Category: Lay practice

  • The Art of Lay Life 5: Rejecting Elements

    Uposatha Day Essay for the First Quarter Moon (Index to Series)

    We began the Art of Lay Life by Selecting Elements, prioritizing our values and obligations with particular attention to their costs alongside their appeal. I have appealed primarily to the reader’s own values in selecting what is most important. I have hopefully, however given you two nudges. The first is to be more deliberate, to examine more carefully the appeals and implications. The second is to begin to simplify, to be even more selective in Selecting Elements. Just a final word for simplicity: When we clutter our lives, we tend to clutters our mind. Also a cluttered life leaves little space for Buddhist practice, just as a cluttered workshop will hamper your ability to tinker together a bird house. Finally, if we think of Buddhist practice as a process of removing problems, that is, eliminating the conditions that bring suffering, and we consider that there are problems associated with ever element we bring into our lives, then getting rid of the clutter takes us a long was along the path of Buddhist practice all by itself. We will return to the theme of simplicity at the final step in the Art of Lay Life.

    The second step in the Art of Lay Life is Rejecting Elements, shedding elements whose cost is too great, whose retention is inimical to Buddhist practice, which have no place in a Buddhist life. Here I will rely more on the wisdom of the Buddha, who gave some very clear advice on this. However, like Selecting, Rejecting is your choice and it also may require deliberation and examination before you have confidence in his advice. Also life’s circumstances might mean making compromises as you consider this advice..

    Some of the clearest advice comes from Precepts. If there is an element in your life that entails violation of one or more of the standard precepts, it is problematic, especially if it entails habitual violation. The most standard set of precepts are the Pancasila, the Five Precepts:

    Not to kill.
    Not to take what is not freely given.
    Not to misuse sexuality.
    Not to tell falsehoods.
    Not to consume intoxicants that cause heedlessness.

    I give to my students the Eight Lifetime Precepts which includes three additional precepts regarding speech that I find are particularly problematic for Americans:

    Not to speak maliciously.
    Not to speak harshly.
    Not to speak idly.

    The Eight Lifetime Precepts also make reference to Right Livelihood, which we will consider in moment.

    Now, the precepts are rules of thumb that approximate Virtue. There are two reasons why Buddhists follow the precepts. First, they are very effective in avoiding harm to others as pointers to where people have gotten themselves into trouble repeatedly for untold ages. Second, and more significantly in Buddhist ethics, they aid in the protection and development of the mind, moving it karmically toward and not away from the perfection of character in its three aspects of virtue, serenity and wisdom. These two reasons are closely related, since avoiding harm to others is a large part of virtue. The precepts should be fundamental to any Buddhist practice right from the beginning. However, they themselves often require a development of understanding before they are embraced whole-heartedly. For instance, many Westerners are used to consuming alcohol in moderation as a pleasant cultural habit and think of it as rather harmless. However as your practice deepens and you work with the mind at a very subtle level you begin to realize the important role of this precept in protecting the mind.

    Now, the precepts can, all things being equal, be integrated into the the lay life without problem. If a bug annoys you, instead of squishing it put it outside. It your neighbor’s spouse is attractive, don’t try to seduce him or her. If someone expresses an opinion you disagree with in an on-line discussion, don’t flame. Just don’t do it.

    However where the precepts present particular difficulties for the Lay Life is when some element of your life requires you to violate a precept over and over again. This is particularly likely in your choice of livelihood. For instance, if you work in a slaughterhouse you may be required to kill cows or chickens ’til, uh, the cows come home. This raises two important questions: If your livelihood requires that you kill, (1) are you really harming others and (2) do you suffer karmic consequences, that is, does it impair the well-being and development of your mind. After all, the killing is your boss’s decision, and if you were not there to act out his orders, wouldn’t someone else be called on to do so instead? Doesn’t this leave you off the hook?

    The Buddhist answer is much like the decision of the Nuremberg Trial: You are not off the hook, orders are not just orders, you are the heir of your own deeds . It is a bit hard to argue on the basis of non-harming if the harm is done anyway by your coworker if not you, but it can be clearly observed that you suffer the karmic consequences. You can observe the long-term effects with regard to your own character, how you become desensitized to killing, how your feeling of well-being degrades, even how your sleep is disturbed. Studies of executioners, for example, people whose analogous task it is to carry out the death penalty in American prisons, reveal horrible long-term effects on mental health. Life becomes a living hell by the time they retire, even if they are sincere supporters of the death penalty and feel in their heart that they are providing a necessary public service. In the following interchange the Buddha makes a similar and explicit observation:

    Yodhajiva: “Lord, I have heard that it has been passed down by the ancient teaching lineage of warriors that ‘When a warrior strives & exerts himself in battle, if others then strike him down & slay him while he is striving & exerting himself in battle, then with the breakup of the body, after death, he is reborn in the company of devas slain in battle.’ What does the Blessed One have to say about that?”

    Buddha: “When a warrior strives and exerts himself in battle, his mind is already seized, debased, & misdirected by the thought: ‘May these beings be struck down or slaughtered or annihilated or destroyed. May they not exist.’ If others then strike him down and slay him while he is thus striving and exerting himself in battle, then with the breakup of the body, after death, he is reborn in the hell called the realm of those slain in battle.”
    SN 42.3

    This explains why Right Livelihood is important enough to occupy a whole step on the Noble Eightfold Path. The standard recommendation of Right Livelihood is as follows:

    A lay follower should not engage in five types of business. Which five? Business in weapons, business in human beings, business in meat, business in intoxicants, and business in poison. – AN5.177

    Notice that here three of the five wrong livelihoods have to do with killing. We could say that both a warrior (soldier) or an executioner deals in weapons. A slaughterhouse employee or a butcher deals in meat. A pesticide salesman or manufacturer deals in poison. Business in human beings refers to the slave or prostitution trade (think of Robert de Niro in The Mission for a good psychological profile). It should be observed that in general enabling or encouraging someone else to break a precept is regarded in Buddhism as a slightly lesser version of personally breaking the precept. So, providing intoxicants or poisons to others indirectly violates the precept against consuming intoxicants that create heedlessness or killing respectively. Business in weapons can similarly include arms dealing or forging of swords, also presumably writing software for missile guidance systems.

    This list is not complete, of course. Elsewhere the Buddha states:

    And what, monks, is wrong mode of livelihood? Trickery, cajolery, insinuating, dissembling, rapacity for gain upon gain.

    This would characterize much of modern business practice and involves habitual wrong speech and taking what is not given. The important thing is to know your mind, become intimate with your mind, understand its moods and leanings and its responses to various influences. How does your mind feel at the end of the day? For instance, in a recent documentary on the health insurance industry in America a woman was interviewed whose job is was to assess applications for private policies in terms of existing conditions and she would frequently have to inform people that they do not qualify, that they, who are most in need of insurance, are uninsurable. She was visibly upset, almost in tears, when she reported this, the she added, “When someone comes in, I don’t want to be friendly, I don’t want to know them, I try just to look at their application.” Now imagine how that will bend her character over five, ten, fifteen, twenty years! Her livelihood does not fall under any of the above, yet it plainly is taking a karmic toll on her. That is what makes it Wrong Livelihood.

    For the reader, I think it is important to look frankly at your livelihood. Maybe you are off the hook, but in this day and age Right Livelihood is probably the exception. I used to write software sometimes under Defense Department contracts, including for a project in missile guidance. It ended up being a major factor in why I now do what I do. In complex modern times you have many more reasons for Ejecting certain Elements from the lay life, such as extremely high levels of workplace stress, or mindless zoning out in front of the T.V. (sometimes the two go together). Next week I want to try to wind the Buddha’s concerns forward to the Twenty-First Century.

  • The Art of Lay Life 4: Selecting Elements (cont.)

    Uposatha Day Teaching (Index to Series)

    Your life is based on a long history of lifestyle decisions of your own making. Some of these decisions are to include something because something appeals to you, some of these are to include elements out of obligation. This is the pull and push of decision making. If you are like most people you made these decisions with very little reflection.

    Last week I began discussing the “Selecting Elements” step, the first step in the Art of Lay Life (the steps are Select – Reject – Balance – Simplify). You’ve already done this step probably with poor results; this is a good time to revisit the Select Step with more reflection and with the wisdom gained through the experience of having lived with your decisions. I suggested that you prioritize the elements of your life, to try to discover which are non-negotiable and which are rather frivolous. Selecting Elements should be something you revisit over an over throughout your life, as you develop more insight in conjunction with your Buddhist practice; this is much more valuable than worrying about your investment portfolio, for instance, for living optimally.

    I want this week to add another dimension to the considerations behind Selecting Elements. When we think we are bringing in one element (“Ice cream. I like ice cream. I’m going to put that down as an essential element of my lifestyle.”) we are actually bringing in a mass of incidental, causally implicated elements at the same time (“How’d I get so Chubby?!?!).

    Incidental Elements. “Because this arises that arises.” This is the Buddhist principle of Dependent Origination, which the Buddha introduced to help us understand Samsara, how we get so stuck in life. We know it particularly in the twelvefold sequence that has

    Contact → feeling → desire → craving → becoming

    in the middle. A less known variant (from DN 15) touching on social issues also goes

    Craving → seeking → acquisition → decision making → lustful desire → attachment → appropriation → avarice → guarding of possessions → taking up sticks and swords, quarrels, disputes, arguments, strife, abuse, lying, etc.

    A modern variant might run,

    Stress → Watching T.V. → Seeing commercial → craving → buying → debt → work

    Although these lists traditionally are presented as linear sequences, it is clear that they actually trace lines through what is actually a complex network of causality in which each arising phenomenon has many conditions and conditions many arising phenomena. “Craving,” for instance, show up in all three sequences above. The point is when you bring one thing into your life, even if it is a simple thought, you generally bring a mass of consequences into your life as well. Sometimes these spin off into vicious circles, like

    anger → violence → vengeance → anger → violence → …

    Studying such causal relations is the primary part of studying samsara. This is why the Buddha taught Dependent Origination.

    In the unexamined life we inevitably get unwittingly pulled into this tangled mass of thorns, creepers and snarl, and wonder why life is so difficult. It is critical in Selecting Elements to consider all of the incidental elements in your life that you wish were not there, at least not in their present forms, yet have been brought in to sustain things you feel you need in your life:

    • Job, oppressive working conditions, boss from hell
    • Car, long commutes, breakdowns, providing free chauffeur service to family
    • Insecurity, suspicion, insurance, maintaining stuff
    • Debt, bills, overdrafts, plunging markets
    • Competition, undermining others, retaliation, malicious speech
    • Anger, hatred, dishonesty
    • Stress, anxiety, busy-ness, worry, panic, high blood pressure, heart disease, ulcers, back aches

    The Select step of the Art of Lay Life is to rationalize your life to the extent that you at least know what a pickle you’ve gotten yourself into, then to decide what is really important to you on that basis. This will probably inspire you to prune away at this mass of thorns and creepers to what is really essential, to what you really really value, and for what you are willing to incur the incidental costs for. What is left may or may not have Buddhist roots, but they will be yours.

