Blogging the Buddha Here Again!

Yesterday was my final post over at Buddhist Peace Fellowship. They have a rotating Guest Editorship that is designed to feature a new writer every quarter, and I invite everyone here to continue checking out the work over there. You can also read co-director Katie Loncke's send off post on my efforts here.

What's next isn't fully determined yet. I have a few writing project ideas, and maybe someone else will come calling for more of my work :) Meanwhile, I'll be writing here again more.

Talk with you all soon!

You and I Are Probably Both Toddlers of Zen in the Grand Scheme of Things

Yesterday's post was sort of rushed, the kind of thing that comes when you want to say something, but are struggling with writer's block.

Anyway, I received the following comment on that post:

Yes, well perhaps you should actually find "peace and calm" before you attempt to push your idea of what it is onto other people.

If you must act as a mouthpiece for the dharma, we would prefer that you had something real to say about it.

That is just a quick tip from someone who's been practicing a hell of a lot longer than you.

And in that regard, it would benefit you to be open to that which has come before you, instead of pouting and stamping your feet like an indignant toddler whenever you are presented with something outside your comfort zone. As a student of the Japanese tradition, you should already understand that kind of relationship quite clearly, if you are actually serious about such matters.

At this time, I will step aside and allow nature to take its course with you - for better or worse. Good bye and good luck.

Usually, I just leave these comments go, but for a few minutes, I was just pissed off by this one. Not because I think the other post was "wise" or great by any stretch of the imagination, but because this just strikes me as flat out trolling. The kind of thing people do to just piss others off. The fact that it was anonymous just lends to that image, as does the deliberately insulting language.

There's been more of these kinds of comments in recent months. They might be from the same person, or they might be multiple people. I don't know. I have a couple of ideas as to individuals that could be behind them, but I'm not interested in moving beyond cursory level speculation.

One thing I have witnessed in the years of blogging about spiritual practice is a lot of people quitting their blogs over these kinds of comments. They give their writing away. Give their ideas, thoughts, and experiences - however muddled - away, and in return, they're body slammed by trolls and sometime regular readers as well. I'm not talking about bloggers who write obnoxious, inflammatory content. I'm talking about sincere folks, sometimes sharing deep from the heart, or taking a risk in offering something that might not be popular.

Not all of us have the ability to shake or laugh nasty responses off. And while some may argue that you should just develop a thick skin, I argue that if you're life is devoted to spiritual practice, your comments on blog posts should reflect that. Whether my words are soft and supportive, or more harsh and questioning, I try to consider how the other person will take them. Try to see if what I have to say might actually be about communication, and not just bashing someone on the head.

Anonymous, calling me an "indignant toddler" is an asshat move. You want to teach me something? Leave the insults out. If you think I'm a lost cause, that's fine. I never claimed to be an enlightened spokesperson for the practice. I'm a regular practitioner like most of the other readers here. Which I think you believe is a much higher number than it actually is. If your greatest concern is that I'm spreading "bad dharma" - don't worry, this blog's readership is tiny. Maybe you'd be better trolling the blogs of popular dharma teachers you disagree with. It's a better use of your time than pestering a small fry like myself.

What I think some readers easily forget about bloggers is that we're humans first, with all the usual struggles and maladies. Not every post is going to be gleaming with brilliance. Not every post is going to inspire nodding heads, even from the most aligned of readers. Furthermore, and perhaps most important, is the fact that we bloggers - even the most prolific amongst us - rarely cover the full spectrum of our thoughts and experiences of our chosen topic(s).

I'm well aware that public writing can give rise to all sorts of ego trips. I also am aware that I sometimes write contentious posts, during which I sometimes overstep the lines of what I know and don't know in terms of practice. As such, I'm grateful to regular readers who share a different take, show me where I've missed something, or even call out ways I might be violating the precepts I vow to uphold (Marcus, a former regular commenter, instantly comes to mind here.) There are times when even these kind of harsh, not terribly caring comments can arouse gratitude within me. But most days, I just think of all the folks who have quit writing, quit sharing their voices because they felt harassed and hated.

This post isn't a plea for personal sympathy. I've been a public writer for years, and rejection in its various forms doesn't destroy me. No, it's more a plea for more respectful discourse. Online and off. We can stand tall in very different positions and views without tearing each other to shreds. When I consider peace and calm, the ability to do this is one of the main things that comes to mind.

I vow to keep bringing this to mind, again and again, instead of letting the heat of emotion carry the day. That's all I really have to offer today. May you all be well.

Blogging the Buddhist Near Enemies

There's a good post over at the blog Recovering Yogi about blogging and the Buddhist teaching on the near enemies. Here's the selection I want to consider.

This brings me to the topic of blog comments. A unique phenomenon relatively new to our internet culture, blog comments take the concept of the letter to the editor and make it immediate, anonymous and lethal. There is a fine line between contributing to a discourse and using your opinion to skewer someone else’s feelings. And nowhere does that skewering show itself as more insidious than when the blog comment comes from a place of pity.

In Buddhism they talk about near enemies.

“The near enemies are qualities that arise in the mind and masquerade as genuine spiritual realization.” (citation) Near enemies are the ways an amateur Buddhist might behave under the guise of being “mindful,” without quite grasping the concept in its entirety (which we could have compassion for, natch).

Compassionate, but clear and direct blog commenting is an art. Something I have spent a fair amount of time practicing, both in responding here on DH, but also in comments left on other blogs. Given that whatever we offer is there for anyone around the world to look at, I do think it's smart to be careful what you are doing. No doubt the flamewars some folks have engaged in online have led to some pretty nasty outcomes. Divorces. Job loss. Family rifts. Perhaps even some violent attacks and murders. Beyond any direct correlations though, there's also the general dispersal of negative energy that happens whenever people leave comments that personally attack or demean others, or which are designed not to add to a conversation or challenge an idea or set of facts, but is simply about derailing or diminishing a discussion.

It's so easy to let it rip online, thinking there aren't any "real world" consequences, but that kind of thinking is flat out wrong.

On the other hand, I have noticed that some people err too much on the opposite extreme. Trying too hard to not offend, to appear compassionate, and that as such, whatever they've written is undermined. Sometimes, you misread the emotional state of a blog author or another commenter, and then respond as if they are really angry, or sad, or upset in some way. And they weren't when they wrote whatever it was that they wrote. I've had a few blog posts over the years solicit highly concerned reactions from readers and even a few family members. Posts that were about me trying to write out what I was struggling with, but which weren't indicative of something serious, like thoughts of suicide (yes, that, among other things, has come up.)

