More Is Being Asked of Us Now Than Possibly Ever Before in Our Lives: We Strive, Not Yet Knowing How, Not Yet Knowing If We’ll Succeed. All We Know is the Need to Act

How do we read the signs that the world and our own hearts and minds are giving us? The universe doesn’t just text us one, clearly typed message, explaining all we’re facing. Would we even welcome such a message? Maybe we do get such messages sometimes and aren’t sure if we’re hallucinating it?

 

I’ve been reading Being-Time: A Practitioner’s Guide to Dogen’s Shobogenzo Uji, by Shinshu Roberts, and just started to alternate it with Seaglass: A Jungian Analyst’s Exploration of Suffering and Individuation, by Gilda Frantz. Dogen is a 13th Century Zen teacher and founder of one of the main schools of Japanese Buddhism. I usually read only 2-4 pages at a time, because each paragraph is like a puzzle requiring considerable reflection. But the beauty that can be discovered in doing so is immense. Frantz’s book was recommended by 2 Facebook friends. It’s been a remarkable find, of essays, personal stories, and interviews about facing the difficult in life and revealing the myths and motivations that drive us.

 

And yesterday, after reading a little in both books, a deep realization, frightening in its scope, grabbed my mind and challenged my emotions. Both books synchronistically seemed to be sending one message, a message of something being asked, no, demanded of me. Something more than I’ve already given, to the world, to myself. It was less a regret for something left undone than a glimpse into an opportunity⎼ if I could take it. Frightening in the risks involved, both in the doing or undoing.

 

There’s a sense of inevitability posed by life in these times, hidden between news reports and the sounds of rain. Between bare tree branches, deep gray clouds, and the feel of tension in my hands and shoulders. Between the ordinary, the known, and the extraordinary and unknown. And a question⎼ We know we must act. But how?

 

More is being asked of all of us than probably ever before in our lives. No matter how much I might want this not to be so, that is the reality. We must let go of so much of what’s normal to our lives so we can do what the times require of us. What our inner selves demand of us.

 

How do  we change our lives internally so we can respond skillfully to the fear DT incites and manipulates in us? To the assault on our values and humanity? How do we respond to his blatant assaults on our security as a people and a nation? To our health care? To our incomes? To threats of deporting immigrants of color, from Latin America? Threats to LGBTQ+? To anyone who opposes him? To the rule of law? How do we respond to the expanding climate and ecological crises?

 

How do I feel less the me isolated from the rest of us, and more of the rest of us in me? Doing so might not only reveal how to help others, and maybe help others realize what they, too, can do, but inspire or expose unseen depths in myself. I want to meditate even more than I do. To learn more than I know. To do more.

 

To help me do this, I plan to read poets and writers from Ukraine, Gaza, Israel, and the US, about how to face the horrors caused by one group of humans against others. Or read writers from the distant past, in ancient China when the social order had collapsed, or even in Ukraine or Eastern Europe, in the villages where my own family might have once lived⎼ so we can feel any horrors of life can be faced, and the strength in ourselves to act can be found….

 

 

*To read the whole article, please click on this link to The Good Men Project.

Without Our Listening, Together, Who Will Hear the Rhythm of the Rain?- A Poetic Commiseration and Contemplation

It’s raining. Yet I feel good about it. There’s a restful quality to it, despite the wind and colder temperature. The snow is not yet with us. There’s a steady, moment by moment rhythm. Seemingly repetitive, yet always changing, unpredictable. The wind whips it up and the volume increases; then it slows and quiets so we can barely hear it.

 

Maybe I like it so much because there’s been so little of it lately. It threatened for a few days but hasn’t rained deeply for months. The earth is thirsty for it. People to the east of here, in New Jersey, have experienced its worst drought in 120 years, leading to extremely dangerous wild fires to an extent uncommon to the east coast.

 

Or maybe it’s the knowledge of the inconvenience of going outside, so I might as well stay where I am. Nowhere else I must go.

 

And it’s a gentle rain. But rain can also have the feel of a threat in it. It can mean floods. Loss of life. Water damage. And come with hurricane winds and destruction. It’s often used as a metaphor for feeling depressed, or for tears falling inside us. Or that something wants to be let out, or we want to let it out, or let something go.

 

Or it can be a relief, from drought, clearly. Or we can feel now I can stay home. Now I can give myself a break. Now I can cuddle up with a book or with my wife or friends. The sounds of rain can focus our attention right here, right now, making activities like meditation and contemplation easier. Right here I can find everything.

 

This calm reflective mood is exactly what I need to try to make sense of this frightening historical moment. After the election, I felt it was raining inside me, and the rain threatened to become an overwhelming storm. And now⎼ I want to sit comfortably and let my attention notice what is waiting inside. And if I can, to understand and feel this situation in a larger context.

 

This rain, this moment is the only time we have. It reveals the reality of one aspect of that larger context⎼ the earth around us. Aways here, present, to see, hear, feel. To love. We might want to hold onto the sight or sound of a raindrop or to this moment; or hold onto what we wished was here. But we never hear just one raindrop. It might stand out for a second. But it’s never still. One second, its right there; the next, it disappears into a whole universe of moving drops. When it dissolves, all that’s left is the echo of feeling, the echo of the whole world raining together. So, we let it go.

 

But at least we know ⎼THIS I CAN DO. I can take this breath, notice this thought, listen to the rain this moment. In this listening and feeling, so much more is included than I normally realize….

 

*To read the whole article, please go to The Good Men Project.

I’m Dumbfounded: Are We Too Afraid and Too Ready to Accept a Simple or Convenient Lie Instead of Searching for The More Complex Truth?

I’m dumbfounded. Perplexed. Confused. And frightened. Worried. I feel a hole in my stomach. My hands feel like they’re vibrating, but it’s on the inside only. My mouth, cheeks, and eyes feel heavy, like they’re filled with concrete.

 

Dumbfounded is a good word, because I feel dumb. Have I been so wrong about humanity? Are our fellow Americans just so misogynistic they couldn’t allow a woman to be president? Or too racist? But somewhere upwards of 40% of Latinos voted for DT and helped swing the election. I’m missing something here. Or are we too vengeful? Too afraid? Too ready to accept a simple or convenient lie instead of searching for the more complex or inconvenient truth? Are our memories so short we don’t remember the chaos, fear, and malignant incompetence of DT’s response to COVID? Or his assaults on healthcare? The favoritism shown the rich?

 

Or have too many of us been so consumed by fake news we can’t see what seems so obvious to many of us? Or so deluded by disinformation we’ve voted in the King of fake news? The wanna-be Dictator of lies, hate, and fear?

 

I’m so confused.

 

Or maybe the election results are off? Or just feel impossible? Certainly, if the results prove accurate, the polling was off.

 

I was recently at a large dinner party seated with two obviously intelligent women I didn’t know. They were talking about their distrust in government. Their level of distrust and bitter anger startled me. One, who was a Kamala Harris supporter, even said, “Do we really know if we should have fought in World War II? Did we defeat Fascism?” I jumped in with two not-very mindful feet and said, “Yes. We did. Remember six million Jews had been killed, exterminated.” We shut off the ovens. We released starving millions from concentration camps. She said she agreed with me. The other woman became silent. But what about the distrust? Was I witnessing the result of disinformation aimed at undermining our trust in democracy?

 

Maybe she had a point neither of us recognized right then. Maybe the fascism continued underground. Maybe we saw its ugly face last night?

 

I don’t know.

 

But maybe the not-knowing can be a good thing….

 

**To read the whole article, please go to The Good Men Project.

A Dream of a Mirror Bird: As I Looked at It, It Looked at Me

Last night, I had a dream that, afterwards, I realized very neatly mirrored events that had been dominating my life. It started with a bird. Maybe it was a robin, or a cat bird, as it had that classic robin-like bird shape. I could not see the red breast or any colors in the dream; the bird was larger and a bit thicker in the middle than most cat birds.

 

And it had such big eyes. The dream, as far as I remember it, started with the bird hanging out on a tree branch, looking at me, like it had selected me out of all humanity, and it wanted something from me.

 

I had written a blog recently about a stray cat who first visited us months ago. He was skinny and all beat up when we first saw him and would come to the door of our house crying for attention. But whenever we went to the door to talk with him, he would immediately run away. Disappear.

 

And my wife and I heard from 3 of our neighbors that he had done the same at their house. But finally, we left out food. And he came, slowly, over days and weeks, to eat it, and eventually to trust us. We then brought him to the ASPCA for neutering and then our vet for tests, shots, and treatment. His coat improved from the food and care.

