Alan Roettinger

The True Nature of Devotion

2011-10-12T07:44:00.000-06:00

At Zero

2011-08-15T11:57:00.000-06:00

Unexpectedly, so gently,

in this heaving chest of mine

afflictions all have lost their grip

and I have fallen, free as mist.

Through the prison bars to safety,

with subtle ease I have been lifted;

I sense that old familiar kindness

enfolding me in within its warmth.

Unaccountably, I find myself

immersed within the deepest well,

rocking in exquisite stillness

like a baby in the womb.

My thoughts and cares are shed like skins

as all resistance falls away

and disconnected from it all,

I feel untouchable.

In and out, my every breath

becomes a motionless unburdening,

while in this stunning, utter silence

the clarion of unsullied joy resounds.

2011-06-30T07:16:00.002-06:00

Belief is

the wall of separation

between church and reality.

The Truth About Heaven

2011-06-16T07:07:00.000-06:00

Sitting still this morning, leaving my thoughts alone, following the river of my breath to the place within where that beautiful shining peace reigns supreme, it became obvious:

Heaven is not someplace to go.

Heaven is what remains

when everything else is gone.

2011-06-14T06:48:00.000-06:00

War and Peace

What an inappropriate pairing.

As with disease and health, they sound like opposites, but

one is a result of something, and the other is a state of being.

Like darkness and light, the two have no knowledge of one another—no real relationship. War happens when human beings are too ignorant to coexist peacefully; they’re at war with themselves, and have only unrest to express. Oddly, war arises from a lack of peace, but peace does not arise
from a lack of war. It’s totally independent.

Peace is in a category all by itself.

~ From "Wise Cracks"

The Breath-Bliss Connection

2011-06-12T10:02:00.002-06:00

Sometimes this happens spontaneously.

Sometimes a little effort is needed.

Sometimes it seems impossible.

Always, even if it takes sitting still a long time, I find my way to freedom.

Clash of the Titans

2011-06-11T11:57:00.001-06:00

God is great. Sex is great.

Both sayings may be true—even profound—but when spoken, they carry unequal degrees of fervor, as well as in meaning of the word “great.”

In Arabic alone, possibly a billion human beings utter the first saying at least once a day, if not five or more. Including all languages, the number may be much greater than that. God knows how many utter the second, or at least think it to themselves.

Interesting, is it not, that almost everyone in the world above the age of puberty agrees on the second, while great arguments ensue constantly over first? I would venture to say that this is because, owing to direct experience versus allegiance to a belief, those who utter the second have a clear understanding of what they’re referring to, unlike those who utter the first.

As far as I know, no one has ever exclaimed the second as a rallying cry in support of belligerent activity, or in triumphant celebration of a public execution by hanging, stoning or beheading. No one uses the second in connection with attitudes of hatred, bigotry, misogyny, homophobia or xenophobia.

How very odd, that so much guilt and shame surrounds the very natural activity that we all generally agree is great and worth pursuing—indeed is crucial to the survival of our species—while there is so much reverence and praise associated with something people know virtually nothing about, yet are willing to kill and die for.

Thirst

2011-06-10T09:38:00.000-06:00

I remember reading a scholarly discussion of the "sermon on the mount" back in the mid-seventies, which made reference to the words in Aramaic that Jesus would have used. The New Testament people read today has been so—to put it mildly—drastically altered, that most of his original meaning and intent have been lost. Even the word "prayer," which would seem pretty fundamental, is no longer used as Jesus used it (according to that scholar of Aramaic, whose name, sadly, I have forgotten).

He explained that the Aramaic word Jesus used for prayer, "zlotha," meant "to cast one's net." The intent there had nothing in common with the pleading associated with religious notions of prayer. Rather, it indicated setting an intention of openness, an inner stillness, in order to commune with the divine. It was not about asking for something—least of all the outcome of an illness, war, or sporting event—but about becoming receptive to what is already present.

I’m not religious, so why is any of this important, let alone interesting to me? There is something universal that drives all human beings, a profound and powerful thirst.

Religion—in its purest form—is an external effort to give that thirst expression. I see an underlying flaw with the religious approach, however: what we thirst for is not external, but internal. We can talk about the object of that thirst, imagine a little about what it might be, perhaps agree on an abritrary definition of it, even sign hymns in praise of it, but unless the thirst itself is addressed, unvarnished and unmitigated, none of these activities bring us even close to quenching it.

