Real sin

"There is only one real sin, and that is to persuade oneself that the second-best is anything but the second-best."
- Doris Lessing

How to stop missing the mark? Is that what the sin question is about?

Most religious traditions talk about sin as something that people do that goes against certain morals or rules, and is therefore prohibited or considered wrong in society. Some Christians have gone beyond that to refer to sin as a life-long condition or state of mind.

Followers of Christian traditions have for millennia been warned against seven deadly sins, named as extravagance or lust, gluttony, greed, sloth, wrath, envy and pride. To oppose and substitute for these sins, they were reminded to practice seven holy virtues of chastity, temperance, charity, diligence, patience, kindness, and humility.

Some protestant Christians went as far as saying that, due to original sin, humanity had lost any and all capacity to move towards reconciliation with God.

In Islam, religious scholars have over time compiled as many as 70 major sins, which are described as acts rather than states of being. Many other traditions hold similar views of sin, with a focus on the notion of wrongful acts.

In an interesting recent update, the Vatican in 2008 added a warning against what it called seven modern social sins, including environmental pollution, genetic manipulation, obscene wealth, infliction of poverty, drug trafficking, morally debatable experiments, and violation of the fundamental rights of human nature.

As with so many things in life, one can also explore and adopt different perceptions about sin. The prevalent one has been to focus on the quality of the act, and its consequences. You do something wrong, and this is what will happen to you. If you repent, here is how you can atone for the sins you have committed. And, of course it is better to avoid doing wrong in the first place.

There is, however, another perception that is quite opposite, which is to regard sin as missing out on something. Remarkably, the ancient Greeks regarded sin as "missing the mark" or target, like in archery. And the biblical Hebrew word for sin had the same meaning. Their perception was about something that is missed, and how to do a better job of hitting the mark next time, like an archer honing his skills.

Interestingly, some early definitions of the concept of the deadly sin of sloth took a similar perspective when they called it the sin of sadness, of apathy, depression, joylessness, uneasiness of the mind, an absence or insufficiency of love. All these terms refer to a human condition of missing out on what is good.

In Dante's Purgatorio, penitents for sloth had to run continuously to make up for what they had missed in life.

In recent times, the more prominent perception of the sin of sloth has been as a failure or indifference to utilize one's talents and gifts. As Wikipedia puts it, it is more a sin of omission than of commission.

This notion of missing out may be what Doris Lessing referred to when she put the now famous words about sin and second-best in Anna Wulf's mouth, in The Golden Notebook. Her relentless focus was on choosing to do the best.

Commenting that laughter was by definition healthy, Lessing found herself very much on the positive side of human endeavor. "Any human anywhere will blossom in a hundred unexpected talents and capacities simply by being given the opportunity to do so," she said.

While the traditional black-and-white doctrines of sin to mark things to be avoided are still prevalent in today's world, my sense is that more and more people choose to focus on the positive side, to get better at setting and hitting their marks and enjoying a fulfilling life.

No longer held back by popular religion's dire warnings of punishment for sinful wrongdoing in this world or the next, the new notion of sin as "missing the mark" is inspiring me and many others to live "integral" lives and let go off fear and the sin of accepting second-best.

Perhaps that is what the spiritual leaders of ancient times had in mind too.

Photograph: Passage in Topkapi palace, Istanbul.

Way with change

"Change is a law."
- Dan Millman

Life is forever changing. Indeed I can say that life is all about change.

As an introverted soul, I always look forward to recharging my battery in moments of solitude and quiet. And when I sit still in a quiet room, it can seem for a moment as if my world comes to rest, without tiring changes. Then it turns out to be an illusion.

The antics of my own mind continue to create activity, and even late at night I hear a bus driver blaring his horn in frustration of someone else who blocks his way in speeding to the next stop.

It is difficult, if not impossible to be still and resist change.

I know how meditation can help me observe my mind and its endless flow of thoughts, but I also know the mind cannot be shut down. Within its own constraints of repetition and extrapolation, it keeps ever vibrant.

And outside my awareness, millions of cells in my body are regenerating all the time, and my heartbeat and breathing are continuing uninterrupted.

Meanwhile, all around me the earth keeps spinning at a dizzying pace, unseen to anyone but the scientists who monitor such movement.

How can I find moments of peace and freedom of action within such relentless movement and continuous change taking place all around and inside me?

Can I practice having little retreats while continuing to be a participant in this circus of movement and changes called the Universe?

A few weeks ago, I was looking forward to a long journey, expecting that the many hours of travel would offer a good opportunity for a soul retreat. Yet what I experienced was a non-stop sequence of moments and events, some more memorable than others.

Reaching the destination, I discovered that being surrounded by thousands of people for a week-long conference offered even fewer chances for solitude.

With my fellow traveler's ingenuity, we found that the only place for a quiet recharge during the daytime was to sit in the back row of the large auditoriums, like using a cinema to rest rather than seeing the movie.

As I write this, hundreds of people keep passing by the windows of the coffee shop, going from cinemas to shops and vice versa. Each of them living a life, with emotions, challenges, and changes to face. An amazing totality really, this Universe.

Every day, the world offers me new insights, new points of view, new challenges, and new opportunities. I feel immersed in it like in a fast-flowing river.

Hour by hour, day by day, I allow myself to float, to observe the changes, stopping myself from resisting the flow. Choosing to adapt to changes is starting to feel like a game I can play.

So what time do I really have to recharge my battery, to realize what my options are, to how to decide among alternatives, to take action, to enjoy passion, and to deliver results?

Since the past is already behind me, and the future continues to elude me ahead, I find myself enjoying to turn to zero, to the moment where everything is possible, where everything can be done, to the now, to the present moment.

As I reflect, I no longer cling to my mind's thoughts, to time, to anything really. Through my moments of passion and my times of living flatly, I find myself happy most of the time, either with or without a reason. I can smile.

To have more time later today, or tomorrow, to do what I dream of, is an illusion. There is no such thing.

There is only now, and my decision how to use this present moment. To consciously do something that brings me closer to realizing my life dreams.

Or to let myself wander farther off these goals. Or, to simply go with the flow with a sense of wonder, ready to discover something new as I move further along the river.

I can see now what made Dan Millman choose the title for his book The Way of the Peaceful Warrior, which he confidently subtitled saying that it would change lives.

I can live in the present moment with the peaceful heart of a mystic and a warrior's spirit of discipline. Working simultaneously with my logos or reason from the right brain, and with my mythos or intuition from the left brain. Thank you, Dan!

Photograph: Istanbul, witness to millennia of changes.