I have a confession to make. Buddhism has been my philosophy of choice for the past 5 years. The smiling face and rounded belly of the Buddha never fails to put me at ease, along with thoughts of non-attachment, meditation, and peace.

But there’s a new kid in town. Well, technically, this kid is older, wiser, and confuses people when they try to pronounce its name.

This kid is Taosim.

I’d read the classic text Tao te Ching in my early Buddhist explorations, but it must have been too poetic, and too simple, for me to truly grasp the wisdom before me.

It wasn’t until this summer, after discovering a passage from Adyashanti’s The End of Your World, that I rediscovered the concept of flow:

“Enlightenment is when everything within us in cooperation with the flow of life itself, with the inevitable.

When we’re not so conflicted and divided inside, we get a feel for the inevitable-where life is moving, what direction it is going in. We no longer ask “Is this the right way? How do I know it’s the right way?” This kind of question actually distorts our perception. There’s something much more subtle occurring; it’s the flow of life itself.

When we say a simple and sincere yes to life, yes to death, yes to the ego’s own dissolving, we don’t have to struggle anymore. It becomes a new way of navigating through life.

Flow is what navigates us through life - not concepts, not ideas, not what we should or shouldn’t do, not what’s right or wrong. Over time, what we come to see is that flow is always amazing.

It is the expression of unity, it directs our existence in ways that are healing and loving, and it brings things together in ways we couldn’t imagine.”

Naturally, I was intrigued. My biggest criticism of Buddhism (and other Western spiritual books) is the concept of surrender: surrender all your attachment to ideas, goals, and expectations, and you will find enlightenment.

Great, I thought. Does that mean I stop trying to do “something” with my life? Do I give up my desire to make thought-provoking films? Do I stop caring about anything? Do I wander the streets like a monk?

Of course, I knew it was more complex than that, but it was frustrating to continuously hear and read without any teacher going deeper.

Adyashanti was the first to eloquently offer the answer: that surrendering control over how your life “should be” actually opens you up to the life you want.

You start going with the flow.

This concept is a core philosophy of Taoism - which is why I decided to follow this particular flow and see where it would take me.

As for Buddha, he’s taking the news fairly well. In fact, he seems downright happy about it.

While roaming around Spadina, I wandered into a retro video game shop. On the shelf were some amazing, hand-painted sprites from classic video games.

I couldn’t resist. I’m now the proud owner of this pair:

Check out more great pieces from Heather and her 8-bit Gallery. (And yes, she paints to order!)

“And the day came when the risk it took to remain tight inside the bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom.”
~ Anais Nin

Written in the Ascension Tribe tent at Burning Man.

After 4 days in the Black Rock Desert, I’ve returned. Many friends have asked what the experience was like, yet predictably, I find it difficult to describe. Yet I’m going to try anyway in an upcoming article for BNT.

Stay tuned…

A few weeks ago, I wrote about my experience at an Adyashanti satsang. Aside from the talk itself, the most interesting part of the evening was the questions asked by a few attendees.

I wrote, “And so it went. Question after question from attendees who desired an answer to their search. They practically dripped with craving; they were intoxicated with the possibilty of insight. They were like addicts to the truth.”

I wondered where this urge to “know” comes from. It wasn’t until I read a passage from Osho, in his book Courage: The Joy Of Living Dangerously, that I found a brilliant articulation of the issue:

The mind has some difficulty in accepting the idea that there is something that is not explainable. Mind has a very mad urge for everything to be explained. Anything that remains a puzzle, a paradox, goes on troubling your mind.

The whole of history of philosophy, religion, science, mathematics, has the same root, the same mind - the same itch.

You may scratch yourself one way, somebody else may do it differently, but the itch has to be understood. The itch is the belief that existence is not a mystery.

Mind can feel at home only if somehow existence is demystified.

Ideas are substitutes for where life is mysterious and you find gaps that cannot be filled with reality. You fill those gaps with ideas; and at least you start feeling satisfied that life is understood.

But is is not possible. Whatever you do, life is a mystery and is going to remain a mystery.

Norman Fischer, a Zen teacher recently returned from a meditation retreat, offers his views on why it’s important to tackle life’s problems head on.

If you live long enough you will discover the great secret we all hate to admit: life is inherently tough. Difficult things happen. You lose your job or your money or your spouse. You get old, you get sick, you die.

You slog through your days beleaguered and reactive even when there are no noticeable disasters — a normal day has its many large and small annoyances, and the world, if you care to notice, and it is difficult not to, is burning.

The people at the retreat were not in crisis — at least no more than anyone else. They are people who have made the practice of Zen meditation a regular part of their daily routine, and come here not to forget about their troubles and pressures, but for the opposite reason: to meet them head on, to digest and clarify them. Why would they want to do this?

