Today’s thought of the day comes from Integral Options Cafe. I find it particularly useful to remember this as I’ve gone from a slower pace life in San Francisco, to the busy student life of my intensive Russian course. Just because I’m “doing” more things in a day, doesn’t mean there’s any less time for reflection and awareness practice.

Stream of Thoughts

We tend to be particularly unaware that we are thinking virtually all the time. The incessant stream of thoughts flowing through our minds leaves us very little respite for inner quiet. And we leave precious little room for ourselves anyway just to be, without having to run around doing things all the time. Our actions are all too frequently driven rather than undertaken in awareness, driven by those perfectly ordinary thoughts and impulses that run through the mind like a coursing river, if not a waterfall. We get caught up in the torrent and it winds up submerging our lives as it carries us to places we may not wish to go and may not even realize we are headed for.

Meditation means learning how to get out of this current, sit by its bank and listen to it, learn from it, and then use its energies to guide us rather than to tyrannize us. This process doesn’t magically happen by itself. It takes energy. We call the effort to cultivate our ability to be in the present moment “practice” or “meditation practice.”

– Jon Kabat-Zinn, Wherever You Go, There You Are; From Everyday Mind, a Tricycle book edited by Jean Smith

For your reading pleasure:

(In case you didn’t know I’m taking an intensive Russian course, hence the recent emphasis on all things Russian)

The Emperor’s Three Questions By Leo Tolstoy

One day it occurred to a certain emperor that if he only knew the answers to three questions, he would never stray in any matter.

1. What is the best time to do each thing?
2. Who are the most important people to work with?
3. What is the most important thing to do at all times?

The emperor issued a decree throughout his kingdom announcing that whoever could answer the questions would receive a great reward. Many who read the decree made their way to the palace at once, each person with a different answer.

In reply to the first question, one person advised that the emperor make up a thorough time schedule, consecrating every hour, day, month and year for certain tasks and then follow the schedule to the letter. Only then could he hope to do every task at the right time.

Another person replied that it was impossible to plan in advance and that the emperor should put all vain amusements aside and remain attentive to everything in order to know what to do at what time.

Someone else insisted that, by himself, the emperor could never hope to have all the foresight and competence necessary to decide when to do each and every task, and what he really needed was to set up a Council of the Wise and then to act according to their advice.

Someone else said that certain matters require immediate decision and could not wait for consultation, but if he wanted to know in advance what was going to happen he should consult magicians and soothsayers.

The responses to the second question also lacked accord.

One person said that the emperor needed to place all his trust in administrators, another urged reliance on priests and monks, while others recommended physicians. Still others put their faith in warriors.

The third question drew a similar variety of answers.

Some said science was the most important pursuit. Others insisted on religion. Yet others claimed the most important thing was military skill.

The emperor was not pleased with any of the answers, and no reward was given.

After several nights of reflection, the emperor resolved to visit a hermit who lived on a mountain and was said to be an enlightened man. The emperor wished to find the hermit to ask him the three questions, though he knew the hermit never left the mountains and was known to receive only the poor, refusing to have anything to do with persons of wealth or power. So the emperor disguised himself as a simple peasant and ordered his attendants to wait for him at the foot of the mountain while he climbed the slope alone to seek the hermit.

Reaching the holy man’s dwelling place, the emperor found the hermit digging a garden in front of his hut. When the hermit saw the stranger, he nodded his head in greeting and continued to dig. The labor was obviously hard on him. He was an old man, and each time he thrust his spade into the ground to turn the earth, he heaved heavily.

The emperor approached him and said, “I have come here to ask your help with three questions: When is the best time to do each thing? Who are the most important people to work with? What is the most important thing to do at all times?”

The hermit listened attentively but only patted the emperor on the shoulder and continued digging. The emperor said, “You must be tired. Here, let me give you a hand with that.” The hermit thanked him, handed the emperor the spade, and then sat down on the ground to rest.

After he had dug two rows, the emperor stopped and turned to the hermit and repeated his three questions. The hermit still did not answer, but instead stood and pointed to the spade and said, “Why don’t you rest now? I can take over again.” But the emperor continued to dig. One hour passed, then two. Finally the sun began to set behind the mountain. The emperor put down the spade and said to the hermit, “I came here to ask if you could answer my three questions. But if you can’t give me any answer, please let me know so that I can get on my way home.”

