Lincoln was a buddha

by Tom Armstrong

Writing in 1880, John Caird, looking back at the man's life, wrote these eloquent summarizing words

…[My overall impression] is that of a man who combined with intellectual originality other and not less essential elements of greatness, such as magnanimity and moral elevation of nature, superiority to vulgar passions, and absorption of mind with larger objects, such as rendered him absolutely insensible to personal ambition, also self-reliance and strength of will – the confidence that comes from consciousness of power and resource – the quiet, patient, unflinching resolution which wavers not from its purpose in the face of dangers and difficulties that baffle or wear out men of meaner mould. Along with these, we must ascribe to him other qualities not always or often combined with them, such as sweetness, gentleness, quickness and width of sympathy.

Caird's words are about Gautama Buddha, but can very much be said of Abraham Lincoln, as well – a person no less extraordinary and no less different from the people all about him such that his impact was astonishing. Events, time and place all had overwhelming influence in making Buddha Gautama and Abraham Lincoln immortal persons. But both had buddhaseeds sprouting when they were children. And both acted in ways that baffle ordinary men.

Buddha Gautama is a whole other story. He decided to try to let others in on what propelled him. Abraham Lincoln's strange life's journey led him to center stage during America's most trying time, just at that pivotal moment when the baton of the presidency needed to be passed … to that rare diamond, a buddha.

Caird's assessment is interesting in that he didn't apprehend Gautama Buddha as being a buddha. His opinion was what he came to know of Guatama as a man, from what documents he read, compared to ordinary men. Likewise, persons who knew Abraham Lincoln, most all of whom appraised him as an astonishing human being, did not have the wherewithal to assess his high spiritual attainment directly.

Young Mr. Lincoln

The shorthand for Lincoln's boyhood days are that his mother died when he was quite young, but, happily, a wonderful, loving stepmother took her place in his life; he lived in a log cabin; he was naturally athletic, but he was inclined to turn his head toward the pages of a book; and in all ways, even as a youngster, he was honest and wholesome.

All of the above is true. What is not understood is that it is true to an outrageous extreme. Furthermore, it is not understood, except by scholars, that Lincoln was very much not the pastoral, ah-shucks Huckleberry of legend and as portrayed in old movies, but was instead an outlandish alien freakazoid! If he had had a single eye in the middle of his forehead, pointy ears and the ability to fly he would have been a more natural citizen of placid rural Indiana & Illinois than the gawky, two-eyed, big-eared, non-flying Abe Lincoln reality who was born in 1809 and died from an assassin's bullet.

Rural Indiana and Illinois of the 1810s and 20s was the edge of the wild, uncivilized West. The land was rustic and primal as were the isolated homesteading inhabitants. Boys were supposed to be especially ornery and mean and scarred up and smelly. They would torture animals and torture each other and had distain for learning much more than how to shoe a horse or slaughter a pig. Constant hard physical labor was required of all members of a family to stave off death in the boggy, cold, isolated areas where Lincoln grew up. Poisoned milk killed Lincoln's mother, his maternal grandparents and others. A harsh winter killed scores of neighbors – some found only after the spring thaw.

One thing remembered by many who knew him as a small child was his love of animals. One schoolmate remembered that he quite seriously lectured others about ants' right to life; another, that he broke up a gang of 'mates that were torturing terrapin turtles for entertainment and that he composed essays against cruelty toward animals on multiple occasions.

Though hunting was one of the few pleasures for men and boys of the rural Midwest, Lincoln would not hunt. And though his farming background could have been of great advantage to him politically, he didn't speak of it – most probably since memories of it were admixed with the pain of having been hired out by his father to help slaughter pigs.

William Lee Miller, author of the book “Lincoln's Virtues” wrote “Throughout the life of that extraordinary hired hand whose name was Abraham Lincoln, there would be a recurrent pattern: an initial impression of the boy or the lad or the man, derived from externals and superficialities, would then be overthrown by the shock of recognition of this intellectual power.” Miller, it seems to me, has it mostly right, but from (my interpretation of) the words of others in his book and other books [and of these, most-especially William Herndon's “The Hidden Lincoln”] it is not “intellectual power” that throws people for a loop – rather it's Lincoln's emptiness of guile and ineffable Buddha glow that might find expression through his intellect, but might also shine from his compassion, humanity or just the way he held an ax.

A Religious Man

Mary Todd Lincoln said, after her husband's death, “He never joined a church; but still, as I believe, he was a religious man by nature.”

As a young man Lincoln would engage in discussions advocating a “doctrine of necessity,” that opposed unfettered free will. I think this is very much a young person's insight into the interconnectedness of all things and beings and the chain of causes that seem to determine all events. A less magnificent person than Lincoln is likely to develop from this beginning, a religious sensibility grounded in scientism. Compassion toward others then becomes just a wildly romantic indulgence. But Lincoln, above everything was vividly compassionate and it was through this lens that he increasingly sought wisdom.

The beauty of his character was its entire simplicity. … True to nature, true to himself, he was true to everybody and everything about and around him. When he was ignorant on any subject, no matter how simple it might make him appear he was always willing to acknowledge it. His whole aim in life was to be true to himself and being true to himself he would be false to no one. – Joshua Speed, one of Lincoln's closest friends.

Speed's statement is as clarion a depiction of authenticity as you might find. Authenticity is a requirement for spiritual advancement.

In his mid-20s, Lincoln wrote a manuscript showing that the Bible was false. He did not believe that Jesus was God and could not believe that a true God would bring punishment to his 'children' when the laws of cause and effect that he saw in the world were pre-eminent forces. His friends were shocked by his beliefs that his law partner, William Herndon, contends he maintained throughout his life. Fearing for his political future, one friend burned the manuscript to keep it from being published. Still, Lincoln – who continued to be forthright and outspoken on the subject – was dogged by a reputation thereafter for being an infidel which was politically damaging.

With Malice toward none …

Leonard Swett, a close friend of Lincoln's, said in an interview, a year after the assassination, “He was certainly a very poor hater. He never judged men by his like, or dislike for them. If any given act was to be performed, he could understand that his enemy could do it just as well as any one. If a man had maligned him, or been guilty of personal ill-treatment and abuse, and was the fittest man for the place, he would put him in his Cabinet just as soon as he would his friend. I do not think he ever removed a man because he was his enemy, or because he disliked him.”

