Scratch your name
Into the fabric
Of this world
Before you go
The skin will tear
Under the pressure
Make it deep
So it always shows

Scratch your name
As true as love is insane

The Noisettes are rocking my world.

What causes you to be moved this deeply?

As true as love is insane

There's been a few times in my life when I have gone insane. One experience was when I felt a great loss, the other was on a meditation retreat after realizing I have never been born. When an emotion is pure (insane without fear, insane without anger) it is a very lucid and clear experience. I found myself sobbing and my body was throwing all sorts of fits, but my mind was still, pointed, and transfixed. The fear didn't come until I realized that true insanity itself is another face of god. Yet another taste of the transcendent.

But the transcendent isn't all there is. Being human means get caught up in all the day-to-day muck of our lives. Our loved ones die and we grieve. We say yes to too many obligations and we overload on stress. We lash out at others because we're hurting inside.

Where would you be if the world was pure bliss? How would you know what bliss was if you didn't have hell to compare it with? Our human-ness is also the sense doors for the divine. The sooner you realize this, the sooner you'll get over feeling sorry for yourself and make a conscious decision to be a human being.

And that is the paradox, isn't it? And it lends credence to old zen saying: Enlightenment is realizing there is no enlightenment.

You are already enlightened (you always have been), and yet you're not (because an eternal taste would make us forget what we're drinking).

I've seen my zen teacher be as tough as a military drill sergeant and as compassionate as buddha, taking on the world's suffering to help heal it. I used to think that some days he was just being an asshole, and while none of us are saints, what I've come to learn is Genpo cares with depth few teachers can embody.

I consider myself a good listener. I sigh when a sigh is needed, I grimace on cue and courtesy chuckle like a talk show host making their guest feel welcomed. This works; people share their story and since I'm triggering all the right interpersonal signals they feel heard. Other times they might be looking for validation about something I disagree with, and I can nod and smile with the best of them.

Lately the ritual of nodding, placating, giving people the quick pat on the back feels more contrived than ever. Since starting Big Mind my traditional interpersonal communication skills have wavered. The Big Mind process helps me identify and name the emotional persona I'm currently speaking as, and in doing so I take ownership of my feelings. This empowerment is akin to remembering the name to a familiar face, or finally recalling that word that was previously drawing blanks, or on an esoteric realm, being called by your true name for the first time and finally feeling home. On any realm, naming the voice or trait we're speaking as helps us to understand why we're feeling the way we are.

Like most things that keep us stuck, this old dialog pattern is yet another high-fiver in the fear club. I thought by giving the standard and expected responses people want that they'll see I care, and ultimately that they'll like me. What I realized today was how incredibly selfish and truly un-caring this act is. It's motivated by my ego trying to cover it's ass. The end result is the relationships and intimacy I was wanting is simultaneously being pushed away, by me! Why? Because a mountain fake smiles is easier than a single moment of vulnerability. And vulnerability creates intimacy.

And then I look at Genpo Roshi who learned value of this insight probably early on in his practice. Helping people isn't about getting them to like you. For me it's about knowing that at a different vantage point there is nothing that needs to be changed. And at that place there is also no distinction between you and them, no liking to be liked, if you will. Genuine and authentic compassion flows from the source of knowing who you always have been, and this are the tools used by my teacher.

Recently I've been fascinated by the social and religious taboos early day scientists had to overcome to study human anatomy. Some called it witchcraft and playing God. Others such as Yasukazu Minagaki (1784-1825) couldn't resist dissecting the cadavers of criminals in hopes to aid the living. And while drawings of cadavers in western medicine always depict corpses as painless living entities, Yasukazu's work is gruesome, informative, honest, and elegantly raw. His work is currently stored in the Keio University Library. The collection is also online.

This is the longest my hair has been since my high school mullet, and I'm having way too much fun finding the hair style that's gonna stick for awhile.

Just following the mullet was the spiked hair, held up high with the infamous hair gel. Purple hair gel.

Here's hoping this next hair cycle for me isn't history repeating itself!