The Universe at the Bottom of the Empty Cup
During my short stint as a potter, I discovered a combination of cup glazes that allowed for a magical chai-drinking experience. After the sharing ritual of sitting and sipping chai together with a friend, the drinker looks into the cup to find an expansive universe of deep shimmering and reflected light. While connecting with a thirsty guest, the drinker empties the vessel. By emptying the vessel and looking inside, the drinker reveals the spacious universe at the bottom of it all - in which his or her reflection is dispersed and interwoven with everything else in a web of light. With time and evaporation, the bottom will become an opaque layer of dried chai and spices. It is then time to invite another friend over for a cup.
One of my realizations during this HKE is that the cup exists to be filled and emptied. This process represents the curiosity and concern of the simple human act of kindness. It represents the oscillation between unity and separateness that is the human condition.
******
My trip started in Delhi, where for the first time I subordinated all other aspects of my scattered life to the singular intent to help and connect. Quickly, I discovered a diverse spectrum - from political damage-control to systemic social change to creative generosity to cross-cultural dialogue to simple eye contact and being.
In Pune I entered the matrix of NGOs (non-govt orgs) and social organizations that are really getting things done, run by passionate, intelligent people with big hearts and ideas. This was Sarah at Shelter Associates and Mira the Ashoka fellow.
At the same time I befriended and connected with Subash Thorat and his family. This showed me the richness of caring and helping, even if for just one family. I think the real gift I gave was some new hope, which Subash turned into a new job. The real gift I received was awe at the simplicity and goodness of this exchange.
On the bus with Subash, going to visit his house, I had an experience that I'll never forget. The novelty of our friendship wore off, and we sat silently. I had sat like this on dozens of busses before, surrounded by strangers - but this time it was an intimate act of being with someone else. We stopped trying, returned to our own internal worlds, stared out the window. But we let each other in, to show and see this raw banal truth. This happened again living in Mira' flat, and later sleeping on Sarah's couch. Combined with all the classical music I sat for, it taught me an important lesson. One of the greatest gifts we can give is the act of simply being, of exposing our selves. By keeping this in mind, despite being so transient I was able to share very personally with many people - Mira, Sarah, Subash in Pune, Gagan and Anjali in Mahabaleshwar, Santosh at Sadhana Village, Suraj in Darjeeling, the Ghoshals in Kolkata, etc.
****
I started realizing the importance of knowing yourself in order to be kind to others. The more I shared with people, the more I learned about myself in the process. So development of ourselves and development of compassionate connections go hand-in-hand. This is a continual co-evolution - the more we help, the more we learn about ourselves, the more able we are to help. At Sevagram I found this idea in Gandhi's philosophy and life; he believed all change must start with ourselves. Later, in Rishikesh, I saw this taken too far - people were too busy chasing personal goals of development to care about each other.
These ideas - that being sincere and vulnerable is being kind, and that by sharing we help each other grow - expanded the dimension of humility in my actions. I started to really offer myself, as I was; surrender to a situation, without expectations but with curiosity. By focusing on humility, I also overcame a major obstacle that had appeared: it takes a lot of courage and strength to go out day after day, not knowing what will happen but promising that you will meet it willingly. But I was doing the best I could, and it was all an experiment, after all. Thus I was able to teach drumming at Sadhana Village, teach math in Kolkata, and sit down with incredible musicians and humbly play with them as best I could.
So rather than wander around thinking, "How can I help?", I thought, "How can we help each other grow? What can we learn from each other?". I learned a lot. There are so many good ideas out there. At Sevagram and Gwalior I learned about sustainable living, ceramic refridgerators, and non-violence. In fact, sharing good ideas is a good idea itself. In Pune, Shelter Associates and Mira focus on networking organizations to share information. In Bodh Gaya, MAITRI focuses on preventing leperacy by educating the public. In Kalimpong, the DGAS visits villages to treat livestock and make suggestions like: grade the stable floor so the urine doesn't stagnate. The lesson: sharing information and telling stories are two of the most effective, versatile, and enjoyable ways of connecting. Rather than focusing on getting more technology, more money, and more people, we need to better use the technology, money, and people we already have. Rather than trying to hunt down and kill all our enemies (and quite a few sympathizers), we need to look at the stories we're telling the world. We need to contrast the stories of arrogant pre-emptive strike, prison abuse, and Janet Jackson's breasts, with other stories.
