All is Buddha, Within and Without

   I have gone into a kind of caffeine remission for a few days now, having decided to cut it out from my life. When I meditated tonight, I felt a sense of clarity but also the sense of missing caffeine. Perhaps there is something in it that gives me a boost of energy in the brain. But in any case, I simply rested in the sense of "this is what is", without trying to compare it to a better state of mind that I imagine exists. 

   What I have observed in the process of doing this "experiment" of sorts is that the ordinary mind seems to always be involved in a sense of dukkha, or dissatisfaction with "what is". I am always feeling that things are never enough, because my mind is in this state of movement. Only through meditation can I get a taste, if only for a moment, of what life is like when we are no longer striving for things, nor rejecting things either. Things are the way they are, much like a cluttered room can have a lot of things, but these things don't have an impact on the actual space itself.

   Meditation is a kind of special turning toward "what is" that can only happen when we initially apply a method of calming our mind. But when this happens, we can get a sense of spaciousness. I begin to realize that I am no longer a prisoner to my thoughts. The thoughts are coming and going, and I don't need to hold onto any sense of self. This is the meditation on "simply let go".

    I was editing an article tonight for DDM which talks about the "original face" before there is good and evil, right and wrong etc. As soon as I observe something I dislike, I immediately start to go to these default labels of right and wrong, not realizing that this kind of incessant judgment only implicates me in more bad karma. It's always best to drop all judgments of what is happening, but to hold to a high standard within oneself. By refraining from adding to the bustle of the world, I can go back to my original face at any time and realize that everything is just a manifestation of Buddha nature.

 Everything has the basic essence of impermanence, emptiness and no-self.  There is nothing that lasts forever. Even a very sharp pain in our bodies will not stay in our minds forever, because it's fundamental truth lies in its fleeting, conditional nature. Emptiness, similarly, entails that all we experience is the arising of cause and conditions that interconnect. The pain, frustration or agitation that we feel can never be attributed to simply one thing, but is the result of momentary coinciding of many factors. No-self means that we experience the lack of a stable reference point in anything. A rose is a rose--or is it? If you look very carefully, you will find an agglomerate of many things, such as petals, thorns, soil, and a stem. These elements make up the form that we then refer to as a "rose" (name) after which we derive many sensations (smell, sight, touch), perceptions, likes, dislikes and mental associations (a rose symbolizes love, for instance). All of these come together to make what appears to be a solid, enduring body, when in fact, there is nothing whatsoever there that is called a rose that we can point to as its essence.

With this in mind, I shouldn't waste a moment feeling frustrated when things don't go my way, or a sense of loss when I lose an opportunity, or even a sense of despair at a "lack of purpose". In the end, all is Buddha, within and without. all is suchness. There is nothing to attain. It's all the fundamental nature of all being reflected in individual beings.  And each and every thought is a reminder that we are here, and this "here" is all there ever is.

Diamond Sutra Midnight Meanderings (Part 1)

 In the Diamond Sutra the Buddha speaks of four ideas that a true bodhisattva does not attach to. These ideas, referred to as “characteristics” are: “self,” “other,” “sentient beings,” and “lifespan.” Actually, all four characteristics derive from the first, the idea of self (from Tea Words Volume 1, Master Sheng Yen)

If there is a notion of self and other that is illusory, is there any reason to "give"? A bodhisattva gives without attachment to a sense of self and others, but shouldn't there be a sense of "other beings" suffering that would motivate generosity and compassion?

When we experience suffering of any kind, it's all through the same mind. Whether it's "my" or "your" suffering, all of these perceptions are created by the mind. I experience "myself" and "others" with the same mind. Therefore, if I am truly liberated from notions of self, others, sentient beings, and lifespan, then I wouldn't be worried about keeping anything to myself. What's mine really belongs to all, because the mind encompasses all.

This doesn't mean that I give indiscriminately or unwisely. It means that I take all of this experience to be the mind. Mind is the screen through which all the characters of "me", "you", "they", "sentient beings", "non-sentient beings", and so on, are making their way. If I say I should donate all my money to you, then I am equally deluded as saying I should keep the money to myself. Why? Because I believe that there are real selves that have money. Do the characters on a movie screen actually "own" money? Think about it. Do they have clothes? Only if you take the images to be real will you start to invest in those images things like "belonging", "possesses", is "entitled" to etc.

The point is not to abandon the conventional notions of self, others, sentient beings and lifespans. These notions are needed if we are to communicate with each other in the world and even get things done. At work, Boss A has to choose between Tom, Jack and Mary in terms of who gets the promotion. People need to have names so that they can identify themselves. But the point is that we should not be too attached to these designations, because at the end of the day, Tom, Jack and Mary are constructions of the mind. We all even have different constructions of each character. I like Tom better than Mary, but you see Mary as a saint. Who are we to say which "Mary" is the "real" Mary? Mary is only a series of perceptions created by the mind. Same for "me" and "you".

