[21/40] Paradoxicality

Paradoxicality

By Rabbi Brian Zachary Mayer

(This article is scheduled to be printed in Presence Journal this winter.)

Introduction, etymology, and some history

Paradoxicality. Chances are you aren't familiar with that spiritual-religious word. And that's understandable, given that it isn't used often. In fact, most dictionaries don't even provide a definition for it. Nonetheless, paradoxicality is one of the greatest tools for having an adult understanding of religion, the Bible and God.

The word “paradoxicality” is, as you might guess, related to the word “paradox,” which stems from the Greek para, which means “contrary to,” and doxa, which means “opinion.” A paradox is something that seems contradictory, but is in fact true. Paradoxicality is the state of being aware of, living in or understanding paradox.

The word “paradoxicality” originated in the scientific assessment of mystical experiences[1]; it was used to describe the nature of an event during which there was a positive experience with no positive content – an experience which is both something and nothing.

Paradoxicality is also the word used to describe the faith stage at which the world comes to seem less black-and-white and more either-or. It’s the stage at which it’s realized that the opposite of a truth can also be true.

We are going to explore paradoxicality first with regard to faith stages, and then examine it in more depth, starting out simple explanations and moving on to more complex ones.

But before we explore this notion any further, recall this experience that everyone occasionally has: You read a word and it just doesn't look right. Even though you know it’s spelled correctly, although you know the letters are in order, it just appears wrong.

That's a lot like the feeling you get after examining the concept of paradoxicality for a while – it just starts to feel a bit odd.

The Spiritual-Religious and Paradoxicality: Faith Stages

When paradoxicality is seen in the context of the following faith stages, those who understand it get further in their quest for understanding. Knowing how paradoxicality can be used as a tool in spiritual-religious practice normalizes people's experiences and gives them a place to which they can strive.

As we get older, we change; in our changing, our understanding of the world changes and so does our understanding of God. These faith stages are not linear, concrete steps that every person goes through in a specific order. And we can be – in fact, most of us are – in more than one stage at a time.

Magic. When we’re little, we believe in a world complete with fairies, demons and monsters. Magic happens and God is all-powerful. We don't understand what happens, and we are OK with that.

Reality. Then reality sets in. We learn about this grown-up world and start piecing it together. We still want to believe in magic, but at the same time are fascinated by finding out what is real. Order is important and we know that if something happens, then something caused it; we start seeing the world in terms of cause and effect. Consequently, God is involved in why things happen, although we can’t express this very well.

Dependence. Getting older, and better able to express things, we start to see God as we see our parents. Indeed, we see God as the ultimate parent. We long for relationships with adults who see, recognize and guide us; we crave structure and rules. God is thus seen as the fundamental adult, the One who gives reason to be moral, the one who put forth the religious doctrines that we do or do not follow. Often, we perceive that God is enthroned in Heaven. This is the classic image of God as Zeus – with white beard, throne and thunderbolts. This period peaks at around age 12.

Independence. Most people who define themselves as “spiritual, but not religious” stagnate in this stage, when God becomes distant or non-existent. By our late teens, we’ve found some authority within by which to make our own set of rules from those society has given us. We might have some spiritual bent to our lives, but by focusing on the historical reasoning for religious tradition, we deconstruct religion as utilitarian and claim no need for it. We disdain organized religion. We become demystification experts, seeking to intellectualize. Just letting go and enjoying what we don’t understand is not for us. Faith in something un-understandable (the non-rational) just doesn’t seem adult. Statistically, there are more men more than women in this stage. (In rabbinical school, I epitomized this stage of independence – I became a storehouse of heretical facts like someone who buys magic tricks just to find out how they work.)

Paradoxicality. With some work, adults may find that they can be tolerant of paradoxical meanings of religious symbols. People at this stage long for community and, at the same time, permission to take their own paths. What makes the paradoxicality stage scary – and what keeps people claiming contentment in the previous stage – is the realization that all of it is a hunch, that others might have opposite views and that that is OK. Those in paradoxicality, as opposed to those in independence, no longer feel the need to see themselves as unique – a jump the ego is loathe to make.

Unity. This final stage represents the true realization of the unconditional relatedness of all things. Paradoxicality gives glimpses into unity. When we hit unity, which many of us do from time to time, we notice that ego disappears and that we see God in everything and that God is everything. This is a state of oneness, of peace, of acceptance, of harmony, of God. (Words, obviously, can’t describe this stage, but hopefully, you’ve had a taste of it and understand what I'm talking about.)

You and the Faith Stages

Now take a moment to think about yourself and your life. While doing so, you’ll probably recognize that you’ve spent time in each stage – and that you are currently in more than one of them.

In a moment, I’ll ask you what percent of you is in each stage. But before I do, let me remind you that this is purely subjective and there are no right or wrong answers. (Actually, the only “wrong” answer is 16.67% in each stage – that’s a copout.) Let me point out that for whatever reason, people tend to find it easier to focus on where they used to be or where they think they should be rather than determining where they are now. I would like to remind you to look at where you are.

If you were to take a snapshot right at this moment, what would it look like?

