Post-Traditional Buddhism: the quiet revolution? Part. 1

                                                       Intro to the act

Imagine a giant golden Buddha statue sat in front of you right now. The Buddha’s golden gaze stares out onto an invisible horizon, expressing an out of reach wisdom and supreme intellect. His hands are clasped in unifying grace and his legs are perfectly placed in a lotus posture. The statue gives off an aura of graceful bliss, of wisdom, compassion and perfect meditational equipoise. Surely this image represents the quintessence of Buddhist iconography, its most transcendent and instantly recognisable form.                 

Golden statues are accompanied by exotic robes in most traditional gathering places for Buddhists. Incense is lit and golden bowls may hold offerings for imagined beings. Other more mundane objects such as zafus still draw heavily on Eastern forms, colours and shapes and each adds to that ‘je ne sais quoi’ that inspires warm feelings in the bellies of curious seekers, and quite possibly a smidgen of confusion. Seekers of one kind or another are still attracted by the exotic, by other, by the symbolic matrices that accompany religion, and most likely always will be as we are visual, feeling creatures.

Although not up to Hinduism’s standards, Buddhism has its fair share of rich visual display that acts to seduce the observer. Why is it that we are so drawn to symbols? Why is it that so many are drawn to religion, in this case by Buddhism, through rich symbology and unarticulated appearance? Perhaps in part, such exotic symbolism provides us with an alternative experiential environment, within which, we can explore different meaning-making systems, and feel free, to some degree, to shed the binds that adhere us to pre-existing, culturally normalised realms of being. The exotic provides us with a back door exit from our mundane existence, and further, from the pain and suffocation of modernity. The problem is that such an exit can lead us not to freedom, but to escapism and the adoption of a new identity, a newly fabricated self that reflects its new environment, both ideologically and behaviourally. We become new all right. Though we emerge as a false image of a distorted self that is framed in new jargon, hidden and stifled beneath the surface in a prism that distorts our own voice, our own knowing, and lack of knowing, through the lens of a Buddhist persona.

                       Part 1. Getting started, or, how did I end up here?

I feel like we are in a trap as Buddhists. Too many of us have failed to realise that the grand Buddhist experiment is not revealed through adopting alien forms and practice, but by invoking the Buddha’s example to go all the way to the end of the path and to find that way through our own lived experience. We have taken the outer forms of Buddhism to be the real thing, when they are not. We have confused mortal men with saints and super-beings and invested our hopes in reassurances from those who we don’t know intimately. We have failed to grasp the weight of the task and the need to take full responsibility for our path.  

Book Review: Prisoners of Shangri-La

I haven’t written for quite a while. It’s been a busy few months and I’m spending most of my enthusiasm for writing on a book that is in the works and an extended piece on re-configuring enlightenment. It is proving an enormous endeavour, so for now I thought I might write a review or two of books I’ve been reading lately, and perhaps a few classics that have inspired me over the years. These posts won’t be so profound I’m afraid, but perhaps they will point out some worthwhile books for those who would like to delve into some of the more articulate voices reporting on the world of Buddhism and Shamanism, as either insider, outsider, or both. Onto the first review.

Prisoners of Shangri-La, by Donald S. Lopez Jr

If you have read any of my blog posts, you will know that I have a particular fascination for examining elements of both Buddhism and Shamanism, especially the false assumptions I myself absorbed growing up in the 90s with the New Age boom in the UK, which I participated in fully. Applying a pinch of objectivity became the norm for me in my early twenties when dealing with the latest self-claimed enlightened weirdo in Glastonbury, or when reading a copy of Kindred Spirit or Sacred Hoop (the number one New Age publication and Shamanism magazine in the UK), but looking carefully and objectively at Buddhism and Shamanism as activities that I was engaging in wholeheartedly was less possible back then. It took me many years to get to a point where criticism did not simply equal reaction and unnecessary destruction. The desire to lift up the comfortable rug of assumptions I still hold regarding both Buddhism and Shamanism and examine the dust and dirt lying underneath, sometimes very well hidden between floorboards, has mainly become important to me because I have in truth spent such significant periods of my own life being absorbed by them. Bringing our beliefs and ideas out into the open is not as hard as it may seem, but when it comes to assumptions, the task is more difficult. Assumptions are that which we naturally and unquestioningly hold to be true, to be the way of things. We wear our assumptions so close to the skin that we are almost always unable to perceive their role in our perceptions and interpretation of experience and the world, unless someone else points them out to us.

