The Nature of Craving

We’re trapped in a hungry animal. Gasping for air, thirsty all the time, burning fuel like a Colorado wildfire – we have, shall we say, certain needs. And no matter how much air, water and food we devour, our needs go on unabated. There is no end to the hunger.

Life itself is one giant alimentary canal. Life-forms go in one end, poop comes out the other. I didn’t make the rules. This is just the way it is.

To demonize desire, therefore, is to demonize life.

But we also recognize that our desires are not very smart. They don’t have a brain. If left unchecked, they’d kill us. Addiction, obesity, debauchery, all manner of disease-causing overconsumption – desire is a terrible steward of the life-form it inhabits.

Without desire, we’re dead. With desire, our lives are in constant peril. Philosophers have long struggled with this paradox, working hard to draw a line between healthy and unhealthy hunger.  From their work a few simple principles emerge. Since desire itself is neither good nor evil it falls on our skills of discernment to distinguish the good from the bad. Pious platitudes and blanket taboos fail where subtler insights prevail. It’s time for us to grow up and move into a more sophisticated philosophy of desire.

Perhaps a simple test, consisting of a few salient questions, could help us steer a course through the minefield of our endless hunger.

When faced with a craving, ask yourself the following seven questions:

1.      If I do this, will it bring me real joy and deep satisfaction, as opposed to merely short-term pleasure?

2.      Will it expand my ability to be of service to others?

3.      Does it resonate with my higher sensibilities?

4.      Would I consent to public disclosure of this activity, as opposed to secrecy?

5.      Would this activity leave me with a lingering sense of beauty, as opposed to regret, embarrassment or shame?

6.      Is this proposed activity rooted in love of self and others? 

7.      Is this activity rooted in honoring the inherent dignity of all living things?

If you can answer yes to one of these questions then your desire is a healthy one. Do it. And by the way – if you answer yes to one of these questions, you’ve implicitly answered yes to all of them.

If you cannot answer yes to even one of these questions then your desire is an unhealthy one. Don’t do it. It won’t further your own interest or anyone else’s.

Behind this simple strategy is the idea that each of us carries within us an internal moral compass, a deeply ingrained and universal sense of right and wrong. Religious teachings, sacred texts and well-constructed ethical philosophies are nice, but they tend to create as many problems as they solve. The Bible is a good example. It contains some of the most sublime moral teachings ever written alongside some of the worst examples of cruelty, ignorance and bigotry in the history of religion. We must read any sacred text with our hearts awake, our God-given minds engaged and our intuition open to the sublime insights inspired in us by the words of the ancients. Our philosophies and theologies serve us best when they call us to our own wisdom.

Wanting to expand the scope of one’s life through the acquisition of new skills and the mastery of a craft is not wrong. It is not wrong to want to be more, to see more, to know more, to grow more. As long as your longing for expansion aligns with the seven questions, you’re fine. Nothing’s gained by playing it small and hiding your light. If carried out with humility, self-respect, love for others and the consciousness of service, pursuing one’s own greatness brings a much needed blessing to the world. A tree does not apologize for growing. Why should we? We are all blessed by the abundance of a tree’s fragrant fruit and sheltering shade. Having no ego, the tree is never foolish enough to claim credit. It just stands there with nothing to prove, allowing its inherent magnificence to do all the talking. Successful people understand this, and see their prosperity in this same light.

Seeking wealth, fame and power over others to fill an aching wound, on the other hand, is a pathological craving that generates only suffering for oneself and others. It violates one, and therefore all of the seven questions. Without humility and the consciousness of service, our growth, acquisition and expansion take on a cancerous quality that threatens the health of the whole. Seen through the lens of competition, we view the success of others with envy and covetousness. We cannot be happy unless we have more than everyone else. No matter how skillful we become at attracting material wealth, joy eludes us because we see ourselves in conflict with everyone and everything instead of as an integral expression of the universe in harmonious concert with itself.

In this light, drug addiction, alcoholism, overeating, serial shopping, and all other forms of compulsive acquisition are not moral weakness as much as they are cognitive errors – faulty calculations of how best to maximize our long-term self-interest. The active meth addict and the clean and sober meth addict in recovery are both pursuing their self-interest. One is simply objectively better at it than the other. We all naturally lean toward the good. Some of us are just better at figuring out what that actually means.

The great Christian theologian Thomas Aquinas and the pagan Plato agree – there is only one power and presence in the universe and it is the Good. Whether we of our own free will come to understand it and manifest it through our choices and actions is another matter entirely.

