A Balder Kind of Me

This is me following my haircut! 

Yesterday, I decided to cut off all of my hair. I don’t have any particular reason for doing that - apart from the fact that I’m already feeling the heat of summer and I was long due for a hair cut. On another level, I wanted to see how much having no hair - even if for a short time - would affect my self-image and the ways other people related to me. I also wanted to take this step, perhaps, to make a some kind of statement.

We may take hair for granted and don’t realise how much it can have an impact on the way others look at and relate to us. Besides our voices, the face and hair mark us apart from other people - provided they can see or her that is. But then, who we are beyond the senses? This is an important question but it’s beyond the scope of this entry to ask that question here but, hopefully, I’ll deal with that issue in other future posts.

But, yes, having my hair shaven off still compelled jokingly suggest that I had escaped from prison or became a Buddhist monk. I was complimented by most but, I admit, there was a kind of change in the way I felt when I presented my baldy self beyond the safety of the home. In a way, I am changed and, even if it’s not true that I escaped from prison or adopted the vows of a Buddhist monk, I have, in a sense, escaped from prison and have embraced many of the Buddhist precepts and am trying to practice them in the real world.

It may be true that hair is just part of our bodies. But, in time, you realise that human beings have used to express more than a fashion statement but used to express something about who they were. I did make a brief search of the Bible because I still like to explore what my original religious roots can teach me about life. Many times, it helps complement my growing understanding of Buddhism. Well, I was surprised how hair had a religious significance in Judaism and Christianity.

Indeed, even if whether having long or short hair is preferred is unclear, hair does feature in many important Bible accounts.. Indeed, the Bible search came up with 99 references to “hair” with a significant number only referring to “goat hair”. But, apart from that, hair and the cleanliness of the body are closely related. Indeed, Leviticus praises men who have a bald and clean head. On the other hand, it was disgraceful and even unholy for a woman to wear short hair. Well, this difference is again repeated in Corinthians.

However, it would be a mistake if one took the statements of the Bible out of socio-historical context. Indeed, health concerns in the Old Testament and also cultural tradition in the New have played an important role in establishing such conclusion. It is also worth mentioning that it was reported in the Bible that particular groups of Israelites, such as the Nazarenes, kept their hair long as a sign of devotion and also shaved it off later on it seems.

Hair represents strength and masculinity in the story of the then strong Samson who was betrayed by Delilah and, who ultimately, sacrificed himself and regained enough strength to regain justice. Hair is also that which is used to dry up Jesus’ feet when he visited a friend. Here, again, hair can be seen as a sign of humility and devotion. 

Today, with a powerful hair style industry, we wouldn’t dream of using our hair to dry up the feet of someone we adored - not even if we believed he or she was divine. Indeed, with all the promotion for hair growth treatment and our preoccupation with physical appearance, I wonder whether we’re really dealing with the inner part of us.

If I were to look at what Buddhism says about hair, I know that Buddhist monks keep their hair shaven to express their devotion to the teachings or teachings of the Buddha. This is because, for many, our hair at times gets more attention than it might deserve and we may grow too attached or obsessed with caring for it in case it starts falling out. 

Indeed, hair says many things by just standing there on our heads. Whether it’s a punk fan, a heavy metal fan, a man or woman, a Hassidic Jew, a skinhead, a convict, a person who has cancer or a Buddhist monk or we’re just getting old, our hair can tell without telling. But, whatever the length of your hair is or whether you have hair at all, I think that only thing matters.

Who you are inside is what really  matters..

Nothing else matters.

    

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A Meditation around a Burning Fire

Today, I took a day off work and had the chance to eat a proper meal with part of my family. Fish was being served. During a discussion that arose during lunch time, a point was raised about fish. And how cats didn’t need the fish to be cooked in order to eat it. I know it doesn’t sound like a profound question for meditation. But, then, I started thinking… and thinking…

A question appeared following this daytime reflection. Why did we need to cook our food to eat it? Cats and other creatures didn’t complain of eating raw meat and all that, did they? There are, of course, plenty of good reasons against eating raw food, especially meat or certain seafood. Apart from protecting us against potential illnesses or diseases which may result from eating raw food, I don’t think we can’t eat really consume raw food - even if I don’t recommend. it!

