Archive 3

A. Your overview seems to me to be correct. From my understanding pure awareness in its true sense is no different to Shikantaza. It is as simple and as direct as it appears. Totally uncluttered with any kind of upaya. But let’s be realistic, and indeed pragmatic, as Master Rinzai must have been when he introduced the koan (question) system of meditation into his Zen teachings. From my understanding he too practised ‘just sitting’ but realised that the mind could easily become dull and disinterested when there was ‘nothing to do’ during long days of meditation. So when he began to teach he constructed the koan system to assist his disciples with this potential impasse. The system encouraged his disciples to make use of a koan that became a (transcendental) insight tool that they took to their cushion, as well as to the rest of their life – but whose ‘answer’ was beyond the conceptual world of dualistic thinking. He used many of these upayas, which would systematically undermine his students’ fixed experience of ‘reality’. So despite apparently setting ‘heaven and earth miles apart’, he too was a man with the true spirit of Zen, in the same way that Dogen was. I think it is very important that we in the West, and especially those of us without a mature teacher to guide us, are realistic with the type of practice that you talk of. Yes, in its pure form there is nothing to do but just ‘be’. But there is every likelihood that most of us westerners will never truly be able to pull that off in a consistent way because we will be continually waylaid by the heavy karma most of us seem to be carrying around. Therefore we may wander away from the ‘true path’ because we have been taken over by our burden yet again through some powerful attachment that we just can’t shake off.We may well then need to use a skilful means to get back on it. What is crucial is that during these brief times when we divert, we always retain, through awareness, openness to and inclusiveness of life’s experiences, which is the hallmark and spirit of the infinite path. This cannot be emphasised strongly enough. If we are always with this spirit we will not actually be off the path in any serious and damaging way, but just briefly attending to a small difficulty along the way.

A. It is true that there is something of a conflict between the different views of the spiritual path and forms of therapy. I think if we first of all understood what constitutes the ‘spiritual path’, then this misunderstanding would be less likely to arise. From my understanding of the spiritual path, I would define it as a path of complete transformation of the whole of our mental and emotional make up – with this entire transformation taking place in direct relation to the sense of a self. For it is that sense of a self that appropriates and possesses our mental and emotional being in the first place and it is from this that we create and enter the world of samsara and unfulfilment. Buddhist practices work with the entirety of our mental and emotional state, which includes our acknowledgement that there is this sense of a self and that it carries great influence. The major characteristic of the spiritual path is that it does not chop any of these parts into pieces, but rather embraces the whole, and it constitutes a journey that could be described as complete surrender through wisdom. Dharma practice is a sort of ‘polishing’ process whereby, through ever-deepening insight, the influence of that sense of a self is polished away, until it is thoroughly cleansed and seen through. When that seeing reaches its final maturity, the delusion of self, for a short period of time at least, shows itself to have been from the very beginning nothing more than a figment of our own imagination. It is at this moment that awakening takes place, and the astonishing nature of reality is revealed. Whilst many therapies these days may refer to the whole of ourselves as a sort of reference point, often using established Buddhist concepts, they nevertheless have to leave that wholeness of being to target specific aspects of the emotional personality. After all, it is the emotional personality imbalances that have brought the patient to the therapist in the first place, isn’t it? There then takes place a clear and very different approach to that of Dharma practice, a one-to-one interaction with the patient specifically targeting the personality problem, and finding ways to change it. Therapy has a significant role to play among those with imbalances and anxieties so great that they cannot practise the Dharma in a correct way. If you feel you are outside the parameters necessary to be able to practise, then seek out a therapist. Hopefully, one day after treatment you will be able to step back into the fold and practise the Dharma again. Personally, I think very few of us Buddhists need therapy. What we do need is to learn how to take refuge in Buddha, Dharma and Sangha in a proper way and specifically take a teacher with the knowledge to encourage us to create a physical and emotional framework that will help support those perceived difficulties, and also, crucially, teach us how to work with these difficulties for ourselves. Through time, and a willingness to bear with the emotional forces you will inevitably experience, transformation will take place, and you will come through to be emotionally stronger and wiser. Strong negative self-views are common in us westerners, but true Dharma practice will work on that self-view burden; and should you need still further help, there are many meditation practices inherent in Buddhism to help support you.

A. Because genuine change for the most part is unquantifiable be very careful about looking for it. I accept it is something that most of do and is natural to want to see change taking place. After all, this is why we practice, isn’t it? But before you start looking for change it’s a good idea to first get some notion how the natural unfolding of change actually takes place. From my experience I’d say that at least 90% of change is taking place on a sub-conscious level, and therefore pretty much beyond our ability to grasp it. The remaining 10% is left over for the conscious mind to see. And even the bit we think we see could be questionable especially if we want change to be taking place so much, we may well be seeing change when its not really there. Change is mysterious, and should really not be your concern. Change takes place quite naturally as our habitual karmic conditioning loses its power through practice. The energy that helps keep us trapped in our familiar habits reverts back into its original nature, and with that reversal a shift takes place in our basic makeup. It is because this shift takes place beyond our normal awareness, we don’t know it. If your practice is true then change will be taking place. Have faith that change is happening and don’t go looking for it. If you do the chances are you will not see it, for change is subtle and spread over long periods of time. If you think you should be seeing change you will inevitably be disappointed when you don’t and disillusionment will set in and your faith in the practice will falter. You don’t make change, so mind your own business and stick to the practice!

A. To have awareness of yourself in the moment is, I believe, what is meant here. To be aware is not to discriminate, but just to know. Be alive to yourself through awareness whether you are walking, sitting, standing or lying down. Nothing special, just know. Not to be wandering off in thoughts and unaware of what you are doing. There is nothing to do -just being alive and knowing it.

