Sorry, Universe. My bad.

To be a fool and to know when you’re being one are radically different concepts.  Only having made small steps back onto the path has yielded rewards beyond measure.  As I peck this pithy little update my house is aflutter with no less than three people scrubbing, sweeping, wiping and cheerily penetrating every nook and cranny to be found.  The laundry machine is humming, my extra furniture has been finally moved after sitting at my door for nearly six weeks, and there are projects to clean windows, and repaint in the works.  All this transpired in a matter of hours. 

With great joy I’ve gotten the news that a new home for the cats has been found.  One short trip to the vet for the girl and they’re ready to embark on their next chapter.  My chronic sniffling, scratchy throat, and paranoia that the next guest will be the one to let them out, will finally end. The little furry statues that stare at me and remind me of a past I’d rather forget are going to have new bottom lips to claw, new guest’s luggage to destroy, and new dinners to get hair in.  I love them, but I also loved other things too. 

I’ve started my notes.  I have a new list of 9 intentions.  I have a new todo, and some short and long-term shopping goals.  I am working on a get-out-of-debt plan.  I ran 6k.  I will start pounding out articles and audio edits for my clients again today.  Someone from Channel 11 wants to interview me.  I will breathe, and enjoy the moment.  It’s only 1:30pm. 

Sorry about the previous post, Universe.  My bad.

"You’re blog is boring"

I really have succumbed to frustration in the past few weeks.  I feel that I’m allowing simple things to become barriers in what was an otherwise clear and straight path.  Work, and how I approach it, is but one example.  I heard a great question asked of an employee in another company here that was to the effect of, “How much longer do you plan on trying to please someone you don’t like, or respect, for barely enough money to get by?”  Eeek.  Fortunately, I understand that people are in our lives for a reason and why we don’t find them easy to get along with is simply that they represent those qualities in ourselves that we deny exist.  Or something else. 

I still think about my marriage – every day.  I wake up and she’s in my head.  I ride the bus, walk the streets, eat breakfast, she’s there.  It’s getting easier to live with(out), nonetheless it’s a presence.  I’ve been studying the idea of entrainment.  This notion that brainwaves synchronize between living things and that bond exists outside the boundaries of space and time.  Like the dog sitting watch at an owners grave I’m finding that I can rationalize “moving on”, but have yet to manifest that emotionally.  Here’s the thing:  Emotional healing seems to be on its own timetable.  This doesn’t appear to be something one can force, think into being, or shoehorn into a perception of reality.  Emotions may be an expression of the soul rather than a chemical response in the brain, and any expression of the non-local intelligence must be observed and dealt with with calm and peace.  Perhaps as I’ve been shifting from a place of peace and awareness back into frustration and everyday consciousness, the emotions that have been well-managed to now are being given the chance to cultivate again.  If you don’t keep the house clean and tidy the dust and grime will eventually make you ill.

I’m convinced now that every time I have a beer I am trying to escape, or better put, delay reality.  Yes, I love the taste of beer on a hot day (we get a lot of them in Central America).  Sure, there are times when I ‘deserve’ a cocktail.  But as I start pulling my little, yellow note pads out again, notice my maid’s not been here for a month, clackety-clack on this keyboard, feel the rust in my fingers, sense the grease and fat in my veins, and notice how I’ve dwelled on the past and been anxious of the future, I see again where I was and how quickly I must get back to where I was going.  My house needs a deep clean. 

I love my friends because they tell me when I suck.  “You’re blog is boring.”  “You haven’t written anything good since the Star Wars reviews.”  I love my boss because he tells me when I’m wrong.  I love my clients because they understand why I fall behind, but won’t let me away with it so long that I can procrastinate further.  I love my landlord because he reminds me that I share space in this universe with others and their agendas.  I love my maid because she reminds me of what it feels like when someone says they’ll do something, and doesn’t.  I love my cats because they remind me that I’m not ‘there’ yet.  There’s hair everywhere.

Write something every day.  Make lists.  Say ‘yes’ more than ‘no’.  Don’t over commit.  Make time for yourself.  Meditate.  Express gratitude.  Yield.  Run.  Hike.  Create.  Play the guitar.  Learn a new inversion on piano.  Shut up.  Where’d I go?

Verse 2 in Prose

At times I enjoy taking various translations of the Tao Te Ching and reformatting them into prose.  This view of the ancient texts, I feel, provides insights otherwise not readily considered by the reader.  Having allowed some events in recent days to cause me anxiety, I felt a revisit of the second verse might bring some wisdom.  I thought I’d share my studies this day.

