Prayer

Mother Theresa was once asked about her prayer life.

The interviewer asked, "When you pray, what do you say to God?"

Mother Teresa replied, "I don't talk, I simply listen."

Believing he understood what she had just said, the interviewer next asked, "Ah, then what is it that God says to you when you pray?"

Mother Teresa replied, "He also doesn't talk. He also simply listens."

There was a long silence, with the interviewer seeming a bit confused and not knowing what to ask next.

Finally Mother Teresa breaks the silence by saying, "If you can't understand the meaning of what I've just said, I'm sorry but there's no way I can explain it any better."

Martin Luther King Day Prayer

I recited a prayer yesterday at the 6th Annual Interreligious Prayer Service for Peace and Justice commemorating Dr. Martin Luther King. It took place at the Unification Theological Seminary on West 43rd Street. I was there on behalf of my teacher who needed to be at the temple for Sunday services. Sunim had given me an awesome version of the Metta Sutta Meditation on Lovingkindness to read but when I arrived I was given something much shorter due to time constraints (there were 9 people reading a prayer from their respective faiths) While I'm not sure who wrote it, it was pretty decent nonetheless. I had to practice saying "beneficent celestials" (whatever the heck they are) a few times before my spot because I'm very often and easily tongue-tied. Had I known that phrase was in it beforehand I'd have reworded it because I don't think we should be holding our breath for friendly aliens to help us here on earth (or perhaps I'm being too literal) but what's done is done. 

You can see the video here (thanks to my fiancee and his iPhone)

Seven Buddhalicious New Year's Resolutions

Since most of us have surely broken our resolutions by now, I came up with a list that makes sense to me and doesn’t involve any new gym memberships, money expenditures, schooling, or dietary restrictions:

1. Set aside at least a few minutes a day to be still and silent. Let the mud settle so you can have some clarity and peace of mind. As my teacher says, it’s more important to do a minimum amount of practice regularly than a maximum amount of practice sporadically. Translation: five minutes a day every day is better than forty five minutes once or twice a week.

2. Practice generosity even when you're not in the most generous of moods and may feel like you'd much rather be the recipient than the giver.

3. Don’t indulge the voices and thoughts from inside that criticize yourself and others, and keep you mired in the past and worrying about the future. This isn't about repressing them or pretending they aren't there mind you, but just about not giving any weight to them anymore.

4. Recognize the power of speech and use words wisely. I'm talking about a post-"I’m not gonna be PC" mindset where you don't just say anything that comes to mind simply because you can, but instead realizing that the words we choose and use have a very real impact on ourselves and others. I've actually had to explain to several people recently why it's not ok to use the word "gay" to describe something as being outdated, overly feminine (whatever that means), distasteful, or geeky. 

5. Look people in the eye and smile at them even if you think there's absolutely no chance you'll ever see them or need them again. This applies to the bank teller, the grocery store check out clerk, a homeless person, your next door neighbor (this can be a hard one for New Yorkers),  your annoying mother, just about anyone you encounter on any given day. And don’t get pissy if they don’t smile back or respond, don’t expect anything at all, just do it freely and openly and notice how it feels (even if it feels strange).

6. Pay attention. Don’t get lost or zone out throughout the day, or rush through the things you consider a chore or a nuisance. Wash the dishes carefully and mindfully.  Shovel the shit off the sidewalk with the same attention you’d give to arranging a vase of flowers.  Keep an open and curious attitude toward the physical experience of each moment. Don’t miss out on your life in search of the next momentary distraction in the form of food or sex or shopping.

7. Remember that we’re all made of the same stuff, the same universal substance. Recognize the divinity and worth in every living thing, even if you don’t care for the particular form that it’s currently taking. It doesn’t make sense for a wave to see itself as any different from the foam at its tip, so try not to hate anyone even if they act like “the enemy.” H20 is water at one temperature, steam at a higher temperature, and ice at a lower temperature. Yet it’s all H20 just the same.   