What's curious about blogging and commenting is that a percentage of it involves sharing things really publicly that people in the past tended to not share that way. Perhaps they would never say such things. Or only share with people that they were most intimate with. But now we have these ways to offer up whatever we are thinking and feeling - right now - to whomever. Some of us use our real names, and some lurk behind anonymous tags and images, but regardless, there's still this feeling of sharing and wondering how people are going to take it. Maybe it's less dramatic for those who are writing and commenting anonymously, but I'd argue it's still present for them too. Go check out any hot political or relationship blog and you'll see endless amounts of passionate debating, often amongst people whose comments are not really traceable.

I think most people haven't really caught up emotionally, or even intellectually, to what we are doing online. Which is why using the near enemies as a guide while writing and commenting are helpful.

Are you attached to your views? Are you indifferent to the feelings of other commenters or the main blogger? Do you feel envious of another commenter or blog writer for some reason?

I offer this practice for folks to work with. Take the next week or two and notice what you see.

As always, comments are welcome.

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:

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.

"Gratitude Solves All Problems"

Over the past year, I have been collecting the blogs of people living "alternative" forms of career. Or, you might say, doing lives in a form different from the wage an hour, 9-5 setting. One thing I've noticed amongst nearly everyone writing these blogs is a passion for life that bleeds through their words. Even when they're writing about something miserable, about some form of suffering, there's still an energy quality present that I find myself attracted to. An underlying joy or ease perhaps? I haven't quite pinned it down, and don't think "it" ever will.

One of the blogs I follow is called "Zen Habits." It's author, Leo Babauta, is clearly influenced by Buddhism, although I don't know whether he actually practices or not. This is what he says his writing is about:

"Zen Habits is about finding simplicity in the daily chaos of our lives. It’s about clearing the clutter so we can focus on what’s important, create something amazing, find happiness."

Now, much can be said about what might be called the "simplicity movement." I know Katie over at Kloncke once made some astute criticisms about how simplicity advocates tend to speak to middle and upper class folks, and often fail to comment on forms of systemic injustice that often stand in the way of poor and working class people benefiting. Another way to look at it is that it's often an individualist or nuclear family centric approach.

So, wit that said, I like Leo's blog because while it does appeal to that middle class, consumerist crowd in need of "downsizing" their attachments to stuff and other clutter, it's not limited to that. Some of the articles could easily be used by someone who is totally broke and trying to figure out how to financially support themselves in a more beneficial manner. And some of the posts are simply redirecting our attention, drawing from Buddhist and other spiritual teachings.

Anyway, I don't want to just plug Leo's blog here, but to bring up what he wrote in a recent post.

Gratitude solves all problems. I am grateful for having this friend, or stranger, in my life, and I’m grateful for the chance to even be here, and for the incredible life I have.

Sounds really simple, doesn't it? Also might sound like nonsense to the practical mind. And it's true, "problems" in the relative sense don't get "solved" by simply being grateful. I've spent large chunks of time down at our Occupy Wall Street offshoot in Minneapolis this past week precisely because there are complicated social issues that need to be approached in a radically different manner.

However, go back to that first sentence. "Gratitude solves all problems." I think this is a perfect way to describe the tapping into one's buddhanature. The universal energy flowing through everything all the time. That "place" where it is all ok right now.

Gratitude breaks through suffering. I've felt that over and over again in my own life. May you have as well. And for all of our ability to produce endlessly "profound" spiritual teachings as a species, it so often does come back to something simple that we can rely on. Trust in. While working to address all the complications standing before us.

So, bows to Leo for the reminder. May you all experience gratitude today.

"Life is One Continuous Mistake"

David over at The Endless Further had a bit of a run in with comment responding yesterday.

He writes:

In response to yesterday’s post, someone left this comment, “based on this you just might be a stream entrant who just doesn’t know it yet.” Now, I don’t know if he was being sincere or not. It occurred to me that it might not be a compliment, but I figured he probably meant well. Anyway, it’s late in the evening here and I had a brief moment of flippancy and unfortunately it ended up in my reply. It was a small attempt at humor, apparently very small . . . and he took it the wrong way.

You know, I get so few comments that when one comes in I really hate to screw it up.

I have totally been in this position, and I'd imagine anyone who has blogged for awhile, and has a regular readership, probably has also been here. If, that is, he or she has been paying attention, and is operating out of sense of care for those who come to these spaces.

There are so many things that can get confused when it comes to blog commenting. One or both people misread what is said. A reader says something that sounds like an insult to the blog writer. A writer says something that sounds like an insult to a reader. Humor misfires. Words or concepts aren't clear, or are not understood by one or both participants. A person responds to a comment not directed at them. The list is kind of endless.

This is the comment David received from reader Mike:

based on this you just might be a stream entrant who just doesn’t know it yet

Now, for those of you who don't know, stream entry is considered to be one of four levels of awakening along the Buddhist path. And as such, it is usually a mark of someone who has dedicated him/herself to practice, and demonstrates a fair amount of depth and insight. You can learn more about the four levels here.

However, it's also the case that stream entry, being the first level amongst the four, has been a site of ridicule, a sort of punching bag if you will in some of the classical Buddhist teachings. Those considered stream enterers are sometimes set up as foils to others who are "further along" on the path, and so it's possible to view a comment like the one Mike made as a form of insult, knowing it's use in the teachings.

Beyond that, it's even more likely the case that people leaving clipped off comments like that are merely trolling, looking to stir up trouble. Faux compliments are standard fair amongst trolls, and in the Buddhist blogosphere, dropping lines about a writer's wisdom, enlightenment, or insight are commonplace. So, those of us who have been around awhile, reading and writing blogs, are gonna wonder about any such comment, especially if it isn't backed up or elaborated on. This is especially the case with someone who has rarely or never commented on our blogs before.

The way I see it, the back and forth that followed Mike's initial comment demonstrates both the easiness of making errors online, but also the willingness on both sides to return to practice and to respond out of a position of caring and listening. It's really in that kind of way that we are actually living our lives fully, and not doing whatever to protect our small selves and "precious ideas." David and/or Mike could have simply decided to flip off at the other, again and again, until one or both grew tired of flinging insults and projections. But they both didn't.

The rest of us can learn from that as well. It's not just the perfectly handled comments, or blog posts, that offer wisdom. This is something I have learned through doing this blog the past two and half years.

