bill 96.

'whenever you find yourself on the side of the majority, it is time to pause and reflect." mark twain. 

having intended to write a word or three about the results of the quebec election for a while, they only began to take shape in my mind while having a camera painfully inserted into a part of me that i'm pretty sure was not meant to receive it. and the irony of that fact was not lost on me. 

many people live in their heads. many others, of course, live in their hearts. i, however, tend to live a little lower down my anatomy, a fact that occurred to me as i waited for that highly anticipated prostate examination at the gatineau hospital. my bad days and good days are largely influenced by that general vicinity. my world view may even be coloured by how i'm doing down there. and whether i believe in a god or not i realized might have much to do with the outcome of that procedure.

i was concerned at the hospital, as i always am, that my french is very poor. in fact, my french is virtually non-existent. when i try, it comes out as a confusing cacophony of french, hindi and spanglish. my buddy john told me not to worry: "asshole's the same in french and english." strangely, i found that important bit of knowledge reassuring as i was hoisted unceremoniously up onto the gynecological-style chair with the help of a lovely young quebecois nurse.

trying hillariously to converse with the congenial girl, i apologized. and an older nurse from across the room remarked: "we're still living in a free country." and that just about summed it all up for me. in my twenty-two years living, loving, working, owning a business, travelling and teaching in quebec, i've rarely if ever had a problem. as far as i've ever been able to tell, the vast majority of the people don't care if you speak swahili. they don't care if you wanna wear a turban, hijab or diapers, which i may need to consider soon enough.

it has been my personal experience that, when someone does not want your company or no longer wants to be your friend, they let you know one way or another. bill 21 and bill 96: these are pretty direct and obvious hints as to who is and who is not welcome in quebec, according to the current government. well, i'm not going anywhere. this is my home. i have my ideas why the caq government was so handily re-elected, but this is still an incredible land filled with loving, caring people. all i know for sure is that i'm fortunate to only have one asshole to deal with. the quebec government is riddled with a bunch of them. by the way, there may be a god. 

  

meditation, updated.

 Meditation, Updated.

This article is written for those special people who've become interested in or perhaps even fascinated by the idea of meditation. If you’re searching for instructions into Reiki, Tarot cards, healing with crystals or how to contact your dead grandmother, this will not work for you. As wonderful as all those things may be, that's not what i'm into. This article is exclusively concerned with explaining the pure, ancient and respected science of meditation, how and why to include it in your life. There will be no certification at the end of studying and practicing. There will be, however, tremendous relaxation, a profound sense of well-being and a greater understanding of something I call self-knowledge.

At the start of one of my sessions, a serious-looking lady asked what my qualifications were for teaching. What I said, what I always say, is that I honestly have no certificate or accreditation from any institute. I invited her to feel free to read the back of any one of my books to learn a bit of my personal history, specifically as it pertains to the study, experience and teaching of meditation. But most importantly, I added, one has to rely on one’s own intellect and power of discrimination in order to choose who is worth listening to on any subject, especially this one. Moreover, ultimately, one has to take what is useful from any teacher or technique that guarantees results. Even the Buddha allegedly said that any technique worth employing must help a person in his or her life, here and now, right away.

One of the two main teachers in my life, Swami Shyamji, once gave me a piece of advice that I continue to keep close to my heart. As I was leaving his Himalayan hermitage to join a six-month, silent Vipassana Buddhist meditation retreat with U.N. Goenka in Maharashtra, I asked if he had any last minute words of advice. “Yes, I do,” he said smiling impishly. “My advice is: don’t be a Buddhist, be the Buddha.” And with those words ringing in my ears I slithered away. I’ve never forgotten that advice. I’ve often repeated it to my so-called students and even expanded upon it. Don’t be a Buddhist, be the Buddha. Don’t be a Christian, be the Christ. Don’t be a Hindu, be Krishna. Don’t be a Sikh, be Guru Nanak. Don’t be a Jew, be Moses.

It’s interesting that all truly enlightened people have said that we are one life, one energy, one love, irrespective of caste, race, creed, colour or any other apparent difference. Why does that essential and original message from the enlightened beings through the ages become so perverted as to cause duality, discrimination and even wars? Don’t be a Buddhist, be the Buddha.

So, no matter who we choose to listen to, sit with or learn from, it’s up to each of us to dig our own freedom, to find our own way, to become enlightened even without a certificate to show for our trouble. Just freedom. Just a heightened sense of oneness, wellness. It is in the light of this realization that I humbly offer these suggestions. In reality, I am not a traditional teacher and you're not a traditional student. If what I write is true and if it strikes a responsive chord within you, then we are united in that understanding. We're united, not as teacher and student, but as Truth itself.

Having said all that, I should add something about why it may be helpful to seek some form of guidance or a ‘teacher’ when beginning to examine the practice of meditation. One needn’t stay for long. One needn’t cook or clean for him or her, certainly not get into his or her bed or hand over one’s money. What one must do is take advantage of the experience of a fellow traveler who has gone before, who has been up that path and who just might know the tricky twists and turns to watch out for along the way. 

If one wanted to learn to play the piano, it probably wouldn’t be of any use to sit in front of a photo of a great pianist placed on the music-stand above the keys. Why would meditation be any different? I'm not saying one cannot be self-taught. Ultimately, we are on our own. We find our own way. I'm merely saying that if one wants to learn the piano it may be helpful to at least hear some advice from someone who already knows how to play. 

