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Post by lightmystic on Aug 23, 2009 11:39:42 GMT -5
Thanks vacant.  I say that every seeker knows what it feels like, because they are seeking. There are many that don't think Enlightenment exists or is possible. They just firmly won't believe it. Those who are seekers are only those who know it is possible - not as a limited concept but as something deeper than can be said. It's a very gentle feeling. And that feeling is what is really driving us. Sure we have a lot of resistances and misconceptions about the feeling so it's not really appreciated, not really what we think it is, and not really going to look on the surface as we expect, but it's THERE. That feeling is the driving force, and the more we can relax into that feeling, without defining it, without judging ourselves, without deciding what it's going to look like on the surface, and with as much of the full passion expressed that we really feel towards it that we can, then it has a chance to really blossom. Nice to hear from you vacant. Wow, this is great stuff LM. Even from my obscured vision I feel the same. But... this I cannot say I know, can you say a bit more about that? And... just you mentioning it like that resonates, and I certainly take heart. Do keep up the good work. It's massively appreciated... |
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Post by zendancer on Aug 23, 2009 18:12:30 GMT -5
LM: Nice post. I'm always fascinated by how people are compelled to follow this path. For some people, it is a long list of existential questions and a desparate need to understand what's going on. Others are driven by a desparate need to know God--to somehow experience God face to face. One person I know always felt alienated and intuitively sensed that some sort of deep communion was possible--that is was possible to feel at-one with the universe. Some people are driven by fear or pain (Ramana's fear of death; Eckhart's pain of existence). Some people have very vivid memories of early childhood and intuitively set out trying to find the paradise they lost on the way to adulthood. Every story of the search is radically different, yet everybody finds the same thing in the end. The most important thing is to trust one's intuition about this 100% and to keep an open "don't know" mind. People who feel confused and are able to admit that they don't understand anything are actually very lucky (because the structures of thought have begun to collapse). Half of the battle is discovering how little we know and yet being willing to enter that unknownness like a little child. It reminds me of the story of the professor and the Japanese tea master. Have you heard that one?
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Post by lightmystic on Aug 23, 2009 21:20:48 GMT -5
No, I haven't heard that story, but I would like to. LM: Nice post. I'm always fascinated by how people are compelled to follow this path. For some people, it is a long list of existential questions and a desparate need to understand what's going on. Others are driven by a desparate need to know God--to somehow experience God face to face. One person I know always felt alienated and intuitively sensed that some sort of deep communion was possible--that is was possible to feel at-one with the universe. Some people are driven by fear or pain (Ramana's fear of death; Eckhart's pain of existence). Some people have very vivid memories of early childhood and intuitively set out trying to find the paradise they lost on the way to adulthood. Every story of the search is radically different, yet everybody finds the same thing in the end. The most important thing is to trust one's intuition about this 100% and to keep an open "don't know" mind. People who feel confused and are able to admit that they don't understand anything are actually very lucky (because the structures of thought have begun to collapse). Half of the battle is discovering how little we know and yet being willing to enter that unknownness like a little child. It reminds me of the story of the professor and the Japanese tea master. Have you heard that one? |
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Post by vacant on Aug 24, 2009 11:37:04 GMT -5
Ok LM, you're right. I know the feeling you are talking about and it IS there. Actually it's funny, from asking you that question and reading your reply, —and a day to digest it— I've come to wipe off some doubts about that feeling. I asked because mostly I go about this like feeling my way around a totally dark and unknown room, touching walls and furniture and stuff, and I can't say what the stuff looks like really, but there's a feeling, there's an acknowledgment AND there's a familiarity— yes, a familiarity. With this comes the certitude that not only enlightenment exists, but that I belong there (here).
And I get more and more at ease with the fact that I don't know what it's like, maybe because it's not a thing to know and/or maybe because there's nothing that it's like.
I hope I make sense.
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Post by vacant on Aug 24, 2009 11:49:18 GMT -5
Zendancer, for me There's definitely a recognizable inner call, which grows ever louder as I pay it attention. And very much a starving hunger to know what's true. As a young kid when I found out there was no Santa, my parents thought I would be disappointed. In fact I was not at all but I was angry to have been led to believe untruths.
