Last week, my sister started a photo blog. Using her phone camera, she's offering a small snap shot of images from her daily life. Carrie has been a professional art photographer for a little under a decade now. She's done an amazing amount of work in a relatively short period of time, and has already won a major award, had a few photos in the New York Times, and has put together multiple book-length exhibits. I encourage you all to go take a look.
While I am more successful in the writing world, I also have a penchant for photography. One of the reasons I like Carrie's current project is that it's a similar approach to how I work. The cameras I have used have always been of average or even below average quality. I like the challenge of trying to bring an image alive through a limited means. In addition, I am often drawn to what might be considered the un-picture-worthy. Things like broken down buildings. Overgrowth and junk in alleys. Tree stumps.
Today, though, I want to offer you all some photos from the annual May Day festival we had yesterday in Minneapolis. For the past 5 months, I have been part of the core organizing/visioning team for an eco-centric offshoot of Occupy Minneapolis called the Whealthy Human Village. It's a multifaceted project that focuses on eco-centric life practices, food justice, indigenous rights, and healing arts. Underlying all of work, really, is the thread of interconnectedness. And everything we are doing and envisioning is about helping people uncover or recover their connection to each other and the planet.
I led a meditation to begin the day yesterday where we visualized our favorite plants, merged ourselves with them, and then experienced each stage of the life cycle, from seed to death. Afterwards, I did a short check in with the group about their experiences. One participant spoke of how she was surprised at how her emotions changed as the meditation unfolded. How she felt proud and powerful as her plant unfolded into it's mature expression, and also gratitude for having been able to make it so far in life. Another member of the group spoke of the sadness she felt when half of her beloved tree split off and died. A third member of the group spoke of his challenge to keep to one plant. That other "favorite" plants kept coming in, vying for attention.
The whole day was like this. One beautiful experience after another. And so, here are some photos to offer you a snapshot into what we all experienced. May joy permeate your life, even when deep suffering is present.
Monday, May 14, 2012
Friday, May 4, 2012
India Patents Yoga Poses
"India has made available a list of 1,300 newly registered yoga poses, compiled to prevent the ancient moves from being exploited by patent pirates, the Times of India said.
Hindu gurus and some 200 scientists compiled the list from 16 ancient texts to prevent yoga teachers in the United States and Europe from patenting established poses as their own."
Last year, I wrote a post about the lawsuits of hot yoga businessman Bikram against other yoga teachers using similar poses/sequences to the ones his studios off. In that post, I wrote the following:
The decision to patent yoga poses is a direct response to the actions of people like Bikram. It's also an intelligent counter-use of a capital tool in my opinion. This isn't the first time India has gone this route. Some of you might recall that the neem tree was under threat for decades, until multiple court cases led to the revoking of patents in 2005. Biopiracy continues to be a major threat across the globe, however, as are other aspects of the modern colonialism, which is what the actions of folks like Bikram should rightly be called.
Trying to claim ownership over ancient spiritual practices is a pretty sick business. But it's been a quite popular one.
I'll be honest. The entire patent system is problematic in my view. It assumes a kind of individualism and separated genius I just don't believe in. And so, I hope actions like this one by Indian leaders might eventually lead to a rethinking of the whole works.
Hindu gurus and some 200 scientists compiled the list from 16 ancient texts to prevent yoga teachers in the United States and Europe from patenting established poses as their own."
Last year, I wrote a post about the lawsuits of hot yoga businessman Bikram against other yoga teachers using similar poses/sequences to the ones his studios off. In that post, I wrote the following:
I find lawsuits of this nature, involving attempts to control the spread of religious/spiritual practices and teachings, quite troubling. Finding the line between an individual or organization's new and original work, and the historical underpinnings of that work is rarely an easy task. In addition, the whole infusion of monetary settlements, patent rights, and proprietary controls, while seemingly a correct response in a capitalist society, creates a shift away from basic protections of religious/spiritual teachers and institutions, and towards a corporate re-culturing.
The decision to patent yoga poses is a direct response to the actions of people like Bikram. It's also an intelligent counter-use of a capital tool in my opinion. This isn't the first time India has gone this route. Some of you might recall that the neem tree was under threat for decades, until multiple court cases led to the revoking of patents in 2005. Biopiracy continues to be a major threat across the globe, however, as are other aspects of the modern colonialism, which is what the actions of folks like Bikram should rightly be called.
Trying to claim ownership over ancient spiritual practices is a pretty sick business. But it's been a quite popular one.
In the United States alone, the patent authorities have issued more than 130 yoga-related patents, 150 copyrights and 2,300 trademarks related to the ancient practice.
I'll be honest. The entire patent system is problematic in my view. It assumes a kind of individualism and separated genius I just don't believe in. And so, I hope actions like this one by Indian leaders might eventually lead to a rethinking of the whole works.
Saturday, April 28, 2012
Zen in Flux
At Zen Center this morning, our lay training group met to discuss what the purpose and focus of our group should be. It's been about two and half years since this experiment began, and although some things have changed, I really think the heart of our work has been to unearth models for doing/embodying Zen practice as lay people in the 21st century.
Given that the forms and many of the emphasized teachings we inherited from our Japanese ancestors were designed with monastics in mind, this has been kind of a koan for our sangha. None of us are quite sure what it is that this group is doing together. We are filled with questions about Right Action, Right Livelihood, Right Effort, and the rest of the Eightfold Path. We are often challenged by what "commitment" means when everyone is living diverse lives, with a diverse set of issues and needs. We aren't even sure what the word "training" means in a lay context.
I know this is also going on all over the Buddhist world these days. Indeed, there seems to be a lot of flux in general in our world right now. Perhaps it's just that the truth of never ending change is simply more manifest - literally in our faces. However, something about the speed of flux feels - on a deep level - different from even the recent past.
Anyway, I want to offer you all some of what we are calling the "purpose points" for our Lay Training Group. These are things we came up with this morning, but I see them as the fruit of decades worth of individual and collective practice. Everyone in the group has been a Zen student for a decade or more, which makes it all the more rich in my view.
At the same time, I'd say we are mucking around in a semi-dark cave. Grounded enough that we are able to hang with uncertainty. But also aware of the fact that in some ways, we don't know any more than a total beginner.
Here are some of the highlight "Purpose points," in no particular order.
1. Balance – Structure/open inquiry
2. Shared leadership of larger community
3. Focus on practice in daily life, sharing/exploring how to do "lay practice"
4. Embodying active listening
5. Intimacy
6. Repentance to each other
7. Community/connection/friendship
8. Ritual and organized dharma study
If anyone out there has experienced similar group processes in their spiritual community, I'd love to hear from you in the comments section. And of course, all comments are welcome, regardless of whether you have similar experiences or not.
Given that the forms and many of the emphasized teachings we inherited from our Japanese ancestors were designed with monastics in mind, this has been kind of a koan for our sangha. None of us are quite sure what it is that this group is doing together. We are filled with questions about Right Action, Right Livelihood, Right Effort, and the rest of the Eightfold Path. We are often challenged by what "commitment" means when everyone is living diverse lives, with a diverse set of issues and needs. We aren't even sure what the word "training" means in a lay context.
I know this is also going on all over the Buddhist world these days. Indeed, there seems to be a lot of flux in general in our world right now. Perhaps it's just that the truth of never ending change is simply more manifest - literally in our faces. However, something about the speed of flux feels - on a deep level - different from even the recent past.
Anyway, I want to offer you all some of what we are calling the "purpose points" for our Lay Training Group. These are things we came up with this morning, but I see them as the fruit of decades worth of individual and collective practice. Everyone in the group has been a Zen student for a decade or more, which makes it all the more rich in my view.
At the same time, I'd say we are mucking around in a semi-dark cave. Grounded enough that we are able to hang with uncertainty. But also aware of the fact that in some ways, we don't know any more than a total beginner.
Here are some of the highlight "Purpose points," in no particular order.
1. Balance – Structure/open inquiry
2. Shared leadership of larger community
3. Focus on practice in daily life, sharing/exploring how to do "lay practice"
4. Embodying active listening
5. Intimacy
6. Repentance to each other
7. Community/connection/friendship
8. Ritual and organized dharma study
If anyone out there has experienced similar group processes in their spiritual community, I'd love to hear from you in the comments section. And of course, all comments are welcome, regardless of whether you have similar experiences or not.
Sunday, April 22, 2012
Anders Breivik Practices Meditation Too!
Perhaps you have heard that Anders Breivik, the xenophobic terrorist who murdered 77 people in Norway last summer, practiced meditation. While some out there might be temped to spin this story by suggesting that what he was doing was not meditation, I'm not inclined to do so. Given the kinds of horrorshow decisions made by Buddhist practitioners over the centuries, the fact that a mass murderer used a meditation practice as a method of detachment to prepare himself to kill isn't all that surprising.
Here are a few comments from Bodhipaksa's blog:
I'd go further than this. Even with the ethical framework of the Buddhist precepts, and other teachings, there is still no guarantee that someone will "a better person." That isn't to say that the ethical teachings aren't helpful. From what I have seen and experienced, they can be life changers. But there really is no guarantee. Just ask anyone who has been in a sangha devastated by severe teacher misconduct.
At the same time, a story like Breivik's does raise many of the questions that come up with the secularization of spiritual practices like meditation. In particular for me, there is the struggle people have to let go of the view that something like meditation is a cure all. That even those who enter secular programs offering meditation somehow have picked up stories about enlightened figures, or have heard about people who supposedly cured major illnesses solely through meditation practices. And in the back of their minds, they think "that could be me too!"
I actually believe that a steady meditation practice can greatly benefit a person who has a major illness, but given all the causes and conditions present, it's never the meditation alone. And even old Soto Zen dogs like Dogen, who focused on meditation practice, didn't say that meditation is the only thing needed to become enlightened.
And so, what Anders Breivik did was take a practice and do it in isolation to meet his own ends. It's possible that he even technically followed the traditional instructions for said practice. (Learning to detach from the swings of emotional disturbances is part of Buddhist practice after all.) It could be said that while there's no guarantee that someone will become a more ethical person by practicing within a complete Buddhist framework, it's unlikely that someone who is otherwise living a destructive life will pull out of that through meditation alone.
Here are a few comments from Bodhipaksa's blog:
Traditionally, meditation is only one part of the spiritual path, and it’s accompanied with an ethical code that strongly emphasizes non-harm. Stripped of this traditional context, there’s no guarantee that meditation alone will make someone a better person.
It’s also possible to practice meditation in an unbalanced way that results in an unhealthy form of emotional detachment and a kind of emotional deadening. Sangharakshita, my own teacher, has mentioned seeing some early western practitioners of the Burmese Satipatthana Method becoming very detached from their emotions and from their physical experience. This seems to have arisen from their having misunderstood the nature of the meditation practices they’d undertaken (or perhaps they had a bad teacher or teachers).
I'd go further than this. Even with the ethical framework of the Buddhist precepts, and other teachings, there is still no guarantee that someone will "a better person." That isn't to say that the ethical teachings aren't helpful. From what I have seen and experienced, they can be life changers. But there really is no guarantee. Just ask anyone who has been in a sangha devastated by severe teacher misconduct.
At the same time, a story like Breivik's does raise many of the questions that come up with the secularization of spiritual practices like meditation. In particular for me, there is the struggle people have to let go of the view that something like meditation is a cure all. That even those who enter secular programs offering meditation somehow have picked up stories about enlightened figures, or have heard about people who supposedly cured major illnesses solely through meditation practices. And in the back of their minds, they think "that could be me too!"
I actually believe that a steady meditation practice can greatly benefit a person who has a major illness, but given all the causes and conditions present, it's never the meditation alone. And even old Soto Zen dogs like Dogen, who focused on meditation practice, didn't say that meditation is the only thing needed to become enlightened.
And so, what Anders Breivik did was take a practice and do it in isolation to meet his own ends. It's possible that he even technically followed the traditional instructions for said practice. (Learning to detach from the swings of emotional disturbances is part of Buddhist practice after all.) It could be said that while there's no guarantee that someone will become a more ethical person by practicing within a complete Buddhist framework, it's unlikely that someone who is otherwise living a destructive life will pull out of that through meditation alone.
Monday, April 16, 2012
Yoga Isn't Changing American Society
how can we truly be surprised that “yoga”, as it has been packaged and sold in the West has not made much of difference in the way things work or rather don’t work in America, at least within the confines of the “system“? Yoga is still very much a white person’s extra curricular endeavor in America. Or something that occasionally happens at The White House. Or something people do on Comcast ON-DEMAND. All this yoga, and we’re not getting to the root of the problem, which is the healing of our collective relationship to Mother Earth.
Holistic healing is still very much a luxury in this country, with a few exceptions. It costs a lot of money to choose natural, homeopathic healing and food in this country, which is part of why everything is upside down and backwards. The easiest way to be healthy is to live simply and in accordance with the principals of Nature.
Those are the words of Holly Westergren, who used to run the wild ride of a blog Namaste, Bitches. I had something of a love/hate relationship with her blog, mostly because I could never decide whether she was cutting through the bullshit, or simply being a different flavor of yoga snob. Regardless, I love the flavor of her offering above, although I also found myself wanting to write a response to it as well.
Let's start with the first sentence. For most of its history, yoga was the practice of an elite few. The major teachings were kept secret, and the masses were kept away. In all the reading I have done, I have yet to find anything close to a social change ethic, or guidelines for a just society, in the teachings. While sutras in the Buddhist Pali Canon regularly talk of social relations, community structures, and the like, yoga teachings are primarily - from what I have seen - focused on individuals.
