Monday, December 17, 2007

Joriki and Tariki: Intention Revisited, Sleepily

One of my friends and fellow students remarked that I seemed more easily inspired than most people he'd known. Rather than being a compliment or a comment that deprioritized my intentional influence on my moods (including the work I've done in the past), I think this was just a description. I wonder a lot about whether something like this might be true. Is inspiration something like height, weight, intelligence, etc.? something that has mostly to do with genetic characteristics and physical influences? And, perhaps most importantly, how can that be tested?

One way to come at it (a way that by itself is certainly incomplete but when compared with other ways might add depth or feel) is to consider what goes into inspiration. It seems that having an abundance of mental energy--while I don't know what that might mean exactly in a neurological sense, it is easy for any of us to recognize when we feel like we have a lot of mental energy, a good sense of focus, etc.--is an important input. Now, I have noticed times when this sort of abundance of energy feeds into itself, as in meditation, and so it becomes more of a feeling of abundant clarity or bliss or peace than a pushing energy that goes somewhere or achieves something (more of a moving out from itself). But that more outward sense of application and achievement can also feed a sense of continued excitement, novelty, and progress that feels inspiring as well.

Living alone, or at least sleeping alone, allows me to sleep very deeply. This is one noticeable and pretty consistent difference between my friend and myself. It may be that I am more likely to seem inspired when I am more likely to have an abundance of energy and I am more likely to have that feeling of abundant energy due to sleeping soundly quite often. It certainly seems to me that my thinking is much more productive, peaceful, clear, AND enjoyable when I have slept soundly.

Having slept well for much of my life, I have developed an often nonconscious expectation of good sleep and the subsequent abundant mental energy. Like I am entitled to my inspiration since this abundance is easy and natural for me. A good amount of deep sleep, then, allows me to dream more lucidly and easily, allows me to think more quickly and completely, supports me in feeling peaceful and focused in my meditation, and makes it easier to enjoy being around others. In other words, sleep sets a good foundation for unintentional joriki--self power or concentration power. In this area, then, I have always been somewhat lucky without necessarily counting my blessings. My friend was good enough to point out my often-unrecognized fortune.

With starting a relationship, sleep has changed. It's common for people to not sleep as well with someone else in the bed than when they sleep alone, and this is my experience as well. Parents of newborns get the crash course in dealing with sleep deprivation, and more power to them. Partially because I expect that abundant mental energy to just be there for me, I've slipped into a measuring mental mode concerning inspiration. The unreasonable expectation works this way: if being with someone reduces what is rightfully mine (deep sleep and abundant mental energy), then something (namely, the other person involved) about our relationship should compensate me in kind. These kinds of assumptions can be funny or have tragic results.

Besides a sense of personal concentration-power (joriki), the Japanese (or at least Japanese Buddhists, I don't know) also talk about something I've seen translated as us-power: tariki. Tariki is a fascinating animal, hard to pin down like Winnie-the-Pooh's Hephalumps, like Mr. Snuffleupagus (for the other fans of Sesame Street). Even if joriki sounds like a strange word, it is easy enough to have a feeling for the thing. Tariki is as easy to feel or notice, but it may be harder to think about since it is often ignored in our culture. I don't know if there is an English word for it specifically. This seems to be one of the most enduring criticisms of "modern, Western" culture--not the lack of a word but what that lack signifies.

So here I am, only semi-conscious of being a conceptual elitist, thinking that uninspired conceptualizing in general is "half-assed" (in the parlance of our times), and waking up feeling sleepy, unfulfilled, and mentally half-assed myself. My entitlement has come home to roost.

These rare moments of humility seem to be connected with tariki. While the drive to achieve is often laudable, it tends to foment dissension between people when the shit hits the fan. In contrast, humility tends to encourage group action or a sense of helplessness, sometimes both. Being individually incapable of succeeding here (or at least incapable of succeeding brilliantly--thinking well this morning), I end up needing to look to others in one way or another. When that's done habitually, unconsciously, and from a sense of entitlement, I end up limiting tariki when I most need to rely on tariki (feeling grumpy and/or cheated and sometimes expressing that). I might, then, try to push harder on my own--which means that I might be likely to turn away from or try to escape the very people who can help me. That method, belief in applying or increasing one's joriki or personal power or concentration-ability, certainly has its place. And working on one's own concentration ability can be a very consistent path to personal actualization.

But there is also a strong emotional truth in my feeling that I should be compensated for my loss of deep sleep. Rephrased less selfishly, the feeling is a semi-conscious recognition that what I am used to cultivating within myself (intentional or concentration-power) is just as readily available between-within myself and the folks around me. Feeling my entitlement and expectation allows me to become aware of the limitations of this particular entitlement. Becoming aware allows me to question how I want to come at this desire for more inspired thinking and connection. Retaining the desire for inspiration encourages me to find ways, or allow ways, of noticing and sometimes actively cultivating tariki.

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