NYE 2013 - Searching for 'Sugar', Man: A life without limits... End of Year Review.

May all beings enjoy a great start to 2014! 

Hey guys, firstly I hope you are all well! Welcome back, or perhaps just Welcome, should you find yourself here for the first time. If you chose (and it is a choice, after all) to partake in the Christmas/Winter Solstice revelry and wassailing, I hope you were able to keep it well in your hearts. After the last few weeks mayhem, with all the customary inversely proportioned, ever-rising expectations versus funds depleting with equal and alarming rapidity, I can only hope that you were able to stay mindful of your moods, and responded to the seasonal demands with self-kindness and patience. If, on the other hand, like me, you managed to spend a large proportion of Christmas Day in a state of weepy exhaustion, quietly sobbing overtired, mucus-laden apologies to family and friends, then I truly feel for you. If this occurred after discovering exactly why you shouldn't mix alcohol with opiates (relax, it's 'Tramadol'), then, like me, you are an idiot, and I hope it teaches us all a valuable lesson in ignoring peer pressure and perhaps paying more heed to medical professionals. We need to live and learn better, if we want to learn to live better.  

With 2013 on it's way out, we have seen some pretty astounding things on many different levels both in the media and in our own private lives I'm sure, but several astonishing events stand out for me to which, on reflection, and with your blessing, I'd like to give pause for thought...

"Do not judge me by my successes, but by how many times I fell and got back up again... the greatest glory lies not in never falling, but in rising every time we fall..." - Nelson Mandela, 1918-2013.

To life, we lost iconic figures such as Nelson Mandela and Margret Thatcher, Lou Reed, Tom Clancy and Peter O'Toole. Lance Armstrong (doping-shamed cyclist and cancer survivor) lost our hearts and Justin Bieber appeared to loose his tiny mind after four days in the UK. In light of this last one, I'd like to take an opportunity to say that I'm glad that national pride has been restored here in these 'gentle' Isles, but frankly, it would be a lie. Britain has a rightly earned reputation for treating it's celebrities with either irrational adoration (hate to say it, but certain UK 'reality' TV stars are definitely paddling in the shallow end of the gene pool) or disproportionate contempt, such as 'glamour' model and author Jordan. We love nothing more that building people up until such a time as we tire of them and disregard them as obsolete or 'uncool'. I can't decide what's more tragic - the numbing inevitability of society's obsession with celebrity culture, or that a small percentage of people still feel the need to rant about it? Getting angry and negative about something doesn't change the fact that if you are ranting about Simon Cowell, you are still buying into him and engaging with his shows. You are still advertising him, still doing the 'Devils' bidding!  

If you see someone fall down a hole, offer to pull them out. Don't just tell them what an awful hole it is, and if they aren't aware that they are in a hole, if they are in fact using it as shelter from the worldly winds that gust about all our doorways, then don't try and drag them out! Some people like the hole. Let them do so. I think we can waste so much energy these days expressing unconstructive negativity, I really do. What about all those millions of people that took to social networking in order to express their 'shock' at the conviction of Ian Watkins? In spite of the many months of media coverage, for some reason when he was convicted, as predicted, Cyber-Samsara was awash with "burn the pedophile/hang the nonce" expressions of outrage, anger and violence. The people wanted blood. Never mind that there are nearly 3 convictions for sexual offences against minors a day in the UK. What about rising awareness of those other ruined lives too? How many of those baying for retribution have donated to any number of the fantastic charities that work with the victims of child abuse? 

Could it be that the media doesn't care what it prints, so long as people are angry... and buying newspapers?

I myself was saddened by how few people spared a thought for Ian's family and friends, their lives forever tarnished by events way beyond their control, and subsequently lauded over by the press in a macabre level of detail which I found sickening. In fact, merely mentioning this on Facebook resulted in a torrent of abuse from an old university friend of mine, thinking in some way I was defending Watkins and his co-conspiritors. "Sorry mate" was what I got when his misunderstanding had been pointed out. "It's an emotional subject." Rightly so, but if that's the case, how often then do we allow our emotions to override our judgement of less inflammatory situations on a daily basis, unawares? In the other extreme, I was again frustrated about the predominance of "Ian Watkins walks into a day-care centre"... style jokes within minutes of the 'news' of the verdict... Enough said, surely? We can't be governed by our reactive mind, but we can't just deaden ourselves to the reality of life for some people and make it all one big warped joke. It's inhuman. There is a world of difference between satirising media fear-tactics a la Chris Morris and his 'controversial' Brass Eye, and simply making light of human suffering to look cool. 

The fact remains that the whole problem of child abuse (or any kind of abuse of power) is rooted in an ignorance of how the world works, and how actions have lasting consequences for ourselves and others when we blindly indulge in any extreme cravings or intoxicants, be they sexual, political, chemical, or a violent, self-righteous anger. Most painfully predictably of all, hardly anyone noticed when he was actually later sentenced. That says a lot... 35 years he got. That's a long time to reflect on actions past, and sadly, we don't have that much time to try and figure out the last twelve months and where we go from here.

That for me is why, in many ways, New Years Eve is a more auspicious and momentous occasion to commemorate than Christmas itself. The question of the birth of a child who eventually went on to be known as "Jesus of Nazareth" or "the Galilean Jew rebel" is pretty much beyond reasonable doubt. We can't be sure when he was born, however. It could have been as early as 7-4 BCE, and probably in the first few months of the year, but by almost universal scholastic assent, we can ascertain that he was indeed baptised by John the Baptist, and put very much to death in a quite demonstrable fashion by the Roman prefect Pontius Pilate in Judea between 30 and 36 CE. Beyond that, we have to decide for ourselves. Notwithstanding, there was a man in ancient Judea who's belief in a higher power, a higher plane of existence was strong enough to inspire others to continue to follow and spread his teachings of transcendental love and forgiveness after his death. Many in fact, were persecuted, tortured or themselves put to death by the Roman state and Jewish authorities for heresy, so you can imagine at the very least he was a fairly charismatic guy. 

