Coherence and the freedom of non-blame


Let me tell you a story inspired by a Chinese Taoist sage Zhuangzi.

Imagine sitting in a small boat in a calm ocean bay and simply enjoying yourself while feeling the cool breeze under the warm sun. Then suddenly he notices another ship approaching. It’s clear where you’re from that the driver can see you, so you can relax, confident that this person will easily avoid running into your boat. But as it approaches, it doesn’t seem to have any intention of changing direction and is coming right at you. You start jumping and screaming, but to no avail. It keeps coming as if you’re not even there, leaving you with no choice but to jump into the water before it hits your boat, which miraculously remains unscathed.

You stick your head out of the water, consumed by anger, and shout, “How could you be so stupid? You think the ocean is yours? I hope you crash and sink a thousand times, jerk!”

But as you open your eyes, you realize that no one was behind the wheel. It was a drifting ship and you can’t help but feel a little silly and laugh at the whole situation.*

This story may seem simple, yet it offers a surprisingly deep expression of interconnectedness and the emptiness of the self.

When we look at the actions of other beings, it appears to us that they are independent agents acting of their own will and will, completely separate selves that exist by themselves. But really?

The drifting boat exists and works according to the various causes and conditions of the environment: the tide, the waves, the breeze. These conditions affect its various mechanisms, which in turn cause movement. If we do not notice that there is no one behind the wheel, especially in calm conditions, we can easily assume the existence of the driver and attribute all movements to him. And yet the interaction of many elements moves the ship.

We tend to look at the world in a very simplistic way, and without question, we completely believe in our automatic perception. We are profoundly myopic and have no idea that we are.

Another common example is waves and the ocean. Can we tell where a wave ends and the ocean begins?

Not really, but we make up an artificial boundary, agree on it, then forget we made it up and end up believing a separation that wasn’t really there. Looking at the divide, it might seem like the waves are acting independently of each other, but it doesn’t take much to realize that’s not the case. On closer inspection, it is clear that an incredibly complex process is taking place, of which we only know on the surface. If we look deeper, we can see that the whole ocean is behind every wave, behind every wave there is the whole ocean.

When we interact with other people, we are only aware of a fraction of what is actually happening. The actions and words that unfold from them depend on countless factors that we cannot see: the culture they grew up in, the treatment they received from their parents, access to education, even whether they argued with their spouse or skipped breakfast that morning! If we trace this interconnectedness all the way back, we end up with nothing less than the beginning of the universe itself – extraordinary as it may seem. But our judgments usually stem from our own myopic perception and conditioned view of life.

The judgments we make usually stem from our own myopic perception and conditioned view of life.

Other people are not merely autonomous agents; they are like the waves in the ocean, which arise due to innumerable causes and circumstances. They are expressions of interconnectedness and are therefore devoid of any independent, separate self-nature.

Now, this understanding is not meant to make our interactions incredibly complicated, as we can never know all the factors involved. Rather, it calls us to let go of our automatic, conditioned responses and open ourselves to the mystery of what Zen calls.not knowing.”

The problem is that when we truly open up, we begin to experience the immensity and inscrutability of reality, and we often cling to our narrow judgments rather than remain in such vastness and mystery.

Our narrow judgment can very quickly put others into small boxes. “Oh, this person is so ________.” After a minute of interaction, we have already decided that we completely “know” this person. But when we look at the interconnectedness and emptiness of the self, the person is no longer just an isolated, easily defined entity. They are like a wave in the ocean, a unique expression of the interconnectedness of the entire universe unfolding before our eyes.

And if we turn this view towards ourselves, we can realize that we are also unique expressions of this interconnectedness. Then the whole situation changes, from isolated individuals bumping into each other like solid rocks to flowing waves dancing together in the vast ocean of existence.

I must say, however, that from the perspective of our sense of separate self (sometimes called ego), there is something very disappointing about this wisdom perspective: it robs the ego of its subtle, luscious feeling. . . blamed. The comforting relief that comes when the ego believes it has finally found the cause of the problem, freed from uncertainty and freed from all responsibility so that it can say, “It’s your fault!” Ahhh. . . what a good feeling.

I must also say that this is a completely natural human reaction. We learn from everyone around us, and this at least temporarily satisfies our desire to get away from what makes us uncomfortable and find a quick fix. Yet it turned out that we pay a high price for it. Without realizing it, we exchange artificial comforts for the realization of our true nature.

When we blame not only others but ourselves, we take an inaccurate view of separation as the truth. Just like the ship story, we assume a separate entity is responsible when there isn’t. If we want to blame someone, we have to blame the whole ocean; we have the whole universe to blame.

Needless to say, this view also threatens our ego in the opposite direction. Just as we cannot fully blame others, or even ourselves, we cannot fully take credit for our achievements either. If we look deeply, we will see that these are also the results of the entire connected universe.

Just as we cannot fully blame others, or even ourselves, we cannot fully take credit for our achievements either. If we look deeply, we will see that these are also the results of the entire connected universe.

This view is not intended to curb our power or absolve us of any sense of responsibility, leaving everything “up to the universe.” Even after realizing absolute perspective, we must navigate a conventional world populated by seemingly separate beings. The difference is that we now see that there is much more to life than the view of division, and that we can access the limitlessness of the universe here and now. We can then allow this view to grow within us and support us to act for the benefit of all beings, knowing now that their essence and ours are the same: waves of emptiness in the vast ocean of being.

Perhaps the time will come when this view is no longer limited to a few awakened individuals, but becomes the dominant view of our society. Then perhaps we will treat those who do wrong with less punishment and more understanding, recognizing that it is not entirely their fault. And those in a privileged position can share more, realizing that everyone has contributed to this – an enlightened society based on a view of interconnectedness and filled with the natural wisdom and compassion that comes from it.

*This is a variation of the story “The Empty Boat” by Zhuangzi. Burton Watson, The Complete Works of ZhuangziColumbia University Press, Chapter 20, “The Mountain Tree.”



Source link

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *