Here In the Wilderness
As for me, I delight in the everyday way
Amongst mist wrapped vines and rocky caves
Here in the wilderness I am completely free
With my friends the white clouds idling forever
There are roads but they do not reach the world
Since I am mindless, who can rouse my thoughts
On a bed of stone I sit alone in the night
While the round moon climbs up Cold Mountain
Han Shan
Autobiography in Five Chapters by Portia Nelson
Chapter One:
I walk down a street
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk
I fall in
I am lost… I am helpless
It isn’t my fault
It takes forever to find a way out.
Chapter Two:
I walk down the same street
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk
I pretend I don’t see it
I fall in again
I can’t believe I’m in the same place
But it isn’t my fault
It still takes a long time to get out.
Chapter Three:
I walk down the same street
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk
I see it is there
I still fall in… it’s a habit
My eyes are open
I know where I am
It is my fault
I get out immediately.
Chapter Four:
I walk down the same street
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk
I walk around it.
Chapter Five:
I walk down another street.
A Place to Practice
In the past I have wondered if there might be some special way I could offer the Dharma to others. Now the time for wondering has passed and I am taking the first steps along this new section of the path.
Twelve hundred years ago Tendai’s founder observed:
Even with the best of intentions it is difficult to master the Way under unfavorable conditions; living in a quiet place in the bosom of nature is the most conducive for practice. It is better to rely, at first, on the place rather than the mind.
Reliance on place has been at the heart of my practice from the very beginning, and so place will distinguish the way I have chosen to offer the Dharma. I am most fortunate to have land on a beautiful Adirondack lake. Since my ordination I have been slowly preparing it as a place of practice. I had hoped I could make it ready before the end of our short summer, but as is usual (and even customary), I didn’t anticipate some complications.
The photograph above shows what someone will see as they stand in this “…quiet place in the bosom of nature.” I hope to be able to bring others to this place so we can experience together the advantages of practice performed in such a setting. I plan to begin this offering in small stages letting the place show me how it should be used.
I hope it will become something meaningful in the lives of others. If it does or doesn’t matters little. Offering it with an open heart is enough.
I’ll keep you posted as this project goes forward.
Difficult People
Yet another universal experience we share is dealing with difficult people. This feature of life presents another wonderful opportunity to practice.
Recently a friend of mine offered a contemplation on a text by a Zen master which contained the following:
… we can be especially sympathetic and affectionate with foolish people, particularly with someone who becomes a sworn enemy and persecutes us with abusive language. That very abuse conveys the Buddha’s boundless loving-kindness. It is a compassionate device to liberate us entirely from the mean-spirited delusions we have built up with our wrongful conduct from the beginningless past.
Speaking only for myself, when someone directs abusive language at me, my unconsidered reactions are outrage and a sense of moral superiority. These are my mean spirited delusions. After some reflection I may come to the realization that I too have on many occasions acted in the same way toward others and, if I am being exceptionally insightful, when I am the perpetrator of abuse I tend to excuse my misconduct. On the few occasions when I also consider the effect of my actions on others I might entertain the emotion of remorse or even try to make amends for what I have done. But when I am the receiver of such misconduct my state of mind is not as forgiving as when I am dishing out the abuse.
This reflection leads me to one of my favorite stories from the Pali Canon — Angulimala. He was someone whose behavior was not just difficult for others; he was downright homicidal. He was such an effective highwayman and bandit that when people stopped going out on the roads in order to avoid him, he just went to their villages and towns and murdered them there. The Sutta describes him as being:
… brutal, bloody-handed, devoted to killing & slaying, showing no mercy to living beings. He turned villages into non-villages, towns into non-towns, settled countryside into unsettled countryside.
After he encounterd the Buddha he gave up his violent life, became a monk and later an arahat. A completely changed man, one day he went into a village for his daily begging round.
Now at that time a clod thrown by one person hit Ven. Angulimala on the body, a stone thrown by another person hit him on the body, and a potsherd thrown by still another person hit him on the body. So Ven. Angulimala — his head broken open and dripping with blood, his bowl broken, and his outer robe ripped to shreds — went to the Blessed One. The Blessed One saw him coming from afar and on seeing him said to him: “Bear with it, brahman! Bear with it! The fruit of the kamma that would have burned you in hell for many years, many hundreds of years, many thousands of years, you are now experiencing in the here-&-now!”
For the vast majority of us, when we experience the trial of dealing with difficult people we are presented with the opportunity to recognize our own behavior. We can then transform the experience of being abused by observing the greater truth rather than indulge easy sentiments of superiority, outrage, anger and retribution which lead nowhere. Bear with it!
Gassho
Mistakes
After the first year of training for ordination we are individually assigned to lead the group in meditation or contemplation or to perform a ritual. In the Tendai tradition there is great emphasis on getting these right, and in some cases we are evaluated by our teachers immediately afterward. Reaching this stage of training I found myself very concerned about not making mistakes. Inevitably, I would make them and simultaneously experience a sharp emotional reaction.
One day I was assigned a long series of these tasks with the last being the most important — performing Evening Service. As the day progressed I kept making mistakes with the usual reaction following. By the afternoon my mind was filled with mistakes to the exclusion of everything else. I began thinking ahead to Evening Service with dread. I knew I had to do something to get my emotions out of the way, but try as I might nothing helped. And so fear attached to the next fear bringing me to a very unskilful state of mind.
