Category: Metaphysics

Meditations for a Sunday Afternoon

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The human and divine. Once in a while, the idea of my human and divine nature rears its head. I know for sure that I am a human being, with all the attributes it implies. I had human parents who passed on their genetic attributes to me. Still, I have accepted that my essence is part and parcel of a fundamental energy that is, for the lack of a better description, divine. However, the schooling I received as a catholic youth regarding the attributes of such a divine essence, and later learning about Zen Buddhism, interfere with my adult understanding. Catholic training attributed a type of perfect, sinless nature to my divine self, a nature granted only through the grace of salvation. From my Buddhist training, this pure, essential nature was innate in me from birth. Unfortunately, many of my thoughts and actions appear to contradict that pure, sinless nature. The lack of trust in what I am creates this conflict. Am I both human and divine? Why do I have such a hard time reconciling these two thoughts?

The meaningless purpose of life. Daily evidence has convinced me I am both meaningful and meaningless. I feel special in God’s eye, but I also equate myself to a grain of sand in a universe of sand. My ego biases my thoughts toward the special, and I am surprised when the meaningless perspective sneaks up. This morning I wrote a blog post titled, “I Am Here” and felt inspired and special. Later, as I drove to the store listening to the KPBS radio channel, I heard an interview with Sonya Renee Taylor, author and poet, currently living in New Zealand. The interview basically hit me like a brick to the head. Ms Taylor summarized all the ideas I had written about in the blog but did so in a more polished, deliberate, attention-grabbing, and better way. Her unique wisdom struck me like a thunderbolt. My self-centered importance gave way, and I felt like a grain of sand-tiny and unimportant.

The limits of being human. The slight pressure behind my left eyeball, while not a full-blown headache, is uncomfortable. I experience it when my blood pressure is high; when I am drowning in financial difficulties; and when I ponder whether I should do something more meaningful than sitting and watching the world go by. It reflects anxiety about being productive; about being active and not passive; about giving back to society versus taking up space in a world already full of people. This drama plays out mainly during moments of anxiety and uncertainty. Because I feel the pressure mainly on the left side of my head, I assume it involves parts of my brain involved in language and conceptual thinking. It is my monkey mind messing with me.

The lack of trust. One constant in moments of monkey mind madness, when I feel impatient with others, life, and God, is my desire for immediate gratification. That desire overcomes my thoughtful self. I cannot wait for either human or divine responses. And those unanswered questions make me lose trust. Trust in myself and trust in something greater than me. At that point, the pressure behind my left eyeball increases and I feel a tension develop. Sometimes I feel the discomfort in the pit of my stomach, just below the rib cage. Sometimes it’s just a feeling of impatience. When the unresolved issue lingers, there is a restless anxiety that settles over me. It’s interesting, though not unexpected, that mental concerns should so affect my physical body. It’s only recently that I’ve understood their identities are the same.

The desire to do. One recurring thought I have is the desire to do constructive, meaningful things. I recall reading that any act done with full attentiveness and in a loving way is the most meaningful act possible. I feel the urge to help others. But also feel constrained by circumstances, the pandemic, those around me, and not wanting to endanger people who still have not received the vaccine.

En Nepantla*

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Kaveri Raina | Pagalpan Aur Tehrav, Before | 2018
 Sometimes the difficult part of living
 Is in the moments between events,
 In the in-betweenness of life.
 Whether life flows, 
 Successfully or not,
 Depends on such sacred poetic moments.
  
 These are moments of waiting,
 Of pausing,
 Of reflection,
 Of starting over.
 It is here that the architects
 Of self-centered thinking live.
  
 Boredom, agitation, 
 Expectations, mind wandering, 
 Doubts, questioning, and anxiety.
 It is here that our untutored mind
 Gives free rein to the fantasies 
 Hindering the free flow of life.
  
 It is here, en nepantla, however, 
 That the opportunity for growth
 Is optimal.
 For it is here,
 In these sacred poetic moments,
 That we get a chance for freedom.

