A Dharma of Sangha Building/Rebuilding

The post I wrote a few days ago about sangha and exclusivity certainly sparked a lot of interest. It's great to know that others out there are considering some of these issues seriously.

Here are a few of the many quality comments that are worth looking at a little closer.

Adam wrote:

I have no idea how to deal with offering Buddhism to new comers while keeping the identity and culture of Buddhism alive and well.

In a lot of ways, this is really the challenge and blessing of building Buddhist community in places without ancient, established roots. Maintaining the integrity of Buddha's teachings, and honoring those who came before and made it possible for you to live this path is an essential part of our work. This is one reason why I'm pretty hard on those who want to strip off anything they find foreign or difficult about Buddhist practice; it's just plain disrespectful to our collective ancestors. At the same time, we are always creating things anew in a certain way, even when we invoke ancient rituals and forms. And if you look at spiritual organizations who insist on keeping everything "the same" as it was in the past, they're basically dying.

Along these lines, Barry commented:

I have been thinking lately about the differences between techniques such as MBSR (and I'll include Goenka-style Vipassana in this) and more traditional practices such as Zen or Vajrayana Buddhism.

Jon Kabat-Zinn has been very careful not to overposition MBSR as anything other than stress reduction. It's a powerful tool for this function, but no one considers it fundamentally transformative.

Perhaps that's because it doesn't force us into a head-on confrontation with our attachments to opinion, views, thoughts, and beliefs.

Traditional Buddhist practices, on the other hand, shove our faces into our attachments. ("I don't LIKE chanting" is a common one.)

There's another sangha here in the Twin Cities that has done a lot of teaching around Kabat-Zinn's approach. They frequently offer classes teaching the MBSR techniques and I'd guess that a fair number of their members came precisely because of those teachings. Although the classes have been successful and people are benefiting from them, it's also the case that, as a group, there seems to be some resistance to the rituals and forms of Zen practice. Now, this is probably true to some degree for most of us newcomers to Zen to some degree. But I think that the emphases we choose to place on dharma talks, workshops, classes, and other sangha events will impact who comes, who stays, and what stories they come to believe about Buddhist practice. In other words, if it's too much about stress reduction, you'll probably get people who mostly want more of that. If it's too much about just sitting, just meditating, you'll probably get people who just want that. If it's too much about socializing and togetherness, you'll probably get more of that.

On the other hand, Robyn writes:

I say that as someone who bristled at all the bowing, robes, incense, etc.. I hated it, thought was was stupid, blah, blah, blah. It was the teacher's talks and the sitting itself that kept me coming back. Little by little, I have grown to see the wisdom and, yes, compassionate gift of all those other things.

So, it's helpful to remember that the way people see and experience things will change over time. What originally drew someone to the community might have little or nothing to do with what is benefiting them now in the same community. Our sangha's head teacher often mentions how when she first came to Zen, she wanted to get away from all the messy relationships in her life and just sit quietly. And now, she views how she does relationships with others and the world around her as the core of practice. Zazen practice is still key to her, but it's not about hiding away anymore.

My point in bringing this up is that part of life in a healthy spiritual community is placing trust in that which has been handed down to us. Generation after generation have had more awakened, more wisdom and compassion-filled lives as a result of embodying the ethical teachings and practices of Buddhism. Like Dogen's Instructions for the Zen Cook points to, there's a place for community planning and goal setting, and simultaneously, there's an opportunity to let it all go and let arise what will arise.

About an hour ago, we finished our monthly board meeting. It was one of those meetings where you almost can just sit back and watch the flowers sprouting from the soil. In February we set out to develop a strategic plan for the sangha, and now it's really happening. The Board is totally engaged and excited about the possibilities, and the discussions we are having feel directed and thoughtful in a way I haven't experienced before in my term on the Zen Center's board.

It's been a great teaching for me in embodying good old Dogen's instructions. I have put a fair amount of work into keeping things on track, but I have probably done an equal, if not greater amount, of staying quiet, listening, and not meddling with what's actually happening.

Somehow, it seems to me that this lesson of knowing how much to plan and deliberately direct, and knowing when to step back, listen, and not meddle is the very thing needed when addressing group dynamics and functioning. I remember during the class our center had on Dogen's cook instructions, someone brought up a rule of four. That is, three fourths of our time should be spent listening, observing, and not meddling. And one fourth of our time should be action-oriented. Not exactly what you think of in this face paced world we live in, is it?

