I read "Dharma Bums," by Jack Kerouac

It's hard to believe that this book was assigned to me as a freshman in a Jesuit university - an 18-yr old sheltered catholic girl, straight out of all-girls catholic nun-style high school, not knowing the first thing about beatnicks, poems, buddhism, hippie-freedom, california culture, pot-smoking or sex and not ready to investigate these either. I was only just discovering what male humans looked like and talked about and that's all I wanted to put my attention into. Now I've read some about tibetan-style buddhism so thought this book - which made a big poetic impact about this guy who wandered the country by thumb and traincar in the 1950s with his backpack, beans and notebook living a simple life - would resonate.

Ray Smith (autobiographical of the author) is our wanderer trying to co-lead the rucksack revolution with his mentor/idol Japhy Ryder (who in real life was modeled after poet Gary Snyder). We follow Ray during his joyful do-nothing year relying on his wits, fearlessness and friends to do a year traveling, visiting, partying and meditation. He is happy to sit and pray for the world; "something good will come of it."

Japhy gets on his case for not doing much besides sitting and poems while Japhy chops wood, works and reads Zen buddhist texts. He is an old bikkhu who loves haikus, satoris, the mountains and "hoos!"; he plans a trip to Japan. He tells Ray what it's all about. I loved that Japhy practiced charity all the time and I loved how it charmed Ray: "There was nothing glittery about it but almost sad and sometimes his gifts were old beat up things but they had the charm of usefulness and sadness of his giving."

The rucksack revolution that they both wanted was described by Japhy: "refusing to subscribe to the general demand that they consume production and therefore have to work for the privelege of consuming all that crap they didn't really want anyway such as refrigerators, TVs, cars, certain hair oils, and general junk you finally always see in the garbage a week later anyway, all of them imprisoned in a system of work, produce, consume, work, produce, consume. I see a vision of a great rucksack revolution with people going to the mountains to pray, making children laugh and old men glad, making young girls happy and older ones happier, all of 'em Zen lunatics who go around writing poems..." They had a fantasy of West meets East, with guys hitchhiking and tramping around the mountains praying and writing poems.

Kerouac talks about food alot, albeit simple food: beans, soup, food supplies, food storage, dinner, lunch, Hershey bars...

Ray had a breakthrough in his mother's back woods in North Carolina. He became empty and awake and saw no difference between himself or anything else; became a buddha. He felt the same as the trees, he felt blank, he became "Bikkhu Blank Rat." He experienced transendental visits without drugs - Samapatti. His life was a "glowing empty page and I could do whatever I wanted."

And that he did. He went back to Japhy's place in California (I saw the very tracks on the beautifuul coast south of Sta Barbara a few months ago), and they partied, got drunk, naked, and had sex in what they called the yabyum ceremony. Ray's justification for what seemed like Samsara stuff to me was that "the dharma can't be lost; nothing can be lost on a well-worn path." Interesting justification.

In a final scene, Japhy gets on his boat to Japan, makes love to his favorite girl and literally throws her from the boat to the pier as the boat pulls away so he can get on with his business of the Dharma. Is he finally seeing the partying as samsara chatter distraction?

Ray went to the Cascades to be a fire lookout, following Japhy's advice as usual. He got to be completely solitary on a mountain. And very happy claiming he learned all up on that Desolation peak, falling in love with God, and fearing his return to people and cities.

Jack Kornfield's "After the Ecstasy, the Laundry" would be a good book for Japhy and Kerouac to read. It discusses living a compassionate, loving-kindness, buddhist meditation, present mindful life with busy job, family, account numbers, jealous defensive people, rules and forms. Can someone maintain a Kerouac-style bikkhu-ness in 2009 in a literal way? Maybe outside the USA or in some parts of Montana, South Dakota where thin populations may engender some sympathy for a lone person on a rural highway. One can certainly adopt some of the rucksack philosophy to eat and live simply, having just the food needed for the next few days; figuring out stuff for ourselves or with our neighbors; having just the furnishings needed for sitting/staying, cooking, sleeping; and for sharing the used reusables given with attention to the potential to reduce further consumption.