan -- Traverse City. Surrounded by seas, lakes, rivers, and trees, beautiful, quiet, and it's even got a hip little downtown. Some twenty-something year old guy plopped on the sidewalk and strummed a sitar. I'm not even sure if he was collecting money. The lefty bookstore across the street had lots of eco-nature-save the planet books. The religion section was amusing. All ten Jesus books were of the conspiracy stripe. Not a single mainstream respectable scholar! Lefties and religion never mixed well. I sat down with a book about the Great Lakes, promising myself to buy it later, so as to get myself in the spirit of my new home.

I took the job at Interlochen Center for the Arts, a prestigious boarding school for children who love the arts and for parents who are willing to sell of both arms and legs to afford their child's dream. An incredible campus -- nestled between two mammoth glacial lakes. There's dozens of little stone huts where one student can practice his instrument. The cacophony of everyone playing spreads out through the seemingly endless birch, maple, and pine forests.

Insook and I are excited to start our new life. We rented a condo overlooking a petite valley, which marks the beginning of a gargantuan, superbly manicured golf course (The Crown). Our new two-bedroom has a brand spanking new washer and dryer and dishwasher. I've already imagined how when the first snow falls, I'm going to open the sliding patio door and sled down the hill into the golf course! She thinks I'm kidding, but I'm not. I guess they don't do this kind of thing in Korea.

I think we'll be able to get in touch with nature more. I'll be working in a giant forest and we're surrounded by water. This will help. Also there's not a whole lot of big-city distractions.

This is all kind of a haphazard blog-post, but I just wanted to update my few readers about the goings-on in our lives. I'll start writing much more next week after we settle down and a normal, post-liminal life begins to emerge. Look for lots more religious, philosophical, and political posts -- the ideas have been fermenting and brewing like crazy, I just haven't had the clarity or desire to put them down! I'm also going through a serious bout of reverse culture shock. More later.

Traverse City, Michigan

Update: Back the USA

2009-04-14T18:27:00.000-07:00

It's been a long time since I've written. I've been busy, as I'm moving back to the US this month -- in 8 days, actually. Lots of packing, thinking, ruminating, wondering, fearing, and exciting! What will I do? Time to get serious about making decisions regarding career, job, income, all the hard decisions I prefer to avoid by contemplating the empty nature of all phenomena and whether Jesus actually resurrected. I don't have time for these questions. Well, I do -- but the fact is, I only have so much energy everyday. I tend to scatter it in ten thousand unproductive directions. It needs to be focused now.

I'll be living with my Mom and step father for some time, while I scope out possible neighborhoods to live in, look for jobs, talk to graduate school programs, and consider business possibilities. Here's what I'm thinking:

I have two major options. One is going to grad school. I narrowed it down to a few possibilities. In each case, I will need to attend school full-time for 3 to 4 years. The financial toll will be somewhere around $35,000 - 60,000. Throw in the amount of potential money lost since I won't be able to work much during this time, and it rockets to around $200,000.

Three to four years and $200K. Isn't there something better I could do with that time and money? Sure is. That's why I'm considering different business options. We'll see what happens. Will write more later when the ideas become clearer.

Was the Pope right about condoms in Africa?

2009-03-22T17:44:00.000-07:00

Not if you believe the media. Here's an alternative take on the issue -- by a Harvard professor.

Cambridge, Mass., Mar 21, 2009 / 10:11 am (CNA).- Pope Benedict’s recent brief remark against condoms has caused an uproar in the press, but several prominent scientists dedicated to preventing AIDS are defending the Pope, saying he was correct in his analysis. In an interview with CNA, Dr. Edward Green explained that although condoms should work, in theory, they may be “exacerbating the problem” in Africa.

Benedict XVI’s Tuesday comments on condoms were made as part of his explanation of the Church’s two prong approach to fighting AIDS. At one point in his response the Pontiff stressed that AIDS cannot be overcome by advertising slogans and distributing condoms and argued that they “worsen the problem.” The media responded with an avalanche of over 4,000 articles on the subject, calling Benedict a “threat to public health,” and saying that the Catholic Church should “enter the 21st century.”

Read the rest here.

I thought this was funny... from a reader responding to this article.

Today our priest gave a very long sermon which included his take on the Pope’s trip to Africa. To paraphrase, he said, “in a continent where roughly 2.7 million children die a year from malaria, 5 million children die from malnutrition, over 10 million more a year die from airborn, water and commonly treated diseases such as measels, and in a good year another million die from various civil wars, the media would have us all believe that by raining condoms down condoms from the sky we will cure all of Africa’s problems.”

I'm the giver and receiver

2009-02-24T23:32:00.001-08:00

I was reading Byron Katie's blog (it's on my sidebar, highly recommended) and I realized something, though it's crossed my mind before, but I wanted to write it out, so that it would become ingrained in my mind.

When I love, it's myself that I'm loving. It's the same when I hate. It doesn't matter what I love, whether it's a sign on the road or a person; that love is experienced here in this mind. No other mind is feeling that love.

And the same is true with hate. And makes me realize how utterly stupid it is to hate. Whatever I hate, and it doesn't matter what it is I hate, whether it's men spitting on the sidewalk, serial killers, a human being, or a TV program, I'm the one who primarily experiences that hate. I'm the giver and receiver at the same time. And the same is true with anger. Think about it: When someone cuts me off while driving and I get all angry and a feeling hatred arises for that "stupid SOB" I'm the ONLY one who's feeling it. Ouch. As much as we'd like to exact revenge against somebody who allegedly wrongs us, we only wrong ourselves more when we allow anger a foothold into our mind.

Being peaceful is not weak. Anger is weakness. Totally. If you have an enemy, and we create many enemies in our mind, what better way to get them back than to be totally happy and not allow them to make you angry! But this goes against our whole way of thinking.

Anger is weakness because I'm suffering the results of the anger not my enemy. It's like instant karma. Perhaps there is justice, we just haven't realized it.

One thing the Buddha said makes sense more now. He told his monks that even if someone were to cut their limbs off one by one to not be angry but to wish that person well. Sounds ridiculous on the surface, but given that the monks would only be suffering from their own anger/hatred, it would make sense for them to remain peaceful and happy.

In a way this teaching is completely selfish. Why wish others happiness and love?* Because you benefit. They benefit too, but even if they never feel your wishes for their happiness, you do. You'll feel it.

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*One of the main practices in Buddhism is called Metta meditation. It's a meditation where you develop a feeling of loving-kindness for all beings, including yourself. You imagine sending that feeling to all living beings, wishing them joy, safety, and peace.

My prostration history: Buddhas and pig heads

2009-02-09T17:20:00.000-08:00

Bowing or prostrating is one of those things that triggers lots of emotions and feelings in people. Most westerners shun bowing, since it represents a giving up of autonomy and an admission that something is greater outside of oneself. Or perhaps it's just not in our culture so we don't much think about it. In East Asia bowing is as common as grass. It's included in most ceremonies, celebrations, and holidays.

My first experience prostrating was at the San Diego Zen Center. After our sitting meditation we did three bows -- to nothing in particular. We just bowed. It didn't much bother me one way or another. Sometimes I imagined bowing to "life itself". Usually I didn't think about anything, I just bowed. "Chop wood, carry water". Bow. So Zen, isn't it? Joko, the teacher there, said bowing humbles us, which we all need. She saw life as all inter-connected. The illusion of an autonomous "me" gives way to an all-encompassing web of life in which it's recognized that "I" have much less control than previously assumed.

I bowed a lot at the Tibetan Buddhist center. We bowed to the Buddha, the Dharma, and the Sangha. I bow to the Triple Gem, because I recognize the brilliance of the Buddha's teaching (the Dharma), his integrity, and his concern for others. He's someone worthy of emulating. The dharma is unquestionably one of the clearest and most skillful doctrines ever produced on the planet, and the Sangha, the community, is a great inspiration to all, living in the world with kindness, generosity, and mindfulness.

I prostrated myself at a mosque in San Diego as I took part in the Friday Islamic prayers. What an experience! Everyone together, washing their feet, hands, faces, and then off to the large hall where hundreds of people of various ethnicities all united in worshipping the one source of all Being.

In Korea, I've bowed literally hundreds of times in Buddhist temples. Many Koreans have a daily practice of 108 prostrations, a practice I tried to keep but which my lazy nature unequivocally rejected. The 108 bows are undertaken for various reasons: to extinguish bad karma, as a devotion, for concentration, to build up merit*, and some, I suppose, might simply do it as a form of exercise.

I also bowed to my parents and in-laws and a wooden duck during my wedding. Each Lunar New Year the in-laws receive a bow, an ancient Korean custom. This year I was rewarded with $20 for my effort!

Last but not least, this past weekend I bodily submitted myself to a pig head. That's right. A swine was decapitated, installed on a table, and we prostrated ourselves to the Almighty Schweinkopf. Afterwards, we stuffed envelopes full of money into its rigor mortified mouth and downed a glass of rice wine.**

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* In Buddhism there's the concept of "merit". Through our thoughts and actions, a kind of subtle energy is accumulated which creates the experiences we have later. Good actions produce merit, while bad ones produce what will be experienced as bad karma. A simple illustration of this is expressing anger. The anger expressed will carry on in others' mindstreams for an incalcuable length of time. This is also true for generosity, etc.

** This is a typical traditional ceremony which takes place when someone opens a new business or shop. In this case, I was at the opening ceremony of a table tennis club in my area. It's allegedly for good luck, though I suspect it may bring about the opposite!

Overcoming negative speech

2009-02-04T21:25:00.001-08:00

I haven't been writing much lately. Looking at the computer monitor stresses my eyes more and more. I've also been playing about four or five hours of table tennis everyday. I'm surprised my knees, thighs, and back are holding up with the intense training. When I first started playing a lot, back about four months ago, I played two hours everyday and my body was exhausted. I could hardly get up and even got a migraine. It's amazing how the body can adjust to physical exertion.

Everyone, including the two coaches at the club, are still surprised how fast I'm improving. I went from the worst player in the club a few months ago to being in the top 30% of best players there. Last night I beat a professional woman player from Samsung, but of course I was given a huge handicap, namely, six points, which means I only had to score five to win, while she needed to score eleven. It was still an accomplishment.

I'm hoping to start up something at home in the US -- a club, coaching, I'm not sure. My goal is to play in regional tournaments and keep training. Back home this is difficult. In Korea there are pros and table tennis clubs everywhere.

Besides ponging, I re-established a regular Buddhist practice of chanting, mindfulness, and some silent meditation. The latter I find boring, and so I end up reciting a mantra, usually Kwan Seum Bosal or Namo Amitabul. Reciting mantras and thumbing my mala (Buddhist "rosary") silents the mind within minutes and feelings of peace and joy often well up inside. I've been attempting to reign in my seemingly inherent negative mind and diligently watch my speech. I realized something important: complaining not only annoys others and makes you look like a fool, but it causes you feel lousy too. As soon as I open my mouth and complain, and for me this usually takes the form of sarcasm, I feel worse -- the negative speech snowballs until I'm railing against everything and everyone in existence. However, if I can bite my lip and let the thought pass without commenting, the internal complaint ceases quickly, and the mind goes back to a neutral state.

My foul mouth started when I was a mere toddler, a fact recently confirmed by two girls I went to pre-school with whom I haven't seen since I was there. Last week my mom told me they still remember me! Wow, amazing. I haven't a clue who they are. Why do they remember me? My choice vocabulary. I was years ahead of my time.

The first words I remember were of the four-letter variety, inspired no doubt by my parent's divorce when I was about that age. Since the ripe old age of three, these foul friends have yet to leave me. Even in my high school best friend's home, I couldn't refrain from goddamns, sonofabitches, and jesuschrists. And his father was a deacon. My friend became a pastor at a Southern Baptist church in my hometown.

Right Speech is an important part of the Eight-Fold Path, the Buddhist "program", if you will. But more importantly than that, it's essential for our own and others' happiness.

The power of naming

2009-01-22T17:25:00.000-08:00

Insook and I were strolling through the park, a warm and sunny January afternoon, and we caught sight of this furry, small creature on a leash held by a middle school girl. It was long, rode low to ground, had a long nose and bulging eyes. Not knowing what it was, Insook asked the girl, no doubt this poor girl is asked dozens of times everyday, and she said it was a "Perry", the Korean word for the animal. That didn't help me much, and I sat there and stared at the thing, wondering what it was.

I had seem them before, remarking "those were popular for pets in the 80s." Somehow that random tidbit of trivia came out, and to be honest, I wasn't even sure it was true.

My brain scrambled for about five minutes to come up with the name of the animal, as if I didn't find the name, it would disappear. I chuckled at myself for this desperate attempt to find the audible utterance which has been attached to this creature for the simple reason that it didn't matter what it's called -- there it is! It is what it is, which is to say, the name will never capture what it is anyways.

This episode reminded me of the power of naming and thought. We name things because it gives us security. Once we name something, we "know" what it is, and we can be done with it. We do this unconsciously all day long. "It's an oak tree... a laptop... a forest..." And here I was confronted with an object for which I couldn't find the name, and I looked at it utterly puzzled. But what's interesting is that I actually looked at it for what it was. Try looking at something and not knowing the name of it. Trees take on a mysterious quality -- what are they anyways? They're pretty bizarre when you just look at them, not knowing what they are.

And then suddenly I remembered what the curious little animal was. The unknown became known, the brain stopped its search for the name.

It was a ferret.

The girl bringing the newspaper

2009-01-21T17:13:00.001-08:00

Everyday we get off the elevator at the sixth floor, walk past a counter on which sit various newspapers, we grab our newspapers, and walk on to our offices. I get the Korea Times. There's no effort in getting the newspaper. One merely reaches one's arm out, contracts the finger muscles to secure it with the hand, and carries it about fifty meters to one's cubicle.

So it was quite a surprise to find out a young woman brings the manager, who sits next to me, his newspaper everyday. I wondered aloud why he couldn't get his own newspaper. She shrugged. "I don't know. My boss (another man) told me to bring it to him everyday."

I don't know why, but things like this drive me crazy. There's something I despise about sexism and inequality. The gesture of the girl bringing the manager the newspaper is obviously nothing more than a power-play, a throwback to the good ol' days of girl-servants doing everything for the man. Such practices are alive and well here, and even though I know that, to see it, as innocent as it seems, there's really no harm in a girl bringing a man his newspaper, makes my blood boil.*

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*I regret this says more about my own intolerance and temperament than anything else. Anger is my Achilles heal, a lifelong project. I hope it mellows with age, however, since living in Korea it's only gotten worse.

The intimate is unfamiliar

2009-01-18T17:38:00.000-08:00

Sometimes the intimate can be so unfamiliar. I looked down the empty hallways of my office: the glass walls, thin grey carpeting, red security lights. Times like this I wonder what I'm doing and who I am.

Who I am is always answered by a series of thoughts, concepts, memories. What I'm doing -- well, I'm doing whatever I'm doing, but sometimes when I stop and just observe what's happening, exactly as it's happening, without thinking, planning, daydreaming -- life is uncanny. It's just what it is, and yet it's strange and mysterious. But it's not strange or mysterious, because it's so familiar and intimate. An unspoken sense of wonder arises -- how did I get here?

It's just my office with its glass walls, workers, whirring of heaters, chattering keyboards, and staccato bits of conversations in a language I still can't understand.

How did I get here is not a question unique to me nor is it a real question: it's more a sense of wonder at how my choices have delivered me to this moment, in this country, this city, this office, behind this laptop.

We're making those choices right now, shaping the landscape in which we'll later find ourselves for better or for worse.

The Quran as Muhammad's Miracle

2009-01-15T04:21:00.000-08:00

Yep, another post on Islam. One of the subjects I've been thinking about is the so-called inimitability of the Quran, which I wrote a little about in my last entry. I find it utterly puzzling that all Muslims are totally convinced about the "miracle of the Quran". And these aren't uneducated buffoons making these arguments; they're thoughtful intelligent people. I've listened to dozens of lectures online and read a couple of books about it. I even read through a website called the inimitable quran. The arguments were decent there, however the author only chose one sura to analyze. I'd like to see somebody argue for the brilliance of the abu-Lahab sura!

