Engaged Buddhism

I spent the weekend in a retreat with Cheri Maples.  Most spiritual teachers speak simply and authentically and Cheri certainly is no exception, but she also offers a clarity and precision in her teaching that I found very valuable.

One of her talks clarified something for me.  The question of how to resolve the paradox of “socially engaged Buddhism” – how to reconcile acceptance of what is with action as a means to bring change.

One of the central tenets of Buddhism is that suffering is caused by wanting things to be different than they are, or by a conflict between an individual’s view of reality and reality as it is.

Cheri told the story of an Indian sage (Krishnamurti).  Eventually this sage agreed to reveal his deepest secret; telling his students “I don’t mind what happens.”

Similar is the story of a man who managed to live to a ripe old age while maintaining his health and enthusiasm.  When asked the secret of his longevity, he answered: “when it rains, I let it rain”.

The theme here is an acceptance that what happens in life is beyond our control.  We’re going to have a lot more luck adapting ourselves to the world than trying to adapt the world to our desires.  We don’t control reality, so we’d best accept it.

However, what we do control, what we can own, are our choices and our actions (Karma).  From a Buddhist (or Existentialist) perspective, our choices and actions are all we really are, and all that defines us.

So even if we can never guarantee the outcomes of our actions, we can choose them according to principles, including social engagement.  The idea of choosing the best actions we can, but then divorcing ourselves from the consequences, accepting that the outcome is beyond our control, is a very powerful idea and, to my understanding (as taught by Devarshi), a major theme of the Bhagavad-Gita.

I’ve previously mentioned one of my favourite books, “Fugitive Pieces” by Anne Michaels.  One quote from it explains this beautifully:

It’s a mistake to think it’s the small things we control and not the large, it’s the other way around! We can’t stop the small accident, the tiny detail that conspires into fate: the extra moment you run back for something forgotten, a moment that saves you from an accident – or causes one. But we can assert the largest order, the large human values daily, the only order large enough to see.

I always interpreted this as stating that we can’t control the path of day-to-day life: whether we get a given job or meet a given person, but we can choose what principles we will live our lives by.

Now I see a new, very similar interpretation: we can’t control the outcomes of our choices and are at the mercy of countless other choices made by countless others; however, we can choose the actions we take, the choices we make, and the principles that we use to guide those choices.

Although I might introduce myself by referencing, for example, my career, this is a small thing.  Ultimately, it’s the “large things” that make us who we are.

Dharma Sharing

Occasionally, as you speak, a tear pops from the corner of your eye,
beginning its tentative journey down your cheek.

You ignore the single drop, waiting for an accumulation of at least two or three
before wiping your face dry with a tissue that you held ready.

Efficiency.

Speaking, you offer disclaimers:

“This probably doesn’t make sense, but…”

“I’m such a cry-baby…”

Antiquated formalities.

Anachronistic now, as I feel only:

compassion for your suffering
and admiration for your courage.

Flood

Your well: cracked sand

beneath an uncaring sun?

Today: beneath a starry sky

a traveler stops to rest

and offers you a cup of tea

The last dregs from his canteen

Spilled on cracked sand

the tea is gone.

The traveler, on his way.

Tomorrow: if another traveler stops nearby

offer a cup of fresh water

from your empty well

Not too late: I see that I must give what I most need.

The last line of this poem is not mine.  It is also the last line of the wonderful book, Fugitive Pieces by Anne Michaels.

The Power of the Absence of Desire

I was thinking about this while watching Avatar, but please bear with me anyway.

I was struck by the source of the Na’vi’s strength: their lack of desire.  Earlier in the movie it’s made clear that humans were frustrated in their attempt to buy off the Na’vi by offering wealth in various forms; the Na’vi simply weren’t interested.

Satisfaction is a powerful thing.  To have desires makes one weak against those that can fulfill those desires.  This is the essence of the middle-class economic slavery that’s so prevent today.  A family might have enough wealth to satisfy their needs, to live a comfortable lifestyle.  But desire for a nicer car or bigger television leads to ever growing credit card debt, to overtime and ambition, searching for a raise at work, and to a lifestyle of stress and depression.  This is slavery to material desire and, more insidiously, perhaps slavery to manufactured desire, but that’s for another post.

John Ralston Saul writes, in his book Voltaire’s Bastards:

Of the great world myths, only Buddhism is centered on the reduction of desire in the individual.

Depending on how you choose to define “the great world myths”, this statement is either an overgeneralization or an outright falsehood, but it does accurately point to the way our societies value and encourage desire and ambition for more, endless expansion and change.

The desire for growth, expansion, and constant improvement has become axiomatic in our culture, but that doesn’t mean that it shouldn’t be questioned.  In Wade Davis’s book, The Wayfinders, he explores how many of the world’s indigenous cultures have different value systems – often valuing satisfaction with things as they are over desire for more.  It’s a shame that we haven’t been better able to learn from those who came before us.

And another perspective:

“Freedom’s just another word for nothing left to lose”

- Janis Joplin