Going Forth

Matt writes: In an unconventional way I'm about to 'go forth'.  Bear with me on this one... 

I've just spent an hour tying myself in knots thinking about how to write a short piece on a key turning point in the Buddha's life - the moment when he left home and became a wandering spiritual seeker.  It's been very frustrating.  I'm an academic, you see, so I've been trained to write in a formulaic way - all pieces of work should have a clear structure (so people can follow what I'm saying) and all aspects of a particular topic should be covered in as much detail as possible (so people think I know what I'm talking about).  In this case I've been thinking of using the title 'crisis towards contentment' - sounds quite snappy and neatly frames what I want to say about the Buddha's going forth.  I was also thinking of borrowing from Sangharakshita's talks on the noble eightfold path and telling you how the Buddha had a moment of 'perfect vision' before embarking on the 'path of transformation' (here I'd weave in something about the legend of the Four Sights - the mythical account in which the Buddha, having lived in a palace until the age of 29, finally went outside the walls and was shocked to discover an old man, a sick man and a corpse.  He then saw a wandering ascetic and became one himself).  However, putting all these ideas and different terms together and writing about them in a structured, informative, meaningful way just hasn't worked out for me!!

  The crazy thing is that I've started acting surprised about this - "I always write in this style, it's what I'm used to, this my comfort zone...why am I finding it so difficult?!!"  But then a few minutes ago, just as I was on the verge of getting in a huff and switching the computer off, I suddenly saw the unlikely and somewhat bizarre parallels between my current predicament and the situation the Buddha found himself in 2,500 years ago.

At some point in his late teens or twenties, the Buddha had an experience of perfect vision, he became aware of aspects of reality he'd previously ignored.  He saw that old age, sickness and death are inescapable aspects of the human condition.  Seeing these harsh realities - or 'divine messengers' as he described them - the Buddha threw off his intoxication with youth, health and life.  He left home and the people he loved, he abandoned security, status and comfort in order to join an alternative world of religious wanderers.  And so he stepped foot on the figurative 'path' of spiritual practice that led him away from samsara towards a shimmering alternative.

Sangha Snapshot

In this special edition Billy and Zara share their experiences of 'Going Forth'...

grand description for what actually happened, but I did leave behind a
house, a car, a motorbike and an ex-wife. What I walked towards was some
kind of idea that I could, in reality, find a way to express what I felt
to be true in my life. There were no outward sights that I remember; but
there are four words (kinds of inner sight perhaps) which could describe
me then, and to some extent describe me now: Transgender, polyamourous,
queer, anarchist.

These four factoids that seemed true then made the life of a householder
impossible, at least without a lot of compromise and unhappiness. What is interesting about these signifiers now, is that they seem to lack some
authenticity in the face of a consistent meditation practice. Almost as the fundamental forces of the universe give up their secrets in turn as the
energy available to experiment increases, so the ultimate emptiness of these words as attempts to describe my experience becomes apparent as
practice demands ever greater self-love, clarity and authenticity.

Two examples; It was clear some time ago that being queer was something that I could be quite happy with - it came with a comfortable set of
practices and "refusals to define" which it seems might well serve me for the rest of my life - to the extent that "queer" is now simply a convenient label to which I have no particular attachment. Being transgender is much less sorted, and has been the last to distil out into my experience - a process which is yet unfinished I think. The life story
which I built around my experience of gender has served me well enough, but it cannot take the place of true understanding, and its collapse seems inevitable and exciting, even though it has been, and will probably continue for a while to be, painful.

Zara's First Taste of the Dharma: A Tribute to Patrick Macartney 

My first taste of the Dharma came from a tutor of mine at University, who later became an inspiring friend and a bit of a counsellor for me. Patrick Macartney lectured in the Sociology Department at the University of Leeds. He was deeply engaged with his work and renowned for always having students queuing outside his door, or messaging him on facebook! Pat was involved with the New Kadampa Buddhist tradition and had spent several years living in communities. He used his time as a lecturer as an opportunity to practice his Dharmic principles, patience being one he mentioned often! 

Pat was quirky in his teaching technique, often swearing and making cheeky comments! This made him likeable and intriguing, particularly for me - a 19 year old who had recently left an all girls sixth form run partly by nuns! What was most fascinating about Pat though, was his ability to strike up gripping socio-psychological debates. His specialist area was socio-constructionlism - a school of thought which popularises the idea of 'no fixed reality'. According to socio-constructionlism, everything is essentially created by our continuing interrelations and interactions with one another and has no essential essence.

