Buddhist Prayer

*This post originally appeared on DH back in 2010. The conversation back then was rich, so I decided to repost it today.

We had a ceremony this morning at zen center commemorating the Parinirvana, or physical death day, of the Buddha. It was a short ceremony, attached to our regular children's precept ceremony, but I noticed that, at one point, the doan (basically a chanting leader), spoke in language that could be called a prayer. He said something to the effect of "May Shakyamuni Buddha continue to support and lead us through our lives." Now, it's important to note that there isn't a belief here of a deity hovering over our world, determining what is happening and what will happen in the future. If anything, a statement like this is calling forth the buddhanature - enlightened energy - within each of us to continue to manifest in our lives.

About a week ago, there was a post over at Barbara's Buddhism Blog about prayer in Buddhism. She basically takes the stance that we Buddhists do not pray because prayer assumes a petitionary stance towards some outward deity or spirit. In the comments section that follows the post, there's a fascinating set of exchanges between Barbara and a commenter named Jeff Wilson. Wilson brings up that many Japanese Zen practitioners, in everyday life, make petitionary prayers in daily life to such figures as Kwan Yin, Jizo, and other bodhisattvas, while at the same time, believing in the core Buddhist doctrine of interdependence. He parses this activity out as an example of working within the relative or practical world, while at the same time, maintaining the ultimate view that there is nothing separate in this world. Barbara was having none of that, and defended her position, getting snotty at the end in my opinion.

All of this, though, raises the question for me of why such discomfort with the word "prayer" and activities that would fall under it's domain? I don't get it. Possibly it's tied up the definition Barbara seems to give, that prayer is basically done towards the outside, suggesting a belief in a supernatural being having an ability to control some aspect of your life. Well, maybe. But does it have to be? Can one not pray, even petition for something or some quality, but from within?

I'd answer a resounding yes! Look at the old Sufi poets, who spoke constantly of God, but were often, if not exclusively "praying" to wake up what was already within them. I "pray" to Jizo fairly frequently, especially to call from within me that equanimity that seems to disappear when I am biking in traffic.

The fuss I have seen when it comes to prayer - and I've seen it in people in my own sangha, as well as people writing online - seems curiously limiting to me. Because those monotheistic folks do prayer, we Buddhists better eschew it. Or because it sounds like a petition to a deity, we better say we don't do it. Or because Buddhists are about meditation, we don't pray. Honestly, I can only guess at the myriad of reasons for eschewing prayer in all forms, but it all seems like a reaction to other traditions, an act of separating Buddhism from other spiritualities, which seems like a waste of time and energy to me.

In her post, Barbara suggests that Zen folks don't pray, but we do "invoke." The main definitions of invoke are "to petition for help or support," or "to appeal to or cite as authority." Sounds like prayer if you ask me. And I see no issue with it at all. My petitions to Jizo do not change my view that there is no separate God out there. And I can imagine that plenty of Buddhists around the world can invoke, or pray, to any number of deities and still maintain a similar understanding. And maybe some do think there are separate bodhisattvas floating around out there, protecting and helping people. I guess I'm not all that interested in judging these folks as "wrong practitioners" for believing in such things.

*Jizo image from the Michigan Aikido blog.

Bicycle Zen

Like. Don't like. Neutral.

These are the three base-level feelings we experience about everything in our lives. Peel off the skin of any emotional response and you'll find these at work.

If we learn to let these three just come and go, a lot of trouble can be avoided. Easier said than done of course.

A simple example from my own life might help illustrate this. As a lifelong bicyclist in a city, I have had my struggles with cars and traffic. Bicycling in the city isn't terribly easy. Planning and design work almost always privileges motorized vehicles over bikes and pedestrians - at least here in the U.S. Even when things are well marked and it appears to be "safe" for bikers, you can still run into inattentive or angry drivers that would rather you weren't there.

For many years, I biked with a deep resentment towards motorized vehicles. It didn't matter if they were actually doing anything dangerous or not in any given moment. Someone might offer me a chance to cross ahead of them, for example, and I'd think they were trying to shoo me through quickly. That shooing quickly snowballed into "these folks don't respect me at all." Which usually spun into "bikers are second class citizens." Although there's still some truth to the last statement, the stories aren't at all helpful while actually biking. But I'd get hooked by them, and it all stemmed from an initial "don't like" that came up again and again.