Then of course there is that wretched pain of existence which you say compelled Eckhart.....
I have long thought, and held that thought as a healing sort of mantra on occasion, that the closest one gets to being found is in the acceptance of being lost. Is that close to what you mean by keeping a "don't know" mind? I have a Christian friend who vehemently disagrees with my statement.
Anyway, how about that tea master story?
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Post by lightmystic on Aug 25, 2009 9:37:56 GMT -5
Well described vacant! It's definitely not a "thing" to know, so that feeling really IS it, even though it seems to get infinitely clearer and more solid as time goes on and as a relationship to it develops more and more. But even though the relationship can change dramatically, that IS what it is, and it's found through that feeling and through letting go of things in the way of that feeling becoming stronger and clearer. It's not some other thing. It's just, as you said, that the feeling cannot be categorized in anyway, because it's on a deeper knowing level. The intellect, as I know you realize, cannot what it really is. Ok LM, you're right. I know the feeling you are talking about and it IS there. Actually it's funny, from asking you that question and reading your reply, —and a day to digest it— I've come to wipe off some doubts about that feeling. I asked because mostly I go about this like feeling my way around a totally dark and unknown room, touching walls and furniture and stuff, and I can't say what the stuff looks like really, but there's a feeling, there's an acknowledgment AND there's a familiarity— yes, a familiarity. With this comes the certitude that not only enlightenment exists, but that I belong there (here). And I get more and more at ease with the fact that I don't know what it's like, maybe because it's not a thing to know and/or maybe because there's nothing that it's like. I hope I make sense. |
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Post by Peter on Aug 26, 2009 4:58:57 GMT -5
Hi Divinity, welcome to the board. I've been away for a few weeks, so I've just caught up with your postings which I appreciated reading. I asked that question because that is the most asked question I get from people I speak with. What advice do you give them? It's something I've been thinking about for the past year or so, since deciding that I don't want to take my career any further. Had kids, bought a house. Now what? I asked a retreat teacher about purpose and he said that humans ascribe purpose to things. Trains are easy to understand, they obviously have a purpose because we designed them to carry things from A to B. That's what they're supposed to do. Bees pollinate plants and make honey. Can we say that's their purpose? It's not so obvious there, nature seems to make everything fit so well, every niche gets taken up. Bees solve a problem of moving pollen about. Lions solve the problem of gazelle overpopulation. What problems are humans solving, or are we just causing them? I suppose the question is: Is there extrinsic purpose? If (as a higher self) I've chosen to incarnate in order to learn lessons and 'grow', then it may be that those lessons will come my way regardless of how I choose to spend my time...but that's not to say that the choice is irrelevant or that it's not also part of the lesson.. |
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Post by divinity on Aug 26, 2009 13:46:06 GMT -5
Peter...
I have been doing what people call "readings" since I was 10 years old, when my Mom taught me. I have read and studied under many good people over the years and have done my readings for literally thousands up and down both coasts. I really don't give people advice as in telling them what to do... one doesn't ever know what another person should do. Through investigation of their concern, I get them in touch with their internal high knowledge which results in them having a realization as to the problem. Most often their change of perception of the problem or concern results in their change of attitude and behavior which resolves the difficulty, or at least gives relief as they continue to work on it. When we change, everyone around us is forced to change in some way or other. It's so rewarding to watch the change in those who arrived dejected and depressed as they hug me and leave smiling.
Yes, humans give the meanings to everything... we literally choose how to see "reality" and actually create our realities with our perceptions and attitudes. Yes, we do create our problems. There are many people who have come to need their problems who really don't want to give them up. Without their problems, their identities are gone, or so they fear will be the case.
I agree that our higher self did choose to come here for learning and experiencing and creating of course.
It seems to me from my experience that there is no purpose physically but to nourish the planet... so you can make up any additional purpose that resonates and makes your soul sing.
I hope this is helpful.
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Post by zendancer on Aug 29, 2009 16:17:45 GMT -5
Divinity, LM, Vacant, et al: I just got back from climbing some mountains in Colorado (getting to the summit of Long's Peak was a real struggle!), and just started catching up on these boards. At the age of about twenty, I, too, was driven by the question, "What is the purpose of life?" and "What is MY purpose in life?" There are several Zen koans along this same line. If someone were to ask me right now, "What is the purpose of your life," I would say, "Sitting here typing a note to some people on a website." My purpose is always here and now in this moment. I have no idea what will happen five minutes from now, but this moment is always crystal clear. The usual question that people are asking is highly abstract and points to something imaginary ("What do you want to be when you grow up?" is the variation we lay on children as we work to get them out of the present moment and interested in an imaginary future). The idea of purpose is just an idea, but what is the living truth? If we give up the story of me, then why are we here?
The story about the tea master comes from Japan. Apparently there was a highly educated professor of philosophy at a university who heard about a deeply enlightened tea master.
In Japan the Zen tradition has permeated the culture and people have realized that people in many walks of life can be masters. They have master of Zen, masters of flower arranging, masters of archery (Herrigel has a great book about studying under such a master), masters of painting, masters of martial arts, masters of landscape design, and even masters of the tea ceremony. The tea ceremony is very famous in Japan and needs to be seen in person to be appreciated. To become a master, someone must have spent years and years practicing the ceremony until personal selfhood has disappeared and only the activity remains. In a sense, there is no separate individual there to perform the ceremony. From a high-speed westerner's perspective, the tea ceremony will seem slow and boring, but the Japanese get into it in a big way. The master serving tea basically brews tea, stirs the tea leaves with a little brush, and eventually serves the tea to his guests. It is an everyday task raised to the level of an art and each small movement is appreciated for both its beauty and its ultimate emptiness.
At any rate, the professor heard that a particular tea master was deeply enlightened and he wanted to meet him. So, he learns where the guy lives in the woods and goes to his little cottage. He introduces himself to the tea master, explains that he's come to learn about reality from the master. The master is very humble, welcomes the professor to his cottage, and offers him a seat. He then begins to prepare tea. The professor begins to tell the tea master all of his ideas about the world. He talks and talks and talks. Meanwhile, the tea master prepares the tea in silence. After the tea is ready, the tea master walks over and begins to pour tea into the professor's cup. The professor, of course, is still talking. After the tea master fills the cup, he keeps on pouring until the tea spills over the side of the cup and splashes onto the floor. The professor is so shocked that he stops talking about his ideas and shouts, "Tea Master, my cup is full; no more will go in." The tea master stops pouring tea, looks at the professor, and says, "Like this cup, your mind is full; no more will go in."
When a teacher meets a student who says, "I don;t understand anything," the teacher feels very optimistic because such a statement means that the student is capable of being taught. Zen Master Suzuki wrote a book titled, "Zen Mind, Beginner's Mind," and the point of his book is that if we want to learn anything, we have to have a mind like a beginner--open, enthusiastic, and not-knowing. When a teacher meets someone like the professor in the above story, there is almost nothing to say. Why? Because it is obvious that no words can penetrate the student's ideas and delusions. The best that we can say to someone who is deeply attached to his/her ideas is, "Spend some time in silence." Maybe we tell them to try breath counting, or breath awareness, or a mantra, but we have to encourage them to calm down what Zen calls "monkey mind." Monkey mind is a bit like a person with ADD; the mind just jumps around from idea to idea and can't really hear anything being said to it.
I was recently in a conversation with a good friend and his wife. The man is a very wealthy businessperson, and he is relatively open-minded. I said something to him about health care and his wife burst out with, "But that's socialism!" I patiently explained about various complex issues associated with health care and discussed options that might or might not improve the existing system. After a few moments, something was said and the guy's wife again burst out with, "But that communism!" Her whole world had been reduced to two or three sets of ideas that were like hot buttons. Touch a hot button and out would come one word that summed up all of her thoughts. Like the professor in the story, her mind was full, and no more would go in. It is very hard to have a conversation with someone who only hears what he, himself, is thinking and has shut out everything else.
On this website we have people who are so lost in their minds that nothing anyone can say to them will ever penetrate their ideas. By contrast, we have other people here who are very open minded. Those are the people who are capable of learning something. Cheers.
