Friday, October 15, 2010

Save the Planet–I just don’t get it.

I never understood what it meant to Save the Planet. When I was in college, Save the Planet was on everyone’s lips. Save the Planet sounds good, and makes good bumper stickers and nice little buttons for backpacks and denim jackets, but fifty years after I first heard the phrase, it still doesn’t make any sense to me. I didn’t get it when I was shouting it at street rallies in the sixties. And I still don’t get it.

What exactly am I supposed to be saving? I thought the point of the dharma was that everything was impermanent. If that’s true, then Save the Planet is an oxymoron. What am I supposed to be making permanent, fixing and fixating on? The whole planet? And isn’t my wanting to fix it back to what it was, freeze it at some point in the past and make it unchanging, isn’t that just greed guised as good? And isn’t greed our nastiest and worst habit?

I live very near the lake in Chicago. It’s only a few minute walk to the edge of twenty percent of the world’s fresh water. Am I really doing anything to save the planet by not running the water when I shave, or by taking 90-second showers? I just don’t get it. I read that there’s a new ocean forming in Ethiopia. Am I supposed to do something to nurture it, or to fill in the rift and stop it?

While I don't get Save the Planet, I do get the Three Pure Vows, which I am committed to live by and which guide my life: Do no harm, Be of benefit, Save all sentient beings. That I get. That I do. And that is all I can do. That’s where my responsibility ends. For me Save the Planet doesn’t make any sense. It’s a greed-laden idea. It comes from speculative-mind. It’s wrong view. The Three Pure Vows, that’s right view.

Every time I hear myself utter the third vow, every time I set my intention to save all sentient beings, I remind myself that “all sentient beings” aren’t just living things. All sentient beings are everyone and everything–both animate and inanimate. All sentient beings are not only living beings, but also the trees and the forests, the rock and the mountains. In the wording of the Diamond Sutra, it’s everyone and everything …whether born from eggs, from the womb, from moisture, or spontaneously; whether they have form or do not have form; whether they have perceptions or do not have perceptions; or whether it cannot be said of them that they have perceptions or that they do not have perceptions.

While Save the Planet doesn’t tell me anything, the Three Pure Vows tell me everything. Those vows are telling me to do no harm to the people and things around me. Because our nature is to do, if I choose to do no harm and then do something, it will be of benefit. Where do I begin that practice? As one Zen teacher told me, “You start by taking care of the things on our doorstep.” The stuff on my doorstep, that I understand. That makes sense. That I can do.

Howso? By showing respect for everything I encounter. For living and sleeping and walking and driving and cleaning and everything else in ways that are respectful of those around me and of the environment. How do I approach that? By trying to do everything with awareness of the weight I am levying on those around me and on the things I am surrounded by; by being humble and modest in front of plants in my garden, my neighbors, friends, and family. When I conserve resources, I am doing no harm and being of benefit.

That’s what I do, that’s all I can do. That makes sense to me: Conserve Resources.

Thursday, September 30, 2010

If Greed Worked, We'd All Be Happy By Now


The list of Hollywood movies in which greed is the central theme is virtually endless…from classics such as The Treasure of the Sierra Madre (1948) and Cat On A Hot Tin Roof (1958), to the coming soon Return of Gordon Gekko.

In The Simple Men we are told that there are only two things in life “desire and trouble; whenever there’s desire there’s trouble.” The Simple Men is a movie about just how far a simple man will go for four million dollars. Would you kill your brother? Similarly, in Goodfellas, Jimmy Conway is a bank robber who methodically kills off everyone who helped him with a five million dollar heist rather than giving them their share of the stolen money.

In Brian de Palma’s epic crime film, Scarface, we see greed run rampant on the sun-washed streets of Miami. In the Coen brothers Fargo, we see that embezzlement is never enough. In Wall Street, Oliver Stone’s classic about conspicuous consumption, the ruthless Gordon Gekko assures us that "Greed…is good. Greed is right. Greed works."

