A really great article from the Boston Globe details the ancient, amiable, and unfortunately mostly forgotten interactions between Christians and Buddhists in Asia. Here's a snippet:
...One story in particular suggests an almost shocking degree of collaboration between the faiths. In 782, the Indian Buddhist missionary Prajna arrived in Chang'an, bearing rich treasures of sutras and other scriptures. Unfortunately, these were written in Indian languages. He consulted the local Nestorian bishop, Adam, who had already translated parts of the Bible into Chinese. Together, Buddhist and Christian scholars worked amiably together for some years to translate seven copious volumes of Buddhist wisdom. Probably, Adam did this as much from intellectual curiosity as from ecumenical good will, and we can only guess about the conversations that would have ensued: Do you really care more about relieving suffering than atoning for sin? And your monks meditate like ours do?...
A hundred years from today who are you, sitting, reading a poem of mine, under curiosity’s sway - a hundred years from today?
Not the least portion of this young spring’s morning bliss, neither blossom nor birdsong, nor any of its scarlet splashes can I drench in passion and despatch to your hands a hundred years hence!
Yet do this, please: unlatch your south-faced door, just sit at your window for once; basking in fantasy, eyes on the far horizon, figure out if you can: how one day a hundred years back roving delights in a free fall from a heavenly region had touched all that there was - the infant Phalgun day, utterly free, was frenzied, all agog, while borne on brisk wings, the south wind pollen-scent-brushed had suddenly arrived and in a flash dyed the earth with all youth’s hues a hundred years before your day.
There lived then a poet, ebullient of spirit, his heart steeped in song, who wanted to open his words like so many flowers with so much passion one day a hundred years back.
A hundred years from today who is the new poet whose songs flow through your homes? To him I convey this springtime’s gladsome greetings. May my vernal song find its echo for a moment in your spring day in the throbbing of your hearts, in the buzzing of your bees, in the rustling of your leaves a hundred years from today.
..Zen Mountain is just one example of an ashram or monastery in upstate New York that promises to recharge the mind and spirit of its guests with a combination of simplicity and meditation, served up on a tight schedule. At least half a dozen of these spiritual retreats are tucked away among the Catskill Mountains.
Most have been around for several decades, but until recently their visitors were mainly practicing Buddhists, serious yoga students or devotees of an ashram’s guru. Today, these spots are attracting clientele from the surrounding metropolitan areas who’ve had limited interaction with Eastern religions, yoga or a spiritual guru. Like Mr. Malkmus, who spent several months before his trip clocking 60-hour workweeks, more nonbelievers are coming to experience the rigors of an ashram or monastery as a way to escape...
In Jan. '08, I had the great fortune to visit the famous cave temples of Ellora with my mother. Below is my account of the trip.
It was just after 10 in the morning yet the sun was already bearing down on us. The Deccan landscape reminded me of the sweeping landscapes found in Old Western movies, be they spaghetti or otherwise. After much planning and anticipation we were finally here, standing at the threshold to the Ellora caves. Wow.
Our "base camp" was the WelcomeRama, a nice hotel situated near the Aurangabad airport. Aurangabad itself is a city with a long and fascinating history. Located in Maharashrashtra state and a quick 45 min plane ride from Mumbai, Aurangabad and it's surrounding areas, I dare say, emcompass almost all the major phases of Indian history. In addition to famous Hindu temples, Sufi shrines, and the Jain/Hindu/Buddhist cave temples of Ajanta and Ellora , you'll also find the tomb of the last great Mughal emperor, Aurangzeb (from which the city takes it name). Nowadays, it's an up and coming boom-town on the forefront of India's development but still pays homage to it's glorious past with the annual Ellora-Ajanta Festival.
After breakfast, we met up with our driver (a pleasant local fellow) and arranged the details of our excursion: a trip to Ellora with a visit to Daulatabad Fortress on the way back. I then decided I'd break the ice and practice my Hindi a bit. Although Marathi is the local language, Hindi (as well as English) is widely spoken too.
Me: "Driver-sahab, Apka naam kya hai? - ड्राईवर सहब, आपका नाम क्या है?" (Driver-Sir, what's your name?)
Javed-Sahab: "Oho! Hindi-bolte?! Accha Accha! Maing Javed Mohammed Aktar hoon. - ओहो! हिन्दी बोलते?! अच्छा अच्छा। मैँ जावेद महोम्मेद अख़तर हूँ। (Oh! You speak Hindi huh? Great! I'm Javed Mohammed Akhtar.)
After some brief cordial talk, I then switched the topic to one of utmost seriousness.
Me: "Aapko Amitabh Bachchan pasand hai? - आपको अमिताभ बच्चन पसंद है?" (Do you like Amitabh Bachchan?) [the Bollywood Megastar...arguably the most famous man in India]
Javed-Sahab: "Ji, zaroor! Voh sabse accha hai! - जी, ज़रूर! वो सबसे अच्छा है!" (Of course! He's the greatest!)
Ellora is comprised of three cave groups, Buddhist, Hindu, and Jain. The Buddhist caves are the oldest (5-7th Century AD), followed by the Hindu ( 7th - 9th Century AD) and Jain caves (8 - 11th Centuries AD). The drive took about 30 minutes and we were dropped off first by the Jain caves. They're neatly tucked away from the Hindu and Buddhist caves which are clustered together.
The thing that immediately caught my attention was the not the statues of Tirthankars or the big Indian families with rowdy kids but the floor. For most caves, in accordance with Indian tradition (and to help preservation efforts) one's shoes must come off. Walking on the warm and amazingly smooth stone was a very unique experience. I'm not sure if the floors were polished by the builders or if the rock is naturally this smooth but I really felt "grounded' in the most literal sense. Although it was the "winter season" in India, the temperatures even in the late morning were a toasty 80°F (27°C) but the sensation of my feet on the smooth, warm stone floor was very pleasant.
