We're here, we're queer, we're here to help you

Duality in Buddhism is a common concept, one you can find references to regardless of vehicle. It's also one of those Buddhist concepts that gets misused, is misunderstood, and which can easily lead the unskilled into dangerous complacency.

I mean, seriously, I'm sorry that my eyes roll whenever I hear someone pontificate that, "Like, there's no wrong or right, you know? Those are just false concepts that are forced by a society that wants to, like, control you. You know?"

Gnarly, dude.

On the one hand, the idea that duality is a false concept in most of our experience is right on. Jim Wilson in his essay for the second volume of Queer Dharma provides a really nice explanation of duality and how it's a fabrication tenuously held together by a collective acceptance that it exists. Wilson, in his essay "Practicing Buddhism As A Gay Man," uses the former "border" between East and West Germany to illustrate his point. For year's, the world accepted the duality there was an East Germany and a West Germany. Then one day, there was one Germany. Where did the line go? Was it even there except in our minds? For one period of time, the world agreed there were two Germanies, then one day, the world agreed there was one Germany.

Just like that.

Something a little more difficult for many to grasp is the notion of race and precisely how fluid it really is. In her excellent recent article in Salon, "The History White People Need to Learn," Mary-Alice Daniel reveals that even the idea of "white people" hasn't always been clearly defined as a separate race. In fact, it wasn't until people with white skin started to encounter with greater frequency people with skin other than white did "whites" perceive a need to collectively identify themselves as "white." Prior to that, races were divided according to nationalities (another fabrication, I know): For example, the Germans were a race different from the Italians, who were different from the Celts, etc.

So, yes, race is a construct, a creation of mind. Having said that, there is a problem with being too ready to accept that as the way things are. Saying this is the way things are is not the same as seeing things as the way things are, and, frankly, I am skeptical when I hear Buddhists, in particular white Buddhists, say that. It makes one lazy, providing an excuse to be unmotivated to tackle the real issues surrounding such "theoretical constructs" like race, gender, and sexuality in our sanghas.

Wilson's essay is exceptional for another reason beyond the way he describes the concept of dualism, and that is the role lesbigay practitioners play in disrupting the dualism surrounding gender identity.

"Because gay men, and other sexual minorities, do not fall within the categories of how the mind has structured male and female, the presence of gay men, simply by that presence, calls into question the dualistic consciousness upon which that division rests. I believe this goes a long way towards explaining why the presence of gay men provokes strong hostility from many people."

Just by showing up we completely disrupt long-held notions of not just sexuality, but gender roles - we turn them on their head! And just when some people think they've figured out the idea of gay and straight, we turn things upside down again with transgendered people, asexual people, and whatever amorphous method of gender and sexual orientation we can come up with. It freaks people out because some folks obsess themselves with why there's an apparent obsession over gender identification. The amazing thing is that this is nothing new, there's always been those who do not conform to the duality of male and female and the roles thereby assigned. Only now are people willing to say something about it and demand acceptance of their existence.

And even though race has always been somewhat fluid, it's become even more fluid as people are no longer accepting limited categorizations based on skin color. No, we are Hispanic black or Asian brown or Latino mulatto or whatever. On one hand there are those who say, "stop all this nonsense! These are all just theoretical constructs!" But on the other hand, forcing the recognition of these differences pushes people out of their comfort zones, which had successfully insulated them from engaging other human beings as they are without first compartmentalizing them into easily recognized boxes of existence.

It can seem like alphabet soup out there when we talk about race, ethnicity, gender identity, or sexuality. And it's understandable that it can be frustrating. But so what? It becomes a problem only under two circumstances.

One is when others push back against this process of self-identification. The reason for pushing back is defensive and selfish because these "new" labels disrupt and challenge previously held sacred beliefs about who and what people are. Such self-identification also challenges the power structure that remains largely under the control of straight white males, both in and out of the various Buddhist communities.

The other is when people present a facade that they are beyond prejudice and privilege by retreating to the position that these are all fabrications that we just need to relinquish. Because such a position is not letting go; the fabrication is, in fact, retained and strengthened into an even more-secure delusion.

And besides, our Buddhist precepts demand that we do this. The Fourth Precept encourages us to refrain from lying. Ignoring our personal identities would be a violation of the precept. As everyone one of us now out of the closet knows, denying our sexual identity is to relegate ourselves to a personal hell. Coming out is freedom, it's liberation, and Buddhism is all about liberation.

So yeah, we're here, we're queer, and we're here to help you.

Tumbling over privilege

My re-imersion into the Buddhist blogosphere, I'm afraid, is going to make people uncomfortable. Particularly white people. And I hope it does. But I ask of you, even beg of you, to persist, to stay with me as I examine the topics I've been pondering the most of late. Whether it's about race or queer identity, I will always attempt to provide a Buddhist framework, or at least a framework based upon my own experience with Buddhism and from my own reading of Buddhist texts.