1. Muhammad says a number of times in the Quran (my paraphrase): If you doubt this scripture, make one up better or similar to it. Even if you call all the people of the Earth together, nobody could match this Quran. This is quite a challenge. Muslims today are proud to say nobody could do it in seventh century Arabia, and there were some darn good poets in that society. The Arabs were famous for their poetry. Since nobody could match it back then, that means it must be a miracle because otherwise we'd have heard of the contender who uttered a scripture more profound than al-Quran.

This line of reasoning is weak for a number of reasons. First of all, the whole history of this time is only told by Muslims. We don't have any historical documents from the "other sides" -- the Jews, polytheists, and Christians in the area. Sure, they make appearances, jeering at Muhammad and telling him he's possessed by demons -- a claim the Jews also made about Jesus. Therefore, if anyone did recite something superior, it's unlikely to have survived. Furthermore, and more importantly, NO Muslim would admit that some rival's utterances were better than Muhammad's. And this is an important point. Admitting such a thing would be tantamount to apostasy, a crime punished by death in the Medina years. The peer pressure alone would prevent such a thing from happening.

Secondly, there was no "Quran" back then. Scraps and pieces of what came to be known as the Quran were memorized by Muhammad and a few his closest companions, therefore how could people really compete with it? It wasn't a text. It wasn't like everyone was given a copy of a book and told, "Here it is. Let's see if you can produce something like it!" And even if that had happened, the whole test is subjective. On what ground should it be judged? Rhyme? Meaning? Moral relevance? Social teachings? Theology? It's not like comparing two different still life paintings of an apple.

In contemporary times, this challenge is meaningless. Who can speak in 7th century classical Arabic? Let's assume somebody can, and they spend ten years developing a masterpiece of theological and social teachings. Who's going to judge it? Muslims admitting it were better than the Quran would more or less be renouncing their religion. If the Quran is not a miracle, Islam falls on its face, according to Muslims. Non-Muslims couldn't care less about this whole affair. Moreover, even if non-Muslims DID in fact chime in and say "Wow, this fella's book is far superior to the Quran, not a single Muslim would admit this fact -- let's be honest. So, the whole challenge is really a farce.

Let's not forget that Muhammad had twenty-two years to utter the Quran. That's a long time! Anybody who dared this Quixotic quest would have to be given the same amount of time to produce their miracle.

Finally, as I wrote before, there's plenty of fairly confusing, repetitious, and totally irrelevant verses in the Quran. For example, squabbles with Muhammad's wives, how to divide up booty from raiding caravans, etc. Is this the best the Creator of the Universe can do?

Other quick miraculous aspects of the Recitation:

-- Scientific facts not known at the time are in the Quran. This is BS. I checked them out. A few of these alleged miracles are somewhat impressive, but many of them are plain wrong. A number of Christian sites have bunked them in detail for anybody who cares to research it.

-- "Muhammad was illiterate. An illiterate man couldn't produce such a masterpiece." Uh, well, nobody knows for sure if he really was illiterate. And even if he was, this doesn't prove a divine source

-- There's more, but that's all the time I have for now.

UN Useless

2009-01-12T19:42:00.000-08:00

One of the very few things I agree with George W. Bush about is the futility of the UN to accomplish anything. The conflict in Gaza is a perfect example. Hundreds being killed, an all-out war taking place, and what does the UN do? They have a meeting and they issue a statement. There's not a single country in the world who gives a rat's behind what the UN says, especially if you're the country involved in the conflict. Is Israel just supposed to sit back and allow lunatics to fire missiles randomly into their neighborhoods? And once Israel attacks, as any nation would and should, are the Palestinians going to remain passive as their brothers and sisters are being slaughtered by a massive Israeli military?

And yet the UN issues another statement "condemning the violence" and Ban-Ki Moon, the UN Secretary "hopes" the violence will end.

George W. Bush, for all his idiocy, at least understands this. If you want to get something done in the world, don't rely on the UN.

Learn what Jihad really means

2009-01-09T18:49:00.000-08:00

Jihad has become one of the hottest topics in the past decade. However, it's difficult to find out the truth behind this word, which means literally "to strive." Muslim apologists claim it usually, or almost always, means an internal striving to overcome our impurities and live a life pleasing to God. (You can find dozens of lectures online from Muslim scholars to this effect.) And yet, tens of thousands (or more) of Muslims, and indeed almost all of the Muslims from the first four centuries of the Islamic era, interpret it as meaning a physical fighting in the cause of propagating Islam around the world. In fact, everyday you can find Muslims either killing others or blowing themselves up based on these Quranic verses.

What's the truth? As some of you know, I've studied Islam both academically and on my own since about 1995. I've taken sides on both spectrum of this debate.* How you interpret jihad will really depend on what you want to prove. Western and western-influenced Muslims will certainly not want to see the ugly reality of jihad. On the other hand, those desiring to expose Islam will focus on the later "revelations" of Muhammad in which you'll find many of the verses to fight and subdue unbelievers. Well, for anyone who's interested in this subject, and if you're not interested, I suggest you become so, considering that one out of every five human beings on the planet is a Muslim, I've found an excellent and objective evaluation and listing of the Quran's verses and ahadith that deal specifically with jihad. Although it's from a Christian website, it lists only the Quranic verses in chronological order AND a reputable Muslim scholar's (Yusef Ali" comments on the verses.

You can find it here.

* In my twenties, I was very sympathetic to Islam, even wishing to convert a couple of times. However, it was always the violence which turned me away.

Reflections on Islam

2009-01-05T18:15:00.000-08:00

This is by no means a finished post or product, but I wanted to briefly state some of my reflections on my study of Islam, the Quran, and Muhammad.

Becoming a Muslim is not so much a matter of believing or having faith in the Source of the Universe; rather it's having faith that whatever was talking to and through Muhammad was actually the voice of the Creator. According to Muslims, the archangel Gabriel was speaking the words from God. Muhammad then replicated them exactly, and this is what today's Quran is: the unadulterated word of God. Therefore, the inquiry must began at a close scrutiny of Muhammad's life, since when one becomes a Muslim, one is actually putting one's faith in Muhammad, not in God.

Throughout the history of Islam and in Muhammad's own time many people asked him for some kind of sign or miracle. After all, if one is a mouthpiece for the Creator, one must offer some kind of proof or evidence. Moses parted the Red Sea and Jesus healed countless people, raised two from the dead, and even, according to Christians, but not Muslims, resurrected himself from the dead. Muhammad, on the other hand, never performed any miracles. He claimed his revelation, the Quran, was his miracle and that none could replicate it. Indeed, it's the cornerstone of Muslim apologetics (the defense of a religion) that nobody can produce a work superior to the Quran.

Muslims call it the "inimitability of the Quran" and challenge people to produce a work similar to it. I find this whole line of argumentation totally unconvincing and, quite frankly, absurd. I've studied the arguments from the Muslims and they just aren't persuasive. First of all, the Quran was revealed piecemeal over 22 years. Given this amount of time, is the Quran really that amazing? Twenty-two years? That's along time to write a book. Second of all, the number of fluent Arabic speakers in the world is about three percent of the world's population, so this challenge leaves out 97% of the world's possible applicants. Thirdly, the whole test is obviously subjective. No Muslim would ever admit that the contending work was better, as that would be akin to apostasy, a charge demanding the death penalty according to Islamic law. Fourthly, while there are beautiful verses in the Quran, as there are in the Bible, the Upanisads, the Dhammapada, the Bahai scriptures, etc. there's also a lot of incoherent, context-less narratives and completely irrelevant details of Muhammad's personal life, which have no bearing on the rest of humanity. (I'll be happy to post them if anyone wishes.) In fact, without the traditions of the prophet (ahadith) compiled around 200 years after his demise, the Quran is totally unintelligible. There's no narrative or chronology or dating. Is this really the best the creator of the Heavens and Earth could do? There's not a better book possible? Consider this whole chapter of the Quran:

In the Name of God, the Compassionate, the Merciful
LET the hands of ABU LAHAB perish,and let himself perish!
His wealth and his gains shall avail him not.
Burned shall he be at the fiery flame,
And his wife laden with fire wood,--
On her neck a rope of palm fibre.

There's a whole chapter of God's Most Holy book dedicated to cursing one of Muhammad's enemies! How's this relevant to the other billions and billions of humans that've lived in died in the past 1400 years? Consider Jesus' or Buddha's reaction to an archenemy. How is it relevant? Don't mess with Muhammad! That's the message loud and clear.

You can't read one single page of the Quran without coming across condemnations and tirades and threats of doom. It's really quite shocking the amount of threats of damnation there are in this text. Allah is said to be the "Most Compassionate, the Most Merciful" -- on one condition, and one condition only: if you accept Muhammad and worship Allah alone. Does this amount to real compassion? You can find many similarities between Allah and Kim Jong Il. "Everything is wonderful, fine, and peaceful, as long as you submit to me, obey, don't ask too many questions, then I'll take care of you."

Islam is a religion of peace? It is. Absolutely -- If you're a Muslim and if you obey Islamic Law. What happens if you don't convert to Islam and you're living under Islamic Law? Good question, I recommend looking it up. Is North Korea a country of peace? Sure, if you're living there and you don't break any laws.

That's all I have for now. I would definitely recommend those ignorant of Islam to read it's original sources. Don't read anti-Islamic polemics (or do, just make sure they're using the original sources and not distorting the context) and don't read the sugar-coated biographies of the prophet that Muslims write, because they withhold or censor all of the unsavory bits of the prophet's life... and there's plenty of that. And forget about Karen Armstrong's biography of Muhammad.

Original Sources are:

Quran
Sahih Bukhari Hadith
Sahih Muslim Hadith
Sirat Rasool Allah by Ibn Ishaq (the oldest and most reliable biography of Muhammad. This is an abridged online version.)

You can make up your own mind after reading these whether or not Muhammad spoke the words of the God and whether Islam is a religion of peace.

Books I'm Reading

2008-12-30T17:44:00.000-08:00

What I'm reading now:

Open Mind, Open Heart by Thomas Keating. Keating is a Benedictine priest and monk who's famous for popularizing the Centering Prayer. He's the reason I ever looked into Christianity after I had disposed of it in my early 20s. After reading Keating I realized the immensly rich and wonderful tapestry of devotion, prayer, and "practice" that's been in the Christian tradition for over a thousand years. I also realized there'a deeper truths to the Gospels than a literal, surface reading of the text.

The Bell Jar by Sylvia Plath. I rarely read fiction. This is slow going, though I enjoy her prose.

The Hidden Face of God: How Science Reveals the Ultimate Truth by Gerald Schroeder. Haven't started this one yet, so no comments.

Letters to a Young Catholic by George Weigel. Fabulous book.

I'm also reading various books about Islam and the Quran. The Quran is an incredible text, especially when it's heard in Arabic and one reads along with the translation. The best translation is by MAS Abdel Haleen and published by Oxford University Press. It's actually an enjoyable read and format. Many translations are horribly unpleasant to read.

The Bible. Especially the Gospels.

The Teaching Company is an amazing resource. I downloaded a number of courses: Saint Augustine's Confessions, Paul the Apostle, and Bach's music. They have courses on everything from Religion to Economics to Dante's Inferno to Biochemistry. Definitely check out their website here.

There's also a number of books I always tap into for inspiration: Byron Katie's books, The Imitation of Christ, Practicing the Presence of God, etc.

Undefeated

2008-12-30T17:10:00.000-08:00

I forgot to mention it, but two weekends ago, I entered my first major table tennis tournament, sponsored by Kim Ki-Tek in order to celebrate the five-year anniversary of his club, at which I play. There were about 43 people who entered. We were divided into teams of three. The tournament lasted from 1 to 9 pm. Our team advanced through 4 rounds and ended up winning the whole tournament. Not only that, but I had the best record, winning seven matches and losing zero -- undefeated. This was quite a shock to me. Mr. Kim was surprised at how well I did. People generally don't play well during tournaments due to nervousness. I almost lost my first match because I was so nervous, but after that, I felt relaxed and confident all the way through to the final. We received a special Butterfly rubber which costs about $70 for first place

I attribute my win to the defensive style in which I play which gives people a lot of trouble. There were much better players than me for sure. Some of the people are semi-profesional. The reason I was able to "beat" them was due to the handicap given according to my ranking.

The photo is of Kim Ki-Tek on the left, my partners, and myself. We're holding our prizes.

Three Breaths Poetry Format

2008-12-21T21:54:00.000-08:00

I made up a new format for poetry. I call it three breaths. Laying awake one night when I should've been sleeping, I determined that in an average exhale one can utter about fifteen syllables before having to inhale again. I originally got the idea of time and breath from my friend Josh Russell who's somewhat of a creative genius. He released a whole cd of experimental electronic music using breathing to time the tracks. Clock-time is also so "been there done that". New ways to measure time, especially one as inimate and ordinary as breathing, interests me for some strange reason.

Three is a kind of sacred, meaningful number. So I decided to divide up each stanza into three lines of five syllables, which incorporates the sacred and provides a tidy format, aesthetically pleasing to read. This also allows the three breaths to be segmented into three terse stanzas.

I also like short and to-the-point poetry. I don't know jack about poetry, to be honest. I don't much care to study it. I'm not even sure I'd call my writing poetry, lest it offend some of those with a finer sensibility for the art. I prefer to call my writing verbal sketches.

At any rate, I'm pleased with the format and the syllable constraints which makes composing these sketches a little more challenging and fun. Finally, as a rhyming scheme, and this is subject to change, I've decided to have the last syllable of the first stanza should rhyme with the fifth syllable of the second stanza and so on for the third stanza. So it looks like this:

blah blah blah blah blah
blah blah blah blah blah
blah blah blah blah bloh

blah blah blah blah snow
blah blah blah blah blah
blah blah blah blah blee

blah blah blah blah skee
blah blah blah blah blah
blah blah blah blah blah

Comments and suggestions welcome! Help me to improve the format. You can find my first three-breaths masterpiece at inexhaling.blogspot.com!

My new blog: in (ex) hale

2008-12-15T19:34:00.000-08:00

I started (yet) another blog. Occasionally I feel inspired to write what might be called poetry. I've written poem-like things for years. I'll begin to publish them occasionally here. I love the challenge of finding hidden images and words to create an new experience. My "Joe" blog is pretty mundane stuff. In (ex) hale will be more creative and experimental.

http://inexhaling.blogspot.com/

Revisiting Bamiyan

2008-12-15T17:05:00.000-08:00

Carvings, blows, gashes, chisels, the side of a cliff --
allegedly "Buddhas". A thousand years old, yes.
Apparently non-transitory, seemingly solid, with an essence,
a rock-buddha essence, so many held.

How compassionate, then, the Taliban were
in illustrating ol' Gautama's teaching:
"All is unsatisfactory...without an essence... transitory."

I imagine the Buddha smiling in the Unbound, calm, serene,
as the projectile explodes a piece of his stone-buddha body:
Annica shown, annata apparent, dukkha well-known

As the rocks cascade from the mountain face,
the desert-dwelling men below
bellow Allah-u-akbar,
Allah-u-akbar their god is greater. Great indeed.

Buddha-sympathisers around the globe observed
dumbfounded, angry, and confused
after pieces of cliff came piling down
even as Gautama himself was obviously
smiling down on the whole affair

But as for me, I celebrated, securing my refuge in the Triple Gem
thankful that even angry, confused men
confirmed the Thus-Gone's teachings:
annica seen, annata well-known, dukkha shown.

----------------------

Note on the terminology:
Annica = ever-changing, annata = non-essence or non-self, dukkha = unsatisfactoriness, stress, suffering. These concepts comprise the core of the Buddha's teaching -- namely, that all phenomena, everyhing in the universe, including gods, men, planets, atoms, and Oreos are these three.

Loving What Is -- Must Read

2008-12-14T22:27:00.000-08:00

I'm reading Loving What Is again by Byron Katie. In my estimation it may be one of the most important books ever written. I know that sounds ludicrous. And I may change my mind later, but reading Byron Katie and doing her Work is like taking more and more weight out of the backpack I've been lugging around my whole life. Today I did the Work on teaching, my purpose in life, and my family. What I discovered was that it was me and me alone creating all the stress. What a relief and what a surprise.

I've written both praise and criticism of BK. My criticisms were philosophical in nature... in other words, useless, unless you're interested in philosophy. I enjoy that occasionally. My praises are grounded in real life and how the Work does transform people. And it does it without metaphysical baggage (religious beliefs), membership to a church, money, statues, amulets, resurrecting gods, jealous desert-dwelling gods, reincarnation, or deities who look like elephants. The Work is completely free. You do it alone and you find out you're your own guru.