And yet, I think this is a way we might better embody our teachings as we go about working within our sanghas, or offering ideas about what sanghas of the future might look like. At the end of his comment, Barry points to the newness of this whole Buddhism in "the West" project - and I think that it's worth constantly remembering that even the longest steeped amongst us - those fifth and sixth generation Chinese and Japanese Americans living all over North and South America - even they are still finding their way as members of a spiritual minority not financially or culturally supported by the society around them. Even though there are plenty of differences amongst the various Buddhist sects developing outside of Asia, this experience of being outsiders is one we all share to a certain extent.

Knowing this, I feel it's important to remember to be kind to our fellow practitioners, regardless of what tradition they practice in, or how much we might not agree with their practices. Some folks have been pretty damn hard on the Soka Gakkai communities amongst us, and maybe most of that criticism is right on, and should be considered by these groups. However, if this criticism isn't tempered with some kind of softness, some kind of compassion, then it's just more brutality in an already brutal world.

Are You Being Spoon Fed?

A good reminder from Marguerite over at Mind Deep, based on her work in a Zen Hospice program:

So many things I take for granted. Like the capacity to pick my own spoon, and the food I want to eat. Or being able to feed myself, when I want, and where I want. I am feeling so incredibly grateful!

So easy to forget all that is going well for you in this life. Frequent reminders are always helpful. Thanks Marguerite!

Is Convert Buddhism too Clubby and Exclusive?

Peter over at living and dying with eyes wide open had a post yesterday which has been hanging with me. The major thrust of the post is a questioning of the ritualistic, highly monastic forms and language found in most convert Zen communities. I appreciate his desire to open the doors to more people, and the wondering of how that might happen, but I'm also a bit troubled.

First, here's his post:

Something’s been troubling me about this thing called practice. When I first came to Zen, my personal likes and dislikes got in the way. I didn’t like chanting lines in Japanese and Sanskrit, thought there was too much bowing, too many robes, too much mumbo-jumbo. Over time that very practice has helped me to see such “obstacles” for what they are, namely ego-based impediments that have little or nothing to do with living a good life. I’m now grateful for the ethical framework that Buddhism provides. It guides me through the chaos of everyday existence and people tell me that I’ve become more gentle and less judgemental. So far so good.

Recent conversations with friends about someone they believe would “really benefit” from meditating but “won’t come for x-number of reasons” cause me look a little closer at what I take for granted. If it’s such a good thing, this practice, why aren’t more people coming to it? What gets in the way? What turns people away from trying and what, should they give it a try, prevents them from returning? What barriers might we remove to provide freer access?

In a practice that stresses non-duality and inclusivity, I’m struck by texts and images that seem clubby and exclusive. In our city (which is anything but a hotbed of Buddhist activities) meditation opportunities are offered in several flavours, including Tibetan, Shambhala, Vipassana, as well as Vietnamese, Korean, Chinese, Soto, and Rinzai Zen. Teachers sport such arcane titles as Reverend Master, osho, sensei, rinpoche, venerable, lama, priest, and roshi; others are called elders, monks, shusso, benji, doan, ino, or by given names in Asian languages. Websites refer to proper etiquette (such as when and how to bow, and which foot to put first when entering, how to hold your hands while walking, and so on). Pictures show people wearing special outfits (some crown-like hats), burning incense, bowing to statues, sitting on round cushions while facing blank walls, walking lock-step in close formation, ringing bells, hitting wooden boards, and holding their hands in what may well be prayer. Hello !!

All that so people can sit still and pay attention to their breath?

I know of formally trained teachers who have taken off their robes and offer meditation with little jargon, titles, and ritual. In some traditions, Vipassana (as taught by SN Goenka) for instance, the emphasis is on silent sitting and focusing on the breath: no Buddha images in sight. Mindfulness-based Stress Reduction (MBSR), widely used in American hospitals, teaches patients meditation techniques to help lower blood pressure and improve immune systems. Abundant research attests to MBSR’s benefits, its Buddhist roots are rarely mentioned.

I've written plenty about my disagreements with those who wish to strip everything cultural (i.e. Japanese, Chinese, Korean ...) from Buddhism to expose some "core" of practice. It's folly because everything develops within a cultural/societal framework, and although it will change whenever it moves, it still will also contain influences from its native setting. Zen itself is a hybrid - but it would be absolutely silly to suggest that nothing of Indian origins of Buddhism is left in Zen. The search for a "core" in Buddhism is as fruitless in my view as the search for a "fixed self."