When I fully embody the notion that sentient beings are only appearances of the mind, then my mind stops discriminating between the different parts of what I see. Friends cease to be friends, enemies cease to be enemies. I am able to see that the mind only creates these labels based on conditioning and, most importantly, the attachment to self. When someone criticizes "me", is this "me" more important than the critic? In fact both "me" and the "critic" are created by mind. Why should one assume more importance than the other? Furthermore, the two thoughts of "me" and "critic" don't even interact with each other. I too create the notion of "me" and "the critic" interacting to create the interchange of criticism and response.

But when all is said and done, who am I liberating when I realize this? It's only a kind of dream, so there is no one to liberate after all! All the dramas were created by mind. So the only real liberation is when we let go of self and other and recognize that it's all created by the mind.

The ultimate gift is to let go. That is all. Let go of naming, judging and labeling. Only be in this moment, and that is all. That is a gift without a giver and without a receiver. It just is but it encompasses all that we see equally.

Looking for Shoulds in Pains

  Reflecting on when pain becomes suffering, is there a specific point where we become over-attached to pain and it therefore becomes suffering? In this day and age of health fixes and naturopathy, we would do anything to buy a magic elixir that dashes away all the pains from our body, including uncomfortable headaches and the like. But I would like to suggest that, rather than focusing on pain itself, we need to focus on the line between pain and suffering. I believe that for the most part, pain becomes suffering when some aspect of pain becomes a kind of "should" where we assume a subject that ought to feel better and "be better" compared to others. Pain thus becomes a construct where we perceive ourselves as potentially having less restriction than we actually do.

   The mind naturally compares past to present. I imagine a "better" time somewhere in the past when I had a more youthful body or fewer frustrations. But is that person "real" or only a construct of my mind? In fact everything is really only mental constructs that come up in the present, which often make us believe that something is better than something else. Then we long for some "golden age" that presumably existed in the past, where we were completely pure, innocent and untouched by the scrapes and scarring of a life.

   Not only that, but we are then promised magical elixirs that are supposed to make us feel stronger and better. But the underlying problem is that we can never compare one moment to the next, and these moments, too, are fleeting. We can never go back to a "ground zero" point because there never was one. Again, things change all the time.

   The solution is not to try to eliminate pain altogether but rather, to stop trying to attribute pain to an agent. We don't blame ourselves for bodily discomfort (we have them all the time) and don't attribute these discomforts to a fixed self. After all, pain is only a phenomena and it's one of many sensations that travel through the body. If we are able to separate the pain from our sense of self and not associate one with a self, then the true nature of pain is seen as empty.

Background Music

 Whenever I walk into a Starbucks, there is nearly always some kind of background music playing, likely designed to attract customers, to set a cool trend, or, more pragmatically, to drown out the sounds of people chatting. Starbucks is, after all, just a big meeting place, similar to an auditorium or a conference room, only replete with baristas and the like. And, having worked in music copyright for so many years, I know the value of background music as a supplementary element to an organization's profits. Without music, there is simply a lack of ambiance that is needed to make customers feel at ease.

   In meditation, we are often asked the question, is it ok (or even ideal) if I meditate while listening to music? At the most recent meditation event that we hosted, we used music to help new participants feel at ease and less bored or distracted by the sitting practice. It seems effective in the context of a beginner's practice, but for me, I don't see music as a necessary element to one's meditative practice.

   Thoughts are similar to background music, in the sense that they come out from our unconscious and tend to linger in spite of our best efforts. I tell participants in our beginning classes that we should never treat our thoughts as the enemy, since doing so will only stir up the mind and make it very tense and tired. I sometimes even show a glass snowball to meditation newcomers. Shaking the ball is analogous to trying to suppress one's thoughts or even fight with them. On the other hand, when we simply let the thoughts settle of their own accord and work toward relaxing our tendency to grasp these thoughts, then we are in a better position to see through them.

   One exercise that I think it worthy to try is something like the following: if ever you find it difficult to put down wandering thoughts and distractions, try to imagine that the thoughts are just random flotsam debris, and there is a vast mirrorlike awareness that is supporting all that debris. The awareness can never be disturbed by the random thoughts; it just is in the midst of those thoughts, and it allows them all to co-exist together. What thoughts are you having now? Are you able to simply be there with those thoughts without attaching any particular importance to them individually? Since all thoughts co-exist together in this vast mirrorlike mind--likes, cravings, dislikes, distractions, disturbances, ego bashing and so on--in a sense, these thoughts are simply the chaotic members of a happy family. And mind is simply sitting with them, not pandering to one or the other, and simply knowing "what is is I need to do now?" 

   But mind doesn't attach to what it needs to do now...it simply knows it, and gently steers in the direction of what it needs to do. In this way, there is no need for our thoughts to compete for our attention. These thoughts are all treated equally, and therefore, the mind becomes settled enough to know clearly which thoughts are worthy of being followed and which are not.

   Only when the mind is relaxed can it perform effectively amidst the many chaotic events of the day. And truly, the mind can be comfortable in a situation where there is little control, because the mind does not need to control or subdue any of the arising conditions. These changes are not a threat to the mind, only to the small sense of self that insists on being in control of arising things. 

