Author: barryschade@gmail.com

When I am silent and close my eyes, I can feel the humming. I could say that I hear it, but I actually sense it with my whole self. My whole body feels the humming. All my senses lean into the humming and get carried into it, riding the gentle powerful wave that flows thru all things. I become the wave, the humming.

The humming I feel is not limited by time or space. It vibrates beyond my senses while touching all of them. It is the soft, swirling, surging music of the universe. It is the energy that animates all things.

The humming is in the wings of the cardinal, the glow of the goldenrod, the boldness of the stones. I am carried by the same humming and it enters and enlivens every part of me. It invites me to plunge into the ultimate realm where its presence is unfettered by my senses. It beckons beyond all appearances.

As often as I can, I turn and focus on the humming and it becomes the force and substance of my momentary experience. For me, it is real and all else becomes suddenly ephemeral. In a moment of attention, the humming is all there is, beyond shape and thought. It is everything. It is enough. The humming simply is.

I have been thinking a lot lately what it means to live in-between. Today I have only a short time to write about it. I am hovering inbetween the needs of my garden and my wanting to write. I am hovering inbetween in many other ways as well.

In eastern thought, there is the theme of bardos, the time-space that we enter when our bodies cease to function and we transition into another kind of existence. I think that same kind of existing inbetween is a dimension of my whole existence. It manifests in so many ways, even before I die.

Between desire and the object of my desire, there is a space that is neither a longing or a possession of what I long for. Actually, it is a combination of both, but not either. It is a coming together but not actually touching, it means living in the gap and absorbing, feeling the strong gravitational pull of each.

For me, it is a realm of emptiness, of free-fall, of totally letting go but containing all things. It is a place to be in-between, a place to live unhinged and unattached. It is a place of entering into the whole messy affair, all at once.

Language encourages me to take sides, to be this or that. There is no inbetween language, even while poetry attempts to create that space. Language encourages binary thinking and relationship. Black is not white, this is not that, here is not there.

Gender distinctions pull me into a binary world that doesn’t actually exist. It pulls me into an illusion that is not based on reality. Gender does not allow for inbetween living. Trans young people are helping me to see that reality is not binary but it is inbetween. I can no longer see myself as one or the other, and I am attempting to live in the inbetween reality.

Living inbetween means letting go of most of my concepts and paradigms. It means entering a space that floats outside of time. It rides on a deep sea of non-binary reality and invites me into a deep connection with all things. But it means surrendering to free-fall, no longer relying on a world defined in a binary manner. It encourages me to see black as being white, this as being that, here as being there. It invites me to live a paradox.

Perhaps it simply means becoming unhinged. I find that becoming unhinged is strongly attractive. Living in-between is the closest I have ever felt to being in touch with reality.

It is a common image in the world of mindfulness. To approach the observation, peeling and eating of a tangerine becomes a practice of sensory exhilaration and mindfulness. In some sessions of training in mindfulness, raisins are passed out and the participants are urged to observe and savor them in a mindful manner. The texture of the fruit is noticed and felt with the fingers and with the tongue. The crushing of the raisins between the teeth is an exercise in explosive delight.

The same kind of mindfulness can also be present in a sexual engagement. The same focused attention given to the tangerine or the raisin can be brought to the touch of someone close. As with the tangerine and raisin, all the senses can be brought into play with deep attention and mindfulness. Mindfulness can be a way of deep intimacy and energy in anyone we touch with our senses. Mindfulness can be part of any form of awareness of our own bodies.

Tangerines and raisins invite deep attention and mindfulness. So does everyone and every thing around us.

Every morning, I open my heart, my whole body to the universe. For me it is not just an attempt to hold the whole world close. It is more a bold gesture to align myself with it all. I want to allow the energy all around me to flow free freely through me, I want to be a conduit as well as a receptacle of the wondrous erotic energy of the universe.

For me to be aligned means no resistance. It means no holding on to my preconceptions of what is to be, what is about to flow into my day. I may make some plans, perhaps to plant begonias today. That is but a broad outline and it may or may not be what I will experience as the energy of the ages manifests in how my day progresses.