And when I say "Buddhist texts," I'm not talking about some book by some popular Rinpoche or a San Francisco Zen master. I mean the Tipitika. Because the bottom line is even what some popular Rinpoche or San Francisco Zen master writes must hold up when compared with the Tipitika.

It's not just other people that I expect to make uncomfortable. I am uncomfortable myself. And frankly, I think that's a good thing. Because when we become aware of our personal discomfort and we are willing to explore the source of that discomfort, real learning and understanding takes place.

You can't learn anything new if you think you already know everything. The polarization of American politics should be evidence enough of that (not that the polarization within American politics is anything new, really; American politics has been polarized since the Constitution was first ratified).

Recently I started a new Tumblr blog that I call "Arf, She Said." When you first examine it, you might think there's no fixed theme to the items, mostly photos and animated GIFs, I post there. But there is. And when I launched this new Tumblr, I began following some other Tumblrs that more specifically relate to race (others tangentially).

It was via one of these Tumblrs that I came to read this article. A particular line from the article jumped at me.

"In conversations about race, I’ve frequently tried and failed to express the idea that whiteness is a social construct."

And I was like, "Yes, yes!" And I know that many of you reading this are also saying, "Yes, yes!" But the trouble is the reason why I am saying "Yes, yes!" is very different from the reason why some of you are saying the same thing.

When I read those words, it was like a giant ball and chain swung with such momentum and striking me in the chest, obliterating my sense of being. But that's exactly what needs to happen. Sitting on a cushion while contemplating beguiling notions such as "race is just a fabrication" doesn't help anyone at all. Clinging to such a notion is, bluntly put, a form of mental masturbation designed to give you momentary pleasure at how awesome a person you are. All that does is distance yourself from confronting the fabrication you carry around with you every where you go and exude like a plume of noxious gas every time you take a breath: Your privilege.

"Well, you sanctimonious little shit."

For many of you the initial reaction you'll have is I'm labeling you an awful person, and you'll likely retort that you're a very sympathetic white person who reads the right articles and votes for the right people and policies and thinks the right thoughts. In fact, you'll probably get angry with me, feel like I've just personally attacked you. That's not what I'm saying at all. Frankly, if the Buddha has taught us anything, you're just not that special to have such a self-centered reaction.

This thing is I am very sympathetic to your reaction. You still need to get over it. Just like I do. Everyday I discover how I act under the cloak of privilege and repeatedly vow to avoid it next time, but there I am, doing it again. As Ministry sings, the mind is a terrible thing to taste, and this is all about the mind.

The Buddha's words to the young and bright Brahman Assalayana show how resistant the mind can be to the privilege it creates. I wrote about this in a previous post, but you can read the entire sutta here. When the Buddha contradicted the Brahman premise, as presented by Assalayana, that it is the superior caste and all other castes are "dark", the teenaged Brahman does not disagree with the Buddha's answer, but repeats every time that this is a difficult concept for the Brahmans to grasp. There are other links within that post that are applicable to race and racism.

I don't expect all my posts to be about white privilege and race, but a good many will. This is where I am, and this is how I'm using my practice to investigate.

Buddhist privilege

"A bhikkhu who has left behind all action,

Shaking off the dust of former deeds.

The stable one, unselfish, steady,

Has no need to address people."

I used the "find a random sutta" function at Access to Insight, and this is where I landed. It's ironic because for a while I have been frustrated with self-professed Buddhists who far too frequently share what I view to be a rather elitist attitude.

Particularly when it comes to issues such as race and sexuality. And recognizing the risk in me saying this, I find that it's most often white people who express unconsciously (and I do believe that for the most part it is unconscious) this elitism in their Buddhist practice.

But the danger within this elitism is indifference. The above passage, the Kamma Sutta from The Udana, I believe feeds this notion of indifference.

"Are you saying the Buddha was wrong?" "Are you saying Buddhism is elitist?" "Are you suggesting I lack compassion?"

These are often the responses I get whenever I bring such matters up. It's a defensive reflex because most of us don't want to think of ourselves as being, well, wrong.

But if you're a lay practitioner and you think the above passage represents what Buddhism is all about, then I say, yes, you are wrong.

The Buddha had a wide variety of audiences. He was also extraordinarily skilled at speaking to his various audiences in ways that allowed his listeners to hear what they needed to hear.

In the Kamma Sutta, we are reading about a monk deep in meditation confronting the physical pain he's experiencing while sustaining his meditative state - undisturbed and persistent. It is something this monk faces on his own, there can be no others to lead him on this journey. The very nature of this journey requires one to remove oneself from the distractions of lay society. A monk in these circumstances does not need anyone else, has no need to address other people.

But that's a monk. And I doubt I have more than just a few monks among my readers. The majority of you are like me - lay people struggling to do our best to be as harmless as possible.

