The Zennist

Celebrity Buddhism

If I had to give advice to Buddhist oriented Hollywood actors and directors like Jeff Bridges and Oliver Stone about Buddhism, specifically, what Buddhism is really about and what to expect, personally, I wouldn’t find it difficult.  Trying to be honest and true to the Dharma, I would simply say that Buddhism strictly involves finding the transcendent within yourself which is undying, luminous—and most real.  On the personal side, one has to spiritually penetrate through the rind of their psychophysical body in order to reach this undying, luminous substance.

Now, if I were a popular Western Buddhist teacher, I would not be interested in giving such honest advice because, frankly, in my heart of hearts, I don’t care about what the Buddha taught—not when it comes to the transcendent which is almost a taboo subject like UFOs, 9/11, and reincarnation.  I only care about my own materialistic ideas about life using Buddhism as a cover. 

In the presence of Mr. Bridges or Mr. Stone I would act pious in my robes and grin a lot.  I might even say things like Eckhart Tolle, “Realize deeply that the present moment is all you have” or maybe throw out something from Joko Beck like, “Wisdom is to see that there is nothing to search for.”  Mainly, I would hope these guys would be impressed with all of my shallow wisdom.  I could sure use their endorsements to market my inane books about Buddhism which have nothing to do with Buddhism.

Being a celebrity is by no means easy especially when it comes to Buddhism.  Like the average person, a celebrity is generally drawn to Buddhists who are great at marketing themselves; who sell lots of books but don’t have much to say about what the Buddha really taught (reading the Buddha’s discourses is required).  The only difference between a celebrity and the average person—which is a significant difference—is the red carpet treatment.  

This brings me to an important point.  Celebrities can easily become victims of Buddhist ‘marketeers’ just like any ordinary non-celebrity person, both failing to realize that the contents of the package often have nothing to do with what the Buddha taught.  Case in point, some popular books on Buddhism like Buddha’s Brain, by Hanson and Mendius, don’t even mention the word nirvana!  And of course there is Stephen Batchelor’s book, Buddhism Without Beliefs, which only mentions nirvana twice in passing.  If there is any consolation in this rather dismal picture, both celebrities and non-celebrities are equal; both can be taken to the cleaners.  My advice as always: beware of popular Buddhism.

Mind returning to Mind

Right meditation begins with our ordinary mind singularizing itself (ekakara) thus reaching a point at which the essence or substance of mind, i.e., pure Mind is vividly and directly apperceived   This incidentally, is where the notion of ‘no-mind’ comes from which is discussed in Zen literature.  No-mind pertains to the absolute cessation of mental fluctuations in which mind returns to its natural state, that is, pure Mind.  In such a state, in the midst of the empty, constructed world, one is continually able to pierce through the phenomenal veil and commune with pure Mind.

Mind returning to pure Mind which is increate, is something that can only be described as an earth shaking experience because it has never been previously accomplished owing to the power of ignorance (avidya).  It might be argued that this experience is subjective.  But for the practitioner who has penetrated into the heart of pure Mind by meditation, Mind is a real object—an object that the goes beyond the domain of the senses.   

For the ordinary Buddhist practitioner who wishes to singularize their ordinary mind, it will prove to be an exceedingly difficult undertaking.  The reason for this is that any form of mentation, i.e., mental activity, automatically hides pure Mind which transcends any and all mental efforts.  Until access to pure Mind is gained there is no actual accomplishment of meditation.   

Those who believe, otherwise, in the effectiveness of sitting meditation (J., zazen) are really deluding themselves by believing that taking up a particular posture brings them closer to the goal.  It doesn’t.  They are still in an existential trance, so to speak.  They are still captivated by the phenomenal world believing in a physical means to awakening.

 

Oversimplifying Buddhism

A prithagjana (a worldly non-spiritual person) who is curious enough about Buddhism to take it up might say something like this:

Buddhism is not a complicated religion, requiring years of practice and monastic training and discipline.  All that we have to do is to follow the 5 precepts which consists of avoiding the onslaught of creatures.  Not taking what is not given.  Staying clear of sexual misconduct.  Avoiding lying speech, and substance abuse.

Wait a minute!  Where does nirvana come into the picture?  Perhaps it doesn’t because it is too complicated.  Understanding the importance of nirvana might require, at the least, being familiar with the important discourses the Buddha gave to his followers.  That might take a year or two to master.