* En nepantla is a Nahuatl word for a state of in-betweeness. Nahuatl refers to a group of peoples native to southern Mexico and Central America.

Science and Faith: From Skepticism to Wonder

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Image from Clayton, J.N. (2017). Science and Theology, May 19, By DGE?

For many of us, faith implies the belief in a Deity and powers that emanate from such a being. We conceive of such beliefs as beyond the reach of the intellect, and see science and faith, like oil and water, as not mixing very well. This creates a mindset in which we judge scientists as incapable or unwilling to express faith, and those who express faith as unable to understand the scientific viewpoint. Valid or not, many reasons have led to this unusual, unhelpful, and twisted logic. In an attempt to bring these two polar opposite views into synchrony, I describe a perspective on the path from skepticism to wonder and back that may provide a small beginning.

What is “truth?” How we arrive at that answer creates a multitude of feelings, thoughts, and approaches. Most of us, at the dawn of the 21st century, reflect the thinking which conceives of truth based on faith in opposition to that based on science. Science is a unique method requiring proof to an almost legalistic level, i.e., overwhelming circumstantial evidence that is beyond a reasonable doubt. We arrive at this type of truth by gathering data from what we experience. We then generate a best-guess explaining the accumulated evidence, test this hypothesis, and recalibrate the explanation based on the feedback. This is a painstaking, time-consuming, third-person, communal perspective. History has validated the worthiness of this approach, such as when evaluating pre-scientific explanations of diseases. For millennia, we considered disorders the work of unseen forces, evil spirits, or the devil. Applying the scientific method, scientists discovered that biological phenomena, including bacteria and viruses, and psychological events such as stress, were better explanations for these dynamics.

In contrast to science, faith is the willingness to accept things unexperienced. It rests on an individualized, first-person feeling based on trust and conviction, and less on evidence or proof. It is an extrasensory set of feelings and ideas in an individual, regardless of how others may react. I cannot, for example, convince others with data or reasoning that I experience God every day because, right or wrong, this is a private, individualized, and exclusive experience. It becomes more communal only when others experience similar things.

The paradox inherent in this science-faith discussion arises from theology and philosophy, namely the idea of the transcendence and immanence of God. This dichotomy reflects a pair of truths which appear to contradict each other. Imagine a continuum. At one end is the notion that God is separable from His creation. Or to put a theological spin on it, “God is transcendent and not imminent.” He created things, but those things do not define Him. He is beyond them. However, to believe in God’s transcendence and to neglect His immanence is to fall into the belief of a Supreme being and creator who does not intervene in the universe. At the other end of this continuum is the notion that nature expresses the Divine. God is nature. Or, to put it another way, “He is imminent (in nature).” But to believe in His immanence and to neglect His transcendence is to fall into the belief that reality is identical to divinity. Interestingly, modern Christian theology falls somewhere along this continuum. It argues that God is both transcendent and imminent, although imminent in only a few circumstances, such as the incarnation of Christ, the Bible, expressed love and caring. But He is not imminent in nature, pain, or inappropriate behavior.

Scholars have argued that the influence of Greek philosophy had a vast impact on early Christian theology and on the transcendence-imminence of God. It saw the world of physical objects as an inferior reality. Because of this influence, any human experience of God, which is physical and inferior to the spirit, would only be a poor mirage of the true perfection of the godhead (Crotty, 1982). The result of such thinking was an emphasis on the transcendent over the immanent God. Several scholars tried to reject these Greek ideas. Aristotle, and later Dietrich Bonhoeffer, believed that God is “out there” with ordinary life. Bonhoeffer’s “God is everywhere” concept, however, morphed into “God is not here” for everything with God meant nothing is God. Logical reasoning, such as this, unfortunately, never seems to get anywhere.