"All in the world know the beauty of the beautiful, and in doing this they have (the idea of) what ugliness is; they all know the skill of the skillful, and in doing this they have (the idea of) what the want of skill is.

So it is that existence and non-existence give birth the one to (the idea of) the other; that difficulty and ease produce the one (the idea of) the other; that length and shortness fashion out the one the figure of the other; that (the ideas of) height and lowness arise from the contrast of the one with the other; that the musical notes and tones become harmonious through the relation of one with another; and that being before and behind give the idea of one following another. Therefore the sage manages affairs without doing anything, and conveys his instructions without the use of speech. All things spring up, and there is not one which declines to show itself; they grow, and there is no claim made for their ownership; they go through their processes, and there is no expectation (of a reward for the results). The work is accomplished, and there is no resting in it (as an achievement). The work is done, but how no one can see; 'Tis this that makes the power not cease to be."

by Lao-tzu

J. Legge, Translator

(Sacred Books of the East, Vol 39) [1891]

Can I really disconnect from my work and life for 11 days?

“Maybe you’ll discover that you are already who you are supposed to be”.   That’s what Ajita told me today over a frozen green tea whose flavors I likened to a frozen air freshener or the cold, milky secretions of blended mulch.  Preparing myself to apply for the vipaśyanā retreat is more than just filling out an application and hoping.  I truly sense that completing this form and submitting it is equal to the commitment of going.  For those that don’t know what I’m talking about, vipaśyanā mediation is one of the world's most ancient techniques of meditation, which was re-discovered by Gautama Buddha.  It is a practice of self-transformation through self-observation and introspection to the extent that sitting with a steadfast mind becomes an active experience of change and impermanence.[1] There are global retreats consisting of 11 days of silence, careful diet, guided meditation, and the opportunity to disconnect from everyday distraction to a level where greater introspection can begin.  I have assigned Ajita (unbeknownst to her) as my guru and guide toward a greater state of awareness.  She has agreed to endorse my application and drive me to whatever secret jungle locale the meditation course will take place.  Here are my concerns (thus far):

Can I really disconnect from my work and life for 11 days?

That’s a huge question.  On one hand, it is arrogant to believe that I’m so greatly needed that the world would stop spinning if I got off it for a couple days.  What sort of work do I manage so poorly that it couldn’t be self-sustaining for a few revolutions of the planet?  It’s not the “never take a vacation unless you want to show them how unnecessary you are” silliness.  On the other hand, I worry making this commitment will demonstrate how dependent I’ve become on being needed.  Perhaps this is as necessary for them to be without me as I without them. 

Am I prepared to see my soul in its raw, naked form?

I think we’re really good at living at the level of the “local I”.  The flesh, mind, patterns, and ego that get us through the day-to-day drudgery of living on a local plane are indeed sufficient tools for getting the job done – even if just barely.  This meaty vehicle comes with a need to be praised, qualified, craves attention, feels above or beneath others, and believes it to be apart from everyone and everything.  It has the blind audacity to be a wave on a great ocean and declare itself to be the ocean.   It is a sunbeam through a window declaring itself to be the sun.  Within this is a soul quietly observing the absurdity of our self-imposed dramas, laughing at our ignorance, and wanting to whisper in our ear that the secrets we think are so well hidden are in fact carried inside us at all times.  I wonder if I’ve only ever glimpsed “me”, and worry that I’m not sure I’m willing to admit that Corey Coates is not who I really am.  It’s nice to think our personality, our relationships, our stuff, is who we are.  But we cower in the corner and deny that we know it isn’t. 

Is the daily sense of connectedness I seek already with me?

I go back to the simple notion brought up over tea that I’m already being who I was destined to be and that (as I preach but rarely consider) the path is the destiny.  I’m on it; therefore I’ve always just arrived.  Going to this retreat does not bring with it unrealistic expectations.  I’m not imagining that I’ll come out enlightened or somehow changed.  I still refuse to wear a leather bracelet and grow a ponytail, though I am going online to look at Jedi costumes to wear after this posting.  But I suppose I’m afraid that I’ll spend 11 days in the jungle to discover what I’m already on the path to understanding.  Perhaps this is a necessary step. 