My initial feeling of wandering through the caves with my mom was one of pure wonder. The alternation between peaceful, silent, stillness and waves noise (courtesy of the previously mentioned 'wild child' gang, boisterous school kids, and miscellaneous loud mouthed folks) was an interesting contrast that recurred throughout all the sites of Ellora.
Having explored the Jain caves, we then took a quick drive down to the "main site" to visit what is probably the biggest star of Ellora: Kailash Temple (कैलाश मंदिर). Built over a period of 150 years, there are two immediately striking things about it. The first is that it has a more South Indian style to it and the second is the entire thing was carved out from a single, giant piece of rock. Reading the last phrase may not seem so awe inspiring but hopefully the photos can give an idea of the massive scale and fine detail the temple is famous for.
Kailash Temple was built to function as a stylized and mystical representation of Mount Kailash in the Himalayas, where Hindus believe Lord Shiva dwells. This particular temple is therefore dedicated to Shiva. After exploring much of the "ground level" and side caves, my mom and I headed to the central structure that contained the inner sanctum. A simple room houses a shrine with a Shiva lingam in the center. A number of people (locals and tourists alike) took the opportunity to offer prayers and enjoy the serenity of a spot far removed from the constant hustle and bustle of the rest of the site. The fact that Kailash Temple was still a "living temple" and not simply an architectural showpiece reminded me that I had come to Ellora (and Ajanta) not really as a tourist but as a pilgrim.
From Kailash Temple, we wandered through some more of the adjacent Hindu caves. Although it was similar to the Jain caves, albeit with Hindu iconography, what I found in one of the caves pleasantly surprised me.
Places like Ellora draw all kinds of visitors from all kinds of backgrounds so I didn't make too much of an elderly Muslim man with four or five of his grandchildren nicely sitting on the floor in the middle of Cave 15. It was also no surprise when they began their noon prayers (dhuhr - ظهر) facing Mecca. Watching from afar however, I slowly realized I was witnessing a wonderfully unusual scene that illustrated the beauty of Indian pluralism. Here was a Muslim family praying inside of a Hindu cave with their direction of prayer directly facing the centrally placed Shiva lingam! Almost as if on cue, the family finished their prayers just as a group of French tourists walked in.
The last part of the Ellora visit was to the Buddhist set of caves. We decided it would be more convenient to "go in order" and start with the oldest (and farthest off) cave, Number 1. Although it and the other earlier caves were quite bare, there was a simple, utilitarian beauty to them.
Wandering through the other caves with their amazing sculptures of buddhas, bodhisattvas, and various celestial beings was, in a word, majestic. The rock-cut architectural style made everything seem so...organic, as if the sculptures weren't carved by artisans but rather manifested from the earth itself.
The statues and reliefs have been subjected to centuries of weathering as well as some abuse at human hands but they still effortlessly maintain their serene postures and calm, subduing expressions.
Cave 10 is a unique hall known as the 'Carpenter's Cave'. A seated buddha in the teaching pose (Dharmacakra Mudra) as well as the unique style of the hall itself (more reminiscent of the older caves at Ajanta) make it the most famous Buddhist cave of Ellora.
My personal favorite of all the caves would have to be Cave 12, called teen tal (तीन ताल), meaning 'three floors'. The uppermost floor contains rows of bodhisattvas flanking a row of buddhas on the center of the hall.
Aside from the beauty and arrangement of the sculptures themselves, another thing that moved me was thinking about the long history of the caves. For centuries, people who had completely devoted their lives to the Buddhadharma studied, prayed, meditated, worked, and lived right were I was walking around. Thinking about this made me reflect on a question that popped up in my head while wandering the Red Fort in Agra (the former capital of Mughal India) a week earlier: what condition will our cities, schools, and landmarks be in thousands of years from now? Will tourists throng to see the remains of the White House in Washington D.C. or the head of the Statue of Liberty in a museum? Maybe tour groups will roam ancient centers of learning like Berkeley, MIT, or Columbia or look upon the aged remains of the NASA platforms that launched human beings into space.
Overall, it took about 3.5 - 4 hours to see almost all of Ellora (we had to skip a few of the more far flung Hindu caves) but one can easily spend an entire day wandering around. I'd love to return soon, not simply to see sites I missed, but to once again be in the midst of a place that is, in so many ways, beyond time.
In 2005, Sanskrit language enthusiast and businessman John Clay, in association with the New York University Press began publishing the Clay Sanskrit Library. This massive publishing project aims to bring the greatest classics of Sanskrit literature to the modern audience. Bookforum gives a great overview of the series in their review:
Just because Sanskrit lacks a precise word for "angel"––amsara approximates the Judeo-Christian notion––the language doesn't lack for an actual angel. His name is John Clay, a businessman and lifelong devotee of Sanskrit literature who has created the Clay Sanskrit Library, copublished with New York University Press. Once completed, the series will comprise one hundred volumes, including the entire text of the Mahabhárata (in thirty-two volumes) and the Ramáyana (in eight). Each book is published in the geek-chic format made familiar by Harvard's Loeb Classical Library, with honeyed turquoise covers replacing the spartan reds and greens favored by Loeb.
The Clay Sanskrit Library, a marvelous new venture, grapples with these, and other, problems in a bold yet delicate manner. Modeled on the Loeb Library of Greek and Latin classics, the Clay Sanskrit Library (CSL) presents masterpieces of Sanskrit poetry, drama and prose in a dual-language format. In addition to the entire Mahabharata, one of the two national epics (it will occupy thirty-two volumes of the Library!), translation of some fifty other classical works is envisaged. The original Sanskrit (in transliteration) on the left side of the page faces the English translation on the right. Each volume includes a brief introduction to the author or work, a clear guide to Sanskrit pronunciation as well as a concise description of sandhi (that complicated system of “euphonic combination” in the script that drives beginners mad) and a “sandhi grid” (on the inside back cover of each volume), together with succinct but useful notes. The transliteration, which is at first a disappointment in place of the lovely Devanagari script, is very cleverly done to enable a beginning reader of the original to recognize the root forms of Sanskrit words. (In Devanagari script, sandhi causes the forms of final and initial letters in compounds to mutate or to fuse).