This is why it is so important, on both a personal and societal level, that each of us does the hard work of relentless and unflinching self-examination. It’s the only thing that works. It’s the only way to break the spell our bad habits and unconscious cravings cast over us. When we do not have clarity and vision and act instead from our mindless conditioning, great harm results, to ourselves and to those around us.

Hunger and desire are not the problem. They never were. They were convenient scapegoats upon which to heap all the blame. Our Puritanical impulses are born of this great misunderstanding. It’s not censorship and abstinence we need – it’s consciousness and awakening, grounded in compassion for ourselves and others. Say yes to that which serves our highest good and no to that which doesn’t. It’s not complicated. It’s not mysterious. We carry within us the gold standard by which all actions can be tested – our God-given minds, our awakening hearts and our memory of what worked and didn’t work in the past. We know what to do and we know how to do it. All that’s left is a decision.

The Five Questions

There is nothing as powerful as a question. Answers close everything down. Questions open everything up.

In our efforts to improve our lives, our careers, our relationships, and our creative output it’s important to spend some quality time with a handful of good questions.

What really matters to me?

There are so many conflicting demands made on our attention. It’s easy to feel overwhelmed. Before you know it, the day is gone. And what do you have to show for it? Every moment requires a decision in the face of an infinite array of possibilities. The moments turn to hours, the hours turn to days, and before you know it, another year is gone. And you never know how many of those you have left. The little things add up and become the whole. Our life is the sum of our decisions. “How we spend our days,” wrote Annie Dillard, “is, of course, how we spend our lives.” It’s vitally important that we by any means necessary clarify our values and order our priorities. There is no time to waste time. Make room for what really matters. As Stephen Covey says, put first things first. Whatever doesn’t fit gets dropped. Learn how to be o.k. with this.

A good way to re-order your priorities is by asking this next question.

Why am I doing this?

We do things for a lot of different reasons, some valid, some empty. Start being more careful about what you say yes to. Honestly assess the quality and value of the experiences you sign up for. Are you a thoughtful steward of your time, talent and treasure? What are you getting out of this? A tangible benefit? The joy of contributing to a worthy cause? Do these actions help cement a relationship that is important to me? Or am I doing this just to curry favor and feed my ego? There are no hard and fast rules here. Again, the question is so much more important, so much more vitally alive than the answer. When we live in the why, we stay open to the flashes of intuition and insight that guide us through the challenging terrain of motive.

What do we owe each other?

We do not live alone, no matter how isolated we feel. Our lives are inexorably bound up in the lives of everyone and everything else. We breathe the same air, share the same space and support each other in innumerable ways. Our decision making needs to begin in the realization of our complete and utter interdependency. From that foundation it becomes clear that our society comes with a contract – the moral obligation to take responsibility for co-creating a world that works for everyone. That being said, we cannot offer ourselves up as martyrs on the altars of other people’s self-absorption. Finding the line between altruism and self-love is the work of every thinking man and woman. Compassionate action must be our guiding principle, including compassion for ourselves – why should we be excluded? Again, there are no hard and fast rules, just a formless, living awareness of our interdependency and a simultaneous acknowledgment of our personal liberty and responsibility. We cannot save everyone we meet from their own bad choices. But we also know that our fates are intertwined, and a blind eye and closed fist is a miserable response that shuts us off from our own happiness.

What is happiness?

When you keep it simple, happiness is simply feeling comfortable in your own skin. It’s a word we use to describe a general sense of well-being born of a thousand mothers – external circumstances, biology, the actions of others and our own free-will decision to choose happiness in spite of all those things.  Without putting too fine a point on it, we all know what happiness is, yet we must keep this question open and alive if we are to move through the minefield of the myriad conflicting demands placed on us.  We have to develop a subtle understanding of long-term self-interest. The willingness to sacrifice momentary, fleeting pleasures for long-term well-being is the watermark of maturity. Discipline, mastery and self-restraint create the conditions in which our deepest and most authentic joy can thrive. For Aristotle, happiness is the result of risk-taking, hard work, and the courageous cultivation of our innate potential. Having the will power to nurture our own excellence and avoid the dissipation of trivial pursuits is an essential component of the well-lived life. And yet we must avoid thinking of happiness as a distant goal, an endpoint achievable only after we arrange all of the outer elements of our lives in accord with our whimsical demands. Nothing outside of us makes us happy. Happiness is a decision. It is quality of being, not a passive response to favorable stimuli.  Pay attention to the subtle, fluid nature of your own emotional weather systems. Know that while there are always going to be ups and downs, it is possible to move in the general direction of happiness. One of the best ways to do that is to ask yourself this next question.

What am I?