What Peter is considering here may contain a bit of that flavor, but I don't think it's driven by a goal of finding some pure essence of Buddhism. Having read his blog for awhile now, I can see the deep respect he has for how he's learned to practice.

The thing I get stuck on when I consider his comments above is that everything seems to come down to meditation. Buddhist practice is more than just meditation though, as even any monastic would tell you. But just as Yoga's arrival in North America, Europe, Australia, etc. led quickly to a very heavy emphasis on asanas (physical body poses), so much of convert Buddhism has has a heavy emphasis on meditation practice.

Look. I practice Soto Zen, whose founder, Dogen, emphasized seated meditation. It makes sense that zazen would be a prominent feature. But if it was only about getting people to sit down and watch their breath, then why in the hell did Dogen write a huge pile of texts concerning ethics, relationships, ritual, work, and awakening, amongst other topics? What's the point of writing an entire manual on how to be a Zen Cook if the core practice is meditation?

The reality is that every major spiritual tradition includes some form of meditation. It's really not unique to Buddhism, and so even though people like Kabit-Zinn (founder of MBSR) took their cues from Buddhist forms of meditation, they might have produced similar results secularizing something like Centering Prayer. So, I think it's important for those of us who are interested in creating "more access" to, or "opening the doors of Buddhism to" more people, to see that meditation isn't what makes Buddhism unique.

A point I made over at Peter's blog in response to his post yesterday is that just as there are many flavors of Buddhism, so, too, are there flavors of Protestant Christianity. And just as there are many ritualistic aspects to Zen, so, too, are there ritualistic aspects to Catholicism. Clearly, this turns many off. But others thrive in it. Different flavors are needed for different people is the way I see it.

Peter writes: "In a practice that stresses non-duality and inclusivity, I’m struck by texts and images that seem clubby and exclusive."

I have been too, but in different ways most likely. Convert Buddhist communities have been notoriously race and class unconscious, for one thing. It's hard not to get a bit cynical when you step into a Zen or Tibetan center and see fifty or seventy five white, middle and/or upper class folks and a hand full of well off people of color in the room. Another thing, which my own center has addressed pretty well in my view, is stepping into a room where there are no children, few elders, no food, and little socializing at all. We have taken steps to develop a more well-rounded community, one that actually feels like a community, and not just several dozen people coming together for a few hours every week to meditate and listen to a dharma talk. We have elders. We have lots of children around. We are socializing more. We even have food to share pretty frequently now.

I love doing meditation in a group. In fact, it would be hard for me to sustain a meditation practice without access to fairly regular group sittings. After several years, I can do it on my own. But it's easier when you have a group to go to and work together with.

However, sangha is more than just silently practicing together, and I suspect that this is something Peter's post is aiming at without directly saying so. Newcomers, who don't know what's going on and feel very out of place, are probably more likely to never come back if a group doesn't have a prominent social element.

So, I'd be interested to know what you all think about this. Is convert Buddhism too clubby and exclusive? If yes, in what ways? Do you feel, like Peter, that there are too many "bells and whistles"?

Even though Buddhism has been in North America over 150 years, it's still true that it's a newcomer, and people are still finding their way. So, it's important to have these kinds of discussions, and consider what we might be leaving the generations that will follow us.

Are you an Asker or a Guesser?

Here's something fun to consider, and given the heavy posts I've made recently, might offer some of my readers a little relief. Others will long for another "deeply" considered post, which brings to mind the old adage "You can't please everyone."

Anyway, are you an Asker or a Guesser?

I found this Good over at the webzine Good. A simple name, Good, isn't it? Maybe too simple. But I'm enjoying some of the articles anyway.

Back to the question above. Here's the selection, originally from a Guardian newspaper article:

This terminology comes from a brilliant web posting by Andrea Donderi that's achieved minor cult status online. We are raised, the theory runs, in one of two cultures. In Ask culture, people grow up believing they can ask for anything—a favour, a pay rise—fully realising the answer may be no. In Guess culture, by contrast, you avoid "putting a request into words unless you're pretty sure the answer will be yes … A key skill is putting out delicate feelers. If you do this with enough subtlety, you won't have to make the request directly; you'll get an offer. Even then, the offer may be genuine or pro forma; it takes yet more skill and delicacy to discern whether you should accept."