The historical Jesus of Galilee, who often had fantastic, down to earth advice,
is widely believed to have studied Buddhism in his 'missing years',
and was one of the most influential humans in history.

So with so much unknown, what then of the Gregorian calendar that we all go along with? What about this iron-clad concurrence (the Chinese and the Jewish calendars notwithstanding) that 2014 will commence on 00:00 on January 1st? If I recall, even as I write, parts of the far, far East will be preparing to welcome the New Year in already, no doubt with as much joy and chemical intensity as parts of the West. Not all cultures will be intoxicated of course, but however and whenever that magical moment arrives, we all I'm sure wish to be surrounded by loved ones and if possible, a sense of interconnected wonder. Maybe that's just me, I don't know. Some people on the other hand argue that NYE 2013 will be "just another day" and intend to leave well alone. I can see both points, both perspectives, and both are valid. In a sense, marking something as infrequent (over a lifetime) as a 'New Years Eve' is a way of accepting the invite to a global party of literally unimaginable proportions. However you see it in, if you can't feel some kind of connection with others as the entire planet shifts along a that crucial digit on the date stamp, then you might want to look into that, professionally. The rest of us, I'm sure, can still accept that as the modern Gregorian calendar was only adopted formally in 1582, then indeed as the party-poopers and detractors insist, there is thus no actual, fixed "moment" that the date changes. But if it is all relative, then how come we as a global society, as a species, attach so much importance to it? Why do I even feel compelled to blog about it?

I think the answer (as always) is buried somewhere deep within our own subconscious, omnipresent sense of mortality. Perhaps not only do we feel the urge to connect with other people and rejoice in each others company whilst we still can, but on some level we also wish to celebrate time itself and our brief yet inextricable experience of it? Hopefully for you, dear reader, the 12 months prior to this have been full of wonder and mystery, of growth and awe, with triumphs and successes outweighing the inevitable setbacks we all face. We feel that it all matters, but most of us can't quite express why. Think of all the synonyms for New Years celebrations: Mark the moment, turn over the page or the proverbial 'new leaf', wipe the slate, a fresh start etc. Time has the capacity not only to teach and heal us, but also redeem us. Yet we also can't help but love the idea of fixing things in our minds, calcifying sweeping statements into facts. "Oh, this has been a shocking year for me, a real write off!" a good friend sadly summarised when I asked for his quick-capsule review of 2013. How tragic! In the last 12 months, they could not think of a single thing for which to be grateful for, not a single memory arose which provided a moments happy recollection. Many viable reasons for this were quickly enumerated and as I listened I was reminded that yes, 2013 has indeed has it's shares of ups and downs for all of us. Many of the people I love have had babies, spawned progeny, literally created life out of nothing (according to some Buddhist metaphysical beliefs, but now probably isn't time for it) and are seeing in their first New Year as parents. Equally, many people I know, some closer than others, will be knowingly spending their last 'New Year' on this earth... Their friends, family and loved ones, fully aware, will be wanting to make it extra special. Midnight on January 1st will mark the final year change of their lifetime, and never more. A large percentage of people entering the final 12 months of their stay here on earth will be sadly unaware of this, I assure you. I might be one of them. Moreover, many remarkable, wonderful individuals, some famous, but mostly not, shan't breath in that golden January dawn as you and I (hopefully) shall. I pray that we all take a few moments to reflect on this and rejoice all they gave to us...

Lou Reed (1942-2013) - with The Velvet Underground and as a solo artist, he was
a musical icon, the voice of many generations and shaper of rock 'n' roll as we know it!

Peter O'Toole (1932-2013) - one of the greatest actors of all time,
pictured here in modern classic 'Stardust'.

Most of us don't know when our time will come, and most of us act like it never will. Reflecting on the certainty of one's own eventual demise is a sobering thought, and often it's the most sobering thoughts that turn us to alcohol. Perhaps for some people 'NYE' is really is just another in a long and (thus far) uninterrupted line of social engagements with which they distract themselves from the relative (read 'global') insignificance of most human lives. Perhaps for some it is a time of dread, another year older, another year closer to... *whispers*.. d... e... a... t... h...! Shock and horror! Oh, the humanity! Awful thoughts! Banish them quickly! Drink up! Back to sleep now... Shhhhhssshhhh... There you go... Back to the world of dreams... All fear, ultimately, is fear of exclusion from the safety of the group, and death.

Hopefully for most of you reading this, it will be neither of the two extremes of eternalism (I am a good person and will never die, why bother worrying) and nihilism (we're all gonna die, so what's the point trying). Surely the way forward, as proposed by the Buddha, is the much-talked about "Middle Way"? Not by ignoring our human transience or the obvious inherent good in the world, nor by obsessing about death will we overcome death. We overcome death by better understanding the notion of what it is to die, to loose someone, to loose anything. Our waistlines, our hairlines, our shorelines, our front lines of defence (emotional or militaristic); all are subject to change. Show me something outside of the law of change, and I will show you someone about to change their mind. Nothing of this world or in it is exempt. The very universe, in it's vast, sweeping, incalculable splendour is one giant process of evolving, of becoming, of changing. If nothing is permanent, if everything is fleeting and slipping through our fingers as we speak, second by second, then all is sacred and all the more precious because of it. Even the bad times seem less burdensome on the basis that things can always be (and ultimately, will one day definitely will be) worse. We can't really fathom change though. Not only do we tend to externalise the flux of life, we tend to exclude ourselves entirely from a process of which we are a part! We aren't subject to change, we are change! 

