Posted in Uncategorized

Kuan-Yin: A Gender Fluid Bodhisattva for Our Times

Introduction: Personal Reflections on Gender[1]

 To study the Buddha way is to study the self.

To study the self is to forget the self.

To forget the self is to be enlightened by everything.

To be enlightened by everything is to free one’s body and mind, and those of others.

– Dogen Zenji (1200-1253), Shōbōgenzō

What makes a woman a woman? Is it her life-bearing capability of a womb? Is it the “crowning glory” of her hair? Is it her breasts? (Yes, men have breasts, too, but they are not typically seen as a secondary sexual characteristic like they are for women.)

I recall a woman discussing this in a small group setting. We were attending the Rains Retreat at Deer Park Monastery in Escondido, California. It was the spring of 2004, and I’d been calling myself a Buddhist for about eight months. The speaker was a breast cancer patient.

She had lost her breasts to surgery and her hair and menstrual cycle to chemotherapy. She was wondering if she was still a woman.

We had no answers for her. It was not that sort of session, anyway. It was simply a time for each person to share what was coming up in their hearts and minds during the hours of silent meditation. Answers were neither required nor expected.

I would remember her some eight years later when I received my own breast cancer diagnosis on my 48th birthday. In my first surgery, one breast was removed. A month later, with the first dose of chemo, my body went into what I call “thermonuclear” menopause. I stopped menstruating that day, mid-cycle, and never had another period. All my remaining eggs were killed by the chemo drugs. Even though I had never wanted children, I still briefly mourned the lost potential.

About 12 days after my first dose of chemo, my hair started falling out. To add insult to injury, it was a painful process. It turns out that hair follicles do not “go gentle into that good night,”[2] but rather die kicking and screaming. I knew the day was coming and had already had my hair cut short from my below-the-shoulders, pre-cancer style. Still, I mourned the loss of my hair, which I had always thought was one of my better features, as I had mourned the loss of my eggs.

And there I was. One breast, which was going to have to come off eventually, bald, and infertile. Was I still a woman? This time, I had answers.

My answer was and is, “Yes, I am woman, hear me roar.” Because I choose it. I choose to be a woman and therefore, I am.

It had nothing to do with my body or “form,” as we say in Buddhism. And it certainly had nothing to do with what was written on my birth certificate. It was simply how I felt – more feminine than masculine, although both are at play in all of us all the time. And both are societal constructs that have nothing to do with biology.

When I meet transpersons, I’m happy to treat them as whatever gender, including none, that they present as. If I can choose to be a woman when I had no breasts, eggs, or hair, then so can anyone else.

Kuan Yin’s Move from Male to Female in China Speaks to the Impermanence and Emptiness of Gender

Buddhism has adapted to whatever culture it has migrated to. In my own country, the United States, Buddhist groups gather to meet on Sunday mornings and Wednesday evenings for no other reason than that is when Christian groups gather, and that is what people are accustomed to. In Japan, Buddhist temples and Shinto shrines occupy the same religious temple compounds. Tibetan Buddhism has assimilated many of the shamanic practices of the indigenous religion of that land, Bon.

Just as Buddhism as a whole has acculturated itself, so have the bodhisattvas, the holy men and women on the path. When Avalokiteśvara migrated from India to China, he was renamed Kuan Yin. Avalokiteśvara is commonly translated as “The Lord Who Looks Down (with Compassion).” Kuan Yin means “Cry-Regarder,” while the alternative, Kuan-shih-yin is “Regarder of the Cries of the World.”[3]

Perhaps because Avalokiteśvara did not have a solid mythology at the time his cult arrived in China, it was relatively simple for the Chinese to create their own legends around this new being in their lands.[4] Those legends reflected what the people needed at that point in time: a feminine construct of compassion.