Neither's "wrong", but when an Asker meets a Guesser, unpleasantness results. An Asker won't think it's rude to request two weeks in your spare room, but a Guess culture person will hear it as presumptuous and resent the agony involved in saying no. Your boss, asking for a project to be finished early, may be an overdemanding boor—or just an Asker, who's assuming you might decline. If you're a Guesser, you'll hear it as an expectation. This is a spectrum, not a dichotomy, and it explains cross-cultural awkwardnesses, too: Brits and Americans get discombobulated doing business in Japan, because it's a Guess culture, yet experience Russians as rude, because they're diehard Askers.

Now, I'm always wary of generalizations about entire nations. Nothing, in and of itself, "explains cross-cultural awkwardness."

But maybe we can just put that aside, and think about ourselves individually for a moment. I definitely lean towards the Guess end of the spectrum. In fact, sometimes I get frustrated that I can't just go out and ask more often.

What's interesting to me from a Buddhist perspective is that I can see attachments that can come up for both extremes of this pair. Askers probably struggle with entitlement, thinking they deserve more than they really do. Guessers, like myself, often struggle with rejection, and worries that we'll appear pushy, demanding, and unlikeable.

Yet, like any dichotomy, no one is something all of the time. In the classroom, as a teacher, I'm definitely more of an Asker. Which makes me wonder how much this has to do with power, and/or perceived power, within a given situation.

There have been many times when I've felt powerless in my life. In fact, my current work situation has brought up plenty of this feeling. And this has corresponded in a shift away from directness in general, mostly out of a fear that being direct might cost me my job.

On the other hand, as our Zen Center's board chair, I've grown comfortable enough to do the opposite. It's obvious that my sangha friends and colleagues on the board respect my work, and leadership, and so being an Asker isn't so risky.

Now, a person doesn't have to have the kind of defined power of being a Board Chair in order to be more on the Asking end of the spectrum. It's about perception as much as anything that determines our behavior. A person who has little defined power could easily be very forward with requests of others if they are tapped into an "internal" sense of power. One might move beyond the word power and speak of this as being aligned with one's buddhanature, to use Buddhist speak.

In any case, my own experience has been that when I'm trusting life as it is, I'm better able to respond to the situation at hand. And maybe that situation calls for being an Asker and maybe it calls for being a Guesser.

How about you?

Soka Gakkai, Buddhism, and Wanting to be "The Best and Only,"

Adam over at Home Brew Dharma has a heartfelt, in depth post on his experiences with a Soka Gakkai Buddhist community. He brings up a lot of troubling issues, which Soka Gakkai in general has been accused of by many others. The first point Adam makes seems to be the lynch pin for the rest of what follows:

1) Nichiren Buddhists claim that Nichiren Buddhism is the only “true Buddhism™” and all other teachings (and schools of Buddhism) are “lesser” teachings. Even the different schools of Nicherin continually attempt to refute eachother and claim ownership over true Buddhism. It’s all over SGI publications and I’ve heard it at several meetings as well. They characterize “old Buddhism” as being fatalistic, not open to the masses, rudimentary, and not generally valid. In the SGI, they talk about priests and monks as if they were just money-hungry hucksters trying to trick people into worshiping them.

Whenever groups start getting into the "we're the best and only" kind of messaging, it's trouble. I've seen and heard comments in Zen texts and from Zen teachers that are the same thing disguised as something the Buddha supposedly said. Mahayana groups have a long history of denigrating Theravada Buddhists, and it's also true that some Theravadas dismiss everything beyond the Pali Canon as fictional rubbish. So, any claims being made by SGI of superiority are certainly troubling, but aren't really unique in the Buddhist world. The fact is every school has had, and continues to have powerful individuals and groups who claim they are the best, and that everything else is lesser. It's sad, but true.

For some reason, I have felt compelled to offer SGI and Nichiren communities in general the benefit of the doubt. Partly, because they have routinely been the most diverse Buddhist communities out there - attracting people of wide ranging racial, ethnic, and economic backgrounds. And knowing this, I'm also well aware of how often groups that support poor people and people of color regardless of economic background are easy targets of hate campaigns. The whole ACORN scandal comes immediately to mind because it was so obvious that the flaws of the organization were blown completely out of proportion by the mainstream media, conservative politicians, and corporate leaders who wished to see it disappear.