During the Middle Ages, particularly the 12th and 13th century, the precursor of the scientific method was Scholasticism. Its distinguishing characteristics were inclusion of the teachings of Christian faith in pursuing truth. The goal of this approach was more about uncovering the wonder in nature by refining the questions posed, rather than expecting a conclusive answer. The result was an understanding that forces existed beyond the intellect but which harnessed a unique understanding. Such insightful thinking morphed into one that focused more on the answers than on the wonderment surrounding the answers. This gave birth to scientism and the prevalent method of science used today. While we have learned much from this modern approach, we have lost that most valuable part of life—an appreciation of the mystery and wonder that surrounds our “answers.”

Reconnecting wonder to God’s creation paradoxically resolves the science-faith conundrum. Science becomes the study of creation, wonder and all, and faith reflects communion with this wonder. This is the uneasy answer most organized religion and organized science ought to seek. Not a return to classic Scholasticism, but a new scholasticism suited to modern sensibilities and intellectual needs. It is an uneasy answer because history shows that we have and will continue to find scientific explanations for what was once the domain of the Divine. Yet, scientists grow skeptical that the scientific method can provide answers to all problems. And those mysteries that remain, e.g., death, love, and guilt, appear to be the most fundamental ones. Hence, we cannot continue to ignore the wonder of creation, or we will not gain true insight.

I have argued in a previous blog that science and faith-based knowledge are two distinct strategies to know the world. Our brains synchronize these two approaches. Rather than using them as opposing strategies, they are complementary, facilitating and enriching each another. True faith results from questioning. Faith stripped of skepticism is brittle and breaks easily. We must confront and wrestle with paradoxes—not just believe them unquestionably. It is the wrestling that produces insight, grace, and enlightenment. Along with wonder, we need to regain the willingness to face these contradictions and the false certainty they create.

Touching Stillness and Responding Creatively

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THE-GOOD-MONKEY-MIND-chapter-1Download

I am attaching Chapter 1 of my new book, The Good Monkey Mind, so that you can respond creatively and provide whatever feedback you deem appropriate.

I truly appreciate it.

In a previous commentary, I encouraged everyone to practice stillness during this new year and assured you that touching such stillness, even for the briefest moment, would help you gain a feeling of contentment. It would also likely lead you to want to continue practicing. Today, I want to describe how touching stillness affected me in a positive and creative way.

Stillness is the attitude I adopted that “life is perfect as it is” or more prosaically that “life is what it is.” Not perfect in an ideal or Platonic sense, but as the only outcome out of a set of possibilities given the history and circumstances of each moment. I accept this reality in a willing, loving manner, and doing so from moment to moment gives way to a stillness of mind. Accepting the reality of the moment does not mean I am resigned to what life brings. The mystery is that within this acceptance lies the enormous creativity of the universe to engage and provide solutions that lead to wise change.

Like any skill, practicing mind stillness requires effort. This means keeping the “perfection of life” top of mind, especially when negative things occur. As I continued the effort, it became less conscious and more automatic – until the openness and acceptance remained without conceptual mentation. One of the first things I noticed as my practice grew was how less emotionally reactive I became to the surrounding turmoil. My emotions did not disappear or become muted—I actually felt more. The difference consisted in my response to those feelings. I did not immediately become anxious, fearful, or lash out in anger. I had the space and time to consider the unfairness or sadness of the circumstances, to feel them, but then consider how I could do something about it.

More than anything, the practice of stillness produced a joy that was totally unexpected. This joy is a fullness, closer to contentment than to happiness, even as the world seems to be more and more chaotic. Again, it isn’t a defeatist or resigned attitude but a perspective that says, “ok, this is how it is, now, what can I do about it?” This viewpoint leads me to not only follow the masking and distancing recommendations but also to volunteer to take part in the Moderna vaccine trials or be a volunteer to vaccinate people. The outcome of the vaccine trials has proven it was the correct decision. Hence, the more I practice stillness, the stronger my confidence grows about the intuitions that arise, and the more faith I place on those intuitions. It is a positive feedforward, self-fulfilling, and satisfying process.