Superman’s Lex Luther may rank as the greediest of all. After buying up most of the land bordering California, Luther plans to blow California off the map, making his dessert real estate into luxury coastal property. And let’s not forget Ocean’s 11, the casino heist movie which made it to the screen twice–once with the rat pack in 1960 and then again in 2001 with Clooney heading the cast. And Ocean’s 12, and 13, and perhaps even a 14, but I’m becoming greedy.*

None of these movies, much as we watch them, much as we celebrate in them, gets to the heart of the matter–that we are all greedy, that each of us is fundamentally greedy from the get-go, greedy beyond anything Hollywood could imagine. Raising moral questions about greed, which a few of the sited movies do, can make amusing conversation as we leave the cinema, but it too misses the point. Why? Because our greed is so to-the-core that we don’t even realize we are greedy, greedy, greedy.

In the dharma, greed is the first of the three poisons. It is first and foremost the reason we do anything. The way our mind works, we always want more. It is our karma as a species. And what we notice during meditation is that everything we do stems from our greed. We only do things, after all, to get more of what we want, more of what we like, think we should have or should be, or inversely, to get less of the things we don’t want, and so forth.

This is greed, the driving passion of our lives. It is fundamental to how our mind works. It is the model we use for evaluating ourselves; it is the model we use for making decisions. In the movies, it is easy to se how greed poisons everything, not so in real life. In the movies it is easy to see that there are alternatives. Not so in real life.

For me in my practice, the questions isn’t “What would I do for four million dollars?” but rather “What will I do today to end my greed?”

Here’s a simple exercise for practicing with greed: Whenever you are in conflict, whenever you need to make a choice, tell yourself emphatically: It is not about me getting what I want.






*It should be noted that I was looking at movies chiefly characterized by material greed, but in fact, all movies, like literature, are based on conflict, and all conflict arises from greed. 

Monday, August 30, 2010

Perfecting Patience is Our Path

Anger–The Problem

To end anger, one of the three poisons, and perfect patience, the third of the six paramitas, we must first recognize that anger is always destructive for us, for those around us, and for the world, and that its antidote is the diligent practice of patience.

Anger and Meditation

What we learn from meditating, from sitting still and seeing our minds, is that all anger is a defilement–an emotion that hinders us from seeing clearly and making appropriate decisions. Anger is, without a doubt to a meditator, the one of the strongest and most destructive emotions. We also learn from simple observation that defiled behavior can only lead to more defiled behavior; being angry cannot make us peaceful, acting angrily does cannot make this a better world.

For Buddhists or anyone who practices mindfulness meditation, anger is anger, anger is always a defilement, an afflicted emotion, and there is no such thing as righteous anger. And, “anger management” is an oxymoron. It is not about “managing” our anger, meaning making better use of our anger, it is about eliminating anger.

Anger is one of the most common and destructive defilements, it afflicts our minds almost all the time, whether it is in its least weighty forms, as uneasiness or irritability, or in its full-blown forms, as rage/fury and combat.

Ending Anger

To reduce and ultimately eliminate anger, we need to understand it and to develop wisdom, patience, and discipline
·       We need to recognize anger and how and when it arises in our mind.
·       We need to understand that for anger to arise, we must concoct a story about some perceived injustice;
·       We must acknowledge how anger is always harmful, never beneficial, to both us and others and the world.
·       We need to see that patience is the antidote for anger, and
·       We need to understand the benefits of being patient in the face of difficulties.
·       We then need to apply practical methods in our daily life to reduce our anger and even to prevent it from arising at all.

This is called leading a disciplined life.

Patience–The Alternative

Patience, the practice of patient acceptance, is the antidote for faulty frustrated desires (greed, the I-wants and shoulda-hads) and unwanted occurrences (negative greed: the I-shouldn’ta gottens, shouldn’t bes). We need to make the perfection of patience an omnipresent practice; not just a fallback position to use in desperation when screaming fails to accomplish our goal.

