Yesterday, I grabbed a fortune cookie on my way out from work that said, "Be thankful for the experience you encounter tomorrow." Even though I don't put much stock in that kind of thing, I spent most of the day looking out for said experience just for fun (and just in case).
I definitely don't think it was referring to my experience at work, which was dreadful, and the only thing thankful about it was when it was over. I suppose it could have been one of those learning experiences, where you learn a lot about yourself and the nature of suffering through experience, but the only thing I got from it was frustration.
Coincidentally, though, today is the new moon, one of the quarterly uposatha days observed in Theravada Buddhism. The uposatha, according to the Buddha, is "the cleansing of the defiled mind through the proper technique" (AN 3.70); and the traditional way of observing the uposatha for lay-followers is to observe the eight precepts for the day and spend as much time as possible meditating, emulating the monastic way of life and/or temporarily increasing one's practice of renunciation.
Admittedly, I don't observe the uposatha that often these days. But this morning I got a message from someone on the PFoD e-group who, needing a little more support and structure in their daily life to stay mindful, invited anyone who felt similarly inclined to practice with the eight precepts on the quarter moon days until the end of the year, and I felt inspired to start again.
Today was also the third inquiry class at St. Philip, and it was a somewhat unexpected and rewarding experience. The topic was stories of faith, and we were encouraged by Fr. Bill to tell our own stories of why we were there at the inquiry class. When my turn came up, I wasn't sure what to say, but I said that it basically started with my search for something deeper in life. In that search, I spent a lot of time practicing Buddhism, and recently got serious about what the Catholic tradition has to offer after my visit to Our Lady of Guadalupe.
It was interesting to hear everyone's stories and questions. Thinking about my own spiritual journey, I was surprised at how natural and comfortable the direction it's taken has felt, and I found myself wondering if it wasn't the 'holy spirit' guiding me. I mean, to think that I'm attending RCIA classes after so many years of nonbelief and being critical of the Catholic Church...
At one point, I was asked if I felt any conflict between the practice of Buddhism and Christianity, and I explained that I found them entirely compatible. Buddhist detachment isn't so different from the Christian 'dying to self.' The Buddhist teachings on loving-kindness and compassion aren't much different from Jesus' teachings on the same. The idea that we can wake up to our inherent nature through the cessation of the defilements of greed, hatred, and delusion isn't unlike the idea in 2 Peter that we "may come to share in the divine nature, after escaping from the corruption that is in the world because of evil desire." Etc.
To me, God is like the pure Mind of Zen, the substance of all phenomena, out of which all experience unfolds. And awakening is simply Mind recognizing itself, divine nature partaking of divine nature. Jesus, then, is like a buddha or bodhisattva, that very same Mind pointing us towards itself. I think this is especially true if one considers texts like the Gospel of Thomas.
And when the discussion turned towards talking to God and how/why everyone did that, I confessed that I often found myself talking to God even when I was atheist, despite not having a clear picture of who or what God was. I still don't, but I think I'm open enough now to my experience of what I feel to be God immanent in myself and the world around me that it's taken the form of what Christians typically call a 'personal relationship.'
It was slightly difficult for me to articulate a lot of this in any coherent way, though, since I'm still working it all out myself. There's a feeling tone involved in my experience, something visceral, as well as an intuitive synthesis of it all; but I'm not sure I have the vocabulary to put it all into words yet, if ever.
But telling my story and listening to those of others, I realized that I've always had an intuitive sense of something more underlying reality, and I'm drawn towards things that help me connect to that as well as help me feel the joy and peace that arises from that connection, whether it's connecting with other spiritual people, meditating, listening to music inspired by Sufi poetry, gazing at the night sky, or whatever.
Coming back to why I was there, I think the people have a lot to do with it. The kindness of Dorothy. The wisdom and humour of Fr. Michael. The openness and genuineness of Barbara. All these people and more pull me back in every week, happily, just like the community of PFoD does. But there's something more, too. Something I can't quite put my finger on. I just feel like I need to be here right now, and I certainly can't deny how much I'm getting out of my experience at St. Philip thus far.
So, in the end, it was kind of a self-fulfilling prophecy. Because of that fortune cookie, I paid a little bit more attention throughout the day. And in doing so, I was able to more fully appreciate the experience of the spiritual things in my life and the happiness they give me.
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