In light of what has been said, is practicing the five precepts all there is to the Buddhism of the noble ones (arya-sravaka) who have entered the supermundane path (arya-mârga), or is there a lot more complicated and subtle stuff to learn?  No doubt there is more—much more.  Focusing merely on the five precepts is like believing that just four tires is a car.

When I hear or read prithagjinas trying to oversimplify Buddhism I can’t help but thinking that this is wrong.  It is one think to admit, honestly, to ourselves that we don’t have what it takes to enter the supermundane path.  It’s quite another matter to oversimplify Buddhism in effect hiding what it is really about, so that something like nirvana, and the path to it, end up eventually becoming ignored.

It's the id stupid, not the ego

I vote that the word "ego" (and this implies non-ego) be taken out of the English lexicon (yeah, right— it ain't gonna happen dude). Cults use it not to mention Dharma centers which are more or less cult-like enterprises.  (The term “ego” has so many definitions it’s worthless.) 

Go to YouTube.  There are plenty of non-ego pontiffs and Godmen trying to market their non-ego philosophies—and for a good reason. Let’s face it, the modern concept of ego only serves to hide the real problem we face. That problem is the id which Freud said is "untamed passions."  From a Buddhist perspective our biggest untamed passion is clinging to the psychophysical body (the five Mara aggregates) wanting to use our psycho-physical body for a pleasure giving machine.  Thank goodness in Buddhism the Western notion of ego is absent.  What we have is this:

To think ‘etam mama’ (this is mine) is to be in the grip of craving.

To think ‘eso aham asmi’ (I am this) is to be in the grip of pride.

To think ‘eso me attâ’ (this is my self) is to be in the grip of wrong view.

This triad is generally connected with the Five Aggregates which are always synonymous with suffering. We can never attain nirvana or the same, liberation, by regarding the aggregates that make up our psychophysical body as this is mine, I am this, and this is my self. But we do—it’s the modern way—and we do so by a variety of clever and self-deluding means.  

We refuse to accept the limits of our the psychophysical existence.  By not really accepting the inevitable suffering of our psychophysical organism which includes its impermanence, we set ourselves up for more samsara.  This is not the fault of the ego which Freud says  represents reason and circumspection—it’s the problem with our id.  We want to indulge in the flesh.  The psychophysical body is our pleasure giving machine until it craps out.

Dumping the conditioned

Those who become deeply interested in studying Buddhism to experience what Siddhartha did when he became awakened, that is, became Buddha, realize that they have to dump all their Western ideas about religion as well as their presuppositions about Buddhism.  In other words, they have to dump the strategy of seeking the unconditioned using, so to speak, the compass of the conditioned.  

Buddhism is a unique religion.  In it, there is no God or Savior who is going to carry us to the other shore.  The other shore, in a matter of speaking, is already here.  It is only hidden by the conditioned world to which we tenaciously cling along with its ideas and values.  We never pause from our clinging to this conditioned world long enough to realize the unconditioned.  So conditioned are we, that we imagine this is the only way things can be—there is no other way or another entirely different vision possible.

If the universe had its very own religion, to be sure, it would be Buddhism which alone aims at the unconditioned.  And if the universe were made from a mysterious unconditioned essence or substance, this is what we would strive to realize like Siddhartha who became a Buddha (i.e., one awakened to this essence).

Short of this, what can we expect Buddhism to be?  Because of our attachment to the conditioned world, we turn Buddhism into a system of conduct in which we become like sheep, allowing ourselves to be guided by stronger and bigger sheep who are as spiritually empty as we are.  There is not much we can hope for by being spiritually blind enforcing and perpetuating this blindness.  

Modern Buddhism, short of aiming towards what Siddhartha experienced, is just our same old world only in different more vibrant colors.  In such a state we are no more than actors with another script that has been put into our hands by other actors.  Buddhism’s present metamorphosis into something modern that we can all appreciate and run to, is surely a red flag that we are still not ready to dump our attachments to the conditioned world, despite its obvious decadence.

Relative no-self

One can look at the doctrine of an-attâ (no-self) through the perspective of relative and absolute. The doctrine of relative anattâ holds that the Nikayas teach that the five aggregates, the senses with their respective sense fields, are not the self and the self is not them.  