****
At Sadhana Village I discovered two complementary frameworks for understanding the beauty and meaning of the compassionate lifestyle.
First. The people at SV all had unlucky physical equipment, but underneath were all so sincere and sweet. While on the outside, Bappu never spoke and our communications were by wide-eyed stares and handshakes, on the inside this was a wise and gentle old man and we were able to connect and share something with each other. The folks at SV made apparent the difference between our physical forms and our psychological (or maybe even spiritual) forms. I came to feel that the result of caring for someone, and being cared for, was a unification. Our arbitrary human forms represent a broken symmetry, between you and me, and by making a kind connection we restore this symmetry and realize a unity. That's my interpretation of the feeling. I remember feeling this particularly strongly with the Gwalior Post Office boys, and with Suraj, Amar, and the mountains during our Himalayan trek.
Second. At Sadhana Village I helped out - which meant hanging around until I could help somehow, and doing it. This 'hanging around' was a magical state. I just waited quietly, with willingness and kindness, holding onto my desire to help, listening to my intuition and creativity. I conversed, played games, and walked around with people. They all did the same. Suddenly Kalpana would need help getting up the stairs, or Mohan would need help carrying the milk, or I would decide to make a tape for Amol. Then the symmetry would break, and I would become the 'helper' and them the 'helped'. Or someone else would give Kalpana and hand. Or I would need help with something. We existed as equals, as friends, as one 'family'. Spontaneously, something would happen, initiated by the unfolding of the present or the unfolding of our creative imagination; only then would we separate, to play roles in an exchange of concern/kindness. Afterwards we would return to our symmetric state of willing attention, with a positive feeling and sense of purpose. I experienced this strongly, albeit briefly, with the Gwalior Post Office boys. Although we were strangers, they acted as though we were already friends, just waiting for a chance to help each other. This was also the story of the Darjeeling trek, and with Santosh and Siddhi.
Thus there is an oscillation or our identities (both self-conception and social role), between symmetry and asymmetry, unity and separateness.
****
On the one hand this is very profound and abstract, but on the other it is very practical. It suggests a method for helping.
Don't try to help. Don't try to be friends. Approach everyone with humility and willingness, and quietly listen until an opportunity for expressing kindness emerges. Let innate creativity speak up. This is not easy - quieting myself so I can listen to the present. Developing this empty stillness and open willingness is an example of the earlier idea of developing one's self in order to better connect/help.
From Sadhana Village onwards, I used this method, and I think that was the secret to the HKE working out so naturally. Opportunities to help just seemed to effortlessly fall in my lap, and I took them up as they came. Everything unfolded before me, clearly and simply.
This self-reinforcing cycle continues. The more I help, the more I feel unified beyond myself, the easier it is to quietly listen for how to help and connect more. The Rishikesh post expresses this with good stories.
*****
In the end, my experiences suggest a different perception of reality. There is an underlying unity, more fundamental than this world or separate forms (Indians call it maya). We experience this unity through connecting, and a simple and meaninful way of connecting is by being kind and helping each other. Meaning is derived from honoring and exploring these connections.
This also suggests a different way of life - where everyday human interactions, the stories we tell each other, and our web of connections has utmost importance. Since development as a person and development of positive connections go together, the process of living is a co-evolution, and co-operation, with our surroundings. We must always raise each other up, because really we are each other. This is done simply by acting out of humility - by quietly being ourselves and listening with willingness and surrender.