    If we adopt this approach when we meditate, and simply try to see beyond all thought without trying to subdue thought, then thought becomes like the background music at Starbucks. We are not trying to get rid of it, but it is not of utmost importance to our being. We need to stay with that.

Meditation and Adventure

  We don't often associate meditation with a sense of adventure.  But when I step beyond the confines of what I expect to happen, I start to acknowledge that there is so little I know about what will happen. Stepping out of one's comfort zone is not so bad when one becomes aware that nothing has ever been certain. When I recognize this, I let go of the craving for comfort and try to open up more to the sense of "what is". And this can be quite an adventure.

   During the talk this past weekend at U of T, Venerable Chang Xing talked about being flexible like bamboo. Bamboo embodies the sense of being both strong and flexible at the same time. Another analogy he used that is derived from the plant world is the "leaf in the wind", which is open to whatever circumstances happen to arise in the moment. This kind of approach requires an attitude of "no assumptions"-- or at least putting all assumptions aside to embrace what's happening in the moment.  On a more subtle level, it may imply begin able to see the perfection in every moment and embrace it. With a spirit of gratitude, I can recognize that not everything is "falling apart" and some things do support us as needed.

  When all else fails, we can always go back to the method of contemplating wants vs needs, and recognizing that our attachment to having things a certain way comes from confusing wants with needs. We may want things to go in a certain way, but is it truly a "need"? If we don't get it, are we able to safely let go of it, accepting that it's only a kind of desire that is arising in the mind? 

   These types of attitudes require a lot of hard work, especially the sense of anchoring and grounding to know that we don't need as many things as we imagine. But when we embrace that sense of not requiring a lot of things, our hands become open to carrying new things and having new adventures.

Enjoy Impermanence

 When all is said and done, all that we can be certain of is "now". But Six Patriarch Huineng has told us that even "now" doesn't exist as a concrete entity that we can somehow "freeze" in time. Maybe we should start using "now" as a verb rather than as a noun--that is, to speak of "nowing" instead of simply treating "now" a a frozen or fixed moment in time. But again, as Huineng remarks, while the future is unattainable and past is also ungraspable, so even the present is not something we can attach to. The present literally is a going concern, much like the ever changing currents of the river.

   Most of the problems of personal and human life can be traced to tendencies to freeze things into fixed moments. If we ever look at celebrity gossip, tabloids or even the conversations we engage in daily life, we often treat people around us as though they were these fixed characters that exist "out there", independently of the way we are constructing them. We "freeze" people in space and time, similar to the way a hunted animal is mounted on a wall. We want to somehow catch some essential truth about the world, so we go ahead and classify everything around us according to these neat categories such as "good", "bad", "wholesome", "unwholesome" etc. And as I was mentioning to my student during our class on disaster narratives, we sometimes even like to reduce other people to tragic accidents, for the sake of feeling better about ourselves. For instance, I may say "that person over there is making a mess of his life", and secretly enjoy the fact that my life is "more together" than his. This is the kind of mentality that gives rise to avarice and competition rather than an easy and relaxed mind.

   Another thing I have noticed about myself is that sometimes I might feel badly about something I have done and then conclude, I am "bad at" doing something. This then creates a cycle where I withdraw from engagement and continue to judge who I am based on one or two incidents. When I catch myself doing this, I realize that I am punishing myself with a a previous thought that has already passed. If I am truly a harsh judge, I also project onto others judgments that they often don't share with me. This again creates a cycle of withdrawal from the world.

   Perhaps the best way to be is to keep a mind that is open to each changing moment, and does not hold on so tightly to images, whether of self or others. This is the way to a more fluid reality. Another way is to enjoy the fact that what is here today will change tomorrow. Reading about the theory of evolution helps in this regard. We can marvel at the fact that species change to cope with new environments all the time, and adaptation allows for new ways of engaging the world. Everything we do, in fact, can be seen as a kind of learning experience that can be seen positively.

Detaching from the Outcome

 During our mindfulness workshop at U of T today, entitled "Returning to a Gentle Pace", I learned about the idea of detaching from the outcome. What exactly is "detachment" and how does it apply to our real life? When we detach, does that mean we live without any real emotional investments whatsoever? The concept of detachment can be quite tricky to understand, since we sometimes associate it with a lack of emotion. But one thing I have realized is that detachment doesn't mean that we don't care about things. It means that we do our best to take care of things that we are able to, without attaching to the outcome of our care.

   I think the point of detachment is that when we recognize that there are so many possible causes and conditions acting in different ways, we let go of perfection. With this recognition comes the realization of impermanence, knowing that things are subject to change all the time. This does not entail nihilism or a why bother kind of attitude, since nihilism is also a form of attachment! A person who is extremely nihilistic or cynical about life is attached to the idea of failure, to the point where they believe that nothing is worth embarking upon unless there is a guarantee of permanent success and achievement. 

   A middle path might be to say that even though things are impermanent, the flow of life connects us to other beings, and we should not stop that flow through a deluded attachment to static things.