 

And he dominated much of our attention, making our other two cats jealous. Tests showed he had feline AIDS, so we were fearful that if we of took him in, he’d infect the others. But the wonderful vets at Cornell Veterinary School and three adoption agencies reassured us. They said the disease is almost always spread from a deep bite. We didn’t know what to do. At first, we tried to find him a home where there were no other cats, but we were unsuccessful. And we couldn’t just kick him out. We had begun to love him.

 

So now he’s ours, or we’re his. Whenever he sees us, he rushes happily into one of our laps. We named him Mr. Night, as he seems to most need to be with us at night.

 

But the dream bird did not run away as the real cat originally did. After the dream-me saw it, or it saw into me, so many other people got involved, people I can’t now identify. Somehow, the bird got adopted, sort of, by this group. It became the center of events, like what happened with the stray cat that had adopted us. But unfortunately, so much of the memory of the bird disappeared as soon as I woke up. As soon as my waking consciousness took hold, the bird consciousness was gone, leaving only its tracks in my mind.

 

I know many things happened….

 

 

*To read the whole article, please go to The Good Men Project.

Once We Break the Bonds Committing Us to Truth, All the Beasts of the Human Mind Can Be Released: The Shot that Rang Out from the Golf Course

I was unnerved, so very disturbed by the shot that rang out yesterday (9/15) from a Florida golf course.

 

And it wasn’t only because the shooter seems to have intended to aim at, and kill a fellow human being, and a presidential candidate, but was thankfully thwarted by a Secret Service agent. That intention is despicable enough. But the whole context was shocking, the timing, the election. Just when a shift in people’s perception of DT was being reported, from the polls, and the debate⎼ just when so many more people had been coming to recognize the craziness he spreads to all of us, the threat, and then this happened.

 

And now, this newest example of intended gun violence is sharing the media news cycle with how DT would lie, say or do almost anything to get his way, no matter who he might hurt. How he used racist lies about Haitian immigrants to rile up his base, to shock and destabilize our nation and spread anger, hate, and the sense of continuous threat. And the result of his comments? Bomb threats and other violence are being aimed at those he maligned and hurt, and the city they live in. He and his VP were just beginning to be held accountable in many media sources when the Secret Service agent’s shot rang out.

 

But the mere attempt to kill a political leader in this country is shocking.

 

DT has continuously, from 2016 to today, viewed our nation through a dark lens, describing us as a crime-ridden, failed, “third world” country. He talks about not being able to go out for a loaf of bread without being raped, mugged, or shot at. Most of us go out every week without getting mugged or raped or shot at. Despite FBI statistics showing a historic 26.4 reduction in murders and similar reductions in rape, robberies, and crime overall in 2024, we might still fear violence due to the anger, hate, and sense of grievance DT stirs up. He helps create the division and violence he describes and attributes to others.

 

For example, his violent rhetoric has helped turn compromise into a dirty word, helped  turn people who have different viewpoints into enemies. He undermines political cooperation by turning discussion from a way to share viewpoints and create a greater understanding, to a way to destroy opposition. He thus undermines democracy itself.

 

In a specious manner, he makes claims that the violence he incited was caused by those who have revealed his role in said violence. For example, he said President Biden was trying to overthrow the United States by saying DT was a threat to democracy. Meanwhile, on Jan. 6 it was DT who actually tried to overthrow the constitution and the will of the American people (and then continued to lie about it ever since). His statements misrepresent the facts and the blame is his own.

 

His constant lying undermines not only the specific facts he distorts, but a general sense of truth, or reality. Once we break any commitment to truth, all the dark, imagined, feared beasts lying dormant in our minds can be released….

 

*To read the whole article, please click on this link to The Good Men Project.

How I Relate to Another Being is How I’m Living Life Now: The House of My Hearing Has Many Doors

Relationships are, clearly, at the heart of our lives; or maybe I should say that for most of us, they are our heart. Especially a marriage and those longstanding partnerships. They can be so miraculous, exciting, engaging, frightening, painful, and confounding that we lose perspective on the central role they play in our lives. Something comes up, a disagreement or hurt, and we focus exclusively on that. To the degree we feel engaged, we want to disengage. We can lose sight of how the relationship influences not only how we think of ourselves but all other relationships.

 

Despite the many relationships we have, we often think of ourselves as me-alone. Me separate from others, separate even from our world. But we’re never as fully separate as we might imagine. And core relationships have enormous power to reveal that. By recognizing this as a possibility, the relationship itself comes alive. The character of our lives improves.

