Robert Walker Online

I disagree with William James when he says that we need to look to those of our inner desires that logic cannot sway for our understanding of right and truth. It’s the word “desires” that I object to here. . . . I am [also] suspicious of anything that claims authority in its supposed immunity to logic. That strikes me not only as inherently suspect, but as religious, as one of the very problems I see with religion.

I am suspicious of any idea that someone claims is not subject to logic; especially ideas that are used for subsequent ideological systems and authorities, which dictate the way those who buy into them should act. Those who are selling and buying such ideas must not recognize the irony of their using logic (the very idea of validity) to undercut logic. If you think you have an idea or ideology that is not subject to, or derived by the use of, logic, I’ll tell you you’re full of shit.

We are products of persuasive, influential, subtle, and sly conditioning. How do we know that this “inner will,” this “inner (moral) compass,” is not just a product of years and years of conditioning, a conditioning of the human species as well as the individual?

I cannot trust the motivations of he who cannot allow for the questioning of his most basic assumptions. And conversely, I am inclined to trust he who actively admits that his assumptions are the product of conditioning, and not God-given or a priori in a way that future experience and examination might not alter or allow to be seen more clearly.

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From my personal notes, 12/6/99.

What is religion but a way of grappling with the unknown? Of being able to somehow express, be a part of, that strange spirituality, that strange “something more” that we humans feel about life?

It is not necessarily a way, like science, to try to know the unknown, but to accept its power, resign oneself to a place in the scheme of life, a scheme that we don’t understand, and yet feel ourselves to be part of. It is both a burying of one’s own head in the sand and the problematic notion of a leap of faith.

And thus, as it is a way of reconciling with the unknown, religion is a form of seeking; but unlike the sciences, it is also a way of accepting. It is indeed important to learn the wisdom of acceptance, and yet at the same time to accept the idea of possibility and to be open-minded.

The art of acceptance without credulity, acceptance without advocacy/endorsement. This is the tension of religion in a life teeming with possibilities too numerous and varied for the human mind to grasp.

How can there be religion without belief? And how can there also not be ignorance and a certain amount of arrogance and close-mindedness cloaked in that veneer of belief-faith, a false humility in the context of thinking you know? For to claim that you know what you yourself say you cannot know (God) is to say you know something you cannot know. What could be a higher yet more simple form of ignorant arrogance?

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From my personal notes, 12/1/99.

A problem with people is that they are never satisfied. In fact, belief in, and pursuit of, the “American Dream” only makes it worse, as we are conditioned to always want more, that more is better. A rolling stone gathers no moss. Thus, we are taught that it is wrong to be satisfied with what we have. One is wrong, bad, a Commie, if she does not want more than what she has. In fact, though, the truly happy person is she who is always satisfied with what she has.

It is not that we must never change, or never strive for the change that comes with awareness. On the contrary; change is good and natural. Rather, the trick is learning to not crave change born of denial, greed, or envy. The grass may always look greener, but it is also always a mirage.

One must learn to not crave change born of unmindful and thoughtless dissatisfaction. It is important to ask oneself why one is dissatisfied, for this will root out what one wants. This is where the issue lies, for it is what we want and think we need that must be examined and looked at with an open mind and heart, undistorted by the illusions of our so very conditioned existences.

Shine a light on your motivation, on why you want what you want, and whether it is really something that you want or need. For in the “why” lie the answers that confound one, and are the cause of dissatisfaction. This is a key to happiness. It is not a grudging, self-pitying resignation; it is learning true satisfaction, which can only come from a thirst for truth, seeing things as they really are. He who is unsatisfied with what he has will forever be unsatisfied. But, he who is never satisfied with what he knows, he will learn true satisfaction. For he will eventually learn that having, ownership (in any form), is but an illusion, a phantom carrot that can never be grasped; it is a craving that will never be satisfied, for he who wants to “have” will never have all he wants to have. Only he who no longer needs to “have” can truly be satisfied, for he does not (feel the) need to be satisfied.

This is one way that the “American Dream” is a farce and a lie, and on the absolute wrong track, for it tells us that we need to have certain things to be happy—money, and the things that money can buy being central. Money allows the so-called pursuit of happiness. This society is based on that idea.