    Of course incidental elements can just as well be desirable, and maybe unexpected at the same time. You might take up a sport like birdwatching because of the challenge or even the competitive element of spotting more birds than Fred, but discover an unexpected serenity and joy at the end of every outing. We all begin with some fundamental values that we would all like in our lives, such as Health, Preserving this Life and Happiness, and perhaps even Being Good, that is, being of net benefit rather than harm to others. Without understanding causal links you will not know specifically what to bring into your life to realize these things; the most fundamental things are incidentals. If you are like most people you don’t even have much of an idea of what Happiness is or how to recognize it. Buddhist practice can help. If you are like most people you probably have brought in a lot of elements that are even detrimental to these most fundamental values, often neglecting one while you vainly pursue another. Consider smoking, for instance.

    In sum, Become a Student of Samsara, and be ready to adjust your lifestyle to accord with what you discover! If you get serious about this you will probably start making a lot of changes in the grosser elements for the better in the short terms as you become quickly disenchanted with much you now thing is important through tallying up the most obvious incidental emotional, financial and other costs of the elements of your life. Then these changes will become more gradual as your understanding becomes more subtle.

    This study of Samsara for the serious student of Buddhism will deal for the most part with very subtle emotive and cognitive elements taught in detail by the Buddha and his disciples. Dependent Origination even leads to a very refined understanding of existence, and what the self might be. Nagarjuna, the Second Century philosopher-monk, wrote, “Emptiness is Dependent Origination,” and the Buddha said, “To understand Dependent Origination is to understand the Dharma.” The lifestyle elements we are dealing with here are the visible and much grosser manifestations of, and influences on, human thought. Tractable, but still a challenge to sort out.

    The human mind has not changed since the time of the Buddha so much as human artifacts, institutions and conventions . Many common elements of modern lives did not ever remotely exist during the time of the Buddha; things like credit cards, television commercials, cheerleaders, extended warranties and traffic tickets probably would have puzzled even Shariputra. I find that an invaluable source of wisdom on negotiating modern life, one that has put this network of conditionality in a proper perspective for modern life is the Voluntary Simplicity movement. It is not Buddhist in origin, but is nonetheless similarly concerned with understanding the causes of conditions at work in trying to realize our most fundamental values, and has a similar willingness to look outside the box. A book I have at hand is Your Money or Your Life, which focuses on simplifying your financial life in order to have more free time and a better sense of contentment. There is not much in there I can use as a monk, but I can report I regret not having followed their advice more closely as a layman. You can google Voluntary Simplicity and probably come up with a lot of current thinking on-line.

    I’ll return to some of these themes with the Simplifying Elements step in the Art of Lay Life. But next week I will take up Rejecting Elements, those things which Buddhism has been pretty clear about having ideally no place in the Buddhist life, even if they have a certain appeal.

  • The Art of Lay Life 3: Selecting Elements

    Last Quarter Moon, July 23 (Index to Series)

    As for the qualities of which you may know, ‘These qualities lead to dispassion, not to passion; to being unfettered, not to being fettered; to shedding, not to accumulating; to modesty, not to self-aggrandizement; to contentment, not to discontent; to seclusion, not to entanglement; to aroused persistence, not to laziness; to being unburdensome, not to being burdensome’: You may categorically hold, ‘This is the Dhamma, this is the Discipline, this is the Teacher’s instruction. – the Buddha to Mahapajapati, AN 8.53

    If you are like most people your life is a bit busier than you would like: You are passionate, fettered; you have a lot of Stuff, try to be important, are restless, entangled, a bit lazy and possibly a bit of a pain. And since you are reading this essay, you are probably also trying, or intend to try, to fit in a Buddhist practice to top it off.

    It should be clear that some pruning is called for if adequate time and energy for Buddhist practice is to be available, both to give space for Buddhist practice and in itself for the very piece of mind that Buddhist practice also encourages. Unfortunately many Buddhist practitioners fail to do much pruning if any, but just add a meditation practice or morning chanting to the top of everything else they do in their frantic lives. This is a mistake: First, it leads to more stress as your life becomes even more cluttered, and, second, it is likely to make your life more fragmented since much of the clutter of your lives is most likely inimical to Buddhist practice. The key word is “Simplify.”

    Now monastics are people who go off the deep end over this issue and simply dump the whole mass of entanglement. Lay people are those who need to be more selective, and this is the topic of today’s and next week’s essay. I strongly urge all lay people take this step very seriously. I think someone wise once said, “An unexamined life is not worth living.” Selecting elements to include in our lives is the first step of this examination. What elements of your life are really essential to you? What obligations do you need to keep? What options are there for clearing up the grosser vexations that seem to impinge on your life? In short, how do you want to live your life with Buddhist practice as a prominent element? These choices are up to you and every person will make them differently, even monastics who invariably manage to cling to something. (In my case it is coffee. Oh, and I like to keep in touch with my aging parents and three grown children occasionally.) This is not a one-time task but one that should be visited again and again throughout your practice career. As your practice develops you will find a desire to shed more and more.

    Your life is a combination of things you have included because they are important to you, of obligations that you have inherited or that carry over from past decisions and of many many things that though not necessarily desirable to you in themselves are there to support or simply are entailed by the other things you have included in your life. Studying Samsara is a major part of developing Buddhist wisdom. However, most people can begin by making quick progress right away because with bare consideration a lot of things will simply defy rational justification for inclusion in any life. Let’s begin with what should be easy to justify.

    Buddhist Elements. Let’s start with the Buddhist values which might be included in the Lay Life.

    “Four conditions, Vyagghapajja, conduce to a householder’s weal and happiness in his future life [that is, spiritual rather than material progress]. Which four?

    “The accomplishment of faith (saddha-sampada), the accomplishment of virtue (sila-sampada), the accomplishment of charity (caga-sampada) and the accomplishment of wisdom (pañña-sampada).

    “What is the accomplishment of faith?