There are a great many things conspiring around me and there are many hints I’ve not heeded.  I keep cycling back to fear, addictions, failed relationships, anxiety, etc.  How can I make the perfection of my mornings carry through the day?  Why have I stopped running again?  How many times am I going to fill my fridge with the ingredients of success and stop by the restaurants to gorge on the foods of failure?  Next week is my one-year anniversary for the day I stopped smoking.  The reason I did is because my very being wanted to stop.  I suppose I have to be patient and work towards coming to that sensation with some of the other matters.

I don’t know.  As always, that’s the point.

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[1] http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Vipassan%C4%81

Fortunately, the abundance and provisions I require literally grow on trees.

I’ve been living lean since Friday of last week.  I spent my last $4 recently and have been using this opportunity to align myself more with the Great Way (Tao).  It’s been an up and down journey thus far.  I sit here in my home now with no power, no Internet, and boiling a pot of rice that I had to borrow from my neighbors.  I’m seeing abundance around me and somehow feel increasingly grateful for the way our universe seems to provide just-in-time nourishment, gifts, and connections provided that we open ourselves to them.  Modesty may be the lesson learned here, but I’m not yet sure.  My mini odyssey of miracles has been most intriguing.  Though pseudo-magical thinking and all its trappings has admittedly been a factor, I’m still convinced I’m on the right path, and that my financial woes are perfectly timed.

I adore fresh fruit.  Costa Rica is a bounty of tropical wonders and the fruit is no exception.  A few days back I was a touch remiss that I hadn’t the means to grab a mango for breakfast.  The craving for this specific fruit weighed heavily on my mind.  After venturing out and eyeing up the neighboring trees for a reachable piece, I had all but given up on the possibility.  When I returned from my errands and began the ascent up my hill, a little, yellow and green, ovular object started rolling toward me.  Its trajectory was unmistakable and I denied with every closing meter what I knew in my heart it was.  This little, perfectly ripe mango had just fallen from a tree, found its way undisturbed to the middle of the road, and was making a beeline for me.  I knelt down, extended my arm, laid my fingers on the road, and waiting patiently until it finally found its way into my palm.  With a gentle grasp I welcomed this gift and thanked whatever or whoever could do such a thing in such sublime, poetic fashion.  I placed it in my bag and continued toward my home – somewhat slower in pace and heavier in gratitude.

Yesterday I was waiting for my second bus to arrive.  I was travelling to a class in Lindora.  Though the skies threatened rain, it didn’t.  I was counting my change.  I had just enough to get to class and return.  There would be little to spare, and certainly not enough to buy dinner.  Yet another crossroads was before me where I could choose to focus on scarcity, or trust in abundance.  I chose the latter.  I gazed around and my eyes were drawn to two golden discs nestled in the dirt.  Someone had dropped a 500 and 100 colones coin.  That $1.20 would be enough to buy a cup of noodles and small can of mixed vegetables for dinner. 

I’ll spare you of the tale where I meditated by the river and shook a mandarin tree this morning, but I’m sure you get the gist.  I’m really trying to tap into a greater understanding of the different results that come with forcing and allowing.  I’m seeing more and more that those around me who force and mold reality to their wants may indeed meet their physical objectives.  But the wake of suffering that trails behind them is devastating.  They don’t see that hammering that round peg into a square hole is a kludge solution to a spiritual problem.  Maybe material things are not finite at all.  Only the quality of basic building blocks is.  We can grab a prebuilt chunk of the universe in the form of money or a Big Mac, or we can intend for it to come into our path and allow the universe to manifest this desire in rhythm with natural forces and in concert with others. 

Yesterday I borrowed $10 from a friend to have lunch.  I promptly felt better, yet worse.  I grabbed a Monterey Chalupa Slider from Taco Bell and sat in my living room with an ear-to-ear grin reserved for the proverbial cat and his canary.  Spewing hot sauce about my Fiesta Fries, sucking back my oversized diet Pepsi, watching Fox news - I was in heaven.  Or, so I thought.  The expected payment I had leveraged this loan against never came.  I could have spent that money of a bag of rice, and perhaps some vegetables.  Instead I rushed in the closest fast-food chain I could find and fed my pithy ego. 

I’m nowhere further in this posting toward providing insight or answers.  I am, however, quite certain that I’m not even close to the level of humility, piety, or compassion that comes with calling oneself aligned with the Great Way.  I’ve got a long way to go.  Fortunately, the abundance and provisions I require literally grow on trees.

The power just came back on.  Back to reality, whatever that is.