Photo by Leland Francisco

I no longer pray.

At least, not in the traditional sense that people have of prayer — of verbally talking to a god, whether to ask for something or to praise or adore. Being brought up in a Christian background, I was taught that prayer is powerful and that it can move mountains. I read about great men of prayer who would spend hours on their knees each day. I learned to pray for great things and small things, for healing a relative from disease to asking for an Atari game console (my generation’s equivalent of today’s Xbox or Playstation).

Over time, I’ve had a few of my prayers were answered but many more went unanswered, and I began to ask questions. But then I was told that I had to pray “by faith”, and that prayer had to be “according to God’s will”. And then I thought, well, if it’s God’s will, why should I pray about it then? It’s going to happen anyway because, I mean, who can thwart God’s will, right? But still I was told to continue praying because God loves it when we come to him and ask in prayer.

And for a long while I just accepted that.

But then I thought, why would God want me to keep asking him for things that aren’t his will (which I only have a vague idea about)? I mean, what if I had a relative who was dying of brain cancer. And so I pray for healing. But then it is actually God’s will for this relative to pass on. Will he now change his will (as they say, his “good and perfect”  will) just to give in to my request? That would seem silly, especially since his will is already perfect. So why bother praying? Because he just wants me to ask? He wants me to keep looking and feeling like an idiot? He wants me to keep making excuses for him about why my prayer isn’t being answered?

This made me shift my attitude towards prayer, and to life. Instead of looking at life as a constant struggle between good and evil, for which I have to keep battling by praying for the good forces to win, I have come to accept life as it comes.

Everything is good, even if it doesn’t feel good at that time. The universe gives us what we need from moment to moment, and the way to live is to be grateful for each moment. Prayer is not a ritual, not a grocery list of petitions, nor fancy-sounding words of praise. The best prayer is not made with words, but in living life head-on, without regrets, always learning, always thankful.

I live — and that is all the prayer I need.

Photo by Kell Bailey

For the longest time, I have used zenbananas as my little repository of stories and anecdotes that have inspired me, made me think or made me wonder. Most of the material I have shared were retellings of someone else’s stories that I have made my personal stories as well. For some reason, I chose not to write in a straightforward manner as I am now.

However, as my few faithful readers may have noticed, I have hit a wall that spanned around 8 months. You may be wondering what has happened to me, whether I’m still alive or if I have taken to the mountains. The simple truth is that, well, life happened — got busy, got too lazy to write, lost inspiration, and wondering what else to do with this little blog of mine. And so like your computer does from time to time, zenbananas hanged.

So this is a reboot of sorts. In this incarnation, you’ll hear more from me in this tone. Oh, there will still be stories, quotations, posters and all of that other stuff that you enjoy. But I’ve also decided to make zenbananas my personal journal instead of just a hangout for stories. I hope to share here my dreams and my struggles as I journey through life.

To all those who have left comments in the past, I appreciate those and I thank you for taking the time write them. To those who simply enjoyed reading, thanks for enjoying my writing. Hope you will like what’s coming soon.

TopBanana

Thanks.

Photo by Jared Tarbell

I remember a few years ago when the Vatican abolished “limbo”. Limbo is supposedly a permanent state for the souls of infants who die without being baptized, but who haven’t been cleansed of original sin.

This was major news in the Philippines which is a predominantly Roman Catholic country.  Several people were interviewed by a TV station about what they thought about it and one of the responses amused me. The woman said “I’m so happy the church abolished limbo because now I know my baby is in heaven.”

We need to open their eyes and wake up. Our little beliefs and doctrines do nothing to reality. All these years, this woman has harbored despair in her heart over her dead baby because of a belief perpetuated by a religious authority. Now, when this authority relented on its decision, she suddenly feels relief. What will happen next time if some other doctrine is created? Is my peace of mind to be determined by a group of people who have absolutely no experience of the reality they are espousing?