    “Herein a householder is possessed of faith, he believes in the Enlightenment of the Perfect One (Tathagata): Thus, indeed, is that Blessed One: he is the pure one, fully enlightened, endowed with knowledge and conduct, well-gone, the knower of worlds, the incomparable leader of men to be tamed, the teacher of gods and men, all-knowing and blessed. This is called the accomplishment of faith.

    “What is the accomplishment of virtue?

    “Herein a householder abstains from killing, stealing, sexual misconduct, lying, and from intoxicants that cause infatuation and heedlessness. This is called the accomplishment of virtue.

    “What is the accomplishment of charity?

    “Herein a householder dwells at home with heart free from the stain of avarice, devoted to charity, open-handed, delighting in generosity, attending to the needy, delighting in the distribution of alms. This is called the accomplishment of charity.

    “What is the accomplishment of wisdom?

    “Herein a householder is wise: he is endowed with wisdom that understands the arising and cessation (of the five aggregates of existence); he is possessed of the noble penetrating insight that leads to the destruction of suffering. This is called the accomplishment of wisdom.

    AN 8.54

    Often meditation is absent from traditional descriptions of Lay Life, but never excluded. I think the reason is that it is quite time-consuming and produces the best results with sustained uninterrupted effort. The suttas are full of references to monks and nuns who plop themselves down day after day after their noon meal “for the day’s abiding,” a luxury few lay folks could afford. It is surprising that in the busy modern West meditation has become the end-all and be-all of Buddhist practice. I certainly don’t want to discourage it one bit, but would like to underscore the four elements here, which, you will notice, require no particular time commitment, but are to be brought to mind over and over again in the midst of other activities.

    Faith is more generally expanded to include the Triple Gem, Buddha, Dhamma and Sangha. We have just completed a series of postings here on faith and its role in Buddhism. Taking the Refuges, spending time with the wise and various devotional practices support the development of faith. Suffice it to say that it will supercharge your practice, for instance, making the other three factors listed here easy to sustain, and make you very pleasant for others to be around.

    Just as a large banyan tree, on level ground where four roads meet, is a haven for the birds all around, even so a lay person of faith is a haven for many people: monks, nuns, male lay followers, & female lay followers.– AN 5.38 (Saddha Sutta)

    Virtue is most generally defined in terms of precepts for ethical conduct. Accompanying these are the development of kindness and compassion, motivations for benefiting others. These are qualities too rare in our modern age.

    Charity, or dana, is probably the most fundamental Buddhist practice. If you want a short-cut to happiness, this is it, just go out and start doing things for other people. It quickly becomes addictive because it feels so good. Most people think they feel they have to take care of their own happiness before they can worry about others, but this is exactly backward.

    Generosity is traditionally the life-blood of the Buddhist community and makes temples and monasteries uplifting places to visit. In Buddhism generosity has an institutional form, expressed above in the reference to “alms,” in the uncoersed lay support of monastics. This is what allows monastics to practice full-time, and also supports lay people as well in periodic intensive practice retreats. It expresses the sentiment, “I believe in what you are doing and I want to support it.” Monastics do provide a return in offering teachings and inspiration to lay people — Buddhism would not long survive without that concentrated flame of practice that keeps others heated up — but most lay Buddhists find their offerings are best repaid simply by practicing sincerely, intensely and deeply. The reciprocal is true of monastics. As a monk and a teacher my greatest reward is not in receiving alms but in witnessing that someone has listened to the teachings I offer and then put them to use in their practice.

    Wisdom can represent the highest accomplishment of Buddhist practice, in which it is best developed in conjunction with a strong meditation practice. But it is also something that can be developed in everyday life through constant reflection on impermanence and out response to it. Life is full of peril, eventually we lose everything we hold dear, yet the world is renewing itself all the while. We need to learn not to hold on so tightly.

    All of these four Buddhist values are supported in a one-stop shopping experience by visiting traditional Buddhist temples, which traditionally also supports the qualities of family outings. This is one of the primary functions of the Uposatha day, to bring the kids, enjoy a potluck, renew the Refuges and Precepts, listen to a Dharma talk, bask in the flow of generosity, and even meditate with the monastics and strong lay practitioners. This piggybacking of Buddhist practice with community life and fun makes for easy integration into the busy lay life. Unfortunately the traditional Buddhist community, which is as far as I can see universal in Buddhist Asia, has been largely neglected in pay-as-you-go Western Buddhism. Part of the reason may be the scarcity of monastics like me, who are generally the spark that sets the community engine into motion. I think Gils Fronsdal, a lay Buddhist teacher in Redwood City, California, seems to have an understanding of the proper role of dana in the Buddhist community and reports delightful results from implementing it. So it may be that developing healthy Buddhist communities is a matter of education. My suggestion for the reader is to encourage your own center to become dana-based, and to become friends with Asian-oriented monasteries near you, in spite of possible linguistic and cultural challenges.

    Obligations. These are things you at least feel you do not have a choice about. Nonetheless they can be strong determinants of the way you live your life, and even lock the aspiring monastic into Lay Life against her will. Examples are marriage commitments, support of children or elderly or infirm parents and other relatives, military service and debt. Many people are shocked when they first learn the life of the Buddha that he abandoned a wife and infant son to pursue the holy life. The exact circumstances as opposed to legend may never be clear, but I think this story persists because it functions to open up the possibility of turning your back on obligations in order to pursue a greater value. It is rare for a Buddhist to completely abandon family especially when the family depends on him, but Buddhism opens such things for consideration. Of course the long arm of the law could well put a stop to that. It is notable that in order to ordain as a monastic you have to be free of all debt and also have your parents’ permission.