A. Yes, there will be fear as part of the experience because you are no longer trying to control the experience in the way that you used to. Polishing awareness will encourage you to create that pause, and in the space you bring the experience, and you bring your habitual reaction. Contain all of this in a spirit of openness, and with the aid of the positive precepts continue to function in a normal and skilful way. This is the middle way. You are neither suppressing nor being carried away by the event. Finding this middle way (entering pure awareness practice) comes through familiarity. To come back time after time to that precious space of neither doing nor not-doing is the middle way. By practising in this way you will inevitably experience dukkha as fear, because you are not in the familiar reactive state that reinforces the self. And you will experience dukkha because that wheel of becoming and the world that it creates is going into change, and to change the course of your karma inevitably brings negative forces within you to the surface. To me, this is the most profound act anyone can engage with because eventually it will take you beyond suffering and becoming. In my view that makes all the dukkha experienced worthwhile, especially since you will experience dukkha anyway, even if you have no practice at all. The point at which you realise this for yourself will be a part of your voyage of discovery on this wonderful path.

A. To return our attention to the body is a skilful way of gathering the distracting mind through the loss of awareness during our daily (and meditation) life, so that we return ourselves to the wholeness of an integrated mind and body. From this place of being centred we are not then meant to keep our attention there, but rather allow our clean unsullied (pure) awareness to ‘fill out’ into whatever is in front of us and the general environment. This fulfils both awareness and mindfulness. We are mindful of our direct experience (and deal with it accordingly) while also being aware of our surrounding environment. This way the whole of ourselves is brought to life rather than just the mental, as can be the case if we are only interested in developing focused one-pointed mindfulness.

A. I don’t know exactly what you mean when you say we may have misunderstood the teacher/student relationship. I can only give my view of what must surely be the most important feature to anyone that aspires to a deep and meaningful practice of the path. We are encouraged to reflect on the Arya Sangha. Those historical beings, who we draw inspiration and guidance from, all had teachers. Even the Buddha himself had teachers. The many Buddhist traditions have their own interpretations of the Dharma, and schools within traditions still further interpretations. Yet there is at least one teaching they all agree upon, and that is a newly-initiated Buddhist practitioner not only has a teacher, but they should be together for at least 5 years. How can modern serious devotees of the Way ever doubt this essential fact for correct practice? How can anyone seriously believe that it is possible to somehow grow into the depths of insight without a teacher? In my view only the conceit of the western mind could think there may be another way for deep meaningful practice, despite this overwhelming evidence of 2500 years of Buddhist practice. In broad terms, it seems that the alternative model to the traditional one mentioned above, could be described as a ‘horizontal’ model. In this, you practise with others that are more or less on a par with your own understanding and also with those that may have some more experience but who would never be classified as being ‘teachers’ in the conventional sense. This creates an environment of equality where dangers such as abuse of power are negated. However, the whole structure of spiritual hierarchy that underpins the traditional ‘vertical’ approach is dispensed with. There is a view held by many in the West that the relationship between student and teacher is as much to do with power as anything else. When you have trust and faith in a teacher firmly in place you have the basic requisite for what can be a very profound and far-reaching practice. During difficult times of practice, with trust and support you can begin to learn to let go of yourself and all your attachments. This can evoke fear and many other types of emotions, but now you can learn to stay with these experiences, something not possible before you had a teacher. Trust when the teacher says, ‘Everything will be okay, open and let go’. You feel supported and may now be in a position to experience the letting go of your precious possessions. This is the crucial aspiration of all Dharma practitioners. We are always going into the unknown in practice and that will always evoke fear in some form or another. To do this practice unaided may not be possible. We will get it wrong, because as we are always going into the unknown, and we cannot know the unknown. How can we therefore know what is the best thing to do? We will inevitably wander off the path without a teacher’s indispensable support. Another feature of the student/teacher relationship is one of respect and deference. To be always giving your self up to that person who you recognise as having more spiritual maturity is seen as the opportunity to develop humility and openness. In a traditional ordained sangha there is always a very clearly-defined hierarchy in place to help nurture this habit still further beyond your teacher. To the cynic, hierarchy will be seen as yet another opportunity for power games. However, very complicated forms of hierarchy have been put in place by the wise over the centuries, and these are there to undercut the will to power and encourage surrender and deference, not to mention mindfulness. Hierarchy in all situations throughout the day helps nurture the humility that is necessary for genuine spiritual change to take place, necessary for the breakthrough to our Buddha-nature. Hierarchy is a very profound and indispensable feature of practice. It is the major component that helps create the ‘vertical’ framework, yet it is put to one side by the ‘horizontal’ system. Hierarchical relationships are crafted so there is always a ‘space’ between you and your teacher, and you and others in your sangha. In that space sticky worldly attachments are avoided, as these can distract and impede the practice to a very serious degree. A ‘horizontal’ sangha runs the danger of becoming ‘worldly’. These are like the relationships you had before you came to the practice, self-driven and filled with self-satisfying emotions. The space (or gap) that a ‘vertical’ form gives is exemplified by your relationship with your teacher, where through ingrained habits you may attach to them, but they will never attach to you! It is a space that is clean, wholesome and non-threatening, and in which you practise the Dharma. You can learn to get familiar and play with the practice in this space without being overtaken by sticky attachments to others. To dispense with the teacher and the qualities of hierarchical sangha is to ‘throw the baby out with the bath water’. In my view it is as serious as that. In my view also this will not produce deep spiritual insight, and those that practice in this alternative ‘horizontal ‘ environment could never go on to become spiritual teachers of any substance, fulfilling the need in our western Buddhist world for such precious beings. Humility, surrender, deference, hierarchy. Wow, such words! Us westerners don’t need all that kind of stuff! I invite the reader to point to any historical saint, bodhisattva, or whatever you wish to call such beings in Buddhism, who has not learnt and cultivated these virtues, primarily through a teacher, before their breakthrough. I doubt that it has ever happened. Yet we are prepared to marginalise the student/teacher relationship and try something else. We rationalise not having teachers because so many have abused their power and are corrupt. This is true. But the Dharma path is fraught with many dangers, not just corrupt teachers. That is the nature of what we do. If you are burning to see the Dharma, then you will need to take the risk. We do have a very big dilemma in the West in that so many wish to seriously practise the whole of the path, but there simply are not the teachers to go around. But you the reader need not be put off by this. Go and find one in the tradition that attracts you, even if you have to travel far. It is true not everyone has the luxury, the opportunity to go searching, due to their circumstances in life. This is unfortunate. If this applies to you, then find the best situation for yourself and apply yourself wholeheartedly. Much change can still take place; much of the self can still fall away.

