Question:

One thing that I find both off putting and frustrating about what I see as Buddhism in America is that is seems almost elitist. People go on and on about the importance of retreat. While I have no doubt about the importance of a retreat to truly give the mind some space to develop, it cannot be feasible for all people. Even in the places where Buddhism is the norm, not everyone is a monk. My question is this: How do the lay people in places where people are primarily Buddhist practice Buddhism in their lives in a practical way? What do you think Buddhism can be in a western society for everyday people? This is something that has been bothering me for some time. I appreciate anything you have to say about the matter.

Answer:

Specifically addressing retreats: Keep in mind that many of the people advocating retreats are the people taking money to lead retreats. Buddhism has become like everything else in the West, highly commercialized. Even the monks and teachers need to make money, and hosting a retreat is where many of the ‚Äúbig names‚Äù make their living. There’s nothing inherently wrong about that, but always look into a teacher’s motives when they recommend something. That being said, ‚Äúreal‚Äù Eastern monks do in fact go on retreats themselves occasionally. Master Sheng Yen, in ‚ÄúFootprints in the Snow‚Äù went on a ‚Äúsolitary retreat‚Äù for nine months once. One long retreat during his lifetime, not for a week every six months.

As far as the rest of your question is concerned, I think the primary difference is that in the West, we see Buddhism as a religion. It’s something that you choose to DO, and it’s an important, life-changing choice. In the East, however, they don’t really think about it, it’s just THERE. While I was in Japan, once in a while someone would ask about my religion, and when I answered that I was a Buddhist, and the answer was invariably, “What is that?” When I explained about following the teachings of Buddha, the answer was just about always an unexcited, “Oh that. Yes, me too.” It’s just part of their lives, something ingrained in them, it’s not a choice, it’s not an activity; they don’t DO Buddhism, they just live it. I’ve got a story about a dog that I think I’ll tell tomorrow that shows just how ingrained these ideas are.

I think it’s a lot like Christians in this country that don’t read the Bible much and don’t go to church. Christianity is there, they believe in it and they know all about it, it’s part of their identity, yet it’s not actively important to their day to day lives. It’s not hypocrisy, it’s more part of their background.

I don’t think Buddhism is going to have that kind of ‚Äúbackground power‚Äù in the West, at least not for several more generations. In the meantime, Buddhism will gain new converts who are excited about this ‚Äúexotic new thing,‚Äù and they will eagerly go off to retreats, buy Buddhist books, rent Buddhist videos, and so forth. It is new, and it all has to be learned, unlike those in the East who just sort of became Buddhists naturally, never having read a book on Buddhism in their lives. Hopefully, those excited new Western converts will stick around and learn to live by the precepts, follow the Path, and reduce suffering where they see it instead of just going off to a retreat every six months.

If this sounds negative, I don’t mean it that way. It’s just a case of new converts discovering a new way of looking at the universe as opposed to lifelong Buddhists who say, ‚ÄúOh that. Yes, me too.‚Äù

The Dog Story

Yesterday, I mentioned just how ingrained some of the ideas of Buddhism are in the East. Here is a little story that I think exemplifies the differences and just how deep they go.

One day in Japan, I had the afternoon off and was watching TV. My Japanese was limited, so TV was always a challenge, but once in a while I found a story I could follow. That afternoon, I tuned in to a children’s movie about a dog. I turned it on in the middle, and I assume the dog had gone on various adventures that I missed.

At the point in the story where I started watching, he was going to one of those schools that teach dogs how to assist blind people. Upon the dog’s graduation, he was assigned to a nice old man who was mostly blind. The dog and the old man lived together several years, and they loved each other very much (cue the ‚Äúhappy master and dog montage‚Äù). Then the old man suddenly died. The dog missed his master, and went to live with a younger couple who took care of the now-old dog. The dog too, grew sicker, finally having an accident that left him on his deathbed.

