Saturday, October 31, 2009

Trust

Here's a question that bears thought. Outside the relatively small circle of those close to you, how many people do you trust?

The question came up this past week at the gym with my friend, Scott--a sports fan and a fellow Tour de France enthusiast. He and I have often talked, over the years, about the prevalence of drugs in sports, and he told me the other day that the tennis player Andre Agassi had admitted, in a recent memoir, to the routine use of methamphetamines to get the aggressive juices flowing. In the past, my conversations with Scott have generally centered on the use of performance enhancers. The continuing scandals in the world of professional cycling were among the first to draw attention to the problem. Since then there has been a seemingly endless stream of accusations, denials, admissions, confessions, penalties and expulsions, and even some criminal trials affecting virtually every realm of sport.

Things have reached a point now, in sports, where it's hard to believe that any win is earned without cheating. It would be convenient to believe that there were just a few "bad apples", as our former president might say. But we are now in a place where we know that the barrel is spoiled. The kind of trust we need to believe in an equal contest between two athletes or two teams of athletes has evaporated, and once that is gone, the whole foundation collapses. If it's no longer about skill, talent, stamina and sportsmanship, it reverts, inexorably, to that familiar, remorseless competition for money and power.

Unhappily, the playing field persists as a metaphor for life. The erosion of trust extends to every aspect of our lives, from the food we buy and consume to the activities of the corporate and financial world to the realm of national and international affairs. The bank was once the solid symbol of trustworthiness. Who trusts the banking system these days, after the scandals of the past twelve months? The mattress seems like an increasingly sane alternative. Wall Street? The good faith of companies whose stocks are bought and sold? The very thought is risible. We once thought we could rely on our government to insure that the markets did not run amok. An article in today's New York Times tracks the lamentable failures of the SEC to detect the largest Ponzi scheme in history (Bernard Madoff's) when the evidence stared them in the face.

Do we trust our lawyers? Our doctors? Our police? Our politicians? Our neighbors? No more than our athletes. Where's the integrity? When so many show themselves to be untrustworthy, ruthless in the pursuit of their own interests and heedless of those of others, the whole system is undermined. The glue that holds us together as a society is gone. Our loss of trust in government--and, too often rightfully, in the politicians who represent us--has made our country virtually ungovernable. Without a pact of mutual trust between the governed and the governing, the hands of policy-makers are tied. We look to Washington and see paralysis, in good part because no one is prepared to trust anyone else. In California, where I live, we are now victim to our own mistrust. We are confronted with the spectacle of the results: highways crumble, hospitals close, what was once the greatest educational system in the country--perhaps in the world--is in a shambles. Were the effects not so dire in the lives of so many of our citizens, it would be simply laughable. I imagine myself arriving from another planet and trying to make sense of the absurdity.

We impugn the good along with the bad, refusing to recognize a distinction between healthy skepticism and the rush to mistrust. We elected what I persist in believing to be a man with a good heart and a good head to be president, handing him a mess more monumental than the Augean stables to clean up. How many years did it take to create this mess? But before six months are up--well, nine, now--he is under daily attack not only from those who oppose him but from those who worked for his election. How quick many of us have been to label him "just another politician."

Oh, and lest it be thought that I'm speaking exclusively about America... No, I'm speaking of a global pandemic. Look to the Middle East, to Iraq and Afghanistan and Pakistan for the effects of mutual mistrust. Look to Iran and Israel. Look to our relations with China, with Russia... I don't usually have much to say for Ronald Reagan, but his principle in this regard seemed a like good one: Trust, but verify. In today's New York Times, again, two articles--one about the theft or damage inflicted on 80 percent (eighty!) of those sturdy bicycles included in a wonderful program to make the two-wheelers readily available and returnable to convenient locations throughout urban areas, in an effort to reduce congestion and pollution; and another about the charges of corruption now being leveled against former President Jacques Chirac.

It seems that these days cheating is the norm. We can no longer expect integrity from our leaders; we no longer expect it of our neighbors; and we no longer expect it of ourselves. And yet... without it, what do we have left to count on in our relationship with others and the world? And where do we start to mend this broken web we so much need for our mutual security and welfare? There's only one place I know of: each of us in ourselves. If it ever happens, it will be a very long, slow process. If it doesn't, woe betide us all.


Early Morning Buddhist Inspiration - 10/31/2009


Work out your own salvation. Do not depend on others.

~The Buddha



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Thursday, October 29, 2009

The Compassion of Animals.

The November issue of National Geographic magazine features a moving photograph of chimpanzees watching as one of their own is wheeled to her burial. Since it was published, the picture and story have gone viral, turning up on websites and TV shows and in newspapers around the world. For readers who’d like to know more, here’s what I learned when I interviewed the photographer, Monica Szczupider. On September 23, 2008, Dorothy, a female chimpanzee in her late 40s, died of congestive heart failure. A maternal and beloved figure, Dorothy had spent eight years at Cameroon’s Sanaga-Yong Chimpanzee Rescue Center, which houses and rehabilitates chimps victimized by habitat loss and the illegal African bushmeat trade. Szczupider, who had been a volunteer at the center, told me: “Her presence, and loss, was palpable, and resonated throughout the group. The management at Sanaga-Yong opted to let Dorothy's chimpanzee family witness her burial, so that perhaps they would understand, in their own capacity, that Dorothy would not return. Some chimps displayed aggression while others barked in frustration. But perhaps the most stunning reaction was a recurring, almost tangible silence. If one knows chimpanzees, then one knows that [they] are not [usually] silent creatures."

