“To me, this book is sort of like a
snakeskin. A snakeskin is something you might find on the side of the road and
make something out of—a belt, say, or a hatband. The snake itself heads off
doing more snake stuff—getting it on with lady snakes, eating rats, making more
snakeskins, et cetera.”
“It
reminds me of the story my clown mentor, YooWho, told me ...” Honestly, any
book that contains a serious line that begins this way has to at least be
entertaining, right?
That
was certainly the case with “The Dude and the Zen Master,” a book by Jeff
Bridges and Bernie Glassman. As you may have guessed, the piece touched on how
some aspects of the Zen philosophy are reflected in “The Big Lebowski.”
Dedicated
to “all the hungry spirits,” this piece was both touching and emotional in
parts. It was a pretty quick read, aided by the fact that the book was
formatted as a back-and-forth conversation between two friends.
Glassman’s
assertion is that the Dude is a Zen Master, though very little time is actually
spent exploring that claim. Instead, the duo touch on the idea that the “other
shore,” or destination in life, is actually right underneath our feet; the idea
of rebirthing, and whether children truly represent your mortality or your
immortality; discussion of the 36 “righteous people” (Lamed-Vav Tzaddikim) that
were depicted in the tremendous underrated and tragically cancelled TV show “Touch”;
and why we increasingly rely hide behind technical lingo and confusing speak (“The truth is always encountered but rarely
perceived.”), among other
interesting topics.
I’ve
read a couple of books lately that have leaned heavily on the concept of
jettisoning those things that bring stress into your life. I think Glassman
captured this approach pretty well in these passages:
“I tell people that when stuff comes up and
at a certain point it feels like it’s too much, move on. It’s not going
anywhere and there’ll be a time when you’ll be ready to work with it. For now,
listen to yourself. If it’s not the time, don’t push it. Gently down the
stream. Some people say you have to work
with everything, but there’s a time and place. If it feels like a knot, wait.
It will come up again when you and the universe are ready.”
“Be here in this moment. Don’t torture
yourself with all the shit that has to be accomplished. Where are you right
now?”
“Robert Johnson wrote that the word happiness comes from to happen. Our happiness is what happens.”
Somewhat
surprisingly, Bridges offered up about an apt a description of the Tea Party
movement as any I’ve seen:
“Even when people see the value of
something, the desire to keep their identity as a conservative, a liberal, or
anything else can be stronger than their sense of interconnectedness—even if it
means that kids go hungry. How can I work with a liberal, even if we have
the same goals? It makes no sense, but
the differences can take over. That’s what we fight wars about.”
Also
on “The Big Lebowski” bent, there was a rather intriguing theory posed about
the plot of the flick:
“You know what a Lebowski fan told me once? He thought that Donny was
a figment of Walter’s imagination, an old army buddy of his who may have been
killed in Vietnam. And the Dude was going along with the fantasy, participating
in the three-way conversation even though he knew Donny didn’t exist ... Either
way, it says a lot about the Dude; he can just go with the flow.”
And
throughout, both Bridges and Glassman harped on the idea of embracing the
inevitability of change:
“Hey, I’m going to die, so let’s live! The
things I’m surrounded by are going to change and disappear, so let me enjoy
their beauty as they are right now.”
“Heraclitus, a Greek philosopher who
preceded Aristotle, was the guy who said that you could never step in the same
river twice, because the river’s always changing. And I’m always changing, too;
I’m not the person I was a minute ago.”
I
found “The Dude and the Zen Master” to be a thought-provoking read, despite
being a very surface-level riff on some rather profound approaches to life in general. If you’re
looking for a “Big Lebowski” lovefest wrapped in a New Age-y burrito, look
elsewhere; but if you’re seeking a subtly disguised self-help book with a
coupla laughs thrown in, you’ve found it.
I’m not one to cuss and pout
