FWBO Features

Rijumati’s travels: Parts 1-2-3-4-5-6-7

2008-10-10T14:32:00.000-07:00

FWBO News is pleased to present these excerpts from the travel diaries of Rijumati.

For nearly a year now he has been travelling around the world, almost entirely avoiding air travel.

Rijumati is an Order Member who for many years was one of the pillars of Windhorse:Evolution, the FWBO’s large Right Livelihood business in Cambridge, UK. The Western Buddhist Order has always contained people following a very wide variety of lifestyles, and they have always been able to move freely between them, based on the Sangharakshita’s dictum “commitment is primary, lifestyle secondary”. Rijumati’s diary is living proof of this. Some of the letters were originally published in Shabda, the Order’s monthly journal.

Enjoy…

Part VII - in the footsteps of Kobo Daishi

Part VI - Japan: Hiroshima, Basho, and the volcano

Part V - a pilgrimage to the Japanese teachers on the Refuge Tree

Part IV - Central Asia, and beyond…

Part III - from Nepal into Russia

Part II - India: TBMSG and Bodh Gaya

Part 1 - setting out

Munisha on Young People and Buddhist Ethics: Tradition and Commonsense

2008-09-12T06:02:00.000-07:00

A year on from an assignment working for Bhutan's Ministry of Education, the FWBO's Clear Vision Trust (www.clear-vision.org) has just returned from an international conference on Buddhism and Ethics, held in Thailand near Bangkok.As education officer at Clear Vision, Munisha was invited to give a presentation on 'Using Video to teach Buddhist Ethics in British Schools' at the first conference of the International Association of Buddhist Universities (IABU). (The FWBO's Dharmapala College is a member of the IABU).

Munisha's paper, titled 'Young People and Buddhist Ethics: Tradition and Commonsense' is available on FWBO Features here. This is a longer, written version of her PowerPoint presentation to the conference, which included video clips.

She writes:

“It was extraordinary to be part of a gathering of up to 3000 Buddhists, mostly Asian monks, as well as nuns and a small number of westerners. I went with Mokshapriya and Aparajita. Among the robes of yellow or brown or stylish grey linen, our kesas attracted a fair amount of interest, as did our display of Clear Vision DVDs for schools. The Dharma is not yet available in such formats in Asia!

"My strong sense is that young people of Buddhist background are losing touch with Buddhism, both in the UK and across Asia. You have to wonder whether there will be another generation of lay Buddhists as young people often know nothing of the Dharma and are less and less interested in tradition. To be fair, there were conference presentations from people who are running Dharma activities for young people in Burma, Thailand and Sri Lanka, one or two of them innovative, but still I suspect they are exceptions.Meanwhile, some very good teaching of Buddhism for young people is being delivered in British schools, by and for non-Buddhists, using modern teaching materials such as Clear Vision's. If Asian young people are to be interested in the Dharma, I'd argue Asian Buddhists could benefit from seeing what we are doing here in Britain.

"We went hoping to spread the word about our materials and invite sponsorship and dana. It was a bonus to meet Asian Buddhists who approached us to tell us of their respect for Bhante and the importance of his work for the future of Buddhism. Then there's my favourite souvenir from the conference pack: a mustard yellow umbrella with a limb of the Eightfold Path printed on each section!”

Click here to see what Clear Vision has to offer school teachers and students.

Smritiratna's letter from the Forest: Insight retreats in Scotland

2008-09-10T06:56:00.000-07:00

Smritiratna is an Order Member who has for some years now been a resident teacher at the FWBO’s Dhanakosa Retreat Centre in Scotland. Between retreats, he lives in the woods as a hermit, and has written FWBO News a ‘Letter from the Forest’.

In it he describes his coming three-month retreat at Guhyaloka in Spain and his hopes for the ‘Stilling and Seeing Through’ insight retreats he will be leading on his return. If you would like to know more about these retreats, you could either read his long and detailed article (click here) or a shorter one by a retreatant (click here) or else try the websites of Dhanakosa or Vajraloka.

“Dear All,

“I am writing this at the window of the forest cabin where I spend much of my time these days, a mile from Dhanakosa Retreat Centre in Scotland. Looking up, a profusion of green leaves meets my gaze, thousands of grasses and ferns, spruces and larches, oaks and willows, birches and rowans, lichens and mosses. This rich variety arises in response to the rains that come so often here. Without the rains there would be only rock and sand as far as the eye could see. But the rains give life to the earth and green things flourish.

“This puts me in mind of the first teaching of the Buddha, the one celebrated by Dharma Day at the full moon of the Indian month Asalha (June/July). I believe the torrential rains of the Indian monsoon commence around mid-June. So this first outpouring of the Dharma teaching of the Buddha was accompanied by ‘the soft thunder of the rain on leaves’. It came to be known as the Dhamma-cakka-ppavattana Sutta, (the ‘Dhamma-wheel-set-rolling’). The new Buddha has sought out the five ascetics who had shunned him before. Now deeply moved by his appearance and the quality of his presence among them, the five open their hearts once more and their teacher expounds the Four Noble Truths and Noble Eightfold Path. Transcendental Insight arises first in Kondanna. The Truth is out, the Dharma Wheel set rolling, and, eight-spoked like the Eightfold Path, it has rolled down the centuries, rolled through the lives of generations of the Buddha’s disciples and is rolling still.

"Two years ago I spent the Autumn at Guhyaloka, Spain, on the Vihara retreat for Dharmacharis. We were in silence for ten weeks. As the basis of my daily practice, I chose this first Sutta of the Buddha, together with his second. Following the Eightfold Path as my system of practises, I cultivated vision and devotion, made efforts to maintain good moods, practised mindfulness and a range of meditations in accord with Bhante Sangharakshita’s system. Day and night I returned to the theme of impermanence, a pile of animal bones on my shrine, laid out like a skeleton at the feet of the Buddhas. Every day I sat before them in meditations – letting go the aggregates as best I could, and opening my heart to the Buddhas and All.

"This system proved effective so the following year, when I introduced insight meditations on the ‘Stilling and Seeing Through’ retreats at Dhanakosa, they were framed within the Noble Eightfold Path. Practised as a spiral path, you wheel around it over and over. Each new glimpse of the Vision sends a new ripple through devotion, speech, action, livelihood, effort, mindfulness, meditation, stirring new insights into the Vision that in turn send a new wave though the eight spokes or limbs of the Dharma life.

