That’s just an awful selfie
I mean, with all of Japan’s beautiful architecture and stunning mountain-top views, why would zen master Hakuin, known to have travelled far and wide in search of enlightenment, choose to depict himself sitting in his boring old zen seat, with grandma slippers and a feather duster? Boring! Everybody knows this image would have earned WAY more likes and follows if he’d struck a pose in front of the Yellow River, panning some duck face and flashing a hand sign. At least put on some sweet new kicks, bro-friend!
Did the poet HanShan exclaim “yolo!” as he left civilization for the hermitage on Cold Mountain? Was anyone there to tweet about it if he did?
While Hildegard Von Bingen was recording all her mystical experiences, why didn’t she ever jot down her bucket list? Or did she
And, why did Henry David Thoreau continue to sit around boring Walden pond day-in, day-out, once he’d crossed off #32 build a shack and # 43 grow some beans? – AND written a whole book about it to humble brag to the Concord elite?
These days, everyone is into “Paleo” diets and “caveman” fitness, convinced that we humans evolved to live, eat and exert ourselves in a certain way, and that despite all their backwards lack of air-conditioning, our ancestors just might have known SOMETHING about how to be human. Why does nobody ever wonder what was on the Caveman’s bucketlist?
Ecologists say each species has its own Environment of Evolutionary Adaptedness, the niche in which they evolved, and in that place, their evolved actions, habits and instincts make sense! But if you remove a species from its EEA, it continues its evolved patterns, but they may no longer fit, and the species may in essence, act insane! Rather than argue over what our most human ancestors ate and drank, why not ask what the cavewoman LIVED FOR and how she LIVED?
For tens of thousands of years (and probably much, much longer) our ancestors went about living their lives, creating memories, discovering untold secrets, having adventures, building life-long deep relationships and romances, busting through personal limits, dancing with gods and goddesses, communing with the raw forces of the universe… often without ever even leaving their own villages. Instead, most of our human cultures marked their lives with journeys into dark, mysterious places, found the empty core of the universe in eachother’s souls, deconstructed the very meaning of life and put it back together in the form of something spectacular, achieved stunning magnificience in ritual and rite. Somewhere way back in your family tree was a shaman great, great, great, great grandmother who dreamt of YOU and her fondest wish for your life was that you would learn to feel the heady power of the sacred grove as she did, that over the chasm of great time and distance you and she would resonate in one-ness there together.
Or in contrast, would Henry David Thoreau look upon the jet-setting, world-travelling elite of modern Concord, and still flee their “lives of quiet desperation” in search of his hut in the woods?
In my life I’ve been privileged to travel further than 99.999% of the humans that ever lived, spoken to people in 9 different languages in their own countries, sold original works of art, music and poetry, played in a punk-rock band, sung Opera on professional stages in Europe, starred in plays (good ones!) and movies (terrible ones!) written 3 novels (yup) slept in a castle, played in a marching band, visited some of the great gardens, art and architecture of the world..
But these are not among the most profound moments, experiences and lessons of my life. Nor do they mean that I have “lived” more than those who haven’t had these experiences. Sure, I’ve had some profound experiences while visiting exotic places, but the profound parts could have just as likely (probably MORE likely) happened without ever leaving home. And what one discovers on a real adventure is found inside, and has little to do with the scenery
None of the following fundamental human experiences require belief, none require drugs, none of it requires meeting the Dalai Lama or attending expensive beach-side retreats in the tropics with world-renown “gurus.” These are not things to be bought at any prices. And these are experiences that are found in all traditions, and are open to anyone, from Christians, to Pagans, to Muslims, to Buddhists, and Atheists. I can fully believe in these fundamental human “spiritual” experiences without having to believe in anything supernatural.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m not kicking the bucket list idea entirely. At its best, the bucket idea taught a generation to live their lives, to value experiences over buying stuff, and being adventurers over being consumers. Rad. But at its worst, it makes us into consumers of our own lives, looking to buy experiences, approval and wisdom from others.
So here’s a new section for MY bucket: the vital human experience, the Caveman list, aspirations most of our human ancestors likely shared in. I really don’t ever need another selfie sipping umbrella drinks on an exotic beach, and neither did Captain Caveman. I want to journey to far darker, more mysterious, more hidden places: the room of the wolf-mother wallpaper, the room where the antler carved the drum… and shit. I’ve personally visited enough of these places to know that they are real, and well worth the price of admission. But I’m not gonna put a big checkmark next to them to show off, because they’re the sort of things you build a truly fulfilling life upon, not the kind you cross off once you’ve got the selfie.
1. Being still enough long enough that the “world rolls in ecstasy at my feet,” as Kafka said. This is a fundamental experience, sought after in all the world’s mystic traditions, because it is both a profound experience in itself, but also something that is said to deepen the every other potential experience. When one can quiet the mind, it is said we can experience our lives more directly, instead of having to squint to see reality through the tint of our own rose-colored glasses, and we can hear the song of the world without struggling over the noise of our own mental chatter. This is an experience that can be had both alone and with company, such as in the Japanese tea ceremony, or participating in contemplative arts.