Not Who am I? but What am I? Who am I? simply elicits a long list of labels and social definitions – man, woman, child, son, daughter, brother, sister, husband, wife, college student, job description, nationality, introvert, extrovert, political affiliation, ad infinitum. When the list is done, you’re still no closer to the real question. What’s beneath all of those masks? Don’t let the brevity or the childlike simplicity of the question fool you. This is a tough one. I know this sounds strange, but don’t let the mind rush to an answer – it will gladly offer up all of the usual suspects: a soul, a body, a spirit, a mass of protoplasm. The mind is incapable of answering this question – how could it?  The mind is a function of the self, not its source. Asking the mind to define the mind is like asking your eyes to see your eyes. Confused? That’s the point. The mind is out of its depth here. Like a Zen koan, the question Who am I? nudges us through the veil that divides our surface consciousness from the depths of our inner witness, a profound and wordless knowing that hums with the energy of Being itself.  How can a wave know that it is the entirety of the sea while it is utterly identified with the wave-state?

Again, as much as we long to run into the arms of every awaiting answer, it is far more powerful to simply remain in the uncertainty created by the imposition of the question itself. As magnets attract iron, questions attract insight.  Answers, on the other hand, attract argument.

 Socrates lived his life, and ultimately gave his life, in the pursuit of self-knowledge. The dialogues of Plato that tell his story are masterful testimonies to the power of inquiry. Socrates wasn’t interested in cataloging the qualities of things; it was their essence he was after – beauty, truth, justice, and the good. And most importantly, what are we in the face of this eternal mystery?

Learn to trust the authority of your own inner voice. There is wisdom in the field of awareness, available to anyone willing to become silent enough to hear it. Take the time to listen. If you aren’t already, begin journaling. Take these questions into your prayer and meditation. In one way or another, make it a daily practice to spend time in the contemplation of the five questions.

The Golden Rule

[This article first appeared in the July/August 2013 edition of Unity Magazine and is reproduced here with permission.]

“One going to take a pointed stick to poke a baby bird should first

try it on himself to feel how it hurts.” – Yoruba proverb, Nigeria

Everyone knows the golden rule – do unto others as you would have them do unto you.  A quick Google search gives you all the examples you need.  In one form or another the golden rule is found in all religions and ethical philosophies.  Christianity, Judaism, Islam, Hinduism, Buddhism, Taoism, Confucianism and beyond – all the world’s sages sing the one song of our inherent interconnectedness and our sacred duty to treat others as ourselves.

The golden rule begins in empathy and ends in right action.  First we must understand our identity with others and the mutually binding interests we share.  With this fundamental understanding in place the foundation is set – we are now free to act in accord with our principles, knowing that our actions co-create our highest good.  Right action is not born from self-interest but from a broader, more universal awareness of the good, an impulse grounded in the insight that I cannot thrive while my brothers and sisters are not thriving.  When we serve others our own interests are served, automatically and indirectly.  This is what the Dalai Lama meant when he said, “Considering the interests of others is clearly the best form of self-interest.” 

The simplicity of the golden rule heightens its appeal.  Properly followed, it renders all other rules moot.  In Confucianism the virtue of shu or reciprocity calls us to be aware of the impact we have others.  “What is hateful to you,” Confucius said, “do not do to others.” Every transgression would be prevented by the proper application of this simple maxim. If we saw our selves through the eyes of others, our words and actions would naturally soften and grow more compassionate. 

In an uncanny parallelism from the Talmud, Rabbi Hillel says, “What is hateful to you, do not do to others.  This is the entire Law; all the rest is commentary.” It’s as if the golden rule contains in encapsulated form all of the learned complexity of the world’s voluminous ethical and religious codes.  Even St. Augustine, a staunch teacher if there ever was one, leaves us with a simple task, reducing Christian ethics to a seven word motto: “Love God and do what you will.”  By calling for all thought and action to be rooted in a condition of consciousness in which one is lovingly aligned with God, Augustine bypasses all of the intellectual hand-wringing and second guessing that commonly plagues ethical reasoning and gets right to the heart of the matter – a child-like state where right-action and kindness flow like water.  When you begin with love for what is right and true, your actions will fall into accord with what is right and true, and the people will prosper.

The golden rule is not information.  It’s a reminder.  It calls us back to our higher natures, our inherent kindness and our commitment to affirm the infinite value of all sentient beings.  It’s simple enough for a child to understand, yet deep enough to occupy the most skillful philosophers for millennia.  It stands like an ancient monument, yet it’s perennially fresh and invites us in anew moment by moment.  And its universality points to a possibility – that regardless of the wide variety of surface inflections and cultural diversity found in the world’s wisdom traditions, there is an underlying commonality in the human experience that transcends time and culture.  We are far more alike than different.  Our unity is affirmed by our universal values.