It is for me a generous letting go, of being prepared for what will flow through me today. Sometimes I think of it as a free fall into what comes my way. It may be more like allowing the current of the universe, the free flowing energy of the world around me to carry me along. I will not resist it. I will align myself with the gestures of the world, even those I do not welcome and prefer to change. Some I may even attempt to redirect. They will all carry me along as I align myself with them and the energy they carry.

My body, of course, is integral to this alignment. If I am to channel the eros of the universe, my body has to be attuned to that magnificent force all around me. It is for me a total gesture of allowing my body to fall into nothingness and become one with all that flows around me. I become a channel of the erotic energy that makes the plants grow, the winds blow, the water flow. I open to the leaping energy of squirrels in my trees, the flying birds, the emerging plants. I feel their energy with my whole body, I allow the same energy that moves them to become what propels me through the day.

It is happening all around me, and I want to be aligned with it all. First my body has to let go. All my senses have to forget what they know and be prepared for what is to come. They are prepared to be surprised, to be aligned

This is an outline of a talk given to the Blooming Heart Sangha on  4/27/2023

Close your eyes and remember.

• Remember what it was like to stare up into the dark sky, away from lights, away from anything blocking your view.
• Remember the strong attraction, the invitation to be pulled into the darkness, into the vastness; remember the invitation to experience the whole cosmos around you, to be swallowed up in the darkness.

A couple months ago, I got such an invitation from Rilke.

• Not from a night sky, but from a few lines of poetry:  

                        You see I want a lot;  maybe I want it all:

                        The darkness of each endless fall, the shimmering light                                              of each ascent.

Tonight, I want to pass that invitation on to you:  an initation  into darkness…….now you can open your eyes, but I still invite you to enter into the darkness.  an invitation to experience it all.

This is not easy:  First of all, I am aware that we have subtle ways of avoiding darkness.

• We call some of our history the “dark ages” because, frankly, we don’t know a whole lot about them.
• Only recently, within the last century, it was discovered that 96% of the universe is unknown, made of what we simply call dark matter and dark energy;   we only “see” the atomic part, 4% of what is there.  
• I have learned to dread the “dark night of the soul” some western mystics described.
• Most of us light up our streets and our yards because of the presumed dangers lurking in darkness.   

Like Rilke, I want it all, which means embracing the dreaded darkness.   

I’ve wondered how have I come to avoid the darkness?  There are numerous ways.

            –           I think that when I was born, my culture gave me a mask that                                                attempts to shield me from a fear of the Unknown, the                                                    Unseen, Unsafe

–           I have learned to live in an artificial atmosphere of hierarchy, racial stratification to keep me safe; I live with cultural blinders on.

–           Like most of us, I have learned to celebrate speed, action, productivity, attachment,         success, destination, linear time, rationality, logic. ….rather than relax in to the darkness. 

–           Sometimes we even engage in a kind of spiritual bypassing: to escape the messy world, seek transcendence, crave calmness, even celebrate out of body experience. The darkness is not a calm, energy-less place

            –           The bias is to the light over darkness; we seek enlightenment 

            –           All help me avoid the darkness.

I think that the opposite is my destiny; darkness is our destiny.

–           I can find freedom by turning to darkness, letting go of fear, turning to where my fears lurk.

–           Metabolizing, ommuning with, plunging into darkness opens me to an unwavering, luminous, inner light; enlightenment in darkness; everything is there.    

Examples: What does turning to the darkness mean in practice? 

–           I think it often means simply answering the question: ‘What would Thay do?’

–           Entering in to darkness means my deeply experiencing grief for the planet, its people, plants and animals.   Opening up to the possibility of a passionate, caring response to the plight of the planet, expanding my capacity to love, yielding to deep intimacy with the world.

–           Entering into darkness means deeply experiencing the trauma of my racism;  my own; it means I enter into the dark realm of my own racism.

–           It means I allow myself a more relaxed relationship with those MAGA , sleazy politicians or family members.

–           Entering into darkness means welcoming the trauma of my childhood; it means befriending those troubling seeds that Thay speaks of, those seeds that frighten me, that I don’t want to grow.  

–           It means embracing my shadow side; all the things Jung spoke of.

–           Entering into darkness means deeply experiencing my fear of “other”, entering into my fear of anything different.   Fully absorbing the awareness of the binary nature of our culture.

How do I do this?  How do I enter into darkness:   for me, the doorway is not a bunch of concepts, but the doorway to darkness is through the body. 

