From the Pure Land Podcast – Détails, épisodes et analyse

Kintsugi is the Japanese art of repairing broken pottery with a lacquer mixed with powdered gold. The image came to me as I considered a brief way to describe tonglen, the Tibetan Buddhist meditation practice of breathing in the suffering of others and breathing out healing. We receive what’s broken and return what’s whole.

The practice of kintsugi, which began in 14th-century Japan, demonstrates how beauty can be found in imperfection. It’s linked to the philosophy of wabi-sabi, acceptance of impermanence and imperfection. It may be that wabi-sabi is related to early Japanese Buddhism and Zen. Here’s a link to an essay that explores the traditions.

That’s a lot to take in, so let’s pause for a brief silent contemplation of suffering and healing…brokenness and wholeness…impermanence and beauty.

The teachings of the revered 8th-century Buddhist philosopher Shantideva are sometimes cited as the basis for tonglen. In what has become a classic Buddhist text, The Way of the Bodhisattva, he wrote:

Do not be downcast, but marshal all your powers; Make an effort; be the master of yourself! Practice the equality of self and other; Practice the exchange of self and other.

Lojong (mind-training) practices expanded on the exchange of self and other. Here’s Verse 7 from Eight Verses of Training the Mind, written in the 11th or 12th century:

In brief, directly or indirectly, I will offer help and happiness to all my mothers, And secretly take upon myself All their hurt and suffering.

“Mothers” here means all beings, based on the Tibetan belief that every being has been the mother of every other being over the eons.

Before practicing tonglen, one should feel grounded. I’d suggest avoiding it unless you feel whole. On the other hand, if you’re comfortable with your spiritual path and meditation practice, practicing tonglen in a generalized way can help you develop your compassion and loving-kindness.

By that, I mean imagining the peace and well-being within you as a substance with shape and color—then imagining the world’s suffering as another shape outside of you with a different color. You first ground yourself in the embodiment of your well-being and then begin breathing in the external substance and breathing out the internal healthy one.

At later stages, we can get more specific with our tonglen. Here’s where it’s especially wise not to do this unless you feel grounded in equanimity. If you’re an empath—especially vulnerable to absorbing others’ pain—this is not the practice for you. If you are comfortable in equanimity, you can relieve others’ suffering without taking on more pain. Your compassionate and loving equanimity is limitless, even if your empathy is not. That’s worth repeating:

Your compassionate and loving equanimity is limitless, even if your empathy is not.

I began practicing tonglen in a generalized way to enhance my loving-kindness and soon began applying it to individuals. I began with a man who has dementia and wants to live. I breathe in his disease and beathe out my strength. With another man with dementia—this one wanting to die—I breathed in any lingering thoughts that might be holding him back and breathed out my acceptance of death.

When I’m in the physical presence of the other person, I might add some Buddhist chants if they fit within that person’s belief system. Sometimes, I do tonglen for people hundreds or thousands of miles away. I believe strongly that the interconnected web is much more than a metaphor. Our thoughts, our intentions, our prayers, and our actions all have an impact near and far.

For this reason, tonglen brings healing to others as it reinforces one’s own loving-kindness. If you’d like to try it, I won’t take you further than you want. I’ll give you a few moments to find a comfortable and private place to meditate.

[Ring bell 3 times]

You’re relaxed with your back reasonably straight, so air can flow in and out smoothly. Your eyes can be open or closed. You scan your body to relax any knots of tension.

Focus your awareness on whatever part of your body is in contact with the ground or something else. What does that feel like? Does it have a temperature? Is there a vibration there?

Now, focus your attention on your breath. How does the air feel as it approaches and enters your nostrils? Follow it down into your lungs and then out again. You might try exhaling through your mouth. Inhale through your nose, exhale through your mouth.

Now, see if you can find an area of compassion, clarity, and wisdom within yourself. It’s not really in any one place. It’s limitless, but it may feel centered in your heart. Rest your awareness there.

