Hi Everyone! The weather is sunny and warming up here, so I don't want to spend all day hanging around on the computer today. However, there are some good blog posts I'd like to share before I head outside to play.
First off, I have written two posts on my new relationship blog, including a different take on the British royal wedding that just occurred. I also have put up a few poems on the creative writing blog since last I mentioned it here, for all those poetry folks out there.
Now, on to other writer's work.
Barbara O'Brien's recent post on perfection and imperfection struck a note. As a recovering perfectionist myself, I always appreciate writings that remind me to let go of some idealized image of life, and live it as it is, mistakes and all.
Algernon has some wise words on the idiocy surrounding President Obama's birth certificate. It's kind of astounding that we're still talking about it, over two years after the guy was elected, but hey, humans are talented at endlessly fixating on bullshit, aren't they?
For all of you history buffs, Kyle's recent post is brimming with interesting stuff about social and political changes that occurred in Buddhist nations as a result of events during World War I.
And finally, Emma over at Chronic Meditator recalls a story about Cambodian Buddhist teacher Maha Ghosananda and the power of group chanting during the worst of times.
Friday, April 29, 2011
Thursday, April 28, 2011
The Yoga of Non-Greed
Here are some notes I made for the presentation I gave last night at yoga teacher training on aparigraha, or non-greed and non-grasping. At the end are some questions you can contemplate and offer answers to - if you're so inclined - in the comments section. Enjoy!
Yoga Sutra II.39
aparigrahasthairye janmakathamta sambodhah
Translation adapted from T.K.V. Desikachar:
“One who is not greedy is secure. He has time to think deeply. Her understanding of herself is complete.”
There are two basic ways greed manifests.
1. Desire for that which you don’t have, or perceive you don’t have
2. Stinginess with what you do have, hording
Wants vs. Needs: This yama really zeros in on our muddy thinking around needs and wants. We frequently mistake want for need, and these mistakes are reinforced by our possession-addicted culture. What is it that you really need in life? And what do you actually own anyway?
Greed and the Material: Those of use that have a lot of “stuff” in our homes and apartments often struggle around taking care of it all. Having more might offer convenience and comfort in the short term, but in the long term, having too much often ends up draining your time and energy.
Greed and the Non-Material: The same can happen to those who don’t have a lot of material possessions, but who lust after ideas, knowledge, or experiences.
Excess time and energy might be spent on, for example, learning every possible variation of trikonasana and the history behind each variation, and then more time and energy spent on defending what you have learned. (Notice the first half of the example demonstrates desire for more, while the second demonstrates a form of stinginess.)
“The final yama in Patanjali's list is aparigraha, or nongreed. This is a very difficult one to practice, surrounded as we are with advertisements that attempt to whip up our desire for more. In some ways our society's economic system is based on greed … Greed is not just confined to material goods. We may hunger after enlightenment, difficult asanas, spiritual powers, or perfect bliss. One way to sidestep the trap of greed is to follow the advice of the sages: Be happy with what you have. This spirit of true renunciation will diminish the power of aparigraha.”
Article by Judith Lasater
Greed and Your Identity: One of the very tricky places where greed manifests is around identity. Think of all the effort you put into building yourself in certain ways, presenting yourself in certain ways, and also in trying to get rid of that which you don’t like or want about yourself. Now, certainly some of this effort is quite necessary for living a healthy, fully engaged life, but some of it is also based in greed. Holding on to certain accomplishments, skills, or personal qualities in order to impress others, fit in with a certain group, or demonstrate your worthiness is one way this happens. Another is in all the attempts to hide disliked or maladapted qualities, lack of skills or lack of accomplishments.
Ultimately, manifestations of greed are really demonstrations of a lack of faith in yourself, and in the divine of the universe. Fearing you won’t be provided for, or won’t be able to get what you do need in the present or future, you take excess or withhold too much.
“By the observance of aparigraha, the yogi makes his life as simple as possible and trains his mind not to feel the loss or the lack of anything. Then everything he really needs will come to him by itself at the proper time.” B.K.S. Iyengar in Light on Yoga
Questions:
What do you really need?
What are some things (objects or ideas/experiences) that you think you need, but actually don’t need?
Where in your yoga practice have you been letting something external define your happiness? Where in the rest of your life?
What can you do differently to practice aparigraha in these situations?