"When I argue with reality I lose -- but only 100% of the time."

Success: a quote by Byron Katie

2008-12-14T22:23:00.000-08:00

Many of us are motivated by a desire for success. But what is success? What do we want to achive? We do only three things in life: we stand, we sit, we lie horizontal. Once we've found success, we'll still be sitting somehwere, until we stand, and we'll stand until we lie down or sit again. Sucess is a concept, an illusion. Do you want the $3900 chair instead of the $39 one? Well, sitting is sitting. Without a story, we're successful wherever we are.

-- Byron Katie, Loving What Is. Page 105

All Together Now

2008-12-09T19:42:00.001-08:00

Before coming to Korea I'd heard that one of the major differences between "western" culture (whatever that means, as if there were one western culture) and far eastern culture was that the westies are individualists and while the easterners tend to stick in groups. While I'm not a big fan of cultural generalizations, man, this one is true to the core. Here are two funny examples that I've discovered recently.

1. I play table tennis in a small basement with six tables crammed close together. Every thirty seconds or so someone else's ball comes bouncing by your feet or across your table. If their ball came your way, they're sure to follow. I've gotten used to it now -- hitting a smash while some old guy's picking up his ball under my feet. Occasionally people get whacked in the head with the racket but no biggie.

What's funny is that if I have to go down three tables to pick up my ball, my partner on the other side of the table will follow. That means he has to disturb all the other players by walking behind them. I should likewise follow him if he has to pick up a ball, which I don't, and which confirms their suspicions that I'm one of those individualistic, cold westerners.

2. Lunch is a riot. Five people sit together. They all check each other out during dining to see how each one's progressing. (Don't want to be left behind) When the boss or the oldest guy finishes, everyone either starts cramming all their food in their mouth, or more likely, they shovel it into one big heap on their tray, which means they're ready to go. The silent girl I sit with is a slow eater, and everyday she only makes it through about half of her lunch before her boss is finished. When he starts finishing up, she shovels the food like mad so that he won't have to wait for her.

Oh Sang Eun

2008-12-03T18:44:00.000-08:00

Last weekend was the "Korea Super League" table tennis championships. Suki and I attended. I got to watch a few of my favorite players: Oh Sang Eun, Joo Se Hyuk, Kim Kyung Ah, and Park Mi Young. All of them are top-ranked pros, although nobody outside of the weird little subculture of ping pong would know it! This is a photo of Oh Sang Eun and me. He won the bronze medal during the last olympics. Another funny thing: apparently, the TV cameras zoomed in on me a few times during the games, so everyone at my club was telling me they saw me on TV -- the only white face in the crowd. The TV commentators assumed I was from Germany, since the Germans are pretty fanatical about TT.

I Love PC: Teaching Side by Side

2008-12-03T17:20:00.000-08:00

Side by Side is an old classic ESL book, at least here in Korea. I like it because it presents the grammar in the context of many conversations which the students practice. It's very much focused on conversation and talking, as opposed to writing and reading, which I find too much of in other books.

But there's a quirky thing about Side by Side. It's the most ultra politically correct book I've ever laid eyes on, even to the point of making me chuckle out loud in class.

It's all illustrated. The illustrator chose to use an almost exact equal proportion of blacks, whites, Hispanics, and Asians. He usually has women in the place of high positions (doctors, managers, CEOs). In fact, the illustration for a "doctor" was a woman, while the picture for a "nurse" was a man. My students were obviously confused, as was I, since the pictures look almost the same. The fact of the matter is most doctors are men, while most nurses are women. I'd think the book would choose to portray reality so as to most effectively communicate the ESL concept as opposed to creating a PC utopia.

Another really amusing tidbit is there are a lot of burglars and thieves in these books, for whatever reason.(I often wonder why this theme comes uo so much.) And guess what? ALL of them are white! I counted more than 15 pictures for thieves and all of them were white.

And finally, every chapter has a disabled person. In chapter 10, the disabled person is the boss, of course.

I've been teaching this book for more than a year now and the more I teach it, the more I notice these kinds of goofy things. However, one very un-PC aspect of this series of books is that the author left out Arabs and Muslims. I only found once instance of a Muslim in all of the texts.

I'm looking forward to the updated version of Side by Side with Abduallah, Muhammad, and Aisha going to the Mosque to feed the poor people while Haji, the CEO, writes out checks for New Orleans charities.

A Meeting with Opus Dei

2008-11-16T21:42:00.000-08:00

You remember that secret Catholic organization, the bad guys in the Divinci Code? Opus Dei. Well, I met with them on Thursday of last week. And let me tell you, did we do some strange things.

No, not really. Opus Dei is nothing more than a part of the Church that's serious about their faith. Their founder, Father Josemaria Escriva, was canonized as a saint by John Paul II. I have great respect for Opus Dei. In my opinion, if you believe something, or claim that you believe something, your actions should follow. In other words, if you're really a Christian, this belief should have some serious consequences for your life. But enough preaching, let me get back to the evening.

It took place in an elegant chapel in Hannamdong, Seoul. About a dozen of us sat on the pews while someone read for ten minutes from Saint Escriva's writings. The subject was prayer. We then prayed, oddly enough. The priest talked for fifteen minutes on loving the world and how the world is good, and if it's not, it's our responsibility to do something about it. This was followed by thirty minutes of silence and reconciliation, which is reflecting on our recent thoughts, words, and actions.

Another talk by the priest on joy, a brief benediction of the blessed sacrament, and the evening concluded. My favorite part was the Gregorian chanting at the end.

I thoroughly enjoyed the Evening of Recollection. It was somber, quiet, reflective, and even joyous, in a quiet, inward bubbling way. It felt sacred... even, dare I say, holy.

--------------------------------------

For my readers who aren't aware of this, I'm a kind of schizophrenic Buddhist-Catholic. I can't explain it or justify it. All that I can say is that I find great things in both religions.

Stabat Mater

2008-11-16T21:14:00.000-08:00

In my first table tennis tournament in Korea I made it to the final round in which I was roundly beaten by a semi-professional player. It was quite a surprise to me, not to mention all twenty-five of the Koreans in the tournament, to see whitey in the final. It was my sports moment of glory -- club members were gathered around us, cheering and clapping every point. Some of them even seemed to be pulling for me, since I was clearly the underdog. I did take a game and gave my opponent a run for the money on the other three games, but I was no match for him in the end. After it was over, I think I garnered respect from my club members -- I heard congratulations and well-played many times and people shook my hand.

Saturday evening Insook, Youngsook, her sister, and I went out for beef BBQ and soju. After a couple bottles of the Korean moonshine, we went to the karaoke room and belted out some tunes. My favorite to sing is One by U2. I go all out on this one, usually knocking out my voice, so that I can barely sing on the next songs.

Love is a temple,
love the higher law,
you asked me to enter,
and then you make me crawl,
well, I can't keep holding on
to what you got
when all you got is hurt

This is the part that kills the vocal chords. After knowing more about Bono, his sincerity, integrity, all the work he does for the less fortunate of us who happen to have been born in Africa, and his strong Christian faith, I have an enormous amount of respect for him, and I read his lyrics with new insight and appreciation.

Sunday I went to the big bookstore in Seoul to pick up a new read and CD. I bought Pergolesi's Stabat Mater, a baroque masterpiece of sacred music. Listening to it while reading the translated lyrics from Latin into English was an emotional experience for me. It's about Mary, standing in front of the crucified Jesus, her son. It starts off like this:

At the cross her station keeping,
Stood the mournful Mother weeping,
Close to Jesus to the last.

I've been into the sacred Catholic music for some time. I purchased Haydn, Mozart, and Bach's masses. I'm also a big fan of Bach's Cantatas. It's amazing that I've only recently discovered this music. After all, it's been around for over 200 years! It's the first music that I've felt excited in a long time. Well, except for The National, which is the only band that's recently made an impression on me.

Lost in My Sleep

2008-11-11T20:48:00.000-08:00

Almost every night I have dreams of being somewhere unfamiliar or in transition. It's an uncomfortable feeling. I'm often in airplanes flying from Korea to the US or vice-versa. I'm in lands I've never known before and couldn't even describe. I dreamt last night of coming home to Michigan to see my mother. I cried hard in my dream, because I miss my mom and home so much. My wife asked me the next morning about it -- she witnessed my contorted face while I was sleeping sans the tears.

The interesting thing is I don't know what to call home anymore, which makes this whole situation that much stranger and pathetic. Since I was eighteen, I haven't had a home. I've lived in Germany, in three separate locations. After graduating from University, I moved west to San Diego, where I moved a total of five times in six years. Then I flew to Korea. In Korea I've moved six times in less than four years. Is it any wonder I feel ungrounded and uprooted?

Lately my heart aches for home. I'm not even thinking about it that much, since I'm so damn busy lately, my own fault, of course. I get home from work at 5:30, scarf down dinner, lay down for 20 minutes to relax, and then I'm off to the table tennis club, sweating it out until I arrive back home at 10:30. A glass of wine, some crackers, and it's nighty-night.

Get up the next day, do it again. Weekends are even busier.

But as much as I want to bury and forget about my feelings, they harass during the night. I need to find more time to sit and just be still, allowing whatever is percolating under the surface to rise up. I'm tired of being lost in my sleep.

We Alone - Poem

2008-11-10T20:39:00.001-08:00

Trudy Bengivenni, Joseph's mother, sent this poem in an email. I'm generally not a big fan of poety, but I loved this one!

We Alone by Alice Walker

We alone can influence the price of gold
By not caring whether it falls or rises
In the market place.

Wherever there is gold,
there is a chain, you know.
And if your chain is gold,
So much the worse for you.

Feathers, shells and sea-shaped stones,
All are as rare.

This could be our revolution -
To love what's plentiful
As much as what is scarce!

Video of my TT Coach

2008-11-04T22:44:00.000-08:00

Found an old video of my TT coach, Kim Ki-Tek. He's the guy in the blue uniform. The guy in the green went on to win the gold and now he's head coach of the Korean National Team. Poor Mr. Kim's got a rundown little basement TT club and he's teaching housewives how to hit a forehands.

Safe Dog and Pong Madness

2008-11-02T22:03:00.000-08:00

Friday I bought some snacks and headed to the park again to see if the dog was still there. And he was -- soggy and wet but glad to see me, though he didn't seem to like the snacks all that much.

Determined to help the little bugger I picked him up on Saturday and took him to the shelter, which is supposed to be good, but who knows. It's about one mile away from the famous dog market, where you can see pooches being butchered and awaiting their fates in tiny, metal cages. Luckily for my dog, he's too small for the dog soup-lovers to pay much attention to him.

My wife more or less ruled out taking the dog home with us. She's afraid of dogs (don't ask). Many Koreans are. I don't know why this is, but it wouldn't be easy for her to live with a dog in a studio apartment. Nevertheless, I told her I'm not letting him die. She kind of agreed, but we'll see if it comes to that. I'm having her call once a week to check up on him.

I was excited for Sunday all week: professional table tennis match in my area! Some of the world's top players would be there. My favorite, Joo Se Hyuk, was supposed to play, but his match was cancelled. I talked to him a bit, got his autograph, and a picture. Ryu Seung Min, the gold medalist in 2004, played. These guys are amazing to watch in person. I don't know why this sport is not more popular. It takes an incredible amount of athleticism, skill and training. Their legs are massive. Since I've been playing so much, my legs have also noticeably increased and I now sport buns of steel. My sister-in-law noticed when she came to visit. Who would've thought you could get such nice legs playing ping pong?

I brought along my buddies 300mm zoom lens -- I'll soon be posting pictures from the event.

What is Anger -- Really?

2008-10-29T22:38:00.000-07:00

Last night I had a great opportunity to work with emotions, to train this unruly mind. The Buddha gave various methods for working with the mind, but the one I like the most is simply observing the emotion and thought-content with dispassionate awareness. This is the foundation of meditation, but it can be quite dull when nothing exciting is happening, like when you're sitting on the cushion observing your the sensations of the breath going in and out. However, when a tidal wave of anger arises, wow, what a great time to see what's really happening!

As I mentioned my wife and I got into a minor squabble which angered the hell out of me, because she couldn't see my point of view. The actual story is completely irrelevant. It doesn't matter why you're angry. What matters is the fact of anger arising as an unpleasant energy which takes possession of your body and mind.

The Buddha taught to observe the emotion like a scientist -- Zen folks ask "What is this?" What is this anger really? Approach it like that, drop the story, and see what it really is. I promise you it's very interesting.

It's hard to describe the raw feeling of anger, just as it's hard to describe the taste of an orange. Unless you've gone into anger before, you don't know what it is. We've all been angry; rarely do we really experience what anger really is.

And what is it? An intensly, uncomfortable energy that you want to get off and out of you as soon as possible. That's why we explode. We don't want to experience it. We want to throw at someone else like a hot potato.

Last night while walking through the park, I dropped the thoughts and just felt the raw experience. For the first two minutes, it was very uncomfortable and the self-justifying "I'm right" thoughts kept trying to take over, but they were denied access. I was much more interested in the what of anger than the why. Here's the cool part: after those few minutes of discomfort, the intense heavy, constricting, and dark energy suddenly opened and I smiled. The metaphor of clouds disappearing to reveal the blue sky works quite well to describe this.

But don't take my word for it -- really try it. Try to see what anger really is. We all have many opportunities everyday.

An Emotional Breakdown and a Vow

2008-10-29T18:48:00.001-07:00

A torrent of tears opened, losing muscular control, I collapsed on the cold, hardwood floor in a wailing mess of self-pity, anger, and resignation. This was an emotional breakdown I haven't experienced in a long time. At least I had enough grace not to topple my Budweiser which on the way down was miraculously, gently placed, while these heavy, sorrow-laden limbs dropped unceremoniously.

What precipitated this? you're probably wondering.

A small dog.

Life can unfold in unpredictable ways and some events point far beyond themselves, representing whole worlds and universes of thought and meaning.

The unusual preceding of events started with my office being taken over by coworkers who needed it for a conference call. Annoyed by this intrusion into my personal space I told them that I would be taking a long and early lunch. It was 11:00 am. I decided to explore the area around which I work. I drove to the mountains about two kilometers away and found a nice park on the side of a hill: peaceful and quiet, the perfect place to relax for an hour. I sat cross-legged on a wooden bench. Then Vajrasattva showed up.

This was the name I chose for him. Vajrasattva is a Buddha of purification, one of the tantric pantheon in Himalayan Buddhism. About a year ago I dreamt about a dog named Vajrasattva, so I decided I'd name my new stray friend that. After about ten minutes of sniffing me, he decided I was alright and we played together for half an hour. Then I walked off down the hill to check out some Buddhist temples, which are strewn randomly throughout all of Korea's mountains. He's not interested in temples, I suppose, so he ran off somewhere else. After exploring, I came back thirty minutes later, wondering if my new friend would be waiting for me, or if he scampered off somewhere else. I had already been thinking I'd like to take him home or feed him or something. He seemed hungry and I wasn't sure how long he'd been stray.

As I walked back up the steep hill, he was waiting for me and jumped and raced around excitedly as little dogs do. Still sniffing my hands, legs, and pockets, he must've been convinced I was hiding a treat somewhere.

We spent some more time together. But eventually I had to go back to work, which required sneaking into my car and leaving him there. This was difficult, since he wouldn't leave my side. Eventually I casually walked over, slouched into the black vinyl seat, and carefully closed the door. I waited for a couple of minutes. I saw he was looking around for me, smelling, looking up into the sky -- obviously distraught and confused.

For ten long minutes I watched the poor little guy wander all around; he even started howling. By this time tears were streaming down my cheeks as I imagined him alone, with nobody to care for or feed him. I could, but I chose not to. I resented myself for not stepping up and taking care of him. I felt that I'd betrayed the little bugger. With this whole strange turn of events, it almost seemed I'd landed there to help him.

During that ten or fifteen minutes of sitting silently in the car watching him scamper about, I pondered over and over again: should I take him with me? Reasons for and against twisted this heart into knots. Slowly and reluctantly I finally drove off.