A. If that is a useful thing to do, then why not? Counselling no doubt has many worthwhile applications, but in the context of practice? Be very careful. For a practising Buddhist it is important to see the distinction between counselling and spiritual practice. In counselling there tends to be a specific problem or problems that are targeted by both sides and then worked upon in various ways, depending on the method used. Its ultimate success could be another issue. With spiritual training the whole of the person is brought into view with the spirit of working on the whole person and not being side-tracked by parts of the personality that may hinder this ongoing spirit. Usually this training is done in conjunction with a teacher, but primarily the practitioner is nearly always working on himself or herself. I think the danger is thinking that counselling is the same as a Dharma practice. It is necessary to see the completeness and non-discriminatory nature of Dharma practice in order to open to all the qualities that can be worked upon. One of its major qualities is when you truly work through a particular emotional attachment in the thorough and complete way the Dharma teaches, then that particular attachment is gone forever. I wonder if counselling can make such a similar claim?

A. This is often a difficult experience to call. As a general rule I would say, first, don’t ever intentionally change your circumstances whilst in an emotional state; and, second, don’t just compulsively walk out. Rather stay and bear with what you consider to be an unpleasant situation, and reflect. Your situation could be judged to be a bad one for practice (many are), but this is often difficult to see clearly. We generally find it easy to convince ourselves that the situation we are in, and don’t like, must be wrong for us! Let things run for a good while; examine yourself to see if this is a situation that you have been in before, one in which you may be experiencing that familiar demon of restlessness and want to run away. Or perhaps you are simply coming up against aspects of your personality that you find difficult to open up to. If neither of these is true and your unhappiness doesn’t shift, then look for another job. If after a while you find yourself feeling the same in the new job (because it is restlessness after all, or parts of yourself that you can’t accept and open up to), then stay with this new job and learn to work with this powerful force of restlessness; or do your best to accept your limitations, learning to open up and bear with them while resisting the urge to try yet another work option.

A. I would say Buddha-nature arises from wholehearted practice, and springs forth from commitment. When you apply yourself to wholehearted practice, practice that you are prepared to take into the whole of your life in a consistent way, then you enter the transforming process that Dharma practice promises. If you stay with your practice and continue with this same commitment, one day your true nature will open in front of you, and all the questions that you have ever asked or pondered will be answered.

A. I find your question somewhat confusing but I will do my best to comment. First of all, I’m not sure what you mean by ‘consciousness’. Let’s assume you mean that which Buddhists refer to as Buddha-nature or Original-nature. Yes, I have said that Buddha-nature isn’t interested in how you want practice to be, that you want to have it on your terms, or at your convenience. Our True-nature will respond when we learn to practise correctly, having the humility to surrender ourselves throughout all our everyday experiences of life, not picking and choosing the ones to open up to. It is possible to cultivate communion between yourself and Buddha-nature, but never imagine Buddha-nature to be ‘out there’. It is your True Being and is within you. Yes, you can fool yourself, thinking you are communicating with Buddha-nature when in fact it is your deluded mind playing games. Communion can only take place over time, through cultivating wholehearted practice. Practice where you are prepared to engage yourself full time in all situations and learn through humility to give yourself up. Give yourself up to what? Give yourself up to your True-nature, that which is within all of us. If you call upon help only when it suits you, and consider it something of a convenience that will get you out of trouble, then this is an example of your delusion. There is a price to pay for the wholehearted relationship, and this is the surrendering of the self. If you want this relationship at your convenience, then it will never happen, you will be forever drawn into the deluded self’s desire to have things on its terms. Your True-nature loves you as it loves all beings, and indeed all of life. It ‘aches’ to reach out and help because it cannot be any other way. It sees you not as something separate but as itself, as nothing is separate, but at one with Buddha-nature. There are not many Buddha-natures; this only appears to be so because of our inability to grasp the all-embracing reality of one Buddha-nature – the great eternal mystery that is never touched by time and space, that is the wisdom that is not separate from love. And because it cannot be known or grasped, our response can only be to bow our heads with humility.

A. You can start the transforming process right now by learning to make friends with your habit. Making friends means to accept yourself the way you are and not to fall into negativity, reactivity and judgments. These all empower the habit and make it stronger. Accept that this is the way things are just now, this is what you lose yourself in. It’s just the way it is. However, as you are practising the Dharma, you have now decided that it’s time to turn away from a habit that isn’t conducive to what you want to do and (un) become. First, learn to be aware of yourself when you succumb to this habit and be aware of all the strong feelings of attachment that go with it; start to see ever more clearly why you run to such activities in the first place. This is just to know. It isn’t to judge and create a world of opinions around it, it is just to know. ‘ When you indulge in porn, know you are indulging in porn’. Next, learn to be kind to yourself because you are caught by something of great power. Certainly don’t think that this particular habit is wrong and bad. Actually what you are doing is perfectly normal, but maybe it’s something you would rather be not doing. Learn to become comfortable with what is a powerful habit. Develop awareness around the experience and learn acceptance around it. Finally, develop restraint when this habit comes to you, so that over time you slowly develop the ability to pull back from being caught and carried by your conditioning.

