A Taoist perspective

A buddhist monk went into the river - submerged his entire body in the water - then came out on shore. A moment later he went back into the water. Did the monk go into the same river? It's a Tibetan proverb designed to quiet the thinking process and eliminate the concept of space and time within the human mind.

I was on the red-dotted carpet floor of barnes&nobles (a place where I spend my lofty time while listing through novels), reading Dennis Lehane's latest mystery, Shutter Island, when suddenly I could no longer read the words from the book. Ohh ohh. Panic. I closed the book, saving the page numbers between my thumb and index finger, and quickly shifted my gaze. I blinked in despiration. Eyesight normal. Relief. I went back to the book. My eyes blurred again - only this time the fuzziness was accompanied by fatigue and a mild headache. I cautiously dismissed the pain in my head, hoping it would pass if I didn't pain attention to it. I struggled for the third time to concentrate on the content of the novel. Yawn. Another yawn. My brain and body were telling me to take a break, a deep breath, walk out for a latte or something - anything - just stop reading. Well, I diiidn't liiiisteen (sing-song). I'm a thick-headed, stubborn capricorn. I let my focus dwidle to such a point where I couldn't even remember what book I had in front of me. Shutter Island. Right.

I put the mystery to the side and suddenly remembered the Tao - "go with the flow." As soon as I uttered the quote in my head, the languish had left my body. I was again focused on my novel. I noticed my surroundings. My hands. My breath. I looked around the bookstore with new vigor. The quote served like an adrenaline shop up my hiney. Or like a nutritious meal packed with B-vitamins. Or an eight-hour sleep in which you dream you're the king of Atlantis. If I could feel this energetic punch every time I remembered the quote, and live by its principle, I could revitalize my mental state no matter what circumstance I find myself in. I was determined to take the tao for a test-drive.

I collected the books off of the floor, stuffed them back on the shelves, and stepped onto the ascending escalator in a busy barnes&nobles on Union Turnpike - all while running a Taoist creed in my head. I walked outside, and instead of driving or taking the bus, I decided to trek on foot towards my house. I filled my lungs with fresh air, and minimize my carbon footprint on the planet. As I made the thirty-minute journey home I practiced seeing the world through a fresh Taoist perspective. I don't know how fast I got home that night, or what happened to me on the dark sidewalks, but I remember walking and feeling every step underneath my feet. The wind picked up and I reminded myself - "go with the flow." Suddenly, the wind became a friend, an element of nature. I wasn't afraid of chills. I "merged" with the wind and experienced its mysterious ways.

As I walked home I thought about the proverb. In my opinion, the monk did not walk into the same river. Since every body of water undergoes changes in temperature, current, and wave patterns, the river had fundamentally changed when the monk submerged himself in it the second time. The waves have shifted their positions. The wind patterns have changed. Temperature has flunctuated. Hydrogen and oxygen atoms broke off and binded with new atoms and created fresh molecules in the process. We can see this pattern in our everyday life: when we walk towards our home, or the subway, or the store, notice your step - no two steps are the same. When the rain falls - no two raindrops (or snowflakes) are identicle. No two jump shots, homeruns, touchdowns, are the same. Each has its own life and vigor - like the vigor I felt in b&n when I reminded myself of the quote - "Artur, go with the flow."

looking at a blank screen

Of course my computer screen wasn't blank as I stared at the contents of my ex-girlfriend's facebook homepage - my goddamn mind was blank. I fell in love a little over half-a-year ago, and now I'm stuck wallowing about every flirtacious post, comment, and the "I like" thumb that she leaves on her male friends' status updates. I'm enraged. She suppossed to be mine. MINE. Okay. Mercury is in retrograde. Let me calm my young azz down.

My girlfriend is 36, I'mmm 25. Besides our age difference we are both of different cultures. She's Irish-American, Catholic, though not religious. I'm Russian. One-and-a-half generation immigrant. Vith may thikk Russhian akcent.

Here's what I found helps when you're in a relationship with an older woman (she's not a cougar, btw, and she'll bite your head off if she hears you call her that). Be responsible for your half of the partnership, and allow her to be responsible for her half. In his book The Mastery Of Love, Don Miguel Ruiz brings an example of a dog: when you come home, your dog is happy to see you. He runs up to the door to greet you. He wags his tail. He barks in happiness. The dog is responsible for his part of the relationship. In turn, you love the dog, feed it, take it outside for windy walks, cuddle with it (if you fancy), and play with it. The dog needs nothing more from you than for you to be a responsible owner. The same logic can be applied to relationships - any relationship, in fact - to your grandmother, coworkers, friends, etc. Be responsible for your half. This will ease the tension and stress that may arise when you try to be responsible for your lover (hee hee).

I tried and it worked for me. Does it work full-proof 110% of the time. It does. As long as your ego doesn't get in the way.

Ways to curbing your ego, look up quotes from Eckhart Tolle, or, his books - The New Earth and The Power of Now.

The Mastery of Love, by Don Miguel Ruiz can be read in one weekend, for free, at your local barnes&nobles. Also check out The Four Agreements.

Salut.