What was the big deal? Why was I so upset? I imagined all of the other beings who are suffering like this puppy or even worse, who are being abused and tortured right now, by us; every pig, cow, and chicken waiting in tiny cages, without love or compassion, being treated not as living beings, but as products to be later mindlessly consumed by over-fed humans. I also imagined all of the people who are being abandoned right now by friends or relatives they trust or abused by loved ones.

Later when I came home in a foul mood my wife and I fought over nothing. A couple of hours later I found myself in a bar alone, something only done a few times in my life. After a Beam and three lagers, I headed home, seething and miserable. In the outdoors bathroom on the way home, I stopped to piss and noticed dead creatures (dragonflies and other insects) strewn about like litter on the floor and window sill.

This life is a kind of hell. We live in a hell-realm and don't even realize it. Everything is decaying and dieing. We're the passengers on the Titanic, dancing and drinking while the ship submerges into the infinite, oceanic void.

It's thoughts like these that will crumple a six-foot frame onto a hard wood floor in a blubbering mess. Thoughts like these drive one to drink. Thoughts like these can destroy a man -- or, hopefully, lift him to new heights of courage and compassion.

It's this latter outcome which I strive for. Wishing for safety and well-being of all living beings is at the heart of the Buddhist path. Recognizing our dire predicament, realizing every living creature wishes to be safe and happy, and taking the responsibility to do something about it -- this is the path of a Bodhisattva.

I'm happy to report that the night ended with Insook and I content and animatedly talking about change in our lives for the better. Before drifting off to sleep, my heart recited again and again:

As long as space endures
As long as beings remain
may I too remain
To dispel the miseries of the world.

-- Shantideva Way of a Bodhisattva

Table Tennis Addict and Great Video

2008-10-27T22:40:00.000-07:00

I've become a table tennis fanatic, playing around 10 - 15 hours a week. I'd play more if I could, but alas, I have to work. I stopped taking lessons with the former olympic medalist, since the language barrier was too much, as was the price of the lessons.

I now have a total of five paddles. Two of them are not so good. The latest one is made with carbon layers, giving it more power and less vibration. One side of rubber sets you back around $40 these days. They're super high-tech, utilizing chemistry's latest wizardry.

Here's one of my favorite players, Joo Se Hyuk. He's from Korea. I think you'll enjoy this video. He's a perfect example of what's possible playing in the defensive style, which is what I'm training in lately. In fact, I even have his racket made by Butterfly.

A Follower of the Dharma

2008-10-23T18:40:00.001-07:00

Driving through Seoul traffic, I found myself reflecting on what it means to be a Buddhist. I have a problem identifying myself as a Buddhist for various reasons, which I won't go into here, because I want to focus on some of the fruits gathered during this particular reflection.

The word "Dharma" has various shades of meaning. The Truth and the Law are two shades of meaning.* One may not be so much a "Buddhist" as a follower of the Dharma. If the Dharma is the Truth or the Law (of the way things are) then one does not necessarily really belong to a particular religion, in this case, Buddhism. One is simply a follower of the way things are. Of course, this begs the question of who determines the "way things are".

This begging-of-the-question brings me to the second contemplation, and that is Buddha, for the most part, didn't teach anything too controversial, at least not in my opinion. His conclusions square completely with science and the truths we've uncovered through the humanities (sociology, psychology, etc.). Many of us have discovered that all things are transient and always changing. We know that things aren't really things at all but rather interdependent processes coming together and disintegrating according to various natural laws. And it doesn't take a genius to realize that putting all your happiness-eggs into the basket of transient, disintegrating "things" will inevitably lead to suffering and unhappiness. Furthermore, psychologically we can discern that the more we cling and desire, the less peace we have. You can investigate for yourself the next time a desire arises for anything. How does it feel to desire? What sensations appear? Desire is experienced as a proverbial thorn in the side. When you don't want anything, you're happy and at ease. This becomes clear after spending time observing the process of desire arising, desire being fulfilled, and the absence of desire at all.

The moral precepts, which are the foundation of the Buddha's teaching, are hardly controversial, and as such, qualify as being the Law. According to the Law, when you break the precepts or Law, you suffer; and so it goes that breaking the five precepts almost always leads to suffering. On the flipside of things, cultivating the opposite of the precepts, namely: generosity, kind speech, preserving lives, ingesting healthy substances, and treating the sexual impulse with respect brings one a lot of happiness and peace.

Karma is one of the Buddha's key teachings as well. Karma, from the perspective of this life, is blatantly obvious. It's obvious that where you stand now is the direct result of all the choices you've made in your life. How you react to your current situation will determine your future status. This is karma. As far as past and future lives are concerned, this teaching is not obvious and one needs to use reasoning and faith to come to a conclusion about whether or not the Buddha was correct in his teaching about rebirth.

So, in wrapping up this essay, I feel that you don't have to be religious to be a Buddhist. Even being a Buddhist is a statement fraught with assumptions: the assumption that Buddhism is best classified as a religion, the assumption that there is one, fairly static thing called "Buddhism", etc. What if you conceive of being one who's in accord with the way things are? How does it feel to try on that conception? I kind of like it. I view the Buddha as more akin to a scientist who discovered the way things work and how to navigate through the flow of life without being burned. (He certainly was no prophet receiving divine revelations, the sort of which one must believe on faith alone, lest one become thrown into the "fire which whose fuel is men and stones").** He showed how to maximize true enjoyment (sukha) and the pitfalls of living an undisciplined and hedonistic lifestyle. On a higher level, he sublimely pointed out the way we create subtle suffering with our ignorance of the three marks of existence and the psychological discomfort of associating any phenomena as "me" or "mine".

I am one who follows the dharma, the way things are -- I like that. It rings more true with me than declaring myself a follower of one of the world's major religions.

*In Korean, Dharma is "Beop" which means "Law"
** The Quran 2:8

Already Forgotten

2008-10-20T20:35:00.000-07:00

I lean forward in a black leather, executive chair at a large, comfortable particle board desk, scarfing down multi-grain flakes out of a shallow, white plastic bowl. I'm shoveling a spoon into my mouth that's too small, but it's the only one I could find in the office kitchen. I don't taste the flakes or the mix of soy and cow milk. My body just craves food, and I read these penetrating words:

In these hot and noisy days, I long for shade and shadows. I am pulled to the river, the endless promise of renewal and transformation. But here, in the American jungle, it is hot and wet and itchy and prickly. So, we work.

I wash feet.

The homeless people here have such battered and unspeakable feet, so abused by the unforgiving pavement and the rocks along the railroad tracks. Their feet get filthy and cut and blistered. So, I wash their feet and nurse them and cut the nails and put on dry, clean socks. We try to collect used shoes.

This will not change the world. But I do know this; it changes a day in a life. And perhaps this is all we have. This and the promise of the river, flowing even this minute, the endless flow of water over stones.

So much beautiful writing on the web. I consume it ferociously like a starved dog, like these flakes, and just as soon as it's disappeared down my gullet, I forget about it. It's gone: cigarette smoke being sucked out of a cracked car-window on the freeway. All of those words and ideas will be -- are -- forgotten.

I move onto the next blog and gorge myself with more.

I read holy texts like CNN headlines. Get it down and quick. Digest. Burp. Finished.

Already forgotten.

The quote is from here.

If there's a Pure Land, it's always Autumn there

2008-10-18T23:55:00.000-07:00

Seoul traffic is like an iron-clad tractor beam that won't let you escape. Starting in the southern burbs, you inch your car slowly away from the ten-million-strong monster. The further away you drive, the faster you go, until you finally break the 100 KPH mark. You can expect a good hour to pass before you're on your way.

The drive west though Gangwon-Do is nice enough: foothills break into mountains, mountains morph into craggy peaks stolen from ancient Chinese ink paintings. They're all dressed in Autumn hues swimming in an ice-blue sky. It's beautiful enough to break your heart. If there's a Pure Land, it's always Autumn there.

We finally arrive at our condo, a five-story, nondescript cement rectangle with construction crews and noise to greet us. Insook's student is the volleyball coach of the corporate team, EX, which owns the building. He was generous enough to set the room up for us. We enter the room underwhelmed. Insook looks disappointed at the lack of a bed, while I'm more concerned about the sounds of traffic and construction. living in Korea has allowed me to appreciate quiet places, which are a rare commodity, and I often wonder what kind of hearing damage I'll suffer having lived here for four plus years. A six-lane road runs next to our apartment, and just out our front door we have stores all competing for customers. Apparently, they believe whoever plays the loudest music wins.

We wake up early Saturday. It's only five kilometers to the Seoraksan Park entrance, but it takes us thirty minutes to get there. We follow a single file line of what seems like thousands of cars and park in a sea of Hyundai and chattering Koreans, all dressed in hiking gear, complete with backpacks, trekking poles, and even some with bear bells. There are no bears in Korea. I figure they must simply like the noise. The bell rings with every step: ding, ding, ding. Here I am!

I'm grumpy as hell now. Towering peaks surround us decked in Autumn's finest, but who can enjoy this? To get to the park, we would have to board a packed bus and take it to the park entrance, Among the sea of people surrounding us, there's already a line for the bus, while some woman is yelling into a loudspeaker to buy her dried squid. This is hell. Time to go.

We get back into the car, inching our way out of Satan's Playground. We turn right at the East Sea and head south along the east coast. We stop at Naksansa, a nice temple on the coast, which is being rebuilt. There's a wonderful temple hall dedicated to Avalokiteshvara, the Bodhisattva of Compassion, with six different manifestations of him. A monk belts out the Bodhisattva's favorite tune: Kwan Se Um Bosal -- his name in Korean. I bow thrice and chant along.

After the temple, we drive back to Seoul following a different route. The best part of the trip came unexpectedly, which is often the case with travel. We found a stream gurgling along in a wide, flat riverbed. The rivers in Gangwon-Do are always strewn with granite boulders. I find a massive one shaped like a sofa and lay down on it, fitting perfectly into it. I release all my cares into this compassionate rock. Peace and happiness well up inside, and I think how wonderful it is to connect with nature. I realize how disconnected I am. My apartment is a cement shoe box on the eight floor. Every morning at 7:30 am I ride an elevator down to the B3 and drive my car to work. I ride the elevator up to the sixth floor where my office is. I spend 95% of my life in a cement box at least 100 feet off of the Earth. No wonder I feel disconnected. Even when I walk, it's on cement. I realize this and soak in the boulder-energy. I think, I want to spend my life in nature, surrounded by trees and rocks. Insook and reality are waiting for me, however, and I have to leave my new best friend Mr. Dol*, promising him that I'll return soon for another session.

*"Dol" means "stone" in Korean.

Many do not realize that we here must die

2008-10-13T18:38:00.000-07:00

Last night I started thinking about what makes a person. A person is really a fragile entity, one heartbeat away from being a non-person, from being a corpse. We're all one breath away from death. Everyone you know, I know, and ourselves will die. And soon. I can't believe I'm already thirty-four. I vividly remember being a child on a typical mid-western suburban street, High Street, of Dearborn, Michigan, lined with mid-century red brick houses, quaint square green lawns in front, and the obligatory Ford or GM car parked in the driveway. There was a boy who was older than me. I was in first grade at that time. He was fourteen. I thought, wow, that's old. I can't imagine being fourteen. Now, I look back and smile at the naivety and innocence from a span of twenty-seven years later.

Life is short, and we'll all be on our death beds before we know it. Is it macabre to have such thoughts? Absolutely not. It's foolish to pretend that we're immortal. There's an infinite gulf of blackness behind us, a brief span of life, an infinite gulf of blackness ahead of us. Imagine a black silence of one thousand years. A spark breaks the silence for a split second. That's us. What do we do with this realization?

For some reason it hit hard last night. I thought of all the fear I have of life, of other people, of being liked, and all the stupid little neurotic dramas that keep me from living life to the fullest. What would make this brief dance in the flesh worthwhile? That's what we all need to answer. I only have some outlines, some sketches of ideas that answer that question -- washes of color, no detail yet. The broad strokes suggest these themes: kindness, love, helping others, smiling, gratitude, and the joys of simply living. Why not? All of those empty complaints will mean nothing when "Joe" is no more, engulfed into the infinity of non-being.

I conclude with the B-man himself, who uttered the following:

Many do not realize that
we here must die.
For those who realize this,
quarrels end.

-- Dhammapada 1.4 trans. by Gil Fronsdal

How to know the Truth?

2008-10-12T18:11:00.000-07:00

If you want to understand the truth, the way things really are, where do you start? How do you find it? Do you rely on what others have said? Books? Science? Religions or Saviors?

If I were brought up in an environment in which nobody claimed to know or be the truth, I'd have to find it myself. And how would I look? First and most importantly, I'd recognize that the brain is processing all the information from the world. There's no way to really know what's outside of me, because all phenomena are known via the five senses and the mind. This much is clear. This is indisputable. Thus, it's a good starting point into the inquiry.

Next you have to understand the instrument through which "reality" comes to be known, which is what we call the mind. What I mean by mind is the processes of perceiving and the thoughts. These processes -- how mind shapes your reality -- must be observed as closely as possible and as disinterestedly as possible... because if you're expecting or wanting a certain outcome, you cannot be assured you arrived at a truth. You will only have arrived at a wish-fulfilled outcome or a projection of your own desires.

This dispassionate investigation of mind is the core of what the Buddha taught and how Buddhism works. The path is striving diligently to understand this mind and how all phenomena really are. The Buddha tells you how they are, but then you're invited to see for yourself. What he discovered is not really all that controversial and has been verified by science, which is: all phenomena are transient, ever-changing; they're unsatisfactory, because they're ever-changing, so you can't really keep them or rely on them. And finally, they're not-self, which is more difficult to explain, but it means a couple of things. One, no phenomena are "you". Two, no phenomenon has a sold core essence. There's no "book" in a book: there are sheets of compressed wood... binding glue... ink... but no "book". This is important because you realize that all things are really not as solid as they appear; all things are interconnected processes which come together due to certain conditions, after which they'll come apart due to certain conditions.

Is there thing in the world which is not like this?

Regardless of whether one follows Buddhism or not, the most important thing is to understand this instrument, the only instrument, through which reality becomes manifest.

All Experience is Preceded by Mind...

2008-10-08T22:15:00.000-07:00

All experience is preceded by mind, led by mind, and made by mind. Act or speak with a corrupted mind and suffering follows as the wagon wheel follows the hoof of an ox.

All experience is preceded by mind, led by mind, and made by mind. Act or speak with a peaceful mind, and happiness follows like a never-departing shadow.

So begins one of the greatest treasures of wisdom this world knows -- the Dhammapada, a collection of wisdom sayings from the fifth century BC by a man named Siddhartha Gautama, who everyone knows as the Buddha.

I just finished reading a lot of Islamic literature: the Quran and a biography of Muhammad, so what a pleasure it is to come back to the Dhammapada, a text which bespeaks of a worldview as different from Muhammad's as day is to night. I'll let you decide which is night and which is day.

What I love about this opening in the Dhammapada is that it's deeply profound, and it strikes at the main issue for all of us, which is, that our mind is what creates our suffering or happiness.

Act out of anger, regret, hostility, or hatred, and what will you get? More pain. It's simple. Act out of concern for others, love, and compassion, and you're sure to reap similar fruits.

Also, in this pithy verse, the Buddha's concept of karma is nicely illustrated . Karma is a wonderfully desciptive, practical, and deep teaching. While whole volumes can be written about it, let me attempt to smoosh it into the proverbial nutshell.

Your experience right now is the result of all you have done and thought about in your life. It contains others' actions as well; it's not like you're an isolated little island. You can change your karma right now too. Karma does not mean fate! Your present situation is the result of past karma (action) and how you're presently relating to that karma.

An example: last week you spoke ill of your boss and now it's gotten back to him, he calls you into your office, and let's you go. That's your karma. You earned it. However, you have complete control at that point of being fired. You can accept it with equanimity and realize your fault, which will bring you peace of mind, or you can tell him to go to hell, which will only increase the flames of hatred and anger in yourself and probably your boss as well.

This is how it works; we have a choice at every instant of our lives of how we will relate to events. You can't choose the cards dealt, but you can choose the reaction to those cards. And your choice will determine your future. Anger fuels anger -- love brings more love.

Hated never ends through hated
by non-hate alone does it end.
This is an ancient truth.

Sam Harris on Sarah Palin

2008-10-05T23:39:00.001-07:00

Sam Harris on Sarah Palin.