And there’s one more reason to sit with someone whose meditation practice has matured. The rare people who have dedicated themselves to the practice over many years actually emanate a spiritual essence, a vibration, so to speak, that is transmitted to those around them. That may sound terribly mystical, but it’s a fact and a quality not to be underestimated.

Goenkaji used to say that the same mind that got us into trouble can get us out of it. Like most folks, I had looked for solutions externally: money, relationships etc. However, somehow I understood that meditation might be a powerful tool. I eventually realized that the mind, re-trained, could be used against those obstacles to true happiness, a myriad of physical ailments, complexes, even the innate fear of death.

One of the most prevalent misconceptions about meditation is that you have to stop your thoughts. That's a prevalent and rather unfortunate misconception. To allow a wild horse to settle down, it probably wouldn't be a great idea to put it inside a very small corral, a completely unnatural place for such a creature. It’d be far more reasonable to give it a large, wide-open field to roam around in. Then it'd eventually settle down on its own. In much the same way, it’s far better to let the thoughts come and go freely. Merely sitting or lying down for some time each day and applying the technique, which i'll soon explain, assures one of a positive result. Only your misconceptions can get in the way. The very act of stopping for a while would have a positive influence on your day, your life. That’s because, actually, you do not meditate. You just need to get out of the way for meditation to happen naturally.

Dhyaan, meditation, actually means ‘attention’ or ‘contemplation.’ Whether a mantra (usually a Sanskrit phrase) or the breath becomes your chosen technique or point of attention, the results, as I’ve said, are assured. Done with the right understanding, your mind will settle down, you will enjoy a heightened sense of well-being. I can assure you that, done with continuity, a little each day, you will be successful.

There are three states of consciousness that everyone is familiar with: the waking state, the dream state and the deep sleep state. From the moment of conception, the ancient sages have said, a person begins to forget that he or she has an underlying state, which is called Turiya in Sanskrit, that permeates all the states of consciousness. And the very act of stopping all your activities and tuning in to that essence of your existence, Turiya, which is what you’re effectively doing in meditation, will take care of a lot. There are many benefits, even though it may seem counter-intuitive at first to stop trying to produce, excell or achieve great success even for a few minutes. But, one does not need to give up anything. That's another misconception. One simply needs to add one thing more to ones life: a few minutes of meditation daily.

In eastern philosophies and scriptures, you’ll often read that whatever is transitory cannot be said to be real. You’ll read that whatever is permanent is real. So this body, mind, ego mechanism is in that case philosophically not real or even existing. The ancient sages theorized that there is, in fact, no death because there was no actual birth. The space, place or essential ocean of life from whence we come, to where we go: that's considered real or more real. One must continue to wonder where that comes from. The technique helps bring one’s attention back to one’s own self, to the reality of the essential life animating ones body and mind. The practice helps one stop. As well, the technique trains the mind to focus, which has far-reaching effects on ones day, life and, ultimately, ones self-knowledge.

The Vedantic scriptures liken the mind to a monkey flitting from branch to branch, tree to tree. Our mind flits from object to object and from thought to thought. We become so extraverted over the years, or even as each day progresses, that it behooves us to find a way to regroup, so to speak. So, when we’ve decided to let the thoughts come and go freely while we sit and just watch, we merely add one new thought, to repeat, a pleasant thought. The phrase, or mantra, becomes a very significant and enjoyable thought as time marches on. All true mantras mean virtually the same thing: ‘I am the pure life, energy, animating all the forms.’ There is a popular Buddhist mantra that goes ‘Om mani padme hum’: ‘Behold the jewel within the lotus flower.’ There is a popular Hindu mantra that goes ‘Amaram Hum Madhuram Hum’: ‘I am immortal, I am blissful and indivisible.’ All real mantras basically refer to the one life, the one light at the center of all beings, the energy that animates all these forms.

It is often noted that Sanskrit is used for mantras because the vibration of the phrases resonate within the human mind to open certain spiritual channels. I’ve always used the Sanskrit word, Shyam, as my mantra. It’s the name of my teacher and of the power that sustains life. It really doesn’t matter what mantra you choose. However, choosing a mantra and sticking to it is important. Meditation is a practice for becoming less scattered, more one-pointed, after all. Chogyam Trungpa once wrote that western people tend to try many different techniques, which is like a thirsty person digging many shallow wells but never hitting water. He wrote that we should dig one well deep enough to achieve the desired result. Having chosen a mantra, or having had one suggested by a spiritual guide, master or guru, you’re ready to begin. 

It's necessary to mention here two more misconceptions: that you need perfect silence and you must sit up straight with legs crossed. My teacher used to say that you should be able to meditate anywhere unless somebody is physically shaking you. I once climbed all the way down to the bottom of a dormant volcano in Hawaii, called Haliakalu, in a quest to find the perfect spot for meditation. A hut had been constructed there for trekkers or foolish folks looking for a perfect spot to meditate. I felt so sure I’d finally found my place. Unfortunately, since there were no panes of glass nor screens in the windows, a couple of flies flew fairly frequently in there making a racket like they were at the El Macombo on a Saturday night. I left in a huff the next morning. 