This week, I finally finished a book for the first time in 18 months and boy was it satisfying to do so. The book in question is by David Lopez, a university professor of Buddhist and Tibetan studies at the University of Michigan. It’s title is Prisoners of Shangri-La, but be aware, the prison is not that of the Chinese, but of the western imagination. Lopez reveals through each of the chapters in his book the story of the construction of a piece of the collective western imagining of Tibet which makes his book likely to appeal to those who have explored Tibetan Buddhism to any meaningful degree. Although the book is about Tibet, it really covers the idea of Tibet and its creation in the western imagination through the narratives and adventures of the usual gang of Euro-American misfits; Christian missionaries, intrepid explorers, army officers, academics, oddballs and romantics. I say usual, because Western engagement with Buddhism, Shamanism, Hinduism and other spiritual forms outside of the Biblical trio all seem to be subject to the same misinterpretations, initiated by the similar figures with similar agendas, all shaped by western empire building and ethnocentric blindness.

The book is divided into seven chapters, each exploring the creation of a western idea, term, concept, and relationship with different aspects of Tibet. It begins with Buddhism as religion and paints a portrait of revulsion, dismissal and finally a label of purity as Lamaism shifts and warps through various incarnations before being allowed to stand alongside the others Buddhisms found worldwide as Tibetan Buddhism. The second chapter explores the various translations of the Tibetan Book of the Dead, from LSD trip manual to blueprint of psychological states to its original and intended purpose as a map of the six realms of rebirth and the means for helping the dying. 

The most surprising chapter (it was certainly so for me) explores an almost forgotten character from the last century: an eccentric from England who called himself Lobsang Rampa and pretended to be a Tibetan Lama and possessor of supernatural powers. He’s actually the best selling author to have ever laid pencil to pen in describing Tibet and Lopez illustrates nicely how he is in many ways a metaphor for the preference of the imagined in the West when it comes to Tibet and how westerners'  distorted visions have even been absorbed by Tibetans themselves, including the Dalai Lama. Further chapters cover the omnipresent mantra Om mani padme hum, Tibetan art, Shangri-la and the geographical landscape of Tibet.

Lopez’s style is readable, fluid and informative and like most successful academics to produce popular works for a non-academic audience, he weaves in conclusions informed by other fields of thought, whilst avoiding overly-technical language and excessive call to prior, or expert knowledge. Although it contains a wealth of material for popping bubbles filled with fantasies about Tibet and its people, it is not aggressive, pushy or arrogant. It simply undoes a series of knotty riddles woven about Tibet by idealistic westerners searching for a drop of purity, of perfection, in a muddled and confusing world. 

Links: 

Amazon book page

Interview on Belief.net with Lopez in which he mentions the book

Lobsang Rampa and his Third Eye best-seller 

A far better review than my own if you want to know more

Cerimonia di Purificazione, Trieste, 23 febbraio, 2013

Loggia di Purificazione cerimonia sciamanicha

Sabato, 23 febbraio 2013
Ore, 14.30

Al confine di Morupino, in Slovenia, 15 minuti da Trieste, Italia

Loggia di Purificazione: 20 Aprile, Trieste

Loggia di Purificazione cerimonia sciamanicha 

Sabato, 20 Aprile 2013

Ore, 14.30 

Al confine di Morupino, in Slovenia, 15 minuti da Trieste, Italia

9 dicembre: giornata di meditazione a Trieste

Aperto a chiunque vorrebe praticare la meditazione in gruppo per una giornata. Sarà guidata, ma c'è spazio per chi potrebbe desidare di seguire la loro pratica. Mandami un email se ti interessa participare. Inizia alle 9.30 e finsce alle 17.30 con pausa pranzo. 

Post-Traditional Buddhism, Part 2

 

Here it is, the second part of my article for Elephant Journal on Post-Traditional Buddhism; a term/concept I borrowed from Hokai Sobol, an intelligent Shingon teacher. The article actually covers a few thoughts on what a new shape of Buddhism might include as part of its emerging form. Again, I’m no expert, just exploring thoughts and allowing thoughts to lead me to, at least for me, new territory. This second part should annoy a few souls and rile a few others, but that’s okay.

http://www.elephantjournal.com/2012/11/post-traditional-buddhism-the-quiet-revolution-part-two-matthew-oconnell/

Here’s the link to part one in case you missed it.

http://www.elephantjournal.com/2012/11/post-traditional-buddhism-the-quiet-revolution-part-one-matthew-oconnell/

The Eightfold Path: Concentration

 

              (Cute cat, or a display of serious concentration in progress?)