In that sense, it makes a lot of sense that "yoga has not made much of a difference" in the oppressive structures of American society. It hasn't really in India either, despite several thousand years of existence there. This doesn't dismiss the impact yoga has had on the lives of countless individuals. That can't be taken away from anyone. But yoga as a catalyst for social change hasn't been a very common theme.
"All this yoga, and we’re not getting to the root of the problem, which is the healing of our collective relationship to Mother Earth." Right. Exactly. In fact, I would argue that the Earth has been cut out of the vast majority of our religious and spiritual practices. Or has been added in like a condiment through fluffy songs, naive appeals, and heady rhetoric.
The thing is, how can those of us in the Global North countries heal that deep disconnection with the planet when we have done next to everything to separate our physical selves from it? Urban dwellers walking on concrete, driving cars, living in houses with every last crack closed off, doing our spiritual practices in pristine spaces equally closed off? Given how our economy has become structured, the bulk of rural dwellers aren't that much better off. Driving long distances into sealed off workplaces and then returning home near or after dark, only to wake up and do it all again the next day.
I'm not terribly impressed with the ecology inside of cars. Or modern buildings.
Lately, I have had fantasies of taking jackhammers to sidewalks, streets, and paved over inner city parks. Efficiency and profit are terrible mistresses, but frankly we've given ourselves over to them, forgetting our vows to the one we have been married to all along.
As a child, I remember playing in the lilac bushes that surrounded the yard of our house. Drinking in the aroma every spring; taking refugee in the canopy every summer. That was the love that ushers forth from interdependence.
It's always there, but so often we don't see it, feel it, at all. It's as if all those yoga postures and rounds of meditation haven't broken down the damn of disassociation. There are cracks all over the place though, to the point where perhaps I will witness the flood in my lifetime.
We can't, and really shouldn't want, to go back in time to what romantically might be called "simpler times." But we must bring forward the wisdom of those days, to the point where it doesn't matter if someone is doing yoga, or Zen, or praying to God.
Getting to the root really is about roots. And soil. And stones. And water.
Tuesday, April 10, 2012
Marketing the Self
Genju, over at 108 Zen Books, has a post about experiences at a recent mindfulness conference she attended. The following stood out for me:
in various encounters, the rumble of territorial markings became audible. Well surely I couldn’t have filtered out the human tendency to want, to crave, to feel unsafe and therefore to bare fangs, set boundaries, and draw lines. Apparently, I did. I do. This is where the practice of simply noting is a good one; it helps negotiate through the conversations that circle the marketing of the self and poorly masked rhetorical questions. I mean noting that in myself as well because certainly there were many, many times when I caught myself falling into being the product rather than the person.
Marketing of the self. Aren't we taught to do that pretty early on in life? You gotta stand out or you'll be forgotten, right? You better promote or you will never be successful, right?
I believe there is a double bind around all of this in modern societies. The human tendency to self cherish is the main dish. Humans have been eating it, probably since the beginning of our species. In addition to the main dish is a set of side dishes called consumerism, capitalism, and commodification. Ever seductive, they add endless flavors and textures onto the main dish. I suppose it might be the case that plain old self cherishing gets kind of dull after awhile. It's so much more exciting to be the hot, new product on the block. Or the respected, reliable old one.
The pressure to be a product is damn strong, so much so that even spiritual teachers are falling for it in droves. Being a person with some wisdom mixed with a bag full of delusion doesn't feel good enough. Being a person who takes a shit and can't quite wipe it all clean isn't sexy enough. Being a person who is articulate one minute, and has nothing helpful to say the next just doesn't cut it. And so, we end up with teachers with trademarks at the end of their names. Teachers who spew endless amounts of flowery, high fullutent language. Teachers who market themselves as healers, and then end up abusing the hell out of anyone who gets close to them.
It is any wonder that so many of us are so confused in this life?
Some people get really irritated with me when I start talking about systems and collective conditions. They say things like "Zen practice is about you. Focus on yourself and stop pointing the finger at others." But this isn't about simple judgment. This isn't about damning those trademarked teachers to hell. It's about cultivating an awareness of the larger patterns that are influencing our thinking and behavior. About seeing much of what we see as "normal" isn't, and that to the extent that we continue mindlessly eating it, we'll be used and controlled by it.
As Genju points out, simply noting that this is occurring is a major step towards breaking the pattern. Every time you see through the story, it's influence on you becomes weaker. What I am suggesting here, though, is that we need to recognize the main dish, and also the side dishes as well. They all play a role in keeping each of us oppressed.
We need to re-learn the sources of true nourishment. And the first step is simply seeing how so much around us is not that. How so much in our minds is not that.
Tuesday, April 3, 2012
Embracing Change
I seem to be in the middle of giving birth to a vision. It's built upon the merger of my spiritual practices and the social activism and community service work I have long been involved in.
Last week, I shared the fundraising campaign I am doing to support my current work in the community. Since then, I have found myself envisioning something bigger. Something that isn't quite formed yet, but feels vital and alive.
Today, I started a new page on Facebook that I hope will become a digital community for people interested in doing social change work in new, more creative ways than simply working for non-profits or volunteering in their off hours.
Here is the link to the new community page. If you are on Facebook, and are interested in seeing what unfolds, I invite you to like the page, comment on posts, and add your own. Furthermore, share it with your friends and family as well.
*Image is Frida Kahlo's The Love Embrace of the Universe, the Earth (Mexico), Diego, Me, and Senor Xolotl. 1949.
Last week, I shared the fundraising campaign I am doing to support my current work in the community. Since then, I have found myself envisioning something bigger. Something that isn't quite formed yet, but feels vital and alive.
Today, I started a new page on Facebook that I hope will become a digital community for people interested in doing social change work in new, more creative ways than simply working for non-profits or volunteering in their off hours.
Are you driven by social justice? Passionate about the health of the planet? Has your spiritual path led you to community service or activist work? Do you want to move beyond the practices and constraints of the 9-5 workplace?
If you answered "YES" to any of these questions, then the Community Changemaker Collective is a place for you. Here, you'll find like-minded people decided making their communities better places to live. You'll find writings, weblinks, and other resources to inspire you. You'll also find discussion, story sharing, and support.
Join the revolution! Together, we can build a better world, one community at a time.
Here is the link to the new community page. If you are on Facebook, and are interested in seeing what unfolds, I invite you to like the page, comment on posts, and add your own. Furthermore, share it with your friends and family as well.
*Image is Frida Kahlo's The Love Embrace of the Universe, the Earth (Mexico), Diego, Me, and Senor Xolotl. 1949.
Wednesday, March 28, 2012
Will Humans Disappear in 100 years?
According to the Buddhist tradition there is no birth and no death. After extinction things will appear in other forms, so you have to breathe very deeply in order to acknowledge the fact that we humans may disappear in just 100 years on earth. You have to learn how to accept that hard fact. You should not be overwhelmed by despair. The solution is to learn how to touch eternity in the present moment. We have been talking about the environment as if it is something different from us, but we are the environment. The non-human elements are our environment, but we are the environment of non-human elements, so we are one with the environment. We are the environment. We are the earth and the earth has the capacity to restore balance and sometimes many species have to disappear for the balance restored.You might think "That 100 years statement is just alarmism." And part of me agrees with you. And yet, the rest of me says "We're far past the time for alarms." We had a warm winter here in Minnesota. Extremely warm. And dry. It barely felt like winter. The day I was born, the temperature was -20 degrees F. This year on my birthday, it was 53 degrees F. Now, one year doesn't mean much of anything in the grand scheme. I have no idea what the whole planetary story is, nor what things will look like in 20 or 30 years - let alone 100. While Thay says that we shouldn't be overwhelmed with despair, we have to feel it. Have to let it swell up within us, and come forth from us. Again and again. Because something IS off. I deeply know that something isn't right with the world. In fact, it seems to me that only through that grief, that despair, that sense that we might all be gone someday soon - only through all of that came we come to touch the eternal Thay speaks of. Our buddhanature. That which is beyond destructive pipelines, melting ice caps, and diseased body/minds. It's not easy work. Most of us would rather suppress these thoughts, or get lost in righteous anger. But I believe the world is calling us to dive deeply now, and open ourselves widely. May more of us do so.
Sunday, March 25, 2012
Microfinancing a Community Change Maker Revolution
These are challenging times economically. With official unemployment rates hovering around 8% in both the U.S. and Canada, and millions more either unaccounted for, or severely underemployed, struggling to make ends meet is becoming more the norm. More and more, the promise of getting a college education and then moving up the corporate ladder is disappearing. Not only is it so much less possible in this age of de-unionization and regular corporate layoffs, but for many people, myself including, it's simply not the story of a fulfilling life.
My entire adult life has been dedicated to being a community leader through grassroots service and organizational development. When given the choice between making more money and potentially making the world a better place, I always have chosen the latter. I live my life by the motto "Serve locally; transform the world!," believing that it is both easier to have a deep impact in one's own community, but also that those benefits have ripple effects across the planet. And given how consumerism and privatization have eroded the majority of our communities, there is really no shortage of opportunities to serve locally.
While it may seem like things are dire, the current economic crisis is also an amazing opportunity to reassess how it is that we work and live together. To challenge the stories we have about what is valuable and what isn't. And to learn to come together in renewed, more interconnected ways.
Having spent most of my adult working life employed in various non-profits, I have come to recognize the benefits, as well as the limitations of such work. In some cases, they are the same. Getting a steady paycheck, for example, is often both a blessing and a curse. It's a curse because it can hinder a person's ability to take proper risks and do the right thing for others. What often comes first, at least to some extent, is personal job retention and/or maintaining the reputation of the organization one works for.
And so, a few days ago, I started a month long fundraising campaign. It is based upon the idea of being an independent community re-development worker. Instead of being tied to a single social service agency or non-profit organization, I have been freely investing time in three different communities that I am passionate about. It is an experiment in giving that I hope will inspire others.
I am seeking your help to continue to do this work. If any of what I have written here has inspired you, or caused you to pause and reconsider some aspect of your life, please consider donating to my campaign and/or spreading the information about it to others. The beauty of microfinancing is that no one person or organization needs to foot the bulk of the bill. Just as we are all naturally interconnected through space and time, through mircofinancing, the work we are all doing becomes a more visible demonstration of that interconnectedness.
The times are calling for us to re-place volunteering and community service back in the center. To cease seeing helping others and giving back as something some people do to fill in their time after work, or on the weekends. Please join me, and spread the word, as we together create a new revolution.
My entire adult life has been dedicated to being a community leader through grassroots service and organizational development. When given the choice between making more money and potentially making the world a better place, I always have chosen the latter. I live my life by the motto "Serve locally; transform the world!," believing that it is both easier to have a deep impact in one's own community, but also that those benefits have ripple effects across the planet. And given how consumerism and privatization have eroded the majority of our communities, there is really no shortage of opportunities to serve locally.
While it may seem like things are dire, the current economic crisis is also an amazing opportunity to reassess how it is that we work and live together. To challenge the stories we have about what is valuable and what isn't. And to learn to come together in renewed, more interconnected ways.
Having spent most of my adult working life employed in various non-profits, I have come to recognize the benefits, as well as the limitations of such work. In some cases, they are the same. Getting a steady paycheck, for example, is often both a blessing and a curse. It's a curse because it can hinder a person's ability to take proper risks and do the right thing for others. What often comes first, at least to some extent, is personal job retention and/or maintaining the reputation of the organization one works for.
And so, a few days ago, I started a month long fundraising campaign. It is based upon the idea of being an independent community re-development worker. Instead of being tied to a single social service agency or non-profit organization, I have been freely investing time in three different communities that I am passionate about. It is an experiment in giving that I hope will inspire others.
I am seeking your help to continue to do this work. If any of what I have written here has inspired you, or caused you to pause and reconsider some aspect of your life, please consider donating to my campaign and/or spreading the information about it to others. The beauty of microfinancing is that no one person or organization needs to foot the bulk of the bill. Just as we are all naturally interconnected through space and time, through mircofinancing, the work we are all doing becomes a more visible demonstration of that interconnectedness.
The times are calling for us to re-place volunteering and community service back in the center. To cease seeing helping others and giving back as something some people do to fill in their time after work, or on the weekends. Please join me, and spread the word, as we together create a new revolution.
Tuesday, March 20, 2012
Cold Stone Zen
Two retreats ago there was a woman who’s husband had just died, and we all either knew them, or one or two people knew, but it was very clear. And what was so interesting is it became this beautiful time together, because she sobbed through almost every day. She ended up sitting behind me a lot, and I had a moment where my impulse, I could feel her so profoundly because we were still, and I had this moment where I just wanted to touch her, and I had to go through all my rules about: “am I allowed to reach out and touch her in a retreat center, blah, blah, blah,” and then … I realized, “Please.” And I reached out and touched her because it’s my human impulse, and she’ll let me know if she doesn’t want that. And I probably did that three times during the week. And at the end of the retreat she said, “Oh my God, thank God, you touched me. I needed contact, I’m in a freefall.”
This passage was part of a fascinating two part panel discussion on Buddhist practice, trauma, the body, healing, and several other topics. Over and over again, the participants bring up challenges they have faced, and questions they have about the ways in which convert Buddhist practice has been set up here in North America. I encourage folks to read it, and I may take up a few other sections of the discussion in future posts.
Back to the story above. I don't know about other branches of Buddhism, but there's a lot of talk about form and the role of a strong "container" amongst Zen folks. This is especially true in retreat contexts, but even during daily services, attention to precise details, from bowing to offering incense, are emphasized. What's important to note is that that attention is directed towards doing things in a certain way. Not really clinging to rules, but certainly maintaining a particular, shared direction.
