Nothing Brilliant: Just Some Contented Musings

When people become comfortable talking to me (and realize it would take a pretty strange question to elicit an eyebrow raise) the subject of leaving one's family to become a monastic often comes up. How can we leave our families, those we love, behind? Don't we feel alone?

As my Teacher explained one time, it's not as though we no longer have a family. Instead, we have a very large family for everyone is now in that family. It's all a matter of perspective.

As monastics, we also have a Buddhist family. Earlier this year, I was speaking to a monk at a monastery after the subject of my coming for an extended visit to give lectures came up. With a warm smile, he said I was very welcome to come as we're all children of the Buddha. Instant family!

More recently, I have begun writing to two monks. The first introduced himself and asked some excellent questions about Pure Land practice. He then mentioned this blog to another monk and now we're also getting to know each other. Another part of the family!

What is so wonderful is that thanks to technology, it becomes so much easier for us monastics to meet our siblings. It makes no difference that the siblings may belong to different traditions or are from different countries. The motivation to become a monastic, the strong wish to be of benefit to others, and the ultimate goal of awakening go beyond traditions and cultures. A brother is always a brother.

Giving from Our True nature

In the Monday morning class this week, I was talking about giving as a countermeasure for greed and craving. At the end of the talk, I said "When we learn to give as caring and generous people give—we will no longer feel tired. And even if we feel tired when we begin helping, after a while we will find that giving makes us feel more alert, happy, and energetic."

A former teacher who had taught for thirty-eight years raised a question about burnout. I know that her intentions, as were the intentions of all the wonderful teachers I know, had been to help children, not to benefit oneself.

Her excellent question provided an opportunity to elaborate on giving, one of the three forms of which is teaching. When we teach skills in school or in other surroundings, we are sharing what we know with others. By not holding anything back and teaching wholeheartedly, we will help people improve their lives. Obviously, learning how to provide for themselves and for their families is very important. But, the time frame for the helpful results is limited to, at the most, the person's current lifetime.

From the Buddhist perspective, the highest form of teaching is to teach about causality and the ways to awaken. These teachings provide benefits that are far more encompassing because they can improve not just this lifetime, but future lifetimes as well.

When we give unconditionally and spontaneously, we are giving from our true nature: the nature that wishes for all people to end suffering and attain happiness—forever.

Giving from our true nature and knowing that our wish is to help people not just for one lifetime, but for many lifetimes, is truly energizing.

Dedication for the Ill and Deceased

Question: How can I develop a short but effective daily practice that will allow my Pure Land prayers to be of more benefit to the ill? How do I make dedications afterwards to benefit those already dead?

Response: The most basic practice is to chant "Amituofo" and then dedicate the merits from the practice to all beings. The dedication is as follows:

May the merits and virtues accrued from this work
adorn the Buddha’s Pure Land,
repay the Four Kindnesses above,
and relieve the sufferings of those
in the Three Paths below.

May those who see or hear of this
bring forth the Bodhi mind,
and at the end of this life,
be born together
in the Land of Ultimate Bliss.

With the line "relieve the suffering of those in the Three Paths below" we are dedicating the merits to all who suffer in the Desire Realm, the Form Realm, and the Formless Realm. So by saying this line, we are dedicating our merits to all who are ill.

Personally, after this dedication, I add my mother's and father's names saying "May my mother, Evelyn Bolender, and my father, Milton Bolender, be reborn as soon as possible into the Western Pure Land to end suffering and attain happiness." At our centers, the names of the deceased and the relationship to the deceased are written on paper plaques (paiwei) and placed on a special offering table. Those who are not Pure Land Buddhists could simply say the names, the relationship, and the wish that the deceased end suffering and attain happiness.

For those who wish to do a more comprehensive chanting session, an example of a session is on page 48-49 of In One Lifetime: Pure Land Buddhism.  You can obtain a pdf file of the book by clicking on the title. If you wish a hard copy of the book, please contact the Amitabha Buddhist Society of USA or the Amitabha Buddhist Library in Chicago.

A Choice I Make Every Day

 

The following is an email I received from a woman who has now been practicing Pure Land Buddhism for a year. With her permission, I would like to share it with you.

This is my one year anniversary story of being a part of an Amitabha Buddhist society. One day a friend saw an article about the society in a local magazine. She asked me if I would be interested in attending. I said “of course”, I would love to try something like that. Well, I have not been the same since. My first day, I was overwhelmingly greeted with acceptance and joy. I had someone stand next to me sounding out the correct way to pronounce; I was excited.

In the one year’s time of chanting weekly, I was challenged to meet my fear, my anxiety, and my frustration, by chanting “Amitabha”. Many challenges occurred and many obstacles came, and I continued to chant “Amitabha”. In December I took my vow and studied very hard. I read many books and I continued to chant. All the fear, anxiety, and frustration I once felt no longer hold a death grip on me. My heart is full of joy and gratitude. I understand to just chant “Amitabha” works. Over time I figured out I had to practice at home by myself and teach myself to chant "Amitabha" on a regular basis. 

It is a choice I make every day.

Practice on the Meditation Cushion and Throughout the Day

Question: It seems that I never have the time to do my Buddhist practice. I work, look after my young children, try to help my parents, feel it is important to spend time with my husband, and on and on the list goes. I feel guilty about not having the time for practice but don't have free time like monks and nuns. What should I do?

Response: It seems that everyone I speak with has more to do than time to do it in. People often think that as monastics, we have lots of time to sit under a tree in meditation because we have little else to do. But in today's world, monastics have constant deadlines to meet and much work to do. So I do understand your feeling that everyday life can feel overwhelming and the time to practice is very difficult to find.

Somehow, we are unable to find time for what feels more like a responsibility but usually find the time to do what we want to. We always seem to be able to find the time to talk on the phone with friends, watch television, or read that new best-seller.

I find the best time for formal practice is in the morning—before I turn on the computer and begin work. At least mentally, and ideally physically, put your meditation cushion between your bedroom and the kitchen (or in my case, my workspace). Stop off and spend some time along the way.

Also, practice is not just sitting on that cushion. Practice is being patient when your child spills something. Practice is not getting angry with a co-worker who didn’t meet their deadline causing you to have to work even harder. Practice is not snapping back at someone who was rude, but trying to understand why they became upset in the first place.

Practice is taking the teachings and using them to become a more thoughtful, happier person by sitting on the cushion, if just for ten or fifteen minutes, and carrying the resultant sense of calm with you the rest of the day.