Take Internet for example – most of the protocols that make it what it is are beautifully simple, concentrated on their purpose, describable in a new sentences. In fact, it takes no more than 20 minutes to explain to any computer-literatre lay-user all they need to know to understand why the Net works.

Opposite is also true. Complex visions, ideas requiring lengthy, vague explanations are crap more frequently than not.

It also applies to business. Success comes to those focused on a simple goal, not to those who want to catch all the birds at the same time and completely change the face of the planet. Simple ideas, ambitious goals and hard work are the step stones on the path to achievement.

I thank my father for teaching me to be always suspicious of ideas that can’t be told in a few words, brief and simple.

A flower is beautiful not because it objectively is, it is beautiful because we believe in it. If we didn’t it would be just a reproductive organ of a plant, something commonplace, that will surely wither and die one day. Same object, two ways of experiencing it.

Indeed, reality is not fixed and objective. It’s something our minds cook for us. Skepticism, disbelief, pessimism are conditions of the mind that cause it to experience a limiting, stressing, sadly grey world. There must be some cure for them, I just wish I knew what it is. Because it is so sad to see people I care deeply for suffer from them. And not being able to pull them out.

I took some pictures and it was then when it struck me, that five men dinning together is a sad sight indeed. All of those present should be at this hour with their wives and families. One of the guys has two kids – they get to see him on weekends. If everything goes well.

I was missing the woman I love that night. I wonder why they don’t? Or maybe they do? If it works out for us I don’t want to lead this kind of life. It probably looks exciting on the outside, but in all reality it is just tiring and lonely. I can get tired, I can work hard, but want to be close to the one I love every day – not just on some weekends. And if I ever will be a father I will do everything to give my kids the attention they deserve and spend quality time with them.

There is nothing that is worth being a “weekend husband” or “weekend father”. No business is worth it. And surely no job – work for someone else’s business – is worth it. I think it might be better to be a bit poorer but loved and happy than rich and lonely or in a cold, detached relationship. Isn’t loving and being loved all that ultimately matters?

Feeling of guilt is, as one wise man sad, inherently impotent. It usually deals with events that happened in the past, which means nothing can be done about them anymore. Specifically, it is not possible to address the same situation differently again or return to the point in time before it happened. Feeling of guilt is therefore merely a form of mental self whipping. It helps develop a sense of unworthiness – and stimulates fear of behaving in a negative way again.

Renouncing guilt doesn’t mean, of course, to be ruthless and not caring for what one has done. But one should distinguish rational, sane assessment of situation and one’s behavior form unnecessary tormenting oneself. If you did something wrong – admit it honestly to yourself, regret it – and try to understand why you did what you did. If anything can be done to correct the situation now – do it, but take into account the situation as it is now. In other words, don’t base your decisions on the event or events in the past, because you are likely to make a blunder again. Think ahead, not allow your mind to languish behind.

Sailing offers a perfect analogy here. If you discover you are off course, then you should not sit in the cockpit accusing yourself of stupidity and lack of seamanship. You should adjust your course. But first, you have to recalculate it from where you are now, not from where you have been when you veered off course. And while doing so you should reconsider the whole situation. Maybe the weather is changing and you should go to a different port than previously planned to avoid a storm?

Interestingly, the Catholic church is (in its popular, traditional form, especially strong in Poland and Ireland) pushing those two feelings as an important basis for its teachings. One should feel guilty and fearful. Fearful of god – and the church. Guilty by default since birth, unworthy by default as compared to the ideal god etc. This mix of sedative mental concepts acts like a social straitjacket. It affects even those who are not ardently religious, since it became ingrained in the culture. It is beneficial in a sense that it helps prevent people from harming themselves and others, but does it in a very crude way thus making mature spiritual growth much harder. And offers little help to people in tough situations, because the vicious cycle of fear and guilt leads them to bad decisions bringing more suffering – and therefore more guilt and more fear.

If you feel guilty, unworthy and afraid – don’t dwell on those feelings. Better try to understand where they came from. This will help much more than being attached to them – and devoured by them.