Chanting. Bowing. Walking. Maintaining silence. Forms for eating meals. All have particular instructions, and everyone involved aims in the direction of embodying those instructions as best they can.
There's a lot of beauty to this. Being in the middle of a group of 60 adults all bowing at the same time in the same basic way can be life affirming. Listening to an even larger group, including children, chanting the precepts together - which we did at our sangha this past Sunday - is often quite exquisite.
And yet, the story above demonstrates something of an absence I sometimes feel. The lack of touch, especially during retreats, is one thing. However, overall, touch or not, I sometimes wonder where the warmth is.
A few years ago, I essentially stopped doing meditation retreats at my zen center. For awhile, I really struggled with the resistance, thinking it was just laziness, or fear. And perhaps some of both of those are true. However, even when I first started developing the resistance, I knew it was more than that.
Do you know the story of the monk whose hut was set on fire?
What I have often felt in Zen meditation retreat is similar to that monk, only it's magnified throughout the entire group. With our current teacher, this has been less so, but somehow the combination of the people attracted + the forms themselves, seems to bring out that cold rock in winter feeling.
One of my dharma sisters has been talking a lot about body practice recently. She's gotten interested in Reggie Ray's work, and since I, too, have been interested in body-mind connections, I have listened closely to what she's said. And I think I hear that similar voice behind her words. The one that's saying "Something is missing."
The thing is, it would be really easy to suggest that this voice is just longing and desire. Coming from a place of dis-ease. I do not doubt for a moment that some of it is. But not all of it. Perhaps not even the majority of it.
Something I learned towards the end of my yoga teacher training were some simple massage techniques to apply in classes. Actually, it might be more accurate to say massage coupled with posture adjustments. The thing that stood out for me in practicing these on classmates was the ways in which, when I let go of trying to "do it right," there was a subtle exchange of what I'd call wisdom that happened. It didn't need words. In truth, that same exchange happened when I was fumbling around, or my classmate was fumbling around, trying to get it right. It's just that the depth wasn't there in those cases.
Is there a gender component to all of this?
The two women in the retreat story shared something. It was beyond words. Sure, it wasn't part of the "retreat plan," but it does seem to me to be part of the awakening plan. Especially for those of us living in the everyday world, dealing with all the challenges of a lay life.
Your thoughts?
This passage was part of a fascinating two part panel discussion on Buddhist practice, trauma, the body, healing, and several other topics. Over and over again, the participants bring up challenges they have faced, and questions they have about the ways in which convert Buddhist practice has been set up here in North America. I encourage folks to read it, and I may take up a few other sections of the discussion in future posts.
Back to the story above. I don't know about other branches of Buddhism, but there's a lot of talk about form and the role of a strong "container" amongst Zen folks. This is especially true in retreat contexts, but even during daily services, attention to precise details, from bowing to offering incense, are emphasized. What's important to note is that that attention is directed towards doing things in a certain way. Not really clinging to rules, but certainly maintaining a particular, shared direction.
Chanting. Bowing. Walking. Maintaining silence. Forms for eating meals. All have particular instructions, and everyone involved aims in the direction of embodying those instructions as best they can.
There's a lot of beauty to this. Being in the middle of a group of 60 adults all bowing at the same time in the same basic way can be life affirming. Listening to an even larger group, including children, chanting the precepts together - which we did at our sangha this past Sunday - is often quite exquisite.
And yet, the story above demonstrates something of an absence I sometimes feel. The lack of touch, especially during retreats, is one thing. However, overall, touch or not, I sometimes wonder where the warmth is.
A few years ago, I essentially stopped doing meditation retreats at my zen center. For awhile, I really struggled with the resistance, thinking it was just laziness, or fear. And perhaps some of both of those are true. However, even when I first started developing the resistance, I knew it was more than that.
Do you know the story of the monk whose hut was set on fire?
There was an old woman in China who had supported a monk for over twenty years. She had built a little hut for him and fed him while he was meditating. Finally she wondered just what progress he had made in all this time.
To find out, she obtained the help of a girl rich in desire. "Go and embrace him," she told her, "and then ask him suddenly: 'What now?'"
The girl called upon the monk and without much ado caressed him, asking him what he was going to do about it.
"An old tree grows on a cold rock in winter," replied the monk somewhat poetically. "Nowhere is there any warmth."
The girl returned and related what he had said.
"To think I fed that fellow for twenty years!" exclaimed the old woman in anger. "He showed no consideration for your needs, no disposition to explain your condition. He need not have responded to passion, but at least he should have evidenced some compassion."
She at once went to the hut of the monk and burned it down.
What I have often felt in Zen meditation retreat is similar to that monk, only it's magnified throughout the entire group. With our current teacher, this has been less so, but somehow the combination of the people attracted + the forms themselves, seems to bring out that cold rock in winter feeling.
One of my dharma sisters has been talking a lot about body practice recently. She's gotten interested in Reggie Ray's work, and since I, too, have been interested in body-mind connections, I have listened closely to what she's said. And I think I hear that similar voice behind her words. The one that's saying "Something is missing."
The thing is, it would be really easy to suggest that this voice is just longing and desire. Coming from a place of dis-ease. I do not doubt for a moment that some of it is. But not all of it. Perhaps not even the majority of it.
Something I learned towards the end of my yoga teacher training were some simple massage techniques to apply in classes. Actually, it might be more accurate to say massage coupled with posture adjustments. The thing that stood out for me in practicing these on classmates was the ways in which, when I let go of trying to "do it right," there was a subtle exchange of what I'd call wisdom that happened. It didn't need words. In truth, that same exchange happened when I was fumbling around, or my classmate was fumbling around, trying to get it right. It's just that the depth wasn't there in those cases.
Is there a gender component to all of this?
The two women in the retreat story shared something. It was beyond words. Sure, it wasn't part of the "retreat plan," but it does seem to me to be part of the awakening plan. Especially for those of us living in the everyday world, dealing with all the challenges of a lay life.
Your thoughts?
Friday, March 16, 2012
No Money in the West: Buddist Blogging, Purity, and Capitalism's Warped Narrative
As money, capitalism, and spiritual practice often seem to be on my mind, I found this post by Zen teacher James Ford to be comment-worthy. It was written in response to a spirited discussion held on the blog No Zen in the West about blogging about Zen and making money, which I participated in.
James writes:
Here is my response.
James, I don't disagree with any of the major points you make. In fact, the example you brought up about the dharma student and his teachers makes me cringe as well.
However, what I saw and participated over at the No Zen blog was not a purity battle. It was a sincere questioning of how to operate as a committed spiritual practitioner in a capitalist environment. I have long been troubled by the myriad of ways in which capitalism has impacted the Western dharma world. It's something I have spent the past decade wrestling with, and this blog is littered with commentaries attempting, from various angles, to unearth and challenge the assumptions that have bled into our practice from our capitalist-dominated society. Like the idea that dana is solely or mostly about giving money. Or the ways in which many Zen communities have made it next to impossible for working class and poor people to be full participants.
The fact that the blog authors of No Zen offered a forum to discuss their decision to join or not join Patheos, rather than simply made a statement of disdain for advertising, should be applauded. Furthermore, as a fellow Buddhist blogger, I appreciated that they raised the challenges of blogging and sustaining one's self financially in public. More of us need to do so. It's helpful for readers to see, and also supportive for fellow writers.
James, something in your post feels dismissive to me. Perhaps I am overly sensitive to money issues these days. At the same time, it's easy for middle and upper class practitioners, who aren't struggling financially, to dismiss debates like the one on No Zen as purity arguments. It reminds me of the manner in which many Democrats love to dismiss Greens, Socialists, and others as stuck on purity. Sometimes they are right, but often it is they who are the stuck ones. Stuck on their own relative power and privilege.
Capitalism may be empty of inherent nature, but in the relative world, it's making a major mess of everything. Money is not inherently evil, but the structures and stories we have built around it are producing a hell of a lot of suffering.
You wrote that "Paying attention to making a living is an obligation." I'd argue that it's more apt to say "Pay close attention to HOW you make a living." In that how is not a call to dismiss money and claim that one is pure because of doing so. It's about overturning the stones, and discerning if that how is sufficiently beneficial to the world or not. Or at least has a good potential to be.
Perhaps you considered all of this before moving to Patheos and decided that was worth it. My decision was different.
Neither of us chose to be very public about what we were pondering though, whereas the guys at No Zen did. Again, I thank them. If I had thought to do so, I would have done something similar on my blog.
Conversations about money and class in Zen are often fraught with bullshit posturing and hand wringing. It strikes me that you got a whiff of that in some of the comments over at No Zen, and it brought up numerous memories of similar discussions you've witnessed. While I am defending No Zen and the discussion as a whole, I also got a whiff of purity from a few of those comments.
However, they do not reflect the whole, not even close. And what you wrote reminded me of so many discussions and debates I have had about money and dharma - in my own sangha and online - where working class and poor folks were marginalized or left out in the cold entirely.
It's time for all of this to become more open, transparent, and frankly risky. Too often, we Zennies speak of liberation, but fail to risk the whole nine yards of ourselves. To place the cultures and social norms we have built ourselves out of on the fire, and let it all be burned straight through if necessarily through deep inquiry.
What's most creepy to me is how willingly many Zen practitioners unquestioningly uphold - and even enforce - middle class, capitalist norms, both as individuals and as communities of individuals. Something has got to give.
In closing, I'll offer one idea I just had. A Buddhist bloggers co-operative. It's been floated before, but here it is again. You get bloggers together under a collective platform, and build a shared fundraising mechanism or set of mechanisms that raise money and other support for writers in a manner that perhaps subverts capitalist norms. Or at least undercuts some of the bite.
The point of offering the co-op idea is to suggest that things can be different. That human minds and hearts can creatively address the challenges we face. Purity/evil. Democrats/Republicans. Capitalism/socialism. All those binaries are tired and wasteful. Dead ends. Lacking creativity. And in the end, clinging to either end of them really does little to solve the myriad of challenges more people are facing as the worlds' major economies are crumbling.
I have said enough. It's your turn. Go at it.
James writes:
Over at one of the blogs I like to read there’s some reflecting going on about whether to move to a host that will provide some support but who also have advertising. Sort of like what you see to the right of this posting…
The writers of that blog solicited comments from readers.
Of those who chose to respond it appears the majority are disdainful of going with advertising.
The premise seems to be that there should be no connection between the Dharma and money.
Reminds me of something I read a few years back where this perennial theme was once again being hashed out. The thing I recall was how one commentator said his teacher never took money for teaching. And then added how he had no idea how his teacher supported himself. The writer seemed to be suggesting this not knowing was a good thing. Pure.
Personally I found it creepy.
I think it important to make sure everyone has access to the Dharma.
I think there is nothing inherently unclean or unhealthy or impure about money.
In fact if one has any obligations in this world, family, paying attention to making a living is an obligation.
Here is my response.
James, I don't disagree with any of the major points you make. In fact, the example you brought up about the dharma student and his teachers makes me cringe as well.
However, what I saw and participated over at the No Zen blog was not a purity battle. It was a sincere questioning of how to operate as a committed spiritual practitioner in a capitalist environment. I have long been troubled by the myriad of ways in which capitalism has impacted the Western dharma world. It's something I have spent the past decade wrestling with, and this blog is littered with commentaries attempting, from various angles, to unearth and challenge the assumptions that have bled into our practice from our capitalist-dominated society. Like the idea that dana is solely or mostly about giving money. Or the ways in which many Zen communities have made it next to impossible for working class and poor people to be full participants.
The fact that the blog authors of No Zen offered a forum to discuss their decision to join or not join Patheos, rather than simply made a statement of disdain for advertising, should be applauded. Furthermore, as a fellow Buddhist blogger, I appreciated that they raised the challenges of blogging and sustaining one's self financially in public. More of us need to do so. It's helpful for readers to see, and also supportive for fellow writers.
James, something in your post feels dismissive to me. Perhaps I am overly sensitive to money issues these days. At the same time, it's easy for middle and upper class practitioners, who aren't struggling financially, to dismiss debates like the one on No Zen as purity arguments. It reminds me of the manner in which many Democrats love to dismiss Greens, Socialists, and others as stuck on purity. Sometimes they are right, but often it is they who are the stuck ones. Stuck on their own relative power and privilege.
Capitalism may be empty of inherent nature, but in the relative world, it's making a major mess of everything. Money is not inherently evil, but the structures and stories we have built around it are producing a hell of a lot of suffering.
You wrote that "Paying attention to making a living is an obligation." I'd argue that it's more apt to say "Pay close attention to HOW you make a living." In that how is not a call to dismiss money and claim that one is pure because of doing so. It's about overturning the stones, and discerning if that how is sufficiently beneficial to the world or not. Or at least has a good potential to be.
Perhaps you considered all of this before moving to Patheos and decided that was worth it. My decision was different.
Neither of us chose to be very public about what we were pondering though, whereas the guys at No Zen did. Again, I thank them. If I had thought to do so, I would have done something similar on my blog.
Conversations about money and class in Zen are often fraught with bullshit posturing and hand wringing. It strikes me that you got a whiff of that in some of the comments over at No Zen, and it brought up numerous memories of similar discussions you've witnessed. While I am defending No Zen and the discussion as a whole, I also got a whiff of purity from a few of those comments.
However, they do not reflect the whole, not even close. And what you wrote reminded me of so many discussions and debates I have had about money and dharma - in my own sangha and online - where working class and poor folks were marginalized or left out in the cold entirely.