Imagine before you a symbol of love, calm, and strength. The image could be in a human or other form. It’s whatever or whoever represents love, calm, and strength for you. It’s glowing with light like the sun’s as it dissolves into you.

As you breathe in, you feel its warmth. Now, you imagine before you a mass of suffering in a dark color—maybe gray. You feel as though the yellow glow within you is limitless so you exhale its warmth and light into the dark cloud and inhale the dark suffering, which becomes absorbed in the yellow within.

You continue like this for a while.

[Pause]

You can continue to inhale the world’s suffering and exhale a healing light, or if you are feeling stable and whole, you might imagine a loved one or perhaps a group that’s suffering. Imagine that person or group in front of you. Inhale the suffering and exhale the healing light.

You’re aware that exchanging your loving equanimity for the suffering of others benefits both the sender and receiver.

You can remain in a tonglen exchange with one or more people or with the world’s general suffering as long as it’s comfortable until you hear the bell ring three times.

[Long pause]

[Ring bell 3 times]

A dedication prayer to close:

By the power of this compassionate practice May suffering be transformed into peace. May the hearts of all beings be open And their wisdom radiate from within.

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I’m about to give vent to my contrarian side. Before I do, though, let’s consider what civilization was like when Gautama Buddha began teaching and as Buddhism spread throughout South, Southeast, and East Asia.

Siddhartha Gautama was born in the foothills of the Himalayas in what’s now Nepal, near the border with India. He taught there and in the Ganges Plain and acknowledged spiritual roots in the Indus Valley. It’s generally believed he lived for an 80-year span between 560 and 400 BCE.

We can’t know the texture of day-to-day life there and then, but it was an area of the world undergoing what then would be considered rapid change. The urban centers of the Indus Valley had collapsed, leading to a population shift eastward toward the Ganges Plain, where settlements were smaller and more widely dispersed. Tribal kingdoms were being absorbed into state formations.

The Vedic period was giving way in philosophy and religion. Spiritual life was rich and complex, with many mendicants wandering the plain and teaching practices to end rebirth and suffering. The Buddha studied with at least two of those and became one himself, a highly successful one. Upanishads were composed in that era, and modern Hinduism emerged, as did Jainism.

Along with these cultural changes came oppressive rulers, caste-based cruelty, exploitation of ordinary people during wars, banditry, and draconian punishments for even minor crimes. Natural disasters, epidemics, and wild animals also posed an ever-present threat to human safety.

The phrase “Life is tough, and then you die” comes to mind. Life was indeed tough, and the culprits making life so difficult were demons and a pantheon of deities, often related to forces of nature. That helps explain the background of the Metta (Loving-Kindness) Sutta. Here’s what I wrote previously about the sutta’s back story:

What led the Buddha to say these particular words [teaching kindness] fascinates me. He addressed a group of monks who had gone into the forest to meditate during the rainy season but were scared off by the devas (celestial beings) in the trees. The monks returned to the Buddha, who had no other location to suggest.

The Buddha sent them back to the forest after teaching them the Metta Sutta, which they then recited and practiced in the woods. That made the devas realize they had no reason to scare off the monks again. The monks remained in that forest throughout the rainy season and returned to the Buddha as enlightened beings.

The Buddha was a master at addressing people where they were, not where he thought they should be. Did he believe that devas were making threatening sounds and playing tricks on the monks to get rid of them? Or did he use the sutta to relax the monks and build their confidence? Either way, he taught them how to be more loving, not how to scare the demons away by being more fierce. He taught them:

Let one not deceive nor despise another person, anywhere at all. In anger and ill-will, let him not wish any harm to another. Just as a mother would protect her only child with her own life, even so, let him cultivate boundless thoughts of loving kindness towards all beings. Let him cultivate boundless thoughts of loving kindness towards the whole world — above, below and all around, unobstructed, free from hatred and enmity.

Now, here comes my contrarian side.