Kuan Yin was venerated in China as early as the first century C.E.[5] They were depicted in art largely as male through the 10th Century, although some popular manifestations of Kuan Yin were feminine as early as the 5th Century.[6] Sometime around the 11th Century, their iconography began to shift to more feminine representations. Since the 15th Century, Kuan Yin has been seen as almost exclusively female.[7]

There are several theories as to why the Chinese saw Kuan Yin as female. Perhaps they saw compassion as a more feminine characteristic than a masculine one. It could be that they perceived a female reference in Kuan Yin’s mantra. Or that the Chinese merged them with a pre-Buddhist goddess of seafarers.[8]

Kuan Yin’s feminine transformation could also have been a reaction to the patriarchal governance of institutions of Buddhism and Neo-Confucianism. Had these two religions not lacked feminine icons, the transgendering of Kuan Yin may not have occurred.[9]

Regardless of why the Chinese chose to change Kuan Yin’s gender – or alternatively, why the Bodhisattva themselves decided to change it – the fact is that gender representations of Kuan Yin are impermanent. Just as our physical forms change over time, so does the iconography of Buddhism, especially that of Kuan Yin.

Some Modern Buddhist Leaders Still Reject Kuan Yin’s Gender Identification Change

Some members of the orthodox Buddhist clergy have refused to acknowledge Kuan Yin’s transformation to female, even when Kuan Yin was depicted as a woman in art and literature. Even today, there are Buddhist monasteries venerating images of Kuan Yin that follow the conventions of iconography from the T’ang dynasty of 618-907, showing them as male.[10]

There are undoubtedly strong reasons for those in power, in this case men, not to want to give up having an extremely popular Bodhisattva identified as one of their group. In today’s world, when women and transpeople have finally found their voices, it is unfortunate that Kuan Yin’s shift in gender is not universally accepted.

A Bodhisattva Who is Unattached to Gender and Form Demonstrates Resilience

      When speaking of gender, it is important to note the distinction between relative and absolute. On the level of the relative, men and women are different. Men cannot bear children; women can. According to the International Labour Organization (ILO), “On average, women globally are paid about 20 percent less than men.”[11] Gender makes a difference.

On the level of the absolute, there is no gender. Just as there is no form at all, and gender is one aspect of form.

The reason that I find this distinction important is because of all the male teachers who have told me that gender is irrelevant. My own Zen teacher, who founded a Zen Order, said there should be no distinction between monks and nuns, and that all genders would be called monks. When I asked him why we could not refer to all of us as nuns, he seemed genuinely confused. Why is the default the masculine term, I wondered. I never received a satisfactory answer.

When Buddhist teachers who are part of a dominant group, be that by gender, race, or class, tell those who are in the minority or lacking power that these things do not matter, they are referring to the absolute. Western male teachers have been known to say things like, “(E)nlightened mind is beyond gender, neither male nor female.”[12] That answer is fine as far as it goes. But it does not go very far towards equity in the relative world. On the relative level, gender matters.

And yet not to Kuan Yin. They chose to move from the dominant gender to the subjugated one. That is a powerful lesson in resilience.

According to the American Psychological Association, “Resilience is the process and outcome of successfully adapting to difficult or challenging life experiences, especially through mental, emotional, and behavioral flexibility and adjustment to external and internal demands.”[13]

The Bodhisattva Kuan Yin chose to adapt themselves to the needs of the world. Rather than running from the difficulties inherent in belonging to a member of a vulnerable group, they embraced the opportunity. Much like the Tibetan female Buddha Tara, Kuan Yin made the decision to be female.

Having been male, female, and androgynous, Kuan Yin demonstrates the ability to adjust to external demands. When China needed a female manifestation of compassion, Kuan Yin was not deterred by the limitations of the female form in the relative realm. They were not put off by difficulties or challenges. Rather, they overcame any potential negative repercussions and thrived in whatever form they chose to manifest.

While we can acknowledge the role of gender in the relative world, we can see Kuan Yin’s example to remind us that, ultimately, gender is as empty as any other phenomena. The Buddha advised us not to become attached. We can take that advice while continuing to strive for gender equality. Reminding ourselves that gender is strictly a relative concept may be a good start.

Lessons Modern Buddhists Can Learn about Gender Identity and Awakening from Kuan Yin

In the Lotus Sutra, there are a total of 33 manifestations of Avalokiteśvara, including female ones. The various forms are provided to suit the understanding of different readers.[14]

His manifestations in many worlds are in forms which may include a Transformation-body Buddha, an Arhat, a Hindu god, a monk, nun, layman or laywoman. He even manifests himself in hell realms, and in the worlds of ghosts or animals. In one Chinese painting, he is shown appearing in the form of a bull, in order to convert a butcher from his wrong livelihood. His various manifestations may mysteriously disappear after they have appeared to help someone, or they may live out a full life, or even a series of them, as in the case of the Dalai Lamas of Tibet.[15]

– Peter Harvey, An Introduction to Buddhism

Regardless of why the Chinese people decided to re-gender Kuan Yin, let us presume that Kuan Yin, themselves, was in agreement with this decision. If we accept Kuan Yin as an actual being, rather than a human-made construct, what can we learn from them?