Later, on my way to India for the first time, I was compelled to sleep on the rooftop of a hotel in Peshawar after a long and tiring day of travel. The noise level from the crowds up there and the hollering, smoke and smells from the streets below were off the charts. I was convinced meditation would be a wasted endeavor in such a place. But, I had little choice. It was my rule to sit every evening one hour. And after an hour, in spite of my misgivings, I felt rejuvenated, refreshed. Now I prefer peaceful places to meditate, to live. But that peaceful place can be found wherever you are.

Next, it’s not necessary to sit ramrod straight with legs crossed. That can even be counter-productive. It’s not even necessary to sit at all. You can lie down, settle into a comfortable chair or sit on a cushion with legs out or crossed. Since meditation is first and foremost a process of relaxation, let the sense of ease be your guide. You should feel relaxed and comfortable. Sometimes it's perfect to sit up straight. Other times it's best to lean back against some pillows.

Now, it’s easy to find a spot where there's very little noise. It’s easy to find a spot where there are virtually no pungent odors, unless you haven't bathed. It’s easy to find a spot where you’re not touching anything other than those pillows. But how does one get away from one’s own mental projections, thoughts? As I’ve said before, the first thing to not do is try to stop your thoughts. Don’t mind your mind. Remember, the same mind that got us into trouble can get us out. The monkey mind will first distract you from your mantra and then make you feel bad for being distracted. Allow your thoughts to come and go freely. Decide beforehand that you won’t feel bad about that. Because I promise that you will be distracted again and again. So each time you realize you’ve been thinking or listening to a noise or feeling pain, pleasure or a strong emotion of some sort, just go back to your mantra without any sense of self-recrimination. You can even get right into thinking, about your day, your life. You can get into thinking about life itself, pure, free and forever. Just keep returning to your mantra, again and again.

It is important to understand that whatever one perceives and experiences in meditation, just as in ones day-to-day life, is transitory and changing. Whatever one thinks, hears, whatever pain, pleasure or strong emotion one experiences will have a beginning and an end. So, when you meditate it is useful to just watch it all. Don't try to get away from anything you don't like or hang onto anything you like. Just practice being the watcher of it all. That is the practice of equanimity. The same uninvolved observer who was watching as a young boy or girl is the same one who is watching now. As your body has grown and as you’ve gained more and more skills, qualifications and life experiences, that watcher has never changed. That uninvolved observer has always and will always be fine throughout the life and maybe even after. Think about that.

In spite of what I wrote earlier, I am going to suggest two more techniques. Because I feel sure that the people reading this dissertation, like people I keep meeting in my sessions, and especially now with the right understanding, are brilliant enough to decide which is best suited to them and how to use the information offered here. 

The first of these two techniques is called Anapana, with a soft ‘a.’ It is a technique of concentrating on the breath. Anapana is referred to as the maha mantra, the ultimate mantra. The reason is that it’s the least tangible, the subtlest point one can attend. There’s virtually no form to watch, no form to hold on to with your mind. However, the ancient sages have said that it’s a bridge between the part of us that’s transitory and the part that’s eternal, the life source of our energy. I have often suggested it can also be combined with mantra.

The million-dollar question is this: Can you allow the inhalation and exhalation to happen on its own without asserting yourself? Can you stop doing anything and just observe your own breath? While sitting, slouching or lying down, or while waiting to be wheeled in for your medical procedure, put your attention on the nose-nostrils-upper-lip area and simply watch the breath. Don’t follow your breath in or out. This is not a breathing exercise. Watch the inhalation, the exhalation and the spaces between. And, again, as often as your attention is deflected into your thoughts, the noises around you or some pain, that many times you have to go back to your chosen point of attention. And don’t bother being bothered by being bothered by being distracted. In fact, watch what has distracted you and practice equanimity. Be the uninvolved observer.

You may not think you’re having a very peaceful meditation. As I’ve already pointed out, you may think you’re wasting your time. Just keep in mind that rooftop in Peshawar and give peace a chance. There is no such thing as a bad meditation. You may doubt that you can do it. You may doubt that you should do it. I suggest that you be patient and give yourself time. 

Following one sitting, a lovely lady remarked that she really didn’t understand what she was doing. That was a valid point. It was a valid point because she was not doing anything. We’re not used to that, stopping. We’re not used to letting go. It’s much simpler to run around the block for a half hour than to stop all our activities for the same time period. It’s the most worthy and yet the most difficult of all endeavours. It's difficult and it's easy. In fact, it’s too easy, too simple for our busy minds. Don’t get stuck on the technique either. You can just watch the space, so to speak, practice being that uninvolved watcher. You can decide. You're the teacher.

Which brings me to my third suggestion, my last technique. This simple technique is close to my heart. In fact, it's close to everyones' heart. Here's how this one goes: 

Just think about a person you have loved with all your heart. Dwell upon that person, or even that pet, you have been most enamored of, most attached to, the being whose presence you have most treasured. Even if he, she or it is physically no longer in your life, even if the memory causes you pain, don't turn your thoughts away. The pain is because there was that much love, that much oneness. And the pain and pleasure may in fact come from the same place or heart-space. 