For many centuries after Gautama Buddha passed into parinirvana, people continued to believe in demons, but the language used to defeat demons became more warlike—and that language remains in liturgies we venerate even though we realize that the real enemies are “our own projections and misdeeds.”

Consider this quatrain from the Wheel of Sharp Weapons, attributed to Dharmarakṣita, as translated by Thubten Jinpa:

My ill temper is intense, my paranoia more coarse than everyone’s; Hard to befriend, I constantly provoke others’ negative traits-- Dance and trample on the head of this betrayer, false conception! Mortally strike at the heart of this butcher and enemy, Ego!

I added the emphasis on the final two lines, which are repeated 37 times in Dharmarakṣita’s 116-verse teaching.

Here’s another line:

Strike him, strike him, pierce the heart of this enemy, the self!

Maybe I’m picking on Dharmarakṣita, who lived in the Ninth Century. Still, the translator is a respected current teacher who says he’s especially proud of this translation, and the work is widely used.

I agree that a grasping ego is a block to awakening, but I prefer to say I “let go” of mine—the grasping aspect. If I had obliterated any ego, I wouldn’t be writing these words. And if Thubten Jinpa had no ego at all, would he have put in all the hours needed to translate the Wheel of Sharp Weapons? I may have the opportunity to ask him that later this month.

I can’t begin to count how often words like “fierce” and “wrathful” are used in Tibetan teachings. Again, I understand why they’re in the original literature, but I’m giving vent to my inner curmudgeon to remind us that if Buddhism is to flourish in the West, perhaps we need to return to a more loving language like that in the Metta Sutta.

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Equanimity…is the quality of heart that balances the movement of the heart with wisdom. Equanimity allows us to care, while also owning the limits of that care…. It is not detachment, because our heart is still engaged. We learn to take wise action when appropriate, and we let go of attachment to outcomes. —The Tattooed Buddha

Inspired by my dharma siblings, with whom I sit for an hour every morning via Zoom, I wrote and recorded a meditation to help us all balance our empathy with our equanimity during these troubled times. No matter how comfortable our individual lives may be, we can’t help feeling the pain of the world’s violence, searing divisiveness, and catastrophic environmental events.

The lands considered holy by Abrahamic religions are engulfed in technologically frightening warfare on the verge of spreading. In Nepal—with its deep significance to Buddhists and Hindus—hundreds have died in flash floods this week and earlier this year during a period of severe monsoons. Communication has not yet been fully restored, so the effects of the recent flooding remain to be determined, but Nepal is disproportionately vulnerable to climate change.

In the United States, which also has seen unprecedented flooding in the past week, the closely divided and widely separated electorate is nearing an election that could be pivotal for the world as well as the nation. It continues to struggle with an influx of refugees at its southern border, fleeing political and environmental instability.

Political and environmental instability is also driving would-be immigrants toward Europe, where political systems are being strained, and war continues between Russia and Ukraine.

We know that the world has recovered from devastation before. From 1939 to 1945, the Second World War resulted in up to 85 million fatalities, more than 50 million of them civilians. Tens of millions were dislocated and forced to find new homes. From 1347 to 1351, the bubonic plague is estimated to have cost Europe and China half of their population and the Middle East a third. The resulting disruptions lasted decades.

Still, in times like we’re living through, some of us experience empathy fatigue—running out of emotion—while others, known as empaths, can’t stop feeling the pain of others. Both extremes might consider the difference between empathy and compassion. We need to keep hold of our compassion—our deep desire to help—while limiting our emotional absorption of others’ pain.

Our emotional and tangible resources are limited, so we aim to train our minds to focus on what we can do, not everything that should be done.

So, you can find a comfortable place to meditate in whatever position you prefer.