First, that gender is simply another aspect of form. And form is emptiness, at least according to the Mahayana schools of Buddhism. Form is emptiness, emptiness is form. Gender is emptiness, emptiness is gender. In other words, gender has no independent arising. Rather, it arises from causes and conditions which are certainly influenced by karma.

I have always enjoyed movies where the male lead is a personification of a horrible misogynist in his life and is forced to come back – already as an adult, because it’s a Hollywood movie – as a woman. One has to wonder how frequently this occurs to various beings due to the negative karma around women.

One of the teachings inherent in Kuan Yin’s gender transformation is that gender is not important. To put it another way, a specific gender is not needed for awakening. Although there are teachers alive today who believe that only men can become enlightened, the Buddha told Ananda that women could awaken just as men could. That reasoning, in fact, is why the Buddha changed his mind and decided that women could ordain as nuns.

However, the Buddha noted that the ordained path would be more difficult for women than for men. Let us look at some of the reasons why that may be true. First, most women are not as physically strong as most men. This is a generalization, of course, but it is still accurate for most people. The arduous walking lifestyle that the Buddha embraced could prove difficult for some women.

Second, because most women are shorter than most men, their legs are not as long and their strides are shorter. This means that nuns would have to take more steps each day just to keep up with the monks.

Then there is the matter of menstruation in ancient times, before modern hygiene. Clearly this was something that women dealt with, but that does not mean it was not a challenge. Since women were accustomed to dealing with menses, perhaps the Buddha’s concern was for the reaction of the monks.

These are just a few of the more obvious, physical examples of why a life of renunciation might have been more difficult for women than for men. Yet Kuan Yin, who began life as a man, chose to change into a woman, embracing these challenges fully.

Kuan Yin is not attached to their gender. Whether they present as male, female, or androgynous, Kuan Yin is “The one who hears the cries of the world.” Compassion knows no gender. Neither does awakening.

Gender is perhaps the single aspect of form with which most people identify most strongly. As Rita M. Gross writes, “Many people, both women and men, simply cannot imagine who they might be without their specific gender markers and traits.”[16] Gender is marked on our birth certificates and becomes, in most countries, legally enforceable. Therefore, if we can relax our grip on our sense of self regarding gender, we can let go of similar attachments to race, eye color, and so on. We can learn that the other aspects of form are equally insignificant.

Moving from form, we can then begin to release our clinging to the other aggregates (Sanskrit: skandhas) that define us, namely feelings, perceptions, impulses, and consciousness. Suddenly or gradually, all of the things that we believe make us “us” begin to lose importance. And thus, our dissatisfaction with life, our suffering (Sanskrit: duhkha), diminishes.

Is that not the entire point of Buddhism? To reduce our suffering, and that of others, by releasing our grasping minds. The primary thing that we grasp upon is our sense of self. Within that sense of self, the primary thing most people identify with is gender.

Kuan Yin does not have a personal sense of self. They are the very embodiment of compassion. They are content to appear as we need to see them: male, female, or somewhere in between. Kuan Yin has released the small “I” in favor of the big “I.”

So can we.


[1] A note on pronouns:  I have chosen to refer to Kuan Yin using gender neutral pronouns. The exception is when referring to a specific manifestation (such as Avalokiteśvara) who was only known as one gender or the other.

[2] In reference to the poem, Do not go gentle into that good night, by the Welsh poet Dylan Thomas (1914-1953).

[3] Harvey, Peter. An Introduction to Buddhism: Teachings, History and Practices, Cambridge University Press, Cambridge, 1990, 131.

[4] Yü, Chün-fang. Kuan-yin, Columbia University Press, Kindle Edition, 15.

[5] Guan Yin, Guan Yim, Kuan Yim, Kuan Yin.https://www.nationsonline.org/oneworld/Chinese_Customs/Guan_Yin.htm.

[6] Harvey, 183.

[7] Yü, 6.

[8] Yü, 21.

