Emotions

I'm getting to a wierd point in my Buddhist life around emotions. Logically I know I don't need them but they are escapable.
Let me clarify.
It's not like the movies where the zen master is perfectly austere and completely lacking in emotions. In the same way that our body cannot be separated from our mind our mind cannot be separated from our emotions. They're there, they're real. Trying to not have any is just lying to yourself and just as harmful as having to much of them. The goal of Zen isn't to become a soulless, lifeless robot who is completely disconnected from the world. Quite the oposite in fact. The goal is to have more love, global love, love for all things and joy at their existence.

What I really mean is to do is not be so attached to my emotions. The goal of Zen is to no longer NEED them. The way a child REALLY NEEDS that new toy, or that candy, or whatever that shiny thing that is on the shelf when you pass it in the hallway in some store and then breaks down into tears when you pass it instead of picking it up and putting it in the cart. There's no reason not to enjoy it when you get it.

But I seem to _want_ to need them. If I was a monk I'd strive to be less controlled by them. I'd see the emotion come, acknowledge it and move on. What we do in real life is see the emotion, grab a hold of it with both hands and wave it around, hug it to us, shout at it or put it on like a cape and run around the room pretending to be superman.

If I wanted to lead a more 'Buddhist' or especially a more 'Zen' life I'd not be quite so ruled by said emotions. And honestly I'd probably be happier. I wouldn't be caught up by every little twitch my wife makes I wouldn't be driven insane and unable to sleep by work.

But I don't want to become that austere. I'm full of life and vitality. I know I can be full of life and vitality and be spiritual but it's different. My teacher Jane Schneiders in talking about this once said "It's not that you become completely detatched and no longer feel love. In a sense you become a tiny bit more detached but you still feel the love. In fact you feel more. You feel it more broadly and more deeply than ever, but you no longer need (crave) it."

Which sounds awesome. I could have wild blindly radient love for the whole universe and yet be comfortable enough with myself that I won't feel like blubbering if my wife forgets to kiss me in the morning or if my daughter says she wants her mom to pick her up instead of me (Sometimes It's me sometime's it's mom. we can't convince her that whenever she says that she hurts the feelings of the other parent.)

However for some reason I don't want this peace. I don't want to loose my craving for emotions. It's like the emotions define me. The emotions make me 'real.' In a sense they do. Not the Buddhist sense, but a sense. They make me 'real' because they define this idea of me. This false me that we all have, you have, I have, my dog has. This idea of a permanent singular self that we cling to. In the Buddhist sense that identity is crap. There is no 'me' there is no 'you.' We exist as separate entities because we are defined as separate entities. Being attached to these emotions just further solidifies that idea of segregation, which segregates me from you or from an alpaca in Mongolia. This segregation is the cornerstone of the ignorance (essentially a Buddhist sin but we don't have sins) that is the main source of suffering in this world.

In 'Zen Wrapped In Karma Dipped In Chocolate' Brad Warner describes it that we're affraid to trust ourselves. Affraid to believe that we are an original Buddha and that this is in us." Well damned straight I'm affraid. I don't know if I want to be a Buddha. I don't know if I want to trust myself.

But yet here I am writing a blog about becoming my Buddha self. About bringing the Buddha, and thus, you and the alpaca, into my heart and my life.

le sigh.