After a few moments, let go of that person or being and put your attention on the feelings, dwell upon those feelings rather than the object. Follow those feelings to their source deep within you. Because those feelings existed long before the object of your love came in front of your eyes and other senses. Those feelings and that heart-space have always been there. Eventually, imagine a pond that, when a pebble is tossed into it, causes ripples to spread out. Let those waves, the vibrations, ripple throughout your body and flood your system with all that goodness. Envision that life-sustaining healing power of love spreading throughout your body and even beyond. But, mostly, dwell on that place, space, center, that force, the source of your love. 

With meditation practice, one of the first things you’re likely to notice is that the quality of your thoughts will change. You probably won’t feel like hollering at your wife or husband so much anymore or back-ending the car that just cut you off. You may even feel uncharacteristically charitable. 

When one is sitting, continuously placing ones attention on or identifying with the watcher, one is essentially developing equanimity. Each time one says ‘pain’ rather than ‘my pain,’ or ‘pleasure’ instead of ‘my pleasure,’ one is essentially stepping back from the ever-changing phenomenon just a tiny bit. In that way a person will observe again and again how all of ones sensory perceptions, whether pleasant or unpleasant, change. But a person will also observe again and again how the observer, the watcher, remains ever the same. In that way, one is travelling in the right direction and eventually, aside from any deeper effect, an ability to pause before reacting to whatever is going on around you is necessarily developed. And that ability to take a moment, even a split moment, to act creatively rather than react blindly, is incredibly valuable.

When a person throws an insult in your direction, for example, and you catch it as though it’s a bouquet of roses, the insult loses all its power. It would be tempting to underestimate the practice. But, consider the many thousands of people around the world who have dedicated their lives to doing nothing else. Of course, then you’ll have to figure out if they’re all misguided idiots or folks who have actually discovered a pathway to profound fulfillment. While everyone is striving for name, fame and fabulous wealth during this lifetime, people tend to lose sight of one very important fact. In a hundred years or so, nobody you know now will be alive. And nobody who is alive will really care who you were.

Ok, there are certain things that don’t go well with meditation. Smoking cigarettes, smoking lots of dope and drinking copious amounts of alcohol tend to be counterproductive. Heroin, crack and meth are not recommended. It’s a matter of going from the gross to the more subtle. And in that regard I would also take the chance to suggest eating less meat, especially red meat, and consuming more fruits and vegetables. People who are completely into eating meat on a regular basis might not appreciate my writing that. But, I think it’s really very important that I do. I've already said that nobody need necessarily cut out any pleasures whatsoever. Just add one more thing to your life. Meditation will help everyone. And, while I may be offending peoples' sensibilities, I may as well mention my belief in the importance of sexual continence. Here i’m only lightly, carefully suggesting one consider conserving ones energy. Anyway, I've written all about that candidly in my book, ‘Unprotected Sects. The Secret Life of a Celibate Monk.’

Many years ago Alan Abel, who was with the Globe and Mail in Toronto at the time, came to visit the hermitage in Kullu, India, where I lived for twenty-five years. During his interview with my teacher, Abel asked if Swamiji had any extra-normal powers. “Yes, I do,” Swamiji responded. “I have the power to love everyone unconditionally.” I’m quite convinced that greatest of all powers can be attained by the direct experience of oneness, the life itself permeating all forms, pure, free and forever.

There’s nothing to compel one to meditate or even make enquiries about it. However, if you’ve gotten this far you may as well read the rest of what I want to say. When one looks up at the night sky and sees all those stars, one has to wonder where it all ends. And, for that matter, one has to wonder where it all began. Intelligent people through the ages have continuously wondered where they came from and where they end up after the body is discarded like an old worn-out coat. 

I haven’t any definitive answer to those existential questions, not from firsthand experience or knowledge. But, I do know that asking oneself those questions is the beginning of a fascinating journey. And my direct personal experience has left me quite convinced that there is more to life than what meets the eyes, that there’s more to me than this body and mind. This is a sense that I do have through personal, direct experience. And it certainly has become obvious to me that, in spite of our many differences, our hearts all pulsate with love, we all desire freedom and we're all essentially one life. 

Best wishes.

the family secret.

 

my family gatherings, since returning to canada, have always felt a bit like a bad netflix movie: 'detective nathan returns to his home-town to solve the cold-case but uncovers long-hidden family secrets in the process.' only at least one of those long-hidden family secrets appears to have been me.

you'd think that in the last fifty or more years one or another of the family elders would've mentioned my existence, never mind my endeavours, to their various off-springs. obviously that's a ridiculous notion. at any family gathering i simply feel vaguely like everyones' wondering who i am and why i'm there. i simply feel vaguely like my existence in the family has been a well-guarded secret: a strange kid who ran away to india, spent a few decades in monasteries and ashrams, doesn't eat any meat, doesn't smoke anything, doesn't drink alcohol, doesn't even want a wife and we don't mention him. in truth, that would be giving myself way too much credit or importance. they're not thinking anything at all, not at all, truth be told. so i make myself comfortable, mingle a while, and eventually i simply slither stealth-fully away. 

i recently drove to sudbury for just such a family affair, stopped first in pembroke to visit a child-hood friend. she's olde, old enough for me to add an e, but seriously lovely: a seriously lovely, dear olde lady. her old cat hid for most of my visit, showing himself only after a while. even then he kept looking at me sideways, like a cousin, unsure, sizing me up. i didn't mind, didn't let that deter me from enjoying time together with my olde friend after so long.