The Dharma-Farmer, circa 1988. As it were.

I privately despair when I hear phrases such as "The world has really changed since I was a kid!" or "You've changed!" offered in a sad or sometimes accusatory fashion. We do not have a right to be surprised at change, but we do reserve the right to stand in marvel at it. Are you, literally, the same person as in your pre-teen photos? Of course not. Are you the same person who saw in 2013? No way! Will you be the same person tomorrow morning, or in 15 min, or in a fraction of a second...? In this context, is it any wonder it takes something as blinding obvious as New Year's Eve to awaken our senses to this fact.

In the UK, we have long been proud of our heritage, of our testimony to impermanence. We are lucky enough to have just over 2,000 years of recorded history on our cute little island paradise. We all live in a digital age of plenty, so wherever you may be on this earth, if you can afford the means to read this piece, then I'm afraid I'm going to have to count you amongst the lucky ones, the minority in this world. If it wasn't for change, we couldn't have electricity, a New Year, or any new experiences. Life could never have leapt forth in such abundance in a fixed universe. Is that not reason enough to genuinely celebrate? Saying goodbye is a small price to pay for the pleasure of good company. By proffering abundant sums, we are gifted immense change in return. By reflecting not just on impermanence in general and specifically, but also on bringing to mind the times we got it wrong and lessons hard learned this year, we can find a meaning in the freshly dried tears, in the snotty tissues or the broken hearts. The lesson is hold onto nothing, cherish everything, and nothing can hold onto you... Not even death.

Even the concept of 'time' is impermanent, so what hope for us then?
Most importantly, in light of this, why worry?

As I have said time and time again, we are all subject to birth, sickness and eventual dissolution of the body. We are all in it together, and we will be better off if we can muster the strength to try and seek happiness within our own hearts over these next 12 months, as opposed to simply sensual pleasures. A contentment with the reality of life and one's relatively short place in it makes for wonderfully liberating contemplation, and isn't dependant on how much you drink, if you have sex or not, or even if you are physically with other people or not. You may be reading this in prison, spiritual, physical or state-sponsored. You may be on a solitary retreat. You may have had a bereavement, or a wedding, or an anniversary, or some less that favourable test results back. You might be in a Chalet, on the piste, in the sewer or the arms of loved ones, but wherever you are when the bell tolls midnight, never question that you are loved, and by so many too. It's simply that you haven't met us all yet.

Thus I leave you with a most beautiful little film and thought. Last night, on my brother's recommendation, I watch the award-winning, jaw dropping, tear inducing, inspirational roller-coaster of a documentary film, 'Searching for Sugar Man'. Released last year it tells the story of a mysterious musician from Detroit known only as "Rodriguez", a drifter who managed to release two albums between 1970-72 and then promptly disappeared having sold less than 100 of each. Put simply, I have had more commercial success over my music career, and that's really saying something. So far, so normal. As with most visionary artists, Rodriguez, his poetry, his records and his dreams disappears from life. 

"Cause I lost my job two weeks before Christmas

And I talked to Jesus at the sewer

And the Pope said it was none of his God-damned business

While the rain drank champagne.

My Estonian Archangel came and got me wasted.

Cause the sweetest kiss I ever got is the one I've never tasted

Oh but they'll take their bonus pay to Molly McDonald,

Neon ladies, beauty is that which obeys, is bought or borrowed.

Cause my heart's become a crooked hotel full of rumours

But it's I who pays the rent for these fingered-face out-of-tuners

and I make 16 solid half hour friendships every evening.

Cause they told me everybody's got to pay their dues

And I explained that I had overpaid them

So overdued I went to the company store

and the clerk there said that they had just been invaded

So I set sail in a teardrop and escaped beneath the doorsill.

Cause the smell of her perfume echoes in my head still.

Cause I see my people trying to drown the sun

In weekends of whiskey sours

Cause how many times can you wake up 

in this comic book and plant flowers?"

     

                                                                                 - 'Cause', by Rodriguez

Rare shot of Rodriguez on his only visit to London, 1970.

Only, not quite all of him. One fan, lucky enough to own a copy of his record, flies over from Detroit to South Africa, years later. Her friends find something in the poetry of his words and the etherial magnificence of his voice, rallying the troops to fight injustice in the name of love, that resonates with them in their Apartheid-war-torn world. Word spread. Wonder widened. Bootlegs were swapped, swapped, and swapped again. Re-recordings of re-recordings circulated like wildfire, and within 15 years, every person of sufficient means under the age of 25 has a copy of his first album, "Cold Fact". It went gold ten times in ten years! As far as South Africans was concerned, he was bigger than Elvis, bigger than the Beatles, bigger than the Stones, and in their pre-digital, heavily sanctioned and censored country, they assumed that this was the case the world over too. He was the poster boy of the anti-apartheid movement, and his music changed history for millions of people alive today. At the time, 8000 miles away, despondent and then, incredulously, dropped by his own record label two weeks before Christmas, Rodriguez puts down his guitar, completely unaware, and is never to be heard of again... Until now.

This is a story about how we never truly know how far our actions, our willed intentions and decisions will spread on the winds of change to influence others. As the Buddha said in the Dhammapada, in a section entitled 'Flowers':

"One should pay no heed to the faults of others, what they have done and not done. Rather should one consider the things that one has oneself done and not done.

Like a beautiful flower, brightly coloured but without scent, even so useless is the well-uttered speech of one who does not act accordingly.

The fragrance of flowers, of sandalwood, of aromatic resin or jasmine, does not go against the wind, whereas the fragrance of the good spreads in all directions, regardless.