Adam's commentary doesn't appear to be coming from this kind of place at all. It's really trying to make sense of what sounds like a difficult experience with a spiritual community. It makes me wonder if it's something about that community that is happening. Or if there are certain teachings within SGI that can lead to extremism if any individual group isn't well led or grounded. I don't feel I know enough to really say one way or another.

It does offer us a reminder, though, of the challenges that can come in communities. People want to be united, on the same page. And sometimes, things get terribly twisted in order to get people to think alike and behave alike. And "being the best and only" is a particularly easy way to hook people because all of us have some of that desire within us, so if you are able to be part of a group that claims it is top dog, even if you're life is a mess, you can say "I'm still part of this wonderful group."

So, maybe SGI communities have more problems with this, but it's an issue facing each of us, everyday, in all our interactions.

*photo of members of the Bharat Soka Gakkai group in India.

Thailand On Fire: A few thoughts

Thanks to Maia over at Jizo Chronicles for the following concerning events in Thailand:

The International Network of Engaged Buddhists (INEB) has just issued a statement on the situation in Thailand. Here it is:

_______________

All Lives are Sacred: A plea to put an end to massive killing in Bangkok

International Network of Engaged Buddhists (INEB)

Since the beginning of the demonstration by the United front for Democracy against Dictatorship (UDD), aka “Red Shirts”, on 12 March 2010, there have been many hundreds of casualties. In the past five days, attempts to disperse the demonstration in Ratchaprasong have become been violent, with a further effect of provoking violence. The government’s actions have so far failed to deter the demonstrators.

The present clash of political views is one of the great crises in Siam’s modern history. The country was previously acclaimed for settling conflict peacefully and democratically. Now it appears that both sides, the government and the UDD, are clinging to an illusion of victory over another. The entire nation is hostage to their conflict. Buddhist wisdom is relevant for those absorbed in hatred, greed and delusion. The Dhammapada, Verse 201 says:

Victory breeds hatred, for the conquered is unhappy.
Persons who have given up both victory and defeat, the contented, they are happy.

The International Network of Engaged Buddhists (INEB), representing a diversity of socially engaged buddhists from around the world, is gravely concerned about this standoff. We wish for all parties address the conflict with reason and tools of peace, to recognize the ancient Buddhist wisdom that neither the so-called winner nor loser will be contented and happy. We encourage those who do not fall into one of the two camps can help this process wherever possible. Only through peaceful negotiation and dialogue can all parties concerned return the country to its true nature as a flourishing democracy and a peace-loving nation.

Our heartfelt plea is for both parties to stop any act that may cost lives and injuries; to reclaim the time-tested wisdom of reconciliation and nonviolence.

Whenever INEB can help bridge the gap between the opposed parties we are willing to do all that we can.

We trust that in the light of upcoming international Vesakh celebrations in Thailand, supported by the United Nations 22-26 May 2010 and the subsequent local Vesakh celebrations, commemorating the birth, enlightenment and the passing away of the Lord Buddha, all parties will unite in taking responsibility for their conduct and for bringing about lasting peace, transformation towards social justice and shared wellbeing for future generations.

To close, in Verse 5 of the Dhammapada the Buddha proclaims:

Hatred is never appeased by hatred in this world. By love alone is hatred appeased. This is an eternal law.

Given how many of my students are either from Thailand or lived significant portions of their lives there, this situation feels close to home for me. We have had a few discussions as a class about some of it, but I've mostly skipped bringing in news articles about the daily events there. Being members of ethnic minorities who were mostly just tolerated in Thailand, my students have a complicated relationship to the nation. Some want to go back. Others never want to see it again. Some have a deep hatred of the Thai police and leadership, others speak glowingly of the ailing King who has been on the sidelines during this current conflict. In addition, few of the people in our school who lived in Thailand spent much time in Bangkok, where most of the conflict is occurring right now. However, none of this erases the fact that Thailand was home for years, even decades - and that for many, when they speak of homesickness, it's Thailand they are missing and longing for.

As a Buddhist, I sit with images like the one above, having no idea really what it's like to be that monk. I've faced some difficult things in my life, but the kind of upheaval going on in Thailand right now is foreign to me. Sending metta and peaceful energy seems like a small gesture at best. Writing blog posts also seems like a small thing. Supporting groups like the International Network of Engaged Buddhists might be helpful, but ultimately, as the letter above points out, the people in the conflict will have to wake up from their delusions. Let's offer our meditation practices to them, that enough of the people in Thailand may wake up before too long.