James: It touches me deeply that this chimpanzee family lined up to view the dead body of one of their own as it passed by them. It's similar to the funeral possessions that are common amongst humans, which makes sense on one level when you consider that humans and chimpanzees have DNA that is 95-98% similar. In Buddhism we are taught that the human realm offers the best chance for realizing liberation from suffering and the cycle of birth/death. In addition to that it is said that the animal realm is a horrendous station and from what I have observed of the animal kingdom it does seem rather harsh and rough. Sometimes this unfortunately leads people to see animals as "dumb" and that delusion often leads to taking advantage of them.

We do so at our own peril because animals are embedded in our DNA if you believe the generally accepted theory of evolution. Taken a step further in Buddhism, of course we know that we are interconnected to all beings regardless of evolution or not. The molecules that make up our body blend with the molecules that make up the air, which blend into the molecules that make up other people, animals, rocks, water and on and on. It is not a connection we can see with our eyes of delusion but if we look closer with a mindful eye that web of connection shines forth in beautiful and reassuring ways.

Those chimpanzees might not know the Dharma but they do understand love and compassion. How could a mother of any species not have a bond with their offspring that is an expression of concern and care? In my mind, that is but another way of showing and experiencing compassion and love. The uncharacteristic silence of the chimps is something a being wouldn't show if it didn't experience expressions of sorrow and respect. We know chimps are capable of showing respect in how they stratify their family groups. Respect is shown to the experienced and strong male as well as the alpha female.

So they may not know how to liberate themselves from suffering but in my opinion they deserve respect, dignity and a chance at life that we expect for our own offspring. It's not my place to say that someone should be a vegetarian--that's an ego boosting exercise nor it is skillful means. Besides, Buddha didn't set a strict rule about it nor can all people follow a vegetarian diet due to climate and health considerations. I don't eat meat and abstaining from it is for me personally apart of keeping the first precept to avoid violence. However, I struggle with other precepts so I don't have any right to condemn anyone for eating meat -- nor would I do so. I may not eat meat or kill animals but I do still struggle sometimes with verbal violence so I keep working and practicing. There is no point to judging others or guilting people into doing something or not doing something. In addition, people can be very compassionate, loving and caring toward animals regardless of diet. Although for some, vegetarianism might be helpful, rewarding and beneficial to understanding compassion as a universal right.

~Peace to all beings~

The Shadow Knows

My thanks to those who wrote in yesterday with sympathies and remedies for those cluster headaches. It is interesting-and a bit disturbing--to watch this series as it develops. Nothing violent since yesterday morning, but several mock attacks, culminating in a very minor event this morning, at the same time as yesterday's. The shadow has been present throughout the day and, as I have noticed at waking moments, throughout the night. It's hard to describe this: it feels like a headache waiting to happen, a space it has carved out for itself inside the head. When I pay attention, particularly during meditation, I notice how very different the two sides of my head feel, the right side clear and relaxed, the left side totally sensitive and alert, self-protective, ready to defend itself against the coming explosion.

The disturbing part, as I suggested yesterday, is the irregularity of this series. It's the not knowing what's coming, nor when to expect it. Were the headaches coming with that precise regularity I'm used to, my mind would be satisfied with the familiar explanation: clusters. Since they're not, the mind loses that anchor, and feels entitled to get anxious and indulge in speculation. It's interesting. I don't know about yours, but I'm learning more and more that my mind is constantly in search of--in need of--explanations. It thinks that if it can only understand why something is happening, it will be able to somehow prevent unpleasant events from occurring and control the world out-there.

Science, of course, is busy doing the same. And to some extent it's right. We need to understand the causes of climate change, for example, if we're to do something about it. Where it gets interesting is the point beyond which we have no satisfactory explanation, or have too many alternative explanations--the point where we must simply recognize and accept what-is for what it is: this is a headache. It's happening now. I have no idea what caused it, still less how to make it go away. I must abide in my headache-ness, observe its progress if I can with disinterested interest, and watch it, thankfully, subside.

Today, I go with my friend Stuart to meet with his class on "Character and Conflict." I think I have the title right. It's always a privilege. And the shadow will likely shuffle off into the wings for the length of the day.

Early Morning Buddhist Inspiration - 10/29/2009


Wednesday, October 28, 2009

Motivations for Becoming Buddhist.

Baseball player Alex Rodriquez is reportedly going to convert to Buddhism for his girl friend, actress Kate Hudson. I'm not a Religious Studies professor but I do know that converting to a religion out of a feeling of obligation or to please a person is a horrible reason. I was apart of a belief system growing up in which I remained for longer than I should have out of a feeling of obligation and It was gut-wrenching. I finally realized that I was living a lie and deceiving my parents into thinking I was a loyal member.

I can't say whether A-Rod will stay with it or not but too often we do things for the wrong reasons and the biggest example I can think of is with love/happiness. We might think that we have to be a certain way in order to gain the love of someone and be happy. The other side of that coin is when we withhold love to get things from someone. That isn't love or true happiness. That is loved based on attachment. It's like saying, "I love you but only if you do the things I like, be the person I want and believe the things I do." The Venerable Zen Master Thich Nhat Hanh says of happiness and love in his book, "Teachings on Love":

"Our idea of happiness can prevent us from actually being happy. We fail to see the opportunity for joy that is right in front of us when we are caught in a belief that happiness should take a particular form."

