Buddha Space

Enlightenment, Anyone?

2012-01-27T19:45:00.003+07:00

Enlightenment is to be found right where you are!

In Buddhism, there are many sects that all have their own take on exactly what enlightenment is, and the different stages of it. In Pure Land Buddhism, for example, enlightenment is the result of meditating in the Pure Land of Amitabha Buddha. This is achieved after surrendering to Amitabha in this life and being reborn in his heavenly realm in the next, where the conditions are considered more conducive to realizing nirvana. This is not the approach of this author, however, although I would not criticize them for doing so. However, it seems to me that suffering is so prevalent in this life that to postpone enlightenment to some later life would seem to be a bit of a waste of this one, when there are so many other schools of Buddhism that declare enlightenment is possible in this very life. In this article, we will evaluate two such types of the Buddhist path, and look for ourselves to see if such a (non-)thing as enlightenment exists, right here & now.

The two forms of Buddhism that have appealed to me the most over the years, and have formed the basis for my practice, are Theravada Buddhism & Zen Buddhism. Theravada is generally considered the oldest extant form of Buddhism, and is found in such places as Sri Lanka, Burma, & Thailand, the latter being my home. Zen is found in China & Japan amongst other countries, and is one of the newer major forms of the Mahayana branch of Buddhism. There many points of disagreement amongst many - perhaps most - adherents of these traditions, ranging from the nature of a buddha to the role of monks in society. This will not be our current concern, however, for we will attempt to get to the heart of Buddhism with the help of both Theravada & Zen Buddhism. And this heart is, according to the Buddha, our heart, which is enlightenment. But, first, let's take a very brief look at their origins.

Theravada Buddhists generally consider their tradition is directly descended from the Buddha and that it continues to reflect his teaching (essentially) as he taught it, and puts much emphasis on empirically-proven truths, as opposed to faith-based religion. The central focus of this teaching are the four noble truths (cattari-airya-saccani). The first truth is dukkha - variously translated as angst, pain, discomfort, unsatisfactoriness, and most commonly, suffering. This blog generally uses the last of these.) The Buddha taught that no matter what we do, it contains some amount of suffering, whether because we don't have what we want, have what we don't want, fear losing what we have, or fear getting what we don't. He considered this the primary reason that we don't enjoy life as much as we could, and so he sought a way out of suffering. The second noble truth states that the cause of suffering is desire (tanha), or more precisely the clinging (upadana) to desire. Therefore, if we let go of desire, we end (nirodha) suffering; this is the third noble truth, which is widely known as nirvana (see below). But how to realize such a state of being? This is the fourth noble truth, the noble eightfold path (airya-atthangika-magga), which is described a little later.

Mahayana Buddhism, from which Zen derived, is made up of many different schools and teachings, and contains doctrines & practices that many scholars consider to be additions to those mentioned above. A few of the differences between these two branches of Buddhism appear above, but there are many more which we won't go into here for two good reasons: lack of space, and their irrelevance to our present concern. As to Mahayana Buddhism itself, it seems that it metamorphosed as it travelled across the orient, developing new and innovative ways to communicate and practice the Buddha's way. One result of this ever-changing branch of Buddhism was Zen, a fusion of Indian Buddhism and Chinese Daoism. Taking the essence of Buddhism, and mixing it with the sagacity of Chinese figures such as Laozi and Zhuangzi, Zen cut through much of Mahayana Buddhism's often complicated doctrines, although retaining its outer forms and sutras. Zen focuses on an immediate experience of the same awakening that the Buddha experienced - called satori in Japanese - and has developed some novel methods to this end, which we'll hopefully have time for below.

Despite their different routes out of India, Theravada going south through Sri Lanka and then onto mainland southeast Asia, and Zen, spreading across the far east, these two types of Buddhism have much in common. Apart from the aforementioned possibility of enlightenment in this lifetime, they also share an emphasis on mindfulness and meditation as paths to awakening. The historical Buddha, as opposed to figures like Amitabha mentioned above, is also the central person in both traditions, despite the presence of many other revered beings. Monasticism has retained its importance in Theravada & Zen alike, too, although there are some important differences here. As to the subject of enlightenment itself, again there are similarities in the two traditions' accounts of what it actually is, but there also exist some differences, as will be seen below. However, the essential explanations contain the same 'flavour,' indicating that they are referring to the same experience. So, according to Theravada and Zen, what exactly is enlightenment, and how are we to achieve, recognize, and sustain it? Below, we will explore these questions, comparing and contrasting the two approaches and experiences of enlightenment, before coming to some necessarily tentative conclusions.

In Theravada Buddhism, enlightenment is the main focus of much of the teachings attributed to the Buddha in its scriptures which are known as Tipitika ('Three Collections') in Pali, the language in which they were originally recorded, and as the Pali Canon in English. It is not, however, the only subject that he explains, others being karma & rebirth, welfare & happiness in this life (dittha-dhamma-hitasukha) and welfare & happiness in the next life (samparayika-hitasukha). The latter two aspects of the Buddha's dispensation are part of a traditional threefold division of his teachings, the third being the one that concerns us at present: the supreme goal (paramattha), which is also known as enlightenment or awakening (bodhi), or extinction (nibbana in Pali, nirvana in Sanskrit). We will now take a look at the Theravada view of enlightenment, and see what we can make of it.

The Buddha, or to give him his full title Sammasambuddha ('Fully-Self-Awakened-One'), famously awoke to his true nature under the bodhi tree roughly two-and-a-half millennia ago in northern India. But, what was this awakening that triggered the founding of one of the world's greatest ever religions? Well, nirvana & nibbana translate as extinction or 'snuffing out,' which many have taken to mean the extinction of the self or personality, as Buddhism holds that ultimately there is no self. However, this is not quite right, for the Buddha taught that the self never existed in the first place to be extinguished. This is summed up in the teaching on anatta ('not-self') which is found throughout the Pali Canon, along with two other so-called three characteristics of existence (tilakkhana): dukkha (discussed above), and anicca ('impermance'). So, it's not that we have a self that we extinguish, but rather, it is the delusion of a self that is 'snuffed out' upon enlightenment, along with the three poisons that feed it: greed, hatred, & delusion.

Nirvana is described as unconditioned (asankhata), which means it is not the product of previous actions (karma), nor does it cause any future results of present actions. Therefore, for the enlightened one, there is no more rebirth into this world (or any other), and their state is said to be indescribable upon the body's demise, so it cannot be characterized as existence, nonexistence, both existence and nonexistence, nor neither existence or nonexistence. In other words, it's beyond words! Enlightenment, according to accounts in the Pali Canon and modern masters, is said to be wonderful, free of suffering, happy and peaceful. More than this, it is full of compassion, for when we see that all have their being in the unconditioned, and that their suffering is our suffering, on the level on interdependent beings. A child's hunger is our hunger, a mother's grief our grief, and an animal's pain our pain, all viewed in the painless 'zone' of awakening. We reach out to all who suffer, helping in whatever way we can, one way being to help them to see beyond their clinging, suffering selves. But, we're getting ahead of ourselves, somewhat; now that we know approximately what enlightenment is, just how do we realize it?

According to the Pali Canon, we achieve enlightenment by practicing the noble eightfold path, which briefly made its bow above. This isn't to say that we cannot have glimpses of awakening outside this path, but that if the Buddhist understanding of full enlightenment is to be realized, this is the way to do it. This 'glimpsing' of enlightenment, or partial awakening, is also found in Zen, which we'll check out shortly. Anyway, the eightfold path is named such for its factors which are right view (samma-ditthi), right intention (samma-sankappa), right speech (samma-vaja), right action (samma-kammanta), right livelihood (samma-ajiva), right effort (samma-vayama), right mindfulness (samma-sati), and right concentration (samma-samadhi). Again, lack of room in this article will have to live this particular subject here, apart from to state that nirvana, which is unconditioned, remember, is not the result of this path, but is revealed as this way is practiced, much as the moon is not the result of parting clouds, but shines forth upon their parting.

As the eightfold path suggests, awakening is a gradual process (for most of us, at least), and therefore the various aspects of the path combine to assist us in letting go of the fetters that bind us to an unenlightened state of being. The fetters are dealt with in a moment. The path itself is grouped into three main trainings: virtue (sila), concentration (samadhi), and wisdom (panna). The first of these includes right speech, action, and livelihood, and governs our interactions with others, reducing harmful acts - or eradicating them altogether if we really perfect this training. The training in concentration includes right effort, mindfulness, and (funnily enough) concentration. This includes the practice of meditation, an important aspect of Buddhism without which enlightenment is nigh on impossible, according to Theravada tradition. In the Pali Canon, all the enlightened people, including the Buddha, are seen to meditate regularly, even after full awakening. Next, we will examine the different kinds of enlightened people, or 'noble persons,' that are found in Theravada Buddhism.

There are four stages of noble persons (ariya-puggala) according to the Buddha. These persons are characterized by the fetters (samyojana) that they have let go of. The first kind of noble person is the 'stream-enterer' (sotapanna) is one that has abandoned the fetters of identity-view, doubt, and attachment to rules and rituals. The second kind is the 'once-returner' (sakadagami) that has loosened the bonds of sensual desire and ill-will. These two fetters have completely been abandoned by the 'non-returner' (anagami). The last stage of noble person is the 'worthy-one' (arahant) who has abandoned five further fetters including conceit and ignorance. We can recognize which one of the noble persons we are by the fetters that remain.

In truth, there's nothing to be done to sustain the experience of enlightenment, for even if we are not yet an arahant, if we have already glimpsed the truth as one of the three other kinds of noble being, then we will definitely continue our awakening all the way to nirvana…eventually. However, if we are already on the path, we will surely be inspired by our experiences of freedom from at least some of the fetters to further realizations, and there is a sense in Theravada Buddhism that this process from stream-enterer to arahant is a wholly natural one once it has begun, and all we have to do is get out of the way, so to speak. So much for Theravada Buddhist teachings on enlightenment. Now we turn to Zen Buddhism, and see what it has to say about the nature of awakening and how we realize it.

Zen Buddhism purports to be "A special transmission outside of scriptures," and yet the scriptures that it refers to and finds its philosophical origins in are numerous. As a branch of Mahayana Buddhism, the Zen schools refer to a variety of texts from the Tripitaka (the Sanskrit equivalent of the Pali Canon), including the Heart Sutra and Diamond Sutra, Chinese Daoist texts such as the Dao De Jing and Zhuangzi, and the records of many Zen masters like the Record of Huang Po, and the Record of Linji. Added to these are works by Japanese, Korean, and Vietnamese Zen masters, including Dogen's immense Shobogenzo. So, although the "transmission" may take place "outside of scriptures," words have, and continue, to exert a profound influence over the lives of Zen Buddhists. Nonetheless, all these texts contain the subject of enlightenment as the most important subject, and declare that it is realizable in this very lifetime.

As already mentioned, Zen is the product of Indian Buddhism and Chinese Daoism. Indeed, in the early Zen texts, the Chinese word 'Dao' is often found to indicate nirvana, as later the word Zen itself would come to indicate. Etymologically speaking, the original Chinese term for Zen is Chan (or Channa in its long form), which derives from the Sankrit word dhyana (jhana in Pali), which means absorption or 'meditative state.' Zen (long form zenna) is the Japanese version of the Chinese. So, Zen both indicates meditation and enlightenment, which sits well with the Zen Buddhist teaching that to do zazen ('sitting meditation') is to experience nirvana. It's not that nirvana is the result of zazen, but that it is zazen, and vice versa. This is because Zen Buddhism teaches us that enlightenment is already present and that zazen enables us to see true nature (kensho in Jappanese).

Kensho, then, indicates a person's initial glimpses or experiences of enlightenment. Another term for which is shogo in Japanese; daigo ('great enlightenment') describes a deeper, permanent experience of nirvana. This, in turn, is a contraction of daigo-tettei, which literally translates as 'great -enlightenment-that-reaches-to-the-ground,' which is a colorful way as saying 'complete enlightenment.' The more common word for dig is satori, which is usually translated as 'understanding.' Sometimes, as in the writings of many Zennists, satori is used as a general term indicating all types of awakening, bit dig and shoji. The problem here, is that someone might presume that an initial enlightenment experience is actually a complete one, as the same word can be used for both. This vagueness is found in many aspects of Zen Buddhist language, in contrast to the more methodical Theravada lexicons, and is a double-edged sword.

When Zen Buddhists describe enlightenment, then, they tend to be vaguer than their Theravada counterparts, which also leads to a similar situation with regards to those that rate said to have realized it. The four noble persons of the Theravada tradition are not found in Zen, with the exception of the arahant, and that in a usually negative context. The ideal Buddhist in zen, and Mahayana Buddhism in general, is the bodhisattva, a word reserved for someone on their way to becoming a buddha, as with the historical Buddha prior to his enlightenment. A bodhisattva in the Mahayana sense of the term is someone that puts off full enlightenment so that they will be reborn again and again until all other sentient beings are enlightened also. This ideal is promoted above that of the arahant (or arhat in Sanskrit), and is a bone of contention for many Theravada and Mahayana Buddhists. For this writer, they mere labels, or concepts of what we might be, and both can will short of our true nature if clung to, for enlightenment is the ending of clinging.

Anyway, let's return to the subject of satori, or enlightenment, for that is the focus of this article. In Zen, satori is often referred to as the realization of emptiness (sunyata in Sanskrit, ku in Japanese), which is an extension of the understanding of not-self (anatta) found in the Pali canon. All things are empty of self, and to see this completely is to be awakened to the truth. This may sound somewhat pessimistic or negative upon first hearing, and if it is only a concept or belief, it may remain so. However, those that have claimed to realize satori have described it as a great freedom from suffering and unhappiness. There is no longer the delusion of anyone 'at home' to suffer, so one lives in this world without any angst or regrets. When seen this way, satori seems anything but pessimistic or negative; quite the contrary!

The way to achieve enlightenment in Zen is not that different to that found in the Pali Canon, with an emphasis on meditation and living a virtuous life. The eightfold path is also there, although often not highlighted as much, and a long training is usually required for a deep-set awakening to be achieved. The role of the Zen master is paramount, with the aforementioned transmission taking place between such a master and his pupil. It is not enlightenment that is transmitted, however, for this is impossible; rather, it is recognition that is bestowed by the master, and a 'transmission' of authority within the tradition to teach others in Zen. Because of this close relationship, Zen masters have been noted to resort to 'shock tactics' such as shouting or even mild physical violence to inspire awakening in their disciples; something that would never take place in the Theravada tradition.

Zen Buddhism has also developed the koan as a method to stimulate satori in its followers. This is a phrase or short story normally from the records of the Zen masters that is used to create a condition of mind whence all discursive thought is transcended and the Zennist breaks through into a spontaneous realization their true nature. A famous example of a koan is "Show me your face before your parents were born." (We'll return to this 'original face' a little later.) Alternatively, there is the practice of shikatanza ('nothing-but-precisely-sitting'), when the aspirant sits without any particular focus of meditation, but simply rests in their 'buddha-nature' (a Mahayana term meaning nirvana). These, and other unique methods have been developed in Zen Buddhism to assist its practitioners to achieve satori, which continues to be of primary importance in this unique sect to the modern day.

So, in this article, both Theravada and Zen Buddhism are shown to have enlightenment at their very heart, even up to modern times. Sure, if one travels to Thailand, traditionally a Theravada Buddhist nation, monks and laity will be seen to be engaged in rituals, festivals, superstitions, and much else not directly concerned with awakening; in Japan, also, Zen priests are often concerned with performing rituals such as funeral rites, and lay Zennists are not all striving to see true nature, let alone actually seeing it. But, on the other hand, seek out a forest monastery in Thailand, or a Zen mountain monastery, and enlightened folk are waiting to instruct you. Moreover, in small groups and centers across both countries - and beyond - enlightenment is waiting to be pointed put…if you want it, that is. Which brings us to the final part of this article, and by far the most important: seeing the original face. This isn't solely to be read about, however; you need t follow the instructions to benefit from them. So, please play along and see what happens.

Point at what's in front of you. It may well include a computer screen, a wall, a window, or a million other things. But, whatever's there, please point now. Notice the colours, shapes, sizes, and dimensions of what's there. Recognize the sheer opacity of it all. (If your seeing window, noticing the solidity of what's behind it.) Now point at your body, again taking the time to note the colours, shapes, sizes, and dimensions present, as well as its opaqueness. Now, the next part of this exercise, please be totally honest. Point at where your face is. What do you see? Does it have colours, shapes, size, and dimensions? Is it opaque…or transparent? Is there a person's face where your looking from now, or a spaciousness that's lacking in any features to call your own? Is what you see there the 'original face' of Zen Buddhism, and the unconditioned of Theravada Buddhism? Is, indeed, a thing, or rather a no-thing free of features or conditioning? If your answers to these queries is an empirical yes, then congratulations, for surely you've just awakened to your true nature, and are now on the way to enlightenment.

Now, there may be many objections to the above exercise. However, how many of them are based on our ideas of what enlightenment is, or must be? How many of them come from the feeling that this can't be it? How many are born of fear or attachments to who we believe we are? But, ideas, feelings, fears, and beliefs cannot be allowed to obscure what's as plain as the nose on this original face, can they? And, yes, there may be a vague blob of a nose detectable in your view, but does it negate the emptiness that lies behind it? Furthermore, what is in this emptiness if not your face? Well, isn't it the face or faces of whoever may be present with you in this present moment? Or, it's the myriad things of this universe that occur in your facelessness, your capacity. Ideas also arise here, as do feelings and attachments, but they are unable to affect this central emptiness, which remains peaceful and without suffering. Enlightenment, anyone?

*All major terms in italics can be looked up in A Buddhist Glossary; just click the link beneath the banner at the top of this page.

Ajahn Chah Day 2012

2012-01-17T00:00:00.000+07:00

The wonderfully wise Ajahn Chah

The venerable Ajahn Chah (1918-1992) was a great & wise monk who lived most of his life as a forest monk in Ubon Ratchathani in Northeast Thailand. He taught thousands of people, Thai & foreigner alike; monks, nuns, and laity gathered to listen to his insightful talks on the Dharma. Many of these talks have been collected into books, and translated into several different languages (he taught in Thai & Isan, the latter a fusion of Thai & Lao spoken in Northeast Thailand). The excerpts in bold found interspersed with photographs in this article are from one such book called 'No Ajahn Chah;' a link to it in PDF format is at the bottom of this post, along with a link to the gallery from where the photos were obtained (all free).

I did not have the pleasure of meeting Ajahn Chah, but have learned (and unlearned) much from reading translations of his wise Dharma talks. I have also met people who knew him, including Ajahn Sumedho, his most senior foreign (non-Thai) disciple, along with other forest monks. Living in Ubon Ratchthani, I have the opportunity to visit Ajahn Chah's main monastery, Wat Nong Pah Pong, which lies just outside the city in a small forest. There are now monasteries all over the world in the lineage of Ajahn Chah, in countries such as America, Britain, Australia, New Zealand, Canada, Italy, and Switzerland, as well as many in his native Thailand.

January 16th this year was the twentieth anniversary of Ajahn Chah's death, and, as with every year, there was a gathering of monks, nuns, and laity at Wat Nong Pah Pong to commemorate his life & teachings. It can be a moving experience to share food, chant, meditate, and talk with so many others who felt inspired to one degree or another by this great monk. And yet, reading & reflecting on the book that is quoted below, it's enlightening to recall that ultimately there was no Ajahn Chah, as he once said himself, but rather natural processes arising and falling away in emptiness. And this is true for me and for you, too, dear reader; isn't it?

When one does not understand death, life can be very confusing.

The Buddha told his disciple Ananda to see impermanence, to see death with every breath. We must know death; we must die in order to live. What does this mean? To die is to come to the end of all our doubts, all our questions, and just be here with the present reality. You can never die tomorrow; you must die now. Can you do it? If you can do it, you will know the peace of no more questions.

Ajahn Chah sweeping the monastery grounds

If our body really belonged to us, it would obey our commands. If we say "Don’t get old," or “I forbid you to get sick," does it obey us? No! It’s take no notice, We only rent this "house," not own it. If we think it does belong to us, we will suffer when we have to leave it. But in reality, there is no such thing as a permanent self, nothing un- changing or solid that we can hold on to.

What is Dharma? Nothing isn’t.

Ajahn Chah receiving alms

Regardless of time and place, the whole practice of Dharma comes to completion at the place where there is nothing. It’s the place of surrender, of emptiness, of laying down the burden. This is the finish.

Conditions all go their own natural way. Whether we laugh or cry over them, they just go their own way. And there is no knowledge of science which can prevent this natural course of things. You may get a dentist to look at your teeth, but even if they can fix them, they still finally go their natural way. Eventually even the dentist has the same trouble. Everything fall apart in the end.

Ajahn Chah feeding a fellow inhabitant of the forest

When those who do not understand the Dharma act improperly, they look all around to make sure no one is watching. But our karma is always watching. We never really get away with anything.

We don’t meditate to see heaven, but to end suffering.

Ajahn Chah meditating in the forest

Remember you don’t meditate to get anything, but to get rid of things. We do it not with desire but with letting go. If you want anything, you won’t find it.

The real foundation of the teaching is to see the self a being empty. But people come to study the Dharma to increase their self-view, so they don’t want to experience suffering or difficulty. They want everything to be cosy. They may want to transcend suffering, but if there is still a self, how can they ever do so?

Ajahn Chah & some western monks under his guidance

(The famous Ajahn Sumedho is the tall one on the right.)

If you let go a little, you will have a little peace. If you let go a lot, you will have a lot of peace. If you let go completely, you will have complete peace.

Anyone can build a house of wood and bricks, but the Buddha taught us that sort of home is not our real home. It’s a home in the world and it follows the ways of the world. Our real home is inner peace.

Ajahn Chah became increasingly frail over the years

If you see certainty in that which is uncertain, you are bound to suffer.

You are your own teacher. Looking for teachers can’t solve your own doubts. Investigate yourself to find the truth – inside, not outside. Knowing yourself is most important.

The last decade of his life he couldn't speak or walk

No one and nothing can free you but your own understanding.

Look after your virtue as a gardener takes care of his plants. Do not be attached to big or small, important or unimportant. Some people want shortcuts. They say, "Forget concentration, we’ll go straight to in- sight; forget virtue, we’ll start with concentration." We have so many excuses for our attachments.

Ajahn Sumedho (centre) & other monks at Ajahn Chah's funeral

The Buddha taught to lay down those things that lack a real abiding essence. If you lay everything down you will see the truth. If you don’t, you won’t. That’s the way it is. And when wisdom awakens within you, you will see truth wherever you look. Truth is all you’ll see.

The above quotations are excerpted from the book 'No Ajahn Chah' which is available to view or download at the following link: No Ajahn Chah

The photographs of Ajahn Chah are taken from the following site, where there are many more wonderful images of him: Ajahn Chah Photo Gallery

Review: The Art of Disappearing by Ajahn Brahm

2012-01-07T00:00:00.000+07:00

Ajahn Brahm is both an engaging and challenging Dharma speaker, and both qualities are in abundance in 'The Art of Disappearing: The Buddha's Path to Lasting Joy.' This book has an extremely accessible conversational style, which Ajahm Brahm is well known for, but it also throw's down the gauntlet to the reader in no uncertain terms. The author states that if we want the 'lasting joy' of Nirvana, we need to dedicate ourselves to wholehearted practice, especially in our meditation. Anything less, he warns us, and we don't know where we will end up, either in this life or lives to come.

So, this book is not a primer on Buddhist teachings, nor is it a how-to guide to meditation, these aspects are dealt with respectively in detail in Ajahn Brahm's earlier works 'Who Ordered this Truckload of Dung?' and 'Mindfulness, Bliss, and Beyond.' The present work can be considered a step on from the second book above, being a series of instructions and encouragements to those already involved in meditation practice, and who wish to deepen their samadhi (meditative concentration) and wisdom. It was not written by the ajahn, as such, but was transcribed and edited from talks which he spontaneously gave on previous occasions.

Ajahn Brahm uses the Tipitika, or Buddhist scriptures, as his primary source of reference for his teachings, and begins this book by referring to the need for the recognition and understanding of dukkha (suffering) as a prelude to enlightenment. He skillfully advises his reader to disengage from the world to the extent required for the development of meditation and wisdom. He also discusses how a reduction of thinking can create the peace and space conductive to the rising of insight, and unlike most meditation teachers, he likes to discuss the jhana, or deep concentrative states promoted by the Buddha:

"When the body disappears and you experience stillness deep inside, it's a jhana state. In that jhana state you're disengaged from the world outside - the five senses have vanished. Sometimes this is called being 'aloof' from the world of the senses. In fact it's more than aloofness; it's complete disengagement, the complete ending of the world. Now you know the meaning of vanishing, of things not being there anymore."

('The Art of Disappearing,' p.13)

Gently bringing the contents of consciousness into focus using nonjudgmental mindfulness is a strong theme of this book. Ajahn Brahm emphasizes that to try to force the mind from its natural tendencies to focus on a set meditation subject can result in tension and, conversely, a reaction against such forcefulness that results in a lack of mindfulness. Instead, he suggests, we attend to what the mind is focusing on without indulging in it, starving it of the fuel of interest that it needs to continue. Soon enough it will fall away by itself, and then we can turn attention to the original subject of our meditation.

The author also brings to our notice to the nimitta, which he describes as "a radiant state" (Ibid. p.73). This occurs in meditation when the mind is no longer aware of any of the five senses and instead turns its attention on itself, free of thoughts. He says that a nimitta is beautiful and blissful, a wonderful state of mind free of suffering, which is known as pabhassara cite. It is not, however, enlightenment, but more a foretaste established through this shutting out (or letting go) of sensory interference. However, even with regards to this, Ajahn Brahm has a warning or his reader:

"Only now do you have a real understanding of what the Buddha taught. You also know why people sometimes think that the phrase pabhassara citta, the radiant mind, means 'original mind,' 'the essence of all being,' 'God,' or 'cosmic consciousness' instead. It's because a nimitta is such an extraordinarily beautiful thing. But when you have the insight gained from experiencing nimitta again and again and you know it fully, you'll realize it is a mistake to think of the radiant mind as a higher power or a transcendent reality. The radiance is simply the face of your mind when the five senses have been completely pacified."

(Ibid. p.73)

Continuing this uncompromising presentation of Dharma, Ajahn Brahm later states that the ultimate aim of Buddhist practice is to let go of mind-consciousness as well. This somewhat disturbing suggestion is found in the Tipitaka itself, and the author makes it clear that this is the end of the eightfold path established by the Buddha. It isn't the destruction of the self, however, for as Ajahn Brahm says, there is no self in the first place; it is the illusion of self that is let go of in Nirvana, and this is the end of the Buddhist path. This is, he states, the realization of anatta ('not-self'), one of the central teachings of Buddhism.

Sprinkled through the book are recollections of the author from his own life of being a Buddhist monk. These include references to his time practicing in the forest monastery of Ajahn Chah in Northeast Thailand, very near the reviewer's present home. One such episode is when his master was considering sending Ajahn Brahm to a small, quiet branch monastery near close to the Cambodian border. At this time, however, the Khmer Rouge were very active in Cambodia, and Ajahn Chah changed his mind, fearing that his western disciple might be kidnapped, or worse. The latter uses this story to illustrate how awareness of his own mortality strengthened his practice. (Ibid. p.113) Elsewhere, he mentions the following:

"To overcome attachment to the body, we do practices such as the contemplation of the thirty-one parts of the body. In Thailand, you might even go to an autopsy. Of all the autopsies I've seen - and I've seen some gross ones - the one that shook me the most was that of a young man of the same age as me. Because he was my age, I could identify with his body. As the autopsy unfolded I saw the repulsive nature of the body, and I knew that mine had to be the same. It drove the message home: there is no value in attaching to the body."