I always considered the sea or ocean to be the greatest analogy of the limitless space of mind we are all part of. If you look closely enough on the waves you can see each of them is made of countless smaller waves going in all directions. And, I realized, not all waves reach the shores to be observed by sentient (land) beings. Are those who never make it to a shore less happy? Do waves die? If you look at the water near the beach you can see it almost stays in the same place moving back and forth. Where do waves go if the water was still there?

Those were the thoughts, one of many, that passed – not unlike those waves – through my head as I was sitting – watching, contemplating… I bowed in most sincere gassho to the sea when it was time to leave…

And then it occurred to me that my thinking about my meditation reflects my overall state of mind, it’s not an objective measure or judgment, it’s just another drop in the torrent of thoughts.

My mind is not my thoughts. My zazen is not my assessment of my zazen.

I wandered slowly through this human river, camera in hand, music in my ears, looking for less crowded spots, less popular streets, forgotten corners. And when I found them I took time to contemplate them. It is interesting how many details emerge from a church’s lawn if you sit still long enough looking at it and absorbing its calmness. There are piegons looking for something in the grass, there is washing drying in the open windows, there is a banner flapping in the wind. If you relax and look close enough you can see the shadows creep with Earth’s movement – it’s slow, but perceptible.

I don’t know if it’s my practice influencing it but I could somehow experience the wholness of such images or places. I spent twenty minutes contemplating the church lawn seeing and experiencing at the same time the piegons wandering by, the clouds changing shape, the swallows circling beneath them, the wind on my face, the steps of the few churchgoers passing my by. All that is one in each and every moment that passes and I’m a part of it.

One day the master called him into his room and told him he decided the youngster needs to experience how the practice is going on elsewhere and that he will send him for a year to study with his old friend, Yutaka-Sou who was the master of a temple in the capital.

The next day the young monk left with his humble belongings in a bundle and traveled, mostly walking, for two weeks until he reached the capital. There he found the temple – large and modern, in the middle of a huge, carefully tended garden. Yutaka-Sou welcomed him and accepted him as his student for a year.

The young monk loved the new temple, with comfortable monks quarters, warm in winter and cold in summer, with zendo so huge and quiet he found it at first unsettling. Without the everyday worries his mind relaxed, flowed easier and his practice deepened.

But the time went on relentlessly and finally the year has passed and the day of departure came. Yutaka-Sou bade him farewell but told him that he likes his concentration on practice and will accept him as a permanent student if he would choose to come back.

The young monk again took his bundle and walked away. He travelled with sunken heart, wondering what he will tell his old master, Tetsu-Jin when he gets back to the old temple.

After traveling, mostly walking, for a week he stopped at a temple in a town, half-way from his destination.

There during breakfast the local head monk showed him a place next to another young monk and told him he was also a traveler who arrived during the night. Naturally, they talked and were both surprised for the other monk was a student of Yutaka-Sou, just returning from the little old temple having spent a year there with Tetsu-Jin.

- It must be a great relief that you can now return to your great temple – said the young monk with envy.

- Not really, I don’t like it there – said the other monk sadly – I can’t stand the coldness of those clean rooms and corridors, this old temple reminded me of impermanence and my practice deepened. You are lucky that you can stay there all the time.

- Not at all, I can’t stand the disarray and the hardship it brings, your modern temple was a relief for my mind and my practice deepened. I was sure you consider yourself lucky to be able to stay there all the time.

The other monk just shook his head. Then they sat in silence contemplating what has happened to them. Then they promised each other to stay in touch in the future, bowed and each went his way.

A week later the young monk finally climbed the side of the mountain to where the old temple was and went straight to his old master. Tetsu-Jin greeted him warmly and the young monk recounted everything that happened to him including the meeting with the other monk. Then he asked his master to forgive him for not telling him how he felt about the old temple.

- I knew, my young friend, I knew all the time – said Tetsu-Jin smiling.