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Post by Peter on Aug 31, 2009 9:11:14 GMT -5
They have master of Zen, masters of flower arranging, masters of archery (Herrigel has a great book about studying under such a master), masters of painting, masters of martial arts, masters of landscape design, and even masters of the tea ceremony. I was on a flight last week (Easyjet, interestingly) and I watched the most amazing flight safety demonstration ever. Seriously, it was about the most Zen thing I think I've ever seen. Every finger, every move, every look had a air of considered practice and presence about it. Every gesture had purpose, nothing was unnecessary. It was most enjoyable to watch. The guy was in the zone. On this website we have people who are so lost in their minds that nothing anyone can say to them will ever penetrate their ideas. By contrast, we have other people here who are very open minded. Those are the people who are capable of learning something. Cheers. Yes. Well that brought up a lot for me. I was tempted to dare you to name names and pull a Matthew 10:34 on the forum. I also considered my own cup and whether I'm here to drink or to pour (the answer being both. As one cannot pour into a full cup, neither can one pour from an empty one. So now we're looking at percentage full (if you're an optimist)). I also considered my own resentment towards teachers. The "I know and you don't" situation/attitude that provokes a "prove it" response. Ego ego ego. I also considered that people with full cups (or teapots) can still be helpful if their tea is tasty and freely given. I suppose the question there is: Who is offering to pour freely to those that wish to receive, and who is demanding that people tip out their cups and receive a top-up? You, ZenDancer, seem to be offering to pour (and correct me if I'm wrong here) but you also equate having full cup with being "lost in the mind", which I'm sure you wouldn't apply to yourself. Although I certainly haven't noticed you asking any questions yet! But I don't remove myself from this equation either. |
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Post by zendancer on Aug 31, 2009 13:27:02 GMT -5
Peter: I'm glad that you have a "prove it" attitude, and I encourage people to be skeptical. What we're looking for is direct experience, and some teachers know how to point out the direction to that and others don;t. Take everything that teachers say with a grain of salt and find out for yourself what is true and what is not. If you truly want to know something, just bear in mind what you want to know and the universe will come to your aid.
As for the airline attendant, yes, when you see someone in the zone, it is quite an amazing thing. He/she is one-with the activity; personal selfhood gets lost in the activity. When you, yourself, are in the zone, you don't know it reflectively, but afterwards, you realize that you were outside of time and space for a while. Many athletes have this experience. I experienced it once while playing tennis. I became one-with the activity and seemed to know where the ball was going to go before my opponent even hit it. I lost all sense of time for about twenty minutes and it was an extraordinary experience. I made previously impossible shots because "I" wasn't there thinking about how to make the shots. One of my passions is hiking and climbing mountains and I think one of things that mountain climbers get into is a kind of unity consciousness. They become so focused opon their activity that they get lost in it. It is a kind of peak experience (no pun intended) and the extreme climbers find the one-mindedness and timelessness a kind of addiction. Unfortunately, they rarely learn that there is a way to live ordinary daily life in the same way (by focusing on the here and now of each activity).
I enjoy this website because there are many interesting discussions here. My perspective and experiences are based upon what happened to me during an intense thirty-five year search for the truth. If I can offer a helpful hint now and then, or save someone from following a dead-end pathway, it makes my day. I was a do-it-yourselfer, and although I encountered many excellent teachers (Zen Master Seung Sahn, Gangaji, Ramesh Balsekar, etc), I was never a follower. I tried all kinds of things in an effort to understand what was going on, and I pursued many different practices. In general, I followed the Buddha's advice that can be summarized as, "Doubt everything," "Trust your own direct experience," "Be still," and "Be a lamp unto yourself." My search came to an end on August 17, 1999, and I was never again bothered by any kind of existential question. I suppose some sort of question could arise that I would need to find an answer to, but it hasn't happened in the last ten years. If a question arose, I would simply set aside some time to silently contemplate the issue, and I'm sure that the answer would soon appear. I have a deep trust in the universe and have learned that it will respond to all serious requests.
