We just returned to the sweltering heat of Rishikesh after enjoying the
icy beauty of the stars shining down on Gaumukh, the so-called "Cow's
Mouth", or the source of the Ganges River. At 13,000 ft we were looking
almost straight up at the peaks looming 7,000 feet above us. Along the
barren ascent a feeling washed over me, a feeling of the extreme
tininess of this limited being the world calls "Danny" and a momentary
intuition of a boundless ground out of which all things come and go.
It's no wonder so many wanderers have sought enlightenment upon these
frozen wastes where howling winds sing the intimate song of the
Infinite.
It was really really cold at that altitude so we spent
a lot of time under heavy blankets, sipping chai and reading. Anyone
read the 1971 classic "Cutting Through Spiritual Materialism" by
Chogyam Trungpa? I found myself guilty in many ways of this so-called
"spiritual materialism" - i.e. the tendency of the ego to cling to
meditative practice and experiences as a way to confirm or build up,
rather than unravel itself. It was quite humbling actually. There's
lots in there to disagree with, especially as a "Hinayanist" (ie Lesser
Vehicularist) - I still don't understand how the Mahayana and Vadrayana
paths are fundamentally different in practice from the Theravada (ie
Way of the Elders). It seems that when you stop talking philosophy and
get down to business they all converge. Anyway, here is a passage from
the chapter "Self-Deception" which really resonated for me.
He's got another book "The Myth of Freedom and the Way of Meditation" that you might enjoy. He had some interesting observations about the nature of people obsessed with converting others to their way of thinking. In a word he suggests that the urge to convert others is really an attempt to reassure oneself by using the convert as a way of alleviating the pain of one's own disavowed doubt. Of course he's not talking about people like me. Certainly not. No way.If one searches for any kind of bliss or joy, the realization of one's imagination and dream, then equally, one is going to suffer failure and depression. This is the whole point: fear of separation, the hope of attaining union, these are not just manifestations or actions of ego or self-deception, as if ego were somehow a real thing which performed certain actions. Ego is the actions, the mental events. Ego is the fear of losing openness, the fear of losing the egoless state. This is the meaning of self-deception in this case - ego crying that it has lost the egoless state, its dream of attainment. Fear, hope, loss, gain - these are the ongoing action of the dream of ego, the self-perpetuating, self-maintaining structure which is self-deception.
For an overview of the fundamentals of Buddhist theory practice I cannot overestimate the value of Thanissaro Bhikkus "Wings of Awakening." In it he covers the 37 teachings that the Buddha himself (according to the Pali Canon), towards the end of his life, highlighted as absolutely indispensable for understanding his message. The introduction is superb and helped to clarify many aspects of the teachings I found confusing. In addition he provides abundant textual references and related commentary which, when read together, really convey the beauty, subtlety and elegance of the Dhamma, the Buddha's teaching. Don't be deterred by its apparent density - take it in slowly over a few months.
History buffs: you'll like "The Buddha and the Sahibs" if you're interested in how Indian Buddhism's lost history was recovered by a curious band of Brits and a sprinkling of other idiosyncratic Europeans. With many unexpected twists fate and remarkable coincidences, it's a fascinating account (seriously) of how the major Buddhist sites were uncovered and ancient scripts were deciphered by a handful of largely amateur British antiquities enthusiasts over the last 200 years.
If that one doesn't appeal check out Herman Hesse's short allegory on the nature of faith and the meaning of life entitled "Journey to the East." (Thanks Noah!)
Finally if you're looking for something that offers some radically different ways of looking at so-called reality, do yourself a favor and pick up "I Am That." It is a collection of 100 dialogues with Sri Nisargadatta Maharaj, an unassuming shopkeeper who reflected intensively for several years on what he was not and came to some alarming insights about the nature of sentient life. He never had a big ashram, nor a following of celebrities, but nevertheless for forty some years people came to his little apartment in Bombay seeking his advice which he offered freely. The dialogs are transcripts of discussions he had with many different people from different countries with a wide variety of questions. Go be a fly on the wall of Sri Nisargatta's darshan and you might find some of your own questions answered in a new and surprising way.