The hermit lifted his head and asked the emperor, “Do you hear someone running over there?” The emperor turned his head. They both saw a man with a long white beard emerge from the woods. He ran wildly, pressing his hands against a bloody wound in his stomach. The man ran toward the emperor before falling unconscious to the ground, where he lay groaning. Opening the man’s clothing, the emperor and hermit saw that the man had received a deep gash. The emperor cleaned the wound thoroughly and then used his own shirt to bandage it, but the blood completely soaked it within minutes. He rinsed the shirt out and bandaged the wound a second time and continued to do so until the flow of blood had stopped.

At last the wounded man regained consciousness and asked for a drink of water. The emperor ran down to the stream and brought back a jug of fresh water. Meanwhile, the sun had disappeared and the night air had begun to turn cold. The hermit gave the emperor a hand in carrying the man into the hut where they laid him down on the hermit’s bed. The man closed his eyes and lay quietly. The emperor was worn out from a long day of climbing the mountain and digging the garden. Leaning against the doorway, he fell asleep. When he rose, the sun had already risen over the mountain. For a moment he forgot where he was and what he had come here for. He looked over to the bed and saw the wounded man also looking around him in confusion. When he saw the emperor, he stared at him intently and then said in a faint whisper, “Please forgive me.”

“But what have you done that I should forgive you?” the emperor asked.

“You do not know me, your majesty, but I know you. I was your sworn enemy, and I had vowed to take vengeance on you, for during the last war you killed my brother and seized my property. When I learned that you were coming alone to the mountain to meet the hermit, I resolved to surprise you on your way back and kill you. But after waiting a long time there was still no sign of you, and so I left my ambush in order to seek you out. But instead of finding you, I came across your attendants, who recognized me, giving me this wound. Luckily, I escaped and ran here. If I hadn’t met you I would surely be dead by now. I had intended to kill you, but instead you saved my life! I am ashamed and grateful beyond words. If I live, I vow to be your servant for the rest of my life, and I will bid my children and grandchildren to do the same. Please grant me you forgiveness.”

The emperor was overjoyed to see that he was so easily reconciled with a former enemy. He not only forgave the man but promised to return all the man’s property and to send his own physician and servants to wait on the man until he was completely healed. After ordering his attendants to take the man home, the emperor returned to see the hermit. Before returning to the palace the emperor wanted to repeat his three questions one last time. He found the hermit sowing seeds in the earth they had dug the day before.

The hermit stood up and looked at the emperor. “But your questions have already been answered.”

“How’s that?” the emperor asked, puzzled.

“Yesterday, if you had not taken pity on my age and given me a hand with digging these beds, you would have been attacked by that man on your way home. Then you would have deeply regretted not staying with me. Therefore the most important time was the time you were digging in the beds, the most important person was myself, and the most important pursuit was to help me.”

“Later, when the wounded man ran up here, the most important time was the time you spent dressing his wound, for if you had not cared for him he would have died and you would have lost the chance to be reconciled with him. Likewise, he was the most important person, and the most important pursuit was taking care of his wound.”

“Remember that there is only one important time and that is now. The present moment is the only time over which we have dominion. The most important person is always the person you are with, who is right before you, for who knows if you will have dealings with any other person in the future? The most important pursuit is making the person standing at your side happy, for that alone is the pursuit of life.”

I’m off to Spain and Morocco for a couple weeks with my sister. See you in July!

As you probably know, Emily and I lived in Georgia. We like to keep up with the latest geo-political chess games played by all the former soviet block countries, but we’re especially interested in Georgia and Russia. My friend recommended this lecture given by Edward Lucas at Google’s Mountain View, CA headquarters to discuss his book, “The New Cold War.” Lucas discusses changes in Russia’s policies under the Putin regime and the effect that has on countries like Georgia as well as western Europe and the U.S. The lecture was thought provoking.

From Lucas’ biography:

Edward Lucas has covered Eastern Europe for The Economist for over twenty years. He witnessed the end of the last Cold War, the parting of the Iron Curtain, and, as the Moscow bureau chief, covered Boris Yeltsin’s reign and Vladimir Putin’s rise to power. He lives in London, England.

Man oh man. Crazy day yesterday. Let me tell you all about it.

After a day of reluctant Tao-following, I had a particularly intense and upsetting conversation about the Universe with my friend D. I had a whole story running around my brain about how I had betrayed someone and made them feel bad. Lots of guilt. So in the course of trying to show me how feeling guilty is totally unnecessary for an infinite being, D starts in on the Universe being meaningless and it’s meaningless that it’s meaningless, etc. Ug.

