No takers on my previous post then? And there I was expecting a firestorm of criticism. I guess this could either reflect widespread agreement or more likely just low readership!

These things rarely pan out how one plans but I’m expecting the frequency of my posting to decline a bit for a while as I focus on another creative endeavour. However I do have a visit to the temple coming up soon which will no doubt give me plenty to write about.

At the moment I’m re-reading Jack Kerouac’s Desolation Angels; the first time I’ve re-visited his writing since 1998. This and Big Sur have always been my favourite of his books for their mainly sincere account of his struggles to love the world and life but at the same time rise above its brutalities and dukhka. Since I read Shinmon Aoki’s Coffinman several years ago I’ve felt that he really captures the heart of a certain kind human-spiritual drama (tragi-comedy?) of which Kerouac’s life was one example. The whole section in question is worth reading (p.103 - 111) but is summed up as follows:

Being pure of heart, they long for what is beautiful. Being fond of wine, women, and song, they make a mess of their lives when they go on a binge, and for all the time they spend gazing at death, they cling so powerfully to life that it isn’t funny …

… there are many whose lives suffer the after-effects of having been only weakly exposed to the phenomena of Light. This is what’s wreaking havoc on their lives. Spun about dizzily from the word “go,” they don’t know what’s what anymore, and in that condition their lives come to an end.

I never experienced the childhood tragedy that Kerouac did (the death of his brother), and lack his gifts, but as a young person I too suffered from having been weakly exposed to the Light and it led me down a similar path of destructive rapture seeking. During that time I came upon the following that really spoke to me and summed up my condition.

The music was her – the real plain her… Wonderful music like this was the worst hurt there could be. The whole world was this symphony and there was not enough of her to listen. “
- Carson McCullers - ‘The Heart is a Lonely Hunter’

Later, meeting the Pure Land teaching, I would learn about the impermanence of the self and discover the nembutsu which is the vessel or conduit that allows the experience of life … both rapture and despair … to flow freely. As with lightning you can’t root life back into the self, it has to flow through and back to its source. Our lives have to be earthed in the ground of the Original Vow.

‘Namuamidabutsu’ is the verbal reverberation of Amida Buddha’s fulfillment of ordinary beings’ vows and practices in the Name. Therefore, the realisation does not stay in our mind and heart: it returns to the original source, Buddha’s Vow. The Name doesn’t remain in us but goes straight to the Great Vow.
- from Anjin Ketsujo Sho

Since last weekend I’ve been mulling over an animated and challenging discussion that I had with a mixture of Japanese, American and British friends in which it became apparent that I was looking at things from certain perspectives that were either alien to them or which they saw as problematic. As such this week I have been looking into my self and have so far identified two elements that seemed to have caused the difficulties in my debate with my Dharma friends; (a) an existentialist perspective on meaning and choice, (b) a Christian perspective on human purpose and ‘talents’ combined with an Aristotelian concept of ‘happiness’ as ‘flourishing’ (eudemonia).

(a) Existentialism – In discussion with my friends I often find my self looking at things in terms of freedom of choice. I have no idea why this has come about but whilst investigating it I discovered that my philosophical position in discussions often comes close to Existentialism.

For example, one thing that we discussed was the roles of men and women in various societies. I tried to suggest that the ideal society is one in which there is freedom of choice. Nearly everyone objected to my view pointing out that there always exist various limitations from unalterable universal laws through to practical matters of daily life. However I felt that they had missed my point. From an existential point of view limitations may radically shape one’s choices but choice itself remains. In fact every single moment of life includes the possibility of radical choice. Choice only becomes actualised, however, when there is desire or aspiration, and desires are fluid and possible to sublimate, re-direct or repress. As such it was my contention that there may be societies or communities where peoples’ desires are controlled via ideologies and cultural norms such that they do not realise that they have choices in life and will simply do what they are told. Awakening therefore, to me, must include realising the reality of existential choice. Indeed Shakyamuni Buddha’s total turn-around in life course from Prince to wandering monastic is a perfect illustration of someone awakening to the possibility of re-assessing one’s desires and thus one’s life choices. Of course though, and this is where Buddhism departs from existentialism, once he became completely free in this way he was able to realise his dependence on all other things and came to the recognition of what we term in Buddhism co-dependent origination or tariki.