- Then this is why you arranged for my trip to the capital? And also the same happened to that other monk? – asked the young monk.

- Yes. – replied the master.

- I know there is an important teaching in this, but I can’t quite grasp it, master – said the young monk – and I don’t know what I should do now.

- As you know already, fundamentally there is no difference between this or any other place. But the teaching you both received is that you can look for places and things that would inspire you on your path to enlightenment. And that different places inspire different people – and that’s why there are different places. But at the same time you should remember all of them are essentially the same as there is only space.

- The form is empty, emptiness is form. – said the young monk.

Tetsu-Jin just smiled and said – Now rest a few days, then go back to the capital and study with Yutaka-Sou. And visit me once a year just to make your old master happy.

The span of temperatures we are capable of living in seems indeed impressive until you realize that in reality our bodies are quite frail and function best in a rather narrow range of conditions. It’s our ability to create bubbles of hospitable – or at least endurable – conditions around them that allowed us to go almost everywhere on this planet.

The smallest bubble around us is clothing protecting us from cold or sunlight, we have large stationary bubbles called houses, we have bubbles on wheels in which we can move around and bubbles with wings if we need to get over a distance fast. Those bubbles are heated or cooled as needed, some are very modern and some have a long history. We even created bubbles that allow us to venture out of our planet’s atmosphere. We are so accustomed to them, going from one into another day after day that we hardly notice their role of separating us from hostile environment thus ensuring survival of most of us.

But as with any bubbles they sometimes do burst. Just like one of them did a few days ago in Chorzow Poland, where an exposition hall collapsed killing almost 70 people. Some of them died of extreme cold – during the night after the disaster temperature dropped to -4F/-20C.

It made me realize once more how dependent we are on those artificial conditions we created everywhere around us.

I don’t know what they were talking about. Maybe they were talking about starvation in Africa or human rights abuses in China or maybe about just a computer game or an action movie. But this short reminder about impermanence and karmic bounds didn’t upset me, it just made me enjoy my living seconds more that day.

A recent organizational reshuffle, which I co-engineered with my friend and partner from the business side of the organization resulted in a show of egos. Some were hurt, especially one – and a hurt ego is a well of negative emotions and wishes. This particular ego is vibrating with uncertainty, a bit detached from reality, it has a serious problem with accepting the situation as it is. Interestingly, since the stream of negativity it emanates is directed also (if not primarily) at me I could observe my own ego react with instinctive negativity to that person. It’s interesting, since when I consider it cooly I should rather feel compassion for that person who has to face a failure. Each of us fails at this or that, I myself failed more times I would like to admit so I should be able to feel for that person, sympathize with this sunken feeling of inadequacy and the arrogance generated to compensate it.

And yet… even though when thinking cooly I’m able to be compassionate most of the time my own ego can’t really stand it. That clouds my judgment, though luckily I’m aware of that.

I think both egos – and all others for that matter – are intertwined in this dance of emotions mainly – if not only – to underline their existence. Those shows of emotions, hurt pride, arrogance, windmill activities etc. all that feeds egos, adds substance to their otherwise elusive and illusive existence.

Of course, on the absolute level we’re all connected and feeling of separation is just a part of illusion we call reality. However, during the day I have to get things done within that illusion and sometimes I dwell on what one lama said about having to use painful yet skillful means without loosing compassion for the ones that might have to be hurt in order to prevent them from hurting others. And hurting others might necessarily mean killing or anything this serious. This might also be wasting others’ work, dividing people instead of uniting them, allowing others to fall into laziness or improper conduct.

I hope I’m justified in the reasons and ways in which I’m applying pressure when forced to do so. I hope my means are skillful enough. I hope I don’t hurt others more than I have to – and I hope it will ultimately help them grow, not sink them deeper into negativity.

But mostly I hope my own ego won’t feel pleasure when doing so. That I would be most ashamed of. I just hope I would be able to catch the moment l feel a single tingle of pleasure at someone’s misfortune, even if they fully deserve it, catch that moment – and stop.