(Ibid. p.119)

Ajahn Brahm discusses in depth cultivating the understanding that the body will get old, sick, and die, of which the above excerpt is an example. The wisdom that can grow out of such contemplation relates to the Buddha's teachings on suffering, which permeate the book. On a practical, interpersonal level, he also suggests that such insight can help us to be more sympathetic towards others, including those we don't particularly like, for we can see that they too are subject to old age, sickness, and death, like us. This down-to-earth application of Buddhist teachings and techniques is one of Ajahn Brahm's outstanding features as a teacher, and is very much to the benefit of his readers. Another wonderful example of this real life Buddhist wisdom is in the final excerpt below. In conclusion then, if you are serious about Buddhist practice, especially meditation, this book is an invaluable companion for your journey to your true self, the not-self that lies at the end of the Buddha's path.

"Living in Australia, I often see kangaroos fighting over the monastery's leftover food. You notice how greedy they are, just like human beings. But since you know that's the nature of the world and that you can't do anything about it, you just smile and let it go. In the same way, although you can do only so much about other people's suffering, you can pull out your own mental arrow and learn to be at peace. Then you know that the only way suffering is fully eliminated is through the freedom of never being reborn again.In the end, that's the only thing you can wish for. And indeed, wishing nibbana for yourself and others is the highest form of loving-kindness."

(Ibid. pp.130/131)

The above book is published by Wisdom Publications, and is available from their website at:

The Art of Disappearing

Review: Haiku, An Anthology of Japanese Poems

2011-12-27T00:00:00.000+07:00

What a delight this little book is. To hold it in the hand is a very pleasing experience to begin with: it is light (for a hardback), is not much bigger than an adult's hand, and is wrapped in a beautiful brown and gold cover, illustrated with a painting by Sakai Hoitsu (see above). The contents of the book are even more impressive. As the title makes clear, it is a collection of haiku translated from the Japanese by Addiss and the Yamamotos. And what an excellent job they've done! Divided into three sections, 'The Pulse of Nature,' Human Voices,' and 'Resonance and Reverberation,' Haiku also features brief biographies of all the poets featured, as well as black and white prints by Japanese artists including the famous Zen priest Hakuin Ekaku. Beautiful.

The Introduction gives the reader a concise account of the structure of haiku, its history in Japan, and an argument advocating a somewhat freer translation of haiku into English than the traditional seventeen syllables. In the Japanese originals of the poems that appear in this book, the standard form was seventeen sound units which amount to short syllables, so the word haibun consists of three such units, hai-bu-n (the final 'n' counting as a separate unit). And, as explained in the Introduction, Japanese uses more syllables to represent the same content than English generally does, so extra words are needed to pad out English translations of the japanese originals if seventeen syllables are rigorously kept to. The editors of this work have decided, wisely in this reviewers opinion, to ignore the seventeen syllable rule, and focus more on accurate and poetic renderings of the haiku.

To illustrate the above issues, the Introduction skillfully uses the example of the most famous of these poems, the 'ancient pond' verse of the greatest of all haiku poets, Basho (1644-1694). It argues that a faithful translation of this poem requires less syllables than in the Japanese original, coming up with the following on p.viii:

Old pond

a frog jumps in -

the sound of water

Other examples are used to elucidate the reader on other issues involved in the translation work, especially with regards to whether using a parallel translation (line-by-line), or a freer form where the line oder doesn't correspond with the original. The view here is that it depends on the particular poem, with some a parallel rendering works well, with others less literal version is required. Returning to Basho's frog haiku, the book contains a nice, albeit brief, exploration of the possible meanings of the piece; "old (the pond) verses new (the jumping), a long time span and immediacy, sight and sound, serenity and the surprise of breaking it" (paraphrased from p.xi). So much contained in so few words - the beauty of haiku!

Moving on to the main part of the book, the poems and black and white prints, the book really excels itself. The editors have chosen a wide range of haiku by many of the great poets from Japan's rich cultural history. Basho is joined by the other three masters of the form: Buson (1716-1783), Issa (1763-1827), and Shiki (1867-1902). Alongside these superstars of the haiku world, there are over ninety other poets featured. A real haiku fest in such a small book! Here's some more samples from the book featuring the three masters mentioned above:

An old well

falling into its darkness

a camellia

(Buson, p.5)

Charcoal fire -

my years dwindle down

just like that

(Issa, p.124)

Killing the spider

then so lonely -

evening cold

(Shiki, p.150)

Taken in turn from each of the three sections referred to earlier, these poems each contain the subtle nuances of meaning not always apparent in the succinct nature of haiku. And in doing so, these haiku and the others in the book reflect the influence of Buddhism on the Japanese psyche and arts. Buson's camellia, for example, speaks of death and the unknown, whilst Issa's verse clearly refers to the Buddhist understanding of impermanence and aging, whilst Shiki talks of morality and regret…and the reader of this review can surely come up with his or her own interpretations also. This ambiguity inherent in haiku is one of their attractions, and for some, a source of infuriating vagueness. And yet, if this book is read cover to cover, this reviewer challenges even the staunchest of haiku-haters to deny the meanings and beauty contained in them!

Returning for a moment to the Buddhist sentiments that through much haiku, we might briefly explore what value this book has spiritually. Haiku speak of the moment, this moment, as experienced by the poet. In doing so, they give the reader a glimpse into eternity. For, eternity or the Deathless as the Buddha called it, is only ever known in this current present moment; it is never the product of memory or imagination. The haiku in this book have the capacity to jolt the reader into this current moment, leaving her or him with a taste of the eternal. Hopefully, this will be realized by the reader of this review with the batch of quoted poems given below:

The autumn wind

takes the shape

of pampas grass

(Kigin, p.73)

At the sound of the sea

the sunflowers open

their black eyes

(Yuji, p.48)

How delightful

walking on dewy grasses -

straw sandals

(Haritsu, p.150)

The above book is published by Shambhala Publications, and is available from their website at:

Haiku, An Anthology of Japanese Poems

Wind Teaches Dharma

2011-12-17T00:00:00.000+07:00

"One monk said that the wind was moving, while another monk said the banner was moving. They argued on and on, so I went forward and said, ‘It is not the wind that is moving, and it is not the banner that is moving. It is your minds that are moving.’"
Huineng (638-713), Sixth Patriarch of Zen Buddhism

The wind is a great teacher. Just like the Buddha, Ajahn Chah or Zen Master Bankei, it teaches us the Dharma. Unlike those teachers it doesn't use words, however, nor does it have what we would normally define as a language to communicate its wisdom. Yet, in its own subtle way it's constantly teaching us the way things are, using what we might name 'the language of the wind.'

We might understandably wonder what form this language takes if it doesn't involve words. Well, we humans use languages that have no words when we pull a face to indicate displeasure, produce or listen to music to inspire pleasure, or construct a building in a specific style. (A Gothic cathedral with all its angels and devils communicates very different messages to us than a modern, shiny hospital. Although the inhabitants of both would claim to deeply care about people.)

So, how exactly does the wind teach us? We can't even see the wind, although we can hear it, especially clearly in a gale, for example. We can also feel it on our skins & in our hair as it blows past us. And, although we can't see it directly, we can see the effects of the wind, which I am enjoying as I write these words, occasionally glancing up to see the treetops waving back and forth as the gentle breeze plays with them.

Now, accepting that all this is the 'language' of the wind, why would interpret it as pertaining to the Dharma, particularly. Surely, we can understand this language in a variety of ways, not necessarily in terms of the Dharma. This is true, as it it of anything in life. We can look at the surface of an act involving thought, word, or deed and understand it in that specific context, so that those rustled trees over there simply mean that it's a windy day. But, we can look a little deeper into the implications of what we are seeing, and this what we do when we listen to the Dharma rather than to other aspects of life's many modes of communication.

Returning to those trees for a moment, I will pause in this commentary…the wind manipulates them, and teaches of the continual flux of this universe. They aren't still for a moment, swishing this way and that, in a kind of existential dance. Sometimes they slow down, only to speed up and become almost manic in their movements, all directed by the invisible wind. This characteristic of the wind, that it is unseeable, speaks of another important fact of life, which is that there are unseen forces at work, which we are usually (if not constantly!) unaware of. They are not only active in the wind, but also in everything else that exists in this wondrous cosmos, including in these bizarre constructions that we call our bodies, and which we normally (mistakenly, according to the Dharma), identify with.

Back to this present moment, and the wind softly caresses the skin of this body that sits on the balcony typing with its tapping fingers. It soothes the mind within this body, like an amorphous masseuse tenderly kneading limbs and head. It teaches that the body is part of nature, linked to it in invisible connections that include the wind's breath. But, learning the Dharma is not all pleasant feelings, and when the wind blows over those garments hanging from a clothes horse, annoyance arises in the mind. This too, is a teaching, for it is the same wind that blows on those clothes and this body. So, too, should the mind reflect the balance between what it deems good and bad, for such ideas do not always correspond to the way the world actually is.

Taking a moment to reflect on the quotation from the Platform Sutra at the top of this piece, Huineng's wisdom shines forth as if born on the wind itself, blowing away our delusion. He points to the discriminating mind that will argue over just about anything, including whether the wind is moving or those treetops over there are moving. Pointing directly to the mind that is moving, Huineng brings our attention to that which never moves, what he called our 'Original Face.' This Face, we might call it Buddha-face or even No-face, is what sees the waving trees; it is the space in which those branches and leaves have their being.

All this talk of wind-blown trees takes me back to my childhood and early teens when I used to gaze out of my bedroom window at the tree in my family's front garden. Bathed in the yellow light of street lamps, it was a real attention-grabber. Somewhat hypnotic in its movements, the tree flowed in the wind, its disparate parts unified in a graceful undulation of golden leaves. I would find my mind silenced in these moments, awareness tied to the tree's fluctuations. A state of what Buddhism calls samadhi, or concentration, would ensue. This was my meditation at that time, long before I explored the teachings of the Buddha. And, what the wind taught on those quiet evenings long ago isn't so different from the Buddha's own words of wisdom that I later came to discover.

A bell tinkles in the wind, bringing attention back from the mind's reveries and to this actual moment. It was the mind that was moving after all! The shadow of a flag catches attention, reminiscent of an early satori, or enlightenment, experience from my late teens, when a fluttering plastic bag caught on a branch of a tree brought about a sudden awakening. Each moment, which is of course this moment, is a chance to glimpse, or better still rest in, this 'Original Face' that watches fluttering leaves, bags, or banners. And those trees, that bell, or a fluid shadow can all call to attention the Dharma, the way things really are, as they arise and dissolve in this No-face, this 'Buddha Space.' Time to go 'inside' now, the wind's getting cold!

Storm Haiku

2011-12-07T00:00:00.000+07:00

The clouds have returned

With the promise of more rain

Birds sing from afar

Thunder cracks the mind

Wide open to the heavens

No salvation here

The torrential rain

Falls through present awareness

Into this no-thing

This mind is the rain

Falling in its own knowing

Eternal downpour

Rain floods awareness

Barriers utterly breached

In a surge of sound

Rain is splattering

Between the door's metal mesh

Calling out, "Awake!"

The rainstorm passes

Distant thunder fading out

Dogs now relaxing

Sun replaces rain

Ants swarm the corpse of a worm

Such transiency!

Peace is an absence

Of wind-battered mind moments

August rains reprieve

Review: A Torch Lighting the Way to Freedom by Dudjom Rinpoche

2011-11-27T14:58:00.001+07:00

This is a monumental work of over 350 pages. It is not its length that makes it monumental, however, but rather the depth and scope of its author's knowledge on the subjects contained within it. It is subtitled 'Complete Instructions on the Preliminary Practices,' and is a primer for practitioners of Tibetan Vajrayana Buddhism.

Its author, His Holiness Dudjom Rinpoche (1904-1987), also known as Jigrel Yeshe Dorje, was considered to be a tulku (reincarnated master) of a previous teacher also called Dudjom Rinpoche. Born in Central Tibet, after fleeing to India in the wake of the communist Chinese invasion, he was made head of the Nyingma school of Tibetan Buddhism by H.H. the Dalai lama. He wrote copious amounts on Buddhist teachings and travelled widely to share his wisdom, spending his final years establishing a Buddhist centre in France. The book itself was translated from the Tibetan by the Padmakara Translation Group, who have also done a really good job.

The book itself is a commentary on the preliminary practices (ngondro in Tibetan) that Dudjom Pinpoche considered indispensable to the realization of the Great Perfection (Dzogchen: the primordial state of mind that leads to enlightenment). It is divided into two parts, the first of which instructs the reader on how to identify and relate to a teacher, or guru. It states that, "teachers should be individuals who have perfectly tamed their minds by means of the three superior trainings - the training in discipline, the training in concentration, and the training in wisdom. They should have great learning as a result of having extensively studied the three baskets - the Vinaya, Sutra-pitaka, and Abhidharma-pitaka - which expound the essential points of these three trainings. They should have seen the way things truly are unmistakably and be eloquent in conveying their own experience of it to their disciples, combining scriptural authority and reasoning." ('A Torch Lighting the Way to Freedom, p.10)

These are high standards by which to judge a teacher of Dharma, but on the Tibetan Buddhist tradition it is of paramount importance as the guru will guide the disciple to their own spiritual awakening, and such a teacher should indeed have excellent levels of morality, meditative states, and wisdom. Moreover, Dudjom Rinpoche states that the teacher should be viewed as, "the embodiment of all the Buddhas" (Ibid. p.32) and that they should be shown immense respect, as illustrated in the next extract:

"For this reason, simply stepping into their shadow has negative consequences as serious as demolishing a stupa. Stepping over their belongings - their shoes, seat, clothes, horse, eating bowl, and other everyday articles, their umbrella, canopy, and so forth - is just as bad, so always be careful to avoid such things."

(ibid. p.33)

The second part of the book, which forms the majority of its pages, describes the preliminary stages of the path towards enlightenment, elucidating various Buddhist teachings along the way. It starts by advising the student on how to begin each session of meditative practice with a visualization and recital of a text to support the visualization process. This practice ends with the following verse:

"The strength of my devotion inspires and delights the teacher,
And with a show of unbearable happiness,
he comes above the crown of my head, and as a cloud of bodhicitta,
Confers the empowerment of the enthronement of wisdom:
In the state of simultaneous realization and liberation I am Blessed."
(Ibid. p.53)

The next section of the book reminds the reader how fortunate they are to have had a human birth in an age when the Buddha's teachings are accessible. This serves as an impetus to the practitioner to have heedfulness and diligence in their application of the teachings to their life. A common practice in many schools of Buddhism is reflecting on death and impermanence. Dudjom Rinpoche next introduces such reflections, which not only lead to understanding of the way things are, but also give extra impetus to one's practice, being aware that death is waiting in the wings.

"The whole of the three worlds of existence is impermanent, moving and dissolving like clouds in Autumn that mass together are moment and disperse the next. Beings are born and die under the fickle control control of their good and bad deeds, manifesting in all kinds of ways like the choreographic movements of a skilled dancer. People's lives race by, swift and brief, like a flash of lightning in the sky that vanishes in an instant, or like a stream cascading down a mountainside."
(Ibid. p.74)

In Chapter 7, the book focuses on suffering in relation to cyclic existence and the six classes of beings that suffer. Dudjom Rinpoche refelcts upon the wheel of existence and states that his reader has had countless previous births and lived in every place that there is. He writes that throughout these births all kinds of sufferings have been endured.

The reader is directed to reflect upon those inhabiting the six lower realms, which include four kinds of hellish beings, hungry spirits, and animals. After this, he skillfully leads us through the sufferings in the higher realms, which include those of humans, demigods, and gods. Dudjom Rinpoche next relates the three kinds of suffering, using the classic descriptions found in the Pali Canon. He states:

"So whatever kind of rebirth we take - high or low - in these three worlds of cyclic existence, we suffer as if ill and unceasingly wracked by pain. There is no chance of being happy even for a second. We should therefore feel deeply disillusioned with cyclic existence, thinking, "From now on, I must seek definite freedom, as if I were escaping from a dark dungeon." As the Great Master says,

However much effort you put into worldly activities, they are never finished;
Put your efforts into the Dharma and the job will be quickly done.
Activities concerned with cyclic existence, however good, bring ruin in the end;
The result of practicing the sublime Dharma can never be spoiled."
(Ibid. pp.114/115)

By the Great master, Dudjom Rinpoche makes reference to Padmasambhava, also known as Guru Rinpoche, and is traditionally credited with taking Vajrayana Buddhism to Tibet. He is constantly referred to in this present work, being quoted on numerous occasions, as are other great figures from Tibetan Buddhism. This is an essential part of the structure of the book, in which quotations are either used to illustrate Dudjom Rinpoche's remarks, or are commented on by him.

Further chapters in this book comprise of the following topics: cause and effect, taking refuge, arousing the mind to enlightenment, purifying negative actions, gathering the accumulations, and training in guru yoga. All are awarded the same meticulous attention as the earlier chapters decried above, and form a solid base on which to set one's application of the preliminary practices.

In the current review, it must be born in mind that the reviewer is not a Tibetan Buddhist, and has only a basic understanding of that great and lofty spiritual tradition. His Buddhist practice and studies have primarily derived from the Theravada & Zen traditions, and therefore whatever he writes here should be read with that understanding.

So, as to the (illusory?) appearance of the book, it's beautiful. Its durable hardback edition is in cream and amber with a typically stylish dust jacket by Shambhala Publications. There are numerous illustrations throughout, which are no doubt helpful when trying to do the visualizations that Dudjom Rinpoche teaches. The flow of the narrative is nice 'n' smooth, for which the Padmakara Translaion Group much take much credit, as well the author himself, who composed the work in his native Tibetan.

As to the teachings in the book, they too are presented with clarity, and even someone like this reviewer can follow the gist (if not the fine detail) of this work. here is one point to note, however: For those dedicated Tibetan Buddhists interested in the preliminary practices that it focuses on, it is surely an indispensable aid, but for the rest of us, it gives an interesting and inspiring insight into this aspect of the Tibetan tradition, but is apt to be somewhat confusing in places, if not actually superfluous to our needs.

For me, this is a book I will no doubt refer to from time-to-time for said inspiration, but it will not be forming the heart of my Buddhist practice henceforth. This said, there is a special quality to it which may be called 'the scent of enlightenment.' For, although it makes little direct reference to the awakened state, it does have the feel of a document born from the wisdom of an enlightened being.

The above book by Dudjom Rinpoche is published by Shambhala Publications, and is available from their website at A Torch Lighting the Way to Freedom

The Awkward Fact & Anattā

2011-11-12T18:13:00.001+07:00

Douglas Edison Harding: The Man With No Head

One of the biggest influences on my Buddhist practice was not a Buddhist, but he knew a lot about Buddhism, especially the Zen variety. His name was Douglas Harding, and I had the pleasure of meeting him quite a few times during the 1990s. Douglas was a warm, humorous, intelligent, articulate, generous, open man - the last quality of which is most immediately relevant here. You see, Douglas was, by his own admission, headless. Furthermore, this condition resulted in him being blown wide open to the world, not separated off from it by being encased in a head.

Now, you may protest that if the photograph above is indeed of the said Mr. Harding, then he most certainly did posses a head. And, Douglas would not have argued with you, as long as it was understood that it was from your perspective that he had a pinkish meatball plonked atop his body; for, he claimed that from his own experience, he did not. Douglas was so passionate about his decapitated state that he not only wrote a dozen major works on the subject but also travelled the world sharing his vision with anyone that cared to listen (or look).

In the extract below, Douglas does not discuss being headless, but rather focuses on the Nothingness that is seen where a head would be expected to be found. He refers it as "our Absence, our Void Nature or Emptiness," as well by other names, all of which he admits fall well short of the mark in describing exactly what this condition is like, which is the "awkward fact" of enlightenment. And, as he spent decades emphasizing, it is to be experienced rather than believed in or philosophized about. This experience can pointed at with words, as well as a finger, and Douglas was extremely adept at this, as shown below.

"Three words cover it—seeing our Nothingness. It's that simple. Or, to drive the point home, turning our attention round 180° and looking into What we are looking out of, into our Absence, our Void Nature or Emptiness or Speckless Clarity, into our lack of characteristics, distinguishing marks, attainments, you-name-it. It is not—emphatically not—knowing all about Natureless Nature, or understanding it profoundly, or believing in it sincerely, or even feeling it acutely, but seeing it with such finality and such intimacy that we see this Absence which we are and are this Absence which we see. But alas, how liable even the most apt words are to complicate what is, after all, simplicity itself!

The awkward fact is that this Experience, which is none other than the substratum of all experience, is impossible to describe. It's as ineffable and incommunicable as the redness of red or the sweetness of honey or the smell of wild violets. Try telling a man colour-blind from birth what purple is. Well, telling him about his Empty Core is even more futile. Somehow you must get him to look in for himself at himself by himself instead of just out at you. Then and only then nothing could be easier or plainer, more blazingly self-evident to him, than his Nothingness, his disappearance in your favour.

However, three things can be said, and need to be said here, about this essential in-seeing.

First, precisely because it's void of all qualities of its own, because there's Nothing to it, it is for all beings of all grades and of all worlds one and the same. There are no angles or perspectives on This, no variations. There are no preliminary or private views or privileged showings, no more enlightened or less enlightened versions of This, no heights to mount to or fall away from, and certainly no religious or spiritual or aesthetic qualities to cultivate.

Second, (and for the same reason) one's "first fleeting glimpse" of one's Nature doesn't differ at all from one's "latest and clearest and most sustained seeing" of that Nature. No matter how brief or how sustained it may be, this Experience is unique among all experiences in that it has no degrees of clarity or intensity or familiarity. It's as if every time it happens happens to be the first time. Like it or not, there's no encouraging upturn, never any progress to plot on one's spiritual progress chart. Either you see This or you don't. Here's the one skill you can't get better at, but only exercise more frequently and for longer periods.

Third, it follows that, whoever and wherever and whenever you may be, your Inside Story is the plainest of all plain tales, and identical with the Inside Story of all creatures. So that to see What you really are is not only to see What they really are but to be What they really are. Beyond all doubt you are me and him and her and it, and all the rest. And at once you have hit on the answer to all the loneliness and alienation in the world. You rest on the Ground of Being and of all loving and caring. Secretly you are healing, along with your own wounds, the wounds of this wounded world."

(Douglas Harding, 'The Experience and the Meaning.')

Now, this "Absence" can be experienced, it is at the very core of our being, and it reveals the complete interconnectedness of life. Is this not, in Buddhist parlance, anatta, or 'not-self?' The Buddha taught that everything we take to be the self is in truth not. Buddhist meditation is designed in part to reveal this profound realization step-by-step, aggregate-by-aggregate. (The aggregates are the five 'heaps' that the Buddha divided the human condition into: body, feeling, perception, mental formations, & consciousness.) When this is fully seen, there is nothing of the ego-self left, only No-thing, full of the world.

Moreover, just as many great Zen masters have claimed, such as two of my favourites, Huang Po & Bankei, "Nature" is immediately realizable if only we dare to look within with honesty & awareness. (After an initial glimpse, we may need to cultivate this "in-seeing" if we wish to fully benefit from it, however.) Another parallel Douglas' experience has with Buddhism is his encouragement that we look for ourselves, and that we are our own authorities on what's going on where we are, not Douglas. This echoes the Buddha's declaration that the teaching (the expression of No-thing) is to investigated & decided on by each of us, not to be blindly followed.

With the above advise fresh in mind, let's explore the three things that Douglas was so keen to be said (and heard). Firstly, that this No-thing is for all to be discovered and lived from. This is clearly in line with the Buddhist attitude that all beings can be led to enlightenment. Indeed, looking back and seeing this Emptiness, it is evident that it is full of the world with all its suffering. It is capacity for all to be, and also is aware of how unenlightened state causes so much anguish, and reaches out to help those in the slough of despond.

Douglas' second important point was that the first glimpse of No-thing does not differ in the least to more "sustained seeing." This statement appears to be more problematic than the first one, for in Buddhist traditions there are stages of enlightenment described. In the Theravada tradition, for example, there are four levels of awakened beings described, with only the highest (arahant) being considered completely enlightened. In the Zen tradition, there are degrees of awakening from initial glimpses called kensho to the fuller, more complete experience known as satori. It is the experience of this author that the stages of enlightenment described in Buddhism are real, and yet at the same time the essential experience itself does not alter. Rather, it is the demise of the delusion of self within this experience that changes, eventually (and this part is taken on faith for now) dying away utterly. So, on this point, there are differences between Buddhism and Douglas' description of the Void, but the central realization appears the same.

Douglas' third important thing to be noted seems to have no conflict with the Buddha's teachings. Here, he says that the No-thing at my centre is the same as that which lies at yours, and all other creatures. This is identical with the view taken in Buddhism; the Buddha's Emptiness is the same as that of anyone else; it is the same No-thing that is at your core, my core, and all beings. This can be confirmed by looking within and checking with how Douglas sees his "Absence" and comparing it with one's own. (We can also do this with anyone that has awakened to this experience, for as Douglas so often said, we are all equal authorities on the vacuity at the heart of being.

Now, this article was deliberately entitled 'The Awkward Fact & Anatta' because the author wished to bring to the reader's attention to two issues: the incommunicable nature of our "Natureless Nature," and its similarity to the Buddhist understanding of anatta, or not-self. With reference to the former, it might be born in mind by the reader to take what they read with a pinch of salt, and of the latter to explore in experience (and not belief) to see if it is so or not.

The full article can be read on the Headless Way website here: The Experience and the Meaning.

Dr. Walpola Rahula on Anattā

2011-11-02T20:03:00.002+07:00

Venerable Dr. Walpola Rahula

"In the Dhammapada, there are three verses which are extremely important and essential in the Buddha’s Teaching. They are verses 277, 278, and 279 in Chapter 20:

277. All compound things are impermanent; those who realize this through insight- wisdom are freed from suffering. This is the path that leads to purity.
278. All compound things have suffering as their nature; those who realize this through insight-wisdom are freed from suffering. This is the path that leads to purity.
279. All states are without self; those who realize this through insight-wisdom are freed from suffering. This is the path that leads to purity.

The first two verses say: “All compound things (saṁkhārā) are impermanent” (sabbe saṁkhārā aniccā) and “All compound things have suffering as their nature” (sabbe saṁkhārā dukkhā). But the third verse says: “All states (dhammā) are without self” (sabbe dhammā anattā).

Here, it should be carefully observed that, in the first two verses, the word saṁkhārā “conditioned things, compound things” is used. But in its place in the third verse, the word dhammā “states” is used. Why does the third verse not use the word saṁkhārā “conditioned things, compound things” as in the previous two verses, and why does it use the term dhammā instead? Here lies the crux of the whole matter.

In the first two verses, the term saṁkhāra denotes the Five Aggregates, that is, all conditioned, interdependent, relative things and states, both physical and mental. If the third verse had said: “All saṁkhārā (“conditioned things, compound things”) are without self”, then, one might think that, although conditioned things are without Self, yet there may be a Self outside conditioned things, outside the Five Aggregates. It is in order to avoid misunderstanding that the term dhammā is used in the third verse.

The term “dhamma” is much wider than saṁkhāra. There is no term in Buddhist terminology wider than dhamma. It includes not only the conditioned things and states, but also the unconditioned, the Absolute, nibbāna. There is nothing in the universe or outside of it, good or bad, conditioned or unconditioned, relative or absolute, which is not included in this term. Therefore, it is quite clear that, according to this statement: “All states (dhammā) are without self”, there is no Self, no ātman, not only in the Five Aggregates, but nowhere else either outside them or apart from them.

This means, according to the Theravādin teaching, that there is no Self either in the individual (puggala) or in dhammas. The Mahāyāna Buddhist philosophy maintains exactly the same position, without the slightest difference, on this point, putting emphasis on dharma-nairātmya as well as on pudgala-nairātmya."