In contrast to the above path, many of my Japanese friends come to the teaching of inter-dependence not through first pushing individual decision-choice to its limits but rather via traditional cultural notions of indebtedness (on) which are used by Japanese Buddhist teachers as a secular model by which to point towards the reality of tariki. For example Japanese Shin devotees are asked to reflect on ‘What has been done for me’ – particularly in the family and parent-child context – (this practice has reached the West in the form of naikan therapy). In cases where this recognition does not happen, however, the individual may be temporarily excluded by the family or group – usually voluntarily (by going to stay at a temple for a period of introspection or simply to live with the help of people who owe one no secular debt ‘on’ and thus cannot be taken for granted) but sometimes by rejection (a bit like the Western notion of ‘tough love’?). It is the contention in some Japanese Shin circles that this helps to bring people to a realisation of their inter-connectedness with all things, where secular notions of ‘on’ (‘you owe me this’, ‘I owe you that’) corresponding to the defiled everyday mind are transformed into spontaneous and pure gratitude and joy.

The appearance of these two different approaches to Shin seem to me to be found in British/American versus Japanese culture on a pattern illustrated by the ying-yang symbol. Most but not all of the former approach Shin from an existential point of view, and similarly most but not all Japanese encounter it via the communally embedded perspective.

Both paths also have their risks. Existentialism highlights the existence of radical choice in every moment but appears to pay little attention to the role of desire (though I am not a philosopher and may be wrong about this). As such there can be a tendency to falsely create and/or reify choices that need not exist. For example it is not uncommon for Western Buddhists to abandon their partners, families, jobs and so on to go and pursue the path. No doubt they have a sense of giving up certain desires in the service of higher ones. From a Shin Buddhist perspective though (and interestingly I think also a Christian and Neo-Platonist one?) all desires are simply fragmentary and misconceived aspects of the one great desire which is the Call of the Primal Vow. As such it is perfectly possible to heed the Call in one’s life as it is.

Conversely the downside of this latter perspective, and also of the usual Japanese approach to Shin Buddhism, is that it can lead to forgetfulness of choice, or at least ‘bad faith’ (where we are aware of but refuse choice), and a loss of moral and ethical responsibility in action. What is meant by ‘responsibility’ in Shin Buddhism and Existentialism is however I think rather different. As I understand it in existentialism all choices are equal and the individual is responsible for creating meaning out of the choices they make. This view however seems to suggest that the individual exists in isolation from the rest of existence. In contrast Buddhism says that because of inter-dependence and causation not all choices are equal and therefore we must attend carefully (in Shin Buddhism ‘hear deeply’) to reality in order to go forwards in the best way. In a sense this is what faith is; the confidence that there is a clear path through the myriad possible existential choices.

This brings me back to the start of this section where I was arguing with my friends about the importance of choice. In a Shin Buddhist community, although responsibility of choice lies with the individual, just as in existentialism, people must be encouraged to awaken to the awareness which allows them to identify the right way forwards … to awaken to Amida’s call. As such if we stress too much individual freedom without a sense of limitation on the one hand (as is common in the West), or social duty and indebtedness on the other (as in common in the East) then the opportunity for the devotee to encounter the Light will be compromised. The solution to this problem is already to be found in the Pure Land Buddhist teachings in which we are encouraged to experiment with our human desires and aspirations against the backdrop of Dharmakara’s absolutely pure desire, aspiration, activity and realisation. This is why the form of the Primal Vow must exist at the centre of the life of the Shin follower … namuamidabutsu.

(b) Purpose, ‘talents’ and ‘flourishing’

Related to the above discussion about desire and choice I have discovered that I hold a strong sense that people have certain talents or qualities and that happiness lies in the full play of this potential, rather than in the equanimity described by some Buddhist traditions or the ataraxia of the Hellenistic philosophies. In my discussion with my friends, one – a self-professed ‘non-religious’ person – kept on objecting to my views of freedom on the basis that we are always confronted by limitations. He suggested that my notions of choice and individual human talents were unrealistic and would lead inevitably to suffering, and that happiness or contentment lies in accepting ones circumstances. Initially I was a little surprised by the turn of the argument as my non-Buddhist friend appeared to be making a Buddhist argument against me, whereas I – supposedly a Buddhist - appeared superficially to be holding a kind of Christian and/or Greco-Roman view of a kind of unique ‘soul’ or ‘spirit’ in every being (though I granted that my notion of ‘talents’ was not so rigid as referring to ‘vocation’).

Later however I was thinking about the notion of ‘salvation’ in Shin Buddhism and in Takamaro Shigaraki’s ‘What is Shin Buddhism’ I read the following:

“[Two types of salvation are] acutely illustrated by an incident that happened in my village when a motorcycle rider fell from a high place and so injured his leg that he was told amputation was necessary. After this was done, and he had to walk with a crutch, he began to contemplate suicide because of his condition. While in this despair, he was encouraged to join a religion and after going into that religion, his life changed. The response of this religion to him was: “the accident you were in was so severe that you were supposed to lose two legs, but because of God ’s intervention you lost only one and should therefore be grateful for this one leg you have left.” The accident victim was finally able to believe this explanation was right and by accepting this, he experienced the salvation of that religion in his life.