 

Recently, I noticed that any marriage, or any core relationship, models for us what relationship itself means. It can become a school for learning how to deepen other, important emotional connections. For example, each friendship, in its own, unique way contains the possibility of developing a degree of the openness and emotional intimacy that a core relationship might develop⎼ a similar caring and being cared for, mutual discovery, trust, and exploration. Or if the core is dominated by resistance, pain, dishonesty, and projections, so might other relationships.

 

Such discovery and caring makes us vulnerable. When we’re open, loving, we’re vulnerable. That’s just what caring means. When we care we don’t wear bulletproof vests or build concrete walls around us. When we’re “open” our senses and feelings reach out. When we reach out, others can reach in. And this dynamic helps us grow in character.

 

This, of course, can also be frightening. It can scare us into shutting down. But being frightened can itself be a sign that something we’re feeling is meaningful and worthwhile. That we’re in a state where what we don’t know about the future of the relationship, or anything, might exceed what we do know. And we’re willing to risk that.

 

And this not-knowing is always with us. We might assume that when we’re open or vulnerable we’re less safe. But maybe we’re safer. If we’re more able to perceive what’s there, what’s real⎼ if we’re more cognizant of just how much of the future we don’t know, and more aware of what we’re doing and saying, then we can make better decisions. A relationship can help us recognize what’s real.

 

We can better recognize that right here, in this moment, this person⎼ is my life. I breathe; they breathe. I feel; they feel. Zen teacher and author Thich Nhat Hanh called this inter-being⎼ we inter-are with others. Likewise, Australian Zen teacher Susan Murphy borrows an Aboriginal term, us-two, to describe relationships. Our relationship with another person, being, or place is not between separate, disconnected things. Instead, me-and-you and everything are dynamically creating this moment together.

 

As I sit with them, whoever they are, I sit with myself….

 

*To read the whole article, please go to The Good Men Project.

If 6th Graders Can Learn to Do This, Why Not the Rest of Us, and Society?

There are moments in life when we’re given an opportunity to participate in something special, a once in a lifetime moment.  Or maybe, it’s an opportunity to realize that every moment can be a unique, once-in-a-life moment.

 

This past weekend was the 50th Anniversary Reunion of the Lehman Alternative Community School {LACS] where I taught for 27 years. It’s a school that gives students, and it gave me, the opportunity to figure out who we were. For me, it was where I spent many of the best years of my professional life. It provided the chance to learn how all the disparate aspects of my life made sense and showed me how to pull all those aspects together. Just when I needed it most, and maybe when the school most needed me, we found each other.

 

The event began Friday night with a meet and greet dinner. Saturday, we gathered in the gym for welcome activities, photos, a talk from all 4 principals of the school⎼ the one who founded the school and led it for 30 years, and then the 3 principals who followed him.

 

Then there were school tours, art shows, and workshops; examples included The Seeds of Pedagogy, Climate Activism, Work in the Garden, etc. And the one I helped plan, on how our experiences in theatre classes and productions at the school and elsewhere empowered our lives.

 

On Saturday afternoon, a movie on the school was shown; there were meet ups for different groups, and an All-School Meeting was held. At night, a talent show hosted by graduates. And on Sunday, a lunch together at a park⎼ that nobody wanted to end until we were all exhausted.

 

The theatre workshop was a panel of graduates discussing two questions:

How has theatre helped you in your life?

What has been your experience pursuing your passions and exploring your career since leaving the school?

The panelists covered almost 45 years of our history. The moderator was a contemporary senior. 4 of the panelists were theatre professionals or studying in college to be one. The 5th used their theatre experience in their corporate career.

 

I had few coherent images of how the panel might turn out, just dreams and wishes. But the reality exceeded the dreams. The event was a testament to the profound possibilities that can occur when any group, certainly any group of young people, are trusted and given the opportunity, guidance, and support to openly be themselves⎼ and are encouraged to think deeply about the real issues of their lives and the world.

 

I was totally engaged with stories by graduates about how theatre, and the school in general, shaped and benefitted them, including how to face adversity and pain. There were stories about how theatre prepared one panelist to testify to congress and directly face all the giant cameras focused on them. Another panelist discussed how their experiences at the school showed them how to love auditions and be successful in movies and tv. Another talked about how it prepared them not only to direct theatre productions in Manhattan, but also to teach acting to college students. Or to follow their hearts and act to benefit others and society in general. An audience member, who is a medical examiner in New York City, shared how theatre prepared them to testify in trials.