Indeed, Swett's words are a gross understatement; Lincoln was incapable of hate. Lincoln included on his initial Cabinet men who were his rivals for the Republican nomination in 1860 -- and he was especially gracious to guarantee the acceptance of his chief rival, William Seward, to the post of Secretary of State.

Edwin M. Stanton, who was Lincoln's second Secretary of War, is a particularly curious case. Stanton (of whom Fredrick Douglass would observe, “Politeness was not one of his weaknesses”) had ignored Lincoln, utterly, when – many years before he became president -- they were two of three lawyers chosen to represent a company for a particularly important civil suit. Lincoln was not a well-educated East Coast attorney, like the others. Judged from the fact that Lincoln was a rural Illinois lawyer, gangly and not well dressed, he was kept silent at the lawyers' table and the closing argument which he had prepared went unheard and was curtly ignored: The text, that Lincoln had passed on to his colleagues in a sealed letter, was returned to him unopened.

In the first years of the Lincoln administration, there are public records of Stanton referring to Lincoln as an imbecile (twice) and a baboon, yet Lincoln was undeterred in his selection of Stanton as his Secretary of War. He selected the best person for the position and ignored all else.

Observes William Lee Miller, “[Lincoln's] 'ego,' as we call it now, did not distort his good mind's working. His considerable self-confidence notwithstanding, he would achieve a detached and proportionate sense of himself in relation to an unflinching measure of the scope and meaning of the enormous human drama that confronted him. His self did not get in the way.”

Ambition

The biggest character flaw that William Lee Miller tags Lincoln with is ambition. It would also be an overwhelming obstacle to the thesis that Lincoln is a Buddha, if one agrees with Miller that at times Lincoln pushed himself forward, instead of doing the right thing that might have been politically disadvantageous.

For Miller, Ambition first comes up when looking at Lincoln's vocational choices. Instead of remaining in his rural community, either as a farmer or businessman, Lincoln chose to become a lawyer and move to the city of Springfield.

Despite his wide-ranging, superlative skills, Lincoln may have had fewer options than Miller supposes. Saddled with deep compassion for the suffering of animals, he was not suited for farm work. Much as a Buddhist is indisposed to take up the profession of being a butcher, Lincoln was indisposed to make his life's work one that included the slaughtering of farm animals.

Entrepreneurs need to be of a character such that they are eager to profit, overgreatly at times, at the expense of unwitting customers in order to make their businesses thrive. Lincoln did not have the disposition required for him to be a successful businessman. Indeed, young Lincoln's business ventures failed, putting him in a deep debt that took years for him to extricate himself from.

Becoming a lawyer, and tossing himself into the political maelstrom of his time and place, seems to have been the vocational path (and spiritual challenge) that was left to him after crossing off others. His wasn't a fulsome, consuming ambition; rather, it was that last path available that was suitable to his blend of talents and weaknesses.

Lincoln's Face

“At first glance, some thought him grotesque, even ugly, and almost all considered him homely. When preoccupied or in repose he certainly was far from handsome. At times he looked unutterably sad, as if every sorrow were his own, or he looked merely dull, with a vacant gaze,” one observer wrote. Still, as even the caustic Englishman Dicey observed, there was for all his grotesqueness, "an air of strength, physical as well as moral, and a strange look of dignity" about him. And when he spoke a miracle occurred. "The dull, listless features dropped like a mask." according to Horace White, an editor of the "Chicago Tribune". "The eyes began to sparkle, the mouth to smile, the whole countenance was wreathed in animation, so that a stranger would have to say, "Why this face, so angular and somber a moment ago, is really handsome!" He was the homeliest man I ever saw." said Donn Piatt, and yet there was something about the face that Piatt never forgot. "It brightened, like a lit lantern, when animated."

The poet Walt Whitman commented after getting a close-up view: "None of the artists or pictures have caught the subtle and indirect expression of this man's face." And again, some years after Lincoln's death: "Though hundreds of portraits have been made, by painters and photographers (many to pass on, by copies, to future times), I have never seen one yet that in my opinion deserved to be called a perfectly good likeness: nor do I believe there is really such a one in existence."

"Beyond a certain point Lincoln's appearance not only defied description; it also baffled interpretation. "There is something in the face which I cannot understand." said Congressman Henry L. Dawes of Massachusetts. And the leader of the German-Americans in Illinois, Gustave Koerner, remarked: "Something about the man, the face is unfathomable. In his looks there were hints of mysteries within."

Buddha as a Man; Lincoln as a Man

In the middle of the 19th Century, when Lincoln was being assessed as a heroic and tragic figure, Buddha was being introduced and examined by Victorian England. Since others' assessments of Lincoln are colored by culture, time and place, I think it is interesting to see how similarly Buddha Gautama was viewed.

From the book “The British Discovery of Buddhism,” comes this quote:

Of all the qualities praised, it is the Buddha's compassion and sympathy that was most often remarked upon. Millions were won by his intense sympathy for suffering, observed Joseph Edkins [quoted in Remarks on Budhism (sic)]. According to The Westminster Review in 1878, his was 'the example of a life in which the loftiest morality was softened and beautified by unbounded charity and devotion to the good of his fellow-men'; and The Church Quarterly Review for 1882 viewed him as one 'who, born a prince, sympathized with the sorrows and the moral struggles of the meanest; who … opened his arms to receive as a brother every one who pursued goodness, truth, unselfishness, and his ideal …' George Grant remarked in 1895 that, after making all allowances for accretions, the picture remains of an extraordinary man 'the memory of whose unselfish life, thirst for truth, and love for humanity ought to be honoured to the latest generations.'

Fittingly, the last year of the century, William Rattigan drew together the Victorian assessment of the Buddha:

Having regard to the intellectual and religious darkness of the period, it is impossible not to accord a high degree of admiration to Gautama for the lofty percepts he enunciated, for the gentleness and sereneness which pervade his utterances, for the deeply sympathetic and profoundly humanitarian spirit which underlie his doctrines, and for the manly endeavour he made to arouse a true feeling of self-reliance amoungst a people prone to lean for support upon others.

In league with this, Lincoln concluded his second inaugural with these famous words:

With malice toward none, with charity for all, with firmness in the right as God gives us to see the right, let us strive on to finish the work we are in, to bind up the nation's wounds, to care for him who shall have borne the battle and for his widow and his orphan, to do all which may achieve and cherish a just and lasting peace among ourselves and with all nations. 

Conclusion

Yes, we exhaust ourselves on the legend of Lincoln in the fifth grade, and for us he becomes a tired relic, like Mickey Mouse and Lady GaGa and Harry Potter's glasses. His face – unanimated and serene – stares out at us from pennies and five-dollar bills. His wise words are just etchings on bronze somewhere -- the life that once was in his words has been expelled. “Fourscore and seven years …” sounds like a tiresome history lesson to us today, not the beginning of a speech, rich and eloquence, that brought chills and tears to Americans for decades after the speech was spoken.

If you pull together all the assessments of Lincoln, it is a remarkable record. He was greatly beloved by all in the communities he lived in. He was the dazzling, pre-eminent person – giving, loving and vividly authentic. Absolutely honest. Absolutely dependable. Fully in touch with the pain of others'. He held no grudges and condemned no one. He believed there was clarion truth in the notion that created America – that all had equal rights to live and equivalent right to live in liberty and pursue happiness. No one could be a master since no one should be a slave. And no one could be a slave since no one should be a master.

Somewhere back in misty time, one of the buddhas that walked this earthy earth became president of the United States. And it made a difference.

[Versions of this post were put up previously in Zen Unbound and the blog Homeless Tom.]

Was the Buddha Black?

Close your eyes.* Imagine Buddha seated in front of you. Spend a moment scanning the scene. What features does your Buddha have?

This is an interesting practice not only because it is a very common traditional practice of Buddhism, the recollection or visualization of the Buddha, but also for what it tells us about our conditioning, cultural or otherwise.

Odds are, you're not visualizing Keanu Reeves, from his role as the Buddha in "Little Buddha." But perhaps something close? With the tree, yellow robe, fair skin, and black, curled hair (flower petals optional).

Or perhaps something a bit more 'Vajrayana'? Perhaps a blue-skinned Medicine Buddha, sitting upon a lotus throne with red, yellow, and green aureolas. (painting courtesy my friends at Osel Shen Phen Ling, Missoula, MT.)

My own little office shrine, with an Indian-carved wooden Buddha in meditation posture and a Tibetan thanka with Buddha in earth-touching posture.

Or another computer-generated or enhanced, but slightly more traditional version... The above is from my time in Yangon (Rangoon), Myanmar (Burma). I call it my "Jesus-Buddha-Bieber" photo. 

Other possibilities abound.

There's the still quite traditional SE Asian form of Buddha found at Borobudur, Indonesia.

And the ever-cute but not correct "Buddha" from Chinese folk mythology, better known as Hotei or Butai. This guy didn't become a or the Buddha as far as I know until some unknowing Westerners started seeing him in Chinese food restaurants (I worked in one such restaurant in high school, and still remember the "Buddha fountain" in the entrance).

And then there's the also incorrect and surely-offensive-to-someone golden Hotei costume... I'm reminded of a post from a bit over a year ago by John over at Zendirtzendust, where he posted a picture of Gollum (From Lord of the Rings) and suggested that the famous "32 Marks" of the Buddha would have left him looking a bit gollumish if he in fact had them. The title, "Buddha, Sex Symbol for the Ages" was a bit irreverent (as was the post) and the discussion quickly went to the appropriateness (or lack thereof) of certain levels or kinds of humor. Nathan, over at Dangerous Harvests, picks up on that whole conversation.

Obviously from all of that, how we imagine the Buddha, given the plethora of scriptural descriptions, paintings, and statues, matters. So it was with some interest today when I came across a very intriguing article simply called, "The Buddha was Bald." The author, Eisel Mazard, cites numerous instances in the Pali Canon supporting the idea that the Buddha was bald and/or undifferentiated from his male companions (who are always depicted as bald).

Mazard makes some headway into exploring how and why later sūtras (mainly from the Mahāyāna) and statues, which began in Gandhara, depict the Buddha with hair. And while I don't agree with all of his conclusions -see the comments in the article- I appreciate the piece for opening new and perhaps more historically correct windows into our imaginations about the historical Buddha. Some suttas even depict the Buddha as being "black" - a culturally loaded term, then as now - usually referring to someone of lower caste and/or with heritage coming from southern India where people were, and are, mostly much darker in skin tone than in the north.

We might then even wonder if we should imagine the Buddha as both bald and black. The great DVD series, Story of India, begins with the story of early human inhabitants in India coming right across the Arabian peninsula and into western and south-western India. And, if I remember correctly, these people remained largely isolated over thousands of years while humanity spread out across the globe, slowly changing their morphology (appearance) as they did so - those going further north generally becoming paler. Then, as we learn in an India or Buddhism 101 course, a warrior/herder/horse-riding people calling themselves the Aryans ("Nobles") moved down from somewhere in the Caucases and into north India.

In Buddhism 201 we could talk about Indo-European languages, noting that the same people who went into India also spread out throughout Europe, as far flung as Ireland. The name "Ireland" itself derives from the word "Aryan." So does the name of another country. Any guesses which one? In any case, these people, along with laying the foundations of a broad variety of languages, were paler than either the people of Africa or those in southern India. Perhaps due to the dynamics of power as the Aryans made their way into India, or due to disease (a thesis powerfully defended by William McNeill in Plagues and Peoples), darker skin came to be seen as inferior or unclean there.

So here the use of the term "black" (kaṇhā), may fall into the category of a general insult, rather than a literal description. On the other hand, the Buddha may well have been much darker skinned than we are accustomed to seeing him depicted as. Shock. If he were, it might also make sense for later Buddhists to overlook this detail, depicting him in the most ideal form conceivable. We already know for instance that the name "Siddhārtha," meaning one who's goal is accomplished, was not 'given' to him in the earliest strata of textual evidence, but only appears later. Likewise, the story of his father as a powerful king has been shown to be greatly exaggerated, if holding any truth at all. So perhaps the myth of a fair and 'golden skinned' Buddha is just that, a myth.

As a scholar, I would appreciate more attention to this issue. And I'm sure those with anti/post-colonialist tendencies can find further directions to take this. As for practitioners - it seems that Buddhism, both in many doctrines and art, has taken on many different shapes as it has progressed through time and geography. So perhaps whatever way you imagine your Buddha is just fine as it is.