    Fundamental Values. Aside from Buddhist practice, what is really important to you? No, really? This, of course, is a deep question, and also a very personal question. Probably on most people’s short list is:

    • Family
    • Wealth
    • Reputation
    • Friendship, romance
    • Entertainment
    • Luxury

    At least common on many people’s list are certainly:

    • Football
    • Power tools and/or hi-tech gadgetry
    • Charitable and compassionate actions and projects
    • Intellectual and artistic pursuits
    • Celebrity
    • Eating
    • Sexual conquest
    • Alcohol, nicotine, caffeine, etc.
    • Sleep
    • Communing with Nature
    • Hard work, Hard play
    • Personal responsibility
    • Loyalty to nation or ethnic group
    • Honor, courage and being all that you can be, to those drawn to armed service

    It might be a helpful exercise to draw up your personal list of values. Keep in mind, these are values, not habits, things that you feel have a critical role in giving your life meaning and zest.

    Many of these things will be quite wholesome from a Buddhist perspective, others will be considered unskillful, prone to harm and unhappiness. We’ll try to weed some out and adjust others when we consider Rejecting and Balancing Elements in the Art of Lay Life. As a rule of thumb you can identify the ones that are most problematic in terms of how self-absorbed they are. I can imagine that some of you might have the urge to write down what a first seems like a fundamental value, like gossiping about other people’s hair, only to discover your own embarrassment that you even engage in such a thing. Be aware that you will probably find ways of justifying what is pretty petty in terms of a higher value, such as Truth with specialization in people’s hair. It is probably not one that belongs on your short list.

    The point of knowing what your values are is that you can then begin to consider them, then reconsider them, with regard to their advantages, their disadvantages, how they make you feel when you live up to them, what implications they have for other parts of your life, and what motivates your interest in them in the first place. This investigation can, and should, go on for many years in conjunction with the peace of mind and discernment that develops in the course of Buddhist practice. This is the beginning of the study of samsara. Over time you will certainly discover fewer and fewer of these elements that are worth sustaining, as they drop away like old toys from an emerging adolescent. Buddhist wisdom is that there is little worth sustaining, the disadvantages of most things, the pain of attachment, the way they enmesh you further in samsaric existence, in obligation, is just too great a price to pay. All is Aflame, painful to the touch.

    If you are like most people there will be some values that stand firm under close scrutiny. Sustaining them is your choice, and that can be a confident choice if you have examined those values closely and find they still speak to you. However there is another dimension of samsara to explore, the dependencies among elements in your life. Everything we bring into our lives comes at a cost, sometimes at an enormous cost, financially, socially, in terms of mental health and so on. Like a well-run corporation we tend to externalize costs in our own minds, that is we see only the attractive side of things but living with the costs. Much of the additional clutter of our lives is the cost we pay for what we value. Renunciation will probably sound like a welcome relief for things like long commutes, debt, chauffeuring of adolescents, the constant ringing of the phone, bills, nagging neighbors, threat of law suits, divorce, keeping up with never-ending housework, but they might not be so easy to remove from your life one by one. Next week we will look at these incidental elements.

    In the meantime consider, “What are my most fundamental values in life?” But combine the question with this mantra: “Simplicity.”

  • The Art of Lay Life 2

    New Moon Uposatha, July 15 (Index to Series)

    Whether it be a householder or one gone forth, it is the one of right practice that I praise, not the one of wrong practice – SN 45.24

    In summary of last week, Buddhism is practiced be different people at many different levels. It is most coherently defined for an endpoint on the scale of practice intensity. That endpoint is represented best by the Buddha. Those who fall short of the Buddha’s practice are not bad Buddhists or lousy practitioners, and should not feel guilty if they have failed to leave their family in order to “go forth” into monastic life, have not given up their livelihood, go to show or even drink a beer.

    This is important to understand. In Buddhism our lives should incline toward the endpoint, few will actually get anywhere near the endpoint, at least in this life. This is different from more common religious practice. Islam, for instance, can require good Muslims to bow toward Mecca each day, because although inconvenient virtually everybody can do it and it is wholesome, so it asks people to do more than incline in that direction. Buddhism cannot require that good Buddhists dwell in emptiness for hours every day, because virtually nobody can do it, so it demands of people less than an immediate obligation to do it.

    Now there are a variety of Best Buddhist Practices probably all readers have already brought into your lives, such as meditating, chanting, practicing generosity, following precepts, studying and listening to Dharma talks, reading essays like this. However, these compete with everything else in your busy lives that are not inspired by Buddhism, like having fun or working for a living. This raises an important issue in light of the most basic principle of Buddhist practice:

    I am the owner of my actions (kamma), heir to my actions, born of my actions, related through my actions, and have my actions as my arbitrator. Whatever I do, for good or for evil, to that will I fall heir… – AN 5.57

    This means that your development toward the perfection of character is a product of your actions, all of your actions, of body, speech and mind. Now, practice is actions, including actions of mind during meditation, but everything else you do is also actions and you are heir to that as well. Your path of development does not differentiate one bit what you are doing at work from what we are doing at the local Buddhist center. It is enormously important to be aware of this because our lives easily overwhelm our practice. This can not be overemphasized, so I will belabor this point for the second week in a row with another analogy.

    Suppose you are knitting a sweater. You have maybe an hour every evening to work on it, so it takes a number of weeks to complete. You put it aside when you have other things to do and you pick it up again when you return to resume where you left off, and so you make steady progress and never backslide. Practice does not work like this.

    Suppose instead that you are knitting a sweater, but you are never allowed to put it aside, you have to wear it, or that part of it that exists, while you are not knitting it. So, if you are washing dishes. making a presentation to the board, changing a flat tire, it is on your body. That is how practice is. This means that practice is easily soiled or unraveled by what you do with the rest of your day.