No words can describe it No example can point to it Samsara does not make it worse Nirvana does not make it better It has never been born It has never ceased It has never been liberated It has never been deluded It has never existed It has never been nonexistent It has no limits at all It does not fall into any kind of category. --Dudjom Rinpoche on the nature of mind

Thanks to my dharma friend and fellow blogger Chodpa for reminding me of that quotation in his September 25 blog post, which you can read in full here. You can follow him on Substack here. The obvious questions are:

If the nature of mind can’t be described or pointed to, why do we Buddhists use so many words, metaphors, and concepts to point to it? And why bother? Why should we know the nature of our minds?

Let’s take the second part—the why—first. Buddhism teaches that our minds work hard from our first year or two of development to convince us that we’re unique individuals who stand apart from others and who must prioritize our needs and wants. That might be a healthy stage to pass through as we mature, but our minds don’t want us to.

Our minds resist going from me to we—seeing how interconnected we are to all beings—because that would mean near-extinction for them. From the non-dual point of view, once we recognize that we swim constantly in the sea of oneness, we no longer need minds preaching to us about how special we are. We no longer need a grasping ego.

That grasping ego is our Mara, the Buddhist demon who represents the cycle (Samsara) of birth, death, rebirth, and dissatisfaction and whose mission is to divert us from enlightenment. Like so much in Buddhism, we can recognize Mara as a trait within ourselves rather than an external demon, or both.

Either way, Mara is the voice telling us that the route to happiness is more money, a new job, a new car, a new romantic interest, a new flavor of ice cream, a gold medal, even though we know we’ll soon want the next thing. He’s that voice telling us our life will be more satisfying if we don’t live in the same neighborhood as those people, if we refuse to listen to that point of view even though we remain dissatisfied with our lives no matter who or what we succeed in avoiding.

The way out of the cycle of dissatisfaction is to stop the craving and aversion, but we can’t simply order our minds to shut up our grasping ego. Instead, we each must get to know our mind and befriend it—or at least let it know we’re paying attention.

That’s the why, so we’ll turn to the how. “No example can point to” the nature of mind, but maybe one can help us understand why getting to know it is crucial.

Imagine living in a culture of arranged marriages, and you begin living with a spouse you hardly know. You say good morning to each other, prepare and consume meals, have intercourse, and say good night, but you long for a deeper relationship.

We can’t get to know our partners simply by knowing what time they awaken and go to sleep, how they cook and eat meals, or even how they have sex. We won’t know them until we feel we know their nature—not just in words and data but experientially, a sense of understanding that comes nonverbally over time. Maybe that’s the love experienced in successful marriages.

At the risk of taking the analogy too far, I’ll suggest that we want a successful marriage with our mind. If not a marriage, a successful relationship. We want to observe what it does without trying to restrain it or being controlled by it.

Words like those I’m writing might help nudge us in the right direction, but it takes more than words to find the path to knowing our minds. That’s where the chanting, rituals, and meditation taught in Vajrayana Buddhism help—and especially Vajrayana’s emphasis on the relationship with a teacher. For me, Lama Surya Das showed me the direction and Yongey Mingur Rinpoche, along with my daily practice and sangha, took me the rest of the way to feeling as though I made friends with my mind.

If you’re interested in an experiential learning track with a teacher I recommend for Westerners, I say more about that, based on my own experience, in this post https://melpine.substack.com/p/how-to-become-enlightened-in-this

And in my last From the Pure Land post, I wrote and recorded a guided meditation designed to offer a taste of the nature of mind. That’s here: https://melpine.substack.com/p/finding-your-island-of-refuge

In closing, I share this prayer, The Four Immeasurables, translated by Anam Thubten:

May all beings be free from suffering and the causes of suffering.

May all beings have happiness and the causes of happiness.

May all beings never be separated from joy that knows no suffering.

May all beings abide in equanimity free from bias and hatred.

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I won’t claim that I invented the meditation I’m about to guide you through. It’s adapted from other sources. For example, here’s a video of an hour-long dharma talk called “Taking Refuge in the Island Within Ourselves” by Sister Chân Đức in the Plum Village monastery and retreat center in France: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M5J4N989CeU

I’ve added a twist or two I haven’t seen before, even though I’m sure I’m not the first to think of them, and combined it all into a guided meditation. I’d appreciate any feedback you can provide via a comment on this if you’re receiving it as a blog post or, if you’re listening to the podcast, an email to melpine@substack.com.