"By the time you read this I’ll be at Guhyaloka for another three month retreat. During the life of the Buddha, many of his disciples were forest renunciates for whom the annual Rains Retreat was regarded as an essential part of their practise. For nine months they’d wander from place to place, living the Dharma life in the open air, sharing the Dharma with the people. But for the three months of the monsoon rains, when the roads and paths were impassable, they would camp together in communities, dwelling in caves or temporary huts. These were the annual Rains Retreats. Inspired by their example, I plan to do a three month retreat every year from now on. This year at Guhyaloka seven Dharmacharis will attend for the whole three months while another nine will attend for one or two months.

"I’ll return by December, in time to lead another Stilling and Seeing Through retreat, and then another at Vajraloka Retreat Centre, Wales. These retreats assume prior knowledge of the mindfulness of breathing and metta bhavana, also a basic understanding of the Dharma and of the Sevenfold Puja. For the first few days we’ll be settling and softening, in mindfulness and metta. Then we’ll contemplate the natural elements and spend a day on ‘transience and true refuge’ before returning to ‘visionary devotion’ at the end. If you would like to know more about these retreats, you could either read my long and detailed article (click here) or Joe’s short one (click here) or else try the websites of Dhanakosa or Vajraloka.

"Bye for now!

"Yours truly,Smritiratna.

Environmental Audit and action plan at the London Buddhist Centre

2008-09-01T07:21:00.000-07:00

In 2007 the FWBO's London Buddhist Centre celebrated the year of Amoghasiddhi, the Green Buddha of Action and Fearlessness.

As part of this they focussed attention on taking practical action to address environmental issues, exploring how Buddhism teaches us to lead a more simple and less wasteful life, more in harmony with the environment.

Their report, titled 'Environmental Review of the London Buddhist Centre', can be read in full here. Thanks to the LBC for permission to reproduce it.

The report comes from a series of ‘environmental audits’ which were carried out in and around the LBC’s ‘Buddhist Village’, covering many of the businesses and communities that are linked to the LBC as well as the centre itself. It summarises the main findings of those environmental audits – all of which include commitments to action, whether reducing direct environmental impacts, working in partnership with others on environmental issues, or by raising awareness of why and how we can all take action on the environment.

Going on retreat - for three years!

2008-06-08T01:32:00.000-07:00

Vessantara was ordained into the Western Buddhist Order in 1974, and is well-known as the author of ‘Meeting the Buddhas’ as well as a number of other books. He’s led a long and active life in the Order, travelling and speaking widely – see for instance his talks on Free Buddhist Audio for a sample…

But later this month, he’s off – on a three-year retreat! Most people involved in the FWBO have done at least some retreats – often planned using our website GoingOnRetreat.com – but not many have done one lasting three whole years – and it could be longer. Not surprisingly he’s been asked many questions about it – and here are some of his answers.

FWBO News wishes him, and his partner Vijayamala, all good wishes as they embark on this major undertaking.

Vessantara says -

"I'm planning to do a long retreat, starting at the end of June. Here are answers to some of the questions I've often been asked about it:

Where are you going to do your retreat?

"In southern-central France in the Auvergne. It's about 2,000 feet (700 metres) up in the Massif Central. From near where we're staying you can see the range of mountains that includes the Puy de Dome. You can also see the golden roof of the temple of the Karma Kagyu Tibetan Buddhist centre founded by the late Gendun Rinpoche.

Why aren't you doing it at an FWBO place like Guhyaloka or Sudarshanaloka?

"I would be very happy to do so, except for one factor: I really want regular access to someone experienced who can guide my retreat. I have done quite a bit of solitary retreat over the years, as well as living at Vajraloka and Guhyaloka. Whilst they've been very useful, I've come to the conclusion that I would make much better progress with regular access to someone to help me sharpen up my practice, point out my blind spots and bad habits, and generally help me to 'steer to the deep'. So when Lama Lhundrup offered to help Order members who wanted to do long meditation retreat, I decided to take him up on his offer.

Who's Lama Lhundrup?

"He's a German-born senior disciple of Gendun Rinpoche, whom several Order members have got to know through meetings connected with the European Buddhist Union. Last year Subhuti and Dhammarati invited him to give a seminar on Gampopa's Jewel Ornament of Liberation at Madhyamaloka, where I met him. Lama Lhundrup's main work is guiding people in long retreats, so we talked a lot to him about meditation and retreat. Those discussions stirred up the aspiration to do a long retreat that I have felt for many years, but the conditions have never been right.

Why are you doing the retreat with Vijayamala?

"I'd originally thought of doing a long solitary retreat. When I talked to Vijayamala she was okay with that, but said it was something that she would also very much like to do. Lama Lhundrup's experience is that westerners can become too isolated and self-absorbed in solitary retreat, so all their long retreats are in groups. He himself did a three-year retreat with his wife. Then they both took monastic ordination and did further retreats in single-sex groups. (He has done nine years of retreat altogether.) That experience of practising with his wife, which he felt was very effective, means that he is open to helping couples, provided they are mature enough, to practise together.

When will you start your long retreat?

"We'll leave the UK at the end of June, and spend a couple of weeks or so getting settled in. Then we'll find an auspicious date to start. (The 18th of July is Full Moon.)

How long are you planning to do?

"Lama Lhundrup says that in the time-limited three-year group retreats that he guides, people often spend a year getting into it, a year deeply immersed, and then a year anticipating the end of the retreat. So he advised me to leave the finishing date of the retreat open. In that way it becomes just how you are living your life. So I'm telling people that I'm planning to do 'at least three years'.

How will you spend your time?

"On the trial retreat I got up at 5am and did ten or eleven hours' meditation a day in four sessions, as well as a small amount of Dharma study. I also did Hatha Yoga and went running every second day. I imagine my programme for the long retreat will be similar to that for most of the time.

What practices will you be doing?

"I'll carry on with the same practices that I do now. I'll focus mainly on visualization, as well as some formless meditation. On the trial retreat I concentrated on Vajrasattva practice, which felt like a good preparation for a long retreat. I did getting on for 40, 000 mantras. When I lived at Vajraloka in 1980 I did the whole Vajrasattva foundation yoga with 100, 000 mantras. It felt very different this time, less concerned with purifying specific negative karmas, more just with tendencies towards unskilfulness. As the weeks went by I relaxed more and more, and the light-nectar felt less of a purification and more just a blessing.

Will you leave the retreat at all?

"Apart from going for walks or runs in the local area, I don't plan to leave the place at all. As my parents both died in the early 1990s, I'm in the fortunate position of not having any dependents. I have two brothers, but if anything happened to them there are others who can look after them. If one of them died I wouldn't come back for the funeral. I would stay in retreat and dedicate practice for their benefit. I'm most likely to have to go out to see a dentist, as I'm a bit long in the tooth these days and I don't expect they will happily last three years without giving me any trouble.

Are you excited?