Because it turns out that facing pain — not denial, not running in the opposite direction — is a practical necessity.

Read the full piece here.

These questions are in response to a post on Brave New Traveler, asking readers to chronicle their current spiritual beliefs.

1. Why is there poverty and suffering in the world?

There is poverty and suffering because it serves as a catalyst for people to learn and grow. Buddhists would say it exists because of karmic debts that need to be repaid.

2. What is the relationship between science and religion?

Science is a secular religion that confirms much of what tradition already knows. The “knowing” gives meaning to human existence and our place in the world. The terms may be new, but the wisdom is old.

3. Why are so many people depressed?

People are depressed because they search for fulfillment in the wrong places. They are continually told, through media/society/peers to look somewhere other than themselves. They are distracted by external stimuli, rather than finding peace within.

4. What are we all so afraid of?

Being inconsequential. We’re terrified of dying and not leaving a mark on the world – which is an idea implanted by the same media/society/peers that keep us unhappy. When you realize inner peace, it’s no longer a question worth pondering.

5. When is war justifiable?

In universal terms, it is never justified. But in reality, it is justifiable to stop a direct threat to a person’s existence.

6. How would God want us to respond to aggression and terrorism?

God would want us to respond by examining what role each of us play in fanning the flames of terror and aggression. We all contribute to a climate of terror, and we can all choose not to perpetuate it.

7. How does one obtain true peace?

By realizing they don’t need anything to obtain it. All the elements already exist within.

8. What does it mean to live in the present moment?

It means to immerse yourself fully in every activity, no matter if it’s good or bad. By focusing on the experience, you bring your awareness and presence, which alters the present (and hence, the future).

9. What is our greatest distraction?

Trying to obtain external trappings of success. Being consumed by our own delusions of ego. Televison.

10. Is current religion serving its purpose?

Religion in many ways has become a means of indoctrination, rather than salvation. The gatekeepers for the religion are more concerned with money, control, and power, rather than actually promoting human understanding.

11. What happens to you after you die?

I don’t know. I suspect the experience is like passing into unconsciousness. Spiritually speaking, it would be nice to believe your “soul” joins back with the one-ness of the universe while maintaining some kind of individuality - an imprint of all your experiences in that incarnation.

12. Describe heaven and how to get there.

Heaven is simply a way of being in the present moment. Everyday becomes an exercise in creativity and beauty.

13. What is the meaning of life?

To help the universe know itself. That means each incarnation must grow and learn more about itself through achieving their full potential (enlightenment).

14. Describe God.

God is everything. It is the underlying presence that makes up all things. To glimpse God is to feel the interconnectedness of all things, which manifests as the emotion called Love.

15. What is the greatest quality humans possess?

The ability to apply conscious energy to create. We take matter and bend it to our will, for both good and evil.

16. What is it that prevents people from living to their full potential?

Fear, in all its forms.

17. Noverbally, by motion or gesture only, act out what you believe to be the current condition of the world.

18. What is your one wish for the world?

That everyone uses their lives to move one step closer to waking up (enlightenment). That they don’t waste this incarnation.

19. What is wisdom and how do we gain it?

Wisdom is the deep understanding that usually comes from direct experience. But we can also gain wisdom by listening to the direct experience of others, and applying that wisdom to our daily lives.

20. Are we all one?

We are all here for the same reason: to realize our full potential. We are all made from the same matter. It is our ignorance (personal and collective) that prevents us from seeing reality as it really is: that we are all one.

If you’d like to share your answers, read the BNT post here.

“You are all here tonight, because you are here,” began Adyashanti, a spiritual teacher speaking in St. Andrew’s church in downtown Vancouver last Tuesday.

“Why did you come? It doesn’t matter. What matters is you are here.”

Adyashanti sat behind a microphone, with close to two hundred faces watching him from the pews. I occupied a seat on the side, accompanied by a friend. Some of the attendees closed their eyes, attempting to focus more on the words than the man himself.

He appeared in his late 40’s, quiet and unassuming with a shaved head and piercing eyes. He proceeded to speak on the nature of the universe, the spiritual quest, and the problem with wanting to “know the unknowable.”

I appreciated his words and his occasional jokes. (At one point he compared the human body to a 1970’s Cadillac: we love to consume). If you’ve read any Eckhart Tolle then you understand much of Adyashanti’s philosophy on ego and awareness.

It wasn’t until the end of the talk and the beginning of the question period that the evening really felt alive.

The first attendee approached the mic, wasting no time in spilling her words. She confessed she’d spent 20 years as a Christian minister. But recently, she’d had an epiphany which caused her to abandon the church and seek our her own spiritual path.

“It’s just…I don’t know where to turn…or to look. I can’t stop thinking about it…” She barely managed to contain her tears, bordering on hysteria. “My mind… I can’t stop my mind from trying to know…”

Adyashanti addressed her concerns with a variety of questions about this desire. Moments of silence were punctuated by glimmers of clarity. After 10 minutes she had calmed, at least enough to whisper, “Thank you…” before sitting down.

The next speaker took the mic. “So this is what it feels like,” he remarked. “I… I don’t really have a question. I just felt I needed to come up here.”

Adyashanti waited patiently.

“I guess I feel like I’m on the right path, but can’t seem to stay there.”

And so it went. Question after question from attendees who desired an answer to their search. They practically dripped with craving; they were intoxicated with the possibilty of insight. They were like addicts to the truth.

It wasn’t long before it became obvious: Adyashanti could not give them the truth. He said as much. “I cannot give you the answer, I can only lead you to find the answer within yourself.”

It stuck me: where does this need to know come from?

Obviously, the very fact I was there meant that I’m a “seeker” - insofar as I’m not content with sitting back and coasting through life without attempting to answer the difficult questions.

But the irony was apparent. At least for these attendees, the “desire to know” appeared more important than the true aim of any spiritual journey: to simply enjoy the ride.

It was a bizarre dream.

Each day I had no idea what to expect. I could be filming a medieval fight high above Tibilisi, Georgia. I could be samping 25 year old Balsamic vinegar in Italy. Or I could be dodging a bull in the streets of the Azores, Portugal.

Of course, all dreams don’t last forever. And why would you want them to? That’s partly what makes them unique… they have to end.

Check out my favourite behind the scenes pics from 3 weeks on the Word Travels crew.

A few years ago, I decided to band together with my wife and become vegetarian. Prior to this, I hadn’t attributed much thought to my diet. (For instance, I would routinely return home after a late night DJ’ing and warm a few Pizza Pockets in the microwave).

My decision was motivated by a few reasons:

1. My wife is a much better cook than me; by adopting her already mostly vegetarian meals I instantly expanded my culinary pallette tenfold.
2. I was set to complete a 10 day Vipassana meditation retreat, which served only vegetarian food; I figured I may as well prepare my stomach.
3. I knew vaguely about the meat industrial complex, and no longer wished to support such a cruel system.

And so we tried it. We became “vegetarian.”

Enter The Vegetarians

This meant at home we could enjoy our tofu and lentils and couscous and feel good. But this also meant at parties and other social outings, we now had to define ourselves as vegetarian.

“Chicken? No thanks, I’m a vegetarian.”
“Those steaks do look great…but I gave up meat. I’m a vegetarian.”
“Baconaise? I’d love to try it, but I’m a vegetarian.”

I felt odd using that word in public. It felt too much like a label I was using to set myself apart from the other meat-eating heathens. It had become part of my identity. So instead, I attempted to use the word as neutrally as possible to avoid “passing judgement” on the eating habits of friends.

Then it became harder. At dinner, my wife and I would find ourselves receiving special treatment. For instance, say the main course was turkey, but because of vegetarian preferences, the host would feel compelled to cook a veggie option as well.

We were their guests, and we were demanding they change to accommodate us. It didn’t feel right.

The Blurry Line

I began researching the pros and cons of vegetarianism, which led me to some startling truths about the diet. I could outline most of the commonly held assumptions and their rebuttals, but other writers, such as Michael Pollan, have done so far more eloquently than I ever could.

Basically, I arrived at the following conclusions:

• I believe it is ethically defensible to eat animals. After all, we are still omnivores. Humans have consumed meat since the dawn of time. (Disclaimer: I used this phrase as a hyperbole, but as readers commented below, this is factually incorrect).
• I do not believe an animal should needlessly suffer before its death, stuck in abhorrent factory farm conditions.
• I want my body to remain healthy, hence my food to be chemical-free.
• I want my diet to consume the least amount of energy to get to my plate. Meat, especially beef, generally consumes much more energy to produce than chicken or pork.

Which led me to make the following goals in my diet:

• Eat less meat. And when I do, eat less energy intensive chicken, fish, or pork.
• Buy free-range, organic, and perhaps most importantly, locally farmed meat.
• When offered meat, it is more important to honour the offering, rather than pass judgement on the giver. (A practice used by Buddhist monks who rely on food alms to survive).
• Avoid fast food, in all its forms. This can be the most challenging, especially when time/options are tight.

Meet The Flexitarians

This manifesto, of sorts, falls very close to a growing population that identify themselves as Flexitarians. (There’s those labels again).

While on the surface, it sounds like we’re simply vegetarians with little will power, I believe it attempts to elegantly handle the social, moral, and environmental implications around the modern diet.

Plus, it lets me try Baconaise (as long as someone offers first).

Update: after scouring the Baconaise website, I’m unsure if it actually contains bacon.