Some thoughts on me and Buddhism
When I was in third and fourth grade, I went through a period when I was completely freaked out about death. Of course, my family didn't go to church, so I had not been taught that there was an afterlife in heaven... for me, death was just the complete cessation of being. Nothingness. And, quite honestly, it scared the heck out of me. So, being the slightly strange child that I was, I spent a lot of time trying to imagine what it was like to "not be." Focusing on nothingness, on ceasing thought, feeling, trying to accomplish an absence of being. I now have words for what I was doing, of course: meditating, but at the time I just did it, in an attempt to overcome my fear.
I had a strange experience one afternoon after school; it's a bit hard to explain, but I was pushing through the nothingness of death, and I had a sudden revelation about what would happen after I die... I had a vision of me, as another person, waking up on a bed that wasn't mine, by somebody who was my mother, telling me it was time to go to dance class. It was very strange, but I understood the meaning of the vision. After I died, I would be reborn again. As someone else. Because, trapped in a single, finite body, there was only room for one consciousness at a time, and when this body failed, that single point of consciousness would be shifted into a new one. Far from being freaked out about this realization, it was incredibly comforting, and it was my secret that nobody else knew. I wasn't quite so scared of death after that.
It was in sixth grade that I learned that people in India believed in reincarnation, and suddenly I had a word for my truth, and I realized that I wasn't the only person who knew my secret. It was nice not to be alone, but when I researched Hinduism, it sounded too strange for me to embrace.
In high school and college, I wrestled with Christianity, and God, and dabbled in Wicca, and tried to find some belief system that fit with my understanding of the universe. I spent a lot of time trying to reconcile the scientific perspective (and skepticism) that I had been raised with, and my growing comprehension that science just couldn't explain everything that I was experiencing in life and believed (and wanted) to be true.
In my last year of college, I took an Eastern Philosophies class taught by an American man who'd been a Buddhist monk in Japan for part of his adult life, Dr. Dollarhide. It was a life-changing experience. Confucius philosophy was interesting, Hinduism was still weird, but Taoism... Taoism I understood. While others in the class struggled, I got it. The light bulb went on, the sparklers ignited, it was like coming home after a long, tiresome journey. I did an honors thesis on the Tao, and my professor congratulated me on understanding concepts that no one else in his class had grasped. I got an A+ on that paper, and I loved every second of my research and writing of it.
Buddhism has its roots in Taoism, and it is a philosophy, religion, and way of life that clicked with me like a puzzle piece snapping into place. Here was an explanation for reincarnation, for karma, and a belief system that worked for me because it was already mine (mostly) but far more refined and detailed. It felt right to my mind and heart.
I don't actually practice Buddhism as a religion, but I do actively try to practice many of the basic tenets. Unfortunately, in recent years I've strayed from that path. I haven't been meditating; I haven't been practicing mindfulness and right thought. And, I need to get back to that. That's where I find my balance and my peace. I'm trying to hold on to too many things, and it's making me miserable. I need to work on letting go.