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The American Buddha Caitríona Reed |
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| When Thich Nhat Hanh visited this country in 1982 he appreciated
the decor of the Buddhist Centers he visited, copies of their Asian counterparts,
but said, "Show me the face of the American Buddha!" Arnold Toynbee wrote that the introduction of Buddhism to the west may be the single most significant event of the 20th century. Not only is the West changed by the arrival of Buddhism; Buddhism is also changed by its contact with Western culture. If it doesn't, it ceases to be Buddhism and becomes a mere relic. A similar symbiosis has taken place in every country Buddhism has visited since it's origin in India nearly 26 centuries ago. Buddhism has a particular knack of changing to suit its circumstances, in part because, at it's best, it does not rely on the rigidity of dogma to express itself. What does Western Buddhism look like, what will it become; and what is it about Buddhism that has the potential of exercising such a significant influence on the 20th century? Of course, when it was founded Buddhism was not Buddhism. The Buddha was not interested in formulating a theoretical doctrine. His only interest was in bringing happiness to others. The teachings are not a commodity, a dogma, nor even as a 'religion' in the way we often understand the word. Of course, things are not always perfect and dogmatic thinking has surfaced from time to time; but who's to say that is not a form of Buddhism too? What does Buddhism offer to the west? The spirit of non-attachment to views; free inquiry based on experience; tolerance; appreciation for the power of the mind; non-violence and a taste for social justice that predated our own by many centuries; a comprehensive teaching of interdependence and mutual co-arising; a strong insistence on the practice of love and compassion. What does the west offer to Buddhism? A global crisis to test the values and practice of Buddhists (and everyone else) everywhere! Western psychology; Western ideas of democracy; feminism; ecology; scientific method, practice and theory; the romantic movement and the celebration of the individual and self-expression. . . When people call to inquire about retreats or classes they naturally ask about the kind of meditation they will learn here, how long each meditation period lasts and so on. They may also want to make sure that we teach Buddhism (or Zen or Vipassana); a clearly defined system based on a recognizable world religion. On the other hand, others may want to be sure that they are not expected to give up their autonomy to join some sort of cult; certainly an understandable concern! We do need a reference point, and certainly we sit (and walk and eat and work) quietly and mindfully together for certain amounts of time, and certainly the language we use to discuss our aspirations and experience is drawn from Buddhist teaching; and we do move within the current of a lineage that goes back to the time of the Buddha. We do not, however, in the spirit of this tradition, discourage people from questioning everything in the deepest possible way. If, when it arrives in a new culture, Buddhist practice depends entirely on the terminology of its alien source for its expression and measure it has not yet come home. You could say that if Buddhist practice in the West depends entirely on Asian Buddhist terminology for its description it is no longer Buddhist practice. It is a relic, an imitation (like those American zendos that were not yet quite American.) If we adhere unquestioningly to a particular set of views we become blind, unavailable to experience anything truly new; but if we hurry the process we risk diluting or misrepresenting the teachings. Our experience does not actually need to be described in Buddhist terms at all. The invitation is all around us to take on an involvement; through awareness, inquiry, love, with the whole of our life. Our life becomes the meditation. We draw from our Jewish, Christian and Western secular roots, as much as we do from our exploration of Buddhist ideas and approaches. When I first met Thich Nhat Hanh I told him that I wanted to graduate from Buddhism. He understood that I did not mean to reject Buddhism, rather that I felt a need to move more deeply into something authentic, to lay claim to something I already possessed which Buddhism might be preventing me from seeing. Of course, with no Buddhism in the first place, it might be impossible to graduate from it. |
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| In the beginning of our meditation practice we might look
for discernible results, effects, a flash of lightning from the sky. Perhaps
we hope to find someone we won't be able to recognize; to make ourselves
invisible to ourselves; for fear or shame. The Buddha is far away from us
on an altar. We ask, "Is it's working yet?" "Am I successful?" "Do I feel
any different?" It is worth remembering that it is through the patience we cultivate, the kindness we bring, to our experience, to our life, that we are transformed; not by grasping at things we hope to gain or attain. As the saying goes, "Now that I'm enlightened, I'm just as miserable as ever!" So what's changed? The smile perhaps, which is something that can be cultivated for its own sake, but what's the use of a smile without others to share it with? Those who define themselves as practicing Buddhists often see Meditation as the main expression of their Buddhism and miss the ethical, philosophical and psychological tools that are offered, falling into the universal trap of excessive idealism and missing the very thing that Buddhism offers so well - a practical approach to living right here and now. There are a hundred ways to kneel and kiss the ground. We do not have to rid ourselves of what we are first. The dulcimer is available. Mary Oliver echoes Rumi, |
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