Before we start the formal meditation, let’s pause and reflect on the simple Buddhist Refuge Prayer.

I take refuge in the Buddha. I take refuge in the dharma. I take refuge in the sangha.

* By the Buddha, we mean the historical Buddha Gautama, all the Buddhas of all time, and the innate Buddha Nature within us.

* By the dharma, we mean what the Buddha taught and how the world works—what our innate wisdom tells us about reality.

* By sangha, we mean our community of fellow worshippers and the sense of spiritual friendship we experience.

* By refuge, we mean where we go to feel safe and seek answers to life’s most difficult questions.

You may prefer other words for your island of refuge, but I hope this meditation helps you find it when needed. (If you are reading this post, you can click above to begin the recording or keep reading for text with instructions.)

Find a spot where you’ll be comfortable and uninterrupted. If you’re sitting on a chair or cushion, you can rest your hands on your legs or knees. If you’re lying on your back, rest your forearms on your body or at your sides. Whatever your posture, try to keep your spine straight but relaxed so air flows effortlessly into and out of your lungs.

Body, speech, and mind in perfect oneness, I send my heart along with the sound of the bell. May the hearers awaken from forgetfulness and transcend all anxiety and sorrow.

[Gatha adapted from the Mindfulness Bell.]

(Ring bell three times.)

As the sound of the bell fades, you remain at peace in the present moment. The past has vanished. The future is an illusion. In this moment, there’s nothing to do…nowhere to go. You are simply being.

(Pause)

You’re resting in open awareness, eyes closed or comfortably open, not squinting. Your eyelids are relaxed like the rest of your body. Your breathing is natural. You might scan your body for any areas of tension.

(Pause)

At any time, feel free to move around, stretch, change position, or take a drink while you remain in awareness. As long as you do everything in awareness, you are still meditating. When your mind drifts, as it will, simply come back into awareness. Noticing the drift and coming back into awareness is an act of awakening.

(Pause)

Now, in your mind, create a place where you can always feel safe and calm despite any turmoil around you. It might be a cabin in the woods or on a mountaintop. It might be a tropical island all your own. It might be a spot on an ocean beach. Whatever environment represents safety and calm, make it the way you want it, and go there in your mind.

(Pause)

The world around your island of refuge hasn’t stopped being a place of turmoil, but you see it as it is—just turmoil. The turmoil doesn’t change anything in your haven of safety and calm. Even your own distracting, monkey-mind thoughts are part of the turmoil out there. As long as you remain here in your refuge, you see them for what they are—merely turmoil. You can observe them without being carried away by them.

(Pause)

If this is a new experience for you, you might let my remaining words wash over you until I ring the bell three times to indicate the end of the meditation. If you have done this meditation or one like it before and feel comfortable with it, you might try one more step. You might try removing the mental image of a specific place and simply recognize that’s your mind—your innate Buddha Nature—seeing the world as it truly is. When you find that place in your mind without needing props to get there and know it, you are resting in your Buddha Nature.

I’ll remain silent for a few moments as you rest there with or without imagined walls or trees or water around you.

(Pause)

(Ring bell three times.)

After three decades of practicing Theravada (foundational) and Mahayana (second wave) Buddhism, I was still confused about one thing. As far as I could tell, every form of Buddhism teaches that all beings have the Buddha Nature within or at least the potential for enlightenment, but it always seemed distant—not within reach.

I certainly didn’t consider myself a Buddha, but my meditative experiences had convinced me that Buddhahood or some form of enlightenment was closer than I had been led to believe. It was within reach. During the second half of 2015, I expanded my spiritual horizons and spent much time listening to teachings from several traditions on YouTube. I grew interested in learning more about Lama Surya Das.