Patience is a mind that is able to accept fully whatever occurs. It is much more than just gritting our teeth and putting up with things, that’s the tolerance/intolerance thing. Being patient means to welcome wholeheartedly whatever arises, having given up the idea that things should be other than what they are.

When patience is present in our mind it is impossible for anger to gain a foothold. As we know from the cushion, since we can only have one thought at a time, if there is patience there cannot be anger.

It is always possible to be patient; there is no situation so bad that it cannot be accepted patiently, with an open, accommodating, and peaceful heart.

We start training ourselves to be patient meditation, then we take it off the cushion and practice patience by learning to accept the small everyday difficulties and hardships that arise without complaint. Gradually our patient mindstate increases and we remain peaceful in the face of our imagined adversities.

·       If we practice the patience of voluntarily accepting suffering (which is all imagined and unreal), we can maintain a peaceful mind even when experiencing difficulties.

·       If we maintain this peaceful and positive state of mind through mindfulness, angry minds will have no opportunity to arise. (You’re always breathing, so you can always return to your breath, even when someone is screaming at you). On the other hand, if we allow ourselves to dwell in aversive thoughts there will be no way for us to prevent anger from arising.

·       By training our mind to look at frustrating situations in a more realistic manner, we can free ourselves from anger and a lot of other unnecessary mental suffering: If there is a way to remedy an unpleasant situation, what point is there in being angry? On the other hand, if it is completely impossible to remedy the situation there is also no reason to get upset either. This line of reasoning is very useful, for we can apply it when we feel ourselves just becoming angry and thereby move to patience.

Being patient doesn’t mean that we shouldn’t do something to improve the situation. If it is possible to remedy the situation, then of course we should; but to do this we do not need to become angry. Simple awareness will do. For example, when we have a headache take a pain reliever, but until the tablet takes effect just accept whatever discomfort there is with a calm and patient mind.

As long as we are alive, we cannot avoid unpleasant, difficult situations and a certain amount of physical discomfort, but by training our mind to look at frustrating, anger-producing situations in a more realistic manner, we can free ourselves from a lot of unnecessary suffering.

Instead of reacting blindly through the force of emotional habit (anger), we should examine the situation. We should not become angry just because things do not go our way. We must break that old habit of ours if we are to progress past anger and move meaningfully forward in our quest for peace and happiness.

In reality all of our problems are nothing more than a failure to accept things as they are–in which case it is patient acceptance, rather than attempting to change externals, that is the solution.

Lessening and managing the anger is not the point on which we practice. The point is to patiently accept things are they are and to let go of all our fabrications about how they oughta be/shoulda be.

Problems do not exist outside our mind, so when we stop seeing other people and things as problems they stop being problems. No anger.

Sunday, August 15, 2010

Pluralism Misses The Point

Ideally speaking, religious pluralism would be a sense of intereligious harmony based on mutual understanding of other faiths. The problem with pluralism, however, is that it assumes we’re all on different spiritual paths. As long that is the basic assumption, there can never be harmony. As long as we see our path as different from theirs, we are saying that our path is right. And saying that our path is right makes theirs wrong. Because we process information dualistically, for ours to be right, theirs must be wrong.

If we can’t be right without them being wrong, religions pluralism is an oxymoron, like tolerance (which is really intolerance its nice-guy cloths).

I’m not suggesting that we hire Richard the Lion-Hearted to capture Jerusalem, again, or that we invade Constantinople. But it does seem to me that pluralism is the mildest form of distaste we can have for other religions–in order of intensity next would be tolerance; then intolerance; then amping up to the next level: hostility, and demonizing, and finally, yes, time to get King Richard back. Damn the infidels.

Pluralism is such a pc term right now that we miss the point when we use it. We miss the point because pluralism misses the point. We are already in harmony, because we are really the same.