Interactive Blogging

Hi Everyone,

I thought I would write today's post in the form of a letter. A recent post by Peter over at Moment by Moment got me thinking about blogging, audience, and what it is we're doing here anyway. I say "we" because my writing and your reading (and commenting) go together. They aren't separate. People like to talk about "my blog," but actually there is no "my blog" anymore. The moment I started putting it out there, and the first of you started reading it, it became something else.

This morning, I read several blog posts that I could have offered commentary on, or simply shared with you all. There's some "hot button" stuff about race and Buddhism out there right now, as well as a few lovely posts contemplating the planet and practice, just to name a few places I might have gone.

But what I keep going back to is the participatory nature of blogging. The shared experience that too often, we fail to acknowledge. Although I haven't joined in on it, I have always admired the "post swaps" that Nate from Precious Metal has organized. And others, like Al who created The Zen Community, seem to understand the interactive quality of blogging, and are interested in elevating the "community" element of what we are all doing.

So, in the spirit of that, I thought I would open the floor to suggestions from the readership.

Is there any burning topic you'd like to see me address on Dangerous Harvests?

Are there any past posts you'd like to see revisited and maybe updated on here?

Is there anything else you can think of that might enliven the general experience for readers here?

As I stated above, I had plenty of things I could have written about today. Although I don't away have a ton to say, the well certainly hasn't run dry. In fact, I'm considering some ideas behind the scenes that might expand what I'm doing online, but would enjoy hearing from you all as well.

Happy Friday! All the best,
Nathan

"A Gay Girl in Damascus" - A Blogger's Response

As a blogger who aims for integrity, and views blogging as part of his spiritual practice, I have found myself drawn to the discussion around the blog "A Gay Girl in Damascus." Obviously, things have gotten pretty awful over in Syria, and there's no way to know if it will take a turn for the better anytime soon. "A Gay Girl in Damascus" became an overnight sensation, gaining a large following, as well as positive coverage in the mainstream, "western" media. In fact, when the blogger was reported kidnapped a few weeks ago, thousands of GLBTQ folks and their allies hit Twitter, Facebook, and other social media outlets, creating petitions and writing impassioned pleas in hopes that it might lead to the woman's safe return.

As the protests and Syrian government crackdown advanced, the blog seemingly offered a window, from the point of view of someone whose very existence is considered immoral by many in her society. There was only one problem. Last week, the Washington Post revealed that the blog was a fake, and that it's author was a 40 year white male from Virgina.

The man, Thomas MacMaster, wrote an apology on his blog which included the following:

“While the narrative voice may have been fictional, the facts on thıs blog are true and not mısleading as to the situation on the ground,” he wrote. “I do not believe that I have harmed anyone — I feel that I have created an important voice for issues that I feel strongly about.”

When I first heard this, I thought, yeah, right buddy. Then I thought, but maybe he did open a space for dialogue on some of the issues brought up in the blog. And then I started reading some other reactions to the whole thing, as well as seeing more of what the guy has said about his blog, and all I have left now is a sick feeling in my stomach.

Consider this, from an article on the webjournal Colorlines:

Yesterday Salamishah Tillet, the anti-rape activist, Africana Studies professor and a friend whom I can say I’ve seen in person, texted me about how the MacMaster and Graber hoaxes remind her of the 1838 James Williams Slave Narrative most likely penned by a white abolitionist.

“Like in the controversial and fake 1838 ‘Narrative of James Williams,’ these [modern] white men posing as oppressed people makes it even harder for people to take ‘real’ concerns, demands and freedom writing seriously,” she wrote. (Seriously, she texts this way!) “Now, actual Arab lesbian bloggers will have to go to greater lengths to prove that they are in fact Arab and lesbian, and they’ll have to prove why their radical to liberal politics should be taken seriously. Aaargh.”

Or this, from the magazine Just Out:

nothing about the progression MacMaster describes in his apology letter seems accidental. While misrepresenting himself in online discussion forums may have begun as a relatively benign experiment, no one forced MacMaster to contribute columns to Lez Get Real as Arraf, to create a blog to support the false identity or to accept interview requests with major media outlets like CNN and The Guardian.

McMaster, who admitted he “enjoyed ‘puppeting’ this woman who never was,” even went so far as to establish involved online relationships with Sandra Baragria, a Canadian woman sometimes identified as Arraf’s girlfriend, and Israeli blogger Elizabeth Tsurkov.

The whole thing reeks, absolutely reeks of privilege. White privilege. Male privilege. Class privilege. And straight privilege.

Beyond that, however, it is incidents like this that make it even more difficult for a blogger who might have something vitally important to say to be taken seriously. For all the inroads bloggers have made in recent years, blogging is still commonly considered to be solely the stuff of vanity writers and nerdy hobbyists.

My own experiences here on Dangerous Harvests have turned me from a curious dabbler into a spiritually-motivated blogger. Readers and fellow bloggers have reminded me in various ways of the value that patience, fact checking, and compassion have in creating material that supports the kind of world I wish to live in. Even though this blog is a fairly small pea in the huge pod of the blogosphere, I feel a compelling responsibility as a Zen practitioner, yogi, and writer to offer a blog with integrity, to avoid misrepresenting who I am, and to respond to comments with respect and honesty, even if the same hasn't been given to me. It's not always easy, and sometimes I flop a bit, but that's all part of the process as I see it.

Perhaps MacMaster's blog can be used as a tool for speaking up about the value of blogging with integrity, and as a demonstration of what can happen when integrity is tossed aside.

Being An Online Buddha

*This may just be the guy behind all of those anonymous comments you are receiving.


I'd like to point out a pair of good posts on social networks and online identity. Petteri attempts to map out how his experience online has been, and how he might go forward online in the future. In addition, there's a reflection in the comments section on the social pressures and potential behavioral controls contained within groups like Facebook, Twitter, and even amongst us bloggers.

Petteri and commenter Nella Lou both talk about culling down online connections, and trying to be more focused. I can relate to this. Although perhaps in my case, it's been more that my reading and responding activities have been shifting, and - thankfully - I'm finding it much easier to opt out of online dramas, and to drop off attention to blogs and connections that just serve as diversions or do nothing but stir up emotional reactions.

Katherine has a totally fascinating post about anonymity and identity online. One thing that really rang true for me is a sense of being accountable for your words and actions online, and that doing things like commenting anonymously often are motivated by a desire to hide something. Not only do people act poorly while anonymous, but some also act overly polished, portraying themselves as almost enlightened figures.

