david zasloff: Writings

The Art of Nothing

The art of nothing is a state of being which occurs during meditation. To attain this state I sit in any comfortable position, any posture that allows me to rest my body to a point where I don’t feel my body so I don’t have to think about my body. This is not yoga. I don’t try to force, bend or fold my body into some awkward physical position. I just wanna be able to sit with the possibility of not thinking about my body. Once I’m comfortable, I pay attention to the air going in and out of my body. This is peaceful. As I pay attention to my breathing, I notice my mind starts thinking of things other than my breathing. My mind is trying to distract me (“Me” being separate from my mind) from my being one with my body. My mind wants to worry and judge. These are the two primary activities of my mind, judging and worrying. I, “me”, whoever I am, wants my mind to not judge or worry. So I try to refocus all my thinking on air going in and out of my body. To help me focus on my breathing, as air goes in my body, in my mind I silently say the word “inhale” As air leaves my body I silently say, “exhale” If I don’t focus on correct breathing, I will breathe incorrectly. Physically, inhaling correctly means, as I inhale my stomach moves outward. While exhaling, my stomach is going in. This is what the body does naturally without thinking. This is peaceful. But then suddenly my mind starts judging again. Only this time my mind is judging my breathing. I can’t believe it! My mind is judging the essence of my existence! My mind says things to me like, ‘That breath was too big.” Or, “That breath was too short.” Or, “That breath was not good enough.” Judgmental thoughts make me nervous. It’s impossible to relax when I’m nervous. That’s not good. See!! There’s another judgment! My mind is so quick and clever to judge me.

I want my mind to be free of all judgment. I can free my mind of judgments by taking a deep breath. But taking a deep breath while my body is totally relaxed doesn’t make sense because, when totally relaxed, my body does not need me to take deep breaths, except to stop my mind from interfering with the natural process of breathing.

During meditation all breathing is through my nose. My mouth is never open and my eyes are closed at least when I begin to meditate because I do not want to see anything that will distract me from focusing my mind on my breathing. The goal is to loose all thinking about breathing, to have absolutely no thoughts on my mind and to not control my breathing. I want to get my breathing into a state that reflects what my body does to stay alive all on it’s own without any interference from my mind. This is how my body breathes simply because my body is a product of evolution. This is my body, alive, breathing and not thinking.”

Even when I reach this state of deep relaxation my mind still judges my breathing by saying, “You’re breathing wrong. You’re breathing too much. You forced that exhale! You’re trying to breathe more than what your body needs. You’re forcing your breathing because you don’t feel you’re good enough.” The truth is, during meditation, there is nothing to prove, no one to please, and nothing to do. This is the art of nothing.

So I’ve learned my brain loves to judge but by now, because I’ve taken a few breaths without judging, I’ve noticed when I don’t judge my breathing, when I let air go in and out of my body as it will, simply because I am alive, I feel better. There are no thoughts in my mind and my mind is peaceful. This is bliss. Then I realize my brain could feel this way all day as long as I don’t move from my meditative position. Because if I move just a little, even a little twitch, I, my mind, will start judging. But for those few breaths where I didn’t move and focused on air going in and out of my body, I created a space where there are no thoughts, no judgments, there is only breathing. There is nothing.

In this mindless space I see I am given who I am without judgment. Whoever I am is the gift of life. Nothing more. Nothing less. And that I have the opportunity to express who I am or not. I see I am totally unique but I will never be free until I am who I am without judgment. I can choose to deny who I am. But then I have to accept the consequences of not being who I am, which creates pain. In this mindless state of nothingness, I see to create a stable sense of peace for myself I have to take the gifts I’ve been given and use them to create a safe place for myself by being totally myself. By being myself I will receive everything I need. This is the essence of faith. By having faith in the gifts I’ve been given, I will be taken care of. This is why I have to be honest about who I am.

Also, while in this peaceful place of nothing, watching my body breathe, periodically judging my breathing as being good or bad, then not judging my breathing, I can’t help wonder who, what part of my mind, is doing the judging? What part of me is watching me? It is not just me watching myself breathe and judging me. There is another “Me” watching me judging myself. I wonder who’s watching who’s watching me.

Then I think, whoever is watching me watch myself better watch out. I’m onto myself. I see that whoever is watching me watch myself doesn’t matter because it’s enough of an achievement to enter a space in my mind where there is no judgment. To live without judgment is a miracle even if it’s only for a few breaths. Once that thought ends I start wondering, “Where is my mind? Is my mind in my head? Where do thoughts come from? Just because I think my thoughts are in my head doesn’t mean they’re in my head. Is my mind somewhere outside my head?” I know my mind is connected to all other minds. I know right now somewhere in the world someone else is thinking these exact same thoughts. Probably more than one person is thinking the same thoughts I’m writing right now. The thoughts you are reading right now are being thought by several people all over the world at the same time. Who ever is thinking these same thoughts is connected to the same thought source we’re all connected to. Somewhere outside my head, my mind is connected to all other minds. So my mind is not in my head. My mind is outside my head. My mind picks up thoughts that are free floating in space. It just seems like my mind is in my head because that’s where some of my thoughts seem to come from.

I think some thoughts come from the collective unconscious or collective conscious depending upon how aware you are of your thoughts and how easy it is for you to access them and some thoughts are rooted in my mind. Thoughts rooted in my mind are thoughts I was taught to think, thoughts that have nothing to do with who I am. They are thoughts other people had which they thought were good for me but not necessarily.

When I try to apply other peoples thoughts to my life they often don’t fit who I am and in trying to make them fit in my life these thoughts give me a headache. So I have to get rid of these thoughts.

New thoughts, intuitive thoughts, revelations, creative thoughts, that reflect who I am, thoughts which are good for me come from somewhere outside myself. If I act on these thoughts I become the physical manifestation of them. I become my intuition. These are thoughts that come to me when I stop judging my breathing and can only be found by practicing the art of nothing.

Jogging In Burbank

I just moved to a nice house in Burbank. Never knew Burbank was so peaceful. I like peace, it’s quiet. One day I looked at the mountains East of Burbank and saw lots of trails going to the top and I thought, “Hey, great place to jog.” The next day I drove to the bottom of the mountain and found a trail. At the beginning of the trail there was a sign with a picture of a mountain lion and the words read something like, “Watch out, there are lions in the hills. They’re rare but they’re there. Don’t hike alone. They don’t often attack people. They’re a natural part of the ecosystem and they are predators.” In other words the sign said, “If you get attacked by a lion there’s no one you can sue. If you get chewed up, eaten or even scratched by a mountain lion, we told you so. Good luck. Have a nice hike. If you die it’s not our fault. You been warned.”

Then I remembered I’d heard of people been attacked, bitten, ripped open, killed and eaten by mountain lions while jogging in California. But I couldn’t remember if this was the mountain where it happened. Didn’t matter, the sign had already done it’s damage. I couldn’t get mountain lions off my mind. I walked about twenty feet when I met a woman coming down by herself. As we passed each other I said hello and jokingly asked, “Seen any mountain lions?” She said, “No.” Then she opened her hand and handed me two rocks she was carrying to use as noise makers to let the lions know she was there. She did not want to surprise a lion for surely then they would attack her, rip her open and eat her. She said, “Here, you can have my stones.” I took them. She was serious. As she went downhill to safety, I went uphill into danger thinking, “She’s got guts. If she can do it I can do it.” There I was hiking alone, like the sign said don’t do, banging the stones hard enough to make them crumble. Then I had to bend over and pick up new stones when I remembered reading mountain lions attack best when their prey is leaning over making them more vulnerable than when standing. So I picked up stones real fast. Every step I took I was looking for lions. I looked behind every bush. I was constantly scanning the hillside for movement of any type. The whole trip my mind was on lions. I was so obsessed with lions I got worried I could manifest a lion. I could make a lion appear when there really wasn’t one there. Every now and then I’d turn around fast to see if a lion was hunting me. I’ve heard lions attack from behind and make very little noise. So I kept turning around to show the lion I knew what he was up to. I was ready with my rocks. I was prepared. I was gonna throw rocks at him. Wasn’t he gonna be surprised when the animal he was attacking, the animal he thought was easy prey was fighting back. I wasn’t gonna be no easy meal. I thought about his claws, and how sharp they were, how it would hurt when he ripped my skin. The lion is wild. When he fights he has no fear, no reservations, My death was his life. I better be ready for that kind of struggle. He wasn’t gonna hold back anything, or wait until tomorrow to see how things work out. He was hungry now.

I kept on hiking higher and higher, further away from the parking lot. The further away I was I knew it was gonna be harder for people to hear my screams, my yelling for help. At some point I realized I’d gone beyond the point of no return. There I was, by myself. Me and the lion. I couldn’t expect any help. Whatever happens, happens. That’s it. After a long hike I got to the top of the mountain thinking, “I made it. No lion yet.” But I still had to go downhill. For some reason I didn’t think my chances of being attacked while going downhill, out of his territory, were as great as getting attacked while going uphill into his territory. I don’t know where that logic came from. As if the lion cared where he ate me.

On the way down I was thinking, “I’d like to do this hike again.
But I run the risk of being attacked, this is lion country, the government made it clear they’re not liable. What can I do? So I said, “o.k. the next time I go jogging in Burbank I’m bringing a gun. Just to even the odds. I don’t wanna kill no mountain lion. I love cats. Mountain lions are rare. But if it’s a choice between my life or his, I’m living. Maybe I can wave the gun at him, scare him away, shoot the gun in the air, frighten him off. I’d feel safer with a gun than I did banging stones together.”

I got to the end of the trail, obviously nothing happened. Never saw a lion, never even heard a noise in the brush. Walking to my car in the parking lot I said, “Look at me, I did it. I didn’t get eaten today.” I felt like a tough guy. I was proud of myself. And welcome to Burbank.

Running From Myself

I was running from myself which is hard to do because I was standing right there. It’s impossible to run from yourself and keep up with yourself at the same time. Someone’s gonna loose. Besides it makes you feel besides yourself. Nothing worse than standing besides yourself. Especially when you don’t know who you are. When you don’t know you who are and you’re standing besides yourself you can’t even tell it’s you and then there’s two of you who don’t know who you are. You and the someone like you standing besides you. You look at each other as if you’re supposed to know each other. You feel like you know each other. Like some distant, long lost cousin. You have the same nose. But you can’t place the face. You both feel confused. So you go for a cup of coffee. And when the waitress asks what you want. You say two cups of coffee. She sees just one of you. She doesn’t know you’re beside yourself. She just thinks you’re crazy. And you are. But she gives you the two cups of coffee because she doesn’t wanna get involved. You might be dangerous. And if you are dangerous then the one right besides you is dangerous too. She doesn’t need double trouble. Besides, she doesn’t know it yet, but she’s standing besides herself. Intuitively she knows what’s wrong with you could happen to her and in fact it is happening to her, she just doesn’t wanna deal with it. She doesn’t hate her rotten job but the person standing beside her does. She hasn’t seen the other side of herself yet. When she does, she’s in for a shock. Pretty soon she’ll be ordering two cups of coffee too. And some other waitress will be thinking the same thoughts about her as she’s thinking about you. Forget Vietnam, this is the real meaning of the domino effect. It’s a diseased perception that can be cured. One way to heal it is to sit still. Then everybody standing beside you including whoever you think you might be, will become one and there’ll be no place to run.

The Birth And Death Of A Joke

I’ve been doing comedy for 25 years. My first attempts at being funny didn’t work because I was always stoned. I had funny thoughts I thought would make people laugh, but because I was always stoned I didn’t spend any time trying to figure out how to communicate them. I knew I loved being onstage. I did everything I could to get there, but once I got there, I had nothing to say.

One night I was onstage loaded on cocaine. My brain was exploding with anxiety, made the whole scene way more dramatic than it was. I looked at the audience, there wasn’t many of’em, but it didn’t matter. What mattered was, I was onstage. I looked and acted like a comic, but had no jokes. I looked at the audience again and realized that they were expecting me to make them laugh. I thought that was funny, so funny it made me laugh. I couldn’t believe they were waiting for me to make them laugh. How ordinary of them. I started laughing harder. As soon as I heard myself laughing, I realized I was in a funny situation. Being aware the situation was funny made the situation funnier. I started laughing harder. The audience had no idea why I was laughing. It didn’t matter. They could tell my laughter was genuine and genuine laughter is contagious, so they started laughing. Which made me laugh even harder. Pretty soon the whole room was cracking up, people laughing at each other laughing. I don’t know what they were laughing at, but I was laughing at the fact that they thought I was supposed to make them laugh. Which is, without knowing it, exactly what I did. I just did it in a way no one, not even me expected. It was one of the funniest nights of my comedy life.