Original Goodness, Original Sin

The beginning of a new year is a great time to remind ourselves that we can approach our lives in a fresh and open way. It's a good time to start with a clean slate, to set our calculator-minds back to zero, to erase our metaphorical chalk boards so we can get back in touch with our true nature and operate from there rather than that delusional place that believes we're all separate from everyone and everything else.


During my twelve years of Catholic school I was taught that we’re all born with original sin. Having been born essentially tainted, we're asked to search for salvation outside of ourselves even though Jesus Christ himself said that the kingdom of God is within you.


Buddhism teaches that we come into this world with what I call original goodness, or Buddha nature: a pure, perfect, loving nature that we simply need to get back in touch with. It’s always there just as the sun is always shining even behind the clouds on a stormy day. It isn’t something we need to try and get, it’s something we merely need to uncover.


If we’re going through life from the starting point of being damaged goods in need of repair from some far away and disconnected entity that judges us and our actions as good or bad, our motivations and behavior will be one way. But if we approach life from a place where we realize we’re inherently good, and we take the time to sit silently and mindfully so we can get a real glimpse of that goodness, then our actions will always be natural and right on. There won’t be any need to for over-thinking anything or following someone else’s set of one-size-fits-all rules. We can be in touch with our hearts and our true nature enough to know what the right course of action is at any given moment.


May we all attain a degree of sanity and peace of mind so we can better serve ourselves and each other.


Happy New Year!

Christmas

May we all appreciate each and every moment and fully recognize how precious our lives are.

May we stop grasping at outer sources of happiness and learn to sit in noble silence long enough to uncover the joy and goodness that already exists within us.

May we acknowledge the dignity and worth inherent in ourselves and every other being and thing around us.

Merry Christmas.

Street Prajna

In New York City we're very used to seeing people living on the street. We're a little too used to it.

Today I walked past the same homeless man on the sidewalk twice (once on my way to the gym and once on my way home). He was hunched forward as he gestured around with his hand as if talking to someone, very dazed and lethargic. He was in that in-between place that's hard to figure out--he might have been feverish or drunk or mentally ill but without interacting with him directly it was impossible to judge.

He helped me realize today that the more thinking I do, the less helpful I am. On a good day I'll see someone who appears to need some kind of assistance and simply respond in the best possible way, without plotting or thinking or second guessing myself.

Today I looked at this man and considered the possibility that I might catch some sort of skin disease by helping him. I wondered if anyone I knew would see me and think I was trying to be some in-your-face show-off do-gooder, or even worse, think I wasn't being a "real New Yorker" by not rushing by like everyone else was.

I thought about so much while this guy may have just needed a quarter or a sandwich or some serious medical attention.

This is all assuming he wanted or even needed my help. For all I know he might have been having a better day than I was. And my fantasies about coming to his aid may have been nothing more than the rumblings of my hungry ego.

We really aren't served very well and we certainly don't serve others very well when we rely on our thoughts alone. We're so disconnected from our hearts and our fundamental wisdom by the haze of thinking that seeps into every aspect of our daily experience that we miss opportunities to be present for ourselves and each other.

My teacher Sunim reminded me last night how important it is to incorporate our practice into our everyday life, no matter how busy or crazy or challenging our lives may be. May we all find a way to do that and serve those who need us.

Right Under Your Nose

May we use this time to remind ourselves that who we are right now is more than enough.

What we have right now is just fine.

The conditions of our life as they are in this moment are simply the way they are.

May we all learn to be content with what is right in front of us, since the only thing we can truly count on is that life will always be just as it is (nod to Charlotte Joko Beck).

Happy Thanksgiving!

Tidy Home, Tidy Mind

What Zen practice affirms for me is how important it is to have regard for our environment. While it may strike some as rigid and superficial to clean one's mat and cushion off every time a meditation session is over, it's really part of the practice of paying attention to what's happening right here and right now. My teacher Samu Sunim stresses this often. It matters that I stand dead center and right in front of my cushion each time I bow. It matters that the mats get cleaned before every Sunday public meditation service, even if no one shows up.