As I have discussed elsewhere, money is only “needed” in a societal context in which money is set up as the middle-man between people and the necessities of life. We have let economics dictate (and thereby be mistaken for) ideology rather than the other way around.

In this kind of capitalistic society the people live to serve the system, the economy, and, in kind, those who have the most money and the economic ideology that keeps the great majority of people running on the hamster-wheel. The system is set up to sell us things, and our job, our raison d’être, is to buy stuff and sell—or help other people sell—stuff. Those jobs that are not about buying and selling stuff are allowed to be there to support the system in one way or another—the ultimate point of that job (regardless of what one might like to tell himself) is to serve the system. (An example of this is the charity organizations that serve to get homeless people in a position where they can plug themselves into the system with a patronizing pat on the back.) Anything that doesn’t fit into these modes necessarily exists at the fringes.

I think that the system of society should rather serve the people, and be set up in a way to help everyone who wants to pursue enlightenment and freedom. That cannot happen in a capitalist system in which the people serve the system. It’s backasswards. The American Dream is a lie. Everyone knows the cliché “money can’t buy happiness,” but no one seems to believe it or live it. At least it is very difficult, if not impossible, to live it in this society. Too bad, because, like most clichés, it happens to be true.

Happiness is not a place or a thing, it is being who you really are, being awake, which has nothing to do with our surroundings, let alone what we “have” or do not “have.” Home is something that is inside of you, it is not a building or a city. The U.S. ideology believes in and espouses the “pursuit of happiness” only as long as a (major) part of that pursuit is the pursuit of money to spend. America champions freedom and the pursuit of happiness, but only as long as that happiness involves making and spending money. If it doesn’t, and you don’t already have a lot of money in the bank, then you’re going to have a very tough time, and not necessarily in a good way.

I point all of this out not to complain. On the contrary. It is simply to get the truth of things out on the table. Unearthing the truth of things is what the path to enlightenment, and therefore happiness, is all about. I simply want to point out the facts, the consideration of which will of course involve people recognizing that they don’t know what they think they know, that they have been buying and selling fool’s gold. So be it.
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From my personal notes, 11/28/99.

I suppose one of my questions is whether it is possible for a person to strip away the ego, to become less self-conscious and more self-aware, or if we are doomed, like Adam and Eve—that after the fall from grace there is no going back, that there is no way to return to “paradise,” because there is no way to become unself-conscious just as it is impossible to unbreak a window. Is this part of the underlying sadness of the human condition? It almost seems to be that this conditioning-bound ego style of existence must have an underlying sadness and disconnectedness. Which fits well into the idea that happiness is the recognition and letting go of the illusion of the ego-self.

This pandemic yearning—or craving—for love seems to cause a lot of problems. I wonder what the effects are on people who never felt that love in their developing childhood years. Are they doomed to crave love the rest of their lives, trying to quench an unquenchable thirst?

This becomes, of course, a hardship and difficulty not only for themselves, but for the people they love and who love them. Since such people were never truly loved, never saw love, as children, they have never really known what love is, it has not been a part of their development and conditioning. Thus, misguided from the outset, they love with a craving, insatiable ache, a need to be loved even though they know deep down that they cannot trust and accept that love, partially because they do not know how to be loved; they are not worthy of love. Like a servant, they do not accept it, knowing their place; that as a servant, they know that regardless of what their master says or does, they can never truly be looked at and treated as a peer. A servant is not loved, a servant is paid; a servant is used. They are like the crippled boy in the wheelchair who, no matter how much he wants to play the game with the other children, knows, in a very sad, very adult way, that it just isn’t for him.

The only real love is an unselfish love, but for the above reasons, I think it is hard for people who did not grow up feeling love to trust, believe, or accept it if it comes along later in their lives. For them, as adults, to love unselfishly is to be a sucker, for no one they meet loves unselfishly, and the ones that seem to have the same problems they have.

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From my personal notes, 11/27/99.

It is hard for me to trust people’s intentions, and to believe that they would want to do something for me unselfishly. (Sadly, when it comes to most people, my cynicism here is well-founded.) It is no wonder this is the case, considering my childhood. Though I obviously couldn’t understand the complexities involved at the time, I was still (subconsciously?) aware of the inconsistency and irrationality, the untruthfulness when it came to what was said vs. what was done, when it came to what someone says vs. what they are really thinking, what their real motivation and intention is, what’s really going on in that person’s mind, which is inconsistent with what they say and do.