Although Lama Surya is five years younger than me, we grew up in similar cultural circumstances—two young men from urban Jewish homes (I from Philadelphia and Jeffrey Miller from Brooklyn) navigating the turbulent 1960s. He had more chutzpah than I did, so after the Kent State massacre, he left the United States with a couple hundred dollars in his pocket and found his way to the spiritual teachers of Southeast Asia. He returned West decades later to teach without losing his Brooklyn accent, as I have never lost my Philadelphia accent.

As I watched him on YouTube, deciding whether to attend a retreat he was to lead in the first week of January 2016, this exchange with an interviewer most impressed me. Paraphrasing from memory:

Interviewer: Do you consider yourself enlightened?

Lama Surya: [Pause]…Yes.

How enlightened?

Enlightened enough.

Enough for what?

Enough for where I am right now.

In that exchange, he confirmed that enlightenment is within reach, even for gruff-sounding former urban Jewish kids. I attended the retreat and, on January 8, 2016, took Refuge and Bodhisattva Vows with him. He gave me the dharma name Urgyen Jigme (Fearless Lotus).

Lama Surya teaches in the Vajrayana (third wave) Buddhist tradition. That’s the school that’s almost synonymous now with Tibetan Buddhism. He uses primarily the Dzogchen approach with elements of Mahamudra woven in. Those are two slightly different styles of conveying to students the same view:

We all have a pure, innate, nondual, compassionate mind that is our Buddha Nature. We can find it in one lifetime and learn to rest within it.

After four or five years with Lama Surya, I needed more and began learning from Yongey Mingyur Rinpoche, his Tergar organization, and other Vajrayana teachers. Mingyur Rinpoche uses primarily the Mahamudra approach, with elements of Dzogchen woven in, so he was a great complement to Lama Surya.

A couple of days ago, on September 16, I was among the hundreds of students worldwide who completed Path of Liberation Level 4 with Mingyur Rinpoche via Zoom. He had conveyed the full Mahayana and Dzogchen teachings on nature of mind, which is the heart of Vajrayana Buddhism. It felt like a completion, even though my learning and meditation practice will never end.

All of my meditation experiences, the books and articles I’ve read, the dharma talks I’ve listened to from dozens of teachers, the retreats I’ve attended, and the spiritual friends I’ve made contributed to that sense of completion, but it was Mingyur’s program that got me there. Sadhi in Pali or ziji in Tibetan means confidence, trust, or faith. My work now involves developing the ziji that allows me to rest in my Buddha Nature.

As Lama Surya says, “If I can do it, anybody can.”

I write From the Pure Land to help those in any spiritual tradition along their path to relieve suffering. If Vajrayana Buddhism feels like a good fit for you, Mingyur Rinpoche and his worldwide Tergar network have a program far more complete than anything else available for Westerners (like me) who are unable or unwilling to spend years living in an Asian monastery.

For beginners to Vajrayana, Mingyur’s Joy of Living program is the place to start. If it still feels right, the Path of Liberation takes students into the nature of mind. It can all be done via Zoom except for Path of Liberation Level 2, which involves an empowerment that must be done in the physical presence of Mingyur or another qualified rinpoche. I received that empowerment on June 15, 2023, when Mingyur taught Levels 1 and 2 in a St. Paul, Minnesota, retreat.

So, what exactly is enlightenment, and have I reached it? Can you reach it in this lifetime? Basic dictionary definitions refer to attaining knowledge or spiritual insight, but in Buddhism, enlightenment is an experiential state, not merely intellectual. And there are stages of enlightenment.