Note: As with many Westerners, my first exposure to the Buddha's teaching came through reading the Venerable Dr. Walpola Rahula's wonderful little book 'What the Buddha Taught.' The above is a section from the chapter entitled The Doctrine of No-Soul, and had a profound effect on me. (In fact, it still does today!) The entire book can be downloaded free of charge in PDF format from the kind people of the Charleston Buddhist Fellowship at the link below:

What the Buddha Taught

Forest Haiku

2011-10-23T17:02:00.002+07:00

On a visit to the International Forest Monastery here in Ubon Ratchathani, Thailand, the following words emerged from the quiet of the cool environs. A real haven from the noise of the world, this forested retreat reveals the inner stillness that is our true refuge. It is in this primordial silence of our being that perfect communication emerges, with the emphasis on the communing aspect of language.

Here in the forest
Trees cast a cooling shadow
Cicadas rejoice

Monks are pot-cleaning
An old layman attends them
As do the squirrels

A forest temple
Ants on the pavilion
As they make merit

We sit in the shade
I, in trendy white clobber
He, in forest robes

Sat with aching legs
There is this still silence
But for cicadas

Forest monastery
Sat talking with a bhikkhu
Leaves replace queries

Watching falling leaves
Is observing thoughts disperse
Into emptiness

Review: The Buddha Walks into a Bar...by Lodro Rinzler

2011-10-13T19:17:00.003+07:00

Reading this book elicits two main responses, one positive and one negative. On the positive side, the book uses language and concepts likely to appeal to (what I've lately started calling) youngsters, but on the negative side of things, it promotes unskilful modes of behavior such as taking intoxicants and promiscuous sex. It may be that in attempting the former, Lodro Rinzler couldn't avoid the latter - both in his own practice as well as in this book - but it is the view of this reviewer that it is possible to retain the essential elements of Buddhist practice, including the moral precepts, alongside a modern, 'hip' approach to the Dharma, as many others have shown.

But, let's be balanced in our assessment of 'The Buddha Walks into a Bar…' and start by looking at the positives. Rinzler has an engaging style of prose that captures and retains his reader's interest - at least this reader's! He writes as an informed practitioner of Shambhala Buddhism in the lineage of Chogyam Trungpa Rinpoche, and uses popular cultural icons such as the cartoon heroes of the 1980s TV show Super Friends including Superman, Batman, and Wonder Woman to grab our attention:

"In traditional Tibetan Buddhism, we have our own group of Super Friends. These are four mythical and nonmythical animals that represent different aspects of our training in wisdom and compassion. Individually, they are the tiger, the lion, garuda (part bird, part man), and dragon, and together they are known as the four dignitaries of Shambhala." (p.18)

These four dignitaries forms the structural backbone of the book, giving it both logical progression as well as an interesting Tibetan Buddhist focus for the teachings and practices. In the first part of the book, for example, Rinzler describes the qualities of the Tiger as discernment, gentleness and precision. He then uses the character Danny Ocean from the movie 'Ocean's Eleven' to explore the concept of discernment and the mandala as used in Tibetan Buddhism, pointing out that prior to the events in that film, the character probable would have needed to be pretty discerning in his future plans. Gentleness is dealt with in an original manner, also, which is discussed below. As for precision, he tells us that it is in the level of mindfulness in our everyday activities such as shopping, cooking, housework, clothes, and attending to the needs of the body that we use this quality to our advantage, as well as in more formal meditation settings.

"One way to cut through the busyness of your day is to include what are called the four exhilarations. Making sure we attend to these four aspects of our life give us energy to handle whatever comes our way. They are:
1. Eating
2. Sleeping
3. Meditating
4. Exercising
While these four actions are something of a no-brainer, most of us end up skipping meals or shortchanging our sleep, believing all the while that we can get away with it. It's as if we think our bodies won't notice. We keep saying, 'Tomorrow I'll do these things.' After months of this, we realize we are running out of tomorrows. We need to take care of our body today." (p.51)

Rinzler's talent for fusing Buddhist teachings with modern American culture is exemplified in the chapter entitled 'Being Gentle With Your Incredible Hulk Syndrome.' What a great title! Returning to a favorite of his - and my - childhood, comic book superheroes, he uses the Incredible Hulk as a way to illustrate how destructive emotions such as anger can be, leading us to examine how we can gently work with them, instead of fighting them, which is not the Buddhist way. As an experienced Buddhist teacher, Rinzler shares both traditional meditative instructions like Shamatha with more innovative practices such the 'Writing Exercise for Working with Emotions' given on pp.38-39. In this exercise, we are taught to meditate and then write about any emotions that arise therein, giving us the opportunity to reflect upon them and develop insight.

Later on in the book (pp.100-102) Rinzler gives an excellent guided loving-kindness meditation, a well known traditional Buddhist practice often familiar as metta mediation. (Metta is the Pali word used by Theravada Buddhists and maitri is the Mahayana Buddhist equivalent from the Sanskrit tongue used by Rinzler.) The author takes the reader through the various stages of this exercise in a typically bright and accessible manner, starting by wishing happiness to oneself and ending by doing the same to all beings. This is a practice that many Buddhists (and those that they come into contact with) benefit from greatly, and Rnzler does a good, succinct, job in describing it.

In another chapter called 'How to Apply Discipline Even When Your Head Gets Cut Off' Rinzler writes about the wise application of discipline in relation to virtue. He advises us that discipline should be accompanied with gentleness rather than aggression, something worth noting. As he remarks, virtue that lacks gentleness can result in a discipline being used as a weapon against others. [It can also be self-destructive, also, and not in the positive, Buddhist sense of ego-transcendence.] He quotes the fourteenth century Tibetan meditation master Ngulchu Thogme to this end, emphasizing that virtue combined with compassion is what's really gonna cut the (Buddhist) mustard, so to speak.

"If someone cuts off your head
Even when you have not done the slightest thing wrong,
Through the power of compassion
To take his misdeeds upon yourself
Is the practice of a bodhisattva."
(pp.86-87)

It is, however, on the point of virtue that this reviewer begins to find fault with 'The Buddha Walks into a Bar…' When discussing sex in relation to the third of the five basic precepts of Buddhism, he starts to wriggle in his commitment to what the Buddha (is widely accepted to have) taught. This precepts states that the Buddhist undertakes the commitment to abstain from engaging in sexual misconduct, which traditionally precludes promiscuous sex. But not for Rinzler. He states that he personally believes one night stands are fine if the motivation is seriously considered. (I wonder if he thinks the same about the other four precepts of avoiding killing, stealing, lying, and getting drunk or drugged. Oh, hang on, he does think getting drunk's okay, as we'll explore in a while!)

According to Rinzler, promiscuous sex is okay if "you are interested in having a one-night stand because you are too busy for a relationship, but you appreciate the other person and want to make a sexual connection with them." (p.81) He distinguishes this from thinking, "I'm drunk, I'm horny. They're hot." (Ibid.) Some might see the former as simply a more polite (or politically-correct) way of stating the latter! Rinzler adds that good conduct sexual might mean being very open with your partner or practicing safe sex. It definitely includes both, surely! Whilst agreeing with him that sexual contact with someone should include being "genuine" and "caring," it seems to this reviewer that it involves a whole lot more if we are really going to be wise and compassionate in our sexual behavior. That's why the Buddha gave us the third of the five precepts and why Buddhists have practiced it for the last two-and-half thousand years! A clue to Rinzler's motivations is revealed at the onset of the book, however, and it's worth quoting from the (wind)horse's mouth:

"Buddhism is often perceived as a moralistic religion. When I was in college, I would tell people that I was a Buddhist, and they would balk at the beer in my hand and the hot girl on my arm. They assumed that Buddhists aren't supposed to drink or have sex. But Buddhism is not some super-religion that is more puritanical than other religious traditions. Just as in other spiritual traditions, there are some Buddhists who chose a life of abstinence and others who do not. In fact, many Western Buddhist practitioners are wonderful drinkers and lovers." (p.25)

Does the latter include yourself, Mr. Rinzler, a self-confessed boozing Buddhist with a taste for "hot babes?" (Wink, wink) To deal with this paragraph briefly, let's start with the assumption that he refers to, that Buddhists aren't supposed to drink (alcohol) or have sex. The former is true (fifth precept) and the latter is true for monks and nuns. Buddhists shouldn't be "puritanical," it's true, but is keeping the five precepts necessarily being "puritanical?" As long as we're applying them in a compassionate way and not betting other people with them so as to appear superior, then they are to be applauded not ridiculed or belittled.

Although not an expert on the subject, a (very) small alarm bell rang when the following lines appeared: "There's a Tibetan word for Incredible Hulk syndrome, which is klesha. Klesha can be best translated as "afflictive emotion." (p.34) Now, klesha is a Sanskrit word (related to the Pali word kilesa), and not a Tibetan one. The Tibetan equivalent - a quick search on Google revealed - is nyon-mongs. Now, although this is a rather pedantic point, perhaps, it does raise the question of whether there are more important inaccuracies regarding Tibetan language or Buddhism in the book, which someone not well versed in such subjects would probably miss. Certainly, as presented below, the author doesn't appear to have a very good understanding of Theravada Buddhism.

Another less than praising appraisal of Rinzler's efforts is his apparent Mahayana snobbery when writing about Theravada (or 'Hinayana,' as he derogatorily insists on calling it) Buddhism. As most of us modern Buddhists know by now, Theravada ('Teaching of the Elders') is both the more widely-used title and the one preferred by Theravada Buddhists themselves for their form of Buddhism. (The latter is also the more accurate, as 'Hinayana' refers to many different kinds of early Buddhism, only one of which survived and later became what we now know as Theravada Buddhism.) And, yet, as every smug Mahayanist will gleefully tell you, their branch of Buddhism is the 'Great Vehicle' whereas the other one is the 'Lesser Vehicle.' Boring - and unenlightened - sectarianism!

"Turning your attention away from only taking care of yourself to taking care of others is the subtle distinction between the Hinayana (narrow vehicle) teachings and the Mahayana (greater vehicle) teachings. The distinction lies between the Hinayana view of being concerned only with our own path to awakening, and the Mahayana view of taking others' happiness as that path." (p.61)

As quoted above, Rinzler repeats the usual rubbish spouted by some Mahayanists that Theravada Buddhists are somehow more selfish than he and his Mahayana pals because they are only concerned with their own individual enlightenment and don't care about others'. Living in Thailand (a predominately Theravada Buddhist country) and knowing many people in the international Forest Sangha movement, I can loudly declare that this is not so! Many, many Theravada Buddhists care about and try to help others to their own awakening, just as many, many Mahayana Buddhists do. It's about time this uninformed sectarian bias was 'put to bed,' Mr. Rinzler. All this is all the more surprising since earlier in the book the author declares that we should avoid such negativity and see that "the Hinayana is a process of getting your act together." (p.19)

So, from this reviewer's perspective - one that straddles both Theravada and Mahayana Buddhist traditions in a spirit of modernity - 'The Buddha Walks into a Bar…' has some questionable attitudes on display, not just to 'Hinayanists,' but also in the area of Buddhist ethics. As suggested at the top of this article, it may be that Lodro Rinzler in his genuine attempts to be hip and up-to-date in his practice and teaching of Buddhism has lost sight of some of the essential ethical elements in Buddhism. However, this may be a reflection of the type of Buddhism he practices, Shambhala Buddhism, which has Tantric elements to it that might be less than stringent in its application of the Buddhist precepts. This latter point is mere speculation, and is most definitely not some kind of sectarian slandering! It may also be the case that as a Mahayana Buddhist, Rinzler feels a sense of superiority over Theravada (or Hinayana, as he calls it) Buddhism. If this is the case, it is to be regretted, as it will appear petty and sectarian to many readers.

In contrast to the above criticisms, Rinzler has managed to do what he sets out to do at the beginning of the book and present Buddhism in way that is likely to appeal to a younger readership. If this work does help to encourage young people to explore Buddhist teachings and practices, then it can be deemed a success, despite the reservations already expressed. Buddhism needs writers like Lodro Rinzler to promote to new generations of suffering beings in need of enlightenment, and to that end at least, this reviewer is wholeheartedly behind him.

The Buddha Walks into a Bar by Lodro Rinzler is published by Shambhala Publications, and is available from their website at The Buddha Walks into a Bar

Review: How to Train a Train a Wild Elephant by Jan Chozen Bays

2011-07-02T19:45:00.002+07:00

There are a plethora of Buddhist books based on its theories, ranging from general explanations of the Buddha’s teachings all the way to philosophical analysis of Buddhist concepts. As to the practical side of Buddhism, there are nowhere so many – perhaps because there many more talkers than walkers – and these works tend to focus on meditation rather than mindfulness exercises. In Jan Chozen Bay’s book 'How to Train a Wild Elelphant,' published by Shambhala Publications, we have an excellent resource of the latter, full to the brim of both traditional Buddhist practices and experimental ones, summed up in its subtitle: ‘And Other Adventures in Mindfulness.’

Bays begins with a useful introduction which explains, “Mindfulness is deliberately paying full attention to what is happening around you and within you – in your body, heart, and mind. Mindfulness is awareness without criticism or judgment.” (Quoted from ‘How to Train a Wild Elephant,’ p.2) She states that mindfulness conserves energy, trains the mind, creates intimacy and is good for the environment. She also emphasizes that mindfulness is not about thinking, but rather letting go of thoughts into an “open awareness” of the present moment.

There are 53 exercises, one for each week of the year. (Well, Bays is a Zen teacher!) Some of them are based on traditional methods, and even found in Buddhist scriptures, such as No.7 Mindfulness of Posture, No.22 Bottoms of the Feet, and No.32 This Person Could Die Tonight. The majority of activities are centered upon our modern lives, which is highly useful, of course. These include exercises involving driving, receiving phone calls, and a “media fast.” An example of a more modern exercise is No.3:

“Become aware of the use of “filler” words and phrases and try to eliminate them from your speech. Fillers are words that do not add meaning to what you’re saying, such as “um,” “ah,” “so,” “well,” “like,” “you know,” “kind of,” and “sort of.” Additional filler words enter our vocabulary from time to time. Recent additions might include “basically” and “anyway.” In addition to eliminating filler words, see if you can notice why you tend to use them – in what situations and for what purpose?” (Ibid. p.25)

As Bays admits herself, this exercise can be one of the most difficult to sustain. Indeed, if we have someone else to assist us, especially children who might see it as a game, we can ask them to be watchful of our speech also. As an English teacher and amateur linguist myself, this was the first exercise in the book that I chose to do. (As a seasoned Buddhist, however, many of the exercises, or variations of them, were already familiar to me.) Trying this exercise myself, I found a useful initial approach was to be aware of other people’s use of fillers, and when I became adept at this, turn attention around to the words coming out of this mouth. This is a very revealing activity, and as Bays encourages us to do, reflecting on why we use such language is an important aspect of this awareness practice.

Experimenting with such exercises so that they work well is something that Bays herself would surely condone, as this is the way that many of the mindfulness exercises were developed, evolving over time in the monastery of which she is the abbess. It is encouraging to read that these exercises have been used there for two decades. As she notes in the introduction: “This is one of the most wonderful aspects of the path of mindfulness and awakening. It has no end!” (Ibid. P.18)

It is worth noting that Bays does not present this book as a comprehensive guide to the Buddhist life, nor does it include an account of Buddhist doctrine – these are to found in other works. And, from this reviewer’s perspective, mindfulness exercises are most effective as part of the Noble Eightfold Path that the Buddha taught as a holistic approach to the alleviation and eventual transcendence of suffering. (Or, perhaps, within the framework of some other spiritual path.)

Bays touches upon the theme of the Buddhist Path here and there, but never delves too deeply into it. Perhaps a more explicit exploration (however brief) of the Buddhist Way might assist the general reader in gaining a greater grip on the context of these practices. For, when used as part of a broader spiritual discipline, these mindfulness exercises might have their fullest effect in helping us to realize enlightenment (the ending of suffering).

To her credit, Bays does include a section at the back of the book that describes some basic meditation instructions. She relates sitting practice to the mindfulness exercises in the book as a way to deepen the calmness and insights that emerge from such activity. In this appendix, she describes a basic mindfulness of breathing meditation, and advises her readers to do this meditation for 20 to 30 minutes per day. Sound advice, if slightly pithy. To explore sitting meditation further, the reader must look elsewhere, which is fair enough as this book is about mindfulness in everyday activities, and is well over 200 pages in length.

In conclusion, ‘How to Train a Wild Elephant’ is a superb compendium of exercises to enlighten the day of its readers. There is enough in this book to help the most inattentive of us to introduce mindfulness into our daily schedules, in both fun and interesting ways. Jan Chozen Bays has written a work that anyone, Buddhist or not, can utilize in their busy lives: “You can waste your whole life waiting for happiness to arrive from the outside. A quiet, basic contentment is our birthright; it is already inside of us. Mindfulness gives us a vehicle that can drive us straight to the place where it lives.” (Ibid. p.192)

How to Train a Train a Wild Elephant by Jan Chozen Bays is published by Shambhala Publications, and available from their website at: How to Train a Wold Elephant

3 Birthdays & a Farewell

2011-05-17T00:01:00.005+07:00

There are three announcementson Buddha Space today of varying import, depending on your perspective.Firstly, it’s Buddha Day, or Wesak, Visakha Puja, etc. Secondly, it’s mybirthday, and thirdly, it’s the birthday and 'death-day' of Buddha Space. So,it’s “Happy Buddha Day” to all Buddhists the world over. However you celebratethis momentous occasion (or however you don’t), I hope you have a peaceful andhappy time of it. The world needs as much peace & happiness as it can get.

This year, the full moon fallson the 17^th May, so it’s Visakha Puja, which alsohappens to be my birthday, the coincidence of which I was told was very auspicious by one Buddhistmonk, and met with silence from another: forest monks don’t let things go toyour head! This coincidence seems a good motivation to review my Buddhistpractice in relation to the Buddha’s teachings on being a good layman. Whichleads me to the third of today’s announcements.

It’s three Buddha Days ago that this blog waslaunched, and although its original aims were pretty high – “a space forexploring modern Buddhism” and “to examine the nature of the Buddha, of space,and of awareness itself via experience, as opposed to academic or philosophicalmeans ” – it’s done OK…hasn’t it? Anyway, it's time for a break from such efforts so that personal practice and other projects can be focused on instead, so there won't be any new articles on the blog for the foreseeable future, although readers' comments will be responded to. All the input to the blog from readers in the shape of comments andemails is much appreciated, and I wish you all well in your efforts, whether youcall yourselves ‘Buddhists’ or not. If I have anything to write as a final remark, it's to take a look at who's here once in a while, and to have compassion and kindness for the suffering beings that you encounter...including your 'self'!

Anyway, thank you again for your inspiration and encouragement over the lastthree years.

Mayall beings be happy.

Reflections on Bankei's 'Song of the Mind' Verses 45-46

2011-05-10T00:01:00.002+07:00

“The Pure Land

Where one communes at peace

Is here and now, it’s not remote

Millions and millions of leagues away

When someone tosses you a tea bowl

- Catch it!

Catch it nimbly with soft cotton

With the cotton of your skilful mind!”

Master Bankei Yotaku (1622-1693) has given us a wonderful gift in the form of his teachings. And, as the Buddha taught, the greatest of gifts is the Dharma (Buddhist teachings), so thank you, Bankei! I write this now, because we have come to the last two verses in his superb poem ‘Song of the Mind.’ Throughout these reflections, it has become apparent that there are two themes that run through the whole thing, and that they are crucial to its true appreciation; but more of that after we’ve taken a look at the two verses above. As ever with these reflections, the accompanying exercise is included to help open the ‘Dharma Eye’ that both the Buddha and Bankei want us to see with, so please take a few minutes to try it out. Read on!

“The Pure Land

Where one communes at peace”

The most popular form of Buddhism in the Far East is not Zen, which is the most well known in the West, but Pure Land Buddhism. Where the former is austere and most difficult to understand, Pure Land Buddhism is a religion of the masses, based on faith rather than knowledge. Pure Land devotees put their faith in Amida Butsu (Amitbha Buddha – ‘the Awakened One of Infinite Light’), who has taken a vow to accept all his followers into his heavenly paradise – the Pure Land – where they can achieve liberation under his compassionate guidance.

The common ways to worship Amida are through rituals and ceremonies and the nembutsu (‘remembrance of the Buddha’) where the devotee chants ‘Namu Amida Butsu’ (‘Homage to Amitabha Buddha’). Different sects of Pure land Buddhism advise their practitioners in various ways of doing this, some recommending several thousand recitations per day, and others stating that just one heartfelt utterance of the nembutsu is enough to be reborn in the Pure land. Once there, it is agreed that Amida’s infinite light will shine peaceful wisdom on his devotees, each of whom will be sat atop a giant lotus flower, meditating their way to enlightenment.

“Is here and now, it’s not remote

Millions and millions of leagues away”

As ever, we can expect Bankei to cut through any cosy beliefs and bring our attention right back to the here and now, rather than adrift in some never-never land. As with some other notable Zen adherents, such as the 20^th Century’s D. T. Suzuki, Bankei tells us that the Pure Land is actually in our present location, not in some ethereal realm, and it is in this present moment, not in some future time. To be fair, according to Suzuki, some Pure Landers of the Shin sect have taught as much, including the poet Saichi who declared, “Shining in glory is Buddha’s Pure land,/ And this is my Pure land!/ Namu Amid Butsu! Namu Amidsa Butsu!” In such a practice as Saichi’s, the recitation has become his rebirth in the Pure Land, and the chirping bird produces heavenly music, the shining sun produces heavenly light, and the squatting dog produces heavenly cra – well, you get the idea!

“When someone tosses you a tea bowl

Catch it!”

Sound advice, O Master, for if one does not catch the tea bowl, it will smash into myriad pieces, and Polly will have to put the kettle on again! Zen masters used to do some crazy things, including throwing objects at their devoted followers. (Maybe they still do – let me know if you have some information on this.) But, it’s pretty safe to presume that Bankei is not being literal here; he isn’t about to toss us a piece of valuable Japanese ceramic, but instead is using the image of a tea bowl to represent something else even more delicious – the Dharma. And that’s saying something, coming from an Englishman!

“Catch it nimbly with soft cotton

With the cotton of your skilful mind!”

If he was pitching us a tea bowl, soft cotton might just enable us to catch it without any damage, but Bankei makes it clear exactly what we should to catch his teachings: the mind. Nevertheless, there’s more to this cotton analogy, because the mind too must be nice and soft to “catch” the Dharma, for if it’s too hard it will reject it without due consideration, or else take it literally or logically and not really understand it. Bankei is telling us to be reflective and wise when considering the Dharma, and if we do so, we will surely see the Pure Land sparkling all around us, even when we step in the stuff that the dog was so busy producing earlier! Seriously, let’s try an exercise that might help us to have at least a glimpse of Amida’s Pure Land. Are you ready?

Take a look at the room you’re in, or better still at the world outside your window. Observe the different objects and any people or animals present, noticing their shapes and colours and your mind’s reactions to them. Perhaps some of them inspire pleasant reactions in your mind, others unpleasant, while some evoke a neutral response. The world is imperfect, isn’t it? Some stuff is nice, some not so nice, and some just plain boring. But, wait. There’s more (or less!) to the world than this. Look at something (or someone) you like. Where is the emotion of liking in that person? Can you see it in them? Sure, there are qualities about their appearance that you like, but that’s your reaction to what you see. Your liking of them is in you, not them. Now look at something (or someone) that you don’t like. Again, where is the disliking? Is it in their appearance or in your reaction to them? In truth, the world is the way it is, however we respond to it. It is just so, it is already ‘the Pure Land.’ We just can’t see it properly because of the mind’s reaction to things. If we can just look at things in and of themselves, without judging them, they are the only way they could be, dependent upon causes and ‘just so.’ Accepting the way the world is opens us up to experiencing it as the Pure Land – we just have to look with a non-discriminative mind. Difficult? Keep looking!

It’ fitting that this is the last of the reflections on Bankei’s ‘Song of the Mind,’ because the final verses sum up the whole poem really well. (Well, I guess Bankei knew what he was doing!) Put very simply, he’s saying a) This is the Pure Land, and b) Look clearly. I’ll add a third point for us dumbos that are just a little slower than he: c) Enlightenment! Whether we use the exercises promoted on ‘Buddha Space,’ or zazen, or the nembutsu, or some other technique to open up to the way-things-are (the Dharma), it’s okay. The main point is to see beyond these limited and limiting egos that we take ourselves to be and see the bigger picture. It’s been a pleasure sharing these reflections with you: bon voyage on the Path!

Please click the following link to visit the homepage of 'Buddha Space,' where this article originated: http://buddhaspace.blogspot.com/

Buddha & Eckhart: On Nothingness

2011-05-02T00:01:00.009+07:00

Japanese philosopher Ueda Shizeru

"According to Meister Eckhart, God gives birth to his Son in the solitary soul. 'The Father begets me as his Son, as his very same Son. Whatever God works is one. Thus he begets me as his Son without any distinction.' The 'birth of God in the soul,' spoken of here in the language of the Christian doctrine of the Trinity, is the leap to realization of his own authentic life that man experiences in 'solitariness' with the surrender of the ego."
(The Buddha Eye: An Anthology of the Kyoto School, edited by Frederick Frank., p.157)

The above quotation, along with the others in this article, are taken from the essay '"Nothingness" in Meister Eckhart and Zen Buddhism' by Ueda Shizuteru, a member of the Kyoto School of Buddhist philosophy and professor emeritus of the Department of Religion in Kyoto University. As with other Buddhist scholars, including the famous D. T. Suzuki, Ueda had a intense interest in the writings of Meister Eckhart, the Medieval Dominican priest. Not surprising, really, when we examine some of the parallels between Eckhart and the teachings of the Buddha. Take the above quote, for example. Ueda extracts the essential similarity between Buddhism and Eckhartian theology; both involve the giving up of the sense of being a separate self or ego, which dies into the greater reality which the Buddha named Nirvana and Eckhart called God. It is worth noting that in the above words Eckhart apparently equates the awakened 'soul' (or 'mind') with that of Christ, when he emphasizes that the Son begat in him is "his very same Son."

"'The Father begets me as his Son without any distinction.' This means that the absolute event of salvation touches each and every individual in its full originality, without first passing through a mediator. This being the case, Eckhart stands very close to Mahayana Buddhism, the philosophical-religious base of Zen Buddhism. According to Mahayana teaching, the very same awakening to the very same truth transforms each and every individual into the very same Buddha - that is, it makes each individual the same 'Awakened One' that it made of the historical Buddha, Gautama."
(Ibid. pp.157-158)

Ueda's excellent insight that Eckhart's view (or experience) of the Son is "without any distinction" parallels the Mahayana Buddhist belief that every 'Awakened One' is the Buddha is well worth reflecting upon. For, whereas in conventional Christian thought, Jesus is God's only begotten Son, and we are separate from Christ and God, even at the deepest level of being, Eckhart insists that if we practice correctly, we can merge into God, and are his Son just as Jesus was/is. The implications of this conclusion are most dramatic when we consider how it would affect one's relationship with the local cleric or preacher, unless a dignified silence was maintained. Imagine declaring to a Christian congregation, "I am the Son - and so are you!" This identification with being God's Son is mirrored in the Zen experience of being Buddha, that is to say, discovering that the essence of being is Buddha. (It's certainly not the case that one's ego is the Son or the Buddha, but that which lies beyond the sense of being an individual entity.