We all carry the golden rule within us.  Whether we attune to it or not is another matter.  We are free to ignore it any time we want, and follow instead the dictates and longings of our endless woundedness.  But when we come back to our sacred core we feel once again the inherent wellness of our hearts, and know that we are safe, and that there is always enough.  Only then do we dare to love and be loved, falling into the arms of a truth unbound by space and time – the law of our own infinite value.  And with new eyes we immediately see that all the blessed others around us share in this infinite stance, this infinite abundance.  It is from here that the golden rule makes perfect sense.  We wouldn’t have it any other way.  

The Good, the Bad and the Ugly

[A version of this article was originally published in the July/August 2013 edition of Unity Magazine in the "A to Zen" column, and is reprinted here with permission.]

“Truth is One, the sages call it by many names.” – Rig Veda

Religion is the ugliest thing in the world.

Religion is the most beautiful thing in the world.

Now what?

Even a cursory glance at human history reveals a long parade of pain, often driven by the drumbeat of religious arrogance and ideological fanaticism. From prehistory to today’s headlines, drop the needle anywhere on the sad record of human affairs and a mournful noise threatens to drown out the fragile beauty of the world. Again and again the spiritual insights of brilliant teachers were pounded into oppressive ideologies by fearful overlords. The alloys of our compassionate wisdom were forged into swords by the fires of hatred. Crusades, conquests, tribal genocides and ethnic cleansings have always been with us. It’s easy to sympathize with John Lennon in his immortal classic Imagine as he wonders if the human race would be better off without religion. But even in the midst of the Holocaust, Anne Frank saw something bright and everlasting through the vale of tears. “In spite of everything,” she wrote, “I still believe that people are really good at heart.”

Incalculable human suffering is rooted in religious and ideological acrimony, but a contrary fact is also true: the cure for the disease of hatred and violence is found within the principles and practices of the world’s religions. People with deep religious and spiritual convictions do enormous good in the world. Because of their experiential knowing that something sacred and profoundly real is at work in the world (some call it God), religious and spiritual people are willing to emerge from their comfortable cocoons and join together with others in communities defined by purpose, sacred service and right action. They are willing, often at great risk to themselves, to help others. As an antidote is crafted from poison, religion is both the disease and the cure.

As both a blessing and curse, the paradoxical nature of religion has caused great confusion and, in some, debilitating apathy. No matter how you slice it, religion is a many-headed Hydra that defies simple classification. You’ll find whatever you’re looking for. Horrors and beauties abound. It all depends on what you’re looking for.

What we intend to search for in this column is evidence that religion and spirituality in all its many forms offers the best and brightest hope for spurring humankind toward an awakening – an awakening that draws us toward the manifestation of our highest good both as individuals and as a whole. We will comb the world’s wisdom traditions from the Vedas to the Qu’ran, from the Gita to the Torah, from Patanjali to Pythagoras, from the Tao te Ching to the Dhamapada, from the Gospels to the Simpsons – in short, everything from A to Zen. We know, as the Vedas proclaimed three thousand years ago, that “Truth is One – the sages call it by many names,” and no matter where we look, we will find gold.

Truth may be One, but religions are not all the same. They emphasize different facets of the human dilemma, they are founded on often wildly conflicting assertions about human nature and the nature of the universe, they are crafted from different levels of consciousness, they seek specific solutions to specific cultural, social and historical contexts that may no longer exist. But despite the differing surface inflections, there is an underlying unity beneath the waves. It is our goal to look below the surface and find that underlying unity. Despite the apparent cacophony, the great religions of the world are echoes of one ancient song, a song best sung in the here and now by all of us raising our beautiful, disparate voices together as one.

Intention vs. Attachment

It’s important to have goals. How can you build or create anything without first envisioning it, imagining it, wanting it?

Yet clinging too tightly to a specific outcome is destructive to the living, breathing evolutionary process that any real growth entails. How can we make peace with this paradox? How can we simultaneously hold fast while letting go?

An essential quality of wisdom is the ability to discern between intention and attachment.

Intention is a powerful condition of consciousness, a thought-action that reverberates out into the surrounding field re-ordering the elements of the field. Like radio waves, intention travels unseen at the speed of light, bending around corners and influencing the fabric of space and time. Our intentions draw things toward us the way magnets attract and align iron filings. In true intention there is no attachment to any particular outcome – that would be hubris and ultimately destructive to our aims. We simply set intentions, take the next indicated step and let go.

