Why Go on the Journey?
गते गते पार गते पार संगते बोधि स्वाहा
Gate, gate, paragate para sam gate bodhi swaha*
Do you ever stop to wonder why you started your journey to a ‘better’ you? In the end, it doesn’t really matter - you’re doing what you’re driven to do - but sometimes some reflection can help you reach your goals, focus your attention and - absolutely the most importantly - pursue things for the right reasons.
With a clear goal and the presence of mind to know when you’ve reached it, you can move on to the next thing
There are three possible outcomes when people try to change themselves in some way:
1/ They give up or change route
2/ They succeed and have a clear understanding of when they are finished
3/ They get really into the technique of change and stay there, regardless of goals or success
In the first, we can be made to feel like quitters. The teachers that tried to guide us make it our fault - we didn’t listen to their wise lessons and we can feel the cognitive dissonance on a job left undone. On the other hand, quitting a hobby or demand on our time that isn’t working for us can be restorative, almost like leaving a failing - or even abusive - relationship. I see this often in people who feel trapped in degrees, masters, PhDs and other higher learning.. In the second people have set a clear goal - reach and maintain a certain weight; reach a distance, time or other sports goal; find fulfilment in a relationship - and they know when they’re finished. With a clear goal and the presence of mind to know when you’ve reached it, you can move on to the next thing with a sense of achievement, new targets or even the realisation that you’re already perfect, you don’t need to change any more. Let the world judge. In the last there is a problem. You can see this in the gym, in the diet group, in the university, in the ashram.
Over the twentieth century we collectively decided that process was more important than outcome. Sometimes that’s true, but when the process is in the form of a specific technique that has been developed and then seen to be more important than any outcome, that’s when you get stuck. It’s the difference between the method of the doctor and the method of the priest. The priest wants to keep you coming back because that’s what fixes the church roof, whereas the traditional model of the doctor is that they want to get rid of you quickly and never see you again. Sadly in our doctors offices across the world, the doctors are becoming the priests, with their pills that need us more than we need them.
Could he even leave all he knew behind? The village and all its demands, his family and all their wounds, the romantic partners he’d loved and lost and the promise of future happiness in the arms of someone that loved him for who he was?
Joseph Campbell used to tell a story that he took from Heinrich Zimmer about the different kinds of Buddhism and it can deepen our understanding. I’m going to tell it in my way.
The man stood looking over the river like he had many times before. Through his troubles growing up, through his difficult schooling, after every beating, every break of his fragile heart and every profound sadness that seemed to overcome him more and more often, he stood on this spot. When things were bad he would come down to the shore of that river and peer through the rolling mists, catching a glimpse occasionally of the peace beyond. He had heard the stories. Beautiful swaying trees basking under glorious sunshine, food like a palace feast, no pain, no strain, no more to fear and the deepest of all belonging. How could he ever hope to cross the wide river? Could he even leave all he knew behind? The village and all its demands, his family and all their wounds, the romantic partners he’d loved and lost and the promise of future happiness in the arms of someone that loved him for who he was? Then as soon as the thought popped into his head, a bell was heard faintly over the water. Coming into focus through the mist was lone figure in a boat, its bell peeling softly. It crawled glacially through the water until a scrape announced its arrival, not far down the bank. The man ran to it and the figure spoke some words in a low voice.
“Anyone for the far shore?”
The man stood and gulped. Then found his legs moving towards the boat. He sat as the figure pushed off into the lapping water…
The journey was long, it seemed even like many lifetimes, but he’d quickly been told the business of the boat. He was to sleep and rise at the same time every day, eat the same food, say the daily chants and meditate through the day with beads and with mantra and with incense. It went from boring to excruciatingly dull quickly and then into sheer mind-numbing tedium for a long time until the man realised a few things.. He never had to make any decisions for himself which freed up his mind. He had no relationships to consider which freed up his heart. He had food, water and the boar as shelter which freed up his body. With all that extra power he was able to steer his whole self into the business of the boat and soon he learned to love it, to rely on it, to glory in its simplistic beauty..
Then one day during his daily ablutions there was a lurch and a scrape and the figure spoke again for the first time.
“Anyone for the far shore?”
The man was horrified. He had learned to love the simple beauty of his life now and the thought of the beating sun, the swaying trees, the plentiful food seemed so terrifying, so busy, so demanding of his mind, heart and body. He looked at the figure in mute appeal but saw only a shaking head. With all the heaviness of the doomed, he got out of the boat onto the far shore, ready to see the trees, the sun, the food, enjoy the bliss he’d been promised. Sure enough, there it all was but instead of glorying in it he found himself turning back to where he had come from. Through the mist he could make it out. The shore, the village, the… Wait! There were thing’s he’d never noticed before over on that far shore. He could just make out the trees, the sun, the food and the beauty of life throbbing away. He looked at where he stood, he looked that far shore. Then the world started to fade. The river started to disappear, the trees faded, the sun melted and smell of food that had wafted into his nose dissipated. They mixed and swirled in his reeling senses before settling again. This time though they were different. The far shore and the far shore were one and the same. The river was no barrier, as though he could simply of walked it the whole time and the pleasures and delights, the pain and the heartache were also one and the same. He’d been stood on the far shore all along.
The man had an idea of what he wanted to experience in his life, what he wanted to be. It turned out that the journey, though hard at first, was more appealing than the goal. Then, when the goal was finally accepted, life hadn’t changed that much at all. He could still experience the pleasures and the pains but in a new way. The far shore and the far shore are the same. They always were.
Is a boat ride worth the loss?
So consider what you want your far shore to be. Is it really that different from the one you stand on? Or are you really just here to enjoy the boat ride. Whilst your on the boat, you can miss out on all the pain and suffering in life. This also means that you don’t get any of the pleasures either. Is a boat ride worth the loss of all that?
*The mantra can be translated as:
Gone, gone to the far shore. Everyone gone to the far shore. An awakening! Hail!