And so I got very good at seeing what was really going on with people. I got really good at seeing how full of shit people were about things, especially when it came to things done out of an ostensible selflessness.

Not everyone is self-centered to an extreme, but most people are self-centered and selfish to certain extents. It may manifest in outright selfishness, or in arrogance, being judgmental, close-mindedness, envy, jealousy, etc. And so this brings up the issue of whether or not people are worthy of trust, for most are not.

Lately, I have been feeling an inconsistency with how I really am and how I have been interpreted and judged. What might come across as selfish (when I finally give up on people, for example, or refuse to suffer fools gladly) is not done for just myself, per se, it is more that I realize I am wasting my time which could be better spent on something, or someone, else. To act selfishly is to act for oneself at the expense of others, putting your worth above anyone else’s.

It is not that I want people to come over to my side, agree with me, and think what I think. It is rather that the things I have come to understand about the way things work tend to challenge what they assume and what they think they know. The hope is that that would trigger or influence them to think more about what they think, not what I think.

I do not profess to have the answers; it is rather that I want people to think about their own beliefs and assumptions and see that they are not making up their own minds about things, even when they think they are. It is about questioning, not answering. I do not presume to think I have the answers, but I do think that before we can even think about answers, we must first question well the assumptions and certainties we rely upon.

I would simply like to see people open their minds, open their eyes, see clearly and to think for themselves, to challenge themselves and the authorities to which they appeal, to see that they are not now thinking for themselves, that they do not know what they think they know, that their beliefs are based on things that they would never base other things in their life on, which is contradictory and hypocritical. I have no agenda. I have no beliefs that I am selling. I do not think I am “right;” the only thing I know is that I do not know; the only thing I am right about is questioning what is assumed to be right. This is not egotism; it is realism and open-mindedness.

I am always open to another perspective, another way of seeing things, but mainly perspectives that are not based on illusion, stupidity, egotism and so forth. It’s about attitude as well when it comes to whether I will be open to a person’s ideas. The fact that someone else has an agenda does not mean that I do; the fact that someone else thinks they are right, thinks they know things, does not mean I do. That would be invalid logic, a false logical leap of transference born of defensiveness, ignorance, and arrogance.

This is one way I have been misunderstood. . . .

It is this underlying, conditioned feeling of my own worthlessness—that I am not worth being deserving of love, happiness, the designation of being a person—that I see has colored my own perceptions and certain subsequent actions in my life.

An important thing I have come to understand when it comes to all this is how wrong it is to try to inflate a deflated ego, and rather to see where that deflation came from, and to remember the trappings and distorting nature of the ego itself. This kind of back and forth from one extreme to another (“I’m not worth anything.” “No, you are worth something. . .”) is missing the point, because they both are inflating and deflating something the nature and very existence of which should be questioned and examined; for it is very possible that this ego, this thing that we take for granted, and thus spend our time inflating and deflating, is really an illusion, a dualistic imposition upon ourselves and a nature which, itself, may not be dualistic.

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From my personal notes, 11/27/99

From where does this need come to be judged in the eyes of others? It is a desire for validation. And yet people crave, and think they need, validation from that which is inherently fickle and volatile, impermanent—that is, the opinion, the judgment, of others. Because our ego-oriented, dualistically-inclined minds tell us that we do not exist without someone to see us, to tell us we exist, to validate our existence.

So do we need others to validate/determine whether we are good or bad, right or wrong, pretty or ugly, and so on? We are thus, at our most basic levels, conditioned to be dependent on the validation of others for not only our own existence, but how—and how well—we exist. We rely on others, either directly or indirectly, to decide for us who we are.

This is how most people live their lives, whether they are aware of it or not. They do not understand that we do not exist because of, we are not defined by, the perceptions of others. Just like that thing over there which we call a tree, we exist; the tree does not exist because we perceive it and thus validate its existence, just as we do not exist merely because others perceive us. Of course, I have also argued that we are defined by our perceptions of things, so the point is not that we can exist in a vacuum without anything else also existing, but rather that it is not other people’s perceptions of us, but our perceptions of them and all things, that define us and make us who we are.