    As Buddhists you can make a very radical choice, and that is to simply empty your lives of everything else in order to devote ourselves purely full-time to Best Buddhist Practices. This is the basis of the monastic life, the renunciate’s life. The reason many make this radical choice is that the Buddhist path is sophisticated, difficult to master, penetrates deeply, really does ask intense and consistent effort, and brings enormous reward. However, this radical choice appeals to relatively few people. Although lay life is a less radical choice it can support a comparably intense and consistent effort, …, if it is implemented properly.

    Notice I refer to “monastic life,” rather than “being a nun or monk.” Living a monastic life is different than formal ordination. Formal ordination provides a social context which makes it easy to live a monastic life and plays other critical roles in Buddhism, but life-style is the key consideration in the Art of Lay Life. In fact, there are many formally lay people who live strictly monastic lives and many ordained monastics who manage to avoid a strictly monastic lives, and the fruits of their practice correspond observably to these circumstances. So “monastic life” is relative; some people live more monastically than others; chances are you already live more monastically than your next-door neighbor.

    The Art of Lay Life is in essence that of living as monastically as possible with the understanding that your lives will include some elements that are not Best Buddhist Practices. With skill and careful planning the lay life can nonetheless make rapid progress along the Path.

    Last week I stated the Art of Juggling. Here is the Art of Lay Life in brief:

    The Art of Lay Life.

    Select. Choose carefully what elements you want to juggle in your life. Remember that a lay life is a compromise between best Buddhist practices and whatever else you value, feel obligated, or just think of as cool. If you are like most people you already feel your life is too crowded and busy, and now you are trying to find room for Buddhist practice as well. Prune this down and select what is really important.

    For instance, “family” is a core value and obligation for perhaps most people. “Success in business,” “personal appearance,” “romance,” “opera,” “football,” might be others. Upholding core values might entail bringing other elements into your life: To support a family you need your job, which maybe happens to be manufacturing landmines for foreign export. When you think about it, you really don’t need to play video games endlessly.

    Reject. Now toss everything to the side that you think is important but has no place being juggled in a Buddhist life. Some things do not belong there for ethical reasons; they are significantly harmful. Other things do not belong because they make the mind dangerously vulnerable, either destroying serenity and leading to confusion and ignorance.

    For instance, your job manufacturing landmines is clearly Wrong Livelihood, and will weigh on you karmically. Obsessive concern with personal appearance serves an unwholesome sense of self. Start by considering what elements of your life result in violations of precepts, for instance, killing, stealing, lying. Then consider what peace of mind requires. In our modern culture we typically juggle elements that are quite toxic to practice that were totally unknown at the time of the Buddha, such as the unskillful use of electronic media. Some clear choices are critical at this level.

    Balance. The remaining elements are reasonably compatible with development along the path if they are skillfully juggled. Now, they can generally actually be shaped into objects of Buddhist practices themselves by tuning your relationship to them.

    For instance, we can learn to treat some of the remaining elements in a less self-serving way. Aside from valuing family for its own sake, you may think of family as a means of personal advantage. For instance, having a beautiful wife or husband and children, and a children that has been admitted to Harvard enhances your prestige. A beautiful husband or wife might also improve the level of your sexual pleasure. Often, if your family, especially spouse, fails to meet your needs, divorce ensues. However, you can take all this self-centeredness out of your relation to your family — and similarly out of each of the elements of your life — by developing a sense of complete devotion to your family, which is to treat it as valuable in itself, unquestioned, to rival refuge in the Buddha, the Dhamma and the Sangha. Also you can learn to do daily tasks with mindfulness, as a meditation practices and with full awareness of ethical consequences. In short, the things you have chosen to include in your life for other than practice reasons can be turned into practices.

    Simplify. In every other way, live like a monastic. Get rid of the clutter, the chatter, the habits and impulses that you would otherwise be juggling with your toes that don’t directly support what you have, through the above process wise reflection, decided to include in your life.

    For instance, try to be more of a recluse and don’t spend so much time gossiping, don’t shop impulsively, reduce your expenses and allocation of time for errands, organize your life with these things in mind. You might want to move to a small house in the city to avoid the commute from the suburbs and the heating/air conditioning costs. Give attention to avoiding everything that has the small of “me” in it. Free up time and money by living on less.

    In the next weeks we will look at each of these steps — Select, Reject, Balance and Simplify — in turn and in detail.

    The key ingredient of any Buddhist life-style, and to the Art of Lay Life is Renunciation. “Renunciation” is not a popular word in Western Buddhism, and most American Buddhist teachers will avoid it. I believe this is because almost everything else in our culture inclines us the other way, to such a degree that the word suggests something subversive. Everyone knows monastics are renunciates, but lay people?

    There are two forms of renunciation, mental and physical. We know about letting go of attachments; that is mental renunciation, which can also be described as releasing any personal stake you have in things. What I have been describing above is physical renunciation, giving up actual things and activities. Physical renunciation is what many find most disagreeable. Some teachers will tell you that you don’t need to worry about physical renunciation, it will follow once you master mental renunciation. This has the order reversed.

    First, if you read through the monastic precepts, which define what it is to be a monastic, you will find something interesting: They are only about physical renunciation; there is no precept that is about letting go of some thought. This does not mean that beginning monastics have mastered mental renunciation, only that they better do so, or they will be unhappy in their new life.

    Second, renunciation in life-critical non-Buddhist contexts do not postpone physical renunciation. Consider giving up a drinking or a smoking habit. It is hardly possible to begin the long process of recovery without first giving up actual physical drinking or smoking at the outset. You don’t begin by working with the mind to first remove all desire to drink or smoke first, all the while continuing to drink or smoke, then expect drinking or smoking to fall away by itself. I think of Buddhist practice as a kind of recovery from generalized substance abuse, as Samsara Anonymous.