In essence, this realization that we are all Buddha is the case with Theravada Buddhism also, as the Buddha is considered the first Arahant (in this age), and that everyone that achieves full awakening is also an arahant. ('Arahant' is a term that denotes an enlightened person in the Theravada tradition, and is the ideal in that form of Buddhism. It is superseded by the notion of the Bodhisattva in Mahayana Buddhism, but that's a discussion for another time…maybe!) In Theravada Buddhism, the title 'Buddha' is reserved for the historical Shakyamuni Buddha, Siddhartha Gautama, and his predecessors that all discovered the Buddhist truths independently and then established Buddhism in eras when it had disappeared. Despite these sectarian differences in semantics, in the light of the central truth of enlightenment or salvation as understood by the Buddha and Eckhart, we can say that Arahant, Buddha, and Son are all descriptions of those who have been 'saved' from life's sufferings.

"So far the similarity is only of a general nature. A more deep-reaching spiritual kinship appears when Eckhart speaks of a 'breakthrough to the nothingness of the godhead.' 'The soul is not content with being a Son of God.' 'The soul wants to penetrate to the simple ground of God, to the silent desert where not a trace of distinction is to be seen, neither Father nor Son nor Holy Spirit.' By carrying out in radical fashion his Neoplatonically laden understanding of 'being one,' Eckhart transfers the essence or ground of God back beyond the divine God to the simple modeless, formless, unthinkable, and unspeakable purity that he calls, in distinction to God, 'godhead,' and that he describes as a nothingness."
(Ibid. p.158)

This "simple, modeless, formless, unthinkable, and unspeakable purity" that Eckhart calls "godhead" comes very close to the Buddha's description of nirvana as "the Unborn, Unoriginated, Uncreated and and Unformed" (From Udana VIII.3 in the Tipitaka) If the godless is formless, then its not the gendered god envisaged by most Christians, sat atop a throne with a long beard and flowing robes. This "silent desert" without "a trace of distinction" is not, as Eckhart clearly states, the Holy Trinity nor any one of its Persons, but is "a nothingness." As with Buddhist explanations of nirvana, the idea of nothingness can be easily misunderstood. As the forest monk Ajahn Sumedho has suggested, by writing the word as "no-thingness" we emphasize that it is not a thing, rather than point to nothing. In a similar effort, the term "No-thing" has often been used in the pages of 'Buddha Space,' under the influence of the British philosopher Douglas Harding. (Links to the Forest Sangha, of which Ajahn Sumedho is a senior member, and the Headless Way website, which based on Harding's teachings, can be found to the right of this webpage.) Ueda has further insights into Eckhart's concept of nothingness that may interest us:

"For Eckhart, the nothingness of the godhead is, in a non-objective manner, the soul's very own ground. Hence the soul, in order to return to its original ground, must break through God and out into the nothingness of the godhead. In so doing the soul must 'take leave of God' and 'become void of God.' This is accomplished only if the soul lets go of itself as what has been united with God. This what Eckhart understands by extreme 'solitariness,' the 'fundamental death.'"
(Ibid. p.158)

For the Christian word 'soul' Buddhists (and nonreligious types) can substitute the term 'mind.' Doing so, we can better relate to Eckhart's assertion that "the nothingness of the godhead is…the soul's very ground." In other words, these minds and bodies which are created things in a world of things are not self; indeed, there is no such individual, separate self. At heart, the "original ground" of our being, is this nothingness that is "void of God." Reading Eckhart's words carefully, it would seem that to achieve this realization, we need to practice meditation or silent prayer, and allow the soul (or mind) to let go of its self-identification which has surrendered to the idea of God (or Buddha) and rest in the godhead that is nothingness. This is because self is an entity, God is an entity, Buddha is an entity, and no-thingness is beyond all entities or things. Put another way, in Eckhart's view, surrendering to God is an important stage to full salvation (or enlightenment), but to achieve the latter we must let go of everything, dying as a separate self into the nothingness of what he calls the godhead.

"In Eckhart's thought it is the category of 'substance' that is,in the last analysis, definitive. But concomitant with this arrival at, and insistence on, the imageless and formless nature of substance pure and simple, Eckhart advances a radical de-imaging of the soul which is consummated in and as a ceaseless 'letting go.' This 'letting go' accords his teaching its extremely dynamic quality, corresponding to the dynamic of the Zen coincidence of negation and affirmation - except that in Zen, where we see a radical execution of the Mahayana Buddhist thinking on relatedness, the scope of coincidence is wider than it is in Eckhart."
(Ibid. p.160)

Ueda's philosophical language can be somewhat baffling at first - at least to this mind, it can - and so we need to decipher it to appreciate it basic meaning. By "substance," Ueda refers to that same nothingness that we have been discussing, and which is also known as 'the ground of being' elsewhere. By "a ceaseless 'letting go,'" Eckhart and Ueda refer to the process of realizing the truth of not-self. We can observe the world, the body, and even the mind (or 'soul') and see that none of them constitute a self, and in this realization we get to the heart of the religious life as envisaged by both the Buddha and Meister Eckhart. This "de-imaging" is the act of letting go with mindfulness, as in meditation and deep prayer. By the "coincidence of negation and affirmation," Ueda alludes to the Zen tradition of the koan that leads to an alogical experience of life, where we hear 'the sound of one hand clapping' and where opposites merge into a single, interrelated and interdependent understanding of existence. Ueda, as an advocate of Zen Buddhism proposes that it has a broader significance than Eckhart's theology of nothingness, which is an issue that the current author is unqualified to comment on.

In this article, along with several others (which can be linked to by clicking on 'Buddha & Eckhart' in the Buddha Space Reflection Series on the right of this webpage), the striking similarities between some of the Buddha's teachings and those of Meister Eckhart have been shown to be well worth reflecting upon for the open-minded Buddhist - not to mention the open-minded Christian! Whether or not you agree with the claims of Eckhart or this blog author, it is hoped that the material printed here has been interesting to you and has perhaps touched your beliefs or practices, or both. Reaching out to other traditions than our own can be of much benefit if done with kindness and consideration. It is not the claim of this author or others such as Ueda Shizuteru featured herein that the Buddha and Meister Eckhart experienced and taught exactly the same (No-)thing. There are notable coincidences within their respective teachings however, that glisten with the merest of polishings, and it is in this spirit that the Buddha & Eckhart Reflections have been offered. May all beings be happy!

Please click on the following link to go to 'Buddha Space,' the origin of this article: http://buddhaspace.blogspot.com/

Reflections on Bankei's 'Song of the Mind' Verses 42-44

2011-04-26T00:01:00.003+07:00

“The mind that’s not conditioned

Is originally unborn

What is unconditioned doesn’t exist

That is why there’s no delusion

Though the years mat creep ahead

Mind itself can never age

This mind that’s

Always just the same

Wonderful! Marvelous!

When you’ve searched and found at last

The one who never will grow old -

‘I alone!’”

In the teachings of the 17^th Century Zen master Bankei Yotaku we have the words of truly amazing man. He cuts through the delusions of the ego-mind with the sword of wisdom that leaves us in doubt who is the victor! And, with this incredible master’s ‘Song of the Mind’ poem, verse after verse acts as such a sword. If we are brave enough, we may offer up our necks, and leave behind our egotistical existences that are built on delusion and suffering. It seems a fair swap, but there’s effort involved – such as doing the exercise in italics below – and an open mind is required, for the wonderful and marvellous truth that awaits us is not like anything we might have imagined. So, without further delay, let’s sharpen that sword!

“The mind that’s not conditioned

Is originally unborn”

This is the heart of Bankei’s message to us, for when he uses the word unborn in reference to the mind, he is referring to what he frequently liked to call ‘the Unborn Buddha Mind.’ All things that are born (or anything that comes into being for that matter) are conditioned. We are conditioned by our genes, inherited from our parents, as well as by the people and events that we have encountered during our lives. If someone comes from a devoutly Christian family, he or she will probably be conditioned (or brainwashed!) into sharing the beliefs of their parents; someone born to a Buddhist family will be similarly treated, turning out to be ‘a chip off the old block.’ It depends where and when we are born as to how we will be conditioned. If one person is bitten by a dog at a very young age and traumatised by the experience, she or he may well be conditioned to have very different attitudes towards dogs than someone else that had very positive experiences with any canine companions. So, in very simplistic terms, we’ve seen how conditioning may well make one person a dog-hating Christian, and another person a Buddhist dog-lover.

Bankei is not describing the mind that can be conditioned in such ways, however. He is pointing to an aspect of our being that is beyond the reach of any conditioning factors. This is the aforementioned Unborn Buddha Mind. Elsewhere, the Master taught that, “The body, being created, has a birth and a death, but the mind, which is originally the Unborn Buddha Mind, does not.” (Taken from the Hoshin-Ji Sermons, a collection of teachings given by Bankei in 1690) Of course, the brain, as part of the body, is also conditioned and has a beginning and an end; the everyday, deluded mind is also conditioned by many, many factors, and has a limited life span. The Unborn Buddha Mind, on the other hand, can be seen to be without any features that require conditioning factors; it is unconditioned.

“What is unconditioned doesn’t exist

That is why there’s no delusion”

Here, Bankei deepens his teaching somewhat, making it necessary for us to pay a little more attention to exactly what he is saying. The Unborn Buddha Mind is unconditioned, as we established above, so, the Master instructs us, it doesn’t exist. Now, if it doesn’t exist, why give it fancy names like the Unborn Buddha Mind – just call it nothing. But nowhere does Bankei – or the Buddha for that matter - describe the Unborn as simply nothing. As it is unconditioned, however, it is unlike any thing we can imagine. The Unborn Buddha Mind is ultimately indescribable, and therefore, in the conventional sense of the term, it does not exist. In conclusion on this point, we can say that the Unborn both exists and does not exist, for although it doesn’t exist in the conventional understanding of the word, it nevertheless is, and it can be known and experienced, as we will hopefully explore below.

Delusion, like all other things and processes is conditioned. Bankei tells us that because the Unborn Buddha Mind is unconditioned, there is no delusion in it. This is the reverse of the traditional way that Buddhists approach this matter, for usually we describe delusion first, then its dissolution, which leaves the unconditioned shining brightly beyond the grasp of all nescience. This illustrates Bankei’s unique teaching style, and his lack of fear when dealing with ideas that most would dogmatically cling to as doctrines that cannot be tinkered with. If it can help us realise the Unborn and transcend delusion and suffering, Bankei doesn’t care too much if it is unconventional. Indeed, this is how we might sum up the wonderful teachings of this most distinctive of Zen masters: unconditioned and unconventional!

“Though the years may creep ahead

Mind itself can never age”

The ordinary, worldly mind is subject to aging, as is everything in this world. The (Unborn Buddha) Mind is extraordinary not ordinary, however, and it is not of this world. It knows the world, for sure, and in thus sense is not ‘otherworldly,’ as such. If it were at the mercy of time, the Unborn would have to be redubbed the Born, for everything that is born (comes into being), must age and then die (cease to be). In meditation, we can observe the (ordinary) mind to be conditioned; each thought has it predecessors, along with other conditioning factors such as the prevailing mood of the mind when the thought arose. That which observes this process is something else altogether, however, and if we turn our attention to it instead, we may reconsider our views on what this life is, and what we truly are. (See the exercise below for more on this.)

“This mind that’s

Always just the same”

Everything changes, that’s one of the basic teachings that the Buddha left us with. Watching the mind in meditation or just peering out of our window we can observe this ongoing process. The physical world, its contents, and the individual mind are all subject to change just as they are aging and death. Our bodies are not the same as the day we were born, nor are our minds. The places where we were born have changed also; perhaps they no longer exist at all. The Unborn Buddha Mind has no individual, conditioned elements to change, however. It is unchanging. It’s somewhat akin to space; whilst the objects that inhabit space may alter, space itself remains the same space. There’s nothing to change. The Unborn (or ‘Buddha Space’ as we might call it) is the same today as it was when the world came into being and will not have altered one iota the day that the earth finally comes to an end. (So, if the doom-mongers are right this time – they’ve been wrong every time previously – it doesn’t matter if the world ends in 2012, because the Unborn Buddha Mind will still be here! Not long to wait to find out, anyway. The clocks ticking down...)

“Wonderful! Marvelous!

When you’ve searched and found at last

The one who never will grow old -

‘I alone!’”

In the oldest extant Buddhist scriptures, known as the Pali Canon in English, the Buddha uses many synonyms for enlightenment, some of which are also used by Bankei. The most famous of these is the ‘Unborn,’ which in Pali is Ajata. Another such word is the ‘Unconditioned,’ which is Asankhata in Pali. Wonderful and Marvelous are also synonyms used by the Buddha for Nirvana, being Acchariya and Abbhuta respectively in the original scriptures. Whether or not this is a deliberate ploy by Bankei to lend an orthodox flavour to his Dharma soup or not is debatable, since he would not have had access to the Pali Canon in 17^th Century Japan. That he uses words like wonderful and marvelous to describe finding the Unborn is most appropriate, for it is indeed a wonder, and it’s a marvellous feeling to see it after looking every but here, where it was all along.

“The one who never will grow old” is the one right here, of course; not the conditioned body and mind, but that which is awake to their fleeting presence. For, Bankei is bringing our attention to the most important of Buddhist teachings: the Unborn Buddha Mind is this very mind right here and now. The difference between enlightenment and delusion is that the Unborn does not cling to desires, and therefore does not create delusion and suffering. When this is realized, the Unborn is revealed to be the very core of our being, nowhere else. In it is no division, no separation, and what’s more, my awakening is your awakening, and our awakening is the Buddha’s. Why? Because it is “I alone” that is enlightened.

“In heaven and on earth, I alone am to be revered!” announced the Buddha upon his birth – or, at least, that’s how the traditional myth goes. This statement could be read as being particularly egotistic, until we analyse it a little closer. It is not the conditioned ego (or mind) that the Buddha is declaring should be revered, but the Unconditioned. Now, whether we take the birth story of the Buddha literally or not is up to each individual, but that’s not the crucial point in all of this from the Buddhist perspective. The important thing is that we realise the No-thing that lies beyond the reach of aging and death, delusion and suffering. It is this “I alone” that we need to discover and live from if we are to awaken fully to the reality of this life. So, without further ado, let’s now use thinking to examine the facts of this moment in an open-minded manner.

For better focus, it’s a good idea to do this exercise with the eyes shut, so the visual world does not interfere with our observations. Having closed your eyes, take a few moments to calm the mind down. If you don’t know how to do this, one way is to watch the in-breaths and out-breaths as they pass the nostrils, putting your full attention on them. Do this as long as it takes for the mind to quieten down a little, focussing on your breathing. Next, turn your attention to your thoughts. Sometimes when we do this, they get shy and hide for a while! But, the mind being the mind, it can’t keep quiet for long, so once thoughts do start popping up in your head, take a good, long, unhurried look at them. What are your thoughts right now? How many different ones did you have in past minute or do? Is there a recognizable pattern in your thoughts, one leading to another and so on, or do they seem random and unpredictable? What ever your answers to these questions, isn’t it the case that your mind flits from one thought to the next, forever changing its direction like a psychological eel. Now, turn your attention around to that which is observing those thoughts: does it have any characteristics or conditioning factors? Does it appear to change, or is it its contents that change? Is it ‘loud’ like the thinking mind or quiet in its peaceful awareness of the mental processes?

Now, if you found in the above exercise that the conditioned mind was revealed to be a changing set of phenomena, but that that which watched those fleeting thoughts was consistant and silently alert, isn’t it possible that the latter is in fact that very Unborn Buddha Mind that Bankei is so keen for us to discover? Is it not unconditioned and without the delusion of being a separate, egoistic self? Is it not ageless and unchanging? And, if we recognize that it possesses all these qualities, is it not fair to declare that it is both wonderful and marvellous? Then, along with Bankei and the Buddha, we too may announce that it is “I alone am to be revered!”

Please click the following link to go to the homepage of 'Buddha Space,' where this article originated: http://buddhaspace.blogspot.com/

On Awakening Part 7

2011-04-18T00:01:00.000+07:00

“It is the Unformed, the Unconditioned, the End, the Truth, the Other Shore, the Subtle, the Everlasting, the Invisible, the Undiversified, Peace, the Deathless, the Blest, Safety, the Wonderful, the Marvelous, Nirvana, Purity, Freedom, the Island, the Refuge, the Beyond.” (Samyutta Nikaya 43: 1-44)

We conclude our reflections on the Buddha’s above description of awakening, or enlightenment, by examining the Island, the Refuge, and the Beyond. The heart of these reflections are not the words themselves, nor the exercises imbedded in the text, but the experience to which they point. That the Buddha used so many different and differing words to describe awakening – he used many more than in the above paragraph – reveals the diverse expressions of it, and the many Dharma Gates to ‘enter’ it. Hopefully, we may stroll through such a Gate together and bask on the other Shore, in the Everlasting contentment of enlightenment.

· The Island (Dipa) If we live on an island, we have a natural barrier against invasion and enslavement. Just ask the Japanese about the attempted invasions of their islands by the Mongols who had already conquered the great Chinese Empire. Ditto the British Isles, which have been free of outside invasion for nearly a thousand years. These are physical islands, of course, but when the Buddha uses the term as a synonym for enlightenment he is not referring to a lump of land surrounded by water. He is referring to the Island that separates us from invasion from the Kingdom of Death.

Despite what most of us might think, we cannot die. There’s nobody home to die! The Island of the Buddha cannot be invaded because it has no physical form to be invaded. We are forever free when we discover that we already live on this Island for not only is it unconquerable but it is out of the reach of time itself. It is neither subject to time nor space, and as such is beyond the imagination of even a great mind like that of Albert Einstein. For, whilst he was a genius when we consider the world of things and processes, he appeared to be trapped by his own grand intellect. Indeed, the simpler the mind, the easily it may recognize the Island upon it which resides. To locate this Island, let’s examine another of its titles: the Refuge.

· The Refuge (Sarana) It might surprise some people that the Buddha called enlightenment the Refuge, considering that he also taught that the Three Refuges are the Buddha, the Dharma, and the Sangha. There’s no contradiction here, however, because the latter Three Refuges exist to assist us in awakening, and are therefore refuges in which we can awaken, whereas awakening itself is the final Refuge of enlightenment. That the Three Refuges are not abandoned after enlightenment is for the benefit of other suffering beings, so that they may be lead to awakening also.

So, what is the nature of the Refuge? To know this, let’s review the general idea of a refuge and see extrapolate from this what a supramundane refuge would actually be. If we know what we’re looking for, perhaps we’ll have a chance of recognizing it when we see it. The New Oxford American Dictionary defines the word refuge as “a condition of being safe or sheltered from pursuit, danger, or trouble,” and, “something providing such shelter.” In addition, the Oxford American Writer’s Thesaurus has the following words listed after refuge: shelter, protection, safety, security, asylum, and sanctuary. Quite a list and it’s difficult to imagine anything that might fulfill all the above requirements to be considered the Refuge. But, there’s a clue in that last sentence: thing. According to the Buddha, no thing could ever be a true and lasting refuge from the unsatisfactory aspects of this life; but this doesn’t mean that we should give up on our search, for what if there is a ‘no-thing’ that is the true Refuge?

Things are limited by their very nature, and can therefore never be 100% refuges, and this includes the Buddha, the Dharma, and the Sangha, for whilst they are refuges on the way to awakening, they are still imperfect and impermanent like all other things. Only enlightenment itself is out of reach of suffering, and is therefore the Refuge that we need to discover if we wish to let go of our delusions and sufferings. You see, enlightenment is not a thing, and is therefore not limited; it is the No-thing that protects from the world’s terrors and tribulations. But, where is it?

Now we’re getting down to the crux of the matter, so we’d better pay good attention, hadn’t we? It’s already been written that the Refuge is not found in things, so we cannot look for it in the world around us; it’s made up of things, some big, some small, some to our liking, some not, but all things. Turning our attention around to ourselves, we might consider the body, but this too is made up of things, some beautiful, some best forgotten. Neither the world nor the body is the Refuge, both composed of imperfect things that are cause of suffering. The physical world is no real, true refuge; not as the Buddha used the word, anyhow.

What of the mind? If the Refuge is not to be located in the physical world, perhaps it is in the mental one? Looking at emotions, are they things that are incapable of being the Refuge? For sure; we are pulled all over the place by our emotions, experiencing highs and lows, and much suffering to boot. They are no true Refuge. Thoughts, too, are not free of disturbances and problems. Memories can be very vexing indeed, and dreams can leave us screaming in the night. No, the mental as well as the physical is not the Refuge – it looks as if we’ve failed in our search for enlightenment; it doesn’t exist!

But wait; consider abandoning our quest just yet, for we need to return to that very important word once again: thing. According to the Buddha, the Refuge is the No-thing beyond all things and processes, so of course it isn’t going to be part of the world, the body, or the mind. It can’t be seen, heard, touched or thought. It’s invisible, intangible, unthinkable, and beyond logic. Moreover, it is right here! Point a finger back at where you are looking from and note what you see - a face, a head, a body, a world? Or, do you see a great No-thing that is host to all that you see, hear, touch, and think? And, is this No-thing limited by any kind of features, or is it a spaciousness that’s untouchable by the sufferings of the world and the apparent self?

Going back to the dictionary definitions of a refuge, can we say that this No-thing lives up to those descriptions or not? Is it a shelter from the influence of the three poisons, greed, hatred, and delusion? Is it a protection and place of safety, in which we find true sanctuary from the pain of the world and the mind? Well, to find out the answer to that, we need to recognize this No-thing and then live from it, cultivate it, die into it. Only after many years of living from ‘it’ can we decide if the Refuge has been found: so we’d better get started!

The Beyond (Parayana) The Beyond that the Buddha wants us to discover is that which is beyond suffering. It is beyond the desires and attachments that cause suffering. It is beyond any identification with anything being a self that I might call mine. It is beyond time and space and the limitations of all processes and things. But, as well all these characteristics, the Beyond has one more to be recognized: it is beyond any description whatsoever. Every word that the Buddha used to point it out was merely a pointer; nothing more, nothing less. There are no doctrines or dogmas that can trap it and define it; it is beyond all limitations, including any that might come from over-dependence on the Buddha and his teachings. Hence, the Zen declaration, “If you see the Buddha on the road, kill him!” But then, the Beyond is even beyond any ideas of killing or not killing the Buddha…

So, the Beyond that leaves behind desire and suffering is the final Refuge which nothing can harm, for it is itself ‘No-thing.’ This Island that cannot be invaded by the miseries of an unenlightened life turns out to be timeless, too; there isn’t a clock to be seen. It is, as written of previously in this series of reflections, the Deathless, and as such not only cannot age but cannot die either. It is the Unconditioned Everlasting that the Buddha also named Nirvana, and it isn’t as far away as we usually think it is. In fact, with the help of the exercises that have appeared in these reflections on Awakening, it is immediately knowable and liveable in the here and now for anyone to discover.

Looking is one thing, however, and seeing another. I might look at you but not see you because of dim light or camouflage. Moreover, even if I do see you, I might not recognise you, and then walk right past you – much to your relief! The Subtle, as the Buddha called it, isn’t much to look at, and yet, if recognised and given sustained attention, it will transform our perceptions and understandings of who, what, and why we are. We need resolve to keep at it, however, for unless we achieve full enlightenment very swiftly, the mind’s old habits born of delusion and fed by greed and hatred will kick in with a vengeance. All manner of doubts and difficulties will arise, but if we stay focused on the Truth that lies at the heart of every sentient being, we will see every noisy piece of suffering fade into this Wonderful Peace.

Buddha and Eckhart: On The True Spiritual Life

2011-04-11T00:01:00.002+07:00

"Dear children, you must know that true spiritual life leads to perfect freedom from self and all things." (The quotations in this article comprise the sermon 'Innocent's Day,' as found on page 59 of David O'Neal's wonderful little book 'Meister Eckhart, from Whom God Hid Nothing.')

As is often the case with the Master Eckhart's instructions, he gets straight to the point, and so shall we. He states, in contrast to conventional ideas of what the fruits of a Christian life are, that the results of a successful spiritual practice result in the destruction of the delusion of self and, as he puts it, all things. Let's start with the former: the "perfect freedom from self." Does this not echo an important part of the Buddha's teaching, anatta (the reality of there being no self)? Moreover, in enlightenment, we are freed from identifying with the delusion of being a self, which also seems to be what Eckhart is getting at. This is radical statement for a Christian priest to make (especially in the medieval ages), for the usual beliefs were that the goal of the spiritual life was resurrection and salvation of the self, to live for eternity as a separate self in the presence of a separate God. Indeed, this apparently forms the central hope for the majority of Christians to this day, which may be one reason why Eckhart's teachings are not more widely known and followed.

The Master also mentions that perfect freedom from "all things" is achieved at the end of a true spiritual life. Again, this doesn't seem to be the mainstream doctrine of the Christian Church, whichever denomination or order we amy consider (apart from the Franciscans, perhaps, to which Eckhart did not belong - he was a Dominican priest.) Often, modern Christian preachers will declare that if someone believes in Jesus enough, "all things will be given unto him." This is taken by such preachers to mean that if we have strong faith in Jesus, we will get whatever we desire (or covet, perhaps). Wanna new car? Have faith in Christ enough and you'll get one! Eckhart rejects this idea, however, just as he does not teach that good Christians will have everything they want in heaven; instead, he states that they will be free from all things, desired or otherwise. This parallels the Buddha's teaching on equanimity, in that Buddhists are encouraged to see beyond greed, hatred, and delusion to the freedom that lies beyond.

"One cares nothing, seeks nothing, has nothing, wants nothing for oneself, but frankly resigns oneself to eternal law, always so clearly shown to the discerning but which none may know unless he is inwardly atoned and outwardly obedient to the discipline perfectly exemplified in our Lord Jesus Christ."

Not caring or seeking after anything is of course freedom from desire, which the Buddha taught is the cause of our suffering. He also taught the Dharma ('eternal law'), available to any discerning mind. Now, it can be argued that there are substantial differences between the laws promoted in the Bible and those revealed by the Buddha, but if we look beyond the details of biblical and Buddhist precepts, we may find that they point to similar, if not identical spiritual ends. This certainly seems the case with Eckhart's teachings on such matters. To be "inwardly atoned," as he puts it, means to be emptied of self so that the purified soul (or mind) may receive God (nirvana), which, as Eckhart explains elsewhere, is achieved through intense prayer (meditation). Outward obedience to discipline can mean to one's order, sect, Church, or monastery, etc., and is demonstrated by both Jesus and Buddha, whose lives illustrate the way to what the latter called 'the deathless.'

"Those who live this life, they verily attain to unity, and to know the truth one has to dwell in unity and be the unity."

By "this life" Eckhart of course means the spiritual life that we are examining, which he sees as being tied up with what he calls "unity." Unity suggests a lack of differentiation, a state of peacefulness without opposites or conflict. And yet, by his words we are not to take this unity as something we acquire, for although he states that it should be attained, known, and dwelt in, he also declares that it is something we should be. Interestingly, if we change the word unity to 'nirvana' in the above quotation, it works just as well. A synonym for nirvana used by the Buddha is 'non-diversified,' which is another way of saying 'unity.' In meditative terms, it indicates a mind not distracted or in conflict with itself, which is one of the main aims of both Buddhist meditation and Eckhartian 'prayer,' and is a prelude to enlightenment.

"He who is at all aware of his own mind knows nothing of God's."

As above, we could easily make sense of this statement by inserting a Buddhist word: He who is at all aware of his own mind know's nothing of Buddha Mind. Whilst some Buddhists may have doctrinal difficulties with the idea of Buddha Mind, for those that accept it, the above quotation from the Master should surely find strong parallels with their own beliefs or experiences regarding Buddha Mind. For other Buddhists, we might use a more impersonal term like 'no-mind' or (again) nirvana. Either way, Eckhart's letting go of awareness of the egoistic mind and diving (dying) into what remains is indicative of certain stages of meditation, where the personality is surrendered into a greater reality.

"By the fact of his knowing and seeing, he is not void."