And then there is this:

Online, I am drawn to those who allow themselves to be vulnerable and to those who engage in meaningful, personalized dialogue, by way of comments in various platforms. Recently, I also noted how much more connected I feel when someone uses my first name–especially if emphasized, i.e., more than just in the greeting–in our interactions. And as a Buddhist practitioner, it has become virtually untenable for me to be anything but integrated in my online activities.

I feel the same. In fact, I find that even when someone fiercely disagrees with me online, when it's a someone who has a name and a face - someone who's blog I have read or someone who I know in my everyday life - it makes the exchange more intimate. It might also be more painful to go through as well, but that's the risk of vulnerability.

Anonymous comments often feel more abstract, even if they are filled with wonderful reflections. The same goes for anonymously run blogs, especially if those blogs rarely or never delve into the author's personal life. I have actually read a few blogs by people who leave no particular identity traces in their blog profiles, but who are so expressive and intimate in their writing content that it doesn't matter. However, the more intellectual, philosophical or political blogs run anonymously just aren't as compelling to me, and I sometimes wonder what an author's motivations are to keep their identity hidden.

Saying all of this, I also feel that for people who are in dangerous territories - like in extremely oppressive countries or someone writing about abusive relationships while trying to get out of one - anonymity is quite appropriate.

So, overall, what interested me about both of the posts I linked to is a sense of examining one's motivations for online activity, and trying to apply the wisdom of our spiritual lives to whatever we are doing here.

Mindfulness and the Body

During our core session at yoga teaching training last night, we were working on alignment in standing poses. Given the way the schedule has fallen, I have also attended two other classes focusing on alignment and adjustments in - you guessed it, standing poses. So, I'm more aware of the differences between standing and sitting, for example, right now. There's nothing terribly profound about that, but it's still interesting.

As you may have noticed, I have had a lot of posts up over the last week, and many of them were dealing with heavy subject matter that brought up some reactions. Reactions from readers and reactions from myself. But what I noticed yesterday was the postures my body was taking, while writing, while considering what I was reading, while sitting on a crowded bus.

When I reading something I didn't agree with, or was confused by, there was a tension in my stomach and I was more hunched down towards the computer screen. When I was intent on making a point during a particular comment, I felt pressure in my fingers and neck, and leaned in even closer to the screen. While on the bus, I noticed a desire for more space competing with attempts to squeeze my body inward and become smaller. And after all of that, I arrived at yoga training, was asked to do Warrior pose, and the teacher noticed right away how tense my shoulders were.

The thing is, I wasn't really upset, anxious, sad, or angry while reading and writing online. And the bus ride wasn't that bad, but perhaps the combination of three or four hours of poor body posture and a dislike towards feeling "boxed in" led to the struggle between body and mind I was experiencing. However, what is true is that I wasn't paying very close attention to body posture, only glimpsing it now and then as I got lost in what was happening around me. While I might have been mindful about choosing my words, and interacting with others when there were others to interact - I was mostly mindless about the body, as if it wasn't even there.

The Kayagata-sati Sutta has this to say about mindfulness and the body:

"There is the case where a monk — having gone to the wilderness, to the shade of a tree, or to an empty building — sits down folding his legs crosswise, holding his body erect and setting mindfulness to the fore. Always mindful, he breathes in; mindful he breathes out.

"Breathing in long, he discerns, 'I am breathing in long'; or breathing out long, he discerns, 'I am breathing out long.' Or breathing in short, he discerns, 'I am breathing in short'; or breathing out short, he discerns, 'I am breathing out short.' He trains himself, 'I will breathe in sensitive to the entire body.' He trains himself, 'I will breathe out sensitive to the entire body.' He trains himself, 'I will breathe in calming bodily fabrication.' He trains himself, 'I will breathe out calming bodily fabrication.' And as he remains thus heedful, ardent, & resolute, any memories & resolves related to the household life are abandoned, and with their abandoning his mind gathers & settles inwardly, grows unified & centered. This is how a monk develops mindfulness immersed in the body.

"Furthermore, when walking, the monk discerns, 'I am walking.' When standing, he discerns, 'I am standing.' When sitting, he discerns, 'I am sitting.' When lying down, he discerns, 'I am lying down.' Or however his body is disposed, that is how he discerns it. And as he remains thus heedful, ardent, & resolute, any memories & resolves related to the household life are abandoned, and with their abandoning his mind gathers & settles inwardly, grows unified & centered. This is how a monk develops mindfulness immersed in the body.

When I am intensely interested in something intellectually. Or when I am really struggling to accept thoughts, emotions, or events in my life. It is at these times the most that I revert back to the old mind/body splitting that is common in our society. The years of Zen training and yoga practice have broken through a fair amount of this conditioning, but it's kind of like a dandelion - you can cut it back again and again, but just a little water will make those roots sprout right back up.

A few nights ago, I was waiting for a bus on the way home from another yoga training class. Under the street light, my eyes traced the cracks in the road, appreciating the texture, as well as the image as a whole. It was the kind of thing I curse at while biking sometimes, mostly out of worry about an impending flat tire. But at that moment, there was nothing but breathing in, breathing out, broken asphalt and smooth asphalt.

In a sense, everything else was abandoned as I stood there. And in that abandonment, all could be taken in fully.

This is what I think is missed when things get split off. When the mind cuts off the body. Or when you try to cut off the mind.

It's in the functioning all together, that an awakened life is lived.



* I took the photo recently in a cobblestone alley.

Narratives in Blogging on Social Issues

To those who have been reading my comments in relation to disaster relief, and few clarifications.

1. I am not blaming the Red Cross for all ills that occur after natural disasters.

2. I am not advocating that locals in disaster areas should do all the work themselves, and that "outsiders" are just a problem.

And most importantly 3) When writing about social issues, I tend to focus on areas I feel either aren't being explored, or are underexposed views. Sometimes, they are the views that I prefer, and sometimes they are ideas that I'm trying to understand better through writing about them, and may or may not see them as "my take on things."

I see this both as a practice of trying to "see more of the whole" myself, and also as a way to offer something to others that isn't repetition of what's already out there. One thing I have learned from Zen is to interrogate personal narratives through questioning, problematizing, and letting them go. And I extend this practice to everything else.