Monday, April 25, 2011
Kanzeon Zen Center Board's Response to Letter from North American Zen Teachers
Even though I have other things I would rather talk about, I feel compelled to share the current response from the Kanzeon Zen Center board in regards to the Genpo Merzel debacle. It's quite a detailed letter, which offers some clarifications that those following the story need to have.
But honestly, after reading it, I just feel sad for those folks. The broken sangha. The loss of revenue. The threats of closure. Criticisms. Suspicions. Confusions. All are very familiar to me, as a member of a sangha that went through a smaller, but similar process several years ago. We almost didn't make it, and given that Kanzeon's financial picture is probably more dire than our sangha's was, they are facing a long, tough road.
Even though I find some of the letter defensive, and frankly kind of confused, I understand the intense loyalty those who remain on the board and in the community have for their teacher. For all of his screw ups, Genpo still offered something to these students that touched them deeply. I can imagine he supported some of them when few others would, during the most difficult of times. It's hard to just turn your back on that, even when such a terrible breach has occurred.
Clearly, from the details of the letter, there's also an understanding that Genpo's Big Mind work might be the only thing that can keep the center afloat financially. Which perhaps another reason why they're so keen on keeping Genpo around right now, when it really makes more sense for him to be taking care of himself and cleaning up his life without tending to a sangha as well. The expansiveness of Big Mind has always reminded me of that Peter Gabriel song "Big Time," which really is a big poke at the love fest American culture has for all things big.
One particular section of the letter demonstrates this most clearly:
The whole thing sounds a little bit like some of the stories from corporate America during the last decade. Grossly over-extended companies bringing in tons of money from a select portion of their offerings suddenly collapse when the leader or leaders of those offerings are found to be corrupt.
In fact, even the spirited defense of the organization's work, and especially of Big Mind, sounds similar to, for example, the defenses the late Ken Lay gave of Enron. The company, which he repeated said was a good, "honest company," ultimately fell apart in Lay's view because of "public hysteria." During the Enron trials, corporate philanthropy efforts were also used as a character defense for Lay, as were appeals to his Christian faith.
I bring this up because Big Mind has always felt a little too capitalistic for my taste, and the mess left in the wake of Genpo's downfall has the look, in some ways, of a corporate crash. Which I think should give everyone in the larger Zen community pause around the ways in which sanghas are being financed, and how that might impact the nature of the group's development.
It's sad to see how much turmoil is occurring in the Kanzeon sangha, and given the public nature of the scandal, I think they are in a miserable position in terms of damage control. Nothing in the letter changes my mind about the need for Genpo to step away from teaching, and for the need to take what happened with him and others as a sign that something collectively has to be done around teachers and ethics.
However, given the very tenuous position of the Kanzeon sangha, I think all of us outsiders would do well to start offering them some metta. And wish for them that the wisdom required to move forward in a healthy way for all - the remaining sangha, Genpo, and anyone wronged - will come forth and guide them.
But honestly, after reading it, I just feel sad for those folks. The broken sangha. The loss of revenue. The threats of closure. Criticisms. Suspicions. Confusions. All are very familiar to me, as a member of a sangha that went through a smaller, but similar process several years ago. We almost didn't make it, and given that Kanzeon's financial picture is probably more dire than our sangha's was, they are facing a long, tough road.
Even though I find some of the letter defensive, and frankly kind of confused, I understand the intense loyalty those who remain on the board and in the community have for their teacher. For all of his screw ups, Genpo still offered something to these students that touched them deeply. I can imagine he supported some of them when few others would, during the most difficult of times. It's hard to just turn your back on that, even when such a terrible breach has occurred.
Clearly, from the details of the letter, there's also an understanding that Genpo's Big Mind work might be the only thing that can keep the center afloat financially. Which perhaps another reason why they're so keen on keeping Genpo around right now, when it really makes more sense for him to be taking care of himself and cleaning up his life without tending to a sangha as well. The expansiveness of Big Mind has always reminded me of that Peter Gabriel song "Big Time," which really is a big poke at the love fest American culture has for all things big.