I don’t do well with meaningless meaninglessness or nothing-nothing. Meaning vs. meaninglessness or nothing vs. something, I can deal with. Nothing-nothing is a very unpleasant place for me. (Yeah yeah, welcome to the non-dual, I know…)

I’m freaking out about this, literally bracing myself against the car repeating, “There is something, there is something…” Coupled with my guilt inducing story of betrayal, not a happy evening.

I finally get out of the car and in this ugly haze get home to see A, the person I supposedly betrayed. Come to find out, the Universe took care of him too. He had not been waiting around for me, but was out with his friend having a great time. Upon finding this out, something snapped into view for me and I could see exactly how the Universe orchestrated the entire day. There was something but that fact was nothing in and of itself. It was nothing for there to be something. Or something…

My body freaked out at this point. I sort of went limp and A had to hold me in his lap for a few minutes. Then I was getting ready to cry over the whole thing but as I started to sob a giggle came out instead. I started laughing uncontrollably and laughing hard. I could barely breathe. It felt like I was melting away. A sort of put his legs across me to ground me. I could feel currents of energy running through my body and out my hands. I kept putting them near his face and cackling, “Can you feel it? Can you feel the energy?” It was completely insane.

Finally I came down and was able to function and talk. I’m still feeling a bit giddy over the whole thing today. Pretty neat.

Was it a “peak experience“? I’m inclined to say yes mainly because of the context, the suddenness with which it arose, and the intensity. Man, I love this spiritual growth stuff some days.

Yesterday at OneTaste were talking about why we come together in community. It got me thinking about the One and the Many.

The One is Source or Non-Being. It is the Void from which the material realm arises. The Many is this material realm. It is the individuation of the One. We are the Many. You and I are tiny points of infinity made manifest in matter. As such we are not only connected to Source, we are Source. We are made of it, it courses through us, through us Creation creates.

Imagine you have a finger puppet on each finger. There is a rabbit and a monkey and a bear and whatever else you’d like. It looks like five distinct creatures going about their business, but take off the puppets and look: one hand, made of distinct but connected fingers, each with a role to play. The One and the Many, hand and finger puppets.

Community feels good because as we join with others, we gain a broader picture of the One. The more inclusive view we can take of the Many, the closer we are to seeing the One. I am one unique bit of infinity (and so infinite myself, but that’s a post for another day). When I join with others, suddenly I see more perspectives, more ways of being, more of the One. As I am able to take on those perspectives, I expand toward infinity myself. Community feels warm and vibrant because we are taking each of our limited views and creating a bigger picture.

Think of community as a stained glass window. How much light can enter through one tiny pane alone? Together not only can a whole room be lit, but a beautiful mosaic arises.

I’m in an uncharacteristically collectivist mood right now. For the first time I’m seeing the value of the group, not just individual participants. It’s a refreshing change for me.

As you probably know, I’ve just moved from San Francisco to Indiana. Things haven’t been exactly smooth. I find myself grasping everywhere for the familiar, routine, comfort and control…

As I wrote in an email just yesterday, “I honestly don’t know what is right. It’s like asking someone to make a clear headed decision when they are in the midst of a whirlwind of thoughts. I can’t even find my deodorant, I feel totally out of control, lost and scared, but at the same time I am optimistic and learning from all the changes, I see that this is causing me to expand and things seem just as spiritual as ever (even though hard). You say truth is what you want from me. It’s hard to find the truth in the middle of everything, I am contemplating impermanence all the time. That seems like as solid of a truth as I can find right now.” I’ll leave you with this quote by Thinly Norbu, from A Cascading Waterfall of Nectar:

This happiness and bliss of god and humans
Is like food that is mixed with poison,
So may I not have desire for even one single hair of this.
All relatives, food, wealth, and suitable companions
Are impermanent, like magic and dreams.
May I never  have attachment for even one single hair of this.

From Catherin Ingram’s Dharma Dialogues via our new friend at An Expedition to Find the Edge of the Earth:

Question:

You say that this divine is playing itself out, but let’s look at the suffering on this planet. For instance, there is an ecological destruction that is creating a living hell for people and other beings who are not awake in this dream, as we can easily see here in India. We are creating a desert of this Earth and poisoning our land, waters, and air. Many more people will face starvation and live in degraded circumstances. Worldwide tensions will increase, and so on. People who are primarily interested in spiritual matters, at this particular point in history, are sometimes accused of being selfish. What do you feel about rendering service to the world, and from where does the passion arise for service if this manifestation is seen as a dream?