Sandalwood or aromatic resin, blue lotus, or wild jasmine - of all these kinds of fragrance, the odour of virtue is unsurpassed."

                           - Translation, Sangharakshita.

When we set out to respond to the suffering of ourselves and others in a creative way, we open up new doors for others yet unseen, for others we may never see. We cannot comprehend how truly inter-related we all are, and never more so. But we owe it to ourselves to create something positive, something of use! Our actions, like the scents of both virtue and vice, go against our worldly winds to shores unknown, permeating through our various universes in the unending cosmic ballet of life. I won't say any more on the film, I will leave it to you for when you get round to it, if you do. I implore you to watch the trailer at least, it might just change how you see the world, and your role in it. My own small life has never been more affirmed than last night, and I am still getting emotional twenty-four hours later. Many people now consider him to have been the finest acoustic singer-songwriter the world has ever bared witness too. I can't as yet disagree.

Whatever you did this year, whatever you got right or wrong, whatever fame or infamy, praise or blame, successes or failures of body, speech or mind, so long as we can grow out of them and not in spite of them we should be ok. We are only here for such a short length of time, I don't think we can spare any to quibble over, frankly. For me, it's not about getting wasted or laid. Not entirely, but I'm out of action on both fronts due to slipped discs in my backs and the subsequent equestrian-strength painkillers. Counter to my instincts for self-preservation, I am for the first time ever leaving the comfort safety of 'indoors', and heading instead to the outskirts of Manchester (Oldham, specifically) to watch superb rising stars 'The Tapestry' bring their own blend of anthemic pop-rock sensibilities to the 'gentle' folk of "Jackson's Pit"... It looks set to be pandemonium, if the below video for their single "Rode Your Luck" is anything to go by...

 I'm assured that the venue is a more alluring prospect than the name (or some would argue, the location) implies, and besides, one of my dearest friends is the drummer... and my housemate... and my lift there and back... Besides... I forgot to make other plans! Irrespective, I'm excited, exhilarated even at the thought of NYE anyway, and that I get to spend it with close friends and great music is a heck of a cherry on an already sizeable cake! This year has taught me so much, but the one thing I know for sure is that no matter what befalls us each in the next twenty-four hours or so, all our collective experiences will be proceeded by our mental states, created by our minds, and made real by our minds. If we speak of act with a mind tainted with sadness or ignorance, greed or anger, then suffering will follow like the cart-wheel follows the ox. If, on the other hand, we speak or act skilfully, with a pure mind and a gladdened heart, then happiness and joy will follow, as the Buddha said, like a shadow that never departs.

I wish you all the very best for the new year! 

May lessons learned be learned well, may we get better at failing, and may we all one day soon learn to love the liberation of a life, without limits, well lived... 

"Just as the sea has but one taste, that of salt...", the Buddha was reported to have said, "...so my teachings have but one taste; the taste of freedom!" 

May that freedom be yours in 2014. 

Yours, taking nothing for granted that I will see another one,

The Dharma-Farmer xx

May any merit gained in my acting and writing thus be dedicated to the wellbeing of all beings as we enter 2014

May you be well, may you be happy, may you remember most of it!

This article itself is dedicated to the memory of Bay Garner (1926-2013) and the wellbeing of her family.

"No-one ever learns by their triumphs..." 

A Bodhisattva's Christmas Carol: Part 7 - Spontaneous Creativity, Amoghasiddhi and Conclusion of our Carol...

"It's just a ride... It's just a ride... It's just a ride..." - Bill Hicks 

Greetings friend, and bless you for sticking with us these last two weeks. It's been quite the ride, hasn't it? Now we enter the final chapter in our own little story. We have thus far, for the last two weeks, been exploring themes in 'A Christmas Carol', and seeing them in relation to our own inner transformation. To recapitulate then, in the first chapter we discussed the proposal that the Dickens classic of redemption and the indomitable human spirit can be read through modern eyes as a perfect self-help manual. Being as it is exactly 170 years ago that the 31 years old Charles published the book, now seemed as good a time as any to explore a story which could so easily read as a modern Buddhist parable. Interestingly, the novella ties in with both Sangharakshita's "Five Stages of Spiritual Progress" and (I believe) it's more archetypal and symbolic expression, the Mandala of the the Five Buddhas/Jinnas. In the Buddhist and Hindu traditions, a mandala is a sacred circle of spiritual significance, with truths and teachings being expressed through symbolism, on a deeper, more imaginative level than the normal rational mind normally operates on. The most important of all the Buddhist mandalas is the Mandala of the Five Buddhas. This is a personification of the five "essential qualities" that need to be cultivated in order to affect radical changes in our lives, leaving us more contented and less anxious. We noticed how we could arrange these three modes of communication into tiers, with the prose of Dickens being the most accessible, followed by the of the "Five Stages" model, with the most sublime and wordless expression of ultimate reality being conveyed through the mandala, on a level way beyond the language of abstractions or concepts. In effect, conversations beyond language itself, between us, the unenlightened, and the Enlightened mind. 

After careful consideration, I believe that the familiarity of 'A Christmas Carol" with the modern reader makes this charming tale the perfect vehicle by which Dickens can take the reader, step by step, through the process of inner transformation, for the benefit of all beings we encounter. This, sadly, is a point overlooked with alarming consistency in modern theo-literary circles.

Don't be left looking into your own life from the cold outside this Christmas...  

What I find amazing, nay, incomprehensible, is that over the last few years the majority of adults and children, in their recollections of the plot of A Christmas Carol, invariably seem to focus on how awful Scrooges behaviour was, with almost no idea of how he turns it all around, which I believe to be the real message of the story. In mentioning this project to a few friends, associations with Scrooge offered to me were always negative, in spite of the incredibly moving ending and the complete and lasting change that Scrooge manages to implement and maintain! It really is an almost-criminal shame that no-one says "Ah, yes, Scrooge, the greatest member society could ever wish for" which in the end, is exactly what he transforms himself into. Such is the complete and radical shift in his perspective and behaviour, and in light of this, I find it astounding and reprehensible that over the years, we have allowed the name "Scrooge" to be defined in the Oxford English Dictionary as follows:

Scrooge, Ebeneezer: a miserly curmudgeon in Charles Dickens’s novel A Christmas Carol (1843).

(as noun a Scrooge) a person who is mean with money:

"Don’t be a Scrooge and drive away without putting some cash in the collecting tins" 

I'm sure that Dickens would have been quietly heartbroken by this. At the time of writing, the young man worked furiously, with an intensity that surprised even himself. Incredibly, he managed to complete his masterpiece in just six weeks, often obsessively working into the night, only breaking to take long solitary walks around the gas-lit, cobbled streets of foggy Victorian London, laughing, crying and wrapped in awe at a time “when all sober folks had gone to bed”  as he later recalled. That he was only about 9 months older than myself, 31, when it went to print makes this book all the more startling, and possibly unique in English literature for both its raising of social awareness and it's route-map to change.

When it was published, it was received to universal accolades of the highest degree, even by Dickens' more virulently hostile and traditionally acerbic critics. Even the most outspoken detractors, such as the normally vitriolic Theodore Martin, quietly admitted it was "finely felt, and calculated to work much social change". Wide-spead popular acclaim was immediate and overwhelming (even though, through legal proceedings the following year, the first pressing earned him only £167!) as the most well-respected commentators of the day lined up to praise the work. The London literary magazine, Athenaeum, declared it: 

"A tale to make the reader laugh and cry – to open his hands, and open his heart to charity even toward the uncharitable ... a dainty dish to set before a King." 

Poet and editor Thomas Hood wrote, "If Christmas, with its ancient and hospitable customs, its social and charitable observances, were ever in danger of decay, this is the book that would give them a new lease. The very name of the author predisposes one to the kindlier feelings; and a peep at the Frontispiece sets the animal spirits capering".

William Makepeace Thackeray in Fraser's Magazine (February 1844) pronounced the book, "a national benefit and to every man or woman who reads it, a personal kindness. The last two people I heard speak of it were women; neither knew the other, or the author, and both said, by way of criticism, 'God bless him!'" 
Of Tiny Tim, Thackeray wrote "There is not a reader in England but that little creature will be a bond of union between the author and him; and he will say of Charles Dickens, as the woman just now, 'GOD BLESS HIM!' What a feeling this is for a writer to inspire, and what a reward to reap!" 

A command performance indeed! Dickens later confessed that he received "by every post, all manner of strangers writing all manner of letters about their homes and hearths, and how the Carol is read aloud there, and kept on a very little shelf by itself"

When did you last hear of a book, other than one of holy writ, being afforded a shelf of it's own?! In light of all this, is it possible that for all our "Men-are-from-Mars" and "How-to-make-friends-and-influence-people"-type explorations of the human condition, generally they have too narrow an angle on their subject matter, looking at life from the limiting perspective of erotic relationships, or professional advancement? Psuedo-spiritual, unsubstantiated, unprovable offerings such as best-seller 'The Secret', whereby we can literally 'wish' for good to befall us, I genuinely believe to be psychologically dangerous for some people. Believing that from your seat on your commute to work, you have the unfathomable power of the cosmos at your fingertips to manifest material gain negates the assessment of one's own ethical motivation (is it always a good thing for you and others to get what you want?) as well as neglecting to consider the fact that events are based on a multiplicity of interconnected pre-existing phenomena, many of which are in your control. Nearly eight years after it's publication, doctors still attack 'The Secret' for teaching that positive thinking is an adequate substitute for medical care in cases of serious illness: Wish for it hard enough, and your cancer tumors will melt away. Sweet! Religious leaders criticise 'The Secret' for its ethical claims that victims are always to blame, and for promoting the attitude that anyone can be just like a God just by wishing hard enough. Countless financial critics and advisors have pointed out the dangers of yet another baseless get-rich-quick scheme. As far as I can tell, when you wish upon a star... Unless you act, you wont get far! But wish and act for all there are, and dreams... come... true....

Amoghasiddhi (pronounced "A-Mo-ga-Siddy) or The Fearless One. In very obvious parallels with the final stage of Sangharakshita's System of Spiritual Progress, he represent boundless spontaneous creativity, and the destruction of all the poisons and other impediments to our progress.

Speaking of skilful means, we now come to our final figure of the mandala, Amoghasiddhi, the green Buddha of the northern quadrant. As with the Spirit of Christmas Present, green is symbolic and evocative of life, of growth, of a lush, verdant, outward-facing response to life, truly in tune to the needs of others. Separated by mainland Europe, nonetheless the ancient Indians were just as receptive to changes in the seasons as our early predecessors. In both cultures we see the colour green employed to symbolise verdant creativity, authentically alive and the associations with comfort, security, and confidence are also never more readily appreciated than in the pits of winter. Moreover, and auspiciously, Amoghasiddhi is the Buddha associated with the winter solstice (or "Christ's-Mass") as more newfangled modern religions insist on calling it. During the depths of these darkest months, when food, warmth and morale can be in scarce supply (and thus matters of life and death for some), it is just as lucky for us that Amoghasiddhi is representative of Enlightened bravery and testicular fortitude. The open palmed mudra of Fearlessness or 'Abhiya' (literally "no-fear") is often parallel with Amoghasiddhi's heart, and again, this reminds us that true fearlessness is not an intellectual position, but ultimately an emotional on. If we rely on a dry, desiccated understanding of the world, if we are inclined to reduce everything to the material and deny that which cannot be sold by the pound, then we run the serious risk of alienated awareness of our mental states, which creates psychological instability in the long run. He radiates a benevolent determination to see things through, to act bravely and with conviction upon our deepest insight and desires for spiritual fulfilment. 