The point, then, is not to see other religions as separate and different from ours, but rather to notice and understand that there is only one path and we are all on it together. When we realize this, the aversion is gone. And that’s the point. Not to have an aversion for beliefs that appear different from ours.

Here’s how I understand that there is only one path and that we are all walking it together.

My practice, both on and off the cushion, tells me that everything I do, and in fact everything that everyone does, is simply an attempt to end or prevent my suffering. Why do I scratch an itch? To end my suffering. Why do I always look down when I am walking on stairs? To prevent my suffering (I fear if I don’t look down that I will fall.). Why do I always clasp by hands together with the left fingers over the right. To prevent my suffering (reversing my clasp would make me uncomfortable). Taking this to its extreme: Why do people abuse children? To end their suffering. Perverse as it is, child abuse is an attempt to relieve the abuser’s suffering. And genocides, as horrific as they are, are an attempt to end the perpetrator’s suffering. Our choices aren’t always wise, but they are always for the same reason.

Since everything I do is to prevent or end my suffering, and everything everyone else does is to prevent or end their suffering as well, then compassion is my factory setting, my default position. Which explains that fundamentally, at our core, we are all compassionate beings.

I believe all religions answer four questions in an attempt to end our suffering: Where did I come from? How did I get here? What should I do while I am here? And, where am I going next? What differentiates one religion from another is simply which of these questions it emphasizes? Christianity, for example, arising from a Messianic tradition, largely addresses the Where-am-I-going-next question. Buddhism, on the other had, is almost exclusively concerned with the What-should-I-do-while-I’m-here question.

So what separates one religion from another is not differences, but simply emphasis. What differences do appear are in the languages and cultures and customs and costumes, which are purely cosmetic.

Why any one person is attracted to one religion and not another is simply the result of their karma. Our individual histories lead us to seek the benefit of one practice now, perhaps another later. So in fact, having a variety of different practices available to choose from makes it easier for us to walk the path together.

So we are all on the same path, the path to end our suffering. And we all share the same original nature, compassion. When I teach in a church or a mosque, I don't’ see it as different and needing to be reconciled, I see it as just another expression of our path.

I watched my Teacher, Master Ji Ru, enter the sanctuary in a Protestant church. He stopped at the doorway, gently stepped in and bowed to the altar. Just as he does every time he enters the meditation hall in our Monastery. And that’s the point. Not pluralism.

Thursday, July 29, 2010

Shifting to Right Paradigms

It’s Time for a Paradigm Shift

We make decisions based on certain underlying assumptions we have about ourselves and our world. These notions, which are called paradigms, guide and in fact determine our every action. These are our paradigms, our habitual responses to the world. They are “the box” in the phrase “thinking outside of the box.”

We don’t start thinking outside of the box until we realize that the box isn’t working. When things don’t feel right, when they just don’t seem to make sense, when we can’t find the answer we’re looking for, we might search outside another box, search for another paradigm that works better. When we make a change in our modus operandi, it’s called a paradigm shift.

It is important to realize that we don’t make changes until something significantly wrong seems to demand it, and even then, we are often slow to make paradigm shifts, even when our paradigm is debilitating. We tend to keep fighting to make the current paradigm work. Perhaps in the case of minor paradigms because we are stubborn or strong-willed.

In the case of major paradigms, like the five listed below, our attachment to the paradigm is often so deeply rooted that it is built into our biology, our genes. Our instinct for survival, for example, is such a strong attachment that we don’t even sense that it can be changed, even though it obviously hinders us when we are attempting to save our lives. When our fight-flight paradigm is activated, we become tense and anxious. An anxious and stressed mind hinders us from seeing clearly and making the best choice under prevailing conditions.

Regardless of their magnitude, paradigms are all habits, and what we learn in meditation is that all habits can be changed.

Here are five of our major paradigms, all of which meditation suggests need to be shifted:

If I get more of what I want and what I think I need or ought to have, then everything will be alright.
This is the biggest and baddest of all the paradigms, for it leaves us always wanting and never satisfied. It says that we should base our lives on greed. It tells us to always be striving, never to be content.

