Buddha's Four Noble Truths reconsidered

Gina Stoner, author of 'Talks With Al' has here condensed a talk given in a Zen group by the late Sexton Bourke in 2001. She explains that the talk so impressed her that she wished to share it more widely. She was careful to tell us that her condensation is a paraphrase that borrows nothing of the original talk except its essential argument.

The Four Noble truths are considered to be the bedrock of Buddhism, yet are merely an expression of something that words cannot define. They are not truth but expressions of the truth.

The first is the noble truth of dukkha or suffering. It states that life is suffering. Do you agree with this? Certainly, much of life is unpleasant and things seem so arranged that good and bad generally alternate, with just enough comfort around to stop us cutting our throats.

However dukkha is Pali word - a word from a language and culture that no longer exists. And so the original meaning could be obscure. Fortunately Buddha spoke a lot about dukkha. In fact he equated it with attachment, reaction to things - the process of getting caught, obsessed, intrigued with outward objects. And, once, he broadly defined dukkha as 'impermanence'.

So, in this context, dukkha is everything around us. Because everything we see is impermanent. Everything is subject to entropy. Even life or 'negative entropy' finally succumbs. Reality as we know it is subjective, dependent, conditional. It is a flux with no finality. An alphabet soup continually stirred.

The second noble truth states the origin of this dukkha, how it comes about. The standard explanation is the cause of dukkha, or suffering, is desire. An unwanted moral element enters in here. But if we take suffering as 'impermanence' then this interpretation does not stand. The second noble truth then becomes: 'impermanence is not absolute'. Unfortunately our egos are invested in 'impermanence' even though our hearts seek an absolute value. In this sense, ego is dukkha - impermanent.

So what then would the absolute be? It would be something that does not change. Not in the sense of a dead thing because this something would be intensely alive, creative, profound. And it would also transcend time - or, one could say, would have no beginning or end. A limitless thing - able to be sensed, perhaps, but impossible to define.

So we come to the third noble truth which is usually presented as the extinction of desire. Once again we are back in value judgements.

But, if we agree that the conditioned world is not absolute and that the ego is the cause of its arising, what, then, is the third noble truth?

Surely that suffering is ended by experiencing the absolute.

For some, this means manufacturing a kind of blankness. This is the blind alley that many Buddhists teachers warn against. The absolute is not a negation but the most lively affirmation possible. But even Zen, in this context, is merely a finger pointing to the moon.

The fourth noble truth refers to method - the eightfold noble path. This provides practical ways to approach the third - the experience of the absolute. It sets down precise codes of conduct irrelevant to the conversation here.

To restate:

1. Life is impermanence.
2. Impermanence is not absolute.
3. The angst of impermanence is ended by experiencing the absolute.

The advantage of this definition is that value judgements are negated. There is no longer a moral issue in the conventional sense. Simply an invocation to truly practise your spiritual tradition.

Pushing stones up-hill - the myth of Sisyphus

Among the books in the late Joy Lonsdale's library was Albert Camus's The Myth of Sisyphus - which is, among other things, a polemic on the rationality of suicide. And inserted into this book was a note in Joy's handwriting that is possibly her own work. Appended here for your interest:

This King of Corinth earned the enmity of Zeus by informing and angry father that the King of the Gods had carried off his daughter, Aegina - who was to become great-grandmother to Achilles.

Zeus decided that Sisyphus must die, but did not wish to honour him by sending Hermes to conduct him to Tartarus (region of Hell). He sent a lesser messenger Thanatos, whose name meant 'death'.

However, Sisyphus, a man of infinite resource and courage, succeeded in binding Thanatos in chains and returned calmly to take his place among the living.

After some time, Thanatos was released and sent again to Sisyphus. This time, however, Sisyphus made another plan. He instructed his wife to omit any funeral rites and to offer none of the special gifts to Persephone which were supposed to placate that goddess of the underworld and ease the passage of the one who had died.

Persephone, thus, has no knowledge of Sisyphus's death and, when confronted by him, was persuaded that he had been conducted to Tartarus by mistake. She ordered him to be freed.

So Sisyphus again escaped Tartarus and resumed his life.