It's time for all of this to become more open, transparent, and frankly risky. Too often, we Zennies speak of liberation, but fail to risk the whole nine yards of ourselves. To place the cultures and social norms we have built ourselves out of on the fire, and let it all be burned straight through if necessarily through deep inquiry.
What's most creepy to me is how willingly many Zen practitioners unquestioningly uphold - and even enforce - middle class, capitalist norms, both as individuals and as communities of individuals. Something has got to give.
In closing, I'll offer one idea I just had. A Buddhist bloggers co-operative. It's been floated before, but here it is again. You get bloggers together under a collective platform, and build a shared fundraising mechanism or set of mechanisms that raise money and other support for writers in a manner that perhaps subverts capitalist norms. Or at least undercuts some of the bite.
The point of offering the co-op idea is to suggest that things can be different. That human minds and hearts can creatively address the challenges we face. Purity/evil. Democrats/Republicans. Capitalism/socialism. All those binaries are tired and wasteful. Dead ends. Lacking creativity. And in the end, clinging to either end of them really does little to solve the myriad of challenges more people are facing as the worlds' major economies are crumbling.
I have said enough. It's your turn. Go at it.
Tuesday, March 13, 2012
Social Dukkha - Moving Beyond Individual Buddhist Practice
In honor of three years of writing here at Dangerous Harvests - where did the time go?! - here is a re-post from the early days. Originally published on Friday, May 22, 2009. Comments welcome as always.
Working with people from all over the world, whose ideas and ways of living are often very different from my own, has definitely helped to jar the sense of self I have. In addition, the discussions I have had with these same learners in my classes have shown me as much as anything how constructed our views of the "good life" or "proper life" are. Here's a simple example of that from a recent class.
A woman originally from Somalia is pregnant, which sparked a discussion about family size and also happiness. She was asked by another learner how many children she would like to have. I believe she said "maybe four," although I may be misremembering that number. Another woman, a very joyful Ethiopian woman in her fifties, said "why not more?" She went on to talk about her eight children, and how she loves big families, and would have more children if she could. Recently, her son graduated from college, the first degree in her family I believe, and she's been walking around beaming about his accomplishment, telling anyone who will listen about it.
A few other learners, ethnic Karen from Burma, gasped upon hearing the desire for very large families. One said something to the effect of "three is enough, thank you very much." And there were other expressions from this group about the hard work and difficulties large families create for mothers. Which brought us to economic issues in the U.S. and a short conversation about how expensive it is in the U.S. to have a lot of children. But the woman from Ethiopia didn't stand down - she still felt that there was more joy in a bigger family. I have had other learners in the past, from other nations, express very similar views. Yet, even within groups, as should be expected, there is a fair amount of difference of opinion about this question.
However, despite wide differences of opinion within any group, it can be said that culture and social structures of a given society have an influence on how people think and act in the world. And because of this, I believe there has been a failure on the part of many in the convert western Buddhist world to see beyond individual practice, and individual "enlightenment," as a way to address the suffering of the world.
Dukkha is the Pali term which is usually translated as suffering. It is often viewed as the sense of dissatisfaction or disease a person feels with the world as it is presenting itself in one's life now. Of dukkha, Buddha said that all of us experience it in our lives - many of us so much so that we are consumed by it. And yet, as Buddha himself experienced, there are ways to be liberated from it. In terms of Buddhism, these ways are expressed as The Eightfold Path. (Other spiritual traditions have other methods which I would argue also can be gateways to liberation, but discussing those would lead us off track today.)
Returning to the classroom discussion above, the Ethiopian woman in my class seems have pinned at least some of her happiness in life on having a large family. Although I don't know for certain, it seems that larger families are more common in Ethiopia than they are here in the U.S. When you think of the droughts, famines, wars, and other difficulties that have plagued Ethiopia over at least the past century, it's very understandable that an emphasis on procreation might be promoted not only in individual families, but much more broadly, as a social or cultural value. So, then, since she has a larger family, the woman in my class might be viewed in a positive way by others in her cultural group, and she might internally view herself more positively because she has manifested what has value within the larger group.
Of course, there are also many individual factors that play into this as well. Her family seems to work together well. The children are doing well academically, and unlike other learners I have had in the past, she doesn't come to class with a heavy burden of problems her children are having at home, or at school, or elsewhere. So, it's very much possible that her emphasis on "big families" is as much, if not more, tied to her personal experience than to cultural or social values or constructs.
Yet, I think it's foolish of us, especially if we believe in the view that there is no solid, fixed self or "I," to place all our eggs in the individual basket. Any one person's suffering or joy is a product of a complex uprising of causes and conditions, some of which one might be personally responsible for, but also which include others that are much bigger than any one person.
No one person, no matter how powerful, is responsible for bringing about war for example. Or environmental destruction, or patterns of patriarchy, or racism, or sexism, or heterosexism, or any other number of social ills that infiltrate and effect our lives on a daily basis.
In his excellent book The Great Awakening: A Buddhist Social Theory David Loy spends a lot of time examining these kind of larger patterns. Using the term "social dukkha," he argue that Buddhist teachings: the precepts, emptiness, compassion, and others can be applied to broader social issues as a means to potentially reducing suffering on a larger scale.
Now, he certainly isn't the first to say any of this, nor is he a lone wolf crying in the wilderness, but it strikes me that until there is a critical mass of us speaking and acting in ways that might address these larger scale issues, no amount of individual effort on spiritual practice will be enough to greatly reduce suffering in the world. Maybe if we all took up meditation practices, and stuck with it diligently, there would be some massive change. But I still wonder even then if oppressive social structures would simply fall away, or if, in spite of our efforts, we'd still be facing the problems these structures create. I have a hard time believing that racism, sexism, and heterosexism, would simply vanish as a result of all of us individually, or even as collects of individuals, doing meditation practices. This is not at all to denigrate meditation - I love it - but to suggest that given where we are at on a global scale today, it seems additional, more collective approaches to the dharma are being called for.
Working with people from all over the world, whose ideas and ways of living are often very different from my own, has definitely helped to jar the sense of self I have. In addition, the discussions I have had with these same learners in my classes have shown me as much as anything how constructed our views of the "good life" or "proper life" are. Here's a simple example of that from a recent class.
A woman originally from Somalia is pregnant, which sparked a discussion about family size and also happiness. She was asked by another learner how many children she would like to have. I believe she said "maybe four," although I may be misremembering that number. Another woman, a very joyful Ethiopian woman in her fifties, said "why not more?" She went on to talk about her eight children, and how she loves big families, and would have more children if she could. Recently, her son graduated from college, the first degree in her family I believe, and she's been walking around beaming about his accomplishment, telling anyone who will listen about it.
A few other learners, ethnic Karen from Burma, gasped upon hearing the desire for very large families. One said something to the effect of "three is enough, thank you very much." And there were other expressions from this group about the hard work and difficulties large families create for mothers. Which brought us to economic issues in the U.S. and a short conversation about how expensive it is in the U.S. to have a lot of children. But the woman from Ethiopia didn't stand down - she still felt that there was more joy in a bigger family. I have had other learners in the past, from other nations, express very similar views. Yet, even within groups, as should be expected, there is a fair amount of difference of opinion about this question.
However, despite wide differences of opinion within any group, it can be said that culture and social structures of a given society have an influence on how people think and act in the world. And because of this, I believe there has been a failure on the part of many in the convert western Buddhist world to see beyond individual practice, and individual "enlightenment," as a way to address the suffering of the world.
Dukkha is the Pali term which is usually translated as suffering. It is often viewed as the sense of dissatisfaction or disease a person feels with the world as it is presenting itself in one's life now. Of dukkha, Buddha said that all of us experience it in our lives - many of us so much so that we are consumed by it. And yet, as Buddha himself experienced, there are ways to be liberated from it. In terms of Buddhism, these ways are expressed as The Eightfold Path. (Other spiritual traditions have other methods which I would argue also can be gateways to liberation, but discussing those would lead us off track today.)
Returning to the classroom discussion above, the Ethiopian woman in my class seems have pinned at least some of her happiness in life on having a large family. Although I don't know for certain, it seems that larger families are more common in Ethiopia than they are here in the U.S. When you think of the droughts, famines, wars, and other difficulties that have plagued Ethiopia over at least the past century, it's very understandable that an emphasis on procreation might be promoted not only in individual families, but much more broadly, as a social or cultural value. So, then, since she has a larger family, the woman in my class might be viewed in a positive way by others in her cultural group, and she might internally view herself more positively because she has manifested what has value within the larger group.
Of course, there are also many individual factors that play into this as well. Her family seems to work together well. The children are doing well academically, and unlike other learners I have had in the past, she doesn't come to class with a heavy burden of problems her children are having at home, or at school, or elsewhere. So, it's very much possible that her emphasis on "big families" is as much, if not more, tied to her personal experience than to cultural or social values or constructs.
Yet, I think it's foolish of us, especially if we believe in the view that there is no solid, fixed self or "I," to place all our eggs in the individual basket. Any one person's suffering or joy is a product of a complex uprising of causes and conditions, some of which one might be personally responsible for, but also which include others that are much bigger than any one person.
No one person, no matter how powerful, is responsible for bringing about war for example. Or environmental destruction, or patterns of patriarchy, or racism, or sexism, or heterosexism, or any other number of social ills that infiltrate and effect our lives on a daily basis.
In his excellent book The Great Awakening: A Buddhist Social Theory David Loy spends a lot of time examining these kind of larger patterns. Using the term "social dukkha," he argue that Buddhist teachings: the precepts, emptiness, compassion, and others can be applied to broader social issues as a means to potentially reducing suffering on a larger scale.
Now, he certainly isn't the first to say any of this, nor is he a lone wolf crying in the wilderness, but it strikes me that until there is a critical mass of us speaking and acting in ways that might address these larger scale issues, no amount of individual effort on spiritual practice will be enough to greatly reduce suffering in the world. Maybe if we all took up meditation practices, and stuck with it diligently, there would be some massive change. But I still wonder even then if oppressive social structures would simply fall away, or if, in spite of our efforts, we'd still be facing the problems these structures create. I have a hard time believing that racism, sexism, and heterosexism, would simply vanish as a result of all of us individually, or even as collects of individuals, doing meditation practices. This is not at all to denigrate meditation - I love it - but to suggest that given where we are at on a global scale today, it seems additional, more collective approaches to the dharma are being called for.
Monday, March 12, 2012
A Powerful Nectar
Hello everyone! It's been almost a week since my last post. There have been some exciting developments in my world, including the launching of a new book of essays on yoga in North America. I am fortunate to be one of several talented writers and practitioners in this volume, and hope that you will help spread the word to anyone you think might be interested in reading it.
Please click here for a more in depth write up on the book, as well as a link to our current fundraising campaign.
As for my practice these days, I have been struck lately by the power of perseverance combined with letting go of both attachment to forms, as well as all outcomes.
There is no repeat performance, and no final outcome.
Even if you are doing sitting or walking meditation in the same manner, day after day, it's never exactly the same.
Even when something appears to have proven to be beneficial or not, there is always something new in the next moment and the next.
Some days, I sit still and silent like the ancient ones. Other days, I meditate while moving like the ancient ones.
Perseverance is motivated by something much deeper than any particular form or outcome.
In the realm of the material, the seen world, it's a continual risk taking. For example, throughout much of the time I was writing, I had no idea whether the essay I spoke of above was actually going to make the cut. Writing it was a challenge, and there were many moments when I just wanted to give up, feeling that I wasn't ready to say what I wanted to say.
On the other hand, there is a place inside each of us where there is no such thing as risk. No such thing as succeeding or giving up.
To persevere, you have to touch that house of love, and drink in it's powerful nectar.
Again and again, there is this drinking, and then returning the gift, slightly transformed, to the world.
Please click here for a more in depth write up on the book, as well as a link to our current fundraising campaign.
As for my practice these days, I have been struck lately by the power of perseverance combined with letting go of both attachment to forms, as well as all outcomes.
There is no repeat performance, and no final outcome.
Even if you are doing sitting or walking meditation in the same manner, day after day, it's never exactly the same.
Even when something appears to have proven to be beneficial or not, there is always something new in the next moment and the next.
Some days, I sit still and silent like the ancient ones. Other days, I meditate while moving like the ancient ones.
Perseverance is motivated by something much deeper than any particular form or outcome.
In the realm of the material, the seen world, it's a continual risk taking. For example, throughout much of the time I was writing, I had no idea whether the essay I spoke of above was actually going to make the cut. Writing it was a challenge, and there were many moments when I just wanted to give up, feeling that I wasn't ready to say what I wanted to say.
On the other hand, there is a place inside each of us where there is no such thing as risk. No such thing as succeeding or giving up.
To persevere, you have to touch that house of love, and drink in it's powerful nectar.
Again and again, there is this drinking, and then returning the gift, slightly transformed, to the world.
Tuesday, March 6, 2012
The Seat of Separation: Chairs and the XL Pipeline
What does chronic backpain have to do with the Keystone Xl pipeline? Probably nothing directly, but in a round about way they might be connected.
This is from the current post by yoga teacher J. Brown. I enjoyed the fact that he doesn't offer a list of yoga poses to address chronic back pain - enough of that around already. And as I read, I started thinking about that phrase "no definitive cause." And chairs came up.
Chairs originally were a designation of privilege. Reserved solely for royalty, religious and government leaders. It's only been in the past 5-7 hundred years that chairs have become more commonplace around the world, something that might give us pause.
Consider how much sitting you do in various kinds of chairs everyday. In cars. On buses and trains. In offices. In homes. How often do you sit on the floor? Use your whole body in a whole manner?
In my opinion, the way many of us rely so heavily on chairs is a contributing factor to things like chronic back pain.