I am not responsible for my state of mind.
This paradigm blames others for how we feel. This allows us to blame the people and stuff around us for our states of mind, absolving us of responsibility for our anger and other unwholesome responses. It is, after all, the neighbor that makes us angry; the “lousy” weather that ruined our vacation.

I am always right.
Regardless of what we do or think, we know that we are always right. Which makes anyone who disagrees wrong. Consider that even when you did something you thought was wrong, you believe that “under the circumstances” it was the right thing to do.

The best way to live is to find fault in everything.
This is hard for us to recognize, but we are always looking to make things better, to find the fault in what is happening and correct it. Tis paradigm makes us perpetual fault-finders, never able to comfortable in our own skin.

I can multitask.
One of the early observations from meditation is that we can only have a single thought at a time. We can’t think two things simultaneously. Which means that when we are multitasking, we are actually jumping back and forth between tasks. That raises our anxiety level and prevents us from performing any of the tasks optimally. This paradigm tells us it’s ok to listen to music and drink coffee and drive at the same time. And that’s not a good thing.

Until we understand our false and faulty paradigms, and that they are a source of stress and anxiety rather than of peace, we won’t search for new paradigms. And until we not only search for new paradigms but actually make a paradigm shift, we will remain unable to address our most serious suffering, our Big Dukkha.

Right Paradigms

Here are two right paradigm shifts suggested by meditation:

Our responsibility to ourselves, our families, our friends, and the world, is to use each moment to be of benefit to ourselves, our families, our friends, and our world.

Whether we are having lunch or deciding on a chemo-therapy treatment for cancer, the paradigm is the same: do what is least harmful and most benefit to oneself, others and the world. This is a giant paradigm shift. And perhaps the most important realization that comes from meditation. Because when we do what is most beneficial, we become peaceful and confident.

Our responsibility to ourselves, our families, our friends, and the world, is to use each moment to lessen our dependence on paradigms that create suffering and to act in ways that lead to longterm peace, happiness and well-being.

This means to walk the path. Regardless of your spiritual tradition, walking the path is being morally disciplined and doing what is needed to develop and act from wisdom.

For Buddhists, this means taking the road not taken, which is the Middle Path.



Tuesday, July 13, 2010

Mindful Eating

Recently, I have seen advertisements for a variety of classes in mindful eating. Some with yoga. Some meditation. Some on their own. But when I look closely at the descriptions I notice that rather than mindfulness, in the Buddhist sense of being wholeheartedly present in the moment with whatever is happening then letting go and moving to the next moment, these classes are actually teaching sensory desire and attachment. It is a common mistake.

People often mistakenly think that because our experiences are impermanent and fleeting we should focus our attention on enjoying each experience “to the fullest.” That makes us more attached and more desirous, not less. That’s makes us more greedy, not less.

Like brushing our teeth mindfully, showering mindfully, urinating mindfully, eating mindfully is a meditative practice we should all do with the intention of mastering it. The liberated mind, after all, is the mindful mind.

Mindful Eating, Just Do It

If you really want to do an exercise in mindful eating, this is what I suggest:

Pick a restaurant that you like. Make a reservation there as early as possible for dinner, just when the restaurant opens and when there are the fewest patrons in the restaurant–maybe a Monday night at 6:00 PM. The quieter the restaurant, the fewer distractions to pull you away from your mindfulness. Make the reservation for one. This is an “eat alone” meal.

Arrive a few minutes early. If you are asked where you would like to be seated, say, “Anywhere is alright.” When the server arrives and asks if you want a drink, ask for a glass of water without ice. When it’s time to order dinner, ask the server to pick an appetizer and an entrée for you. Mention that you know the restaurant and just want to be surprised. Do mention if you have any allergies.

Mindful eating is about being present with the eating, not about picking and choosing. So far in this exercise, you really haven’t picked or chosen much, other than the restaurant.