Belief is at best unhelpful, because it is, in effect, a patch that covers the gap of ignorance, an artificial replacement for actual knowing. It's like a wall that separates a person from the discomfort of not knowing—an anesthetic whose sole function is to dull the craving we have to finally know the “Truth.” The one that sets you free. Ultimately, belief is the cruelest kind of thief, because it makes us think we have found what we’ve been looking for. It lets us assume we can relax and call off the search. But it doesn’t really work, because belief is not the authentic peace of knowing; it’s only a pacifier that temporarily deafens us to the cry of the heart. And we have so little time to find what we genuinely yearn for.

Thirst is my best friend. It's far too real to be institutionalized, made into a slogan, or reduced to a belief system. I’ve come to understand that I must never ignore it, cover it up, or misplace it. I need to fully acknowledge it and admire it as the wonderful ally it is. Most of all, I need to implicitly trust and follow it, wherever it wants me to go. It’s not foreign; it’s the longing of my own heart. It's beautiful, a sublime emptiness that absolutely must be fulfilled. Without it, I would be truly lost. Again and again, it has taken me to that stillness within where peace reveals itself to be both still and dynamic, pulsing with pure joy.

Permanence / Impermanence

2011-06-09T08:29:00.001-06:00

Sobering, is it not, when you stop for a moment and realize the impermanence of all things. We won't—I hope—see it in our lifetime, but the sun itself is slowly burning out; just yesterday, I watched a video clip of a massive explosion on the sun's surface. I've read that scientists expect its final gasp will be a flare of such magnitude that it will consume the entire solar system. Everything on earth will turn to ash, return to dust. All the monuments to greatness, all the collections of human accomplishment, all of our silly, petty arguments, struggles, and perceived distinctions, even the memory of our existence will one day be gone without a trace.

The mere recognition of this fact is powerful: it has the potential to shake us loose from our preoccupations. It might enable us to stop for a change, and enjoy the fabulous beauty of each moment—each breath—as the perfect divine blessing that it is.

The meaning of life, the inherent purpose, the fulfillment of life itself is not in any of our achievements or possessions, or even our relationships. It is in one simple miracle, in fact the only miracle that matters: Life, the recurring gift of our breath. Utterly unlikely, implausible, even impossible, yet impeccably constant, as long as we live. The immortal, ensconced and living in the mortal. The source of love, and joy, and wisdom, and our ability to perceive beauty—to appreciate it, be moved by it, and feel grateful. The one indestructible supreme existence that can never be lost, inside each living creature. And only human beings are capable of discovering this, understanding this, directly experiencing this.

How lucky does that make us?

2011-06-08T07:38:00.001-06:00

Shortly after 9/11, I was wondering what I might say to Osama bin Laden if I somehow got a chance to reason with him. Surely every human being has a point of kinship with every other human being, so what could I say, briefly, to connect? This is what I came up with. I had a dream a couple of weeks ago, in which I met the young Osama (before he became the man who would justify murder in religious terms), and spoke these words to him--sort of a dream come true, in a dream. We then had a discussion which I no longer recall, but I do remember that he understood what I was saying. The human heart is like that. Especially now that he's dead, it's much less a bit of advice for him than an excellent note to myself.

2011-06-07T16:44:00.000-06:00

even on my worst days

body a mass of aches

mind a thicket of worry

my way impossible to see

still inside I’ve got

this urgent bursting urge

to elevate and leap and

flee it all and fly and

be myself

the self I really am

and yes beyond a doubt

when I can only stop

just feel it calling

let it seize me up

wow

I’m so gone

a world away

from good days

and bad days

2011-06-04T09:54:00.000-06:00

We humans have a powerful tendency to remain ignorant of reality unless something dramatic happens that shakes us. Even then, our vision tends to be short-lived. The only antidote to this condition is to persist in trying to wake up, stay awake, and see what we’ve been missing. In this struggle for consciousness, it's not so much what we've missed that matters; it's the recognition that we've been asleep without realizing it.

Prayer of the Heart

2011-03-13T10:58:00.000-06:00

I hadn't really looked at this poem for a while. I wrote it at least 15 years ago, but it still feels fresh, probably because the desire to melt into bliss is always with me--bubbling like a subterranean spring, just waiting for me to notice its omnipresence.

It's Sunday; no pressing obligations; a perfect day to take a couple of hours, sit still and let go to the subtle power of life. Off I go. Banzai.