We like to live in the comfort and stability of their beliefs. That is why when something comes along to shake that belief, the first instinct is to try to explain it away. Failing that, the next move is to look for a cleric (pastor, priest, imam, theologian) and pass the burden of explanation on them. When they explain, we are expected to nod our heads in assent. After all, aren’t these the specialists of the field? Haven’t they spent more years studying and reading books, studying the Bible, the Koran, the Talmud, the Vedas, the Sutras?

Sometimes, some of us still go further and question more. That is the time that others begin to look at us strangely — begin to whisper and say that we are asking strange questions, that we should just accept what is taught and not be such a bother, that we are sounding like heretics and unbelievers.

At this point, most people retreat back into the confines of their belief. After all, most people are not really after the truth. What they want is reassurance. What they want is safety.

But truth is seldom safe. And reality is hardly so reassuring.

Do we then live in fear? Of course not, because fear is an illusion as well — an expectation of things that may or may not happen.

We live with eyes open, in the moment, in the now — realizing the wondrous nature of ourselves and of reality. Life must be savored in all its sweetness and bitterness, in all its highs and lows, in all its tenacity and fragility. The search for truth is a climb up a never-ending staircase. Each step you leave behind falls away into deep nothingness.

Photo by Gustavo Verrisimo

The point was that religion (or spirituality) is about relationship and not so much about rules and regulations. But people today have this whole idea backwards. That’s why people look at churches as a place where rules and norms are observed, instead of a place where one can relax and be oneself.

Come to think of it, that is a large part of what turns me off about church. Aside from mostly unenlightening sermons that make me tune out and doodle on the program sheet, it is the artificial nature of relationships. There is a large amount of trying to look good, of trying to live up to the ideals of what a Christian should be, a large amount of covering up one’s preferences and shortcomings instead of just being honest and open about them.

Followers of Jesus should remember that sinners flocked to him. They wanted to be with him. With him, they felt no judgement, no condemnation, only compassion and rest. This so irritated the Pharisees who did not want to have anything to do with “sinners”.

I would like to extend this idea to most religions — because there is indeed a tendency to have this “holier than thou” attitude when one is steeped in the protocols of one’s religion.

The true measure of one’s spirituality is not the amount of friends you have in your own religion, but perhaps, the amount of friends you have outside of it — who are aware of your beliefs and convictions, and yet enjoy and even yearn for your company nonetheless.

Photo by RC Designer

Spirituality for me has become something very personal. It is not measured in how often I go to church or how involved I am in its activities. I used to think that way though, but no longer. Spirituality is in the moment. It is in the now. If you are not spiritual now, then you cannot be more spiritual in church (although it may feel that way). Spirituality is not a result of actions but comes by just being silent and still inside. It is an inner knowing of who you are — and a constant gratitude and celebration of your being.

When I was in high school (and still very much involved in church activities), I encountered a poem that I didn’t quite agree with at that time. But there was something in it that called to me. I kept that poem and even used it when I was teaching English literature a few years back. Reading it again now, I think I’ve come to understand it better, and I know why it called to me — because that was how I really felt in my soul.

Here’s the poem.

SUNDAY MORNING
by Oscar Peñaranda

Here I am again
sitting alone in my car
nostrils and mouth sucking wafts
of wind rushing through open side windows
on a cliff hanging over the bay there is
music from the radio

that green monster of a gelatin sea
kisses white tongues of foam kneeling
to lick the shore serenading the lone
oak tree
atop the jagged crags of rocks
there is music there also
they drown the chimes of distant chapel bells
come, take my hand
roll up your sleeves
and bare your chest before the naked sun

but

what I want to know is where
they ever got the barbaric gall
to call me
an unbeliever

this is how I pray

Photo by Kevin Dooley

There are 4 kinds of leaders.

The lowest class of leader is one who is despised – who gains authority by inheritance, position or political ruthlessness.