"No, I don't feel excited, just deeply contented at the prospect of being able to devote myself to the Dharma undistractedly.

What do you hope to get from it?

"I don't like that question very much. I don't like to anticipate what will happen, and I'm not doing the retreat in order to gain anything. I hope to strengthen the foundations of my practice, to come closer to the Buddhas and Bodhisattvas, and to become more of a resource for other people. Years ago I gave a short talk on 'Solitary Retreat' at Padmaloka as part of a symposium chaired by Bhante. At the end he got up and said "That was a very good talk by Vessantara. There was only one thing that he didn't say, and that is that one goes away on retreat in order to come back." That was a very strong teaching for me. I had given a talk about retreat without setting it in the whole context of the Bodhisattva ideal. These days, thankfully, I am rather more in touch with the Bodhisattva spirit. So I hope that from the retreat I will gain experience of meditation and long retreats that I can come back and share with other interested Order members.

Will you be receiving letters?

"No, sorry. On a retreat as intensive as this correspondence and news of the outside world very easily become a distraction. Lhundrup particularly counselled me against keeping in contact with people for whom I fulfilled a particular role - such as private preceptor or kalyana mitra. In a way the whole purpose of the retreat is to let go of being 'someone', having a particular identity. Correspondence with people in relation to whom I have a particular position can easily interfere with that process.

"Of course I shall be thinking of people I've ordained, and all those to whom I'm KM as well as all my friends in the FWBO. (I currently make a practice of calling to mind in meditation all the men I've ordained and reciting mantras for them.) I won't be reading Shabda, or Sanghajala, or FWBO News,but Maitrivajri has kindly agreed to let me and Vijayamala know if Order members are seriously ill or die, so we can dedicate some practice to them. I will also write to Shabda from time to time, to let people know how I'm getting on.

"My experience of doing solitary retreats is that I feel very close to people - strongly linked to them on a mental level. So I shall be thinking of Bhante and all of you, will be wishing you all well with your lives and Dharma practice. Although there will be nothing obvious to show for it, I shall still be deeply involved in the life of the FWBO".

Vessantara's website is at www.vessantara.net

NVC in the FWBO: Heart-to-Heart Communication

2008-05-08T01:13:00.000-07:00

by Shantigarbha

Out beyond ideas of wrongdoing and rightdoing,
there is a field. I’ll meet you there.
- Rumi

An unlikely ‘guru’
The first time I heard Marshall Rosenberg talk was in London in 2002. I’d heard about him and Nonviolent Communication (NVC) from Prasannasiddhi (another member of the Western Buddhist Order), who first got interested and became a trainer. I’d also heard Sangharakshita, the founder of the Western Buddhist Order mentioning Prasannasiddhi and the work he was doing in the Order.

So there I was, in a crowd of around 400 people, waiting for the talk to start. There were several people standing at the front, to the side of the stage, talking. One of them was a man who looked to be in his late sixties, dressed casually, even a bit scruffily, and with what I would describe as a gloomy, even ‘hangdog’ expression. I hadn’t yet seen a photo of Marshall Rosenberg at that time, so if someone had turned to me and said, ‘Look, there he is, he’s the one who’s going to give the talk.’ I would have said, ‘No way!’

Anyway, after a while the man with the hangdog expression went up onto the stage, sat down, and started talking about Nonviolent Communication. Why was I there? Well, there was the obvious connection with Buddhism, with the First Precept of ‘ahimsa’ – Nonviolence. Marshall traced his use of the term to Martin Luther King’s ‘Nonviolent Direct Action’ and further back to Gandhi’s programme of Nonviolent Action. He said that NVC was not just about personal development and interpersonal conflicts – it was also about radical social change. I was happy to hear this, as I’d lost hope of integrating these two burning interests in my present life. I must confess I don’t remember understanding much else of what he said that evening. It sounded plausible, but there was nothing I could put my finger on and say, ‘Ah, yes, that’s it!’

When it first clicked
I had to wait for that moment until I’d done a Foundation Training with Gina Lawrie and was on a Deepening plus Empathy training with Bridget Belgrave (I mention these two UK trainers because, apart from Marshall, they have supported me the most in my understanding and practice of NVC). On this second training, Bridget was coaching a participant to deepening their understanding and skills in a life crisis. With a shock, I realised that this was where I came in – coaching people. I told myself that she was doing what I was already doing with friends and other Buddhists. The only difference was that she was taking 30-40 minutes to do what took me several months. And all the time she supported them so profoundly, they remained in control of their life, their inner world. So this was my ‘Aha!’ moment, watching Bridget coaching and identifying with her role and the profoundly sensitive way she contributed to life. I realised that if I learned her skills and used them, I would enjoy a profoundly meaningful life.

To my disappointment, I couldn’t just step into Bridget’s shoes. It took me a couple of years to find my feet with these skills, and during that time I went through a lot of heartache and inner growth! I needed to get in touch with my own needs before I could support others to get in touch with theirs. I also needed to learn some facilitation skills that weren’t apparent to me that first time, when Bridget was demonstrating them so effortlessly!

The language of disconnection
So now, when I’m introducing NVC to a new group of people, what do I say? I start by saying, ‘Conflict is inevitable, violence isn’t’. What I mean by this is that I find it difficult to imagine a world where there is no conflict – conflict that arises from differences in temperament, outlook, religious beliefs, worldviews. However, I can imagine a world in which we find solutions to conflict, which don’t involve violence. (By the way, there doesn’t need to be a conflict present for NVC to work – it can deepen connections and understanding even when no conflict is present).

Here’s the situation: there are two people living together (they could be partners, could be community members). They are both standing in the kitchen. They are both in pain. One says to the other, “You’re a slob!” The other replies, “You’re OCD!” (Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder – this translates as ‘You’re obsessed with how clean the kitchen is!’) So they tell each other their thoughts about what the other one is – they use labels: ‘slob’, ‘OCD’.

Hearing these labels, the pain in both of them increases, and the first one says, “You’re a bad person to live with.” The other replies, “You’re wrong about that.” So they make judgements of each other in terms of ‘good, bad, right and wrong’.

The pain increases and they start overtly blaming each other and imposing their judgement: “It’s your fault – you should be more mindful!” And the other replies, “This is your problem – own it! You should go and see a psychiatrist about it.”

Hearing the ‘shoulds’, the pain on both sides increases and they switch to the language of no choice, “You can’t carry on like this. It’s against the rules.” The other replies, “You can’t talk to me like that – it’s not allowed.”

And to finish they resort to demands (threats) to make their point, “If you don’t tidy up the kitchen this evening then you’ve got to leave!” And the other replies, “If you don’t back off right now, I will!”