I have asked myself about this “faith,” which has echoes of an early religious upbringing. It is a kind of faith my skepticism as a neuroscientist had displaced. My increased openness to it is something that developed as I continued my stillness practice. I struggle with it, in the sense that I  resist it, something I relate in my autobiography, Piercing the Cloud. In the end, however, I see using the scientific method and intuition as complementary strategies to know and engage the world. Both are powerful yet distinct ways to approach and know truth. At our best, our brain-mind accommodates and uses both strategies to respond to life creatively.

Enlightenment: The Spiritual Liminal State

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“… It is when you have left the tried and true, but have not yet been able to replace it with anything else.  It is when you are between your old comfort zone and any possible new answer. If you are not trained in how to hold anxiety, how to live with ambiguity, how to entrust and wait, you will run…anything to flee this terrible cloud of unknowing.”

                                                                                                            Richard Rohr

In the above quote, Richard Rohr, American author, spiritual writer, and Franciscan friar, defines the psychological liminal state, a transitional state that can be potentially terrifying. Such a state has many similarities to the state of enlightenment. Enlightenment is defined in infinite ways. In some spiritual circles, enlightenment is the state of attaining spiritual knowledge or insight, in particular awareness of your true nature as part of the unity of life.

Joko Beck, an American Zen teacher, captured the unique nature of the enlightenment experience by describing it as walking on a knife’s edge. It’s a terrifying image, and as a spiritual liminal condition, one of potentiality, not the old nor yet the new, but a “cloud of unknowing.” A liminal condition, whether psychological or spiritual, is temporary and can terrify or be satisfying, depending on whether you learn to live with it. This recalls a quote from Dogen, founder of the Soto school of Zen in Japan: “Before one studies Zen, mountains are mountains and waters are waters; after a first glimpse into the truth of Zen, mountains are no longer mountains and waters are no longer waters; after enlightenment, mountains are once again mountains and waters once again waters.”

The implication is that life is lived normally following an encounter with this spiritual liminal state-but with a difference. The answer is to learn to live with the cloud of unknowing, to love and trust it. When you wake up to such a reality, it becomes the only way to live a truly normal, satisfying and full life. Craig Hamilton, a contemporary American spiritual teacher, captures the difference in the before and after in this realization. 

Hamilton has written that enlightenment is not a state of consciousness. It is not a thought. It is the intuitive realization of your true nature, that who you are is not this limited, separate self; or any of the thoughts and feelings that you previously identified as yourself. Awakening occurs as you realize that who you are at the deepest level is something much bigger and more profound than who you thought you were. It is the recognition of a kind of super consciousness, intelligence, love, being, and presence that is the foundation of reality itself.

This presence is already free, whole, and perfect. Who you are is this sacred dimension of reality that is beyond intellectual comprehension, yet somehow, you “know” it. It’s missing nothing, lacking nothing, and overflows with love, wisdom, power, and clarity. Enlightenment is not just the realization that God exists. It’s the realization that That is what you are. The thing you were always seeking and putting outside yourself is actually your true nature. This intuitive knowledge shatters every conscious and unconscious belief you’ve had in your own limitation. It destroys every sense of lack, of not being enough, of feeling there is somewhere else you need to get to. You realize that the whole thing is already here. This life is the spiritual liminal state of enlightenment that can terrify and be glorious at the same time. Enlightenment is the realization that I am That. Awakening to the essence that you and everything else is sacred is beyond measure and glorious beyond comprehension.

It can bring you to your knees.

May you experience enlightenment in 2021.

The Thanksgiving Gift

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Live in the here and now.
For in that space God lives,
And life is real and flows as it is meant to do.
No problems, no questions, no answers.
Just life being a dancer
Beautifully moving and interbeing.
Creative and all-seeing,
In-and-of-itself.