 

Democratic decision-making is at the heart of the school….

 

*To read the whole article, please go to The Good Men Project.

Aging Isn’t an Illness to Recover From: Lowering Our Resistance to Living with Kindness

As I get older, I realize the images and expectations I once held of “old” people were distorted. We are not those images. I can do so much more now at 65, 75 and older than I once expected I could do. And I sort of laugh gleefully. Aging is a more complex, engaging experience than I ever realized before.

 

The same applies to facing death. Our culture has a prohibition against speaking openly about the subject, which can be so damaging and isolating to us all.

 

I once imagined being older was a time of increasing feebleness or diminished capacities. That people spent more time looking backwards than forwards. And that except for maybe having more “free time,” there was nothing positive about it. A popular meme was “don’t trust anyone over thirty” ⎼ until my whole generation was way over thirty. I’ve found there’s plenty of looking back, but there’s even more of an appreciation of each moment now.

 

It’s true, however, that when I was younger, I might see a doctor once a year, at most. Lately, it’s almost every week. A frequent question that arises when I feel pain or physically “off” in some way, is whether the symptom is due to “normal aging,” or something else. In the past, when I was injured or developed some medical condition, I approached it as a problem to solve. Bodies could usually recover, injuries usually heal. But now, ankle or hand pain, for example, doesn’t heal as quickly as it once did, or at all.

 

Aging isn’t an illness to recover from. But our attitude or understanding of it is another story. We hopefully re-learn daily who we are. We re-learn what change means, what living means, that living is change. To even breathe we change, every second, taking in, letting go.

 

And as we get older, so many of those we know leave the world before us. I remember my father, who lived to be exactly 96.5, saying, “I’m the last of my friends, and the last of my relatives from my generation.” There’s an awful pain and loneliness in this. In each friend or loved one’s death we can feel friendship dying in us. We can feel loving is dying; loving is being vulnerable. To love is to make ourselves vulnerable to loss, yet we do it anyway. Dying is there in the loving itself; the two are almost indistinguishable.

 

So, every once and awhile now, I look up and see the reality of death getting closer. I can’t claim I’ve accepted it. Surprisingly, it doesn’t depress me, despite the moments when I experience intense fear. Or when I realize everything beyond what I can see in front of me right now, beyond what anyone can see, is an unknown we haven’t yet learned how to embrace or face. Maybe death is there as a sign, or a reminder, a message from reality.

 

And this reality touches and hopefully improves my relationship with everyone, with good friends and relatives, and especially my wife. My wife and I have been together for so many years, and the commitment to each other is as real, as clear as anything could be. As wonderful. As present. There is less judgment. Less impulse to distance. Just feeling.

 

Yet, different ways to trick myself into ignoring the reality of death still occasionally leap into mind….

 

 

*To read the whole article, please go to The Good Men Project.

Healing Divisions, Both in Ourselves and With Others: The Brittle Weakness Exposed by Not Compromising

There’s the old, oft-repeated story, that if frogs are placed in a pot of water that is gradually heated, they will not realize the danger of eventually being boiled alive until it’s too late. However, says psychologist and science journalist Adam Grant, frogs will leap out as soon as they sense the heat. But we human beings are feeling the increasingly hotter world temperatures caused by climate change but are not leaping out and are not doing all we can to turn the heat off.

 

Maybe frogs are more intelligent than humans. Or maybe we are just too good at imagining reality as being other than it is?  At creating “alternate facts” and diversions? Or are too many of us just afraid of change? Or too traumatized?

 

How do we loosen the boundaries in ourselves? How do we let go of rigid ideas of who we are or must be or of what is real? And how do we help others do the same?

 

One of the biggest obstacles to changing anyone else’s mind, or our own, is realizing not only it can be done but it’s happening all the time. For example, before 2012, the country was opposed to gay marriage. In 2013, the majority supported it. In 2015, the Supreme Court struck down all state bans on same sex marriage.

 

Another science journalist, David McRaney, in his book How Minds Change: The Surprising Science of Belief, Opinion, and Persuasion, argues we evolved to work to consensus, to helpful adaptation. But it can happen in punctuated spurts, times of great argument and division and no clear change, then a sudden burst of change. Hopefully, we’re near such an evolutionary adaptation now.

