Not Two

by Gary on June 19, 2014 in

Facebook
Twitter
LinkedIn

are you catholic or prot cartoonThe Tao doesn’t take sides; it gives birth to both good and evil. The Master doesn’t take sides; she welcomes both saints and sinners.           Tao Te Ching by Lao-tzu translated by Stephen Mitchell

“Well,” an acquaintance at the gym asked me the other day out of the blue, “what do you think of the black guy who came out gay the other day before the NFL draft?”

I said, “Does that disturb you old white guys?”

Hey, I was smiling, but I don’t participate in bigoted conversations just to get along.

“Yeah, maybe it does,” he said, looking down and away now, withdrawing his full attention from my insolence.

“I just have a reaction when I see them kissing on the lips,” he said demurely.

“It doesn’t bother me,” I said.

“Maybe I’m talking to the wrong guy,” he said, smiling slyly as if to suggest that I might be one of those men who likes to kiss men of another race.

He had accomplished separating us from each other in less than 60 seconds, and I was tempted to split us apart further, categorizing him as a stupid old conservative rich white guy who is hopelessly bigoted and still trying to find allies for his ancient fears and primitive hatreds.

My self importance must have been pricked (what made him think he could implicate me in his nastiness? Do I look like someone who doesn’t approve of gays and minorities?)

My negative assessment of him was instantaneous: he’s on the other side.

My judgment separated us, and I lost a connection with him. I wasn’t grateful at the moment, and not at all creative. I wasn’t lighthearted: earnest.

Easily sucked into his murky state of consciousness, I slip back into a familiar state of feeling superior. I am clearly better than this old fart.

Yikes, the master of poise loses his poise.

Why Not Two

It was an ancient master of awareness who said, “Not two.”

He, like many of the masters, was pointing out the unity of all that we perceive.

Thus, “Not two.”

They believed that everything is connected seamlessly even though they also saw that most of us humans fail to see the unity.

The masters of awareness see only the One.

In seeing only the One, a cosmos that is doing only one thing because it is a single reality, these masters sustained their poise, undisturbed by anything or anyone.

Seeing only the One, the masters saw that humans are part of the One, not separate from it or from any aspect of it.

To see only the One, the masters lived in a Christ consciousness that makes it logical to love others as ourselves. Others aren’t separate from us. We are joined together unequivocally and irrevocably.

If we separate ourselves from others, we are nuts. Thus, judge not that you not be judged.

If we separate ourselves in any way, we move outside the life force, Insisting on our separate identity, we will make mistake after mistake, insisting that we are different, solo operators who know best, ever defining ourselves by how different we are from others.

Our modern understanding of this profound issue is enhanced by physics, which has now proved that everything in the universe is connected. If we move two joined electrons to opposite ends of the universe and change the spin direction of one of them, the electron at the other end of the universe reverses spin at the same time.

Nothing is separate.

Not two.

Why I like to separate myself from others

  1. My ego is fed; it likes to be superior—smart, more aware, at an advantage.
  2. I don’t have to do the work of loving.
  3. I can dismiss certain people from my life for good—ostracize them, teach them a lesson, punish them.

But now, sustaining my poise, I am reborn.

“Overs!” we used to say as kids when we demanded a second chance in a game.

Back to the gym: overs!  I could have done it this way:

My acquaintance says to me out of the blue, “What do you think of the black guy who came out gay the other day before the NFL draft?”

Sustaining my poise, I say, “Yes, I know the story, why?”

“I just have a reaction when I see them kissing on the lips,” he says.

“It doesn’t bother me,” I say, pleasantly, present and connected.

“Maybe I’m talking to the wrong guy,” he said, smiling slyly as if to suggest that I might be one of those men who likes to kiss men of another race.

“Well,” I say, “maybe you’re talking to the right guy. Is it possible that you need to take a look at this issue and you picked me instinctively because I feel connected to all people, including gays and minorities?”

“Whoa. I doubt it. I just get uncomfortable seeing something unnatural like a black man kissing a white man on the lips. I don’t think it’s right.”

I’m grateful to be alive today, standing here in the middle of the gym, not minding at all what is happening.

Creative and lighthearted, I say, “I wonder why you stopped me to talk about this discomfort of yours? And, by the way, I’m happy to talk to you about it.”

At this point at least a couple of things might have happened next:

v     Embarrassed, he stalks off dropping some face-saving shot on me like, “I don’t want to talk about it anymore—now that you’ve made a big issue out of it. As I said, maybe I’m talking to the wrong guy.”

Or

v     Intrigued, he says, “I don’t know why I brought this up to you. Maybe I would like to talk about this issue. How about continuing this over a beer or a coffee some time?”

Either way, my ego, drying up in some remote corner of the universe, I have my love flowing.

Not two.

by Gary on June 19, 2014 in

Facebook
Twitter
LinkedIn

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *