Arjuna stands in his chariot between the two armies. He looks at them and sees his kin and is overwhelmed.
Then Arjuna saw in both armies fathers, grandfathers, sons, grandsons, fathers of wives, uncles, masters, brothers, companions and friends.
When Arjuna thus saw his kinsmen face to face in both lines of battle, he was overcome by grief and despair . . . --Chapter 1, verses 26-28, The Bhagavad Gita (Tr. Juan Mascaro)
Arjuna did not fall into a God-is-on-our-side mentality and condemn the "other side" to hell with righteous indignation and fury. He recognized the kinship of all. All our wars are "civil" (a strange term, on which "civil-ization" is based) wars in which brother fights against brother, kin against kin, human against human.
In his lament (verses 29 - 46), he asks the eternal question concerning war:
Even if they, with minds overcome by greed, see no evil in the destruction of a family, see no sin in the treachery to friends;
Shall we not, who see the evil of destruction, shall we not refrain from this terrible deed?
Gandhi, in his translation and commentary on the Gita, points out that though this question is a worthy one, it is based on weakness. Arjuna cannot leave the field of battle. All that will happen is that the folk on his side will be slaughtered, overrun. Then the entire kingdom would be ruled by vicious despots.
As we know, Gandhi was no fan of war. But he invented a form of war, a nonviolent form based on truth (satyagraha), to counteract the violent form of war.
It is easy to blow people apart. It is not easy to oppose others effectively while doing them no harm.
Arjuna was facing this dilemma. His initial solution was not accepted either by Gandhi or by Krishna in the story.
Here is Arjuna's initial solution: "letting fall his bow and arrows he sank down in his chariot, his soul overcome by despair and grief." --Chapter 1, verse 47
This is where we leave him for the moment. Paralyzed in the middle of a situation requiring firm strong action.
Tuesday, September 29, 2009
Friday, September 25, 2009
The Song of God: A Warrior Story
I will begin the study here of one of the greatest warrior stories ever written or told -- the story of Arjuna in the Bhagavad Gita (The Song of God).
I will be using Juan Mascaro's translation. If you wish to follow along in your own copy with whatever translation you have or choose, it will be helpful to you.
Two great armies are lined up and ready for battle on a vast plain that separates them. They are about to fight for the usual reasons humans fight: greed, hostility, and ignorance and the counter forces that rise in opposition to such. Of course, there is much more going on than that in this story, a story of how to live with wisdom in the world.
Arjuna is the leader of one army and is lamenting that he does not wish to fight. He sees that he is fighting his own kin. And isn't that always the case? We are all members of the Navel Tribe, plucked from the same vine and with the belly scar to prove it.
Krishna (God) is driving Arjuna's chariot. I start with Chapter One, Verse 21 where Arjuna says:
Drive my chariot, Krishna immortal, and place it between the two armies. That I may see those warriors who stand there eager for battle, with whom I must now fight at the beginning of this war. That I may see those who have come here eager and ready to fight, in their desire to do the will of the evil son of Dhrita-rashtra.
Arjuna wants to go out there in the middle of it all and take a look, see for himself. He doesn't just walk out there by himself. He asks his charioteer to take him. And his charioteer just happens to be the Divine. They have chosen each other as companions.
When Krishna heard the words of Arjuna he drove their glorious chariot and placed it between the two armies.
Without hesitation, Krishna did as Arjuna asked. His asking was in right alignment with the situation. Later we will see that Krishna will not follow Arjuna's wishes. Krishna is no pushover.
Notice that the two have a fine ride. It is not just a vehicle. It is a glorious vehicle. So is our body, which has been pointed to, in another holy book, as the temple of God. Here the metaphor is chariot, a glorious chariot.
Krishna takes them right into the middle of it all, places Arjuna between two opposing forces. Sounds like daily life to me. Even to walk around we have to use two opposing forces, our right leg and our left leg. Somehow we have taught them to cooperate, and they generally do, so much that we don't even think about it.
We are between opposing forces all the time, both internally and externally. As this story unfolds, maybe we will get some tips and some confirmations as to appropriate and effective action.
I will be using Juan Mascaro's translation. If you wish to follow along in your own copy with whatever translation you have or choose, it will be helpful to you.
Two great armies are lined up and ready for battle on a vast plain that separates them. They are about to fight for the usual reasons humans fight: greed, hostility, and ignorance and the counter forces that rise in opposition to such. Of course, there is much more going on than that in this story, a story of how to live with wisdom in the world.
Arjuna is the leader of one army and is lamenting that he does not wish to fight. He sees that he is fighting his own kin. And isn't that always the case? We are all members of the Navel Tribe, plucked from the same vine and with the belly scar to prove it.
Krishna (God) is driving Arjuna's chariot. I start with Chapter One, Verse 21 where Arjuna says:
Drive my chariot, Krishna immortal, and place it between the two armies. That I may see those warriors who stand there eager for battle, with whom I must now fight at the beginning of this war. That I may see those who have come here eager and ready to fight, in their desire to do the will of the evil son of Dhrita-rashtra.
Arjuna wants to go out there in the middle of it all and take a look, see for himself. He doesn't just walk out there by himself. He asks his charioteer to take him. And his charioteer just happens to be the Divine. They have chosen each other as companions.
When Krishna heard the words of Arjuna he drove their glorious chariot and placed it between the two armies.
Without hesitation, Krishna did as Arjuna asked. His asking was in right alignment with the situation. Later we will see that Krishna will not follow Arjuna's wishes. Krishna is no pushover.
Notice that the two have a fine ride. It is not just a vehicle. It is a glorious vehicle. So is our body, which has been pointed to, in another holy book, as the temple of God. Here the metaphor is chariot, a glorious chariot.
Krishna takes them right into the middle of it all, places Arjuna between two opposing forces. Sounds like daily life to me. Even to walk around we have to use two opposing forces, our right leg and our left leg. Somehow we have taught them to cooperate, and they generally do, so much that we don't even think about it.
We are between opposing forces all the time, both internally and externally. As this story unfolds, maybe we will get some tips and some confirmations as to appropriate and effective action.
Monday, September 14, 2009
mourning devotional
This needs no commentary on my part --
"The only gain of civilisation for mankind is the greater capacity for variety of sensations -- and absolutely nothing more. And through the development of this many-sidedness man may come to finding enjoyment in bloodshed. In fact, this has already happened to him. Have you noticed that it is the most civilised gentlemen who have been the subtlest slaughterers, to whom the Attilas and Stenka Razins could not hold a candle, and if they are not so conspicuous as the Attilas and Stenka Razins it is simply because they are so often met with, are so ordinary and have become so familiar to us. In any case civilisation has made mankind if not more blood-thirsty, at least more vilely, more loathsomely bloodthirsty. In old days he saw justice in bloodshed and with his conscience at peace exterminated those he thought proper. Now we do think bloodshed abominable and yet we engage in this abomination, and with more energy than ever." -- Fyodor Dostoyevsky, Notes From The Underground
"The only gain of civilisation for mankind is the greater capacity for variety of sensations -- and absolutely nothing more. And through the development of this many-sidedness man may come to finding enjoyment in bloodshed. In fact, this has already happened to him. Have you noticed that it is the most civilised gentlemen who have been the subtlest slaughterers, to whom the Attilas and Stenka Razins could not hold a candle, and if they are not so conspicuous as the Attilas and Stenka Razins it is simply because they are so often met with, are so ordinary and have become so familiar to us. In any case civilisation has made mankind if not more blood-thirsty, at least more vilely, more loathsomely bloodthirsty. In old days he saw justice in bloodshed and with his conscience at peace exterminated those he thought proper. Now we do think bloodshed abominable and yet we engage in this abomination, and with more energy than ever." -- Fyodor Dostoyevsky, Notes From The Underground
Wednesday, September 9, 2009
samurai mind trainiing
A long-time buddy of fierce spirit and generous nature sent this:
Samurai Mind Training for American Troops
The program reminds me of Richard Strozzi-Heckler's work with the Green Berets and the ensuing development of the Marine Martial Art Program.
Samurai Mind Training for American Troops
The program reminds me of Richard Strozzi-Heckler's work with the Green Berets and the ensuing development of the Marine Martial Art Program.
Friday, September 4, 2009
flossing tiger meat
Yesterday a person reminded me in our conversation of the zen story of the dude/dudess hanging by a decaying root jutting out of a cliff face with a hungy tiger above and a hungry tiger below and the dude/ss plucking a nearby strawberry, eating it and saying how delicious!
That story irritates the hell out of me. Not so much the story itself, I suppose, as the way it is interpreted. "We are in a predicament so eat the effing strawberry and enjoy it!" Which interpretation is usually followed up with a beatific smile of all knowing and omni toleration, always the sign of the beginnings of a vomitous sainthood.
Much is left out in that interpretation. Ignored. Forget the strawberry. I'm eating the tigers! Devouring those suckers whole! And the story too! I'm talking of a consciousness state here.
We are the tigers! Tigers who have successfully trapped ourselves into hanging from an uncertain rooting and all we want to do, all we can think to do is eat a strawberry! Reminds me of that president who told us the best response to world calamity was to go shopping. He knew exactly what he was talking about and to whom he was speaking. Forget the tigers, eat the strawberry.
Enough already with the strawberry! If you are going to tell me that story, you better have tiger bone marrow stuck in your teeth.
That story irritates the hell out of me. Not so much the story itself, I suppose, as the way it is interpreted. "We are in a predicament so eat the effing strawberry and enjoy it!" Which interpretation is usually followed up with a beatific smile of all knowing and omni toleration, always the sign of the beginnings of a vomitous sainthood.
Much is left out in that interpretation. Ignored. Forget the strawberry. I'm eating the tigers! Devouring those suckers whole! And the story too! I'm talking of a consciousness state here.
We are the tigers! Tigers who have successfully trapped ourselves into hanging from an uncertain rooting and all we want to do, all we can think to do is eat a strawberry! Reminds me of that president who told us the best response to world calamity was to go shopping. He knew exactly what he was talking about and to whom he was speaking. Forget the tigers, eat the strawberry.
Enough already with the strawberry! If you are going to tell me that story, you better have tiger bone marrow stuck in your teeth.
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