Magic (Magical thinking): ___%

Reality (Cause-and-effect thinking): ___%

Dependence (God as celestial parent): ___%

Independence (God is dead, religion is a crock): ___%

Paradoxicality (Either-or / both-and thinking): ___%

Unity (At-one-ness): ___%

If your total doesn’t add up to exactly 100%, don’t sweat it – the spiritual-religious is more art than rocket science. If you haven’t written anything, I’ll ask you to pause for a moment, get a writing implement or address whatever it was that was stopping you, and to actually do the exercise. If, in the process, you experience self-castigation, doubt, false certainty, desire to look good, etc., just notice it. That's part of your process, not cause for alarm. And remember, any answer you put down is only for this moment in time. Your answers when you have finished this article and your answers in 10 years might be totally different. [My answers at this writing are: Magic 5%; Reality 10%; Dependence 15 %; Independence 20%; Paradoxicality 40 %; Unity 10%.]

We change as we live. Accordingly, our concept of God and our relationship to that God concept is going to change. Paradoxically speaking and with regard to our understanding of God, change is the only true constant.

Beginner Paradoxicality

Two years ago, my wife Jane injured her back so badly that she was on our bedroom floor in pain. As she slowly recovered, I took on a few of the household tasks that she usually does, like laundry.

Imagine this: I’m in the laundry room. On the left of me, a large, spread-out pile of dirty clothes litters the floor. Over time, that pile gets smaller as I run through loads. On the right of me, there grows an ever-increasing pile of clean clothes.

What I didn't know is that one should fold clothing as it comes out of the dryer to keep it from wrinkling. What I figured was that I would finish washing and drying all clothes, then fold everything at the end. The pile on the right, if you didn't smell it, looked very much like the pile on the left, which it now dwarfed.

Jane, having recovered enough to walk, saw the piles of clothing. From her perspective, I hadn’t even started the laundry – why else would everything still be in piles, instead of being one pile of dirty clothes and one folded stack of clean clothes? She became angry with me for not starting the laundry. Then I got angry with her for insinuating that I was lying and for not being appreciative of what I had done.

Paradox is defined as a statement or situation that seems to be contradictory, but in fact is true:

Was Jane right in thinking I hadn't done the laundry? Yes.

Was Jane wrong in thinking I hadn't done the laundry? Yes.

Was I right in thinking I had done the laundry? Yes.

Was I wrong in thinking I had done the laundry? Yes.

How did the story end? We had a laugh. And I learned that if you put clean-but-wrinkly clothes in the dryer with a wet hand towel for a cycle, the wrinkles come out.

Intermediate Paradoxicality

Think about things that might be blessings, like being the happiest person you know or having perfect pitch. Blessings, right? Well, they’re also curses.

How? If you are the happiest person you know, then everyone you meet will be less happy than you. If you have perfect pitch, far fewer tunes will sound passable to your ear. Blessings can be curses.

And curses can be blessings: I’ve known many people for whom a life-threatening disease has been a wake-up call to appreciate life and start living.

Curses can be blessings and blessings can be curses. Paradoxicality.

This is hard for children to understand – that the opposite of something that is true might also be true. While this may fly in the face of what we think of as real logic, it's true nonetheless. Good can be bad and bad can be good.

Paradoxicality is also found in language; words can be used to mean both one thing and that thing’s opposite. For example, fast means both “moving quickly” and “fixed firmly in place”; cleave means both “to adhere” and “to cut apart”; and dust means both “to remove fine particles” and “to add fine particles.” We colloquially use bad to mean “good” or smart to mean its opposite. In Hebrew, the verb krb (B’R’Ch) can mean both “blessed” and “cursed.”[2]

Intermediate/Advanced Paradoxicality

A classical, Jewish spiritual-religious practice attributed to Rabbi Simcha Bunam of P'shis'kha is that every person should carry two paper scraps, one which reads, “For me the whole of creation was made,” and the other which reads, “I am but dust and ashes.”[3]

The both – while contradictory – are true.

For a similar example, read the following two sentences: "The most can be had from the world by approaching it rationally," and "The most can also be had from the world by approaching it non-rationally." (Note that there is a difference between non-rational and irrational. Enjoying a sunset is non-rational; jumping off the top of a building to become part of the sunset is irrational.)

While each of the above sentences seem to be opposites, both are true. By approaching the world rationally – buying and selling the right stuff, for example – you can get the most from the world. And by approaching the world non-rationally – savoring a meal – you can get the most from the world.

It’s not that one is true and the other isn’t. Both are true at the same time. Paradoxicality.

Advanced Paradoxicality

Read this next paragraph. It’s a quotation by 4th century BCE philosopher Chuang-Tzu. (It’s really deep, so give yourself some time with it.)

Everything has its 'that,' everything has its 'this.' From the point of view of 'that' you cannot see it, but through understanding you can know it. So I say, 'that' comes out of 'this' and 'this' depends on 'that' – which is to say that 'this' and 'that' give birth to each other. But where there is birth there must be death; where there is death there must be birth. Where there is acceptability there must be unacceptability; where there is unacceptability there must be acceptability. Where there is recognition of wrong there must be recognition of right. Therefore the sage does not proceed in such a way, but illuminates all in the light of Heaven. The sage too recognizes a 'this,' but a 'this' which is also 'that.' A 'that' which is also 'this.' The 'that' has both right and wrong in it. So, in fact, does the sage still have a 'this' and 'that'? Or, in fact, is there no longer a 'this' and 'that'? A state in which 'this' and 'that' no longer find their opposites is called the hinge of the Way. When the hinge is fitted into the socket, it can respond endlessly. Its right then is a single endlessness and its wrong too is a single endlessness. So, I say, the best thing to use is clarity.

Paradoxicality, as you see, runs counter to the childish human desire to keep it all very simple – that this is simply this and that this is not that. We might prefer that there be a simple right and a wrong, a this and a that, but it doesn't work that way. (Or this way?)