If you're not familiar with Sam Harris, I suggest you become so. He's an incredibly funny, astute, and intelligent voice on political and religious topics. Here's a piece on Sarah Palin I particularly enjoyed.

Let me confess that I was genuinely unnerved by Sarah Palin's performance at the Republican convention. Given her audience and the needs of the moment, I believe Governor Palin's speech was the most effective political communication I have ever witnessed. Here, finally, was a performer who—being maternal, wounded, righteous and sexy—could stride past the frontal cortex of every American and plant a three-inch heel directly on that limbic circuit that ceaselessly intones "God and country." If anyone could make Christian theocracy smell like apple pie, Sarah Palin could.

Read the rest here.

What's Good About Islam?

2008-10-03T19:14:00.000-07:00

I'm inspired by my conversations with Marcus to detail some of the positive aspects of Islam. Marcus sees nothing good whatsoever about the religion. While I'm apt to criticize it and often have, I do recognize some decent qualities of an Islamic life.

I've studied Islam since I was about 20. I majored in comparative religion. Islam was my central focus even though my adviser was a Tibetan Buddhist specialist. In fact, in my university we didn't even have a full-time Islam professor. We brought a guy from Michigan State to teach the course. Aside from this class, I took three courses in Middle Eastern history, all of which dealt with Islam.

My interest in Islam began when I was studying the Bahai Faith. Bahais claim that all the prophets (they include Buddha!) were sent by God to uplift humanity. Baha'u'allah was the most recent of them; he died in Palestine right before the 1900s.

In order to properly evaluate Bahai, one must conclude that the previous faiths were also "correct". So, I did my homework on Islam, because it was the one of which I was most sceptical. Thus, my search into Islam was not just curiosity or academic -- it was also inspired by a zeal to find the truth and the Creator's will, if there was such a thing.

The first time I heard a Quranic recitation, I was mesmorized. It was such a beautiful and haunting sound -- it was Al-Fatiha, the first sura in the Quran being chanted in the traditional way. I liked it so much that I memorized it and can chant it to this day. I realized why the Muslims put so much emphasis on the reciting and listening to the Quran -- the arabic recitation holds the magic, and more often than not over the 1400 years of Islamic history, the Quran has been heard chanted rather than read in a poor translation.

Throughout my twenties and even now I've gone through periods where I re-looked into the religion. I simple cannot let it rest, and now is a good time to detail briefly what I find appealing about it.

The Quran is very direct and clear. You can read any sura (there are 114 of them; think "chapters") and get the whole message of Islam, which is this: There is a one God and and Muhammad is a prophet; there will be a day of judgment; you must surrender to God and live a God-centered life; you must offer the five daily prayers, pay a charity tax (2.5% of your income goes to help the poor), fast during Ramadan, and go on the Hajj, the pilgrimage once in your life, if possible.

The Quran provides an absolute and indisputable basis for morality and way of life. It's a Muslim's Life Instruction Manual. In the west, many of us search for such a book but can't seem to find one. We revel in making up our own manuals ("I'll take a little of Nietzsche, mix it with some Zen, and add a dash of Tony Robbins"), which in my experience leads to isolation, self-absorption, selfishness, and hedonism. But, maybe that's just me.

Islam eradicates racism. Muhammad's farewell speech in 632 CE reads like a contemporary treatise on race. No race is better than another -- you're all equal before God. He specifically mentioned Arabs, whites, and blacks.

Women's Rights. Overall I find the general tone of Islam to better women's rights. I wrote a twenty page research paper on Islamic Feminism in my Women in Religion class. How should women dress according to the Quran? Modestly, which means cover the legs, most of the arms, and breasts. And guess what -- it's the same for men. The dress code is exactly the same. The hijab is a cultural accoutrement, and the Burqa has nothing to do with Islam.

A sacred and meaningful march of time. Every month has a theme, and there are many holy-days which bring the community together and give one an order and meaning to life. All religions have this ordering of life. It's completely absent in secular life in which time marches on year after year with nothing to mark it off into meaningful sections.

The centrality of God in life. God is central to a Muslim's life. Prayer must be offered five times a day; it's obligatory. One's forced to recognize his Source. Think for a moment of the psychological implications of bowing down and spending ten to fifteen minutes five times a day remembering and thanking the Creator of All?
Wouldn't life take on a different hue? What do we do now? Our lives are frittered away in one meaningless chore after another, day after day, year after. Many people never take even one moment to reflect on the bigger picture.

Dietary Laws. No alcohol - an excellent idea. No pork -- doesn't seem to matter much to us now, but back then, if you ate an undercooked piece of pork, you may pay with your life. Animals must be killed in relatively compassionate way, invoking God's name. In general animals are to be treated with respect in Islam. There are many times when Muhammad berated people for over-burdening animals and treating them cruelly.

I honestly have an alcohol problem. Even as a practicing Buddhist I couldn't muster up the motivation to give up the bottle. Certainly in a secular and Christian society, there's no reason to. Jesus was called a drunkard by his contemporaries! Those Christians who abstain from alcohol lack a biblical basis. We may consider that the first recorded miracle in the Gospels is Jesus turning water into wine at the Cana wedding! My kind of guy.

I'll end the essay with the opening of the Quran, called Al-Fatiha, which is recited many times everyday by 1.2 billion people:

In the Name of God, the Compassionate, the Merciful.
Praise belongs to God, Lord of the worlds
Ever Compassionate and Merciful
It is You we worship, it is You we ask for help.
Guide us to the straight path: the path of those you have blessed
those who incur no anger and who have not gone astray.

It wouldn't be a bad idea to become familiar with this book which is the basis of 205 of the Earth's inhabitants. My favorite translation is The Qur'an -- translated by M.A.S. Abdel Haleem: Oxford University Press. Some of the other translations are terrible to read; and Abdel Haleem gives an excellent and scholarly introduction.

Interview with US Defector to North Korea

2008-09-11T19:24:00.000-07:00

Interesting interview from a man who left the US Army during the Korean war and still lives there today.

http://www.guardian.co.uk/world/2008/sep/09/korea.usa

It's worth a read.

Blame it on the foreigners

2008-08-20T19:50:00.000-07:00

"Oh, that's why the people there spit so much and are rude -- because they're foreign workers; not because they're Korean."

I don't think my student caught my sarcasm, which is good, since he's a few steps up the pecking order in my company and he'd probably recommend to my boss that I be canned.

I was telling him how my friend Marcus came to Bundang and was amazed at how civil and nice it is. Marcus lives in Guro, an industrial, blue collar dump of an area in Seoul. He complains about how rude the people are and how much they spit.

I can sympathesize with him. I lived in Daegu, and there's quite a lot of spitting, staring, and bumping into you happening there as well. Come to think of it, these things happen all over the peninsula.

Thankfully, however, my student, Mr. Lee cleared it up for me. It's not the Koreans who are doing all that, it's the foreigners.

Good to know. For the past three and half years I thought it was the Koreans who were spitting, throwing up all over the place, impolite, rude, and noisy.

Silly me. It was the foreigners.

I Guess I'll have the Leek Pancake

2008-08-19T20:44:00.000-07:00

Another pathetic lunch: shredded white cabbage and leek pancakes.

Every lunch is a struggle. I walk into the brightly-lit, clean cafeteria, mosey on over to the buffet, only to be confronted with seafood, seafood, and more seafood. Even the goddamned vegetables have seafood in them. The seaweed soup has shrimp, the bean soup contains clams -- even the brocolli and cream soup is garnished with dried, baby prawns.

The only soup I can eat is the spicy hotdog soup with spam.

On a lucky day, I dine on white rice with dried-out marinated pork roast.

No vegetables. Ninety percent of the time the vegetables have shrimp or are marinated in shrimp water.

The problem is, as many of you know, I have a shellfish allergy. Everyone in Korea is probably aware of this, since it's constantly an issue for me.

Many Koreans don't believe it's possible to have food allergies. They look in disbelief, like I just said "the sky is red." At first my wife was convinced it's a western thing. "I never met anyone with food allergies."

Now that she's asked the English classes she teaches, she's found out that actually many Koreans have food allergies too. They run from the mundane to the bizarre: from eggs to peaches.

Today my mute coworkers* and I walked an extra ten minutes to get to the other cafeteria. A waste of time. The main dish was seafood stew, complete with baby octopus heads, squid, and clams.

Walking up to the buffet, a familiar feeling of resignation and dissappointment arose -- "Uh, I'll just have the leek pancake."

------------------------------------------------

* My lunch mates are real exciting bunch. It's like having lunch with monks -- no talking. On the other hand, it is nice not to have to worry about saying anything. Sometimes the whole hour goes by without a word exchanged.

Weekend Report: Hot, hot, and hotter

2008-08-10T22:17:00.001-07:00

Everyone was screaming and shouting and clapping their hands. It was 90 degrees this Sunday. I’d been awake for four hours and still hadn’t eaten anything. The only thing I wanted to do was dig into the spicy vegetable and beef soup sitting in front of me. I thought I should be excited for the Koreans that Park Tae-Hwan just won the gold medal for the 400m, but at the time my soup was more important.

We were at the Korean version of a “truck stop” on the way to an art village called Heyri. Heyri is an amazing valley of architecture and art. The individually designed buildings mostly house art galleries, book shops, and cafes. It’s basically a large area of land in which a bunch of artists and architects did their own thing. It’s really quite a cool place.

But not on Sunday. On Sunday it was too hot to do anything. Yet we drove over an hour to get there without a functioning A/C. Sweating in the car, sweating out of the car, sweating in the buildings. The sweat poured for hours. Frankly, I was miserable. I wanted to be in a good mood and enjoy this neat place, but it was too damn hot and we were getting sunburned. (There was NO place that sold sunscreen.) On top of that, there was no where decent to eat in the area. Even at the Tofu restaurant, everything included some form of sea creature.

Saturday was better: Carl gave a passionate presentation during our Saturday Sangha. We had nice discussions about various topics, and then made our way to Starbucks, where the discussions continued. Then we saw an amazing art exhibition by Bill Viola. It was just awesome. I stared at his video pieces for ages. I noticed the mind was quiet. I admire this man, whoever he is, for producing art that moves – both literally and figuratively. Carl and Marcus both concurred at the awesomeness. Marcus and I are ready to go back.

Finally, Insook and I rounded off the evening with dinner and the excellent Korean movie “7 Days”.

Two Tales of Hygiene

2008-08-07T21:04:00.000-07:00

Working my way through the throng of tooth-brushers needs the agility of black belt. The marbled bathroom is small, and having three grown men standing there cleaning their choppers after lunch makes getting to the sink to wash my greasy hands an unnecessarily irritating task.

What is it with this tooth-brushing culture anyways? I worked in a few companies in the US and I don't remember this kind of tooth brushing frenzy at precisely 1:00 pm. Is it a Korean thing?

Flashback to yesterday's lunch. Our boss was kind enough to take two of us out for Korean BBQ. All meals here are served with a number of side dishes, consisting of anything from raw squid to iceberg lettuce drenched in thousand-island dressing to honeyed ginseng root. The side dishes are usually tasty(assuming you like these kinds of foods!) Personally, I avoid the ones with sea critters, which usually leaves me only one or two choices.

The catch to these delicious, free side dishes is that not only do you have to share the food, you also have to share the saliva of your lunch mates. Consider four pairs of chopsticks poking around in one dish over a meal. Here there's no such concept of "double-dipping", which is anathema in the US.

At my in-laws house in Daegu, I have the luxury of sharing my DNA with the four new members of my family. After all the rummaging with one's chopsticks throughout the many bowls of vegetables, they remain on the table for a couple of hours. Later they're placed back into the fridge only to come back out for a second, third, and sometimes a fourth helping. That's a lot of saliva-build-up over a day or two!

A Saturday

2008-08-03T05:25:00.000-07:00

The usual crew gathered: Marcus, Carl, Ami, Mr. Park, myself and a few others. A few of us spent an hour lost in the humid rain, looking for an address we didn't have. Finally, after a few phone calls, we arrived in time to interrupt the end of a perfectly interesting discussion on emptiness, the wisdom chapter of Shantideva's The Way of a Bodhisattva, the most unintelligible chapter of the text.

After some back and forth about the utility of emptiness teachings in general, we enjoyed a delicious vegetarian lunch prepared by the generous Korean-American Tibetan Monk, Yongsoo.

While sitting in the living room, my attention kept drifting to Yongsoo's colorful alter set-up in the bedroom: a big picture of the Dalai Lama, another of a lama I assumed to be his root guru, and an elaborate statue of some Bodhisattva, and the obligatory seven-bowl water offering, which should be offered everyday. I remember doing this during my Tibetan Buddhist phase. Tibetan Buddhism is a beautiful path, full of devotion and ritual, compassion and wisdom. I veered off the path, like I have with so many others, because of who-knows what excuse I concocted at the time. I still maintain my devotion and admiration of His Holiness, however, even in my most cynical of moods.

After lunch we all moseyed over to a temple resembling a small prison complex. I commented on the white Buddhas, which I assumed to be ivory. I'm not even sure they were ivory, but the sentiment fit my overall pessimistic mood.

Marcus insisted we go to the other prison-like temple. I reluctantly followed, preferring to remain outside sitting on the cement stairs while they bowed to the shiny gold Buddhas. I listened to a few dharma talks proclaimed by the ubiquitous Korean locusts called Maemi, which are perched on every other tree during the summer. The noise emitted from their chunky abdomens sounds like a cross from a coked-up alien and a robot on LSD.

We headed to Starbucks, where our conversations centered on American politics, the benefits of Thailand for a single guy, and why Korean monks shouldn't be protesting for Dr. Hwang -- all decidedly undharmic topics.

We parted ways. Marcus moved on to his third temple experience for the day, while Carl, Mr. Park, and I fought our way through the trendy, fashionable crowds of COEX Mall. Carl's ex-girlfriend made a very unexpected appearance and I rounded off the Saturday with too much beer, belting out some 90s tunes in a singing room.

Update

2008-07-30T19:39:00.000-07:00

I started lessons with the olympic champion, Kitek Kim, this week. Twenty minutes, twice a week. This is the first time I've ever taken formal table tennis lessons. I've been playing almost every night, which is good, since I'm less likely to plop down in front of a CSI rerun and drink too much wine.

Work is great. I teach about three hours a day. Sometimes I close my office door and meditate or stretch for a few moments. Sitting in front of the computer for more than twenty minutes at a time gives me an eye-ache. Old age is tough.

The weather's been awful, but that's typical for a Korean July.

Suki's doing well. She's got a sweet daily routine of working for about four hours a day. This allows her enough time to prepare dinner for me when I get home. I feel like a real ajeosi now.

Alcohol, Shotguns, and Lawnmowers are a Bad Mix

2008-07-26T06:18:00.000-07:00

What's this country coming to when a drunk guy can't blow the hell out of his lawnmower with a sawed-off shotgun!?
God bless America.
Those damn liberals! (sarcasm)

Here's the story.
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/americas/7526628.stm

Happiness

2008-07-23T19:44:00.000-07:00

Lately the rain never lets up. July is rainy season in Korea, and this year does not disappoint. It's hard to feel happy. These days I generally feel gloomy. But that's okay. That's the way it goes.

It's interesting how we're obsessed with always being happy. It's a kind of modern syndrome. People fear melancholy. It's seen as a sign of weakness and perhaps unproductivity. "Must be productive" -- the slogan of the our lives. All the self-help books and how-to-be-a-millionaire books assure us that we're meant to always be happy and rich, and if we're not, there's something wrong with us. We'd better fix it, lest we miss out on all that life has to offer. Anthony Robbins is the king of this set, with his private helicopter and jet.

I'm normally convinced that I should always feel happy and upbeat. What's ironic about this new programming of happiness is that the pressure to feel happy all the time actually prevents happiness.

The truth is we're not meant to always be happy. It's good if we can be, but happiness depends on a multitude of factors, including genetics and environment. I'm quite sure I wasn't programmed for continuous smiling: since I can remember I've been generally just-there. And that's fine. Those moments of happiness are wonderful, but sometimes we have to relish those times where we just don't feel all that excited about being alive.

There's even a kind of silent joy to be discerned in those times of melancholy. You can feel the quiet, heavy energy of being. It feels heavier and stickier than normal -- but you can relish the fact that this is life, and it's more satisfying to be with life, just as it is, rather than running away from or rejecting it.