Source of my longing,

bring me to the vastness within me

where all the world becomes unmade,

where only you and I exist,

and let me melt into the motion of your love

‘til there is only you

and I am gone.

Why Believing Isn't Good Enough

2011-03-08T09:27:00.002-07:00

There is a gargantuan difference between theorizing and believing. They are two distinct approaches to the problem of not knowing. It's one thing to look at a conundrum, employ some logic and deductive reasoning to come up with a few ideas that might solve it--or at least keep the conversation going until it can be solved. It's wholly another to project an idea onto the unexplained, allowing a plausible assumption to emerge, for the sole purpose of soothing the discomfort of ignorance. The two have one thing in common, which is that neither have actually solved the puzzle--neither have the answer--but their responses to this unsettling fact are diametrically opposed.

You may be thinking that I'm about to slam religion and praise science, but this isn't about that. Plenty of people have written in favor of one or the other, but following the argument is like watching a tennis match with no satisfactory conclusion. My point is that as long as something remains unexplained (or unsatisfactorily explained away), honesty requires that we either keep looking, or at the very least admit that we just don't know. Not that we can't know, or will never know, mind you--that's an unfounded belief--simply that we don't know yet.

Inserting a speculative explanation into a discussion can be helpful if it spurs investigative thinking and experimentation. It becomes unhelpful when that speculative explanation allows some arbitrary conclusion to be drawn, effectively ending the conversation. A theory isn't an answer; it's merely a platform for exploratory thinking--one possible idea that can be tested. It's an open-ended approach that allows for the possibility of eventually knowing. Substituting a belief for knowledge--especially characterizing the very act of this substitution as some sort of virtue--is placing a false answer athwart the path to discovery. The insidious aspect of belief is not that it gives the intellectually lazy a way out (it does, although they would surely find one on their own), but that it ensnares budding seekers with dazzling explanations that delay or even derail their search.

Consider the word "supernatural." What it implies is a hierarchy, with the "natural" world consisting of the environment we live in and all we know about it, and another world about which we know absolutely nothing, but which we assume is above the natural one, with the power to influence our outcomes. If we're genuinely interested in understanding what's going on, we need to keep what we know and what we don't know separate, and not allow the gap between them to be artificially filled in. What exists is natural, even if we lack the means to comprehend certain aspects of it (like how it came to be, or how it works, for example). There is no supernatural, because that implies that for some unknown reason it really shouldn't be possible for it to exist, but it does anyway, mysteriously, magically! Hey, either something exists or it doesn't; whether we're able to grasp the particulars or not is pretty much irrelevant.

I'm not saying existence isn't miraculous--it certainly is--I'm saying that we don't need to cram existence into a belief system in order for it to be miraculous. I know it's scary not to have everything neatly tucked away in cataloged compartments, but to me it's even scarier to have reality locked behind a wall of denial--which is essentially what belief is. Eventually that wall will fail.

Think about where the need for a belief comes from. We are inherently curious. There is in us a profound thirst to know. Like any thirst, it increases if it isn't satisfied, until it becomes intolerable. Not knowing becomes insufferable for us, not because we can never know, but precisely because we can. We've evolved to a point where we have a primal need to understand who we are and why we're here. It's our nature to seek the means to understand--not theoretically, but practically. It's also in our nature to know who we are and to accomplish our purpose in being alive. We have this capability.

If we want to go about our life responsibly--that is, taking responsibility for the gift of existence and using it to its fullest potential--we need to transcend the reliance on beliefs. It will all be over sooner than we think, and only what we know really matters. Belief is a substitute for knowledge, an anesthetic to dull the edge of uncertainty, and a pathetically inadequate one at that. Truth is self-evident; belief needs constant promotion.

All of our thirsts have an evolutionary purpose. They aren't some kind of cruel punishment, rather they are a built-in insurance against failure. We thirst for water because without it we would dry up and die. We thirst for knowledge because without it our consciousness has no place to go, no resting place. Covering that thirst with a belief is like handing someone an empty glass and telling them to drink. They may try, and they may even get good at fooling themselves into thinking it satisfies, but in their heart they know they're still thirsty. The only responsible way to deal with thirst is to find the way to quench it.

Peace of Mind?

2011-03-03T10:46:00.000-07:00

How often have we heard or read the words, "peace of mind?"