One particular section of the letter demonstrates this most clearly:
As is well known, Roshi has been widely criticized within the Zen community for receiving large donations from people who have attended small Big Mind workshops with him. These people, almost all of them needless to say wealthy, successful in their professions or businesses, have chosen to give amounts which they could just as easily spend on other things, so that they could study with Genpo Roshi. To the best of our knowledge, not a single one has ever felt they wasted their time or money. On the contrary, they are extremely grateful, they gladly allow their expressions of thanks to be quoted, many of them have returned again for additional workshops.
On the other hand, those who criticize these events, and Roshi for giving them, have never attended them. And those who condemn them include not only representatives of the far-flung Zen world, but people in the Kanzeon community itself, the very people who are benefiting from them without realizing or acknowledging it. It is these donations that have enabled Roshi to support Kanzeon’s Salt Lake City properties, full-time staff and office infrastructure, to continue supporting residents, extending scholarships, promoting social action programs, allowing free and partial tuition to many who could not attend at full price, and, by the way, provide Maezumi Roshi’s widow Ekyo Maezumi a place to live and a salary to help sustain her. In fact, contrary to a widely disseminated but inaccurate impression, it is Big Mind that is supporting Kanzeon rather than the other way around, since the local Sangha provides only a minimal portion of the funds needed to support us.
The whole thing sounds a little bit like some of the stories from corporate America during the last decade. Grossly over-extended companies bringing in tons of money from a select portion of their offerings suddenly collapse when the leader or leaders of those offerings are found to be corrupt.
In fact, even the spirited defense of the organization's work, and especially of Big Mind, sounds similar to, for example, the defenses the late Ken Lay gave of Enron. The company, which he repeated said was a good, "honest company," ultimately fell apart in Lay's view because of "public hysteria." During the Enron trials, corporate philanthropy efforts were also used as a character defense for Lay, as were appeals to his Christian faith.
I bring this up because Big Mind has always felt a little too capitalistic for my taste, and the mess left in the wake of Genpo's downfall has the look, in some ways, of a corporate crash. Which I think should give everyone in the larger Zen community pause around the ways in which sanghas are being financed, and how that might impact the nature of the group's development.
It's sad to see how much turmoil is occurring in the Kanzeon sangha, and given the public nature of the scandal, I think they are in a miserable position in terms of damage control. Nothing in the letter changes my mind about the need for Genpo to step away from teaching, and for the need to take what happened with him and others as a sign that something collectively has to be done around teachers and ethics.
However, given the very tenuous position of the Kanzeon sangha, I think all of us outsiders would do well to start offering them some metta. And wish for them that the wisdom required to move forward in a healthy way for all - the remaining sangha, Genpo, and anyone wronged - will come forth and guide them.
Sunday, April 24, 2011
The Zen of Wild Turkeys and Snakes
It was a beautiful day here in Minnesota. Sunny. Light winds. Spring time temperatures. The perfect conditions for having encounters with other creatures!
Now, I'm not talking aliens. I'm talking wild turkeys and snakes.
After parking my bike this morning, I walked behind a construction site near our zen center. Turning the corner, I came nearly face to face with two wild turkeys. Wild turkeys sightings have become more common in the city in recent years, but I haven't been close enough to almost touch one - until this morning. As they strutted along in front of me, I just stood there, watching their funny necks move, and thinking "what is this?"
What is this? Not just the turkeys right in front of me, but the whole experience of living at that moment. Their appearance startled me out of morning sleepiness, and that general apathy we so often have towards our lives when things aren't "exciting" or "dramatic".
Apparently, being startled into the moment was the story of the day. This afternoon, as I biked on a trail along the Mississippi, I felt myself lost in gaze. The sun shining over the river, and all the little green plants shooting from the ground after a long winter were just too much. Gazing at it all as I peddled, I felt a bit punch drunk, loving spring for being spring. At one point, I vaguely saw something laying in the middle of the trail, and before I knew it, I had run over a snake.
It was a small snake, and I'm guessing I only hit it's hind end because almost immediately after I registered it's snakeness, and my tire going over it, the snake was gone into a patch of brush. I stopped and went looking for it, but couldn't find it.
Later, I took a hike in the woods - maybe a mile away from where I hit the snake. It was a section that had been partially cleared away, where shrub trees mingled with upturned soil, broken beer bottles, and chunks of stone near the river shore. I was enjoying walking around down there when a train came along the tracks and slowed to a stop not too far from me. Figuring I was trespassing, I decided to make a quick exit, walking back up the hill I had come down into the wooded patch from. About half way up, I looked down just as my foot was about to land on - you guessed it - another snake. Two in fact. Almost exactly the same size and color as the one I had hit.