Good is never just good and bad is never just bad. Our society would rather pretend that the world is "black and white," "good and bad," "us and them." But, it's not… and we know that.

Jewish and Christian examples

Let me provide examples from organized religion that I use to help people to understand the idea of paradoxicality: the wine of communion and the matzah of Passover. (I find that because of spiritual-religious baggage, Jews can better understand the Christian example and Christians the Jewish.)

Catholics maintain that communion wine is transubstantiated into the blood of Jesus, while participants in a Passover meal eat unleavened bread because they were slaves in Egypt.

Scientifically, rationally, empirically and cognitively, we know that the communion wine doesn’t really become the blood of Jesus, and that the people sitting around tables today weren't actually slaves in Egypt. But to the religious person who understands paradoxicality, while these things aren't really true, they also are. The communion wine isn’t the blood and, at the same time, it is the blood. And I eat the matzah knowing that I was and that I never was a slave in Egypt.

The Spiritual-Religious and Paradoxicality

How does this all relate to spiritual-religious practice? My grandfather used to say, “If two people in business always agree, one of them is not necessary.” The tension between two points of view can lead to a third, unexpected one.

Paradoxicality requires us to step outside the box of established perception. To what end? To see that there is more than we thought was there – and that most of what we think “is” is not much more than opinion. (Buddhism and Zen are sometimes taught through paradox because paradox is beyond linear thought, and the practice of playing with paradox helps refine the skill of letting go of thinking.)

Wisdom begins with unlearning that which we thought we knew. If you are going to come to a new, adult understand of religion, you are going to have loosen up on what you thought you knew.

If we are certain that “there is no God,” then we have, in a sense, made a god out of not-God. When we are certain that God is love and good, do we preclude hate and evil from being in God's world? If we believe that the Bible is true, does that mean that it can't also be not-true? Is there no space for middle ground?

Not this, not that, but both this and that.

And neither.

We have to open our minds beyond their limits and see that while we are limited, we are also unlimited.

With love,

Rabbi Brian

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Rabbi Brian is a teacher and the Chief Religious Officer of Religion-Outside-The-Box (www.rotb.org), an Internet-based non-denominational congregation. His first book is entitled, How To Find Out What (The) God (Of Your Understanding) Wants From You.

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[1] In addition to paradoxicality, some other named attributes of mystical experiences include being ineffable (indescribable), godly (non-spatial and non-temporal with a feeling of the holy or divine), causing someone to be noetic (receptive to an experience as a valid source of knowledge) and creating a sense of oneness or ego-loss.

[2] Job 1:5; 1:11, Job 2:5, Job 2:9, etc. — And, yes, this can make biblical interpretation very tricky.

[3] Job 42:6

And, if you care to, click here to see comments on the streetprophets site where this article also went up this week.

[19/40] Perspective in Baking Bread

Perspective: Baking Bread

My friend Nagy is a Zen priest who volunteers in correctional facilities.

He told me about something he does that I want to share with you.

I will ask an inmate, "What's your job here?"

Let's say they answer me, "I bake bread."

I tell them, "No, that is not what you do."

When they look up at me for clarification, I explain, "You don't bake bread, you provide nourishment for the community."

Perspective can snap us out of our regular way of seeing the world and help us to see the world anew. (The word perspective is defined as "an assessment of a situation which relates the comparative importance of elements.")

For example until recently, my least favorite day of the year was winter solstice — the darkest day of the year. When my friend Julie sent me an article about a pilgrimage to Mecca on that day celebrates it as the longest night of the year, something switched in my head and it all changed. (I'm still a little upset about summer solstice as I know that after it I lose a little sunlight each day.)

Perspective!

As we know, perspective can turn a half-full glass of water half-empty, and back again.

In a lesson that Nagy knows well after ordaining a few inmates who have taken Bodhisattva vows and become monks, perspective can turn a prison into a monastery — and, we ought to be aware, the other way around.

With hopes that you feel comfortable with your place in this world and love,

Rabbi Brian

And, if you care to, click here to see comments on the streetprophets site where this article also went up this week.

[18/40] Nice Effort

Nice effort!

Perhaps you've seen the recent studies about the effect of praise by psychologist Carol S. Dweck. (A variation of it seems to be in every parenting magazine I read recently.) Her work paints a very interesting picture.

In her study, some students were praised for their innate intelligence and some for their effort.

Then, the students were given a test. A test, unbeknownst to them, that was two years ahead of their grade level.

Predictably, they all failed.

The former — those praised for their intelligence — were devastated. They assumed that the test proved that they weren't smart at all.

The later — those praised for their effort — weren't fazed by failing the test. They simply assumed that they hadn't focused hard enough on the test.

With regard to your spiritual-religious life, I would like to continue to encourage in your efforts.

Getting to find and be with (the) God (of your understanding) is nothing easy — many of the greatest minds who ever lived have struggled with this. Even Mother Teresa struggled with her faith — so know that you’re in good company.

Moreover, according to the Bible — and let’s leave Biblical baggage aside for a moment; I’m just making a cool point — after one of Abraham's grandsons spends a sleepless night wrestling with God, God changes his name from Jacob to Yis'ra'el — which means "struggles with God" or "fights with God." As I see it, that’s all of us — each of us, every day struggles, fights and wrestles with, defeats, and is defeated by God. Struggling with God, struggling with the question of God's existence, struggling with the role of God in one's life — none of us ever has full certainty with regard to God.