James: It's hard when our vision of happiness doesn't pan out but if we can find happiness in what we already have then we'll never be disappointed. And we won't be manipulating people thus causing suffering for them too. I working on that with everyone else by the way. My pot is no less cracked than anyone else's. I hope that A-Rod finds something about Buddhism to be important, interesting or worthwhile other than being the religion his girlfriend practices. I also hope Kate Hudson didn't pressure him to convert. Because that would make me wonder just how well she knows Buddhism because pressuring people to do much of anything in Buddhism is taboo. I'm not saying that A-Rod doesn't have any personal interest in Buddhism but from what I know of the story it sounds like he is doing it just for her. I hope it works out because I sure have found a lot in Buddhism that has helped my life but it doesn't mean much if you're not fully engaged.

~Peace to all beings~

Pain

I have cluster headaches. I guess I may have inherited them from my father, though it was only later, after his death, that I learned about that from my sister. The headaches typically come in series. When a series starts, the headaches come regularly--you can almost set your clock by the time of their daily arrival. They are incredibly intense, like someone driving an axe through your head, and they attack one full side of the head--brain, temples, eyes and nose (they both get clogged and runny), teeth, mouth, jaw. Typically, again, they are of identical duration: I'm fortunate in that mine have usually been of short duration--an hour or so--and this series even shorter than before, from onset to the end of the actual headache, about thirty minutes. But then there's the "aura", a kind of pre- and post-headache echo, where the shadow lurks between times, leaving you in a state where the memory of the pain--and its anticipation--are almost as bad as the pain itself.

What's curious--and frankly a bit worrisome--about this current series is that the attacks have been irregular. It started about ten days ago, with a couple of violent hits. Then nothing for a couple more days, but more hits at the weekend. Since Saturday, the aura has been with me in attenuated form, but not a single headache, until this morning, when I woke just after six with the awareness that one was coming on. Again, the acute part lasted barely more than thirty minutes. Again, I sit with the aura and the anxiety. Why, this time, are the attacks less regular than usual? I've had them at nine at night, at three in the morning, and now at six. (Is there something about multiples of three's?)

If you're anything like me, when something like this strikes your mind grabs a hold of it and starts imagining the worst. I try to stay in touch with the teachings of the Buddha and remind myself that the mind is capable of creating wonderful delusions. This morning, I sat and watched the headache in action as I meditated, and I think that helped--though the pain was of course a powerful distraction. It's hard to watch that pain and simply tell myself that it is what it is, just pain, just another experience that the mind can either capitulate to or observe with a measure of equanimity, without getting attached. I understand that the attachment itself will simply add to the experience of the pain, but the mind does so badly want to get its hooks into everything it can!

Anyway, I'm relieved that this current headache is on the wane. I'd be interested to hear from other cluster sufferers, if you're out there, especially from those who have experienced the irregularity I have described. Meantime, I'll be spending the full day teaching for the next couple of days, so I may find it hard to find time for The Buddha Diaries. We'll see...

Early Morning Buddhist Inspiration - 10/28/2009


Monday, October 26, 2009

Army of Shadows

This rental sat on our shelf for weeks before we slid it into the DVD player, which promptly refused to play it until prompted a number of times. Army of Shadows (L'Armee des ombres, 1969) is a magnificent piece of work, surely the best of many I have seen on the role of the French resistance during World War II. (Here's a fine, thoughtful review by Roger Ebert, which captures precisely the mood and the quality of the film.)

There is, of course, a tendency to romanticize the dangerous and very often fatal actions of this brave network of people, many of whom died at the hands of the Nazi occupiers for their dedication to the cause of France's liberation. This film refuses that temptation. It is gritty, unrelenting in its portrayal of a small cell of resistance fighters, led by a Parisian intellectual and a hard-nosed engineer, who operate in the shadows, always within a slip-up or a traitor's breath of discovery, torture and execution. Yet it is definitely not an action movie in the usual sense. The scenes--and the individual shots--are long and slow, the suspense is not the moment-to-moment, seat-of-the-chair anxiety that Hollywood movies have inured us to. There is little violent activity--though we are not spared some glimpses of the results of torture. The suspense here is profound, both emotionally and psychologically, reaching into the depths of the souls of the main characters.

There are also moments of release, small triumphs and successes along the way--a rescue by a British submarine under cover of darkness, in a remote inlet; the landing of two small transport places with supplies. You sigh with relief when they are over. But there is also the ubiquitous, dark and pitiless presence of the occupation force, whose eyes and ears are everywhere and whose control is absolute. The resistance fighters have no illusions but that they are destined to die, yet they persist in their battle despite their resignation and despite the remorseless power of their enemy. There is a nobility in their courage that elevates them to tragic figures, admirable and pitiable all at once. They hold us in their grip without pathos or melodrama, simply as men and women who find their integrity and sense of honor tested by the times.

In these days and at this place of relative security--our social fabric, 9/11 notwithstanding, is not immediately threatened as was France during the Occupation--it is hard to imagine ourselves in so extreme a predicament. The moral questions are imponderable: to kill a friend for fear she could be compelled, by whatever means, to provide information that could jeopardize an entire network? To risk the lives of the innocent in order to achieve a worthy goal? It is to the credit of Jean-Pierre Melville, the director of "Army of Shadows", that he manages to put us there, making such questions real and immediate and hard, and asking us to stake, by proxy, our own lives and our own sense of honor.