A. I was referring to how to deal with the experience at the time, how we can send that habit of losing your temper into change through containing. You are absolutely correct to say come back to the experience with your friend and discuss the issue when the emotion has subsided. This way we are in a more rational, balanced human state, and it is from here we can skilfully deal with the situation.

A. I’m not sure what you mean by ‘grace’. If you mean that someone or something gives you a prize for your efforts, well, I don’t think so. Our part on the spiritual path is to learn, through making use of the tools of practice, how to give ourselves up, surrendering the notion of self that attaches and creates life’s problems. The ‘reward’, as you put it, is the natural fruit of practice that falls when the conditions are right, returning ‘us’ to our own eternal True-nature — that is warm and loves all that is. There is a timeless paradox within spiritual practice. Commitment to a spiritual path invariably means making use of supports and systems, including religions. In Buddhism we refer to these as ‘the raft’. The raft ferries us to the ‘other shore’, and once there we let go of the raft. For most of us, to get to the other shore on our own, without support and guidance, would be impossible. The Buddha (like all great spiritual teachers) recognised this reality and created supports to help us in our commitment. We call it the ‘Buddha-Dharma’ or ‘Buddhism’. There are those that say that such things create attachment and a sense of doing something, of trying to go somewhere, and trying to become something, and therefore can never work. This is true if you don’t know that what you are making use of is merely a ‘skilful means’, something to let go of when it has fulfilled its purpose. This includes the whole network of supports and teachings that collectively is known as ‘Buddhism’. You may well imagine that when the moment arrives to return to your Original-nature, after many years of cultivating Buddhist insight, you will be full of wisdom. This notion couldn’t be further from the truth. When the moment arrives for you to return to your True-nature you are no longer a ‘Buddhist’ or any sort of conditioned being. Even the wisdom that has brought you to this moment deserts you. Rather, you are like a newborn baby that knows nothing and is incapable of any attachment. If you decide that you don’t need a raft of any kind, then be aware that this way of practice can be fraught with dangers. What we are engaging ourselves in is indescribably subtle. If you feel that you are someone special, not needing to make use of the checks and balances that all the great sages have made use of throughout the ages, then be careful. You run the grave risk of straying up a blind alley, all the while convinced you’ve got everything right.

A. Who or what would you confess your faults to? Yes, it is ultimately only something deep within ourselves that can do the forgiving: Our own true inner nature. The nature that is eternal is the great mystery that embraces all of life. It is that which we live out of every second of our lives, yet it is forever beyond the entangled world that we are familiar with. It is this that I personally open up to when I bow. What I describe in my book is how it works for me. If you wish to substitute my words of reflection and communion with your own, then of course that is fine.

A. Certainly stick to one way. I personally would feel concern if I discovered I was pushing away a part of myself in favour of another. I would be cutting myself in two and that would lead to inevitable alienation. How could it not be any other way? Wanting to become this and no longer wanting to be that is a common theme with practitioners. If this were genuine Dharma practice, I think I would be off doing something else. It sounds a dangerous path to follow and could never be integrated into the effort to embrace the totality of ourselves without discrimination, which is what characterises pure awareness. The Hinayana path develops skillful ways of ‘suspending’ the more ‘unwholesome’ side of ourselves by learning to turn away from it whilst developing the more ‘wholesome’. This path is not a path of open all-embracing non- discrimination like the Mahayana, but this narrower way isn’t really a path of rejection either. And by the way, give up ‘striving to change’ yourself. You’ll tire yourself out.

A. No, it is not the same. Entering pure awareness can be taken on from the first day of practice because it is not about doing or achieving anything; rather, it is about just being the way you are right now. The spirit of pure awareness is primarily about taking that willingness to open up without discrimination to all of life’s experiences, not seeing any difference in the four postures. This can be a bit difficult for absolute beginners when they come to meditate, because they haven’t yet been able to access their undisturbed natural awareness through returning the mind to that natural stillness. A skilful way to address this can be by working first with a standard concentration practice, such as mindfulness of breathing. This is a particularly skilful practice to pursue because of its non-conceptual nature. If mindfulness of breathing is developed through concentration on the rise and fall of the abdomen, it will help to familiarise the practitioner with coming back into the body. This is a crucial feature of pure awareness practice and reintegration.

A. No. ‘Dharma Mind’ is the mind we nurture through practice. We are profoundly conditioned into always wanting and becoming something. ‘I will do this because I want that’ is the normal everyday mind that we are all familiar with. This is called the ‘worldly mind’. The ‘Dharma Mind’ is quite different. Through years of practice, we slowly, and with much patience, turn away from that wanting mind and learn to stop becoming (something), so beginning to awaken to the unconditioned Dharma Mind that neither wants or wants to become. Learning to let go of all those desires and aversions, you begin to be just as you are, in all situations. This letting go is called unbecoming. When the Dharma Mind is fully mature, you will be empty of self and attachment, and you will have returned to your childhood innocence. It’s at this moment the Dharma Mind will collapse and vanish, and you will awaken to your True-nature, which is your intrinsically pure awareness.