Another night, at the beginning of my career when I had no jokes, just as I was about to go onstage, a great comedic concept popped into my brain. I was gonna get onstage, act like a monkey in a hotel lobby, standing in front of a vending machine with a coin, trying to buy a candy bar. I thought imitating an ape in a hotel lobby would remind people we’re all just animals in drag. Truth is, no matter how sophisticated we appear, and no matter what the church says, we’re monkeys. When we deny our animal needs we suffer, and suffering makes for great comedy. I think as monkeys we do some pretty incredible things. As people I’m not very impressed. But as monkeys we’re fantastically advanced.

So without saying a word, I went onstage, faced the audience and imagined that a vending machine was between me and them, so that they were facing the back of the vending machine. Of course they couldn’t see a vending machine because I never told’em it was there. I thought for sure they’d figure it out. I started jumping up and down like a happy chimpanzee. I let my arms swing the way monkeys do. I walked around the stage like a caged gorilla. I made gorilla faces and acted like King Kong. I thought they’d get my ape impression right away and laugh at the similarities between monkeys and people. I could hear no one was laughing. I could see they looked confused. I think they got the ape impression, but they missed the concept. Some people in the audience stopped trying to figure out what I was doing and started ignoring me. I freaked out. Pretty soon the whole room ignored me. After a few minutes of unbearable rejection, I tried to figure a way to get off stage without being noticed. When I ended my act there wasn’t even a polite applause. Not one hand clapping. No recognition that I was even there, which is worse than being there. As I got offstage, I saw other comics in the back of the room waiting to go on. I knew all of them. Not one of them came over, as is customary when you get offstage, to shake my hand, fearing the audience might see them shaking my hand and think that if they knew me, then they must not be funny. No one even said to me, “you sucked.” That’s called bombing. Comedy is not as easy as it looks.

Women’s Prison Gig

A friend called and said, “You want a gig?” I said, “Yeah” She says, “It’s a woman’s prison.” I said, “O.K.” She says “Pays $175.00” I said, “Terrific.” That’s was $150.00 more than I usually made. I was happy. There were three comics in the show.

Then I started thinking, “What am I gonna say to 300 female inmates? These women robbed banks and killed their boyfriends. So whatever I say has to be bigger than murder.”

The more I thought about the gig the more doubt started creeping in. I can’t relate to these women. I have no idea what it’s like to be in prison. I’ve never been in prison. I don’t know any women who’ve been in prison. I knew some women who should’ve been in prison. I dated them.

Plus I was told my act had to be clean, no cursing. How do you talk to a prisoner without saying “Fuck.” Prisoners say “Fuck” all the time. They’re gonna expect me to say “Fuck. If I don’t say “Fuck” they’re gonna think I’m weak. Fuck!

A few weeks before the gig I had to submit my name, social security number, birth date and drivers license number to the prison system so they could check to see if I was a criminal. If I was on a wanted list then I couldn’t get into the prison. My record was clean so a week later I got clearance to get into prison.

We were told we couldn’t wear jeans in prison because inmates wear denim and if there’s a riot the guards might not be able to tell the difference between a comic and a prisoner. A comic mistaken for a prisoner would have a hard time getting out. O.K. I’m wearing slacks.

The day of the gig we get to the prison, and we had to wait. We’re not told why. Prisons exist in their own time zone. You do things according to the warden’s watch. Part of the waiting was because they had to check and make sure they checked to make sure we weren’t criminals.

After two hours they let us in. I hear the clang of the iron doors. Boy those doors, when they close, make a loud noise. As soon as I walked into the prison it felt cold. The prison is all concrete and steel. Nothing frivolous like a plant. No sign of life. No art. It’s built so when it needs to be cleaned you just hose it down. There’s nothing to ruin. It’s a zoo for people.

We’re escorted to the prison auditorium. A big room with nothing in it. I go backstage and find myself in a small room with one of the prisoners who’s helping run the show. After an awkward few moments with a female con we started talking. She tells me she was convicted for killing her boyfriend. She tells me she didn’t do it. I believe her. She seems nice. I feel sorry for her stuck in prison for life for something she didn’t do. Afterwards I tell the guard I didn’t think she killed her boyfriend because she told me she didn’t. The guard tells me they all say they didn’t do it. I never thought of that. I still think she didn’t do it and the guard is a cynic. I could tell from the tone in her voice she was innocent and if I was the judge she’d be free.