Patrick often wore prayer beads around his wrist and would regularly refer to Buddhism in overt, or sometimes more covert ways. I recall sitting in a seminar with him once when he suddenly pointed out the window at a tree, asking "how do we know that tree is really there?" My internal response at the time was 'well because we can see it!' and I left it there, a little bemused. Still, Pat's qualities intrigued me and one evening, I went home after a class to look up Buddhism on Wikipedia... 

Patrick Macartney

Some aspects of what I read lit a fire in my heart, though by this point I was 21, lazy and very self-conscious. I felt a lot of resistance to entering a Buddhist Centre or making the effort to read books on the subject. That all changed when one evening my mother asked me to attend Church with her to pray for my dying uncle. Although I was at the time a 'Catholic', I hadn't been to Church since school and suddenly found myself curiously scrutinising the whole process. The communion line, the hymns, the perfectly in sync movements from standing, to sitting, to kneeling positions. Now a sociology student, I was sociologically analysing the whole ritual with admittedly, some judgement. 

The following day, I decided to scrap my previous dissertation idea and begin a study of religious ritual. I saw this as an opportunity to attend a Buddhist Centre and start my dissertation - two things I had been meaning to get round to! I emailed Pat who agreed to oversee the project and in the months that followed I spent time with Christians, Hindus and Buddhists interviewing them and joining in with their rituals. This included doing puja with the NKT and the Mindfulness of Breathing course at the Swarthmore Centre...

I entered the Swarthmore Centre with my notepad ready to scribble sociological ramblings about what I witnessed, though instead became fully immersed in the atmosphere, the meditation and the teachings from the very beginning. Excited by the experience, there was a skip in my step on the walk home and as soon as I got there, I was knocking on my housemates doors in my 6 bed student digs desperate to share my experience. As nobody was in, I sat in my room to absorb it quietly, fully aware that that very day I had found something special. Uddyotani agreed to let me interview her for my dissertation some weeks later and I recalled my interesting experiences of different religious traditions to her, though confessed I had fallen in love with the Dharma. A fairly militant vegetarian, egalitarian and eco warrior, here I could express my higher ethical ideals with more gentleness and finally begin to understand and work with my actions and life choices. 

Pat was a special man and although I did not recognise this at the time, he was spreading the Dharma through his teaching and even more so in the way he lived his life. Regardless of the reason I originally entered his office, I would always end up telling him my worries and feeling nourished by his presence. He died of a brain tumour in 2011 and the huge crowds of students and friends at his funeral was evidence of the tremendous impact of kindness. Thank for you giving me the Dharma Pat, the greatest gift I have ever been given. 

Dying of Thirst - Weekend Retreat

Mandy writes...

On a recent weekend, twenty-odd members of our sangha, all either ordained, on the path towards ordination, or thinking about embarking on that path, met at Leeds Buddhist Centre for a weekend of meditation, puja, exploring ways of seeing and engaging with sraddha (faith). 

We were led by Samanartha, whose theme for the weekend was a quotation from 18th Century Zen Buddhist Hakuin Ekaku. 'Not seeing the truth is near, they seek it far away. What a pity! It is like dying of thirst while standing in water.'

After an opening puja, we spent Saturday morning in silence and meditation. In the afternoon Samanartha invited us to reconnect with our reasons for meditating. 'Why do you meditate?' he asked. We must all have considered this question before, but not here, not now, and perhaps not in this particular constellation of people. In the discussion group I was in, it seemed a question that refreshed the parts other questions cannot reach. For me, a new motive for meditating announced itself. Perhaps it had been there all along, hiding out in its night vision glasses and camouflage gear. Samanartha also asked us to reflect on what an effective meditation practice might look like and what we might need to do to make our own practice more effective.

On Sunday, the questions didn't get any easier. But first came two exercises designed to tickle and poke our sense of self and self's story. One involved letting go of a marble which had only been imaginary in the first place. Feelings of confusion, irritation and relief were evoked all around the room. Another involved pairing up and listening to our partner's account of their morning so far - only we had to interrupt them frequently to tell them no: it hadn't happened like that. This scenario must have played itself out differently in different pairs, but I enjoyed Sarah's account of her early morning walk down Dock Street in the sunshine, which she subtly - and plausibly - altered every time I contradicted her. So I still have no idea whether there really is a little Sainsbury's near the Buddhist Centre that opens at seven a.m. on a Sunday or whether she bought milk in a shop called Yum-Yum. As for my fictional journey into Leeds, I walked all the way from Ilkley and got there before the train. Who would have thought it?

This playful blurring of relative truths formed an introduction to the point of the day: reflecting (amongst other things) on why clear sightedness and exploding the myth of fixed self are so important in Buddhism. Towards the end of the day, we recited the Heart Sutra again, which Samanartha described as a useful 'pin to pop the bubble' of our fixed views.

It was a weekend of great value. It provided food for thought - and food for 'no thought' too. The theme seemed relevant to all of us not just in terms of our own practice but as sangha members. Uddyotani once commented at a Friends' Night that although many of us enjoy going away on retreat, and reading literature from outside our own tradition, we shouldn't underestimate the value of what we have here in Leeds.

Learning from Stillness

T.S.Eliot was not influenced by Buddhist teachings as far as I'm aware, but in this verse from the 'Four Quartets' he captures something that to me feels very alive with the Dharma. He talks of 'the still point of the turning world' - a place of pause where we might find ourselves spun out of the dance for a moment. It might be a place we recognise from our own experience - climbing a hilltop, finding ourselves alone by the sea, a place where just for a moment the world doesn't press on us so strongly. It might be an involuntary pause - sometimes illness or loss forces us to a different pace. It might be a place we seek out. There is something different to be found there.

Meditation is for me one such still point. We can sit with different aims, which are appropriate at different times in our practice. It might be the right thing simply to be learning to practice, finding out what it's like. We may want to be calm, have a refuge from a busy or difficult life. We may be exploring deeper meditative states, the 'dhyanas'. We may be using it as a basis for insight practice, observing, even enquiring about our experience. For me, answering the question why I sit has become simpler over the years. I ask less and less of my practice and I'm learning simply to let it be. It is a space where craving and aversion are given a chance to fade away, or to play out their dance in their own time. Here I can let go of fighting my experience; It can be the mindfulness of breathing, the metta bhavana practice or just sitting, the only effort is in not to get too lost in thoughts, to keep an overall sense of awareness. It is a deep 'unlearning' of the habit of activity, of preference, of dividing experience into acceptable and unacceptable. Awareness is the practice, skillful choice comes later when we can see ourselves more clearly.

At the still point of the turning world.

Neither flesh nor fleshless;

Neither from nor towards;

at the still point, there the dance is,

But neither arrest nor movement.

And do not call it fixity,

Where past and future are gathered.

Neither movement from nor towards,

Neither ascent nor decline.

Except for the point, the still point,

There would be no dance, and there is only the dance.

At the still point we have let go of judging and evaluating, or we see our judgements for what they are. We get caught up, we let go - thoughts, feelings, sensations arise and pass away. At the still point 'the dance' becomes clearer. There is only the dance, not separate from stillness.

I am reminded of the Zen teaching of 'not choosing':

The Great Way knows no impediments;

It does not pick and choose.

When you abandon attachment and aversion

You see it plainly:

Make a thousandth of an inch distinction,

Heaven and earth spring apart.

If you want it to appear before your eyes,

Cherish neither 'for' nor 'against'.

To compare what you like with what you dislike,

That is the disease of the mind.

Then you pass over the hidden meaning;

Peace of mind is needlessly troubled.

(Seng-ts'an, Third Patriarch of Zen)

Uddyotani

Wesak Celebrations in Leeds 

Mandy writes: Last year a small group of us attended the Wesak celebrations at the Jamyang Buddhist Centre in Leeds. It was a fascinating afternoon: in turn, small groups from eight or so different Leeds Buddhist traditions came forward and told everyone about their group. Sometimes this took the form of a historical narrative, or a description of the group's founding principles. Some others (ourselves included) offered chanting which everyone was encouraged to join in with.

100 Days of LovingKindness

 Wildmind.org is currently marking 100 days of lovingkindness.  In this extract from their website Bodhipaksa looks at ways of  cultivating more loving kindness towards ourselves.

