The Urban/Sangha Retreat

A Hundred Thousand Sparks of Metta 

by Matt

Something is stirring in remote woodland close to the village of Eccup. It's 9pm on a still Saturday evening. Darkness descended some time ago, yet the scene is illuminated by light from three separate sources. There's a beautiful moon, almost full, painting the sky and its twisting branches with a greenish light, reminiscent of one of John Atkinson Grimshaw's nocturnes. There's a snaking path of pretty candle lanterns, plotting a course through the forest floor from an old stone farmhouse to a circular clearing in the trees. And there, crackling, beckoning, and sending up huge plumes of white smoke, is a pyramid of fire being pulled into the sky by unknown hands.

The flames appear to herald a cessation. It's the culmination of the week-long urban retreat that saw the Triratna community across the world collectively explore the theme of 'Metta: Blazing like the Sun'. It's the end too of the weekend retreat to Lineham Farm, attended by 30 people from the Leeds sangha. And it's the last few moments of life for the flaming mandala masterfully crafted from twigs and branches by Giles, and adorned with coloured card flames and handwritten aspirations by all who visited Leeds Buddhist Centre in the preceding week.

This flaming mandala is on its final journey. It's being carried by a procession slowly making its way through the woodland. Smiling faces flicker through the candle light. Voices sing 'Om Mani Padme Hum'. Milan is dancing. The procession spirals its way around the bonfire, still chanting, then waiting. Flames of anticipation start rising, and next the blazing mandala is cast into the fire! A hundred thousand sparks of Metta leap into the world and dance on the breeze, off to start fires in the hearts of other living beings.

every single aspiration offered to the night. Then, as the fire dies down a calm descends on the woodland. Chatter begins to bubble, but voices remain gentle, mellowed perhaps by the mighty flames. People gradually drift back to the farmhouse, carrying the heat of the weekend's intense exploration of Metta, which included group discussion, meditation, mantras, and tales of Avalokitesvara's shattering into thousands of pieces and Amitabha's healing hands by which he was reformed. Soon the fire expires and only ashes remain.

Two weeks later, I still find myself sat amongst those ashes. It's a different environment to the fire of the urban retreat. In place of radiance, energy and heat, there's a pale grey sea of stillness in which to reflect. In the ashes I see the lines that my life leaves behind each day. They crisscross with the lives of others, sometimes for good, sometimes for bad. How curious that after delving into the mythic dimension of the metta bhavana I should find myself sat on the ground contemplating ethics...

Although I'm covered in the ashes of a great fire, it strikes me that this is more of a beginning than an end. Metta can, and did, blaze like the sun, but even when the sun goes down it doesn't disappear. It falls below the horizon, yes, but it very much remains in the world - I resolve to keep this in mind as I continue to navigate through what can sometimes feel like life's dark forest.

 * watch a video clip of the burning of the flaming manadala by clicking here.

Amitabha - The Buddha of Infinite Radiance

This month:

As the Buddha of Love and Compassion Amitabha is totally approachable and, just like the setting sun, one can look directly at him without harm. He is the colour of a precious ruby, the red sangha jewel, the colour of a blush, of delicate emotion and of life-sustaining blood. He sits serenely in meditation with one hand resting on the other, thumbs lightly touching. And in the oval space between his hands he embraces space - the emptiness of all things - as his most precious possession. He is relaxed, tranquil, timeless; radiating the warmth of love and compassion. There is little need for words or explanation, his very appearance says so much, and for this reason his image is loved even by those who know little of the Dharma. He is seen everywhere in the world, in gardens, in houses and shops, as well as in Temples, Buddhist Centres and on shrines. And wherever he is seen, however mundane the location, his message of Love, Compassion and Timelessness speaks out.

Amitabha is associated with the poison of passion, the energy of which he transmutes into Discriminating Wisdom. Whereas Ratnasambhava's Wisdom of Equality sees the common factor in all changing appearances, this Wisdom of Amitabha sees, and loves, the uniqueness of everything. Nor is there any idea of self or other and since it is always non-dual there never any basis for attachment or craving. So through Amitabha, all one's emotional energy is directed gently towards the quest for Enlightenment.

He is the head of the Lotus (padma) family which includes Avalokiteshvara, Padmasambhava, White Tara, and the historical Buddha, Shakyamuni.

