Wake Up and Laugh!

Yesterday I had the good fortune to be at our main temple for monks, Kwang-myong Sa. Daehaeng Kun Sunim  had gone there for a visit, and it also turned out to be one of the nicest days of the year.  

We’ve been working for a few years on building a new Dharma hall, completing each phase as money is saved to pay for it.

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

The world we live in
is none other than the realm of Buddha.
Here it is forever Spring,
flowers bloom without end,
and the fragrant path is ever open.
 – A Thousand Hands of Compassion

As a teenager, to the bewilderment of my family, I became a Christian. My memories of that period are of long summers, walking across the gorgeous East Anglian countryside totally in love with the trees and fields and birds and insects, praising God in everything I saw.  I’d walk from church to church across farmland and along country lanes, and never left the divine presence.

A couple of decades later my interest in things spiritual re-awoke and, living in Thailand, I looked to Buddhism. I loved the temples and Buddha images and the devotion of the Thai people, but recoiled from teachings that denied the beauty of this world. To this day I disagree with the Four Noble Truths, I don’t see life as only suffering and I don’t want to eliminate love for life.

I remember going to hear a Therevada monk give a talk on developing dispassion in which he used a day trip to see a waterfall as an example of the human condition. After traveling up into the mountains, everyone looks at the waterfall for a few minutes and then, seconds later, they’re eating their sandwiches – ready for the next distraction. So, what use waterfalls?

It’s only recently I’ve seen how Buddhism truly encompasses a love of, and even gratitude for, this very world we live in. I saw it first in the sheer attention to beauty in most Korean temples. But then I saw how that lovely balance of building, stream, woods and mountains didn’t come about by accident, how it was a manifestation of a core teaching I’d overlooked.

Yet I have trouble seeing this world as the Pure Land. After all, that’s where I’ll be taken by Amida Buddha and the Bodhisattvas after death. This world, with its violence and cruelty, is far from pure. Even in its pristine state, creatures live and die by eating each other. Illness, old age and death touch us all. The Buddha wanted to transcend this, the Therevadans and Pure Landers are both right – our task is to just get out.

And yet, doesn’t the idea that this very realm is no other than the Buddha-realm accord with my earliest, and possibly deepest, spiritual experiences as I communed with all the creative energy and beauty of the world? Doesn’t the teaching that we are all connected through this power-source of Buddha-nature accord exactly with my impulse for appreciation and gratitude?

I take refuge in one mind,
remaining just as it is, it ceaselessly takes care of all things.
I take refuge in one mind,
with all-embracing harmony it saves all beings everywhere.
I take refuge in one mind, which completely looks after all beings throughout the world and universe.
I take refuge in one mind,
with a single thought transcending time and space, it nurtures all.
I take refuge in one mind, endlessly giving light to all.
 – The Thousand Hands of Compassion

Thinking back, looking up at those huge East Anglian skies and resting in the all-encompassing arms of God didn’t mean that all my pain went away, it did mean I had, in some small way, transcended it, even transformed it. And it happened not through practice or meditation, not through Buddhology or Theology, but through resting and appreciating and letting go.

You only need to breathe lightly
for the miracles to be displayed.
Suddenly you hear the birds singing,
the pines chanting;
you see flowers blooming,
the blue sky,
the white clouds,
the smile and the marvelous look
of your beloved.
 – From ‘Our True Heritage’, a poem by Thich Nhat Hanh

And now I think of it, that monk I heard in Thailand those years ago had a point. What use waterfalls if you then simply head for the sandwiches? But if you bring to the waterfall your time and peace and appreciation, if you are in touch with that part of yourself that is deep and still and peaceful, then, yes, life also is deep and still and peaceful and we can taste the Pure Land.

