You Either Fall Into It or You Fall Out of It

I grew up in a small town in Michigan. The title of this blog refers to the racism of small towns. In my case I fell out of it, which means I despise the racist tendencies that I was exposed to in my youth. But this blog is not about racism.

This is my friend Deanna:

I have known her for about twenty years and she is very dear to me. Although she seems not to like me too much at the moment of this picture. The photo was taken in Portland this weekend at the Saturday Market. The sign said “Chicago Style Hot Dogs,” the sign lied. Deanna and I met in Chicago all those many years ago. But this blog isn’t about Deanna, either.

I have not gotten out of my community much in the last few years. A trip here and there on very specific missions to do some chore or to pick up some object but not to just get away. My community is a small rural city in the middle of the conservative working class nation. Do not get me wrong, I have nothing against working class folks, my entire family was made up of such folks. But this was the culture that I strived (and succeeded) to fall out of. I have of late been falling back in and it has set up a dissonance of mind that has caused me mental discomfort. I was beginning to not like myself very much.

This last weekend was about getting away. My weekend was wonderful. It reminded me of some things. Some things that I had forgotten about myself. Deanna and John (her significant other, a great guy by the way) played a very big part of that reminding. It also emphasized my need to focus on being the change that I wish to see in the world (thanks Gandhi). And to get out of this community more often to be reminded that the world is a big diverse place with a lot of wonderfully forward thinkers in it.

And that I need to mold myself and not let the community in which I live (or anyone else for that matter) mold my world view.

Thanks Dee. I love you, sweetie.

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Life is but a Dream...

I have heard Buddhist teachers say that you should view your life as if it were a dream. This advise seemed terrible simple and trivial to me at first. But recently I have begun the realization process which strengthens my understanding of projection which helps me understand the depth of what those teachers mean.

What are dreams? They are pure projections of the mind. We see them as less substantial than the projections we have while walking around awake but everyone knows that a dream can have significant effect on our emotional and physical state in the moment of the dream. But when we wake we shrug and laugh at the foolishness because after all it was only a dream, it was not real.

But if our mind projects meaning onto the world around us as we walk around in it, is this also not a form of dream? If what we are perceiving is simply what our mind is creating for us to perceive, how is that not a dream?

Clearly reality is subjective.

As an example to illustrate this subjectivity a teacher once told us to imagine an office with three workers in it. While working one day the boss came in and criticized one of the worker’s, call him Joe, report. Joe perceived this as a belittlement and he became depressed for the rest of the day. The second worker, call him Ted, hated Joe and so the event brought him pleasure and he was happy the rest of the day. The third worker, call him Bill, was indifferent to Joe but was annoyed by the interruption.

How can one event have three meanings. Clearly the event itself had no real meaning other than the meaning given to it by the observers. The meaning that each individual projected onto the event says more about the individuals than about the event. They all had a different “dream” in that moment.

The point is to not deny your feelings and emotions as a part of a dream but rather to recognize that you are projecting meaning and to not become obsessed with the dream. See what you see, feel what you feel, experience what you experience, but do not take it too seriously because it is all a projection of your mind. It is all a dream.