Answer by Poonja:
Having known the supreme state, our own Self, from inside there arises compassion. Automatically we are compelled. It’s not service. Service has to do with somebody else. When the command is compassion, there’s no one doing any service for anybody else, as when you are hungry you eat. You are not in service to the stomach, nor are the hands the servant when they are putting food into the mouth. Like this we should live in the world. Service is the responsibility of the Self. Otherwise who is doing this service? When the action is coming from the ego, there is hypocrisy, jealousy, crisis. When the doer is not there, then compassion arises. If a person is realized, then all his actions are beautiful. (Formatting mine.)

Laura and I have a lot of animosity towards Peace Corps. I will speak for myself in saying that my motivation for service was exactly as Poonja describes. There was very little compassion in it, but plenty of hypocrisy, jealousy and crisis. I’d say this is common among Peace Corps volunteers and in the organization itself.

Although it’s relevant to our time in Peace Corps, I’m actually posting this in response to a conversation that Laura and I had yesterday. The difference between service and compassion is the difference between why I joined the Peace Corps and why I helped a friend figure out some tough personal issues this weekend. For me Peace Corps was all about sacrifice, helping my friend was about abundance. Service is sacrifice, a reassignment of deficits. Compassion is abundance, an overflowing of love and understanding. Service is a battle to vanquish suffering, compassion is a channel for life to heal itself.

It’s time for a Singularity post! IEEE Spectrum has dedicated their latest issue to the Singularity. Let’s check out the highlights…

Vernor Vinge breaks it down:

In that event, I expect the singularity will come as some combination of the following:

The AI Scenario: We create superhuman artificial intelligence (AI) in computers.

The IA Scenario: We enhance human intelligence through human-to-computer interfaces—that is, we achieve intelligence amplification (IA).

The Biomedical Scenario: We directly increase our intelligence by improving the neurological operation of our brains.

The Internet Scenario: Humanity, its networks, computers, and databases become sufficiently effective to be considered a superhuman being.

The Digital Gaia Scenario: The network of embedded microprocessors becomes sufficiently effective to be considered a superhuman being.

A PDF who’s who of the Singularity. (There’s my crush, Eliezer!)

Christof Koch and Giulo Tononi contributed a very interesting article on the nature of consciousness. It explains:

To be conscious, then, you need to be a single integrated entity with a large repertoire of states. Let’s take this one step further: your level of consciousness has to do with how much integrated information you can generate. That’s why you have a higher level of consciousness than a tree frog or a supercomputer.

In suggesting that there are levels of consciousness (cue Mr. Wilber), we can conclude not only that something like AI or the Internet could take on human or higher consciousness, but that humans experience a range of consciousness and can expand it. Singularity research will help us understand what consciousness is and how it can be increased.

In general, a machine passes a Turing Test when it can convince a human that it too is human. This usually involves a high level of adaptability of response. For example, my pocket calculator can figure out square roots much more quickly than I can but it can’t make toast. It doesn’t even know what toast is. True intelligence requires not only depth of knowledge (which computers are very good at) but also breadth. Does higher intelligence equal higher consciousness? Does greater range of experience lead to greater consciousness? I think so. Expanding my comfort zone and pushing my edges feels like gaining greater consciousness. Every time I break through an edge I feel like a bigger, more inclusive being. Greater range is good for us and for computers as we all evolve towards higher understanding.

Note: Eliezer called this “IEEE Spectrum’s sad little attempt at Singularity coverage” so the articles might not be very interesting to those of you are big Singularity nerds. However, I think the idea was to acquaint a broader audience with the Singularity rather than hash out the nitty-gritty of Singularity theory.

The title of this post comes from a Slate article criticizing programs like One Laptop Per Child. The article looks at the effectiveness of a computer distribution program in Romania. The Romanian children who received computers on average did worse in school, showed less interest in higher education and those who did show interest in college were no more likely to go into computer science. Surprise, surprise.

In my village in Georgia, kids would ditch school to go play Counter Strike at the NGO run computer center. I’m sure that similar situations exist all around the globe as well-meaning Westerners attempt to close the “digital divide“. A computer without internet access, without a printer, is essentially a PlayStation. I think it would be great to give the poor children of the world PlayStations.

Who doesn’t love a little GTA?