So, for me, the Pure Land remains a destination after I die and I make no apologies for my faith, but what I have learnt from masters such as Thich Nhat Hanh and Daehaeng Sunim, is how to spend more time in the Pure Land whilst in this realm now. Something that accords with my experience and makes sense to me. Pain and suffering doesn’t go away, but it can be seen for what it is, a necessary part of being alive. And being alive is wonderful.

Things here have been a bit busy as we get ready for the bookfair in Frankfurt this October. One of the projects we’ve been working on is a Spanish-English edition of a great Dharma talk by Daehaeng Kun Sunim.  Her focus in this talk is on the necessity of us connecting with this inherent nature, the effects of being able to connect with it, and the need to function from that place.  There are some great lines in this talk where she really lays it bare for the practitioner; here’s one that got my attention!  If your thoughts just spill out your mouth, you won’t be able to make this connection!

 Here is the excerpt:
 

My overall point is this: people who want to discover their fundamental mind, shouldn’t allow themselves to be drawn outwardly by the things that happen to them. Instead, they must take everything that confronts them and return it inwardly.

Even though you have a good intellectual understanding of what I’m saying, please, please don’t mistake that for true understanding. Instead, have firm faith in your inherent foundation, and entrust every single thing there.

No matter what confronts you, your practice needs to be such that when you quietly entrust something to your fundamental mind, that which you entrusted will change and manifest back into the world. Your understanding and practice have to be translated into action.

Only then will you be able to truly deal with all the problems of your life, your family, and even the Earth. 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Copyright 2010 the Hanmaum Seonwon Foundation

In 1929, Hanam Sunim was asked about how to practice after enlightenment,  but I think his answer applies just as well to any point in our practice.  There’s also a bit of practical advice about how to avoid false teachers (or becoming one yourself!)

Yong-jia (永嘉玄覺, 665-713) said about people who are satisfied with one enlightenment experience and so stop practicing: “Saying that everything is empty, yet ignoring cause and effect, and behaving badly is to invite disaster.”

Don’t follow the example of those shallow people who misunderstand the meaning, who are too stubborn, who ignore the principle of cause and effect, and who don’t understand that what they receive is the result of their own actions.

If you don’t awaken to the living word and see only words and letters, or if you are caught by right and wrong, then you won’t be able to gather any strength, and your speech will not be in accord with your actions, so you won’t be able to avoid becoming one of those people who overestimate the level of their own practice. Thus you must have very sincere determination.

I have been catching a bit of Thich Nhat Hanh on Buddhist TV lately. Last night he really left an impression on me, like never before, or, perhaps I have been “away” too long.

He talked about nourishing positivity in us, and steering away from the negative.

He also said something that surprised me just a little; ‘when you have a positive feeling, or are around a positive person, ask it/her to stay. Maintain it in your mind.’ It sounded a little like attachment, but I know that isn’t what he meant.

Finally, He said what we already know from the Buddha; that we nourish our depression, our anger, our negativity, and so it is a choice.

When he spoke about the negative outcome of our nourishment, thoughts, actions, and finally our states of mind, he talked of course about suffering. But he said that suffering is necessary. He even said that suffering is a part of the kingdom of God; it’s necessary for the understanding of pain, and thus the growth of compassion. I really appreciate Thich Nhat Hanh making Zen inclusive, rather than exclusive.

In the end, he sounded like Dae Heng Sunim, the Buddha, and all Zennists; we are all part of one another, just as the clouds are part of the flowers we see, meaning no one thing happens or exists without everything else; a lesson to not see ourselves as separate, which leads to self-righteousness and blame.

In Korea, there is a Buddhist TV network called 불교TV (BulGyo TV). I don’t watch it often, but occasionally I’ll leave it on for a while if they are broadcasting temple chanting or scenes from temples around the country. Most of the times I check, there are Dharma talks, occasionally in English, and once I even saw a cooking show hosted by a nun.

A few days ago, my wife was flicking through the channels and called me over, “Look, I think this is Daehaeng Kun Sunim on TV.”

For those of you who know her face, it is memorably distinct, and it was, indeed, Kun Sunim on TV.