Yet, a difference we have in consuming certain food is that, with the exception of fruit and vegetables (for example), someone discovered that cooked food tasted better. However, what was the discovery that, I dare say, would revolutionise our entire species? It was, indeed, the discovery of fire. Or, to be more accurate, the ability to use fire in a way that favoured our survival. It made it possible, thanks to fire, not just to eat delicious barbecues, but it enabled us to keep warm during the winter months.

Fire also protected us against potential predators and was the central focus of our early societies. Even the word “focus” has a relation to the Romantic root as you find that the Italian word for fire is “fuoco”. So, apart from being a source of warmth and safety, a place around a fire gave our ancestors a sense of community, a sense of identity and a sense of belonging. No wonder, perhaps, it has gained a deep spiritual significance.

There are, of course, an exhaustive references made to fire in Christianity and Judaism. Fire is the symbol of purification, of pure being. It is central to a God who manifest the nature of God in the tautological assertion “I am what I am!” To Moses through a burning bush that didn’t burn or its symbolic representation of the Holy Spirit. Its light is the central reference in single-pointed Buddhist meditation practice.

Sadly, we have also put fire to a bad use as well. The flame-thrower in recent history. The many Europeans burned at the stake by fellow Europeans. The many cities and cultures destroyed and ravished by their enemies indiscriminately burning down buildings to impose their superiority. These, and many tragedies that human beings have inflicted on other human beings. For what? Then we’re ready to judge nature when a forest burns and people are killed. But then, did we forget.

It’s not fire itself that is the problem. Rather, it may be the phenomenon that has made our life possible. Fire and heat still generates our life. It provides enough energy to boil the water for our power stations. It’s fascinating that fire can do so much. Perhaps it has been indirectly responsible in the changes that have happened in our brain and, even more speculatively, may be indeed the light that sparked our self-awareness! Yes, the relation between human beings and fire is complex indeed and it would be unrealistic for me to cover this vast subject here.

But what is fire? It may be a bunch of over-excited atoms giving off energy in the form of heat. Indeed, it may be real and measurable. But now it’s there an then is no more. In this it reflects our beings. Constantly changing depending on various causes and conditions. It does, in a sense, die. And yet, when it’s gone it’s as if it has never been there. It might leave a trace. But it’s not there. It’s present because we can see it or feel it. But it’s also not really there if we didn’t sense it.

And, this brings me to an end of sorts. For we know of fire because we might have directly experienced its potential to comfort us or its potential to destroy through our senses. But, how do we know, that our senses can account for a universe we hardly understand? What, indeed, is out there that we might not even have the faculties to relate to?

Can we persist in claiming we have found all the answers, when we might have not understand the mystery contained in a burning flame?

A Forgotten Childhood?

As a young boy, I was curious to know about how the world worked. I also wanted to know what life was all about. I wanted to know to gain a kind of closure and some answers to the question of why I had an impairment, when other boys my age were considered “normal” and “healthy”. I just didn’t understand why the God the priests praised so much on the altar who was so kind and loving had punished me from birth. Surely, I had done something really awful. I was a bad child of God and had to accept my fate without question. Indeed, I needed to redeem myself. If I think about it, my impairment back then was not as severe as it is today. True, I couldn’t bend my legs straight and my gait, which was described by a doctor in one medical report was a “scissor’s gait” was close enough to reality. I could still walk and run at the time but still it bothered me that in spite of what I did, I was different in eyes of others.