It was Saturday, November 28, 2020 and “another beautiful day in paradise,” as my wife and I often describe San Diego weather. Only a couple of days before, we had celebrated Thanksgiving Day, while still isolating because of the COVID-19 pandemic. I had cooked the usual brined turkey, and we had feasted on the leftovers for two days. Now I wanted to take a long walk to help me lose the pounds I had gained during the celebration. As I stepped out the door of our condo at 8 am, the icy wind hit me and I knew I needed a sweater. I drove the few miles to Torrey Pines beach to walk up the “mountain,” to the preserve trails, and there commune with nature.

Halfway up the hill to the top of the Torrey Pines preserve, the idea struck me that I could do a longer trek. UCSD, the university campus where I had worked for 28 years until my retirement in 2018, was a six-mile walk. As I crested the hill of the preserve, I felt I was up to the long walk. The air was crisp, but the walk had warmed my body and so I took the sweater off, knowing it would only get warmer. A bright sun illuminated the morning. Clear blue skies framed the Pacific Ocean to my right, shimmering a dark blue-green shade. I had anticipated that the noise of those walking the trail and of the cars off in the distance would fade as I reached the plateau of the preserve. I wanted to listen to the sound of silence. But it was not to be. Too many cars and a few more folks than I had expected were walking the trails this morning. Silence didn’t have a chance. The siren song of the university called me. I continued past the Torrey Pines Golf Course, Scripps Clinic, the Hilton hotel, and a variety of other places before reaching the campus.

I had not visited the university in over a year. From the road, I had seen new structures slowly but inexorably grow in the space that had been a parking lot during my time there. A group of new buildings now overlooked the familiar grounds. As I approached the campus, my body signaled it needed a brief rest. I found a bench on Torrey Pines Road that served as a bus stop and collapsed into the hard metal seat. The walk had been refreshing as the light and translucent leaves and grass along the way called my attention to the beauty of nature. I felt tired but grateful and enjoying the moment.

As I looked down from the bench, I spied two pennies on the ground. I picked them up and felt there had to be one additional penny somewhere to complete the trilogy. I scanned the ground but could not see any, so after a period of rest, I continued my walk into campus. On my return, 15 minutes later, I stopped by the same bench and the same strong feeling of a third penny flooded my brain. This time I looked down and saw it, near where I had found the other two. Strange, I thought, that I hadn’t seen it previously. I have come across money before on the street, from coins to dollar bills, and don’t remember ever being concerned about the year it was made. This time, the thought occurred naturally, spontaneously, and insistently. I looked and noticed the years: 1995, 2009, and 2012. The dates vaguely reminded me of something.

As I continued my return home, it surprised me to realize that in 1995 I had received tenure from the university; In 2009, I had edited my first and only academic book on Mirror Neurons; and in 2012, I received promotion to Full Professor. If anyone had asked me what the three most significant experiences in my career at UCSD were, I would have said it was those three things. The more I considered it, I realized that other events, such as publication of one of my most widely read papers in 2005, would only be fourth on the list. How intriguing, I thought? Am I creating a story around these dates or is there a deeper significance in my finding these coins with these specific dates?

I have a creative mind and may have “conjured” significant events for whatever years might have appeared. Yet, the moment felt special. The feeling was that in some unexpected and special way, I was communing with something greater than myself. The message these three pennies seemed to be delivering was, “I know you well.” A wave of gratefulness overwhelmed and pervaded my senses. The walk home was quiet and humbling the more I contemplated what had transpired.

The Dawning of Intimacy: Pathway to A Unity Experience

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Whether we call it nondual awareness, unity, oceanic feeling, or universal love, we have inadvertently placed such an experience out of reach and available only to mystics, saints, and special others. However, as I have written previously, we are born with this unique sense of being only to apparently forget it as our ego and individuality develop. The dark curtain covering our oceanic feeling, or okeoagnosia (from the Gr. okeanos or ocean and agnosia), is, however, overcome through meditation, prayer, inquiry, falling in love, paying attention, or with drugs. It is remarkably recoverable.