We have to learn to trust ourselves: to be an individual in the truest sense, to trust that our ethical discernment of situations is sound, and to trust that our motivations do not result in that which may be of harm to ourselves and others. The only way to do that is to eventually relinquish "control" of 'your' life, to just embrace life itself, and a huge part of that is recognising that a lot of life's occurrences are out of your sphere of influence anyway. he bigger picture is incomprehensibly vast. These associations with the fearlessness mudra, the open palm towards the viewer, keeps the mandala in ballance, and as we move around the mandala, we see an alternating pattern emerging; one of turning inward followed by external activity. 

We collect ourselves, become more integrated and aware of our present state, and as a result experience a freeing up of energy to be used in the world as act of open-handed generosity. On the basis of seeing the effects of our new skilful motivations, we can asses how we feel about it, and this in turn gives rise to insight. Should we turn our gaze inwards once more and enter upon reflection and meditation, we see all things as unique and precious, as our craving and self-centred greed is abated to a greater extent. As we become more aware of the true nature of the universe and our deliciously small place in it, with our new emotional, intuitive understanding of the path, we then simply respond to the cries of the world in a seamless flow of creative energy. We give off an air of fearlessness, and what remains of our greedy and self-centred attitudes is swept away by a newly found vigour for good. In the Buddhist tradition, after the gift of the Dharma, the twin gifts of fearlessness and confidence (not egotism) are amongst the most highly valued, along with time, energy, metta, material assistance etc. Due to his Insight spontaneously manifestating as skilful creativity for the benefit of all beings, the accomplishing wisdom of Amoghasiddhi is seen as an antidote to the poison of envy, and is thus associated with the transmutation of unskilful 'green' states such as these to their polar opposites, the verdant, Monsoon-like, life-giving elixirs of bravery and self-belief in the face of the daily struggles we all face.

Just as Scrooge realises that he needs to embody the lessons of all three spirits on a daily basis, so we need to try and be mindful of our own daily position in the mandala and make a conscious effort on the path of self-transcendence. We must be constantly aware of our surroundings and any prevalent moods swings, and, whenever possible, be asking ourselves "am I aware of myself at this moment?" And "where am I on the mandala/Five Stages right now?". After a while, we can gradually start to notice changes within us. We can't rush this process though, and just as we can't physically force a flower to bloom, so can't we can't just 'change' (no matter how much we wish for it!). Change involves both karma and vipaka, cause and effect. We can't just chase the effect, sitting there on a friday night waiting for people to invite us out. We need to be pro-active, and it's vital to understand that for catalysing lasting change, we require a path of regular steps. We must persevere, we must be willing to play the "long-game". Nothing worth having comes easily, and regrettably, most of us follow the path of irregular steps and unaware of this, can no more fathom the inconsistent fruits of our labours than we can taste the sun.

Given the right conditions, it's very easy to be inspired, to be enthused, to develop a degree of insight, no matter how small. It's what brought you to read this article in the first place, and it's so important to keep reminding ourselves of this. That we all have had some degree of realisation that things are not as we have been lead to believe is something in itself worth acknowledging, reflecting on, and celebrating. 

Far harder is it to keep our egos out of the way of our energy flows and inspiration, and concern ourselves with creating conditions most conducive to change. We must be aware that if we don't make the effort, if we merely apply ourselves sporadically, then the effects of our skilful karma will soon run out. How do we keep this flowing without us burning out? 

We need to be constantly circumambulating the mandala, constantly seeing opportunities to lessen the suffering of ourselves and others, if not actually spread a little fearlessness. Being creative is not the same as being busy though, and perhaps we are all guilty from time to time of just busying ourselves in order to appear busy, or just to accomplish tasks with little awareness of how we accomplish them, and to what end. Are we busy doing something, or are we busy creating something? What is the 'spirit' with which we enter into these endeavours? 

Are we being creative, or just busy reacting to life? Are our responses to challenges automated or spontaneous?
Are we truly alive? 

Another way of understanding the final, all-accomplishing stage of spiritual development it to assess it via the two main modes within which most people operate - the creative mind and the reactive mind. The best way to understand the creative mind and the final stage of the model is to look at the alternative, less desirable mode of being, advises Sangharakshita. 

"The reactive mind doesn't function spontaneously. It doesn't function, it doesn't work, it doesn't operate or manifest out of its own inner fullness. It doesn't, as it were, burst forth. It requires some external stimulus, some provocation as it were, to set it going, to set it in motion. And usually, for most of us, this stimulation, this provocation, comes in one way or another through the five senses. Just imagine or recollect; you are walking along the road, just idly, for the most part perhaps unawarely, just walking along, and you happen to look around, and your eye catches a very vividly coloured and attractively phrased advertisement. So at once what happens? - your mind is captured by this, and you react. You don't know most of the time what you are doing. You're not aware of what is happening. And a reaction arises, usually one of greed or interest, craving, something of this sort, depending on what you've seen with, or through, the eye, the organ of sight. So we can therefore say that the reactive mind, because it is reactive, is a conditioned mind. It's conditioned by its object. We see the advertisement, then automatically the craving arises. It doesn't come, as it were, from within spontaneously. Even that would be something, but it's prompted, it's activated, stimulated, from without. It's conditioned by its object. So the conditioned mind is not free. It's another very important characteristic of the reactive mind. The reactive mind is not free. We are not free so long as we merely re-act instead of just acting" 