I wonder that I had never come upon this film before, and am glad that I stumbled on it somehow on the Internet. For those who, like myself, are fascinated by the history of the fight to the death against Nazi tyranny, this is an indispensable part of the picture.

Friends

We're fortunate to have some great, creative friends. Friday evening, we went to the Laguna Playhouse production of "Moonlight & Magnolias" in which our friend Leonard Kelly-Young is playing the part of the Hollywood writer, Ben Hecht. It's the story of a five-day session in which David O. Selznick held Hecht and director Victor Fleming hostage in his office while together they "doctored" the script for "Gone With the Wind." On a diet of bananas and peanuts (Selznick's current fad), the three men engage in hand-to-hand combat in which Hecht vainly seeks to inject a shred of social value into a script that seems to celebrate war, social injustice and racism under the cover of soap operatic histrionics. It provides an entertaining spectacle, and the acting was enough to keep us thoroughly engaged, but we thought the play itself lacked sufficient plot dynamic to be fully successful.

Turns out Leonard shares our view. He and his wife, Lillian--a former professional actor, now a painter--came over for a cup of tea on our back patio the following day, and we enjoyed the opportunity to talk to him about acting and the world of the theater. He has had a remarkably successful run these past few months, but shares the struggle of many others in the creative world, to keep working in a highly commercialized cultural environment. The predicament of the artist in a commercial world where supply now wildly exceeds demand is the subject of my new book of essays, Persist, which will be published soon, so I was especially interested to hear a working actor's insights on the subject.

Sunday, we discovered that Lisa, one of our sangha regulars and a trained singer, would be performing in a free concert at the beach that afternoon; so we wandered down with George in the warmth of the latter part of the day and joined the crowd of (mostly, we thought) locals gathered around the spot where the Laguna Community Concert Band were playing tunes from "Oklahoma!" and other Broadway shows. We had a great thrill hearing our friend's wonderful voice, along with those of a handful of other performers--though George grew quite demanding about his ball. Once he catches sight of a patch of grass, he's convinced we're there for no other reason that to play with him, and he can get quite insistent with his yelps--not the most welcome addition to a musical event.

There's an enormous pleasure to be had in such occasions. We creative folk--especially those of us trained in the schools and armed with advanced degrees to validate our talent--can get a wee bit precious about what we do. We become so attached to deluded notions of recognition and success that we set ourselves up for disappointment--even failure. The passion that originally inspired us sours; our talent becomes a liability, the source of anguish rather than joy. One of the essays in my book celebrates the giveaway--a way of freely sharing our gift that offers a wonderful sense of freedom and fulfillment in return. As a daily practitioner of the giveaway with The Buddha Diaries, I can vouch for those satisfactions with a full heart, and I honor all those who are willing to share their gifts, on occasion, without the expectation of return.

So there was a special delight in Sunday afternoon's concert at the beach, to see so much talent gathered for no other reason than to provide entertainment for their fellow citizens. Laguna Beach is a remarkable place for many reasons, not least the sense of community that thrives here as nowhere else I know. Ellie and I are grateful to count ourselves among its denizens.


Early Morning Buddhist Inspiration - 10/26/2009


There is nothing more dreadful than the habit of doubt. Doubt separates people. It is a poison that disintegrates friendships and breaks up pleasant relations. It is a thorn that irritates and hurts; it is a sword that kills.

~The Buddha


Sunday, October 25, 2009

"The Perfection of Wisdom in Eight Thousand Lines."

Knowing this, a wise and learned bodhisattva, works not towards Arhatship, nor enlightenment, nor Nirvana. In the practice alone one trains for the sake of the practice.

James: So goes the 22nd verse of, "The Perfection of Wisdom in Eight Thousand Lines." I hadn't heard of this treasure until now. However, hanks to the generosity, thoughtfulness and compassion of two people I've been given a great gift: My friend Jamie and the blog, "The New Heretics." Thanks Dharma buds. You should take some time and read the whole discourse because it's beautiful, insightful and an invaluable teaching. As well as a gentle and wise but compassionate reminder of what the essence of the Buddha Dharma is all about. After reading it I felt as though I had just received a rare teaching from a wise monk from centuries ago. It feels as true today as it was in Buddha's era.

So without further ado, "The Perfection of Wisdom in Eight Thousand Lines" as interpreted by "The New Heretics."

PHOTO: Bodhisattva of Wisdom, Monjusri or Monju as said in Japan. He holds a scroll to represent wisdom and a sword to cut through ignorance. He represents the wisdom in all of us.

~Peace to all beings~

Early Morning Buddhist Inspiration - 10/25/2009


There are only two mistakes one can make along the road to truth; not going all the way, and not starting.

~The Buddha

Saturday, October 24, 2009

Early Morning Buddhist Inspiration - 10/24/2009


The world, indeed, is like a dream and the treasures of the world are an alluring mirage! Like the apparent distances in a picture, things have no reality in themselves, but they are like heat haze.

~The Buddha


Friday, October 23, 2009

Freaks


One of the books that taught me much about myth, archetype, literary convention and more broadly about the human condition when I was a student of literature many years ago was Leslie Fiedler's Freaks. I thought about the book again yesterday, when Ellie and I took the trip downtown to see the installation by our friend Peter Shelton at the handsome new...