The path to truth leads from imagination to direct experience in the present moment. As the mind gets quiet (is watched without responding to it), there is a gradual transition to the immediacy of Now. After we start interacting with reality directly, in the here and now, life becomes pretty simple. We do what we have to do, and after that, we do the next thing that we have to do. We lose interest in abstractions about life and, instead, just live it. Reality is seen to be infinitely mysterious and infinitely deep. The deeper one goes, the more ones sees only perfection. Cheers.
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Post by lightmystic on Aug 31, 2009 13:53:55 GMT -5
Beginner's mind is the most blessed, lucky, wonderful state as far as I'm concerned. Who could be more lucky than to have the mind of a beginner? That is why spiritual teachers teach. After all, what's the point of talking about it all the time if not to learn? I love talking about this stuff because, in every question or issue addressed, I am being asked to go even more deeply into my own experience, learning more and more. Always learning. Otherwise, we might as well just pack up the Creation and go home. Divinity, LM, Vacant, et al: I just got back from climbing some mountains in Colorado (getting to the summit of Long's Peak was a real struggle!), and just started catching up on these boards. At the age of about twenty, I, too, was driven by the question, "What is the purpose of life?" and "What is MY purpose in life?" There are several Zen koans along this same line. If someone were to ask me right now, "What is the purpose of your life," I would say, "Sitting here typing a note to some people on a website." My purpose is always here and now in this moment. I have no idea what will happen five minutes from now, but this moment is always crystal clear. The usual question that people are asking is highly abstract and points to something imaginary ("What do you want to be when you grow up?" is the variation we lay on children as we work to get them out of the present moment and interested in an imaginary future). The idea of purpose is just an idea, but what is the living truth? If we give up the story of me, then why are we here? The story about the tea master comes from Japan. Apparently there was a highly educated professor of philosophy at a university who heard about a deeply enlightened tea master. In Japan the Zen tradition has permeated the culture and people have realized that people in many walks of life can be masters. They have master of Zen, masters of flower arranging, masters of archery (Herrigel has a great book about studying under such a master), masters of painting, masters of martial arts, masters of landscape design, and even masters of the tea ceremony. The tea ceremony is very famous in Japan and needs to be seen in person to be appreciated. To become a master, someone must have spent years and years practicing the ceremony until personal selfhood has disappeared and only the activity remains. In a sense, there is no separate individual there to perform the ceremony. From a high-speed westerner's perspective, the tea ceremony will seem slow and boring, but the Japanese get into it in a big way. The master serving tea basically brews tea, stirs the tea leaves with a little brush, and eventually serves the tea to his guests. It is an everyday task raised to the level of an art and each small movement is appreciated for both its beauty and its ultimate emptiness. At any rate, the professor heard that a particular tea master was deeply enlightened and he wanted to meet him. So, he learns where the guy lives in the woods and goes to his little cottage. He introduces himself to the tea master, explains that he's come to learn about reality from the master. The master is very humble, welcomes the professor to his cottage, and offers him a seat. He then begins to prepare tea. The professor begins to tell the tea master all of his ideas about the world. He talks and talks and talks. Meanwhile, the tea master prepares the tea in silence. After the tea is ready, the tea master walks over and begins to pour tea into the professor's cup. The professor, of course, is still talking. After the tea master fills the cup, he keeps on pouring until the tea spills over the side of the cup and splashes onto the floor. The professor is so shocked that he stops talking about his ideas and shouts, "Tea Master, my cup is full; no more will go in." The tea master stops pouring tea, looks at the professor, and says, "Like this cup, your mind is full; no more will go in." When a teacher meets a student who says, "I don;t understand anything," the teacher feels very optimistic because such a statement means that the student is capable of being taught. Zen Master Suzuki wrote a book titled, "Zen Mind, Beginner's Mind," and the point of his book is that if we want to learn anything, we have to have a mind like a beginner--open, enthusiastic, and not-knowing. When a teacher meets someone like the professor in the above story, there is almost nothing to say. Why? Because it is obvious that no words can penetrate the student's ideas and delusions. The best that we can say to someone who is deeply attached to his/her ideas is, "Spend some time in