So, keep making the effort.

Seek out a relationship with (the) God (of your understanding).

After all, it won’t happen on its own.

With love,

Rabbi Brian

And, if you care to, click here to see comments on the streetprophets site where this article also went up this week.

[17/40] Loving Yourself and Others

Loving yourself and others.

Would you tell someone that they look terrible?

Do you routinely tell people that they ought to dress differently, live somewhere else, or eat different foods?

Can you imagine telling a stranger that they ought to have achieved more than they have?

Have you ever done any of these things to yourself?

Most spiritual-religious traditions advocate loving God, loving your neighbor, and loving yourself.

I think it's a good idea, too.

With love,

Rabbi Brian

And, if you care to, click here to see comments on the streetprophets site where this article also went up this week.

[16/40] Control or Suffer

Control — or suffer!
If you have ever felt a bit under the weather and stared glassy-eyed at the myriad of choices of over-the-counter cold remedies available at a pharmacy, you know how overwhelming choices can be.

This “confusion of choice” was recently proven in a study where doctors were asked what they would choose for a patient who seemed to need surgery but had one non-surgical, medical option that could be tried first. Almost 50% said they would have the patient try the non-surgical option. But when the same situation was presented again, this time with two non-surgical options, the percentage of doctors who said they would have the patient try either non-surgical choice dropped to just over 25%!

Choices can be overwhelming.

While we often say we want freedom and choice, we often crave the opposite — the security of certainty. There is a part of us that wants the world to be simple, this or that, good or bad, us or them, black or white, either or.

Seeming certainty is part of why rigid religious dogma and the notion that of a deity in control of everything are appealing to so many people. (Remember: wanting something to be true doesn't make it true.)

Here is one of my favorite phrases:

Dubium incommodum est. Certum ridiculum est.

Translated this means:

Uncertainty is uncomfortable. Certainty is ridiculous.

We know that the world isn't certain — there seem to be a multitude of choices for us to make at almost every moment.

And that creates anxiety. Andrew Oswald, a professor at Warwick University, wrote something I think we all instinctively know. He wrote: "Lack of control is what tends to induce stress in human beings."

Our perceived lack of control is why we love routines.
(And that's also why we hate traffic and airplane delays — we're not in control.)

Most of us are pretty horrible at not being in control.

While I'm fine with pockets of lack of control — like allowing myself to feel out of control on a roller coaster or to not censor my dreams when they start to get scary. (This dream one is a relatively new ability for me.) As far as a general lack of control — the hallmarks of the spiritual-religious notions of surrender and faith — I'm not so willing.

So let me hereby advocate that we all try again — as absurd as it might seem, let’s try to get comfortable with our lack of control.

Kick back.

Enjoy the ride.

Relax as much as you can.

Neither you nor I are in control.


With love,

Rabbi Brian

And, if you care to, click here to see comments on the streetprophets site where this article also went up this week.

Note

[15/40] Not Do

Stop!

Part of the human condition seems to be that we try to improve everything around us — that we are infrequently content with the realities of life.

We try to improve things... but why?

Often it’s because it makes us feel important and involved.

We needn't do so much.

Really.

It’s important to take some time off the proverbial hamster wheel so that we can see life as it is — and so that we can get some perspective on the rat race we often find ourselves living.

There is a Zen term called WuWei which is applicable in this situation. It translates as non-striving. There is also a Jewish concept called Shabbat that translates similarly.

We need to not-do.

We need to rest so that we can get some perspective on our doing.

We need to take a break from/a time-out from our instinctive need to improve.

I'm making a challenge to myself this week to "not-do" for seven hours. (Just an hour a day...)

And I challenge you to make a similar commitment.

How you spend your not-doing time is up to you — it's your spiritual-religious life after all. (If you’re stuck, here's a web-link with some ideas)

For the love of God, stop!

With love,

Rabbi Brian

And, if you care to, click here to see comments on the streetprophets site where this article also went up this week.

Note: According to studies, timesaving innovations like dishwashers, vacuum cleaners, lawnmowers, and take-out food have allowed us to gain more non-work time. And what did the study say is done with most of that time? TV watching.

[11/40] Was it better?

Was it better?

I don't know about you, but recently I've been hearing, over-hearing, and participating in a lot of talk about "the good ol' days."

People blather on about how the price of things used to be reasonable or how you used to be able to do this or that and it wasn't a problem, but now... well, now you just can't buy things like you used to and you can't just do things the way that you used to.

I wonder why this is happening right now.

Is it a spring-time thing or perhaps an election year thing? What has happened or is happening that is causing us as a society to LONG for a mythical past when the way things were better, easier, more honest...

(I don't really know the answer and would love your thoughts...)

All I can tell you is that the past always seems more comfortable than the present. The worries we had in the past don't seem as scary as the worries that we have today. From a logical point of view, this is because the future of the past is the present and therefore not as worrisome as the future of the present which is an unknown.

Seems like a good time to get comfortable with the spiritual-religious practices of faith (1, 2, 3, 4), surrender (1, 2), and acceptance (1).

With love,

Rabbi Brian

And, if you care to, click here to see comments on the streetprophets site where this article also went up this week.

[10/40] It's Between You & God

It's between you and God.

Religious laws are typically divided into two categories: those between a person and his or her fellow person and those between a person and his or her understanding of God.

-between a person and his or her fellow person

• The laws that fit in the former category are rules of conduct: statutes about what a society or culture will and won’t tolerate.