Concentration is the last element of the Eightfold Path. Practising all of the eight factors of the path pretty much guarantees us a powerful and transformative journey of discovery, growth and change. If we go far enough down this path, it ought to lead to some sort of liberation from suffering and confusion and awakening to authentic being. This is what the label on the packet suggests, you will have to make your own way and sample the goods to find out whether the claims are true, or not. 

The Eightfold Path does not exist out there somewhere and I hope I have made that clear to some degree in these blog posts. It cannot be perfected in any absolute sense and there is no committee to measure your progress, and, most likely, no one will pat you on the back and say well done if you make notable progress on it, and, well, what is ‘it’ anyway?  Many followers of Buddhism mistake the external forms, teachings and practises as ‘the’ path. This is a mistake. The Eightfold Path is simply an effective model to inspire, guide and prompt us to action that has been reliable enough to warrant its survival and continued propagation for a couple of thousand years. The path though is ‘our’ actual-personal-experience of putting these practices and concepts into action. We need to start and gain some first-hand experience before we can relate experientially to what is alluded to in the many books out there. The path then is created through the raw elements of our own actions, choices and intent. As we gain first-hand experience we can start to relate to what teachers and teachings are hinting at and decide for ourselves what works and what doesn't, whether a given teacher or form of Buddhism has its head in a dark place, or if it/they might be worth investing time and energy into. There are many Buddhisms out there and most of them believe they have the final say on what Buddhism is. Outside of institutions and organisations, authoritative figures, leaders and followers is the simple matter of an individual, or a group exploring the consequences of dedicated practise on this human life, in this time and place. 

A path that journeys into new territory is always going to provide surprises, the unexpected and new experiences in unfamiliar surroundings. A one-to-one teaching situation should support us in making our own way, rather than impose a set of rules and instructions which we ought to adhere to religiously. In such a dynamic, negotiation and exchange are a more useful relationship dynamic than superior and subordinate roles. I personally have always preferred the idea of spiritual friend to guru or master for this reason and been highly suspicious of powerful, aloof, all-knowing men sat on high thrones. Institutionalised Buddhism often has the most authoritative sounding say on Buddhist matters, but to accept dogmatic, doctrinal view as the most authoritative would be a mistake. Relying on impersonal, external authority to determine the validity of your own first-hand experience in practise and in life is likely to lead to blind faith, group think and a lack of self-authority and imagination. Negotiating authority successfully entails levelling the field. The same seductive ease which convinces individuals to vote for ‘strong leaders’ plays out in spiritual communities. 

The path is your own personal-direct-firsthand experience of putting meditation and new concepts into practise and exploring the results and consequences as they evolve in an ongoing discipline. The rest is an add-on that may or may not help you on your way. At the end of the day it is good to be able to trust yourself to know what works for you and what doesn't, and stand on your own two feet.  It takes courage to do so, but it is well worth it. It is certainly better than ending up in bed with a wrinkly, 70-year-old,guru…or maybe not, if that's your thing.

Now, on with the last element of the Eightfold Path.

Let’s talk about sex...Buddhism Meet Shamanism (pt.5, Part.2)

'Without sexual union, there would be no one born capable of experiencing the great bliss of enlightenment.' 

(I highly recommend reading Part.1 first. Click here)  Certainly my ideas about sexuality are limited and have been impacted by the same forces as any other, but in attempting to write this closer to the Buddhism Meet Shamanism series, which hasn’t been easy, I have come to the conclusion that two essential points are at the heart of anything useful I might have to share. They are;

1.      Sex is perfectly natural

2.      Freedom of sexual expression is something we must be willing to own and explore

These two points require explanation, so here goes. Being sexual and making love are perfectly natural expressions of our basic humanity. This simple statement means more than it might seem at first glance. Because our sexual aspect sits in the middle of the wheel, it is impacted enormously by our relationship with the other four aspects. This means that our relationship with ourselves as a sexual being is deeply affected and condition by; our ability to express our emotions and be intimate, our ability to be connected to our body and therefore to pleasure, our ability to be open and receptive to a partner and let go of separating thoughts, and the ability to connect in a deeply human, expansive and naturally creative manner. When we engage sexually we bring in our other four aspects and the richness of the experience, outside of simply ‘getting off’, is determined in great part by how capable we are of doing this.

Because most of us have issues and because most of us are blocked to some degree in our four aspects, our ability to experience open, natural sexuality and achieve depths of pleasure and connection that so many of us deeply desire, is limited and restricted. Add onto this the challenges and trials of relationships and we can start to see that sexuality and sex are often highly complicated arenas. This complication can lead us down avenues in our relationship to sexuality that are difficult to exit from.