There series will ultimately contain 100 volumes and includes classic Buddhist literature. Ashvaghosa, with his "Life of the Buddha" (Buddhacaritaṃ - बुद्दचरितं), and "Handsome Nanda" (Saundaranada - सौन्दरनन्द) as well as the "Heavenly Exploits" -(Divyāvadana - दिव्यावदन), a Jataka-like series of birth stories are currently available.
How incredible! How incredible! Inanimate things proclaiming Dharma is conceivable. It can't be known if the ears try to hear it, But when the eyes hear it, then it may be known.
A new study by researchers at UC San Diego suggests that good cheer is indeed contagious:
LONDON – When you're smiling, the whole world really does smile with you. A paper being published Friday in a British medical journal concludes that happiness is contagious — and that people pass on their good cheer even to total strangers. American researchers who tracked more than 4,700 people in Framingham, Mass., as part of a 20-year heart study also found the transferred happiness is good for up to a year.
"Happiness is like a stampede," said Nicholas Christakis, a professor in Harvard University's sociology department and co-author of the study. "Whether you're happy depends not just on your own actions and behaviors and thoughts, but on those of people you don't even know."...
...So just why is Pop-Dharma so popular? Why would something that's only the "tip of the iceberg" be so appealing? With just a bit more effort, one can seriously and deeply dive into a spiritual tradition that has, over the past 2500 years, lead countless people to peace, joy, and liberation. Granted, many of those in the Pop-Dharma crowd do indeed decide to make a serious commitment to some form of practice, be it zazen, vipassana, etc., but there are also many who seem unwilling/unable to move past anything more than a superficial interest.
Before continuing, I should make myself quite clear: I do not at all believe the Buddha's teachings are an all-or-nothing affair. The diverse life experiences that we have necessarily informs the way we approach our practice. How could it not? The forms of Buddhism are so varied precisely because of this fact. Chinese Buddhism is well, very Chinese. Tibetan Buddhism is Tibetan, Sri Lankan Buddhism, Sri Lankan, etc. Part of the reason the Dharma was able to spread far and wide had to do with the inherent flexibility that the teachings contain.
In the reverse direction, I think that there are many interesting insights that Buddhist teachings contain which can illuminate other traditions. Jewish Buddhists (JuBus) and Zen Christians are perhaps the most prominent examples of this kind of interaction.
The issue(s) I'm interested in don't deal with what I just mentioned but rather with how many people seem to be "stuck" in the Pop-Dharma realm. There are many out there who consciously choose to remain in (or walk away from) this spiritual dilemma but there also many others who may want/need to really "take the plunge" but are held back by something(s).
As I mentioned previously, Pop-Dharma can be useful because it allows exploration of the teachings in a casual environment but really delving into the teachings and practices requires one very important thing: commitment. The numerous jokes in pop culture (often at the expense of men) attest to the fear of "being held down" or "stripped of freedom" and while I'm sure there are many who are uncomfortable with commitment (of one form or another) I think there are other, more influential factors which keep people from committing.
There may be Third and even Fourth Generation Dharma teachers in the West but Buddhism is still not yet, by any stretch, part of the mainstream. Even though many teachers/Sanghas have made strides in adapting the teachings to a Western context, Buddhism in the West still retains a very Asian feel. The majority of Buddhists in the US for example, come from Asian backgrounds and the monastics who live and teach at these "ethnic temples" are often from the country in which that tradition belongs. When many "book Buddhists" or Pop-Dharma folks walk into a temple and see things like bowing, offerings of candles/incense, and an attitude of deference towards the monastics, alarm bells are likely to go off.
A sizable chunk of the people who wind up exploring the Buddha's teachings (myself included) are lost and wounded refugees fleeing negative experiences with Western monotheism. The experiences many of us have had automatically make us suspicious of that which resembles the things we have turned away from. For many, rituals and devotional practices are more reflective of the cultural baggage that Buddhism has accrued over the centuries and there is a popular notion that it needs to be stripped away in order to free of it its "cultural trappings". I will argue however, that the real "cultural baggage" many people need to deal with isn't so much Asian as it is Western.
It's true that Buddhism has picked up many cultural influences and the way people think about and practice Buddhism in many places is more reflective of local customs/culture than what the Sage of the Shakyas originally taught in ancient India. Now that the Dharma has arrived in the West, it will certainly have to adapt yet again but the knee-jerk iconoclasm that plagues much of Buddhism in the West is part of what Berchloz is speaking of when he talks about Western practitioners who think they're smarter than a 2500 year old tradition.
One of my favorite stories regarding iconoclasm involves the famous Ch'an master Huang Po. This particular story deals with Huang Po (a typical Zen iconoclast himself) and the young man who was then the emperor of China:
A demonstration of Huang Po’s fearlessness is given in one of P’ei Hsiu’s anecdotes. His master was attending an assembly at the Bureau of the Imperial Salt Commissioners in the presence of the Emperor. The Son of Heaven noticed Huang Po make three bows before a statue of the Buddha and asked him what he expected to gain from this. The Emperor must have been aware of his [Huang-Po's] general teaching that all rituals are a waste of time since all is the Buddha-mind. Huang Po replied that it was his custom to show respect in this way. But the Imperial grandee insisted on a doctrinal answer.
"What purpose does it serve?" he persisted, whereupon Huang Po slapped him. "You are uncouth!",� cried the Emperor.
"What?!" rejoined the master, "You are making a distinction between uncouth and refined?",� and another slap landed on the Imperial visage. It is reported that the Emperor withdrew in the face of this onslaught and Huang Po went on his way unmolested, a remarkable fact, indeed for the times.