However, I want to go further. Think about what chairs do. Among other things, they separate humans from the ground. The earth. Just as those original chairs set the elites apart from everyone else, and created a false sense of superiority, chairs today separate the masses (including the elites) from the planet we live on.
Obviously, chairs are not evil. They are simply an excellent symbol of our current state of affairs.
It's not terribly surprising, for example, that we oil pipeline companies making deals with state governments to trounce the rights of indigenous people. Or that their truck drivers are able to, with a straight face, say things like we have “corporate rights that supersede any other law" as they transport tools and materials that will be used to exploit the earth for profit.
Odds are that the decisions that led to the XL pipeline were almost all made while sitting in chairs inside sterile offices. That's just one of the many manifestations of disconnect and separation present in this situation.
Let's go further. Many people want to change all of this. We are waking up to the fact that the planet has suffered greatly as a result of human greed, hatred, and ignorance. However, too often, we are prone to sitting in chairs and in our heads, trying to come up with ways to challenge the status quo. Our meetings are mostly static events, driven by talking, and controlled by tables, chairs, and squared spaces.
Stopping something like the XL pipeline, and envisioning a new way of living, can't really come from this. Not only this anyway. There must be movement. Must be reconnection. Much be creativity when it comes to how we gather, what we do together, and where we choose to meet.
Today, I feel grief and outrage that this pipeline project is going through. That multinational corporations and the leaders of multiple nations, including the U.S., are so myopic that profits trump everything, including the promises of their ancestors.
It's time to move beyond the seats we are comfortable in. Our pain and suffering does have definitive causes, if only we are willing to look much deeper, and begin responding from that place.
Recent statistics show the number of adults with chronic low back pain is on the rise. Doctors recommend three courses of action: (1) Lifestyle change, (2) Medication or (3) Surgery. When diagnostic testing reveals no definitive cause, treatment is based largely on the patient accurately describing the intensity of pain on a scale from 1 to 10.
This is from the current post by yoga teacher J. Brown. I enjoyed the fact that he doesn't offer a list of yoga poses to address chronic back pain - enough of that around already. And as I read, I started thinking about that phrase "no definitive cause." And chairs came up.
Chairs originally were a designation of privilege. Reserved solely for royalty, religious and government leaders. It's only been in the past 5-7 hundred years that chairs have become more commonplace around the world, something that might give us pause.
Consider how much sitting you do in various kinds of chairs everyday. In cars. On buses and trains. In offices. In homes. How often do you sit on the floor? Use your whole body in a whole manner?
In my opinion, the way many of us rely so heavily on chairs is a contributing factor to things like chronic back pain.
However, I want to go further. Think about what chairs do. Among other things, they separate humans from the ground. The earth. Just as those original chairs set the elites apart from everyone else, and created a false sense of superiority, chairs today separate the masses (including the elites) from the planet we live on.
Obviously, chairs are not evil. They are simply an excellent symbol of our current state of affairs.
It's not terribly surprising, for example, that we oil pipeline companies making deals with state governments to trounce the rights of indigenous people. Or that their truck drivers are able to, with a straight face, say things like we have “corporate rights that supersede any other law" as they transport tools and materials that will be used to exploit the earth for profit.
Odds are that the decisions that led to the XL pipeline were almost all made while sitting in chairs inside sterile offices. That's just one of the many manifestations of disconnect and separation present in this situation.
Let's go further. Many people want to change all of this. We are waking up to the fact that the planet has suffered greatly as a result of human greed, hatred, and ignorance. However, too often, we are prone to sitting in chairs and in our heads, trying to come up with ways to challenge the status quo. Our meetings are mostly static events, driven by talking, and controlled by tables, chairs, and squared spaces.
Stopping something like the XL pipeline, and envisioning a new way of living, can't really come from this. Not only this anyway. There must be movement. Must be reconnection. Much be creativity when it comes to how we gather, what we do together, and where we choose to meet.
Today, I feel grief and outrage that this pipeline project is going through. That multinational corporations and the leaders of multiple nations, including the U.S., are so myopic that profits trump everything, including the promises of their ancestors.
It's time to move beyond the seats we are comfortable in. Our pain and suffering does have definitive causes, if only we are willing to look much deeper, and begin responding from that place.
Sunday, March 4, 2012
Integrations
First off, I would like to share this post that I wrote on one of my other blogs. The nuances of oppression have been on my mind in recent months, as I have engaged in various work within the Occupy movement. The post above is a reflection of on being a man, facing sexism, and recognizing some of the ways in which patriarchal structures damage men - even as we benefit in other ways.
Secondly, if you have some time, please take a listen to this interview. I love the way spiritual practice and social activism are blended here. The call for recognizing and remembering the humanity of those you consider enemies resonates deeply for me.
From the interview description:
In this dialogue, I interview Rose[Sackey-Milligan]about her early years during the Civil Rights Movement and her personal entrance into the African spiritual traditions.
We then discuss the relationship between spirituality and social activism and investigate the gifts and limitations of both spiritual and social activist approaches to change, while advocating for a deeper integration of both. We also explore the deep impacts of racism and race experience in shaping human consciousness.
May you all be well. Enjoy the rest of the weekend!
Monday, February 27, 2012
What Saved Our Ancestors Often Is a Hindrance to Us Now
Suspicious, among other things, is:
"inclined to suspect, esp. inclined to suspect evil; distrustful"
Paying attention to suspicion in my own mind that comes and goes, I'd like to add that it is a desire to pin down, fix, name, and control the unknown.
I have a fairly strong desire for clarity. I want to be able to see through the muck of the world, and live and breathe the truths of my life. Not a terrible thing, in itself. Yet, how much of this clarity seeking is really just trying to solidify what can't be made solid?
Furthermore, how much of this clarity seeking is just creating an artificial division between that which I deem "clear" and that which I deem "unclear"?
Take a simple sour looking look spilling forth from a driver of a car waiting for me to pass on my bicycle. Sometimes, it doesn't take much for my mind to be swamped in worst case scenarios. He's pissed at me. I'm in the way. He probably hates bicyclists.
At the end of the day, the reasons for that look are rarely fully made clear. Even if the guy shouts at me out his window, I don't know the true origin of his anger. In other words, clarity is something usually different than the fixed story I have about it. And whatever it is in a given situation, it's not knowing every last fact and detail about what's happening.
It's likely that this very mind - suspicious mind coupled with a desire for clarity- saved our ancestors from being destroyed by countless numbers of events or predators. however, now it's more likely to be used as a means of standing back from the world. What worked to keep our ancestors alert and clear seeing, now often works to keep us from being fully alive.
Time for some retooling.
"inclined to suspect, esp. inclined to suspect evil; distrustful"
Paying attention to suspicion in my own mind that comes and goes, I'd like to add that it is a desire to pin down, fix, name, and control the unknown.
I have a fairly strong desire for clarity. I want to be able to see through the muck of the world, and live and breathe the truths of my life. Not a terrible thing, in itself. Yet, how much of this clarity seeking is really just trying to solidify what can't be made solid?
Furthermore, how much of this clarity seeking is just creating an artificial division between that which I deem "clear" and that which I deem "unclear"?
Take a simple sour looking look spilling forth from a driver of a car waiting for me to pass on my bicycle. Sometimes, it doesn't take much for my mind to be swamped in worst case scenarios. He's pissed at me. I'm in the way. He probably hates bicyclists.
At the end of the day, the reasons for that look are rarely fully made clear. Even if the guy shouts at me out his window, I don't know the true origin of his anger. In other words, clarity is something usually different than the fixed story I have about it. And whatever it is in a given situation, it's not knowing every last fact and detail about what's happening.
It's likely that this very mind - suspicious mind coupled with a desire for clarity- saved our ancestors from being destroyed by countless numbers of events or predators. however, now it's more likely to be used as a means of standing back from the world. What worked to keep our ancestors alert and clear seeing, now often works to keep us from being fully alive.
Time for some retooling.
Thursday, February 23, 2012
Wild and Liberated
I have a new post about the Occupy movement up on one of my other blogs that might interest some of the readers here. It could have been originally posted here, but I want to revive that blog to offer poetry and other writings which might not fit what's been happening at Dangerous Harvests.
Tuesday, February 21, 2012
Engaged Buddhism and Identity Issues
Over at his blog Notes in Samsara, Mumon has a post that takes up engaged Buddhism and being engaged in one's daily life. In it, he offers the following observation about what commonly falls under the engaged Buddhism banner:
Cause tourism. You know, that's a pretty useful term there. And while I might not fully agree with how much of it is going on amongst Buddhist circles, it's definitely something that happens - far too often.
People running off to poor countries to "save the children." Others starting up organizations that end up being more about helping a small number of individual activists maintain upper middle class lives than they are about truly transforming the world. There are plenty of examples of how "vowing to do good" - one of the pure precepts - goes quite bad.
But I'm not interested in that today. What interests me is the rest of Mumon's statement. Particularly this: "if the issues in which they're engaged are far removed from their own existence."
As someone who has been involved in various social justice oriented work and activism for nearly twenty years now, one thing I have learned is that the majority of social issues that challenge humans - or the planet for that matter - are happening right down the street. Or in the next neighborhood. Or just across town. Or less than an hour or two drive from your doorstep.
When most Americans think of slavery, they think of something happening in direly poor nations far away from them, if they think slavery exists at all. (Plenty believe it's something entirely from the past.) And yet, every year, stories of slavery or near slavery emerge right here in the U.S., often involving highly vulnerable, undocumented immigrants, some of whom were forcibly brought to the U.S. in the first place.
Images of Ethiopia, and other Africa nations, are almost always associated with starvation, and rampant malnutrition.
What about the people in your neighborhood? In 2010, 17.2 million households, 14.5 percent of households (approximately one in seven), were food insecure, the highest number ever recorded in the United States.
One of the challenges of living in materially wealthy nations is that for the most part, there are just enough buffers available to provide middle and upper class folks with "a way out." There are the geographical separations that keep people "away" from those who are struggling, and the places they reside in. There are also a myriad of what I would call masks and band aid props that allow people with some means to remain mostly separate from those who don't. Everything from zoning laws that prohibit groups of unrelated people to share the costs of housing, to homeless shelters that are willing to "help out," but are staffed with people who won't challenge systems of injustice play a role.
One of the main reasons why many well meaning people gravitate towards "cause tourism" is the fundamental failure to recognize the fictions of their identity. Both the individual fictions, and also the broader collective fictions. Western Buddhists focus a lot on those individual fictions - the stories we have about ourselves that cause us so much misery, and which our attachments to limit our ability to express the greatness that each of us is. However, when it comes to really deeply uncovering and interrogating the default collective narratives many us of us simply take as "normal life," a lot of Western Buddhists fall far short.
What is this "one's own position" Mumon speaks of? How much influence upon it has collective social forces played? How much freedom do "I" have to move in a different direction, if such movement would result in more justice, compassion, and liberation?
And that is just dealing with the "I." Mumon mentions in his post, and I have had others in my sangha say similar things about taking care of family, and dealing with the issues that are right in front of one's nose. I empathize with that. Furthermore, I don't think anyone should "do" more than one can do. There's a serious lack of self care amongst people in activist circles. There's also a serious lack of self care amongst people who are, either by choice or circumstance, in care-giver roles for disabled, ailing, or otherwise challenged family members and friends.
However, it's serious time for more of us to ask why this is? Why are families so easily treated as individual units responsible for all the struggles they experience - when such families are not, and could never be considered - isolated in terms of their location within communities?
The sixty year old woman who is struggling to care for her 85 year old mother is not separate from her neighbors, for example, even if her and her mother are living miles away from the next neighbor, or are socially isolated from those living just down the hallway or across the street. Furthermore, they are not separate from the social dynamics and systems that led to the conditions they live under currently.
Some might consider all of this to be an intellectual exercise, but I am witnessing people from widely different backgrounds, with widely different levels of social and economic means, asking questions, re-examining choices, and in some cases, directly challenging the very notion that "my problem" is mine alone, and that the only "reasonable" response to something like an ailing parent is to turn inward, and put all of one's extra energy into care giving.
So many of us have allowed our creativity and imagination to be stolen from us. And so many have allowed their basic goodness and abilities to be privatized, to the point where something as simple as group care-giving amongst friends and neighbors is simply unthinkable.
Please don't take this article as an indictment. Furthermore, it's not really about any one, specific choice. Focusing most of one's energy for a time on caring for an ailing parent might be the most appropriate choice for some folks. The point I am making is broader. It's about how our identities get constructed, and how we act - often unconsciously - from a sense that certain things are true, fixed, and solely individual in nature.
Your thoughts?
too much of it is cause tourism - and by that I mean it's something people use as an escape from their own position, if the issues in which they're engaged are far removed from their own existence.
Cause tourism. You know, that's a pretty useful term there. And while I might not fully agree with how much of it is going on amongst Buddhist circles, it's definitely something that happens - far too often.
People running off to poor countries to "save the children." Others starting up organizations that end up being more about helping a small number of individual activists maintain upper middle class lives than they are about truly transforming the world. There are plenty of examples of how "vowing to do good" - one of the pure precepts - goes quite bad.
But I'm not interested in that today. What interests me is the rest of Mumon's statement. Particularly this: "if the issues in which they're engaged are far removed from their own existence."
As someone who has been involved in various social justice oriented work and activism for nearly twenty years now, one thing I have learned is that the majority of social issues that challenge humans - or the planet for that matter - are happening right down the street. Or in the next neighborhood. Or just across town. Or less than an hour or two drive from your doorstep.