Amitabha was once a Bodhisattva called Dharmakara, who, as Bodhisattvas are wont, vowed to attain Enlightenment for the benefit of all living beings. Dharmakara however went a step further and vowed that when he obtained Buddhahood he would create a Pure Land, in which almost anyone who had been devoted to him, could be reborn. In the mythic story, he becomes the Buddha Amitabha and creates the 'Happy Land' of Sukhavati where the forests of trees are made of jewels, and colourful birds sing songs of the impermanence and the insubstantiality of all things. Great rivers flow, singing about the depths of the Dharma as they go, and gentle breezes cause flowers to fall from the sky. All that you might need - food, clothing, palaces - appear instantly as you wish for them and in all directions golden Buddhas sit on vast lotus flowers teaching the Dharma, while Amitabha himself sits on a great lotus throne, flanked by his two chief Bodhisattvas, Avalokiteshvara and Mahasthamaprapta.

The Pure Land Schools of Buddhism in China and Japan consider that there is no need for long journeys or great struggles - it is simply enough to pay homage to Amitabha through chanting his name. om namo amitabhaya buddhaya or in Japanese namu amida butsu.

For many of us in the West the symbolism of Amitabha can be helpful too. If he is able to create his own world through meditation on love, compassion, and the emptiness of all phenomena, then we too can begin to change our own world in the same way. By bringing the figure of Amitabha to mind, and by chanting our version of his mantra (om amideva hrih) we can see more clearly how we create our own suffering through greed, hatred and confusion. Then, through a sense of love and compassion and an appreciation of the true nature of all things, we too can begin to create a new and purer world and, ultimately, we can even create a Pure Land of our own where we and all beings are released from suffering.

I bow to the western lands,

To the life giving sun,

To the element of fire,

Gift of the gods.

I bow to the selfless heart,

To love, compassion, and devotion.

I bow to the grace of the Buddhas.

I bow to Amitabha of infinite light.

I bow to the beginningless, centreless, and infinite,

The perfect peace of the Buddha.

Fully self awakened and self blossomed,

Purified and expanded,

Showing the path to realisation.

I bow to Amitabha!

Incomparably perfect in features,

Exquisite in body.

Poise, grace, and peace!

Appearing from emptiness,

Yet brilliant and vivid in form.

Amitabha unmeasured, boundless, infinite.

Amitabha splendour, light, beauty.

Amitabha radiance, depth and mystery. 

Burning red Buddha!

Ruby red Buddha!

Fire of Compassion!

Fire of Love!

Fire of Bliss!

Fire of Peace!

Infinite,

Eternal light.

AMITABHA!

I bow to you.

Om Amideva Hrih

(Amitabha puja extract by Dhiramati)

When Mandy met her Maj

Meeting her Majesty

Exploring the Metta Bhavana

Many Strands of Metta

by Uddyotani

In the last few years I have been exploring the metta bhavana, taking it to pieces and playing with it - trying to see what makes it tick.  I think for many of us when we learn the practice it seems effortful, maybe complicated - there's a lot to remember and to 'do' and its easy to get discouraged and to let the practice fall away.  So what happens if we look just at one part at a time, one strand of metta that flows through the whole?

One thing I have learned is simply not to try and do too much.  There are many stories in the metta bhavana, many narratives, strands that get tangled up together and get in each other's way. We can keep it simple, follow one narrative at a time, let ourselves disentangle naturally.  What do I mean by 'narrative' in this context?  For me a narrative means 'a story I tell myself'.  In the practice, what story can I tell myself that will help me go from where I am to a warmer, kinder, more aware place?

To give an example, say I sit to do the metta bhavana, and I find I'm in a bit of a closed down state. The Buddha encouraged us to practice metta, my own meditation teachers did the same, I respect their advice so here I am on my cushion. But actually I'm feeling a bit unwilling to connect with others, I don't want to open up, or I'm feeling reactive in some way. What narrative can I follow that will help me soften? 

One that I use in this state is the story of the body, feeling my body's response to being just me on my own and also in the imagined presence of others - a friend, a stranger, a difficult person.  Have you ever noticed how it feels when a stranger comes and sits next to you, maybe in a waiting room or on a bus - that sudden awareness of personal space, a subtle shift in your body? Our mind will rationalise our response to others but our body tells us something very simple. There is a basic comfort in being alone or with a friend, and a basic discomfort in the presence of strangers, the unknown, the 'other'.  What is it like to bring this feeling into awareness - to ask, what's happening in my body, now, as I imagine being with these people?  Practising metta in this case is simply to practice being at ease with ourselves and with others, opening up to a softer space.