The Buddha taught that mindlessly clinging to rites and rituals (Pali: sīlabbataparāmāsa) is one of the Ten Fetters (samyojana) which keeps us trapped in the cycle of suffering. For those with a deeply rooted suspicion of "organized religion", this teaching is exactly what the doctor ordered. There is, however, a very interesting follow up to this concept. In addition to teaching about the danger of clinging to rites and rituals, the Buddha also taught that nagging skeptical doubt (vicikicchā) with regard to the Dharma is one of the Five Hindrances(pañca nīvaraṇāni) that impede our ability to practice and free ourselves from suffering.
There is certainly no shortage of quacks, charlatans, pseudo-gurus, and holy-roller scam artists out running around and we would do well to always use our critical faculties to protect ourselves from spiritual exploitation. The Buddha himself recommended this practice with the well known phrase "ehi passiko" - come and see. Similarly, in the well known Kalama Sutta, he advises a group of spiritual seekers to only accept teachings (including his own!) after a rigorous examination. But what happens after the "trial period" when we've put the teachings into practice and had a taste of their benefits?
Skeptical doubt was just mentioned as one of the Hindrances to spiritual practice. The traditional antidote to skeptical doubt is another word that tends to make many cringe: faith. The concept of faith (Pali: saddha, Sanskrit: shraddha, श्रद्धा) in the Buddhist context is quite different from what we find in Western monotheism. Far from belief without proof, faith in the Dharma revolves around establishing confidence based on what we've experienced and verified to be true. This, in turn, allows us to have faith in other aspects of the teachings which we may or may not be able to personally verify. In other words, the more we practice, the more we develop the mindset that allows us to open our hearts/minds to deep and meaningful positive changes. Having faith in the Dharma also means that we can be open and receptive of practices that may be vastly different from our own. Despite the various traditions and emphases, all followers of the Buddha have the same goal: end suffering. Throughout the sutras, one can find glowing and uplifting praises of the virtue of faith. The Avatamsaka Sutra (Ch. 12), for example says:
Faith is the basis of the Path, the mother of virtues, Nourishing and growing all good ways, Cutting away the net of doubt, freeing from the torrent of passion, Revealing the unsurpassed road of the ultimate peace. The Great Master Nagarjuna, in his work, Precious Garland, says:
Due to having faith one relies on the practices, Due to having wisdom one truly knows. Of these two wisdom is the chief. Faith is the prerequisite.
I think a big reason why folks are stuck in the Pop-Dharma realm has a lot to do with the iconoclasm I mentioned earlier. Pop-Dharma requires little to no faith which can sometimes be an excellent starting point. After all, monastics aren't in the habit of knocking on people's doors and trying to convert them to the "One True Path". The problem for Buddhism in the West however, is that mistaking Pop-Dharma for the the Real Deal effectively turns the Dharma into an ersatz spiritual, New Age, flower-power phenomenon: just another product on in the marketplace of things that make you feel good for a little while. This view deprives people from being able to make meaningful changes in their lives and at the same time, limits the power of the Buddha's teachings to change people for the better.
The Buddhadharma is often called the Middle Way because it avoids the extremes which lead us to suffering. On one had, we must avoid letting ourselves become close minded and intolerant. We must also (perhaps more relevantly) not allow our cynical, aversively skeptical tendencies shoot ourselves in the spiritual foot.
The Sutra of the Perfection of Wisdom's Diamond That Cuts Through Illusion, aka the Diamond Sutra has a useful passage to remember regarding faith and the willingness to delve into the Buddhadharma. Here (Chapter 6), the Buddha and his disciple Subhuti are discussing whether or not people in the future will have any faith in the Buddha's teachings. After affirming that there will indeed be people who not only have faith but also practice and become liberated, the Buddha talks to Subhuti about the nature of attaching to ideas and concepts. After telling Subhuti that bodhisattvas don't attach to perceptions or no-perceptions, the Buddha says:
And why not? Because, Subhuti, if these fearless bodhisattvas created the perception of a dharma, they would be attached to a self, a being, a life, and a soul. Likewise, if they created the perception of no dharma, they would be attached to a self, a being, a life, and a soul.
And why not? Because surely, Subhuti, fearless bodhisattvas do not cling to a dharma, much less no dharma. This is the meaning behind the Tathagatha's saying, "A dharma teaching is like a raft. If you should let go of dharmas, how much more so no-dharmas'?
The Winter 2008 Issue of Buddhadharmamagazine had a short article that I found really striking. It's taken from an interview between Thar Lam magazine and Samuel Berchloz, the founder of Shambhala Publications. The article is called "Buddhist Roadkill":
I think the most pressing issue facing Buddhism in the West is twofold. One part is that there are many Western Buddhist authors who somehow-because of their experience, or being students of Buddhism, or teachers of Buddhism for the last twenty or thirty years-are calling for a change in the way that Buddhism is taught. Their thinking is quite odd in that, based on their little bit of twenty or thirty years, or even if its forty years of being Buddhists, they think they're smarter than the 2,500-year-old tradition that has proven so worthwhile. They were turned on to this tradition when they were young, and now that they're old, because they're dissatisfied for one reason or another, they want to change it and edit it and take out the parts of it they don't like. Yes, sometimes they make intelligent observations, but I think it's extremely premature to make changes in the way Buddhism has been taught just because it's come to the West. It's extremely premature because what's been presented so far is just the tip of the iceberg of the teachings; it's not possible for the full transmission of Buddhism to take place in such a short time.
Another thing that I think is problematic in the West is this idea that Buddhism is an incomplete teaching because it doesn't deal with psychological issues. There are many avowed Buddhists who feel that without psychology, Buddhism doesn't work. That's a ridiculous thing to say, but it's said; there are dozens of books on it. The idea that the post-Freudian era has produced some great achievement is, to my way of looking at things, a joke compared to what Buddhism has done. Yes, there are people who have psychological issues. And no, meditation won't necessarily help their psychological issues. But there are other aspects of Buddhism, including a relationship with a good teacher, that in fact do deal with people's psychological issues. Many modern authors are saying that it's absolutely necessary to go to an analyst or psychoanalyst and have certain things cleared out of your system before you can really practice Buddhism. That's preposterous.
