Well, it's nearly been a year since I left Newcastle and moved into The Buddhist House, Narborough, to experience full time Buddhist training. What a year it's been! I've learned so many things over the past year and I suspect that I'll still be digesting a lot of it in the years to come. It's been without a doubt, one of the best and most challenging experiences of my life so far. What is the main thing that I have learned I ask myself. The most profound and liberating and painful and sobering has been glimpsing my own bombu nature. As a self confessed perfectionist, the increasing awareness of my foolish nature has been my biggest challenge. The identity that I've created as being something better than I am, has been and I suspect will be, the ongoing koan in my life. This life of faith doesn't come easy to this lass ... Am i truly acceptable to the Buddha in my imperfect state? This is my heart's question.
"As the verse says, the Buddha never abandons us even if we feel that we are utterly undeserving of his compassion. The recognition that we are saved despite ourselves, is the very thing that allows our karmic weight to no longer be as 'burdensome' for the Buddha takes it on his shoulders, so to speak, and assures us that it is no longer an impediment to our being embraced by his wisdom and compassion. To be sure, we still feel the bitter pain and disappointment of our own manifold shortcomings but we no longer have the added burden of feeling that we are thereby excluded from the Buddha's grace.
Ultimately, the Buddha's message is one of joy in the liberating knowledge that our salvation from the fetters of human existence is not, in any way, subject to what we do, can do or should do. Of course, we seek to live our lives as humanely as we can with due regard to the well-being of others. Unfortunately, however, this is not always possible. Despite our very best intentions, we do often hurt other people and cause untold damage in all sorts of subtle ways - to ourselves, the environment, and to animals.
We should live our lives with our eyes wide open to all that we are and to all that we do. We should be honest about our capacities and not delude ourselves that we are better than we really are or superior to others. In the face of the Buddha's purity and perfection, we are as nothing. In relation to his steadfast promise of complete emancipation, we should take stock of our true worth and gratefully accept this gift with profound gratitude."
John Paraskevopoulos http://www.nembutsu.info/may033.htm
I've been reflecting on how essential compassion is, both for ourselves and others. How can we honestly reflect on our nature, as a foolish being full of blind passions, without it? I resonate very much with the sentiments in this thoughtful article by Rev Kinrei Bassis.
"When I first heard Rev. Master Jiyu-Kennett speak, the words that resonated with me most were, "Buddhist training begins with compassion for the self." At the time, I really had no understanding what these words meant. Being critical of myself was a central aspect of my personality. I saw this trait as a virtuebeing very aware of my faults would keep me grounded and real, and that it would be impossible to make spiritual progress unless I recognized what I needed to change. What I didn't realize was that being aware of how I need to improve my behavior did not mean I should be critical and upset with myself. My problem was I had no understanding of what it meant to be nonjudgmental.
Cultivating a nonjudgmental way of looking at things is the key to opening our hearts to real compassion. But how does one go about this? What should I do when I see that something is wrong? How should I approach it? What exactly is the compassionate mind rather than the hard judgmental mind?
In the years since I first heard Rev. Master Jiyu-Kennett speak those words, I have since learned that the mind of meditation is to see problems and failures without judgment. Not judging others but also not judging myself. If I make a mess of something, or if I am lazy or angry or proud, I am breaking the Buddhist Precepts. However, being aware of this does not mean I have to judge and criticize myself. There is not something fundamentally wrong with me; there is only a problem with my behavior. And here lies a subtle but important point: There is a vital difference between being aware of the harmful nature of certain patterns of thought and behavior, and having harsh judgment of oneself.
Compassion is really just the opening our hearts to suffering without allowing our judgments to get in the way. If someone is suffering and we judge them, this closes our hearts and fills our mind with harsh opinions. Compassion does not mean we do not see the mistakes others make; it means we have sympathy and understanding for their difficulties, knowing we are not really different from them. We are all born and live in this human realm in which ignorance and delusion strongly influences our lives...
Turning the stream of compassion within is letting go of our opinions and desires so that the same compassion that fills the universe can also be experienced filling our hearts and our lives. Although it seems utterly impossible to believe, we are dreaming we are suffering, dreaming harsh judgments of ourselves and others, and dreaming we are lonely and separate beings. The life of Buddha is the all-embracing life of compassion. That compassion flows through everything, washing away all impurity, and allowing everything to find its true place in the great Mandala of the Buddhas."
