Glorious Awakening of the Three Jewels

Sunday October 19, 2008 was a very special day for me.  On this day Lopon Barbara of the Garchen Buddhist Institute in Prescott, AZ came to town for a day of Dharma.  Our little Sangha had more attendance on this day than it has in awhile, which is not surprising when the teacher comes to town, which is only once a year.

The reason this day was most special for me was that I took my refuge vows, and officially entered the Buddhist fold. I was even given a Dharma name, which is “Glorious Awakening of the Three Jewels”.  With this as well, I may actually call myself a true Buddhist, and not just someone who follows Buddhist philosophy.  I know what you’re thinking and yes, it’s only a label, but you know what, I’m happy about it and it means alot to me.  On top of taking the refuge vows, I ALSO took the Bodhisattva vows on the same day, which I will talk about more in detail in another post.

When I decided to formally commit myself to the Buddhist path, it was a big deal for me.  I’m a habitual fence sitter and rarely make decisions to which I’m fully committed.  I always tend to go the passive-aggressive route and half-commit, yet never forgetting to leave me an out (I never ACTUALLY said I could make it on Tuesday, I just said I’d try).  I hate this habit, and I vow to change it, right here and now.  This was the first big step towards that change for me.

Buddhism has been a touchy topic with my Wife and I as her level of understanding isn’t where mine is, nor does she understand my draw towards formal commitment.  After engaging in some healthy conflict, she said that she felt she understood and gave me her blessing to take the vows, which is what I was truly looking for.  I don’t want my Buddhist half to be a thorn in our marriage, even though it has been at many times so far.

I can’t begin to tell you how wonderful I feel right now.  I truly feel reborn and ready to work.  I haven’t had any supernatural experiences, nor did anything descend from the clouds in the form of a dove, but I feel a new fire within, and it feels great.

If you want me to post the details of how the overall process of taking the vows was, I would be happy to do so, just leave a comment and let me know.

Cynicism and truth, part 1

I look forward to my weekly podcasts with The ID project – Ethan Nicturne’s unique and modern interpretation of Buddhism is educational, honest, and entertaining. This week the topic was Cynicism and the 3 pillars of zen. As a religious refugee, his talk hit upon a lot of thoughts I’ve had lately and he put it so eloquently: (Keep in mind that he was speaking – not writing!)

“One of the things that I’ve always like about the Buddhist tradition is that you are required to be skeptical. Now that’s a strong statement. I did not just say it’s unlike some other spiritual traditions because they let you ask questions, or if you’re a somewhat disbelieving son of a bitch like myself they’ll allow you to stay in the room, right – but they really want you to come around to their perspective. The Buddhist tradition is a method of investigation and inquiry that requires disbelief to function. Do you see the difference? It’s different than saying if you have any questions, sure, and we’ll enlighten you, and then eventually you’ll get it, and become a Buddhist and we’ll humor you through that process. You need to not believe – to get anything out of this. So that really fascinated me, Because of that I think it’s the perfect method of life inquiry for our post-modern, democratic society. “

Ethan hits it on the head for me. This method of inquiry is so refreshing because it is ego-less in it’s approach. We get to approach the teachings with a skeptical mind, and through application we see if they actually work. The Buddhist teachers are the first to say, “hey, if it doesn’t work, don’t use it. No problem.” This way of approaching spiritual life is all about truth, not about belief. The tradition is about using what literally works, not about defending a set of beliefs. There is nobody trying to convert anybody. The basic premise of the tradition is to sit, be still and pay attention. If you pay attention, truth will be illuminated. Religion goes the opposite way and says, “Here’s a list of things that are true – live this way. Take this list and through belief that these things are true, they’ll be true. If you want to ask God yourself – good! Ask him. But if you get a different answer than we believe in, just keep asking until you get the right answer.” I know this is provocative to say, but it seems to me that religion asks us to believe in things with no burden of proof. This later approach is similar to using the scientific method in reverse – taking an assumption and finding the proof to justify the belief. In the Buddhist tradition, it’s the other way around. It’s about keeping a completely fearless, open mind and noticing what pieces of truth I can find along the path. The burden of proof is on the teaching itself – the awareness of reality, rather than on the practitioner or the rigid belief. It’s so beautifully said in my favorite quote by Thich Nhat Hanh: “Your own life is the instrument with which we experiment with the truth.”