Sometimes we can get  better understanding of what something is on the basis of what it isn't! Just as the Dharma (teachings of the Buddha) isn't Enlightenment (merely a conceptualisation of it on a purely rational, intellectual level), and the finger pointing at the moon is not to be mistaken for the moon itself, the reactive mind is one which is inert, directly reliant on external stimuli and simply responds habitually. The reactive mind does simply that - it re-acts it's previous patterns as per our conditioning. Our minds are very lazy, you know. Most of the time we are not aware that we are drifting through life, unaware of our current mental states. The mind reactive is the standard mode by which most of us operate, most of the time, often at work. This is a mechanical, lifeless way of being, and by which roundabout way, we can posit that on the other hand:

Sangharakshita, the "English Monk" circa 1971, around the time he was formulating his revolutionary
"Five Stages of Spiritual Progress". From going AWOL in India at the end of WWII, to working there for 20 years,
to establishing a radical new Buddhist movement in London 1967, to taking the incredibly brave decision to de-robe in the early 1980's, his life is one of the most fearless I've ever known... But that's another story...  

"The creative mind is, as it were, active on its own account. The motive power, the force, the drive, the inspiration, as it were, of the creative mind, comes from the depths within the mind itself... Suppose we take misfortune, bereavement or loss as a sort of challenge, as a sort of opportunity for unfolding something from within ourselves which is not determined by that object, then this is the creative mind in operation. The reactive mind does tend to be, very often, negative and pessimistic, but the creative mind on the other hand is positive, and it is optimistic. Not optimistic in the superficial sense... but optimistic in the sense that the creativity persists despite even quite unpleasant external conditions and stimuli." 
  

Our 21st century society has never been more connected, yet a lot of people have never felt more alone. We are encouraged to have our own house, car, job, gym membership, partner, maybe even children. We are encouraged to be autonomous, self-contained, self-sufficient. We are less reliant on other people, and so when problems befall us, we have neither the support network of 200 years ago nor a creative, skilful mode of mental proliferation to fall back on. In the olden days of large nuclear families and 'blood' friendships, within which everyone recognised that we have a reliance on and an obligation to those nearest to us, most people rarely felt alone in this world. These days however, with less social or neighbourly interaction (on the whole) we can develop envy and status anxiety if we forget to remember the bigger picture. If in life we have to play society's 'games' (earning a living, being 'respectable' by the group consensus) then perhaps we can engage with these things with less importance placed on 'winning', but with the same enthusiasm, seeing it simply as a fun opportunity to act creatively, just as a parent playing with a small child. The parent knows the game is a fantasy, but plays along anyways, simply delighting in seeing the child happy, sitting free and easy with it all, relaxed and alive to the moment.

This is the fearless attitude of spontaneous creativity that Scrooge now exemplifies - and here is my salient point - not just at the end of the story, but ever onward for the rest of his life! 

He doesn't limit himself to making apologies to those whom are deserving of them for the sake of his ego, and he doesn't act kindly out guilt, but simply because his creative mind sees opportunity to spontaneously manifest skilfully, and he responds unthinkingly out of a deeply held emotional understanding of his past misdeeds. He doesn't walk straight over to his nephew Fred's house, but allows his morning to unfold without trying to grasp at it. It is a real pleasure to see all five stages of the Path of Progress manifest themselves in this final stave, "The End of It". The oft-missed irony here is that this is very much the "start of it", his new life, not the 'end', as we shall see from the off. 

He opens his eyes, and tuning into his experience with Akshobian, mirror-like clarity (again) comes into sudden awareness of his surroundings, his body, the time of day, and the fact that he's "still here"! The Ratnasambhavan emotional positivity that is released can barely be held by his slender form, and giggling like a school boy, he turns to face the outside world as he yanks up the window in glee. To him, it is a magical dawn, and his first as a new man. Through his senses, he becomes appreciative of the transient beauty of the external, the crisp cold air and azure skies, and the astonishing texture of this new inner experience. The clarity of such an insight leaves him practically speechless at the "glorious" nature of existence itself, reminiscent of the all penetrating blazing wisdom of Vairocana. Gazing down upon the street with the discerning, loving eyes of Amitabha, he spies a "remarkable boy... a pleasure to talk to", and out of no-where, with the Insight of Amoghasiddhi, Scrooge spontaneously knows, instinctively, what has to be done, and sets about purchasing the famous giant turkey "Twice the size of Tiny Tim". How do we know this is a skilful act...?

"'I'll send it to Bob Cratchit's.' whispered Scrooge, rubbing his hands, and splitting with a laugh. 'He sha'nt know who sends it!" 

Aside from the obvious joy and hilarity at being able to (finally) connect with others and help according to their unique needs, the fact that he keeps his acts of astonishing generosity to himself illustrates clearly his motivations as altruistic and not based out of an egotistical desire to be seen to be a good person, changing for the vanity and praise to be earned. This is the first of three remarkably generous acts that Dickens keeps between Scrooge and the benefactor alone, the other two being the donation to the portly charity collector and his final act we directly hear of; ensuring the survival of the Cratchit family and by extension, Tiny Tim. The mortality rates for London in 1839 were shocking by todays standards, with half the city's burials being accounted for by those under ten years old! In Victorian society, there would have barely been a family who hadn't lost a child, but in spite of advances in modern medicine, it is understandable why the final image of Tim being carried through the streets of Camden (where the Cratchits reside) is still as timeless and endearing as ever.