* This was also posted at americanbuddhist.blogspot.com a bit back, but I figured it has relevance amongst Progressive Buddhist folks, so here it is.

Is life a roller coaster ride?

I don't know what life is, but I do hope that quickly after death we will each find out.

An answer you can find in old movies [for example, "Heaven Can Wait" or "The Horn Blows at Midnight"] is that after life you are on a cloud, in a long line, waiting for Angel Gabriel to let you in His gate -- or not.

Another possiblity is that you are deleted. There is less than nothing after life; you are as much not around as the memory you don't have of yourself before you were born.

It can be that you pass through the Bardo, a spooky old place, dream-like and filled with potential terrors, on your way to a next birth, as a human or some other sentient being on this or some other planet or somewhere or somehow in some other universe that you could never imagine. And it can be, that your reborn self comes tagged with lessons that you need to learn from all your prior lives, bringing you pains and pleasures that you deserve.

Many of us Buddhists pull out text from some sutra and say that Buddha told us not to speculate on those things be cannot know. And what might happen to us after death is just the kind of time-wasting speculation he was talking about. But Buddha also told us to use our own judgment of what we should think or do, and I think that considering the possibilities of what death might mean is a good use of a modest chunk of our life's time.

My hope is that we find out that a life is just a crazy old roller coaster ride.

At the end of life, you find yourself in a roller coaster car, passing out of a dark tunnel. The track takes you up and down a few modest bumps, splashing through water, then your car is brought to a halt. You then remember before you were born when you embarked on the ride. And unless you had a remarkable life, in an instant you see how silly you were in life, misjudging what was important and what was unimportant.

Just as with rollercoasters in amusement parks throughout the world, there is no lesson to be learned from a ride, and you disembark at the same place where you got on. Life, it turns out, is just a stunning experience, playing with that magical substance Ignorance. We are all of us, really, this single great Cosmic Self, frozen with absolute knowledge of everything and thus incapable of laughter, love, terror or hope. It is only through Ignorance that Cosmic Self can have adventures and experience the myriad feelings that Ignorance make possible.

While life isn't a land of lessons, we do learn things about it: It turns out that chasing after money and status is not only life's biggest time waster, it is as destructive as living a life of crime. There is nothing that one can achieve by being well off financially and being respected by others. Indeed, by taking more than your share of earth's bounty and putting yourself above others, you add to the collective pool of misery. It is only from a deeply felt compassion for others, and having modest possessions, that a life is profoundly satisfying.

But life is not a lesson. And whether we live as a seriel killer or an ego-free saint, there are no rewards nor punishments to receive or endure after life's passing. There is only this: Certain knowledge about everything, and the opportunity to ride again.

Funny thing -- or, I should say, seriously, that it is not so funny a thing -- the Roller Coaster Theory does not pick up much religious support. I think the reason for this is that religions thrive when obedience to the religion is rewarded with prizes and benefits after death. The Twin Towers suicide terrorists each had twenty submissive virgins waiting for them after their murderous crashes. Good Christians have an eternity in Heaven. Well behaved Hindus and Buddhists have karmic rewards, which might include a next life graced with prosperity, health, and attractive physical features. And, of course, for Buddhists there is Paranirvana, an absolute end to all suffering.

The Roller Coaster Theory comes then with marketting problems. The afterlife of the major religions promise a Parential [usually, Fatherly] Approval, and with it, happiness and security. So, there is a reason for us to be Good; our life has meaning. Be Good to make the Great Cosmic Dad proud.

In the Roller Coaster Theory, you are not still a child -- one of God's children -- you are a grown up. And while dangers and terrors and random acts of violence are for the most part outside what you can control or influence, there is no one more in charge than you are. Your life can go wonderfully or horribly, despite your will, effort and talents; there is no guardian angel to guide or protect you. And so it is hard to feel that there is ultimately any meaning to being alive.

Why be good if there is no eventual reward? At the first level of understanding, it is because you can only really be good if there is no reward. At the second level of understanding -- which trumps the first, obliterating it -- we should be good for its own sake: Good for Goodness' sake. That's all. There's nothing else.

But what is Good? And what is Goodness' sake? There is no one outside yourself to tell you. As our heart/mind matures, the ideal of good becomes less treacly and rule-bound. We do the right thing outside the call of reasons for what feels like [and is] a growing abundance of wisdom and compassion.
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* This was also posted to Homeless Tom a bit back, but I figured it has relevance amongst Progressive Buddhist folks, so here it is.

Book Review: Living as a River

*For full disclosure I’ll mention that Bodhipaksa was my first meditation teacher, “way back in the day,” as they say (in the fall of 2000 in Missoula, MT). However, since he got his business degree and his website became wildly successful, he’s managed to avoid me well for quite some time and even waited for me to be safely in India before returning to Missoula on his recent book tour.

That said, his recent book, “Living As a River: Finding Fearlessness in the Face of Change,” is a marvelous piece of work. It is, in essence, a call to reflection for each of us, to reflect on our lives and our potential, and to reflect on the fact that we too often (nearly always) squander that potential by seeking happiness in all the wrong places.

The book unfolds as an offering (dāna). What is offered is an alternative to our unhappiness, our mere fleeting happiness, and our chasing of ever more happiness. The alternative is framed around the Buddhist Six Element Practice. But as Bodhipaksa says, this is not “a ‘Buddhist book.’” While the traditional Buddhist Six Element Practice forms the spine of the book, the heart is as fresh and modern as the many psychology experiments and quantum physics theories you will read about in its pages. It consists of fifteen chapters, plus an introduction, filled with philosophy, mythology, science, poetry, and the author’s own experiences, all winding a common path toward the destruction of our habitual, and false, idea that we have an unchanging self.

In fact “Living Like a River” begins with a psychology experiement in which a professor asked subjects to imagine the death of their partner. The result? The subjects, “reported feeling more positive about their relationships and less troubled by their significant others’ annoying quirks.” This makes the point that, more often than not, the things that we think will make us happy, do not – and the things that we think might make us unhappy – or be simply morbid, like imagining death – can actually improve our lives.