–           I begin by allowing myself to feel the vast spaciousness within my body;  the darkness within, the vast storehouse of energy within my body.

–           It means I slow down; allow the feeling of spaciousness to open inside; feel the darkness of each endless fall.

            –           It means that I accept there is no need to find answers; let go of pursuits.

            –           It means that I become open and curious; cultivate and develop “beginners mind”

            –           I Trust what I experience within; no resistance; no                                                        preconceptions;  embrace my internal authority.

            –           I be patient with the arrival of darkness; remember that                                               I have been conditioned otherwise.

            –           I abandon convictions and beliefs; rely on my intuition of                                             the present.

            –           I be gentle on myself; allow myself to feel fully what                                                     arises in the moment.

In summary: For me, it is a transformation of consciousness, 

            –           To enter darkness allows everything to enter with me:                                                  fear, aversion, joy, illumination.   

            –           There is a deep form of intimacy in darkness.   a deep                                                 form of awareness.   

–           For me entering darkness is the key:  I want to become intimate with everything. 

–           I offer you the invitation to enter darkness.    

Questions:

            –           What is it like for you to walk in the woods in the dark?

            –           What waits for you in the darkness?

            –           Is there an alternate way of understanding Darth Vadar’s attempt to draw Luke into darkness?

–           Are there ways of embracing fear rather than be controlled by it?

–           What do you want to metabolize in the darkness?

I absorbed many books and many classes as I was training to become a theologian. I read, I listened, I wrote papers. Eventually, I was recognized as a master of theology, of religious science. But under all that effort, a different frame of mind was developing and evolving. Rather than becoming a theologian, I was slowly emerging as a geologian.

My frame of reference gradually was becoming not what was theoretically above my head, but was perceptively under my feet.

Even though I had the credentials of a theologian, I was becoming aware that the God of western christianity had died, had lost relevancy. It was not so much the work of Neitzche that sent me in that direction. It was the urging I got from Teilhard, the theologian who dug into the earth for fossils, that brought me to that realization.

Teilhard has, of course, not been my only teacher. There have been many others, including the two professors who taught me the mysteries of earth dynamics this past semester. The plants in my garden constantly bring me to a deeper kind of awareness, as well as a growing assortment of scholars in the buddhist tradition.

The books on my shelves do not exclude the world of western christianity; I continue to be interested in the work of modern biblical scholars like Elaine Pagels. But my reading has become more focused on poetry and earth science. I am constantly inspired by a deepening understanding of the mind, guided by skilled writers and my own reflection on how my mind works.

It all is centered not on what was the realm of theology, but on earth science as I open my mind to the reality of the world which presents itself to me directly . I walk on it, I touch it, I see its reflection. My own body speaks to me more clearly than the theologians ever had and with greater validity. I am becoming a happy geologian, discovering the world that enthusiastically unfolds all around me. I am finding my true home, as it always has been.

It seems to happen a lot. I will be talking with a friend, and the conversation takes a turn in a way that causes me to say, ” I was just thinking that!” I sometimes explain this by calling it a coincidence. Perhaps it is a logical turn based on what we had been discussing. I think it is more often an example of convergence. Our minds, already in harmony, simply are turning to a convergent connection with the universal intelligence in which we live.

You see, I think the universe is a vast pool of awareness. Call it intelligence if you want; I regard both as aspects of the same reality. Humans, like all animate and inanimate entities, have evolved to be able to tune into that intelligence. My physiology has a developed, nurtured ability to share in that universal intelligence in a human way. How much I can share in it, or in which way I share in it, is a result of my innate physiology and how I have trained it. A lot depends on my physical body. It also depends on how I have practiced to use my physical body to be aware.

My awareness is different from that of a wolf, an eagle or a tree. We have physical structures that are capable of tuning into the universal awareness in different ways. My awareness is similar to other humans because we share similar neurological structures. But it is also different from other humans because I have learned to use those neurological structures in different ways than that have.

But there are some people, notably close friends, who have trained their physiology, their neural networks, in ways similar to what I have done. We have learned to be connected to the universal awareness in similar ways. The universal awareness, intelligence expresses itself in similar ways in each of us. So when our conversation takes a similar turn, it isn’t that we are being logical, or that we can read one another’s minds. We simply, out of training, converge on similar awareness.