Does this sound familiar? In my experience, this is the kind of language that comes out of people’s mouths when they are in conflict. I learned this language as I was growing up – at school, at home, in the various jobs I’ve had. It’s the kind of language that comes out of my mouth when I’m in pain – when I’m trying to express my pain to another person. And the sad thing is, it doesn’t serve me – it doesn’t get me the understanding and co-operation that I’m looking for when I’m in pain. In fact, it does the opposite – it increases the pain and creates disconnection.

So I call labels, judgements, blame, imposing my judgement, no choice and demands, the Language of Disconnection. And I’m curious what comes up for you when you hear this language? Sadness? Anger? Fear of losing connection? Wondering how to apply the speech precepts in this situation?

Heart-to-heart Connection
I’m glad to say that’s not the end of the story. I’m interested in what happens when we get connected at a heart level. There are many ways to do this, and NVC is one of them. So how do I go about creating a heart-to-heart connection – to find out what is in the heart of these two people? The way that I’ve found to be most effective is to get in touch with the basic needs on both sides – the ‘good reasons’ why they are acting and speaking in this way. And these ‘needs’ are distinct from any particular strategy that the two of them might have for fulfilling them.

What’s important to the first person, the one who said, ‘You’re a slob!’? People usually guess: a sense of order, care, mindfulness or awareness, perhaps health.

And what’s important to the other person, the one who said, ‘You’re OCD!’? People usually guess: a sense of perspective and self-responsibility, respect, autonomy, perhaps ease.

This is what I mean by creating a heart-to-heart connection: finding out what is important (what are the needs) on both sides. People usually have an “Aha!” moment just looking at these two lists of needs – realising that there are needs on both sides. OK, so maybe it’s easier for them to identify with one side or the other, but they get a glimpse that both sides are needing something, are longing for something that would enrich their lives.

I’ve found that when people are connected at this level, whether they live in a Buddhist community in the UK, the slums of India, war-torn Sri Lanka, or a US prison, they are only a short distance from finding a solution that honours the needs on both sides, where no-one gives in or gives up.

The intention of NVC
And for me this is the intention of NVC – that I act in this way because I have the intention to create the kind of connection that will lead to everybody’s needs being valued and met. And this for me is the deepest connection with the Dharma – this compassionate intention to connect with a view to enriching the lives of all beings.

List of life-enriching ‘needs’
So what other ‘needs’ would you add to this? What enriches your life? We’ve already got:

* a sense of order
* care for their living space
* mindfulness / awareness
* health
* a sense of perspective
* self-responsibility
* respect
* autonomy
* ease

What would you add to this list? Here’s what I would add:

* love
* honesty
* empathy
* freedom / release
* wholeness
* beauty
* peace
* harmony
* growth
* freshness
* vitality
* to contribute to life
* meaning / inspiration / purpose
* to be valued
* food, air, water, shelter, rest, movement
* safety
* control / choice
* power (empowerment)
* understanding (to understand and to be understood)
* support and encouragement
* consideration
* connection
* closeness
* to matter and belong
* recognition
* self-acceptance
* creativity
* play
* spontaneity / authenticity
* celebrating dreams/goals/values
* mourning (mourning lost dreams and lost lives)

Reaching out to humanity
When I’m doing this with a group of people, I usually ask them at this point: ‘Are there any ‘needs’ on this list that you haven’t been in touch with in the course of your life?’ I haven’t yet heard someone say ‘No’. Then I ask: ‘Do you think that there is anybody in this room who hasn’t been in touch with all of these at some point in their life?’ Again, I haven’t yet heard someone say ‘No’. Then I ask them to reach out in their imaginations to the people in the local town, the country, the continent, the entire world, and ask the same question, ‘Do you imagine that there is a human being who hasn’t been in touch with all of these at some point in their life?’ There’s usually a pause while people do this for themselves. I haven’t yet heard someone say ‘No’.

It’s at these moments that I quiver with a sense of common humanity – a sense of deeply belonging to the human race.

Needs and Enlightenment
I’ve heard some practising Buddhists who say that talking about ‘needs’ won’t get you to Enlightenment. They say that needs are mundane, and don’t lead to the ‘Transcendental’. I deeply appreciate their concern for complete freedom, the ‘inconceivable emancipation’ for the benefit of all beings, and their reluctance to accept a language that might fall short of this.

For myself, I’m confident in my intention: creating the kind of connection that leads to everybody’s needs being met (or ‘Going for the connection, hanging loose to the outcome’). It’s already brought unimagined richness into my life.

Through staying with this intention, I’ve become more present to myself and others. I’ve healed painful memories relating to my childhood. I’ve become healthier and stronger physically. I’ve supported hundreds of people to go more deeply into what’s important to them. I’ve found a way to contribute to life that gives me meaning and purpose, and supports me in other ways. I find that I’m not drawn to the idea of ‘Attainment’ or ‘Insight’ as much as I was in my teens, twenties and thirties. I seem to have found something in the present moment that is more nourishing, more fruitful than the ideas I had about these things. I’m still working on the language and skills to support my intention.

However, I do have two clarifications to offer:

* ‘Getting your needs met’ doesn’t just mean getting them met ‘externally’ – from outside. ‘Needs’ can also be met ‘internally’ by getting in touch with the particular living ‘energy’ of that need.
* My ‘need’ for food doesn’t get met fully by having food in my stomach. As I am interconnected with all beings at the level of basic needs, my ‘need’ for food is only met when all beings have food in their stomachs. Nobody’s needs get met unless everybody’s needs get met.

For ten years before I came across NVC, I was the co-publisher and co-editor of Urthona – the Buddhist arts magazine. For those ten years, and many before it, the Arts were the love of my life: a deep source of inspiration and connection. Now I find that I can get those things freshly and bountifully through my connection with myself and the people around me.

Perhaps I’ve just matured with the passing of time. I like to think that practising and teaching NVC has contributed. I don’t know whether exploring and practising NVC will take me ‘all the way to Enlightenment’.I am hopeful that exploring NVC will help me and others who follow the Dharma to communicate more clearly, more creatively and more compassionately.

About the author
Shantigarbha is currently writing a book on Buddhism and NVC, to be published in 2009.

He grew up in Croydon (UK) and studied Latin, Greek & Philosophy at Oxford University. He’s had a variety of jobs including charity fundraising for the Karuna Trust, managing Dharmachakra, working in a psychiatric hospital, working as the Sales and Marketing manager of a software company, publisher and co-editor of Urthona, the Buddhist arts magazine. While he was managing Dharmachakra, he co-wrote an audio-version of the life of the Buddha, which has sold more than five thousand copies. In 1996 he was ordained into the Western Buddhist Order and given the name ‘Shantigarbha’, which means ‘Seed of Peace’.