What I've Learned from Practice

2008-07-22T17:20:00.000-07:00

In my post "Spiritual Fast" I lamented that all my years of being involved with "spiritual" things (I dislike that word. It's essentially meaningless.) I haven't learned anything or improved my mind.

Well, that's not true. Here are some things learned over the years of all that practice.

1. The most important thing is that all happiness and suffering is found in my mind. It's not caused by outside things, people, or events. It's caused by my thinking. This is both excellent and terrible news. But whether I like it or not, it's a fact.

2. Enormous joy and bliss can be had for free and immediately. Too good to be true? Well, it's not marketed by the multinational corporations, because there's nothing to sell. It's your own attention and breath. Merely focusing on your breath and following it carefully and tuning into the sensations throughout your body for a few minutes can bring so much happiness and relief. Relief from what? The thinking-mind!

Actually, Eckhart Tolle did make millions off of this. That's essentially his message in his best-selling book "Power of Now", which I highly recommend.

3. I'm less reactive and judgemental. This is kind of sad to say, actually, because I am still quite reactive and judgemental.

4. Life is immensely simple and can be generally happy. This is because there's only this moment to be concerned with. The past is mere neurons firing in the brain and the future is a fantasy. The pulsing, beating, whirring moment of this now is more real and palpable than any thoughts of past or future.

If I really knew these four points deeply, I'd be at peace. But I know them only partially. And this is what practice is about: just returning to reality again and again. Reality is not the stories running in our skulls starring in the drama of "Me". It's whatever is in front of our faces. One of my favorite zen quotes is "There is nothing hidden." As an update, Byron Katie wrote "Reality is user-friendly. What you see is what you get." In other words, there's no mystery. The only mystery is that we've been creating mysteries for tens of thousands of years without a shred of evidence. There is nothing hidden means just that: your life now is all that there is and ever was. There's no hidden layer of reality beyond or underneath our experience. There's just experience -- now, now, now.

And isn't it amazing? Just to be alive; that there's something rather than nothing -- this thisness, impossible to describe and yet it we swim in it day in and day out.

A Spiritual Fast

2008-07-17T22:14:00.000-07:00

I’m beginning a spiritual fast. The Buddhas are sitting in a dark closet, the alter is dismantled. I packed up all my books in two boxes, taped them shut, and stored them away. There’s not one single self-help, spiritual, or religious book on my shelves now, other than a couple that Insook wanted to keep.

I’ve been on a steady diet of such tripe for the past six years. Every book I buy is about the dharma, Zen, self-help, religion, Christianity, God does exist, God doesn't exist, and on and on. I’m not sure what possesses me really. But I have some good ideas.

I want to be different than I am. I’m not satisfied with myself or with my life. This is the origin of all religion and spirituality. This, and fear. And the latter inspires the former.

The fact is that for all of my so-called “practice” and the dozens of volumes I’ve read and the retreats and the prayers and the bowing and the golden Buddhas and the incense and talking and thinking and thinking and thinking… I’ve achieved very little. Very little, indeed. Five minutes driving and the old Joe comes right back, cursing, swearing, and ready to beat the living shit out of the guy who cut me off. This leads me to believe that trying to change ourselves is just plain stupid. It’s dumb. It’s a waste of time and energy. I haven’t changed much over the years, and what changes there have been one may as well chalk up to growing older and wiser! Let me give you some illustrations to bolster this point.

When I was in sixth grade, I was a rebel, the class clown, and almost failing or getting expelled from school. Then suddenly, one winter break of two weeks, I came back to school and the teachers were amazed at how different I was. In fact, the teacher called my mother and asked what happened to me. She didn’t know, and I didn’t notice – or care. I had simply changed. I was better behaved and even managed to get Bs occasionally. There was no effort at all.

For the past six years I’ve tried my damndest to be less self-centered, less angry, kinder, drink less, smoke less, be more calm, more enlightened, etc. And you know what? I’ve haven’t achieved even one of those ridiculous goals. I still anger easily and drink way too much. (The only time I quit drinking is when I’m getting too fat. Superficiality beats spirituality any day!) I can be calm, but it’s a kind of forced thing, and I’m no more enlightened, except in the fact that I now believe enlightenment to be a kind of myth – at least the way most people conceive of it. And I’m as proud and arrogant as ever.

Oh, I did quit smoking. But that was because I almost had a heart-attack.

Let’s look at another example: my deceased grandfather. He was a miserable SOB, a fact concurred by most who knew him. He reminded me of Archie Bunker from “All in the Family.” But I remember one day, suddenly thinking, “Wow, grandpa seems mellower. He’s a lot nicer now. What happened?”

I can tell you one thing: it wasn’t “practice.” He didn’t recite Om Mani Padme Hum or any nonsense like that. It was simply nature, the way things are. Probably, it was because he realized he’s getting older and may as well be nice. I don’t know, I never asked him about it, but it wasn’t something he was trying to do, I’m sure of that.

So, spirituality is a ridiculous joke, a total waste of time.

“What about the Dalai Lama? Look how nice he is.” True, he certainly seems to be enjoying himself and he’s got the compassion and love-for-all-beings thingy nailed. But that comes at a price: by his own admission, four hours a day of meditation, chanting, visualization, and mantras, for over forty years. Four hours a day (and then some, that doesn’t include retreats!) for over forty years. He better darn well be the nicest guy on the planet with that much time investment!

You could dig a hole to the middle of the Earth if you spent enough time on it. Doesn’t mean it’s necessarily a good idea or that shovels work especially well for digging to the center of the earth.

So my point is this: transformation seems to happen on its own sweet time.

The good news is that we don’t have to beat ourselves up trying to be angels. The bad news we’re stuck with ourselves.

This doesn’t mean I think meditation is a total waste of time. Science has documented its effectiveness. And whether I’m fasting from spirituality or not, I still plan to maintain a mindfulness practice.

Unfair Advantage

2008-07-10T21:13:00.000-07:00

The guys I work with are trying to figure out why I keep beating them when we play ping pong.

"Why is whitey keep beating us? We're supposed to be the best!"

I know that's what they're thinking. We play everyday at lunch, and I usually win.

"Oh, we know why you win. It's because you're so tall. It's an unfair advantage." And I'm thinking, "Well, you're yellow. I thought that was an advantage?!"

Who's the best in the world at ping pong?

As everyone knows, it's China. And last time I checked the Chinese weren't the tallest, or did something suddenly change? Or did the Netherlands ursurp China as the World Heavyweight Ping Ponger, and I just didn't hear about it.

Playing Ping Pong with an Olympic Champion

2008-07-10T20:24:00.000-07:00

I joined a table tennis club in Bundang. Happens to be the club of the silver-medalist, Kim Ki-Tek, from the 1988 Seoul olypics. I can guarantee that name won't ring any bells outside of Korea.

The club is in the basement of one of the thousands of ubiquitous grey cement blocks adorned with blinking neon signs that pass for buildings here. The fees are steep. In San Diego I played in one of the best and oldest clubs in the nation. It was equipped 40 professional tables and took up a gynmnasium. Twenty bucks a year was the only fee. In Korea, the basement job with 8 tables sets you back a hundred a month. Yep. That's about thirty-five times more expensive than home for a place 1/20th of the size.

The players there are incredible. The Koreans are the most intense people on the planet. That's not an exagerration either. They train hard and equip themselves with all the gear, no matter what they do. At the TT club they got the shoes, shirts, shorts, and a number of other paraphernalia to complete the TT gangsta look.

My friends harrassed me for paying $95 for my paddle. The rubbers these guys are using cost $100 alone! Then the blade (paddle) is another $100. Expensive set up.

The Attraction of Islam

2008-06-16T22:27:00.001-07:00

I spent a lot of time studying Islam. A couple of times in my life I was interested in it, mostly through Sufi ism. Why was I interested in Islam and why is it the fastest growing religion? I'll note here a few of the attractive aspects which caught my attention.

(Overall, I find the religion repulsive, and my friend Marcus and I spend a lot of time trashing it. However, I feel it's time to focus on the positive aspects. Here they are.)

1. It's concept of God is much more clear than the Christian conception of God. There's no trinity. (The trinity is an utterly ridiculous concept and confusing. The greatest minds have spend over 1700 yrs trying to make sense of it, and for anyone who's not a Christian, they've failed!) God is not all-loving, a fuzzy surrogate father who answers all your prayers. God is distant and almost utterly unknowable. He's the all-powerful creator and you can't get close to him, yet he's closer than your jugular. He's quite transcendent and his commandments are clear in Islam.

2. Charity for the poor is a Pillar of Islam. Everyone must give to the poor. We can all like this one.

3. All of the laws and rules were laid out by the prophet, therefore they acquire the legitimacy of God. There's no disputing these rules. They're absolute. In Christianity, Jesus gave almost no rules. The Church has created thousands of rules. They all seem arbitrary, created hundreds of years after Christ.

4. We know exactly what Muhammad said and what he meant. We have no clue what Jesus really said.

5. Islam is not founded on miracles. Christianity is meaningless without miracles. Jesus was a pathetic, quickly-executed criminal IF the resurrection is not real. This is admitted by Paul in his letter to the Corinthians.

6. Islam united many disparate fighting tribes under the banner of monotheism. It created a worldwide brotherhood. Race was no factor. This may have been one of the biggest, first, and most important non-race based social movement in the history of the world. All people were equal who believed in Allah. (This has a flipside, I know!)

7. God, as He appears in Islam, is much closer to the Biblical God than the God of the Christians. Read the Old Testament, especially Deut., Judges, Samuel, etc. God is quite brutal, violent, and spiteful. And so he is in the Koran.

8. There's almost no clergy or hierarchy in Islam. It's radically egalitarian.

9. Women have raw deal, true. However, their status was raised from what was the practice in Arabia at the time of Muhammad. The dress codes that we see in Afghanistan, etc. are not in the Koran. They are later inventions, based largely on culture.

10. Islam gives people a generally wholesome way of life with a focus on family, community, and submission to God. There's no drinking, gambling, prostitution, interest on loans, etc. It gives the Muslim a purpose for life and a handbook on how to live.

And this is why so many are attracted to it now. We live in a meaningless world floating through life without a purpose. We don't know what to do with ourselves. we've deconstructed all Absolutes and killed God. No wonder people are turning to a religion with clear rules and absolute authority. Christianity and other religions lack this. That's why Islam is the future.

10.

Am I a Buddhist?

2008-06-16T05:05:00.000-07:00

I disagree with Buddha. I’m not even sure I’d call myself a Buddhist. I just don’t find the Four Noble Truths all that impressive. I don’t want to see everything as suffering, nor do I feel the end goal of all existence is the complete eradication of desire so that the energy that’s reborn will never again be reborn. Escaping from this “burning house” is not my goal. It was Buddha’s however.

Read the rest here:

http://dhammaleaves.wordpress.com/
2008/06/16/am-i-a-buddhist/

Busy Job and the Mind

2008-06-03T18:31:00.000-07:00

My new job is keeping me really busy. Yesterday I left home at 730am and returned at 630pm. Almost two full hours of driving during that time in Korean traffic. Arg. I was so tired when I got home, I crashed until 830, woke up in a groggy haze, and attempted to get some fresh air. I hadn't yet hardly stepped foot outside and it was almost 9pm.

Such is the life of a typical Korean business man and I've joined their ranks. I appreciate my job and the bank it brings, however I need to slip meditation and walking time in my day. My goal is to bring mindfulness as much as possible to the daily tasks. Today I took a ten minute meditation break where I just focused on my breathing -- however, I must confess I spent half of that time mentally preparing for my next class.

Our mind is our world. If our mind is disturbed we can be kicking it on a Thai beach, beatiful girl on one arm, margarita in the other hand, and we'll still be miserable. On the other hand, just sitting in our apartments looking at the salt and pepper shaker can bring unspeakable peace and contentment. This is both great and terrible news.

The good news is we don't have to go anywhere to be happy. The bad news is we can't escape our misery. We have to face our mind, right now, in all its confusion, seeking, clinging, and misery.

When I face the confused and turbulent processes that I call "my mind" (though there is not "mine" nor is it an entity) and shine the light of awareness on it, the waves slowly settle. After some time the natural joy and ease of being shines through, and even though I'm sitting in a cubicle, six floors up in a cement shoebox, there is a sense of joy and ease manifesting.

May we all find this underlying joy that is our birthright and true nature.

My First Teacher: Charlotte Joko Beck

2008-06-03T01:36:00.000-07:00

Joko is fairly well-known in the worldwide Zen community with the publication of her two best-selling (best selling in the Zen world!) books: Living Zen and Nothing Special. I was lucky enough to have her as my first real, flesh and blood teacher. However, I only met her a few times -- I'm sure she wouldn't remember me. At any rate, I still think of her fondly.

Before I met her I was reading a lot in the Tibetan tradition with its focus on developing compassion (Bodhicitta). I realized that I was a pretty self-centered guy and I hoped that developing compassion would be the ticket to be nicer to people and be happier myself.

The first time I met her was memorable. I waited in line for fifteen minutes. We would sit on zafus in queue winding around the living room, listening to the small fountain gurgling which drown out the dialogue between Joko and her students in the adjacent bedroom. I was quite nervous and worried about looking smart and enlightened. She rang the bell, I entered a bare bedroom with a small Buddha, clumsily bowed three times, and parked myself in front of this old lady with white wispy hair, a black t-shirt and oversized glasses. She looked like an ancient librarian.

Getting down to business, she asked point-blank
-- Why are you here?
-- I want to be more compassionate. I'm basically, totally self-centered.
-- Compassion is what we are when we've unravelled all of our self-centered conditioning.

She continued by emphasizing -- as she always did -- that spiritual practice takes time. The fruits which we desire do not arrive in one moment of insight, despite all those wonderful stories of "instant enlightenment." Practice is like a small stream of water which slowly, imperceptibly wears down a stone over time.

Her energy was silent, open, waiting. She didn't have any agenda. She just listened to your concern and then redirected you back to practice, which is "just living your life as it is without all the story lines." Her instructions were always simple and to the point. There was nothing ambiguous or difficult to understand. Just always be with what is, now, as it is. There's nothing more to do. She often said practice is not for everyone, and "it's hard work," sounding like George W. Bush about the Iraq War. But, in the case of zazen, there is progress and the effort does pay off.

In retrospect, I see a great similarity between her approach and the Buddha's. In the Satipatthana Sutta the instructions are to maintain mindfulness, awareness, in all that we do. The Buddha lists four categories (body, feelings/sensations, mind states, and mind objects) which actually amount to our whole experience. Joko says just be with what is, as it is -- this means bodily sensations, thoughts, and feelings. Notice them arise, watch them fade.

Her student Elizabeth Hamilton, a great teacher in her own right, once quipped that the "San Diego Zen Center is teaching Vipassana in drag."

The last I heard Joko retired from full-time teaching and now lives teaching part-time in Prescott, Arizona.

May she be healthy, happy, and free of suffering.

A great interview, illustrating Joko's no-nonsense style:
http://www.shambhalasun.com/index.php?option=content&task=view&id=1613

The San Diego Zen Center, where Elizabeth Hamilton and Ezra Bayda teach
http://www.zencentersandiego.org/

Reoccuring Christian Dreams

2008-05-29T18:44:00.000-07:00

Occasionally I have had reoccuring dreams. But in the past two months I've had these powerful dreams about Jesus, the church, etc. For one week, every night I had powerful, realistic dreams of going to my old Baptish church back home in Lincoln Park, Michigan. My used-to-be best friend Jeff Heim is the minister there, and when I'm there I'm so happy and relieved to be there. It felt like coming home. And I was happy to see Jeff and some of the people I haven't seen in 20 years.

Two nights ago I had the dream again. Often in these dreams I'm crying. I'm not sure about what exactly -- a sense of relief? of regret? Loss? I don't know. Perhaps a sense of missing home? But these dreams are more than just missing home, because they always revolve around the church, Jeff Heim, and Jesus. Actually, in my life, church didn't play a big role. I was really into it for about two years. And then in university I dismissed it, seeking out other worldviews that made more sense.

Last night I dreamt that I met my favorite Catholic theologian monk, Thomas Keating. He's a wonderful man. He teaches contemplative prayer which is like Zen meditation, shikantaza, but with the difference that you're focusing on the feeling of God's presence and worshipping at His feet, so to speak. It's just you alone with God, spending time together: no thinking, asking, etc. Just silence. A beautiful practice.