I think those issues are being pressed upon Buddhism for the most part by a generation that at this point may be frustrated. It won't last because this generation, which is my generation, is going into old age. There are new generations, and the only thing that would be really horrible is if the whiners and complainers become the ones that people listen to. There are many fine Buddhist teachers in the West who aren't whiners and complainers. Those are the ones to pay attention to, not the Buddhist roadkill-the ones who feel that Buddhism didn't deliver for them so they want to change it.
I think Berchloz's assessment is dead on, particularly the part about people who have been practicing a few decades thinking they're smarter than a 2,500-year-old tradition. It's a fact that the Buddhadharma will change now that it's reached the West. How it will morph into a new guise is unclear but we can already see some developments that are still in the embryonic phase. I'll name a few:
Engaged Buddhism: Buddhism with a decidedly "save the universe", social activist bent. Bringing back the pscyhodrama of yesteryear in a saffron colored package. Mish-Mashing: - Dabbling/practicing various Buddhist traditions simultaneously and in some cases, even trying to mix Buddhism with other religions; Judaism and Christianity in particular. Dharma-Lite: Watered down Buddhist teachings aimed at the general public. Tends to focus on vague/flowery ideas of feeling good.
Despite my smart-ass assessments of the above categories, I'm not entirely critical of these above movements. They all have their merits (I'm certainly "guilty" of them to varying extents) but I'd like to focus in particular on what's come to be known as "Dharma Lite". Because this phrase has taken on slightly negative connotations and because I'd like to make a fair exploration of this phenomenon, I'll use the term "Pop-Dharma" from now on.
When I first began to seriously study and practice the Buddhadharma, I had a VERY negative opinion of the Pop-Dharma crowd. To me they were flowery, indecisive, New-Agey, and suffering from a serious case of "Me-ism". They picked and choose like shoppers in the spiritual bazaar looking for the next good bargin instead of good quality "merchandise". Gradually however, my view of Pop-Dharma changed quite a bit. Maybe after looking deeply into myself (and the some of the "Dharma-Popper" in myself) and also having my heart softened by my practice, I came to see that the existence of Pop-Dharma is not only useful, but actually a necessity, at least at this point in time.
Buddhism has barely been in the West for a century and the fact that it comes to us from cultures very different from our own (Western) one means that Pop-Dharma can act as a useful springboard into serious study and practice. My guess is that this kind of "practice gradient" is how many people may have first gotten involved with the Buddha's teachings. Pop-Dharma can also serve as a venue for people to casually explore the teachings without fear of being caught up the well known malevolenent specter of "organized religion". People should be able to embrace the teachings of their own free will and because they've had a taste of the transformative power of the Dharma. Pop-Dharma makes this possible in an open, casual, and nonthreatening manner. That being said, the fact that Pop-Dharma relies on what many might easily call watered down, Cliffs-Notes, kiddie versions of more serious teachings represents a HUGE problem for establishing genuine Buddhist traditions in the West...
This is article was penned by NY Times columnist David Brooks back in May. He raises some very interesting ideas about the rise (and wane) of militant atheists, revolutions in neuroscience, and the beginnings of what he muses to be "neural Buddhism":
...Over the past several years, the momentum has shifted away from hard-core materialism. The brain seems less like a cold machine. It does not operate like a computer. Instead, meaning, belief and consciousness seem to emerge mysteriously from idiosyncratic networks of neural firings. Those squishy things called emotions play a gigantic role in all forms of thinking. Love is vital to brain development.
Researchers now spend a lot of time trying to understand universal moral intuitions. Genes are not merely selfish, it appears. Instead, people seem to have deep instincts for fairness, empathy and attachment.
Scientists have more respect for elevated spiritual states. Andrew Newberg of the University of Pennsylvania has shown that transcendent experiences can actually be identified and measured in the brain (people experience a decrease in activity in the parietal lobe, which orients us in space). The mind seems to have the ability to transcend itself and merge with a larger presence that feels more real. This new wave of research will not seep into the public realm in the form of militant atheism. Instead it will lead to what you might call neural Buddhism...
Pali is the language used to preserve the Buddhist canon of the Theravada Buddhist tradition, which is regarded as the oldest complete collection of Buddhist texts surviving in an Indian language. Pali is closely related to Sanskrit, but its grammar and structure are simpler. Traditional Theravadins regard Pali as the language spoken by the Buddha himself, but in the opinion of leading linguistic scholars, Pali was probably a synthetic language created from several vernaculars to make the Buddhist texts comprehensible to Buddhist monks living in different parts of northern India. It is rooted in the Prakrits, the vernacular languages, used in northern India during the Middle period of Indian linguistic evolution. As Theravada Buddhism spread to other parts of southern Asia, the use of Pali as the language of the texts spread along with it, and thus Pali became a sacred language in Sri Lanka, Myanmar, Thailand, Laos, Cambodia and Vietnam. Pali has been used almost exclusively for Buddhist teachings, although many religious and literary works related to Buddhism were written in Pali at a time when it was already forgotten in India.
This course is designed to help you to learn the basics of Pali grammar and vocabulary through direct study of selections from the Buddha’s discourses. It thus aims to enable you to read the Buddha’s discourses in the original as quickly as possible. The textbook for the course is A New Course in Reading Pali: Entering the Word of the Buddha by James Gair and W.S. Karunatilleke (1998, Motilal Banarsidass Publishers, Delhi, India. ISBN 81-208-1440-1). The Pali grammatical tables were designed by Bhikkhu Nyanatusita.
The course proceeds sequentially through the chapters, or "Lessons," in the textbook, each of which has three parts:
An initial set of readings and an accompanying glossary
Grammatical notes on the forms in the lesson
A set of further readings and a glossary
The lectures will be much more meaningful if the listener obtains a copy of the textbook and studies each lesson before listening to the associated set of lectures. Also, the textbook and lectures assume that the listener has a fundamental understanding of grammar. For those whose who feel that their knowledge of grammar needs refreshing, we recommend Pali Grammar for Students by Steven Collins (2006, Silkworm Books, ISBN 978-974-9511-13-8).