In this example there is a personal change in his life-no miraculous cure, his leg is still gone-but his acceptance of it on the terms of that religion is very different from the personal change that occurs in the salvation of Shin Buddhism. In Shin, personal change does occur, but a personal change of a very different nature. There is not a change in terms of stopping crying over the loss of one leg to experience happiness over still having the other leg. Rather, it is a change that occurs at a deeper dimension in life. If I were that amputee, I would find it difficult to be grateful for the loss of that leg. I would carry that loss in my memory as pain and sorrow at my suffering. To be able to accept my suffering tranquilly as such in my life, to stand peacefully with all that burden of pain and suffering is the inner change, the salvation of Shin Buddhism.”

Shigaraki is very clear then that fulfillment in Shin Buddhism is beyond equanimity, ataraxia, and stoicism. Perhaps one could express it not so much accepting what is but fully being what is. That said, despite our disagreement my friend has helped me to see that I retain certain flawed notions of human potential and fulfillment. In Shin Buddhism creativity, the great living/practice (‘daigyo’) of the Nembutsu, arises inconceivably in the inter-play between what we are and what is. There are certain conditions which will shape our lives but there is no blueprint, and - what is more - what we may wish to design would fall far short of what the power-beyond-self can make of us. In trying to second-guess myself, to postpone creativity in a search for perfection I just place myself in limbo … in what Shinran called ‘the borderland’ … waiting for life to begin. Although the existentialist talks of ‘choice’ their point that angst indicates a failure to live authentically is a sound one.

I’m not sure what the merits of all these musings are but even if they have come out as incoherent rubbish I feel that in listening to me my friends have helped to refresh my heart-mind and for that I am very grateful. Comments also very much appreciated! Namuamidabutsu.

For various reasons I ended last week carrying around a lot of anger and frustration, and feeling quite unhappy. I think that, as I have been engaged in a lot of Dharma study and discussion recently, I fell into yearning for a pure space to step into where I could construct some kind of illusory theoretical foundation for myself to wield as a talisman against life’s dukhka. Consequently I was going around getting riled up by people who impinged on that fragile, mentally-constructed mandala.

As it was, on Saturday morning, I stepped out of my house to go to the shops and promptly slipped on some black ice; falling flat on my back and wrenching my knee. Picking myself up off the road the thought, “Who are you going to blame for this?” popped into my head. Immediately it was like a bubble bursting. In the end the actions of all the people that annoyed me in the week had been just as impersonal as the patch of ice and just as outside of my control.

I was interested recently to read in Dzongar Jamyang Khyentse’s What makes you not a Buddhist that:

[In everyday language] Tibetans use the words rangwang and shenwang to represent “happiness” and “unhappiness” … rang means “self” and wang means “power”, “rights,” or entitlement,” while shen means “other”. (p.52)

Of course the Buddha taught us that everything changes and thus happiness of this kind is not only fleeting but turns to suffering. The Stoics solution to this problem was to try and see some kind of Providence in Other-power / shenwang and thus experience it, if not happily, at least with equanimity. There are various merits and problems inherent in such an approach but I think the main flaw from a Dharmic point of view is that it is too objective and eschatological. Substituting an objective belief in self-power for one in other-power is just switching from egotism to fatalism.

In Buddhism the corollary to all compounded things are impermanent is that all compounded things have no inherent existence. In other words entrusting or faith in Buddhism is to enter into a dynamic, liberating relationship in which self and other continuously illuminate one anothers’ contingent natures. Further more the fact that this takes place in real time, rather than an abstract or eschatological conception of time, means that it works against the encrustation and petrification of thought and feeling - and gives us faith in the Other that is beyond self and other; Nirvana.

Nature is what will destroy us, but nature is also what allows us the possibility of waking up. We have Buddha-nature and Mara-nature, at any moment we have the capacity to open up or close down. It’s the same with this world in which we’re embedded; it’s both good and bad, it’s not reducible to either good or bad. The habit of making the split, cutting off from nature, is part of our suffering.’
- Stephen Batchelor (Dharmalife, Issue 25)

To practice by pushing ahead, meeting the numberless experiences as a self and witnessing them thus, is delusion. When the vast expanse of experiences move forward and practice and realize the self, this is Awakening.
- Dogen Zenji (Genjokoan)

Grey clouds flow towards the horizon, running before a cold wind that rattles the branches of the pollarded trees like skeletal fingers. A new week approaches, and already, constantly, a new self, new other … new being-time.