Can we then say as well that our existence is dependent upon our perceptions of ourselves? When we see this, we see that we base our happiness, our sadness, our beliefs, our insubstantial judgments and opinions, our very existences, on not only the perceptions of other people, but our own. Thus, we base everything on perception, for without perception, we cannot even fathom existence. This is one of the most important hurdles for humans, our understanding of reality, the universe and our place in it. If we base our existence on perception, then we will always be confused, disappointed, and feel insubstantial, for that on which we base our very being is insubstantial and illusory by its very nature.

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From my personal notes, 11/26/99

The unbearable lightness of being. I do not think that we should offhandedly dismiss people who are, or at least seem, “light,” especially those who are smart. Because I think we can all look around at the world and see how the things to which we become attached—whether it be a person, a belief, a job, an idea, a morality/ideology—can weigh us down, and thus slow us down. In fact, people who judge those they consider to be light are possibly themselves weighed down by all of the assumptions, beliefs, conceits and so on which allow them to be so judgmental in the first place.

On the other hand, a lot of people who live light lives are simply avoiding life and refusing to deal with reality just as much as the weighty people who use things to keep themselves too busy to deal with reality. People who are light understand the danger of attachment, the inevitable narrowing of the mind with each new, or strengthened, addition. What they do not always understand is that their distancing reaction is not the only way of dealing with the situation. There may be other ways to be light and still get the benefits that those who seem weighed down get.

People, generally, do not seem to have the skills to go through life without clinging and attachment. Since we do not seem to be able to think about love without need, dependence, and attachment, we inescapably limit ourselves to the degree with which we become attached to things.

One of the most difficult attachments to understand and overcome is our attachments to our assumptions. For example, most people would say that the greatest human emotions come expressly from/with attachment, that you cannot truly “live” without attachments, something to “care” about. But then, the Buddha taught that happiness can only be achieved without attachment. Which is right?

Don’t most of us feel “alive” when we are emotional? Don’t most people consider love to be an emotion as well as whatever else it is? Don’t people mistake passion for love? On the other hand, some people feel most alive when they are calm, in harmony with things, when they feel strong and yet light, balanced, going with the flow, feeling things without clinging to them. Do we have to have a vested interest in something/someone to care about it/them? What do you mean by “care?” Don’t most people tend to equate caring with attachment as well? We normally do not care about things we are not attached to, things in which we do not feel a vested interest. What is the common thread in that? The self. That it is actually about us, not the thing or person.

I think that there is a way to “care,” to feel connections, feel close to things, feel love for things (especially people) without attachment. Essentially, it comes from recognizing and letting go of that to which we cling, of recognizing the selfishness of the craving and fear that is behind what we mistakenly think of as love. It is achieved by breaking down our illusions, our assumptions about what things mean, about what is needed for us to have and feel certain things, as well as a rethinking of our expectations of what we want and need.

We need to ask ourselves why we are clinging. What is it that we fear? On what is that fear based? Basically, it’s about questioning ourselves about what we want and why we want it and seeing whether those are valid reasons or whether they are actually based on baseless ideas and illusions. The more we see how baseless our illusions are, the more we will see that attachment is actually not love, and that all the things that we might think are about the other person are actually about us. That is self-ish. How can that be love?

Don’t we only love people who give us something, whether that be attention, sex, companionship, validation, security, or even on the other side, a reinforcement of negative feelings we have about ourselves? Either way, that “love” is about us getting something. Can you imagine loving someone from whom you get nothing? Not even a sense of pride that you can love the unloving, the unlovable?

Again and again, when we really start to examine our feelings, and this thing we call “love” we say we feel, we see that all of these things are, ultimately, about us. We see that love is not what we thought it was, that the things we are feeling are actually something else—desire, craving, lust, fear of being alone, etc. And all of these things are wholly about us.

Only when we see things clearly, as they really are, not as illusion, can we make a truly informed decision about things. To love without illusions and misguided assumptions is the truest love, the most real love. Beauty is reality; that which is pure, unfettered by illusion, that which is undistorted by need, fear, clinging, and greed.