"If men would steadily observe realities only, and not allow themselves to be deluded, life, to compare it with such things as we know, would be like a fairy tale and the Arabian Nights' Entertainments. If we respected only what is inevitable and has a right to be, music and poetry would resound along the streets. When we are unhurried and wise, we perceive that only great and worthy things have any permanent and absolute existence, that petty fears and petty pleasures are but the shadow of the reality. This is always exhilarating and sublime. By closing the eyes and slumbering, and consenting to be deceived by shows, men establish and confirm their daily life of routine and habit everywhere, which still is built on purely illusory foundations. Children, who play life, discern its true law and relations more clearly than men, who fail to live it worthily, but who think that they are wiser by experience, that is, by failure".
On November 4th, 2008, Barack Hussein Obama was elected the 44th President of the United States of America. It's the kind of thing that will make people ask "where were you when it happened?" As it turns out, I spent most of the evening at the Berkeley Buddhist Monastery...of course.
The first Tuesday of November, aside from being the traditional election day in the US, is also part of the "First Tuesday" monthly lecture series given by the monks at Abhayagiri Monastery. It's always a great opportunity to see the monks and there's normally a packed house although this time there were, unsurprisingly, fewer people in the Buddha hall.
After the opening meditation period, Ajahn Amaro (himself a recently naturalized U.S. citizen!) made some jokes about the attendence with his characteristic wry, British style. "Hmm, I wonder where everyone could be. Is there something going on that I don't know about?"
He then eased into a Dhamma talk on a topic most appropriate for the evening: uncertainty. The main theme of his talk was that we must recognize the precarious situation we put ourselves in when we attempt to tie our happiness (or sadness) to external conditions that are always changing. It was very inspiring and I walked out of there with a feeling that even if the sky falls down, everything will be OK. That being said, I completely and wholeheartedly failed to put this teaching into practice that evening.
Shortly after leaving the monastery, received a call from my mother informing me of the news regarding Barack's blowout victory. I was absolutely ecstatic and it seemed everyone, and I mean EVERYONE seemed to be as well. Random crowds of well wishers and cars beeping their horns to the "Yes We Can!" tune could be heard everywhere. The night, however, was still quite young.
One of the guys who lives in my building and is friends with my roommate had called him up and told him about a "crazy ass victory rally" occurring on the south side of campus. Not wanting to miss any of the actions, my roommate and I went to check it out. Arriving first at Sproul Plaza (site of the Free Speech Movement many years ago) we came across a big crowd cheering and being happy. Walking further down though, we encountered a mass of revelers jamming up the intersection of Telegraph and Durant Avenues. There were hundreds, if not thousands of people singing, cheering, screaming, and celebrating a sweet fruition of the American Dream. Fortunately, I had a camera to record this epic moment and the pictures can be viewed here.
If Bill Clinton was the "first black president" then the the cool, contemplative demeanor of "No Drama Obama" most certainly makes Barack the "first Buddhist president".
The Chicago Tribune recently ran a story about Judy Franklin (now Venerable Vimala) and her fascinating path to ordaining as a nun in the Theravada tradition.
Come gather 'round people Wherever you roam And admit that the waters Around you have grown And accept it that soon You'll be drenched to the bone. If your time to you Is worth savin' Then you better start swimmin' Or you'll sink like a stone For the times they are a-changin'.
Come writers and critics Who prophesize with your pen And keep your eyes wide The chance won't come again And don't speak too soon For the wheel's still in spin And there's no tellin' who That it's namin'. For the loser now Will be later to win For the times they are a-changin'.
Come senators, congressmen Please heed the call Don't stand in the doorway Don't block up the hall For he that gets hurt Will be he who has stalled There's a battle outside And it is ragin'. It'll soon shake your windows And rattle your walls For the times they are a-changin'.
Come mothers and fathers Throughout the land And don't criticize What you can't understand Your sons and your daughters Are beyond your command Your old road is Rapidly agin'. Please get out of the new one If you can't lend your hand For the times they are a-changin'.
The line it is drawn The curse it is cast The slow one now Will later be fast As the present now Will later be past The order is Rapidly fadin'. And the first one now Will later be last For the times they are a-changin'.
The day is cold, and dark, and dreary It rains, and the wind is never weary; The vine still clings to the mouldering wall, But at every gust the dead leaves fall, And the day is dark and dreary.
My life is cold, and dark, and dreary; It rains, and the wind is never weary; My thoughts still cling to the mouldering Past, But the hopes of youth fall thick in the blast, And the days are dark and dreary.
Be still, sad heart! and cease repining; Behind the clouds is the sun still shining; Thy fate is the common fate of all, Into each life some rain must fall, Some days must be dark and dreary.
I enjoy the stillness of winter and the vigor of spring and summer but autumn has always been my favorite season. I'd be lying if the traditional North American foods associated with fall didn't play some part in this; pumpkin pie, pomegranates, sweet potato pie, apple cider, pecan pie, etc.
Things are, of course, always changing but autumn seems to announce the seasonal tide in a way that's deeply resonated with me for as long as I can remember. The temperature becomes gradually cooler, the wind crisper, and the moons hazier. As a kid, the excessive free time of summer gave way to the structure and hard work of a new school year. TV shows are resurrected with new episodes and the long daylight of summer gradually gives way to the creeping night of winter.
Seeing and experiencing the changes of autumn tends to make me reflect on the various changes occurring in my own life.
