Harbin Hot Springs
California
January 2009
On the morning of January 27, my birthday, I rise early. It is daybreak when I go out to explore the trails. At the end of one short trail is an alcove with a small but energetic waterfall. I settle, listening to the water, feeling the rocks with my bare feet, splashing my face. When I have what I think I came for, which is nothing in particular, I rise to leave. As I turn, I notice, perched on a rock beside the waterfall, a statue of the Buddha. He is about eighteen inches high and has jewels stuck in his forehead and in his navel. He appears to be wearing lipstick and he clearly does not work out. I’m not sure how I did not see him before this moment.
Without thinking about it, I sit back down and stare at him for some time. Then I think: This statue represents a particular spiritual belief, or set of beliefs, or religion. Had I come upon a Christ-on-a-Cross, I would have thought the same thing. Also true of a Star of David or a pentagram or a sun cross or a lotus flower or a taijitu.
The question occurs to me — and this is the question that has occurred to so many who have noticed that we worship in different temples — Which one is the right one? Which religion is true?
We spend an enormous amount of time trying to figure out the answer to this question. Or rather, instead of trying to figure it out, we argue and fight, shoot bullets, set off bombs, burn buildings, spill blood and tear down societies, in the name of proving the correctness of our own answer to this question. We invent a whole world of trouble concerning which is the correct pathway to God, or enlightenment, or nirvana.
So what is the answer? Which one is the right one? What is the right path? I didn’t get up early just to have my questions unanswered.
My brother Laurence, who is dying, had the idea for this trip. We motored up from his home in San Francisco, to have a serene long weekend in this clothing-optional mountain retreat.
A lot of people find spirituality in these hills, in the pools, some even in hidden alcoves with the Buddha. Laurence, in his white cotton bathrobe, sits zazen on the grass.
Back to finding the answer. Which is the right path, the way to illumination?
1 If you believe any one of them is the right one, that means that all the others are the wrong one. Bummer for them.
2 They are all the right religion, or the right path. Perhaps this works spiritually, but it makes for dreadful logical conundrums. It doesn’t work spiritually anyway: too many contradictions.
3 Perhaps one of them is right for you and you’re content allowing others to believe that theirs is the right one for them.
4 Perhaps it’s all an illusion.
5 Perhaps it’s a question that doesn’t have an answer. Perhaps it’s a question that doesn’t have meaning.
I’m transfixed at the waterfall, staring at the Buddha. I’m thinking that I will never be able to determine the Right Answer. No matter how much searching I do, for these reasons, I’ll never know which one is the True One. The Universe is much too vast for me to comprehend, on any level. Why do I try? Why do any of us try? This is knowledge no one will ever have. And for that matter, what good would it do for any of us to settle on an answer? Where does that get you.
Unless there is an afterlife which contains the answer… Naah, I’m not gonna bank on that. Besides, why wait for that? I’ve got this life to live. And if I must wait, what’s the sense of living this life!
Here’s where I land. Rather than trying to find the right spiritual answer, I’ll be content that they all exist as they are. All the answers exist and all are real, and most importantly, whatever the answers are, whatever the reality, I can let them be.
At this moment, staring at the Buddha by the waterfall early in the morning on the anniversary of my birth (in this lifetime…) it no longer matters to me which religion is right. A religion being the right one doesn’t even make sense. It no longer matters which one, if any, most matches my own personal, spiritual beliefs. It no longer matters even if any of them have any pertinence to me at all. Why?
When I turn around and leave this little place, I will try to live my life as fully as I can. Not in the name of God, or religion, or spiritual belief, but simply, the best way I can, whatever that means. And whatever that means, it justifies itself. I don’t need any imaginary being, or guru’s creed, or “holy” book to supply the basis for my actions. Being good is good enough. Maybe even trying to be good is good enough.
Being good? Well that’s a lifelong pursuit. It’s also a lifelong style. I’m not going to live this life alone, so being good will include all the other folk who inhabit this world with me. Now I have to be good to them too.
No kidding, but at this moment: inspiring, the sun emerges. I must squint the sunlight in my eyes. I guess I’ve been squinting for some time now. Through nearly closed lids however, I find that letting go of the struggle makes me powerful, removes the burden, allows me to be free. The sun shines on me, baby. The thermal, enlightening power of the Universe.
This little jaunt is where, I realize, I am losing any relationship I might have had with religion and that, since the Spirit is unknowable, I’m going to stop trying. I’ve got better things to focus on here in this earthly life.
I walk away from this little cloister, this magical place. But before I do, I stand before the Buddha statue, look him straight in the eye, see through him. I tip him over onto his side. Then I laugh and laugh.