The Buddha was not speaking to us in the Kamma Sutta. We can listen to what he is saying here, but it must be with skillful ears. Because I am not a monk, have no intention of becoming a monk, I must live in this world. I cannot become withdrawn from this world because that would make me indifferent to the suffering of others.

I need to feel the world.

And this is why I become frustrated with people who say things with intellectual import such as, "Race is a fabrication, a construct that is empty." They say this with a conviction that this is how we become a non-racial society, how we go beyond racism - just keep repeating that it's only a construct of the mind and all we need to do is realize that and it goes away.

It doesn't work like that. Because racism and homophobia and sexism and patriarchy and white privilege are all real. They are real because not enough people are willing (or don't know how) to dismantle the institutions that sustain them, because not enough people recognize how they benefit from the continuing existence of these institutions, because too many Buddhists view the practice as an academic exercise rather than a way of living and thinking.

And breathing.

It's been a long time since I've written anything in this blog. There are many reasons why, some of which remain hidden from me. But I am going to ease myself back into this. I hope I can regain some of my irreverent wit that made my blog enjoyable for others to read. I know I enjoyed it.

The reason I started this blog was I wanted an open venue to process my journey with Buddhism, to share my thoughts and experiences from a somewhat different perspective that I thought might not just benefit me, but others also. I wanted it to be fun and not pedantic.

I'll get there. It's time I come back. So look out bitches.

Healthy prostates and virtual experience

So I thought I would talk about frequent masturbation today. No, seriously, I want to talk about frequent masturbation. And dependent origination. Not for the entirety of this particular post, but for a good part of it. The masturbation part, that is.

One of my favorite YouTube channels (how's that for a transition?) is the Vlogbrothers. These guys are totally cool and very gay friendly. If you haven't checked them out before, you should. They are awesome! And what really got me thinking about the Buddha's teaching on dependent origination was a recent video of theirs, which you may watch below.

This video brings up something very interesting, and that's the question of whether a real experience is fundamentally different from a virtual experience. That's a very Buddhist question, particularly when you consider the Buddha's teachings on dependent origination, also known as dependent co-arising. There are a number of suttas on this topic, but this one linked here I will use for reference.

From a strictly biological perspective, when we "perceive reality," we are really experiencing the past, because no matter how fast our neurons work, by the time we are "conscious" of an event or experience, that event or experience is already over! Adds an entire new dimension to the concept of living in the present moment, doesn't it?

And what we experience as "reality" is just sensation turned into electrical stimuli in our brains via various chemical reactions and the movement of nifty neurotransmitters. We can create "false" realities by manipulating these chemicals in our brain, which is what a lot of humanity does when it consumers alcohol or other mind-altering substances. We tend to label these experiences as not real, but the fact is our brain responds to these experiences, and ergo our mind, as though they are just as real as a real experience.

As the Maha-nidana Sutta explains, everything exists because of what precedes that something. Why do we die? We die because we are born. Why are we born? We are born because of what the Buddha called "becoming," which is a process initiated by clinging, and this is preceded by craving for the thing we cling to, and that's preceded by feeling, which is preceded by contact (as in sensory contact), and that is preceded by name-and-form because we have to label everything, and that is preceded by consciousness, which is, whoops! Consciousness is preceded by name-and-form!

Work that one out sonny!

The Buddha's teaching on dependent origination is critical to his entire teaching, and the simplest way to explain it is nothing arises out of nothing, something never becomes nothing. Which, if you think about it for just a second, is basic physics. Matter and energy are neither created nor destroyed, but only change form. The Buddha said all you have to do is interrupt that chain anywhere along the line and you've done it - you've attained Nirvana and then you will go from being something into being nothing when you die. Because what is the origin or death? It's birth. And what is the origin of birth? It's because we are becoming. And why are we becoming? Because we are clinging, etc.

Which brings us back to our brain and eventually masturbation of the male variety.

If what we experience is nothing but how our brain processes various stimuli, which result in various feelings we have about that experience, is something we really experience truly different from something we virtually experience?

Consider the prostate gland. While the data isn't universally conclusive, the preponderance of data suggests that frequent masturbation in men contributes to better overall prostate health and a lower risk of cancer. Wait, let me back that up. What the studies really are saying is ejaculating several times a week contributes to better overall prostate health and a lower risk of prostate cancer than ejaculating less frequently, as in just a couple times a month. And what causes ejaculation? Well, there's either sex or masturbation. Yes, you can throw in there nocturnal emissions, but they hardly count even as sex.

There are a few studies that seem to present conflicting data, such as this one that suggests that wanking too often in your 20s may increase your risk for prostate cancer, while wanking in your 50s decreases that risk. But this article debunks that by pointing out the methodology employed in these studies is flawed.

So I'm sticking with the frequent masturbation is good scenario.

