Ich habe im letzten Jahr an einem Zen-Meditationskreis teilgenommen. Weniger, weil ich mich als Zen-Buddhist verstehe, sondern weil ich die stille Gemeinschaft gesucht habe, um meiner Praxis nachzugehen. Während des Dokusan habe ich mich darauf eingelassen, meinen Fragen aktiv nachzuspüren. Ich habe viel aufgegeben und hinter mir gelassen. Das war überraschend leicht. Der ‚Lehrer‘ machte mich darauf aufmerksam, dass die Heimatlosigkeit, die ich praktisch aktiv einleite, auch ein spiritueller Zustand sei. Das war befreiend.
Instead of tying one's self to an identity that is bound up in social structures, my philosophical and spiritual journey leads me to a consciousness that tries to free itself from this illusion. Home has no meaning in this context, or if it does, it has a completely different meaning - living in harmony. This harmony is arbitrarily complex and co-present. A physical reference point for the body is not a home - the social, cultural, political, spiritual is perhaps more so. But here too, the point of reference in Buddhism or Hinduism is different. The core is to understand oneself as part of a diversity and immanent unity, which contradicts the concept of a home.
Being homeless is a spiritual state. It is not negative, but a goal. I have always felt homeless, I have always had difficulties with the concept of self. I have always been searching for an answer that is not based on a location, but on a realization. This realization is beyond the mind, it is intuitive and in its overcoming. Sri Aurobindo wrote a lot about fire. Its flame is light, it transforms. Its energy: destructive, giving, universal, mystical and spiritual.