silence." Maybe we tell them to try breath counting, or breath awareness, or a mantra, but we have to encourage them to calm down what Zen calls "monkey mind." Monkey mind is a bit like a person with ADD; the mind just jumps around from idea to idea and can't really hear anything being said to it. I was recently in a conversation with a good friend and his wife. The man is a very wealthy businessperson, and he is relatively open-minded. I said something to him about health care and his wife burst out with, "But that's socialism!" I patiently explained about various complex issues associated with health care and discussed options that might or might not improve the existing system. After a few moments, something was said and the guy's wife again burst out with, "But that communism!" Her whole world had been reduced to two or three sets of ideas that were like hot buttons. Touch a hot button and out would come one word that summed up all of her thoughts. Like the professor in the story, her mind was full, and no more would go in. It is very hard to have a conversation with someone who only hears what he, himself, is thinking and has shut out everything else. On this website we have people who are so lost in their minds that nothing anyone can say to them will ever penetrate their ideas. By contrast, we have other people here who are very open minded. Those are the people who are capable of learning something. Cheers. |
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Post by Peter on Sept 1, 2009 5:56:18 GMT -5
My search came to an end on August 17, 1999 The day after your 56th birthday? Nice birthday present. Thanks for taking the time to write a full response ZenD, I'm glad you didn't take offence. Question for you (and all) in the Question Thread. Who could be more lucky than to have the mind of a beginner? That is why spiritual teachers teach. After all, what's the point of talking about it all the time if not to learn? Well not that it applies to you LM, but I think a lot of teachers (spiritual and otherwise) get quite a lot from the "Gosh You're So Learned" energy payback from the student. Having a number of people give your their focus and attention (not to mention time and money) is very stimulating. I think Gurdjieff was of the opinion that a developed person would require to take on students at some point in order to progress The Work further. And I have yet to meet any teacher (at least on any sort of organised course) who came over as having beginner mind. All the teachers I've met have been keen to establish their credentials early doors and even maintain an 'aura' of authority. Cheers, Peter |
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Post by lightmystic on Sept 1, 2009 10:30:43 GMT -5
It's true that it can be tricky, because if the teacher has too much appearance of beginner mind, then people won't treat him/her as a teacher. And what good is a teacher that no one thinks is worth listening to? Now, I'm not sure what you mean by credentials, but it seems like anyone who is using some outside thing, other than their own internal knowing, as a point of teaching is likely not a teacher worth listening to in terms of Enlightenment. It can be great for healing work or self development or whatever, but anyone who think Enlightenment has to do with something or someone else is not really understanding what it is. You also point to a big problem I have with the spiritual community in general. It's true that believing someone is "higher" than you can let you be open to experiencing more than you would otherwise, but I feel like the way a lot of spiritual teachers talk puts them on a pedestal. It puts a wall between them and the student, when nothing could be more ludicrous or ridiculous. As far as I'm concerned, students should be feeling "well if HE/SHE can do it, then I can too, because they're not that different than me. They just have the direct knowing of who they are, and they can help direct me." Other than just not being honest with oneself, putting it, or a teacher, on a pedestal removes the experience from the student. The very fact that the student thinks the teacher is highly evolved is only because the student is having a cooler experience when around the teacher. And it's STUDENT having that experience. Isn't it time the student start taking credit for their own experience? They must be having it on some quiet (though as of yet unsatisfying) level or they wouldn't even know to want it! So it's important that a teacher is recognized to be a regular person no matter how awesome they also are. If one person thinks the teacher is being a jerk, then the person might be having an issue. If everyone thinks the teacher is being a jerk about something, then they really ought to tell him. Anyway, I can get off my soap box now. I certainly recognize that many teachers don't appear to have beginner mind. A good test, as far as I can see (although it's not definitive by any means) is if the teacher periodically appears to be learning something - either from talking about it or from something another student says. That seems like a good indication to me. But it's not that simple of course. Anyway, I know what you mean by saying that many teachers do not appear to have beginners mind. But of course that statement would never apply to me.  