He’s been practising Nonviolent Communication for the last six years, teaching it for the last five, and been certified with the Centre for Nonviolent Communication since 2004. He works in the UK, the USA, India and Sri Lanka offering trainings and retreats for Buddhists; public workshops including transforming anger, healing retreats and Year Programmes; trainer development groups; training for prison inmates; training days for teachers and marriage guidance counsellors. He spends time each year running retreats for ‘Dalit’ Buddhists and others in India and working with mixed groups of Sinhalese and Tamils in war-torn Sri Lanka.

He has been a Chapter Convenor and Regional Order Convenor for men in the Eastern Region of the UK, and mediates as a member of the Order Mediators’ Pool (see below for contact details).

He has appeared on Sri Lankan TV to talk about NVC, and writes regular columns on NVC in two UK magazines: Juno (a natural approach to family life) and Funky Raw (raw food).

For more information about Shantigarbha, his trainings in the UK, India and the USA, and his writings, visit www.seedofpeace.org/

Resources
www.cnvc.org/ – the Centre for Nonviolent Communication: information, articles, email newsgroups and international trainings
www.nvc-uk.info/ – NVC Trainers in the UK
www.life-resources-shop.com – NVC books etc. online in the UK
Order Mediation Pool: (mediators with various skill-sets including NVC) Contact Dharmottara: dharmottara[at]ntlworld.com (please replace [at] with the @ sign)

Other members of the FWBO who are sharing NVC (visit www.cnvc.org for contact information where none is given):

* Abhayakirti (UK)
* Aniruddha (India, certified trainer):www.connect-2-life.com/
* Cittapala (UK) www.cittapala.org
* Jayaraja (UK)
* Kumarjeev (India, certified trainer)
* Locana (UK, certified trainer): www.life-at-work.co.uk
* Nuria Murcia (UK and Spain)
* Paul Crosland (UK): www.freelend.org/
* Prasannasiddhi (UK, certified trainer): www.nvc-resolutions.co.uk/
* Sinhaketu (Ireland): www.evolution-uk.org/
* Shona Cameron (UK, certified trainer): www.withunity.co.uk
* Sucimanasa (Germany and the UK)
* Sue Beardon (UK)
* Vajraghanta (UK)
* Vajrasara (UK)

New Buddhists in Hungary: two people's stories

2008-03-08T00:56:00.000-08:00

FWBO News is pleased to present interviews with two new Buddhists, both unusual in that they are Hungarian gypsies, part of a growing Buddhist sangha within the gypsy community.

To give a little background, a little over four years ago a group of Hungarian gypsies made contact with Subhuti and others from the FWBO. They had heard about the work of Dr. Ambedkar and had been deeply impressed by what they had read of his work and the suffering of his people, the Dalits, or ‘untouchables’ of India. They had in fact come to feel a deep connection with the Dalits of India, even, to see themselves as the Dalits of Europe and Dr Ambedkar’s message of social transformation as being deeply relevant for them.

Since that time Subhuti and others have made many visits to Hungary, most recently earlier this month, and some of Hungary’s new Buddhists have visited both the UK and India.

In his latest visit to Hungary Subhuti interviewed two of our Mitras there, covering a wide range of topics including their personal histories, the general situation of Gypsies in Hungary and how they came to connect with the Dharma and the FWBO. Below is a short excerpt from Janos' story -

“After one month in India, I came back convinced that I was a Buddhist. On a very big retreat in Nagpur for 5,000 people, in January 2006, I had become a Dhammamitra, publicly declaring that the Buddha is my teacher, that I will practise the five precepts, and that TBMSG/FWBO is my spiritual family.

“But back here in Hungary, there were only Hungarian Buddhists, and I could not identify with them. However, people from the Western Buddhist Order/Trailokya Bauddha Mahasangha, both Europeans and Indians, came to stay with us and they were completely different from the Hungarian Buddhists.

“It took me some time to work out what kind of a movement the FWBO in Europe is, because these were white intellectual people who took to Buddhism for reasons that I could not really understand. But they were different from the Hungarian Buddhists I had met, because they were genuinely concerned with social questions. When they come to Hungary they spend time with us, which Hungarian Buddhists don't do. They have become our friends and the connection between us is very good.”

Click here to read Janos' s interview in full, in which he tells in some detail of the conditions of life for gypsies in Hungary and how he came to become a Buddhist.

The second, with Benu, speaks of his personal struggles for a better life. He begins by saying -

"My name is Istvan Lazi. My nickname is Benu. I was born at
Kazincbarcika, in Northern Hungary, in 1987. My family are gypsies. It
is difficult for non-gypsies to understand what that really means. Most
non-gypsies think it is a matter of race or skin colour, but it is not. To be
a gypsy is a belonging. It is to be part of a community where everyone
knows, 'We are gypsies'..." Click here to read the full interview.

If you would like to know more about the FWBO’s work in Hungary or to contribute to it in any way, please contact subhuti.secretary@gmail.com.

You can read previous FWBO News stories about the Hungarian gypsy Buddhists here or on the Dharmaduta students' blog here .

Community, Nature and Buddha Nature

2008-02-14T14:26:00.000-08:00

Based on a talk by Kamalashila given in the Dharma Parlour, Buddhafield Festival July 2006

What does Buddhism mean by ‘nature’, and does the Buddhist vision of Awakening have anything to do with it? If it does, what is our relationship, as a Sangha, to the Buddhist vision of nature?

I recently became interested in starting some kind of large, land-based community. The idea arose after an eighteen-month retreat in a canvas dome above a Welsh valley. It was the most deeply inspiring time of my life, and three years later, I am still assimilating it. I was alone throughout, and lived simply, burning wood and drawing water from the hillside. I discovered something that thrilled me to the core: that being close to nature enlivens my understanding of Dharma like nothing else does. Now I want to live like that with others. I would like to help create a Dharma based ecological vision for the FWBO.

When I started my retreat, I was not at all interested in ecology. I was in the countryside simply to escape the distraction of other human beings. I expected insights and realisations to arise not from nature, but from meditation. Yes, I would learn how to light fires, tie knots, chop wood, and carry water, but I never thought natural things themselves would give insights into the Dharma. Yet in the event, every single insight came from these things, bestowed by the elements earth, water, fire, wind, space, and awareness. I had many deeply unsettling experiences, and they awakened my whole relationship to nature.