If we can have this kind of regard for every aspect of our life, this can have an impact on our practice and on our mind. Good habits on the outside are naturally part of what's inside, and vice versa. There is no separation.

The Importance of Surrender

We constantly have to let go, we have to do this over and over again.

Snakes shed their skin, trees shed their leaves, and we must shed the multitude of beliefs and words and things we identify with if we are ever to end our suffering.

People who spend their lives working hard to restrict and repeal the rights of others might as well be chopping off their left hands with their right ones. People who see them as the enemy are like an ocean wave that believes itself to be separate from the foam at its tip.

Attaching to a legal status for some false sense of solid ground is futile, even for those that can take such a status for granted. Hoping for the day when a majority of people favor equal rights for all beings is a noble cause and one that should be fought for diligently, but in the meantime, it is important to surrender to this moment and to the way things are right now.

The only other option is to be blown around by the political winds of the moment, and to be elated or deflated by the twists and turns of our extremely slow-to-change social mores.

Throw it all away, focus on your breath, do your part to end suffering for all beings.

Staying Still

The other day I saw a woman walking her dog in lower Manhattan (a fairly common site in a city where most are more likely to have a pet than a spouse). When faced with the traffic whizzing down Fifth Avenue, just before they were about to cross it, the dog suddenly stopped walking, froze in his tracks, and lay down on the sidewalk. People were passing by them, before them, behind them, but he was was having none of it. With all of the activity and rushing and noise around him, he decided to stop and be still for a few moments. His owner was flushed as she tried tugging at the leash to get him up and moving again to no avail.

We could all learn a lesson from that dog. Sometimes it's important to just pause and be still.

Right Now

The sound of the oscillating fan whirring back and forth doing it's job of cooling off the room.

The glow of the computer monitor that I consider man-made moonlight falls onto my outstretched hands.

The sound of cars zooming north on 8th Avenue outside my window, doing their job of taking people from here to there.

The occasional clacking noise I hear from the coffee maker every few minutes tells me it is keeping my coffee warm.

Just being here right now.

Anti-Impermanence Injections

If you want to see just how far some of us go to avoid the inevitability of impermanence, just look at a person's face. I see lots of people with foreheads that eerily lack any sign of aging, and eyebrows forever frozen in place from regular botox injections. More than a few TV and movie actors purposely limit their ability to emote and express naturally by paying dermatologists to pump them up with artificial fillers and botulism toxins that paralyze their muscles just so they can have smoother skin. More often then not the end result is imbalanced—it's like buying a brand new couch and sticking it in your living room amidst all your shabby old furniture—the newness of the couch makes everything around it look all the more tattered and worn out.

We all know we can't live forever and that change is inevitable yet we desperately try to keep things just as they are. We think we can halt or turn back the clock with the latest face cream or dietary supplement or risky plastic surgery. We spend hours of our time and thousands of dollars at the gym to fight any sign of aging. We try to keep people in the roles we're comfortable with, limiting their growth and our own in the process. We repeat old patterns of behavior that cause us suffering rather than trying a new way of relating to ourselves and the world that might give us some peace of mind and inspire happiness in the people we come in contact with.

I'm not entirely sure why I do some of these things (fortunately I can't stomach the idea of injecting my face with anything) or what exactly I'm trying to stave off other than the eventual ceasing of my existence in this particular form.

As I turn another year older today I'm aware of these tendencies of mine, of this inborn desire we all have to fix and improve and put off what we label as undesirable but in reality is completely unstoppable and natural.

Post-Retreat Report

I was assaulted during the first day of retreat. Not by another person but by my own mind. I can't remember feeling so trapped and resentful since my first day of kindergarten over 35 years ago.