-between a person and his or her understanding of God.

• The laws that fit in the later category are rules that apply to the heart of a spiritual-religious life: resting, worshiping, dietary restrictions, et cetera.

While religious institutions and cultural groups tend to be fairly strict with regard to the laws between a person and his or her fellow person — there can be (and historically always has been) more leniency in the interpretation of those between a person and his or her understanding of God.

My job as the Chief Religious Officer of Religion-Outside-The-Box is to encourage you to interpret religious laws in a way that makes sense to you. Especially the ones between you and your conceptualization of the divine.

We’re talking about you and what you do with regard to your spiritual-religious life.

So, to quote the Psalms, “Sing God a new song.”

Take your spiritual-religious life into your own hands.

• Take time to “not do” that makes sense to you.
• Worship as your soul moves you to worship.
• Eat foods (and refrain from eating foods) that will help you to elevate your consciousness.

What you do in your spiritual-religious life is between you and (the) God (of your understanding).

Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.

With love,

Rabbi Brian

And, if you care to, click here to see comments on the streetprophets site where this article also went up this week.

[09/40] Abundance

A quip.

My friend Jon is a writer.

He wrote something I wanted to share with you.

It's an untitled, one-line, spiritual-religious poem.

Here it is:

There's an abundance of it in the universe, on the shelf in the back, behind the brand new fear display.

Amen, Jon.

We would all do well to remember that while fear is often the cover story, our lives as they are contain (for the most part) enough.

With love,

Rabbi Brian

And, if you care to, click here to see comments on the streetprophets site where this article also went up this week.

[08/40] Comfort

Ergonomics, comfort, and some spiritual-religious thoughts.

Three spiritual-religious things to ponder on the topic of comfort.

Privative Theory

The folks who design chairs will tell you that the best definition of comfort is an absence of discomfort. When I first reflected on this my reaction was, "Really, that's the best definition there is for comfort — not being uncomfortable?"

But sometimes that is the best way of knowing something — knowing that it isn't something else. (This is known in philosophical circles as privative theory .)

In the spiritual-religious world, it happens quite a lot. The biggest example is the definition of evil as the absence of good, and the definition of God as the absence of evil.

Outside of theology, we often define ourselves, not by what we have and are, but by what we want and lack — how backwards is that? We ought to be more aware of what we have and are more than we are aware of what we aren’t and don't have.

Moreover, a lot of people define themselves on the spiritual-religious spectrum based on not being, believing, or doing like others do. I know a lot of people who believe that Judaism is the "un-Christianity" — so, if Christians believe in the devil, heaven or that the messiah has come, then Jews aren’t supposed to. And I know other people who are spiritual-but-not-religious — if they think that “religious” people use the word God, these folks will use any word but.

(F.Y.I. with regard to Judaism being the un-Christianity, it might astound you to learn that none of the above assumptions are correct. Judaism, actually is replete with a long history of all of these “un-Jewish” things: a belief in the devil, heaven, and a messiah. For example, in the 1800s, 60% of world Jewry believed that Shabbitai Tzvi was the living messiah. And, today, many Lubavitch Jews believe that the late Rabbi Menachem Schneerson was and is moshiach — the messiah.)

Here is a quote attributed to Laozi and Tao Te Ching with regard to openness and the importance of not thinking so concretely about the world:

Unawareness of one’s feet is the mark of shoes that fit. Unawareness of one’s waist is the mark of a belt that fits. Unawareness of right and wrong is the mark of a mind at ease.

Comfort and attitude

A recent study on the coziness of airline seats showed a direct correlation between the friendliness of the crew and complaints about the seats. The less friendly the crew, the more complaints about the comfort of the seats; the more friendly the crew, the fewer people who noticed the seats.

It’s the warmth and kindness of the crew makes the seats more comfortable, not their size.

We all know how friendly dispositions — ours or others — melt problems whereas snarkiness causes more.

Being uncomfortable

There seems to be an unspoken and unwritten notion that we ought not feel any discomfort in our lives.

Where did we get the idea that we oughtn't ever be uncomfortable?

Where does this notion come from?

Our compulsive, constant pursuit of comfort and avoidance of discomfort will always disappoint us as we will never be able to achieve a cessation from suffering. (If this sounds vaguely Buddhist, you would be right.)

There is no such thing as a life free of discomfort.

So, as a spiritual-religious exercise, I would advocate that we all take some time in this next week to get a little more comfortable with our discomfort.

Really.

We ought to.

We might as well get used to it.

Fighting it isn't going to work.

Our discomfort is going to be with us for a while — no matter how cushy your chair or how nice the flight attendants are.

With love,

Rabbi Brian

And, if you care to, click here to see comments on the streetprophets site where this article also went up this week.

[07/40] Magi-tude

Magi-tude.
(a word I invented combining the words “magic” and “attitude”)

I experienced magic recently.

Real magic.

It wasn't a card trick.

It wasn't a coincidence.

It wasn't something non-magical that only seemed magical.

It was true magic — something impossible becoming possible, actual, real.

Let me tell you what happened.

My friend John mentioned that he often puts the things that he is not grateful for on his gratitude lists.

I’ve mentioned the importance of gratitude and listing out things for which we are grateful in past articles. [1, 2, 3, 4]

I thought John’s idea was a funny: Put the things you aren't grateful for on the list of things you are grateful for? Why would anyone in their right mind do that?

Nonetheless, I like John, he seems sane, and it seemed like an interesting idea worth trying.

So I tried it.