The argument I want to make today is that the news is even better than that. If we think of recovery from okeagnosia as a path, then such a path starts from the awareness that we already have a unity experience. We have it moment-by-moment since it is intrinsic to our human nature. What is needed is to “increase” that sense of being. One can do this by focusing on particular aspects of it, such as enhancing our emotional presence (heart) and unifying it with our intellectual presence (mind) (An Enhanced Sensory Experience). In the end, we gauge progress by the regained sense of joy, love, wonder and curiosity.

The following describes a path of recognition, realization, and appreciation that may be cultivated:

  • Attend to how you see, hear, feel, and think of the external world. Whether you see it as full of independent things with which you interact in a distant, objective, cold, or analytic way or as close, intimate, and loving entities.
  • Realize that your experience of the world (objects, feelings) is the result of your brain’s activity. You are a co-creator of that world and partly responsible for what you experience.
  • Realize that you see the world as individual parts but also holistically.
  • Recognize your care for this external, holistic world because what happens out there affects you inside in small and big ways, especially what other people do. Begin to see this common ground.
  • Recognize that caring can extend not only to others like yourself, but to animals, plants and everything in between. See the common ground in all.
  • Realize that the feelings of caring for all of life takes on a sense of intimacy and closeness. The coldness gives way to love and compassion.
  • Recognize that unity reflects an intrinsic sense you have but forgotten.
  • Recognize that this experience of unity is possible in others as in yourself (Trusting Stillness).
  • Recognize that it reflects a non-separation, compassion, and love knowingness (Unencumbered Original Mind).
  • Realize that you experience unity when you participate in some activity in which you lose track of things, of time, of yourself, etc.
  • Appreciate that you experience unity when in love or during focused attention where your ego disappears in the presence of someone special (lover, wife, husband, children) or something that interests you to the exclusion of everything else.
  • Appreciate that as you move down this path of recognition and realization, life becomes more joyous, your curiosity increases, as does love and compassion toward others.
  • Appreciate that as you move down this path, you begin to feel a greater connection, less distance and more intimacy between you and the world.
  • Appreciate that outside and inside are the same. What appears to be outside is also inside. Figure and ground are just different aspects of the same thing. They define each other but are the same. No greater intimacy than this.

In the rest of the blog, I only want to address the first and most important assumption: That we already have a unity experience. Many will undoubtedly balk and argue that it is not so and are not convinced. This is because we all have different notions of what unity means. We may not agree but let’s start by trying to define a common starting point. At the most basic level, a unity experience means that our perception of the world isn’t a jumble mess of sights, sounds, and emotions, scrambled in such a way that what we experience does not make sense.

In his 1890 volume Principles of Psychology, William James, the founder of American psychology characterized a baby’s experience as such: “The baby, assailed by eyes, ears, nose, skin, and entrails at once, feels it all as one great blooming, buzzing confusion.” Yet, developmental psychologists now know that James was decidedly wrong. Even at an early age, as we close and open our eyes, what we experience is not a scrambled set of sensations but a unified world that we understand and that makes sense.

Such an integrated, unified world has orderly physical laws that make prediction of events possible compared to a chaotic or random system. Because we live and are part of such a unified, orderly world, humans have evolved unique prediction algorithms to anticipate outcomes, understand the meaning of actions of others, etc. (Reducing Uncertainty in a Chaotic World and Our Predictive Brain).

Unified implies an experience of closeness, intimacy, and love. Each one of us comes into environments varying in love and acceptance. This can either extend our intrinsic unity experience or cause the dark curtain of okeagnosia to descend quickly. How thick that curtain is distorts and destroys our sense of unity. And it affects how we feel toward others and our environment. We become distant, cold, unemotional, fearful.

Now that you know, are you ready to step into the path of regaining the greatest gift you were born with, the jewel at the center of your being? Start by asking yourself, which sense did I display as a baby? What sense do I display now? How do I get from here to there?