When most Americans think of slavery, they think of something happening in direly poor nations far away from them, if they think slavery exists at all. (Plenty believe it's something entirely from the past.) And yet, every year, stories of slavery or near slavery emerge right here in the U.S., often involving highly vulnerable, undocumented immigrants, some of whom were forcibly brought to the U.S. in the first place.
Images of Ethiopia, and other Africa nations, are almost always associated with starvation, and rampant malnutrition.
What about the people in your neighborhood? In 2010, 17.2 million households, 14.5 percent of households (approximately one in seven), were food insecure, the highest number ever recorded in the United States.
One of the challenges of living in materially wealthy nations is that for the most part, there are just enough buffers available to provide middle and upper class folks with "a way out." There are the geographical separations that keep people "away" from those who are struggling, and the places they reside in. There are also a myriad of what I would call masks and band aid props that allow people with some means to remain mostly separate from those who don't. Everything from zoning laws that prohibit groups of unrelated people to share the costs of housing, to homeless shelters that are willing to "help out," but are staffed with people who won't challenge systems of injustice play a role.
One of the main reasons why many well meaning people gravitate towards "cause tourism" is the fundamental failure to recognize the fictions of their identity. Both the individual fictions, and also the broader collective fictions. Western Buddhists focus a lot on those individual fictions - the stories we have about ourselves that cause us so much misery, and which our attachments to limit our ability to express the greatness that each of us is. However, when it comes to really deeply uncovering and interrogating the default collective narratives many us of us simply take as "normal life," a lot of Western Buddhists fall far short.
What is this "one's own position" Mumon speaks of? How much influence upon it has collective social forces played? How much freedom do "I" have to move in a different direction, if such movement would result in more justice, compassion, and liberation?
And that is just dealing with the "I." Mumon mentions in his post, and I have had others in my sangha say similar things about taking care of family, and dealing with the issues that are right in front of one's nose. I empathize with that. Furthermore, I don't think anyone should "do" more than one can do. There's a serious lack of self care amongst people in activist circles. There's also a serious lack of self care amongst people who are, either by choice or circumstance, in care-giver roles for disabled, ailing, or otherwise challenged family members and friends.
However, it's serious time for more of us to ask why this is? Why are families so easily treated as individual units responsible for all the struggles they experience - when such families are not, and could never be considered - isolated in terms of their location within communities?
The sixty year old woman who is struggling to care for her 85 year old mother is not separate from her neighbors, for example, even if her and her mother are living miles away from the next neighbor, or are socially isolated from those living just down the hallway or across the street. Furthermore, they are not separate from the social dynamics and systems that led to the conditions they live under currently.
Some might consider all of this to be an intellectual exercise, but I am witnessing people from widely different backgrounds, with widely different levels of social and economic means, asking questions, re-examining choices, and in some cases, directly challenging the very notion that "my problem" is mine alone, and that the only "reasonable" response to something like an ailing parent is to turn inward, and put all of one's extra energy into care giving.
So many of us have allowed our creativity and imagination to be stolen from us. And so many have allowed their basic goodness and abilities to be privatized, to the point where something as simple as group care-giving amongst friends and neighbors is simply unthinkable.
Please don't take this article as an indictment. Furthermore, it's not really about any one, specific choice. Focusing most of one's energy for a time on caring for an ailing parent might be the most appropriate choice for some folks. The point I am making is broader. It's about how our identities get constructed, and how we act - often unconsciously - from a sense that certain things are true, fixed, and solely individual in nature.
Your thoughts?
Thursday, February 16, 2012
Green Spirituality
readers will have noticed a down-tick in the number of posts here. There are a few reasons for this. First off, my offline life has been extremely rich over the past few months. Some of this richness has been challenging, but overall, the abundance of the world has been palpable and my gratitude for that has been unwavering. Secondly, I have been writing an essay looking at, among other things, how the physical environments we tend to practice Zen and yoga in reflect the general disconnection many of us have with the planet. The essay will be a part of a book being co-edited by two yoga bloggers that should be coming out later this year. I will share more details on that when they are official.
During the process of writing the essay, I experienced a major block and eventually recognized that the very form of the essay itself - a rational, point by point approach - was reflecting the very issues I was writing about. And while the the finished product will still have a fair amount of that kind of structure, it also includes a lot of personal stories and anecdotes. If I had a larger space to work with, such as book-length, perhaps I would have experimented much more with form.
Because that needs to be happening more regularly. Experimenting. Trying to touch different places within readers.
Frankly, I am coming to believe that we have reached the limits of the analytical, logical approach to understanding. More precisely, the limits of relying on it as the sole or even dominant approach. As I wrote my first draft of the essay, I kept thinking "Where is the wildness here? Where are the weeds? The trickster animals?" And I was asking myself questions like "How can the form itself bring in those missing elements?"
Much of what I see out there as spiritual writing is compartmentalized. Poetry in one corner for a taste of wildness and the unsayable. Memoir to touch the heart with what usually is a carefully constructed story. Well reasoned essay or blog post to examine critical issues, conflicts, or teachings. Interviews that sometimes cross boundaries like these, but which often are cut, edited, or over directed in certain directions by the interviewers.
I'm seeing something similar occurring in the ways many of us make collective decisions. Sitting at Occupy meetings, or in our Zen center board meetings - I have been noticing the headiness of it all. The way certain kinds of talking are privileged. The way we all sit around tables or in chairs and barely move for an hour or two or even more. The way even consensus itself is so often a rational, verbal agreement that ignores the body language, emotional status, wild parts of human and non-human stories, and whatever else is present.
Trying to use language to express all that I am/have been experiencing, becoming more aware of, is failing - but in the failing, I'll offer something I hope.
How do we heal our relationship with the Earth and ultimately with ourselves - since there is no separation? How can anyone speak of enlightenment without also being a life in tandem with the mountains and rivers, crows and dandelions?
In other words, the earth isn't compartmentalized and neither are any of our lives really. Intellectually, some of us know this. Now what?
Wednesday, February 8, 2012
Regional and National Zen Institutions Revisited
The following is a post I wrote a little under two years ago. It got a lot of attention back then, and I believe the issues discussed in it continue to be on the hot plate so to speak. Locally, there has been a bit more cross-sangha connecting bubbling up over the past few years. Mostly organically, without any formal direction or focus behind it.
However, at our board retreat a few weeks ago, we decided that one of our focuses in the coming years will be to make more deliberate connections with our sister sanghas in the Twin Cities area. One potential long term outcome from this could be a collaborative body for sharing resources, helping address common problem issues systematically, and perhaps aiding individual sanghas with any major inter-sangha conflicts that arise.
Which fits in with the discussion that was had below. It's important to note, though, that one of the driving forces behind the posts cited below was a variety of sex scandals that have plagued Zen communities in recent decades. And furthermore, that the issue at Treeleaf sangha that arises was dealt with long ago.
I am actually more interested today in how neighboring Zen sanghas, and Buddhist sanghas in general, might collaborate instead of compete with each. How through sharing and expanding the base of wisdom, they might each become better communities.
So many of the discussions that happened in the wake of the Eido Roshi and Genpo scandals felt reactionary to me. People advocating for stronger national institutions - myself included - weren't thinking too much beyond sangha protection and addressing abuses. And those like Brad Warner, who rejected such organizations, were thinking mostly in terms of the restrictions and limitations.
There's got to be more to the story. I'd be interested in hearing about any cross-sangha collaborations that are currently going on. Or ways in which you believe such collaborations might be hindered. Your thoughts?
Time shift gears for a moment, and get back to the macro level issues. Brad Warner's blog often provides a lot of drama, which isn't so helpful. But the guy says some important stuff sometimes, even if it's perfectly useful material to disagree with. His most recent post has to do with another by Zen teacher James Ford, both of which address institutional structures in American Zen, spurred on by the recent resignation of Zen teacher Eido Shimano. There have been countless posts covering the details of the allegations against Shimano, so instead of getting into all of that, I'm going to focus in on the issue of oversight and large, national or even international institutional bodies.
James Ford advocates that here in the U.S., we need a stronger national institutional body to oversee the various Zen institutions that have developed over the past century or so.
Ford goes on to point out that many Zen Centers don't have well developed policies and regulations for dealing with breaches of power within the sangha.
"At this point the only larger institutions to emerge that have ethical codes with teeth are the San Francisco Zen Center and the Kwan Um School of Zen, both institutions having experienced very rough times around sexual conduct of teachers pretty early on."
I'm not sure where exactly Ford is getting his information from about all of this. He very well could be right. I will say, though, that my own center, Clouds in Water doesn't fall into the groups Ford mentions, but does have a pretty rigorous structure for dealing with ethical violations, both of the student-teacher variety, and between members regardless of status. The development of this began long ago, but the "teeth" if you will, was added after our own teacher scandal situation, which resulted in the departure of our former leader. I can't imagine that we are the only other example, besides SFZC and Kwan Um that has developed healthy oversight mechanisms to serve their communities.
Back to the issue of a national oversight body, Brad Warner is totally against it.
The interesting thing about all of this is that from what I have seen here locally, even the idea of getting Zen centers together nationally to work on these kinds of issues is kind of like herding cats. Here in the Twin Cities, we have nearly half a dozen heirs of Dainin Katagiri who lead Buddhist organizations. They all know each other well, having practiced together for years. And while they periodically meet to exchange ideas and support each other, working together on something like a co-operative oversight board for the Twin Cities just hasn't happened. There have been attempts at times to get something more collaborative to occur, but beyond the occasional dual sponsored visiting teacher event, it's really each organization for it's own.
And James Ford points out that the national American Zen Teachers Association "isn’t even a professional organization. It is basically a listserv and an annual gathering of peers without bylaws or, codes of conduct."
In addition to the AZTA, there is the North American office of the Sotoshu, which could be the kind of body that Ford is suggesting needs to have a stronger influence, but certainly doesn't act in the way the Roman Catholic Church hierarchy does.
In some ways, Brad's comparison between the Catholic church and Zen institutions isn't very helpful. However, the issues of power and sex abuse cases make it hard to not make such a comparison.
In fact, Ford himself makes a different comparison using the same two groups in this totally fascinating paragraph:
A large part of the kerfuffle going on over at the Treeleaf community seems be about this very issue. Is the teacher enlightened? Should we talk about enlightenment? If yes, how so? What level of authority should a teacher have, and how much does it depend on his/hers' level of understanding/attainment?
The student that was tossed out of the Treeleaf community directly challenged his teacher's understanding and experience repeatedly. He also pointed to his own experiences, suggesting that even if he's a student, his view shouldn't be dismissed as mere attachment. We could have a long debate about whether Chet, the student at Treeleaf, is being arrogant and ridiculous, but that's not really the point. I think what James Ford is trying to get at in his post is that because of the causes and conditions present here in the U.S. and in other nations outside of the Asian nations where Buddhism originated, the Zen teacher and the Zen institution functions differently, and needs different kinds of structures to address what's occurring.
At the same time, I can't help but thinking that Brad Warner's argument against national oversight bodies might have some validity to it.
Now, clearly Brad likes to be a "free agent" so to speak. He's got a bit of former Major League baseball player Curt Flood in him. That's not a bad thing, necessarily, but anyone looking at baseball these days would say that free agency has caused plenty of trouble, even if it has given players more freedom and much higher salaries.
However, I do think that whenever large institutions get heavily involved in anything, creativity and uniqueness of expression get challenged. And if you look at famous Zen teachers and students throughout history, there's an awful lot of creativity and uniqueness to be found, and also plenty of examples of free agent types who were shunned by the majority of people, but who's stories have lived on and inspired people hundreds of years after those who shunned them have died and disappeared completely. Mediocrity might make for a certain kind of longevity, but it doesn't inspire people to awaken to their true nature.
With that said, I still think a free for all isn't really helpful. The very forms of our practice - the chanting, bowing, zazen postures, etc. - provide a base to spring off of. They might not all be necessary for any given individual to awaken in this life, but they do seem akin to learning the scales in music. What this means in terms of providing leadership for Zen at a national level - I don't really know. For every James Ford advocating for strong national oversight, there are probably as many Brad Warners out there, even if they wish to deny any linkage with him.
For those of you in the broader Zen community, what do you think needs to be done, if anything, about ethical issues occurring in sanghas? Is it the job of each sangha? A regional or national body? Both? Neither?
And for those of you outside of the Zen community, what do you make of all of this?
However, at our board retreat a few weeks ago, we decided that one of our focuses in the coming years will be to make more deliberate connections with our sister sanghas in the Twin Cities area. One potential long term outcome from this could be a collaborative body for sharing resources, helping address common problem issues systematically, and perhaps aiding individual sanghas with any major inter-sangha conflicts that arise.
Which fits in with the discussion that was had below. It's important to note, though, that one of the driving forces behind the posts cited below was a variety of sex scandals that have plagued Zen communities in recent decades. And furthermore, that the issue at Treeleaf sangha that arises was dealt with long ago.
I am actually more interested today in how neighboring Zen sanghas, and Buddhist sanghas in general, might collaborate instead of compete with each. How through sharing and expanding the base of wisdom, they might each become better communities.
So many of the discussions that happened in the wake of the Eido Roshi and Genpo scandals felt reactionary to me. People advocating for stronger national institutions - myself included - weren't thinking too much beyond sangha protection and addressing abuses. And those like Brad Warner, who rejected such organizations, were thinking mostly in terms of the restrictions and limitations.
There's got to be more to the story. I'd be interested in hearing about any cross-sangha collaborations that are currently going on. Or ways in which you believe such collaborations might be hindered. Your thoughts?