However, in my dream I was reading a book that contained a debate between a Christian and a Muslim. I've read these debates many times in the past. Although there's a lot about Islam I find horrendous, their theology in general makes more sense than the Christian's. Anyways, that's a different subject. In the dream I complained to Father Thomas that I didn't know how to trust the Bible, because so much of it seems suspect at best and it worst it seems like a total fabrication. I sincerely pleaded with him, hoping for some answer. He just looked at me with this kind of knowing, caring face, but with a look in his eye that said, "I know what you mean, but I can't help you. There's nothing I can say that will convince you to trust the scriptures." And that was it. I was left feeling unsatisfied and wishing that I could trust scriptures, that Jesus really was our Savior and Friend, Mary our Mother, and that with God the Father they were one big happy family in heaven that loved us and listened to our weary hearts.

Korea is Truly Bizarre

2008-05-26T00:24:00.001-07:00

http://english.chosun.com/w21data/html/news/200805/200805260011.html

Welcome to an alternate universe where reason and science are four-letter words which have been replaced by emotion and irrationality.

Koreans are STILL protesting against US Beef. Given the reaction to the importation of US beef one might think that we were feeding our cows radioactive nuclear waste nuggets coated with lead.

To add to the absurdity of all this, Korea is experiencing a huge outbreak of Bird flu. Birds are dropping like coins from welfare receipients at a Vegas casino, yet you can still go into restaurants and get a half-cooked raw egg on top of your food.

A Burn and a New Name

2008-05-25T23:45:00.000-07:00

Since I've been in Korea I've thought about having a Korean name. But, actually men's names are not that appealing. Many of them have the words: dong, suck, bum, bong, and jong. Put the first two names togeher, and you can have a lot of fun. A common name is Bum-Suck. Add the popular last name Yoo, and you get quite a doozy: Yoo Bum-Suck. (It's a real name!)

Combine this with my long-standing practice and love of Buddhism and you find Joe hankering for a Buddhist Korean name. I thought I could kill two birds with one stone: get a Korean name and a dharma name.

Finally, after being here for two and half years, I met a great monk name Chong Go Sunim, who's kind of a friend, monk, and teacher all rolled into one. He's American and about the same age, so it's comfortable talking to him and he usually doesn't scoff too much at my twisted humor. I suggested to him that some of my friends and I want to take the 5 Precepts, Refuge in the Buddha, Dharma, and Sangha, and receive dharma names. He said sure, and we set up a time and place.

A nice bonus was that the monk responsible for creating our names is a kind of super-star, psychic enlightened old Zen master named Daehaeng Sunim. She's famous in Korea and around the world. Her biography is amazing, chock full of wandering around the mountains in rags, sleeping in the forest, eating pine needles, and asking herself over and over again: what I am? This is my kind of story! (A secret or not-so-secret part of myself wants to do the same thing, but then what would Insook do? Plus, I have to pay off those pesky student loans.)

The ceremony itself was quite simple. A little chanting, offering some incense to the Buddha, and, uh, getting burned with three sticks of incense. The smell of fragrant incense and roasting flesh was sumptuous. Actually, our flesh roasted only a little, and much to my surprise it didn't hurt at all. Anways, after being scorched we were given our new dharma names. I had already told Chong Go that I would veto anything with Dong or Bum in it, and I'd be highly upset if they were combined together -- Hi, I'm Dong-Bum -- and in fact I might just have to convert to Islam to show my disapproval. Anyways, what was amazing and still is amazing is that although Daehaeng Sunim never met us, her names uncannily reflect our personalities.

For example, my friend Marcus' name translates as Virtuous/Upright Stone. And this is exactly Marcus. He's always harping on about how important virtue and following rules is and you can't bend or break him on it. He's just like a stone: solid and unmoving. My name translates to something like 'the way or truth of the sky/heaven.' I think this indicates exactly my airy nature. I'm very ungrounded. But it also points to a positive aspect which is that my mind tends to be open and the nondual insights can be quite easy to grasp for me. (If you had reversed our names it would be totally wrong. Me a rock? No way!) And our other two friends had fitting names as well.

The weather that day was the best I'd seen all year. Azure skies, a subtle breeze and the temp was just right. After our ceremony, we circled the pagoda, which I find a wonderful practice (korean: tapdori) and we capped off the evening with some green tea at a nice little tea-house down the road.

The day felt very auspicious and we were amazed at our good luck. Clearly, the Buddhas were smiling on us.

Check out more action here:
http://www.josesiem.smugmug.com/gallery/5021509_ZidiM#301408082_PAPZQ

My New Job

2008-05-25T21:16:00.000-07:00

For the past three months I've been working various part-time jobs -- teaching everyone from third graders to a Vice President of an oil corporation. I planned on continuing this kind of schedule, which provided adequate income and plenty of free-time. However, I was given a great offer to work full-time at an IT company located in Seongnam City about 15 minutes by car from my apartment.

It is a real step-up for me professionally and financially. I'll be responsible for the entire English program, which means creating classes, curricula, managing schedules, etc. It's an exciting opportunity. I have my own large corner office. Natural light streams in from both sides and fresh air as well.

Today I had an awkward first-company-lunch experience, not unlike my first lunches during Elementary School. There were plenty of foreign faces (this time literally!), and it was crowded and noisy. Plenty of staring too -- in a sea of hundreds of black heads, my was the only pink shiny one. My poor coworkers, two of them, were forced to accompany me. It was like having lunch with two monks. Not a word was spoken. One nice thing about getting older is that I don't need to feel uncomfortable. I can enjoy the silence and relish the awkwardness now, as opposed to that first day at my new school in fourth grade in Browns Mills, New Jersey.

I'll be updating later on how the job is going, but for now, that's all.

Chinese Protests in Korea Turn Violent

2008-04-28T18:55:00.001-07:00

The Chinese irritate the hell out of me. Almost as much as the Muslims demanding that they "are a peaceful people," and if you don't believe them they'll kindly issue a fatwa against you. Thousands of Chinese thronged the streets in Seoul and started throwing stuff and beating on the Anti-Chinese protesters. This is ironic and ridiculous. What kind of people (the Chinese) go to a foreign country, protest, and then get violent in that foreign country? Some nerve. Korean citizens utilizing their right to free speech and peaceful demonstrations (except the dude who tried to light himself on fire... what is it with Koreans dousing themselves with gasoline and going up in flames to make a point?... oh well, to each their own...) anyways, it seems the Chinese feel that people of other countries have no right to protest against them, and they'll go to those foreign countries and beat the shit out of anyone who decides to protest against the oh-so-fair Chinese policies.

I know it's not all Chinese who do this. However, just about every Chinese I ever talked to even in the US sees the Dalia Lama as a terrorist.

It's not productive to generalize, like I'm doing here, but sometimes it just feels good to go on self-righteous tirades!

http://www.koreatimes.co.kr/www/news/nation/2008/04/117_23257.html

You Have To Give Up

2008-04-27T22:39:00.000-07:00

You are not ready to accept the fact that you have to give up. A complete and total 'surrender'.... It is a state of hopelessness which says that there is no way out.... Any movement in any direction, on any dimension, at any level, is taking you away from yourself.....

The search ends with the realization that there is no such thing as enlightenment. By searching, you want to be free from the self, but whatever you are doing to free yourself from the self is the self. How can I make you understand this simple thing? There is no 'how'. If I tell you that, it will only add more momentum to that.....

-- U.G. Krishnamurti

UG is still one of my favorites. You can find more here http://www.well.com/user/jct/

Maybe No Buddhist Studies...

2008-04-27T05:59:00.001-07:00

I was going to apply for the Buddhist Studies program at Dongkuk University, but I've reconsidered for a couple of different reasons.

It's hard to explain the first reason. It's something like I don't want my faith to be tied up and connected to my profession. I feel the more I read, the less faith I have. Through our many discussions that Ryan and I had while he was here, something slowly dawned on me. Our spiritual experience and path is one of experience and feeling. As he said, "nobody can tell us the path, we have to find it ourselves." (He's more interested in the experience as such and not the scripture and theory. I always refer to the scriptures to determine whether or not a specific religion is true.) I thought his remark was rather pedestrian at first, but after a while I'm understanding it as: our path, faith, and spiritual life is ours alone. It's an experience, a matter of the heart. My problem is that I tend to make it a thing of the head, a detailed and perfectly constructed, philosophically sound set of propositions which aims at representing (like a map) and explaining this universe and accounting for any meaning therein. The problem with this approach is that there is no map like this. When you study any religion or philosophy it always breaks down at various points. The philosophies I resonate with the most are the ones that avoid making a metaphysical map of the world; rather, they provide a set of tools and a framework by which one can feel free, peaceful, and happy in this world. (Buddhism and Zen are such philosophies.)

In fact, when people ask me if Buddhism is a religion or a philosophy, I say neither: it's a therapy, a set of tools by which one may avoid negative states of mind, experience positive states, and finally, go beyond all changing states of mind to a deeper, unimaginable peace.

The other reason for avoiding Buddhism grad school is that I feel I need to do something more grounded in the physical. I spend way too much time in my head and reading books. This always ungrounds me and I tend to daydream a lot, which is ironic because I believe the path to freedom, peace, and happiness is decidedly out of thought and into the direct experience of this moment, unmediated by thinking.

My New Buddhism Blog

2008-04-18T17:31:00.001-07:00

I've created a new blog where I post my ramblings about Buddhism.

http://dhammaleaves.wordpress.com/

Enjoy!

Video of what's happening in Europe with Islam

2008-03-27T17:45:00.000-07:00

This guy is witty and intelligent. I enjoy his videos.

Meditation at the Buddhist English Library of Seoul BELS

2008-03-26T18:42:00.000-07:00

I felt I needed to go, but entering the clogged stream of traffic plugging into Seoul at 5pm almost kept me home. Sitting on a packed bus for an hour is not one of my favorite past times, yet in Korea it's a daily reality for many people. The reasons I wanted to go were to meet the Burmese monk and hopefully make some like-minded friends. And I'm happy to say that both happened.

The monk was nice, intelligent, and spoke English well. He even has a Master's Degree in Buddhist Studies. This doesn't matter much to most people, but I love to talk about all the useless knowledge I've acquired over the years which sits collecting dust in the attic of my brain.

There were only four people present for the meditation, all Koreans. One woman was particularly bright and cheerful and spoke English well. The others were quiet, which is usual. Most of the participants at these programs speak poor English, and when it comes to Buddhism one needs a good grasp of the language to make any sense at all. I was happy to discover that there are other "foreigners" (as they call us) who come regularly but who weren't there this evening. One guy lives in my neighborhood and another guy is keen to learn Pali, which I asked the monk about. He said he'd teach us if we had three or four people. Pali is the original language of the Buddhist scriptures and closest to the language the B-man actually spoke. I believe it to be the most authentic of teachings attributed to the Buddha. There's thousands of teachings attributed to him, but many are obviously later creations. The Pali Canon - as its called - has a sobriety, directness, and practicality to it that are lacking in later Sutras.

The meditation itself was a disaster. It started off with Pali chanting, which I enjoy and do at home alone. However, concentration was impossible. Why? Well, this is Korea, and I'll give you one guess... Yes, you got it! Noise. Not only was there a heavily congested road running along the front of the building with the usual cacophony of honking-horns and clunky, diesel bus engines passy by, but also apparently they were actually tearing down a building next door. And I do mean next door. The Buddha said "go to a quiet place..." when doing meditation. I think he would've had a hard time concentrating here.

After the "meditation" we chatted with the monk for about an hour regarding various topics. The bright girl complained her mother going to the temple to pray for her to "get married." I chipped in "to a Doctor, of course!" She lamented this shallow approach to the religion and asked the monk if this was also the case in Burma. He confirmed that it indeed was and that every Buddhist country has such practices. Most Buddhists are content to offer some food to monks and pray for their family's well-being, often asking for such mundane things as "passing exams" or finding a good man for their daughter.

Desire and Fear

2008-03-20T02:10:00.000-07:00

What beautiful weather! Today was the nicest day I've seen in literally months. 60 degrees, sunshine, blue skies, and no yellow dust. I walked for over an hour by the local stream/river/sewer. And, as usual, I got to thinking.

About fear and desire. It occurred to me they're the same thing. One lies on the backside of the other, much like a coin. If there's fear, there's desire lurking and vice-versa. I don't know if you've ever realized how fearful we all are. Everyone is afraid of everyone and everything. It's quite a sorry state of affairs really. My koan today was "What are you afraid of?" Here are some examples: looking someone in the eye too long, looking at pretty girls and having someone notice I am looking at them (stupid example I know), meaningless of life, wasting my life, death, and a big one is rejection and/or people thinking negatively of me in some way.

For each one of these fears there are corresponding desires. I'm afraid of death because I desire life. I'm afraid of rejection because I desire acceptance. I'm afraid of wasting my life because I desire a meaningful life.

It then occurred to me how much fear circumscribes our lives. How much do we avoid because we're afraid? Think about that for awhile. For me, there's quite a bit I don't do because I'm afraid of something.

What if you were afraid of nothing? Amazing! A completely free life. Imagine walking around not being afraid of anyone of anything.

So, this is my koan today. What am I afraid of and why?

Gran

2008-03-13T05:00:00.000-07:00

Sometimes I still can't believe Gran is dead. My grandmother died over 10 years ago, but when I look at her picture it's still hard to conceive she's gone. I had this picture laying around and so before it's ruined I had it scanned, immortalized in the digital world forever. That was my favorite Superman cup. I can still feel it's thick hard plastic in my hands. This must have been about 1979. We were in her second floor apartment in some small, podunk town in New Jersey, the name of which still eludes me despite having visited it just two years ago.

I grew up with Gran. My mom too of course. But my parents divorced when I was barely three and my dad moved to NY. He was kind enough to visit me on most weekends, driving three hours each way from Long Island to this miserable little town in New Jersey.

My memories of Gran are like snapshots indelibly stamped into this brain: her laughing (like she is in this picture), drinking sherry (why she's laughing probably), arguing with my mother, and passing out in her chair. She uttered random idiosyncratic statements, such as, "Oh, balls." This was her polite way of saying "shit." She loved the Phillies and so I did too. And I loved her with all my heart. She was the real deal, no messing around.

Later in my life, when I was in high school and living in Michigan -- she too moved to Michigan -- she would bring us McDonalds some mornings. Occasionally she'd arrive too early as Grandmas and Grandpas are wont to do. Other days she'd arrive too late. She'd walk in with a nice, big steaming cup of McDonalds coffee -- coffee so hot it'll burn the skin right off your bones, which is why they got sued for four million dollars, but that's another story. But at this point in the morning, I'd already had my coffee and I couldn't fit another 12 oz of liquid in my stomach. Her famous scowl stretched across her face. Inside she was thinking "Oh balls."

The other night I woke up sobbing, because I missed my grandfather. When I say "Grandpa" I always mean the one on my father's side. The one on my mother's side wasn't around. My Grandpa died about 7 years ago, withering away from Alzheimer's. And this is what brings me to the point of this blog entry: what amazes and scares me is how the pain of a loved one dying can lurk in your heart for so many years. Even after a decade the hurt and missing remain. I can't imagine what it's like to lose a parent, a sibling or a child. Psychologists say the most traumatic experience for a person is losing their own child.

Anyways, just a trip down memory lane. Maybe this is why I love photography -- the feelings these old snapshots stir up.

I still miss you, Gran.

Tripod Today

2008-03-11T05:10:00.001-07:00

I got a new tripod today. This allows me to take better photos. Here's a nice one from today.

Yuldong Park

2008-03-09T21:26:00.001-07:00

Yesterday my friend Joseph and I went to Yuldong Park in Bundang to take some photos and enjoy the warm, spring air.There's a great little golden temple there called Daedo-sa.

A Piece of History

2008-03-08T17:30:00.000-08:00

Here's a picture of me circa 1997 in my apartment in Mt. Pleasant, MI, where I went to Uni. I was in my music producer phase. Spent thousands of dollars (Thanks Mastercard!) on gear: guitars, basses, mixing board, synthesizer, etc. After graduating with my every-so-useful degree in Religion and German, I sat around writing during the day and tended bar in the evenings.

Good times.

My Favorite Quote: Life is Like...