    Third, physical renunciation is far easier than mental renunciation, and aids the latter. This is actually why monastics and alcoholics first give things up physically, then focus on getting their minds to follow the body’s example. Mental renunciation can be very very hard, and it requires physical help. The same thing is found in meditation practice, in which we mentally renounce the monkey mind, the endless business of thoughts. Notice that it does not work, at least for beginners, to just stop thinking so much, one begins by stilling the body, by finding a comfortable, stable posture, by sitting, for instance, rather than walking or running around. The mind quickly follows the body’s example.

    If this is disconcerting, keep in mind that Buddhist practice is as gentle and forgiving as you want it to be. It is not necessary to master the entire Art of Lay Life all at once. The four steps of the process should be gradually iterated into. At first there may be resistance to renouncing wild parties or the enormous prestige you know you are getting from your BMW, as well as a lack of understanding that you might benefit from renouncing these. Well, then at least give up your job working as a hit-man for the mob and become a cobbler. You will notice your meditation improve with time and a sense of well-being settle in. Later on you can revisit the wild parties and the image-enhancing car with a more stable, clearer, more developed mind. My own experience is roughly that I iterated over many years so much that nothing was left, so I became a monk. You don’t have to go that far, but beware that it could happen.

  • Lay Buddhist Practice 1

    Uposatta Day, July 8 (Index to Series)

    Energetic and heedful in his tasks,
    Wisely administering his wealth,
    He lives a balanced life,
    Protecting what he has amassed.

    Endowed with faith and virtue too,
    Generous he is and free from avarice;
    He ever works to clear the path
    That leads to weal in future life.

    Thus to the layman full of faith,
    By him, so truly named ‘Enlightened,’
    These eight conditions have been told
    Which now and after lead to bliss.

    AN 8.54

    Lay Practice is consistently contrasted with Monastic Practice in the ancient Buddhist texts, throughout Buddhist history, and in all Buddhist countries and almost all traditions in Asia. Segmenting the religious community into a monastic and a lay component is a peculiarity of Buddhism, along with some sects of Hinduism and certain Christian sects. In the West we generally do not appreciate how deeply embedded this is in virtually all Buddhist societies in Asia, though we generally are aware that the Buddha and his closest disciples were monastics and that most of his teachings were given to monastics. Is this bifurcation necessary, or even desirable in the democratic West?

    The core of Buddhist practice, what really distinguishes Buddhism from other religious practices, is the Noble Eightfold Path. Notably, the Eightfold Noble Path makes no distinction between Lay and Monastic, each is fully capable of observing all eight noble steps and neither is exempt from following all eight noble steps in the attainment of the highest goal. So, what is it that makes Lay Practice different from Monastic Practice?

    Not a cookie-cutter religion. Practice obligations tend to be quite uniform in probably most of the worlds religions. Islam is a primary example because the daily obligations are well defined for all. Quakers are another; their governance is even highly democratic, and includes no clergy. Probably most Protestant sects can be included. I call these “cookie-cutter religions,” because a uniform definition of what is expected of the adherent, that they live according to a certain moral code, that they except a certain creed, that they follow certain daily ritual practices, would be expected to produce similar results. Of course people everywhere inevitably distinguish themselves in terms of level of commitment or laxness, but there is a lot of communal strength and conceptual appeal in the uniformity of the cookie-cutter paradigm.

    Buddhism in its pure form could never be a cookie-cutter religion. Buddhism has an unusually sophisticated and deep-reaching system of practice with many interconnected parts, and a very long and rigorous path of practice passing through many different stages of development, generally conceptualized as proceeding through many lifetimes, and culminating in complete awakening. Because of the potential extreme depth of systematic Buddhist practice it is generally defined conceptually in terms of an ideal, in terms of what the most whole-hearted, committed and fortunate will undertake but few even of them will attain, in this lifetime.

    Virtually everyone falls short of the Buddhist ideal, and to wildly varying degrees. It is recognized from the get-go that its adherents will differentiate themselves on the basis of faith, commitment, obligations and interests outside of Buddhist practice, preferences as well within Buddhist practice, zeal, opportunities for inspiration and instruction from others, and so on. As a result, some adherents will meditate, but not follow precepts, some will follow precepts and practice generosity, but fail to approach contentment in sensual matters. In short, in Buddhism there is very little uniformity of practice, and correspondingly there is little obligation to maintain some agreed standard of practice. The amount and nature of Buddhist practice are ultimately matters of personal choice and opportunity and correspondingly there is a great tolerance for a variety of personal choices.

    Setting out on the Buddhist path is like taking a hike with a large and very mixed group of people of every age, state of health, type of footwear, backpack size, degree of inebriation, and so on. Such a group will spread out along the path, with the strongest, healthiest, be-hiking-booted, light-backpacked, boldest, most persistent and most enterprising leading the way. In the middle there might be a mutually infatuated teenage couple that keeps up in spurts, but keeps getting side-tracked and disappearing from the path for minutes at a time, some chubby middle-aged people who huff and puff, along with some fit but ancient birdwatchers. Falling way back are parents and their little kids who “cannot walk another step,” a couple of people sitting on a rock drinking beer, an elderly gentleman watching fire ants devour his cane that he had to abandon upright after it sank into a soft spot in the ground, and a lady who broke a heal upon encountering the first rock. The Buddhist path is defined with the leaders at the head in mind and the rest of us try our best to keep up but straggling to varying degrees; we do what we can, and often the accomplishments of the leaders, and tales of views from lofty heights inspire us to try a bit harder. The field guides, trail maps and high-tech hiking boots are generally designed with the leaders in mind.

    No, the monastics are not necessarily the leaders. However, individually people do make practice commitments at different points in the mix, often very rigorous commitments, and Buddhism does provide standards and communal support at many different levels depending on individual commitment. The Refuges bring with them a certain incentive. There are various sets of Precepts, from five to over three hundred, that one can take for life or on special occasions. There are communal ritual practices, Dharma talks, meditation and other events to encourage structure in one’s practice. Working with a teacher can support a strong personal practice. Monastic practice is a particularly strong standard supported within the Buddhist community. The point is that Buddhism has its cookie cutters but a lot of different cookie cutters, including one that turns out nuns and monks, but also many adherents that aren’t cut to size by any of them.