For the Buddhist, this can be an obvious fact. Most philosophers as well, East and West, have noted that human suffering is rooted in our incorrect understanding of ourselves and the world. But these days, neither Buddhist teachings nor philosophy have managed to penetrate deeply into the Western psyche. That is why Bodhipaksa’s use of psychology and other sciences so important. Science, especially the natural sciences such as physics, chemistry, and biology (all discussed in the book), has a special place in the minds of educated Westeners as the major, if not final, arbiter of truth. So if science can “catch up,” so to speak, with these important truths of the Buddha and certain other philosophers, there’s a chance that the rest of us also might get it.

And so the book marches forth, beginning at times with a bit of poetry, a story from Bodhipaksa’s life, or an interesting fact from recent scientific research, all woven together around the key insights first elucidated by the Buddha, Siddhartha Gautama, some 2500 years ago. The purpose of the book isn’t to be “about Buddhism” as the quote mentioned above makes clear. It is about a way of thinking, a way of seeing clearly (or cultivating “insight” as the Buddhist meditation vipassanā is commonly translated) ourselves and the world. For all readers, it should be a joyful jorney through a hand-picked series of scientific articles and discoveries, poetry, and anecdotes. It is lucidly written, and even consistently funny (a nice change of pace for some of us!).

As I re-skim it now to write this, I find quote after quote and story after story that I’d love to recount for their simple and direct teaching power. But alas, I’ll spare you all of that and just suggest you get the book yourself. You’ll be glad you did. (available at Soundstrue or Amazon)

Cross-posted at American Buddhist Perspective.

Sky

I’d forgotten about the sky. For how long, I’m not sure. Months? Years?

When I remembered, it felt like waking from a cramped dream.

A few weeks ago, early in the morning, I was running. The sun climbed bright in the east. The moon, chalk white, lapsed in the west. And I was running beneath them – on the ground, next to water, up a hill, and around a bend.

I had been worried, anxious, impatient. But, beneath this sky, I couldn’t remember what about. So I wiped my brow and leaned into the wind.

Tolstoy remembered this sky. Here’s Prince Andrei, in War and Peace, just struck on the head by one of Napoleon’s men:

“What is it? am I falling? are my legs giving way under me?” he thought, and fell on his back. He opened his eyes, hoping to see how the fight between the French and the artillerists ended, and wishing to know whether or not the red-haired artillerist had been killed, whether the cannon had been taken or saved. But he did not see anything. There was nothing over him now except the sky – the lofty sky, not clear, but still immeasurably lofty, with gray clouds slowly creeping across it.

“How quiet, calm, and solemn, not at all like when I was running,” thought Prince Andrei, “not like when we were running, shouting, and fighting; not at all like when the Frenchman and the artillerist, with angry and frightened faces, were pulling at the swab – it’s quite different the way clouds creep across this lofty, infinite sky.

“How is it I haven’t seen this lofty sky before? And how happy I am that I’ve finally come to know it. Yes! everything is empty, everything is a deception, except this infinite sky. There is nothing, nothing except that. But there is not even that, there is nothing except silence, tranquility. And thank God!” (281)

[Photo by Herman Bustamante]

The Grudge

I sit down. But it's hard to pay attention because I'm holding a grudge.

My heart is a block of ice. The world has refused to be what I thought I wanted. I'm not willing to forgive it. And so I'm freezing it out.

Every time I try to be mindful, my attention slips on the ice of this cardinal grudge and skids off into fantasy or memory.

To sit for minutes (or hours, or days) at a time, I have to forgive what is given for being what it is rather than what I thought I'd wanted. I have to forgive that white wall. Again and again and again, I must muster a spirit of pardon - a spirit of pardon that, in order to gain purchase, must also include absolution for my own block of ice.

Only a general amnesty can animate mindfulness.

Narcissism

One of the things I like best about Buddhism is that it has shown me how to do something useful with my narcissism.

Practice shows us how to bend the arc of our narcissism, how to press it beyond the stifling scope of self-concern and into the open air of deep and persistent awareness.

I'd assumed my vanity was just a problem to be solved. But I didn't see how the misguided compassion that animates it could be repurposed.

Enlightenment is narcissism extended.

Is today’s American Buddhism tribal and myopic?

My answer to the question that titles this article is a resounding YES, but I raise the issue, not to bury Caesar or castigate Brutus -- though I WILL get a castigating swat or two in before this blogpost is through, judgmental pundit that I am -- but to raise the discussion.

Buddhism isn’t about only those of us that claim the designation of Buddhist, but about the circumstance of everyone. It’s not as if we were all Hawai’ians and our discussions were about the archipelago where we live, and things narrowly pertaining to we’uns, the surfing, hotel management and telling tourists about what it's like living close to a volcano.

I submit that Buddhism is about suffering. And, I submit that suffering is universal, endured by all humans except a scant few with a vaulting pole in their head or in a far-advanced stage of dementia. And that suffering is a circumstance that waylays cows and dogs and squirrels from time-to-time and a thousand other species of our fellow traveller animals on this big blue whirling planet. Doesn’t our concern reach out to all of them?

Just as massive air pollution that emanates from here in the US affects the world, suffering all over the world HAS TO affect us, involve us and concern us. And yet, American Buddhists’ interests in the world [at least, when we see ourselves in the narrow category of “American Buddhist” is focused on Tibet, Burma, Sri Lanka, Thailand and other nations that have significant Buddhist populations. Why is this?

Is the circumstance of a Buddhist suffering of a different order of misery that we should favor it at getting our keen attention, as opposed to the misery of non-Buddhists? Basically, are we all here just to look after the tribe? Is our spiritual maturity that ill-advanced? In other words: Are we all just yahoos (in the Swiftian, not online, sense) on this freakin wayward bus we call earth?

“Our” magazines and some of the buddhoblogs that discuss issues of worldwide significance talk about Buddhism, as well they should and must, but not in the context of suffering soldiers In Afghanistan near Pakistan. Why is that? JUST because there are no Buddhists to frame the story?

Sebastian Junger wrote this tremendous book, WAR, that ventures far afield to a place where intensity and fear and courage are most extreme. Isn’t Buddhism there, no matter that self-proclaimed Buddhists aren’t? Shouldn’t the farthest places be within our reach -- from the heights of heaven to the pits of hell?