****
What is the next step, for me? As I think about, and feel, the interdependence of everything, I'm turning towards the earth as a whole. I connect strongly to Nature, and my concern for the relationship between humanity and Nature is growing. In New Zealand I'll work on a few organic farms, and walk in the woods (and on beaches, in jungles, through Mordor...). I'll focus on acting humbly, and sharing stories.
One of my realizations during this HKE is that the cup exists to be filled and emptied. This process represents the curiosity and concern of the simple human act of kindness. It represents the oscillation between unity and separateness that is the human condition.
******
My trip started in Delhi, where for the first time I subordinated all other aspects of my scattered life to the singular intent to help and connect. Quickly, I discovered a diverse spectrum - from political damage-control to systemic social change to creative generosity to cross-cultural dialogue to simple eye contact and being.
In Pune I entered the matrix of NGOs (non-govt orgs) and social organizations that are really getting things done, run by passionate, intelligent people with big hearts and ideas. This was Sarah at Shelter Associates and Mira the Ashoka fellow.
At the same time I befriended and connected with Subash Thorat and his family. This showed me the richness of caring and helping, even if for just one family. I think the real gift I gave was some new hope, which Subash turned into a new job. The real gift I received was awe at the simplicity and goodness of this exchange.
On the bus with Subash, going to visit his house, I had an experience that I'll never forget. The novelty of our friendship wore off, and we sat silently. I had sat like this on dozens of busses before, surrounded by strangers - but this time it was an intimate act of being with someone else. We stopped trying, returned to our own internal worlds, stared out the window. But we let each other in, to show and see this raw banal truth. This happened again living in Mira' flat, and later sleeping on Sarah's couch. Combined with all the classical music I sat for, it taught me an important lesson. One of the greatest gifts we can give is the act of simply being, of exposing our selves. By keeping this in mind, despite being so transient I was able to share very personally with many people - Mira, Sarah, Subash in Pune, Gagan and Anjali in Mahabaleshwar, Santosh at Sadhana Village, Suraj in Darjeeling, the Ghoshals in Kolkata, etc.
****
I started realizing the importance of knowing yourself in order to be kind to others. The more I shared with people, the more I learned about myself in the process. So development of ourselves and development of compassionate connections go hand-in-hand. This is a continual co-evolution - the more we help, the more we learn about ourselves, the more able we are to help. At Sevagram I found this idea in Gandhi's philosophy and life; he believed all change must start with ourselves. Later, in Rishikesh, I saw this taken too far - people were too busy chasing personal goals of development to care about each other.
These ideas - that being sincere and vulnerable is being kind, and that by sharing we help each other grow - expanded the dimension of humility in my actions. I started to really offer myself, as I was; surrender to a situation, without expectations but with curiosity. By focusing on humility, I also overcame a major obstacle that had appeared: it takes a lot of courage and strength to go out day after day, not knowing what will happen but promising that you will meet it willingly. But I was doing the best I could, and it was all an experiment, after all. Thus I was able to teach drumming at Sadhana Village, teach math in Kolkata, and sit down with incredible musicians and humbly play with them as best I could.
So rather than wander around thinking, "How can I help?", I thought, "How can we help each other grow? What can we learn from each other?". I learned a lot. There are so many good ideas out there. At Sevagram and Gwalior I learned about sustainable living, ceramic refridgerators, and non-violence. In fact, sharing good ideas is a good idea itself. In Pune, Shelter Associates and Mira focus on networking organizations to share information. In Bodh Gaya, MAITRI focuses on preventing leperacy by educating the public. In Kalimpong, the DGAS visits villages to treat livestock and make suggestions like: grade the stable floor so the urine doesn't stagnate. The lesson: sharing information and telling stories are two of the most effective, versatile, and enjoyable ways of connecting. Rather than focusing on getting more technology, more money, and more people, we need to better use the technology, money, and people we already have. Rather than trying to hunt down and kill all our enemies (and quite a few sympathizers), we need to look at the stories we're telling the world. We need to contrast the stories of arrogant pre-emptive strike, prison abuse, and Janet Jackson's breasts, with other stories.