Now Zeus was determined that there should be no third escape. Sisyphus was taken again to Tartarus under strong guard and his impiety was blazoned forth for all to know. Once in Tartarus he was condemned to a unique punishment - to roll a huge rock up a hill. Just when the summit was reached, the rock rolled back and he was forced to resume his task at the bottom of the hill. And this went on through eternity.

In another legend, Sisyphus appears as the father of Odysseus. Indeed, the great voyager displayed the same kind of cunning and resourcefulness but never bent them to impious deed.

Here ends Joy's presumed rant on Sisyphus, the most crafty prince of the heroic ages. Where she found the information, we'll never know. We note that in Lempriere's Classical Dictionary of 1919, Pluto, Lord of the Underworld, is cited as the one who imposed the rock-rolling punishment. And the institution of the Pythian games is attributed to Sisyphus.

So where does all that leave you? Between a rock and a hard place?  You can read Joy's erudite books on Buzzword.

Writing fiction - art or business?

This from Buzzword Books Commissioning Editor, Dan Mills:

Start strong

How you begin is all important. Your title is your shop-front pitch. And your first paragraph is what is in the window. So you'll begin with dialogue or action and preferably both, constructed in the most interesting way you can conceive. Leave your deadly flashbacks, narrative, back story for much later. In fact, leave these things out if you can. Do it on the top story. Drama. Progression. Directness. Simplicity. Let it march. As for endings. They are the pinion of you whole story. Know exactly where you are going so that everything leads to that point.

 

Character relevance, not flatulence

And, of course, your characters will be what? Stereotypes? Caricatures. (two-dimensional). Or fully rounded complex studies (three-dimensional). Will you be Dickens or Flaubert? Both methods have their place, depending on the story. Of course, you will avoid long descriptions of your characters that bog down the action.
  You need to be an impressionist - to know what to highlight and what to leave out. You will learn this by observing people. Constantly watching, looking. There are even techniques that can help here. Spend an hour looking at nothing but people's shoes. You'll find it's a revelation. Once you've decided by the shoes what kind of person is wearing them, look up to see if you are right. The same can be done with hairstyles, jewellery and watches, colours of jackets and so on.

Refine

Writing is rewriting. And sentences should have balance, weight. Don't dribble a sentence to its conclusion. End it well. Perhaps on an emphatic word. Or a short one at least. Listen to the lilt of the syllables. A good ear is the writer's best friend. And, for God's sake, speak your dialogue aloud. You'll be amazed at the difference it makes. And break it up. Don't be dreary. You're not writing a menu. Light and shade. Remember always that you're writing prose.
  Metrical phrasing is death. You're not Milton. It's not blank verse. If you want to be a poet, be honest about it. 'Kill your darlings,' is very good advice for the commercial fiction trade. If you try to slip in sonorous sentences, you'll simply confuse and annoy your audience. It may be appreciated at your writer's club. But showing off is bad business in the cash-and-carry fiction market.
  And once it's written, put your second hat on. Edit, edit, edit. Chop out everything you can. Until it's lean, spare, effective.
  Well, that's enough for one article. Get it? Got it? Good.

Sex, Timelines and the Murder-Mystery novel

Peta Fox, author of the brilliant Jen Madden series of mysteries, extrapolates on her methods of work,approach to humour, sex, satire and salaciousness.

Hi! When you write a murder-mystery series, you'd better know what you're doing. And where you're coming from. And who your central detective is.

The Detective

Jen Madden is my amateur sleuth. She's a raunchy, foxy, super-cynical reformed optimist who is happy to go to bed with both sexes and relishes beautiful, and dominant women. Jen is no pushover. She has a quip for every putdown, an off-centre angle for every situation. She's a walking time and sex bomb. And she knows it. Is Jen Madden Peta Fox? Well, not exactly. I don't have her bravery. I'm not as sassy. But I have her mindset loud and clear. Jen is who I'd love to be - without the terror, drama, mad situations. But then, you can't have everything.

The Plot and Timeline

Here, you really get into deep water. A well-constructed mystery depends on the interaction of at least ten characters. And you have to know where each is, what they know, what they are doing and have just done, who they have seen, what their motivations are. All at once. Otherwise nothing holds together. It takes a while to get this right. In fact, there's only one way to get it right. Forget rundowns for each character. That's too loose. The only way to do it properly... Okay - the only way I can do it properly - is to get a huge sheet of paper and draw vertical columns down it - one column for each character - and that gives you a great advantage - a visible timeline.