And then I noticed a fly. It flew slowly across my table and sat on the edge of the empty ashtray. I must say I looked at it with a kind of sympathy. I didn’t see a pest, a nuisance – this small insect was to me a reminder of the warm days of the short Polish summer, already long gone. I watched it melancholically as it made its way towards the plate with a shortbread that was placed before me in the meantime. I took it not entirely willing to share my meal with it, but not wanting to hurt the poor thing who would probably die anyway later than day when the carriage would be put away in a depot and the cold would inevitably penetrate inside.

Isn’t it a good lesson in that the things don’t have any qualities in themselves other than those that our small minds attribute to them? – I thought while chewing the fillet who tasted like a piece of gum. In that warm summer a fly would be something not to notice or to wave away or even kill with disgust. But the last flies of fall – just like the first ones each spring – invoke different feelings, are seen with different eye. Are they any different than their numerous brothers we hardly see in July? Are their feet any cleaner? Did they change? Or did I, following to the perpetual wheel of changing seasons?

First came from visiting a web site that monitors the activity of peer-to-peer sharing networks, or p2ps. It’s called Slyck and it also shows how many users are there on a given day. The numbers from those stats intrigued me, because I was a bit surprised by how small they are. So I did some estimating.

The sum of users of all p2p networks Slyck tracks is about 8 million. Some of those use more than one network, so the actual number of unique persons using any of those is probably smaller. On the other hand some are not constant users – they show up in the statistics for a day or two, then show again in a month. So, let’s assume optimistically it’s 10 million. Now, there is the BitTorrent which is not tracked so closely due to it’s serverless nature – let’s put that optimistically at 10 million, too. Even if we add another 10 million for all other forms of file sharing (like traditional file swapping over IRC/FTP or secure, small network) and end up with 30 millions of P2P users it is still just 3% of the total estimated number of Internet users.

This means that file sharers are a tiny minority and therefore file sharing can be successfully stigmatized and kept at bay as a marginal, shameful activity. The indoctrination starts very early on now that downloading a song from a friend is “stealing” and somehow more abominable than, say, shoplifting. These numbers show that no matter what those of us who live in the Internet long enough (or too long) would like to believe it works. I believe it’s those numbers that make lawyers for media corporations think they can win. And I can say I’m not sure they won’t once I did this estimating.

The other realization or epiphany even came to me when I read about a recent publication in “Nature” discussing the influence of meteorites on… formation of clouds on Earth. It turns out micro-meteorites that arrive into Earth atmosphere quite frequently don’t totally annihilate on entry, but instead get converted into microscopic dust which affects cloud formation among other things, which can even influence climate.

And then it came to me that we, humans, intuitively associate natural environment with our environment. We somehow think that Earth’s atmosphere is a kind of border behind which there is nothing really, emptiness, vacuum filled with hostile celestial bodies more or less like our own Moon. This a totally wrong intuition, nature is continuous, environment is continuous. It’s like a deep ocean squid thinking the environment ends on the water’s surface, while it is just another part of same environment, same nature.

It’s so simple, so obvious, and yet as I realized it I smiled to myself at my minuscule discovery with deep satisfaction. My world somehow became bigger, limitless even. At least within my small mind.

Then I heard of meditation clocks like this one, which I think are a great idea but are not available here and I would like to see and hear it personally before buying. But, I thought, I could use my computer for this, if only I had an appropriate program and upon searching the web I found some. But they were either old or not free or not for my operating system, but I realized I already have the program I need – the mp3 player.

So, I downloaded a recording of a zendo bell, processed it some and created an mp3 with the sound of a bell being struck once and another with the sound of the bell being struck three times. I also generated three mp3 files with just silence – 5, 10 and 15 minutes of it. Now by arranging them in a playlist I can have as long a meditation as I wish. And it works very well for me.

I use my laptop to play it, as the desktop is too noisy. I think I could eliminate the noise altogether if I had a portable mp3 player connected to a pair of speakers. In fact even with headphones it could act effectively as a portable meditation clock.