A. I’m very sorry to read of your predicament but I don’t think this is strictly a situation for Buddhism, at least in the short term. Buddhism is about learning about yourself and the change that takes place on that journey. That change should cultivate inner strength, so that we become the master of our situation rather than its victim. In a situation like this you become master in the sense that you don’t allow yourself to be the abused, but rather have the courage and inner ability to become emotionally detached from the abuser and take charge of your own emotional experience. Inner strength gives us the ability to even walk away from the abuse and maybe start completely anew. This usually takes years of practice. I’m afraid there’s no quick fix in Buddhism. During the time of developing this inner strength through practice, one of the skills (upaya) we learn in order to help us through life is to employ other (external) measures, as and when needed. In this case I would employ someone outside of the situation to help, like a counsellor, or someone skilled in emotional abuse situations. Sometimes our experiences are just too powerful for us to deal with, and a part of Dharma practice is to admit that things sometimes are just too big for us right now. To acknowledge this truth can be a big step forward.

A. For most of us, doing nothing can be one of the most difficult things to pull off. We are profoundly conditioned beings, and the need to be always ‘productive’ is very ingrained conditioning – especially for us western people. Just to sit, just to be, can evoke all sorts of emotions. Try, as an experiment, to just do nothing, and experience the intense frustration that can arise. How interesting. Restlessness, in a very real sense, is all that Dharma practice is dealing with – learning to be just with whatever is in front of us at any given time without trying to possess or manipulate or avoid. Something is always there, trying to possess or avoid the moment, and that is our sense of self. If it doesn’t exert itself, then the self becomes lost and frightened. Stay with that frustration and allow the emotional upheaval that arises to come up and burn itself out, for that is surely what will happen if we don’t react and fall into an old habit, like filling the gap with some activity. This is the usual reaction we have in these situations. On a deeper level what happens when we are still is that we begin to come into contact with our unprotected self and experience its true reality – darkness, loneliness and fear. This is why we can hardly ever be still, always on the move, always avoiding our existential reality. By remaining still and allowing that fear to burn itself out, change will occur – true change – Dharma change. Dharma practice is about working with whatever life presents us with. Sometimes we are busy, sometimes we are not. Practice is not a process by which we create things to work with, as this would become another activity of the self. Having said that, dealing with our emotional reactions through our everyday experiences can at times be too much for us, so allowing ourselves diversions from time to time can be a necessary reality. But the key is to be aware that we are diverting, and why. That’s all, there is nothing to act upon, just to know is enough. If you like action movies, then that is okay. I don’t think making yourself engage with something ‘cultured’ is necessarily a better thing to do. But if you feel that that may help temper your restlessness, then give it go. If you find that you are forcing yourself into something that others tell you will make you more cultured, yet causes tension in you, drop it. More refined cultural activities may well have qualities that could be said to be more harmonious with the qualities needed in spiritual practice, but there is always the danger of trying to turn yourself into just another person. If you try to do this you may well just be replacing one persona for another, and what a waste of time that would be! Whether you appreciate Mozart or prefer a good goal scored in the rough and tumble of an emotional football match makes not a jot of difference to the Dharma. Skillful practice is about knowing yourself in all situations – whatever they may be. The living Dharma supports all life and is not concerned with the cultural values created by society. Just be yourself, learn to live in harmony with yourself, and the Dharma will love and support you

A. First, you have to understand that the stereotypical missionary work we’re familiar with through our Christian culture should not be seen as having a Buddhist equivalent. The idea that Buddhists travel around trying to convert people to their beliefs simply isn’t in its history or philosophy. Speaking specifically about the bodhisattva, traditionally they do help others that are in need, but they do their work because they see suffering and therefore feel a need to help. They would never pronounce that they are such beings, and try to convert others to their own beliefs. But there is another perspective to this work alongside what we would normally perceive, which is always alluded to but often misunderstood, and this points to the unique position of an enlightening being. As insight deepens the bodhisattva sees with ever increasing clarity that all beings without exception are a product of his or her own mind, and that he or she is therefore responsible for their suffering. Bodhisattvas see that to liberate all beings from suffering, they – the bodhisattvas – must first know themselves ever more deeply. They see that to do this they also need to engage with those other beings as well as all of life (including blades of grass). For life as we know it is also a creation of the mind. It is because of this understanding, when bodhisattvas are seen to be doing good works, you are unlikely to understand the paradoxical nature of their understanding of their own lives. With still more clarity, bodhisattvas discover that they themselves do not exist outside of other beings. So, when they finally attain liberation and pass into nirvana, all other beings are also liberated with them, (including those blades of grass), and pass into nirvana with them. Now that is what you would call successful missionary work!

A. I think this is a very good question and one that most of us committed to the Dharma could honestly admit experiencing. We take ourselves far too seriously, and that ingrained self-view that we must protect at all costs is the reason for this. When we see this, we see how enveloped and imprisoned we are by this self-view. I think one of the skilful ways to deal with this is not to be afraid to make mistakes, or to make a fool of yourself in other people’s eyes. Be prepared to experiment. When you are about to fall into an old familiar reactive way of looking after your image of yourself – and therefore retreating to familiar and safe ground – don’t go there. Take the opportunity to open and respond in a different way. Always experiment and be prepared to take a chance. This might bring up self-consciousness and fear. Open to it, but don’t retreat. Your new and previously untried action may mess things up, or could even be something unskillful that you think others will react to, but don’t worry. Play with it with honesty and be prepared to get it wrong. Who knows? You may get it right. And if you should feel foolish, open to that. Is it really that important? Or are we only concerned with playing it safe and protecting that self-image? I believe to take the opportunity to loosen ourselves up in any given situation by not hiding behind our defences is vital in developing our ability to respond correctly and spontaneously to life’s challenges.