I watched as the snakes slithered away, and then finished the walk back to my bicycle. No creatures were upset the rest of the way home.
Now, I'm not talking aliens. I'm talking wild turkeys and snakes.
After parking my bike this morning, I walked behind a construction site near our zen center. Turning the corner, I came nearly face to face with two wild turkeys. Wild turkeys sightings have become more common in the city in recent years, but I haven't been close enough to almost touch one - until this morning. As they strutted along in front of me, I just stood there, watching their funny necks move, and thinking "what is this?"
What is this? Not just the turkeys right in front of me, but the whole experience of living at that moment. Their appearance startled me out of morning sleepiness, and that general apathy we so often have towards our lives when things aren't "exciting" or "dramatic".
Apparently, being startled into the moment was the story of the day. This afternoon, as I biked on a trail along the Mississippi, I felt myself lost in gaze. The sun shining over the river, and all the little green plants shooting from the ground after a long winter were just too much. Gazing at it all as I peddled, I felt a bit punch drunk, loving spring for being spring. At one point, I vaguely saw something laying in the middle of the trail, and before I knew it, I had run over a snake.
It was a small snake, and I'm guessing I only hit it's hind end because almost immediately after I registered it's snakeness, and my tire going over it, the snake was gone into a patch of brush. I stopped and went looking for it, but couldn't find it.
Later, I took a hike in the woods - maybe a mile away from where I hit the snake. It was a section that had been partially cleared away, where shrub trees mingled with upturned soil, broken beer bottles, and chunks of stone near the river shore. I was enjoying walking around down there when a train came along the tracks and slowed to a stop not too far from me. Figuring I was trespassing, I decided to make a quick exit, walking back up the hill I had come down into the wooded patch from. About half way up, I looked down just as my foot was about to land on - you guessed it - another snake. Two in fact. Almost exactly the same size and color as the one I had hit.
I watched as the snakes slithered away, and then finished the walk back to my bicycle. No creatures were upset the rest of the way home.
Saturday, April 23, 2011
Conversation with Zen Master Ikkyu
A group of us had a conversation at the zen center this morning. It sounded kind of like this:
Many paths lead
from the foot of the mountain,
But at the peak
We all gaze at the
Single bright moon.
Ikkyu (1394-1481)
Oh, how things change, stay exactly the same. May you all be well.
Friday, April 22, 2011
Embodied Attention
*Body(s) by Da Vinci (1452-1519)
Yoga teacher training has been an interesting mix of confirmation, ah ha moments, and "oh, my god, I have no idea" experiences. I have felt kind of dumb and boneheaded fairly often, something I didn't anticipate happening. So, I really enjoyed reading this story about another guy's experience with yoga teacher training. Neal Pollack writes about his preparation for, and expectations of the training before he goes. And then, less than two weeks before the training is supposed to start, he pulls a hamstring that impacts his practice the entire training. Almost everything he had expected was thrown off by the hamstring pull, but it seems to have offered him a window into something greater. He writes:
It occurred to me that all matter, thoughts, and emotions are united under some sort of unknowable eternal consciousness. That perception, I thought, is the essence of yoga. But I had also experienced that perception before, and in greater depth. Frankly, I was a little disappointed that I hadn’t encountered it more fully or more often at yoga school. I paid my money, I thought. I deserve pure consciousness.
But the truth is, I don’t “deserve” anything, and that was one of the most important lessons I eventually drew from yoga school. Just like you can’t depend on your body to always be able to do the asana you were capable of when you were 25, you also can’t depend on your brain to constantly exist in the divine realization of pure awareness. When I came home, things were much the same. My kid still howled when his socks were uncomfortable. My Boston terrier still peed in the back room. I still had financial problems. People still cut me off in traffic. And all that stuff still annoyed me.
But I also found myself walking through life with a much greater sense of calm. I had certainly heard about non-attachment, to both positive and negative experiences, but now, suddenly, I began to put it into action. If I felt myself getting angry, or jealous, or otherwise mentally troubled, I would observe my feelings, even cradle them, as a famous rinpoche once instructed, but not let them rule me. For the most part, without even trying, I found myself feeling kinder and friendlier and more generous. Subtly, slowly, and by very gradual degrees, yoga was changing my very nature.