****
At Sadhana Village I discovered two complementary frameworks for understanding the beauty and meaning of the compassionate lifestyle.
First. The people at SV all had unlucky physical equipment, but underneath were all so sincere and sweet. While on the outside, Bappu never spoke and our communications were by wide-eyed stares and handshakes, on the inside this was a wise and gentle old man and we were able to connect and share something with each other. The folks at SV made apparent the difference between our physical forms and our psychological (or maybe even spiritual) forms. I came to feel that the result of caring for someone, and being cared for, was a unification. Our arbitrary human forms represent a broken symmetry, between you and me, and by making a kind connection we restore this symmetry and realize a unity. That's my interpretation of the feeling. I remember feeling this particularly strongly with the Gwalior Post Office boys, and with Suraj, Amar, and the mountains during our Himalayan trek.
Second. At Sadhana Village I helped out - which meant hanging around until I could help somehow, and doing it. This 'hanging around' was a magical state. I just waited quietly, with willingness and kindness, holding onto my desire to help, listening to my intuition and creativity. I conversed, played games, and walked around with people. They all did the same. Suddenly Kalpana would need help getting up the stairs, or Mohan would need help carrying the milk, or I would decide to make a tape for Amol. Then the symmetry would break, and I would become the 'helper' and them the 'helped'. Or someone else would give Kalpana and hand. Or I would need help with something. We existed as equals, as friends, as one 'family'. Spontaneously, something would happen, initiated by the unfolding of the present or the unfolding of our creative imagination; only then would we separate, to play roles in an exchange of concern/kindness. Afterwards we would return to our symmetric state of willing attention, with a positive feeling and sense of purpose. I experienced this strongly, albeit briefly, with the Gwalior Post Office boys. Although we were strangers, they acted as though we were already friends, just waiting for a chance to help each other. This was also the story of the Darjeeling trek, and with Santosh and Siddhi.
Thus there is an oscillation or our identities (both self-conception and social role), between symmetry and asymmetry, unity and separateness.
****
On the one hand this is very profound and abstract, but on the other it is very practical. It suggests a method for helping.
Don't try to help. Don't try to be friends. Approach everyone with humility and willingness, and quietly listen until an opportunity for expressing kindness emerges. Let innate creativity speak up. This is not easy - quieting myself so I can listen to the present. Developing this empty stillness and open willingness is an example of the earlier idea of developing one's self in order to better connect/help.
From Sadhana Village onwards, I used this method, and I think that was the secret to the HKE working out so naturally. Opportunities to help just seemed to effortlessly fall in my lap, and I took them up as they came. Everything unfolded before me, clearly and simply.
This self-reinforcing cycle continues. The more I help, the more I feel unified beyond myself, the easier it is to quietly listen for how to help and connect more. The Rishikesh post expresses this with good stories.
*****
In the end, my experiences suggest a different perception of reality. There is an underlying unity, more fundamental than this world or separate forms (Indians call it maya). We experience this unity through connecting, and a simple and meaninful way of connecting is by being kind and helping each other. Meaning is derived from honoring and exploring these connections.
This also suggests a different way of life - where everyday human interactions, the stories we tell each other, and our web of connections has utmost importance. Since development as a person and development of positive connections go together, the process of living is a co-evolution, and co-operation, with our surroundings. We must always raise each other up, because really we are each other. This is done simply by acting out of humility - by quietly being ourselves and listening with willingness and surrender.
****
What is the next step, for me? As I think about, and feel, the interdependence of everything, I'm turning towards the earth as a whole. I connect strongly to Nature, and my concern for the relationship between humanity and Nature is growing. In New Zealand I'll work on a few organic farms, and walk in the woods (and on beaches, in jungles, through Mordor...). I'll focus on acting humbly, and sharing stories.
posted by Luke Wolcott at 11:24 PM
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