In other talks, I have mentioned the more colourful events that sparked off insights: the night I got totally lost in the fog, and the time I slipped knee deep into my shit pit. However, one experience grew to become a constant companion. I can describe it as a deeper relationship with nature in which the Dharma, the nature of existence, was more visible than usual. This relationship, and the experiences that arose out of it, gradually undermined my habitual pride and rigidity. I experienced an ongoing collapse of my idea of myself, and of the world I thought I lived in. That happened because in that situation, Nature is so uncompromising. If I needed to urinate or get water and firewood, I was forced go outside, whatever the weather or my state of health. I am in my fifties. I began my retreat in December. Over those freezing winter months, whenever I felt very cold or very ill, I longed for the convenience of piped water and mains electricity. I became impatient with practical matters, cursing the need to tie a knot or split logs. Eventually however, my tetchiness and anxiety about the realities around me dissolved. I began feeling at home in it all. I began to love it. I saw increasingly that my resistance to painful experience, the pain itself, and the person experiencing it, were all natural, unfixed realities that could teach me about the Dharma if only I could be open and curious about their nature. I finally came to inhabit my environmental niche, in accordance with my Dharma training. From that point, I came into a creative Dharma relationship with every local plant and animal.

Now it is over, I want to explore this more, with others. I imagine us establishing somewhere large, land based, unkempt, and diverse. It would perhaps be a bit like a mini Buddhafield festival, with writers, artists, hippies, yogis, yoginis, Buddhafield workers, Dharma teachers, activists, ecologists, poets, playwrights, mechanics, accountants, musicians, dogs, cats, and parrots, all living together. This great diversity of living beings would share their lives as single individuals, couples, and families. There could be women’s and men’s communities within the overall community. I suppose most of us would live in converted barns and farmhouses, but I would also like to see trucks, caravans, yurts, and benders.

I think such a community could develop a dharma philosophy based on collective experience. I imagine that would be lively, controversial in some respects, yet helpful and attractive. Indeed, it ought to attract visitors. People could come and attend retreats, meditate, and explore the Dharma from the point of view of nature and deep ecology. Within the community, we could help one another live harmoniously, raise a livelihood and maybe some children, teach Dharma, and work on ourselves individually. Over the years, Buddhafield have introduced thousands of ecological minded people to the Dharma. If large numbers of us actually lived together, we could take that much further, and develop an approach to Dharma that really explores and co-operates with nature.

My retreat helped me imagine how nature must have informed the Buddha’s own feeling for the Dharma. I even wonder if this understanding is only available to those practising, in some way, in a natural environment. It is a matter of actual connection. Certainly, that kind of sensibility has been in Buddhist teaching right from the beginning. The Buddha chose to live in nature even though, after his Awakening, he could easily have returned to a conventional indoor life and made that his basis for teaching. No one would have thought any the less of him. His decision to remain in the wild indicates that it supported his realisation better. Certainly, after his awakening, the Buddha became as considerate of the needs of non-human beings and plants as his own kind. He taught his disciples how to cultivate love for snakes and other fear-inspiring creatures. His instructions were abundant with examples drawn from practical experience in the wild. And his central teaching of vipashyana is a revelation of the nature of things, of the vastness and profundity of Nature as it is beyond all concepts of space, time, location, and relationship. Yet we can apply this profound revelation right here in the so-called real world, through ethics, love, and helpful activity.

A new, nature-based approach to Dharma will need considerable articulating. As well as living in nature with mindfulness and curiosity, we need to talk about the experience, study others’ writings on it, reflect on it, write, and argue endlessly. Discussion and comparison help us deepen our Dharma relationships. Obviously, we also need to work, and keep our personal practice alive. Nevertheless, relationships are the natural world; nature is an infinite field of inseparable, total relationship. Awakening to reality must involve inquiring into the meaning of relationship. We each have a personal history that is unique, and which we cannot alter. The connections we have made with others are inescapable; we reinforce them with every meeting, thought, and decision. As Dharma followers, we also have inescapable connections with the Buddha, through the tradition of practice that he founded. These connections are all very much alive; as I also discovered on my retreat, our waking mind, and our dreams, are populated by a universe of relationships.

Because ecological awareness is about relationship, the ideal eco-dharma community would include families and sexual partners – and, of course, many single individuals. Obviously, it would also be excellent for monastic or single-sex communities to cultivate an ecological ethos;[1] but a mixed-sex environment reflects the whole of life, and for certain individuals such as myself, offers stirring material for reflection on the nature of things. There are socio-historical arguments for this, too. For approaching forty years, despite the fact that there are many families in the FWBO, almost every FWBO community has been single-sex. Most of us have partners, so why do we prefer living single so much of the time? This obviously has a lot do with the lack of mixed community opportunities, but that itself is rooted in circumstance.
A tradition of single-sex activities has nourished the F/WBO Sangha since the early 70s. Since the Western Buddhist Order is non-monastic, single sex situations have provided our main setting for intensive dharma practice. There the young and unattached, especially, enjoy a safe haven, where they can practise less distracted by the powerful forces of affairs and relationships. However, the system has proved unsustainable in the last decade. Many seasoned practitioners have left their community to live alone or with a partner. Why is this? For one thing, single sex communities are often geared to the needs of newer and younger people, and so can become less rewarding for the more experienced. Moreover, single-sex environments are not automatically friendly places, despite the standard rationale, i.e. that the absence of the opposite sex relaxes emotional inhibitions, particularly in men, thus fostering friendship. That rationale works, in my experience, and I believe it does for many women too. I have personally benefited tremendously from my time in single sex communities and would do most of it all over again. However, long-term experience shows that there is something important missing. Many have had to face the disappointment of realising that their home over the last ten years is actually rather cold and uninspiring. It is difficult to leave when one has invested so much hope and energy, knowing that outside the mainstream Sangha one may encounter stigma, loss of Sangha contact, and isolation. Yet for many, leaving has become a spiritual necessity.

It is a shame so many people have undergone such conflict, when couples and families could very easily found Dharma practice communities. At first sight, it seems amazing that there are none in the FWBO. However, family and sexual ties do involve strong attachment, and it can take considerable collective experience to manage these within a larger group. There were some spectacular failures in religious communes, for example, in the 80s. Buddhist organisations other than the FWBO, such as Thich Nhat Hanh’s Order of Interbeing, have reportedly found mixed communities harder to establish. Yet it can be done. No doubt it helps when a trusted teacher lives close by; I think of Dhardo Rinpoche, Sangharakshita’s friend and teacher in 1950s, whose community in Kalimpong included a large school for Tibetan refugee children.