Hence, does the prostate gland care if you're having real sex or just doing the rattlesnake shake? No, it does not! All it cares about is expelling some happy juice on a semi-regular basis. And for that matter, we can add the experience of orgasm to this. Is the sensation of orgasm created from masturbating fundamentally different from the sensation of orgasm during real sex with a real person? While I am extremely hesitant to answer that question, the basic premise would suggest no, there really is no fundamental difference.

Regardless of the stimuli, it all becomes part of the sequence of events the Buddha outlined in his teaching on dependent origination. Our suffering, our dissatisfaction with the transitory nature of our experiences, feelings and of our very lives is wrapped up all the same whether we cling to real or false things.

So no, John, there is no difference between seeing the London Tower Bridge in London while standing along the Thames and seeing the London Tower Bridge in your video.

But I'd rather see it in London than in your video.

Three-legged stools everywhere!

Riding public transportation in a metropolitan area can be at times – how shall we describe it? – interesting, to say the least. In Chicago, my most frequent mode of public transportation is the Brown Line. The majority of my rides are exceedingly uninteresting. But there are occasions when even I, my dear reader, have to shake my head in dismay.

Recently I boarded the Brown Line at Rockwell on my way to Lakeview. As I was perusing some of the notifications on my iPhone, I became aware of the fresh scent of beer. I looked over to my left and sitting across the aisle from me was a middle-aged man slurping beer from a quart bottle. I glanced at the time on my iPhone and thought to myself, “Well, I guess it’s not that bad. He waited until after 11 a.m. to start drinking.”

Perhaps my beer-drinking fellow passenger had a poorly developed sense of virtue.

On another Brown Line ride a woman boarded while speaking on her cell phone. A plethora of expletives tumbled out of her mouth with an ease that would shame the feistiest drag queen dealing with a broken heel on her pump while traipsing through the rain in Uptown. As I eavesdropped on her conversation – she was speaking so loudly on the phone that it was difficult for anyone in that car to ignore her – I began to learn that she was speaking to her son, who apparently didn’t want to go back to school (I’m presuming back to college). As she cursed her “encouragement” for him to get off his lazy effing ass and go to school to “make something of himself,” I heard her then admonish her son for using the F-word with her. “How dare you talk like that to me,” she said with complete seriousness.

I couldn’t help but smile as I thought of the irony that such a fine role model of a mother would be offended by a son who used the F-word. Perhaps she had a poorly developed sense of discernment.

Last night was perhaps the best Brown Line ride in a while. After I had finished my workout at the gym (lost 12 pounds so far!) I boarded the Brown Line at Belmont for my return home. Oh joy, there was a nut case on the car I boarded waxing ineloquently as he admonished his captive audience, ridiculing them for ignoring him and being heartless during this most wonderful time of the year. With a heavy sigh I took my seat and with eyes cast down, pulled out my iPhone to do something, perhaps slip into the gay first jhana where I find rapture and withdrawal in directing my thought to who’s on Grindr right now.

He went on and on about how everyone on the car would be enjoying Christmas, opening presents, while some friend of his – who must have been hospitalized – was facing certain death because of the overwhelming lack of generosity of those of us on the train. He even had photographs.

I bit my tongue, because the Buddha said that even true speech should not be spoken if such truth will likely lead to a – how shall we say? – more uncomfortable situation. I wanted to tell this idiot that not everyone on the train was going to be opening Christmas gifts or was even buying Christmas gifts and that, oh, by the way, we all are going to die, and you know why? Because we were born.

Nonetheless, I remained silent, thinking about how this kook had a poorly developed mind.

My, aren’t I the queen of all that is perfect and good! Because here I am, dealing with my own poorly developed mind, my poorly developed sense of discernment, and my complete lack of virtue.

Well, maybe I don’t have a complete lack of virtue, but saying my virtue is poorly developed would be an understatement; it would be like saying the Pope was merely a confused man.

But I digress.

The point is that we face constant distraction in the world around us and everywhere we turn, we see ourselves as we are now, or how we might become, if we lose sight of the three basic goals of Buddhism: the development of virtue, wisdom, and concentration.

Some of us may get overwhelmed by all the lists, rules, gathas and discourses within the Buddhist canon and think, “Whoa girlfriend! This is bunching up my panties, I can’t deal with all this! I need to de-stress with a cosmo.” But as the Buddha suggested to monks who were becoming overwhelmed with all the rules in the Pātimokkha, everything can be boiled down to three essential trainings.

The Buddha explained it again to a group of Brahmans, saying that if we pay attention to how we act, how we speak, and how we think, we can avoid a lot of problems later on. Evaluating our selves under these three areas is really what Buddhism is all about. The key, however, is to develop our virtue, wisdom and concentration simultaneously so our practice is balanced.

Think of a three-legged stool, where each leg is wisdom, virtue or concentration. To develop concentration (focus in meditation) our mind needs to be free from distraction, which is accomplished by being virtuous. But to be virtuous, we need the wisdom to know what is skillful and unskillful. But to have wisdom, we need to have the concentration to investigate phenomenon to be able to discern how things really are. And on and on.