Greenfrog sent me the following story while back, knowing it would make me smile.

August 31, 2008
Tricycle’s Daily Dharma
What Happens to Most Pieces of Truth
One day Mara, the Buddhist god of ignorance and evil, was traveling through the villages of India with his attendants. He saw a man doing walking meditation whose face was lit up in wonder. The man had just discovered something on the ground in front of him. Mara’s attendants asked what that was and Mara replied, “A piece of truth.” “Doesn’t this bother you when someone finds a piece of the truth, O evil one?” his attendants asked. “No,” Mara replied. “Right after this they usually make a belief out of it.”
-Christina Feldman and Jack Kornfield, in Stories of the Spirit, Stories of the Heart
from Everyday Mind, edited by Jean Smith, a Tricycle book

Interestingly enough, faith is a big part of Buddhism. I’ll continue this post and jump into the 3 pillars and how contemplative study actually illuminates the truths within religion. In the meantime, take a listen to Ethan’s dharma talk – it’s a good one. (It’s on I-tunes under ID Project)

Life as an Illusion

Guest post by Justin Self:
http://www.myspace.com/machinefaultred

I have this very new feeling that life is like a dream, or an illusion.

Interestingly, I read at some time that this is a symptom of some depression or disorder. I think there is problem with this though, and that lies in the interpretation of illusion – first, a standard interpretation, then the Buddhist interpretation, which is often misunderstood (Western thought process):

Standard interpretation of “illusion”: you see water in the distance of the desert, but it is just a heat mirage – the water does not exist, though you may believe it to

Buddhism/Hinduism interpretation of “illusion”, as far as I understand it to be: our bodies and all that which surrounds us – whether physical matter, mental idea or thought, and emotions of love or suffering – are impermanent. They do not last forever. Things fade, things die. Things are temporary.

The fault with us as human beings is that, many of us grasp onto these things in our life, that we believe will always be there. You could say it is taking something for granted. The feeling of love with another is true, the house you own is true, the mental processes in your brain are true (on a physiological level, at least). So to say that such things are illusions inherently – yes, it’s hard to believe, and not easy to grasp.

However, what is illusionary of the above examples is this: that they last forever, or are perpetual. Within that concept, they are illusions. When we die, we will not have such things. Even though they may remain on this earth, they are no longer ours, whatever the possession may be. Again, it is temporary.

I think a big mistake which seems to be again, a very Western mistake, is assuming that “forever”, means one’s lifetime. “I will love you forever, I will always have this or that, I will never forget you”. So, within the scope of one’s lifetime – could you say any of the above examples in truth? Perhaps, but we know that sometimes things change, and that affects our feelings, thoughts and attachments. Now, within the scope of beyond your life, beyond your death – could you say any of the above examples in truth? No.

Then, from this perspective… is the thought of life being an illusion, or feeling illusionary – a mark of depression or disorder? I wholeheartedly believe no, if you accept the second interpretation of illusion, which again, is:

our bodies and all that which surrounds us – whether physical matter, mental idea or thought, and emotions of love or suffering – are impermanent. They do not last forever. Things fade, things die.

This can only mean one thing: I’ve come to a true realization and acceptance of mortality. I’ve come, to grasp the bigger picture of life – and able to understand the trivial from the significant. Though, that ability isn’t so new. For many years I realized what life in general, or my life – could suffice without. But I think that lately there is an extension of that ability. It’s grasping the impermanence of life as a whole, and how things fit therein.

For example, at some point we are going to cease living. It is something I never chose to accept, though I knew it to be true. Mentally perhaps emotionally I remained stubborn about it. Naturally, I still wouldn’t wish my life or another’s to end “before their time”. However, grasping the bigger picture and accepting the outcome, it makes you re-evaluate what really matters. I think this has manifested itself in how I interpret and react to things. For instance, I’m a very humble person – I won’t accept money or even food if offered if you are not family, sometimes even friend. Another example would be, caring what others think – whether it’s the music I’m listening to, what I’m writing about, what I have to say in a heated and open moment, or in a completely open expression of true feelings, of love.