With all good intentions, even those close to me wanted me to become “normal” and within a culture very influenced by religious sentimentality, I was prayed on and loved ones hoped for a “miracle” to happen. I was happy as a child but I was also unhappy. For whatever I did and any efforts I made I couldn’t become “normal”. Yes, that! What was more troubling was that I identified on some level with Satan. Hadn’t be also rejected from God and cast away to an eternal torment. But, unlike Satan, I was determined to return in God’s good books. But at around 8, I started experiencing the reality outside of the safety of the home. I met new people and different children. Many looked at me through their presumptions about my physical impairment and told me that I “inspired” them and given that troubling reassurance that I was bearing the “cross of Christ”. When I felt no different than other kids my age. But, in a way, I was.

The fact was that I was made to think. I dared to doubt. And, while a spiritual revolution was taking place in my mind, I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t articulate it in a way others could understand it. I sought refuge in trying to find answers beyond me. I wanted to knoW WHY. wHY HAD MY BROTHER DIED BEFORE I COULD GET TO KNOW HIM? Why I was born this way? Why was God angry at me? Was I a saint walking on the footsteps of Christ or a sinner bearing the torment of a banished hell angel? Yes, I was happy then. But there was always that foreknowing that this life will end. And then what will become of me? And was there a God any way? Or were we at the mercy of a God who was like those Greek gods I read in some of my books that toyed around with human BEINGS AS IF THEY WERE PAWNS ON CHESS BOARD?

I THOUGHT AND THOUGHT. DURING THOSE COLD WINTER NIGHTS WHEN I LOOKED WITH AWE AT THE DARK SKY TINTED WITH SILVER STARS. THE SAME STARS THE ANCIENT EGYPTIANS HAD STUDIED A THOUSAND YEARS AGO. THE SAME STARS THAT THE BIBLE SAYS HERALDED THE BIRTH OF THE JEWISH MESSIAH. THE SAME STARS THAT GUIDED SO MANY SEAFARERS. I was connected then with the past I shared with my ancestors. The same stars that were there at the beginning of the cosmos. The same stars but not yet the same. These are still stars that may not all be there today as their light takes millions of years to reach us. Stars are a connection with the past that is no longer there.

For a young boy, these thoughts were overwhelming. So many questions. So few answers. Many of which were incomplete or beyond my understanding. And yet, nobody in my life seemed to be asking why? People who claimed they were “people of faith” appeared to be interested in winning a place in heaven and saving their lives rather than living the spirit of love and compassion and reflecting on their lives. They weren’t asking about the wonders of this universe we find ourselves in. They weren’t asking themselves why they were the lucky ones to live on Earth in the first place.

But, yes, they were interested in making more money and searching for happiness in things that never lasted. Even their aspiration to gain heaven was motivated by a hope to experience pleasure and freedom from pain. Bt they forgot that heaven was now. What happens in the future is beyond our control. It’s only now that we can change the world. It’s only now that we can change ourselves. And, yes, I gradually became the adult I feared to become as a child. True, I tended to more open to different people because, I myself, had been judged simply for being different. Yet, many of those early attachments that I hoped to never acquire, I did acquire. So, I can’t really judge.

I may choose to go deeper into my past but I am restricted by time and space.I just wanted to share these memories as I keep growing in self-awareness. As I said in early posts, I am now on a journey of self-discovery. I am engaging more in Buddhist practice. I feel a sense of peace and happiness that I can’t really express using language. But, it’s there and it’s changing my life. For the better. I don’t expect for you to understand and I certainly don’t write to convert anyone to Buddhism and to take up a daily practice of meditation and mindfulness. I am just writing after reflecting on my own experience of life. At that, my experience of life is very limited when compared to the what one can experience in the longest of human lifetimes. It is also infinitesimal if you compare it to the age of the cosmos. But, yet, as insignificant as it might be, this life is really the only thing I have.

I end this entry here hoping. Hoping that tomorrow will come. That I will be still alive tomorrow. That the Earth will be here tomorrow. That those around me are still there with me. But there’s always the possibility of change. A change that isn’t necessarily bad but, at times, also necessary if we are to continue living. Yet, tomorrow remains only a hope and whether you’re a believer or non-believer, we all hold an irrational faith in a tomorrow.