I decided to share this, maybe you would find it useful too. You can download the set of mp3 files and a sample playlist by clicking here (it’s 7 megs approx). It’s also available in BitTorrent, click here for the torrent file.

My mind is like a piece of clay. It’s so flexible and adaptable. It changes so much with every year, month, week as I learn new things, picking them up like flowers while walking the path. It changes so much with everything I forget. There seems to be no limit to the shapes and sizes it can take.

And yet, it’s always afraid of the next step, next change of shape. Why?

I sit. I hear a sound. My mind immediately recognizes it, names it in a flash so fast I can’t grasp it yet alone prevent it – it’s a car door being slammed. Rapidly, sets of images appear, various situations in which I slammed a car door. Or seen a door slammed. Or saw it in a movie. Then the mind ticks and stops on a memory. Now the thoughts tree is almost developed, I recall a situation, a smell, a feeling. But, the breathing continues and I go back to it. The image slowly dissipates, the mind becomes clear again.

Then, another sound. Comes from above. I think a few years ago I wouldn’t recognize it, but now I know – it’s a sound a cat’s feet make when he jumps on the floor from a table or something. My mind, as previously, identifies it, names, defines the situation – it’s one of the cats of the neighbors that live above. They have three of them. I recall seeing the neighbor recently with a toddler when we met in the lift. I start to wonder… but then, the breathing continues. I return to it. The image dissipates just like the previous.

But wait, there is no sound, nothing happens but my mind starts to produce some images again. This time these are some dreamy, non-concrete plans. They are so vivid, strong, I sink in them, I’m now a thousand miles away from my cushion. And, again, the breath sweeps mind. Thought tree dissipates. Again and again. The emptiness turns into images then they return back to it.

This is sitting as I experience it now.

But in fact things are always exactly as they could. And everyone does exactly as they can, at that moment, in that time. Maybe things would be different some day, but they would never be better than they could. Or worse.

Isn’t it obvious? Didn’t you know it all the time? The world just is. The world just flows. And so do we.

School. That’s the place when we first encounter the system, in which an essay or an oral response to a teacher’s question or even overall behaviour can be simply graded on a relatively short scale of 2-5, 1-6 or F-A. After a few years of this the conditioning is so effective, so deep, we actually believe almost everything can be described by numbers. In some places it filters through even to popular culture as in the custom of judging other people’s looks on scale of 1 to 10 (like on this site). In most corporations we have now evaluation of employees with, yes, numerical scoring of achievements and performance. True digital age.

But, thought it is hard to believe, it wasn’t always this way. And it all started long before the invention of first microprocessor. The whole idea of grading students’ work with numbers, of ascribing numerical value to it, is fairly new. It all begun only in 18th century, I think. (I’ve spent last two hours digging around the Internet, but I haven’t found a source or data about the history of school grades. However, I remember reading somewhere in a book they were invented by a concrete fellow and applied first in one, known educational institution. Then, it spread.)

Now, a mental exercise. Try to imagine how the schooling and learning functioned without numerical grades. Try to imagine you never knew them. Try to imagine this world. Try. It’s hard. Very hard.

But, wasn’t it a more humane world in some way?

I won’t go as far as to say that I won or that meditation is a breeze now. Nothing of this kind. But I’m just a tad, a bit closer to just sitting. A bit closer to waking up.

This expression has a whole new meaning for me now that I’m experiencing my mind in meditation. I now understand why in old texts our mind is being compared to a wild horse. It is never resting, always shaken by incoming thoughts, twitched and pulled by attachment to them. In all this frantic activity we are getting lost. The present moment is getting lost, because the thoughts inevitably run away towards the future or dwell on the past.

It is so hard to just sit.

It sounds easy, but it’s not. It is really hard to concentrate just on this, rather short text, while forgetting for example all I know about historical context of these words or pitfalls of translations. It is not easy to resist the temptation of commenting the sutra in my mind instead of reading it. That is concentrating on what I think I think about it rather than on understanding what the author tries to say to me. Karol’s systematic approach and attitude helped a lot, since he constantly identified and rejected any ideas about the meaning we came up with that couldn’t be defended on the basis of what was written in the text.