If we over-emphasize one of the legs of the stool, we will metaphorically fall off our perch, like a barely-legal Boystown newbie who slides off his barstool after trying out his first Long Island Tea at Sidetrack. Yet I see many practitioners go running off toward jhana like a dazed mo with his first credit card dashing across Michigan Avenue toward the shrine of Ermenegildo Zenga.

Not that I am the epitome of Buddhist practice. I am far from it. But isn’t Buddhism about living rather than thinking? Isn’t the practice about how we behave rather than what level of self-absorption we think we have achieved and brag to others as if it were a bhodi badge of spirituality?

Perhaps the path is like riding the Brown Line in Chicago, filled with opportunities for self-reflection.

What does it mean to be good?

Overheard talk: “So what does it take to be a good person?”

“Well, a good person doesn’t do anything harmful, he doesn’t say evil or hurtful things to others, he doesn’t want to do bad things to others, and he doesn’t earn a living by screwing people over.”

“Yeah, that’s sounds reasonable. I guess that makes me a good person because I don’t do any of those things.”

DANGER, WILL ROBINSON, DANGER! MASSIVE DELUSION APPROACHING OVER THE HORIZON!

Ok, so that was a bit melodramatic. Let’s dial it back a bit.

“Holy cream cheese cupcakes Batman! That is so delusional that it makes my ridiculously colorful costume look like normal business attire!”

“Yes, I’m afraid you’re right, Robin. That is so delusional that it makes our relationship look platonic.”

“Oh, Batman, our relationship could never be that way!”

Erm, sorry, got carried away again. Hmm, what would the Buddha say about that? Perhaps something like, “If that were so, carpenter, then a young tender infant lying prone is accomplished in what is wholesome, perfected in what is wholesome, and ascetic invincible attained to the supreme attainment …”

And that is exactly what the Buddha said, according to the Samanamandika Sutta (MN 78).

We all want to be a good person, right? Well, except maybe Boris Badenov. Natasha’s no sweet pea either. And besides, they’re cartoon characters, not even real. But the rest of us, we want to be good, right? So it’s natural for us to want to know what it takes to be a good person.

Many of us reach the same conclusion that my “overheard” conversation reveals. If we do no evil, say no evil, desire no evil and don’t make money off evil, then we’re square with our kamma and good to go. This works for many of us homo-hedonists, or so we tend to think. So maybe we do a little Ecstasy at the club while we’re dancing. So maybe we like to indulge a little in our porn collection. So maybe we like to cruise the gay sauna from time to time. It’s all good, right? Maybe we like to head to the bushes for a little while after the Dunes closes in Douglas, no harm there, right? No one gets hurt, it’s all in good fun, and everyone leaves with a grin.

But this is a specious rationalization, which the Buddha quickly points out to a lay follower.

The carpenter Pancakanga, ran into this wandering aesthetic with a really long name – OK, I’ll tell you his name: It’s Uggahamana Samanamandikaputta (and if you can pronounce that, I’ll give you a kiss in public, even if you’re straight) – who told Pancakanga what he believed were the four qualities that made an “aesthetic invincible attained to the supreme attainment.” You know, the four qualities I mentioned earlier: do no evil, say no evil, desire no evil and don’t make money off evil. Our friend the carpenter doesn’t say anything to the guy with the really long name; he just gets up and politely leaves to go tell the Buddha what he just heard. When Pancakanga tells the Buddha about this, that’s when the Buddha replies with what I quoted earlier. The Buddha tells the carpenter that there’s no skill in merely avoiding the four things the aesthetic with the really long name identifies because a baby can do that. And why can a baby do that? Because a baby hasn’t developed a mind yet, a mind that is the source of all our troubles.

Being a truly wholesome person is a lot more complicated, skillful and difficult than merely avoiding bad speech, bad intentions, bad desires and bad employment. Don’t get me wrong, as these are great places to start. But if that’s all it took, then everybody would be pure and happy. Instead, the Buddha tells us that it requires the skillful application of the Noble Eightfold Path along with relentless execution of the Four Right Efforts. You really should read the sutta, as I won’t go into all that detail here. Because what I found really interesting in this sutta is that a key element of developing this skillfulness is once we realize that we are living a moral and wholesome life, we relinquish any attachment we might have to behaving that way.

Think of it this way. Initially, we do good things because it makes us feel better as well as makes others feel better. And this is great! But the Buddha tells us we must get beyond that quid pro quo manner of thinking and make skillful actions so much a part of our normal daily life that we no longer do things with the anticipation of feeling good about it. We just do it. And that’s not very easy. In fact, it’s pretty damn difficult.

Then again, that is, perhaps, why they call Buddhism a practice, and practice makes perfect.