A lot of people have trouble feeling lovingkindness for themselves. They've been brought up, or have learned, to think of themselves as unworthy of love, or for some reason think it's wrong to have kind feelings toward themselves.

One way to get round this is to imagine that you're a wiser, kinder, more compassionate version of yourself - you as you might be after another ten, or fifteen, or twenty years of practice. And you're thinking of the present day you, with kindness and with a forgiving and understanding appreciation of the conditioning that he or she is struggling with. Perhaps there's a feeling of tenderness, as you might have when thinking of yourself as a young child.

Imagine that you could meet yourself at a young age - perhaps at the age of five. Wouldn't you wish your past self a happy life? So the future self, that you're imagining yourself to be now, would have the same kind, patient, compassionate attitude to the you of today. Let the love flood back in time...

And now switch back to being the you of today, receiving this warm lovingkindness and compassion from your future self. How does it feel?

Follow Wildmind's 100 days here www.wildmind.org/blogs

Buddhafield 2013

BUDDHAFIELD NORTH MEN'S WEEKEND CAMPING RETREAT

The Pali word metta has many meanings but is most commonly translated as loving kindness. Essentially metta is an altruistic attitude of friendliness as distinguished from those amiable feelings that are partly growing out of self-interest. Through developing metta we break through our bubble of ego and make connections with the world. Through a growing awareness of others we identify less and less with our own agenda and cultivate an interest in all creatures. It becomes less and less a case of us against them. Through increasing awareness of our true relationship with the world our own mental and spiritual health is given the best possible chance to flourish.

The Karaniya Metta Sutta is the source material of much of the Buddha's teaching on metta. In it, the Buddha discusses the conditions that we must obtain for metta to arise and how to cultivate it in one's mind and heart. It is a short, highly practical guide to developing metta that Buddhist have turned to most readily through the centuries.

Buddhafield North have now been running camping retreats for ten years. On this men's weekend camping retreat we will be exploring the sutta through meditation, talks, ritual and just hanging out at a beautiful farm just north of Ilkley, in West Yorkshire. We will provide a full retreat programme and food, leaving you plenty of spare time, perhaps to enjoying the West Yorkshire countryside or just soak up the peaceful retreat atmosphere.

You will need to bring your own camping equipment. The retreat is suitable for those familiar with the meditation as taught by the Triratna Buddhist Community.

The cost is £85 (fully wage); £75 (low); £60 (none). Full joining instructions will be given on booking.

BUDDHAFIELD NORTH WOMEN'S WEEKEND CAMPING RETREAT

GROUND OF THE GODDESS

led by Padmadarshini, Vidyabhadri and Santasiddhi

June 14th -16th Buddhafield North

Padmadarshini writes, "The Goddess as archetype has lived in the human psyche since ancient times when we lived as hunter - gatherers. As 'mother goddess' associated with the moon and cycles of life and death she was an image of the universe as an organic, alive sacred whole in which all life participates in mutual relationship.

As times changed the Goddess - the feminine principle - was lost, 'swallowed' up by the new consciousness - with the God as the prevailing mythic symbol - and a new paradigm that discriminates and separates and introduces a split between spirit/ matter, thinking/feeling, instinct/ reason... a new paradigm necessary for evolving human consciousness.

The Goddess, though subordinated, hidden, was not lost entirely. Her symbols endure and she lives on as an aspect of human consciousness. We experience her when we encounter qualities of deep feeling and presence, spontaneity, the capacity to be where we are in the moment, to be 'in process', receptivity, the capacity to accept all of life, at ease with paradox.

The times we live in now call for all of us - women and men both - to re-embody the feminine - not by going back to the Goddess of the past but to "dream the dream onwards" - to an new integration that honours both the feminine and the masculine in each of us. Within this context our weekend will be a re-membering of the Goddess - exploring how she appears to us today, where we might find her and what images and symbols invoke her. And we will explore how she lives on in archetypes of the Buddhist tradition.

Our explorations will include meditation, bodywork, talks, discussion and ritual. The site has a beautiful view across the valley, surrounded by fields and trees. In the company of other women, we can let the positive conditions and company in this natural environment revive and restore us.

Please note that the views expressed in this newsletter are the opinions of individual authors and do not necessarily reflect the views of the Leeds Buddhist Centre, theTriratna Buddhist Community (Leeds) or The Triratna Buddhist Order