One dominant narrative around natural disasters is that "experts" and "professionals" should run the show because they know what to do in such situations. I see questioning that as practice, not just in terms of offering a different view on the particulars of natural disaster work, but also because it helps train my mind to question narratives. In other words, even if some of my conclusions about the particulars in Japan end up being wrong, the practice of investigating the story, researching other views, and checking my own biases is beneficial. In addition, I'd like to think that in offering viewpoints that are not mainstream, and that perhaps even are uncomfortable to hear, I am offering others the opportunity to reconsider whatever story they have around an issue.

Sure, I like it when others agree with me, but in the end, if whatever I write both gets readers' minds turning, and/or aids in loosening the grip readers' have on their view - then I'm happy.

And when I receive respectful and thoughtful disagreements in the comments section, this offers me the opportunity to experience that which I am sending out.

Anyway, I think it's helpful sometimes to share the process behind the process of writing.

Sweeping Zen Needs Your Help

Sweeping Zen, a virtual warehouse of all things Zen, is quickly becoming a great resource for folks interested in the convert Zen world. Adam Tebbe, the editor, has spent countless hours doing interviews with Zen teachers, assembling links to various Zen communities, collecting teacher bios, and many other things. He's currently trying to raise a little money to support hosting the website. His ask is quite modest, and I figured I'd offer my readers an opportunity to help Adam grow this resource.

Here's an excerpt from his current post:

This website has been growing in popularity, which is a wonderful development I’ve been working toward for the last two years. From month to month we receive more visitors and, recently, there has been a huge spike in visitors averaging about 1000 visitors per day this month. That is encouraging and I hope to see this trend continue. The problem may be remedied by a simple cache mechanism being put in place. However, with 72 hours to bring down CPU, my goal is to have a backup plan (ie., dedicated server for hosting). If we garner enough monthly support I will upgrade to a dedicated server as we’ll need one at some point in the future, given the trajectory of statistics.

I have considered adding a pay pal button to Dangerous Harvests, in part because I haven't been working for the last five months, and so money is going out, but not really coming in. Making money on this blog was never on the radar before, and I'm still not terribly concerned about it one way or the other.

But I do like to support my fellow bloggers out there, many of whom graciously share their experiences, research on topics, and questions about life to all of us, and who rarely ask for anything in return. Adam's blog is one of those, so if you have few bucks, send it his way. Thanks.

"Engaged Buddhism" isn't as popular as some of you think

I have been doing a little debating with Harry over at Bodhi Armour in response to a post about Engaged Buddhism. The blogosphere isn't always an accurate representation of Buddhism. For one, most of us linked together are operating in one language. If you reviewed a collection of Chinese blogs about Buddhism, or Spanish blogs about Buddhism, conclusions about the practice might be quite different. In addition, given the ever fluctuating nature of blog-land, what gets attention and what doesn't changes rather quickly. I remember there being more blogs and even a few discussion boards about Buddhism and environmental issues maybe a year and a half ago. Not as much today. I also recall seeing at least half a dozen regularly updated blogs reviewing ancient Chan and Zen texts (sans Dogen), but those have mostly gone away as well.

Given this, it's fair to say that while there is currently a good amount of writing in the Buddhoblogosphere around what's called "engaged Buddhism," this isn't necessarily an accurate reflection of what's going on in Buddhist communities. Nor is it guaranteed to be a staple of Buddhist blog land in the future.

So, consider this as you read this, from Harry's post:

There's a big hue and cry about 'compassion' and being an 'Engaged Buddhist' coming out of the US. Now, I'm not going to say that there is not merit in that, that it's not a 'good thing', but the transmission of Zen truth is not of one flavour, is not of one point of view, value system, moral code, and is never yoked to a code or creed or accumulating merit. This is its nature and its standard is free action, free conduct, that is responsive to the real situation, not to some 'Engaged Buddhist' set of ideals or compassion club or other movement... don't make me dig out all the koans!

I agree with Harry - and - would point to the fact that Zen emphasizes the importance of "containers of practice." That the structures of zazen, bowing, chanting, sutra study, etc. are the platform from which our awakening can spring forth. They aren't fixed, always required forms - but it's very difficult to embody Buddha's teachings without working from some kind of formal platform some of the time. And I'd say the same is true of social action, social engagement. If you don't individually and as a group have some set of ethics, values, and concrete directions guiding what you're doing, it's really hard to actually act well in the world. The abstractions are never the person, place, or thing you are faced with in the moment, but they are the moon pointers, to borrow a common Zen phrase. Just as sutras, koans, and poems are moon pointers in our practice.

Part of my initial response to Harry's post was this:

What I find disappointing is that most of the blogger critics of engaged Buddhism know little about it. And you know, taking shots at social action work is as old as the hills.

Honestly, I have seen a fair amount of bogeyman making - people conjuring up socially conservative Christians or Muslims - and suggesting that any link between religion/spiritually will lead to the kinds of oppression and righteousness that have come from segments of social conservative groups that get into political power. Harry doesn't do the bogeyman thing, which I thank him for.

Beyond the boogeymaning, though, I see a lot of ignorance about engaged Buddhist projects and issues. Tends to be that Bernie Glassman or a few others are upheld, and then their associations with dubious funding is raised, and swift dismissal of the whole works follows. I have offered numerous links to engaged Buddhist projects and writers, as have people like Maia and Nella Lou, just to offer two examples. I sometimes wonder if critics bother reading any of this stuff, or looking into the actual work being done.

In response to my initial comment, Harry wrote, in part, the following:

As part of our professional social care study/training we explore the whole concept and practice of 'help' via a process of critical reflection: Are we being genuine? Are we projecting our values onto those we are 'helping'? Are we discriminating/oppressing the 'helpee' is any way known or unknown to ourselves due to our perceptions and values and assumptions? Is the concept of 'help' even useful...?

I don't hear much of anything approaching such important considerations in the Enagaged Buddhism adventure. I see a lot of assumptions and spurious values though.

I just find it questionable is all, but I don't mean to tar everyone with a brush. At the same time, the people who are genuinely 'engaged', if you like, really won't give much of a shit about what I think or say about what they do!

I completely agreed with him that the notion of helping, as well as intentions behind any given project or social change effort must be seriously questioned and examined. In addition, it should be routinely reflected upon during the work being done. I recall a point during the work I did with ESL students where one of my co-workers, who had come to the U.S. from Thailand as a child, told me "Your students have to make their own mistakes. You can't save them from that." I was lamenting the loss of students to meatpacking jobs that took them away from their studies and from their families in many cases. Her comment broke through a "helping" view that I had failed to see, and it was something I would return to again and again whenever some issue came up, or some action (like lobbying elected officials) came up.

