The Common Man Places the Meaning of His Own Existence…

The common man places the meaning of his own existence mostly in relationships. Relationships are extremely fragile, and it is predictable that, for this reason, the common man falls into a very strong existential crisis. The religious man, however, the true religious man, who has nothing of common, finds something firmer to lean on. Whatever may be said, there is nothing like religion to give meaning to the human spirit, and this alone justifies the honorable role it plays in society.

The Contrast Between Buddhism and Christianity

The contrast between Buddhism and Christianity is really striking. The former can never, ever be mass-practiced, because it simply targets minority psychological types, to use Jungian terminology. Christianity would not be badly summarized as the rites of Christianity, whereas Buddhism consists in essence of a personal inner practice. If we talk about Christianity, we can talk about the Christian community; if we talk about Buddhism, we are talking about a relationship that the Buddhist has with himself. The good Christian guides his actions by the teachings of the Bible; the Buddhist, following in the footsteps of Buddha, has his conduct as a consequence of an inner philosophy. This says it all, and it is unnecessary to spend additional words…

The Path to Enlightenment

Although doing so may run counter to Buddhist doctrine, analytically dissecting the “path to enlightenment,” presented in numerous ways by many different schools, we realize that it can, indeed, deliver much of the results it promises. The basis of Buddhist Tantric practices consists in educating the mind through a self-suggestive process that establishes a new understanding of the self and the environment. Through a collusion between habits and mental reprogramming, plus a retreat that makes distractions or disturbances difficult, the being is effectively transformed. Meditating for hours, days, months in emptiness, seeing oneself and reality devoid of autonomy and self-grounding, believing oneself to be part of a whole, mixed in the same emptiness in which one meditates, although hostage to the illusions of sensible experience, it is predictable that one reaches a rupture—or overcoming—of earthly ties, and consequently reaches a state of soul that oscillates between peace and beatitude. Repeatedly denying the body, the mind, the reality of observable phenomena, the sensations, then visualizing oneself as a shapeless superior entity, strictly controlling any deviation from focus: someone who steadfastly pursues this path will certainly become something different. And to think that all this is just the laying of the ground…

The “Delirious Morbidity of a Fakir”

It is amusing to think that I was probably the first to use “delirious morbidity of a fakir”—that is what I wrote!—referring to Nagarjuna’s greatest work. Nagarjuna, a saint, always rated with superlatives and very precious adjectives. What can I do? Blame my indomitable mind? I try hard to imagine a reality far, far away, the silence of meditation for years, but still I cannot admit the contradiction of much of the argumentation in the work. I want to convince myself that I have not risen high enough, that Nagarjuna reasons from heights unreachable to my spirit. I want to think that the lapse in time, the discrepant reality, and the translation have made the work incomprehensible to me. But I remember some of the syllogisms, and… well, let the future come, and I sincerely hope to be taken by a new impression.