You Can't Take the "Spiritual" Out of Your Social/Political Leaders

Many of you know that I take seriously the idea that Buddha's teachings and grassroots, social justice work need to come together more. In fact, despite all of the miserable failures throughout history when it comes to linking religion to social issues, I still think it's foolish for people who aren't secular to act totally secular in society at large. I suppose for some of you this might put me in the same camp as the Taliban, Christian conservatives, and the Jewish conservatives currently running Israel, but I'd beg to differ.

In the first place, anyone who has seriously embarked on a spiritual journey, be it within an established religion or something on their own, isn't able to truly be uninfluenced by that while working and living in the world. Asking President Obama, or former President Bush, to completely drop off the Christianity while governing is pointless. In addition, asking social activists leaders like Grace Lee Boggs and Joanna Macy to drop their spiritual lives at the door makes no sense either. None of these folks would be able to anyway because the way they see the world is colored by their spiritual paths, for better or worse.

Instead of requesting that people play shell games with their spirituality while leading in our multicultural society, we might instead start insisting on deeper examination of motives behind actions, both individually and collectively. Is there a desire for power and control behind actions being taken? Is there an attempt to get people to convert to a certain religion or spiritual path? Will the actions being taken lead to a hostile environment for those who disagree with the religion/spiritual path of the leaders of a given project?

Speaking of Grace Lee Boggs, who is yet another elderly woman whose actions in the world are anything but elderly, it might be worth a look at her latest blog post about Detroit to get an idea of what I'm talking about. Writing about a new documentary about Detroit's history and potential future, she says the following:

My closing comments make clear that the new American Dream emerging in Detroit is a deeply-rooted spiritual and practical response to the devastation and dehumanization created by the old dream. We yearn to live more simply so that all of us and the Earth can simply live. This more human dream began with African American elders, calling themselves the Gardening Angels. Detroit’s vacant lots, they decided, were not signs of urban blight but heaven-sent spaces to plant community gardens, both to grow our own food and to give urban youth the sense of process, self-reliance, and evolution that everyone needs to be human.

Now, as a Buddhist, talk of "heaven-sent" doesn't do much for me. However, what I do understand and connect with is a return of reverence for the Earth. And the fact that these people, leaders in their community, came to this view through Christianity, Islam, and other religions shouldn't be ignored. Could these people have come to the same conclusions, and began making the same decisions, from a completely secular standpoint? I suppose. Is it likely they would have? I doubt it.

Now, this is a ground up kind of work going on in Detroit for the most part. And obviously, when it comes to top-down examples of leaders influenced by their religion/spirituality, the track record sucks the big one. Here in the U.S., even current President Obama, who has made more efforts than most to speak of the diverse spiritual and secular landscape of our nation, still supports things like the National Day of Prayer, which is decidedly Christian in nature despite attempts to broaden its scope. In Europe, many nations still have state religions, even as the population becomes more detached from those religions. And in places where Buddhism is dominant, like Sri Lanka, it's obvious that the particular blending of religion and leadership present is terribly troubling.

All of these top-down examples tend to be brought up by Buddhist practitioners who want nothing to do with social action informed by spiritual teachings whatsoever. I can understand this, and yet I think it's short-sighted. Why? Because the kinds of social movements that might address things like environmental destruction, degrading education and health care systems, and racial, sexual, and other oppressions come from large groups of people transforming. And where do you often find large groups of people with some common ground already? In churches, mosques, synagogues, temples, and Zen centers. And when you think about it, these people also tend to congregate together on the internet as well. Obviously, the secular folks out there aren't in these places, and they, too, have their congregation centers. And this is precisely the point. Social changes starts where you are, with whomever you are with regularly.

I frequently listen to people wailing about the state of world, including myself, and then think "What do Buddha's teachings have to say about all this?" The leap from that thinking to some sort of engagement by a group of Buddhists doesn't seem that terribly hard of one, and yet my experience has been it's a very hard leap. I have an interest - dare I say passion - in making that leap less difficult. Which is why I write so much about social issues and Buddhism, and also why I act in the world informed by my practice.

Now, it's time for me to go to work. May you all be well.