Another story we might follow would be to explore the practice from a wisdom perspective.  How do these labels - 'friend' , 'stranger', difficult' or 'enemy' arise?  Our friend is the one who gives us what we want, who makes us happy and doesn't obstruct us. Our difficult person has got in our way or caused us pain. And what of the neutral person? They might offer kindness or cause us problems, but until they do it can be hard to connect with them. Friends become enemies, enemies become friends, strangers can become one or the other - we can see them change, see how this happens. Maybe we can see that our labels have more to do with us, our happiness, than they do with the person we have labelled. This is not a fault, not a failing - just human nature. But to learn to see it clearly, to sit lightly with that awareness, is to open up a space in which other people get to be themselves.

Both of these stories connect with the narrative I call 'The Guest House' - after Rumi's poem of the same name.

All are working with the subjective pole, with our own experience. We learn to see our 'self' - our stuff and our stories - with kindness. Whatever arises is OK - positive responses, negative responses, they don't have to be a problem if we let them into awareness, we let them move and change and flow through. So practicing metta is about being truthful about what's going on in our experience, making space for it to soften and dissolve - and then seeing what arises.

Other narratives we explore in the metta bhavana practice open us up to 'other', to the objective pole. We can be more actively out-going, have a wish to connect with others, a wish to bring happiness into the world. We are letting go of boundaries, letting go of difference, moving beyond ourselves into an empathic awareness of other people's being.

What I love about this is that it strips us back to our simple shared humanity, because that's all we can know about each other.  We might be vividly aware of each other's good qualities and failings but metta does not depend on these. With shared humanity as the narrative for the metta bhavana, I take time to touch the realities of my own life - it's ups and downs. When I bring to mind a friend, a stranger, a difficult person, and I let myself know that they are a human being like me, then the barriers fall. Just like me they feel happiness and sorrow, pleasure and pain - what happens if I let myself feel this, if I touch their experience as if it were my own? Sometimes we see this most clearly when someone is ill - the barriers fall away. I found this in my own life; when my father became ill all the differences between us seemed unimportant. All that felt important was the wish to be present and to spend time together, to respond to that sudden knowledge of the vulnerability of another person.

well, may all beings be free from suffering'. This aspiration can be inspiring but it's also daunting - we don't know what to do with our own suffering, our smallness, our inability to respond to others. In the Tibetan tradition the practice takes the form of Tonglen, taking in the suffering of beings, letting it transform us, responding with love.  A lesson from this tradition is that Tonglen comes after a series of reflections - another word for stories or narratives - explored slowly to open us up and let the whole of us be present. We cannot leap in to an aspiriational practice, we can only open our hearts, bit by bit, breath by breath so that when we bring others to mind the aspiration arises and is met with no resistance. And because there is no part of our self resisted, self falls away; the practice is held by something bigger, it has no limits.

 

To see the metta bhavana as a series of reflections or narratives that we can explore and give time to, each in turn, is to bring some space into the practice. There is no hurry, we can respond to the story our own heart needs in the moment. We can start where we are - and ask, what story can I tell that will help me open to a warmer, kinder, more aware place?  Strand by strand we can let the practice grow.

Poet's Corner

Clearance

by David MacDougall

Stir.

Arise.

How long have you been like this?

Set down the tools, unwhiten your knuckles.

Release your viced brow

and stop squinting.

Hands lift to comfort face

but find iron:

a mask, of all things.

(Against all things)

Grime streaks visor,

inner surface coarsely flecked

with remnant brine.

It cleaves concrete when you

Blink.

Breathe.

What have you created?

Retreat a step and see it all, for once.

A model city of sweated plans and grasped desires.

Granite and sulphur. You burned

when you built those streets.

A citadel juts; you're amused to find

your graven image

golden in the spire.

Off to one side,

a tinfoil pond enjoys the

attendance of birds.

Bolden.

Leave.

Where now?

The craftsman's shed's behind you.

Vastness outside

-- ducts thrum in accord with beauty.

Radiance overhead, unseen. An embryonic blue

delicately drapes the East.

You feel a mirror flash.

You bristle, body mobilised,

then turn the Earth under your feet.

Water trickles to a tune you've never heard

and know by heart.

Open.

Begin.

The Eye of the Cat

by Liz Price (Sheffield)

Looking back - nine lives

A Dangerous Friend

by Dinah Milson

Day dawns

What's your weather?

Walk in the shadows

I'll find you

Walk in the light

I'll greet you

Walk with faith

I'll protect you

If you call me I'll be there

Beware

If you want to be free

Come sit with me

I am the earth, the wind, the sky

the conscience in your eye

Walk with love

I'll be your god

Walk with hate

your hells will quake

Do not lie

I never die

Wolves of love circle your heart

Why wait

For truth to start

Walk in my dreams

I walk in yours.

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