On the other hand, the doctrine of absolute anattâ denies altogether the reality of the self which in Pali would actually be nattha-attâ.  The absolute position is not saying the Buddha did not use the term attâ alone or in compounds. But such use expresses a conventional self so that the doctrine absolute anattâ still holds true.

But how good does the theory of absolute anattâ hold up, for example, in this passage which is from the Mahaparinibbana Sutta (D. ii. 120)?

My age is fully ripe, my life is at an end. 
I shall depart leaving you. I have made a refuge for the self (katam me saram attano)."

It is hard to believe that the dying Buddha makes a refuge for the self, or even brings up such an idea, after having, supposedly, taught his followers there is no self. To do so would mean that his entire teaching is at odds with itself and confusing. The only way to get out of this conundrum is to acknowledge relative or qualified anattâ.

 

 

 

 

Odysseus Zen

Sitting in meditation could be something akin to Odysseus being tied to the mast so he could hear the songs of the Sirens and not be as affected, while his crew, for their safety, plugged their ears with beeswax.

Sitting is like being tied to the mast which helps us to resist the power of the Sirens.  The deadly songs of the Sirens are the enchanting power of the Five Aggregates, which belong to Mara the Evil One.  When we hear the demon Siren sing of physical shape we realize that this is not mine, this am I not, this is not my self.  The same goes for the rest, namely, feeling, perception, habitual tendencies, and consciousness.

Constantly, these demons are at work.  Not for a moment do their deadly, alluring songs cease.  But as we learn not to react to their call, which weakens us and makes us to believe even more we are the aggregates, their power over us gradually wanes.

Related to this, the Buddha said in a discourse:

“Here, secluded from sensual pleasures ... a bhikkhus enters and dwells in the first jhâna ... He considers whatever phenomena exist there pertaining to form, feeling, perception, volitional activities, and consciousness as impermanent, suffering, an illness, a boil, a dart, misery, affliction, alien, disintegrating, empty, and non-self.  He turns him mind away from these phenomena and directs it to the deathless element thus:  ‘This is peaceful, this is sublime, that is, the stilling of all activities, the relinquishing of all acquisitions, the destruction of craving, dispassion, cessation, nibbana” (A. iv. 422–23).

As part of the first jhâna or dhyâna (J., zen-na) rejecting the Five Aggregates is both necessary and important which, incidentally, is not taught in present day Zen circles to my knowledge.  Why it is not taught I have no answer. 

Not overestimating one's ability

I think anyone new to Buddhism more than often ends up overestimating their ability to grasp the core teaching of Buddhism.  Indeed, one can easily delude oneself into believing they can grasp the real message of the Buddha in only a few years.  However, it takes a lot longer because as a religion, Buddhism is by far the most profound.  This profundity is only appreciated when one has gone back to the drawing board a lot of times trying to figure out the real message of the Buddha.  I speak from experience.  Still, one never gives up the search.  In fact, their appetite should grow for wanting to see what Siddhartha saw when he  became awakened.

Failure—not success—is generally what happens to the enthusiast who believes he or she can master Buddhism in a few years.  Stephen Batchelor, I hasten to add, is a good example.  He was the quintessential enthusiast but as time went on, he failed at comprehending the message of the Buddha.  To save face, he invented his own brand of Buddhism.  Many Western teachers, to my mind, are more failure than success.  All have failed in their quest to see what Siddhartha saw.

Buddhism contains within it itself its own process of bringing to fruition awakening or bodhi.  In a manner of speaking, it largely depends upon having a spiritual nose being able to follow the faint scent of Dharma.  Speaking of my own journey, when I read Yunmen’s three gates which are: 1) What contains and includes the universe? 2) What stops the flow of reincarnation? 3) What is the state of one wave following another? I knew Buddhism was no ordinary path or a religion like Christianity.  

The more familiar I became with Zen literature the more it became apparent to me that I had to have some sort of profound realization or epiphany.  Nothing short of this would work.  Instinctively, I knew that this realization or satori would be instrumental in putting the Buddhist puzzle back together again in addition to revealing how koans worked.