mattawa is kinda nice, kinda not so nice. it's probably a rough place to live in some ways, rough around the edges. the park beside the river's charming, but i've seen so many parks beside so many rivers. i guess i'm jaded, or old. in fact i'm jaded and i'm olde. it just occurred to me, while sitting on a bench, that those proverbial riverside parks in all those small towns are a bit like painting up old houses: the shiny brand new coat of paint might simply be covering up so many flaws. 

the carpeting throughout the hotel was scary and my room was tiny, filled completely by a huge bed. essentially my room was a bed with a bathroom. one of my two bags was my kitchen and pantry. because i'm... different. because i'm not into moose-meat or whatever delicacy was on offer up in mattawa and beyond, i brought my own stuff. i woulda heated up dinner out on a table in the charming park beside the river, had it not begun to pour. so i set my camping stove up on the rickety bedside table. but, as i prepared the soup i'd brought, wouldn't you know that the smoke alarm would go off. i had to deal with that super swiftly before whatever fire-brigade mattawa has came crashing in. after that i shifted kitchen onto the bathroom floor, with the fan on, eastern style.

i was feeling uncomfortable in the night, which of course is not unusual. only i was also feeling stuck in the horrid smelly little room. so i went out to my car even as a storm raged and the bright lights of a laundromat lit up the world. i wandered a bit in-between downpours and eventually decided to go back in. and i woulda if i coulda only i couldn't. there was a procedure as described by a sign: 'wave stupidly at the sensor above the door and when a red light finally decides to come on place your dirty room card on the pad beside the door.' i tried many times unsuccessfully. eventually around six-thirty i phoned for the owner. he was quite good natured about it, showed me the exact procedure, not quite as described. but of course i assume that not too many guests go wandering out in the middle of the night in mattawa.

sudbury and the family affair was as previously described. and it was also beautiful. it was a beautiful, warm, heart-felt gathering of the clan. the kids and grand-kids are a good-looking, happy, friendly bunch. i connected after a few long years with my brother and sister-in-law, whom i adore, a couple of olde cousins i've known my whole life. i felt blessed to be there. it was well worth one or two uncomfortable nights, too many tim horton coffees and one near miss on the drive home. 

 

critical thinking.

 

"may your choices reflect your hopes rather than your fears." nelson mandela. 

i bought my current vehicle, a twelve-year-old 'highlander', because the sales-person told me they're the preferred vehicle of the taliban. i could not stop thinking about that. terrorists love 'toyota highlanders'. i didn't have the car checked by my mechanic, didn't even look underneath for rust. i just kept envisioning some axxhole standing up through the moonroof holding an AK47 with absolutely no concern that the car might break down or get stuck in the sand.

years ago i bought a bed off 'facebook marketplace' solely because it's adjustable and even has a massage function. when the lady who was selling the bed told me it vibrates i inanely said that i've always wanted a good vibrator. she just kinda looked at me strangely. and after purchasing the thing i've virtually never even adjusted it, and frankly i find the massage function mildly irritating. the only time i ever used either function was during the height of the pandemic, after weeks of isolation. once or twice i found myself raising and lowering both ends incessantly while simultaneously switching through the different massage modes.

i bought a house once because my dad told me it was a bad idea.

critical thinking is the intellectually disciplined process of actively and skillfully conceptualizing, applying, analyzing, synthesizing, and evaluating information gathered from, or generated by, observation, experience, reflection, reasoning, or communication, as a guide to decision-making. suffice it to say, that's never been my style. a friend recently remarked that my decision-making style more closely resembles a squirrel crossing the street. it was of course a valid point.

having said all that, i must add in my own defence that some of the worst decisions i've ever made somehow proved rather miraculously to change my life in the best of possible ways. i wrote a book a few years ago that cost me some friends. it was really a dumb decision to write it and even dumber to publish. and yet it has proved to be the book i'm most proud of having written and even prouder for having published it, (for sale tomorrow at the wakefield market.) returning from india after many years, for that matter, and settling in wakefield, where i'd never ever been, were terrible decisions that i'm so very fortunate to have made. 

the worst of all of course was the decision, made many many moons ago, to leave a promising and lucrative career with 'canadian press' to pursue a new interest in something really flakey called meditation. it just seemed obvious at the time, a no-brainer really, in spite of having exactly zero money. i reasoned that the value of directly experiencing buddha-consciousness, christ-consciousness, krishna-consciousness would be priceless. and having spectacularly succeeded or fruitlessly failed in that endeavour, i can only say that it remains the absolute best of all my terrible decisions.

