Tea, Zen and snow

Ok, I'm a (somewhat) happy camper this evening. Drove up to Baltimore today to finally check out a tea shop that I found through, of all places, MySpace: Teavolve. Coffee shops are cool spots but, as a non-coffee drinker, I find the alternative offerings sometimes a bit lacking. So, now I have a great tea spot for my wanderings to the west (Sharazade's in Shep'town) and a great tea spot for my wanderings to the east (Teavolve in B'more). That makes me happy.

I'm close to the end of Zen...Motor Maint. Anyone watching my facial expressions as I was reading in the tea shop this afternoon probably thought I was nuts but, man, this book just keeps astonishing me. Near the end of his quest to explain Quality, Phaedrus (Yeah, it's a weird name. Want an explanation? You have to read the book.) goes back to pre-Aristotelian/Platonic/Socratic Greek philosophy for a study of the Cosmologists and Sophists. I recall passing references to all of the above in Intro to Philosophy, but then I got hooked on the Stoics (who bear more than a passing resemblance to Buddhists) and never explored any of the others. I think it's time, especially in the case of the Sophists. Phaedrus' revelation was my own this afternoon, on discovering the concept of arete:

Phaedrus is fascinated too by the description of the motive of "duty towards self" which is an almost exact translation of the Sanskrit word dharma, sometimes described as the "one" of the Hindus. Can the dharma of the Hindus and the "virtue" of the Greeks be identical?
That which we translate 'virtue' but is in Greek 'excellence.'"
Quality! Virtue! Dharma! That is what the Sophists were teaching. Not ethical relativism. Not pristine "virtue". But arete. Excellence. Dharma!...

"...Arete implies a respect for the wholeness or oneness of life, and a consequent dislike of specialization. It implies a contempt for efficiency ---or rather a much higher idea of efficiency, an efficiency which exists not in one department of life but in life itself."

Now, I consider myself something of an efficiency expert. I'm organized, detail-oriented and, usually, very focused. It's what makes me good at my job. In many ways, my job is great. It's very well suited to my natural aptitudes, and I've been allowed a lot of flexibility in tailoring it to be that way. For the most part, the people I work with are thoughtful and intelligent. And the pay don't suck. But as I've learned more about myself in recent years, I've realized that this job is diametrically opposed to many of the principles I've formed. I'm the inventory manager for a high-end jewelry store. Everything I do in my position is for the encourgagement of conspicuous consumption. The cost (not the retail price, the cost) of a single diamond could buy at least one new car, or feed half the homeless people in the city for who knows how long. And then there are the issues with child labor in Indian diamond cutting facilities, and "blood" diamonds in Sierra Leone (Supposedly all of the stones we sell have been certified conflict-free according to the Kimberly Process. I guess I believe that.). Normally, I try to squelch these thoughts and focus on what I do in a more abstract sense, looking at the inventory as a big puzzle to be solved rather than a bunch of over-priced baubles no one needs. I realize what a freaking hypocrite this makes me, but the damned job pays for me to have a nice home and indulge in things like books, vacations, a bicycle and a kayak. And, as I said, the work environment is great, and the company donates a fair amount of money and merchandise to charitable organizations (with an advertising tag, though. Of course.).

Plus, the fact that I have a purely retail background and only a handful of college-level classes on my resume would make it damned hard to find anything else to do that wouldn't require starting from scratch with at least a 50% reduction in pay. What would you do? Seriously. If anyone reading this would give up a comfortable lifestyle working in the only industry they know purely for the sake of principle, then I'll nominate you for Buddhahood. (And please don't message me that you would. I've been making myself depressed enough over this lately.)

So, how to deal with it? How to incorporate the career path I've been walking with the new dharma path I'm attempting to walk? Is striving for arete enough? If I can acheive that higher idea of efficiency, that excellence, in some departments of life, is that enough? Or am I just fooling myself?

The other thing I wondered about this afternoon is the amount of time I've been spending in tea and coffee shops lately, instead of outdoors. My "thing" is spending my days off outside, hiking, pedaling, paddling, exploring... It's not like this winter's been a rough one, what with the bizarrely warm temperatures the east coast had up until this week. I was heavily into cycling until the first or second weekend in December, at which time I thought I'd head back into the woods for hiking. But I haven't felt compelled to. Part of the past few weeks has been dedicated to retail/family/general holiday stuff, but there've been days in between when all I've wanted to get out of the house for was a good meal and a good book. Plus, there's been this MySpace thing and my new obsession with communicating with strangers. As with so many other things, I realize it's not going to be this intense an obsession for too long, so I'm calling this my "intellectual, analytical phase" and letting it go at that. The woods will still be there when I come out of it (if the damned developers haven't paid the governor of Maryland to let them pave over every tree in the state by then).