 

And lately, I’ve found in myself this same resistance to facing people with rigidly held opposing ideas. It seems impossible to reach or even talk with those who disagree with me about climate change, or the “Big Lie,” for example. With the global earth and ocean temperatures rapidly reaching such high levels, the increasing number of dangerous weather events, wildfires, droughts, and floods all make climate change seem so obvious. And I saw the 1/6 attempted coup and the big lie enacted live on national tv. It just feels like what seems so clear to me should not be so hard for others to see.

 

But part of that difficulty comes from the fact that for all of us, our beliefs and even rationally constructed understandings of the world are the ground our lives stand on⎼ or appear to stand on. To question those views can feel like we’re washing away the ground under our feet; it can feel like abandoning our sense of ourselves.

 

In Think Again: The Power of Knowing What You Don’t Know,  Grant points out we often prefer the “comfort of conviction over the discomfort of doubt.” We resist rethinking, or talking with those with different views, not only because of the time and energy required, but because it would mean questioning ourselves. Such questioning might add more unpredictability to an already unpredictable, often threatening world. We need to recognize that what we believe is not who we are. We’re a universe infinitely larger than our worst opinions. It takes courage, not only to face those with diametrically opposing beliefs, but to unlearn what we believe, or think is true.

 

Especially now, it’s become difficult to change our minds. It can even be dangerous. Politically, acts mislabeled as flip-flopping are considered by many cowardice, or a sin….

 

*To read the whole article, please go to The Good Men Project.

The Silence that Speaks the Eloquence of the World: Two Liberating Questions

In every breath we can experience the whole of life, and death. We breathe out, and reach a point where there’s no breath left, almost no oxygen. We must let go, shift focus, and breathe in so we can live. And when inhaling, we reach a point where we’re too full. We must stop and let go. Life depends on these two ways of letting go⎼ to let us open more to life, or to stop what causes hurt and delusion. A sort of yes, no. Living and dying together.

 

When we inhale, there’s a pause, or can be⎼ if we put our attention on it⎼ when everything naturally gets quiet. We might hold our breath to hold the silence, the peacefulness. When we exhale, there’s also a point where we easily pause. We can become very awake and focused on everything that’s right there with us. We breathe ourselves awake.

 

Zen teacher and author Susan Murphy talks about the deeply mortal fear sitting at the back of every breath, unless we take time to notice and examine it. The fear of death, of breathing out for the last time, or feeling we lack something we need or want. It sits there, unseen, in the breath, waiting⎼ a fear that we can’t face life moving on, that nothing is forever⎼ that we can’t face reality and must separate ourselves emotionally from “it.” Or we cling to the delusion that we will always be here, that we can step out of time.

 

But there are several practices that help me feel the strength to examine and even transform that fear. Here are five: creation, exertion, being in nature, compassion, and love.

 

It’s not just any sort of creative act that does this, but one we do with total honesty. When we get very quiet inside, and nothing is in mind but the moment of noticing, then insights emerge seemingly on their own. They speak, not me. Even a brief visit beforehand to this silence, to take a breath with full attention, to meditate opens a natural door to creating.

 

Walking in nature can do something similar. I’m walking in a forest, next to a stream; or I’m on the rural road near my home and hear water running. And I want to get lost in the beauty of the sound. I look at the gulley beside the road, to see where the sound originates, or to better hold onto it, but can’t. It disappears on me when I try to grasp it. Maybe trying to grasp or cling to anything does this. We can grasp a hammer, a shirt, maybe even a Presidency, for a while. But a musical note, a moment, love, peace, even life⎼ no.

 

We spend so much of our time now enraptured or entrapped by the ways corporate and social media distract and manipulate our attention, and break everything into tiny bits of information or enticements. We focus so much on not missing out, on doing more and more, and the internal pace of our lives speeds up. We can habitually feel we’re falling behind. We feel what philosopher and Zen teacher David Loy calls a sense of lack, of inadequacy, in ourselves, in our lives. That if we don’t own the latest I-phone, hear the latest record, believe the latest theory, join a certain group there’s something wrong with us.

 

All this fragments our attention and speeds us to the edge of feeling threatened and anxious. But it might also open us to what was the central question in the life of Buddha, to maybe a central question of modern psychology and human society: what is, what causes, what ends what Buddha labeled Dukkha, or unsatisfactoriness, suffering⎼ or mislocating the sense of lack, suffering as being out there, separate from us, so we never get free of it….

 

*To read the whole article, please click on this link to The Good Men Project.