"there are no wrong turns, only unexpected paths." mark nepo.

cats.

there's an ancient vedantic tale passed down from guru to chela, from generation to generation. i'll loosely translate it from the original sanskrit and put it into a more contemporary context. it goes something like this:

frank was fiercely attached to his cat. and so, when he went on a european holiday, he left his cat in the care of bob, his very best and most trusted friend. after a week or so he called and of course asked how his cat was doing. and bob blurted out: "i'm sorry but your cat's dead." frank was so devastated, so upset by the news that he couldn't even finish his holiday. he just turned around and went home.

once back at home frank confronted bob: "why did you just blurt such terrible news out like that? it was too harsh, too rough. you should've started by simply telling me, for example, that my cat's up on the roof and you're having trouble getting him down. then maybe a day or two later you could've mentioned that the cat fell off the roof and was at the vet's. only then, the next time, then you could've told me gently that the cat did not survive. that would've been better, a much easier and nicer way to break the news."

anyway, a year later frank decided to set out again on the same trip, this time to complete the journey since he didn't have any cat to worry about. nevertheless, around halfway through the trip he called bob and just asked how everything was back at home. and bob said: "your mother's up on the roof and i'm having trouble getting her down."

ok, so maybe it's not a story handed down from guru to chela throughout the ages, only my guru loved it. i don't know where he got it from, but he'd repeat it often and laugh each time. i honestly don't know what the moral of the story is or if there really is one. he seemed to think it was a clear indication of the illusory nature of our individual ego-consciousness. guruji would point out that frank was fine until he was told about the death of his beloved cat. in frank's mind his cat was very much still alive until he was made to believe otherwise. 

somehow, guruji likened that story to how we're horrified of death simply because we've been made to believe in it. in reality, he'd insist, there's no death because there never has been any birth: only life, one all-permeating life. and, as much as i may struggle with the concept, i do love it. i only suggest that our enquiry into the source of life must necessarily continue. and of course while our investigation continues we must also do everything possible to keep our dear-ones off the roof.

a magical mythological mystical love.

sahajataa is the love of my life who waited patiently, patiently. and then once we united i was led to what can only be described as an absolute bliss consciousness, saat chitt aanand. pre-conceived notions regarding what i needed or wanted simply fell away. our relationship may in itself be a kind of self-realization. 

i use the feminine term only since i identify as male. in reality sahajataa's beyond all that, beyond the beyond of all that. and i've largely gone beyond myself within her loving embrace. over the years the more united i've become with my mystical magical beloved the more i've become inspired by her effortless and unconditional affection, like a sun shining down on everyone indiscriminately. who and what i ever considered myself to be has diminished along the way to the point that i've been left wondering what will remain. when all the layers are finally peeled away and i lose myself fully within her loving embrace, what will remain? because i heard her whisper; tat twam asi, that thou art. 

i've found myself similarly to be left in a state of bemused disbelief regarding just about everything i'd previously been taught. i don't really believe i was ever all that i thought. and at the same time i no longer really believe or not whomsoever spoke of god, oneness or enlightenment. just because ancient sages introduced me to sahajataa does not mean i must gratefully accept all their assumptions that followed. of course i've no argument with faith if they call it that rather than actual knowingness. what i myself believe now is that if i don't know neither might they, neither mightn't they ever have known. and that's just how i feel. 

for once in a while someone will ask what i do. and my answer of course is that i'm retired. they're not asking what i used to do. and retired can be loosely translated as: i do nothing or i am nothing. which finally suits me so perfectly well, since i may also be everything. their question should be: who was the first mother? in fact where, how and why did this life, this underlying reality originate? they should ask me that, not because i have the answers, but because i won't pretend to know. of course i'll introduce sahajataa. she may have a friend.

the discovery of my magical mythical mystical love, needless to say, should never be minimized. for within ones beloved lies a possibility of freedom. not that even sahajataa can supply me with a final beatitude, although i might be pleasantly surprised, but because of an elemental acceptance of life, for what it's not and for all that it is. it may in the end actually be enough to know her.

the gummy.

certain folks, not surprisingly, were offended by what i wrote about the truckers during that memorable episode. it doesn't make me giddy with happiness to know i've upset people, nor does their lack of appreciation keep me up at night. the stupid prostate takes care of that just fine. i did delete the postings from facebook after, posted them yesterday on my blog-site for safe-keeping: artdelapaix.ca. 

one of the more colourful messages i've received, for example, went like this: "i've thought about learning meditation from you for some time. but your posts on facebook regarding the freedom convoy has turned me right the fxxk off. you call yourself a fxxkin man of peace and then you write angry shxt like that? fxxk you! i will not be joining your upcoming fxxkin meditation course." my immediate response, obviously, went like this: "who told you i'm a fxxkin man of peace? i've never said that. actually, i'm a fxxkin cranky old man. so, although i'll be fxxkin sorry to lose what would clearly have been your valuable input, i'll try my best to stay the fxxk calm and carry on." the fact is we've pulled the plug on my upcoming sessions anyway due to there being too much illness floating around at the moment.

i've held several private sessions in the last few months. and one young couple, who came most recently, generously brought a bag of 'happy goat' coffee and a tiny package of candies. upon handing me the candy, the lady mentioned that they're edible, which i thought an odd thing to say. i also thought it was odd that there were only two in the package, but i simply figured they must be quite special. and i discovered just how special a little while after scoffing one down the very next morning. 

it was delicous, thought about immediately eating the second, only by then i had recognized the familiar pot-plant motif on the package. not wanting to overdo a good thing i got busy and actually forgot all about it, until i realized i had the munchies. still, i really didn't think much about it and, after half a can of peaches, i took off to 'canadian tire.' but somewhere around 'cross-loop' i knew i was stoned. in fact, i was shxt-faced. it was remarkably strong, unsettling. i pulled off into the 'iga' parking lot and sat in my truck, waiting. as an old hippy, the feeling was not entirely unfamiliar in spite of it having been about fifty years since my last spliff. the problem was that i had absolutely no idea if there was more to come, so to speak, how fxxked up i was gonna get.    

