Shopping for faith and marketing "plug and play" religion

You may know someone (or be someone) who has trouble picking from an abundance of choices for spiritual practices in a multicultural society. Believe me I can sympathize. Part of the problem is the apparent cost of investment. Hence in a marketplace of ideas, simply telling people that you have the only valid path isn't going work. People want to see evidence - they want some kind of results. The more adept advocates of various schools and denominations realize this and frame their argument in terms of what someone can do without making a large investment up front. To use a contemporary analogy, it is a plug and play appeal. It just fits and works with your life's current configuration with minimal disruption.

But is that really a fair way to represent or "market" such traditions to seekers? Is there any reason to give such options a chance?

If the practice in question is supposed to provide fairly immediate consolations or else some kind of recognizable benefit, then it can seem as simple as "the proof is in the pudding". The more evangelical sects and denominations are the ones who seem to go for this approach - if you say a particular set of prayers for many days (such as certain novenas found in Catholicism) or if you faithfully and regularly recite a mantra or dharini (such as the title of the Lotus Sutra which is revered in Nichiren Buddhism), you are supposed to see real results*. Once this happens, one can then get additional "plug-ins", some necessary for further development in that religion, others optional, as explicitly discussed in this article. You make these larger investments after you have already found a reason to think that what you are buying into is valid.

A danger is that without a grounding in the insight behind these practices, and the framework in which they are presumed to operate, the presentation of such practices with assured outcomes is reduced to a superstition (an incomplete or misguided attribution of causality) or a form of magic (a ritualistic behavior rooted in superstition). Some will be turned off by this kind of thing right away, and others will be disappointed if and when they do not receive the results they were expecting. This doesn't in an of itself mean that the tradition is invalid or that the practice has no merit, but after all, the "test trial" was presented either overtly or implicitly as proof of worth.

The more sensible approach when finding such a practice and rather than being looking for the presence of roses or the acquisition of a new job as the barometer of validity, see how your life has or hasn't changed. How do you see the world and relate to it? How do others relate to you? Do you have a better attitude? Are you better able to discern and appreciate what is important in your life? These and similar questions are a far more reliable benchmark of whether a particular tradition or practice is "right for you", and often the key here is seriousness of intent and a related commitment for significant portion of time. If you think everything in your life should become easier and safer because of your practice, or if you ultimately believe that your practice (and its constellation effects) lies outside of the details of your daily life, odds are that you are going to go away disappointed no matter what. Focus, resolve, and persevere!

Hitting a spiritual stumbling block - lack of commitment

Have you ever had trouble picking from various options? Have you ever started to go with once choice, then switched back to another? And back again? If you have then you know how much of a problem persistent indecision can be. Even the act of making a choice that you later decide was incorrect can be used constructively. As Thomas Edison noted, "I have not failed, I've just found 1,000 ways that won't work." But fear of failure, fear of humiliation, or a hypercritical reluctance to commitment (which need not be mutually exclusive) can lead us to be spiritual dabblers flitting from path to path. There is always more information that needs to be gathered, more assessment that needs to be made, more of whatever can keep us near but not too close to the gravitational pull of any one choice. We don't want to waste our time and energy on something we may end up ditching, and we can always find some problem or inconsistency or inconvenience to use as a escape hatch even if we do occasionally allow ourselves contact or involvement with a particular religious group or tradition.

Yet there are some things we can consider to help us get over these hang-ups.

Every second brings you closer to the inevitable conclusion of your life.

There is nothing like urgency for sparking motivation. In you want to live well, various natural philosophies, spiritual paths and sacred traditions concur that first you must be reconciled to death. To the fact that death is simply a part of life, not its antithesis. Many traditions also point out that we never really know who we are, let alone what we really want from life, because we are so wrapped up in identifying with our social roles, our possessions, etc. Ask someone who has been abandoned by everyone, or who lost all their material goods, or who was right on death's door after a long illness. I bet they will tell you that in some sense they felt like they had lost a "part" of themselves, that there were scary moments when they didn't really know who they were. If you never devote time to seriously asking who you are and what your life (and by extension death) really means, then your identity is a house of cards waiting to collapse in panic and despair when tragedy strikes or when the hour of your death approaches. Even many (but not nearly all and not nearly enough) who consider themselves strictly irreligious and non-spiritual have recognized the seriousness of this task (which at times can lead to a reconsideration of spirituality, but that is another topic). If, as Socrates proclaimed, "The unexamined life is not worth living", then you need to ask yourself: What kind of life am I living? Does it include what really matters? Is there something in a spiritual path or religion that can help me to focus on these things? To aid me in my development in a way that will offer a richer and fuller sharing and experience of these things (for example family, friendship, peace, understanding, etc)?

Are you really interested in a life of greater depth or do you simply find some aspects of certain sacred traditions aesthetically appealing?

If you aren't really interested in a life of greater depth, or if you have not even a serious hunch that any spiritual path would have anything at all to offer in that regard, then the obvious question is why you are even flirting with religion or spirituality anyway? Maybe it is residual guilt from a previous religious indoctrination, or maybe a particular tradition seems kind of trendy - possibly "alternative", "retro", or "rebel" - a way to stand out and associate yourself with imagery that you think is cool or that makes you look smart or profound. Or maybe the loose association is an act of defiance (Hey mom and dad, I won't be going to our conservative white evangelical church anymore when I visit from college, I'm a Muslim!). Have you really considered that possibility? Quoting Clark Strand from a 2007 issue of Tricycle magazine where he is contemplating the thought-process of someone looking for a loose affiliation: "Well, if I had to be something, I guess I'd be a Buddhist." That's not to say (in my reading of it) that this is the literal thought that enters someone's head, but rather it is more like a gut reaction. There is nothing wrong with that instinct, and it could lead somewhere fruitful if followed upon, but for someone interested more in image over substance that may be about as far as things go. So Buddhism, or Christianity, or Wicca may suit your tastes, but you are only really looking for a sip or quick bite, maybe a new spice, but not a new way of cooking and dining. Well, bon appetite, but recognize your interest for what it is (and isn't) and allow yourself to enjoy it.

If you are looking for Mr/Ms Right you will be looking forever.

One major secret to any major personal commitment is that perfection is not only impossible, it isn't all its cracked up to be. Here are some basic tips for a long and productive relationship that can be applied to spiritual paths as well as partners and spouses:

• Things change. People certainly do, and sometimes religions do to. These changes can affect the whole system, like the Reformation, or it can be more localized, such as a change in the music selection at your local parish or the retirement of your favorite priest or rabbi. You are going to change as well. If you expect things to stay the same, or worse, attempt to keep things from changing, or keep trying to recapture some past situation, such as the honeymoon phase of a new romantic relationship or the rapture of recent conversion, you are asking for things to fail, or at the very least, you are looking to bring a font of constant frustration and disappointment down on yourself.
  
• You are signing up for the whole package - change and problems included. In a committed relationship, if your criteria for success if that you and your spouse or partner must continually make each other happy, we can all start the break-up pool about how long your relationship is going to last. Did you ever notice how Western wedding vows traditionally have that part about "for better or worse, in good times and bad, in sickness and in health"? Obviously if you are in an abusive or co-dependent relationship where you are suffering harm, you should end it. But how often do we break up with person (or a church) because of some rough patches? A realistic (and yet oddly romantic) way of thinking about such commitments is this: "I know you are going to change, and I will too. I don't know what the future holds, but I want us to find out together. I want to see how your life turns out and share mine with you. I realize we may grow closer or apart at different stages of our lives, but I want to make this journey with you." Now, it takes a little tweaking but the relevant idea for sacred traditions is still there. Of course there are bound to be risks and disappointments, but who do you want to face them with?
  
• You are a part of every problem and every solution. In other words, either passively or actively, in a committed relationship you have influence and therefore responsibility for what happens in that relationship. Being passive-aggressive or an enabler is still making a contribution to "his" or "her" problems. Passing all of the blame on to the other party is neither fair nor productive.
  