Sadly now, dear friend, we near the end our epic voyage of self discovery and for me it has indeed been an epic journey; some 8 or 11 hour writing sessions, hours of research, innumerable talks from the www.freebuddhistaudio.com website, and all of it a pleasure! Hopefully, from our initial excursion, we can now see clearly that A Christmas Carol is indeed a remarkable piece of classic modern literature (modern, of course, when compared to the discourses of the Pali Cannon recorded some 2,300 years ago) and we can indeed, with remarkable ease see the "ghosts" of ideas that Dickens held so dear to his heart throughout his life; in his own words:


"There is a wisdom of the head and a wisdom of the heart. No one is useless in this world who lightens the burden of it to anyone else. Whatever I have tried to do in life, I have tried with all my heart to do it well; whatever I have devoted myself to, I have devoted myself completely; in great aims and in small I have always thoroughly been in earnest." 

"The whole difference between construction and creation is exactly this: that a thing constructed can only be loved after it is constructed; but a thing created is loved before it exists... A day wasted on others is not wasted on one's self. Try to have a heart that never hardens, a temper that never tires, and a touch that never hurts."

"Happy, happy the Christmas, that can win us back to the delusions of our childhood days, recall to the old man the pleasures of his youth, and transport the traveler back to his own fireside and quiet home!"

Whilst no reasonable person could assert that Dickens was a closet Buddhist trapped in the existential closet, the similarities of belief between himself and Buddhist scholars of the last 2,000 years is impossible to ignore. By skilful means, he was able to devote a lifetime to exposing human suffering and inequality in society, and no-one can deny that he had a genius for psychologically memorable characters surpassing most. Great oceans of compassion ebbed and flowed through his inner life, and whilst some people claim he was "just a normal man, a writer, albeit a very gifted one", in light of our recent literary foray I find that a hard assertion to uphold. 

He himself would have known, from friends in theological and theosophical circles, of reports of strange discoveries, of giant gold-plated status in mountain caves and overgrown temple complexes, reclaimed by humid and inhospitable jungles in the far east. It is possible that some of his ideas were shaped by the the 'discovery' of an ancient 'religion' in subcontinental Asia, but the truth of the matter is that behind the resolute smile and penetrating gaze was a man able to stare into the very depths of the human condition, and offer us a way out. A way out, it must be said, first expounded by the historical Buddha, and then by later scholars of many a varied tradition and culture, including Sangharakshita. Maybe Bhante's model was subconsciously influenced by Charles' book. Who knows? What I do know, for a fact, is that whether we like it or not, whether we are aware of it or not, we all influence each other. We are interconnected. 

Whether we chose to call it 'Buddhism', 'the real world', Cognitive Behavioural Therapy (CBT) or common sense, and be it expressed in poetry, prose, concepts or archetypal symbolism, what matters is that we pay attention to our inner experiences, past, present and future, and that we try and use these experiences to investigate and resolve inner conflict. Then, and only then, can we become more emotionally robust, unified and ethically purposeful individuals, in the truest of senses. Through reflecting on both the oneness, uniqueness and ultimate transience of life, we can bring real meaning to our own lives, through spontaneous acts of kindness, love and charity. Our impermanence means we are interconnected, through space, time and love. None of us will make it out of here alive - lets try and make this ride as meaningful as possible for our fellow companions. Whatever you want to change in your life, I believe in you. I believe in the Path of self awakening. And I believe that if we put our minds to it, one being at a time, then we can explore space, both inner and outer, together, forever, in peace.

This is my truth, please tell me yours...

Tomorrow, when you arise, take a second or two. Breathe in slowly and deeply. Ask yourself how you are, how you would like to be, and how you can close that gap with a sense of kindness. In and of itself it wont change the world, but it's a hell of a start! In the meanwhile, I genuinely, from the bottom of my heart, hope that the coming Christmas does indeed bring you and your loved one's together, and that this joyous, life-affirming "Carol" of the Cosmos can be sung en mass, with full vigour, a warm heart and an open mind across this world we share for many, many years to come. May your home be 'haunted' pleasantly this year, and may be we all be considered proper 'Scrooges' one day... There are worse things to wish for, after all...





And as for the future of our hero, the final outcome of our tale? Scrooge carries on growing, exponentially and finally unchained, carries on evolving, carries on in the admirable personal and social vision of Dickens himself, and all with a fabulous sense of humour, it's worth remembering. As one of the worlds greatest humanitarians, we see Charles 'living out' his own altruistic aspirations vicariously though the new Ebeneezer, and although often narrated by Bob in the final moments of the play or film, tonight I will leave you with the timelessly inspirational words (and a knowing, smiling wink - Scrooge's "Abstinence" from further "spirits"), of one Mr Charles John Huffam Dickens...

"Scrooge was better than his word. He did it all, and infinitely more; and to Tiny Tim, who did not die, he was a second father. He became as good a friend, as good a master, and as good a man, as the good old city knew, or any other good old city, town, or borough, in the good old world. 

Some people laughed to see the alteration in him, but he let them laugh, and little heeded them; for he was wise enough to know that nothing ever happened on this globe, for good, at which some people did not have their fill of laughter in the outset; and knowing that such as these would be blind anyway, he thought it quite as well that they should wrinkle up their eyes in grins, as have the malady in less attractive forms. 

His own heart laughed: and that was quite enough for him.

   He had no further intercourse with Spirits, but lived upon the Total Abstinence Principle, ever afterwards; and it was always said of him, that he knew how to keep Christmas well, if any man alive possessed the knowledge. 

May that be truly said of us, and all of us! And so, as Tiny Tim observed, 
God bless Us, Every One! 

Your humble and obedient servant,
D.F



I wish you all the Merriest of Christmases, and may the year indeed be a New, happy 
and spiritually prosperous one, for all of us, wherever, whomever or whenever we are.

May any merit gained in my acting thus be dedicated to the benefit of all beings.
May you be well, may you be happy, may you live in peace xx