Time shift gears for a moment, and get back to the macro level issues. Brad Warner's blog often provides a lot of drama, which isn't so helpful. But the guy says some important stuff sometimes, even if it's perfectly useful material to disagree with. His most recent post has to do with another by Zen teacher James Ford, both of which address institutional structures in American Zen, spurred on by the recent resignation of Zen teacher Eido Shimano. There have been countless posts covering the details of the allegations against Shimano, so instead of getting into all of that, I'm going to focus in on the issue of oversight and large, national or even international institutional bodies.
James Ford advocates that here in the U.S., we need a stronger national institutional body to oversee the various Zen institutions that have developed over the past century or so.
Here I see the lack of larger institutions that oversee teachers and communities is a major problem. Not just about sex, but it is a good placeholder for all the complex issues of human relationships.
Ford goes on to point out that many Zen Centers don't have well developed policies and regulations for dealing with breaches of power within the sangha.
"At this point the only larger institutions to emerge that have ethical codes with teeth are the San Francisco Zen Center and the Kwan Um School of Zen, both institutions having experienced very rough times around sexual conduct of teachers pretty early on."
I'm not sure where exactly Ford is getting his information from about all of this. He very well could be right. I will say, though, that my own center, Clouds in Water doesn't fall into the groups Ford mentions, but does have a pretty rigorous structure for dealing with ethical violations, both of the student-teacher variety, and between members regardless of status. The development of this began long ago, but the "teeth" if you will, was added after our own teacher scandal situation, which resulted in the departure of our former leader. I can't imagine that we are the only other example, besides SFZC and Kwan Um that has developed healthy oversight mechanisms to serve their communities.
Back to the issue of a national oversight body, Brad Warner is totally against it.
I have to completely disagree. Because the Holy Roman Catholic Church is a gigantic institution with a very toothy ethical code and still sexual abuses of all kinds continue. Sure, when ethical abuses occur there are consequences. But only when the code is properly enforced by ethical people. And I’ve seen too many instances where that has broken down to believe that the simple existence of a big institution with an ethical code with teeth will always prevent abuses, or even prevent most abuses, or even prevent the worst abuses.
In the case of Zen, there is also something much more fundamental at stake, and that is the very existence of Zen itself. I don’t believe Zen can really be practiced at all unless its teachers are totally autonomous and not beholden to institutions.
I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again, I feel that Zen teachers are more like artists than like religious instructors. If you bind artists to institutions, you kill their ability to create art.
The interesting thing about all of this is that from what I have seen here locally, even the idea of getting Zen centers together nationally to work on these kinds of issues is kind of like herding cats. Here in the Twin Cities, we have nearly half a dozen heirs of Dainin Katagiri who lead Buddhist organizations. They all know each other well, having practiced together for years. And while they periodically meet to exchange ideas and support each other, working together on something like a co-operative oversight board for the Twin Cities just hasn't happened. There have been attempts at times to get something more collaborative to occur, but beyond the occasional dual sponsored visiting teacher event, it's really each organization for it's own.
And James Ford points out that the national American Zen Teachers Association "isn’t even a professional organization. It is basically a listserv and an annual gathering of peers without bylaws or, codes of conduct."
In addition to the AZTA, there is the North American office of the Sotoshu, which could be the kind of body that Ford is suggesting needs to have a stronger influence, but certainly doesn't act in the way the Roman Catholic Church hierarchy does.
In some ways, Brad's comparison between the Catholic church and Zen institutions isn't very helpful. However, the issues of power and sex abuse cases make it hard to not make such a comparison.
In fact, Ford himself makes a different comparison using the same two groups in this totally fascinating paragraph:
My rough analogy for this deconstruction is that we’ve shifted our understanding of the Zen teacher in a manner somewhat similar to the shift from a Roman Catholic understanding of its priests to an Anglican understanding of its priests. The myth of apostolic succession has been seen through and replaced with the understanding that it is a good, if imperfect symbol. The Zen teacher is a construct of medieval China and has been adapted in our own times to stand as a person with many years of training and authorization by another such within a broad community of practice. Whatever the titles (and I’m living proof they’re inflated), the reality is that among the Zen teachers who are mostly meditation teachers, there may be some genuine masters.
A large part of the kerfuffle going on over at the Treeleaf community seems be about this very issue. Is the teacher enlightened? Should we talk about enlightenment? If yes, how so? What level of authority should a teacher have, and how much does it depend on his/hers' level of understanding/attainment?
The student that was tossed out of the Treeleaf community directly challenged his teacher's understanding and experience repeatedly. He also pointed to his own experiences, suggesting that even if he's a student, his view shouldn't be dismissed as mere attachment. We could have a long debate about whether Chet, the student at Treeleaf, is being arrogant and ridiculous, but that's not really the point. I think what James Ford is trying to get at in his post is that because of the causes and conditions present here in the U.S. and in other nations outside of the Asian nations where Buddhism originated, the Zen teacher and the Zen institution functions differently, and needs different kinds of structures to address what's occurring.
At the same time, I can't help but thinking that Brad Warner's argument against national oversight bodies might have some validity to it.
Also, institutions tend to reflect the lowest common denominator of what their members understand as acceptable behavior. They are bound to come up with the most conservative definition possible. People who don’t agree that democracy is best often speak of democracy as the “tyranny of the masses.” And this is what happens with Zen institutions. It becomes more about what the greatest number of members think they want than what’s actually necessary for Zen teaching to occur. This can never be decided democratically.
Now, clearly Brad likes to be a "free agent" so to speak. He's got a bit of former Major League baseball player Curt Flood in him. That's not a bad thing, necessarily, but anyone looking at baseball these days would say that free agency has caused plenty of trouble, even if it has given players more freedom and much higher salaries.
However, I do think that whenever large institutions get heavily involved in anything, creativity and uniqueness of expression get challenged. And if you look at famous Zen teachers and students throughout history, there's an awful lot of creativity and uniqueness to be found, and also plenty of examples of free agent types who were shunned by the majority of people, but who's stories have lived on and inspired people hundreds of years after those who shunned them have died and disappeared completely. Mediocrity might make for a certain kind of longevity, but it doesn't inspire people to awaken to their true nature.
With that said, I still think a free for all isn't really helpful. The very forms of our practice - the chanting, bowing, zazen postures, etc. - provide a base to spring off of. They might not all be necessary for any given individual to awaken in this life, but they do seem akin to learning the scales in music. What this means in terms of providing leadership for Zen at a national level - I don't really know. For every James Ford advocating for strong national oversight, there are probably as many Brad Warners out there, even if they wish to deny any linkage with him.
For those of you in the broader Zen community, what do you think needs to be done, if anything, about ethical issues occurring in sanghas? Is it the job of each sangha? A regional or national body? Both? Neither?
And for those of you outside of the Zen community, what do you make of all of this?
Monday, February 6, 2012
Expanded Love
I have been contemplating the ways in which we construct narratives recently - and probably much of my life if I'm really honest.
Lately, though, there's been a tug around blogging,
and the ways in which what gets written (here and elsewhere)
tends to be linear,
rather rational,
and well, simply put, organized towards certain messages or outcomes.
How does this impact readers? Or writers for that matter?
What are the limits of this kind of writing when it comes to speaking about -
expressing
our spiritual lives?
------------------
Let's try something different. And see what happens.
Start with this: Americans alone spend $5.7 billion annually on yoga classes and products.
That BIG. Big Mind Big. Every time I think of folks paying $50,000 to hang with Zen teacher Genpo Merzel, that's what comes to mind.
Big, but not
expansive
Not the universe,
multi-verse
moving in the ten directions,
connected if you will
as we are
with the myriad of beings
A few days ago, I came to stop at the edge of the bus stop, as a man was talking to someone on a cell phone, upset, pacing back and forth in the cool, early February wind.
Soon, he stopped too. Stopped talking. Clicked the phone shut. Looked at me. Sighed. Said "Sorry about that. My brother just died."
I stopped again. The "I" who was worried about such a conversation happening.
He started: "Things sometimes happen you know."
I do. But didn't.
"It's just that my sister stole the clothes he left me. I don't know why she did that."
Tears. Coming from somewhere between us
breaking through
both
for a moment
In meditation retreats. Sitting there, my entire body aching,
I have looked around and saw that nearly everyone else was still in half or full lotus posture.
So, what have I done? Stayed in half lotus, and either tried to cut off the bodily sensations, or intellectualized the pain as being “good for my practice.”
Why do we keep cutting our selves off from ourselves?
This man loved his brother. He was willing to cry with a stranger at a bus stop over his brother.
That's love just as much as the boundless joy of being together is.
Do you really know how to love? Allow love to grow and be?
The body as sex object. The body as an advertising method, and sales tool. The body as a machine. The body as a workhorse, means of obtaining income through labor. The body as powerhouse athlete.
All of these narratives are pulsing through many of us,
stealing the canals of our hearts
threatening to damn us
to lives of
quiet
or not so quiet
misery
He called himself "the godfather" of his family,
but also
a "lost cause"
damaged by military service,
and that which remained in silence
whatever it was
which clearly left him limping,
languishing in a certain kind of lack
even as he so easily
lifted the bar, unclasped the belt
tethered
to the wheelchair
of a passenger
about to get off
the bus
“alienation from the self is the entire focus of yoga philosophy"
yoga teacher Stephen Cope once wrote
as if we really needed that sentence
and yet
it's all so clear to me now, the way the seeds lay in our fields waiting,
patiently waiting
for the rain to come.
Lately, though, there's been a tug around blogging,
and the ways in which what gets written (here and elsewhere)
tends to be linear,
rather rational,
and well, simply put, organized towards certain messages or outcomes.
How does this impact readers? Or writers for that matter?
What are the limits of this kind of writing when it comes to speaking about -
expressing
our spiritual lives?
------------------
Let's try something different. And see what happens.
Start with this: Americans alone spend $5.7 billion annually on yoga classes and products.
That BIG. Big Mind Big. Every time I think of folks paying $50,000 to hang with Zen teacher Genpo Merzel, that's what comes to mind.
Big, but not
expansive
Not the universe,
multi-verse
moving in the ten directions,
connected if you will
as we are
with the myriad of beings
A few days ago, I came to stop at the edge of the bus stop, as a man was talking to someone on a cell phone, upset, pacing back and forth in the cool, early February wind.
Soon, he stopped too. Stopped talking. Clicked the phone shut. Looked at me. Sighed. Said "Sorry about that. My brother just died."
I stopped again. The "I" who was worried about such a conversation happening.
He started: "Things sometimes happen you know."
I do. But didn't.
"It's just that my sister stole the clothes he left me. I don't know why she did that."
Tears. Coming from somewhere between us
breaking through
both
for a moment
In meditation retreats. Sitting there, my entire body aching,
I have looked around and saw that nearly everyone else was still in half or full lotus posture.
So, what have I done? Stayed in half lotus, and either tried to cut off the bodily sensations, or intellectualized the pain as being “good for my practice.”
Why do we keep cutting our selves off from ourselves?
This man loved his brother. He was willing to cry with a stranger at a bus stop over his brother.
That's love just as much as the boundless joy of being together is.
Do you really know how to love? Allow love to grow and be?
The body as sex object. The body as an advertising method, and sales tool. The body as a machine. The body as a workhorse, means of obtaining income through labor. The body as powerhouse athlete.
All of these narratives are pulsing through many of us,
stealing the canals of our hearts
threatening to damn us
to lives of
quiet
or not so quiet
misery
He called himself "the godfather" of his family,
but also
a "lost cause"
damaged by military service,
and that which remained in silence
whatever it was
which clearly left him limping,
languishing in a certain kind of lack
even as he so easily
lifted the bar, unclasped the belt
tethered
to the wheelchair
of a passenger
about to get off
the bus
“alienation from the self is the entire focus of yoga philosophy"
yoga teacher Stephen Cope once wrote
as if we really needed that sentence
and yet
it's all so clear to me now, the way the seeds lay in our fields waiting,
patiently waiting
for the rain to come.
Tuesday, January 31, 2012
Buddhist Anger and Conflict
Arun posted an excellent commentary by another Buddhist writer, Dolma, on his blog recently. It takes up the sticky issue of anger, in particular the ways in which Buddhists are stereotyped. Let's consider the following selection:
It's important to note that the "positive" stereotyping of Buddhists as "always calm and peaceful" is probably as harmful as the "negative" stereotyping of Buddhists (especially Asian and Asian-American Buddhists) as passive and submissive. I can't tell you how many times I have been praised for my relative calm and ability to act in non-violent manners, and then have that linked to the idea that Buddhists never get angry anyway. It's sometimes subtle. Beginning with sincere respect and appreciation, but then swerving, for example, into muddled thoughts about what "Zen" is. Sometimes, though, it's absolutely not subtle. I get upset. Or speak in a somewhat raised voice about some issue I'm passionate about, and there's shock and confusion.
What's interesting is that over the years, I have ingested just enough of the stereotyping and pressures to conform that I probably don't express anger enough. Although actually, when I think about it, for me it's less about "anger" and more about variations on the theme that get suppressed. I don't consider myself someone who is filled with repressed anger. However, I am a man who is quite passionate about numerous issues, and who feels - sometimes intensely - the suffering of the world. The various oppressions. The injustices. And all of it pisses me off sometimes, and frankly, I think that's a good thing.
Beyond all of that, though, there's the issue of conflict. Because honestly, what people label as anger or angry is often really about the way they experience conflict with others. Something said feels fierce. Or stirs up some old wound or grief. And suddenly the label "anger" comes forth to the rescue. that's it. It's anger. The problem is that sometimes, it's not anger. And even if it is, so what? It's another human expression, one that need not control us or destroy is - and yet, so often ends up doing just that.
