Like this:

Of the various non-mainstream paths I was exposed to early on (and only in America, it seems, could such a widely followed path be considered non-mainstream, but I grew up in Massachusetts and it’s all about Protestantism, even if you aren’t religious. The mindset is impossible to get away from and hard for other things to infiltrate. But I digress) Buddhism was one that had a fair reaching influence on my path. I was initially introduced to the subject by a coworker when I was 16. Long time readers, and certainly loved ones, will know that this is about time when I learned how to claw my way out of the apathy that had thus far served me quite well. I didn’t get into studying Buddhism then — it would be years before I learned of the political history, the various splinters and paths within, that Buddhism is almost as non-descriptive as the term Pagan can be. Even now, knowing these things, I don’t belong to this path or that path, I don’t actually consider myself Buddhist; I’m not. And yet, I can’t imagine having gotten out of that dark place without having discovered the Four Noble Truths and, more importantly to my own path and pratice, the EightFold Path.

When I first became involved with Poseidon, and later Odin, They stressed Awareness (Poseidon) and Mindfulness (Odin) as important things for me to cultivate. They seem like they’re the same thing, right? Awareness and Mindfulness. But, in practice, for me, awareness is a passive state — just being aware, and yes, stretching that awareness to far beyond me — whereas mindfulness is more active. It’s awareness put in motion.

The Eightfold Path, more than the Four Noble Virtues, gave me the tools I needed to put that awareness into motion. For those not in the know, the Eightfold Path is roughly: Right view; Right Intention; Right speech; Right action; Right livelihood; Right effort, Right Mindfulness; Right Concentration.

I’m already dithering on this topic, in my head. Does it truly count as a pagan topic, if Buddhists aren’t actually Pagan? And then the straw splitting begins, because I know Buddhists that are not theists, I know Buddhists that are softer polytheist, I know other hard polytheists with strong Buddhist leanings. If I’m not Buddhist (and I’m not), why would I be concerned with the Four Noble Virtues and the Eightfold Path?

Later on in life, I would come to rely on the stressing of non-attachment as a tool to help me cope with depression and anxiety and general melancholia. In the beginning, I just knew that it helped. How do these different paths break down in practice in my life, and what do they have to do with my worship of and devotion to both Poseidon and Odin?

Right view: My understanding for ‘right view’ is, looking at how things actually are. I don’t know that it’s possible to take all of our baggage out of the equation, but as a mystic with a strong contemplative bent, it’s my duty to try my best. It means challenging myself to look beyond my own experiences and prejudices. This actually comes up for me a lot more at my day job than in dealing with my ‘real life’. Generally, people annoy me — nothing big, just the small social daily interactions that our society deems necessary and acceptable. Small talk. Idle chitchat. Stupid nothings that fill up the silence. It tries my patience, these things, and I slip into deciding that I’m superior because I don’t need them to feel good with the world, and then I lose my detachment to how one is, and I limp back to the challenge and start over. Finding comfort in these small nothings does not make one inferior, and we all have our own lives and experiences behind us. Right view challenges me to keep focused on how the world is — or rather, the worlds are. Interconnected, interdependent, pretty darn amazing, but also not at all permanent. This is a fundamental step in my process of being able to Deal With Shit that typically overwhelms me — our treatment of our planet, our resources, our whole unsustainable system that we are strapped to until it all implodes. This was the first lesson Poseidon taught me: we aren’t going to kill the planet. We’re going to kill ourselves, and take a lot of others with us, and yes, that sucks, but life will come back. Work on it now, sure, but certainly don’t let it render you incapable of functioning.

Right Intention: I see this as being Right view in motion. It’s being open to the task of challenging your preconceived ideas, being flexible enough in mind and heart to examine and re-examine your ego, your place in the world, your baggage . . . and then to do it again, and again, and again, to be willing to (and then doing) constantly dig deeper and deeper and deeper.

Right Speech: Mind your words. Seems simple enough, yes? Except, it’s more than an Eastern variant to “If you can’t say something nice, don’t say anything at all.” There’s also a connotation of being aware of when to speak or not speak, even if what you are saying is true and causes no harm. Weigh your words, know your environment, speak what is proper to say, when it is proper to speak. There is a season, turn, turn, turn . . .