2008-03-08T05:33:00.000-08:00

Here's my favorite quote. It's allegedly from Shunryu Suzuki, the famous Zen master from Japan who wrote the must-read book "Zen Mind, Beginner's Mind."

"Life is like stepping onto a boat
that's about to set sail and sink."

I imagine when people read that this is my favorite quote, they'll think that I'm macabre and pessimistic. Maybe. However, I'd say more accurately that it's realistic and practical.

Lately, I've heard of a lot of young people dying or almost dying. The 23-year, strong handsome young man that was burned over 70% of body one night when a fire broke out in his apartment in Korea this week. The sister of a co-worker, 25, who died slipping on a rock. She fell down and hit her head, never to again regain consciousness. The friend of a student of mine, 23, who went to the dentist and never woke up again after having a minor surgery.

Listen up, people. We're going to die.

The best Buddhist sermon I ever heard was when a zen master showed up to a big event, where everyone was waiting for his speech. He showed up, muttered, "Everyone here will soon die," and walked away.

That's about as true as it gets. Who can argue with that? You can argue all you want with the Virgin Birth and whether or not Jesus was the Messiah, but you cannot argue about whether we will all die. God or no God, we're all worm-food.

Sometimes I walk around and everyone I see I think "this person will be dead one day." Try it. Visualize everyone that you know, everyone you love, including yourself. will grow old, suffer, and die. Your mother, father, brother, sister, friend, spouse, co-worker, stranger, and yourself, will grow old (or not), suffer, and die. Spend a little while walking around and viewing people like this and see if you don't develop compassion and caring even for people you don't know. See if those petty grievances you have with people don't dissolve in that instant. How can you hate or hold grudges against people when you know that they and you will die soon enough.

This is one of the key meditation subjects in Buddhism. It's one that many Buddhists never take up for understandable reasons. However, when it hits you in your bones, that we're all mortal, then you get some perspective on life -- and this is the practical aspect of it. Everyone you see was once an innocent child, playful and happy. They grow up into awkward teenagers. They go through the difficult and worrisome adulthood. Then they careen into old age, suffer some debilitating disease, and that's it -- they're finished.

Again, what's the point? The point is to get some perspective on life. Find out what' s important, feel love and compassion for those you despise or ridicule for whatever reason, and appreciate this very brief and fleeting life. Finally, think about -- what is it that you can really take with you when that inevitable moment comes. What's coming with you after the last breath? If it can't come with you, chances are it's not worth worrying about.

Tokyo Trip

2008-03-06T04:48:00.000-08:00

Insook and I had a big trip planned to go back home (Michigan and New York) but because of financial reasons and time constraints, we had to change course. We opted for a quick three day trip to Tokyo just to break the monotony of Korea.

Our little vacation overall was a disappointment. While I love Japan and Tokyo was fairly impressive, there just wasn't all that much interesting to see and do there. If you like luxury shopping and spending $300 on a pair of shoes ($350 for the ones I wanted!), then Tokyo is the city to go to. The Buddhist temples reminded me of the big cathedrals in Europe -- they were mausoleums of what used to be -- thriving places of spirituality, community, and dare I say, enlightenment. What struck me most about Japanese Buddhism, and I mean generally Jodo Shinshu here, the Pure Land variety, was that you had to be rich to be a Buddhist. Now, of course, don't take this too literally, but the prices of the various Buddhist paraphernalia was outrageous. I was also quite disappointed in the two temples I saw -- the Hongan-ji temples. They felt like giant school cafeterias with gaudy golden shrines in front in front of which apparently only the clergy could do anything. The lay people sit on the cheap chairs in the audience. I say this all with a caveat. I'm hardly an authority on Japanese Buddhism. Take these as superficial impressions of a weekend observer.

Here's what struck me the most about the trip: the cultural differences between Korea and Japan, the fact that Tokyo seems like a giant shopping mall, and the cleanliness of Tokyo. Oh, and the outfits. Wow, just people watching can be entertaining for hours. I'm quite sure there's no place on Earth as fashionably interesting or insane as Harajuku.

That's about it. Overall, I'm glad to be back in Korea, mostly because of the food (Korean food is better IMO) and the lack of funds. Those $350 shoes will have to wait until another time.

Korea is Lego Land

2008-02-24T03:19:00.000-08:00

And here's proof!

Beef

2008-02-24T02:52:00.000-08:00

As many of you know, I complain all the time about the beef prices in Korea. Today I was craving, so I caved and dropped about $14 for this mediocre sirloin. Here's a picture. I'm guessing it would be about $5 in the US, but I'm not sure anymore.

Even garbage can be beautiful

2008-02-18T01:22:00.000-08:00

Look at all those colors!

The Most Expensive Apartment in the World

2008-02-18T01:12:00.000-08:00

$550 real-estate fee?? Can you believe we had to pay $550 to rent an apartment? It's not like the agent did anything. We went there, she showed us the apartment, shedrew up the paperwork, bam, finished.

Our apartment is pretty nice. It's called an Office-tel. As far as I know, it's a Korean phenomenon. Some people use them for their business, others for an apartment. Ours is a studio with a mini-loft for sleeping. It would be considered small by US standards, a medium-sized studio in any big American city. How much is it?

We need $10,000 down. That's for the landlord to gamble with or something. We get it back at the end, but still, that's a big chunk of change. Rent is $800/month. Plus $250 for random apartment stuff like the sleeping security guard, elevator, water, trash. Plus $100/month because we had to borrow the ten grand since neither of us have that stashed away in a Swiss bank account. All in all that comes to about $1200/month -- and that doesn't include internet, cable, etc.

Seoul is allegedly one of the top five most expensive cities in the world. With apartment prices like these and gas at $6.50/gallon, I'd have to concur.

My New Policy: Tell the Truth and No More Fuming to Myself

2008-02-14T19:03:00.000-08:00

I basically hate my job because of the hours: teaching at 630am, working until 10pm, five days a week. The number of hours aren't bad. It's the going to bed at 12 or 1am and getting 5-6 hours a sleep a night that kills me. This is why I'm quitting. I wanted to quit last month, gave them 30 days notice, but they told me they couldn't find anyone in 30 days, so being the nice guy that I am, I stuck around yet another month, sleep-walking through my days, too tired and cranky to do much of anything other than surf the internet and try to nap during the day.

I've been more than decent to my school, fulfilling their sometimes stupid requests even though I don't have to: working an extra a 4 hours a month only to interview 3 people for level-testing, which took a total of 15 minutes; agreeing to teach a class for five hours a week which only has one student; agreeing to UNpaid sick time even though my contract says I have paid sick time, etc. This is Korea and it's rare when life makes sense, so you gotta roll with it, not that I'm very good at rolling with it. I roll about as well as cube.

So, this week my boss calls me into the office to inform me that I will be teaching eight hours this month of private lessons. I will not be paid for this. I have to do it, because my contract says I can work up to 120 hours a month and I'm only working about 110 now, so no problem right? My face turns red, and I try to keep my cool.

- Yeah, well, I'm not excited about it. But...
- But it's in your contract, so you have to do it.
- Basically, I'm not excited about working for free, teaching private lessons, which I can get paid $50/hour for and you want me to do it for free, but yeah, whatever...

I left the office fuming. I was almost literally steamed. I could feel the redness all over my head! It most of looked funny, seeing a bald, tomato-headed white guy, hulking out of the managers office.

Normally, what I do next is rage inside for a day or two, thinking of all the things I want to say, rehearsing again and again all the justifications for why I'm right, why this school sucks, how I should quit, etc. And normally I don't say anything but rather I just do whatever they want, so as to avoid a confrontation. Three miserable months were spent in Jeju-do, because my boss was such an incompetent moron, but I just put up with it and fumed at home, almost giving myself a stroke from anger and stress. (Actually, the left side of my body went numb for a while, it was so bad!)

But this time was different. And I promised myself I would no longer carry on in this way. No, I would simply tell them what's up. Tell them politely how I feel and let the chips fall where they may. At least I wouldn't have to be angry and the truth would be out there.

When I got home, I immediately composed an email, called my boss and said, "What's your email address, I'm sending you an email detailing why I'm NOT doing the private."

-- Uh, okaaaayyy.
-- You'll get it in 5 minutes. See ya.

One hour later I got a phone call back with an apology, a you're-so-emotional-comment, and you don't have to do the private, AND she'll try to get the other teacher quicker, so I don't have to finish the end of the month at the school.

The only reason she caved is because they don't own me like they own other western teachers. My marriage visa means I am a free man, coming and going as I please. I plan on using this freedom from now on.

-- Do I think it's a good idea?

2008-01-29T00:01:00.000-08:00

I don't know. Personally, absolutely not. But, then again, this is Korea. Is that what they want?
-- Yes, they love that.
-- Great, then send it to them. What can I say? If you ask someone from my country if it's a good idea to send someone a box of chopped up steer tail, you can be sure the answer is no. But this is Korea.
-- It's really popular here, honey.
-- Of course.

So went my wife and I's conversation today. Among the strange gift sets I've seen people here exchange, sending a $70 package of chopped up steer tail counts among the oddest. But it makes a good story for my friends back home. Hell, who among YOU has spent almost a hundred bucks on sending their in-laws a fancy package of cow tail?

My wife called her mother and confirmed.

Yes, they would love that for Lunar New Years gift.

Great, we don't even have to go shopping for a present. Just a few clicks away on the internet.

Japan must apologize

2008-01-26T20:43:00.000-08:00

Time to make fun of Korea. Since these are Korean guys doing it, I don't feel bad. Their accents are spot-on. Even though I've been here almost three years, I still can't do a good Korean accent impersonation. But these guys got it down.

Man Beaten to Death for Refusing to Drink

2008-01-26T20:26:00.000-08:00

I always say Korea is like a strange kind of bizarro-world -- maybe similar to George Bush's?

There's huge pressure to drink here with coworkers, but these guys went a little too far.

"Police arrested two construction workers on suspicion of beating their coworker to death for refusing to drink.

Gwanak Police in southern Seoul said Tuesday that the two offenders, identified only as Lee (42) and Chung (52), beat their colleague Chang (47) to death at another coworker's house in Shillim-dong, Seoul, Saturday.

The two beat the man because Chang refused to go out drinking with them, police officials said. They said their crime was unintentional.

According to the police, the two had beaten Chang habitually, who was mentally challenged. His ill health could have contributed to his death."

Digging into Amida Buddha

2008-01-24T16:29:00.000-08:00

---- tak, tak, tak,
---- Namu Amitabul, Namu Amitabul, Namu Amitabul...

Sitting there yesterday chanting to Amida, playing my moktak, I wondered on and off: "What am I doing? What is the real purpose of this?" Well, at least it's enjoyable and I reckon it's better than watching TV or surfing for the latest CNN headlines. But I wonder if my neighbor thinks a monk or fortune teller moved in next to him.*

I've been reading about Jodu Shinshu lately and trying to wrap my head around it. "Just have faith in Amida Buddha..." At first blush, I think, "Yeah, whatever. This is for lazy, naive people." However, there is *something* to it, something much deeper. This is what I want to explore in this blog entry.

The basic premise is that we cannot save ourselves with our own self-effort. So we have to let go and believe that Amida will save us if we simply call on him. Like I said, this sounds ridiculous, considering there is absolutely ZERO evidence for such a being called Amida Buddha. People doubt Jesus of Nazareth, but at least we know he was a real person. But Amida Buddha, a cosmic being who is the essence of all Being and Compassion, a being who will save us all, animals and insects included? Come on...

I'm not satisfied with this surface explanation, so I wonder: What is the reality of this whole Pureland business? Psychologically, spiritually, what is happening here? What does this story mean? What does it represent?

Here's what I have so far.

Actually this dynamic of surrender is found in other religious traditions as well. St. Paul talks about simply having faith in Christ -- Christianity is very much a self-surrender belief system. India is chock full of this Surrender idea. In many scriptural Hindu writings and in contemporary Hindu spirituality you find this manta: God is all there is, just let go -- which reminds me of pithy phrase during my Baptist Church youth camp days: "Let go and let God." I always liked that. It felt like I was was dropping a heavy suitcase that I had been carrying around for years.

This dynamic of letting go happens in Pureland as well. And with Shinran's teachings (Jodo Shinshu) we reach the apex of letting go -- you can't do anything on your own! All self-effort is futile, you are already saved. There's nothing more to be done.

What a relief.

Ramesh Balsekar, contemporary Advaita Vedanta (Hindu Nondualism)sage, teaches that we have no power, that the separate self is an illusion, and this illusion is causing us all of our problems. His teaching is radical and uncompromising: you can't do anything, so just give up. Give it to God. It doesn't matter what you think God is, the point is that when you look at your life, when you look at your whole history, you cannot really find anything that "you" did, that "you" are responsible for. If you watch your thoughts and actions closely, you come to realize that "you" are not doing any of it. Ramesh teaches that we are kind of puppets, empty vessels which the Divine plays for its own amusement. All of our struggles end in vain. And so do our efforts to improve ourselves, because it's out of our hands. We are not the authors of our lives. We are merely the characters.

Coming across Shinran's teaching reminds me of Ramesh. But Ramesh's teaching is kind of abstract. It's too hard to just let go, even if I do see that my thoughts come rushing from nowhere, out of a kind of energetic void. (Watch the origin of your thoughts long enough and you'll know what I mean!) Shinran puts a form to this teaching. And more importantly, in Jodu Shinshu one focuses on compassion and love. Amida is the most loving and compassionate deity out there. He saves you whether you like it or not! And this points to the deeper truth that we are already saved -- that there's nothing to do and nowhere to go, nothing to achieve, and nothing to worry about.

Sound familiar? Zen claims essentially the same thing, but then mucks it up by implying that thousands of hours of staring at a blank wall are necessary to realize this. But it's not. The only prerequisite is falling into the arms of just this. Just this moment as it is. And for the Amida devotee, this moment, just as it is, is supported by the loving gaze and compassionate rays of Amida's Light.

* In Korea, only monks and fortune tellers play the wooden bell-like instrument called a mok-tak. It's played in Buddhist temples along with chanting.

http://www.rameshbalsekar.com/

Top 10 Spiritual Must-Reads

2008-01-22T16:50:00.000-08:00

These are the books that impacted me most both spiritually and psychologically. (One might argue they are both basically the same thing!) I would say they are the most interesting, provocative, and in some cases, skillful books for understanding ourselves and the world. My list reflects my strong bias toward Gnana Yoga -- the intellectual, discriminating approach toward spirituality. In Buddhism, this is most closely related to Zen and Dzogchen. However, I also have a strong Bhakti -- devotional side, which is reflected in a couple of choices below.

1. J. Krishnaurti -- The First and Last Freedom. Anything by Krishnamurti is good, but this is my favorite. Krishna is a definite must-read.

2. Eckhart Tolle -- The Power of Now. Most of the most clear books on waking-up. He's teaching basic zen stripped of all the jargon. His personal story is also quite interesting.

3. Nisargadatta Maharaj -- I am That. This book delves into the heart of the matter by asking "What am I?" Maharaj was a simple, poor man living in Bombay selling cigarettes. He took his guru's advice to heart: Find out what you are, and you will be free.

4. U.G. Krishnamurti -- The Myth of Enlightenment. A provocative and original anti-guru. www.well.com/user/jct/ This quote sums it up: "To read U.G. is to be introduced to a "spiritual terrorist": he overturns all of our accepted beliefs -- God, mind, soul, enlightenment, religion, humanity, heart, love, relationships -- and gives us a totally different picture of who we are. The result is a grenade in the brain."

5. Byron Katie -- A Thousand Names for Joy and Loving What Is. Amazing books, the enlightened mind in action. Her four questions cut right to the core of our self-inflicted suffering.

6. Charlotte Joko Beck: Living Zen. Practical zen book for everday folks.

7. Toni Packer -- The Practice of Presence. Along the same vein as J. Krishnamurti.

8. Richard Schiffman -- Mother of All. Amazing book that will open your heart about a simple, saintly woman in India who was one of Richard's teachers. This woman was a natural sage and welcomed all who came to see her with open arms. A portrait of uncompromising love.

9. Bhagavad Gita -- This is my (and Gandhi's!) favorite religious scripture. Compassionate, wise, deep, and loving.

10. Tao Te Ching -- The heart of Zen and nondual wisdom.

I'd like to write more later about each of these books, but now my time is limited. If you read one of these, let me know what you think!