When something happens to character 1 involving character 6, then you can look across the columns and see what each knows and how they reacted. And how that affected character 12 the next morning. And what character 3 has to do when they learn about what happened between 1 and 6 the previous night.

Do you see what's happening here. On your huge sheet listing the actions and knowledge and emotional state of all the characters, you also have a timeline. You can position the action vertically to show exactly what is going on right across your cast.

In other words, you're using a spreadsheet like Excel. But don't imagine for a moment that Microsoft's baby can help you, even if you have the widest monitor going. You really need to do this on you great big sheet, rock-and-rolling the entries using pencil and rubber. That way, you're in full control and can instantly refer back and forward. There's no scrolling or jumping from spread to spread. You can't do it that way because you need to see the WHOLE thing at once - even if it's a linked series of sheets that stretches the length of the hall.

Because you are going to end up with at least fifteen very large sheets with vertical columns. And these need to be spread along the floor before you can see the complete panorama of what is always a vastly complicated plotline. Want to write a mystery novel. Dur! It take work!

Character

So you have a funky detective and a fully worked out mystery plotline. You're already two strikes ahead. But there's a lot more to it than that. A novel, even a genre novel, has to entertain. And if you are a boring as batshit writer, you'll fall on your face no matter how well you've conceived your detective and your plot. You need to surprise, shock, delight, intrigue, engage. And all of that comes out of the interplay of characters. And if those characters are two dimensional - off the rack stock stereotypes - you're not only a bad scribe, you're bone lazy.

Sense of Fun

There is another secret to this one. You have to enjoy your book. If you don't enjoy it, how the hell do you expect anyone else to?

Okay, so there are a few pointers to writing a professional murder-mystery. Yes, I know. The murder should appear in the first chapter to grab interest. There should be red herrings everywhere. Yada yada. You can read all that stuff in the always boring tomes on how to write. We're not talking about the bare bones here. We're on about the guts of the process.

Think I'm full of shit?  Then read a Jen Madden mystery. The series is on Buzzword. You can get a book for less than you'd pay for a cup of coffee.

Final advice - don't write.

Oh yes - one more piece of sage advice. If you can possibly avoid writing, do so. Writing is an obsession and an obsession is a disease. And there is no pot of gold down the track, so don't waste your life trying to become famous or rich in this area because you won't. Find some practical craft or skill that will leave you with something real when you've finished. Like pottery, woodwork, welding, home brewing - anything but typing drivel onto a screen.  And that's the best advice I know about writing. 

Go in peace.

AWARENESS AND THE BIG TOE

Gina Stoner, author of Talks With Al, has studied esoteric systems much of her life. We asked her to share more of her insights with our blog community. Here is the result:

The human is a creature always distracted. Even when we are studying, we are never present to the act. Concentration is not awareness, merely a slightly more intentional form of identification.

Try this experiment. As you read these words, try to be aware of your left foot. Whatever you do, be sure to never forget that you have a left foot.

Simply to say in your head 'left foot' or to clench the toes will not do. And if your foot is shoeless and sockless, touching the foot won't do either. The sense of touch is a sense like hearing. It is not awareness.

So this is not a mental exercise. You are asked to become aware of your foot existentially. Either be aware of the skin of the foot - the actual skin sensation - or become mindful of the foot by sensing it from inside. What is needed here is not a wilful gritting of the teeth. It is much more like relaxation. Something we are not used to at all.

And, if you try, you will soon see that what is suggested is far less simple than the description.

Because no one has ever taught us to be aware of ourselves intrinsically. Our parents and teachers know nothing about it. There are no courses at technical college dealing with self-sensing. We have been taught to live in our heads - to think our lives. And what little attention we have for self-awareness is sucked away by our ever-dominant, random, reactive thoughts. We either think - or experience. In other words, to experience is not mental. It is an awareness involving the whole of ourselves.

So are you aware of your foot now? No. Because you were almost immediately distracted by these words on a screen.

Begin again.

Your Left Foot

Yes, your left foot. Take a moment to explore it.

The foot has a sensitive sole, five toes, a heel, an instep. And it's attached to an ankle. Can you be aware of each in turn?