I was particularly grumpy that day that Emmett woke up at 5:45am and so I started with that.

"My petty grievance list today starts,” I told John, “with the fact that my son woke up at 5:45 in the morning." I took a moment and continued, “And so, I’ll turn that around and say that I am grateful for..." and then I stopped, involuntarily. I hemmed and hawed. I couldn't get the words “I’m grateful that my son woke up at 5:45 in the morning” to flow out of my mouth. It was as though I was going to say, "My name is Joaquin," or something else that I knew wasn't true.

Maybe I had gotten so comfortable in my grievances about Emmett waking up before the dawn, that I didn't want to part with it? I don’t know why, but I had a quick pep talk with myself: Just say the words — even if you don't believe them.

So I did.

"I am grateful that my son woke up at 5:45 in the morning."

And that's when the magic happened.

Saying the words released me.

Nothing had changed, yet it was different.

Magic.

Attitudinal magic just by saying words I didn’t think I believed: magitude.

I urge you to give it a try.

Take one thing off your petty grievance list and say out loud that you are thankful for it.

What — besides something that aggravates you — do you have to lose?


With love,


Rabbi Brian

And, if you care to, click here to see comments on the streetprophets site where this article also went up this week.

[06/40] 1-800-Dial-God

1-800-Dial-God

The mission statement of Religion-Outside-The-Box is to empower people to find and be with (the) God (of their understanding).

Many people tell me that they aren't certain how to begin — that getting in touch with God seems difficult or hard.

In this regard, I have three wonderful opportunities for you.

1. Write

Until recently, the Heaven Request Form was only available at seminary libraries. But thanks to the Internet, that form is now available for download. Should you care to give your feedback about the running of the universe, please click here to download the pdf.

2. Phone

Simply enter the phone number at which you would like to be contacted and God or one of the archangels will get in touch with your immediately. (Really.)

(If you do not see a graphic into which you can enter your phone number, CLICK HERE.)

(When you click, you'll immediately receive a call from (225) 522-4116 — apparently there is some angelic field office in Louisiana — just answer the phone!)

3. E-mail

Write an e-mail!

What could be easier.

Just click here.

If you didn’t —

1) download and fill out a comment card

2) click to be connected with the heavens

or

3) send an e-mail

I highly encourage you as a spiritual-religious exercise to think about what you would do if you were going to...


With love,


Rabbi Brian

And, if you care to, click here to see comments on the streetprophets site where this article also went up this week.

(33/40) More and Enough

Lynne Twist, in her book The Soul of Money, cautions that we in America face a perception problem with regard to quantity. She explains that we all are so bombarded with messages of "more" that we lose sight of the beauty and simplicity of the spiritual-religious concept of sufficiency.

She is right. Every day, we receive a barrage that encourages us to envision our lives as better if only we had more things.

But we don't need more. Really. We don't.

I'm not advocating that we don't need things; of course we do. I'm not arguing that the goal of a spiritually fulfilled life is that of an ascetic – characterized by abstinence from worldly pleasures.

What I want you to do is to take a moment to contemplate sufficiency. Sufficiency is the idea that something is enough just how it is. Sufficiency is the notion that nothing else is needed. Sufficiency is a beautiful concept.

Contemplate, just for this moment, that you have exactly what you need. Let your mind dwell on the idea that there isn't anything additional that you require. Contemplate enoughness. Feel filled and full.

While we know, at least right in this moment, that we have enough, most of us aren't really comfortable staying in this feeling for long. The sensation of wholeness is foreign, and we find ourselves wandering from the sufficiency of the now to worrying about the future and fretting about the past. We go back to thinking about how we would feel complete if only we only had this or did that.

Here is a poem that touches on this:

• I am so blessed
• That I often
• Don’t know what to do.
• (The answer, of course, is getting quiet, letting life happen around me, enjoying life, giving thanks, and praising God. Most often, I would rather find something else to do.)

Our nationalized day to be grateful is coming up. How wonderful is that? Our society has said, “Hey, let’s have the last Thursday in November be a day of gratitude.” We have this opportunity to, as a culture, think about appreciation and sufficiency.

Let me tell you what changes the glass we see from seeming half-full to appearing half-empty: our attitude. While it might seem like a platitude, our gratitude depends on our attitude. Judaism, the tradition in which I was ordained as a rabbi, suggests that people say 100 blessings a day – it's not a bad idea. Scientists have incontrovertibly proven that the simple act of listing what we are grateful for improves the quality of one's life.

Ask yourself: What are you joyful that you can do? What are you glad that you have? What are you thankful for? Once you answer these questions, your senses of appreciation and calm should rise. (If you want, listing more things for which you are thankful.)

Making a gratitude list is a wonderful thing to do – it reminds you of what (and who) you have, as opposed to what (and who) you lack. Moreover, the attitude of gratitude is contagious and said to attract good things.

When we have gratitude for what we have, we start to see glimpses of sufficiency. When we experience feelings of sufficiency, we feel like we belong in this world exactly as we are. Gratitude is, in effect, saying "Thank you, world." And, when you express your thanks to the universe, you give God and the universe the opportunity to say to you, "You are welcome."

How beautiful! We are welcome in this world. We belong – exactly as we are.

I pray that each of us, especially during this season of holy days, remembers to express gratitude. I pray that we realize that we don't need to compulsively fill ourselves with more. I pray that we realize that we are welcome, that we belong, that we are sufficient.

With love,


Rabbi Brian

And, if you care to, click here to see comments on the streetprophets site where this article also went up this week.

