Tuesday, June 23, 2015


Reading A Short History of Myth, Armstrong talks about how rocks are imbued with the divine. I have rocks on my shrine. I fancy myself some who is modern and fights against the inflation of meaning at times. I've been asking about sacred and profane in this blog, at times.

The book The Buddha's Wife: The Path of Awakening Together reimagines the story of Yashodra, sees the Buddha and his wife as a couple, not as a solo journey, and provides a flourishing of alternative opportunities for the transcendent principle. Yashodra is probably not historically true, but it is part of the mythology of Buddhism.

Do I need a mythology to help me get to work? Do I need a mythology as a parent? New York City is packed with psychoanalytic institutes. Why is the Jungian one the most expensive?

I've been working to be more practical, I think about the Monty Python skit where there is a philosophers soccer game. Nobody is kicking the ball because they're all thinking and then one of the philosophers stops thinking and starts kicking the ball, dribbles down and scores a goal.

I think about a painting at MOMA I saw once called "The indifference of Sisyphus". Instead of the drudgery of rolling a rock up a hill just to roll back down, Sisyphus is having fun, enjoying the process.

This morning I've been thinking about the great mother and the great father. It was father's day, and I think about all my male ancestors over one shoulder and all my female ancestors over my other shoulder. I think about someone in my life that I lost, and the cycle of life.

And the sky. There is talk of "big sky mind" in Buddhism. Armstrong talks about the sky being a connection to the divine. As a non-theist, for me the divine is the transcendental principle, the three jewels are my higher power. I love the sky, I think it's the most reliable source of beauty in my life. If you get a sadhana practice, you imagine your special Bodhisattva in the sky, connecting it to this special place.

There is a vastness in the sky, which can lead to reverence. Bowing to my shrine, bowing to the refuge tree, bowing to the Buddha, Kuan Yin, Manjushri, I open myself up to the wonder.

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