This is episode is the fifth and final installment – at least for now – of the story of my spiritual journey. I share a few more of what I call “enlightenments” – pivotal and personal insights I experienced along the path of practice that ultimately helped me find what I was looking for from the beginning.
This episode is the story of my spiritual journey, part 4. I start sharing a series of what I’m calling “enlightenments” I experienced over the course of the first ten years or so of my monastic training. These “enlightenments” were transformational insights that allowed me, slowly but surely, to find the happiness and peace of mind I was searching for.
It’s not unusual for our practice to languish at times. “Languish” means to be or become weak or feeble, to lose vigor or vitality, to be subjected to neglect or prolonged inactivity. How do we recognize when our practice is languishing and revitalize it, without falling into the dualistic trap of striving? How do we avoid the trap of striving without then falling into the opposite trap of complacency?
Buddhism is a path of renunciation. Many people assume this means we aim to separate ourselves from the things and beings of the world and work ourselves into a state where we no longer care about them – at least not to the point where it might hurt or upset us. Fortunately, this assumption couldn’t be further from the truth. Renunciation leaves us much more capable of sincere and open-handed love.
Sometimes there is no avoiding painful situations, whether the difficulty is arising in our own life or from witnessing suffering in the world around us. How can we respond to troubling conditions with generosity and compassion, but also without being overwhelmed? I discuss the Zen approach of being with the reality of situations – neither avoiding the pain, nor identifying with it.
When we contemplate the future, it may seem like we have only two options: dread, or hope. If we can’t summon hope, we may avoid thinking about the future at all in order to escape dread. Fortunately, the Buddhist Middle Way offers an alternative. Instead of getting stuck in dread or clinging desperately to hope, we refuse to get caught in either extreme. We can walk a dynamic path of practice, facing the future with eyes open while remaining responsive and free.
The gift of self – such as our time, attention, energy, enthusiasm, perspective, sympathy, and creativity brightens the lives of everyone around us. Although the self is “empty” of inherent, enduring self-essence, it is all we have to offer the world. Unfortunately, many of us are very inhibited when it comes to sharing ourselves. We fear rejection, judgment, disinterest, and embarrassment. We figure no one particularly appreciates or needs our contribution. Fortunately, we can make a practice of offering ourselves open-handedly, setting aside the need for affirmation as we do so.
Sesshin – a silent, residential, Zen meditation retreat involving a 24-hour communal schedule – is an extremely valuable way to deepen your Zen practice. I discuss why I strongly encourage you to participate in sesshin, but also why – if you can’t do so – it isn’t necessary. Then I talk about several of the benefits and Dharma lessons of sesshin. I have many more such benefits and lessons to share, but I’ll cover them in Celebration of Sesshin Part 2.
When our country – or our global community – is broken, how do we practice? Faced with incomprehensible violence, injustice, lies, greed, and destruction, how do we cope, let alone respond in accord with our bodhisattva vows to help free all beings and end all delusions? Our first responses are usually anger, fear, judgment, and an effort to assign blame. Then may come a desire to check out – to ignore what’s happening because we feel powerless to do anything about it. I discuss how our Buddhist practice can help us remain open, strong, and responsive.
The annual Buddhist ceremony of “feeding the hungry ghosts,” or Sejiki, offers rich mythological imagery as a teaching. Metaphorically, a “ghost” is anything painful or difficult which continues to haunt the present although its causes lie in the past. Sejiki and its surrounding mythology encourages us to make peace with our ghosts: We acknowledge them, set appropriate boundaries, make an offering, and hope that, over time, the ghosts will be able to partake of some healing and liberating Dharma.