At first glimpse, this statement will offer some difficulty for the complementary comparison of Eckhart's teaching and the Buddha. This is, of course, because the Buddha taught that emptiness (or void) is at the heart of us all. However, elsewhere Eckhart himself has written of God that he is empty of any particular characteristics, and that he is a "not God," so, in the sense of being "not void" in the above statement, we need to look for an alternative meaning than. In other words, by "his knowing and seeing" the spiritual aspirant is not void of what, exactly? Void of God, or in Buddhist parlance, void of nirvana. In this interpretation, it is another way of saying that whoever achieves true knowing and seeing sees God, Buddha, nirvana, or whatever word or concept we wish to attach to the ultimate ground of being. (Now, it may be that this reflection appears a little awkward or doesn't 'ring true' for the reader; that's perfectly okay. These reflections on the teachings of Eckhart and their relationship to the Buddha's philosophy aren't meant to be dogmatically accepted, but considered in an open-minded manner. If they are beneficial, that's great. If not, then they can be let go of. This goes for any etchings that we encounter, Buddhist or other.)

"The highest knowing and seeing is knowing and seeing, unknowing and unseeing."

Here, Eckhart seems more like an enigmatic Zen master than a Christian priest. What on earth (or in heaven!) does he mean by saying that knowing and seeing is the same as unknowing and unseeing? Well, the clue is in the word "highest." He seems to be stating that in meditative or contemplative heights of rapture, knowing and unknowing merge into one, as does seeing and unseeing. Moreover, in his theology, as in Buddhist teachings, the ultimate (or 'highest') aim of spiritual life is a kind of knowing but not conventional intellectual knowing as popularly understood. The same goes for seeing and unseeing. We do not 'know' or 'see' enlightenment, but it is 'known' (or 'seen') or else it would not have been talked of by such luminaries as the Buddha and Eckhart; there would be nothing to talk of. To pursue the Zen analogy: it is known and yet not known; it is seen and yet not seen; it is, and yet not is. If we try to 'know' or 'see' this in the conventional sense of these terms, we will fail miserably. Eckhart is encouraging us to go beyond the limited knowledge and senses of the egoistic self.

"To know anything of self is to know nothing of God, and he who wants God to be his is putting an obstacle in his own way."

To know about the self is know about a set of conventional, worldly, truths. There is immense value in this kind of knowledge, and both the Buddha and Christ taught us to cultivate this type of wisdom. It is a crucial step to understanding others , society, and the world, and shouldn't be dismissed lightly. But, Eckhart assumes that we understand this already. He is building on top of this conventional wisdom with something more profound. In essence, he is telling us that we must empty ourselves of the sense of being a self if we wish to know God, which is echoed in the Buddha's instructions on how we can realize enlightenment - we must let go of our attachment to the sense of self if we want to experience nirvana. However, as many Buddhist masters have taught, if we attach to the desire for enlightenment, this will itself be an obstacle to our achieving it. It seems that both nirvana and God cannot be grasped by either an egoistic mind nor one that hungers to possess them. Selflessness is the way for both Christian and Buddhist.

"'He who wants God to be his is in danger of spiritual pride,' so says one of the saints."

Or, in Buddhist terms, 'He who wants nirvana to be his is in danger of spiritual pride,' so says one of the enlightened ones! The parallels here are self-evident, so we will move on.

"With the righteous soul, the more God is to her the less he is hers, for God is all his own."

In other words, if we desire God, cling to God and thirst to know and possess him, we will never have him. God cannot be grasped, and neither can enlightenment. This is the same argument as two sentences previous, and we might accuse Eckhart of needlessly repeating himself if we didn't know that this is such an important point that both Christians and Buddhists need to bear in mind when practicing meditation or deep prayer. In the Tipitaka, the Buddhist scriptures, we find much repetition also. Some of this can be explained by the early oral transmission of teachings and the need for repetitive phrases for the ease of remembrance, but this does not explain the reassurance of certain themes again and agin throughout not only the Tipitaka but also throughout the history of Buddhist teaching. Much-repeated subjects are repeated because they are important, and therefore we shouldn't take Eckhart's words on spiritual desire lightly!

"The right humble spirit is little in itself, because the way of truth is made known to it."

By "little" the Master means that the self (delusion) is reduced to next to nothing (or actually nothing), and that the path to salvation (enlightenment) is revealed. When the truth of the-way-things-are (The Dharma) is known, then egoism goes out the window, replaced by the knowledge that these apparent selves are not much when compared to the greater reality that opens up in spiritual awakening. To be "humble" here indicates this lessening of self-importance and differentiation from all else. In conventional truth, we are conditioned beings completely dependent upon each other and the world around us for our existence, whilst in ultimate truth, what we are is not a self, a we, and is the antithesis of egoist conceit, whether dressed in religious garb or secular clothing.

"True spiritual poverty leads into it."

To be truly poor doesn't necessarily mean a lack a material possessions, although for some it does. The ideal of the Buddhist monk is someone with little more than their robes to their name, and in Christianity there is the example of the Franciscans who ideally lead a life of strict poverty. This relates to the earlier statement above where Eckhart mentions "perfect freedom from self and all things." It is a "spiritual" poverty, not always a material one, although perhaps we (and the world's millionaires) should recall Christ's declaration that "It is easier for a camel to enter the eye of a needle than it is a rich person the kingdom of God"! Then again, who's to say that Jesus was not extolling spiritual poverty when he said this; no doubt many Christians have held this view, perhaps Ecklhart amongst them.

"The soul will find no more profound humility than that of our Lord Jesus Christ, who himself declared, 'I am not of myself.'"

Perhaps this statement, with its promotion of Jesus, will stick in the throat of many Buddhist readers more than any other in this article, but only if we view it in dogmatic terms (as many Christians will, of course). On the other hand, we can see the words of the Buddha and Eckhart as tools to awaken with, as when the Buddha described his own teachings as a raft to cross over to the 'other shore' of enlightenment. If we do this, then we can simply replace the words 'Lord Jesus Christ' with 'Lord Buddha,' and the sentence will be much more appealing to the Buddhists amongst us. Either way, the final words of this Eckhartian sermon are themselves a perfect summation of its contents and meaning. Both the Buddha and Christ shared this view: "I am not of myself." Whatever self we take ourselves to be, we are not that. Enlightenment - or salvation in the eyes of Eckhart - is a transcending or letting go of any sense of self, and in the end, this is what the spiritual life is all about, whether we are Buddhist, Christian, or neither.

Reflections on Bankei's 'Song of the Mind' Verses 39-41

2011-04-03T00:01:00.000+07:00

“People have no enemies

None at all right from the start

You create them all yourself

Fighting over right and wrong

Clear are workings of cause and effect

You become deluded but don’t know

It’s something that you’ve done yourself

That’s what’s called self-centeredness

Grown used to the conditioned world

Grown used to the world of transience

When you become deluded like this

You’re the one that’s losing out!”

When we consider the words of a great Zen master like Bankei Yotaku (1622-1693), we should approach them with both respect and awareness. Respect should be present because these are the teachings of a man that dedicated himself to the alleviation of ignorance and suffering in both himself and others. Awareness is needed because if we don’t pay attention we are likely to miss the central point of what he is telling us. Furthermore, awareness turns out to be the essential ingredient when enlightenment dawns on us, stripping away the nescience that darkens our ignorant minds. In the following reflections on Bankei’s verse, there are quite a number of technical Buddhist terms in the ancient Sanskrit language. Please don’t be perturbed by them, and if it assists in your appreciation and understanding of this commentary, ignore them. They are included to show that there is a thread of enlightened truth that runs through the teachings of both the Buddha and Bankei, mainly for the benefit of those who might doubt such matters. In the end, however, it is the exercise included towards the rear of this piece that the proof of the pudding lays. Eat on!

“People have no enemies

None at all right from the start

You create them all yourself

Fighting over right and wrong”

Bankei, having rediscovered his original nature and then lived from it, knew something very basic to the human condition – we are our own worst enemies. Not just in the sense that we are often mean to each other – although this is a major side effect – but in the way that we create conflict first in our own minds. “Mind is the forerunner of all states,” as the Buddha declares in the Dhammapada, and this is exactly what Bankei is getting, too. The mind makes all manner of things its enemies: insects, traffic, bosses, relatives, countries, and computers, not to mention the weather (the latter especially in Britain!). It doesn’t stop here, of course, for the mind is divided against itself, and when confronted with the mundane decisions can come into conflict with itself: the red dress or the blue one; cereal or toast; the comedy or the drama? At the level of personality, the mind can be its own worst enemy as well, at loggerheads whether to be friendly or firm, submissive or assertive, mysterious or readily available.

Right and wrong can refer to specific decisions that we make, and to which personality traits we consider preferable, but they clearly also indicate morality. Is it right or wrong to eat meat? Is it right or wrong to use violence to defend one’s country? Rather like personality traits, or, as part of what we consider to be those traits, comes our moral attitudes, whether they be liberal, conservative, left wing, right wing, or just plain barmy! Psychologically, we can have serious and debilitating battles over these issues, tearing ourselves in two (or more) over which qualities and opinions we deem right and which ones wrong, and all inside these meatballs that sit atop our necks! And, should such conflicts spill out into the world, we may end up losing our topknots altogether, either on the gallows or at the hands of a crazed zealot. We are, indeed, the creators of our own worst enemies.

“Clear are workings of cause and effect

You become deluded but don’t know

It’s something that you’ve done yourself

That’s what’s called self-centeredness”

There are three key terms in this verse which form the heart of its meaning. The first of these is “cause and effect,” which references the Buddhist understanding of how everything we do has consequences. This is related to the word karma, which translates as ‘action.’ In this sense, an action has a result, so that if I stand in the rain, I get wet. In Buddhism, it goes further than this, for the results of actions are believed to not always be immediate or obvious, so that the ramifications of what is done now may crop up much later in this life, or even in future lives. Furthermore, karma and its results can be interpreted psychologically, so that the state of the mind now affects its condition later on. When we meditate and develop mindfulness of our thought processes, this psychological aspect of karma becomes most apparent, and Bankei, being the wise Zen master that he was, was no doubt well aware of this particular understanding of cause and effect.

The second term to come to terms with in the above verse is “deluded.” This word has its equivalent in Buddhist parlance as avidya in Sanskrit, the Indian philosophical, religious, and literary language which will be used here. Delusion is as an important word to understand as is karma for the serious Buddhist, but it has not caught on in the west like the former term. Perhaps this is because avidya is even harder to swallow as a concept than it is pronounced as a word. The Buddha taught that avidya lies at the foundation of our suffering, and it only completely dies away with when we realize full enlightenment. But, you may well ask, avidya is delusion of precisely what? Well, the delusion of self, or, the false understanding/experience that I am a separate self. The opposite of avidya is vidya, and is the realization of anatman, which means ‘not self.’ Put simply, anatman is the realization that none of the things that we normally take to constitute a self, do not, and that in truth there is no self here to suffer. This is related to the Buddhist idea of emptiness (sunyata).

The third important term in the above verse is “self-centeredness.” This can be equated with the Buddhist words satkaya-drsti (idea-of-self) and mana (conceit-of-self), and relates to the concept of anatman, which is its antithesis. When we live with the idea and feeling of being a separate self with its own concerns and biases, there is bound to be conflict with the world which does not always fit in with our individualistic plans. If others are perceived to be spoiling our plans, adverse reactions can – and usually do – arise, causing much strife. If two extremely self-centred personalities come into conflict, the consequences can be equally extreme, resulting not just in strong and offensive language, but even violence or death.

Now, what does Bankei say of these key concepts of cause and effect, delusion, and self-centeredness? He states that we are the cause of our own deluded self-centeredness and the resultant suffering that thereby arises. Because we attach to the ideas and feelings of being a self, and live ignorant to the process of cause and effect, we suffer, and cause others to suffer through our selfish behaviour. Moreover, he teaches that we have become deluded; it is not our original, natural state. This gives us hope, for if our original mind is the origin of the suffering one that we experience – and associate with – now, then it must be possible to rediscover it and let go of our delusion and suffering. Here, we can see the psychological aspect to these teachings alluded to above, and in his diagnosis, Bankei, like the Buddha before him, hits the cause of our suffering firmly on its egotistical head!

“Grown used to the conditioned world

Grown used to the world of transience

When you become deluded like this

You’re the one that’s losing out!”

In this verse there are two terms that are worth defining, but luckily they mean the same thing. They are “the conditioned world” and “the world of transience.” Both can be summed up with the Buddhist term samsara which literally means ‘flowing on,’ and indicates ‘the round of rebirths,’ and, by extension of that concept, ‘the round of suffering,’ also. When we live identified with being a separate self, we see this self as living in the conditioned world, largely at its (non-existent) mercy. Furthermore, as part of this world, we too are conditioned and therefore limited by it. The Buddha described this situation as the process of pratitya-samutpada, in which natural forces, both conditioned and conditioning, flow on through this existence. The Buddha also taught about an escape from this conditioned world, also, which we will come to a little later.

The other term used in this verse is “the world of transience.” In other words, this life lasts only a short time, a fleeting moment on the cosmic scale, and is therefore impermanent, too. It’s a sobering fact to reflect that not only are all individual creatures impermanent, but also entire ecosystems, indeed entire worlds. Not only are our thoughts and emotions temporary, but also the bodies that host them. In fact, the world itself will not last forever, as no planet does, and even the sun that it orbits will one day – in a few billion years – expire. Indeed, the two predominant theories in modern cosmology predict that the universe itself will eventually end, either in a ‘big crunch’ (the opposite to a big bang), or in an entropic cosmic expanding and fading into nothingness. To identify as being an ephemeral being on an impermanent world, in a dying universe is ultimately...unsatisfying (duhkha).

This quality of existence as being unsatisfying lies at the heart of the Buddha’s teaching, as he saw it and variant meanings of the word duhkha (suffering, angst, misery, etc.) as being the main problem in human life. If we transcend duhkha, we no longer live unsatisfying lives, and in the process no longer construct a suffering, ignorant self dependent upon a transient and conditioned world. The Buddha also declared that it is possible to achieve this, for as he put it, there is an unconditioned (asamskrta) as well as the conditioned (samskrta), and the unconditioned is without form and limits, and is therefore without duhkha. He did not, however, state that it is in knowing all the Sanskrit lingo and related philosophical summersaults that we realize the original and unconditioned, but that it is in direct experience, out of reach of the intellect. Of course, in preparing us for enlightenment, for that is what is being discussed here, some knowledge of the Buddha’s teachings are helpful, and also when sharing this vision they come in pretty handy, too. But the experience of awakening itself is not a result of knowing this or that philosophical concept, for it is beyond all concepts. We must learn a little to lose all – and when we have lost all, we will know ‘it.’ It is in the hope of having at least a glimpse of this awakening to the unconditioned that the following exercise has been included in this article. Please try it out with an open mind, and see if the unconditioned is revealed.

Look at your hand. See its shape, its colour, its solidity. Turn it around, and note the physical sensation of this action. To deepen the sense of the manifest nature of it, feel it with your other one – if you don’t have another one, a foot can be used for the same purpose, or nose, etc.). Look at what your hand is connected to – hopefully your wrist! Trace the veins that run to and from your hand, carrying vital blood. See how your hand grows out of, and is conditioned by, the rest of your body. Take a further moment to consider how your arm is conditioned by your DNA, and by human evolution (or whatever form of creation you believe in!). You are examining a completely conditioned thing. Now turn your attention around to that which is observing your hand. Actually look closely and see if it has any features whatsoever. Is there any shape, colour, or solidity here? Is that which observes your hand (and the rest of ‘you,’ including your thoughts and emotions) completely unconditioned? Is it not formless awareness that takes in your mental and physical sensations and either identifies with them, or not? And, reflecting on Bankei’s teachings on self-made enemies, does that which is unconditioned also have enemies?

If we live from the unconditioned rather than as conditioned individuals, both the Buddha and Bankei argue that the conditioned world will take care of itself, naturally, and all that’s left to do here is to keep on recognizing that there’s nobody home. Such a nobody has no enemies, self-made or otherwise. There are no inner demons to haunt one’s self, because there’s no self to be haunted in the first place. This conditioned and transient world flows on under its own steam, and there’s nobody here to suffer the consequences. This isn’t to mean that these thoughts, feelings, and bodies should be ignored or abused; quite the opposite. When there’s nobody here to be separate to the rest of the world, the world is seen for what it is, interrelated and dependently-arising. And, all those that make up its body deserve respect and care, all equal expressions of a living, loving organism spinning in the void.

On Awakening Part 6

2011-03-27T00:01:00.002+07:00

We continue our reflections on the Buddha’s above description of awakening, or enlightenment, by examining Purity and Freedom. The heart of these reflections are not the words themselves, nor the exercises imbedded in the text, but the experience to which they point. That the Buddha used so many different and differing words to describe awakening – he used many more than in the above paragraph – reveals the diverse expressions of it, and the many Dharma Gates to ‘enter’ it. Hopefully, we may stroll through such a Gate together and bask on the other Shore, in the Everlasting contentment of enlightenment.

· Purity (Suddhi) Buddhism has been defined as ‘the Path to Purification’ (Visuddhimagga in Pali) by such luminaries as Buddhaghosa, the fifth century monk-scholar. Now, we can define purity in a moral sense, or an aesthetic sense. Different societies and cultures have varied ideas on the exact forms that moral purity should take, but some basics are not to kill, steal, commit sexual misconduct, and lie. These four moral concepts form all but one of the Five Precepts of Buddhism, which are the foundation of living a virtuous life, according to the Buddha. (The fifth precept is to refrain from intoxicants, which also allows for a ‘pure’ mind.) If we define purity in terms of aesthetics, that is to say beauty, we may judge life on its appearance, and how it appeals to our notions of what is attractive or not. From this perspective, a rose may be deemed beautiful or ‘pure’ in an aesthetic sense, whereas a weed may be considered ugly and impure.

These kinds of purity are changeable however, not only dependent on the particular society or culture they come from, but also from one individual to another. Furthermore, even individuals can alter their moral or aesthetic standards depending on what stage in their lives they’re at, or even what mood they’re in at that moment. Are your morals exactly the same as when you were a child or a youth, and do you listen only to the same music you did when you were a teenager? For most of us, at least, our sense of purity alters through life, sometimes minute to minute. This is because we change as we age, year to year, second to second. Naturally, as we evolve through this life, so do our opinions of what constitutes purity, as this too is based on our personality and its likes and dislikes. But, what if purity is not defined in terms of ego or its preferences, but on that which precedes it? If this seems somewhat obscure, we can investigate it more clearly by actually discovering this selfless purity and then comparing with egotistically-developed notions of what is pure or not.

Listen to the sounds arising in this moment: do you consider them pleasant, unpleasant, or a mixture of the two. Perhaps they are neutral for you and inspire no particular response. So, would you consider them to be pure sounds, that is to say truly beautiful, or not? Take some time to really listen to the noises in the present, and also note your reactions to them. Now, shift attention away from these sounds to that which is listening. Is it a particular sound or set of sounds, or is it a pure silence in which they are heard? Does it have any qualities at all that can be responded to? Listening here, this spaciousness in which all sounds occur is without any audible qualities itself, but instead takes on the particularities of whatever noises are in it. There’s no gap between spacious Purity and sounds, just the fact of noise existing in this Silence. Is it the same for you upon reflection?

Well, now that Purity has been revealed, how does it compare with our previous ideas of what constitutes it? Looking at morality, it’s clear that living a morally good life – as represented by the Five Precepts listed above – is a positive and worthwhile way to conduct ourselves in society. But there’s a kind of forced aspect to this kind of purity, for it is ultimately a falsity in that it isn’t a naturally occurring pureness. In contrast, the compassion and wisdom that can arise out of recognizing the Purity at our heart is wholly natural and unforced. It is a pure virtue, born of recognizing and living form Purity. Similarly, ideas of an aesthetic purity that lifts us and inspires us with its beauty is all too often short-lived, whereas this inner Purity never fades like a rose; it never decays turning pulchritude putrid. Purity exists wherever we are, whatever our scenery, and whatever cacophony may be going on. We just need to listen.

· Freedom (Mutti) Freedom is a widely desired state. Nations like America and Thailand consider themselves ‘Lands of Freedom’ (despite the experiences of so many to the contrary in both countries!). Freedom of speech, freedom of expression, freedom of religion, freedom of eating spaghetti – there are so many kinds of freedom sought after and cherished. Political prisoners, convicted criminals, abused children, battered wives, battered fish, all seeking freedom. And, yet, when these freedoms are gained, within a generation or two, or even within the same generation, they become taken for granted, or even criticized as faulted or not that important. Why is this? What is it within us that can desire something so deeply and then dismiss it as almost irrelevant to our happiness? In a word, self. Or, in four words, the sense of self. The sense of being a self, in other words the ego, can never be satisfied by its very nature. This is why so many millionaires and billionaires cannot rest on their wealth and simply enjoy it (or enjoy sharing it for that matter). The illusory ego drives them on to gain more and more, pushing them ‘till the day they die; darn rich but darrn unsatisfied!

So, if neither freedom to express one’s political views nor the freedom to buy half of the Caribbean make one satisfied, what freedom does? The freedom from the delusion of self, that’s what! As long as we associate with these limited and limiting illusory personalities we will never be free from their propensity to suffer. True happiness is never experienced by an individual because a) the individual doesn’t really exist, and b) happiness is the absence of the delusion of there being a self. The question may arise, if there’s no self, who’s having this delusion? The answer is no one. There is the delusion of being a self which occurs in spacious awareness, contracting its otherwise free and endless expanse into either a tiny frame called the human body, or worse, the human mind. Atheists are in a prison that defines them as a series of psychophysical processes, whereas those that believe in eternal souls are trapped in the prison of believing that the self is just this. Either way, suffering arises out of the delusion of being a self, whether it’s a kind of automated bone bag, or a wispy ethereal ego.

Are you the body? Take a few precious moments to explore this question, answering it honestly based on the evidence. Look at ‘your’ body; see its various shapes and colours, feel its itches and aches, the textures of its skin and hairs (if you have any hair, that is!). Do they respond to your every command? Well, sometimes they do, sometimes they don’t. You can order your arm to rise up, and you can instruct your eyes to close. But, can you tell those aches to stop, or your nose to cease smelling? And what of the mind: surely that obeys your (its) commands when told to? Nah! Yes, you can conjure up specific images in your imagination, and you can repeat a word mentally for at least a short time, but when depressed, can you direct your mind to be happy, and if obsessive thoughts keep returning, can you dismiss them with just one wish? Not on your life! Both body and mind go their own ways more often than we like to admit because they are nor self. They are natural phenomena following their natural patterns and processes: we just imagine that we in charge! Furthermore, imagining thus, we create the illusion of being a self in charge of a body and a mind, and (for some of us) a soul. What dreams the mind can produce – as there was ever such a thing!

We can see beyond these imaginary selves if awareness is recognized as that which is the background upon which they are painted. Body and mind (and ‘soul,’ if taken to be a separate, distinct self) are data appearing on the monitor screen of awareness, the latter preceding and following on from the former. And yet, while there is both awareness and consciousness of phenomena, there is no gap between them; No-thing and everything are unified in this present moment. The fundamental difference then, is whether awareness and its contents are both recognized or not. If only awareness is experienced, we have a kind of awake void with nothing to focus on (but No-thing itself, of course), and experience of this is attested to in some Buddhist meditation traditions. Indeed, some of these traditions consider the experience of naked awareness in absorptive meditation a necessary prelude to full awakening. We cannot remain in these absorptions all the time, however, and what would be the point of living if we did? On the other hand, to only be aware of mental and physical happenings (the world) is to live in suffering ignorance of our deepest nature. (And, this is what most of humanity seem to do most of the time.) The simultaneous recognition of what’s ‘there’ with what’s ‘here’ results in simply what is in this moment, free of the bondage of taking these egos to be permanent entities. This is Freedom.

In truth, beyond the delusion of selfhood, we are both the Purity that lies at the heart of every apparent thing. This Purity is pure awareness itself, full of the world, but ultimately untainted by it. It is untainted because it is free of any egoistic surface upon which anything might alight, and has, therefore, justly been called Freedom by the Buddha. Isn’t it wonderful to realize that no matter what impurities we previously might have attached to our sense of self, we are in fact Purity itself, and this because there is no self in the first place! Furthermore, this lack of self means that we can never be imprisoned in the chains of suffering, because there is no one here to suffer. Sadhu, Lord Buddha! Sadhu!

Buddha & Eckhart: On Good Practices

2011-03-19T00:01:00.001+07:00

"Any one devotional practice has things which others lack, but the effectiveness of good practices comes from God alone and is denied to none of them, for one form of goodness cannot conflict with another. Therefore people should remember that if they see or hear of a good person who is following a way which is different from theirs, then they are wrong to think that such a person's efforts are all in vain. If someone else's way of devotion does not please them, then they are ignoring the goodness in it as well as that person's good intention. This is wrong. We should see the true feeling in people's devotional practices and should not scorn the particular way that anyone follows. Not everyone can follow the same way, nor can we follow all the different ways or everyone else's way." (Davies p.29)

Eckhart's wisdom was not limited to theology, but included the practical side of the spiritual life. And, in the above quotation, he displays his wisdom with regard "devotional practice," advising people not to look down on others' practices, simply because they differ to one's own. Because Eckhart was a Christian, he advises on devotional practices rather than meditative ones, as the Buddha did, but this does not mean that this advice is useless for Buddhists, because what Eckhart has to teach is as equally applicable to the buddhist way of life as it is the Christian one. For example, when he says that "Anyone devotional practice has things that others lack," this is also true of Buddhist methods of meditation. There is anapanasati (mindfulness-of-breath-meditation), cankama (walking meditation), and metta-bhavana (cultivation of goodwill), all found in the earliest known Buddhist scriptures, the Pali Canon (or Tipitaka). Now, each meditation has different techniques and results associated with it, but they all result in goodness, promoting qualities like mindfulness and kindness. It is unhelpful and unwise for someone that practices anapanasati to criticize or belittle someone that practices metta-bhavana; there is no evidence that the Buddha did so, and surely Buddhists would be wise in following his example on this, for just as Eckhart speaks of various devotional practices coming from God, so these meditative practices came from the Buddha.

This principle can be extended, as Eckhart says, to those good people who are "following a way which is different" from our own. For, anapanasati, cankama, and metta-bhavana originate in the Pali Canon, and most Theravada Buddhists will recognize them as valid practices within their tradition. But, what of those that follow a different "way" to Theravada Buddhism? Zen buddhists practice zazen, which whilst a form of Buddhist meditation, it is not one found in the Pali Canon. Is it good for Theravada Buddhists to look down upon or criticize those that prefer zazen? On the other hand, a Zen Buddhist might frown upon Theravada Buddhists' practice as being out of date or superseded by Zen methods. Furthermore, in Shin Buddhism devotees recite the nembutsu (the mantra 'Namu Amida Butsu'), which is even further away from the Pali Canon teachings than Zen Buddhism. (Indeed, it might be argued that Shin Buddhism is more akin to the devotional practices referred to by Meister Eckhart, reflected in the rosary-based-prayers, for example.) Actually, even amongst some Theravada Buddhists the possibility of criticizing others' meditation practices might occur, as in Thailand, for instance, where there is the mantra meditation that uses the word 'Buddho" (a variation on 'Buddha'), which is not found in the Pali Canon nor its commentaries.

So, whether another Buddhist practices anapanasati, cankama, metta-bhavana, zazen, nembutsu, or any of the multitudes of esoteric practices found in Tibetan Buddhism, are we to see their disciplines as inefficacious, simply because they are different to our own? If we are wise, we will follow Eckhart's lead, and at least suspend judgement until we find out more about those practices of which we know very little. And, if we do enquire into the results of many of these meditative practices, we will find that they promote peace, kindness, compassion, wisdom, and the like, all qualities praised by the Buddha. None of them make their practitioners more violent, selfish, ignorant, or stupid. (Not if they're being practices well, that is!) As Eckhart says, "Not everyone can follow the same way," but we can be open to the possibility that other ways have good results. This principle can be extended beyond Buddhism, as well, for it seems a bit churlish to not view other spiritual practices with the same openness, given that it is not a Buddhist that has encouraged us to do it in the first place! (Of course, it may be argued that Eckhart was only addressing Christians when he wrote this advice, but given his generally positive attitude towards 'pagan' teachers, it isn't too much of a stretch to think that he would have sympathy with Buddhist meditators.) The Buddha gave us many different meditative practices, and Buddhism has developed many, many more; if they are applied wisely to our lives, it is surely the case that we will increase in wisdom and compassion. How wonderful!

Note: Meister Eckhart (1260-1327) was a Christian Dominican priest that wrote about the spiritual life in terms that many Buddhists would find both interesting and inspiring. The quotation used in this article has been taken from 'Meister Eckhart: Selected Writings' translated & edited by Oliver Davies, and published by Penguin Classics.

Reflections on Bankei's 'Song of the Mind' Verses 36-38

2011-03-12T00:01:00.003+07:00

“It’s the Buddhas I feel sorry for:

With all those ornaments they wear

They must be dazzled

By the glare!

Still too soon for you to be

A Buddha in the temple shrine

Make yourself a Deva King

Standing at the gate outside!

If you search for the Pure Land

Bent upon your own reward

You’ll only find yourself despised

By the Buddha after all!”

Bankei Yotaku (1622-1693) was a Zen master that never stood on ceremony when he felt it obstructed the truth of enlightenment. Neither was he a man to engage in empty rituals simply because everyone around him did so. He also had a lack of fear which is a characteristic of fully enlightened ones, who no longer take themselves to be a self that needs to fear for its safety. This transcendence of both ritualism and fear are wonderfully illustrated in the three verses above, and I will do my utmost to expand on them in as enlightening manner as is possible. Hopefully, the old Zen master will not spit on me from on high!

“It’s the Buddhas I feel sorry for:

With all those ornaments they wear

They must be dazzled

By the glare!”

Bankei had wit and knew how to use it; he was also no idolater. In this verse he pokes fun at those people who focus too much attention on statues, and not what such images symbolize. In Buddhist countries to this day, temples are full of statues of buddhas, bodhisattvas, arahants, and the like. All of them prayed to and pleaded with to help people with their personal affairs, rather than used to contemplate the qualities that they represent. Bankei feigns sympathy for these highly worshiped idols, suggesting that they are sorry beings trapped in ostentatious prisons built by overzealous acolytes.

As hinted at above, there is a place for images of the Buddha and other Buddhist figures in the Buddhist way of life. Although some Pali Canon enthusiasts will correctly inform us that there were no such images during the Buddha’s lifetime, and apparently for several centuries afterwards, others will tell us that if used skilfully, they can be an important aid to our practice. And, this is surely the more important approach to Buddhist imagery; use it wisely to cultivate positive mind states and wisdom. We don’t need to be a kind of Buddhist Taliban, destroying statues to prove our own sense of righteousness, but neither should we misuse them, making them into false gods.

“Still too soon for you to be

A Buddha in the temple shrine

Make yourself a Deva King

Standing at the gate outside!”

Bankei continues in a playful mood, teasing his reader that they are not ready for enlightenment just yet, neither to be considered a Buddha nor worthy of residence in a temple shrine! If we are wise we will not take offence at such remarks, but use them as a source for reflection: is this true or untrue? Are we as enlightened as we think we are; are we enlightened at all? (On the other hand, he may still be toying with the statues themselves, remarking that despite all their outer glory, inwardly they posses no enlightened awareness, and are therefore not as important as the people that like to worship them.)

Bankei next makes reference to the ‘Deva Kings’ that can be found at the temple gate, who are there to act as guardians of the temple, preventing evil spirits from entering the temple grounds. These are a common sight in Japan, and equivalent statues of similar beings, often ferocious in appearance are found in other countries’ Buddhist temples, as well. These beings are not enlightened like the figures to be found further in the temple, and are therefore not so generously decorated. Bankei seems to be suggesting that these more worldly figures are freer than the buddhas within that are weighed down with all their ornaments.

There’s a slightly deeper point here, of course, as we might expect from a wise Zen master like Bankei. Zen Buddhism has always promoted a somewhat worldly view of Buddhist awakening, with the well known idea of ‘marketplace enlightenment,’ where wise ones take their realizations out from the temples and monasteries into the ‘real world.’ Whilst the statues of the Buddha may be taken to symbolize the highly-lauded monastic and priestly lifestyles, the Deva King images can be seen to represent the lay life.it may well be that Bankei is encouraging us to live the awakened life in the midst of the marketplace, or the World Wide Web, for that matter!

“If you search for the Pure Land

Bent upon your own reward

You’ll only find yourself despised

By the Buddha after all!”

Here we return briefly to the subject of the previous verses covered in Reflections on Bankei’s ‘Song of the Mind’ Verses 33-35.’ But now the master is more explicit, mentioning Amitabha Buddha’s Pure Land by name. Bankei makes it clear that to spend our time and efforts in the hope of personal salvation in Amitabha’s heavenly realm is basically a selfish endeavour – unless of course we do so with other people’s benefit in mind as well. Knowing us as he does, however, Bankei brings into focus our usual selfish motives when wishing for heavenly rewards.

Even in this verse, we are treated to Bankei’s wit, when he sates that if we practice with our own salvation as the main motivation, the Buddha will despise us! (Does the Buddha ‘despise’ anyone?) Presumably, he does mean the heavily ornamented Buddha in the shrine hall, but the inner Buddha that is found in the heart of us all. In other words, we will despise ourselves if we are motivated by purely selfish means. Perhaps this resentment will be subconscious – negative feelings towards one’s self are often repressed – but it will be there, for deep down we all know that we are one and that your salvation is my salvation and my enlightenment is your enlightenment. Please take a few moments to complete the following exercise – you might find it enlightening!

Look at a statue of a Buddha. (If you don’t have one, a picture will do.) Take in the expression on its face; what qualities are reflected in that facade? Serenity? Contentment? Wisdom? Compassion? Look at the overall posture of the image. If sat, is it relaxed, alert, and/or peaceful? If standing, is it dynamic, graceful, and/or mindful? Now, where are these qualities perceived – in that image or in you? Who is aware in this moment – that image or you? Who is enlightened right now – that image or you?

So, was Bankei correct? Are Buddha statues often over-decorated? Should we worship them, and hang expensive ornaments on them or cover them in gold? Does the Buddha reside in such images, and if not, what are our motives for bowing to them? Are they to be treated with the utmost respect, or is it okay to occasionally poke fun at them (and those that worship them)? And what of you – are you a Buddha or a Deva King...or neither?

On Awakening Part 5

2011-03-04T00:01:00.006+07:00

We continue our reflections on the Buddha’s above description of awakening, or enlightenment, by examining the Marvelous and Nirvana. The heart of these reflections are not the words themselves, nor the exercises imbedded in the text, but the experience to which they point. That the Buddha used so many different and differing words to describe awakening – he used many more than in the above paragraph – reveals the diverse expressions of it, and the many Dharma Gates to ‘enter’ it. Hopefully, we may stroll through such a Gate together and bask on the other Shore, in the Everlasting contentment of enlightenment.

· The Marvelous (Abbhuta) There are many things to marvel at in this universe: the Grand Canyon, a mother’s love, Saturn’s rings, a humming bird in flight, the Himalayas, and an beehive, to name but a few. All these are natural phenomena, but there are other marvelous things made by human hands to consider: Stonehenge, Homer’s Odyssey, the Hubble Space Telescope, the Great Wall of China, silicon chips, and van Gogh’s Sunflowers, as a brief sample. Which is the most marvelous and awe inspiring? The majesty of the Himalayas or the ingenuity of the Hubble Space Telescope? How would we begin to compare them? Each of the marvels mentioned above is astounding in its own right, and worthy of our appreciation, but there’s a sobering point to be remembered. This point is that all them are subject to change, deterioration and eventual destruction, as evidenced in the current condition of the Great Wall and Stonehenge. Neither natural nor manmade beehive last forever, and the Himalayas will wither away in time. All of the amazing things are ephemeral because they are things. No thing lasts forever.

What is it that is aware of the marvels written of above? It is awareness itself, and it is the contention of this article that awareness is the Marvelous that the Buddha referred to, and which not only encapsulates the things above, but also outlasts them. Awareness can know a van Gogh painting just as it can the Grand Canyon. With the assistance of the Hubble Space Telescope and other such devices, awareness can know distance stars and the rings of Saturn. By contrast, a humming bird cannot be aware of the Hubble Space Telescope, and Stonehenge cannot know Homer’s Odyssey. In addition, whereas all things are impermanent, awareness (which we may call No-thing because of its incorporeal and empty nature) is not a thing in the first place and therefore cannot die. No-thing lasts forever.

To illustrate the nature of the Marvelous in practical terms, we can utilize the scent of a rose. If you don’t have a rose to hand, another fragrant flower will do, or anything with a nice smell for that matter. Unwashed socks are probably a bad idea – at least not just yet! Close your eyes and focus attention on the pleasant aroma, taking in its marvelous ‘bouquet.’ Now, reveres your attention to that in which the smell is known – does that have a particular scent associated with it? Is it not the case that awareness – for that is what we are discussing here – is without any smell, and is therefore able to be aware of smells, just as it is without appearance, and is therefore able to be aware of sights, the same with thoughts, sounds, tastes, and tactile sensations. Awareness is the marvelous in which all the marvels of existence are given space to be known; no awareness and no knowledge of the wonders of the world. Awareness is the marvelous backdrop to our existence, and is therefore the Marvelous, without which, life is impossible.

· Nirvana/Nibbana (Extinction or Unbinding)

Now here’s a word every self-respecting Buddhist should know – or should that be no-self-respecting Buddhist?! That’s a deliberately humorous opening to this brief exploration of this central Buddhist concept, for it seems here that too many Buddhists are somewhat po-faced about it, especially those learned types who probably haven’t even experienced it. Moreover, perhaps it is the fact that Nirvana remains at the conceptual level for so many Buddhists that they are so darn serious about it. Nevertheless, if we’re to be thorough in our quest to understand Nirvana, we should at least investigate the descriptions of it that are found in Buddhist literature before attempting to actually experience it. (And don’t be fooled by the light mood of these words – Nirvana is indeed awaiting our discovery right here and right now. Read on and hopefully it will be experienced in due course.)

Nirvana – also known by the Pali equivalent Nibbana – has an interesting etymology. Usually it is explained as meaning ‘extinction’ or ‘blowing out,’ which has given it a negative image in the eyes of some. This understanding of the word comes from taking its component parts as nir (‘un-’) and va (‘blowing’), which is rendered as to ‘cease blowing’ or ‘extinction’ in English. To think that the goal of Buddhism is to extinguish the self is a pretty disturbing idea, not altogether appeased by the usual explanation that the self never existed in the first place. The point here is that it is not the self that is extinguished, but the fires of greed, hatred, and delusion which cause the arising of the illusory suffering self. Another, less well-known derivation of the word Nirvana is from the Sanskrit words nir (‘un-’) and vana (‘binding’), which makes ‘Unbinding.’ This inspires the image of being released from restraints, or becoming free from the causes of our suffering. Promoted by the fifth century commentator-monk Buddhaghosa in his monumental ‘The Path of Purification’ (Visuddhimagga), this explanation of the term Nirvana suggests freedom from the bonds of attachment.

As touched upon above, if we look at these (and other) definitions from an intellectual point of view, we will find much to debate about, and may spend the rest of our lives arguing about the real nature of Nirvana. Unfortunately, this will get us no nearer Nirvana itself; merely spin us in ever-entangling circles of thought. No, if we genuinely wish to know what Nirvana is, we must put all these kinds of sophistry to one side, and look at the facts with a fresh, unbiased eye. Perhaps one or both of the definitions of Nirvana given above are correct, but it will benefit us more if we verify this via experience first and then look to define it.

Look at the objects in front of you at this present moment. Closely observe their constituent parts as they appear to you right now; their shapes, sizes, colours, etc. Now do the same with your own body, noting its various elements as presented at the present time; legs, arms, belly, and whatever else is on view! After doing this, turn your attention to that which is doing all this looking, right where your eyes are. What do you see there? Obviously, your eyes are not visible, because they are what you’re looking with, but put this to one side for a moment and actually recognize what’s there where you would normally place yourself. Is there a self where you are, or is there a spacious awareness that’s taking in all that’s on offer?

And, it’s not only physical phenomena that are in contrast to what you really are. Take a look at the thoughts and emotions in your mind at this present moment. Note what you’re thinking about and what your thoughts make of it all; also examine your emotions and notice if they are steady or fluctuating, positive, neutral or negative. Having seen the various contents of your mind, now turn your focus to what they are arising in. Is that a thought or series of thoughts? Is it an emotion of any kind? Or, again, is it a spacious awareness that’s room for every thought, emotion, memory, or any other mental phenomena to occur in?

When ‘I’ look here where ‘I’ took my self to be, ‘I’ lose my self, and yet this is not a negative experience at all. It is a cooling, calming experience that feels ‘just so’ and just right. Accompanying it is a quiet bliss that colours everything arising in it with an equanimous balance of mind. Moreover, where ‘I’ used to think ‘I’ was, the world is seen to be arising in its myriad forms, without any gap between here and there; ‘I’ am in fact not ‘I’ but everything else instead. This is true wisdom which recognizes the interconnection between different elements in the world, and also sees the absence of any separation between here and there. Indeed, without the sense of ‘I,’ there’s no sense of being a separate, suffering self lost in a big, bad world. The world may well be both big and bad at times, but there’s no ‘I’ to be found here to be lost in it; it appears in the spacious awareness.

To experience this spacious awareness is Nirvana, the blowing out of the delusion of being a separate self, an ‘I.’ It is also the ‘unbinding’ of the complicated psychology of egotistic separative existence, releasing what’s left into the unifies awareness of pure being. All this knowledge is not taken from books or heard at the feet of some renowned teacher, either; it comes from direct knowing of what it is to awaken to our true nature in this ever-present present moment. Living from this realization, we may find confirmation of it in Buddhist texts, or we may decide to simply be and see what happens, if anything. And, if we cultivate this awareness, our enlightenment will benefit whomever we encounter, for ‘we’ will no longer be in the way, and whatever we do or say will be right for that person in that moment. Marvelous…

Review: Living This Life Fully by Mirka Knaster

2011-02-26T07:01:00.001+07:00

"Dukkha - this is the noble truth of suffering. This is to be investigated. This is to be explored. This must be examined and discovered. Then comes the cause of suffering. What is the cause of suffering? One must understand, explore, investigate this." ('Living This Life Fully' p.185)

Mirka Knaster, former pupil of Anagarika Munindra, has supplied a copy of her book 'Living This Life Fully: Stories and Teachings of Munindra' so that it might be reviewed on these pages. Now, there's always a risk when someone does this, as the author of this review refuses to write nice stuff about books that he doesn't find well-written or inspirational, but Mirka needn't be perturbed by this statement, as her book passes both criteria comfortably, to say the least. She writes with a warm, insider's view of the man and his teachings, giving intimate insights into Munindra's gentle wisdom, with many other contributors helping in this task, including Sharon Salzberg, Joseph Goldstein, Jack Kornfield, Sylvia Boorstein, Daniel Goleman, Kamala Masters, Christopher Titmuss, S. N. Goenka, Lama Surya Das, and Ram Dass. With the exception of S. N. Goenka, all these well-known meditation teachers studied under Munindra, which illustrates the influence that he has had on Buddhist practice in the West.

"Based on his personal knowledge, Munindra was convinced that even nowadays people are capable of tasting what the Buddha and his disciples experienced more than 2,500 years ago. What may seem out of the ordinary or even impossible is actually within reach of those who make the effort. Yet Munindra never pretended to be extraordinary, exceptional, or perfect. He was simply a flourishing human being, not a saint. With all his idiosyncrasies and fallibility, he walked the path and enabled others to walk it too." (Ibid. p.ix)

Time and again, the contributors to this work describe the soft yet unwavering manner of Munindra that was based in his own cultivation of metta (loving-kindness, or goodwill), recalling how he would gently bring their wandering minds back to the mindfulness of the present by drawing their attention to a small flower or how fruit was stacked on a market stall. They also recount how Munindra devoted his life to imparting Buddhist teachings to anyone that showed an interest, living the life of an anagarika, or homeless layperson so that he had no distracting commitments to either family or monastery. And, as Alan Clements recalls, Munindra had great patience, never talking down to questioners no matter how "dumb" their queries might seem, something echoed in the words of Lama Surya Das who notes that he was "very generous and patient with his time and his knowledge" (Ibid. p.125).

The book contains a brief biography written by Robert Pryor, another student of Munindra, which details his early years in Chittagong, in present day Bangladesh, to his work with Mahabodhi Society (1936-1957), practice and study in Burma with masters such as Mahasi Sayadaw (1957-1966), subsequent teaching in Bodh Gaya (1966-1985) and beyond (1985-2003). Quite a curriculum vitae for a Buddhist teacher! It is not in such facts that Munindra's worth is truly reflected, however, but in the skillful way that Mirka Knaster has woven the testaments of his many students into a coherent and stimulating read. Munundra comes across as an unassuming but uncompromising man, always willing to give of his wisdom, but not expecting anything in return. But, as the book illustrates, it wasn't just wisdom that he shared, for when he received gifts from grateful students, he was likely to pass them on to people in greater need than himself. An amusing anecdote that shows the human side to the man is remembered by Vivian Darst:

"Throughout our trip to Europe, my friend and I were lugging around Munindra's luggage with all this stuff he was taking back to India. I used to give him a really bad time about it because I had to carry it into all these cars and planes. I used to say, 'You could buy it in India.' And he'd say, 'No, not the same quality.' I asked, 'What is it all for?' He wanted to give presents to family and friends, especially a lot of little children in Bodh Gaya." (Ibid. pp.54-55)

Knaster has organized the book into chapters each focusing on an aspect of the Buddha's teaching, such as Sati (Mindfulness), Dana (Generosity), Metta (Loving-Kindness), and Upekkha (Equanimity). As well featuring the stories and teachings of Munindra, every chapter ends with a neat definition of its main theme (such as 'Sati'), reflecting Munidra's own dependence on the Pali Canon as a source of validity for his own understandings and teachings. This makes the book more accessible to those that are not so familiar with Pali Buddhism, and helps those of us who have a propensity to forget what Pali we do know! Again, as useful as these sections are, it is the accounts of Munindra's compassionate wisdom that Knaster has done so well in describing, an act of respect to her teacher that does them both credit. It is with such an account that we will finish, here, and I for one am most grateful to Mirka and Munindra for sharing such insight with the world.

"Every step is taking you near the goal. Continuity is the secret of success. Anyone who wants to know the art of living, who wants to experience this Dhamma, has to understand it clearly. But as long as you are expecting, then it will not happen." (Ibid. p.127)

Magha Puja (Sangha Day)

2011-02-18T00:01:00.001+07:00

The Buddha preaches the Ovada-patimokkha Gatha

Magha Puja is the day when Buddhists commemorate the occasion when 1250 enlightened monks spontaneously met to hear the Buddha’s sermon known as the Ovada-patimokkha Gatha. For those of us not familiar with this text, here’s a translation of it:

“Patient endurance is the foremost austerity.

Nirvana is foremost: that’s what the Buddha’s say.

He is no monk who injures another;

Nor is he a contemplative who mistreats another.

The non-doing of any evil,

The performance of what’s skillful,

The cleansing of one’s own mind:

This is the Buddhas’ teaching.

Not disparaging, not injuring,

Restraint in line with the monastic code,

Moderation in food, dwelling in seclusion,

Commitment to the heightened mind:

This is the Buddhas’ teaching.”

Considering the fact that the Buddha surely gave these teachings to reflect on, rather than turn into an institutionalized recitation in an elaborate ceremony, let’s examine it a little, seeing what it can teach us. And, although it’s clear from the gatha that it’s primary audience are monks, it’s essential meanings can be easily extended to all Buddhists, ordained or not. (If you feel you have reflections to share on the gatha, they are most welcome; please do so by leaving a comment at the bottom of this article.)

The statement “Patient endurance is the foremost austerity” is a well known utterance of the Buddha’s in Thailand, and the late great meditation master Ajahn Chah put much emphasis on it, as often recalled by his most senior western disciple Ajahn Sumedho. The original Pali word for “patient endurance’ is khanti, and it is one of the 10 perfections promoted by the Buddha as being highly virtuous and conducive to realizing enlightenment. It not only denotes patience, but also forgiveness and forbearance.

Why are patience and forgiveness valued so highly in the Buddha’s teachings? Well, as to patience, it is clearly an advantage to have such a quality in a close-knit community such as the Buddhist monastic one. No Buddhist wants to see monks or nuns lose patience with each other and argue or even fight. Inwardly, patience is also a valuable attribute for the meditator to possess, for the fruits of meditation are not always that immediate, and it may take years for its benefits to emerge. Getting impatient is a common obstacle confronted by beginner meditators – and those of us that have been doing it for years, too!

Forgiveness is an important quality to possess for the same two reasons given above: in a monastic community having members who are forgiving of each other’s foibles will allow the community to run much more smoothly. And, not getting angry with one’s self when meditation doesn’t seem to be ‘working’ is a powerful tool in being able to sustain one’s practice and cultivate wisdom that otherwise would have remained hidden. On a personal note, after marrying, my wife and I went to the International Forest Monastery here in Ubon Rathchathani and asked the then abbot Ajahn Jayasaro for some marital advice. He paused for a second or two while I suddenly thought what a silly question to ask a monk, and then he gave us a short exhortation on patience. Afterwards, we thought what sound advice it was, and here we are ten years later still happily married.

The following words on nirvana are no surprise coming from the Buddha, and as it is an ongoing subject for reflection here on ‘Buddha Space,’ it will be glossed over for now. The next lines are a subject not often commented on in these pages, however, so let’s take a few moments to consider them. “He is no monk who injures another” is a clear reminder that monks (and nuns) should cultivate harmlessness (ahimsa) towards all beings, as in the spirit of the Metta Sutta, when the Buddhist wishes that ‘all beings may be happy.’

The Buddha also stated that “Nor is he a contemplative who mistreats another.” Inflicting injury is usually associated with doing physical harm, and this obviously against the monastic code, but to mistreat another is a much broader term and can include verbal insults or rudeness. The nuances of language can often disguise such behaviour, but it can be detected in monastics as well as fellow meditators relatively often. People are people, of course, and in the case of the laity at least, we can recognize that to err is human, and a degree of forgiveness is required. Even with inexperienced monks and nuns this approach holds water, but if we encounter long term meditating renunciates that are rude or unforgiving with others, alarm bells and not meditation bells should start ringing!

The next verse is one of the most famous in Buddhism, and is often found near the header of Buddhist websites (i.e. the excellent ‘Access to Insight’). It is a succinct summing up of the Buddhist teachings and has inspired many in their efforts to walk the eightfold path. “The non-doing of any evil,” covers those deeds that the Buddha advised us to restrain from, such as killing, stealing, committing sexual misconduct, lying, and consuming intoxicants (the five precepts). It also includes such topics as the five trades to be avoided: do not trade in weapons, poisons, meat, living beings, or intoxicants.

The next line, “The performance of what’s skilful” makes reference to doing what’s good towards our families, teachers, neighbours, etc., as well as taking care of the monastic community. It also covers living our lives in ways that help in developing heedfulness, kindness, compassion, and, of course, patience, amongst other positive qualities. “The cleansing of one’s own mind” means mindfulness and meditation techniques, used to cultivate mind states that pave the way for enlightenment.

Further advice from the Buddha in the Ovada-patimokkha Gatha consists of “Not disparaging” and “not injuring” others: sound guidance for all of us, for certain. This is basically a repetition of the instructions in the first verse, which acts to reinforce their importance; monks, nuns, and laypeople should not indulge in such behaviour if we wish to be part of a harmonious community, let alone awaken to enlightenment. This is echoed in the next line which promotes “Restraint in line with the monastic code,” or for those of us not in robes, the code of conduct for the laity, touched upon above in the references to the five precepts and five trades to be avoided.

“Moderation in food, dwelling in seclusion ” and “ Commitment to the heightened mind” continue the wise advice from the Buddha to us all. It’s not just healthy to not overindulge in food and drink, it’s also good for our spiritual development, promoting self-control and strong determination. Dwelling in seclusion helps our meditation practice, of course, and whilst monasteries can be perfect environments for this purpose, if we live in relatively quiet areas and organize our home life appropriately, secluded moments for meditative development can be created.

Finally, it’s worth reflecting on the line that ends both verse two and three: “This is the Buddhas’ teaching.” The apostrophe is not in the wrong place here, for as any grammarian will tell you, if the apostrophe appears after the s in relation to the word Buddhas, it means that it is referring to more than one enlightened being. This reflects the original Pali of the text, and is no mistake. The Buddha often taught that he was not the first (nor the last) Buddha, and that all Buddhas teach the same Doctrine & Discipline (Dhamma ca Vinaya). Therefore, when it is written that what appears in the Ovada-patimokkha Gatha is the teaching of the Buddhas’, it indicates that it is not the product of a single (albeit enlightened) mind, but is a collection of eternal truths that were as valid in the distant past as they are today, and will continue to be as valid in the millennia to come.

Buddha & Eckhart: On Peace & Eternity

2011-02-11T00:01:00.002+07:00

Meister (Master) Eckhart

"God is a God of the present. He takes you and receives you as he finds you now, not as you have been, but as you are now." (Davies p.22)

To live in the present moment is a maxim that is promoted by many these days, including sportsman, artists, psychologists, and, of course, Buddhist teachers. To be alert to the present is a teaching that goes right the way back to the Buddha himself, according to the scriptures that we posses. In the Mahasatipatthana Sutta, a seminal text on mindfulness and meditation, the Buddha says, "Furthermore, when walking, the monk discerns, 'I am walking.' When standing, he discerns, 'I am standing.' When sitting, he discerns, 'I am sitting.' When lying down, he discerns, 'I am lying down.' Or however his body is disposed, that is how he discerns it." If Gos is a God of the present, then the Buddha is a Buddha of the present, too! In their different ways, the Buddha and Eckhart encourage us to live in the present moment, not lost in reveries of the past and future. For, from such focused awareness can arise the wisdom to see beyond the limitations of the egoistic self, thereby dying into what a Buddhist would call nirvana, and Eckhart names God.

"Do you know how God is God is God? God is God because there is nothing of the creature in him. He has never been named within time. Creatures, sin and death belong to time. In a certain sense they are all related, and since the soul has fallen away from time if she has fallen away from the world, there is neither pain or suffering there. Indeed, tribulation turns to joy for her there. If we were to compare everything which ha ever been conceived of regarding delight and joy, bliss and pleasure, with the delight which belongs to this birth, then it would be as nothing." (Davies p.117)

When Eckhart refers to the creature, he is making reference to the psycho-phyisical part of us all, and when he mentions God, he is describing the unconditioned element that lies at our very heart. In nirvana, there is no identification with the creaturely part of our being; it is known and cared for, as both wisdom and compassion flow out of the void, but it is not thought of of as being 'me.' For Eckhart, God is the same, without any sense of being an individual, separated being. he is without characteristics, just like the indescribable unconditioned that the Buddha taught about. Furthermore, God is betting the reach of time, and therefore death, unlike all created, mortal creatures. nirvana is like this also; the Buddha described it as being free of birth, aging, and death, which all occur within time. The pure awareness at the heart of our being is not so limited however, for it is not creaturely in nature, and when he uses the word 'soul,' this is what Eckhart refers to, not some ethereal, floating astral being. So, according to both the Buddha and Eckhart, whether in meditative states or in enlightened ones, this awareness is also out of time, just like God.

"As far as you are in God, thus far you are in peace, and as far as you are outside God, thus far you are outside peace. If only something is in God, then it has peace. It is in peace in so far as it is in God. And you can tell how far you are in God, or not, by the extent to which you have peace or not. For where you lack peace, you must necessarily lack peace, since lack of peace comes from the creature and not from God. Nor is there anything to fear in God, for all that is in him can only be loved. Similarly there is nothing in him to cause us sadness." (Davies p.51)

Peace is emphasized by both Eckhart and the Buddha. Indeed, the latter described nirvana as peace, or at least the ultimate form of peace. Clearly, from the text above, Eckhart does not equate God with peace - although in an ultimate sense of the term, he may well do so elsewhere - but he does give peace a big importance in the spiritual life. And, this sense of peace as a fruit of spiritual practice is also used by the Buddha, who saw it as a result of being mindful and meditative. And, certainly one's progress in the noble eightfold path of the Buddha can be calculated to some extent, at least, by the amount of peace that one has in one's every day life. if we are walking around in a constant rage, wanting to hit this person or kick that person, it's a safe bet that we need to meditate or pray a little more often!

Eckhart also states that there is no fear nor sadness in God. This is also true if we have a strong level of mindfulness, which can help us to let go of such negative states of mind. This is so because as our meditation deepens we become aware of these emotions and what creates them in us - and we can then let go of them by ceasing to recreate those negative influences. Moreover, when we see beyond these limited egos, we become alive to the spacious awareness that lies beyond the sense of self, and then fear, sadness, and the like melt away into the void that shines so brightly. Such a state, whether reached through the devotional practices of a Christian contemplative like Meister Eckhart, or through a systematic Buddhist meditative life, is both peaceful and out of time. It is the serene eternity which Eckhart called God and the Buddha named nirvana.

Note: Meister Eckhart (1260-1327) was a Christian Dominican priest that wrote about the spiritual life in terms that many Buddhists would find both interesting and inspiring. The quotes used in this article have been taken from 'Meister Eckhart: Selected Writings' translated & edited by Oliver Davies, and published by Penguin Classics.

Reflections on Bankei's 'Song of the Mind' Verses 33-35

2011-02-03T00:01:00.003+07:00

“Praying for salvation in the world to come

Praying for your own selfish ends

Is only piling on more and more

Self-centeredness and arrogance

Nowadays I'm tired of

Praying for salvation too

I just move along at my ease

Letting the breath come and go

Die - then live

Day and night within the world

Once you've done this, then you can

Hold the world right in your hand!”

Bankei Yotaku (1622-1693) was an uncompromising Zen master. Now, many readers will be familiar with the uncompromising Zen masters in the texts, especially the ones from Tang Dynasty China such as Mazu, Huangbo, and Linji. Bankei was different from these masters, however, in that he did not usually, if ever, shout or hit his disciples to shock them into awakening to the Dharma. Instead, Bankei used words, often reminding his students that the only tool he had was his tongue (for speaking with, that is). Moreover, he used words to direct his listeners back to that which was listening, often specifically referencing the act of hearing in an attempt to help arouse enlightenment. As can be seen below, he did not support those practices that he saw as unhelpful to awakening.

“Praying for salvation in the world to come

Praying for your own selfish ends

Is only piling on more and more

Self-centeredness and arrogance”

The phrase “Praying for salvation in the world to come” may sound like it was directed at Christians, Muslims, or other such theistic religionists, but it was probably aimed at Japanese Buddhists, as there is a strong salvation-based tradition in the East known as Pure Land Buddhism. Most Pure Land devotees practice with the intent of being reborn in Amitabha Buddha’s heavenly realm, or pure land, where they can then achieve enlightenment. Bankei, however, clearly didn’t see this as a useful use of one’s time, and even condemned it as “Praying for your own selfish ends,” and “Self-centredness and arrogance.” Wow, he really was uncompromising!

If we practice simply for our own salvation or enlightenment, we are being self-centred, are we not? What about everyone else; don’t we wish to help them awaken, too? Here, Bankei is getting at the sense of being a separate egoistic self, and encouraging us to have a broader perspective when it comes to spiritual awakening. If we put off any serious attempt at realizing enlightenment in this life, for whatever selfish reasons we may have, we deny all those other people that we might have helped if we had achieved a high level of awakening in this life. And, it’s useful to know that devotional religions like Pure Land Buddhism, Christianity, Islam, Judaism, Hinduism, et cetera, all have mystical traditions that encourage both compassion and awakening right now, rather than at some undisclosed point in the future.

“Nowadays I'm tired of

Praying for salvation too

I just move along at my ease

Letting the breath come and go”

In this verse, Bankei gives precedence to “Letting the breath come and go” over “Praying for salvation.” This can be taken two ways, and it’s highly probable that Bankei wished it so, being the shrewd old Zen master that he was. Firstly, “Letting the breath come and go” can refer to simply living life spontaneously, allowing things to arise and dissolve as they may. Very Zennish and typical of the post-enlightenment verse and sayings produced by many a Zen master.

The second interpretation of this term, “Letting the breath come and go” is that it alludes to anapanasati, or ‘in-out-breath meditation,’ which is the main from of meditation taught by the Buddha in the Pali Canon. Although Zen Buddism is famous for its zazen style meditation, where the sitter either focuses on a Zen riddle (koan in Japanese), or just sits with a quiet, alert mind, in also makes use of breath meditation. In Japanese Zen monasteries today, a new meditator will often be given a form of breath meditation to begin with. Anyway, it’s clear from the above verse that Bankei does not give much credence to praying for salvation, which leaves us with the rather radical words below to deal with:

“Die - then live

Day and night within the world

Once you've done this, then you can

Hold the world right in your hand!”

Is Bankei asking us to really die, and then be born again? Well, he writes about dying and then living, but then puts them in the context of “Day and night within the world.” He clearly isn’t referring to actual physical death and rebirth – so what kind of death is he promoting here? He is calling our attention to the death of the self – or at least the death of the delusion of being a self. Bankei is challenging us to see our true nature, which lies beyond the everyday notion of selfhood and the limitations that go with it. This is the spiritual death and rebirth that is found in the literature of such awakened masters as Rumi, Eckhart, and Dogen. As it’s said in some movie, “It’s a good day to die!”

The last line in this verse is just so Zen: “Hold the world right in your hand!” We could take this to be symbolic language, that is, when one is enlightened, it is like one is able to hold the world in one’s hand. But, this sounds somewhat contrived, and makes Bankei out to be a peddler of hyperbole. Is it, in some way, literal, then? Well, we can only truly test this hypothesis if we were actually enlightened in the first place, and thereby able to answer this query. Is this possible, then, to taste enlightenment right now, and then see if the world fits in one’s hand? Let’s try an experiment together and see what occurs...

Listen to the sounds that you can presently hear. Take a few seconds to recognise and label each sound, working through them one by one, until you cannot identify any new ones. (You may be surprised by the number of different sounds that you can detect – we are so often caught up in our own little world that we fail to notice the actual world around us.) Next, turn your attention around from those sounds to that which is aware of them. Does this have a sound associated with it, or is it soundless? Surely sounds arise in that which is absent of sound, which is to say, there must be a space for objects to exist in. Where is this space right now? Is it located somewhere in front of you or behind you, or is it found to your left, or right, above, or below you? Surely not. Is it not the case that all the sounds that you can hear occur in a spacious silence that is where you previously thought ‘you’ were? (Similar enquiries can be done with the other senses, as well as the mind itself, showing that this is a universal truth that lies at the heart of whichever sense-base we choose to investigate.)

Now, we conducted the above experiment in the hope that we might discover the enlightened state, from which we might see if we can really hold the world in one hand. If, and it’s up to each of us to decide on this matter, we consider experiencing the silence that contains the world of sounds to be enlightenment, then we are now in a position to see where the world is, right now. As we discovered above, the world of sound exists in this silence. We can therefore reckon that the world of sight exists in the silence (which equals the invisible) here, too. Looking now, we can see the world in this silent, invisible awareness, without any division between them. The world is me, I am the world. The world is contained in this hand in the sense that it is this hand; world, hand, and awareness are unified, and Bankei sits laughing in the corner, “You have died, but now live! You have died, but now live!”

On Awakening Part 4

2011-01-27T00:01:00.001+07:00

We continue our reflections on the Buddha’s above description of awakening, or enlightenment, by examining the Blest, Safety, and the Wonderful. The heart of these reflections are not the words themselves, nor the exercises imbedded in the text, but the experience to which they point. That the Buddha used so many different and differing words to describe awakening – he used many more than in the above paragraph – reveals the diverse expressions of it, and the many Dharma Gates to ‘enter’ it. Hopefully, we may stroll through such a Gate together and bask on the other Shore, in the Everlasting contentment of enlightenment.

· The Blest (Siva) Siva, often rendered Shiva in Roman script, is the name of one of the main gods in Hinduism, being a member of the Trimurti (Hindu Trinity) that also includes Brahma and Vishnu. Here, however, when used as a synonym for enlightenment, it has the meaning of ‘blest.’ Awakening is the Blest because in the enlightened state we have all the blessings that we need. Not that being awakened means that everything goes our way; far from it. Rather, when we have transcended the delusion of thinking we are a separate self, we live in line with existence, and whatever is happening is what is supposed to be happening. Moreover, we are aware of the fact, although we do not constantly go around thinking, “Oh, everything’s okay because I’m enlightened,” but instead we simply live in tune with whatever’s going on in the present moment.

Existing in unison with life is not total passivity, however. On the contrary, when we need to act, we spontaneously do so, and when we do not need to, we don’t. And, this is not libertinism, either. For, when enlightened, compassion and wisdom naturally flow out of the spacious awareness at one’s heart, acting not for the good of a person presumed to be here, but for the benefit of all beings. It all comes down to self-identity in the end: if we act of the sense of being a self, then our thoughts, words and deeds will obviously be predominately selfish, whereas if we have no sense of being a separate entity, we will be acting for the benefit of everyone. All this may sound wonderful, you might think, but how do we experience it right now? Conducting the following exercise may help us to have a glimpse of living from spacious awareness in a state of acceptance instead of ego-based separation.

Observe your thoughts, noticing their ever-evolving forms, morphing from one train of thought into another; one moment you’re thinking about the electric bill, the next the state of the economy, and then what’s for dinner. (Not entirely unrelated subject matter, if you think about it.) Even if your thoughts appear to you as more profound than money and food, in the form of philosophical or religious concerns, for example, they still conform to the same basic patterns in your mind, flowing from one subject to the next. Often, as is human nature, these thoughts, whether mundane or metaphysical, are of a negative character. The world often appears very negative to us, doesn’t it? Now, turn your attention away from your thoughts to the world as it presents itself right now. Is it all that bad? (Obviously, if you’ve got a screaming baby or ranting relative near you at present, this part of the exercise will probably fall short!) Look at your surroundings – aren’t they ‘just-so,’ the way they are, and isn’t this intrinsically okay? Isn’t it your mind that decides things aren’t okay, based on your presumptions about the kind of world you want to live in? And, having realized this, even when the baby is screaming or a ranting relative nearby, that’s okay, too! If we can live in this wisdom, we truly are the Blest.

· Safety (Khema) For all beings true safety is very difficult to find; nay, it is impossible. As created beings, with these vulnerable bodies and minds, subject to all kinds of sickness, we cannot find respite from becoming ill at some point or another in our lives. As infants and children we are particularly susceptible to illnesses, as we are when we reach old age, a condition that has its own painful side effects. The body deteriorates, along with the mind, as time takes its toll on our persons. And, what’s the end of all this suffering? Why, it’s death: how comforting! Of course, we are not guaranteed to reach old age before we die, as we may contract a terminal disease, or be the victim of a fatal accident or attack. As individual, separate beings we cannot find a haven to protect us from life’s dangers. Moreover, even if we manage to avoid these three messengers of life’s intrinsic unsatisfactory nature for a long time, there are less dramatic ways that we suffer, as when we have a broken heart, or our loved one’s die, or when our desires are not satiated. Safety from these types of suffering is even harder to locate than the three messengers above. And, even if we don’t consciously feel endangered all the time, subconsciously we are well aware of our vulnerability, and this awareness affects every moment of our lives, tingeing it with unhappiness. Can we ever feel truly safe, then?

Despite the negative hypothesis described above – which is the first Noble Truth of the Buddha, by the way, that life is unsatisfactory – real safety is available to us. There is just one cost, however – that we surrender our sense of being a separate ego-self, and recognize the emptiness that lies at the heart of our being. This may sound awful at first, which is that we must give up our selfhood to be safe from life’s dangers, but this isn’t what Buddhism encourages us to do, in fact. It isn’t that we should commit some kind of suicide, but that we realize that we never existed in the limited and limiting way that we presumed we did. As an abstract idea, the giving up of the delusion of being an ego may well sound horrific, but as an experience it is anything but. It is the true Safety from suffering once and for all, because there’s no individual to suffer, and Emptiness cannot suffer. This Void isn’t some nihilistic nightmare, however, for it is full of the universe, and what’s more, it is aware of the fact. In this awareness is the sense of genuine Safety; that is to say, the absolute absence of any feeling of vulnerability, consciously or unconsciously. It is the Third Noble Truth of the Buddha, freedom from suffering.

· The Wonderful (Acchariya) “And I think to myself what a wonderful world.” There are many things in life that we might consider to be wonderful, several mentioned in the song just quoted, ‘What a Wonderful World, made famous by Louis Armstrong: Trees of green, red roses, blue skies, white clouds, rainbows and people’s faces, not to mention, “babies crying,” all of which refer to the joys of nature. And there are myriad marvels to be found in the natural world, all of which may inspire in their viewer a sense of wonder or delight. Conversely, there are just as many horrors to be seen in nature, of which Louis Armstrong remained understandably silent. Plagues, violence, earthquakes, droughts, tsunamis, and high infant mortality rates to mention just a few. If Louis had sung, “Babies dying” instead of the actual lyrics of the song, just imagine the macabre effect on his audience! In truth, then, the natural world which Mr. Armstrong presented as being so wonderful was equally as horrible, and therefore wasn’t that wonderful at all. But is the re another aspect of life that we might consider wonderful?

Perhaps the Wonderful might refer to the amazing achievements of humanity rather than to nature. We humans have done countless incredible things: populated the world, built massive cities, sailed the oceans, written beautiful poetry, created the Internet, and walked on the moon. These are all admiral accomplishments, and by no means rare in the history of humankind. Moreover, great displays of compassion and self-sacrifice are abundant both in historical records of the great and mighty, and in newspaper reports of otherwise ordinary folk. And, yet, again, the is another side to this story: people have also built and used the most horrific weaponry, tortured animals and humans in the most awful ways, raped, plundered and pillaged in the name of nationalism, religion, and plain old greed. We have created nuclear bombs that can apparently wipe out all life on earth in a matter of minutes. How truly ingenious! It seems that, as with nature, we humans are as terrible as we are wonderful, and that therefore we are not worthy of the title the Wonderful. So, is the Wonderful a chimera, a mirage fluttering in our imaginations and nowhere else?

To find the Wonderful, we need a radical alteration to our usual observational skills, however well developed we may consider them to be. Put simply, we must reverse our attention to see the Wonderful, right where it has always been – in the same place that we are looking out of. The Wonderful, despite Louis Armstrong’s best efforts, is not ‘out there’ but ‘in here.’ Or, at the risk of getting completely entangled in words, the Wonderful is both here and there, unified in a single Vision that incorporates the entire universe whilst at the same time completely transcending it. And, if this sounds just too amazing to be true, then ponder for a moment that this is probably why the Buddha dubbed enlightenment the Wonderful in the first place. But, enough of words, for the proof is in the eating…literally.

Please conduct the following exercise with a piece of food, maybe a fruit, a chocolate bar, or some other foodstuff that comes to hand (or mouth). To increase the mind’s focus on this exercise, closing the eyes is a good idea. Once this is done, place your chosen morsel into your mouth and chomp away. Feel the texture of it, and savour its taste, as well as its consistency. Take several more bites, being mindful each time of every second of chewing, tasting, and swallowing. Now, take another bite (if you’ve any left!) and turn your attention to that which is aware of the eating. Does this have texture, taste, or consistency, or any other tangible qualities for that matter? Is it not the case that awareness is pure capacity for the act of eating to take place in, a long with every other act of word, speech, or deed? And yet, there’s no gap between subject and object; no separate existence. The two are in fact one experience, of which we may adapt a famous Buddhist verse and say, “There is the eating, but no one doing it.” Here is experience without the interference of the sense self, and it is the Wonderful, for in it there is amazement at the perfection of this present moment, and no downside whatsoever. Bon appétit!

So, the Wonderful is nowhere but here. It is not in the amazing achievements of humanity, nor in the incredible richness of nature, for these are ephemeral and unreliable sources of wonder. True wonder is experiencing the unity of this moment, minus the interfering sense of self. It is in this very knowing of the-way-things-are (the Dharma) that we are truly blest, and can see thoughts for what they are, including any thoughts of self. This is genuine safety that never fails us, for there’s no one to experience failure! It’s encouraging too that any activity we are engaged in has the capability of becoming the subject for wise reflection. Eating, sleeping, shi- you get the idea! Let’s endeavour to be mindful of the present moment as it is right now, and then the Wonderful, Blest, Safety that is our underlying nature will continually flavour our awareness.

Buddha & Eckhart: On Purity & Emptiness

2011-01-19T00:01:00.002+07:00

"I never ask God to give himself to me; I beg him to purify, to empty me. If I am empty, God of his very nature is obliged to give himself to fill me." (All Eckhartian quotations taken from 'Meister Eckhart, From Whom God Hid Nothing,' edited by David O'Neal, pp.8 & 9)

When reading Eckhart from a Buddhist point of view, it's always worth reviewing what the word 'God' signifies in his writings. It does not mean some bearded anthropomorphic deity sat on a throne, nor does it indicate a kind of spiritual essence in any kind of airy-fairy way. For Eckhart, 'God' represents the personification of those positive qualities that are often merged in the word 'love.' (Echoing St. John's statement, "God is love.") The flip-side of love is wisdom, and God can indicate this, as well. Moreover, the word 'God,' at least in Eckhart's eyes, personifies the absolute, or what the Buddha called the unconditioned, nirvana. This indefinable emptiness is, in many forms of Buddhism, also encapsulated in the form of a Buddha such as Amitabha. So, when we read the word 'God' in the passages below, it is profitable to beer in mind the above, otherwise we may well get caught up in doctrinal dichotomies which neither the Buddha nor Eckhart wished us to.

Now, with the above caution in mind, on to our reflections on Meister Eckhart's teachings; he writes that he never requests of God to give himself to Eckhart, but Eckhart be emptied of himself, so that God may then 'fill' him. This means being filled with those qualities that the word 'God' signifies: love and wisdom. Eckhart states that prior to being 'filled' with God, he must be purified, or, as he then puts it, empty. According to Eckhart, if we are emptied of our own (egoistic) selves, we are filled with God; that is to say, love and wisdom fill this void, and are thereafter its expression into the world. We become selfless, wise, and loving. How wonderful! The Buddha also taught that to be emptied of any sense of self then results in both love and wisdom to arise. Usually Buddhists don't say the love, for this is associated with sexual or romantic forms of the emotion, but it can also signify compassion and kindness, both of which are lauded by the Buddha and his followers.

"How to be pure? By steadfast longing for the one good, God. How to acquire this longing? By self-denial and dislike of creatures. Self-knowledge is the way, for creatures are all nothing, they come to nothing with lamentation and bitterness. God being in himself pure good can dwell nowhere except in the pure soul. He overflows into her. Whole, he flows into her."

Buddhaghosa, the famous fifth-century commentator on the Buddha's teachings, wrote a book called the Visuddhimagga, which in English is normally rendered 'The Path of Purification.' This monumental work (and I have a translation of it, it is monumental in several definitions of that word, believe me!) describes the step-by-step progression towards enlightenment, which is derived from the teachings of the Buddha. Such detailed methodology is not found in Eckhart's work, for he came from a very different culture and tradition than Buddhaghosa, but there are parallels to be noted nonetheless. Eckhart believes that by having an intense longing for God - the personification of love, wisdom, and ultimately, 'nirvana' - we can be emptied of self and then be filled with God. This purification is done through self-denial and 'dislike of creatures.' Self-denial is a certainly found in Buddhism; it is not the free-for-all libertinism that some westerners have taken it to be in recent decades. There is a strong thread of morality and self-denial in the Buddhist Path of Purification, summed up in the five basic precepts of not killing, not stealing, not committing sexual misconduct, not lying, and not taking intoxicants. Buddhaghosa explores Buddhist morality in the Visuddhimagga, making it clear that this is the foundation of the Buddhist Way.

As to the 'dislike of creatures,' it is clear from this passage and others that Eckhart was not denying the Christian's duties towards his fellow humans (remember 'love thy neighbor'), but was specifically referring to the spiritual journey towards God. In this meditative state, the mind should not be focused on people and animals - or angels and demons, for that matter), but on God alone. This single-mindedness is capable of leading towards that emptiness that is then filled with God, probably akin to the mystical traditions found not only within the Christian tradition, but also in Sufism, Hinduism, Pure Land Buddhism, and Kabbalistic Judaism, to name but a few more. Indeed, in the two Sukhavativyuha Sutras, the Buddha instructs his disciples on how to be reborn in Amitabha Buddha's Pure land through devoted recitation of the latter Buddha's name. God, Allah, Jahweh, Krishna, Amitabha, etc. will flow into the empty mind of the devotee, and, according to Eckhart, it is all of the 'divine' that does so, not a part. This is the bliss of salvation/enlightenment.

"What does emptiness mean? It means attuning from creatures: the heart uplifted to the perfect good so that creatures are no comfort, nor is there any need of them except in that God, the perfect good, is to be grasped in them. The clear eye tolerates the mote no more than does the pure soul anything that clouds, that comes between. Creatures, as she enjoys them, are all pure, for she enjoys creatures in God and God in creatures. She is so clear she sees through herself; nor is God far to seek: she finds him in herself when in her natural purity she flows into the supernatural pure Godhead, where she is in God and God in her, and what she does, she does in God and God does it in her."

In this segment of text, Eckhart expands on what being empty means. He reiterates that no lasting comfort is to found in creatures, but adds that they do have value in that they too can be seen to be pure and full of God - unfortunately, most of them don't know it themselves, yet! This is akin to the Buddha saying that we do not gain anything through Buddhist practice, but rather empty ourselves of the fetters that prevent us from seeing our innate enlightened state: we are already enlightened, but we have yet to wake up to the fact! The purified soul 'sees through herself' and finds God within herself. Again, this is like the Buddhist that sees through his ego, discovers emptiness at his heart, and then realizes enlightenment/Buddha-nature. In this last part of the text, Eckhart uses a word that we may not be so familiar with: Godhead. This aspect of God is without form or any particulars whatsoever. It is not the personification of love, wisdom, or anything else, however laudable. It is the emptiness that lies beyond every sense of individuality, including God's. In the experience of Godhead - we may easily use the word Buddhahead also - 'she is in God and God in her.' And whatever is done by her is done by God and vice versa. This is the unity of true salvation/enlightenment, and reveals the essential union between the teachings of the Buddha and Eckhart.

Reflections on Bankei's 'Song of the Mind' Verses 29-32

2011-01-12T00:01:00.011+07:00

“When your study

Of Buddhism is through

You find

You haven't anything new

Enlightenment and delusion too

Never existed from the start

They're ideas that you picked up

Things your parents never taught

If you think the mind

That attains enlightenment

Is "mine"

Your thoughts will wrestle, one with the other

These days I'm not bothering about

Getting enlightenment all the time

And the result is that

I wake up in the morning feeling fine”

The Zen Master Bankei Yotaku (1622 – 1693) asserts that after we have studied Buddhism and come to its final objective, Nirvana, we find that it was here all the while; we just didn’t see it before. Also, what we think to be Nirvana is not Nirvana; the thinking mind can never conceptualize the Infinite. Moreover, in the enlightened mind there is no sense of “me” or “mine.” Everything is just as it is, just so. Thoughts arise, but they are undefiled by the sense of self, and all the ideas and biases that go along with experiencing these thoughts as a self are absent. Bankei points to a state of non-duality in which there is no suffering, simply being. Let’s look a little closer at each of the verses in this section of his poem ‘Song of the Mind.’

“When your study

Of Buddhism is through

You find

You haven't anything new”

We can spend lifetimes studying the Buddhist scriptures, whether it’s the Pali Canon, the Chinese Canon, the Tibetan Canon, or any combination of them. The teachings and practices that they contain are impossible for any one person to master, even over a thousand lifetimes. But they are not here to be memorized like maths formulae, but as inspiration in our endeavours to discover the cause of suffering and end it. From the viewpoint of spiritual awakening, what is the point of studying countless sutras and commentaries if they just end up as information in the brain to be regurgitated like some kind of human encyclopaedia?

Bankei suggests that all through our Buddhist studies and practices we won’t that we have anything new, which sounds preposterous. But this is from the conventional, worldly point of view, when we think that there must be a product born of our efforts, and in this case knowledge about Buddhist teachings would surely be accumulated, at the very least. Bankei is not denying this, nor is he belittling our efforts in studying the Buddha Dharma, but what he is directing us to realize is that all these efforts, if they culminate in enlightenment, will reveal the truth that’s been staring us in the face since before we were born. To discover and live from this Awakening requires support and training, however, for if we discover it without such foundations, our tower of enlightenment will surely collapse back into the dirt of ego.

“Enlightenment and delusion too

Never existed from the start

They're ideas that you picked up

Things your parents never taught”

Here, Bankei is really getting at the heart of the matter, and we must be quick to keep up with him. He says that, “Enlightenment and delusion too never existed from the start.” What?! Surely the whole point of Buddhist practice is to transcend delusion and realize enlightenment? And, yet, Master Bankei insists that neither delusion nor enlightenment exist or have ever done so. What on earth is he doing here? Well, again, taken from the conventional stance of the worldly mind, it would seem that Bankei is contradicting basic teachings of the Buddha found in all the major schools of Buddhism, including his own RInzai Zen Sect.

According to the Buddha, delusion goes hand-in-hand with suffering, and if we completely let go of the former, we let go of the latter as well. This is the essence of his teaching as presented to us suffering and deluded people. But, Bankei is not talking from the position of an unenlightened person who thinks about enlightenment rather than experiences it. From the viewpoint of the awakened mind, both enlightenment and delusion are indeed purely ideas that bear little resemblance to reality. As stated above, such teachings have a crucial role to play in leading us to the ending of suffering, but they are not Nirvana itself, merely concepts designed to help us awaken for ourselves.

“If you think the mind

That attains enlightenment

Is "mine"

Your thoughts will wrestle, one with the other”

There is mind, Mind, and no-mind. The mind that has the notion of “mine” attached to it is not enlightened, for it has not let go of the delusion of “me” and “mine.” If there is no one here, as the Buddha teaches us, then neither can there be the sense of possessing anything, whether it is physical or mental. These thoughts are thoughts, not “my” thoughts, and these words appearing on this page as they are typed are not “my” words, but simply words. The same applies to the body, of course.

Mind, with a capital ‘M’ is often used in English to distinguish between the unenlightened mind and the enlightened Mind. The enlightened Mind is not identified with a particular person, but is the universe living through a particular form. That is to say, the universe or totality of existence is expressing itself every time a poet writes, an artist paints, or a spouse nags their partner! The difference with an enlightened being is that they live in sync with the universe, not in competition with it. Put simply, mind is separate to the world whereas Mind is the world.

The trouble with words and concepts is that we human beings can be attached to them, and, we are liable to anthropomorphise them after they’ve been around a while. So, we conceive of the Infinite as having a body or a personality of its own, separate to other bodies or personalities. Or, it is seen as some kind of Divine Being, at least, which by definition is different to other beings. This is where no-mind comes in. No-mind is a way of describing the Infinite that makes it nigh on impossible to personalize it, and thereby help us to avoid attaching concepts to that which is beyond concepts, and cannot be experienced whilst we hold on to such ideas.

“These days I'm not bothering about

Getting enlightenment all the time

And the result is that

I wake up in the morning feeling fine”

Since Bankei was an enlightened Zen master, he no longer hankered after enlightenment; he was at rest. Whatever happened, he just took it in his stride knowing that this is the way it is: things happen. Things we consider good happen, things we consider bad happen, and things we consider neither good nor bad happen. Whilst we attach to the sense of being a separate being, we will suffer when things we want to happen don’t, and we will also suffer when things we don’t want to occur do. When enlightened, we will, as the Master states, “Wake up in the morning feeling fine.” This doesn’t sound so dramatic, does it? But, this is the sign of a life integrated into the enlightened state – and not the other way around, which is impossible. If we are enlightened like Bankei, life is just so, and this is fine. We can experience this “just so” quality right now, if we open to it. Why not try the following exercise and see what the outcome is. You might find that it’s fine.

Turn n the TV, radio, or Internet news, and calmly listen to it, taking in the ‘good’ news stories as well as the ‘bad.’ As you listen to the newscaster or reporter describing terrible events in the world, watch your reactions to them. Focus your attention on the negative responses that occur in your mind to these awful happenings. After the news programme has ended, turn off the TV, radio, or close the Internet site, and close your eyes. Think back to the ‘bad’ stuff that you’ve just heard, and take note of your feelings about each news item. Now, turn your attention to what all these thoughts and feelings are arising in. What does that look like or feel like? Do the same with your memories of what you see or heard during the news programme. What is it here that is aware of all these mental objects – is it a being, separate to them, is it an awareness in which they arise, or is it something else?

It’s the mind with a small ‘m’ that thinks that it is the self that thinks thoughts, says words, and does things. In truth, it is the Mind with a big ‘M’ that does it all. And yet, beyond even this sense of ‘the Big M’ is no-mind at all, in which things just happen. From the viewpoint of enlightenment, all the knowledge that we possess of the Buddha Dharma is useless if we cling to it as expressions of self-achievement. In truth, it is the universe that thinks through these body-minds that we so readily mistake as belonging to a self – a self that never, ever existed! All this occurs in the No-thing that is not only beyond things, but also beyond nothing! (Try to work that one out, and the only way you will is to use it as a koan.) Roll up all your desires into the desire for awakening, and then throw it away! Then, you will be left with no desires and no suffering; hankering after nothing whatsoever, you will be awake to the essence of our being, which was here all along.

On Awakening Part 3

2011-01-04T00:01:00.003+07:00

We continue our reflections on the Buddha’s above description of awakening, or enlightenment, by examining the Undiversified, Peace, and the Deathless. The heart of these reflections are not the words themselves, nor the exercises imbedded in the text, but the experience to which they point. That the Buddha used so many different and differing words to describe awakening – he used many more than in the above paragraph – reveals the diverse expressions of it, and the many Dharma Gates to ‘enter’ it. Hopefully, we may stroll through such a Gate together and bask on the other Shore, in the Everlasting contentment of enlightenment.

· The Undiversified (Nippapanca) To be diversified is to have many separate parts or divisions. An example of this is the human body which is made up of many, many different parts, each one distinct from the others. An arm is different to a leg; moreover, the right arm isn’t the same as the left one. Concerning the mind, one emotion is not the same as another, so that happiness isn’t identical with sadness. Nor is the thought arising now the same as the one that preceded it nor the one to follow. Humans are made up of highly diversified elements, and this is reflected on the social level, also. I am not the same as you, and even so-called identical twins are not exactly the same. Humanity is a diverse collection of nationalities, ethnicities, cultures, religions, and societies which are extremely diverse. China is very different to America, Russia is in no way the same as Brazil, and Fiji has little in common with Swaziland. The human species is extremely different to even its closest relatives in the natural world: are you the same as a chimpanzee, orangutan, or gorilla? (Be honest now!) Indeed, the Earth is unique in the Solar System, differing from the Moon, Mars, Jupiter, or any other celestial body. The universe is a highly diversified place.

Now, is there anything that can be considered undiversified? It might surprise you to read that my answer is an emphatic, “No!” How can this be, when the focus of these words is the Undiversified? Well, the key is in the word ‘anything,’ for there is no thing that is not diversified in itself or as a part of the exceedingly diverse cosmos. If we wish to know the Undiversified, we need to turn our attention away from the world of things and the processes that they are part of, and see that which is neither a thing nor part of a process. But, where can we look for such a non-thing? Out amongst the stars? In a hidden part of the natural world, say in a tropical forest? Or maybe it’s in the depths of the human mind, buried in the subconscious, somewhere between childhood traumas and adolescent angst? Again, the answer is an unequivocal, “No!” The Undiversified is not a thing and is therefore not found among things, but stands aside from them, despite being in their very midst. Moreover, it is to be discovered right where you are now, and nowhere else.

As written above, the Undiversified is not part of your body; it is not to be found in your bones or your cells. Neither will it be revealed in a session with a psychoanalyst, pulling your psyche inside out. And yet, as stated earlier, it is amongst these things. To see it, simply turn your attention around gaze back into your being – what do you see? Do you actually see eyes or a brain or a head to keep them in? Now, it’s not being suggested here that these things don’t exist, for they surely do – you just have to touch them to prove that for yourself (although trying to touch your brain could prove somewhat awkward!). But what lies at their heart; ‘it’ can be seen, or at least experienced by looking backwards with a childlike innocence that accepts what is seen and not what we think we should see. Look again, and what do you really notice where you experience your awareness. Is it a thing or a limitless No-thing that is nonetheless without separation (and therefore separate existence) from the world that you perceive?

· Peace (Santi) “Give Peace a Chance,” sang John Lennon all those years ago, and the world is in every bit of a need to follow his advice today as it was then. But, as many people have known long before that bespectacled Beatle tried to, “Imagine all the people living life in peace,” real peace comes from within. That’s what the story of the Buddha’s enlightenment under the Bodhi Tree tells us, and it’s what such modern pacific luminaries such as Thich Nhat Hanh and the Dalai Lama have personified. But what is this peace that can change the world, and how do we find it, and maintain it? Well, following in the footsteps of the Buddha, Thich Nhat Hanh, and the Dalai Lama, let’s indentify this peace by looking within.

Close your eyes, and take some deep breaths for a few moments, calming down the body - and hopefully the mind! Now, listen to the sounds arising in your environment at his time; here, I can discern music, fire works (there is a Thai festival going on outside), and the hum of an aging air conditioner. Turning attention away from these various noises to that in which they are heard, focuses awareness on the silence which is the capacity for them to arise in. Gazing into this silence, it is found to be perfectly still and peaceful, despite the sounds that are heard in it. It is Peace itself, undisturbed by the noises going on; moreover, it is also the Peace that is space for all mental stuff to exist in, no matter how ‘noisy’ that gets, as well. It is the Peace that contains all that we experience, whether sound, thoughts, sights, or any other of the sensations that go to make up our world. But, having found this Peace and seen what it is, how do we maintain awareness of it in our busy day-to-day lives? The clue is in that very word ‘awareness;’ if we maintain this in-gazing to the Peace that lies at our heart – in fact, it is our heart – then we can not only maintain connected to this peacefulness, but share it with others. Meditation can help us to do this, and the Buddha himself encouraged his followers to meditate on Peace. Indeed, what are zazen practitioners doing but meditating on Peace when they sit on their cushions and stare at a wall?

· The Deathless (Amata) The hope of immortality has occupied the thoughts of most of us at some time or another, and the great minds of philosophers and theologians have staked their reputations on their views regarding this deep-set desire. The Buddha often talked of the Deathless, which is another way of describing immortality; it is also another way of representing Awakening, emphasizing its eternal aspect. In English, we might translate the original word Amata as ‘no dying.’ Doing this, we recognize the dynamic nature of enlightenment, which is to be known in this very life, rather than left as a thought or set of thoughts that we call beliefs. If we can realize this present continuous nature of the Deathless, we have outdone those famous philosophers and theologians, who rarely transcended their intricate and quite brilliant thought-constructions. But, then again, who said that Awakening had anything particular to do with ideas or beliefs?

So, now we come to the crux of the matter: how do we realize this ongoing Deathless? As stated above, it isn’t through thinking that we will awaken to our true nature, no matter how profound our thoughts may be. Thoughts are finite and impermanent; they do not lead to the Infinite and Permanent, which are synonyms for the Deathless. They are not without their uses, however, and can even assist us in discovering our Buddha Nature. The following exercise may serve to illustrate this in a most direct manner. Close your eyes so to eliminate visual distractions, and turn your attention to the thoughts racing around your mind. Whatever they are, whether they’re focused on work issues, family problems, financial concerns, deep philosophical riddles, or where you left your keys, they all arise in this spacious awareness that itself has no limited or limiting characteristics. Whatever particular thought occupies this space, it simply is open to it, without having preferences for this or that idea. Not being the product of the thought process, it is unconditioned by it. (It’s worth noting here that there’s a difference between consciousness, which the Buddha taught is dependent upon an object to be conscious of, and awareness that exists whether consciousness and its object(s) are present or not.)

Another way to become alive to the Deathless, and more dramatic - and therefore more efficacious, perhaps - than the above exercise, is to observe those things that are subject to death, and then contrast their features with that which is the Deathless. We already looked at ephemeral thoughts, so the nest subject for our reflection is the body, which even the philosopher and theologian might agree is mortal. Sit, or lie down, and look at your body, observing its features and the forms they take. They have shape, colour, size, and opacity. These are marks of impermanence, and every part of our body has them. By contrast, that which is aware of the body is without shape, colour, size, or opacity: It has the marks of the Deathless. And, just in case you haven’t quite got ‘it’ yet, all you need to do is look back at what you are looking out of. What do you see there - things with shape, colour, size, and opacity, or their opposite? You are the Deathless!

This is a tremendous discovery that what we truly are cannot die. And, as the Deathless is also the Undiversified, it is without separate, suffering parts, never at odds with itself, nor with the world with which it is one. This is true peace, then, of which John Lennon would have been most satisfied, and which he may well have experienced, for he was both an enquiring and truth-seeking man. And, this is an important point to end on: we do not need to be some great holy man or saint to see our true, peaceful nature. What we do need is the courage to look without preconceived ideas of enlightenment, and to work with what we see. This is indeed the path to the Deathless, as the Buddha once called it.

A New Year's Eve Message

2010-12-31T00:01:00.053+07:00

Everything is empty!

Here we are on the brink of another year. We can use this opportunity to reflect over the past year, or to ponder the future. This can be beneficial, as long as our reflection does not turn into regret or resentment, and as long as our pondering does not turn to fear or worry. Whatever we do on the eve of 2011, we can do it with awareness. If we act from a state of knowing rather than nescience, we have a greater chance of doing it right, and even developing some wisdom.

Wisdom is needed in this world. Look at the sky ripped open, the still-hungry millions, the near-extinct animals, the war-mongering, and the general fear. On New Year's Eve, many of us will get out of our heads on alcohol and/or drugs, shutting out the suffering world, and burying our own miseries beneath copious amounts of intoxicants. This, however, will simply leave us with a hangover on New Year's Day, and no deeper understanding of the world, including those we claim to love.

Love is needed in this world. Not love based on lust, nor love that demands that people act and say the things we want to see and hear, but real love that allows people to be themselves, whether straight, gay, hip or nerdy, gregarious or solitary, or whatever. In this kind of love, we are open to the suffering both in ourselves and others, and therefore more able to respond appropriately, helping where needed. How can we approach the world with this kind of love?

Love and wisdom are two sides of the same coin. According to Buddhist tradition, they are the two wings of enlightenment. If we can see the world with wisdom, we will also develop love for it, for we will see that it is us, and therefore love it as we love ourselves. If we can feel the world with love, we will also develop wisdom towards it, for we will feel its suffering, and with this wisdom know the way out of suffering. We are enlightened together, as one.

So, after the hangover's worn off, or the incense sticks have burnt out, we might take the time to look back at who's living this life, and see the emptiness at the heart of all this oh-so precious existence. Seeing this emptiness, we have the means to develop the wisdom mentioned above, for when everything - including the thing called 'me' - is seen to be empty, we see it in a completely different way. And love is no longer reserved for this self and those close to it, but spread out to all we meet.

Anyhow, wishing you all the love and wisdom in the world for the New Year. Have fun tonight, and tomorrow? Take a few moments to see where all this stuff ('the world') comes from. It's a real eye opener!

Dukkha v.3

2010-12-29T00:01:00.002+07:00

This pain pervades the whole world,
Saturated as it is in misery.
Images of suffering children merge
Into the spasms of these nerves.

A screaming babe, umbilical intact,
Aging parents adrift in the past,
Lovers sickened by their embrace,
Blackened mourners in the rain.

Happiness is a thin veneer,
Beneath which lies the truth.
This is the inheritance of us all,
Birth, aging, sickness and death:
Dukkha.

In each moment of misery, however,
The lion's roar can be heard aloud;
Calling us all to awareness of
The promise of a cool breeze.

Buddha & Eckhart: On Detachment

2010-12-25T00:01:00.006+07:00

"Now all thoughtful people should take note. No one is more cheerful than the one that lives in the greatest detachment." (O'Neal p.123)

The teachings of Meister Eckhart (c.1260-1327) have much in common with those of the Buddha. One subject upon which they have the greatest of convergence is that of detachment. As Eckhart says above, the detached person is the happiest, for to live without attachment is to live in true freedom. This is the heart of the Buddha's teaching, too, of course. There is a lot more to the teachings of the Buddha and Eckhart than that complete detachment that is enlightenment or salvation, of course, and in this brief essay the intent is only to touch upon such important aspects their teachings. It is hoped that the reader will find subjects in this essay for further exploration beyond these humble words, not only in the intellectual realm but also in the field of actual practice, whether grounded in Buddhism or Christianity. The focus of our study here is Meister Eckhart's own essay 'On Detachment.' It is found in David O'Neal's wonderful book 'Meister Eckhart, From Whom God Hid Nothing,' published by New Seeds Books. The page numbers after each quote refer to that book.

"The teachers praise love most highly, as Saint Paul does when he says: "In whatever tribulation I may find myself, if I have not love, I am nothing." But I praise detachment more than all love. First, because the best thing about love is that it forces me to love God. On the other hand, detachment forces God to love me. Now it is much nobler that I should force God to myself than I should force myself to God. And the reason is that God can join himself to me more closely and unite himself with me better than I could unite myself with God." (O'Neal pp.107/8)

Meister Eckhart never fails to surprise (or shock) us when we approach his words expecting typical Christian thinking. He was a complete original. Sure, he had influences such as the Neoplatonic philosopher Plotinus and Saint Augustine, but his teaching is nevertheless very much his own. The quotation above from his short booklet 'On Detachment' is a perfect example of Eckhart's originality; from the outset, he almost seems to be deliberately contradicting traditional Christian thinking when he contradicts Saint Paul and states that detachment is more important than love. What of "Faith, hope, ad love; the greatest of which is love"? (Another Pauline quote.) Meister Eckhart does this for a purpose, of course, and that purpose is not merely to shock or gain our attention, it is to highlight the importance of a detached mind in the contemplative life. In this, he is paralleling the Buddha who also extolled the centrality of detachment, exemplified by equanimity (upekkha), found in his discourses as one of the four 'sublime states' alongside goodwill, compassion, and empathy.

Equanimity is not to be understood as a kind of cool indifference to the suffering of others, but instead a calmness that sees things as they truly are, interconnected and conditioned phenomena. There is another side to detachment in the spiritual life, however, and it is this one that Eckhart refers to. This is a quality of mind that is not distracted by outer stimuli when it is engaged in absorptive meditation. This is known as samadhi in Buddhism, and is one of the three aspects of the Noble Eightfold Path that leads to enlightenment. From the viewpoint of the Buddha, Eckhart's teaching on detachment can be understood in relation to the Buddhist understanding of samadhi. By 'God,' Buddhists can understand him to mean Nirvana, especially when we read him characterizing God as a 'not-God,' or as a kind of transcendent nothingness, which he does elsewhere. When used as the focus for devotional practice, as with Christian mystics and Pure land Buddhists, for example, 'God' can also be this 'nothingness' personified, so to give something tangible to give one's love to. In this context, Eckhart's statement about loving God and being detached toward God make more sense to Buddhist sensibilities.

Eckhart shows great insight when he promotes detachment above love, revealing in Christian language what any experienced Buddhist meditator might know but cloaked in a different conceptual framework. We can see this by replacing some key terms in the above Eckhartian quote with Buddhist ones: Emptiness (Shunyata) can join itself to me more closely and unite itself with me better than I could unite myself with Emptiness. And, this is because Emptiness (God) can 'love' the practitioner or devotee more purely than the other way around, for there is nothing in Emptiness to remain separate to the latter, whereas when we try to love the object of our devotion, whether it be Jesus, Amitabha, or whoever, a trace of ego can remain, as a sense of being humble me worshipping Almighty God or Buddha. Eckhart has more to teach us about God/Emptiness and detachment in the following paragraph:

"Secondly I praise detachment more than love because love forces me to suffer all things for the sake of God, but detachment makes me receptive of nothing but God. Now it is far nobler to be receptive of nothing but God than to suffer all things for the sake of God. For in suffering man pays some attention to the creatures through which he has the suffering. On the other hand, detachment is completely free from all creatures." (O'Neal p.108)

What Eckhart seems to saying here is that it is better to merge into Emptiness first, rather than to try to love - or be compassionate towards - all creatures first. Again, he reveals his wisdom when he states that "in suffering man pays some attention to the creatures through which he has the suffering." Therefore, whatever love comes out of this creature-centered awareness will be tainted with self, whereas if we are receptive of nothing but God (i.e. Emptiness), out of this state of purity will pour true compassion for suffering creatures. Also, in the process of deepening one's knowing of God (or samadhi) all senses of other creatures and of being a creature should be left behind if the higher meditative states are to be realized. So, with Eckhart's help, we are recognizing that both the inward-looking eye and the outward looking eye benefit from putting God/Emptiness first, so that real love will follow, naturally flowing out of a freed heart, rather than forced out of a creature-focused mind.

We can see this now simply by looking backwards instead of forwards and seeing the Emptiness at our heart here and now. (Don't take my word for it, look back at where you are looking from and be completely honest about what you see.) If we recognize the Emptiness as our true being, rather than these limited and self-limiting egos, then we can see what happens when we meet people from this persecutive rather than the usual egotistic one. If 'I' die into Empty Knowing and am filled with you instead my own sense-of-self, then 'I' am really able to love you, for there is no me to get in the way. Try this in your own life, every time you meet someone, especially if there's been ill-feeling between you. What happens to that ill-feeling when you meet someone from your Emptiness rather than your ego?

"The masters also praise humility above many other virtues. But I praise detachment above all humility, and for this reason: humility can exist without detachment, but perfect detachment cannot subsist without perfect humility. For perfect humility tends to its own destruction; but detachment borders so closely on nothing that between perfect detachment and nothingness there can be nothing. Therefore perfect detachment cannot exist without humility. Now two virtues are always better than one." (O'Neal p.108/9)

Clearly, if we accept humility and detachment as qualities to be developed as part of a spiritual life, then to have both is superior to possessing only one, and this argument of Eckhart is pretty clear. But, does the Buddha encourage humility in his followers? Absolutely! Humility is the absence of such negative mental traits as conceit, arrogance, and vanity, which are all obstacles to awakening. Furthermore, humility is the non-association with the ego and all its self-delusions. In addition, the transcendence of the illusion of self is an integral part of enlightenment, with not only self-view (sakkaya-ditthi) let go of in the earlier stages of liberation, but also the much more evasive conceit (mana) relinquished at the final release from suffering. Combined with detachment, humility is a powerful mental condition needed if we wish to understand and let go of the attachment to both the notion and the feeing of being a separate, suffering self.

"I also praise detachment more than all mercy, for mercy simply means that man, going out of himself, turns to the failings of his fellow men and for this reason his heart is troubled. Detachment is free from this; it remains in itself and does not allow itself to be troubled by anything, because, as long as anything can trouble man, it is not well with him. In short, if I consider all virtues, I find none is so completely without defects and so applicable to God as is detachment." (O'Neal p.111)

What Eckhart is saying here is not that we shouldn't bother with mercy or compassion (karuna) at all, for as stated above with regard to humility and detachment, he considered two virtues superior to one; so, to have even more virtues must surely be even more advantageous to both the person displaying them and their recipients. What Eckhart is saying, however, is that mercy without detachment can be very damaging; an example of this is the so-called 'compassion fatigue' felt by many sensitive souls who observe the suffering of others in daily news reports. We can become numb to the suffering described and shown in the media; this is because compassion is coming from the ego and is therefore fundamentally limited in its capacity to take on the world's misery. If established in detachment, compassion is coming from the spaciousness of unattached awareness and therefore isn't piling too much onto the sense of self that will otherwise collapse in on itself.

"It is right that you know that to be empty of all creatures is to be full of God, and to be full of all creatures is to be empty of God. You should also know that in this immovable detachment God has dwelt eternally and he still dwells in it. And you should know that when God created heaven and earth and all creatures, that affected his immovable detachment as little as if the creatures had never been created. Indeed, I will say more: all the prayers and all the good works which man can perform in the world have as little effect on God's detachment as if neither prayers nor good works had ever been carried out." (O'Neal p.113)

This is one of those statements by Meister Eckhart that can leave us dumbfounded at his apparent arrogance: he appears to reject the long-established Christian practices of petitionary prayers performed to gain some advantage for either those praying or others or both. He seems to be claiming that such prayers do not even reach God, let alone get answered by him! It's as if every email that we send never reaches its addressee - what a horrid state of affairs! In fact, if we refer back to how Christ taught his followers to pray (i.e. The Lord's Prayer), Eckhart's vision of prayer is actually more orthodox than the widely-enacted petitionary prayers. This kind of praying is actually an acceptance of what is as the will of God, rather than petitionary praying which wishes to change current conditions. Eckhart calls this "the prayer of detachment:"

"But now I ask: What is the prayer of the detached heart? I answer that detachment and purity cannot pray. For if anyone prays, he asks that something be given him, or asks that God may take something away from him. But the detached heart does not ask for anything at all, nor has it anything at all that it would like to be rid of. Therefore it is free of all prayer, and its prayer is nothing else than to be uniform with God. On this alone the prayer of detachment rests." (O'Neal p.120)

As to good works, which Eckhart denies reach God's attention either, Buddhism is full of them: making offerings of food, money, medicine, shelter, clothing etc. to monks and nuns; charity for the poor and ill; and every day acts of kindness that make other peoples' lives that little bit more bearable. Is Eckhart saying that these are nothing to God? Apparently. But, he is not rejecting them completely, for just as in Buddhist teaching, good works have good results for Christians, too. But, Eckhart is talking of the meditative life here, and he wishes to help us go beyond ego-based good acts as well as ego-based prayers: and it is in detachment that he believes we may do so. If we can establish ourselves in detachment, then our prayers and our good works come from the spaciousness of non-attachment. They will not only be of more advantage to our spiritual development, but will also benefit others more completely because they have not been diluted by our inherently (but not always obviously) self-centered egos.

The detached heart, according to Eckhart, has "nothing at all that it would be like to be rid of." This a pure state of mind, for sure. if we examine our everyday minds for just a few moments, we will become aware not only of the outer worldly conditions (and people) that we'd like to see the back of, but also many, many elements within our own minds that are equally undesirable. Eckhart does not talk of some holy battle between good and evil, or God and Satan, here, however. He sees "the prayer of detachment" as the means to let go of all defiling aspects of our psyches that will open us up "to be uniform with God." In the final quotation at the end of this essay, Eckhart actually states that ultimate detachment is God, so if we are "uniform" with God, this seems to indicate merging with God as God, with no hint of separation existing. This sounds uncannily like some descriptions of Nirvana as being beyond all opposites and any sense of a separate, suffering self. This is the goal of meditative practice, however, and to achieve this we will benefit from further guidance, which Eckhart readily gives us:

"Now you should know that that a religious man that loves God uses the powers of the soul in the outward man no further than what the five senses require as a matter of necessity. And the inward man does not heed the five senses, except insofar as he is their guide and leader." (O'Neal p.116/7)

Here, Eckhart is touching upon what the Buddha called the aggregates (khandha). The big difference is that the Buddha included the mind as one of the six senses, for if there were no mind, there would be no consciousness of the other five senses. This difference between the Buddha's teaching and Eckhart's may well be down to the religious traditions from which they came; sixth-century B.C. Indian religion was much more psychological in focus than medieval Christian theology. Despite this difference, Eckhart is still teaching us to behave in ways that the Buddha also previously promoted. They both taught that we should look after our bodies, indeed, to realize enlightenment, we need strong bodies that can support our meditation, as shown in the Buddha's own acceptance of sustenance from a young woman prior to achieving full awakening. Eckhart is clearly encouraging us to do the same, but no more. To indulge in the senses is a no-no for him, just as it was for the Buddha, who encouraged monks and nuns to lower their gaze when traveling around, so not to become too caught up in the world around them.

"[Hence,] if the heart is to find preparedness for the highest of all flights, it must aim at a pure nothing, and in this there is greatest possibility that can exist. For when the detached heart has the highest aim, it must be toward the Nothing, because in this there is the greatest receptivity." (O'Neal p.119)

The detached heart (or mind) is able to realize "the Nothing" that opens us up to enlightenment. This "pure nothing" is a clear awareness free of any attachments to worldly objects, whether physical or psychological in form. As written above, this detached state is what the Buddha described as samadhi, and is a profound meditative absorption that cancels out any attachment to or identification with the world. Eckhatr's language may seem somewhat vague, as well as poetical, and whilst the Buddha is credited with producing much verse, he also produced much well-organized prose. Some of this latter literary style of the Buddha features another important Buddhist teaching related closely to detachment which is often translated as 'seclusion' or even 'detachment,' and is known in the original Pali as viveka. In the commentaries to the Buddha's actual teachings on viveka, this important concept is divided into a threefold system:
    1.    kaya-viveka: bodily-detachment
    2.    citta-viveka: mental detachment
    3.    upadhi-viveka: detachment from the roots of suffering

Eckhart certainly promotes the first kind of detachment, the seclusion form the world in its most distracting forms. As to the second kind of viveka, it is clear that he also taught of detached states that were free of mental distractions, too. And, as for the roots of suffering, greed, hatred, and delusion, these three states no longer exist when we are in the deepest of samadhis or meditative prayer. True enough, these are temporary states, for as soon as we come out of them we are back in the world of suffering, but they are a glimpse of full enlightenment which is the complete and permanent transcendence of the three causes of suffering, which is the ultimate goal of Buddhism. And, from reading Eckhart, it can also be the goal of the Christian life, too. For, as is revealed in the final quotation below, Eckhart recognized God, which Buddhists call nirvana, to be the ultimate detachment of all:

"It purifies the soul, cleanses the conscience, inflames the heart, arouses the spirit, quickens desire, and makes God known. It separates off the creatures and unites the soul with God. Now take note, all thoughtful creatures: the swiftest animal that bears you to perfection is suffering, for no one will enjoy more eternal bliss than those who stand with Christ in the greatest bitterness. Suffering is bitter as gall, but to have suffered is honey-sweet. Nothing disfigures the body before men so much as suffering, and yet nothing beautifies the soul before God so much as to have suffered. The surest foundation on which this perfection can rest is humility. For while the natural man crawls here in the deepest lowliness, his spirit flies up into the heights of the Godhead, for joy brings sorrow and sorrow brings joy. If anyone wishes to attain perfect detachment, let him strife for perfect humility, then he will come close to the Godhead. May the highest detachment, that is, God himself, assist us to achieve this. Amen." (O'Neal p.123/4)