A. This is an issue I’ve dealt with on several occasions answering forum questions, so I recommend you search through the archive to find those relevant questions and answers. Bringing your attention to the body and the hara area not just in sitting meditation but also throughout your daily life will familiarise you with the true and complete practice of reintegrating mind and body, and it is most important to be aware of this. Returning that wandering and erratic energy back into the hara again and again, and doing it with awareness, will promote a balanced practice of Dharma and give you a healthy, balanced body and mind. I have met many ‘victims’ in my time around Buddhism, practitioners who either have no knowledge of this or think it isn’t important enough. But to me this is the most crucial issue in practice. To ignore this understanding and stay stuck in unskilful imbalanced habits will only get you into trouble, which could be serious and bring great danger to yourself both physically and emotionally.

A. To see impermanence is a great liberating experience because it encourages us to let go of our attachments. We hold on and grasp because we want things in a way that suits us, yet at the same time we know that whatever it is I’m holding on to will sooner or later go into change, bringing the inevitable grief of loss. When we finally accept the reality of impermanence and become not so caught up in our habits, we grasp less at things in our life, and begin to taste the spaciousness that letting go will bring. Seeing impermanence more clearly can be experienced as being nihilistic because our lives are always about reaffirming the sense of self through attachment. Taking refuge in impermanence can bring emotional unease and fear at our growing loss of self-identity. In fact, what happens over time is we become a lot more content with the simplicity that comes from not chasing old habitual attachments and find ourselves opening up to new vistas in our life that bring us to greater fulfillment. Walking this path, like so much in the spiritual life, often requires us to put faith in the subtle way of genuine change and not be too hasty to fill those newly-found spaces in our lives with still more things to do.

A. It is not easy for me to make specific comments, simply because I don’t know you or your practice as a whole. My reaction on reading your question was to wonder if you have focused solely on sitting meditation practice all these years, giving little attention to the rest of your day, and not looking at it through the eyes of practice? I often come across people that have difficulty in achieving a concentrated meditation practice. Usually such people have little or no regard for practice in the rest of their daily life. To come to the meditation cushion without daily practice makes our sitting meditation shallow and one-sided. Even if we do manage to have a fairly concentrated experience, I am convinced that the fruit of such a lopsided approach will never produce anything necessary for genuine and permanent personal change. If you care to browse through the Q and A Archive on this website you will soon see that I emphasise the importance of cultivating a practice that is not just on the cushion, but one that is visited again and again throughout the entire day. I emphasise discovering that, off the cushion, the essence of practice is not at all different from the one that’s on it. By cultivating the practice throughout the day, we become familiar with the central feature of coming back to ourselves, over and over again, in all situations. This allows us to begin to gather ourselves up in a more focused way, exactly as when we meditate. Because of a growing familiarity with practice, now when we come to our cushion we are at a point where we find it easier to apply extra commitment – to really gather ourselves up and enter the concentration we all expect to get from meditation. To bring practice to the whole of the day is crucial (and when I say practice, I don’t mean just ethics). Practice with a teacher and a sangha. Wholeheartedly commit yourself to the Dharma, and I’m sure the expectations you have of meditation will come to be.

A. From my understanding, the only true way of dealing with difficult emotional situations is to work with them through a committed practice. There are no fixes for particular situations in Buddhism, as you may get in therapy. We have to learn to cultivate a practice that we take to all situations without regarding one situation as more important than another. If a particular situation is proving very difficult, indeed overpowering, to the extent that it takes you away from any sort of practice that your teacher could help you with, then seek advice from an expert on the subject (outside of Buddhism). We cannot pick and choose and ‘tailor’ our Dharma practice to suit our wants and needs. Through patience, perseverance, a wholehearted and complete practice, we learn how to work with life’s fears and with difficult emotions. We discover that many of life’s difficulties can be solved.

A. Cultivating humility is something that westerners need to be careful with, as it is something that doesn’t come easily to us. If we ‘try’ to be humble, we enter the danger zone. Who is it that wants to be humble anyway? We could so easily become one of those self-righteous, not to mention judgmental, types of people, ending up with an even bigger ego. So how do we bring this essential quality into our practice? Humility is that quality that begins to grow of itself through time in practice. Our willingness to contain our habitual outflows and to not go down the familiar road of reactivity is to deny the self, to deny its desire to reinforce itself and to be in control. This containment is the actual surrender of self; so the turning away from the self’s desire for fulfillment in this way naturally becomes the cultivation of humility. Not as something you do, but the natural consequence of not bringing the grasping nature of self to whatever the situation may be. By practising in this way we slowly begin to become familiar with the experience of not wanting to have things our way all the time. And we begin to waken up to the reality that not wanting things our way actually begins to open up a freedom of being that can genuinely change our lives. To encourage the development of this quality still further, I’ve discovered that the act of bowing can be of profound support. Humility is to accept that there is something far greater that is beyond ‘me’, my possessions and my desire to control. Whilst bowing in front of a Buddha rupa, in your mind gather up all possessions and notions of self and hand them to the Buddha. All of them, including those possessions that you regard as spiritual insight and wise. Unload yourself of everything and ask the Buddha to help you to give up all of these sticky possessions. In that emptying, there will not be the void that you may imagine, but the warmth of humility when you realise that beyond the blindness of self, a vista of something profound and far greater than ‘me’ opens up. Oh, and don’t forget also to hand over the one that is doing the handing over!