It seems clear there is a need, and that various forms of mixed community living will soon be upon us. It is to our advantage that our formative years taught us so much about community dynamics. We are so familiar with that opposition between the ideal of ‘spiritual community’ and the tendency to fall into ordinary ‘group’ patterns. Yes, ideally, each member of a spiritual community consciously works on him or herself. They reflect, meditate, practise the precepts, and thereby come to understand essential truths about themselves. However, in a real life situation, people lose interest in such truths, cease to cultivate meditation and ethical principles, and become insensitive to the thoughts and feelings that are actually motivating their actions. This strengthens the tendency to ‘group’ behaviours, of which there is an infinite variety depending on each individual’s past conditioning. Typical examples are bullying, deference, favouritism, and competition. Behaviours like these arise within a group, when over-dependence on others obscures the general capacity to take initiative in communication. We may be unconsciously relating to a perceived ‘pecking order’. We might be over-compliant, unwittingly afraid of offending some authority, or have an unnoticed tendency to manipulate others who put us in that position. Everyone is subject to group patterns like these; but at least ideally, spiritual community is a space where each person has the freedom to discover them and learn to relate as an individual.

In practice, this is a challenge. In families and sexual partnerships especially, it is not easy to be so free. The attachment we feel towards a lover, parent, or child can enclose us in a kind of bubble. A couple beginning their relationship may look to one another for emotional support in such an exclusive way that they disengage from community life. Or parents, feeling intensely protective of their children, may keep them away from other community members. Group-based feelings are natural enough, yet they can undermine community life: when others react, we can start feeling isolated and unable to share. In our disconnected state of society, where increasing numbers live lonely and die alone, it seems worth our making the effort to form communities of all kinds, including the kind I am advocating. As Sangha members get older, the possibility of sharing with like-minded friends offers a richer quality of life, not to mention the mutual inspiration to practise. The alternative is hardly attractive: people living isolated from the Sangha in old age will easily lose their vision of Dharma. So personally, I would like to live with other Sangha members; I cannot think of a more interesting or more pleasant way to live.
From a practice point of view, I would find a monastic or single-sex community less useful as an object of meditation and reflection. I want to be around some kind of microcosm of society, to see men, women, and children of all ages – animals too - growing up in an ecological Dharma realm, and exploring our connection with the earth. Mahayana Buddhism and Deep Ecology unite around the point that all biological organisms have needs. All beings whatsoever need others to support their existence. The Bodhisattva appreciates this. He or she knows the need of everyone in the web of life, and especially what is needed most of all: enlightenment. Obviously, very few are able to see enlightenment as a need. The majority of humans, not to mention other organisms, have to occupy themselves with far more basic issues. These issues certainly need attending to. Our accumulated neglect of nature, both human and nonhuman, is an unparalleled disaster. It is most unfortunate that we have so naïvely, and appallingly, exploited the earth and its peoples. Yet there is no point descending into despondency. A Buddhist ecological community can educate itself about these needs, practise Dharma, help wherever possible, and avoid doing further damage. For example we can generate as much of our own power as possible. We can eat mainly local, organic food. We can also be more politically active. In short, we can set a much-needed example of how everyone will need to start living in a sustainable future.

Currently, however, despite our Mahayana tradition, the FWBO often seems to reflect the self-interested values of the prevailing industrial growth society. It was typical of a Buddhist that I had virtually no interest in ecology when I started my retreat. Buddhists excuse themselves from such concerns: suffering is the result of karma, we say, so surely the overriding need is to deepen one’s awareness. Yet a very effective way to do so is to give to other beings, and the need of humans, animals, and plants is currently crying out so loud for our attention that it is getting through even to some Buddhists. It does surprise me that, as I write, none of the large FWBO centres in the UK supports the need to supply local, organic food. I understand that an efficient charity runs on a tight budget, and I agree that the economic priority for Buddhists is to spread the Dharma. From a public perspective, however, our style can appear short on compassion. It is quite possible to be both ethical and economic. Buddhafield, for example, always provide organic food on their retreats. They manage it simply because they have committed to organic food a basic ethical priority. Others could easily do the same.

A Buddhist community will be looked to as an example in its attitude to nature, at a time when contemporary living is looking like a project to get us as far away from nature as possible. In the west, in our comfortable homes, we have come to feel that nature hardly touches us. Our technology has given us a sense that we are somehow more powerful than nature, even beyond it. This seems very self-absorbed; one only has to consider the effect of natural disasters like hurricanes and epidemics to see that nature is bigger, beyond all bounds, than humanity. American ecologist Frank Egler also famously expresses this fact: “Ecosystems are more complex than we think—they may be more complex than we can think.”

Why, though, is life getting increasingly artificial? Why is it that we want it so – as it seems, in many ways, that we do? By what process did we get to this point, with such strong feelings of need for whatever is the latest, fastest, and most stylish? Our very effective technological development has brought us extraordinary convenience, efficiency, and safety, and that has no doubt disconnected us, in various ways, from our roots in natural reality. That disconnection, especially our loss of feeling, does seem partially responsible for our abuse of the natural world. However, in our justifications for that abuse, we also seem influenced by the inherited monotheistic view that nature is evil, something to master and rise above. Christianity’s two-thousand-year suppression of pagan values, and its dictum that nature is a god-given resource for exclusively human use, seems, in retrospect, to have caused unbelievable suffering. In a society seeking freedom from all that, Buddhism becomes attractive in that it makes no separation between humanity, nature, and God. All humans are potentially God; god-like qualities are natural; and nature is simply reality. Nothing, not even God, is considered to be outside nature. Nor are Buddhas, who simply have their own particular ‘Buddha’ nature, i.e. the general quality and dynamic of Awakening.

However, western Buddhists, including some FWBO folk, say that nature is something one transcends on the Buddhist path. That could appear, wrongly, to support the ‘nature is bad’ view. At the core of what the Buddha taught was ‘that which is beyond the world’, which he realised through vipashyana or insight. The Pali word is lokuttara, which Sangharakshita has translated as ‘The Transcendental’. One enters the Transcendental at the point of insight. It would be easy to mistake this crucial transition as transcendence of nature – however, in Buddhist terms, what one transcends through insight is identification with samsara, the endless round of birth and death. One cannot, in fact, transcend nature. Nature is something bigger; nature itself transcends samsara. The Transcendental itself is natural.