In Praise of Practice

I’ve progressed a lot since I started my journey into Buddhism. Yes, I 

learned a lot over these months. At the same time, the more I learn about Buddhism, the greater I realise how much I have to learn. Even if I feel genuinely connected to the practices of Buddhism such as meditation and mindfulness, I still make mistakes. 

 

However, I can’t be unrealistic and expect to be perfect in my practice. As long as I’m still alive, I will falter one time and more. In fact, I will probably keep committing mistakes as long as I live. Yet, I have embraced the Buddhist point of view because it resonates with me on a deeper level. I really can’t really explain this but I rejoice in discovering Buddhist philosophy.

 

To be completely honest, I was always interested in learning more about science and religion when I was a young boy. I also felt there was something more in life than just the material existence. And, being ascribed a physical impairment and, later, learning of my dead brother did help me reflect on my own mortality and impermanence  of life.

 

  In addition, back then, I had a passion for astronomy. I felt humbled and somehow saddened by the thought that we were the only ones who inhabited this vast universe. At least, that’s what I was expected to believe. But, still, I doubted this was really true but sounded rather arrogant and an anthropocentric (human-centred) view. Of course, I would not know what that word really meant at such a young age.

 

My life, I guess, was one characterised by the need to know and a need to understand. I had the opportunity to travel a lot with my family when I was a child. It was then I first encountered different cultures and people having a different faith than the one I was brought up in (Roman Catholicism). I realised that I was no that different from these people but somehow persisted to think of myself as better than they were.

 

But when I gained more experiences of the real world, I became painfully aware that because of my impairment, people did judge me before they got to know me. Yes, it was an unpleasant experience but it did help me look beyond the prejudices and assumptions people made about those who were different than them.

 

How does my Buddhist practice have to do with all this?

 

The truth of the matter is that thanks to a daily practice of meditation and mindfulness, I feel connected to my origins - to my authentic being. I try to be more careful on how I relate with others and more aware of my thoughts and actions. I realise that if I claim to believe that I should practice compassion, my commitment should be reflected in my actions as well.

 

For, holding on to principles without putting them into practice is pointless and a betrayal of our authentic being. In short, principles without practice are just not enough! 

 

I close this post with a quote from the HH the 14th Dalai Lama, which I have come to cherish when I read it for the first time:

 

“If you want to be happy- practice compassion,

If you want others to be happy - practice compassion.”

HH The 14th Dalai Lama (b. 1935) 

A Reflection on Motherhood

Insome parts of the world, May is a month when motherhood is celebrated. This is the case in Malta (my country). Perhaps it’s obvious to state that everyone is here alive because he or she had a mother to conceive him/her.. I have thought a bit about the significance of this fact and as I meditated over the meaning of motherhood, I realised how much I had taken for granted and how really little did I appreciate having a mother in the first place. I also realised that, in spite of the many ways we separate ourselves from each other, we all have or had a mother in our lives.

When I thought about what the meaning of motherhood was to me, I realised that I can never truly understand what this actually is like. True, every mother experiences motherhood in her own way. However, as I’m a man, I can only go so far in my understanding of that experience. In addition, as a man, I can never aspire to be a mother. In fact, a prerequisite of being a mother is that you’re also a women. When I think about it, I find that it’s rather odd that in monotheistic religions, God is usually given masculine characteristics. Yet, I wonder whether this was the logical choice. And, if you look at ancient religions, we discover the cult of the Mother goddess. After all, aren’t we born out of mothers? Mothers, who are without exception, also women? Shouldn’t it then follow that God is primarily a woman as He is one who gives life and loves unconditionally?

I will not go into that debate today. It’s just that I feel rather embarrassed when I think how many men before me and to come assume that being a man entitles them to a certain superiority. When, I have come to realise that men and women should be equal and while physiologically we’re different, one sex isn’t superior to another but complementary to each other. Indeed, we come to the world because there was once a man and a woman who willingly or unwillingly united together on an intimate level..


