Rogue Monk

AuthorHouse

Contents

Preface......................................................ixRogue Monk...................................................1Vietnam......................................................7Clarence.....................................................11Ethnic Cleansing.............................................15My Greatest Teacher..........................................19One Life.....................................................25Sun..........................................................29Leaving Home.................................................33Jeremy.......................................................43A Thoroughly Jewish Life.....................................53The California Men's Colony Sangha...........................57Silence......................................................61Don't Know Mind..............................................67Maezumi-roshi and My Chi.....................................83Toccata......................................................85Getting Here.................................................89Cremains.....................................................93Mistakes.....................................................97Forgiveness..................................................101Varanasi.....................................................105The Houses on Hartford Street................................115Anxiety......................................................119Grass........................................................123Henry........................................................127A Monastery in Snow..........................................129Waking Up....................................................133The Time Dave Died...........................................137Zenshin, the Elder...........................................141The Group....................................................145Blind-Sight..................................................161Diego........................................................169Grief........................................................173A Dream......................................................177Chris and Ruben..............................................181Thich Nhat Hanh..............................................187Knowing the Better Way to Live in Prison.....................195Pomba........................................................203Enchantment and Aversion.....................................209The Lockhart Sangha..........................................215Losing the Alamo.............................................223Francisco....................................................245On Buddhism..................................................249The Shoe.....................................................261Hungry Ghosts................................................265Kurt.........................................................271Innocence....................................................277How I am No Longer a Buddhist................................285Karma, Ability, and Work.....................................289Endnotes.....................................................299A Word About Photographs.....................................303

Chapter One

I came of age in a family that did not clearly express opinions, wants, or needs. I grew up guessing what might be going through my parents' minds, not on topics like politics and religion, but on ones important to children and young adults. Does she like my friends? Does he approve of my career choice? Do they like my wife? What do they think of the house we bought? What do they really feel about our living in California? What did he learn from the doctor after all those tests? Why does she cry so often? Why do the upstairs doors so often slam?

As a result, I grew into a tense, anxious person prone to preoccupation with what I imagined going on under the surface.

My family was very expressive otherwise. My dad had his career as a professor of art, and as an artist who created award-winning ceramics and paintings. His affect was soft, but I never knew what he thought of anything. He smiled and spoke like Ronald Reagan, including the Mid-Western nod. He was benevolent and nurturing compared to my mother, but I cannot say that I knew him intimately. He kept secrets. He kept quiet. He remained a mystery, silently painting in his studio. My sister and I both loved him, but he kept his distance, at least from me.

Our mother, on the other hand, became hysterical over spilled milk. True crises like my aunt's cancer or a death in the family grew way out of proportion, but a child cannot make this kind of objective observation. We had one family. We grew up knowing that one way to live as the only way.

Anxiety and preoccupation acted like an undertow at the beach. I think my sister escaped the worst of it becoming more like our dad. I had the full catastrophe, first born, only son, and not the son they wanted. Criticism abounded. I became too this, and not enough that, but what went wrong was rarely verbalized clearly.

I had to guess.

It became clear that I was not enough. I overcompensated in school aside from being too anxious to learn algebra and too preoccupied to hit a baseball. I had a lot on my mind all the time. I inherited all the worst characteristics of both sides of the family. It was all a shame.

As a teenager, rather than avoiding all the questions that went unanswered, I ruminated about them. I did not run away from them. I tried to understand and frequently concluded that I did.

In my twenties, I began to investigate my family dynamics through psychotherapy. I analyzed what made my family tick. I made graphs and charts. When I had everything figured out, I started over using a different psychological method. Like my dad playing Bach Inventions, I looked under each note and discovered the intricacies of the counterpoint. I studied the fugues and their variations. I looked between the keys. I checked out the wires and strings. Nothing went unnoticed, and my mother did not like any of it one bit, because she knew I talked about her. What did I say? What would they think?

I stayed anxious and preoccupied while attempting to do well in school, find a career, and date the right woman. I did not escape the family pattern. While I delved into it and analyzed it, I identified with it. I called it my pattern, and I discovered that the pattern produced a specific habit. I developed commitment issues; I called it a habit of limited investment.

When a family expresses itself so vaguely, a child grows up attempting to placate all sides. As a result, the child may grow into a person who makes, as a habit, limited commitments. In a sailboat on the fluctuating waves of a family like mine, one never knew what was coming, so having limited investment in almost everything became a good survival technique.

But in relationships with people, a habit of limited investment leads to brevity, superficiality, and confusion. People do not understand because our society places value on stability and longevity. Someone who does not conform soon finds himself labeled a rogue. Someone like that continues to wonder what others must think of him. He invites judgment and rejection. Someone like that suffers from loneliness...