About three years ago, I began cutting through the thoughts and emotional reactions that developed in response to this don't like by chanting the Jizo Bodhisattva chant while riding. Jizo is kind of an archetypal Buddhist figure that is said to protect travelers, children, the dead, and vows among other things. Chozen Bays Roshi of Great Vow Monastery wrote a fabulous book about Jizo several years ago that I was fortunate to study soon after it was published. As soon as I learned about it, I knew Jizo would be a companion on my spiritual journey.

Biking with Jizo has become a norm for me. Although I have to confess that I haven't been so diligent in recent months and it's starting to show. However, more often than not, I experience the like, don't like, and neutral more clearly. Without a lot of getting lost in elaboration. Stinky alley. Don't like. Fall leaves. Like. Dog in a yard. Neutral. End of story.

Do I still get pissed and reactive towards motorized vehicles at times? Sure. However, such experiences sometimes colored my entire day in the past, and now usually burn off within minutes. And when I think about it, it really comes back to this point of being able to see, and experience, these three base-level feeling tones without getting lost in emotional and thought elaborations.

What's your experience with all of this?

The Politics of Like, Don't Like, and Neutral

It's election day here in the U.S. I went to vote, and had a short discussion with a couple of friends about some of the candidates. That said, electoral politics here in the United States are in a pretty sorry state, with two corrupted parties that are tossed in and out of office every few election cycles by an increasingly sound-byte influenced public. Yesterday, I thought about writing some scathing stuff about all of this, and end it by calling for more grassroots action that transcends party lines. But I've done that before, and will probably do so again. Today, though, I'm not going there.

Here are three posts about voting from other members of the Buddhoblogsphere. This one I like. This one I don't like. And this one I'm fairly neutral about.

Like. Don't like. Neutral. These are the three base-level feelings we experience about everything in our lives. Peel off the skin of any emotional response and you'll find these at work.

If we learn to let these three just come and go, a lot of trouble can be avoided. A simple example from my own life might help illustrate this. As a lifelong bicyclist in a city, I have had my struggles with cars and traffic. Even when things are well marked for different kinds of vehicles, it's still the case that bicycling in the city isn't terribly easy, and planning and design work almost always privileges motorized vehicles over bikes and pedestrians - at least here in the U.S. For many years, I biked with a deep resentment towards motorized vehicles, regardless of what they were actually doing in any given moment. Someone might offer me a chance to cross ahead of them, and I'd think they were trying to shoo me through quickly, so that they could drive on. All of this stemmed from an initial "don't like" that came up again and again around motorized vehicles, and urban road planning.

About three years ago, I began cutting through the thoughts and emotional reactions that developed in response to this don't like by chanting the Jizo Bodhisattva chant while riding. Jizo is kind of an archetypal Buddhist figure that is said to protect travelers, children, the dead, and vows among other things. Chozen Bays Roshi of Great Vow Monastery wrote a fabulous book about Jizo several years ago that I was fortunate to study soon after it was published. As soon as I learned about it, I knew Jizo would be a companion on my spiritual journey.

Biking with Jizo has become a norm for me. In fact, I've noticed that the practice has become so settled within that anytime a bit of upset comes up while I'm riding, the chant just appears to support me. There's a different tenor to the experience as well. I experience the like, don't like, and neutral more clearly. Stinky alley. Don't like. Fall leaves. Like. Dog in a yard. Neutral. The coming and going of such don't spin out of control as they used to, especially the "don't like" experiences.

Do I still get pissed and reactive towards motorized vehicles at times? Sure. However, such experiences sometimes colored my entire day in the past, and now usually burn off within minutes. And when I think about it, it really comes back to this point of being able to see, and experience, these three base-level feeling tones without getting lost in emotional and thought elaborations.

Seems to me that this teaching is very useful when it comes to electoral politics. Some will like the outcome of today's vote. Some won't like it. And some, including many people outside of the U.S., will probably be neutral.

Can you see your base-level feeling here? The beauty of having a diverse set of practices to draw upon, from sitting meditation to chanting to bowing, just to name a few, is that any of these can be called upon to help cut through intense reactions that stem from the three base-level feeling tones. So, I offer you this story on election day here in the U.S. May all beings be liberated.