...Police Administration Building across from City Hall, whose reflection figures in the pirated picture above. (On the way, we were surprised to find this street market right out front...


... with many local produce stores and multi-ethnic lunch choices: Mexican, of course, but also Vietnamese, Korean, Chinese, Japanese, Middle Eastern. Unfortunately, we had eaten before leaving home!)

The Peter Shelton installation is called "sixbeaststwomonkeys" (he has always strung together his words and used the lower case in his titles). For many years now, artists who undertake public art projects have wanted to address the "plaza plop" problem; even large sculptural works are dwarfed into absurdity by today's immense buildings. Peter's solution is to occupy the full length of an entire city block--for locals, on Spring Street, bewteen 1st and 2nd--lining up his "sixbeasts" and "two monkeys" in a row of quirky, strangely human figures whose bronze surfaces gleam pleasantly in the Southern California sunlight. Here's the long view:



And here are some of the individual "beasts"...



They are charming, rotund, voluptuous, fleshy, slightly risible...





... and even though animal, strangely "human." Pig, rhino, hippo, whatever these creatures are they are very down to earth, very comfortable in the avoirdupois of their own gravity. The artist, clearly, will have to get used to them being adapted to their environment--used, here, as a convenient support for gardening gear:



The "monkeys", on the other hand...




... are tall, skinny, a little wobbly on their pins, above it all, reaching absurdly for the heavens.

"Freaks"? Yes, because they are freakish, these creatures. Their forms are distorted, pulled out or squished down, expanded, ballooned, rounded out, twisted. Deprived of limbs or heads, they are somehow complete in their incompletion, entirely satisfying to the eye and mind. It's Fiedler's point, in his book, that the freaks that once were the features of fairs and circuses never failed to fascinate because they reveal to us much about ourselves. As children, Fielder suggests, we experience out first years of life as freaks, tiny creatures surrounded by giants, feeling freakish in our own skins--too fat, too thin, to short, too tall--and falling about as we seek to gain control of our bodies in an alien environment.

It's this freakish quality that I find irresistible--and weirdly comforting--in Shelton's work. He reminds us of the human vulnerability of our bodies, of the fears and neuroses that we project on these odd vehicles in which we are given to travel around. Most of us never feel entirely comfortable and confident with what we see when we look in the mirror in the morning, and while the mirror Shelton offers us to look into is something like those fun show mirrors that provoke ridicule and laughter, they share the same truth: that this is how we fear others may be seeing us. His creatures makes us smile and want to touch them, to feel in their rotund surfaces some of the sensual satisfaction we ourselves so often yearn for. Or tower above us, gangly and awkward, asking for nothing better than that we reach up to comfort them.

Well, enough pontification from me. The best thing is to see them. Maybe sneak a touch...

A footnote (have I told you this one before?) Some years after finding so much to nourish my understanding of literature in "Freaks," I invited Fiedler to speak to a class of students at USC. Before he came from back east for the engagement, I asked if there was anyone he would like to join us for dinner, the night he was to spend in Los Angeles. His immediate choice was a man whose face was at that time universally familiar: Archie Bunker... the late Carroll O'Conner. We took the two of them and their wives to an Italian restaurant on Melrose and enjoyed both the lively exchange between the two men, and the star-struck stares of our fellow diners!

Early Morning Buddhist Inspiration - 10/23/2009


The secret of health for both mind and body is not to mourn for the past, nor to worry about the future, but to live the present moment wisely and earnestly.

~The Buddha


Thursday, October 22, 2009

The Form of the Book

I'm rediscovering the pleasure of holding a nicely-made book in my hands. Most books these days, even the hard-back ones, have a mass-produced feel to them. No matter how well designed they are, how good the "look" of them, the paper feels toothless and the pages are hard to turn, the print is unexceptional, slick, and hard to keep one's eyes on. The one I'm reading now--more detail later--is special. It stands out from every other book I've read recently, and I was not surprised to find that it was designed by its own author, a former Buddhist monk. I can't resist quoting from his postscript, entitled "Colophon"--an end note about the book's authorship and printing. Here what he says about his choice of typeface:

This book is set in Linotype Sabon Next. In creating this typeface, Jean Francois Porchez revived a revival. The original Sabon typeface designed by Jan Tschichold was itself a revival of Claude Garamond's 16th century types for the 1960's. By referring to the original metal versions of Sabon for Linotype casting, Monotype machines and hand-setting, as well as Garamond's 16th century pages, Porchez has created a typeface of great utility and beauty.

Now there's devotion to detail for you. In the same passage, the author acknowledges the inspiration of Tschichold's collection of essays, The Form of the Book, subtitled Essays on the Morality of Good Design, whose "hilariously rigid principles," he writes, "have gravely influenced my ability to communicate visually and literally." Absolutely!

Don't you want to run out and buy this book, which so honors its own form. When you have it in your hands you have... well, a real book. The typeface is attractive, inviting, and easy on the eye, which does not tire at all while reading. The paper has tooth to it, comfortable to the touch, and the pages turn effortlessly as you read. A further delicious touch is that the front ends of the paper, where the fingers reach to turn the page, are not straight cut, but ragged, torn. They remind me of those old French Gallimard publications (do they still do this?) where the pages were not even cut. You had to work with a paper knife to slice them open, to get inside the book to read.