Living Up to the Greatest Commandment

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Jews and Christians are under ethical, religious, and spiritual obligations to follow Biblical precepts. The Ten Commandments, known also as “the ten words” or as the Decalogue in Christianity, are principles to guide our behavior. The commandments, detailed in Exodus 20:1-17 from the King James Version, describe a relationship with God, e.g., “Thou shalt have no other gods before me; do not make unto thee any graven image; do not take the name of the Lord thy God in vain.” The remaining commandments describe specific actions that characterize exemplary behavior, e.g., “Thou shalt remember the sabbath; keep it holy; honor thy father and mother; do not murder, commit adultery, steal, bear false witness against thy neighbor, or covet thy neighbor’s house, wife, slaves, etc.”

In Christian theology, Jesus freed his followers from the obligation to follow the hundreds of commandments in Jewish religious law. He did not, however, remove the duty to keep the Ten Commandments. In Matthew 22:35–40, Mark 12:28–34, and Luke 10:27, Jesus acknowledges their validity. He then asks his disciples to go further, demanding a righteousness exceeding that in the Old Testament. When asked, “which is the great commandment in the law?” Jesus answered, “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind. This is the great and first commandment. And a second is like it: You shall love your neighbor as yourself.”

Jesus considered these as similar precepts, for if we love God with all our heart, soul and mind, loving our neighbor is the natural consequence. For the Christian faithful, it is the core of their lifestyle and values. But why is it so difficult to live this reality? One cynical reason is that no sanction is associated with their lack of execution. Thus, individuals can call themselves Christian, not follow the commandments, and have no fear of their misbehavior. Even if they believe that punishment can only occur following earthly life, it is easy to ignore. The association is so far removed that it will not weigh very much on their conscience. My intuition is that these are not the “virtuous” people God is hoping to shape.

So, can people call themselves Christian if they cannot live up to these commandments? Yes, but it matters whether they try as opposed to having an uninterested and lackadaisical mindset about it. God gave many hints He wants his followers to make the effort. The most perfect expression of this expectation is Matthew 7:7, “Ask, and it will be given to you; seek, and you will find; knock, and it will be opened to you.”  If we assume that those who see themselves as Christian do struggle, then what prevents them from complying? Let’s for now ignore the first part and focus on the latter part of the commandment.

First, God would not command “love your neighbor as yourself” if it were beyond the capacity of humans. Second, God is the source of Life. When the faithful love Him with all their heart, soul, mind and strength, they grow to recognize that everyone is part of His creation. My intuition is that most of the faithful know and exercise this understanding intentionally as well as unconsciously. They show it in the tithes they give, the charity work they do for their churches, and the individual volunteering seen across the world. But when they do not identify with others, it means there will be moments their actions dissociate from this ideal. What gets in the way? I argue it is the nature of human individuality in relation to unity.

This argument resembles that proposed by Martin Buber, an Austrian-born philosopher, who considered the distinction between I–Thou and I–It relation. In his analysis, Buber attempted to understand how human individuality fits into the universality of God. His reasoning followed that “I either understand myself as God or God as myself.” Neither of those, however, appeared to be correct or satisfactory. And thus, the need for a third alternative. Jesus, who became Christ, is a perfect and symbolic representation of this third relationship. Or what Buber characterized as “I am in God and God is in me” relationship. I keep my individuality as I recognize I am also part of the whole. Jesus as a human being is the embodiment of such an interactivity. Christ is the actuality that such consciousness is a possibility available to everyone.

As long as we see the world from an individual perspective, self-centered actions will prevail. When we perceive ourselves as embedded in the “I am in God and God is in me” relationship, then others become as important. And actions follow that perspective. This relationship thrives when fostered, learned, prayed for, and exercised. When that awareness becomes a natural response, then living up to the greatest commandment develops into a real and effortless life.

What can be done to make this awareness a natural response? Make the following exercises a part of an everyday routine. This will promote learning to “love your neighbor as yourself” and set up an “I am in God and God is in me” relationship:

For more thoughts on this issue, check this blog for future essays.

The Relevancy of Being

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I wish to be relevant.
I do not want my ashes
In the dustbin of history.
It is a terrifying thought.