Buddhism 1-2-3

Expanding upon my previous post – on how we can overdo our practice, particularly when we’re a new convert – I began recalling something my original teacher said one time. Whenever I feel like my practice is losing focus, I return to his simile of the three-legged stool.

I’m sure my teacher hadn’t originated this simile. The essence of this image can be found in Bhikkhu Bodhi’s writings, and that of Thanissaro Bhikkhu as well. But its simplistic beauty is worth sharing, because it had a profound impact on my practice.

Because, you see, Buddhism in America tends to attract intellectual types, and intellectual types tend to over-think just about everything. And when it comes to Buddhism, well, their seemingly erotic fascination with esoteric passages and the nuances of the Pali language often comes off as if they were preparing a dissertation on what the Jhanas symbolize within 21st Century life for the North American heterosexual male.

Sheesh. It’s just Buddhism folks. Yes, it’s profound; yes, it can radically change your life; yes, it can lead you to a sense of happiness unlike anything you can think of or anticipate – but it doesn’t require you to stand on your head while chanting an archaic language from memorized texts in an effort to subtly dissect the mind into its components parts, if there are any component parts to begin with.

All Buddhism requires of you is to be fully aware of what you are doing right now, and understand the consequences of those actions, because out of what happens right now your future arises.

It’s your movie; it wasn’t written for you; you write it as you go along.

Enlightenment doesn’t just magically happen because you belong to the right temple and chant all the right words with all your heart until your voice feels raspy and weak. Enlightenment is not delivered by Santa Claus because you’ve been a good boy or girl and followed all the precepts by rote without a shred of comprehension about what the precepts mean. Shit, happiness doesn’t even come that way. Skip the enlightenment part – how many of us are really invested in achieving total release? Come on, anyone out there? If you are, then you are wasting your freaking time reading this blog or anyone else’s blog.

I want to be a good person. I want to be beneficial to others. I want to avoid actions that harm others. I want to be happy. And when I die, I want it to be without fear.

What about you?

What my practice has taught me is that over-intellectualizing hides the truth. Buddhism will reveal the truth – if you let it. But to have that happen, keep it simple; which brings me back to my teacher’s simile of the three-legged stool.

There are three parts to a successful Buddhist practice: Sila, or virtue; Samadhi, or concentration; and Panna, or wisdom. Now think of each of these three parts as a leg on a stool. If each leg is the same length, then the seat of the stool – that’s you – is level and useful for comfortable sitting. When you sit on such a stool, it is stable and you feel secure, comfortable; you are so comfortable that you can do other things while sitting on that stool without ever thinking about whether it might tip over or you might fall off.

In other words, you are safe to be around.

Given that image, imagine what that stool might look like if all you do is read the suttas. You’ll be able to quote the Buddha like some Bible thumping idiot on a city street corner, but you won’t have a clue as to why people don’t like you. Or if all you do is meditate. You’ll have one hell of a tranquil mind, but you won’t be using its potential; when people go to a dictionary and look up the word “boring,” your photo will be there as the definition. Or if all you do is follow the precepts. You’ll be one unhappy celibate sonofabitch with spiders and cockroaches and rats all over your house, wishing you could join your friends for a beer now and then (I will spare all your delicate sensibilities about the sex part, but let me assure you, it ain’t pretty).

Yet, I’ve met people who I can quickly tell either do nothing but meditate, or do nothing but read the suttas, or who do nothing but blindly follow the precepts and then criticize everyone else for not following them. In fact, that was one of my turn-offs about Zen Buddhism; almost every Zennie I met did nothing but meditate and enthusiastically proclaimed that they needn’t do anything else. I can happily say that my respect for Zen has been enhanced by many of the Zennies you can find in my blog roll.

To be able to develop wisdom, you need to know the Buddha’s teachings; but before you are able to really grasp the teachings, you must develop your concentration through meditation so that your mind is focused; but to effectively develop a focused mind, you must follow the precepts to develop the virtue necessary to have a mind filled with ease, knowing you haven’t done something to bring about bad kamma; but to properly follow the precepts, you must have the wisdom to understand what they mean and how to apply them in your life; but to have that wisdom, you need to know what the Buddha taught and ….

Wisdom is knowing what is worthy of your mind’s attention, not memorization; concentration is having the ability to use your mind to investigate the way things really are, not how you think they are; and virtue is having compassion toward others by developing the Right Actions that lead you to be harmless, not refraining from an action because someone said it is wrong.

When my teacher shared this, my brain was like – duh! This led me to attending the weekly guided meditation sessions he conducted, and to me setting aside 20 minutes every day for meditation at home. It led to me attending his weekly Dhamma class when we methodically went through the suttas and talked about what they meant in today’s world. I still read the suttas over and over. And it led me to come to the dhammasala to work. I helped build the new meditation hall, helped set up and clean up before and after special occasions, and I also started hosting Dhamma study sessions at the library in the town where I lived, because the dhammasala I was attending was a 90-minute drive away and I could only go once a week, sometimes twice if I was fortunate.