• What about what the positive stuff? As the authors of the book The Buddha In Your Mirror as well as therapists and counselors have noticed, it is really easy to focus on the 10%, 15%, or 20% of what we don't like in our spouses or partners rather than the 80%, 85%, or 90% we appreciate! If only we could, you know, fix that small part we don't like. So we focus, and complain, and nag instead - using negative reinforcement, rather than trying to cultivate and expand on the positive qualities. Again, if you find the 10-20% to be irredeemable or dangerous, or if it's more like 60-80% you really dislike, then it's time to bail. But how often is that really the case when we boil it down to serious things and not superficial or petty concerns?
  

The idea is that we generate productive and useful relationships as much by our attitude and our determination as much as by finding the "best possible fit", especially since that is a moving target as we grow and change. When it comes specifically to spirituality and religion, a couple of quotes shared by the blog Dharmakara's Prayer (here and here) drive such points home and so I will conclude with them:

To embrace a faith that fits us comfortably is a poor way of accepting religion; more than that, it is in a real sense a wrong and pernicious way, for it reverses the true order of things, placing the people who are to be re-formed into the position of the Truth that is to re-form them. It is an impiety that transposes creature and Creator. Faith must be a continuing challenge to which we respond, a discipline to which we must submit, not a feather bed to protect us against the sharp edge of living.

Edgar B. Castle, 1961

In true community we will not choose our companions, for our choices are so often limited by self-serving motives. Instead our companions will be given to us by grace. Often they will be persons who will upset our settled view of self and world. In fact, we might define true community as that place where the person you least want to live with lives!…

Community reminds us that we are called to love, for community can break our egos open to the experience of a God who cannot be contained by our conceptions. Community will teach us that our grip on truth is fragile and incomplete, that we need many ears to hear the fullness of God’s word for our lives. And the disappointments of community life can be transformed by our discovery that the only dependable power for life lies beyond all human structures and relationships.

Parker J. Palmer, 1977


Plain Living: A Quaker Path to Simplicity by Catherine Whitmire

[While the quotes are Quaker and hence reference God, the larger points are still relevant in virtually every sacred tradition.]

Single-pointed focus and the heart

I ran across something this week that gave me a pause. I have heard dharma talks and read books by Buddhist monks and lay practitioners about methods for achieving and maintaining single-pointed focus. I have also heard/read contemplatives in other traditions talking about attaining and keeping such focus. There has been a lot about emptiness, form, potential, actual, mind/self, no-mind/no-self, and all of the usual stuff. I am not suggesting that such advice or description of experiences are bogus. However, for the first time the other day someone connected the idea of such a single-pointed focus with the heart. That is, while we live in our heads, and while our initial practice (focusing on a spot, bodily function, image, mantra, etc) is more or less done repetitiously by a conscious mental will or thought-process that initiates and maintains the activity, this is just the beginning.

In Prayer for People Who Think Too Much, author Mitch Finley cites an example involves a literary character taken from a Russian novel The Pilgrim who is a seeker of sorts. Following some advice he has been given, the character repeats a short prayer frequently when not engaged in activities that would distract him from it, and keeps doing so as suggested. Eventually, he gets profoundly bored with it, but he keeps repeating the prayer anyway. After a long dry spell of boredom and disinterest, an unanticipated change occurs and the prayer moves from his head to his heart. He no longer needs to say the prayer with his lips or in his mind, even though he still does at times, because it has become almost a living thing.

Interestingly enough, from what I have observed and read over the last few years, getting over an initial phase of interest or anticipation and then passing through a tedious period of seemingly endless and fruitless desert of monotony and a virtual loss of total interest seems to be a common theme/requirement of the basic prayerful and meditative practices of (most/all?) major religions. It's a test I haven't passed yet. I get bored, distracted, busy, or frustrated, and working along it is hard to maintain a serious commitment. But that aside, what is interesting is that Finley, as per his exemplar from The Pilgrim, equates having a single-pointed focus as something that comes from your heart rather than your head. That we rest in the deep spaciousness of our hearts once we have drilled through the layers of delusion, (false) expectations, and exaggerations that have accreted like arterial plaque, choking off our inherent awareness of ourselves. The prayer/meditation, according to this perspective, is no longer something we do but something that is that we become aware of (and follow along with in our devotions).

I have read and heard quite a bit about different methods for cultivating such focus, particularly in Buddhism but also from some Christian circles, and I have yet to have come across this explicit connection. I wonder if that is why so many people have trouble with working on this focus? and when we don't get the result we want as soon as we want, do we not then try this, try that, and try something else? To use an analogy Finley himself borrowed, it is like starting to dig a well several times and continually stopping and starting over somewhere else before you ever hit water. Which makes me wonder, how many people who are parroting and quoting the the teachings or insights of those who have successfully penetrated through such focus to the cave of the Heart and accessed the Spirit/Source/Nature/Way they had been alienated from have themselves realized such awareness for themselves?

(PS - And it reminds me of these musings and whether I in my ignorance and impatience might have, by serendipity, have skirted this insight before. To give a few examples that spring to mind...

A Little More On Sitting As Surrender
Sitting As Surrender
Pondering the Meaning of Liberation from Suffering, Part 4
Regarding Silence
No mind but Mind
Buddhism and the Divine)

Grasping at the moon reflected in the water

Sitting peacefully on a cushion day and night seeking to attain Buddhahood, rejecting life and death in hopes of realizing enlightenment, is all like a monkey grasping at the moon reflected in the water.

-Shoitsu

For what it's worth, I agree.

While some of us are in the dressing room

I have been writing a bit lately about indecision when it comes to choosing and committing to a spiritual tradition and its associated practices. I know I am not the only one who has, at some point, gone through this confusion and apathy, so I figure it is good to share that and maybe help others who are in a similar malaise. But while some of us are in the dressing room trying on variants of sacred paths as if they are outfits we are thinking about purchasing, some folks are living their practice in ways we can't imagine.

Dabbling at the Buddhist buffet (cafeteria-style practice)

Here is a quote I found posted by Sujatin at lotusinthemud that is relevant to an issue I think plagues many of us and which I recently addressed, namely, overabundant choices for the expression of direct and simple spiritual practice:

If we do a little of one kind of practice and a little of another, the work we have done in one often doesn't continue to build as we change to the next. It is as if we were to dig many shallow wells instead of one deep one. In continually moving from one approach to another, we are never forced to face our own boredom, impatience, and fears. We are never brought face to face with ourselves. So we need to choose a way of practice that is deep and ancient and connected with our hearts, and then make a commitment to follow it as long as it takes to transform ourselves.
- Jack Kornfield, A Path with Heart

Mr. Kornfield is not the only person to have addressed this in books or magazines on Buddhism, but his words here I think sum up the generally offered outlook on this issue. But still, for some people, the issue is how to choose and how to stick with that choice.

On not disparaging practices such as Buddha and sutra recitation

Or, alternatively, this could be titled "On not getting too hung up on elegant-sounding principles and neglecting reality".

I recently quoted the Buddhist monk Nichiren as writing that "Neither the Pure Land nor Hell exists outside oneself; both lie only within one’s own heart. Awakened to this, one is called a Buddha; deluded about it, one is called an ordinary person." This comes from "Hell is the Land of Tranquil Light", one of the letters Nichiren Buddhists tend to view as highly instructive in terms of the insights of their tradition's founder. It was a follow-up to my most recent efforts in wrestling with an important concept in Mahayana Buddhism - the idea that nirvana and samsara are "not two". I want to share and explore a comment that was left, and to do so in a manageable way and to make the conversation more accessible, I am replying here as a new post rather than in the comments section.

Here is the very thoughtful and helpful reply:

Yes, but practically speaking, "ordinary persons" might talk a lot about these matters, and have no real transformation. Into my opinion, only a Buddha can say things like this and truly understand them. For an ordinary person, to see Pure Land and Amida as being outside himself, aspire to be born there and entrust in Amida is beneficial and this simple faith can lead him to Buddhahood. No matter how many times ordinary people talk about non-duality, they will never escape it, so why not use it and make it a skillful mean? I think that Pure Land path is really doing this, which makes it different from the Zen path or other paths based on personal power. When reading your post, I suddenly remembered the words of Shinran Shonin in his Kyogyoshinsho:


"But the monks and laity of this latter age and the religious teachers of these times are floundering in concepts of "self-nature" and "mind-only," and they disparage the true realization of enlightenment in the Pure Land Way."

I share the concerns expressed above, and that is why I feel it is important for me to keep pointing such concerns out. I often write that these things sound great but they don't do much good if they aren't connected to genuine insight into such matters. It just becomes some kind of vain speculation, where people like the idea but cannot or do not wish to deal with the reality. It is also why I constantly talk about my inadequacy in discussing such topics.

I am also reminded of something I read several months ago on this very issue which is very pertinent and may be useful to people dealing with these issues...

Question:


The Diamond Sutra states, “All mundane (conditioned) dharmas are like dreams, illusions, shadows and bubbles.” Therefore the Saha World being illusory, so is the Land of Ultimate Bliss. Why not enter directly into the True Original Mind instead of seeking rebirth in an illusory world.


Answer:


In truth, all the pure and impure lands in the tend directions are like dreams and illusions; however, only when we have attained the “Illusion-like Samadhi” can we see them as illusory and false. If we have not yet reached that stage, we will still see them as real, we are still subject to their sway, we will still know sorrow and happiness, we still feel uncomfortable during the summer heat and are even bothered by such small things as mosquito and ant bites. This, how can we speak about things being illusory? We should realize that the Pure Land method is a wonderful expedient of the Buddha, borrowing an illusory realm of happiness to help being escape from an illusory realm of great suffering, full of obstructing conditions and dangers. Them, from that happy, peaceful, illusory realm, cultivation progresses easily and the ever-silent realm of the True Mind is swiftly attained.


To take an example, in this Saha World of ours, the scenes of stifling family life and noisy downtown business districts are illusory, and so are the scenes of temples and pagodas or mountain wildernesses. However, why is that cultivators leave the noisy environment of the cities to seek the quiet, sparsely populated landscapes and pagodas hidden in the mountains? Is it not because family life creates many binding ties and bustling urban intersections are not conducive to concentration, while temples and pagodas and mountain wildernesses facilitate cultivation. For this reason, the circumstances of ordinary people are different from those of the saints. For common mortals to put themselves in the place of the saints is far-fetched and unrealistic. We who are still common mortals should follow the path of ordinary people, and cultivate gradually. We should not look with the eyes of saints and comment too far above our level, to avoid the transgression of false speech, which can be harmful… (pp.140-141)


Going one step further, as stated in the Great Prajna Paramita Sutra: “The Buddha explained to those of dull capacities that all dharmas are dreamlike, silent, and still, lest they develop view-attachment. To those of sharp capacities he spoke of the embellishments of the Buddhas, because they are like lotus blossoms, untouched by worldly dusts.” For this reason, Subhuti, who of all the Arhat disciples, was the one most completely awakened to the Truth of Emptiness (devoid of all names and marks) characteristically received a prediction that he would attain full enlightenment in the future under the title of “Name and Mark Buddha.” Thus the sublime truth of no name or mark is inseparable from name and mark; all illusory dharmas are the Buddha’s dharmas, true and unchanging. (pp.143)


Going deeper still, to the ultimate and perferct stage, as the Sixth Patriarch [Hui Neng, the Six Patriarch of the Chan tradition] has said sentient beings are originally Buddhas, afflictions are Bodhi (enlightenment), and all delusions are the perfect and illuminating essence, truly enlightened, of the womb of the Tathagata (Buddha).


[later in response to a similar question…]


“Persons of moderate and low capacity should strive to repeat the Buddha’s name as many times as possible. While they may still have attachments and see themselves as reciting the Buddha’s name and earnestly seeking rebirth, it is a good thing, because by so doing, they will assuredly achieve rebirth at the time of death and ultimately enter the realm of No=Thought, No-Birth. Where is the worry? Otherwise, not conscious of their own limitations, seeking a direct and lofty way, grasping a the teachings of emptiness while incapable of following the truth of No-Thought – yet unwilling to practice at the lower level of seeking rebirth through Buddha Recitation – in the end they achieve neither. They just remain common mortals in the painful cycle of birth and death!
(pp.145)


[and later still in the next section…]


The sutras say, “To tire of and abandon ‘conditioned’ virtues is the action of demons. Yet, to be greedy and attached to transcendental, unconditioned virtues is also demonic action.” Ancient sages have also said that “Conditioned dharmas, while illusory, cannot be abandoned if we are to attain the Way. Although unconditioned dharmas are true, if we become attached to them, our wisdom-nature will not be comprehensive.” These words clearly demonstrate that, on the path to enlightenment, unconditioned and conditioned dharmas, noumenon and phenomenon are inseparable.


It is also stated in the Treatise on the Middle Way that, “Because common sentient beings grasp at external forms, the sutras destroy them with the truth of emptiness. If as they are free of this disease of attachment they fall into the error of grasping at emptiness, there is no medicine that can help them. As the Prajna Paramita Truth of Emptiness sounds lofty and miraculous, when educated people read of this literature, they usually get caught up in the error of “speaking on the level of principle” about everything and look down on those who follow form and marks in their practice. Thus, they create the karma of arrogance and self-importance. While they mouth the Truth of Emptiness, their actions are entirely in the realm of existence… (149-150)


One more point to bear in mind: if we speak about the Truth of Emptiness without having attained that stage (or at least reached a certain level of achievement in our practice) we certainly cannot convert others but will only end up in useless arguments and disputes. (pp. 152)


Of the two types of attachments, to existence and to emptiness, the latter is very dangerous. Both the Lankavatara and the Esoteric Adornment Sutra state:

"It is better to be attached to existence, though attachment may be as great as Mount Sumeru, than to be attached to emptiness, though attachment may be as small as a mustard seed.”

Attachment to “existence” leads to mindfulness of cause and effect, wariness of transgressions and fear of breaking the precepts, as well as to Buddha and sutra recitation and performance of good deeds. Although these actions are bound to forms and not free and liberated, they are all conducive to merits, virtues, and good roots. On the other hand, if we are attached to emptiness without having attained True Emptiness, but refuse to follow forms and cultivate merits and virtues, we will certainly sink into the cycle of birth and death. (pp.153-154)


-excerpted from the comments of Master Thich Thien Tam in Pure Land Buddhism: Dailogs with Ancient Masters (from the section "Doubts & Questions about Pure Land")

Overabundant choices for the expression of direct and simple spiritual practice

Too many choices? It can be a pain being a sincere searcher for an authentic practice to express a simple and direct experience of grace, acceptance, and empathy. Even within the confines of Buddhism. Chan/Zen can be simple and direct. So can reciting the nembutsu. So can reciting the odaimoku (of Nichiren Buddhism). Even in Tibetan Buddhism there is the directness of Dzogchen. Each of them is intended to represents the full teaching of the Dharma in a format generally intended to be accessible to everyone to help them accept /realize /experience /awaken to their limited, karmic existence as well as their limitless, non-conditioned reality (i.e. becoming Buddhas). Greaaat. So which one?

That is, using myself as an example here, I have read and heard enough from many teachers to see how each tradition or school or sect claims to embody the various teachings of the Buddha and all Enlightened Beings in a simple, direct practice. They have (superficial) differences in how they are described by their proponents, and how they are doctrinally or hsitorically distinct from other traditions. That's fine. One claims to be active. One claims to be passive. Another claims to be active and passive. Another claims to be neither active nor passive. OK. But they all offer a way to transcend delusion and transform suffering, and while some traditions can get very elaborate and detailed in the rituals, observances, and other liturgical aspects, I have always been a fan of those practices that are accessible to and work for everyone, not just for those with a lot of money and time to spend on de-stressing or self-improvement.

In Chan/Zen, there is nothing to attain. In Shin, there is nothing to do. In Nichiren Buddhism, one must not seek enlightenment outside of oneself. In Dzogchen, one is to experience "natural great perfection." And on and on it goes. And heck, I really think if you picked one of those, and let it symbolize/represent your aspirations and serve as a reminder of your true nature/reality-as-it-is, then hey, they could all make great rafts to cross to the other shore. I know that rankles some folks who are keen on this or that tradition or school. I apologize for the rankling.

I could go on listing other examples from Buddhism and never even get to the similar examples from other religions and spiritual paths. I think that it is nice, on the one hand, to have so much exposure to so many traditions, but it can also provoke indecisiveness among searchers and seekers. For example, should one see "Nam(u) Myo Ho Renge Kyo" as the underlying Call/Rhythm which permeates our existence? Or how about "Namu Amida Butsu"? Or perhaps it should be deep silence. Perhaps something else. When one is rooted (not cemented) in a particular tradition, it can allow for (although it doesn't nearly always lead to) a deeper appreciation of other traditions also offering a practice to express a simple and direct experience of grace, acceptance, and empathy. "Oh, yes," a well-rooted one might say, "those are all just expressions of what I know as X, but which others refer to as Y or Z." But for those who are not rooted, with so many beautiful expressed and sincerely-formed practices from which to choose, how does one pick and stick with a single option?

For some, this is not a concern. After all, being non-committal may seem more comfortable or even preferable, especially if they have had negative experiences with a religion or spiritual path that claimed to have the one, final, exlcusive answer to life and death. But there is I believe a difference between keeping an open mind and refusing to actually be involved or take a decisive step. Otherwise one is just wearing a meticulously chosen label that reflects a particular set of political, social, or cultural affinities. There is no substance, just the appeal of associating with religion or spirituality.

For those for whom the lack of decisiveness is a problem, on what basis should they precede in making a choice? I have personally experienced this problem before myself, and I am wondering if others who have "been there" would be willing to share their own experiences? How did you finally make a connection? Did it last? What advice would you give someone in similar circumstances?

Letting go of expecations not efforts

It is easy to talk about not being attached to things when we believe we are renouncing them. But renouncing something isn't the same as non-attachment. In the episode "Burn's Heir" (The Simpsons, Season Five), Homer says: "Kids, you tried your best and you failed miserably. The lesson is, never try." All humor aside, there is some ring of truth in what Homer is saying. It does appear that we can avoid failure by avoiding whatever it is we believe will lead to failure. Hence a lot of talk about non-attachment can easily lead to non-living.

Take smoking or drinking. Just because you renounce cigarettes or booze does NOT mean you are no longer "attached" to the false views and cravings your body and mind have learned to associate with nicotine or alcohol. While in these cases it may in fact be healthier if one can learn to live without (abusing) such substances, the point is that even when one is attempting to shun something (or someone) there can still be a deep attachment that is as strong or stronger in aversion as in attraction.

Related to this are all the things we feel are our weaknesses. Now, if you have a weakness, I am not suggesting you run out in front of it like a child into a busy intersection. We should be sensible about problems such as addiction, anxiety attacks, etc. If you walk with a cane I am not saying toss it aside and try to sprint up the stairs. But there is this well-known sense we all have at times that we can deal with problems by avoiding them. And in my humble opinion this is as true for Buddhist practice as anything else. When this kind of thinking takes root in our fear of failure it can masquerade as a claim of non-attachment or non-interest.

I don't think it is an exaggeration to say that many (most?) of us are results oriented. Not only results oriented, but visibly, causally-linked results oriented. This isn't bad, but this perspective can distort our appreciation of the full effects of our actions, speech, and thought. That is, if there is no immediately perceptible benefit, we may think an activity is pointless. If there is no immediately perceptible injury, we may think an activity is harmless. But many insights from traditions such as Buddhism remind us this is not necessarily so.

We can appear, therefore, to be "doing well" because we don't abuse drugs or alcohol, we don't smoke, we are at a good weight, we aren't in trouble with the authorities, and we have a decent job and few close relationships. Isn't that the ideal many of us have of what it means to lead a good life and to be adequate? Yet so many people in such situations suffer. And as Buddhists we may tell them that it is because of their unhealthy attachments and cravings, or because they are concerned with themselves ahead of others, and such things may be true, but do we do with that?

Do we have to renounce our family, friends, money, job, home, public image, etc? Do we have to renounce our selfishness and foolishness (assuming we could ever really give those things up as if they were just simple bad habits)? Can we not have ambition? Is it OK to give up on our dreams by calling them the selfish delusions of our false ego-minds? Are our efforts only as good as the immediate results we can directly perceive?

As I have written time and time again, I am not a Buddhist monk or priest. Nor am I any kind of ordained minister, or some self-styled prophet or guru. I am not a self-help coach. I just share my experiences and those things that others have shared with me. And I am not saying something people generally haven't heard before, but there is hearing and there is hearing. And so as I "get" something again for the umpteenth time, I suppose I have a desire to share it with you as well.

In this case, the issue is using the idea conflating renouncing/avoiding with non-attachment and lack of goals, dreams, or ambitions with the full expression of such an understanding non-attachment. Hence we can also indulge our fear of failure as we no longer have a reason to try. It's a perfect storm of rationalized detachment and demotivation masquerading as insight and tranquility - you float in the eye and ignore the wind and surf on all sides. It's the spiritual equivalent of curling up in the fetal position and sucking your thumb.

What is much scarier, but ultimately more rewarding and useful, is to know how to be at peace even when your are in turmoil. How to find that tranquility in the midst of the storm, not despite it. That means we still try (rejection). And try (failure). And try (exposure). But not because we want to earn our peace of mind, but rather because we already rooted in it. We can't see that at first - there doesn't appear to be an immediate benefit to living our spiritual practice. But if there is, that means we aren't just "trying", we are "doing". And it means we have to face our own expectations and transcend them rather than trying not to care or pretending we don't have expectations when we try ("do"). So then we aren't letting go of our efforts, just our expectations. Not in the renouncing way, but in the being comfortable living with them way. That is, in the yup, there they are, but they don't bother as much way.

I don't know about you, but that still bothers me. As is said in a Chan Buddhist podcast on "Fearlessness" I've linked before,

The ability to neither accept nor repudiate ego - that's real guts. We can be brave and stand up to it, "Oh, I know your just smoke and mirrors, I'm not going to--not going to let you fool me, Ego, you old foe of mine." Neither do we say "I'm going to turn my back on you, so there! So you can't affect me." Neither of those takes real fearlessness. Real fearlessness is the ability to do neither...Neither rejecting ego as foe or ignoring ego as phantom."
-Shih Ying-Fa

So, since people tend to make a big deal about a new (calendar) year and making resolutions and inspecting their lives, what better challenge for now and always (do we really need the "and" there?) than to practice fearlessness. My best to all of you! Thank you all for the lessons you have shared with me.

Practice makes perfect except when it does not

Is it fair to say that in Buddhism, practice doesn't make perfect, it reveals it? In a vein of writing that relates back to my recent posts on seated meditation as surrender, this one in particular, I am giving an update on the state of my own Buddhist practice. It seems only fair that if I am going to write about what such practice means to me that I should be willing to lay my cards on the table. So ante up and let's see what I'm holding...

In a reply to something I wrote a few months ago, Ray of Dharmakara's Prayer asked a question which included the following reply:

"I'd be keen to hear more about how buddhist thought and practice touches your lived experience."
I'll have to consider that. I suspect it is the case that the cliched view of our egos is correct. We all have the constructed version of ourselves in which we would like to believe, and then there is the often unobserved (at least by own selves) reality. Ironically, I suppose such an observation and honest appraisal would be a form of introspection consistent with (if not unique to) the concept of "buddhist thought and practice."


As it is, I am currently unaware of how either touches my lived experience. That is not to say there is no influence, but more to say I am not particularly conscious of it. This is in no small part owing to the fact that I haven't had a regular "Buddhist practice" in well over a year, not since circumstances undercut my ability to continue practicing with the sangha I had been with for 15-16 months.

Looking back at it, this shows a presumption that without being connected formally to teacher and a group that my efforts were somehow not as genuine or effective. Which I found odd coming from me when I re-read it. The irregularity of course had many sources, including something I addressed a couple of months later:

So where's the problem? I think perhaps I never really developed a good foundation for my practice. I was intrigued and figured it was worth a try, and when I found a sangha whose monastics were so enthusiastic and had such great confidence, I never worked on cultivating such qualities on my own. Since I had to stop going and then to move, these defects in my attitude and fortitude have become apparent.

And it's true. It is easy to agree in principle to much or all of Buddhism (especially parts of Mahayana Buddhism such as the Bodhisattva Vows) but so much harder to really and truly take them to heart. Especially when there is no one to judge you, to praise or blame you, to give you a sense of authenticity by association. When it's just you and your life, with no guru or robed figure to stand over your shoulder, what do you really believe? What do you actually do? Do you just like the appearance of being religious? The self-satisfaction of feeling spiritual? This is a very subtle but pernicious form of spiritual materialism. It is so easy to think we are very noble and caring and generous, but how much of that is just to fool ourselves or others?

I think I have been fortunate to have exposed my own errors (at least a few of them) and to have caught a glimpse of why I have been struggling in practice/why I had been unable to really answer Ray's question. Fear of being wrong and fear of failure can blind us to other possibilities. That is to say, if I assume I am right about something (but "admit" I could be wrong), why would I give another way of seeing something a chance? Mistakes, errors, and failures can provide a wonderful opportunity. Rather than dwelling on the idea of tarnishing our reputation or suffering embarrassment or humiliation, it is well worth asking "If I was wrong, what other options was I overlooking?"

And when we open our eyes to those new possibilities, who know what might happen?

To learn and actualize the teachings of just a single Buddha

I have posted previously the version of the Bodhisattva Vows that was shared with me and that I recite...

I vow to assist all beings without exception to attain the Highest Perfect Wisdom

I vow to transcend the endless delusions which hinder the perception of Universal Truth

I vow to learn and actualize the limitless teachings of all Buddhas and Enlightend Beings

I vow to follow unceasingly the Buddha's neverending path.

Over the last couple of years I had been reflecting quite a bit on the third, particularly the latter half:

I vow to learn and actualize the limitless teachings of all Buddhas and Enlightend Beings

Hence my discussions of the lessons found everywhere from the Bible to Einstein to whatever else you may have seen me reviewing here. I still feel that this is a valuable lesson, but what about the first half. To learn and actualize? My knowledge, in an academic sense, is still pretty limited if one wants to talk about in depth Buddhist philosophy, history, etc. I suspect the same is true for most Western-born "convert" Buddhists, even though what they have studied and learned can seem quite impressive. This is not necessarily a problem, however, as the central premise of Buddhism is repeated in different ways over and over in the various sutras, discourses on sutras, vows, etc, so that any serious inquiry into the teachings of the historical Buddha will have likely yielded more than enough information for someone to begin practicing the Dharma in the tradition that is bested suited to their path.

After some trial and error and false starts many practitioners can start to get the hang up the deeper meanings and common insight of emptiness, no-self, nirvana, dependent coarising, etc, and even become quite eloquent in discussing the profound simplicity and philosophical range of such teachings. And each new appreciation of another facet of these teachings and how they all boil down to very powerful common premise can bring a wave of the excitement that comes from deepening your insight. For those who are good learners of systems, models, generalized trends, etc, who like big picture questions and ask what principles underlie the processes observed in society, nature, or the universe itself, many Buddhist teachings are like a gold mine of intellectual treasure to be mined, refined, and processed. But learning of and talking about and even sounding like an expert with regard to such teachings isn't enough. Hence another frequent topic for this online journal is the difficulty of actualizing these teachings, not just the parts concerned with meditation, but ethics and wisdom as well.

There is the rub. This can be especially frustrating when one hears or reads about the experiences of others - how the same phenomena (people, trees, cars, pizzas) are still "there", but a major change in perception has taken place. The way in which these people reportedly relate to phenomena (not just perceptually) is radically transformed, but on the other hand, it is not always that "peak" experience practitioners sometimes expect, some kind of rapturous epiphany. Hence having such expectations can be said to do more harm to our Dharma practice than almost anything else because they lead to frustration and disillusionment, which is, after all, what Buddhism suggests is the source of much of our dissatisfaction with life to begin with! Not only does having a yardstick to "measure" our practice in contradiction to the notion that we don't need to "gain" anything to "achieve" enlightenment, it sets up the very kind of unnecessary and unrealistic expectations we are trying to lose.

Yes, but...

That's right. There is a "Yes, but..." Why? Because there is a difference between thinking "I need to reach this goal to become a fully realized Buddha..." and "Is there a way to tell if the path I am practicing is genuine and efficacious?" In other words, am I really actualizing the teaching of the Buddha? In a sense, one actualized them in doing them, yet there is the question of intention and transformation. Power can be defined as the ability to bring about transformation, so when someone claims certain practices and teachings are powerful, meaningful results should be in evidence for those embracing such practices and teachings. Part of the transformation in all spiritual paths is transforming the heart, allowing it to open and expand. Rather than just going through the motions in a hollow fashion, there is a reasonable requirement that Buddhist practice should be done with the proper intentions. In the Mahayana traditions, this is explicitly spelled out as the liberation of all sentient beings.

So what about those who have difficulty in generating or maintaining the most rudimentary form of Bodhicitta, even using simple methods like visualizing people they care about? Or those who are unable to find or commit to a suitable teacher or sangha? Or those who have trouble seeing some deep "inner goodness" or luminosity, compassion, wisdom, etc in themselves (and hence have difficulty really believing deep down that others would have it either)? I notice that such elementary problems are rarely addressed in the popular books or magazines on Buddhism, and I have wondered if, having experienced these doubts and difficulties myself, if there are some people who might have the spiritual equivalent of a learning disability. That is not to demean or mock those who suffer from diagnosed forms of academic learning disabilities, and in fact, I would suspect that the impediment I am describing would be an affliction more common to egg-heads and brainy know-it-alls. Yes, this would be the time to dig up the cliche about living to much in your head and not enough in your heart, which may be a more useful modern spin on the idea of a "middle way".

So that's my request - teachings on and practical advice for dealing with extreme cases of spiritual laziness, stupor,dispassion,and discouragement. Publishers, this would be a great idea for producing a book, magazine, etc, that stands out from the herd residing on the EASTERN RELIGIONS section of the local bookstore. Buddhist teachers and advisers who have found their way to this writing - your assistance is humbly requested.

Thanks to all.

(My brief suggestions in this regard have been added as a comment separate from this post)

Framing the relative and absolute in spirituality

How do we describe our relative and absolute nature in spiritual/religious terms?

Ray of Dharmakara's Prayer was kind enough to share some teachings presented by David Brazier, the founder of Amida Shu, and it has inspired this writing. With regard to the opening question, I have written about this particular theme ad nauseum (really, just search this site for terms like "Other-power"), but not everyone reads the entire archive and sometimes when we say things 101 times it's the way we phrase it that 101st time that someone else may finally figure out "Oooooh, so that's what he's been trying to say." So either way, this may do some good in some way.

One of the things I've written about a number of times is the idea that there is a perception of faith versus works or Other-power versus self-power which runs through seemingly (literally??) every sacred tradition. The way this is approached depends on the needs of the individual. Some schools emphasize one or the other to some degree. In Pure Land Buddhism, for example, there is the notion of self-power, or efforts we make, and Other-power, that which encompasses all. The idea of the more "through faith" schools in various traditions is that we are too limited to do all that is needed to fully grasp THE TRUTH and then successfully engage it. We don't have the intellectual, emotional, or ethical capacity to reach such PERFECTION. So we rely on Grace. In Christianity this comes through Christ. In Pure Land Buddhism this comes through Amida.

I am not equating those two religions, just highlighting some common thematic structure. In any case, in order to get to THE TRUTH and PERFECTION we are to rely on faith in either Christ or Amida (or for some of you that which such figures represents, wink wink). But no way does self-power, or works, get you there. And what is there? Our absolute nature - the unborn/undying Source of which we all ARE, the I AM to go Old Testament for a moment. On the other hand other sects or schools within these and other religions seem to focus on works or self-power - what we are doing to purify our lives, to effect a transformation. Meditating, praying, practicing charity, compassion, and all around goodwill.

But are these paths as different as they seem?

I suppose for some they are. But not to me. That doesn't make me right, just not satisfied with the either/or nature of the proposition. It is, in fact, true that the limited being or self, and its reifying core, the ego, cannot enlarge itself enough in time and space to fully realize and actualize the totality of existence. None of us can be omnipotent, omnipresent, etc. We are limited in perception, reasoning, memory, lifespan - and that's just for starters. But let look at Zen as an example of a supposed self-power school. You meditate and meditate and increase your focus and awareness and then BAM, mystical insight and magical powers. That is how some may sum up Zen (even perhaps some practitioners if we pare down the chaff of their language and refine the ore of their expectations).

Yet what about that? Zen employs methods involving directly perceiving the emptiness which then gives rise to the Great Doubt, which in turn may lead to the start of an awakening involving the teaching known as "no self". This is the teaching that we have no separate, distinct, or permanent existence apart from everything else which is formed through dependent co-arising. So while it may appear to be (and even be practiced as) as "self-power" school of Buddhism, isn't it interesting that the intended result, if that term is appropriate, is negation of the self, which then implies a profound awareness of / union with Other, often phrased as Buddha-nature. Similarly many Christian groups which emphasize various intense spiritual practices also emphasize total submission and surrender to God and giving oneself over to their Christ-nature.

I think personally one factor influencing the rise of many of the "faith-only" schools is that the intent of the practice-intensive schools was often lost, and instead of going beyond the self to the ultimate self-fulfillment/actualization of recognizing completeness within Other, they became a means to indulge the ego. A competitive game of spiritual one-upsmanship and pious self-satisfaction. Holier than thou. Bodhier than thou. Another factor, which would go hand-in-hand with the first, is the loss of a living tradition mediated by ritual and received wisdom towards a legalistic tradition which idolized ritual and turned received wisdom into unchallengeable dogma.

And all of this produces the chicken-and-the-egg dilemma of theology and spiritual philosophy - do ritual and good works help you to recognize/invoke the Other or does recognizing the Other inspire you to perform rituals and do good works? The answer is, in my humble opinion, yes, both. They are complimentary, not oppositional. It is true that the ego on its own cannot become the Buddha, but we can recognize the Buddha-nature present in all things, even the ego. A supplicant cannot hope to become God but can recognize the Divine nature of all things, including herself. That is also why in Zen there is this sense that everything would be so clear if only we would just let it be so. The challenge isn't to better ourselves, but to free ourselves, to free ourselves from the habituated ways of thinking and acting that have reinforced the fundamental delusion of seeing phenomena as having intrinsic existence.

Hence even in the "faith-only" schools one is not simply to say "I have faith so there is no work to be done." Rather, there is no amount of work that could turn a foolish being into an enlightened one, a sinner into a saint. As the Apostle Paul asked at the beginning of Romans chapter six - "What shall we say, then? Shall we go on sinning so that grace may increase?"

Heaven forbid!

Peace to you and your bridge between your relative and absolute nature, the object/figure of devotion which reminds you of the fundamental unity of both. From sand mandalas in the Himalyas to crucifixes to depiction of the Ceremony in the Air from the Lotus Sutra.

Worth and possession

What is a mandala worth? An inscription such as a Nichiren Gohonzon?* A crucifix? A statue of an honored saint or avatar or Bodhisattva? At some points in my life I might have said "everything", and at other points I might have said "nothing." I think I was correct on both counts.

The nicely phrased answer is that such icons have no significance other than that which we ascribe, which is to say, it isn't the form per se but what is being symbolized. What counts is whether it affects an individual and what in invokes and inspires. I am not satisfied with that answer. It isn't too difficult to say that any symbol, even the letters I am writing, do not have an specific inherent message encoded within them. We learned what sounds they represent and how they fit together to represent our spoken language.

When we see such imagery specific teachings, doctrines, parables, etc, that come to mind. The crucifix calls to mind the person of Jesus from the Gospels. A stature of Avalokiteshvara vividly projects the image of the Bodhisattva of Compassion. Great. And we can then go on to talk about the lessons and philosophical and historical dimensions of such figures. We can also do similar reflections on less personified symbols, like characters such as OM and TAO. That is fine. I am not disputing that. But why are we so often possessive of such icons? I have definitely felt that way before. If the meaning transcends the symbol, then why would I feel a need to "own" and "keep" and affirm my connection with that form of representation? Or why, more often, I have instead rejected such association and these kinds of symbols?

The personal and general psychological factors, socio-cultural influences, and other components of my history, or of anyone who has ever had such an impulse, are beyond the scope of this writing. We can talk about the need to establish identity, or to display affiliation, or to keep mementos. We can talk about whether such needs have an "evolutionary" basis (i.e. whether they are adaptive, as people tend to assume a conflation between evolution and adaptation). Yet whatever the other contributions are to my love-hate fascination with and collection/rejection of such icons, at least part of the basis of such interest and disinterest is the idea that I could own or disown the beliefs or attitudes represented. That isn't quite right, but it's close. There was a sense that my validation or repudiation of the ideas mattered, and that my beliefs could in turn be validated or empowered by manipulating my relationship with the relevant symbols.

Going back to what I wrote before, it becomes clear why I wasn't quite satisfied - "[Such religious] icons have no significance other than that which we ascribe, which is to say, it isn't the form per se but what is being symbolized. What counts is whether it affects an individual and what in invokes and inspires." But that leaves out the personal negotiation of why we ascribe significance, including the significance we ascribe to ourselves and our own beliefs. In the same way, it is accurate but too vague to merely say that such symbols have the power to affect individuals. Specifically, they can provoke a mediation and clarification of values and identity with regard to spiritual and religious questions. Even for avowed nonreligious atheists.

So, the possession and control of such icons can serve as a kind of proxy for possession and control of a part of ourselves, even if we are eschewing such items. That is certainly something to which we might assign worth. But I am also reminded of the lesson of dependent co-arising and emptiness. In the light of such teachings one can never truly possess anything. To believe we possess something we must see that something as separate from ourselves and as fixed. That is easy to think from a limited, relative perspective, unless we have already accept that all thing are in constant flux. In time they will no longer even vaguely resemble what they appear to be now. Neither will our components.

That which we think we can possess is therefore the idea of a thing, like a snapshot of the item rather than the item itself. A phantom. A counterfeit and a shadow. By clinging to such ghosts and memories of things, the ever-changing phenomena of the real world, of which we are and which we are in, goes unappreciated. When we notice these items we believe we possess have changed, that they are no longer in close proximity, or when we no longer feel we can claim possession of them, we can become frustrated or distraught. We remember how our child or friend used to be rather than accepting who they are now. Hence the expression that if you love someone you have to let it go. You can't control them or keep them from changing. In the same way, I am continuing to relearn and slowly accept that this is true of all phenomena.

Going back to the consideration of the worth of religious and spiritual icons, what does this lesson about possession mean? I believe that it means that we can become overly attached to our views and then transfer this attachment to our attitudes towards the symbols to which the views are connected. And in so doing, even if those symbols represent the highest teachings of the spirit, the purest motives of the heart, and greatest calling of our nature, if we have a possessive attitude we will fail to realize such virtues, instead grasping after the snapshot rather than the living reality. In place of the experience of the teachings and virtues of the sacred tradition as an ongoing process informed by both the past and the present, a wooden dogma. If we try to possess such symbols or beliefs, or any other phenomena (mental, physical, emotional, etc), "they" (the counterfeits) are worth nothing. When we accept them as they are, they can have their fullest value (which means in the case of specific views, even those we believe are wrong, letting them be wrong for what they are, not what we wish them to be).
------

As I was typing this, my email client played a recorded message to tell me I had received a new message. I opened the message, which was a daily mailing from Beliefnet, and ironically it contained the following quote:

To cling to oneself as Buddha, oneself as Zen or the way, making that an understanding, is called clinging to the inward view.

Attainment by causes and conditions, practice and realization, is called the outward view.

Master Pao-chih said, “The inward view and the outward view are both mistaken.”

-Pai-chang

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*Thanks to the first two paragraphs of this post by Reverend Ryuei for inspiring me to discuss this topic.

The substance of spiritual practice

What is the substance of spiritual practice? In Buddhism people may refer to seated or walking meditation, chanting, bowing/prostrations, lighting candles or incense, and visualization techniques. Yes, things things can be helpful and have their place, and they can be an anchor/touchstone for spiritual awareness and depth, but do they constitute the sum or even the bulk of spiritual practice (and we can for other sacred traditions list similar activities)? I bet my regular reader(s) can guess my answer.

If you predicted my answer would be "no", you've chosen correctly. Spiritual development should be challenging and provocative as well as humbling and uplifting. Yes, regular adherence to certain rituals can be an invaluable keystone, but it should be a jumping off point rather than a daily destination. It should point us to what we need to confront in our lives and give us the strength to do so.

No one can really tell you what it is you need to challenge and scrutinize in your own life. A Buddhist may believe that the problem is somehow rooted in a failure to actualize the teachings on emptiness, dependent co-arising, or no-self, but that does not predict how that will manifest in the life of a specific individual. Such introspection can reveal an issue expressed in how one deals with authority, overeating, anger problems, extreme shyness, or any of a number of things with which one regularly struggles.

The subtle misconception is that a spiritual practice is intended to solve such particular problems. However, it is more accurate and useful to see such issues as symptoms of a more profound underlying cause. As noted, Buddhists tend to see it as a result of a false sense of separate, intrinsic existence and delusion of separation. But that's an academic abstraction, not the living experience and wisdom of the underlying truth upon which the principle is based.

Spiritual practice is not simply a glorified 'self-help' process or support, however, personal transformation is part and parcel of such practice. And it isn't something you can fake or compensate for by how often you impress others or try to impress yourself with your daily acts of devotion or piety. It is being completely honest, more honest that we can usually comfortably deal with. Beyond the sense of identity we keep deep, deep down. That one is a good person. A bad person. An important person without whom the world couldn't keep spinning. An insignificant person whose life is of no appreciable consequence.

It can be scary thing sometimes being that honest and open, listening to the deepest spaces of the heart, but it can also be liberating.

A day in the life of the Dalai Lama

Tenzin Gyatso (14th Dalai Lama) 2008, 2005 & 2004 (Finalist in 2009) (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

It seems like if you are famous and people like you, your daily routine is a subject of public interest. I am not a celebrity watcher, I don't read magazine or websites about what famous people do in their spare time, etc. Yet I did find it interesting to see a generalized version of the 14th Dalai Lama's routine - just how does a world-famous spiritual leader and self-proclaimed "simple monk" spend his day? From a story in the Summit Daily News via The Buddhist Channel...

When at home, he:

- Wakes up at 3:30 a.m., beginning the day with prayers, meditations and prostrations until 5 a.m.

- 5 a.m., walks (if it's raining, he uses a treadmill).

- 5:30 a.m., eats a breakfast of hot porridge, barley powder, bread and tea, while listening to the BBC World News.

- 6-8:30 a.m., continues morning meditation and prayers.

- 9-11:30 a.m., studies various Buddhist texts.

- 11:30 a.m., eats lunch (while at home, he eats vegetarian; outside of Dharamsala, he doesn't always eat vegetarian).

- 12:30-4:30 p.m., discusses work with his staff or holds interviews

- 6 p.m., drinks evening tea (as an ordained Buddhist monk, he does not have dinner).

- 6:30-8:30 p.m., evening prayers and meditation.

- 8:30 p.m., bedtime.

Just don't ask how I spend *my* typical day... ;o)

Solo practice

Due to various personal circumstances, for three months I have been unable to attend the sangha I had been practicing with since the beginning of 2005. I managed to go to three weeks (in a row no less) in early May, but that's been it. Immediate thoughts on this include:

• practice isn't just the formal exercises--those are simply for practice and recharging
• formal practice with others is not necessary but it is very beneficial
• it would be nice to be able to continue group practice

Anyway, I am continually reminding myself to find the opportunity in every crisis or unexpected circumstance, which tends to reinvigorate my resolve to appreciate where I am not where I might otherwise "wish" to be.

I may be limited to solo practice, but I am not practicing alone.

Amitabha!

Mountains and rivers

Or, "Why Bother With Practice?"


The same saying, three different ways...

(1)Before learning the Dharma, the mountains appear as mountains. When one begins to study Dharma the Mountains seem to disappear. After accepting the Dharma, the mountains again appear as mountains. (2) When I began, mountains were mountains and rivers were rivers; when I penetrated deeply, mountains were no longer mountains and rivers were no longer rivers; and when I had finished, mountains were again mountains and rivers again rivers. (3) Before Zen, mountains are mountains and rivers are rivers. During Zen, mountains are no longer mountains and rivers are no longer rivers. After Zen, mountains are mountains and rivers are rivers.

Personally, my order of preference for stylistic merit is #3, #2, #1, and for conveyance of meaning #1, #2, and #3 (so I guess #2 is the best overall IMHO). Not that this is a critical point, but I suppose one could also really make it ugly by substituting clumsy phrases like "emptiness, noself, and dependent co-arising" in for "Zen" or "Dharma". But the reason I bring this saying up at all is that I think it fits really nicely with a recent post I made quoting from the late Catholic monk Brother Wayne Teasdale, because he seems to be saying the same thing (to repeat the quote for those not reading the entries in chronological order with my own emphasis and commentary in brackets added):

"Many times throughout my years of meditation, in coming out of a session with a group, my perception of others is dramatically altered. I notice something completely extraordinary. Rather than perceiving these people as completely separate from me, as I normally do {'When I began, mountains were mountains and rivers were rivers'}, I feel that difference disappear; I realize that no differences exist between and among us, that we are united in a deeper, ineffable reality {'when I penetrated deeply, mountains were no longer mountains and rivers were no longer rivers'}. Although I perceive us as distinct, all sense of separation is gone {'and when I had finished, mountains were again mountains and rivers again rivers'}. "Another way to express this perception is to say that distance is overcome. There is no real sense of distance between these people and me. Much of the separation that seems to exist is cultural and psychological, determined by our socialization. Time and space fold into unity, and I experience others -- and, I hope, they me -- in a timeless, spaceless now, an immediacy of the real ground of love from which we are always coming forth and to which we are returning. It is an incredible beautiful, organic, peaceful state." --A Monk in the World (pp. 38)

I think this also brings up a point about confusion over Buddha-nature. This is relevant to the quoted Buddhist proverb when we consider that just as the first and last lines of the saying about mountains and rivers seem the same, they are not. In the first line we see the world from a mundane view, and in the last we see the same world from an enlightened view. Seeing our Buddha-nature from intellectual assent to a teaching or as philosphically pleasing or consistent proposition isn't the same as really perceiving Buddha-nature. In the proverb, when the person first sees trees and mountains, the person sees them incompletely from a limited perspective, as separate and discontinuous fixed objects. Only later does the person really see the mountains and the rivers. So too, thanks in part to our diligence in practice, will we eventually allow ourselves to really perceive Buddha-nature (note the selective use of the lack of a possessive pronoun throughout for that term).

To expand a little, one means of expressing teaching about Buddha-nature is to say we all have access to it/are unified with it, but not everyone actualizes/realizes it. Some people then think, 'Oh, so I'm a Buddha, great, then I don't need to practice, because there is nothing to attain.' Which, in a way, I believe, is correct. There is nothing to attain. The problem is that while it is true we already are/possess/have access to Buddha-nature, that there is nothing to attain, we still do strive to attain the things* we crave, the things that validate the tiny ego of the selfish mind. So while it would be nice if people really did grasp the need for/directly experience non-attainment in actualizing/realizing Buddha-nature just by hearing that they are Buddhas, our ingrained tendencies and unrealistic views about ourselves unfortunately require some weeding of our hearts and minds (the middle line of the proverb about the mountains and the rivers is not inconsequential). So then the cultivation spoken of in Buddhism isn't to try to "get" or "grow" the seeds of Bodhi, but to keep out the weeds so that what is already always growing in our hearts can bloom. Hence my recent citation in another recent post of the saying "The Way doesn't need cultivation. Just don't pollute it" (Ch'an ancestor Mazu).




*this isn't saying that any desire or striving is bad or harmful, it is referring only to those impermanent circumstances (health, wealth, etc) which we think will 'complete us' and give us lasting happiness or joy; Buddhism teaches that that which offers such peace we already possess and that it is beyond the whim of circumstance

What are the refuges & precepts and why take them?

I was having a conversation with a friend the other day and I was asked the following question(s). I thought they were very good questions, and while I already answered them in private the answers are appropriate to the record of my practice being kept here on this blog.

Would you mind explaining more about the process of taking refuge and the lay precepts? What made you decide to take that step, or do you feel it is just a natural progression for you? What does it entail? If you don't mind sharing.

The process varies from tradition to tradition, school to school, and at times even lineage to lineage, so what you read elsewhere might sound the same or different. First, for the Ch'an lineage my teacher is connected with, there would be three basic vows that are a part of any other set of vows, which are sometimes called the Three Pure Precepts:

• Cease to Do Evil
• Do Only Good
• Do Good for Others

I personally think these can also be understood as "Do not cause unnecessary suffering or act out of greed/anger/ignorance", "Do that which promotes well-being", "Promote the well-being of others."

Anyway, I got that from the website of one of the abbot's root teachers, and when I asked the abbot about taking vows he mentioned them as well. The Refuges are very common in Buddhism. Basically,

• I take refuge in the Buddha
• I take refuge in the Dharma
• I take refuge in the Sangha

Again, my own understanding of what they means follows. The first vow honors the Buddha as the root teacher of all the traditions, schools, lineages, etc. and is a show of appreciation for the lessons he provided. But also if refers to our own Buddha-nature, taking comfort in recalling that we are all unrealized Buddhas and we all have access to our Buddha-nature of limitless wisdom and compassion. Dharma can refer to dozens of things from "law", "phenomena", to the teachings of the Buddha. I think most see the latter as the primary referant in the vows. As with the Buddha, we honor those teachings and their use in the vow. Of course, the Sangha refers to the Buddhists we practice with but also in another sense all sentient beings, the "big sangha" as it were, as everyone is just a Buddha waiting to happen.

I think that the refuges are the most common basic practice of "becoming" a lay Buddhist. It is basically just a public announcement, as it isn't an oath to a God and there is no baptism or anything. Of course, anyone can do it anywhere and any time, teacher or no teacher, sangha or no sangha. I think that doing it with a particular teacher signifies perhaps an appreciation for and a non-binding committment to that teacher, a ceremony that provides instruction as well as a sense of belonging or joining. In some traditions it's only "official" under a variety of circumstances, especially for example some of the forms of Buddhism practiced in Tibet.

Now, beyond both the Three Pure Precepts and the Three Refuges are what are normally called "the" Precepts (the three pure ones are kind of considered the basis or genesis for all the others, which just spell the pure precepts out in more specific circumstance). They are sort of progressive, again, and vary a little from group to group. The first five are the so-called lay precepts. You don't have to take them when you do the Refuges, but if you haven't take then Refuges you generally take them when doing the lay precepts. You will often see them written as something like:

1. I will refrain from lying.
2. I will refrain from intoxicants.
3. I will refrain from stealing.
4. I will refrain from sexual misconduct.
5. I will refrain from killing.

I have also seen these discussed with more depth. In particular, The Complete Idiot's Guide to Buddhism does an excellent job of this (and I usually don't care much for those books). For one thing, note that you are choosing to do this--it isn't a "thou shalt" or "shalt not". Also, at depth, it's more like:

1. I will refrain from unskillful (read harmful/deceptive) speech--I will think before I open my fat mouth.
2. I will be skillful in consumption--I will consider what I put into my body and its effect on my health and how I behave.
3. I will be skillful in how I give and receive--I won't take what isn't freely given and I will be gracious and appreciative of what is freely given.
4. I will appreciate the power of sexuality and use it in a physically, emotionally, and mentally beneficial way in a loving relationship.
5. I will consider all the acts I perform and how they affect the life and death of other beings--I will conduct myself in a way that maximizes respect for the life of all creatures.

Now, a shramenera, or novice monk (also called a lay monk because he still owns a home, has a regular job, doesn't live in a monastery, etc.) would take another five vows for a total of ten. A fully ordained monk may take over 40 vows. I was there last summer when my sangha's local leader took his vows as a novice monk. The abott told him (and the rest of us) that the vows cannot be broken. We may drop them or lay them down, but we can also choose to pick them up again.

It's interesting to note that the abbot doesn't overtly advertise or suggest taking Refuge or Lay Precepts, so I was the one who approached him about the issue. I knew a little about vows from my investigation of Buddhism and I've asked him a bit about it, but I don't actually know what will happen or when.

As far as why I would ask him about undergoing such a ceremony, that is a good question. I think part of it is the fact that I really find the practice to be a rewarding challenge. It is very hard work and as the abbot says, "We make no guarantees". It reminds me of Morpheus from The Matrix--"All I'm offering is the truth. Nothing more." In fact, being open to the possibilities is a part of what being mindful is all about, so there is no "final" conclusion in Buddhism anymore than there is only one person in the world or only one moment in a lifetime. Which keeps it interesting. Another part is that I really respect the underlying philosophy--the ethics and metaphysics are very much in tune with my sensibilities, unlike when I was in Christian churches (and again, unlike there, in my sangha there is an open Q&A afer every dharma talk to challenge or question what has been said). And along with that, as a social creature we are more effective when we practice and work with others rather than solo. Yet another part is that I think it is good for my ego and general contrarian/skeptical nature to participate in an ancient and beautiful ceremony, bowing to the ten direction, doing prostrations, etc. And again, unlike my days in Christianity, where I managed to avoid baptism even when I was an avid believer because I didn't appreciate the gesture and felt almost compelled to "be" Christian, I am actually *choosing* to be a part of this group and through it learn to more fully connect to humanity as a whole. Or something like that.

Day at an Intensive

Very similar to the "Day of Zen" I attended back in May, the intensive was also held by the local Buddhist group with which I practice under the guidance and teaching of the Venerable Shih Ying-Fa, the abbot of Cloudwater Zendo (our group, Ksanti Sangha, is an affiliate of the Cloudwater temple). Sitting meditation and walking meditation (which we do weekly) as well as work practice, a lunch service, dharma talk/discussion period, and a long chanting service (we normally do a short service in the weekly meetings).

One of the more interesting and revealing exercises was a test of attachment to concepts. We were each given a card with writing on it, with the writing placed face-down. We were instructed to flip the card over and focus our concentration on the word on the other side and observe our minds. I flipped the card and read saw the letters FISH written in print. My initial reaction was a flash of an impression of small dark shapes swimming in the ocean, then the pronounciation of the word FISH, followed by a brief image or impression of a person a boat fishing. Then the word just became letters, F...I...S...H..., and if I had continued concentrating any longer I believe the letters would have turned into lines. We were then instructed to flip the card over and focus on the other side. It was blank--a blank white card. My mind at that point was empty--nothing there to trigger a response.

It's funny, though, that while an intensive is intended to help people strenghten their practice, attempting to gaugue any kind of success or failure is counterproductive on the part of the partcipant as it reinforces some of the very habits, attachments, and midleading concepts from which were are attempting to free ourselves. Having just finished three decades (1978-2005) of being a student in a formal academic setting (elementary school through graduate school) I still sometimes find it hard to not dwell on questions like "I wonder how I'm doing?" or "How do I know if I'm doing it right."

Good dharma talk...long bus ride

Of course, is there such a thing as a bad dharma talk, or just a talk that didn't work for a particular person? ;o)

I managed to get to my weekly sangha meeting on Wednesday despite the transportation difficulties arising from last week's hit and run that took out the car. I called Port Authority, the people who run public transportation here in Allegheny County, and it only took two buses and two hours to arrive. Of course, I was supposed to be there early to set up, as we meet in a church and I am learning how to do the altar/cushions setup as part of my training for the refuge vows & lay precepts. I did indeed get there early and did OK, although I still corrected a few minor things before the service started.

And at the end of the service was a great dharma talk. I generally like the talks that the abbot gives when he visits, but this one really answered a lot of questions I have been having, not with some kind of "final answer", but in a way that offers really useful guidance for my practice. I am hoping that my car troubles won't keep me from going to our sangha's yearly intensive, an all day meeting that I have heard is very aptly named. It's so amazing that I've been practicing Buddhism formally with a group and a teacher for nearly 9 months now and I haven't gotten bored or fed up yet. It's definitely challenging, and sometimes takes a lot of effort just to even get there (let alone practice!), but how about that, I still keep going back and asking for more.