I was furious with my Zen teacher because during the first morning meditation period when it was my turn for my "interview" (called Dokusan in the Japanese Zen lineages, and called I-don't-know-what in the Korean Zen traditions) he knew precisely was I wanted to ask him about before I even had a chance to speak. And he was saying exactly the opposite of what I wanted to hear since built into my question was the answer I wanted. I don't want to go into the details of what we talked about because these interview sessions are private and based on a student's individual needs. Suffice it to say I was dumbfounded by how he intuitively knew exactly what needed to be addressed as I approached him.

Instead of recognizing that as further evidence that he was the right teacher for me, I spent the rest of the sitting period (all three hours) coming up with a laundry list of reasons why I'd made a mistake by choosing him in the first place, and how once back in New York City I'd approach that "other teacher" I was considering just a few months earlier. The one who'd be more inclined to hold my hand through the rough spots and charm me with their softer, more Western approach to the dharma, what I thought I needed, as opposed to the hardcore, old-school approach that Sunim offered. No, I just don't respond very well to that, or at least that's what I thought that morning when my brain was basically throwing up all over me.

During the retreat, every minute of the day from 5 in the morning until 10 at night was scheduled for us, so once my mind settled into the experience I felt an incredible sense of contentment, and even joy at some very odd moments.

After lunch one day, after thoroughly cleaning the small bowl I had just eaten from by scraping every last crumb up with my index finger (I was just following everyone else's lead) I presented it to one of the Zen teachers for inspection in the kitchen before it went into the sink for washing. She eyeballed it, inside and out, and then put her hands together, bowing before me with a sincere look of gratitude and appreciation for what I'd just done. Never before had bowing back to someone seemed such an obvious and natural thing to do in return. I'd always felt a little strange about bowing until that moment, the highlight of my retreat experience.

There was no hot water or showers or private, comfortable sleeping quarters. It was all arranged to remove us from our normal day to day comforts and distractions and leave us with…with just ourselves and our minds I guess. And frankly I was shocked at how unruly my mind can be when things are the slightest bit out of whack.

The thing is, up until that day I really thought that I was a very "free" man—I mean, I work for myself and my schedule is basically my own and so I honestly believed that this meant I was free. I now see that freedom has nothing to do with those things. It has more to do with how I approach each moment before me. And much of the way I spend my own time, my "free time" isn't as fulfilling as it was to wipe my bowl clean and get an approving bow from a silent woman in gray robes.

On July 4 I took the precepts and received the dharma name Nosan (prounced NOH-SAHN) which means "old or ancient mountain." I love this name and I'm gradually incorporating it into my life. I think dharma names sometimes signify a quality someone already has or one that needs to be grown into, or perhaps a little of both. I'm not entirely sure what Sunim intended by naming me this but I do think it is my responsibility to uncover the layers of meaning buried within this name over the years as I continue to practice.

Retreat

I'm going on my first retreat in Toronto this weekend, and on the 4th of July I'll be taking the precepts (another first for me). What I'm the most curious about is what exactly will constitute "work practice." I understand it can mean anything from washing dishes to mopping the floor to raking leaves so I find this very intriguing. I'm so used to my daily routine and being completely in control of every minute of my day--I'm self employed and very independent by nature, so the idea of someone else deciding for me when wake up in the morning, when I sit or do walking meditation or when I do chores or what kind of chores I do is quite a novelty. It is really doing a number on my head. Not necessarily a bad number, just a number.

Buddhism Ain't Just Books

At a sangha meeting a few weeks ago we had an evening of intensive practice (sitting and walking) instead of the usual group discussion format (a short sit followed by a group discussion of some assigned reading material). Someone later commented to me on the side how he really preferred to talk than to meditate, and how much better he liked our "regular meetings." He meant no harm in saying this nor was he being critical—he was merely expressing a preference and in doing so did me a huge favor.