I like being able to experience this kind of convergence with friends. I wish I could also converge more with the intelligence, awareness of a wolf, an eagle or a tree. To do this, I think I must first shed much of the training unique to humans, my training on how to be aware as a human. It means shedding the dualistic way of thinking that otherwise serves me well, but interferes with my ability to enter the universal awareness with few constraints. I have to learn better how to let go, how to skinny dip in the universal awareness.

I think I want to float into the universal endless darkness that has no limitations of conventional human thought. I want a greater kind of convergence that allows me to experience how I am connected to all things.

Being human with my given physiology has been a wonderful adventure. Practicing expanded ways of human convergence has given me delight. I am trying to step beyond into a deeper convergence. And I have no idea what that will be like.

Yesterday, I stood for forty-five minutes on the corner of 9th and Nicollet, waiting for the number nine bus to arrive and take me home. It was cold and uncomfortable standing all that time, sometimes leaning against the stone building. It was, in looking back, a bit of immersion in reality. A chance opportunity to be real.

The elderly white woman next to me repeatedly stepped forward into the middle of the sidewalk. She looked down the street to see if the bus was approaching. When I tried to tell her it was still over 15 minutes away, she shook her head and pointed to her ears. I smiled and nodded.

There was a flurry of activity off to my left and a couple of young black men quickly hurried around the corner up Nicollet. Suddenly there was a chorus of angry voices. I couldn’t understand a word, but the loud shouting continued for a long time. I resisted the urge to walk to the corner and see what was happening. I was afraid.

A white woman huddled against the building to my right, clutching a pair of Yaktrax in one hand. Her stocking cap was pulled over her forehead down to her glasses. She had on a mask up to her glasses. I would not recognize her if I ever saw her again. She was hunched up quietly.

Trucks came and went, taxis dropped off people, individuals shouted across the street to someone.

A middle-aged black man and I joined in joking about the long wait for the bus. He kept dancing around on the sidewalk between the building and the curb. He had to pee he said, and was resisting going a little way up the sidewalk to get relief. He joked about not wanting to wet himself and we both laughed. He pulled a brown bag out of his satchel and took a drink. We kept up our exchange until the bus arrived.

My bus finally showed up and I gingerly stepped onto the ice in the gutter, not wanting to slip as I got on the bus. I scanned my card and found a seat, surrounded by a cluster of people I did not recognize and would likely not see again.

This has been my real world on a Tuesday morning.

It is frustrating for me that discussing sexuality is so absent or off-base in our culture.   Talking about sexuality and “private” body parts is routinely shrouded in shame-based avoidance or denigrated by exploitive humor.   

Something so natural and pleasant as sexuality is typically avoided or danced around in our culture.    It is something of a paradox since our bodies are so emblematic of who we are and how we see ourselves.   Yet we are so reluctant to genuinely share what would otherwise be expressive of what is and who we are.   

Speech mirrors cultural behavior. It is interesting to me how men and women play peekaboo with breasts.   We play a mutual game of going to great lengths to display and observe the shape of women’s breasts or reveal an abundance of skin.   We only stop at the ambivalence of how much nipple to display.   

The poverty of our sexual language in the culture reflects this ambivalence about bodies.   I am happy that some friends and I choose to embrace and even redeem sexual language.   This freedom of speech has begun to flow into my casual conversation with friends and we sometimes bravely talk about issues related to our sexuality. Speech need not be hamstrung by culture.

Soon after I was born, I learned to live in the world as I interpret it.  That activity is largely the work of my imagination.   How much I actually come close to seeing things as they are depends on my skills of observation, sometimes called mindfulness. 

It is easier to live in a world as imagined because it corresponds to my wants and fears.  It allows me to reach what I want and avoid what might harm me. I routinely grasp and avoid based on what I imagine, not on what I might observe if I ignored my wants and fears.  

No one is unique in choosing to live in a world as imagined.  It is a common practice. I think it takes becoming vulnerable to see the world as it is.  It takes letting go of our wants and fears to experience the world as seen and not as imagined.  

For me to surrender to the full force of a hug, I have to let go of my fear. If we each surrender, we both became vulnerable as we step out of our imagination.