The idea of change, or impermanence (Pali: anicca अनिच्च) can be tricky to grasp but Thich Nhat Hanh, in his classic "The Heart of the Buddha's Teaching" gives a beautiful explanation of impermanence:
If we see impermanence as merely a philosphy, then it is not the Buddha's teaching. Every time we look or listen, the object of our perception can reveal to us the nature of impermanence. We have to nourish our insight into impermance all day long.When we look deeply into impermance, we see that things change because causes and conditions change. When we look deeply into nonself, we see that the existence of every single thing is possible only because of the existence of everything else. We see that everything else is the cause and condition for its existence. We see that everything else is in it.
From the point of view of time, we say, "impermance," and from the point of view of space, we say, "nonself". Things cannot remain themselves for two consecutive moments, therefore there is nothing that can be called a permanent "self". Before you entered this room, you were different physically and mentally. Looking deeply at impermanence, you see nonself. Looking deeply at nonself, you see impermanence. We cannot say, "I accept impermance but nonself is too difficult." They are the same.
Understanding impermance can give us confidence, peace, and joy. Impermanence does not necessarily lead to suffering. Without impermance, life could not be. Without impermance, your daughter could not grow up into a beautiful young lady. Without impermance, oppresive political regimes would never change. We think impermance makes us suffer. The Buddha gave the example of a dog that was hit by a stone and got angry at the stone. It is not impermance that makes us suffer. What makes us suffer is wanting things to be permanent when they are not.
As I mentioned at the beginning, autumn is the season that makes me think of impermanence and one of my favorite songs that makes me think of autumn is Chicane's "Autumn Tactics". Featuring the smooth vocals of Justine Suissa, the song presents a relaxed and introspective look at the changes of autumn. It's one of those songs that can evoke a wide variety of responses and feelings depending on one's mood. Below is the original mix from the classic album "Behind the Sun". Enjoy!
The Moving Finger writes; and, having writ, Moves on: nor all thy Piety nor Wit Shall lure it back to cancel half a Line, Nor all thy Tears wash out a Word of it.
The 'hero' archetype is one that is truly universal. In every culture and country, throughout all periods of time, we can find people who are considered heroes. David Bowie, the "chameleon of rock" who always seems ahead of his time, needs no introduction. So what happens when David Bowie makes the 'hero' a subject of his artistic talents? A really great song!
My first exposure to this song was in 1998 via The Wallflowers'cover. Theirs was an admirable and catchy attempt although, as is the case with most covers, the original version is unbeatable.
I, I wish you could swim. Like the dolphins-like dolphins can swim. Though nothing-nothing will keep us together. We can beat them-for ever and ever.
The hero motif runs very deep within the Buddha's Dharma. Many of the epithets or titles of a buddha have very heroic rings to them. The Transcendent Perfection of Energy/Diligence is known as virya pāramitā (विर्य पारमिता), with 'virya' (a cognate with the Latin 'virlis' and English 'virile') implying great heroism. 'Arhat' (अर्हत्) means "one worthy of offerings", 'bhagavat' (भगवत्) means "blessed one", and jinā (जिना), a term also applied to Jain tirthankars, means "victor" or "victorious one". The names go on but the take home message is that enlightened beings (buddhas, bodhisattvas, and arhats) are heroes. Before delving into what makes these beings heroic, let's first look at how heroes arise.
As Lao Tzu says "a journey of a thousand miles starts under one's feet". For those who wind up walking the Path of Awakening, the journey starts with an aspiration: a big one. To "wish to swim" is one thing but wishing to "swim like a dolphin" is bigger still. In the same way, the wish to be freed from suffering is big but the aspiration to become enlightened for the benefit of all beings is bigger still. Splashing in the kiddie pool to stay afloat is incomparable to a majestic dolphin effortlessly gliding through the vast oceans. This resolution, known in the texts as bodhicitta (बोधिचित्त), is often called the Supreme Resolution or the Greatest of all Thoughts.
To make such a lofty vow seems inconceivable at best and at worst, just plain impossible. Yet this vow is the fundamental motivation for the practice of bodhisattvas. When viewed in this light, all practice can take on farther reaching, cosmic attributes. For example, in many Mahayana temples, the Three Refuges are recited with slight modifications that reflect the vastness of the bodhisattva's vows:
"I take refuge in the Buddha, and I wish that all sentient beings will awaken to the Great Path and make the Supreme Resolution.
I take refuge in the Dharma, and I wish that all sentient beings will delve into the sutras, their wisdom and deep as the ocean.
I take refuge in the Sangha, and I wish that all sentient beings will be brought together in great harmony, without any obstructions at all".
In the first teaching after his enlightenment, the Buddha said that suffering (partly) consists of being separated from what we love. As we move from life to life, it is inevitable that the closest and dearest relationships we have, such as those with our spouses, parents, siblings, children, friends, teachers, etc., will be broken by old age, sickness, and finally death. Sound morbid? Welcome to samsara (संसार). Although "nothing can keep us together", it is certainly possible for us to go beyond the cycle of suffering and the cycle of birth and death. We "can beat them for ever and ever" if we take the "them" to refer to Mara (मार), the personification/representation of all that negative in cycle of existence.
Oh we can be heroes-just for one day.
The word 'hero' comes from the ancient Greek term 'hērōs'(ἥρως ) and originally referred to epic characters that were somewhere between gods and mortals. Many great heroes of the Classic Western epics (Odysseus, Aeneas, Achilles, etc.) were mortals with "divine blood" running through their veins.
Upon hearing the word 'hero', our minds immediately jump to lofty descriptions about people who do deeds that no on else can perform, endure things that no one else can endure, and know things that no one else can know. In the texts, beautiful and eloquent descriptions abound regarding the Buddha, his disciplines, the bodhisattvas, and others who are considered heroes.
It is not only the great wisdom, compassion, diligence, patience, and virtue which makes enlightened beings heroes. The main reason why they're called heroes is because they have gone beyond suffering and have helped, are helping, and will help others go beyond suffering as well.