Must we go to India or Nepal to find Buddhism? Don’t you think the fount of Buddhism is already close by, and if we don’t know that it is close by and everywhere [and not especially so in those "special" places], haven’t we lost it?

Stop Screaming! Start Meditating.

Kids are freakin’ nuts these days!  Forgive me for being so blunt.  I’m sure that many of you have children that you love and adore, (or at least a couple of cute little cousins or something that you buy Christmas presents for) but come on, be honest; they’re a little crazy, right? 

WHY ARE KIDS INSANE?

From the moment they’re born, we bombard them with external stimulation.  We start by blasting Mozart (or Jay-Z) into their little ears as they’re lying in their cribs.  As soon as they’ve developed enough muscle in their tiny torsos to sit up by themselves, we plop them down in front of the television and assault their brand new brains with mindless atrocities like the Teletubbies.  Not long after we get them hooked on T.V, we introduce them to their first real DRUG:  Sugar.  We fill their baby bottles up with soda and pump their little stomachs full of High Fructose Corn Syrup.

Too Much Mountain Dew

As soon as they develop enough dexterity in their cute little fingers, we hand them a video game controller to teach them how to kill zombies.  Some kids spend six hours a day using their thumbs to shoot at innocent civilians and gore their way through screen after screen of rebel, Nazi soldiers.   Before long, they’ve got their own cell phone, an iPod, a Facebook account, and they’re staying up until 2 AM to watch the latest Saw movie. 

That’s not to mention all the medication we dole out to them in the name of good science.  Kids eat more Ritalin than they do fruit. 

Sounds grim, right? 

Ok, maybe I’m exaggerating a little bit… but not by much.  Check out this recent article (one among many) in the New York Times about how electronics are literally changing the physiology our brains: 

“Attached to Technology and Paying a Price”

Computer Addiction

Here’s a quote from a woman interviewed in this article talking about how her husband’s addiction to his computer has affected him:
 “It seems like he can no longer be fully in the moment.” 
Sounds kinda like ANTI-MINDFULNESS, doesn’t it? 

EDUCATION

I spend an average of twelve-hours-a-day with kids.  I teach middle school English.  Yep, Middle School.  You remember it, right?  Think back to that time when your (supposed) best friend went behind your back and told everyone about how you got your period while you were playing volleyball in gym class and then proceeded to launch a school-wide hate campaign against you, complete with pictures of your face decorated with giant Tampons sticking out from your ears and eye sockets…

Ringing any bells? 

It’s gotten pretty bad out there.  In fact, the entire education system in our country is basically in shambles.  Teachers aren’t teaching, school boards are pissing away what little money they have on everything EXCEPT what’s best for the students and politicians are running around like chickens with their heads cut off trying to figure out a way to test kids to see if they’re actually learning anything.  I’ve got news for you… most of them aren’t. 

Education Policy = Headless Chicken

For Christ’s sake, there are 12-year-olds committing suicide; hanging themselves in their closets, because they can’t handle the pressure of it all! 

Middle school is crazy.  I don’t know if it’s hormones, or if it’s because they’re just bored as hell, but middle school is kind of like a mini-mental institution.

I’ve taught school in settings ranging from conservative Catholic to urban ‘hoods in New York City.  Plus, I have a twelve year old.  (I’m 30.  Do the math.)  So, I kind-of know what I’m talking about here.  Maybe you think I sound “jaded” or “burnt out”?  Nah… I’m just realistic (and I have a morbid sense of humor). 

The really crazy thing is… I LOVE IT!  Middle school students offer the greatest challenge to teachers because of their unique position in life.  They’re “no longer children” but “not quite adult yet”.  Consequently, I believe they offer the greatest sense of fulfillment and reward to those of use willing to brave the trenches. 

KIDS NEED (BUDDHA’S?) HELP

Over on my blog, “Buddhism Sucks”, I’m doing a series of posts on meditation.  Specifically, I’m trying to deconstruct the watered down, heavily commercialized cult of “American Buddhism” in an effort to extract the legitimate, practical instructions on meditation that so many of us desperately need in our lives. 

American kids are suffering. 

She's not getting a good education.  Plus, no shirt. 

Yeah, I said it… S-U-F-F-E-R-I-N-G!  You know, DUKKHA; that overused, played out Buddhist tenet that pops up in every single time you even hear the word Buddhism.  It’s scrawled on every page in every single book and talked about by every single Buddhist “teacher” on the face of the earth.  Sometimes I think we’re so obsessed with the idea of suffering that we’re adding a whole new sadomasochistic dimension to Buddha’s teachings.  Not that suffering isn’t key; it is, but PLEASE STOP CRAMMING IT DOWN MY EVER-LOVIN’ THROAT! 

Or at least give me a chance to swallow before you offer me another bite! 

Plus if we’re so concerned with suffering, let’s open our eyes to the fact that there’s a whole world of underrepresented “sentient beings” out there who are feeling it too!  What’s worse for kids though, is that they’re totally unaware that they are suffering.  They’re too busy texting (or sexting) to notice! 

Whoever’s CEO of the corporation called American Buddhism needs to sit down with his marketing team and switch focus groups from white, upper-middle class professionals and direct some attention to the kids wallowing in our educational system.   

If there’s anyone out there who benefit from a down-to-earth approach to meditation, it’s kids.  In addition to being used as a strategy for dealing with the stresses in their lives, meditation could possibly be the key to reshaping the whole educational system in our country.  I believe that the development of a focused meditation practice within the classroom could be just the thing we need to reshape school culture and create a climate of calm where students from every background would benefit. 

My intention in writing for Progressive Buddhism is that maybe someone out there could use some of the insights I can offer into teaching/practicing meditation with kids.  In the short time I’ve been practicing, I’ve seen enormous benefits both in and out of the classroom.  Conceptually, it’s such a simple practice, but when done correctly and with regularity, I believe it to be enormously transformative. 

15 MINUTES OF MEDITATION IS WORTH 15 MILIGRAMS OF ADDERALL

Many students have such short attention spans because we’ve developed a society conditioned to INSTANT GRATIFICATION.  This is particularly true when it comes to kids.  They can’t even sit still for longer than five minutes without seeing something explode or a really nice set of tits.  Forget about sitting alone to read a book cover to cover; that’s a joke.  (Unless, of course, there’s a book out there that’s ABOUT exploding tits, that is.)