True love is unburdened love, a love based not on assumptions, judgments, expectations, and attachment, but on reality (the absence of illusion). Only if they are unburdened and undistorted by assumptions and illusions can our connections be true, real, and strong. How real are connections you need to hold together?
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From my personal notes, 11/26/99

Assumptions. Most people would agree that it is wrong to assume, to make assumptions, that it makes an ass out of u and me. But what most people do not realize is that we make hundreds, if not thousands, of assumptions every day, every hour. These assumptions can be both physical and mental—from the assumption that the things in our house will be in the morning as we left them the night before, to the assumption that we see from our eyes. We assume constantly in order to function on the most basic levels, do we not? Not only that, but our assumptions are intimately tied to our vocabulary. We assume, take for granted, the definitions of the words we use. How else could we get through our day? If we did not make these little, seemingly benign and obvious assumptions, how could we do anything at all?

I do not think that people have to “agree one hundred percent” with each other all the time. In fact, that would not only be boring, but it might be impossible. We all have much to learn, and it can be wonderful to be challenged by another point of view; but I do think that a concerted effort at an increasingly mutual understanding of vocabulary (both of words and ideas) allows us to grow and learn more—to be truer to our natural selves and the true nature of all things. We can achieve this by consistently and diligently challenging our own assumptions in order to allow yielding to a mutual middle ground of understanding, not only of others, but ourselves as well.
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From my personal notes, 11/25/99

The idea that the only great or serious questions are those that a child could formulate. For these are the great unanswerable questions about ourselves and life. Milan Kundera (in The Unbearable Lightness of Being) says that these questions, and specifically our inability to answer them, are what “limit human possibilities, and describe the boundaries of human existence.”

I think this is true, but I think it is even more complicated than he presents it. For I contend that it is the answers to the questions we think we can answer which define and delineate our own selves, our own conditioned human existences. It is when we ask the questions to which we have no good answers that we break down those limits.

And so I contend that questions with no answers set us free, whereas questions we think we can answer (or, rather, the answers themselves, and to be more accurate, our hubris that we think we can answer them) limit and set up the boundaries of who we are, who we can be, and must be. Conditioned human existence is undefined (as in: unraveled) by those questions we cannot answer. Perhaps it is the failed attempt to answer these questions which makes us who we are.

But, perhaps realizing that we may be asking the wrong questions (or even the right questions) the wrong way is what brings us closer to the truth, closer to who we really are.

These questions are those that help us realize that our limits are our own for the making and transcending. Perhaps we limit ourselves by the questions we ask and how we ask them rather than the questions themselves limiting us, for it is we who ask the questions and arrogantly assume there to be answers in reality to questions that come from our conditioned human minds.

We are limited by our arrogance, by wrong answers to bad questions we don’t understand at all, let alone understand why we are asking them.
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From my personal notes, 11/25/99.

This whole idea of public vs. private “business” is interesting (as in: “That’s none of your business.” “That’s my private business.”). To me, no good comes from such a forced and unnecessary division. Why should there be a difference between a public you and a private you? To what end? Is that end a good, valid end, or is it really fairly ignorant, selfish, weak, and generally unenlightened? Just because people have reasons for such things doesn’t make them good or valid reasons.

Who is the “real” person, the public or private? The easy answer is the private. But, that is not quite accurate. It would be more accurate to answer that it is not the public persona—the public version can show us things about the real person by way of what is shown and how it is shown, by what they hide and why, but what we see is not the real person expressing who they really are; rather, we see the neurotic expressions of their ego-self. The point being that who someone is in private is also not necessarily (and, in my view, probably not) the real person either, for he/she is still being and expressing his ego-self, his fake self, for he himself has no idea who he really is.

The good thing (to me) about private being made public is that we can no longer hide behind our own illusions, neuroses, and beliefs. It forces us to deal with ourselves on a more real plain, no longer protected by the veil of private illusion. Because the person we are really fooling is ourself, much more than other people, at least people who can actually get past their own self-absorption to look at and see us. This, of course, is a very rare thing to find.

It’s always been interesting to me how transparent people are, especially when they think they are the exact opposite. This is the epitome of delusion. People envelope themselves in some fake persona, their ego-self, and they believe the hype they are selling themselves. But, when they are forced into the light, when they can no longer hide in the dark corners, then they are forced to start dealing with reality, the reality of themselves first and foremost. How can facing and dealing with reality be considered anything but good and right? I can’t think of anything against this that isn’t steeped in ignorance, denial, and cowardice.