Coming back to the title of this post, the fact is that in American convert Buddhist communities, and perhaps convert communities across the "West," engaged Buddhism actually isn't that popular. One of the reasons I started this blog was to consider social action and Buddhist practice, and to learn, through my own writing and others, how such work might be done. Several years ago, there was a small uptick in discussion around issues of war and peace related to Iraq. At that time, a tiny group of us got together to try and resurrect the local Buddhist Peace Fellowship, and perhaps coordinate some response to the war. We had two meetings. There were four of us, I believe. That's it.

Harry's role as doubter of validity here is entirely commonplace. Many doubt by saying nothing about social issues in Buddhist contexts. Some others vocally demand a complete separation of Buddhist practice from social issues. Still others offer a bit of sympathy, but that's about all.

I wrote:

But you know, your role as one who finds it "questionable" is vastly more commonplace than those Buddhists who are out there arguing blindly to "help others" through larger scale social engagement projects. After almost a decade of practice in a Soto sangha, as well as significant interaction with three other Zen sanghas in my area, I'd say at best, 10 percent of practitioners have any interest in combining Buddhist teachings with social action work. Plenty of people give money to charities, or volunteer once a year in a soup kitchen, but whenever the larger scale projects or even views about social issues come up, I can feel the aversion energy rise in the room.

Most of the time, what I hear from fellow practitioners are calls to just sit, just study the sutras, and to do whatever else on our own time. This is quite a privileged view in my opinion. During the Vietnam war era, just to give one example, members of Thich Nhat Hanh's order routinely risked their lives to work with people in the poor villages that were under constant threat from all sides of the military conflict. At the same time, they supported wounded soldiers and others from both North and South Vietnam without discrimination.

Yes, this is an extreme example, but there are plenty of others coming from Buddhists not under such dire conditions all over Asia.

I actually think part of reason there are Americans crying about lambasting of engaged Buddhism, and in the process, failing to critically examine what they are doing, is that there isn't very much of it in the U.S. Convert American Buddhist communities are predominately middle and upper class white folks who are being taught by middle and upper class white folks. And their Asian teachers, who mostly arrived in the late 1950s and 1960s, downplayed social activism in part because the people who were coming to Buddhism at that time were surrounded by forms of counter-culture social activism. At that time, it was damned smart to get people to sit down and shut up. And it still is. However, one of the major flaws of that period was a lack of emphasis on ethical teachings, which led to all sorts of innner-sangha problems, never mind the rest of the world.

In terms of my home sangha, we have the privilege to do zazen, study, and the rest in a safe community, where material resources are plenty. There are not regular gunshots around our zendo. We can avoid the starving, the homeless, those with untreated chronic illnesses, etc. This is true of the vast majority of American Buddhist convert communities. It's easy to say practice must "look like this" when all that other stuff is in place. However, with just a slight turn of conditions, forms of practice, and the conduct that comes with it, will need to look different.

Now, I don't want to idealize the situation in Asian nations either. There are plenty of monks, nuns, and lay folks in Asian nations that don't do much in terms of supporting their struggling neighbors, or trying to address oppressive social structures. Others, like the leadership in Sri Lanka, are those upholding the oppressive structures themselves. I'm focusing here on convert American Buddhist communities because that's where I come from, and actually have a foothold of information from which to work from.

In addition, if you look at any given convert American Buddhist sangha, there's also a percentage of people doing volunteer or social action work with secular groups, or other religious based groups. Some these folks want to maintain a separation between practice and "social engagement" activities. Others would probably have interest in doing their social engagement from a collective platform driven by Buddhist teachings, but don't have access to such a platform. The latter has been my experience for the most part.

Speaking of location, I remember some of the stories Geri Larkin, the former head teacher of Still Point Zen Buddhist Temple, shared in her books and a few talks I have heard her give. There was a deliberate choice to locate the center in the middle of Detroit, to offer dharma in a place where many neighborhoods have been mostly abandoned. There was a deliberate focus on meeting and greeting anyone who appeared in the center, or near the center, regardless of their background or interest in Zen. There was a deliberate focus on people being active in the neighborhood (and all of Detroit by extension), working in whatever ways they could to support the health and vitality of the whole. Unlike most American convert sanghas, they have dharma programs and study focused on linking Buddhism with social action, understanding that their sangha's vitality is intimately linked with the vitality of the neighborhood and city in which they are located.

I'm sure they stumble, make mistakes, and develop projects that fail, but who doesn't. I'm sure that some of their members aren't involved beyond meditation and study, which is fine too. To me, what's wonderful about their community is that they see the interconnected, and have a platform for people who are compelled to be involved in social action. Those who aren't out in the community doing support those who are, and those who are "doing," are supporting those who are sitting and studying.

This is a debate that will never end. Involvement, or disengagement from, the larger world has always been a point of contention in Buddhism. So, I offer my two cents into the pot (maybe it's 4 cents), and let what will come.

Blogs are Useless

Buddhism is a face-to-face transmission. When Buddhists say that Buddhism is not in books it's because Buddhism cannot be contained in books. Books are a good way of pointing in the direction of Buddhism. But they always fall short. Blogs, by the way, are pretty useless in doing even that much, if you ask me.

Good old Brad Warner, stirring up shit again. During the same post, he also says Buddhism is not a religion, another quality doozy.

Anyway, anyone who reads this blog regularly knows that I would disagree with Brad about his point that blogs are useless. My own experience is that this blog has become a part of my practice, and that it's pushed me to be more focused on how Buddha's teachings impact my day to day life. And writing in public about large scale social issues, convert Buddhist practice life, how sanghas function, and about my own personal life has forced me to be more attentive to it all, and also has provided another bullshit detector - all of you - in my life.

But today, I'd like to say that I also agree with Brad. It's mostly useless, in the same way that meditation is mostly useless, rituals are mostly useless, and sutras are mostly useless. Why is that? Because that which is useful is all about being serviceable for an end, or being productive somehow. In other words, it's about gaining something - and at the end of the day, there's nothing gained from blogging or meditating, for example, even if we think there is.

I suppose that could be depressing sounding. It is to the mind that was trained to be productive and useful in this society.

And yet, when I think about all the effort I have made, or have been told I need to make, to prove what I'm doing is useful and productive, it seems to be just as useless as everything else, and more harmful than some other activities because it just keeps some "I", some construction of a "me," hanging around.