the very first time i ever smoked a joint, in a friend's downtown toronto apartment, i kept insisting it wasn't affecting me. all i remember now, so many years later, is that i was leaning way out a window while my buddy held my legs, and i was hollering: 'this shxt's useless' over and over again. i recall that, a little while later, i was standing on a stool at a counter in a 'mr. donut' shop. and in my best w.c. fields voice i was hollering at the waitress: 'come over here my little apple fritter, my little vanilla cupcake.'

anyway, that was then and this is now. and i wondered: what's the difference between then and now? i really wasn't enjoying the fact that i was not in control of my being. that stuff was intense. but why did my buddy paul brown, just for example, end up in jail for a couple years. and how is it that now the stuff's considered medicine? in my day that was a hash brownie. now it's a gummy. but they both fxxk you up. 

i waited at the iga for about fifteen minutes before deciding, what the heck, and took off. i was able to buy what i set out to buy at 'canadian tire' without doing anything inappropriate. only i scraped the heck outta the side of my truck on a railing beside the carriage stand as i pulled out. and it occurred to me that i might've appreciated the truckers' convoy a heck of a lot more if i had simply eaten a gummy or two at the time. 

the fuggers' convoy. 6.

 

6. here's where we are.

it's both unsettling and exhilerating to watch events unfold pretty much as i expected. and of course i'm not the only one, just the only one in this room. now it's becoming more and more about trudeau and, as i've heard the term used so eloquently lately, his henchmen.

you surely can't still believe this trucker's convoy was ever about the mandates. you surely can't still be thinking they drove hundreds or thousands of kilometers because you lost your cushy federal job. which btw you lost because you stubbornly refused to accept an overwhelmingly safe and effective vaccine offered free to help save your life and the lives of people around you. you surely can't still think it was ever about truckers needing proof of vaccination to re-enter canada when they wouldn't have been able to go into the u.s. in the first place. come on: this was always going to be about trudeau. 

as an extremely normal shmo, i'm assuming i'm not privy to bits of information that government officials and others might have. but, i'm sure as hell privy to at least as much information as all the other shmos have. and i have no doubt that research i've tried to do over the past months and years has been far and away more objective, diverse and comprehensive than the shmos sitting in their trucks on wellington street, not to mention, with all due respect, you and so many other shmos. 

i've also been a pretty uninvolved observer as trudeau and his henchmen certainly seemed to be sincerely trying any way to save lives from a virus that claimed millions upon millions world-wide. they financially supported most everyone in the country through the worst of it. receiving a couple thousand bucks per month was no doubt ok with you. but, when he made coffee-shops inaccessible to the unvaxxed, that was not ok and he morphed into a nazi. you got angry at that point. it became a human-rights issue at that point.

i'd rather not be entirely misunderstood, if at all possible. losing your job did not sit well with me. whether justifiable or a governmental over-reach, it did not sit well with me. vaccine passports for unessential services: i was ok with that. but as much as it pissed me off that you wouldn't just this one time during a fuggin pandemic let go of your holier-than-thou attitudes and get the jab, i just didn't feel ok with you losing your livelihood. i wanted there to be another way. and if you had protested that, i wouldn't have written a word against you. but this mess, this perversion of the word 'protest', this abomination of the word 'freedom' was never about your job or the mandates. oh, maybe it was for you. but for the real 'patriots' this was always going to be about trudeau.

now while the mandates are swiftly disappearing the truckers are not. why not? why not claim victory and drive home, sit in front of their tvs, watch 'trucker' carlson and guzzle beer? because they've been waiting for this very moment, waiting to honk and jump around and yell: 'hey look, fuggin trudeau's tryin to be dictator! we told ya! we gotta save yous all from that immigrant-lovin bathdurd and his frickin henchmen!' in fact, this was probably never even specifically about trudeau.

so where do we go from here? 

the fuggers' convoy. 5.

 

5. in regard to one of the messages i've received following my previous posting, i must say that i highly doubt my opinions matter to many folks or influences any. 

that being said, i'd nevertheless like to clarify that i personally do not care whether you've been vaccinated against small-pox, cholera, polio or berry-berry. in regard to the pandemic we've been living through these past two years, i believe that refusing the vaccine a spectacularly selfish position to have taken, but i don't hate you for it. and hopefully it'll soon be less of an issue. if, however, you think what is happening in ottawa is a wonderful event, i believe you are at best a naive fool and at worst a racist bully. you don't seem to care that you're joining a group of people who are torturing residents and who basically are holding the city hostage under an obvious threat of violence.

of course, again, everyone is sick of lockdowns and of course nobody likes the mandates. but it is super curious that, just at a time when things were opening up and mandates were obviously going to loosen, that a group of hateful people organized an anti-mandate 'protest' that has shut the city down again. and you think that a few hours singing 'we are the world' makes it ok.

good luck with that. ps; don't forget to donate so the organizers can further their causes. i presume you know what those are. 

the fuggers' convoy. 4.