It was a very important and interesting evening for me. Although I’m sure that the true meaning of this sutra can’t be understood thorough this kind of analysis, it certainly added a lot to my intuitive, deep trust towards this text which somehow I felt always since hearing it for the first time. And the method of “just reading” that I learned can be applied to other texts as well. And not only Buddhist ones.

This was also a very intense intellectual experience. I went in with a mild headache, but during the lecture it was gone as I had to concentrate so much that the body forgot of its little grumps.

Karol has a very sharp, precise mind and lots of training in this type of thing, as he is not only a Karma Kagyu traveling teacher with lots of practice but also holds a doctorate in philosophy. I’ve heard his lectures from tapes before, but the real experience is even better. A true intellectual feast.

He is also a very mean discussant, unsympathetic and with little patience for those with less intellectual ability who were not keeping the pace. If someone said something he thought was not correct he would blast at them as part of the reply, often with some personal remarks (like “So you think you are so educated, huh?” or “With this type of thinking you can just go and have a few beers”). But you can learn from that too, by observing why it hits you.

All in all – great stuff.

It’s hard to boil all this down to few sentences but overall it seems that the famous phrase which pulled me towards Buddhism – “The form is empty, emptiness is form” – is more in agreement with current scientific understanding than I expected.

I also have some thoughts going around my head as I read. For example one thing that – so far – has not appeared in the author’s cosmological dialog is recognition of the fact that our perception as parts of this universe of interdependencies is inherently limited. We are unable to scientifically measure or probably even understand in terms of human reasoning anything that might be outside of it. Any speculation reaching outside is bound to be an extrapolation of our own way of thinking – just as saying that life – and especially intelligent one – has necessarily to be based on carbon biology as we know it from Earth.

Another raw, yet unrefined reflection regards consequences of the experiments mentioned. If something clearly can move faster than light (even if it is just some form of information) and stability of phenomena on macroscopic level is rather an illusion than fact then there is hope that somehow the great distances of space can be traversed. It is of course far fetched, but maybe way forward for us is not only to try to blend general relativity and quantum mechanics into one single theory but rather in unifying the understanding of cognizant, conscious part of the reality and what we perceive as inanimate matter. Because it seems that fundamentally they are intrinsically connected.

There are several reasons why this question is so common. First, it’s because in our culture people associate Buddhism with Hinduism out of ignorance. These two religions come from the same cultural roots, yet are very different in their goals, practices and outlook on world. But I think people ask about eating meat so much because quite soon after starting to learn more about Buddhism they hear all the teachings about sentient beings (term which encompasses everything alive, not only humans), need for compassion towards them and the bad consequences of harming them. And then this strange suggestion appears – you can eat meat, but only if it comes from an animal that has been already killed. Don’t kill animals yourself and don’t eat meat from animals that have been killed specifically for the purpose of being eaten by you, personally. A good example is that you come to your friends out in the country and they will tell you “so, we will kill this sheep or pig especially for you” and you should then say “no, thanks”.

It seems a bit hypocritical on the surface. So, you don’t kill and don’t eat animals that are killed for you – but you can eat a pork cutlet or a beef steak. What about all those animals that are being reared especially for that purpose – some would cry out.

And the Buddhist teachers have different ways of responding to that, but it all boils down to this – once it is a cutlet you can’t help it, no good would come out of the fact that you won’t eat it.

There are some other points here as well:

1. The fact that the animal and the butcher meet is primarily due to impressions in their minds and possibly is related to their previous unpleasant encounters. Whatever the cause, this has nothing to do with you – with the exception described above when you take ownership of the act of animal being killed for you specifically – or do it yourself.There is no way of going on living this life in this world without harming other sentient beings, because the world is full of them. The nice story about it is of Kalu Rinpoche explaining to a group of veggies that if they drink tea they could have as well be drinking blood – because of all the beings, mostly small and primitive, that have been killed in the process of  cultivating and preparing tea.