A. There is nothing wrong with having various perspectives to contemplate or reflect upon. But I believe it is important that beyond this you have one main form of meditation practice that will firmly anchor you and provide the stability of practice that is crucial. Although we do have a specific meditation practice to nurture, it can be very useful to wander around and explore, hopefully in a spirit of enquiry and playfulness. Especially off the cushion. This spirit of openness helps us not to get too bogged down, and, importantly, helps us not to be always taking ourselves so seriously. It is very easy to fall into the trap that you must somehow fulfill your main practice at all costs, and as quickly as possible, that to divert is a sign of weakness or lack of commitment. As long as whatever you are contemplating is an aspect of Dharma, then you cannot ever be off the path. But always see these wonderings as a supplement to the form of practice that you are committed to. I am aware that a lot of practitioners don’t have a specific form of practice as their main focus but rather have a variety of options and choose whichever one they think is appropriate at any given time. If changing meditation practices is done with a teacher who suggests picking an option, then that is fine. But from my experience most practitioners make the choice themselves, and often for unskilful reasons, for example: not getting anywhere, boredom, not in the right mood, etc. It is my understanding and experience that authentic understanding and change comes from learning to stay with a very specific form of practice without diversion, usually for years. It is often the case that change takes place not because of the specific practice being cultivated, but rather through developing the ability to stay with one practice.

A. Having commitment to the practice, being willing to take this commitment into the whole of your life, without picking and choosing, gives you the platform necessary for your innate, shining, perfect awareness to be more present. I believe it is unskilful to think that the purpose of our practice is somehow to be aware all the time. This notion will set up a tension, so when we believe that we are not aware enough in our day, then we are failing and we begin to develop negativity. I believe authentic change and genuine understanding takes place within the framework of commitment. Commitment to come back to ourselves whenever we catch ourselves wandering off into distractions, not being perfectly aware. The commitment to come back, and to come back, over and over again, with awareness of what is in front of us, is, I believe, the key to change. Practice is not about perfecting awareness! If you attach to that concept you will soon become downhearted and negative about yourself and your teachers, as this will never be achieved. ‘Perfection’ is nothing more than a figment of the human imagination. The great ideal of perfect awareness should be seen as something to aspire to, rather than to achieve. A valuable lesson can be learnt from contemplating this most important spiritual paradox. Simply remember, and remind yourself continually, that cultivating wholehearted commitment to practice in the four postures is the key to making yourself more awake.

A. If I were to give up a particular practice I am sure it would be because it didn’t feel like the right practice for me. Rather than not simply being successful at it. If it doesn’t feel right for you, then fine. But if you are looking for success as a criterion, then I’m not so sure about it. All forms of practice need commitment and the ability to stay with the forces that we need to stay with, as we learn to grow into something we are totally unfamiliar with. It is from this ability to grow into a practice that the changes we all desire take place. In your question you are comparing practices that may have quite sharp philosophical differences, and this is where your own disposition plays a big part, and what inspires you to take up a particular practice. With reference to the pure awareness practice, what is important to understand is that it pays no attention to any specific posture, but rather sees all of one’s life as a ‘seamless’ whole. I hope you are practising with a teacher, for to bring pure awareness practice to the whole of your life will not be possible without one.

A. If people are really ‘self-seeking’, then the whole process of practice becomes extremely questionable. If they really are in this state of mind, then all that is going to change is their ego as it becomes ever more deluded and entrenched. Actually, people in this state of ‘practice’ will never really ever enter the transforming process anyway. One of the greatest traps that we westerners fall into is that in our desire for change, it is the self itself that needs to do the changing. If we understand Dharma to be like this, then it is extremely doubtful that any sort of meaningful change could ever take place. It is crucial to be able to tell the difference between doing something in order to gain and performing ‘skillful means’; skilful means encourage and lead us to letting go, not only of the delusion of ‘me and mine’, but also of the ‘skillful means’ itself, which is helping us to let go. There is yet another form of practice that doesn’t even encourage working with any of the Buddhist ‘skillful means’ at all, but rather points straight to letting go of our attachments. I don’t believe it is possible to engage correctly with any form of practice without a teacher, at least a teacher that has guided us for a good few years. We will inevitably get it wrong, as we are so conditioned into doing something in order to get something in return. Spiritual practice is paradoxical, with spiritual understanding even more so. We need to see that although there is an apparent ‘self-seeking’, ‘doing’ motivation, we are in fact always nurturing the spirit of letting the practice go – we are not being deceived into attaching to the practice. This apparent contradiction can only be guarded against with the skilful engagement of a teacher who sees these dangers.

A. Buddhism will always say that no matter what our circumstances, it is our relationship with these circumstances that really matters. Through practice we refine our relationship with experiences and situations. We apply new-found degrees of ethical behaviour, or with growing awareness we may take more control of situations that hitherto we have found difficult. Over time we become more aware of skilful and unskilful actions. We can often change circumstances of daily (external) life, but there are also times when we aren’t going to be able to do this. At times life just throws us into situations that we would rather not be in, which we find difficult to deal with. However, the same principle applies in both these ‘internal’ and ‘external’ situations. We respond to circumstances and do our best to work with our emotional reactions/attachments. Sometimes it’s like this, and sometimes it’s like that – this is life, and our training ground is always dealing with how things are, and seldom the way we would like them to be.

A. Through time and diligent practice we become more and more aware of the arising of thoughts, and crucially our attachment to them. Through awareness we see that it is our own attachment to those thoughts that make them ‘real’ and ‘substantial’. We discover through awareness that if we learn to leave them alone, they lose their power over us and stay in their original form of being transparent, ‘neutral’, and something that is always simply arising and passing away. I’m not sure when on the path thoughts stop arising, but their arising or not arising is not the issue. It is identifying with them as being ‘me and mine’, and learning through awareness to leave them alone, that is at the heart of wisdom.