By saying "we can be heroes", Bowie touches on a vitally unique aspect of the Buddha's teachings, i.e. when we walk the path of Awakening, we walk the same path that the buddha and all other enlightened beings walk. For example, The Heart Sutra says: All buddhas of the past, present, and future,also take refuge in Prajñāpāramitā (प्रज्ञापारमिता -The Perfection of Wisdom)and realize unexcelled, perfect enlightenment (अनुत्तरांसम्यक्संबोधि - anuttara samyak sambodhi). -(translated by Bill Porter/Red Pine).
In Western monotheism, statements like "I can be Jesus" or "I can be the Prophet Mohammad" would be indefensibly blasphemous and heretical. For a practitioner of the Buddha Dharma to say "I can be a buddha" is the definition of the Supreme Resolution (vide supra) and is, in the Mahayana tradition, the fundamental purpose of practice.
A hero is a hero, no matter if its for eternity or just for one day. Similarly, all it takes is a single penetrating insight to really change the way we view the world and interact with it. In the Platform Sutra, the Sixth Ch'an Patriarch Hui Neng says:
"Just as one lamp can disperse the darkness of athousand years, one thought of wisdom can destroy tenthousand years of delusion". -(Buddhist Text Translation Society Translation)
The Dhammapada expresses a related idea:
"Better than one hundred years lived Without seeing the ultimate Dharma Is one day lived Seeing the ultimate Dharma" -Ch. 9, verse 112, translated by Gil Fronsdal
I, I will be king And you-you will be queen Though nothing will drive them away We can be heroes-just for one day We can beat them-just for one day
We've established what makes a hero and how heroes arise. These lines and all the rest that follow reiterate the same point: we can be heroes. You, me, our parents, our neighbors, our favorite barista, the glamorous celebrity, the drunken beggar, all of us have the capacity to be heroes.
As for being "kings and queens", bodhisattvas are usually depicted wearing the garbs of royalty, often adorned with wonderful jewels, crowns, necklaces, etc. One reason for this has little to do with aesthetics. Heroes can come in many, many forms. This is shown in the final chapter of the Avatamsaka Sutra, (known as the Gandavyuha or Entry into the Inconceivable) where the spiritual pilgrim Sudhana meets and receives Dharma teachings from kings, children, courtesans, goddesses, and many others.
The seemingly impossible nature of treading the bodhisattva path was mentioned earlier and the line "though nothing will drive them away" is yet another reference to this idea. The Four Great Vows address the idea of "impossibility" by showing that we can be heroes even if we "don't drive away" the unskillful aspects of our being all at once:
Sentient beings are numberless; I vow to save them. Desires are inexhaustible; I vow to put an end to them. Dharmas are boundless; I vow to master them. The Buddha Way is unattainable; I vow to attain it. -translated by the Mountains and Rivers Order of Zen Buddhism
I, I can remember Standing-by the wall And the guns-shot above our heads And we kissed-as though nothing could fall And the shame-was on the other side Oh we can beat them-forever and ever Then we could be heroes-just for one day We can be heroes (3x) Just for one day
Much has been said about the lofty attributes of epic heroes and while it can be very helpful to draw inspiration and motivation from these people and their stories, it is vital to not lose perspective in regards to the "ordinary world". Epic heroes may be the subject of Hollywood blockbusters but sometimes it's the mundane deeds of everyday heroes that make the profound impression on us.
Not many people wake up with the thought "I will do a heroic deed today!" Many times, being a hero means doing something ordinary in an extraordinary circumstance. The little story Bowie presents in these lines are an example of this. It starts out with him simply "standing by a wall" but we soon find out that there are "guns" are "shots above our heads", implying he's in the middle of a war zone or shootout of some sort.
In the midst of such chaos, he does something seemingly bizarre: he kisses someone. In many cultures, particularly the West, a kiss is an expression of love, affection, intimacy, and endearment. War has the terrible ability to dehumanize people and bring out the worst that humanity has within itself and yet Bowie opens his heart by kissing "as though nothing could fall". Kissing the ones we love in a normal situation can seem like a natural, if mundane thing to do but the heroic stance taken by Bowie underscores how important it is to pay attention to the everyday occurrences in our lives.
There is a famous koan where master Zhaozhou (趙州從諗) asks Nanquan (南泉普願) what The Way is. Nanquan replies by saying "Ordinary mind is the way".
Layman Pang, the famous Ch'an master was once asked what he was up to. His now famous words were "before enlightenment, I chopped wood and carried water. After enlightenment, I chopped wood and carried water".
Having embraced his loved one, Bowie tells us that "the shame-was on the other side" of the wall. The Buddha's famous discourse on loving-kindness, the Metta Sutta says:
...So with a boundless heart Should one cherish all living beings. Radiating kindness over the entire world. Spreading upwards to the skiesAnd downwards to the depths, Outwards and unbounded,Freed from hatred and ill-will... -from the Abhayagiri Monastery Chanting Book
In his famous essay, "East and West", Rabindranth Tagore speaks of love's power in the context of the Buddha and how his teachings shattered many walls:
"We know of an instance in our own history of India, when a great personality, both in his life and voice, struck the keynote of that solemn music of the soul - love for all creatures. And that music crossed seas, mountains, and deserts. Races belonging to different climates, habits, and languages were drawn together, not in the clash of arms, not in the conflict of exploitation, but in the harmony of life, in amity and peace".
The song concludes with the previous exhortations of how we can be heroes, even if its just for one day. What, however, happens when we become heroes? According the last chapter of the Dhammapada:
"Whoever, having given up liking and disliking, Has become cooled, without attachments, A hero overcoming the entire world, I call a brahmin". -Ch. 26, verse 418, translated by Gil Fronsdal
We are the time. We are the famous metaphor from Heraclitus the Obscure.
We are the water, not the hard diamond, the one that is lost, not the one that stands still.
We are the river and we are that greek that looks himself into the river. His reflection changes into the waters of the changing mirror, into the crystal that changes like the fire.
We are the vain predetermined river, in his travel to his sea.
The shadows have surrounded him. Everything said goodbye to us, everything goes away.
Memory does not stamp his own coin.
However, there is something that stays however, there is something that bemoans.
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