Those examples, within the bigger picture that I have now, would be different now. Is it so bad to accept a kind offer once in awhile, am I so undeserving? No. Does it really matter what you think of me based upon the lyrics born of someone else’s heart, accompanied by music I enjoy? No. Does it matter that you might cast assumption at a glance of what I’m writing? No. Does it matter enough for me to become vulnerable and admit my feelings? No.

Why? Because any of those little bothers or moments of discomfort do not last forever. They are inherent to the moment at hand. Just as the bite of an honest few words, or the pain of a lost loved one, is impermanent in itself. It is how you react and carry yourself forward that determines how you feel from that point forward. Whether you want to grab that thorny branch of feelings, and pull it with you all your life – is your choice. But it doesn’t have to last forever, because – it doesn’t.

“On the basis of this misconception which ties together the hearts of the male and female, one becomes attracted to his body, home, property, children, relatives and wealth. In this way one increases life’s illusions and thinks in terms of ‘I and mine.”
Bhagavat Purana 5.5.8
http://hinduism.iskcon.com/concepts/105.htm

Lama Obama?

Should Obama convert to Tibetan Buddhism?

Let’s go to Stephen Colbert with guest Lama Surya Das for more on the story.

Nothing Holy: A Zen Primer

Nothing Holy: A Zen Primer
By Norman Fischer

Most of us associate Zen with black robes and rock gardens, but do we really know what it is? Norman Fischer takes us through the principles and practices of the major schools of Zen.

1. A Zen Wave

Like ocean waters, intellectual currents are always in motion. They churn up organic matter from below, creating and extending powerful nutritional mixtures. When groups of people at a particular historical moment begin to experience the world in a particular way, naturally they meet and talk, ponder, read and write. They are open to diverse influences. Eventually the energy of their discourse crests and breaks like a sudden wave, and soon people around them find themselves affected. So cultures mix, dissolve and change.

In this way, a Zen wave broke on North American shores in the middle of the twentieth century. It probably didn’t begin as a Zen wave at all, but rather as a reflex to the unprecedented violence the first part of the century had seen. After two devastating world wars, small groups of people here and there in the West were beginning to realize, as if coming out of a daze, that the modernist culture they had depended on to humanize and liberalize the planet wasn’t doing that at all. Instead it was bringing large-scale suffering and dehumanization. What was the alternative?

In the early 1950’s, D.T. Suzuki, the great Japanese Zen scholar and practitioner, arrived at Columbia University in New York to teach some classes on Zen. Suzuki was a magnet for the yearning that was at that time still underground. The people who met him, attended his classes or were otherwise influenced by his visit constitute a Who’s Who of American cultural innovation at that period. Alan Watts, whose popular books on Zen were hugely influential, was there. So was John Cage, who from then on wrote music based on chance operations, on the theory that being open to the present moment, without conscious control, was the essence of Suzuki’s—and Zen’s—message.

Cage influenced Merce Cunningham, the dancer-choreographer, who in turn influenced many others in the performance art field. The Zen-derived notion of spontaneous improvisation became the essence of bebop, the post-war jazz movement. For Allen Ginsberg, Jack Kerouac, Gary Snyder, Philip Whalen and the other Beat-generation poets, Zen was a primary source, a sharp tool for prying the lid off literary culture as they knew it.

Within ten years, lively Japanese Zen masters who, from their side of the Pacific, had also been dreaming a Zen wave, were coming to America to settle. With the 1960’s and the coming of age of a new generation radicalized by the Vietnam war and psychotropic drugs, what had been churning underneath for decades broke out in a glorious and exhilarating spray. The first Zen centers in America were bursting with students willing to make serious commitments right away. It was an exciting and confusing time, perhaps unprecedented in the history of world religions.

I was part of this Zen wave. The cultural undercurrents I have been describing took place during my formative years. A student of literature and religion, I was sensitive enough to feel the brokenness that lay under the placid social veneer of the American culture I was raised in. So when I discovered Zen in the writings of D.T. Suzuki in the late 1960’s, I was dumbstruck. Here was exactly what I needed, a completely new way of experiencing the world. The compromising, experiential and immediate search for meaning that Zen proposed, without need of doctrine or belief, struck a chord in me. Like so many, I wasn’t looking for a new religion: I wanted a way to blast through the options that seemed available to me. I wanted real freedom. Zen promised this.

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Suffering