Now, I know what that's supposed to mean, but frankly, the expression itself is a misnomer of the most misleading sort. The mind could never be a platform for experiencing peace.

Mind itself is a struggle--a desperate attempt to process the torrent of data that constantly roars into us from the outside, to comprehend the meaning and implications of it all, to grasp reality and somehow control it. And it does a fair job of all that, considering that (for most of us) it manages to keep from coming unglued, even after many years of nonstop work. It's the only tool we have for accomplishing these heady tasks. We rely on our mind to safely negotiate the confusing warren of stimuli and relationships that we wander (even blunder) through night and day. But do we really expect this light-speed whirling, often deviously conniving calculator to ever be in peace?

The mind is what creates the turmoil from which everyone--consciously or unconsciously--hopes to find relief. Think about it. It's the mind that comes up with clever strategies for finding peace, most if not all of which not only fall short, but actually add to the maelstrom of conflicting information and disjointed images that fuel the ceaseless chatter in our heads. Mind generates unfounded doubt, fear, guilt, shame, prejudice, self-righteousness, and even insanity itself.

It's not peace of mind we crave; it's peace from mind.

Avoiding "-isms"

2011-02-17T07:53:00.001-07:00

Someone asked me recently if I was a Buddhist. I'm not sure what prompted that, but the answer rolled right off my tongue. "Oh, hell no! I don't want to be a Buddhist; I want what Buddha had!" Which reminded me of this poem I wrote several years back:

Noism

Christ was not a Christian.

Buddha was no Buddhist.

You think Krishna was a Hindu?

And Socrates and Lao-Tse

Ram, Kabir and Zoroaster...

Even Moses, having seen the burning bush:

What -ism were they into?

2011-02-11T08:58:00.000-07:00

It’s only the body that ages;

the heart

(or soul, or whatever you call it)

remains the same

all the way through.

With this in mind, wouldn’t it be a good idea to focus on

the tenant, rather than on the deteriorating real estate?

~ from my most recent book, "Wise Cracks"

Sometimes I need To Remind Myself...

2011-02-10T09:18:00.002-07:00


I wrote this shortly after 9/11 when I was wondering what I would say to Osama if I ever got the chance. Like anything genuinely profound, it's a message to myself (or yourself, if you're willing). I took the photo in the woods near my house--a rickety log bridge to an abandoned cabin.

Obvious, but not as easy as it sounds...

2011-01-24T12:59:00.000-07:00

If it’s true that “you are the company you keep,” which makes a lot of sense to me, then I should carefully avoid angry, argumentative, abusive, lamenting, or depressed people. I should gravitate to conscious, kind, grateful, happy, caring people who understand the purpose of life and want to accomplish it every day. At the very least, I should seek out a hybrid of these traits, with a strong majority in the second category.

Giving the Devil His Due

2010-12-27T13:00:00.001-07:00

A Mexican Devil ornament on my tree

At my house, I've instituted a sort of tradition to initiate the Christmas dinner. In deference to the mix of secular and religious people at the table, I propose a toast, in lieu of the more traditional practice some might expect of "saying grace." One year, I toasted "kindness," which I prefaced by explaining that Christmas and all its peculiar peripherals are all about kindness--giving gifts, the notion of a savior, charity, taking time out from petty rivalries, executive pardons, and ceasefires during wartime. The toast is my way of expressing my feeling of gratitude, which I do by acknowledging common values without getting into any argumentative zones. So far, all parties have been satisfied.

A couple of years ago, I raised my glass to the Devil. Seeing the initial reaction of my guests (especially my Christian guests), I went on to say that without something that bedevils us, an implacable enemy who actively seeks our ruin, what need would we have--indeed what appreciation could we be expected to have--for a savior? The entire holiday, you might say, is essentially enabled and facilitated by the mythical bad guy, and we have him to thank for the celebration of Christmas. I like stretching the envelope a little.

It sounds weird, I know, unless you consider that it would be even less appropriate to link Jesus with the commercialism, the vast sum of money that changes hands, the overeating and drunkenness, the artificial friendliness, the stress, alienation and depression that year after year accompany the whole garish pagan display. Jolly good fun and all, but...Jesus? In all that?

The birth of Christ may have coincided with the winter solstice, and people may celebrate his birth around this time, but the holidays as we know them are pretty much the work of the Devil. Not that I'm complaining, you understand...