Attachment, on the other hand, is a pathological, egoic, fear-based need to control the people, situations and events in the world around us. Imposing our private preferences on the uncarved whole of the world robs life of its spontaneous, evolutionary energy. Our short-sighted craving places limits on the unlimited potential of the now moment – limits that ultimately restrict the flow of the universe’s infinite abundance into our lives. It’s a terrible irony – by craving we push everything away.

Intention is a state of deep receptivity. Attachment is an impenetrable shell.

Intention is a state of deep cooperation with what is. Attachment is a futile struggle against what is, characterized by resentment, fear and victim-consciousness.

Intention roots deep in the consciousness of gratitude and savors the journey. Attachment is a childish sense of entitlement fueled by grandiose fantasies and fixation on selfish and arbitrarily contrived expectations.

So how do we put this into practice?

Let’s start with a vision. If money were no object, and if the path was wide open, what would you be doing with your life? In other words, if the how were taken care of, what would you be? It’s vitally important to separate the how from the what because once you really commit in full intention to the what, the how takes care of itself. Intention is an aligning energy that orders the surrounding field. Fixating on the how – the logistical complexity and all the hurdles – draws precious energy and resources away from the womb of intention, the great Mother that gives birth to the what.

So you want to be a large animal veterinarian, or a professional musician, or publish a book, or create a non-profit service organization, or work to reverse environmental degradation, or write the next great app. How do you begin?

Let’s talk about farming.

A farmer intends to raise a crop of tomatoes. But she knows she doesn’t really control the process. She merely cuts the channel through which the power of life flows, fully aware that she is not the source of the power. Her stance is one of deep cooperation, not imposition.

It begins with the end in mind – a vision of a bountiful yield. Then comes all the hard work – learning everything you can about every aspect of your endeavor, preparing the soil, finding the right seeds, putting the right kind of team together, co-creating the best possible conditions in which your seeds can unfold from the core of their essential nature, willingly and reverently sacrificing your time, talent and treasure in the singular focus of your aim, all the while knowing that anything and everything could change, and at any given moment you might have to start dancing.

Then you wait.

Remember, you are as much witnessing this process as creating it. A state of deep humility is far more productive than arrogance. We don’t control the weather – the frost, the rain, the heat, the drought – nor do we control the caterpillars or the blackbirds that come and pluck the caterpillars away. We do everything we can to prepare for all likely situations, but in the end our only sane stance is complete and utter surrender. When our fists are clenched we feel only our own fingernails digging into our palms. When our hands are open we feel the sun and the moon and the wind and we are more readily able to receive what is given. And when the harvest is ready, a budding joy comes to fruition along with our tomatoes because there is nothing more satisfying than aligning our energies with the larger forces around us.

This is the great paradox – it is only through surrender that we grow strong, it is only through generosity that we receive everything we need, it is only by emptying out that we become full, it is only by letting go of our slavish attachment to a particular outcome that the highest possible good is able to manifest itself in our lives. Yet there must be intention and clarity of vision. Cooperating with what is already unfolding is different than sitting back and waiting for something to happen. The first requires a state of great alertness. The second looks a lot like napping.

When we fail to discern the difference between intention and attachment, two confusions emerge. The first confusion is the mistaken belief that intention and attachment are the same – that intention is just a fancy word for self-centered craving and hence is to be avoided. People who hold this mistaken view tend to hide from the world, hide their own light, shun success and see ambition as a dirty word. They distrust powerfully creative people while secretly envying them. They bad-mouth the trappings of success and cop an attitude of smug superiority to ward off the chill of their own poverty of spirit.

The second confusion is the mistaken belief that self-seeking and clawing your way to the top is the highest good. Here the line between healthy growth and selfish craving is blurred. The empty pursuit of fame, wealth and glory may result in an accumulation of the outward trappings of success, but the hole inside is never filled. In both of these mistaken approaches, our authentic joy is never realized.

That’s why discerning the difference between intention and attachment is so important. It may be the most important thing of all. Otherwise, all our work is muddled and confused, lost in the dark and far away from the light of the truth that our deepest joy is inexorably intertwined with the joy of others, and only when we work in the consciousness of service are we liberated from cage of our own ego.

Have a vision. Feel deeply where your heart wants to go, and cultivate the courage to follow. Be truthful, have clarity and be specific. But keep a loose hold on the reins and let the road show you where to go. The end is secured by the confidence of the intention. Attachment, on the other hand, constricts the flow and leads only to stagnation. Stay open and highly alert. Perception and awareness are more important than cleverness and guile. Answer the call of your soul – begin now to do the important work of discerning the difference between intention and attachment.