It began to snow lightly while I was in B'more. As I headed out of town, there was probably, maybe, a quarter of an inch of snow on the roads. It took twice as long to drive home than usual because of four (4) serious accidents I passed on the way. Give me a dry road and I'll put my lead foot on the gas and fly. But I learned at a young age that when the road's wet, snowy, or icy, you slow the hell down to a reasonable speed. People who can't learn that make me want to get a bazooka. And the Buddha's probably now rolling in whatever entity he currently resides in (Get it? He can't roll in his grave because his spirit would have moved on to a new incarnation... Yeah, well, I've never claimed to be a comedian.).

Enough.

One point of difference between Eastern philosophies and the "Big 3"

From Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance:

"...the doctrinal differences among Hinduism and Buddhism and Taoism are not anywhere near as important as doctrinal differences among Christianity and Islam and Judaism. Holy wars are not fought over them because verbalized statements about reality are never presumed to be reality itself."

Interesting point. When you're not dead-set (no pun intended) on proving that your view of reality's the "right" one, there's a lot less to fight about.

Total freedom

Today has been one of those days. Got my butt out of bed and moving at a decent time for a change. Weather forecast for partly sunny skies but a chance of rain later. So, I headed out to Shepherdstown to my favorite tea shop, Shaharazade's. I had a feeling as I got onto Route 340 at Frederick that things were gonna be good. Since it was still fairly early (8:30-9:00 am-ish), most everyone else was either still at home or at church, which left the roads nice and clear. I flew through the rolling piedmont hills of Maryland, Virginia, and then West Virginia on the way to Shep'town, with a new Chris Cornell mix cd playing at full volume and a mouthful of bubblegum. Pulled up in front of Sharazade's and went in to find my favorite table empty and waiting for me. Ordered the excellent fritatta and a pot of Keemun Imperial and slouched down to read some Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance.

After breakfast, I couldn't resist a stroll through Shep'town and headed through the historic district up to a little park that sits on a cliff next to the Potomac River. The highlight of the park, aside from the view, is a surprisingly impressive monument to James Rumsey, the inventor of the steamship. So there I ended up, sitting below the Rumsey Monument, overlooking a sweeping curve of the Potomac and feeling completely, totally at peace. I keep thinking about how the only times I ever feel this way are when I'm alone. It was that realization that led me to cut ties with my last group of friends a year or so ago. Sitting in a place like this, feeling this way and thinking deeply, a part of me wishes I had someone with whom to share it, savor it, and discuss it. The rest of me, though, knows from past experience that it rarely ever works out the way I imagine it. It's only when I'm alone that I can relax enough to drop the self-consciousness and really be myself. When I'm around other people, no matter how close the friendship, the persona switches on and I find myself re-playing things later and wondering how much was me and how much the act my persona puts on to be accepted. Also, there's the reality of other people. In any given scenario, no matter how well you know a person, you can't script what they're going to say or how they're going to act. You run the risk of them saying or doing something that can totally spoil the mood. I want to share the things and places that are special to me, but I don't want them to be demeaned if the person I'm sharing them with doesn't appreciate them in the way I do. I've found it better to just have these great moments on my own and get the most out of them. Kind of bittersweet that way, but so far the sweet outweighs the bitter.

Walking back from the park, I remembered a young girl who stood in line in front of me at an A Perfect Circle concert a few years ago. Waiting to get in for the show, I listened to her talking to her friend, going on and on about how she perceived of herself as being weird and alone and how she despaired of finding someone who would accept her and relate to her. She interspersed this personal stuff with various comments about how she thought Maynard James Keenan is God. I came so close to laughing out loud. Not at her. Well, not entirely at her. I had two thoughts that night, based on her ramblings:

1) The lyrics he writes indicate to me that MJK is way too aware of his own humanity to perceive of himself as any kind of a god.

- and -
2) That I would have loved the opportunity to have this little girl read some of the journals I wrote back when I was her age. Some of what she was spouting was almost verbatim what I wrote way back then. She wasn't so different and alone as she thought, she just wasn't well-read enough or experienced enough to know any better. And neither was I at that age. Hell, I'm still writing that kind of stuff.

Only a few things get to me like a beautiful ribbon of pavement rolling out in front of me, up and over hills and curling around curves... At one point on the drive back from Shep'town, I found myself singing along at the top of my lungs to Audioslave's "Wide Awake" with the biggest fool-ass grin on my face. Now, "Wide Awake" is not a happy song. Cornell wrote it in response to Dubya Bush and the Hurricane Katrina situation. But at that moment, the words weren't what was moving me. I was freaking high on fast speed and a good road, sunshine, and the fact that I was consistently able to stay on-key with Chris Cornell. While I've often considered experimenting with drugs, at moments like that I really wonder if any drug could top the euphoria I felt.

Unfortunately, being under the influence of that euphoria prompted me to stop at the bicycle shop on the way home and shell out $100 on new gear for my pony. Ah well, it's all good. The pony induces its own high.