About two hours before Evening Service I was in the temple. It was quiet, except for the turmoil in my mind. I walked to the front and set my gaze on the image of the Medicine Buddha extending the jar of medicine with one hand and offering reassurance with the other. I stood there for a few minutes just looking at the statue. Then, out of nowhere, the words “Who are you doing this for?” came into my mind. And almost automatically I thought, “For all sentient beings.” The anxiety was gone.
When I performed the Evening Service that day I was intensely focused, not on what I was doing but rather on why I was doing. I made mistakes but I was nevertheless successful in accomplishing my task.
Gassho.
Problems
Problems — everyone has them. They are so pervasive in life I think they should be added to the classic triad of suffering; sickness, old age and death.
Problems provide us with wonderful opportunities both to enhance our practice and to realize the benefits that come from practice. Most of the time practice will not solve problems, but it will aid us in understanding them, in finding the best alternatives to confront them and in avoiding behavior that will only serve to make them worse.
Of course, there is a pitfall if we use practice solely as a method to distract ourselves from the worries and fears that accompany problems. That is only slightly better than using drink or drugs as a solution. However, by using practice to focus attention on difficulties and on our internal reactions to those difficulties can significantly reduce the disturbance within us and thus enable us to act more effectively. Finding this balance can be complicated but making the effort is crucial.
As with anything else, the key is compassion. When problems arise we are all tempted to blame. More often than not we blame ourselves. This leads nowhere. Whether our suffering comes from the actions of others or from our own shortcomings, compassion is necessary. If the urge to blame is strong, then the need for compassion is greater. Compassion does not mean blindness to reality. There is no conflict between a clear appraisal of a problem and the disposition to forgive unconditionally both oneself and others. Building this within ourselves will make our actions skillful.
It is important to recognize the role of worry and anxiety. When we meditate we train ourselves to observe what arises without attachment. This skill can be an enormous help since it will open the way to clear thinking about what troubles us. Daily meditation is vital in difficult times.
Buddhist practices have ancient roots and proven efficacy. Not all practices will be equally effective; we are all different. Perhaps the variety of personalities is the reason there are so many practices. What works for us one day may not be the best path every day. But here the crucial point is effort. If we keep making the effort even when it feels pointless and inadequate, we are making progress. Like anything that is incremental it may take some time for us to realize how far we have come. Rest in the assurance that practice transforms and avoid impatience. Progress will come.
Renewal
It has been nearly a year since I last posted here. My absence was deliberate. It seemed to me better to be silent for a while. During that time I have made some progress for which I am grateful.
Last Sunday I reached a milestone in my path when I was ordained doshu in the Tendai tradition. The event marked the end of a third year of training, study and practice. Now I am permitted to lead sangha and undertake other efforts to propagate the Dharma. I have a number of ideas on the future which need a bit more reflection and maturity. Soon I will take the first baby steps on this new section of the journey.
Taking the vows of a doshu has given rise to many thoughts and impressions. But for the moment the dominant thought is of how many other people contributed to it. This has not been my achievement; it comes from my teachers, my Dharma sisters and brothers, my family and so many others. My contribution is puny in comparison with all that others have done for me along the way. Their compassion is a lot to live up to.
So I hope to have more thoughts to share here in the future. The focus must now shift outward to others after this interlude of introspection. That is the Bodhisattva path.
Perspectives
Lately I’ve been trying to understand what goes on when I make progress on the path. Most often a stride to better understanding comes after I do something to change my perspective. Looking at things in a different way can reveal a new facet of reality. It is so much easier to leave things as they are, but the consequences of that inaction are unacceptable. Better to make the effort and shake off the habitual way of seeing the world than to stagnate.
Return
I finished the annual training last Sunday morning. I wish I could say that I jumped right back into my routine with a new energy and awareness. The truth is I returned refreshed in spirit but physically exhausted. Of course, while I was away many problems arose in my everyday world that demanded immediate attention whether or not I was up to giving it. So as I went through the motions of getting back to normal my sleepy thoughts lingered on the people I trained with and our shared experience of a common hardship. Today is the first day I have had a few moments to reflect and regain my bearings.
Buddhism demands a lot of effort. You can’t read a lot of books and get it, although study can be helpful. You can’t just meditate and get it, although meditation is a very important practice for most of us. You have to study and meditate and chant and walk and contemplate and concentrate day after day. The teachings do not promise us enlightenment, rather they promise that if we practice with diligence and patience we will advance the awakening of all sentient beings. It is no small task to throw off the dead weight of what blinds all of us to the truth, so it is best that we get started with joyful and determined hearts.
It is good to be home.
Gyo
Today I leave my comfortable daily routine to begin my second year of the training that may eventually lead to ordination. It is a challenging 10 day program. It is so challenging that I am nervous about not being able to measure up to the high standard expected.
Repeatedly I find that Buddhism brings you to a point where you are called upon to take a step into the unknown. While one may have confidence in the Dharma, when these moments arrive I nevertheless sense an element of risk. Engagement with that risk is the doorway to progress. Most of the time I handle these moments clumsily but I have learned that while I am muddling my way through I will have the compassionate aid of the members of the Sangha. So I take the step.
The River
Here in the Adirondacks water dominates the landscape. Ponds, streams, brooks, creeks, flows, lakes, vleis, waterfalls, rapids, bogs, wetlands and mudholes are everywhere. So it was almost inevitable that my walking practice focused on a river.
Water is as close to universal as anything gets in the realm of phenomena. Every living thing depends on it. The cycle of consumption and expulsion of water by living organisms is responsible for everything from the air we breathe to the most elevated functions of the human mind. So when I stand by the side of a river I see the whole of the universe flowing by, every past and future life, dinosaurs and dish pans, stars and sawdust.
