Reality and Meaninglessness

The dignity of a man lies in his ability to face reality in all its meaninglessness. - Martin Esslin in the Zen Calendar (September 9, 2003).

Day 219. Oh, yeah, I am totally over that whole ego thing. I've transcended mine entirely. Can't even remember what that sucker looks like. That must explain why every night, once I have coaxed the dinosaur to produce a blogger screen, the first thing I do is look to see if I have any new followers. This occurs just prior to my shameless act of checking to see if any comments have been posted. Sure glad this endeavor is centered around the premise that there is nothing to attain. Because I definitely have not attained separation from my ego. Despite my best efforts, elements of it cling to me like freckles on a redhead.

I wonder how many blogs I can write to address the redundant topic of swimming in the sea of despair. I am pretty sure the shelves of Borders' are resplendent with published antidotes for this malady. Not to mention the published anecdotes ABOUT this malady. Most of the authors have the same initials after their name as me. The target audience for this particular book genre seems to be unquenchable. Evidently, the waters of that sea run extremely deep.

It is intriguing to impassively observe how the practice of zen manifests in my life. It certainly hasn't halted calamities like concussions, unanticipated economic hurtles, twelve-hour workdays, gluten contamination, relational chaos and hamstring cramps. What it has lessened is the emotional energy I expend on these life circumstances. The wattage is definitely diminishing. I often picture the expression of equanimity on Buddha's face. I try to mimic it. It's not that I don't feel emotions. The change is that I don't have emotion about the emotions I'm having. How quintessentially Zen. Besides, everything is impermanent. Even really juicy misery dries up eventually.

So I just keep facing reality in all of its meaninglessness. I try not to get bogged down by a concept as inconsequential as meaning. The here-and-now pretty reliably points me to a right action. And if the action doesn't turn out to be right, the wrongness of it points me to something else (which, interestingly, sometimes turns out to be non action). It sounds like I am speaking nonsensically, like the Mad Hatter at Alice's tea party (alas, those last two words in succession have been ruined for me forever). I suspect the Mad Hatter was Buddhist. You can get away with uttering a lot of word salad by attributing it to Zen. Nobody remotely understands it, so they can't substantially argue with you. Sort of like listening to music and nodding as you sigh, "Ahhhhh, Bach." The statement doesn't provoke much debate.

I must have a whopping lot of dignity because my ability to face reality is growing in spades. Which is an interesting attestation for someone who was identifying with the Mad Hatter a mere paragraph ago.

Gassho,
CycleBuddhaDoc