Many of the preconceptions we have with regards to sex come to us from popular culture. One of the most obvious and heavily recycled is that romantic love and sex are ideally inseparable. This is a highly annoying idea that is certainly supported and backed up by the religious brigade and is repeated again and again by the modern day myth making industry of Hollywood and by most of the standard soap operas and TV series which still dominate our screens.

I for one have found eastern attitudes towards sex to be quite refreshing. The romanticisation of sex can be found all over the globe but in eastern countries, which have been much more successful at avoiding biblical definitions of what constitutes right sexual behaviour, much more pragmatic and freer attitudes towards sex can be found, especially in Tibet, Japan and China. Certainly in the West it is unlikely that a family doctor would prescribe twice-daily sex in order to heal a liver complaint as can happen in China. As John Stevens illustrates in great detail, in Tibet polygamy and polyandry were widely practised and in Japan the visiting of brothels was fairly typical and accepted behaviour by Zen priests. This is hardly something we would expect from Catholic priests in the West, or Imams in the Middle-East. 

'It would seem by the size of your buttocks, that your nature is exceedingly lustful.' Drukpa Kunley, a revered Tibetan yogi and Mahamudra master

The Eightfold Path: Right Effort (part.1)

Getting started

Getting away from the computer screen, unplugging our ears from an iPad, putting the beer back in the fridge, and settling in for twenty or thirty minutes meditation requires effort. There’s no getting away from it. Modern technology, and in particular the internet, promises instant gratification, satisfaction and stimulation. Meditation does not. Perhaps meditation is the antithesis of the internet? Meditation brings us to where we are and slows everything down so we can see clearly, so we can feel deeply, and gain insight into our human condition. It provides a space where we let go of indulging the impulsive desire to absorb more and more data, to open a browser for the umpteenth time, to track down the latest video on YouTube, the latest track on iTunes and surf ever onwards to further, new stimulation. And effort? How unfashionable. Why pay when you can download for free, why leave the house to go to the bookshop when almost everything is freely available within that dark screen of limitless magical images.  

I have always been interested in the world as mirror, as macrocosm of our microcosm, and in this regard the internet is a wonderful manifestation of our collective ability to constantly distract ourselves with busyness and with seemingly important and vital tasks, which simply cannot wait. The internet has given rise to an obsession with instant updating, and a new form of anxiety at the thought of not being in touch and digitally connected. But what are we connecting to and how real is it? How does this new relationship with data, bits and bytes absorb our energies and efforts? We have created a new experience of reality based on immediacy where waiting and delay have vanished. The internet and computer technology may increasingly give rise to artificial experiences that provide instant gratification of desires that would otherwise be complex and perhaps impossible to meet in the world outside the confines of digital screens.

In the world of flesh and blood, of earth and stone, effort is almost always required to create or achieve anything meaningful and worthwhile. Long-term investment and commitment produces results and rewards that cannot be rushed. Whiskey and fine wine are aged and better for being so and the best of human qualities are the same. Maturity and wisdom require long-term commitment to growth and a concerted investment in entering the depths of human experience. The culture of instant gratification and access will undoubtedly change younger generations’ relationship with knowledge, entertainment and stimulation of the five senses in unforeseen ways and it is likely that many will indeed be positive. Will the pendulum swing and the value of real flesh and bones experience becomes equally attractive again as a counter-balance to noses glued to screens? Who can tell? Much of this new wave of being is caught up in a great deal of physical separation and isolation; cinema attendance is in decline and book shops are closing down on a monthly basis. It is quicker and easier to watch a film at home and order books from Amazon. The raw meat and bones experience of dynamic tension that marks a more complete approach to living in the world can only take form in relationship with the phenomenal world with all its messiness and paradox, and progress in engaged practice can only come about through a concerted and dedicated effort to transform our experience with matter. A digital version is simply not enough.

So, what is Right Effort and why bother?

Right effort is defined as the consistent and disciplined application of energy. In this context it applies to the path of practice and the attainment of its results. When we look at Right Effort, we are really looking at a combination of intention, energy and will. In tough times, it may be better viewed as the power or ability to make something happen in spite of the circumstances and difficulties in front of us.

Right Effort is the fuel that drives practice and its necessary change, transformation and realigning of values. It leads us through the challenges and resistance that accompany the path and the letting go of the familiar and comfortable. Without appropriate effort our practice will never develop and we won’t have the necessary resources to let go of the habitual patterns that keep us running in circles, unaware and unable to stop doing the same old thing we’ve always done. Right Effort makes the difference. It determines ultimately how far we go in uprooting the suffering and dissatisfaction in our lives and how capable we become of contributing to the reduction of global suffering.