Buddhists, on the whole, have been unsuccessful in putting the Buddhist puzzle back together including understanding how koans work.  Buddhism still lies in pieces—the original picture all but lost.  To repeat myself. somewhat, this is due in large part to a kind of subtle hubris by which one overestimates their ability to comprehend what Buddhism is really about.  Someone suffering from this generally finds it easier to follow a particular doctrine than investigate, on their own, what the Buddha actually said.  They don’t realize that various Buddhist doctrines like the Theravada doctrine of No-Self might well be completely wrong as might be Nagarjuna’s Shunyavada. 

Pop Buddhism

It is hard to lump up the goings on of modern Buddhism with one concise word.  I decided to use “pop Buddhism” as a catchall term.  Alongside of this, there is an implied contrast which is not “unpopular Buddhism” but more like esoteric Buddhism.  Such Buddhism is for a certain type of person (in the Buddha’s discourses these persons are called arya).  It is mystical in its orientation insofar as almost all of the Buddha’s discourses are of an anagogical nature referring to the transcendent or unconditioned world which is beyond the reach and range of the temporal.

Everyone who becomes interested in Buddhism for the first time begins as a pop Buddhist.  They have a few ideas about what they believe Buddhism teaches, for example, compassion, being a vegetarian, or doing meditation.  The other dimension to this is not everyone stays a pop Buddhist.  Some have a nose for the esoteric who are thus able to leave the pop Buddhist world in a year or so.  They are not uncomfortable with the Buddha’s anagogical discourses which point beyond our temporal world.  Regrettably, others never leave the fold of pop Buddhism.

Pop Buddhism, in a word, is not Buddhism.  Measured against the Buddha’s discourses pop Buddhism’s interpretation of what the Buddha taught is too materialistic and to a lesser extent, behavior oriented.  Pop Buddhism is like Ellis Island in the old days when immigration to the U.S. was at its highest point. It acted as a point of transition.  Not one new immigrant knew what life was actually like in the U.S.  All, pretty much, had pie-in-the-sky dreams of America.  Much of it was wrong.  When these immigrants actually entered the U.S., they saw an America not of their dreams but one, nevertheless, that offered immense possibility unlike in their native country. 

Pop Buddhists are, figuratively speaking, still on Ellis Island.  Most will not get off.

Off his rocker

 Does Buddhism teach non-ego or even ego?  The short answer is absolutely not.  The terms non-ego and ego are strictly Western terms that have been introduced into Buddhism which have no parallels in the actual discourses of the Buddha.  

Ego is a calque.  It nowhere comes close to the range of meanings that the Sanskrit word âtman or Pali attâ contain.  There is so much variance between the terms, ego and âtman/attâ that it is astonishing that the term ego would be used in a translation (in fact, it is not which means  translators have recognized its inadequacy).

Let’s take an accepted Pali translation and for the word ‘self’ (attâ), substitute ‘ego’.

“Bhikkhus, form is non-ego.  What is non-ego should be seen as it really is with correct wisdom thus:  ‘This is not mine, this I am not, this is not my  ego.’ Feeling is non-ego... Perception is non-ego...Volitional formations are non-ego...Consciousness is non-ego.  What is non-ego should be seen as it really is with correct wisdom:  ‘This is not mine, this I am not, this is not my  ego.’” (S.iii.22–23).

Notice how this translation is not in favor of the non-ego but actually strikes against non-ego.  We can see that the Buddha understood the non-ego, namely, the Five Aggregates, to not be his ego.  In other words, the Buddha is upholding his ego against the non-ego!

A brief aside, taking into consideration that the Five Aggregates also belong to Mara, who is the Buddhist devil , it is rather odd that the world of evil is non-ego—never ego.

The case grows against the strategy of using the specialized Western terms, non-ego and ego, as adequate equivalents of anâtman/anattâ and âtman/attâ.  Once more, substituting ‘ego’ for self (attâ) in an accepted Pali translation, we discover this oddity: “Radha, you should abandon desire for whatever is non-ego” (S. iv. 49).  Here is one more example using the same kind of substitution.

“Therefore, Ananda, stay as those who have their ego as an island, as those who have the ego as refuge, as those who have no other refuge; as those who have the dharma as an island, as those who have dhamma as refuge, as those who have no other refuge” (Mahaparinibbana Sutta).

Rather than go into the many different meanings of ‘ego’ that have evolved, beginning with Freud, it suffices to say that any Buddhist who drags in the terms ego and non-ego as adequate substitutions for self (âtman/attâ) and no-self (anâtman/anattâ), is off his rocker.