One of the things I have noticed in myself is that from the increased focus on paying attention to bodies, my own and others, I'm much more attentive overall. Feeling my way into different alignments for poses. Watching others do the same. Offering adjustments. Being adjusted. Remembering to breathe. Seeing how I stop breathing. Feeling that stopping. Seeing others stopping and starting. All of this is leading to a more embodied attention, something that didn't seem to come as easily when I was focusing primarily on zazen. In fact, when I have been doing meditation, it feels more organic and less pressured - as if I'm responding to the rhythm of my life instead of an artificial schedule.
I'm also getting to face another layer of perfectionism, which resonates well with Neal's point about the ever-changing quality of body and mind. My mind was really cloudy during last week's core class, and I responded rather confused and irritatedly to the intense yoga teacher doing the class. This week, with a clearer mind and piles of energy, her intensity didn't bother me much, and I just enjoyed myself going with the flow of class. And both of these experiences are fine.
Learning occurs in different ways at different times. And some days, you're just in a fog. It's all part of the process...
Thursday, April 21, 2011
Genpo Merzel and Soto-Shu Donation Updates
Some news on a few old stories has surfaced on posts from fellow Buddhist bloggers, so I thought I'd share that this more.
First, Jundo Cohen has an update on the questionable donation practices of the Soto-Shu for victims of the Japanese earthquake and tsunami.
This, in particular, I found interesting:
Makes you wonder what they are actually doing, doesn't it? I wrote a lot about my dislike of the ways the Red Cross uses it's funds, and won't get into that again here. However, I do think that situations like this are a good reminder to not only do your research about organizations you are donating to, but also to practice giving without attachment once you have given. Even the best of support organizations make decisions with donated money that the givers might not agree with, so while I firmly believe it's important to call out grievous acts of misuse, it's also the case that a lot of us struggle with giving as a practice.
The second updated story is about our old buddy Genpo Merzel. There is a new letter signed by 66 Zen teachers, including my zen center's leader, over at Sweeping Zen. Here are the last 3 paragraphs:
I think the lack of any official channels to deal with this - and the other similar examples - have led us to offering these kinds of statements. I support the effort to speak publicly and keep Genpo's repeated misconduct and failure to adequately address it in the spotlight. In fact, even if the letter itself isn't fierce enough, it does represent a sense that integrating ethics - especially within the dynamics between students and teachers - is something a lot of Zen teachers and their sanghas are considering seriously. More of us are less willing to just sweep this stuff under the rug, which is a definite positive.
At the same time, given the lack of an organizational channel to work on these kinds of issues, letters like this kind of have a thud energy attached to them. For example, the call to enter treatment might be a correct one, but it just feels like an abstract response to what's happened. One I have made myself in considering the Zen teacher scandals of recent years. Yet, because there isn't, for example, a national or regional Ethics and Reconciliation Council where the specifics of what happened in Salt Lake with Genpo could be hashed out, it's really hard to offer some forms of specific council without sounding overly proscriptive. It seems to me that beyond calling for Genpo to stop teaching, step away from any leadership position at Kanzeon Zen Center, and to stand behind the public declarations he made in February, we're kind of stuck because of the lack of structures.
Perhaps something like a national or set of regional Ethics and Reconciliation Councils would be a way to address the lack of structures, without developing the kinds of overbearing institutions that so many of us in "the West" abhor. For anyone interested, here are the ethical structures and guidelines we have developed and use at Clouds in Water Zen Center. We are continuing to refine the process, but one thing I like about it is that it's a mixture of formal and informal, and those who are members of the "EAR" Council are chosen from the sangha and are not considered permanent appointees.
Seems like this whole post is about dealing with situations where lack of clarity and specifics around accountability have lead to trouble. Interesting, isn't it?
First, Jundo Cohen has an update on the questionable donation practices of the Soto-Shu for victims of the Japanese earthquake and tsunami.