Why did I include “unwilling” unions in the sentence before? This is because not all of us are the fruits of a loving relationship and may be the fruits of rape. Others may be abandoned by their mothers soon after they are born. And, sadly, some are even killed before they are even born. Aren’t these children of less value than others? I feel that we tend to think of mothers in an idealised way and forgetting that they are human beings who commit mistakes as well. Indeed, it takes a lot of sacrifice to become a mother and take care of your children. I don’t say this to diminish the status of mothers but, as I reflect on my own perceptions of mothers, I have a tendency to forget that not everyone might have a positive experience of their mother - if at all. And the mothers and the children living in difficult situations are often labelled or judged before they have a chance to know who they are. This is regretful but it happens. We risk closing our minds to an idea of motherhood that doesn't reflect the reality. In so doing, we invariably diminish the value of others who fall short of fitting in with our biased views on what motherhood means. Here, I have to thank my mother for giving me life but the many women in my life who provided me with guidance and understanding. Women who, in spite of being biologically unrelated helped me throughout my love with love and compassion without expecting anything in return. These too, in one way or another, were like mothers to me.

on Mother’s Day”. Indeed, you don’t have to be a mother in the biological sense to be a mother. Indeed, “motherhood” goes beyond biology but can also mean to be there for someone. To take care of the needs of another person when they’re young or vulnerable. It is to be there for someone else and love another unconditionally. Inn fact,, there were many women in my life who have also been like mothers to me. And, even if we might think of mothers in a limited way, these women had also an important role to play in our lives.

But, my mother remains the person who brought me to the world. She's the one who was here in my early childhood. Unfortunately, as I grew up and sought more autonomy, my relationship somehow started weakening. It's a phase we all go through as adolescents I guess. And, even

today, we may forget that if it wasn't for our mothers, we wouldn't be here. And even if we may not know who our mother is or were rejected by our mothers at some point in our life, we can appreciate that another human being brought us to the world. It's too easy to judge mothers who reject their children. But, even if it's not something pleasant, our mothers may thought this was best for us. I know I lack experience but, I feel, that some actions that may be misguided are too quickly judged as irresponsible or downright wrong.

As I end this post, I admit that I need to work on my relationship with my mother. I have taken her for granted. And, it's important to keep my heart open. For, it may be difficult, but it's necessary.

For today, she may be here. But, tomorrow, who knows? Indeed, only today can I really express my appreciation for giving me life and for being here for me.

Tomorrow may be too late.

Visions of Tomorrow

I’m writing this on a quiet Saturday morning. I plan to publish it tomorrow. And unless, something went wrong, you’re probably reading this on Sunday - but not before. I had a good night of rest but I went to sleep with a feeling of sadness and uncertainty following last night’s meditation. T the time of writing, yesterday was Friday  May 2012. But what does this date really mean?

Yes, I sometimes lose the sense of time. Whenever that happens, it’s always rather unsettling. Perhaps I’m getting old but should this be happening when I’m still 31? But, I guess that my experience of life is unique to me. Yet, at the same time, my life as a human being shares with you many common realities. The differences that separate me from you, indeed, are mostly artificial and secondary. Our position on Earth exposes us to the same challenges of life. Our needs are similar. The only differences are, in many cases, a result of our own preconceptions and models of how the world works that are fabricated by our minds.

I am still disturbed by what came up during my meditation. I will have to reflect more on its significance. I hope to be able to write an entry or two in the future. Yet, tomorrow I will be changed person as I wake up to a new day. I may not even be here tomorrow. Then, who would have written this? I will be just not here and, honestly, I don’t know where I would be. For tomorrow is only a thought only exists in our minds. It isn’t real in the sense that it is not tangible and, in truth, it is unreal. The only thing I can be sure of is that today I’m still alive and in relatively good health. I don’t know whether I’ll be around tomorrow. Granted, there’s a good probability that I’ll be here. But, still, my knowledge is limited. What tells me that a catastrophic event will hit Earth?