He inadvertently helped me realize that I'd been doing the group a disservice by not emphasizing the importance of regular practice enough. I discovered that I was in the same trap that a lot of Western Buddhists are in--the bottomless pit of dharma books and talks and cd's and mp3's and podcasts that do their best to explain Buddhism in purely intellectual terms. This is absolutely fine and necessary and a huge part of the practice life but first and foremost the whole point is that we have to PRACTICE…

If we know intellectually that touching a hot stove will burn our finger, we have some abstract concepts about what a burn might feel like, and how much it might hurt to touch it. We can talk about it and ponder it and write about it which is all well and good. If we actually touch a hot stove and scream "holy shit, that's hot!", our understanding of hotness and what it feels like to have burning finger flesh becomes much more real. We're experiencing something rather than thinking about it. That's the best way to truly understand something as far as I can tell.

We can talk about the dharma until we're blue in the face but if we don't sit regularly we can't ever fully grasp it.

Endings

On Saturday I received my certificate from the chaplaincy training program at the New York Zen Center for Contemplative Care. It was a very emotional experience for me, since our group had formed a unique bond over the past 10 months. Knowing them and being in their company taught me about kindness, authenticity, and how to give selflessly.

I thought I knew about all of these things when I started but I was wrong.

They all gave me so much without even realizing it, and it was a privilege to be in their company. I am missing them already.

Don't Roll Around in the Shit

Most of us believe that we are just not meant to experience pain. We’re genetically wired to resist it at any cost--which is perfectly understandable. If we didn't have a natural aversion to pain, we'd be ridiculously reckless most of the time because they're wouldn't be any incentive not to be. The problem is not that pain is a basic fact of life, but the way in which we handle this.

The Buddha taught that shit happens, but we don't have to roll around in it.

The first noble truth is that life is suffering. Suffering here can describe anything ranging from our relatively minor discomfort with the weather ( i.e. I love when it's warm out but I hate the humidity!) to the utter disgust and hatred some of us feel towards ourselves (i.e. I’m so fucking fat…I’m such a loser…why can’t I meet the right guy/girl?...my father was so mean to me and that’s why I’m so screwed up….)

We suffer when we combine our inborn aversion to pain with our misguided belief that the current state of affairs should be other than what they are.

Pain happens, and it's mandatory. None of us can live a pain-free life. Suffering is optional since it's merely something we create in response to that pain. We suffer when we try to push pain away. We do this in all kinds of ways, most commonly by creating a story in our heads around a painful experience. Then to top it off, we believe our thoughts as if they're real and then make decisions and engage in behaviors based on our deluded thinking.

Ain't that swell?

I'm slowly beginning to realize that I suffer when I refuse to simply experience unpleasant physical sensations and thoughts directly and instead choose to build a psychodrama around them. When I connect to the pain by feeling it's unique qualities, I allow myself some breathing room and the degree of my suffering decreases.

Sounds simple I know, but it isn't always easy.

One of our techniques for dealing with pain is to muster up some anger and blame someone else for it. A while back I tried this with a good friend of mine who was going through a rough break up. I encouraged her to "get angry" because I found her suffering too threatening somehow, too hard to witness. I didn't realize this at the time however and honestly thought I was doing her a favor by encouraging her to feel anger instead of the underlying pain she needed to experience.

We often look at pain as an obstacle to our spiritual life and forget that it is the one of the best vehicles to help us reach some level of balance in our lives. Practicing with pain and discomfort is one of the most useful things we can do. One of the points of meditation is to train us to sit with anything that comes up without running away from it. Sometimes it can be an itch on the nose that we really, really want to scratch, or a foot that falls asleep and freaks us out so much that we think we’ll never regain feeling in it again, or a dull pain in our knees that begs us to give it a break for a few seconds.

Whatever it is that comes up when we sit comes up in a much larger way in the rest of our lives. So when we say we're practicing by meditating, we really are practicing for our entire lives.

Spring Showers

On Friday evening I went to a party in Brooklyn. It was warm and drizzling when I left Manhattan on the F train but when I arrived in Park Slope it began pouring just as I was climbing up the subway stairs. It was cool enough to warrant a light jacket but wearing one caused me to perspire, just a little bit. Even though I had one of those small, cheap $5 umbrellas that magically appear on every city street corner and store front the second it begins to rain, I decided to wait out the onslaught of precipitation by hanging out under the canopy on the side of a corner restaurant. It was just about 7 pm and the sunlight was diffused softly through the bright clouds, and the trees lining the street were vibrantly green. The scent of newly growing foliage permeated the air and I could see a young woman looking up at the sky from her small table. It's really spring now.