This, in particular, I found interesting:
I did write to Rev. Shundo Kushida of the Soto-Shu International Division (cc. Daigaku Rumme of the North America office) to ask for clarification on these matters, and to why donations which are not marked are being all diverted to "Relief funds for temples" and not "general relief". He responded by telephone to me, and seems like a nice young fellow. If I understood the gist of his statements to me, he said that he thought the English and foreign language pages were clear enough. He also said that he thought Japanese people donating to the Soto-shu would be clear that the money might be used for Soto-shu temples, so did not need further clarification. I was left with the impression that the formula advertised here for fundraising as "30% for temples, 70% to be re-donated to the Japan Red Cross" was not actually a fixed formula, and that they were deciding the uses of the money (to Shanti and the like) without being bound by that statement. He did not provide any information on the total amount raised or the amount of that used for temple relief.
Makes you wonder what they are actually doing, doesn't it? I wrote a lot about my dislike of the ways the Red Cross uses it's funds, and won't get into that again here. However, I do think that situations like this are a good reminder to not only do your research about organizations you are donating to, but also to practice giving without attachment once you have given. Even the best of support organizations make decisions with donated money that the givers might not agree with, so while I firmly believe it's important to call out grievous acts of misuse, it's also the case that a lot of us struggle with giving as a practice.
"Monks, if people knew, as I know, the fruits of sharing gifts, they would not enjoy their use without sharing them, nor would the taint of stinginess obsess the heart. Even if it were their last bit, their last morsel of food, they would not enjoy its use without sharing it if there was someone else to share it with."
Itivuttaka 18
The second updated story is about our old buddy Genpo Merzel. There is a new letter signed by 66 Zen teachers, including my zen center's leader, over at Sweeping Zen. Here are the last 3 paragraphs:
We sincerely hope you will eventually find in your heart a way to genuine repentance, and out of that follow a course of remediation that may actually lead to healing. Others have acknowledged misconduct and have made appropriate amends in the past, and been rehabilitated within the mahasangha. May you be encouraged by their example?
However, at this point we see no evidence of good faith action on your part. It seems you continue to hold yourself out as a religious leader, a Zen Master and that the Kanzeon Board has turned and followed your lead. We are concerned for people who may come to you as a Zen teacher. Those among your current students who choose to continue with you have made a conscious decision, aware, we assume, of all the facts regarding your repeated history of exploitative behaviors.
Therefore, as members of the Zen teaching mahasangha deeply concerned for the wellbeing of anyone to whom you present yourself as a Zen teacher, we feel we cannot remain silent. We need to state publicly our belief that you are not acting faithfully within the bounds of our tradition. We reiterate our call for you to enter treatment with people qualified to diagnose and address your repeated unethical and exploitative behaviors. And, we call on you to honor your commitment to step aside from Kanzeon and allow a remediation process to happen there as well.
I think the lack of any official channels to deal with this - and the other similar examples - have led us to offering these kinds of statements. I support the effort to speak publicly and keep Genpo's repeated misconduct and failure to adequately address it in the spotlight. In fact, even if the letter itself isn't fierce enough, it does represent a sense that integrating ethics - especially within the dynamics between students and teachers - is something a lot of Zen teachers and their sanghas are considering seriously. More of us are less willing to just sweep this stuff under the rug, which is a definite positive.
At the same time, given the lack of an organizational channel to work on these kinds of issues, letters like this kind of have a thud energy attached to them. For example, the call to enter treatment might be a correct one, but it just feels like an abstract response to what's happened. One I have made myself in considering the Zen teacher scandals of recent years. Yet, because there isn't, for example, a national or regional Ethics and Reconciliation Council where the specifics of what happened in Salt Lake with Genpo could be hashed out, it's really hard to offer some forms of specific council without sounding overly proscriptive. It seems to me that beyond calling for Genpo to stop teaching, step away from any leadership position at Kanzeon Zen Center, and to stand behind the public declarations he made in February, we're kind of stuck because of the lack of structures.
Perhaps something like a national or set of regional Ethics and Reconciliation Councils would be a way to address the lack of structures, without developing the kinds of overbearing institutions that so many of us in "the West" abhor. For anyone interested, here are the ethical structures and guidelines we have developed and use at Clouds in Water Zen Center. We are continuing to refine the process, but one thing I like about it is that it's a mixture of formal and informal, and those who are members of the "EAR" Council are chosen from the sangha and are not considered permanent appointees.
Seems like this whole post is about dealing with situations where lack of clarity and specifics around accountability have lead to trouble. Interesting, isn't it?
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