Occupation: Monastic, Part One

In the past, the world was less crowded and the pace of life was slower. Monastics withdrew from the life of a householder to live a more reclusive life. They renounced a life in which family and work responsibilities, and earning a livelihood were of prime concern. They did so to be able to dedicate their lives to progressing more rapidly along the path to awakening.

To become a monastic, the individual needed to be sure family responsibilities would be met in the future. For example, if the parents were elderly, the future monastic needed to arrange for their support. They might have asked siblings, neighbors, or friends if they would be able to help. Family responsibilities well taken care of, the person could leave home and begin to follow the occupation of a monastic.

Depending on the tradition, there would be different kinds of work for the monastic to do. The work usually entailed cleaning, maintenance, and sometimes farming and cooking. When finished with their daily work, the monastics would practice and learn. Different traditions and masters would have their students do these in varying proportions.

Contact with the outside world was limited. Monasteries and nunneries were often located in forests and on mountains and, thus, not readily accessible. This inaccessibility provided more time for the monastics to do their work, practice, and study.

In China, for example, it was traditional for new monastics to spend most of their time working. After a few years, they would be able to spend eight hours a day in study and eight hours in cultivation. Spending sixteen hours a day on study and cultivation, and having limited contact with the outside world, left them with little time for wandering thoughts. In this way, they could advance in their practice fairly quickly.

So monastic's lives, which were very busy, were somewhat removed from society.

A Christmas Carol

Earlier this month, I was asked what I would be doing for Christmas. I replied that after having arrived in Toronto on Christmas eve, I would be giving my first lecture at the US-Canada Pure Land Buddhist Retreat. On hearing my reply that I would be working, Cameo and Jim were probably both even happier they were taking me out to dinner with them! I thought of how I was looking forward to trip: lecturing on the Amitabha Sutra, participating in a retreat, seeing old friends.  

After I got home that evening, I learned that in the United States, more people will have heart attacks today than any other day of the year. It's a combination of stress, too much partying, people not following their regular schedules and forgetting their medicine, and several other reasons. A day of celebration has, for too many people, become a day of anxiety and overindulgence.

And there is more. This is also the time of year the suicide rate increases as depression becomes more prevalent.

Regrets. Memories. Expectations. We think others are having fun but we’re not. We think by indulging ourselves and others, we’ll all be happy.

One of my favorite movies at this time of year is the 1951 movie, A Christmas Carol. Scrooge learned how to embody the spirit of Christmas by being considerate, by spending time with his family, and by giving small but needed gifts. Maybe he was on to something...

Social Anxiety

 

A recent post on the bog "No Impact Man"

Anyway, the day No Impact ended, Michelle and I bolted out to see Margo at the Wedding. The fact that we were seeing a movie was such a big deal in the narrative of No Impact that the documentary film makers even filmed us going to the cinema. A year of no movies. We were finally free. This was going to be great, right?

So guess what happened?

We were kind of bored.

The thing is, movies are okay, but honestly, it turned out we weren't missing much. Plus Michelle went to look around Barneys and came out not even wanting to buy anything. Plus, we've both ended up walking out of other movies.

You know what it is? We never missed movies, per se. We never missed stuff. But there was still some kind of pull, and here's what it was: wanting to have what other people around us had, wanting to do what they did, wanting to be where they were. In other words, it was, more or less, social anxiety.

If we get to do the things that other people do and have the things that other people have, that means we're as loveable as everyone else. If we go the places they go, then we're as cool and, therefore, again, loveable. Consumption has become a surrogate for being loved.

Instead of going and spending time with people we buy things or show up places like movies because the culture has sold us a bill of goods that says that this is what will make people love us.

How sad. So many of us are a bit lonely and need more human contact. We think the way to get it is to buy things. But really, if we want to be loved, what we we need is living rooms full of people instead of closets full of stuff. We need community. Isn't that an important point? We could be happy without the stuff and without wrecking the planet. We just need to hang out more.

How Buddhist! We have bought into the concept that "more will make us happy."

But in reality, with less, we will find contentment, and wisdom. 

Is the Pure Land real

Question: Is the Pure Land real? Why do you chant?

Response: The Pure Land exists on two levels. On one level, the Pure Land is a very real land that is far to the west of us. But on the ultimate level of understanding, the Pure Land is already within us. We ordinary beings see everything in terms of duality: pleasant or unpleasant, like or dislike, gain or loss. Buddhas no longer see duality.

They understand that we are all one and that everything outside of us is already within us. “Me” doesn’t exist for “I” am part of everything that is. When my mind focuses solely on Amitabha, I am Amitabha. When it focuses solely on the Pure Land, I am one with the Pure Land. It is already within me.

Black-nosed Buddha

 

A nun who was searching for enlightenment made a statue of Buddha and covered it with gold leaf. Wherever she went she carried this golden Buddha with her.

Years passed and, still carrying her Buddha, the nun came to live in a small temple in a country where there were many Buddhas, each one with its own particular shrine.

The nun wished to burn incense before her golden Buddha. Not liking the idea of the perfume straying to others, she devised a funnel through which the smoke would ascend only to her statue. This blackened the nose of the golden Buddha, making it especially ugly.

~101 Zen Stories