That was 10 years ago. And for the most part, that remains my practice today. Am I successful? Depends on your measure. Am I happy? You betcha, but that also depends on how you measure happiness. Am I happy that my partner Benny had to leave the country to go back to Hong Kong? No. Am I happy about the fact I don’t know when or if we’ll ever be together again? No.

But am I happy that today I know my actions were honorable, beneficial and compassionate?

You betcha.

Love you Benny.

Walking the Walk

I have always been intrigued by walking meditation. I’ve tried it a few times in the past, but always felt like I wasn’t doing it properly. There are publications that describe it, provide some guidance, but this is for me a situation that reading a book doesn’t get it for me. I need someone to show me.

That someone appeared this weekend when I made my second visit to a Thai temple here in Chicago, Wat Phrasriratanamahadhatu, a Theravada Buddhist temple on Magnolia Avenue just south of Lawrence (no pictures yet, but I will have some eventually). The Sunday activities are mostly social with some food offerings made to the monks for the alms round, as well as offerings of personal supplies. There’s a big feast as well, a Sunday buffet of homemade Thai food. But that’s another topic.

After I had finished helping clean up in the kitchen, one of the monks caught me and asked if I wanted to join some of them for meditation. Of course! So we went to another building (the temple has three buildings now) where they conduct classes and meditation. The monk explained that they start with walking meditation: have I ever done that?

Despite a few feeble attempts at the practice in the past, I said no. The monk gave me some personal instruction then to get me started, which I must say was extraordinarily helpful. My experience this time with the practice was unlike any previous. Here’s what he taught me.

Step one: Adopt a standing posture with hands held in front or behind the back (I held mine in front). Close the eyes while standing still and be aware of your posture while standing, running the mind’s gaze on the body from the top of the head down to the feet, then back up, back down, back up, and back down. I did this with each pass timed with my breathing, fixing my awareness on the “object” of “standing.” Not “I am standing.” Just “standing.”

Step two: Open the eyes and begin taking a step to initiate walking, focusing the mind on awareness of each step, realizing the various stages of pressure and lack of pressure on the feet as each step is made. At first, the stride of my steps was too long. I found that the walking was not only easier, but my mind sustained focus more effectively when I took smaller steps, each foot landing only just in front of the other. I keep my gaze downward but ahead of me, not at me feet or the floor directly in front of me.

Step three: Know you are walking. My awareness of each step was really quite extraordinary; I was focused and aware of how the floor felt on the sole of the left foot as it rocked with the shifting body weight, as well as aware of what the right foot was doing as it moved forward. There were moments of wavering balance, as I have arthritis in my right ankle, so when lifting the left foot, sometimes I wobbled as the body’s weight shifted entirely to the right foot. But taking small, very deliberate steps took care of this.

Step four: When the other side of the room is reached, stand still, close the eyes, and bring awareness back to “standing.” Just like I did at the start. It kept the mind from anticipating what was going to happen next, as I always had a task.

Step five: Open the eyes and focus on “turning,” slowly turning the body around by taking small steps to the right, rotating the body in four “points;” so if my starting position was north, I first turn to the northeast, then east, then southeast, then south; all quite slowly and deliberately keeping my attention focused on “turning.”

Step six: Close the eyes and go through the process of focusing the mind once again on “standing.” Then resume the procedure by walking back to the other side of the room, repeating the process for the duration.

It was a wonderful experience, probably due to being a beginner. My attention was so well-focused that I really felt settled when we were through. I don’t think I could do this effectively at home because my floor creaks so much when I walk I would be concerned about all the noise I would be making for my neighbors in the apartment below me. But this is something I will definitely do again each week when I return to the temple.

Have you tried walking meditation? What is your practice like? Has it given your overall practice a big charge like it has to mine?

Was Holden Caulfield Gay?

This may strike you as an off-topic subject, the contemplation of whether JD Salinger’s most famous and talked-about character is gay. What has this got to do with Buddhism, you may ask? Frankly at first, I wasn’t sure myself. Ever since I first read “Catcher in the Rye,” I have always wondered if Holden Caulfield was gay. With Salinger’s recent death, I began to ponder this possibility anew. With these thoughts resurfacing, a moment of clarity came to me, and that was how “Catcher in the Rye” was a portrayal of the deluded mind from a very Buddhist perspective.

First I want to thank Scott over at the buddha is my dj for his post about Salinger’s death. His musings about Salinger’s work confirmed what I had sensed about the author from my own reading of “Franny and Zooey,” and that it was filled with a very Zen perspective; not like how John Updike speaks of Salinger’s prose as being open-ended and Zen-like. No, there was something else going on for me. And the same New York Time’s obituary that mention’s Updike’s comment also enlightened me to the fact Salinger practiced Zen (although one must take Salinger’s daughter’s description of her father’s practice with some skepticism).