(32/40) Doing vs. Having Done.

Doing vs. Having Done.

On the web I have seen Dorothy Parker and Gloria Steinem and William Zinsser and Oscar Madison and Ernest Hemingway all attributed as having said, "I don't like writing, I like having written." (I couldn't figure out the "real" author...)

What I want us to do is to play a sort of Mad Libs-type game of "switch the verb."

There are many activities that we like having done, but don't particularly like doing.

• I don't like __________, I like having _________.

Here's a list of some of mine:

• I don't like exercising, I like having exercised.
• I don't like cleaning the house, I like having cleaned.
• I don't like paying my bills, I like having paid bills.
• I don't like doing emotional growth work, I like having done emotional growth work.

This is a problem we all face in our lives . . . not wanting to have to do the tough stuff.

What are the things in your life you would rather be done with?

Chances are, one or two of them are things you know you ought to be doing . . .

For encouragement, I would like to quote Robert Frost,

The best way out is always through.

I pray that we each have the courage to persevere until we reach the place where the tasks we need to do are no longer looming in front of us, and we can be proud in having done them.

Amen.

With love,


Rabbi Brian

And, if you care to, click here to see comments on the streetprophets site where this article also went up this week.

(31/40) Apocalypse far!

Apocalypse far!
The end isn't happening, yet.

We human beings are curious to know how things will wind up. I understand that. Eschatology is about just that. Eschatology, a subdivision of the intersection of theology and philosophy, deals with the final events of history — the apocalypse or end of days!

Some folk, like Sir Isaac Newton believed the world would end pretty soon. (According to his calculations, it would be in the year 2060.)

Others maintain that the Earth will end when it is 6,000 years old. (FYI: according to the Hebrew calendar, the earth just turned 5768 years old.)

According to either of these calculations, the end of the world isn't going to happen for years!

You and I will probably die before it happens.

That might just put things into perspective, no?

Remember the y2k fears that were widespread toward the end of the year 1999 and how so many were convinced life as we know it was about to end?

The world is not ending tomorrow or next week. Or even next month.

And it's definitely not going to end if you don't finish that project you’ve been stressed out about working on.

Really.

I promise.

The Halloween after September 11, 2000 I decided to wear a sandwich board costume that read, “The end isn’t near, learn to live with it.”

That's my mini-moral here...

Get through life. Do your best.
Live your life as fully as you can, for as long as you can.

With love,


Rabbi Brian


And, if you care to, click here to see comments on the streetprophets site where this article also went up this week.

(29/40) Mangos.

If you plant a mango seed,
don't expect an orange tree.

As simple as this concept seems, we all manage to forget it from time to time.

We all occasionally plant mango trees and expect oranges.

(This is a metaphor . . . you knew that, right? We're not really talking about fruit trees here.)

• The person who hasn't done us a good turn in years probably will not all of a sudden go out of their way for us.
• If being honest with loved ones has been difficult for us in the past, it isn't miraculously going to get easier.
• The doctor won't have the best report for us if we have failed to take care of our health.

Folks, it's pretty simple: if you plant a mango seed, don't expect an orange tree, expect mangos.

With love,


Rabbi Brian


And, if you care to, click here to see comments on the streetprophets site where this article also went up this week.

(28/40) Can't Do Attitude.

God, I'm tired.

I'm just tired.

I'm tired of working so hard, being a harsh task master in my own life, expecting so much of myself.

God, please help me adopt a bit of a "Can't Do" Attitude.

Help me to feel less competent.
Help me to not expect so much.
Help me to have compassion, kindness and gentleness with myself.

God, help me really get in touch with the attitude of surrender I wrote about a few weeks ago.

I can't do this alone.

I just can't.

And, I thank you for your help.


With love,


Rabbi Brian

---

A related morality tale.

There is a story that I remember hearing about a little boy who asks his mother, "Do you think I can lift that large rock over there."

"Yes," says the mother, "I am certain you can lift it if you use all of your strength."

The boy saunters over to the rock, attempts to lift it, but is unable.

"I couldn't do it," he reports to his mother.

"But you didn't use all your strength," the wise woman remarks.

He leans down, grunts, and still is unsuccessful.

"I used all my strength that time, but I still couldn't," he says.

"To use all your strength," the mother says while leaning down to pick up the rock with him, "sometimes means asking for help."

And, if you care to, click here to see comments on the streetprophets site where this article also went up this week.

(27/40) Suffering.

Is your suffering dear to you?

A question popped into my head a few weeks ago.

Every time I heard myself complain, or someone else utter a grievance, it would come to mind: "Is your suffering dear to you?"

As crazy as it might seem, I am attached to certain aspects of my misery. For example, I hold fast to, and even enjoy, the idea that I'm terminally unique — that I don't fit in well with groups. And honestly, this is a misery I don’t feel like giving up. This suffering is dear to me. I get mileage out of it!

So, I want to ask the same question of you: "Is your suffering dear to you?"

Let's face it, our problems often define us and anything that defines us — while spiritually it’s perhaps not the best idea to hold onto these things — makes us feel like we exist.

Georges Ivanovich Gurdjieff, a 19th & 20th century Armenian-Greek mystic, wrote:

"Another thing that people must sacrifice is their suffering. It is very difficult also to sacrifice one's suffering. A man will renounce any pleasures you like but he will not give up his suffering. Man is made in such a way that he is never so much attached to anything as he is to his suffering. And it is necessary to be free from suffering. No one who is not free from suffering, who has not sacrificed his suffering, can work. Later on a great deal must be said about suffering. Nothing can be attained without suffering but at the same time one must begin by sacrificing suffering. Now, decipher what this means." (Emphasis added.)