What is this marvel of a book? It's called The Novice: Why I Became a Buddhist Monk, Why I quit & What I Learned, by Stephen Schettini--an improbable name for a man brought up in Gloucestershire, England--but then his journey, as I'm beginning to discover as I read, is improbable, too. The title is published in Canada by Greenleaf Book Group Press, and the quality of the book alone is more than worth its price. I'll be talking more about the content in due course. Suffice it to say that the texture of the writing is as meticulously attentive to detail as the book itself.

It's good to know that even in these days of often shoddy mass production, this kind of quality is still attainable to those who strive for it.

Early Morning Buddhist Inspiration - 10/22/2009


Teach this triple truth to all: A generous heart, kind speech, and a life of service and compassion are the things which renew humanity.

~The Buddha


Wednesday, October 21, 2009

A Dream

You'll know how infrequently I remember dreams, or even fragments of dreams, because I generally note them down here in The Buddha Diaries and it doesn't happen often. This is the latest: we are headed home from the airport and arrive at the place where we left off our car. It's the gold Lexus SUV--a vehicle we bought a number of years ago, in pre-Prius days, at a time when we still believed we needed something in which we could transport stuff hither and yon, whether for business (Ellie's) or pleasure. We scarcely ever use it these days. It sits in the garage and waits for those times when we decide it's time to take it out for some exercise, to turn the engine over and charge the battery. Over the years, it has accumulated only a little over fifteen thousand miles.

But that's beside the point. We arrive at the place we left it, which turns out to be a cross between a service station and a parking lot, and start to look for the car where we thought we left it. The lot is not that crowded, and we walk up and down the nearest rows, clicking the unlock button on the key ring in hopes of hearing the beep. No luck. Yet we could have sworn we left it here...

We find an attendant, somewhat grumpy, who asks if we have looked upstairs. We didn't even know there was an upstairs--we have been walking in the sunlight. But now we realize, yes, there is a floor above, even though we're sure we left the car on the ground level. The grumpy attendant bestirs himself, remembering vaguely having had to move a car, and that some damage had been inflicted in the process, a door caught against a sharp turn and dented. He would help me look.

To get to the second floor I have to climb a very narrow spiral staircase with a cold metal railing. It seems to get higher and narrower at each turn, and the task of climbing it more difficult. By the time I reach the top and emerge half into the light, I am both exhausted and trapped by the last turn of the staircase. I make excruciating efforts to break free, to release my body, attempting to haul myself up with the remaining strength in my arms.

It's no good. I can't do it. I have to get the attention of the attendant, telling him how embarrassing I find it to have to ask for help...

I'm not sure if the dream ended before I was actually rescued from this predicament, or whether I was still trapped. For that matter, I don't know if I ever found the car or not. No matter, I was happy either way to be back in the land of wakefulness! Any dream interpreters out there?

Early Morning Buddhist Inspiration - 10/21/2009


On life's journey faith is nourishment, virtuous deeds are a shelter, wisdom is the light by day and right mindfulness is the protection by night. If a man lives a pure life, nothing can destroy him.

~The Buddha


Tuesday, October 20, 2009

Smoke & Mirrors

Surfing through various news sources at various times of the day, I now take note that a big chunk of the 24-hour news cycle is devoted to the non-story of the boy who was not in the balloon. The father, it seems, was hungry to have his face on television screens around the world. His wish has been more than generously fulfilled by the networks and the cable channels.

Ah, well. I suppose there's really not much else of importance to be talking about. Health care, the economy, Afghanistan, Pakistan, Iraq, Iran... trivial stuff when compared with a six-year old boy who just might have been in a balloon as it drifted photogenically through the Colorado skies--but turned out to to have been.

No wonder the rest of the world looks at us funny. We've lost our minds. The insurance companies, at least, must be breathing a long sigh of relief, with whatever attention span we once had now distracted from their grand rip-off scheme. I wonder, could they have financed this gift from the media gods?

Talk about smoke and mirrors, friends! Before we know it, our pockets will have been thoroughly picked--again!--by the wealthiest among us.

(This morning's news suggests that support for the public option seems to be gaining a bit of ground. I'll keep my fingers crossed.)

Early Morning Buddhist Inspiration - 10/20/2009


Just as treasures are uncovered from the earth, so virtue appears from good deeds, and wisdom appears from a pure and peaceful mind. To walk safely through the maze of human life, one needs the light of wisdom and the guidance of virtue.

~The Buddha


Monday, October 19, 2009

Clinging to a Moment in Time.

I wanted to add some additional thoughts about the current discussion bubbling up to the surface in the Buddhoblogosphere about sanghas and teachers, which I addressed in my last post found here. As you know I support both online sanghas and interactions with teachers as well as the traditional sanghas and teacher environments. I am somewhat bewildered by those who refuse to acknowledge the usefulness of iSanghas (online sanghas). Especially when there are those, which are run and administered by ordained monks!! We have to let go of this idea which bubbles up from time to time that online sanghas and teaching environments are always inadequate.

