Two sides of the same coin

I wanted to put this out on the main page of my blog because it addresses the primary conundrum of this existence
in a nicely clear cut way...



Anonymous said...
But what if we don't love the world?

And what if the world doesn't love us back?

What if we never look in other peoples' faces?

I might as well be tugging my father's shirttail asking: Where does God live? Or: Daddy, am I going to die?

Do what he did. Point at the sky.
And lie. Tell me I'm going to live forever.

Tell me the world loves me--and that I love it, regardless of how brutal, how ugly it can be. Tell me that even though I can't meet peoples' eyes, that they still see me.

I took 2 personality tests tonight and discovered what I already knew: I am intensely introverted, and selfish, and brutal. Which is why I won't sign my name here tonight. But you know who I am. You know me.

To quote Bishop: When they write my epitaph, you must say that I was loneliest person who ever lived.





To which I replied:


Well, you certainly have a valid point. I am the last person who would try to pretend that all is sunshine and light in this samsaric realm. In many ways, the only rational stance is to see the evil in the world and in ourselves and to face it squarely and say "this is bad."

But some people do live in the light. This can't be denied.

So what does this mean for us? Is it delusion?

Perhaps. But it seems that to deny the light is as incorrect as denying the dark. Each day the sun rises as well as sets. Half of every day is flooded with light.

And even in the darkest night, some light leaks out.


For me the key has been to keep my eyes open at all times and to let each moment unfold without judgement as to the moment which preceeded it.

Not "is this moment good? is this moment bad?" but

"What is this moment?"

"What is this moment?"

"And, now, this one?"


A second key has been the decision to treat myself as I would a stranger. If a stranger came to you and said "Oh, I feel so bad. I am ugly, I am mean to my children,
I have failed at this or that," would you respond to them "Oh, yes, and look at your ugly clothes, and your stupid face. And what about letting your parents down? Everything you do is stupid and inconsequential, etc..."

Well, maybe you would, but I hope not.

So I try to treat myself with the same compassion I would give to a perfect stranger.


Then I try to treat myself as a friend.


When the oyster is clamped shut, it takes a tool of razor sharpness, a great deal of force, and a sure and certain hand to pry it open.

It won't happen if you just sit it on the plate and wait.


But, oh, it's fresh and salty and good once you get the bastard open.