About a week after the phrase "Is your suffering dear to you?" surfaced in my consciousness, I realized where it came from. I knew this phrase from a passage of Talmud I had studied 15 years ago in which two holy men were interacting and one asks the other, "Is your suffering dear to you?"

I looked up the Hebrew-Aramaic tale in Brachot 5b and saw the response given: "Neither it nor its reward."

What does that mean? The explanation is this: in the ancient world it was commonly believed that God compensated people in the-world-to-come for their suffering in this world. That is, the more your suffered in this world and the more nobly you endured your suffering, the greater reward you could expect in heaven!

With love,


Rabbi Brian


And, if you care to, click here to see comments on the streetprophets site where this article also went up this week.

(26/40) Surrender.

Surrender.

Surrender, a religious-spiritual counterpart to the notion of fate, seems very un-American.

Nonetheless, of the practice of regularly taking some time off from controlling our world in order to surrender to life and to live it on life's terms is the basis of almost every religious-spiritual tradition.

Surrender is something we all know deep in our hearts we ought to do more often . . .

Here are my two favorite quotes about surrendering:

• True religion is surrender. (Muhammad)
• Doubts arise because of an absence of surrender. (Ramana Maharshi)

As a little exercise, I'm going to suggest that we take a moment to explore the notion that we could be more fated than our egos would like to believe.

Just for fun, let's dive in.

An Exercise in Surrender
Consider for a moment that you don't have freedom of will and allow yourself to surrender to life.

(I promise you don't have to do this for longer than the 117 words in this exercise.)

Think about the following:

• Maybe some of the things you thought were in your control weren't.
• Maybe nature and nurture have conspired to make you exactly who you are at this moment.
• Maybe I was fated to become a rabbi, write my thesis on freedom of will, write this exercise, and you were fated to read it.
• Maybe you are supposed to be exactly where you are at this very moment reading these words.
• Maybe you are supposed to be wearing exactly what you are wearing.
• Maybe you are breathing exactly as you are supposed to be breathing.
• Maybe you are doing exactly what you are supposed to be doing.

How does that feel? How does it feel to entertain the notion that you don't have complete freedom of choice — that you are doing exactly that which you are supposed to be doing?

Now, let me ask you one more very important question:

If everything were happening according to some giant plan — and not one over which you had any control — do you think you would be more or less relaxed?

A Charge & Conclusion
What I've started to do on Friday nights is to prepare myself mentally for what I refer to as "Surrender Saturday." I try each Saturday to see how well I can just "let go and let God."

It's not so easy. But it's also not that hard, as long as I remember that it’s a practice — the word practice by definition means it isn't something I ought to have mastery over.

I would like to conclude by reiterating the notion that we live somewhere between strict determinism and absolute freedom, in a beautiful balance like the one suggested by the Serenity Prayer:

God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change; courage to change the things I can; and wisdom to know the difference.

Amen.

With love,


Rabbi Brian


And, if you care to, click here to see comments on the streetprophets site where this article also went up this week.

(25/40) Spiritual Escapism

Spiritual Escapism.

There is serious, rampant religious-spiritual problem that I want to address: SPIRITUAL ESCAPISM.

Spiritual escapism is a notion advocated by the famous Bing Crosby song Mister In-Between.

You've got to accentuate the positive
Eliminate the negative
Latch on to the affirmative
Don't mess with Mister In-Between

You've got to spread joy up to the maximum
Bring gloom down to the minimum
Have faith or pandemonium
Liable to walk upon the scene

But, is this true? Should we force ourselves to find silver linings in every dark cloud?

As you have noticed, I'm a big proponent of the importance of attitude. After all, we don't need to let a parking ticket ruin our day, but I do think there are limits and restrictions to how much "magic" we should expect our minds to perform in "turning that frown upside down."

Let me give an example: recently, I was driving and traffic was backed up. (I know, big surprise since I live in LA.) I got off the freeway and took surface streets, which turned out to be much worse. I was stuck. Sitting there, starting to get anxious that I would be late, I told myself to "turn it around." So I looked out my window at the big old tree I was now parked next to. Regarding its beauty, I told myself to be grateful that I was able to see that which on any other day I would have sailed past.

Great, right? Unfortunately, all I did was tuck my frustration away. I didn't get rid of it, I just bottled it up for another occasion. I can’t say if it directly caused the snippy attitude I had with a customer service representative later in the day or the pain in my lower back that night; but I do know that frustration not expressed has to go somewhere, it’s as unavoidable as Newton's first law of thermodynamics.

What I'm advocating is much simpler (albeit more difficult) than manipulating our experiences through spiritual escapism . . . I'm suggesting the religious-spiritual notion of living and being present to reality as it happens. In other words, being frustrated when we are frustrated, angry when we are angry, happy when we are happy, sad when we are sad. Just to experience our lives as they happen, not to judge them.

Of course, this is simpler to say than to do. The point is that in our daily lives, emotions inevitably come up that we don't like. But we have the choice to live them or deny them.

Don't succumb to spiritual escapism. A healthy spiritual life is not a way of avoiding human suffering or other "negative" emotions.

Be where you are, as you are.

With love,



Rabbi Brian


And, if you care to, click here to see comments on the streetprophets site where this article also went up this week.