The next kind of leader is one who is feared – who rules with an iron hand, whose punishment and retribution is swift against those who oppose him.

The next kind of leader is one who is loved – who embraces the people and shares their joys and sorrows, who understands their plight, who is pure in heart.

But the best kind of leader is one who goes unnoticed – he doesn’t assert himself, but trusts in his peoples’ capacities and abilities and empowers them to fulfill their duties and responsibilities; his leadership creates more leaders and encourages others to participate.

This leader knows that in refusing to trust his people, he makes them untrustworthy; in refusing to love them, he makes them unlovable; in refusing to value their independence, he makes them dependent.

This leader doesn’t talk much, but he does much. He doesn’t need to say a lot, but lets his actions speak for him.

And when this leader is done with his work, when he has reached the apex of his success, his people will say, “We did it! And we did it all by ourselves!”

Inspired by the Tao Te Ching, verse 17

The preacher said, “The best thing that we can do is to leave everything in God’s hands. Realize that only he knows what is best for us. Don’t insist on your way but let God decide your path.”

photo courtesy of aloshbennet, Flickr

Replied the master, “If I followed your advice, I would wake up everyday and do nothing. What you are seemingly advocating as courageous faith is really a cowardly act of avoiding responsibility. What your God would probably want you to do is to have some spine and own up to the decisions you make. Realize that whatever happens to you is no one’s fault but your own (yes, it’s not even God’s fault even though you’re too afraid to admit that you blame him). Realize too, that nothing is ever good or bad. It is only within a particular situation or frame of reference that they are good or bad for you.”

“This is the key to wisdom: Be a mirror. A mirror reflects but never judges whether what is reflected is beautiful or ugly. It simply shows reality as it is. Be a mirror. Be silent. Judge not.”

Photo courtesy of clairity, Flickr

Back when I was still unmarried and living in another city that was close to the sea, I used to hang out with my friends at the beach. Sometimes we would even spend the night there.

I remember this one night. It was near midnight and we were outside sitting on the sand chatting and feeling the sea breeze blow through our hair. One of us suddenly says, “Hey, look at the moon.”

It had been cloudy a bit earlier but now the sky was clear and the full moon hung like a big ball of light in the sky. The sea was calm and the moon’s reflection on it was quite breathtaking, the ripples of the waves caused the light to glint and dance. It seemed the reflection was even more beautiful than the moon itself.

Earlier tonight, I walked on the dirty, wet streets of the city I now reside in. The heavy rain from earlier on had abated. A passing car almost splashed muddy water on me as it sped across a small puddle. I glared at the car’s tail lights and was about to move on when I caught the moon’s reflection on the puddle. It was a full moon and it was beautiful.

Too often in life, we chase after those things that are beautiful and try to avoid those that are ugly. We run after prestige, money, power, good food, good wine. We don’t like pain, and we don’t like to experience hardships.

Yet, we should remember that the moon casts a beautiful reflection whether it casts it on the sea or on a muddy puddle. The moon is still the moon and its beauty is not marred by the medium of reflection.

Life has so many facets and forms but underneath it all, our substance is the same. We should learn to see the beauty in life, whether it takes the form of a rose or of a rat. These are just external manifestations of the same inner core and substance.

In the end, we should recognize the beauty of all things, of all people, and accept that we are all reflections of the one truth, that we are all part of each other, and that there is no beauty or ugliness apart from ourselves.

photo courtesy of scol22, sxc.hu

When the sage points to the moon, the idiot looks at the finger.”

Experts come and study the nature of the finger. They form theories and doctrines around it. They organize the Church of the Finger and create rules and laws about how the finger should point, when it should point and in what angle it should point.

Amidst all this, they do not see the moon.

Scriptures and religions are all pointers. The Bible is not God, and the Koran is not God. People have built entire belief systems and organizations, have fought wars and endured torture and hardships, for the sake of furthering their beliefs.

But they have missed God.