So when I began to contemplate once again Holden’s sexuality, the additional input from the Times article and Scott’s blog post provided the prompt necessary for me to realize that Holden Caulfield is an allegory for the mind.

When many of us read “Catcher in the Rye” for the first time, we instantly identified with Holden and his railing against all the phoniness in the world. We saw the same thing, but perhaps we couldn’t quite finger it: Holden gave voice to what we were already sensing. The trouble is, Holden is a phony too. He also senses this, but is either unable to or unwilling to investigate his own phoniness, so he projects it onto everyone else. That’s not to say that Holden was wrong to say people are phony; it’s just that he wasn’t seeing the same phoniness in himself. He wanted to, he wanted closer relationships with others, he wanted intimacy, but the prospect confused him and frightened him. And like so many of us did, he distanced himself from others, labeling them as phony, as his defense against his own mind.

And that brings up the prospect of Holden being gay. My own adolescence was during the 1970s when sexual liberation was at its zenith. And yet, during that time, my confusion over my own sexuality led me to develop all kinds of irrational defenses against the very idea that I wanted to sleep with other boys. Now take that back to the time period of Holden’s, the late 1940s and early 1950s (the book was published in 1951). That context is important when considering Holden’s sexuality and how he dealt with it.

The fact that Holden is very conflicted is immediately revealed in the early chapters, particularly with his visit to the history teacher that failed him, Mr. Spencer. Holden harshly describes the teacher as mean and vindictive, and yet he feels compassion for the very sick man.

Holden’s interaction with his good-looking roomie Stradlater is interesting as well. Holden chats with Stradlater in the bathroom while the latter shaves. During the conversation, Holden nervously turns on and off a faucet; the sexual tension is palpable. And when Stradlater identifies that he’s got a date with Jane Gallagher, a girl he knows, he’s upset that Stradlater will likely have sex with Jane, a girl Stradlater hardly knows anything about – he can’t even get her name correct! Holden knows Jane well, revealing this with some insight into how the girl plays checkers.

Whether Holden is angry and jealous about the likely sexual encounter because Stradlater will get Jane and Holden won’t, or that Holden is envious that he is not sleeping with Stradlater remains ambivalent to me. It’s just not that clear because Holden remains ambivalent as well. What does become increasingly clear is how lonely Holden is as he attempts to fabricate liaisons with girls and women, which clumsily fail. His recollection of an intimate moment with Jane is more reflective of his present need for someone to show him that same level of intimate support and understanding rather than an example of any sexual desire he may have for Jane. And his fascination with the transvestite and the couple spitting on each other that he sees from his hotel room only reveal his confused and shallow understanding of sex. His later blowup with Sally may be fueled by a deluded desire to convince himself that he is in love with her, but this desperate thought mixed with all his confused emotions leads to an outburst and Sally abandoning him. His ambivalence with homosexuality is revealed with his encounter with a former schoolmate Carl Luce, as well as a later encounter with a teacher, Mr. Antolini. It is clear Holden cannot deal with the world as it is. It’s worth noting too that Mr. Antolini was, in Holden’s memory, the only person who showed any courage or kindness when a boy at school had jumped out a window after being harassed by other boys (for being perceived as gay?).

Whether Mr. Antolini was in fact making a sexual advance on Holden is irrelevant. The more important item is Holden’s homophobic reaction, which he later comes to regret.

All of these vignettes describe a deluded mind unable to see things as they really are. And isn’t that how our minds function? And isn’t it the point of the Buddha’s teaching to cut through this delusion to see truth? As a confused adolescent, I attempted sex with girls, but never carried out these situations with any success, as I was always afraid of the encounter and managed to concoct a reason to avoid it. Just as Holden loathed the idea of casual sex, believing that it ought to be with someone you truly cared for, I also wanted to seek someone I truly cared for. But I was paralyzed by a deluded mind that couldn’t shake the notion that my true desire was an abomination. Instead, I became bitter and cynical, highly critical of others, and filled with anger and resentment. Poisoned with these feelings and fabrications, I hurt people that I cared about. And, of course, this only added to my feelings of despair.

The fact that Holden’s little sister points out his misstatement of the line in the song “Coming Thro’ the Rye” as being “if a body catch a body coming through the rye,” rather than the real line, “if a body meet a body,” reveals the pivotal fear at the heart of Holden’s delusion, and that is his fear of sex. He is so completely screwed up emotionally that his deceits are so masterful that he has completely blinded himself to his own fear of intimacy on any level. His reaction is to runaway, but again, his little sister saves him. Or does she?

The novel’s ambiguous ending is to me a warning of how difficult it is to overcome our delusions once they have become part of us. Of the three taints the Buddha warns us about – greed, hatred and delusion – it is delusion that the Buddha marks as the most difficult to overcome. After all, how does a deluded mind recognize its own delusion?