Explosions

+ tits = Fun!

Kids begin their day in America’s classrooms carrying more baggage than ever before:

·       Attention Deficit Disorder (ADD) and Attention Deficit Hyperactive Disorder (ADHD)

·       Absent father figure/positive male role model

·       Poverty (Especially in light of the current economic situation)

·       Emotional Disturbance (ED)

·       Physical abuse

·       English as a second language (ESL + ELL)

·       The Achievement Gap

This is by no means an exhaustive list, but a taste of the obstacles that many children need to overcome just to receive a decent education in one of our schools.  I didn’t even bother to mention the special needs that many students require in terms of additional educational services (SPED). 

In addition, many of my students don’t eat healthy meals, they don’t have a clean place to do their homework, and they are exposed to sexuality WAY before they’re ready.  What’s worse is that even if they WERE able to transcend these setbacks, many of them aren’t even able to receive a good education because the school they’re attending DOESN’T OFFER ONE! 

What about the kids that do “well” in school?  Those are the ones who are so stressed out and anxious about getting good grades that they’re crippled by the pressure.  Ever heard of Stuyvesant High School in Manhattan?

Read It’s a Funny Kind of Story by Ned Vizzini

Ok, so we can’t really shove Buddhism down their throats.  That would violate their Constitutional right to an education free from religion.  (Not that I’m even advocating that…)

BUT WE CAN TEACH THEM HOW TO MEDITATE!

I started teaching meditation a few years ago to a group of 8^th grade students at a private, Catholic school in Brooklyn in response to what I saw as a detrimental attitude from other the other teachers I was working with.  I was relatively new to the profession and had never worked in an urban environment before.  The shock of seeing grown men and women treat their students with callous disrespect sickened me.  As a direct result from this treatment, the students reacted with extreme recklessness and a total disregard for their education. 

The "Penguin" can't teach you how to meditate!

Their poor behavior was impacting their education in a negative way and I was uneasy about sending them off to high school without a method for taking responsibility for themselves and coping with life’s stresses.  I felt it was my duty as their teacher to prepare them to be independent, confident young men and women that could interact with their environment in a positive way. 

Although I’d had several years of personal experience with meditation, I’d never worked with kids in this capacity.  Trust me, managing a room full of 32-hormone-filled-teenagers is quite a challenge and doesn’t come without a headache.  But being a person who hated school himself (left high school at 16), I was appalled by the way in which these “experienced” teachers related to their students.  Yelling is not an effective way to deal with teenagers.  I thought meditation would be better. 

I began a program of non-religious, guided meditation, based on what I learned from my Tibetan teachers and practiced myself.  The results were almost immediate.  Behavior improved overnight and the classroom climate became calm and peaceful for the most part.  Not only did I train my students to use meditation as a coping method, but I believe that many of them began to see their practice as an efficient way to deepen their understanding of themselves and escape the drudgery of an overbearing school environment. 

Since then, I’ve gone on to use similar techniques with success in other classrooms.  Below you will find a general presentation of the methods I’ve used.  I hope you find them useful and encouraging.   

MEDITATION DOESN’T HAVE TO BE CONFUSING

Part of the problem with Buddhism in America is that there are so many different traditions, subject to unlimited interpretation.  This diversity can be confusing to navigate and frustrating to a newcomer.  What’s more is that there are so many people out there “teaching” meditation or writing books on the subject who are just relaying traditional Asian instructions that they don’t fully understand themselves.  The result much of the time is that many explanations of how to DO meditation are either very dull and dry, or they are so vague and mystical that they are impossible to practice.  

Watch out for this guy!

Meditation is VERY simple to understand conceptually.  Although it can be a difficult thing to integrate as a concrete practice into every day life, there is no need to surround it with a mystical, other-worldly hype that removes the practicality from it’s instruction. 

These methods are very simple, practical, and down to earth.  Anyone can do it.  You don’t need to be Buddhist or even particularly spiritual.  After all, meditation is foremost a method for self-examination and metaphysical analysis. 

First, a couple of rules:

1.     There is no STEADFAST method for practicing meditation.  There are many ways, as are there many kinds of people.

2.     Meditation is an individual activity.  Just like painting or learning to play an instrument, you can take a class or read about it, but you have to do some work and experimentation on your own to find your own way. 

3.     You have to practice it regularly to see any results.  It’s like working out. 

OK KIDS, LET’S MEDITATE!

When I first introduce the subject of meditation to my students, I like to start by initiating a short, simple discussion.  We talk about our pre-conceived notions about meditation and I try to lead them away from thinking about it as a “cool”, “trendy” thing and to understand it as a method for increasing concentration and relaxation within themselves.  We discuss how meditation is a method for spending time alone with your mind in order to understand it better and use it to its fullest potential.  I tell them that one of the coolest side-effects from practicing meditation is a feeling of ease or calm that would help them get through their day at school. 

Since I’m teaching in a non-religious environment, I don’t inject discussion of any traditional “Buddhist” topics such as karma or reincarnation, though if they come up on their own, I try to demystify them and shelve them as topics for a later discussion. 

Also, being that meditation is a very new experience for them, I limit the majority of my instruction to samantha techniques rather than vipassana.  For a discussion of the difference between these two “forms” of meditation, please read my blog (http://buddhismsucks.blogspot.com) as there is an ongoing discussion happening over there.  (Shameless self-promotion, I know.)  Plus, since my students primarily need a way to harness their energy and develop their concentration skills to perform well in school, I believe that samantha is particularly applicable. 

POSTURE

I’m not going to get into a lengthy discussion about what’s the “best” posture to use when meditating.  Some people are so addicted to the Asian method of sitting on the floor, propped up on an expensive PILLOW that the posture actually becomes an obstacle rather than an aid to meditation.  

This is WAAAY too expensive!

The whole point is that you want to “sit” in a position where the body doesn’t distract you from the work you’re doing with your mind.  If it means that you’re standing on your head with your legs twisted behind your neck, fine - whatever floats your boat.  It really doesn’t matter if you look all cool and Buddha-like or not. 

For my students, since I’m usually working with 25-30 kids at once, I just instruct them as they’re sitting in their desks.  The basic principles are the same:  back straight, hands folded, and feet flat.  Relaxed, yet alert.  If you’re at all familiar with Buddhist meditation, you know the drill. 