Start with the sole. Visualise yourself stepping onto gravel. The gravel is rough, sharp. And the sole needs to know this and protect itself by walking as gingerly as possible.

Visualisation is not thinking or representing things to yourself with words. It is a more intelligent process because it does not require sub-vocalisation - the definition of everything we do. So there is a chance that you now have a vague impression of the sole of your left foot. Can you sense the fabric of sock against the skin? The pressure of the shoe?

Now, the toes. Begin with the big one. Can you be aware of it as a separate unit? The nail area, the first joint. The top of the toe. The tip. The sides. The underside. Then the whole toe?

The big toe should be more accessible in this process than the smaller ones. Don't rush it. If you wish to know your toe, as if from inside, it is not a matter of a moment's effort. It is a slow, intentional study. It could be a minute or ten before you are really in touch with your big toe.

Then try the next toe the same way. Now it will be harder.

You see that relating to your foot in a significant way is a more rigorous study than you thought.

You have, of course, stopped reading this to practise what is suggested? No? Too impatient? Or is your precious self far too important to spend time on something so useless?

But in this study, the seemingly least important things are the most vital, significant of all.

Your foot, remember?

But you didn't. You read the last paragraph oblivious to the task. Because we have never learnt to split our attention - to do one thing while attending to another.

P.D. Ouspensky represented this act as a two headed arrow.

<-----------I am aware of my toe while -------> at the same time being aware of what is necessary in outer life.

Are you ready for the next step? Of course not because you have barely attempted the first.

But life doesn't wait for us to catch up. Having failed the first test, you are now presented with something harder. That's how things are.

Stand in front of another person. There will be a conversation - probably social. Don't try this when the interaction is important.

You stand there and they stand there facing you - and you talk.

When they ask you a question such as, 'How are you today?' you respond.
    'Not too bad,' you say. Or whatever you say. But, at the same time, can you be aware of the skin of your face in the same way that you tried with the foot?
    <---------the skin of your face.
    ----------> your response, to the other person.
    Why try this?
    Because, perhaps for the first time in your life, you will then have a new impression of yourself and your world.
    Instead of just reactively talking to another person it will be...
<---------------YOU in front of -----------> ANOTHER.
    Once again simple and fiendishly difficult, because how long will you be able to sustain it?
    If these exercises interest you, there are many more.
    Of course, if they don't, then forget you read this immediately. Because this line of enquiry is not for you.
    Meanwhile....
    Do you still have a foot?

Talks With Al is available on Buzzword. You can also contact Gina to discuss such matters here.

Gilbert & Sullivan Operas—art at the level of immortality

Author Clint Smith is a Gilbert and Sullivan tragic. He tells us he has seen all the Operas several times over the years and even acted in a few. And that they never lose their freshness. Here is his appreciation:

The G&S phenomenon is well documented indeed. Every remaining artifact and anecdote has been mined by books, reviews, miniseries, films and documentaries. Every quip, musical reference, faded photograph, cartoon, playbill, costume sketch, has been lovingly reproduced, repeated, recounted, annotated. 

So there is little more to say. Except to point out that it is now almost 139 years since Trial By Jury was first staged in 1875 and 143 since Thespis (1871).

Any comic opera that survives more than a century is not only notable but also exceptional. And the works of Gilbert and Sullivan are certainly that—derivative at times, weak in patches, but generally so perfectly constructed that the grand edifice appears unmarked by time. And the enthusiasm of everyone who appears in such productions or attends them is equally timeless.

After the triumph of one masterpiece, The Gondoliers, an unusually benign Gilbert wrote to Sullivan: "I must thank you for the magnificent work you have put into this piece. It gives one the chance of shining right through the twentieth century with a reflected light." Sullivan replied: "Don't talk of reflected light. In such a perfect book as The Gondoliers you shine with an individual brilliance which no other writer can hope to attain." Both were right. But neither man could have envisaged that the gracious old operas, like majestic galleons depicted by Turner, would sail not only through the twentieth century with their lilt and brilliance undimmed but into the next—the age of Higgs bosons, Mars rovers, quantum entanglement and stem cells.