What's Eating You? A Reflection on the precept "Not Indulging in Anger"

“What’s eating you?” is the perfect thing to ask since anger really does eat away at us emotionally and physically.



I see it as a habitual, conditioned response that shields against anything that would require me to feel more fragile and open. There is always something underneath anger I'd rather not experience—usually fear or sadness. My anger can be ignited by something as minor as an unintentional bump in the subway, or by something I perceive to be poor treatment by someone else: a remark that I decide is hurtful, or a behavior that I interpret as insensitive.

What lays beneath my anger is the misconception that there are certain ways in which the course of history ought to progress, and when it doesn’t go according to my grand plan I want to pick up my marbles and run over to another corner of the playground where everything is more to my liking.

My mind is like a mini courtroom with a virtual judge and jury that constantly weighs in on every situation I encounter. I deem some of these situations to be unfair or unjust and I get a lot of pleasure out of coming up with reasons as to why I'm "right". Most of the time the defense produces a very compelling case that justifies why I am angry and who is to blame. Not surprisingly, this inner jury almost always decides in my favor.

There is no such thing as “righteous anger” because nothing good is ever produced from an angry thought or a decision made under the influence of this emotion. Our culture is very big on expressing anger and even psychologists and psychotherapists encourage us to do so. I used to think that expressing anger was a wonderful thing, even if it meant punching a pillow or screaming out loud in an empty room. I’m no longer so sure that expressing anger really does anything beneficial at all—and in fact I tend to think that doing so might be harmful and ultimately counterproductive. I think the best way to deal with anger is to simply experience the emotion, to be aware of the thoughts that set it off, and to feel physical sensations that accompany it. It really does feel great when we lash out at another person by yelling, arguing or behaving aggressively—for a moment. But anger is a bottomless pit, an insatiable fire that wants to be constantly fed with the coals of our insecurities, our sadness, and our fears.

Some people think that getting angry is a necessary component of social change. But the people that are looked up to the most in this world acted with a passion that was tempered with awareness, patience, and loving action. None of the public figures that we admire today (ie Martin Luther King, Nelson Mandela, Gandhi, Mother Theresa, the Dalai Lama) attained their status by being aggressive or cruel. What makes them so memorable is that they achieved great things by helping countless numbers of people through their positive actions and their virtuous examples.

We can work through anger by being aware of it and how it really feels in our bodies. It is important to become aware of the underlying emotions and thought patterns that give way to the rage we suffer from if we ever hope to move beyond it. If we relate to our anger instead of from it, we have a chance to free ourselves from the pattern of behaviors that cause so much harm to ourselves and others. If we let ourselves simply experience anger instead of reacting whenever it comes up, it will gradually lose its hold over us.

It isn't a stumbling block on our way to waking up. It is an invaluable tool that will help us do so, as long as we pay attention.

Buddhism and Sexuality

This was a response I added to a posting on another blog about sexworkers and Buddhism. It is rather brief considering how complex a matter sexuality is, but I think it effectively sums up my view about sexuality and morality:


I think sexuality or any other area of life can be engaged in wisely or unwisely.

It is true that a sex worker could misuse sex. It is also true that a psychologist could misuse psychology or a hair stylist could misuse cosmetology. If we are not mindful, aware, and well-intentioned, the results of any of our activities can be negative.

If our aspiration is positive, and we stay present and aware as much as possible, the effects of our behavior are more likely to be positive. This goes for a sex worker, bricklayer, politician, psychotherapist, athlete, whatever.

It is odd how people single out sex for misuse and put a lot time and energy into moralizing over it while at the same time claiming that buddhism is not a judgmental religion.

Let’s be mindful of that and not give in to the usual negative knee jerk reactions when it comes to sexuality.