SETTING THE TONE

I’ve trained my class using a bell technique.  Rather than have a set time to meditate, I just choose a point in our busy schedule when I feel they “need” meditation time and I ring the bell once and they know to immediately get into position.  It took a few weeks to train them to get to this point.  Have patience!

Once they’re all sitting properly, I ring the bell again to signal the start of a simple deep breathing exercise to set the tone.  Together, we all take five deep breaths in unison.  It’s very simple, but highly effective in getting a room full of middle-schoolers to feel centered and calm.  Long, slow breaths – in through the nose and out through the mouth – taking in as much air as possible and then expelling it.  In this controlled exercise, it makes the students feel as if they’re starting a serious endeavor. 

There are many different ways to do this.  Just do what feels natural. 

Once this deep breathing exercise is complete and everyone appears focused, we move on to samantha.

WATCHING THE BREATH

At this stage in the process, my students return their breathing to normal.  In earlier classes at the beginning of the year, I’ve trained them to watch their breath by focusing their attention on the small area near the nostrils where they can feel the movement of air into and out of their bodies.  Although there are many variations on samantha breathing meditation, I find it helpful to choose an object that is simple, but very specific.  The subtle sensation of the movement of air felt on the tip of the nose is the perfect object for my students.  They’re clear about what they should be doing and they can wrap their minds around the concept.  Easy. 

Usually, I allow them to watch the breath in this way for about 3-5 minutes.  Sometimes, I provide gentle guidance to them if I feel that they are having trouble staying focused.  I say things like: 

·       Stay focused on your breathing

·       Feel the air coming into your body and keeping you alive

·       If you feel yourself getting distracted by your thoughts, gently remind yourself that you’re breathing right now

Again – just say what feels natural.  The point is to remind them of what they’re doing.  I can usually tell if they’re having trouble staying focused by watching their posture.  If some students start fidgeting of shifting around in their seats, I know that their attention is wavering.  I try to use a gentle, yet authoritarian tone to guide their focus.  On average, I’d say that 90-95% of the students are able to watch their breathing for the entire time period. 

The whole process is very simple and usually takes no longer than 8-10 minutes.  Although it seems like a short amount of time, I find that when introduced into the daily schedule, it gives my students a much-appreciated break and a chance to connect with themselves in a way that they don’t normally get. 

From time to time, I increase the amount of time we spend in samantha, depending on the climate of the room.  If they appear to be focused and we have the time, I let them go longer. 

I ring the bell a third time to indicate that the meditation period is over and we go immediately back to work.  Sometimes, I’ll allow students to contribute comments on their experience.  It all depends on what feels natural in the moment. 

See - very simple and VERY effective.  Nothing weird, mystical, or even particularly “Buddhist” here.  Just a straightforward method for increasing concentration and awareness that consequently can impact student performance. 

VARIATIONS

From time to time, I like to vary our meditation time with some guided practices.  For instance, when I feel like the students are having a bad day or that the energy in the room is kind of negative, I try a purification visualization with them.  If there have been some conflicts among the students, I’ll have them do a modified tonglen meditation, focusing on developing feelings of compassion within themselves.

If there is any interest in instructions for these practices, please let me know and I’d be happy to do another post. 

No matter what flavor of meditation they are practicing, I find that my students are wholly more focused, calm, and attentive throughout the school day and it gives me a good feeling when I’m standing in the front of the classroom teaching them.  The climate of the environment in my classroom is calm and ordered and I find that communication between myself and my students is greatly enhanced. 

DON’T GET BOGGED DOWN IN THE BUDDHISM

Meditation isn’t an exotic practice.  It’s supposed to be practical and simple.  Don’t worry if you’re not being Buddhist enough!

Scale

I want to hew close to the bone of life. I want to press myself right up against the grain of its pulse. I want to tongue life's live nerve.

This business is fine-grained. It's going to require a shift in scale. I'm going to have stop living life in chunks of weeks and months, even in terms of hours and days. This is too far from the action, six steps too removed. I'm going to have to live life at the scale of minutes and seconds - at the scale of fractions of seconds if I'm able.

I'm going to have to practice. This is hard to do. I'm going to have bring myself back - again, again, again - to that which is so common, so ordinary, so insignificant as to flit by at life's own breakneck pace. I'm going to have to practice a finely-grained humility that is so modest as to register whatever is given at however small a scale as worth my attention.

The modesty of the scale is hard to swallow. I had bigger plans in mind for myself. I was going to be a contender.

A breath? Really? An itch in my big toe? Really? A breeze tickling the rim of my ear? A brush of a kiss from wife's chapped lip?

Why not? What was I hoping for?

Try the modesty of pressing your full attention into the pressure and resistance of a single deep breath. The whole thing is right here, presented in flagrante, on a manageable scale.

Hope and despair? Cupped in ignorance (or mystery, if you'd prefer), the whole drama unfolds with transparent subtlety on the scale of seconds. Hours, days, years, are hard to get your head around. But seconds . . . Here, the breath ebbs and flows. Hope is inhaled. You're getting what you hoped for, you're getting what you hoped for, you're getting what you hoped for . . . full. Despair is exhaled, exhaled, exhaled. Before your lungs are empty you know you'll have to start again.

Hope and despair do what they do. They come and they go. They ebb and they flow. They rise and they fall. See it on the scale of seconds. See their most ordinary face. Hope and despair on the scale of hours and days and years is just more of the same. But now you've seen what they are. How they work. How they come and go.

Don't be done with either of them. Let them do what they do. Rest in them. Rest in their push and pull, and something else will happen: a great peace and compassion will arise. A tenderness and sensitivity enabled by immense modesty will take hold.

Looking on the drama of hope/despair/ignorance - a drama available in microcosm in each moment - I can look with compassion on how the whole thing plays out, on how the same drama repeats itself in my hours, weeks, and years. I can look with compassion on my vanity, my weakness, my fear and, without excusing or fleeing them, name them for what they are and watch, then, as their grip loosens. They just are what they are: ordinary. I don't need to worry. The worry, spacing me from life, is what wrings the life out of life's passing.

Change scale. You're trying to work with an out-sized canvas. It feels like you can't manage a project on such a scale because you can't.

The meek shall inherit the earth.