I don’t know. While one may be tempted to live in fear of the end, I have come to realise that death is ultimately our final destination. We may believe there’s an after-life awaiting us but there’s no certainty that another reality beyond this life exists. What I really have is the present moment. Thus, even if I still fail in this, as I grow in mindfulness, the more I have come to appreciate the present moment as a gift that I have been given without really doing anything to deserve it. 

And, whatever the future will bring, I  will try to be open to this unique opportunity to live for another day...  

A Disability Activist and a Buddhist at Heart

When I started blogging on the Gordon's D-Zone, I intended this blog to deal with  the issue of disability as I developed my understanding of disability from a social model perspective. I retain my commitment to the cause of disabled people worldwide. I do so both as an activist and as a disabled person myself. I don't think that I will retire from this struggle for inclusion and equality until society acknowledges that people with impairment, like myself, are part of society and takes our differences into account.

Having said that, my life has led me to appreciate different things and over time I have explored various areas and developed new interests. However, my involvement in disability activism is motivated by a desire to be included as a person and as an equal to others. I want to see, for example, a philosophy that celebrates human diversity rather than one attached to certain ideals of bodily perfection. Or else, a science which doesn't assume that impairment necessarily causes a drop in one's quality off life or tries to psychologically scrutinise our minds making claims that dealing with  impairment and bereavement are, in any way, similar. I also wish that I was included as a person in religion and spirituality which sometimes have used our impaired bodies as a metaphor for sin or evil.

I have recently been admitted to hospital and, to be honest, I am still facing health issues lately. I thought it wasn't appropriate to write about this on this blog given the tendency for impairment to be associated with suffering. But, I admit, the hospital experiences I had over the last six months have led me to ask a lot of questions and delve deeper into my spiritual side. Indeed, I have been questioning the purpose of life for some months and I confess I found solace in Buddhism. Indeed, I feel that I can relate to the Buddhist outlook on life. I can't really explain it, but I feel connected to Buddhism more than I ever felt before with any world view or philosophy. I am now confident enough to be more open about it and, finally, I thought that I needed to express it on this blog - which was where my blogging all started.

It may not be   the best time to express my Buddhist confession - given it's Easter and I was brought up as a Roman Catholic. However, my embracing of a Buddhist mindset isn't a declaration where I reject all I have learned as a Roman Catholic. Indeed, I have come to appreciate the richness of both Christianity and Buddhism. This "awakening" so to speak is a personal one. I don't want anyone to follow any path that they feel goes against their religious (or other) convictions. Indeed, I will surely discover more aspects to who I am as the years pass., Life is a process and not a closed book.

Tomorrow, Christians around the world celebrate the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead. In some respects, this is also an awakening. It's a renewal. Yet, the miracle of this event is, I think, that it offers hope to all of us as it illustrates that even death hasn't got the final say. Some of you might doubt whether there is an after-life or claim to be non-believers. Yes, no one has concrete proof that there's life after death or if there's anything beyond this life. The Buddha teaches us to be aware of the present moment because, in reality, our pasts are but a memory and the future is yet to be. At least, that's my interpretation. In the Buddha's outlook on life, the only thing that we can change is the present and the only person we can truly manage is ourselves. Our suffering is caused by our clinging to things that are really temporary. Well, there's my Buddhist thoughts flowing.

If you're interested to read about my journey into Buddhism, please refer to my "Buddhist" blog at ZoneMind. I assure you that I'll continue writing here from the perspective of  a disability activist.

However, at this stage, I wanted to be open about my realisation because a Buddhist understanding is now part of who I am.

More Information

Above, , I've included an entry that I published on one of the other blogs I contribute to. While in this blog, Gordon's D-Zone, I deal with issues that relate to my experience as a disabled person, I decided to rite this post in order to reveal a part of who I am that I'm discovering through my engagement with Buddhism and which many people would be unaware of. Indeed, in this entry, I tried to express how I am feel today and to raise awareness of the fact that, ultimately, my realisation is that, that of the day, I want to be treated as a human being as much as anyone else and that this also involves going beyond simply acceptingg our differences but going as far as celebrating them as part of our human diversity. Well, hope you enjoy!!!

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