Currently reading “The Book” by Alan Watts – a stunning essay on “the taboo against knowing who you are.”

In particular, he offers a devastating critique for any looking to “change the world”:

“The startling truth is that our best efforts for civil rights, international peace, population control, conservation of natural resources, and assistance to the starving of the earth -urgent as they are – will destroy rather than help if made in the present spirit.

For, as things stand, we have nothing to give.

If our own riches and our own way of life are not enjoyed here, they will not be enjoyed anywhere else. Certainly they will supply the immediate jolt of energy and hope that methedrine, and similar drugs, give in extreme fatigue. But peace can be made only by those who are peaceful, and love can be shown only by those who love.

No work of love will flourish out of guilt, fear, or hollowness of heart, just as no valid plans for the future can be made by those who have no capacity for living now.”

View more Alan Watts clips here.

Norman Fischer, a Zen teacher recently returned from a meditation retreat, offers his views on why it’s important to tackle life’s problems head on.

If you live long enough you will discover the great secret we all hate to admit: life is inherently tough. Difficult things happen. You lose your job or your money or your spouse. You get old, you get sick, you die.

You slog through your days beleaguered and reactive even when there are no noticeable disasters — a normal day has its many large and small annoyances, and the world, if you care to notice, and it is difficult not to, is burning.

The people at the retreat were not in crisis — at least no more than anyone else. They are people who have made the practice of Zen meditation a regular part of their daily routine, and come here not to forget about their troubles and pressures, but for the opposite reason: to meet them head on, to digest and clarify them. Why would they want to do this?

Because it turns out that facing pain — not denial, not running in the opposite direction — is a practical necessity.

Read the full piece here.

“You are all here tonight, because you are here,” began Adyashanti, a spiritual teacher speaking in St. Andrew’s church in downtown Vancouver last Tuesday.

“Why did you come? It doesn’t matter. What matters is you are here.”

Adyashanti sat behind a microphone, with close to two hundred faces watching him from the pews. I occupied a seat on the side, accompanied by a friend. Some of the attendees closed their eyes, attempting to focus more on the words than the man himself.

He appeared in his late 40′s, quiet and unassuming with a shaved head and piercing eyes. He proceeded to speak on the nature of the universe, the spiritual quest, and the problem with wanting to “know the unknowable.”

I appreciated his words and his occasional jokes. (At one point he compared the human body to a 1970′s Cadillac: we love to consume). If you’ve read any Eckhart Tolle then you understand much of Adyashanti’s philosophy on ego and awareness.

It wasn’t until the end of the talk and the beginning of the question period that the evening really felt alive.

The first attendee approached the mic, wasting no time in spilling her words. She confessed she’d spent 20 years as a Christian minister. But recently, she’d had an epiphany which caused her to abandon the church and seek our her own spiritual path.

“It’s just…I don’t know where to turn…or to look. I can’t stop thinking about it…” She barely managed to contain her tears, bordering on hysteria. “My mind… I can’t stop my mind from trying to know…”

Adyashanti addressed her concerns with a variety of questions about this desire. Moments of silence were punctuated by glimmers of clarity. After 10 minutes she had calmed, at least enough to whisper, “Thank you…” before sitting down.

The next speaker took the mic. “So this is what it feels like,” he remarked. “I… I don’t really have a question. I just felt I needed to come up here.”

Adyashanti waited patiently.

“I guess I feel like I’m on the right path, but can’t seem to stay there.”

And so it went. Question after question from attendees who desired an answer to their search. They practically dripped with craving; they were intoxicated with the possibilty of insight. They were like addicts to the truth.

It wasn’t long before it became obvious: Adyashanti could not give them the truth. He said as much. “I cannot give you the answer, I can only lead you to find the answer within yourself.”

It stuck me: where does this need to know come from?

Obviously, the very fact I was there meant that I’m a “seeker” – insofar as I’m not content with sitting back and coasting through life without attempting to answer the difficult questions.

But the irony was apparent. At least for these attendees, the “desire to know” appeared more important than the true aim of any spiritual journey: to simply enjoy the ride.

A recent article in the local paper “Breathing or Buddhism, parents ask” highlights a few parents who are upset their children are being taught “religion” in school.

“We’re concerned that mindful education is a Buddhist practice masquerading as science at the school,” Rebecca Kavanagh said yesterday. She and her husband believe the program contravenes the B.C. School Act, which prohibits the teachings of religious dogmas or creeds in public schools [...]

I’ll admit, I like Buddhism. Since I first began studying it over 4 years ago, it stuck a chord that just feels right. But while its iconography is not for everyone, the technique of insight meditation is invaluable to all.

Unfortunately, many people wrongly classify the technique as a religion, even though it’s much closer to a practical philosophy.

That said, the controversial school program doesn’t even touch on the cosmology of Buddhism. Rather, it stresses the technique of mindfulness.

In the program, students are asked to pay attention to their thoughts, feelings and sensations, practise deep breathing, and do affirmations and visualizations.

The benefits of mediation are well documented. At a time when most kids are brainwashed to worship senseless violence and socialites, mindfulness is a critical tool that offers massive potential, especially being offered a young age.

One woman commented on the article, saying:

Breathing deeply and learning to relax are excellent skills for children to learn as a stress reduction technique and for concentrating.

I work as a mental health counsellor and many of my adult clients with anxiety and high stress would have benefitted from learning some of these coping techniques earlier in life. This isn’t religion, it’s another tool in managing emotions and being able to think more clearly.

With the proper education, I believe most parents would understand the value (and non-religious nature) of meditation, and these types of programs will become standard in classrooms all over the world.

What do you think? Should meditation be taught in public school?