Have You Noticed? Something’s Always Wrong.

Carl

For me Taoism and being a Taoist requires no belief, in fact just the opposite it requires one give up belief and discover ones own Universal embedded truth. Belief requires, as you correctly point out, some "thing" to believe in. The Tao is the Way" of energy an action, not a thing. This action is constantly changing and morphing and re-creating and so therefore requires one to be vigilant, remaining constantly aware of ones inner connection and submersion in the Way and thus "at one with the Universe".

Carl

After living in, or at the edge of, a peasant life style in Asia for years, circumstances brought me to live amongst the elite class in Stockholm Sweden. One remarkable thing I noticed was how those folks who had ‘everything’ found just as much wrong with life (and perhaps even more) as those poorest of folks I lived among in Asia. That puzzled me greatly for awhile. I finally attributed what I had observed to Nature.

Nature, I've noticed, endows each individual with a certain amount of ‘potential worry energy’. The degree varies widely between individuals though genetic variability, and has little to do with circumstances. Thus, if [chref=51]circumstances[/chref] are difficult, our ‘worry energy’ burns itself on the practical difficulties facing the individual. On the other hand, what does our innate ‘worry energy’ burn itself on when [chref=51]circumstances[/chref] are easy – comfortable and secure? It finds something! We become more neurotic as we pick at life until we find ‘something wrong’. Nuts, we just can’t win. Is all hopeless?

Perhaps not. Realizing this predicament is here to stay motivates me to let go of as much comfort and security as I can. This leads to increasing simplicity (physically, emotionally and intellectually). A simpler life brings with it simpler [chref=63]difficulties[/chref] which are more straightforward for ‘worry energy’ to work on. It is like paying up front instead of buying something on credit. Sure, life is still suffering, but at least it’s not as neurotic.

Joe

Reminds me of "you can pay me now, or you can pay me later". We all like to have our pleasures now, but want to put off whatever suffering/difficulties are associated with that pleasure. As if procrastinating might magically make the difficulties go away for good. Of course they don't; in the meantime we get all that extra time for our "worry energy" to get stewing really good.

Lynn Cornish

The degree varies widely between individuals though genetic variability, and has little to do with circumstances.

This is so true! I noticed it first in my husband...when he didn't have my drinking to worry about because I quit, he started worrying about his job.

I also noticed that when I quit working, my stress threshold lowered. Now, instead of being blissfully stress free, I stress out about minor things or problems that are only in my head.

It doesn't seem fair. As they say, you can't win for losing. Meanwhile, I choose to hold on to my comforts.

P.S. Isn't it more neurotic to let go of comforts than to keep them if they are there? I look at my dogs: if they have a choice of sleeping on the floor or on the bed, they choose the bed everytime!

Lynn Cornish

I stepped right in that one, didn't I? There's nothing wild or natural about my house dogs. They have been sucked into our human civilization and they are glad of it! I once took my 2 labs camping and were they ever bummed out! It was cold and rainy and the ground wasn't padded and carpeted!

What you are saying is that if you sit in a chair, you need a chair; if you sleep in a bed, you need a bed. Without these comforts, you could be content sitting cross-legged or sleeping on the ground. Even more significant, it's good for your flexibility and flexibility is good for the body's long run.

Carl

[cite] Lynn Cornish:[/cite]… Meanwhile, I choose to hold on to my comforts.
P.S. Isn't it more neurotic to let go of comforts than to keep them if they are there?

Rather than focus on what I lose by letting go of comfort, for example, I welcome what replaces that loss. When I ‘make space’ surprising things happen. Certainly though, [chref=5]holding fast to the void[/chref] in exchange for holding fast to what we have, (comfort, things, security, friends, etc.) can feel like pulling teeth.

[cite] Lynn Cornish:[/cite]What you are saying is that if you sit in a chair, you need a chair; if you sleep in a bed, you need a bed. Without these comforts, you could be content sitting cross-legged or sleeping on the ground. Even more significant, it's good for your flexibility and flexibility is good for the body's long run.

I see this as more an issue of how we always are looking for ways to make life ‘better’. Chairs, beds, sit-down toilets and such are part of that quest, just as refined foods for another example, have been. As Henry David Thoreau said, “A man is rich in proportion to the number of things he can afford to let alone”. The Tao Te Ching point to this simplicity as, ‘[chref=46]Hence in being content, one will always have enough[/chref]’. In seeking 'better' we pay a price. Other things become 'worse'. Often the price is just not worth the cost! There is always a trade-off I find. As I always say, it boils down to either, "short term pleasure, long term pain" or "short term pain, long term pleasure". One is [chref=63]difficult[/chref]; one is [chref=64]easy[/chref].

Lynn Cornish

I see this as more an issue of how we always are looking for ways to make life ‘better’.

I was trying to get at that by saying "you need a chair." Needing furniture only increases desire. But denying yourself comfort is not getting at the root of the problem, which is having desire in the first place.

It reminds me of this sad story: my boyfriend in my late 20's wrote me a letter, a "dear jane" letter, from India, saying he was breaking up with me because Bhagwan said to get rid of your attachments and he was attached to me. Wasn't that stupid? I mean, the boyfriend totally missed the point, which is to deal with the root of attachment, not the object of attachment.

Isn't that similar to a chair? (Other than that the chair isn't nearly as sensitive as I was/am.)

Carl

[cite] Lynn Cornish:[/cite]

I see this as more an issue of how we always are looking for ways to make life ‘better’.

I was trying to get at that by saying "you need a chair." Needing furniture only increases desire. But denying yourself comfort is not getting at the root of the problem, which is having desire in the first place.

Certainly, giving up ‘attachments’ is completely useless, if by giving up we mean willful action like “denying”. That is akin to being attached to non-attachment. But, this isn’t a question of whether we ‘need furniture’, or what-not, either. It is a question of how content we can be without furniture, or what-not. Contentment is a feeling, and begs the question: can we foster that feeling in our daily life; and if so how? Willfully giving up stuff – denial – doesn’t work, at least for more than the fleeting, transitory sensation of success (which isn’t actually [chref=44]contentment[/chref] in any case). So?

Smoking is a good example, though any dependency issue (food, sex, work, life, drugs, etc.) applies. I smoked for years, and gave it up at least a dozen times. I finally gave up giving up. Then, lo and behold, within a few years I quite naturally, and for good (or so it seems so far). One day 20 years ago I stopped and never hungered for another puff. Why so easy then, yet so impossible before?

I became tired of the craving; the need was controlling my life; I was a slave. At that point, I truly no longer wished to be held in tobacco’s bondage. I didn’t choose to quit mind you. Every time I did that I failed. It really [chref=17]happened to me naturally[/chref]. It appears that this is now true of most aspects of my life now, to one degree or another. Why?

All I can say is that the space that opens up when I let go brings deeper [chref=33]contentment[/chref] than when I hang on. I don’t hang on to things because hanging on makes me content. I hang on out of a fear of letting go. So, in the end, fear of discomfort drives me to comfort; fear of loss drives me to hang on; fear of loss prevents me from letting it be; fear is life’s most powerful driving force. Living in fear feels like a living death to me, which may explain why it holds increasingly less sway over me. Who knows though? Perhaps I have just migrated from feeling the fear of loss over to feeling fear of the fear of loss.