This is more remarkable when you consider that, when Thespis was produced, the orchestra wore top hats and the cast rehearsed with handwritten manuscripts because the typewriter had not been invented. And that the whole production was lighted by a central T shaped arrangement of gas jets that illuminated the piece so poorly that anyone not centre-stage vanished into gloom.

Before Gilbert met Sullivan, he was a very successful playwright. His plays are now long forgotten except by G&S researchers. As for Sullivan, that darling of Royalty, he hoped to restore the reputation of British music with serious works such as his oratorios The Prodigal Son and The Light of the World—ponderous attempts now as neglected as Gilbert's plays.

Compared to the sublime composers of Austria and Germany, Sullivan's serious music is mundane. And in his comic operas, his sense of fun and parody of the 'greats' is easily dismissed by those with cultural pretensions. If tunefulness and adroitness is not 'serious' mediocre intellects would not dare not call it 'great'. Consequently, as a composer, he has long listed with the lightweights.

But time is the ultimate art critic and the ageless popularity of the music increasingly affirms its worth. So, as the operas dance through the centuries, the opinion of Sullivan had to be revised. British music has few significant composers. And in that company, Sullivan is a giant. Strangely, this man, who detested being shackled to light opera, yet could toss off the evergreen score of Trial By Jury in a couple of days, consistently failed to see where his supremacy lay. Yet his audience knew it at once. And posterity has proved it right.

As for Gilbert, his translation of his lugubrious Bab Ballads into masterful topsyturveydom, together with his brilliance as a producer/stage manager—unique in his era—and, not least, his admirable good taste, provide virtues enough to secure his position among the exalted. But this was just part of his accomplishment. He did something even more remarkable—wrote satire that is universal. So his operas do not date! And this has thrust him among the immortals with equal thunder, fanfare and acclaim.

The Savoy Operas now grace Grand Opera Theatres—whenever they are seriously short of funds—remain the staple of school musical productions and continue to be enthusiastically produced by amateur and semi-professional groups worldwide.

Gilbert and Sullivan did far more than revive British comic opera (which had languished since The Beggars Opera—150 years before them). They created a body of work, so sparkling, witty and endearing that it will breeze through the twenty-first century and probably the twenty-second.

If that is not evidence of epic artistic achievement, what is?

You can find Clinton Smith's thrillers on Buzzword.

Justice, morality, evolution and their relation to the inner and outer worlds

We asked John Alexandra, author of Journey Beyond God, to expound a little more on his particular world view. We suggested the theme of Justice. But as this essay shows, in the esoteric area, some subjects cannot be separated. For this particular student of the occult, all roads lead to Rome.

They say there is no justice in this world. Is this true?

 Certainly, as Ecclesiastics proclaims, 'the race is not to the swift nor the battle to the strong nor riches to men of understanding'.
Can we quibble with this?

JUSTICE AND THE OUTER WORLD
Around us we see the most appalling miscarriages of justice. We see children butchered and raped, murderers pardoned, brutal dictators exulted, crooked officials given immunity, terrorists congratulated, and the general population exploited like cattle by governments, criminals and corporations.

We see those who get ahead doing 'whatever it takes' to make their way—trampling over people who still preserve some residual conscience, decency or shame. 

They say that the good die first. They also tend to come last. Winners are often expedient, deceptive, ruthless users. The few decent people who manage to breathe the rarefied air of material success mostly arrive uncharacteristically through some stroke of luck or ability.

So, if you wish to get ahead, as they say in New York, "Never give a sucker an even break."

WHY IS HUMANITY VENAL?
Obviously humans are flawed—have the ability to cock things up. As someone once remarked: "We foul our nests wherever we go."

Animals and plants don't have this latitude. They function as perfect machines—doing exactly as they should. There is no malice in the puma's ferocity. It kills to eat as it must. A tree is never adulterous. A sparrow never exhibits spite. 


Yet into this perfectly ordered world blunders the human primate—the bane of all life forms and foe of biodiversity—spreading like a cancer on the skin of the planet, plundering, polluting, despoiling all it sees.


IS THE HUMAN MADNESS REALLY PART OF NATURE?
We have to admit it is. Humanity—this sore that considers itself the centre of the universe—has such a rampant ego that it considers itself  not merely one of nature's components but a phenomenon. Yet it is definitely part of nature, if not quite like other life forms. As a theologian might explain it – it has free will.