If I'm really God, do I have the Buddha Nature?
Sometimes I get so alone that I think "Is there anything I do that's really worthwhile?" Why do I allow myself to experience the depths of utter dispair that I often feel? And have I even begun to start on whatever it is I was put on Earth to do? (like I'm some sort of transplanted alien with something important to share to the world lol)
The truth is, I haven't been the happiest person in the world lately. I try to cover all that up by working harder on projects, distracting myself with an abundance of things unrelated what I probably ought to be doing. Like not taking so many things personally. Relaxing a bit and spending less time in front of the computer. Spending more time with family and friends. But still I persist in doing the very things that make me feel lousy. Because it's easier to retreat.
The Dalai Lama says that happiness is the ultimate goal in life. What he doesn't say is whether it's an attainable goal. Or did I just read too fast over that sentence?
And what about friends? Yes, I'm married, so I have one dear friend for life (or at least for as long as I am tolerable). I wonder if I'm even worthy of that much, as frustrated and frustrating as I have been the past year or so. My boss once said to me "You're lucky if you end up with two or three true friends in your lifetime." And I'm beginning to believe her, simply because I really don't have any other consistent people in my life. Sure, I have my parents, in-laws, sibling. And sure, there are a few people that I truly, dearly want to spend more time with. But lately nobody really has time, myself included, or situations are just complex and scheduling is difficult.
Then there's the whole issue of getting angry at people and feeling betrayed just when you think you've got a friend. This has happened to me twice in the past several months, and I'm beginning to see a pattern: me. Perhaps I expect too much from other people? Maybe a certain level of respect and common courtesy? But these are high standards to live up to, I suppose, and I've had trouble with them in the past.
I've never really been good at having long-term friends. All through my childhood, we moved so much that I never made solid friendships. Now that I'm older, and supposedly wiser, I'm beginning to think that maybe the whole thing is overrated. Perhaps I should be content with my lot in life and let go of the idea? Call me a hedonist, but I think there's more to life than that.
Perhaps some of my current state has to do with decisions I made long ago? One in particular involved my friend Mark and the rather shameless way I rewarded his friendship to me. I hear the mantra "Regret Nothing," yet I have been as callous as the worst of them, thus making this very bold and elitist phrase seem farciful and utterly unattainable. There are other friends that have diverged from my path in life, and perhaps the time will come when the paths will intersect again? But in the meantime, I've got my uptime, my down time, and all the soul-filled moments in between. Hopefully, I will take advantage of all the time I have on this planet to achieve whatever it is I'm here to do.
And hopefully I can cleanse myself of the need to search for purpose in the first place. It's really more of a Zen koan, I suppose, to define one's purpose in life. Ultimately unanswerable. So why do we do it? I must say, however, that each Koan does have an answer, albeit usually an unexpected one.
The sound of one hand clapping, for instance, is basically a palm-heel punch into the space before you. The 'one hand' is the combination of your illusory 'avatar' hand and the universe in and around you. This sound is unique to everyone, I suppose. I wonder how Jesus would have answered that very same Koan?
Ramble ramble ramble.
posted by novachild @ Monday, September 20, 2004,
