See the Connection, Not the Differences
November 15, 2010
There is a famous story about Charles Darwin hiking through the countryside in England with his friend:
“There’s an abundance of clover here,” observed Darwin. “This district must have many widows.” The two strolled on, Darwin enjoying the country air, his friend lost in deep contemplation. At last, the friend tugged the great scientist’s sleeve. “What has clover to do with widows?” he asked. Darwin smiled and explained, “An abundance of clover needs many healthy swarms of bees to pollinate it. Thriving bee hives mean there are few rats to raid and ravage them. A scarcity of rats spells an abundance of cats. Who keeps and feeds packs of cats? Widows, of course.”
In Buddhism there is a principle known as Pratityasamutpada. Its most literal translation is the together rising up of things. What this means, essentially, is that all things are interdependent. Each individual person, place, or thing in the world is the result of a collaborative process and a combination of many interrelated elements. Buddhism sets forth that a large part of our unhappiness comes from our failure to grasp this concept of Pratityasamutpada. Instead of seeing ourselves as interdependent and in relation to all things, we see ourselves as separate, and we set up belief systems that maintain and enforce this fallacy of thought. I am fascinated by the way people have historically communicated using various symbols. A fun place to visit if you are ever in Las Vegas is the King Tut museum. Museums of ancient history such as this consistently demonstrate the symbols that different cultures have used throughout history to communicate. Whether you look at the pyramids in Egypt, the cave paintings in France or in rural parts of the United States, prehistoric art in China–or elsewhere–ancient cultures have all used similar symbols. One of the most dominant symbols that different peoples have used is an animal with wings; this particular symbol is often worshiped. It could be a winged bull, winged snake, winged horse, or winged dragon. Regardless of the particulars, this image appears throughout various cultures time and time again. The idea of animals (other than birds) having wings seems to be celebrated by virtually all civilizations. Wings are symbolic of freedom. They represent becoming something powerful, unique, and enlightened. Having wings seems to elevate a creature to an almost godlike status, whereby it is empowered to break free from all limitations. In addition to appearing in prehistoric art, winged creatures also appear as the subject of numerous myths throughout various cultures. In many of these myths, an animal (or sometimes a person) goes into isolation and emerges with wings. In other stories, such as the legend of the phoenix, a bird dies in a fire, and from the ashes emerges a new, revitalized phoenix. All of these ancient symbols seen in art and mythology represent the process or journey of transformation that is undertaken by all forms of life. Most of us have an innate desire to transform ourselves. We believe that deep down there is something that is imperfect with us, which can be made better–and we want to rise above the world and our conditions within it. Because our desire to experience transformation is so important to us, it is something that we should honor. The idea of becoming something better and more significant than we are is valued by all people. At the same time, the need to transform, escape, and rise above seems inconsistent with our general concept of happiness. [Read more]