In the short bit that I was able to translate (loosely) from the talk, she told the large group of nuns, monks, and lay-practitioners,

Our body is like a ship and our mind is the pilot. If the pilot is unsteady, how can the ship keep straight?

“With one thought, evil karma accumulated over endless eons disappears, leaving nothing behind, like dry grass in a fire.”
– A Thousand Hands of Compassion

Funny how life is. One minute things are going nicely, and the next, seemingly out of nowhere, everything is Dukkha. Wobbly axle? Uncomfortably grinding along? Tell me about it. My beloved flew back to Japan and, feeling miserable, I sat and watched too much TV. With no practice I became yet more unsettled and this downward spiral led, as it always does with me, to my becoming argumentative and quietly angry. Especially on-line, but off-line too. At work, and at Sangha.

I believe in Hell Realms, real places that truly exist. The Buddha certainly did, and there are hundreds of Sutras from all Buddhist traditions that go into great detail describing the gruesome tortures that await the unfortunates destined to go there, in many cases for kalpa after kalpa, for thousands of millions of years.

Genju recently discussed these realms on her wonderful blog 108zenbooks and Joseph posted a fabulous follow-up soon after. One of the points raised in their discussions was how hell is a reality just as much in this realm as in others. Not just in terms of the vast swathes of human suffering existing on this planet, but as mental states that we all of us experience. And this was certainly true for me this week.

Thank goodness for Sangha. In this case, the usual Monday evening Littlebang meditation group. My sit was awful, my mind at fever-pitch, and although I can’t say that the meditation helped in any direct way, it certainly revealed just how off-centre I was running. And although, while in this hell of the past few days, I never killed anyone or stole anything or slept around or lied or took intoxicants, I saw that on a subtler level my mind was certainly generating the energy that would run in such a direction. Heading, in fact, straight for hell.

Just as some new western Buddhists may be surprised to learn of the existence of myriad Buddhist Hell realms (their existence taken for granted throughout Asian Buddhism), others might also be surprised to learn how important confession and repentance is in Buddhism. But for me, this week, it was my way out of the fire. Daehaeng Kun Sunim’s modern translation of the Thousand Hands Sutra, ‘A Thousand Hands of Compassion’, is a beautiful book with a text perfect for slow devotional reading and repetition.

“All harmful deeds I have committed, all unwise actions arising from greed and desire, all harm done through my body, speech, and thought, I now repent of this and all other harm I have caused.”

And with that I re-commit myself. Just as I’ve done before, and just as I’ll do again, but each time is better. I re-vow to watch my energies and the directions in which I send them. Practically speaking, it means I approach people a little differently than before, with less hostility and more kindness, I remove myself from my latest Internet debates (arguing on the web is probably my very worst habit and still a tough one to break) and I treat myself more kindly too. After all, this hell burns me more than anyone else.

The photo that accompanies this seems to sum up everything I want to say. It was taken by my beloved when she was here a week or so ago and says everything that needs to be said about our lives. Heaven, Hell, student, teacher – I’m sure I’ve experienced all in previous lives, just as I know I’ve experienced all in this life; we just keep cycling round and round all the time. The way out is to look towards the Buddha, and – just as in the picture – to find the Buddha at the very centre.

For myself, I’m not really very concerned with the question of inside or outside. I believe in the Buddhas and Bodhisattvas, but I also believe that they manifest within me through my own Buddha-nature, a Buddha-nature that is shared with all. In either case, the point is to step aside and allow the Buddha to manifest. Having done that, and this week it was through repentance, what then of hell? In relying fully upon the Buddha or Buddha-nature, everything both is, and is heading towards, peace, compassion, and wordless wisdom.

“Amitabha Buddha
existing with my mind,
I vow to hurry and meet.”
– A Thousand Hands of Compassion

Links:
Somewhere in Dhamma: Hell Realms
108zenbooks: no sin, no self