Looking at the fourfold path: lusty defilements

Within earlier Buddhist teachings Right effort was divided into four pragmatic categories (gotta love those lists). They are;

1.      To prevent the arising of unarisen unwholesome states

2.      To abandon unwholesome states that have already arisen

3.      To arouse wholesome states that have not yet arisen

4.      To maintain and perfect wholesome states already arisen

(Bhikku Bodhi, 2008)

When I read these lines the first time I was rather amused by the author’s choice of words. I actually enjoyed reading Bhikku Bodhi's traditional Theravada take on The Noble Eightfold Path, although to me it reveals much of what is wrong with more traditional representations of Buddhist teachings. In rereading his chapter on Right Effort in preparation for this blog post, I was struck by his use of the terms 'defilements' and 'lust' on repeated occasions. What wonderful words! They seem to come straight out of the bible, or the Koran.

I've written in previous posts of words as suggestive symbols that entice often unintended subjective meaning and interpretation from readers and listeners. Yet, words are also keys that unlock doors of understanding, awareness and consciousness. Like all keys, words also close doors, as well as confuse and misdirect. I would hazard a guess that the words defilement and lust fail to open the appropriate doors intended along the eightfold path for most folk from my generation. Lust just happens to be the name of perfumes by both Sex and the City (I’m not kidding, TV programmes now produce fragrance for the more daring and chic) and Lush, and Defilement inspires, at least for me, thoughts of a dodgy S and M porno. Even the word wholesome is iffy, sounding like something you'd eat, rather than examine on the meditation cushion. Needless to say, I shall avoid using such terms below, or at least have them accompanied by more user-friendly words. 

Buddhism and Hip Hop?

 

I am really busy at present with other projects so am left to squeezing out a few short novalties once and a while. If you follow this blog and are waiting for the second part of Right Effort. I'll get there eventually. For now, there's this...

I love Hip Hop. Have done since my teens growing up in a peak period of its development in the 90s. For those who can’t stand it for its violence and glorification of guns, etc, don’t be too quick to judge. Hop Hip just happens to be one of the most creative, and original artistic forms of the last 30 years. Amongst the ego-trippin’ you can find some real gems. You can also find some Buddhists!

Below are two links to interviews conducted by the Shambhala Sun Buddhist Magazine with two rappers, one a Buddhist, named Born I Music, and the other a sort of Buddhist. He’s actually more famous, his name’s Rza and he produced the soundtrack for the film Ghost Dog , quirky film by Jim Jarmusch that interwove the story of a black Samurai in Brooklyn who liked to quote from the Hagakure. He has recently been acting in Californication alongside David Duchovney of X-Files fame, who also has dabbled in meditation himself at a Zen monastery. Buddhism is really getting around!

There are also two links to tracks by Born I Music. The first one is better musically, but not so Buddhist. The second is less rappy and was made in aid of Human Rights and covers some Buddhist themes.  Enjoy.

Six Words of Advice

 

In celebration of this humble blog having surpassed ten thousand views, I present a rather fine morsel for readers to chew on: the Six words of advice from Tilopa. Translation and comment from Ken McLeod.

Don’t recall.
Don’t imagine.
Don’t think.
Don’t examine.
Don’t control.
Rest.

This advice consists of only six words in Tibetan. The above translation was developed to capture its brevity and directness. Some years ago, I also developed the translation shown below, which some people prefer:

Let go of what has passed.
Let go of what may come.
Let go of what is happening now.
Don’t try to figure anything out.
Don’t try to make anything happen.
Relax, right now, and rest.

Tilopa’s instruction constitute the heart of Mahamudra; non-dual pristine awareness. Here is a link to additional material: 

http://www.naturalawareness.net/ganges.html

These are instructions taken from Ken McLeod's Unfettered Mind site. These teachings are often misconstrued, or taken as instruction to give up doing anything. Like all instruction they are appropriate to an individual when the time and context are right.  Some non-dual practitioners are great at following similar instruction, but do so by avoiding engagement, in a more complete sense, with the messiness of existence. It becomes a sort of refuge from the uglier dimensions of life. This is in part one of the reasons why Mahamudra and Dzogchen teachings are considered the pinnacle of the Indian and Tibetan Buddhist traditions and were given in secret or only in the dynamic of 1:1. To arrive at such simplicity of instruction, one has to have cleared out a whole lot of manure before the experience, as Tilopa intended,  is genuinely met. Below is my own reflection :)

To be is to do.

To do is to be.

To unite the two fully is to live. 

Experience is all we have, and it is only ever found in the immediacy of the here and now, within the great flow of the process of life and death, of pulsing and contraction. Beyond hope and beyond fear.