Bardo is the word

Bardo is the word for today. I've always been more of a Theravada than a Tibetan Buddhist. I mean, with Theravada Buddhism there is a relatively limited body of texts you can acquainy yourself with that at least purport to be the words of the Buddha. In Mahayana, there are just too many texts going off in too many directions for my limited brain to get a handle on, and Tibetan Buddhism is, as a friend of mine put it, way too busy. For one thing, more gods than you can shake a stick at, if that's your idea of a good time. Don't get me wrong. I love the Dalai Lama. And the notion of a bardo state--the state between dying and entering the next life that is discussed in the Tibetan Book of the Dead. And I have been thinking about it as of late, not knowing what to make of it or drawing any profound concluisons, just recognizing that is where I was, when today I had an experience that drove this point home in a profound fashion

I ran into an ex-colleague today while hanging around my ex-university town waiting to finish up some paperwork necessary for the Peace Corps, trying to keep a very low profile. And the conversation we had was just bizaare. I mean, we talked like everything was normal except it wasn't. It reminded me of the conversation you someimes have with someone who has cancer. It was just like the cancer conversation in which you talk about everything else but the cancer, just so my current position or lack thereof was never mentioned. Instead, we talked like nothing had happened, like it was every other conversation for the past fifteen years and I would see him on campus tomorrow and maybe go hiking this weeking. Except I wouldn't do either. Hell, if all goes well I may leave in a few days so will probably never see him again. So it was just strange having a conversation like everything was the same when everything was so different. My life here is dead. But of course, leaving here in a day or a week is not going to change that. The old, "wherever you go..." line. It is just so much more obvious being here that my past life is dead and that at the moment there is nothing to take its place. And that, my friends, is bardo.

Marathon as Symbol

I ran a half marathon race yesterday as part of my training for a full one. For some reason I can't quite put my finger on, I've decided it's important that I run a marathon as part of this process. I've run marathons before, but was never really big on them and haven't done one for a while. I'd much rather train to run good ten ks and half marathons. They don't rip up the body like training for and running a marathon. I mean, there's a reason the Greeks had no event that remotely resembled this tortorous 26.2 mile contest of endurance. They were much too sane for such activity. They did have long distance runners. But they were used to transmit messages, although the story you hear about the guy who ran to Athens to convey message of the victory at the Battle of Marathon is a complete fabrication.

In any case, I have run them every now and then and admit to feel a certain satisfaction afterwards which completing nothing else can really approximate. But what really set me off was Haruki Murakami's book What I Talk About When I Talk About Running, which I happened across at a bookstore in the Bangkok airport this summer. Every once in a while I will stubmle across a book completely unplanned that I can immediately sense will have some significance and I had that feeling very strongly with this book. Despite being a philosopher (well, despite having been a philosopher) I place a good amount of credence in some things that go beyond reason and cannot be ultimately proven. More on this later (or maybe in another entry).

It is interesting to speculate what about this book set me off. For one, I guess, the thing I regretted about being on this two month swing through Asia--which was a great time--was that I was just starting to get back in shape when I left for this trip--after two years in China where it was incredibly difficult to train. And the book, which relates Murakami's more than twenty year and still going love affair with running, reminded me of what an important value that is in my life. I've run since high school, though at some points in my life more than others. And I think what this book was telling me was to start getting serious about it again.

So I guess it is some sort of symbol, though generally I'm not a big fan of symbolic gestures. But here it seems a way to prove to myself that I can carry something difficult through to completion, and if I can finish off a marathon, well, there may be hope in other areas where I have to work through difficulties. At least that's what it feels like now.

So after the semester ended I took this two month trip to Japan, Thailand and ultimately back to China. One of the things I regretted was I was just starting to get back into shape when I took off on this trip.



So while I am generally not much drawn by the need for openly overt gestures like running a martahon as a symbol for something, for some reason it is important for me to run a marathon before leaving on the Peace Corps assignment. This was something I envisioned when I first saw the Peace Corps posting, which in a way set me off on my resignation. Again, it had to do with an intution.



Now, I know you can't go hog wild relying on these things. And they need to be checked and rechecked to see if they make sense. But at the end of the day, I think we need to rely on these.







gave me the bug again. I've been running since high school

Yesterday

Plans keep getting interrupted by extenral events and need to be altered. First it was the notice from the Peace Corps which essentially required me to put aside the trip the the Buddhist retreat center. And then yesterday I got the first piece of positive feedback on the book I've written about the two years with the Peace Corps in China. As a result, though, I will probably have to put aside any travel plans I had for the time before the Peace Corps starts in early November in order to complete a polished version of the manuscript. I have a feeling this is going to be a theme. Plans made being interrupted by events as they happen. Although I think it is good to have a plan, I think it is important not to proceed with eyes set too rigidly on any one particualar course of action lest you fail to take account of events as they are unfolding. I've always been one to believe that the universe may be trying to tell you something so you need to keep your ears open.

Your separation from Weber State University is complete

That was the subject heading in the e mail I received today from my university. I mean, it's not like I expected a big thank you for your years of service. But that seemed a little harsh. The content of the letter was not much better:

Dear Vernezze, Peter J,
Please be advised that your access to all Weber State University information and resources terminated as of 26-AUG-2009 with the exceptions of GroupWise email and eWeber access. GroupWise and eWeber access will be available for 30 days from the above mentioned date.

I mean, seriously, a thank you would have been nice.