A. Once I spent quite some time thoroughly looking into sleep and my apparent attachment to it. This proved to be quite a difficult experience to clarify, simply because whatever else may be at play in our relationship with sleep, sleep is also nature’s way of keeping us alive and healthy – so it’s also beyond any attachment we may develop towards it. In some ways it is similar to our relationship with sex. Most of us are driven to want sex at sometime or other because it’s nature’s way of propagating the species and therefore needs to seen as natural. But we can also over-identify with what is natural by hijacking nature’s way and pouring our emotional insecurities, fears and loneliness into the experience, making it ‘mine’, which then takes our desires way beyond the ‘natural’ urge. I think the same principle applies to sleep. The example you give clearly shows that your desire for sleep is likely a way of avoiding something emotional that you are finding difficult to experience. You are choosing to avoid whatever it is by losing consciousness. Your natural need to sleep seems to have been hijacked by a subtle unconscious desire to avoid something about yourself. Being a practitioner, if I were to have this sort of experience, I would get into the habit of not giving into that desire to crash out during such experiences, but rather stay awake and learn to open to whatever it is that is difficult. We are creatures of habit and conditioning; learn to break that habit and by doing so you will learn something about yourself that could be very valuable.

A. Yes, it could be. We must be careful not to imagine that the state of pure awareness is somehow an abstract state of being, a sort of blankness or a sort of lack of life. Pure awareness is our natural state of being/aliveness that has the crystal clear perception of ‘knowing how things really are’; yet it is out of that knowing that the world of greed, hatred and delusion somehow springs and clouds the truth. But who – or what – is it that knows? The quest for that answer is the spiritual journey that our pure awareness practice embarks upon.

A. This really is the old chestnut, and a subject covered elsewhere in the forum. I think both sides of the divide have a good case, so when all has been said I think it is a decision to be made by each of us as individuals, and that each ‘side’ needs to respect such decisions. I’m quite sure there were shops at the time of the Buddha that had lines of slaughtered chickens for sale. All I can add is that there is nothing in the traditional scriptures that instructs us not to eat meat. The Buddha’s only involvement with this subject was to clearly explain the conditions that create unwholesome (akusala) karma by the taking of life for food. You may also like to note that none of the long-standing traditions are vegetarian. But if you wish to argue that man’s consciousness has moved on since ancient Indian times, then let your own conscience define your ethical values, rather than wait to be told what to do.

A. Too many choices. This I see as a huge challenge for us in the modern world to work with. Historically, those aspiring to practising the Way had for the most part few chances to raise their own personal horizons in the ways that we can through, for example, life-transforming education or wealth accumulation. They would have been familiar with a more simple grounded life and, crucially, not have had the option of chopping and changing traditions when things became difficult for them. They would have accepted what was probably the only tradition that existed in their country, so denying mara the opportunity he or she now has in the West of tempting them to avoid their difficulties by hopping around from one to another of the many Buddhist schools or traditions on offer. So surely life would have been so much simpler than ours today, and probably involved just one outstanding desire – spiritual fulfilment? Back in those times it would surely have been the norm to accept that simplicity, and be grateful they had a roof over their heads, clothes on their backs, and food in their stomachs. With these basics gratefully in place, they could give themselves to the practice whilst accepting their conditions, and not have to deal with the sort of restlessness for a ‘better’ material life that plagues most of us today. Simplicity and acceptance are two of the most crucial virtues needed for spiritual transformation, yet we in the West have not much of either.

A. Maybe your experience showed you how close you really are to that which is beyond our normal entrapment of self-perception. In those moments you lost your self and tasted the spaciousness and freedom that is so close to us, yet we rarely experience it. Usually we are looking somewhere for release from this self-confinement, and never realise that we are actually living out of that freedom each and every moment. Maybe your experience of the waterfall brought upon you the quietness of mind that sometimes allows us to glimpse the tranquility of our true nature.

A. Dharma practice is about letting go. Letting go of our desires and aversions driven by this sense of self. This is a lovely ideal, but when we come to put the theories into practice and begin to taste how practice works, then we can have a few shocks as to what we’ve let ourselves in for. Our life begins to change, and also the aspirations that we previously cherished. We discover that when we begin to let go of our attachment to our desires, those very desires very often begin to fall away as well. We discover that those desires weren’t for fulfillment in life, but were there for another reason, and that was to solely enhance the self. Now we are learning to let go of the self, certain life aspirations, as we had thought of them, begin to recede into the background as well. This can result in a sense of fear and loss. “What is life all about, if it isn’t about pursuing what I want?” can be the cry. There will be emptiness and loneliness. To let go of self-motivating desires will be like dying, we will feel sad and desolate at our loss. But we learn to trust the Dharma, and stay with what is a basic existential experience. If we have faith and trust in the Dharma, through practice we begin to hand ourselves into that ‘dying’, to find a rebirth begins to take place. A rebirth that isn’t self-possessed, but a rebirth that is truly mysterious. It is mysterious because it is our true self, and that true self is spacious and spontaneous, and beyond the cycle of birth and death. The true self that is fearless and warm-hearted.

A. This type of practice is something I’m not at all experienced with, and is definitely not in the spirit of the DharmaMind group or this website. My background is in Zen, whose spirit is not one of labelling or dissecting experience. While I do not consider myself to be a Zen practitioner these days, I have never left that spirit behind. The danger with wanting to label and compartmentalise what we are experiencing at this moment is that we can distance ourselves from the impact of the experience, and that can subtly lead us to disowning our relationship with that experience. We can take it into the realm of theory and labels rather than dealing with the emotional impact of whatever it may be. We discover through practice that in fact we spend so much of our time putting a space between ourselves and life’s experiences anyway, seeing it to be a sort of safety device that allows us to avoid the emotional reaction that can be both fearful and challenging. This can create a sense of dissatisfaction and lack of fulfilment in life because we are only living a part of it. Noting that danger, Buddhism does offers us many fine practices that do use systems of labelling and box-filling in pursuit of wisdom.