   To cut is short – you should do what you can to avoid consciously harming other beings, but the fact is that you can’t avoid it totally because that’s just impossible.

   And plants are sentient being too, by the way. Only with very limited senses. But on the absolute level they are the same as we – limitless space of mind at play, developing various forms.

2. The question of eating meat or not doesn’t seem to be an important prerequisite to enlightenment – and that’s what Buddhism is all about. To wake up from a dream you can’t concentrate on one or other aspect of it, but on the process of waking up. Enlightenment, they say, is waking up from this dream we think is reality.Buddha Shakyamuni did eat meat (in fact he said to his monks more or less “eat all they will give you”), many other enlightened masters did eat meat.

   Logically, if abstaining from eating meat was an important condition for enlightenment then Buddha would have told something about it, wouldn’t he?

   Tibet is a good example, the Buddhist culture was very strong there and many people did reach enlightenment over the ages – yet natural conditions make meat almost the only nutritional option available there for humans. For all practical purposes the only thing that grows in most parts of this mountainous country is grass. And there are some animals who eat grass. So, either you eat grass or the animals – because there is nothing else to eat.

   Logically, if eating meat would be something that precludes enlightenment no one would achieve it in Tibet, but since many did then it might not be that important.

   This whole concept that something you eat can make you impure in the spiritual sense has been criticized even in our own cultural setting by the guy name Jesus some time ago. Yet, it still lingers on.

Having said all that: if you don’t eat because of compassion for animals – that’s good. Especially, the motivation that drives you is good – it’s in your mind and it’s all about mind anyway. But don’t blame or intimidate others – and above all don’t feel better than others because you do so, because that’s a completely different motivation and would yield a different result.

I think that “random” is just a mental box, where we put everything that we cannot explain because the chain of causes and effects is either too complex or to remote in terms of time. This box is sometimes also labeled “god’s will” or “gods’ will”. However, this label is less popular now in our secular, modern and presumably rational society. We prefer “science” as our universal source of answers and thus “random”. This has this advantage over “god’s will” that it can be measured and analyzed. Hence the probability theory and statistics which are great at describing and analyzing the events, but which don’t explain anything by themselves. So, for example we can say that a given percentage of smokers would die of cancer. Or that a given percentage of buildings in a given area collapses each year. This doesn’t explain at all why this particular given building collapsed or this particular person developed a tumor. So, we say it was… well… just random.

This is totally contrary to the whole basis of scientific discovery and in fact our approach to almost everything in life. In this we rely on cause and effect. In other words, we assume that if we discover what causes a given effect we can repeat that cause to get it or avoid creating causes of effects we don’t want. So for example we assume that if we plant corn seeds we will get corn, not, say, prunes. And we assume that if we give up smoking we increase our life expectancy. We also assume that if we mix some wheat, water and other stuff and bake it in the oven for an hour we will get bread – each and every time we do so. And there is no chance that, say, a personal computer would come out of the oven.

But if everything would be just random then we couldn’t do nothing about it. If, for example, buildings would collapse at random (as they seemed to before structural engineering was invented) we could do nothing to prevent it. And we couldn’t be sure at all what would come out of the oven. We could just hope it is not a swarm of killer bees this time. We would be effectively paralyzed because no action could be expected to yield a predictable result.

It is amazing how we can continue with our lives and everything our civilization created and still mumble about things being random. It is amazing how bright and educated people can ferociously renounce the idea of all things having causes and gleefully continue to arbitrarily put events they can’t explain in the “random” box.

Now, as I wrote above this box has sometimes a different label on it. The “god’s will” has the advantage that it explains why given event took place… sort of. And you can do something about it – you can pray to god (or gods) to change his mind. Or to turn his mind in favor of your wishes. Or against your foes.

But this concept leads to other problems. But that’s a different story.