So if I show up in person and talk to an ordained teacher at the agreed upon building I will get a "better" Dharma than if I interact with the same teacher via chat, phone or video-conferencing? Is the "specialness" (that some "purists" claim comes with physical presence of a teacher) the smell they give off? Is the trick being your smell mixing with their smell? I know that's silly sounding and that's the point because purists are being silly with this issue in my view. Whatever happened to the idea of 84,000 different ways of teaching the Dharma? I fully support traditional sanghas and a lot of other Buddhist traditions. However, we practice a belief system that was developed by a man who had NO Roshi or other Buddhist "Master" to help him. Even ordained teachers who wander the temples and meditation centers will tell you that no amount of interaction with a teacher will enlighten you. In the end it is each one of us who has to do the work. It doesn't matter if a Zen Master stands on his head while chanting unless you do the work yourself. That's not to say that interaction with an ordained teach is WRONG--It's not wrong AT ALL. It's very important and should remain intact but there is plently of room and elasticity in Buddhism to allow for iSanghas.

However, at what point are we clinging to something simply because "that's the way it's always been done?" Isn't being a "purist" in this case attaching way too much importance to the ritual of the student/teacher relationship? As well as the ritual of formal buildings and temples? Don't get me wrong I want to maintain these wonderful buildings and tradition of having a teacher to work with in person. However, I don't see "iSanghas" as a disease that will ruin Buddhism, which is an attitude I see behind much of this hyperventilation over these new developments in Buddhism. The original "temples" were forests. So was the change that would come with the advent of more formal temples with ornate carvings, golden statues and beautiful artwork poisoning the "traditional forest sangha" set-up? What about the great masters who left the temples after a time to study alone in a cave? Were they not "credible teachers?"

Were those caves hindrances to their practice? Tell that to all the great teachers who have come from that tradition, which is especially strong in Tibetan Buddhism. Tell Buddhadharma that the meditation he was doing in that cave wasn't "the real Dharma" because there was no teacher right there to constantly whack him on the back. So my point is that change is inevitable and we seem to be able to see that in our daily lives with learning to adapt to changes at work, in relationships and in all areas of life. Yet I have seen a strange stubborn streak in some practitioners when it comes to change in Buddhism seen here with the virtual sanghas and online interactions with a teacher. Hell, there are STILL people who say that Mahayanist Buddhists aren't TRUE Buddhists!! Some people are still fighting that change, which was a difference that arose ages ago.

~Peace to all beings~

Something for Men

I'm coming off an unusually busy weekend. In three weeks, I'll be off to serve on the staff at one of those men's training weekends I have written about in the past, and preparations--for me at least--began on Saturday with a lengthy meeting to set the tone and assign responsibilities. Then, yesterday, a country-wide phone bridge to connect those men who will be in leadership positions. As I may have mentioned in the past, as one who has attained a respectable number of years on this planet and who has been involved in the ManKind Project since 1992, I am now regarded with much appreciated respect as a leading elder who is credited with more wisdom than I actually possess!

I always approach these weekends with a mixture of skepticism, judgment, fear--and real excitement. It's always an adventure, a risk whose opportunities I at once welcome and reject and which requires me to put myself on the line without hesitation or compromise. Before, there's a whole big part of me that arises (out the fear, for sure) to mock the whole notion of spending a weekend in the company of men who are, pretty much, in search of their own hearts and souls. But when I get to the site, I'm in. The event itself never fails to be unbelievably inspiring, a kind of return home to some true place, an elevation of the spirits I have experienced nowhere else. From Friday night through Sunday afternoon, it's a beautifully orchestrated drama that leads toward a powerful catharsis. And the results, for me, back in 1992, were literally life-changing; the weekend opened up powers and paths I had never dreamed possible or available to me before. I have witnessed the same since that time for too many men to warrant my skepticism, yet it never fails to return.

Do you know of men who are looking for the next step in their lives? Who are ready--I mean this literally, though I know it sounds odd--for adventure? Who have reached a glimmer of realization that they want something more from their lives and loves, but don't quite know what it is? Who are ready to take a risk, to step into the void in order to discover something new? Do you know men who are in some way removed, detached for whatever reason from themselves and those they love, and want to get reconnected with the joy they once experienced? If you know such men, please send them my way. Or send them to this site to find out more. When I first read about the opportunity, my skeptic had me almost convinced that this was not for me; but that was more than fifteen years ago. I signed up anyway, and here I am today, still battling with my inner skeptic, still showing up, and still ending up refreshed, rejuvenated, and inspired.

Early Morning Buddhist Inspiration - 10/19/2009


Just as a candle cannot burn without fire, men & women cannot live without a spiritual life.

~The Buddha


Sunday, October 18, 2009

A Global View

I loved Bono's op-ed piece in today's New York Times. A refreshing view from one who sees things from the global perspective. We Americans seem these days so limited in our capacity to look beyond our own self-interested concerns and our demands for the immediate satisfaction of our needs. To nail Obama to the cross of our various, conflicting, but too often uncompromising principles, left and right, as we seem intent on doing, still seems to me to be an absurdly short-sighted behavior. I wish him equanimity, and patience.

Early Morning Buddhist Inspiration - 10/18/2009


It is better to travel well than to arrive.

~The Buddha


Saturday, October 17, 2009

Sitting with Jundo Cohen.

Awhile back I was contacted by Zen teacher Jundo Cohen about his wonderful Tree Leaf Zendo, which provides insightful v-cast teachings that include a time for sitting Zazen. It's a very effective way of staying interconnected with a teacher and the sangha of practitioners if one has needs that precludes a person from sitting formally.