While you wait for the food, just sit there, still and calm, hands in your lap and mind on your breath. Don’t look around to visual stimulation. Don’t concern yourself with what others in the restaurant might be doing or what food might be coming for you.

When the food arrives, nod thankfully. Eat slowly. Put your knife and fork down between bites. Fully address your attention to the experience of eating–to what it feels like to press the fork into the food, what it feels like to lift the food to your mouth, how the food feels and tastes in your mouth as you eat it and swallow it. Then let it go and take the next bite. Immediately let go of any judgements about the food. The point here is to experience the moment, the eating, not to savor or attach to it. Let each moment go so you can greet the next. Mindful eating is about being present with the eating, not about judging, not about liking and disliking. It should be no different from mindfully urinating.

When you have finished the entrée, order a dessert if you want. Do it with a minimum of words or mental commentary.

When you leave, just leave, mindfully. Be mindful of each movement and step. Then let go of this entire experience. Get into your car and drive home. Drive mindfully. No music, no radio, no cell phone, no thinking about the meal. Just drive when you are driving.

When you walk into the house, walk into your house. Don’t think about your driving experience, and don’t think about your dinner. Just do what is next.

That’s mindfulness. That the source of peace and well-being.


Tuesday, June 29, 2010

Five Ways To Abandon Negative Mindstates

Another View of Right Effort

Right Effort, number six on the noble eightfold path, is generally described in terms of the four right efforts: abandon and refrain from the unwholesome, develop and maintain the wholesome. This is the classic formula in Buddhism for letting go of negative mindstates and replacing them with wholesome mindstates. But there is another way understanding of Right View.

In this less well known understanding, five techniques are offering for ridding ourselves of our defilements:

1. For every defilement there is an antidote (patience for anger; sympathetic joy for jealousy, etc). The first of these right efforts is to replace the defilement with a wholesome thought that is its exact opposite.

While our list of defilements is long, the list of antidotes is quite short:

Generosity
Compassion
Lovingkindness
Patience
Humility & Modesty
Moral discipline
Sympathetic joy
Equanimity
Right Speech
Trustworthiness
Dependability


2. The second of the five right efforts is to activate these positive mindstates: shame & embarrassment, regret & distaste. Ordinarily in the West these are considered negative mindstates, but in Buddhism these are positive mental qualities that we can used to abandon an unwanted thought or action.

Here’s how: Reflect quietly and gently on an unwholesome action, seeing it as a little embarrassing or somewhat shameful. Then consider its undesirable consequences until a distaste for it sets in. Finally, as regret arises in us we use that regret to calmly push the thought away, shelving it until and similar situation arises again. Next time, though, when we look at what happened last time we were in this type of situation, the regret leads us to change strategies. No guilt, no wallowing, no ruminating.

3. In this third method, we confront the defilement directly, scrutinize and investigate its source and the source of each of its components. When this is done, the defilement quiets down and disappears on its own. This contemplative destructuring, which requires patience to learn, is a very powerful tools for evaporating everything from physical pain to depression. Email if you would like more information about this technqiue.

These first three are very effective ways to reset our behavior, to help establish new and lasting habitual patterns, leading to ever-increasing wholesomeness in our thoughts and actions.

4. The fourth technique is to strongly divert our attention away from the defilement. When a powerful, unwholesome thought arises and demands to be noticed, instead of indulging it we forcefully redirect our attention to a mindful presence somewhere elsewhere. This has a limited value, though, as it is weak at resetting our habitual behavior.

5. The fifth right effort, to be used only as a last resort, is suppression–to vigorously wrestle the defilement to the ground and keep it pinned there until it can safely get up and redirect our attention to something better for us.



Using these five techniques skillfully, we slowly take back control of our mind. The wholesome thoughts and mindstates we want become the thoughts and mindstates we have. And when an unwholesome thought does arise, we have the tools to eradicate it.