Early Buddhism recognized four: stream-enterer, once-returner, non-returner, and arahant (conqueror). Later classification systems vary over fine points, but in Vajrayana Buddhism we sometimes refer to 10 stages, each called a Bhūmi (foundation or ground). A scripture known as the Daśabhūmika Sūtra lays them out this way:

1) The Ground of Joyfulness (pramuditā);

2) The Ground of Stainlessness (vimalā);

3) The Ground of Shining Light (prabhākarī);

4) The Ground of Blazing Brilliance (arciṣmati);

5) The Difficult-to-Conquer Ground (sudurjayā);

6) The Ground of Direct Presence (abhimukhī);

7) The Far-Reaching Ground (dūraṃgamā);

8) The Ground of Immovability (acalā);

9) The Ground of Excellent Intelligence (sādhumatī);

10) The Ground of the Dharma Cloud (dharma-megha).

In other words, there’s enlightenment, and there’s…Enlightenment. If fully enlightened beings—Buddhas—are walking around in human form, I haven’t met them. We’re all at some distance from Buddhahood. We have that innate Buddha Nature, and we use verbal teachings and nonverbal methods like meditation and contemplation to find, feel, and get closer to it. How will we know when we’ve found it? I’ll use a phrase of Mingyur Rinpoche’s. When we can rest in:

Awareness without object, love and compassion without reason, wisdom without concepts.

Am I enlightened?

Enlightened enough for where I am on my path. I invite you to join me wherever you are on yours.

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In the 1980s or ‘90s, Thich Nhat Hanh and his longtime companion, Sister Chan Khong, turned a ritual called the Five Prostrations, with roots in Theravada Buddhism, into a profoundly healing meditation they called Touching the Earth—one easier for Westerners to practice. I’ve had the privilege of doing the meditation led once by Thich Nhat Hanh in Vermont and once by Sister Chan Khong in Virginia. It brings me into vivid touch with interconnectedness and my place in the world whenever I do it.

I've recorded this version for anyone who'd like to try it. Listen if you're willing to heal--at least internally--your relationships with your blood ancestors, your spiritual ancestors, your land ancestors, your loved ones, and those who have harmed you. May you find inner peace.

The perfection of loving-kindness is the wish to provide for the welfare and happiness of the world, accompanied by compassion and skillful means; literally, it means benevolence. —Insight Meditation Center

Here's a 20-minute Metta (loving-kindness) meditation for beginners as well as the more experienced.

Just as the ocean has a gradual shelf, a gradual slope, a gradual inclination, with a sudden drop-off only after a long stretch; in the same way this Dhamma and Vinaya has a gradual training, a gradual performance, a gradual practice, with a penetration to gnosis only after a long stretch. —From the Uposatha Sutta translated by Thanissaro Bhikkhu

The quotation above will serve as the entry point for our second From the Pure Land Back to Basics post. The first one also came after a period when I had wandered into political and social issues.

Returning to the quote, the translator uses the Pali words dhamma and vinaya. In Sanskrit, dhamma becomes dharma, which we English speakers often use. Let’s focus first on those words.

Dharma has many meanings, but as used here, it refers to the body of teachings from the Buddha. Vinaya, in Pali and Sanskrit, is the set of rules and precepts used by fully ordained monks and nuns, but it can also mean “discipline.” In this sutta, the Buddha is addressing his monks, using the ocean as a teaching aid to explain eight “amazing and astounding qualities” common to both the ocean and the journey to gnosis, or enlightenment.

The quotation above is from the first of the eight, emphasizing that the route is gradual. Learning the dharma and diligently practicing as taught is, the Buddha said, an “amazing and astounding” process that leads gradually to gnosis. The Buddha is telling his students not to expect quick and sudden enlightenment but rather to enjoy the journey, “with a sudden drop-off only after a long stretch.”

I spent several years in the 1980s as an avid recreational scuba diver. I had Advanced Open Water and Night Diving certifications and made over 200 dives. I glided over reefs that were 30 or 40 feet deep, sometimes following them to, say, 60-foot depth and eventually to a drop-off of hundreds or thousands of feet. That drop-off is called a wall. Occasionally, I’d make a single dive alongside a wall to my limit of 120 feet.

Every inch of those dives was “amazing and astounding.” Now, here’s the thing: The Buddha roamed and lived nowhere near an ocean and probably had never in his earthly life seen one. Scuba gear would not be invented for more than another 2,000 years. Yet he used that perfect analogy.