I know the advent of the "Online Sangha" has been of some controversy of late on the Buddoblogosphere. I personally find it change to embrace and appreciate. It is allowing and enabling the Dharma to reach more and more people who seek its wisdom. People are discovering the Buddha's teachings through the internet who might not ever have come into contact with them if it were in years past.

I do not understand how enabling more people (through technology) to sit with and learn from ordained teachers as well as enjoy support from fellow practitioners is a less helpful. It seems to me that such thinking is allowing yourself to be tethered to the "iron ball and chain" obstacle of "I'm here" and "you're there." Just because people aren't sitting the same room does not mean that their sitting is less helpful, less real or a "fad." If we believe that we truly understand interconnection then the idea of a sangha meeting virtually from all corners of the world should make complete and total sense. It is a creative way to make that understanding of interconnectedness stronger to encompass the world and beyond. Jundo Cohen speaks of the illusion of "Now" and "There" quite beautifully in this v-cast:

James:Along this same parallel, I believe that there is other life out in the universe (as even the atheist Richard Dawkins believes). As Dawkins writes in his fantastic book, "The God Delusion":
Now suppose the origin of life, the spontaneous arising of something equivalent to DNA, really was a quite staggeringly improbable event. Suppose it was so improbable as to occur on only one in a billion planets. And yet, even with such absurdly long odds, life will still have arisen on a billion planets -- of which, Earth, of course, is one."
James: This was in response to the creationist claim that evolution means life was created spontaneously, whereas evolutionists know it evolved over billions of years. He was saying, however, that even if it was spontaneous--the probability still makes it very likely.

That all said, I do not believe that alien life has contacted us or our world--yet. But my point in all of this "alien life" discussion is that idea of infinite lives being connected to all things and beings regardless of proximity to a meditation center or physical presence at one. We are interconnected with things that we haven't even discovered yet!! How cool and humbling is that idea?!! Imagine one day being able to virtually meditate with Buddhist practitioners of some other planet?!! You could be meditating at the same time with someone from your country, another country on the other side of the planet and another life form on another side of the UNIVERSE!!!! That would be quite the mindful moment of awareness of the many levels of interconnectedness. What a marvelous thought. Even better? We can do that right now. We can imagine all forms of life as we meditate on interconnectedness, which makes the Universe (I find) very personal and easier to grasp.

UPDATE: I wanted to elaborate a bit more on why there is some blow-back (resistance) to online sanghas and online or telephone interactions with teachers. I suspect that some of the "anti-internet" sanghas stems from a perhaps hidden desire to maintain their position as "Abbot" of some prestigious temple. Or as an ordained practitioner by a prestigious and famous "Master." This is not to say that there is anything wrong with ordaination but there seems to be a bit of a tendancy for some traditional practitioners to act as "purists" when someone discovers another way of diseminating the Dharma.

It's sad that rather than welcome another way to spread the Dharma and sustain practitioners who can't access physical sanghas; some of these folks laugh off online interactions as "not as real" or "authentic." As if there is anything "real" to begin with but that's a topic for another time. Part of these backlash could also stem from a desire to maintain their institution and steady line of devoted students. Such a position of importance can easily fuel their egos and push them to seek maintaining such a situation regardless of what it might mean for others.

I don't see how online sanghas and online interaction with ordained teachers threatens traditional "brick and mortar" sanghas. They both administer to different groups of practitioners. Some feel the need for physical interaction like those who attend school on a campus. Versus those who attend online classes. This doesn't threaten the disappearance of traditional sanghas and temples for people will always have a need for sacred places. It's to say that no one needs a savior, a "master" or any other being to wake up. It's not a matter of one or the other.

Physical sanghas, temples and monasteries simply need to adapt a bit. Perhaps setting up an online sangha on their own web page administered by a senior monk would help people continue their practice while maintaining a deep connecting with their teacher and that particular sangha or temple. Even just maintaining an interactive website where senior monks answer questions as they can would help maintain both needs of updated sangha options and making sure our institutions are still honored.

Establishing or growing retreats and especially days or weeks when the temples and sanghas celebrate and honor traditions and festivals. That way people would be more willing drive an hour or so to attend something to connect with fellow physical practitioners from time to time without having to drive hours upon hours every time sangha meets. It would also enable people with psychological conditions to be apart of a communion and connection with a physical temple/sangha while limiting the stimulation that they easily become overwhelmed with.

Even just maintaining an interactive website where senior monks answer questions as they can would help maintain both needs of updated sangha options and making sure our institutions are still honored.They are all helpful, useful and I believe essential to a degree. However, they are still, in the end--fingers pointing at the moon. No one can do the waking up but us.

~Peace to all beings~

Early Morning Buddhist Inspiration - 10/17/2009


It is a man's own mind, not his enemy or foe, that lures him to evil ways.

~The Buddha


Friday, October 16, 2009

Yes...

What a beautiful day in Laguna Beach, sunny and warm but with a cool breeze flowing in from the balcony. The sound of the Buddha fountain playing in the back yard, a hummingbird flitting past to visit, and checking out the long red bells of the fuchsia for nectar. The uppermost leaves of the ivy gleam in the sunlight and cast dark shadows on the leaves behind them... Ah, serenity!

Early Morning Buddhist Inspiration - 10/16/2009


In the sky, there is no distinction of east and west; people create distinctions out of their own minds and then believe them to be true.

~The Buddha