I have always loved the seemingly paradoxical statements we hear when Buddhists describe their truths. And it is with all fervor that I share one with you.
The path to Enlightenment, leads away from enlightenment.
Allow me to explain. One mistake I have made countless times in my search for ultimate spiritual peace, is to take my understanding of what constitutes enlightenment and try to emulate these constitutions in my own behavior. Things like wisdom, no stress, no conflict, etc. The problem is, the best I can do is “fake it till I make it”, but that’s not how enlightenment works.
Yes, it is true that enlightenment may well manifest as these traits, but the difficult thing to understand is that the traits ONLY manifest once you’ve walked the whole path. The reality is, that stress, mental errors, and conflict are part of the fundamental truth of human nature; the truth that we suffer.
It stands to reason then, that all along the path to enlightenment, we do face these obstacles, and we must work tirelessly to manage them as well as we can. We go to great lengths to manage stress well to keep it under control. We work hard to manage conflict in the best way possible. We engage in logic, and reason and education to make sure our knowledge is conducive to wise choices.
All of this work seems to fly in the face of the effortless nature of enlightenment, however, doing this very work is the only way we can maintain our minds in such a way that creates an environment conducive to spiritual progress.
About chrooth
No this isn't some sort of midlife crisis thing. I'm just adapting. Like anyone else on here, or who does this, I believe I am writer. Unlike most others, I believe I am a writer because I have always written. Long story short, I was a really weird kid and sometimes it just felt like the only place I could turn for some solace and empathy was an empty page. I've always been a melodramatic writer and I've been really happy for a long time so I haven't felt the need to write but when I do... I have to. I basically live on the road, so my journal is hardly ever within reach, and when it is I convince myself that I'm too busy to make any time for it. So here I am, embracing the future, having acquired the journal that will follow me almost anywhere. I'm having one of those, "WHY DIDN'T I THINK OF THIS BEFORE!?" moments, and GOD after so long I can't tell you how good it feels to just let my mind spill through the tips of my fingers again. I suppose this would be an appropriate time to qualify both my ability and my intentions. I am not a good writer. I am told I have a strong tendency towards run-ons, I over punctuate, and I curse like a sailor. I can't spell for crap and especially while typing, I have a tendency to just leave words out. As I mentioned earlier this "blog" is meant as a replacement for my long treasured journal, which tends to imply a need for privacy. However, if you were to ever read my journal, you would eventually come across an entry musing over the purpose of a journal, wondering why they are written and kept in secret. I have no secrets. I had far too many secrets for far too long and I assure you, I have no more energy for them. Additionally, I can not properly conjure any feeling of being heard by manufacturing an imaginary personality that lives in a book and understands my words. So I write, and have always written, to you.
Thanks for reading it!
Chrooth 