To be invisible,
To be irrelevant,
Unable to add
To the human enterprise.


In the midst of a pandemic,
This consuming hunger
And accompanying fear
Is exposed.


As I shelter at home
And avoid the world,
I feel less able to add
To the human existence.


The existential crisis grows.
My insignificance is clear.
I have no ground to stand on
And I disappear.


Then, out of the ashes
Something new is reborn.
With a new relevancy
The relevancy of being.


Nothing to do,
Nothing to be,
No more,
No less.

Did God Have Any Choice In Creating The Universe?

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“Let there be light,” God said in Genesis 1:3.

Albert Einstein framed the question that is the title of this essay. Another way to ask it is whether nature had any choice regarding the fundamental principles it exhibits?  As a non-expert, I consider the laws of physics similar to the Ten Commandments. I see them as rules determining the behavior of matter imposed by the Creator of the universe. This, however, is a more theological than an objective viewpoint.

A more scientific perspective is to view the laws of physics as human inventions, i.e., mathematical formulas that quantitatively define the results of observations and measurements. It’s relevant to underscore that such laws are not built into the structure of the universe and that physicists are not just discovering them.  Rather, these principles fall out of the models and parameters physicists develop to describe the observations. Unfortunately, these patterns do not explain why nature is so predictable, instead of chaotic and unpredictable? And why these laws are similar under unique conditions?

The latter question is actually easier to answer than the former. From the beginning, scientists agreed that these laws of nature were free from any type of frame of reference, a proposition called the “principle of covariance.” This was not a choice, but the result of the modeling. We now understand that this neutrality arises from space-time coordinate independence; Meaning that all the fundamental physics follow from the principle of point-of-view invariance. Recall, for example, that light travels at the same speed regardless of the observer’s perspective.

The present Standard Model of particle physics assumes the existence of six “flavors” of quarks, three “generations” of neutrinos, and one Higgs particle. This model comes with 19 constants of nature — numbers such as the mass and charge of the electron — that are measured in experiments. These are the basic parameters of the universe, although translating this design into reality remains riddled with disunions, holes and inconsistencies. Instead of the model producing a single solution, or one unique universe, a slew of solutions or universes exist. It is analogous to having a 26-letter vocabulary  that can produce an infinite number of words.

The question that arises is, if our world is but one of many, how do we explain the alternatives? From a quantum physics perspective, these alternatives are considered “probabilities.” String theory (or M-theory) is, at this moment, the dominant and most consistent candidate for a theory of everything, including these alternative probabilities. String theory, offered in 1995 by the physicist Edward Witten, presupposes that gravitons, electrons, photons and everything else, are not point-particles. Instead, they exist as tiny ribbons of energy, or “strings,” that vibrate in singular ways. M-theory can describe all nature particles and forces, including gravity, while obeying the strict logical rules of quantum mechanics and relativity. The problem is that no empirical evidence for M-theory exists.

Robbert Dijkgraaf, Director of the Institute for Advanced Study in Princeton, New Jersey, has recently stated: “By shaking the universe hard enough, we would be able to move from one possible world to another, changing what we consider the immutable laws of nature and the special combination of elemental particles that make up reality.” What this points to is that thinking of physics in terms of fundamental building blocks may be inaccurate, or at least of limited usefulness. Instead, what Dijkgraaf proposes as a solution is to consider an immense “landscape” that connects every instantiation of solutions or universes. Consider, if you will, maneuvering through a myriad of islands in a vast ocean. Below the surface, these “independent” reefs are outcroppings of an extensive and interconnected mountain range.

The principles of nature, or the specifications applied to interpret our measurements, may be accidental, or local to our environment (at least our part of the Universe). They are neither dictated by any universal principle, and not generic or required. Another way to view this is to consider that the laws of physics appear in space and time as resolving uncertainty. Resolution of ambiguity is “information” – one that is circumstance- and location-dependent. Without such contextually dependent information, organic existence as we recognize it in our world should not have occurred. It is also why such life is unique.