By Rev. Kinrei Bassis "Turning the Stream of Compassion Within"
Pureland Buddhism is for people of blind passions. What does this mean? Here's a piece I like quoted by John Paraskevopoulos by the translators involved in the Shin Buddhism Translation Series.
"Blind passion (bonno) is a comprehensive term descriptive of all the forces, conscious and unconscious, that propel the unenlightened person to think, feel, act and speak - whether in happiness or sorrow - in such a way as to cause uneasiness, frustration, torment and pain and sorrow mentally, emotionally, spiritually, and even physically for themselves and others. While Buddhism makes a detailed and subtle analysis of blind passion, employing such terms as craving, anger, delusion, arrogance, doubt and wrong views, fundamentally it is rooted in the fierce, stubborn clinging to the foolish and evil self that constitutes the basis of our existence. When we realize the full implications of this truth about ourselves, we see that the human condition is itself nothing but blind passion. Thus, just to live, or wanting to live, as an unenlightened being is to manifest blind passion at all times, regardless of what we may appear to be. One comes to know this, however, only through the illumination of great compassion. Hence, awakening to one's own nature is called the wisdom of shinjin, and the person who realizes it has already been grasped by the Primal Vow."
The question of form has been very prevalent in my mind at the moment, which has been spinning in circles trying to figure it out! What is the best way to live the Dharma in one's life? It's a big question! I found a beautiful article "Hunger and Gladness" by Sallie Jiko-Tisdale, exploring this dilemna. Here's an extract;
"Imagine a path into a forest. You’ve heard rumors about beautiful and secret places in that forest, along that path. You know it’s a long road, but you set off, full of ideas about what these beautiful, secret places might be like. After a while, with some dismay, you come to a fork. No one mentioned a fork! No one said there were two paths! Left or right? There aren’t any maps; there are no guides standing by with helpful advice. Many people in such a position are paralyzed for a while, with no idea how to proceed. A few people even turn around and leave the forest, for they are so afraid of making the wrong choice, or, ofchoosing itself. Facing such moments, most of us do proceed. We may wonder for a while if we made the right choice, but we quickly stop worrying about it because the path itself captures our attention. Then we come to a meadow, and then a lake, a lovely distant view, a place of small, hidden flowers. What a good choice we made! What a nice path this is, with its beautiful and secret places. After a while, you begin to glimpse other people in the distance. You hear steps, you see a passing shape, not so far away. A person waves to you from across the lake, and you say to yourself, “Hey, that’s the other path! Hey, that’s a nice view! I’d like to see that view. Dang! Maybe I picked the wrong path. Maybe those people, over there, are getting to see a lot more of the secrets than I am.” We are beset by jealousy and fear even as we walk our chosen path.
More time goes by, more time on the path, and after a while, we realize that this path isn’t all easy and nice. There’s a certain amount of slogging, some mud, a few bogs full of mosquitoes. Then, it rains. The trees are scraggly, and the mountain completely disappears from view. Then, we’re sure that the people on the other path are having a lot more fun...
At the beginning of this talk, I said that some people are paralyzed by the fork in the road and some retreat. But these are choices, too. You have to choose. Each of us is stuck with the fact of being alive. Teachers are like trail guides, people who have walked it before. But most of the time, these trail guides do a lot less than we want them to do. The guide says, “Watch out for that rock — I just tripped on it.” The guide says, “Hey, it looks like it’s going to rain.” The rest is up to you.
We come back, then, to the great dilemma: “Oh my god, I’m missing something!” I’ve been saying in various ways that I’m not, you’re not, no one is missing anything. But of course, we all are, because we are all missing “the other path.” We only get one at a time. Every life is “missing” every other life. Learning the lessons and receiving the gifts of my particular life, I miss all the lessons and gifts of a hundred thousand lives. You can never see what you’ve missed. You can never see what has gone behind, what might have been. There is grief in this, but no recourse. The key to “I’m missing something” is to know that it is true. I am missing something, and I have to accept that and know at the same time that I am not — I cannot be —missing something essential. I know, I know, deep in my heart, that the only difference in our paths is the point of view. No point of view is complete. No point of view contains everything that can be seen. In the end, no path is harder or easier or longer or shorter. The Buddha Way stands open wide.
I feel myself bobbing and flowing in the froth of life’s river, filled with a sense of beauty and fullness and richness in this river. This froth of air and water gets worked into a meringue of wet light everywhere, and this is true, no matter which path I’m on, no matter where or who I am."
http://www.prairiewindzen.org/prairiewind/Winter05/winter05.pdf