The old dog lay there on his bed, surrounded by his new family, all in tears. The camera looked down on the scene from above. The dog’s breathing grew shallower and shallower, the camera started to go dark. The dog’s eye’s closed and the camera faded to black. The heroic star of the movie, the dog, was dead. Yes, I was sniffling too by that time, but that’s not the point!

OK. So far, there’s nothing there that we all haven’t seen before in a tear-jerker dog movie, right? What do you suppose came next? I absolutely expected to see the camera fade back to a new scene with the dog, now in a cloudy realm. The dog would look over and see his old master, no longer blind, and probably a lot younger too. after a joyous reunion, the the two would walk off into the mist together, a happy ending after all. Does that seem like a normal story to you? Here in the West, that’s how it would have ended. Not this time.

Instead, the camera faded in to a blurry scene with lots of fuzzy action. The image clears, and we see a batch of newborn puppies, minutes old, drinking milk from their mother. The camera zooms in on one of the puppies, who we now realize is the reincarnation of our former hero-dog, ready to start some new adventures. The End.

That just blew me away at the time. For Japanese, reincarnation is every bit as accepted and ‚Äúnatural‚Äù as someone in the West going to Heaven. I[‚Äòm not saying they all believe it, any more than all Westerners believe in Heaven, but they all accept it as part of their culture to the extent that it’s in a children’s dog-movie and doesn’t require any explanation. Reincarnation is possibly the toughest part of Buddhism for Westerners to really accept, and here it is just an accepted part of children’s television.

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Question:

I am reading your introduction to the Eightfold Path. I’m a little lost with Right Effort (step 6) Do you go more fully into the 4 major actions, in any other podcast that I just haven’t found yet?

Answer:

Not yet, but now is a good time for it!

Right Effort is one step of the Eightfold Path. Way back in April I explained:

Right effort consists of four major actions that a Buddhist should attempt at all times:
1. Make an effort to prevent the creation of unwholesome states.
2. Make an effort to abandon pre-existing unwholesome states.
3. Make an effort to encourage wholesome states.
4. Make an effort to maintain pr-existing wholesome states.

What Buddha actually said was:

(i) There is the case where a monk generates desire, endeavors, activates persistence, upholds & exerts his intent for the sake of the non-arising of evil, unskillful qualities that have not yet arisen.

(ii) He generates desire, endeavors, activates persistence, upholds & exerts his intent for the sake of the abandonment of evil, unskillful qualities that have arisen.

(iii) He generates desire, endeavors, activates persistence, upholds & exerts his intent for the sake of the arising of skillful qualities that have not yet arisen.

(iv) He generates desire, endeavors, activates persistence, upholds & exerts his intent for the maintenance, non-confusion, increase, plenitude, development, & culmination of skillful qualities that have arisen: This, monks, is called right effort.

(From the Magga-Vibhanga Sutta, which I’ll include in full this weekend in Weekly Buddhism #8)

Right Effort is, in essence, mental energy directed toward something which can be either good or bad. The four steps above explain the most productive way to focus those mental energies. I have seen it explained that the best way to test yourself as to whether or not you have been applying right effort is to simply ask yourself, “Have I really tried today? Have I pushed myself to my limit, or did I take it easy today?”

Mandalas

One of my favorite items in Buddhist art is the mandala. You’ve almost certainly seen them before. They’re multicolored designs that are generally circular in shape on the outside and squared in the interior, having many other geometrical patterns within (see pictures at www.dailybuddhism.com ). According to Buddhists, a mandala represents the universe, and is a sort of symbolic map. As a person starts at the outside and works his way to the center of the mandala/universe, he symbolically finds the ‚Äúessence of reality.‚Äù

Although there are many types and forms of mandalas, probably the most distinctive are the ones made from sand. Monks build these images one grain of sand at a time. Usually four monks work together on a mandala after a long period of meditation and contemplation. Although sometimes a mandala is saved as a work of art, it is customary to mix up the sand, destroying the mandala after its completion; this symbolizes the impermanence of everything, including the universe itself.