Effort isn't the problem. Effort is necessary to keep life going. But effort to prove one's usefulness or value is about as helpful as reading 80 percent of the comments on Brad Warner's blog.

In case you've never visited Brad's blog, here are a few choice comments from the post I referenced. Enjoy and happy blogging!


"Help, I used the Enlightenizer™ and am experiencing anal leakage. I've just ruined my favourite brand new zafu!"

"I AM A VIRGIN WHORE!!!!!"

"I became a Self-Debunker through the Fire of belief, through research, and practice, just short of taking up rattlesnakes and drinking poison."

"I like the idea, to be blogging in a useless comment section of a useless blog.
Let us all be useless."

Blogging Retreat

Here's an interesting experiment to consider: a sangha doing a blogging retreat. Tsem Tulku Rinpoche and some of his students in Malayasia did just this over the past few days. One of his students, Jamie Khoo (aka Paris), wrote the following on her blog about the retreat:

We've had a special past week, full of everything I love - writing, blogs, pizza and air-conditioning.

Inspired by Rinpoche's blog a big bunch of us have been engaged in a special one-week retreat to study the many teachings and posts on the blog, write comments and create dialogue within the blog. It seemed a shame really that so much goodness should just stay within the blog and collect cyber dust. We felt it was time to shake things up a bit and get some dialogue and interaction going on within the blog. If we weren't going to do like Pabongkha Rinpoche and enter Lamrim retreats, then this would be the closest we'd ever get to it. It may look all shiny and sleek, pulled up my very splendid 15inch Macbook pro screen, but every post in Rinpoche's blog finds at its heart a profound Dharma teaching - it is all Lamrim, beautifully packaged for our attached and desiring 21st-Century minds.

There was a dual purpose - first, to expand our own minds and challenge us to think about the teachings on a deeper level, especially how we can apply them to our own lives. Secondly, to promote the teachings to other people; to bring more awareness to both Rinpoche and Kechara, thereby building the platform for KWPC in the future as both become more well-known throughout the world.

After a year and a half of blogging, I have learned that when you actually pay attention to what you write, how you write it, the responses that come in, and how you choose to respond to them, there is much to learn. Take a particular teaching you've been studying and try and write something about it in an engaged way that might inspire or provoke others. It's not that easy. Take a discussion you've had within your "brick and mortar" sangha and try to convey it to the world. Again, it takes some effort. Take something you've read online and try and write something else that isn't just rehash or snarky reaction. All of this is an extension of practice as I see it.

Does this replace established practices like meditation retreats? No. But I do think that there will be more of these kinds of practices developing in this 21st century digital world, and I for one think we shouldn't be afraid of such innovations, especially if they are offered along side the "tried and true" methods we already have. Frequently for me during the weekdays, it's blogging in the morning and zazen and/or dharma class in the evening.

What do you think of the idea of blogging retreats?

*photo of bloggers at work from Jamie Khoo's blog.

Will Meditation Liberate You? Part 2

The previous post had so many interesting comments, I decided to continue the discussion in today's post. Thanks to everyone who wrote in so far.

First off, part of the reason I posted The Zennist's commentary is because I found myself in agreement with more of it than in disagreement. Like many of you, I keep going back to his blog because there is something to learn, whether it be about specific sutras or teachings, or if it's just a way viewing things that helps shift my own.

In fact, because the guy takes the time to write informed posts, I find that when I disagree, there's usually something to work with just as much as when I agree with him. That's refreshing in this age of pithy sound bytes that get a reaction, but ultimately do nothing to further our inquiry into our lives.

Mumon commented:

1. American/Western Zen students generally could use more cultural and historical familiarity with how Zen actually arose. The students and teachers of old spent most of their time working, and this is where practice was.

2. In the Rinzai tradition, there's Hakuin. Hakuin was big on practice in the midst of everyday life. The Zennist is at least partially Rinzai-flavored (more Chan than Zen, if I recall correctly.) If this practice stays on the cushion you might as well be in Las Vegas.

I've written about history on this blog before as well. Particularly, when it comes to Buddhism moving into North America, and the fact that many convert Buddhists have almost no knowledge about the 100 years of practice that occurred before Suzuki Roshi and others arrived in the 1950s to herd all those hippies and Beat folks. I also have a pretty dense book on my shelf that our sangha studied years ago, which looked at the emergence of Chan historically, focusing on the ways Taoism, Confucianism, and indigenous spiritual paths influenced the Buddhism that arrived "from the west" (i.e. India). Makes me instantly think of the Sandokai, which is a fairly early teaching of the Chan (Zen) school, and clearly is indebted to Taoist sources.

Nella Lou makes an important point about the internet and assumptions about who someone is when she writes the following:

And anonymous makes a whole pile of assumptions based on entries in a very focussed blog. Just because someone doesn't spread out their entire life for worldly consumption doesn't mean that they have no life to spread out. It is not possible to say "Nah" to any of those questions since you don't know the answers. Your theory of what is and isn't important to the guy who writes The Zennist lacks any sort of substantial evidence and sounds like a projection of your own thinking on his life. A few statements on a blog do not encompass the whole by any means.

I have over 100 blogs in my list, and when I consider the nature of them individually, they range from the very academic, "heady" writing of people like The Zennist, to blogs that are very personal, full of intimate details of life and practice. All of these blogs give you a taste of what someone is like, but none of them could possibly encompass an entire person.

The older I get, and the longer I've practiced paying attention to my own life, the more it seems that any narrative I have about anyone, including myself, is partial. Surprise, even with a parent, lover, or longtime friend is readily available if only you turn a little to the left or right.

Marcus, who regularly reminds people online in various ways to return to the teachings, writes:

And the emphasis on the Sutras? Good thing. Again, studying the texts alone will not get you there, but we need signposts and they are the best we have. And their study has always been one of the main activities of Zen throughout the centuries. The Zennist, when he holds up the Sutras as a benchmark, is fully in line with the Zen tradition.

I have to say I prefer the way Marcus says it here. Frequently, I get the sense that the sutras are IT for The Zennist, which maybe isn't his point, but the way he writes (I think) makes it hard to come to a different conclusion. But Marcus' point is important, and I'd like to add to it this: Let's endeavor to be influenced by a variety of teachers and teachings - not just Dogen, or Suzuki, or Pema Chodron. Let's actually dig into some of the Pali Canon, and also those old Chinese guys like Shitou. I'm saying this knowing that some us out there are already doing this, but perhaps not enough.