Now, I can only speak for myself, but I have found that the more true I am to myself, that the less I try to have a different public and private me, the happier I am, the more calm and whole I feel. It is just about the truth. When I stopped lying to myself and others, when I focused on the truth, on the reality of things as opposed to what I knew to not be true, focused on questioning my illusions and so on, I felt better. I was able to see just how alone I really was (at least when it came to certain “friends”), but that was fine for me, because it was true, it was honest and real. And that felt good, no matter what.

I have gotten myself to a place that I know I wasn’t before, which is that I am myself (the way I act, what I say, the way I say it, etc.) when I am alone, or with this person or that person. I no longer have one Robert for this person, another for that person, another for my father, another for my mother, and so on. But, how many people do precisely that? No wonder people are so disconnected and disheveled—who are they? Which them are they?

Again, I can only speak of myself, but when I did the work to find myself through all the illusions and crap and beliefs and lies and all of it, I found that I was just able to be true and honest, not only to myself but, through that, to other people, and it is just a level of harmony and balance that I never had. It’s all about the truth.

When it comes to adults dealing with adults, I can’t think of a single valid reason for not telling and living the truth. If your friends or family don’t like or love who you really are, then are they really your friends, are they really your family? That is almost a cliché, something we think we should teach to children or something. But, how many people actually live it? Hardly any. Why? They have no idea why it’s true. That, and they are weak, selfish, and self-centered.

Living a lie is selfish, and doesn’t help anyone. Ever. To think it does is selfish, lazy, and egotistical. And when people do tell what they think is “the truth,” that is often done out of ignorance, selfishness, and laziness, and even cruelty. And that, in the end, isn’t the truth, but a lie/illusion as well.

It gets quite complicated, this truth business.
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From my personal notes, 11/25/99.

It can be tempting to go from heavy to light in our lives, which is why most people live lightly with sprinkles of heaviness. But is heavy always negative? Is one better than the other? Is it all not very relative? Does not something that you love to do only become a burden when you do not want to do it anymore? It was not a burden before; in fact, it was the opposite of a burden—light, urging you on, giving you energy. Only when something happens, and you no longer are getting what you want out of it, or are no longer being fulfilled by it, does it gain weight and become a burden. So, it is possible for something to go from light to heavy. Conversely, we must wonder if it is not possible for something to go from heavy to light. That something you looked at as a burden, as something you are getting nothing from, could change and become light and fulfilling if you see it in another way, change your perspective, change your clarity of vision.

In what ways are those ideas related to illusion and reality?

[added later] This way of seeing light and heavy challenges the way most people see things, which is that things are light or heavy, that there is a given, objective weight to things, such as a relationship, a job, a house, mortgage, and child. This is the perspective of Tomas in The Unbearable Lightness of Being. To him, to be light is to have no connection to things that would weigh him down. To him, things have weight, and the more we have, the more weighed down we are.

In my version, it doesn’t matter how much we “have” or do not have. It is in how we see things, how much we cling to things, how much we come to need/rely/depend on things, how much we are attached to things. It is we, not the things themselves, who add or subtract weight from our lives.

It also brings up the issue of physical proximity. The Buddha left his family, and royalty, to be light enough to attain enlightenment. Is it really all up to us, in our minds—at least initially, when we are not yet disciplined enough to have control of ourselves? Or must we sometimes decide to leave certain things in our lives?

Also, it depends on the kind of lightness. The reason music/the band became light at the very end there was because I no longer cared, I no longer wanted it. Interestingly, the reason it was light in the beginning was because I did care about it. It only got heavy when I started to doubt. Then, it became like a burden. So, it sort of went from light to heavy to light, all depending on my attitude and what I wanted, and why, and the illusions I believed in and clung to.

And so we can see that there is also another way to go from heavy to light. If what was weighing us down was illusory in its nature, to let it go or transcend it is to unburden oneself of the dark illusion into the light of truth. Real love is an unburdening, not of a/the person—and all that you in your mind have attached to them, which in your eyes makes that person really heavy, thereby weighing you down—but of our own illusions, to which we cling.
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From my personal notes, 11/25/99.