What I hear the Buddha saying is that the journey itself is beautiful. Many Western students get hung up on the idea of enlightenment as a goal.

Did my meditation this morning get me closer to enlightenment?

My answer to that would be:

Not if that’s how you think of it.

Meditation and other practices taught in Buddhism are ways of living—skillful means of lessening the world’s suffering. They do lead to enlightenment—gnosis—but thinking about that as the goal distorts the process.

So, what is meant by the doctrine and discipline?

Here’s my informal summation of the doctrine—what the Buddha taught:

We all have painful episodes in our lives, but we can eliminate the second arrow of suffering by working with our minds to restrain our ego, craving, aversion, fear of the future, and ignorance that blinds us to the interconnectedness of all beings. The Eightfold Path was the Buddha’s first guide to retraining our minds.

All beings have an innate Buddha Nature that can be manifested by practicing the dharma. That’s the eventual gnosis that can be reached “after a long stretch” of practice.

Again, informally, here’s my take on the discipline:

The basic five precepts for laypersons are not to take life, not to take what is not offered, not to indulge in sex or other sensual pleasures in a way that causes harm to oneself or others, not to lie or gossip, and not to indulge in intoxicants that cloud the mind. These precepts are guides, not absolutes.

Beyond these, I like to refer to the Pāramitās or Perfections. These vary in number and terminology, but in essence, they are generosity, ethical conduct, patient forbearance, joyful effort, renunciation of worldly distractions, nondual wisdom, loving kindness (goodwill), and equanimity.

The role of meditation or contemplation is woven throughout the doctrine and discipline. That’s because the path is an experiential one that depends on more than words and concepts. It must be lived. I’m reminded again of scuba diving. Gliding underwater in scuba gear, one can hear nothing but the sound of the air coming from the tanks and going out the regulator. There are no words, just the bliss of being in a joyful pure land.

My wife, Carol, had outpatient knee replacement surgery yesterday, Election Day, so we both went to sleep around 11 p.m. East Coast U.S. time. At 3 a.m., after I awoke and got a pain pill for her, I checked the election returns and decided to write and record a quick post and podcast with quotations about all of us and the world being perfect as we are because causes and conditions produced us. We and the world could be no different than who and what we are.

And just as people accept what comes and make it their teacher, maybe nations can, too. Maybe citizens can learn to listen more fully to each other. Here’s Thich Nhat Hanh on deep listening from his book The Art of Communicating:

Deep listening is the kind of listening that can help relieve the suffering of another person. You can call it compassionate listening. You listen with only one purpose: to help him or her to empty his heart. Even if he says things that are full of wrong perceptions, full of bitterness, you are still capable of continuing to listen with compassion. Because you know that listening like that, you give that person a chance to suffer less. If you want to help him to correct his perception, you wait for another time. For now, you don't interrupt. You don't argue. You just listen with compassion and help him to suffer less. One hour like that can bring transformation and healing.

Huang Po from The Zen Teaching of Huang Po translated by John Blofeld:

If you can simply cease to cherish opinions, the present will be your only thought.

Shunryu Suzuki from Zen Mind Beginners Mind:

Each of you is perfect the way you are...and you can use a little improvement.

Chögyam Trungpa Rinpoche from Cutting Through Spiritual Materialism:

The bad news is you're falling through the air, nothing to hang on to, no parachute. The good news is, there's no ground.

Two more from Thich Nhat Hanh:

The present moment is filled with joy and happiness. If you are attentive, you will see it.

The seed of suffering in you may be strong, but don't wait until you have no more suffering before allowing yourself to be happy.

And a phrase he used often in guided meditations. You might try saying the first two words to yourself on the in-breath and the next two on the out-breath:

Present moment only moment.

One more thought: Carol will recover from her surgery regardless of election outcomes.

May we all rest peacefully in the perfection of the present moment.

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