Lokuttara means the transcendence of concept. It involves cutting through dualistic awareness to realise the ever-present nondual nature of awareness, ‘Buddha Nature’. Thus, enlightenment is not something outside nature, but like everything, has its own very particular nature. Nature is not only season and cycle, death and rebirth, flowering and dying. It is also capable of other manifestations, as for example the ‘spiral path’ of 24 causal links, the Buddha’s description of the process of awakening as a natural process, which I will attempt briefly to summarise. Initially (and at a stroke summarising the first twelve, cyclical nidana links) one realises not only that one feels dissatisfied with our unquestioned, baffling existence, but also that it must be possible to discover its nature and find satisfaction. On bringing sustained awareness to that dissatisfaction by practising ethics, meditation and wisdom, there arises a special kind of interest, joy and happiness. Then, when reflecting on the nature of reality, this emotional expansion provides the individuality, the mental space, and the concentration of being necessary to seed and sustain experiences of insight. As these build up, and one enters the full, transformative experience of insight, one awakens fully to the nature of reality. This awakening is not ‘beyond’ nature. It is the discovery of real nature, big nature, the reality that is always there behind the hard shell of our concepts. Reality is, of course, simply reality, and never our idea of it. However, we spend most of our time totally identified with our ideas of it, with all the attendant ego-protecting emotions. We see these emotions and concepts as real. However, reality is what is revealed when the delusion collapses, and wisdom arises. It is called by such names as Dharmakaya, Dharmadhatu, Tathata, and Buddha Nature.

Talk of ‘collapsing delusion’ could give an impression that this Reality or Nature is not especially positive; yet on the contrary, it is positive beyond belief. The Buddha taught not only that nature is without an essence, that it is impermanent and insubstantial, but also that that is something good, something amazing. He taught that life is unsatisfactory only when we grasp it as permanent and substantial. Real nature only shows itself when we let go ideas and constructions of that kind. Even the notion of causes and conditions turns out ultimately to be our construction. The rich simplicity of reality is what has always been there beyond the constructions. Because we do not recognise it, we cannot help but continue constructing and reconstructing our reality. That may be a heaven, it may be a hell, but whatever our experience, is not truly real unless we have woken up and recognised its nature. For once you spot it, reality is the most attractive object, the sexiest thing, the most intriguing and fascinating thing, in the universe. You have to learn to recognise it, but if you see it even just once, that will be the end of all hesitation. Once you see it, reality will have you hooked.

Buddhist tradition expresses this ‘hooker’ aspect of the Dharma in a number of different ways. Some Bodhisattvas actually hold hooks, for example. However, the enlightened being who most of all exemplifies this quality is Kurukulle. Kurukulle is a red dakini, a female Buddha. In terms of myth, dakinis live in cremation grounds; they live around clattering bones. They turn up at the awe-inspiring crossroads between life and death, manifest in the critical situation, where our practice suddenly goes deeper than ever before. Dakinis often appear, in a visionary way, to practitioners like us, at crucial points in our spiritual lives. And all dakinis have a special connection with Prajnaparamita, the mother of enlightenment experience, the perfection of wisdom. They are concerned with the collapse of ego, with the terrifying moment of spiritual death and the brilliant and colourful life that is then born. For these reasons, dakinis are sometimes called ‘mothers’, though perhaps they function more as a midwife.

There is a male dakini form called a daka, but the female form is far more common. This may be because to our minds, pleasure connects more naturally with the feminine. Whether or not it is true that girls just want to have fun, dakini symbolism certainly evokes the pleasure of enlightenment. Dakini dancing expresses the blissful enjoyment of perfect wisdom. They stretch themselves out, shockingly free, in the sky of the liberated mind. Their appearance is often also terrifying, but they are clearly enjoying themselves, often in a very sexually open and explicit manner. They are naked, totally exposed, and they love displaying themselves. Being real is immensely pleasurable, it seems, and they do not want to hide it.

The dakini Kurukulle is all of this, but she is also especially concerned with love and attraction. She is of course young and very beautiful, and her complexion is a deep rosy red. She is flushed, she is aroused, and indeed, she is very, very excited. For example, the sadhana text I know describes her as having erect nipples. To express the feeling even more, she is holding a flowery bow and arrow just like Cupid. This is because her enlightened activity is to cause people to fall in love. Of course, I mean to fall in love with the Dharma, go for refuge to the truth of awakening. Though it does seem that one may also invoke Kurukulle for arousing ordinary sexual love, so the question arises: what do we want, Dharma Sutra, or Kama Sutra? Yet we should not answer too quickly, since there is an important of connection between the two kinds of love. What Kurukulle does essentially is to focus our strongest desires. She is concerned with what we really, really, want, more than anything else in the world. Essentially, she knows that in our hearts, what we are dying to do is fall in love with Dharma practice, or even for our practice to be a kind of lovemaking.

That might sound a little exaggerated, but it points to the big issue with Dharma practice: motivation. Each of us has problems with not wanting to do it that much, with being a bit limp and half hearted, with not being in the mood tonight. However, if we could fall in love with reality, with big nature, there would be no problem of motivation at all. We would not wish to do anything else; we would be at it all the time. We would continually be meditating and reflecting on the Dharma. This is what we really, really want, in our heart of hearts. Yet desire needs an initial spark, and that is why Kurukulle holds the flowery bow and arrow in her hands, and spends her time firing love arrows into the hearts of all beings.

I mention Kurukulle because she expresses in such a delightful form the positive nature of ultimate reality. We can sometimes be rather nauseated by (the notion of) ultimate reality, repelled by (the notion of) spiritual death, browned off by all the difficulties of practice – for example by the way spiritual insight seems to ruin people’s lives and change a person permanently (making some lose interest in pubs, occasionally even in football). However, when we can really let go our constructions and habitual concepts about life and who or what we are, the reality we let go into is intensely delightful and fulfilling. Not surprisingly, one experiences the nature of reality – big nature – as the resolution of the unsatisfactoriness that characterises samsara. The reality that is all there ever has been, but which we hide by our clinging to concepts, is far from being some abstract nothing, some ‘emptiness’, to use that misleading term: it is something amazing.

One of the Mahayana Sutras compares this Nature to honey. Reality is like some honey that is available to us all the time. We could lick it, taste it, and enjoy it at any time – if only we could see it! Unfortunately, we do not see any honey at all, because it is covered with furiously buzzing bees. That is all we see. We never think, even for a moment, that there might be something enjoyable there. It just looks busy, scary, and dangerous. The buzzing bees represent our strong attachment to concepts about our reality: all our tightly held attachment to a hard-shell personality and a fixed, artificial, little world. The actual reality, the peaceful and delightful dakini dancing reality, is only revealed when we un-stick ourselves from these habitual concepts and emotions. Only when we let them fly away does the buzzing stop and we can start enjoying the sweet honey, the sweet love of Dharma that was there, unrecognised, all the time.

Kamalashila is currently on a four-month retreat at Ecodharma, Guhyapati's mountain retreat centre in Spain. He plans to move there in the autumn of 2008.
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[1] This seems to be the kind of community the Buddha himself preferred, though he sometimes lived alone or with one other person. Since the scriptures make occasional references to female wanderers, it may be worth investigating the possibility that the Buddha’s Sangha was not as exclusively single-sex as portrayed by the monastic oral tradition.