Who could be more lucky than to have the mind of a beginner? That is why spiritual teachers teach. After all, what's the point of talking about it all the time if not to learn? Well not that it applies to you LM, but I think a lot of teachers (spiritual and otherwise) get quite a lot from the "Gosh You're So Learned" energy payback from the student. Having a number of people give your their focus and attention (not to mention time and money) is very stimulating. I think Gurdjieff was of the opinion that a developed person would require to take on students at some point in order to progress The Work further. And I have yet to meet any teacher (at least on any sort of organised course) who came over as having beginner mind. All the teachers I've met have been keen to establish their credentials early doors and even maintain an 'aura' of authority. Cheers, Peter |
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Post by zendancer on Sept 1, 2009 10:48:26 GMT -5
Peter: First of all, you need to meet some better teachers! LOL. Most of the ones I've met have been pretty amazing with no sense of self-aggrandizement. The first teacher I met in 1984 was Mu Deung Sunim, a Korean/American Zen teacher in the Quan Um tradition. He later became a Zen Master, but he was terrific and extremely helpful. I then met Zen Master Seung Sahn, who was unimaginably clear--a fantastic teacher who was only interested in helping people wake up. I then met at least five or six other great teachers in the Zen tradition. Later, I had an encounter with Gangaji, and she was like a crystal-clear mirror. At one point I went to see Byron Katie, and she was another great teacher. Then, there was Mahaghosananda, Ramesh Balsekar, and so many others I met who were only interested in pointing to the truth. Maybe I was lucky.
In general, its a good idea to run away if money is involved, or if a teacher seems to need followers. The good teachers have no interest in money or self-centered devotion and are only interested in telling people how to find the truth.
Gurdjieff was a far-out dude, but I would be surprised if he thought that anything needed to be done to make the work progress. The idea that anything needs to progress sounds way too abstract to me. Most teachers simply enjoy teaching and interacting with interested students because its fun--the highest form of play. Zen Master Seung Sahn was similar to the famous Chinese Zen Master, Yun-Men, in that he was simply "mad to teach." SS is now dead, but he was so much fun to watch in action. He was constantly throwing out bait with which to hook people. One night he gave a public talk in which he said that women could not get enlightened. After his talk, one of his long-time female students came up to him and said, "SS, why did you say that women cannot get enlightened." SS put on a feigned expression of surprise and asked, "Oh, are you a woman?" His student realized that she had been hooked by his words, and she loved to tell this story afterwards.
There are literally hundreds of stories like this. Two of my favorite about Gurdjieff may have been apochryphal, but they're funny anyway. He had a student who was so lost in his head that he told him to take a shovel and start digging a trench two feet wide by two feet deep in a particular direction. The guy worked like a dog, but after a while he began to have second thoughts. He went to Gurdjieff to find out if he was doing everything correctly, but Gurdjieff said, "I'm sorry. I made a mistake. Keep digging, but throw away the shovel and start using a spoon!" I don;t know if the student acquired any insight from this, but its a great story.
Gurdjieff supposedly had a female student who he thought had acquired enough understanding to stop being a follower. He called for her and just cussed her out. He told her that she was a lousy student, was stupid, and that he never wanted to see her again. Unable to stand in her own truth and see-through what Gurdjieff was doing, she walked off dejected and never came back. She obviously wasn't as far along as Gurdjieff had thought. If she had attained a sufficient degree of self-realization, she could cussed out Gurdjieff for being a lousy teacher and shown that she could play the game as well as he could.
ZM SS once had a rich female student who followed him all over the world from city to city. Finally, after many months he confronted her and said, "Following a teacher for a while is okay, but getting attached to a teacher is no good. You need to find another teacher because you're not learning what you need to know from me."
One time during a public talk that ZMSS was giving I waited until no one had any questions and I raised my hand to ask a question. I then shot SS a bird and growled "What is this?" with the meanest look I could put on my face. SS didn't hesitate. He instantly shot a bird back at me and said, "Just this!" Then he circled his arm in a panorama to include the whole roomfull of people and finished by saying, "And its not a finger." Only a few people in the room laughed. The others were in a state of shock. In what other spiritual tradition can teaching about the truth be this much fun? Cheers.
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Wow, this is great stuff LM.