But as if to balance that piece of unpleasantness today as well I received a notice that I have been accepted into the Peace Corps Indonesia program. This is one of what is known as Peace Corps Response, short term programs for returned volunteers. This one involves training teachers in Indonesia. Only three volunteers are going. It starts in early November and ends in June. So barring something unforessen, that is the plan. I was supposed to hear about this a few weeks ago but it seems they are having some difficulties with final arrangements with the Indonesian goverment, and they still are not exactly certain of when we are going to depart. But I accepted the position. The only drawback is that I was scheduled to go to the Shambhala Mountain Center for about three weeks as a volunteer for the "take down" of their temporary summer structures , and I was told with the materials arriving early next week that will include various forms and clearances and medical appointments that it is not a good idea for me to be out of contact for that long a time. So that will unfortunately have to be put to the side.

If I hadn't gotten the Peace Corps I was going to travel to India November-January and then study in China for a semster. But this to me is a no brainer, because if there is one rule that I do invoke these days it is the "where can I be of the most use" rule. And that makes the choice of the Peace Corps position over the other alternative fairly straight forward and easy.

But of course the long term issue is not resolved, that is, what do I do when this is over for a second act. I have tentatively told myself I will go to graduate school for an MSW the fall when I return, but that is just so I can feel like I have some structure. It is not something I am particularly commited to, at least right now. I will continue to explore alternatives and, like I have said elsewhere, I think it's a good idea not to have a definite plan about the future once you have left a career you have invested a substantial amount of time in just like it's not a good idea to jump into a serious relationship right after you've just gotten out of one. The soul needs time to settle, and I hope to follow the Taoist maxim, "muddy water after it's settled becomes clear."

Leaving Academia

At a particularly low point in a particularly low day--low, I think, because I received a couple of e mails from the university regarding my "separation" from the university, supplying me with a list of things I needed to take care of, including but not limited to giving back my keys and sending in my parking pass--I was uplifted by a quote from a posting on the website Leaving Academia (www.leavingacademia.com) . It's from a the movie directer (not the dead actor) Steve McQueen. . Here it is

"At the end of the day, you know, we die. It’s not about money or how much stuff you can take with you–it’s all about what you do. As long as I can pay my mortgage, I’m happy–it’s as simple as that. Therefore we can take risks, because what else is there? There’s nothing else to do, literally. As long as you can have shelter and you can eat and you’ve some clothes on your back, what else is there to do but to take risks?"

Since I don't even have a mortgage, I guess I have even less to worry about. Of course, to paraphrase Henry Kissenger, there are risks and there are risks. I take it this isn't a license to have sex without a condom or play a round of Russian Roulette. But I think I have a sense to what sort of actions this prescription applies to and at least for tonight I'm willing to classify my choice along with these.

And I can't close tonight without commenting on the irony of the fact that when I was going into philosophy everyone thought I was crazy for going into it and now that I'm leaving people think I'm crazy for getting out. No pleasing some folks.

Shopcraft as Soulcraft

So a friend of mine recommended a book that I have been working my way through and recommend. It's called "Shopcraft as Soulcraft" by Matthew Crawford. Crawford received a Ph.D. in Politics from the University of Chicago, got a job at a Washington think tank and quit after one year to open a motorcycle shop, which he has been happily doing ever since. The book is an obvious homage to Pirsig's "Zen and the Art of Motorcylce Maintenance," and Crawford does not hide that fact. But it's much more about the satisfaction of working with your hands. And it's also about how the way that sort of labor is viewed in America has changed over time and about how it is more or less looked down upon. And neglected, as Crawford sites the number of high schools that have cut shop. One of my favorite quotes from the book is "The trades are a natural home for anyone who would live by his own powers, free not only of deadenbing absraction but also of the insidiuos hopes and rising insecuriteis that seem to be endemic in our current economic life. Freedom from hope and fear is the stoic ideal." Crawford has the good fortune to have been working on cycle his entire life and did not just pick it up later in life. Unfortunately, I have no talent in this area or any of the manual arts, so that is not an option. His advice for college students to pick up a trade sounds like good advice

It should be remembered that the academic philosopher is a fairly recent invention, starting, I think, with Kant. In fact my two favorite philosophers in history were insistent on having trades by which they supported themesleves, Spinoza with grinding lenses and Rousseau with copying music. Of course, with Rousseau it's a little more complicted but he at least speaks of how important it was to have a profession by which to support himself and remain independent, though he was not above taking free rent (though he did turn down a stipend from a king). So I've always found that ideal very appealing. .

The first day of the rest of,,,,oh forget it

Well, today was the first day of classes at my university and hence my first official day as a former academic (although technically this won't start until I sign the contract for the terminal sabbatical which I'd hoped to do today given the ways lawyers work of course is taking longer than you'd think).

I have been thinking today (not only today but especially today) about a friend of mine from many years ago who made a life changing choice that demonstrated to me what true courage is. This was someone who changed gender, and when I think of personal bravery I think of him (now her). Despite incredible societal disapproval and social pressure, she was faithful to her vision of what path she should follow. My change, no matter how drastic, will never compare to what she did. When I conceive of the difficulties of my own situation, and especially the inner chaos that often arises, I think of her and I know she went through a lot of the same self questioning and emerged on the other end of it. It is a great source of reassurance and comfort to be personally acquainted with someone who struggled with the same issues about whether to follow a comfortable, easy route that others expected or to strike out on a new path that would invovle risks and that others would think incredibly foolish. Again, what she did is on such a vastly higher scale than what I am undertaking. It is like someone who is training for a first marathon being inspired by an Olympic athelte, and I will stick with that comparison because I think of what she did in the personal realm was truly Olympian. My own burden really does become lightened when I contemplate her journey. I also come to believe, albeit slightly, that it is possible to come out of the other end of this in a better position than you went in, that if you are faithful to your vision of what you should be, a positive outcome is possible, even if it may not look as such to the rest of the world.