Going back to Dolma's post, I recall a conversation over the summer with a Christian guy who was certain Buddhists couldn't do the "hard work" of social activism. That Buddhists "are too passive and individualistically focused" to ever help bring about any significant social change. The levels of obnoxiousness in that conversation went through the roof at times. I spoke about my own experiences and involvements over the years, and the ways in which Buddhist teachings deeply informed that work. I spoke about social movements around the world designed by, and led by, Buddhists of all different backgrounds. None of it seemed to break through. At the end of the conversation, he stuck by his initial assertion that Buddhism is mostly about "individual peace," something he had a vague respect for, but which really didn't register as that valuable in terms of dealing with the big social issues of the day.
Ironically, the similar kinds of commentaries have come from folks within our sanghas as well. And from members of the worldwide online sangha as well.
And yet, the issues with anger and Buddhists are much larger than that which stems from social issues. I have witnessed interpersonal conflicts in my own Zen community that lingered on for weeks, months, perhaps years in some cases, in part - in my opinion - due to the ways in which the stereotypes around what a "good Zen student" is and isn't have saturated our community culture. As one of the sangha's leaders, I have often struggled with how strong and fiercely to present certain ideas I have out of a knowing that we sometimes collectively collapse around conflict.
One of the mistakes that gets made in my opinion is that strong, fierce, and even passionate presentations of views and ideas gets immediately linked to a deep, problematic attachment. Over the weekend, we had a board retreat during which I spoke quite candidly about wanting to keep our sangha in an "urban" environment. Desiring diversity and community engagement, as well as seeing ways in which "deep practice" can be done regardless of "where" one is located, I felt compelled to advocate for staying in the city. At points during that discussion, I kind of wondered if some might have mistook my passion for problematic attachment. Maybe not. I honestly don't know. Part of the reason I kept pushing in the first place was to help unearth what I believe are some unspoken differences about sangha lying beneath the general sense of agreement and consensus we tend to have as a board. And yet, this kind of purposeful, deliberate moving towards conflict could have been felt threatening or troubling because of how intimate conflict seems to be linked with "bad" or "not Zen-like."
Dolma sites the application of lovingkindness when anger arises. Yet, if we are constantly striving to be "perfect little serene Buddhas" within our Buddhist sanghas, how will we learn how to apply that lovingkindness? In all honesty, I have learned more about applying lovingkindness outside of Zen center in the face of anger - others and my own - than within. And sometimes, it's been quite a rough ride exploring different ways to be with and express anger with the teachings in mind. Lay Buddhist communities might need to consider ways they can set up deliberate "laboratories of anger" to help students practice dealing with anger in a safer, more contained setting.
Overall, the way many Westerners view Zen - insiders and outsiders - is broken down into a limited binary. On the one hand, you have the calm, serene monk meditating, studying texts, and perhaps washing some dishes and chopping wood. On the other hand, you have the koan caricatures of Zen teachers making dramatic, sometimes physically violent movements or short bursts of "enlightened" speech. What about all the territory in between? Stories about the abuses under samurai culture, for example, sometimes get referenced and offered as warnings by people who have studied a bit more about Zen. However, there's so much unexplored territory around how conflict and anger has actually been handled by Zen teachers and students throughout the centuries. And obviously Zen is only one of the myriad of branches of Buddhism out there, each of which has their own particular flavor of dealing with anger and conflict.
Whenever I or others online have written about power and sex scandals in Buddhist communities, the gawkers come out in full force. Many of them fellow Buddhists. Which gives me pause. Is part of the collective obsession with these scandals coming from an unspoken desire to somehow come to "understand" conflict through these situations, and then be able to construct "defenses against it" so that we can somehow move on?
Because I don't think there is a moving on really. More and more, I'm seeing conflict as an opportunity to grow and evolve. To awaken even. And sometimes that requires holding on to your views a little longer. Pushing a little harder. Being a bit more "difficult." Being fully human, including at times, angry and even outraged.
I personally feel the world is at a major crossroads. And how we approach anger and conflict will probably make a major difference in terms of what the world is like for our future descendents.
many individuals, whether they have any knowledge of Buddhism or not, seem to be comfortable with hushing a Buddhist critique. A patronising “calm down,” some poorly recited Sutras, and a “Well, I’ve read Siddhartha.” That’s what we get. Fantastic.
These dismissals truly stem from Orientalist ideologies. Asians are perceived as submissive and obedient, and therefore, adherents to an Asian religion must contain themselves in a similar manner. This is where my anger truly stems from, which is why I feel disheartened when my fellow Buddhists suggest that I’m overreacting. I always welcome discussion on religion, theology and spirituality. However these situations are not respectful engagements, they’re the layering of weary prejudices that are inherently violent. They’re disrespectful to my religion, ethnic community, and to my identity as a whole. In his teachings on anger, the Buddha encouraged us to avoid harmful speech, and to apply lovingkindness where there is anger.
It's important to note that the "positive" stereotyping of Buddhists as "always calm and peaceful" is probably as harmful as the "negative" stereotyping of Buddhists (especially Asian and Asian-American Buddhists) as passive and submissive. I can't tell you how many times I have been praised for my relative calm and ability to act in non-violent manners, and then have that linked to the idea that Buddhists never get angry anyway. It's sometimes subtle. Beginning with sincere respect and appreciation, but then swerving, for example, into muddled thoughts about what "Zen" is. Sometimes, though, it's absolutely not subtle. I get upset. Or speak in a somewhat raised voice about some issue I'm passionate about, and there's shock and confusion.
What's interesting is that over the years, I have ingested just enough of the stereotyping and pressures to conform that I probably don't express anger enough. Although actually, when I think about it, for me it's less about "anger" and more about variations on the theme that get suppressed. I don't consider myself someone who is filled with repressed anger. However, I am a man who is quite passionate about numerous issues, and who feels - sometimes intensely - the suffering of the world. The various oppressions. The injustices. And all of it pisses me off sometimes, and frankly, I think that's a good thing.
Beyond all of that, though, there's the issue of conflict. Because honestly, what people label as anger or angry is often really about the way they experience conflict with others. Something said feels fierce. Or stirs up some old wound or grief. And suddenly the label "anger" comes forth to the rescue. that's it. It's anger. The problem is that sometimes, it's not anger. And even if it is, so what? It's another human expression, one that need not control us or destroy is - and yet, so often ends up doing just that.
Going back to Dolma's post, I recall a conversation over the summer with a Christian guy who was certain Buddhists couldn't do the "hard work" of social activism. That Buddhists "are too passive and individualistically focused" to ever help bring about any significant social change. The levels of obnoxiousness in that conversation went through the roof at times. I spoke about my own experiences and involvements over the years, and the ways in which Buddhist teachings deeply informed that work. I spoke about social movements around the world designed by, and led by, Buddhists of all different backgrounds. None of it seemed to break through. At the end of the conversation, he stuck by his initial assertion that Buddhism is mostly about "individual peace," something he had a vague respect for, but which really didn't register as that valuable in terms of dealing with the big social issues of the day.
Ironically, the similar kinds of commentaries have come from folks within our sanghas as well. And from members of the worldwide online sangha as well.
And yet, the issues with anger and Buddhists are much larger than that which stems from social issues. I have witnessed interpersonal conflicts in my own Zen community that lingered on for weeks, months, perhaps years in some cases, in part - in my opinion - due to the ways in which the stereotypes around what a "good Zen student" is and isn't have saturated our community culture. As one of the sangha's leaders, I have often struggled with how strong and fiercely to present certain ideas I have out of a knowing that we sometimes collectively collapse around conflict.
One of the mistakes that gets made in my opinion is that strong, fierce, and even passionate presentations of views and ideas gets immediately linked to a deep, problematic attachment. Over the weekend, we had a board retreat during which I spoke quite candidly about wanting to keep our sangha in an "urban" environment. Desiring diversity and community engagement, as well as seeing ways in which "deep practice" can be done regardless of "where" one is located, I felt compelled to advocate for staying in the city. At points during that discussion, I kind of wondered if some might have mistook my passion for problematic attachment. Maybe not. I honestly don't know. Part of the reason I kept pushing in the first place was to help unearth what I believe are some unspoken differences about sangha lying beneath the general sense of agreement and consensus we tend to have as a board. And yet, this kind of purposeful, deliberate moving towards conflict could have been felt threatening or troubling because of how intimate conflict seems to be linked with "bad" or "not Zen-like."
Dolma sites the application of lovingkindness when anger arises. Yet, if we are constantly striving to be "perfect little serene Buddhas" within our Buddhist sanghas, how will we learn how to apply that lovingkindness? In all honesty, I have learned more about applying lovingkindness outside of Zen center in the face of anger - others and my own - than within. And sometimes, it's been quite a rough ride exploring different ways to be with and express anger with the teachings in mind. Lay Buddhist communities might need to consider ways they can set up deliberate "laboratories of anger" to help students practice dealing with anger in a safer, more contained setting.
Overall, the way many Westerners view Zen - insiders and outsiders - is broken down into a limited binary. On the one hand, you have the calm, serene monk meditating, studying texts, and perhaps washing some dishes and chopping wood. On the other hand, you have the koan caricatures of Zen teachers making dramatic, sometimes physically violent movements or short bursts of "enlightened" speech. What about all the territory in between? Stories about the abuses under samurai culture, for example, sometimes get referenced and offered as warnings by people who have studied a bit more about Zen. However, there's so much unexplored territory around how conflict and anger has actually been handled by Zen teachers and students throughout the centuries. And obviously Zen is only one of the myriad of branches of Buddhism out there, each of which has their own particular flavor of dealing with anger and conflict.
Whenever I or others online have written about power and sex scandals in Buddhist communities, the gawkers come out in full force. Many of them fellow Buddhists. Which gives me pause. Is part of the collective obsession with these scandals coming from an unspoken desire to somehow come to "understand" conflict through these situations, and then be able to construct "defenses against it" so that we can somehow move on?
Because I don't think there is a moving on really. More and more, I'm seeing conflict as an opportunity to grow and evolve. To awaken even. And sometimes that requires holding on to your views a little longer. Pushing a little harder. Being a bit more "difficult." Being fully human, including at times, angry and even outraged.
I personally feel the world is at a major crossroads. And how we approach anger and conflict will probably make a major difference in terms of what the world is like for our future descendents.
Friday, January 27, 2012
Buddhist Solidarity
Two of my favorite Buddhist bloggers, Maia and Katie, are present in this interview of Katie done on the blog Jizo Chronicles. I want to reflect briefly on the following section of Katie's comments:
On a larger scale, exploring interdependence has really shaped the way I understand solidarity. I don’t have to “know” someone in order to comprehend that we are connected — spiritually, and through local and global systems. The workers at the Foxconn factories in China, who face penalties of twelve years in prison for attempting to unionize, probably helped produce this laptop I’m typing on. And they must continue to work under unbearable conditions; otherwise, they and their families won’t eat. But their situation won’t improve, necessarily, if I give up my laptop, or stop buying Apple products. Instead (in my opinion) I am called to practice compassion and solidarity by supporting the actual struggles of the workers, and similar struggles of workers and peasants not only abroad but in the U.S. as well.
With the markedly increased speed and potential impact of communications these days, we actually have a greater chance of making a difference in the lives of people living half way across the globe. The digital support through blog posts, tweets, articles, petitions, etc. that people around the globe sent to folks protesting in Arab countries over the past year has been heard and deeply felt. The reciprocal standing in solidarity from those same protestors was felt by yours truly and many of his fellow Occupiers during the past several months as well. It may seem like a tiny thing - a blog post, a sharing on Facebook or Twitter - but it all adds up. And these days, often quickly.
There was a photo a few months back of an Egyptian protestor in Tahir Square holding up a sign supporting those who had been beaten in Katie's current hometown of Oakland during the occupy protests. It brought me to tears.
We aren't alone. No one is alone. And there are more and more creative ways people are finding to stand in solidarity with people around the world. From expanding the messaging being used against destructive legislation at home to include it's global impact, to strategically spreading ideas for social change, we are moving beyond simply clicking on a petition and forgetting about it.
Furthermore, the best elements of the nearly worldwide now protest movements are starting to combine activism with a deep commitment to personal relationships. Recognizing that how we are with each other, how we care for each other, is probably just as important, if not more so, than any political "victory."
I hope to write more about this, and similar topics, in the coming months. In the meantime, feel free to share your thoughts.
Monday, January 9, 2012
Lack, Abunance, and A Line fron Dogen
If the dharma has not yet fully come into one's body and mind, one thinks it is already sufficient. On the other hand, if the dharma fills one's body and mind, there is a sense of insufficiency. Dogen, Genjokoan
Feeling insufficient, or having a strong sense of lack, is pretty common here in the U.S. anyway. Pretty ironic, given how much "material abundance" we have, even those of us who are fairly poor, at least in comparison to much of the rest of the world. But it's also beyond this.
I remember hearing about how the Dalai Lama was shocked that some people in "western" countries were plagued by self hatred, or at least battered "self-esteem." The strong influence of the doctrine of original sin, as well as capitalism's endless creation of "needs," certainly play a role in all of this.
So, there's that, but then we have the "sufficiency" Dogen speaks about above, which is an arrogance, a belief in a total understanding that isn't present.
These two things go together. The feelings of lack coupled with a belief that you have all the answers, are already fully awakened.
There's nothing really special, though, about the "lack" those of us living in materially rich countries experience. Maybe it just displays itself at such extremes that it's an easy example to uphold and examine.
In any case, humans tend to have it all flipped around, these experiences of insufficiency and sufficiency.
What do you think?
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