WISDOM IS THE INNATE INTELLIGENCE OF THE HUMAN HEART

2010-12-16T13:24:00.000-07:00

We all have it in us. Our innate wisdom is the invaluable faculty that makes it possible for us to recognize another person’s words or actions as wise (or unwise). How else would we know?

Because whatever information we receive from the outside enters and is processed by the mind, we have a tendency to think that the mind is the seat of wisdom, and to assume that those who are learned are also wise, but this is not the case. Wisdom is not in the mind, but in the heart. Not to be confused with logic, wisdom has nothing to do with figuring things out and coming up with the right answer to questions. It's a feeling—a gratifying stillness that tells us when we know the truth, or when we've found the right answer. This feeling (or lack of it) is how we know that what we're about to do is right (or wrong), or that something is true (or untrue). It's like a "moral compass" that's not based on a set of morals.

While being learned and being wise are not mutually exclusive by any means, they are also not automatically connected. Even the illiterate can be wise, and even the learned can be foolish. It’s a question of trusting the heart to be our guide, and placing personal experience before logic. It’s also a matter of paying attention to what happens in life, and choosing that which consistently serves us well, and fosters the accomplishment of our ultimate goal.

Often I find that wisdom is associated with the study of philosophy, or assumed to be the natural result of aging, or worse—presumed to be of no practical value in daily affairs. None of this is accurate (or wise), and here’s why:

1. Studying the supposed wisdom of others in no way guarantees that we will ourselves become wise (any more than reading a story about someone winning the lottery will make you rich).

2. Age is no ticket to wisdom (there are at least as many old fools as old wise people).

3. Nothing could be more important in our daily activities than acting wisely (think how screwed up things get when we act unwisely).

If we hope to be at all successful in life (and I mean the real bottom line, not the financial one), we must become attuned to the inherent wisdom within us. Our wisdom, not merely someone else’s. It’s the only reliable navigational tool we have for finding our way effectively. Without connecting to our own wisdom, we have no guarantee that we’ll find what we came into this world to get—let alone keep it long enough to take it with us when we leave. A "wise person" is simply one who consistently and uncompromisingly follows the heart.

The observations in my new book, Wise Cracks, are the result of one human being’s attempt to live consciously and passionately, to require satisfactory answers, and to accept no compromise. Whether or not any of my remarks contain wisdom is of course for the reader to determine. Only that which resonates with our own experience will be of any lasting value; the rest is mere entertainment. Good entertainment, I hope, but I’m shooting higher than that.

You have no idea how long it's taken me to get going with this. I've been procrastinating, because being the perfectionist I am, I couldn't decide how to proprely launch. So I think I'll just go back to the very beginning, with my own version of the creation myth:

2010-12-12T13:38:00.003-07:00

In the beginning, there was light. Only light. Uncreated, limitless self-effulgent light. Within the light was silence. Within the silence was the potential of all sound, in absolute harmony. Within the harmony was stillness. Within the stillness was the essence of all movement, in perfect rhythm. Within the rhythm was pure consciousness. Within the consciousness there was untainted supreme bliss.

This was the only existence; all-pervasive, undivided, uncaused, without borders, with no beginning, no middle and no end. This was the oneness of reality: truth, undefined by falsehood; love, independent of hate; joy unrelated to sorrow; one eternal being without a second.

And then the uncreated being began to create. From its uncontested will, came forth an illusion. The light withdrew from the infinite space it occupied, like a vast breathing in of unimaginable proportions. Curling inward upon itself, the light with all its attributes retreated, leaving in its place an utter darkness, the absence of light, void of all presence. The compression of all existence at last reached a critical point, where for the briefest possible moment, the light had disappeared altogether. Darkness appeared to reign supreme.

Suddenly, in a brilliant, explosive exhalation, the movement reversed. Bursting forth into the darkness, that which had been one being became fragments of matter, hurling out in all directions, scattering throughout the void. In this instant, with this simple movement, this breathing in and breathing out, a pair of opposites came into being. There was darkness and there was light. There was heat and cold. The energy, once a singular wholeness, now appeared as opposing forces, positive and negative. The effect of this division was to put in play an unstoppable process of creation, increasingly complex in nature, revolving about an exquisite marriage of opposites in endless attraction; of chaos and order, seemingly random, yet imbued with purpose. Elements came into being, in turn forming compounds. Interactions became immutable physical laws. Gases burned, solids collided. Nature had begun, following the impulse of that supreme intelligence which was its source. The universe was born.

Okay. I feel better now.