It all begins with some scientists who have been experimenting with the so called random number generators. Such generator is simply a box which displays random numbers. Generating randomness is a broader theme, there are so-called pseudo-random number generators which are basically complex mathematical functions which yield results which seem random, but aren’t. However, in this case the source is electronic noise – presumably an effect of totally random interactions of particles at quantum (sub-atomic) level.

What is interesting is that it turned out that these boxes, which in theory should produce totally random numbers could be influenced by human consciousness. A team of scientists at Princeton University headed by Robert G. Jahn run a series of experiments back in the seventies, that suggested that conscious concentration could affect the output of a random number generator. This research, collectively known as PEAR was taken to a new level by the Global Consciousness Project which maintains a network of such boxes thought the world . These boxes, called EGGS transmit their output to a central server, where it is analyzed.

Researchers of the project claim that they can see disturbances (or deviation from randomness) in the output of their generators when large events occur like earthquakes, tsunamis or large terrorist attacks. The catch is that the deviations occur a few hours before the events take place. So, in case of the 9/11 attacks the disturbance happened four hours before the first plane hit the WTC – that is even before the terrorist entered their planes. Same happened before the recent tsunami in the Indian Ocean.

As one might expect such claims seem totally ridiculous in our presumably rational society. However, being a Buddhist I’m not surprised at all. Buddha taught that not only there is no division between me and other sentient beings, but also that on absolute level even the chair I’m sitting on is just another aspect of the same unlimited, clear space of mind.

Buddhists use the word “mind” in a very particular way. It is not used to refer to a single consciousness (presumably somehow connected to or anchored in a given brain) but to… well, everything. This unlimited space of mind is at the same time a container we are all in and the fabric everything is woven of. A fabric that weaves itself. An frequently used by Buddhist writers to explain the relationship of our consciousness with the rest of this space is that of currents in an ocean. A current in an ocean is hardly separate from it, yet it undeniably exists. Buddha said we are such currents that are so concentrated on themselves and all the other forms around them, that we believe that we and those other phenomena actually have an independent existence. Which is, of course, not true.

These concepts are rather hard to understand. They are in many cases hidden behind a mystical language which people with right intuition and trust (some say gained in previous lives) immediately accept but others have trouble with. In traditional Buddhists schools people were gradually introduced to those concepts, since most people are so attached to the idea that reality is, well, real that even a mere suggestion it is not causes them to stop listening – and thinking. Also, traditionally Buddhism practice leads to actually experiencing the clear unlimited space of mind as opposed to just intellectually understanding it. The method which leads to that experience is meditation and experience itself is widely known as enlightenment. There are many forms and flavors of meditation within the Buddhist world ranging from rich forms of Vajrayana (or Tibetan Buddhism) to simple yet hard path of direct insight meditation as practiced in Zen. But they all lead to same goal.

But intellectual understanding of these concepts is possible although not as powerful. Especially in our times it is easier than it was before. Buddha lived and taught 2500 years ago and so both the language he used and the way he taught were adapted to that period. However, in our century parts of the Buddhists outlook on reality don’t sound as revolutionary and odd. For example we already know that on a basic level we are indeed built from the same basic components of matter as everything else around us. We also know that on the subatomic level particles are composed mostly of… nothing, as elementary particles (quarks) are much, much smaller than distances between them.

So – the only thing that really surprised me about the this Global Consciousness Project is that people running it were able to actually observe what could be a side effect of the free play of mind as it forms and reforms bubbling with unimaginably huge number of streams running through it.

Of course, this research is still preliminary. The first event I thought of and checked were the terrorists attacks on 11^th of March, 2004 in Spain. These were as terrible and traumatic to the Spaniards as 9/11 was to Americans. However, there are no significant deviations visible on the graph from that day (nor the previous day). The experiments with people consciously concentrating on changing the output of a box seem more convincing because it is easier to set up such an experiment in a proper, scientific way.

Nevertheless, I think people should look more closely at the ancient wisdom that seems to describe our reality so well.