 

1. 4. if it weren't so unfortunate, support for this occupation by members of the so-called wellness community would be laughable. i mean, it's a little bizarre watching a well-known local environmental activist dancing wildly in the midst of diesel-choked downtown air. it's just weird to know people, who make their living supposedly helping folks become healthier and happier, essentially facilitating humongous hardships. every time i see one or another meditation teacher, ayurvedic healer, masseuse or whomever, laughing and dancing on their live-stream videos from downtown or expressing their support on facebook, i shake my head.

it's well known that there's a large percentage of 'wellness' folks who are vaccine-hesitant. and, other than while in the throws of a deadly pandemic, i could hardly care less. may you all live long and prosper, has always been my attitude. and if it were under those more normal circumstances, i would understand anger toward such a thing as a vaccine passport, although in fact that's always been a thing. i could understand protesting against mandates they feel infringe upon rights and freedoms. that being said, i suppose in that case i might maybe possibly and perhaps bend my head around understanding those folks having an initial innocent, illogical, naive and ill-conceived support for the convoy. 

however, to STILL be supporting the current protests here and on the bridges is truly unbelievable, reprehensible, not to mention somewhat moronic. did i say that out loud? i meant to just think it.

it is doubtful that there exists many or any governments around the world today, totalitarian or democratic, that would show as much restraint as ours has. even though i'm pretty darn sure there's a core group of protesters wanting violence, whose sole real purpose has always been to simply destabilize, i certainly would've called up the military by now, were i in a position to do so. and i've been a bonafide card-carrying member of the so-called wellness community for at least fifty years by any definition. 

those who profess to champion peace and love, environmental awareness, well-being and oneness, who STILL believe the cynically-named 'trucker's convoy of freedom' is a wonderful historical happening, are frankly themselves unwell.

the fugger's convoy. 3.

 

3. i skimmed through a bit of the emergency debate today. it must be said that it wasn't what trudeau said that bothered me. i agreed with everything that i heard him say. what bothered me was what he didn't say. i again have to mention that i only heard parts, so correct me if i'm wrong. but i heard nothing really conciliatory, certainly no plan even generally regarding the lifting of mandates, vaccine passports and such going forward. he spoke eloquently, but honestly, i didn't hear him say anything particularly helpful. am i wrong?

for what they're worth, my posts have been specifically regarding the protests in ottawa. if one were to take the organizers at face value, or even if you don't, (i have serious doubts, don't really believe a word they say,) trudeau may have missed an opportunity to diffuse the situation. he simply could've, as other governments have done, OFFERED at least some sort of a PLAN for the lifting of mandates going forward. he could've offered SOMETHING. he could've emerged, covid-free, and shown actual leadership.

the fugger's convoy. 2.

 2. posting as a reaction to a few private messages:

for the past 2+ years I've listened to so many people talk at me in regards to the vaccines and mandates. I have rarely if ever offered opposing views, and often agreed with points being made. i rarely disagreed fundamentally because I'd rather not. also, nobody has asked. 

many, btw, are folks who at one time or another seemed to think that i might be of some help, that my knowledge might be of some benefit to them. and yet I cannot recall a time in the last couple of years that any of those same people have really been open to my views in this regard. 

so this one time I've boldly expressed my views, on my own fb page, precipitated by the current so-called demonstration in town. these are my views. up until now i've never unfriended anyone, been pretty definite about that. if i've lost friends now, due to my expressing my opinions, so be it. i've actually lost a couple of friends because of covid in the only way that actually matters. 

the fuggers' convoy. 1

1. i've heard some pretty bizarre, laughable ideas and theories over the past couple of years. but right now, as huge trucks driven by small people hold ottawa citizens hostage, one refrain i've heard a few times by anti-vaccinated, anti-mandate people is: 'it's an historic event.' that line represents to me the very essence of the mentality of those people applauding the so-called and ludicrously entitled 'freedom convoy.' 

this is undoubtedly an historic event. it just doesn't happen to be a nice historic event. and the people who happily proclaim it as such are essentially proclaiming themselves to be what they are: selfish, self-oriented and ignorant people. they're illogical, ill-informed and apparently more than willing to align themselves with racist bullies if they're not themselves racist bullies. 

nobody loves vaccinations. certainly nobody likes lockdowns, shutdowns, wearing masks or whatever else has been introduced in an attempt to keep people alive. what everyone needs to decide is whether these measures, imperfect as they may be, have indeed been put in place to help. or has it all been to take advantage of us.

if those clearly misguided folks actually looked objectively at credible information, the science and data, they might still demonstrate, for one reason or another. i might even join in. but they certainly would not be supporting a 'demonstration' which is effectively, clearly the opposite of freedom.

rejoice.

 "when you were born you cried and the world rejoiced. live your life so that when you die the world cries and you rejoice.” cherokee.

as i awoke this morning i felt good, didn't even know where i was. it was a matter of hardly a moment, and still felt good. so i asked myself why. why did i feel good? in fact, who was i in deep sleep? was there a nathan at that time? and if in effect nathan did not exist then, but existed upon waking, feeling good, what does that all mean?

indigenous folks liken death to a going home. yogis liken death to a deep meditation. and perhaps we go home or we meditate daily, in deep sleep, and we love it. didn't someone famous once famously say: 'i die daily'?

perhaps the problem only exists before we sleep, meditate, and especially before we die. because we don't wanna go home. we love it here. we don't wanna let go, even though eventually we have no choice. but then falling asleep is lovely, meditating's blissful. and maybe we should re-think death.

"there is no me. i do not exist. there used to be a me, but i had it surgically removed." peter sellers.