From backstage I hear the prisoners coming into the auditorium. It’s almost show time. I’m still wondering what the fuck I’m gonna say. One thing I know I’m not saying is “Fuck.” Then I hear the host of the show introduce me. I start walking to the stage. As soon as I step out from behind the curtain and the prisoners see me, they start whistling. They haven’t seen a guy in a while. When I get to the microphone, they’re still whistling. A room full of three hundred woman all wearing the same clothes, which looks odd, and they’re all whistling which makes a loud noise. They’re whistling so much there’s no chance for me to say anything. They’re having fun. And there’s nothing I can say to stop’em from whistling. So I just look at’em. I see a few women I’d love to date. After ten minutes of whistling I figure the best thing for me to do is whistle back. So I whistle at’em. Which makes them whistle louder. Pretty soon I got a whistling conversation going on with 300 inmates. I start making gestures with my arms to go along with my whistling. Simple whistling talking stuff. Like, “How are you? How you been?” They whistle/gesture back. I don’t know what we’re saying but we’re all laughing. By now I only have a minute left of stage time and I haven’t said a word. Whatever I’d thought of saying never happened. The emcee gives me the signal my time is up. Before getting offstage I felt like I had to say something. The first thing that popped out of my mouth was, “Wish I could spend the night.” As soon as they heard that, the whistling got louder. A few of’em yelled out suggestions as to where I could sleep. I walked offstage to the loudest whistling applause I ever got. Was a great show. They were sweet people.

Credit Cards

I don’t use credit cards. They’re evil. I’ll tell you why. Let's say you buy something on your credit card, and you spend $300.00. Now you owe the bank $300.00. But when you think about it, this $300.00 is money nobody ever had. You didn’t have the money. The bank didn’t have the money. Nobody had the money. But then the bank takes the money nobody ever had, and calls it an "asset". Now it’s an asset, the bank can charge you interest on money nobody ever had. Then the bank takes the money nobody ever had and loans it to Mexico. Now Mexico has the money you never had. Well they don't have it either. But both you and Mexico are paying the bank interest on money nobody ever had. So the bank is making a lot of money off money nobody ever had. The only person with money is the guy who had the idea to give you money he didn't have. He’s livin' in a big house which he built with money nobody ever had. Eventually, you keep spending money nobody ever had, you go bankrupt. But once you go bankrupt, you only have to pay back part of the money nobody ever had. As soon as you pay back part of the money nobody ever had, the bank will give you more money nobody ever had. Because they want money you don't have.

Right now the amount of money nobody ever had is enormous. I’d bet all the money I don't have, there isn't enough printed money in the whole world to cover all the money nobody ever had.

Most of my money is money people have. That’s why I’m so broke. I’m trying to make more money people don't have. That’s where the big bucks are.

So if you buy my book, please, use your credit card. I’m trying to make more money people don’t have.

Some Atheists

Some atheists, if you ask’em what they believe in, they’ll say, “nothing.” My response is, belief in nothing is something. And if you believe in something, then you gotta believe in God because God is everything and something, like nothing, is part of everything.

I can hear some atheists getting pissed off thinking, just because I believe in nothing doesn’t mean I believe in God. Like I said, if you believe at all, even if you believe in nothing, you believe in something. The act of believing, since God is everything, makes you believe in God. You might not wanna believe it but believe me, you believe. But some atheists don’t accept the premise that God is everything. They claim they believe in nothing. But I just proved nothing is something. O.K. So how do you make the leap in faith that belief in nothing is belief in God. Alright, once again, from the beginning, the logic is, belief in nothing is something, and belief in something = belief in God. Then the atheist says, “no, nothing is nothing.” Which is impossible because nothing is something. As long as you have something, then something exists. As long as you have existence, you have life. If you have life, you have life forms. If you have life forms then you have a power greater than you. You did not make the other life forms. You can’t create yourself. As long as you have a power greater than you, then you have God. It doesn’t matter what you call the power greater than you. Call it love, call it nature, call it God, call it whatever. No one can believe they are greater than the power that created them. How do atheists think they got here? By themselves? Some atheists are confused megalomaniacs. If you still don’t believe then remember, “the only things you don’t understand, are things you haven’t figured out yet.”