Right Action or Right Conduct: knowing how to behave in a “morally upright” way. For me, the task is to go about my day, my life, my interactions with people with compassionately. Sounds like not much, right? I’ve talked before about not being a speciestist, but I am folks, I am. If there’s one species I think we’re better off without, it’s us. I’m honestly and unabashedly tribal in my worldview — my family and loved ones, then my friends, and then acquaintances, and then people with whom there is mutual give-and-take, and then the world. That’s my hierarchy, and because I don’t have that divider line between other creatures and humans, yes, I have cats and dogs that rank higher in my hierarchy than acquaintances. Which, yes, means in the, “If you could save acquaintance B or coworker X, or the dog from being hit by a car,” questions, my dog lives, without question.

I’ve worked hard, with sweat and tears and angst and lots and lots of dragging of my feet, at Poseidon’s insistence, to cultivate a sense of compassion for my fellow humans. Not just the ones I like, but also the ones I wish would take a long walk off a short pier. With cement shoes. Chained. Them, too. Not for any altruistic motives, but because it allows me to stay open wider, cleaner, more completely, more healthily. People apparently are worthy of it. We just lose sight of that when we lose sight of the individual and see people en masse. So, for me, compassion is my Right Conduct, my Right Action, or one of the main threads. It’s harder than you’d think. And it does not make me superior when I succeed. It just means I’m doing what I need to do, according to my conscience and my gods.

Compassion does not equal door mat. More on that in two weeks

Right Livelihood: This one is one I have a lot of trouble with. “This means that practitioners ought not to engage in trades or occupations which, either directly or indirectly, result in harm for other living beings.” In the interest of full disclosure, I’m not even vegetarian. I do strive for being an ethical omnivore, but I allow for the fact that shit happens. I can’t always be 100% aware of where my everything comes from and who is exploited so that I may have it — but I do strive (and strive hard) to by locally, sustainably, responsibly. I admit that my ability to do so is dependent upon things like expendable income. It shouldn’t be, it’s terrible that our society is set up that way, but it still is. Less so for us in places like Eugene or Portland or Seattle than in places like Philadelphia — improvements are being made, though, and it’s a process, and we do what we can. The fact that my place of employment (hard enough to come by in this economy) that allows me to live my ideals produces a lot of waste products and is not even a little bit ‘green’ isn’t lost on me. Part of the detachment is not placing value judgments upon myself for supposed failure to attain my goals. It’s a process, it never stops.

Right Effort: One wants to make an effort to abandon all harmful, wrong, improper thoughts and deeds and words, and strive to bring into their life that which is good and proper and correct, in thoughts and deeds and words. Let go of the unwholesome, cultivate the wholesome.

Right Mindfulness: Paying attention! With anxiety or depression or migraines or anxiety, it’s easy for me to dismiss others, become mindless of other peoples concerns and issues and needs, to forget and not pay attention. When interacting with people, the distraction of my body or mental health can at times make me careless and uncompassionate. This isn’t good for me or them, and I’m never proud of myself when it happens.

Right Concentration: This applies, it seems, mostly to a detached meditation practice, concentrating upon the subject until one attains complete understanding . . . this really isn’t how I operate. I dig at something, hit a new level of understanding, and seem to cycle through it all over again, going deeper. It works for me and I’m good with that.

The last three, Right Effort, Right Mindfulness, Right Concentration, sort of all smoosh into the same, for me. They blend and meld and flow into one another. Keep striving, keep that awareness open, focus on the right things that bring you further into yourself. I’m not looking for Nirvana, I’m not looking to end the suffering of all creatures, not interested in getting of the Karmic wheel and attaining enlightenment — see? I’m not Buddhist. I am looking for bringing more of the world into the world, I’m looking for sharing my gods with the world, I’m looking to keep that shiny sparkly wonderment at life and the universe and all it contains alive and thriving inside of me, and, that means compassion and awareness and mindfulness. You can maybe see why these tools the Buddhists provided work so well for me as well as for other people. It’s a model that’s been around for some time; it’s gotta have something good going for it, right?