    The jugglers fallacy. A normal worldling life is full of different activities and commitments, obligations and worries. Many things we do are not chosen as a part of our Buddhist practice, or might even go against good practice. For instance, we do one thing because it is a family obligation or because it is our job and the boss says we have to do it. We do another thing because it seems like fun, even though it is not conducive to serenity and is of questionable virtue. We would rather gossip, listen to loud music, watch an adventure show, make love or sleep than meditate. These are all life-style choices. We each value different things and not all of our values come from the Buddha. I am a monk, so it is a good guess that my most of my values are in line with Buddhist teachings. However, I am also the father of grown children, and am fully aware of how meaningful and rewarding parenthood can be. Most people juggle a lot of things along with their Buddhist practice.

    This issue of juggling is more thorny than most realize: Suppose we find our lives are divided between our Buddhist practice and other things at at a ratio of maybe 10%, to 90%. So, we calculate: “Hmm, if I practiced 100% I could become enlightened in 1 year. It follows that if I practice the way I am now doing, at 10%, I could become enlightened in 10 years; that seems both reasonable and acceptable.” This same logic is commonly used to compute time until completion for various tasks, for instance, for building a house when only weekends are available for working on it, or for attending night classes toward a college degree. However this logic is a fallacy when applied to Buddhist practice, what I will call the Juggler’s Fallacy. Why the logic of the Juggler’s Fallacy fails is that everything we do is relevant to our practice, potentially setting it forward or backward or into a tailspin. It doesn’t matter if we call it practice or not, nothing is ever excluded from practice, whether it is right practice, wrong practice or something in between.

    The reason nothing is excluded from practice is that karma is the stuff of our practice, which is to say, our character and destiny develop according to our intentional actions of body, speech and mind. If this were not the case, practice would be fruitless. However, we are producing karma all the time, not just during the 10% of the time that we are “practicing Buddhism.” In fact, the 90% of the time we are doing something other than “practicing Buddhism” is bound to dominate our progress. This is, for instance, why Right Livelihood is so important; 40 hours working in a slaughter house is a lot of cumulative karma in a week, enough to overwhelm one hour of daily meditation regardless how many years, or in which jhanas, we meditate. We cannot even begin to make a separation between our practice and the rest of our life. Everything we juggle in our lives influences the progress we make along the path.

    Monastic life is a life of not juggling. Monastic life is most supportive of Buddhist practice because it has nothing visibly in it, only our own untamed thoughts, that contradicts personal development, and because it has much that supports it. In fact almost every element of the monastic life is there because it is sound Buddhist practice. Even if my meditation is lax and my mindfulness sloppy, as I adhere to the monastic lifestyle, development will at least not regress. I might be like the chubby middle-aged people huffing and puffing, but will make progress. If my practice is ardent, as I adhere to the monastic lifestyle, progress along the Buddhist path will be very rapid indeed, and I could be up front strong and fit, and with high-tech hiking boots. The monastic life was carefully formulated and described in the Vinaya by the Buddha, who used elements of ascetic practices common in Buddha’s India. It is a life of renunciation, but not extreme asceticism. that pares away everything that I would otherwise have to juggle.

    The Juggler’s Life. The Lay life is the juggler’s life, and most people will prefer to juggle many things that a monastic would turn away from. To begin with people’s values are informed through many influences, not all of which are Buddhist, and those values may be difficult to give up. Secondly, people vary in faith and may not be convinced about Buddhist values or that the monastic life is as advertised. Third, many people have family obligations, debts, etc. that keep them locked into the juggler;s life. The most notable deal-breaker for most is that monastics are strictly celibate! They also minimize family responsibilities, refrain from accumulating wealth or doing any kind of business or conducting a conventional livelihood. They restrain the senses by not going to shows, listening to music, and so on. Monastic life is simple, and believe-it-or-not quite joyful, but does not enjoy universal appeal.

    Lay Practice is the art of juggling. Lay practitioners follow the Noble Eightfold Path just like monastics, but in addition must follow the extremely challenging ninth practice of Right Juggling in order to shape and balance your life in such a way that the less Buddhist aspects of your life are not overwhelming or neutralizing the benefits of Buddhist practice. Lay practice is challenging, but not limited in its potential to achieve the highest attainments of Buddhist practice. What is worrisome about the Western lay life is that so few people realize that there is an art to juggling, that if not mastered can make progress on the path all but impossible. I’ve often seen Buddhist practice accordingly end in frustration. I hope that the series I am herewith beginning will help readers master the Art of Lay Practice.

    Let me present the Art in brief, but in metaphorical terms that may be cryptic enough to keep you in suspense until next week, but suggestive enough to inspire you to think about Lay Practice between now and then.

    The Art of Juggling.

    Select. Choose your balls carefully. Choose a set of balls that feel just right for you, that are the right size, weight and appearance, and that are not too great in number.

    Reject. Get rid of balls that are defective or unjuggleable. This is a check on the result of the first step. You may have been captivated by a ball because of its appearance, for instance, but overlooked its drawbacks. Throw it out if it is really too heavy, light, small to be usable.

    Balance. Have a wholesome, balanced relationship to your balls. Don’t be captivated by, nor proud of, the new shiny golden ball as it whizzes by. Your task is to juggle it faithfully and skillfully.

    Simplify. Don’t juggle things that aren’t balls. That is, while you have, say, six balls in the air, don’t at the same time try to answer your cell phone, smoke, drink coffee or flirt with a member of the audience.