Or, if it's only about the Pali Canon for you, or Dogen, or whatever - go deep, really deep.

And finally, Algernon brings up some questions I often have when it comes to these kinds of discussions.

Occasionally, when someone mentions a post like this one, I'll go read the Zennist. I do not leave comments simply because I get no indication he is interested in dialogue or other perspectives, and that's fine with me -- it's his blog.

When I have read him, very often I wonder what his sangha experiences were, positive and/or negative.

Why live? What's our job? Is our job just to understand the sutras "correctly" and that's it? What if you understand the sutras but you're such a jerk you can't love anyone or inspire them?

One of the struggles I have had with blog posts like this one from The Zennist is that the specifics of daily life feel so absent. Maybe this isn't the case, but the only really strong touching down on the ground that occurs in the post is when The Zennist speaks about meditating in an abandoned mine. I actually enjoyed that detail, but it doesn't help me make the connection between discussions of the absolute and my daily life. Somehow, in my view, when a person is Zenning (a new verb for you all :) - Somehow, when a person is Zenning they need to figure out how to demonstrate the total dynamic functioning occurring in every moment. It isn't just the absolute, nor is it just the daily, relative events and manifestations. Maybe I'm just too dense to get it in The Zennist's writing, but I often come away thinking he's leaning too heavily towards the absolute, which if you dig into any number of Zen koans, you'll find a myriad of warnings about such leanings.

When it comes to writing about Buddhism online, why do it? What's your intention? Maybe this is ground worth considering for all of us Buddhist bloggers. It might even be interesting if people wrote about their intentions on their blogs, and even offered updates when some shift occurs (because intentions do shift). As I have gone on, this blog has become a part of my practice, and so I have tried treat it as such. That's one intention for me I suppose: to blog as practice. There are others as well.

I honestly don't know what The Zennist's intentions are with his blog. As much as I quibble with some of his conclusions, I'm thankful he's been out there plugging away.

Understanding Context as a Path Towards Peace

Well, another blog post got me going this morning. Marcus, over at his new shared blog, has a quality commentary about a recent Buddhist-Christian dialogue in Korea. I firmly believe that more conversation and sharing across traditions, and beyond that, across all views, religious, spiritual, and secular, is a path towards peace. We need more shared experiences, and less boneheaded fighting, no doubt. But there are steps that must be taken to get to that shared place - it doesn't happen overnight, and it requires, among other things, deep listening to narratives that you don't want to hear.

A few comments Marcus made in his post brought forth some responses for me.

He writes:

My point is that Buddhism stands on its own three feet, and while some western practitioners automatically and instinctively look for points of contrast with Christianity, focusing on areas of convergence is a much healthier approach.

Why not just see what the moment calls for instead? Sometimes, focusing on commonalities is exactly what's called for, and sometimes the differences need to be examined.

I agree with you that there are plenty of baseless and sometimes nasty comments made about Christianity in the English speaking, covert Buddhist blogosphere. I've probably made few myself.

In contrast, many of the English-language Buddhist blogs often express a surprising degree of hostility towards Christianity. But this mostly comes from young converts with little experience of life in Buddhist countries and often with uncomfortable experiences of the Church. Such people are naturally keen to draw boundaries between the Buddhism they’ve adopted and the faiths they’ve left behind.

Maybe, although "young" might not be all that accurate. There actually aren't that many teen and 20 somethings amongst the regular Buddhist bloggers I've come across.

Also, how about the fact that you are saying all this while living in a nation that is predominantly Buddhist? I and the others from the U.S., Canada, England, Finland, etc. live in nations where the predominant religion is a form of Christianity. It's default in the way Buddhism is default in Thailand and many other Asian nations.

Why does that matter? Well, we are surrounded by people who display all manners of the Christian faith so to speak, and their actions often directly impact us, for better or worse. Nearly every elected leader in the history of my nation has been Christian, and while some have been just fine at leading without trying to impose religious views on the public, others regularly have made impositions. Our mainstream media outlets have few Buddhist representatives, and even though the Tiger Woods and Brit Hume dramas were mostly drama, they did point out the serious lack of representation in the media of people who have any understanding of Buddhism. While you can easily find devout Christians in power positions of major U.S. corporations, I can't think of a single Buddhist leading a similarly placed company. In other words, when I as a Buddhist look around, I see almost no one in leadership positions that is "like me." It is challenging, in such circumstances, to maintain "the high road" of embodying peace and compassion.

I'm not providing excuses for bad behavior here. However, the context matters. Those Christians in Korea, Thailand, Japan, etc. are in the vast minority - so it benefits them to develop kind relationships with Buddhists. If things in the country turn bad, those relationships might mean the difference between freedom and oppression. Here in the U.S., in contrast, Christians need not reach out because they already are the vast majority, and hold most of the power positions. And yet, some do. And despite what you see online, some of us Buddhists reach out to develop relationships with Christians as well. Partly, I would guess, because it benefits us socially.

You know, I totally agree with you that there are similar desires for peace, joy, and awakening that play out in these two religions, and really in all of them. There are connection points, and it's worth the effort to make those connections explicitly in our daily lives.

However, whenever I see religious-based hostility, I want to understand the social context more because people aren't acting in a vacuum. If my recent discussions with a few people about the situation in Gaza taught me anything, it is that you can't get to those commonalities between groups until you understand the threat narratives, petty gripes, and disagreements between the groups. I could point out endless similarities between the Israelis and Palestinians to my Jewish friends, for example, but it wouldn't matter - they were stuck on defense of Israel mode. And these are people who live fairly privileged lives here in the U.S., thousands of miles away from the actual dangers. It isn't all that different for most of the convert Buddhists spewing stuff at Christians, or drawing distinctions in the sand. But in my view, it's way to easy to just say these people are ignorant and inexperienced, and call it a day.

All of these people are my friends, family, neighbors - if I just use their stories as examples of bad behavior (and I do this sometimes), I'm just objectifying them for my own benefit. I feel that the only way to truly develop peace, to get to those commonalities in a healthy way, is to do my best to understand where those on different sides are coming from. To listen to the narratives I find abusive, destructive, or just plain wrong. And then to be willing to present my own narratives as honestly as I can, in a spirit of sharing.

In the end, the only real commonality might just be that we are humans sharing our stories. Can I accept that? Can you?

This might be the true peace, I'm coming to see.