[9] Yü, 21.

[10] Yü, 6.

[11] International Labour Organization (ILO). https://news.un.org/en/story/2022/09/1126901#:~:text=On%20average%2C%20women%20globally%20are,Sunday%2C%20International%20Equal%20Pay%20Day.

[12] Gross, Rita M. Buddhism Beyond Gender, Shambhala, Bolder, 2018, 8.

[13] American Psychological Association. https://www.apa.org/topics/resilience.

[14] Koh Kok Kiang, Guan Yin: Goddess of Compassion, 2004, 10.

[15] Harvey, 131.

[16] Gross, 5.

Posted in The Spiritual Life, Uncategorized, Zen Buddhism

Dealing with Strong Emotions

When I was on my 3-year cancer journey, my psycho-oncologist said that I was “dealing with” cancer. I wasn’t “fighting,” “struggling against,” or battling” it. I was simply dealing with it.

I really liked that construction, and I’ve been using it for all kinds of things ever since.

Since words – being labels – have impact, I choose them with care. Like “strong” emotions. I don’t say “powerful” emotions, because that implies they have power over us. They do not. At least not unless we let them.

All of this came up last night when one of my students asked for suggestions in dealing with her own strong emotions around the recent U. S. Supreme Court decision to overturn Roe V. Wade. For anyone unfamiliar with this ruling, the original gave women a right to abortions, although each state could place some restrictions on that right. Now, slightly over half of our population no longer has agency over their own bodies.

No wonder emotions are running high.

But this post isn’t about abortion or self-determination. It’s about any strong emotion and how to deal with it.

Here is the process I suggested to my student. It works well for me personally, and I recommend that you try it for yourself. Like a recipe, feel free to add, remove, or adjust ingredients to suit your taste.

1. Face the Emotion

Look at the emotion squarely. Face it head on. Label it, if you like. You might label it “frustration,” “anger,” “disappointment,” or “sorrow” to give a few examples. You might use language to label it, or you may have a felt sense of what it is, instead.

Do not think about the source of the emotion. As Tibetan Buddhist nun Pema Chodron says, “Let the storyline go.” Continuing to think about it is like pouring fuel onto a burning fire. Instead, encourage the emotion to extinguish all on its own. (Nirvana literally means “blowing out” or “extinguishing.”)

Do not “stuff” the emotion, as that’s unhealthy both psychologically and physically. Sometimes we need to be with the emotion for a few minutes, and that’s all natural and good. Just don’t feed it with the story.

2. Recognize the Emotion is Impermanent

When we meditate – and I hope you’re meditating regularly – thoughts come up all the time. It’s part of the process. When thoughts arise, we realize that they are as ephemeral as clouds in the sky. We notice and acknowledge them, then allow them to dissipate. This is the practice.

We can do exactly the same thing with strong emotions. No matter how intense the feeling or how much it seems like it’s about to overwhelm us, we know it will pass. All things do.

 “All conditioned things are impermanent.”

– the Buddha

Our emotions are conditioned on our upbringing, the circumstances, what we ate for lunch, and more. Remember that they are temporary and that “this, too, shall pass.”

3. Release the Emotion

Now that we’ve laid the ground work, it’s time to let that shit go. As my grand-teacher, the Korean Zen Master Seung Sahn, used to day, “Put it all down.” (He also used to say, “Changing, changing, changing, changing, changing…”)

Perhaps this is a purely mental process for you. Perhaps you take a deep breath and blow it out forcefully, imagining ejecting the emotion from your body. Perhaps you feel your body relaxing all over as you sense the strong emotion draining away. It really doesn’t matter. Just let go.

By the way, these three steps can be accomplished faster then it’s taken you to read this far. So don’t despair! Just do the work.

4. Go into “Action” Mode

This is where the rubber meets the road, we put our money where our mouths are, or we walk our talk. (Feel free to choose your expression or come up with your own.)

Don’t like how something is going? Make a plan to change it.

Let’s go back to the example of my student who was experiencing some anger about the overturning of Roe V. Wade. She already participated in a demonstration about it. What else can she do?

  • Support organizations and officials who seek to change the law through donations or volunteering her time.
  • Educate the people in her circle about why this is important to her.
  • Support groups who are providing legal access to abortion to women in states where it is now illegal. (Usually this means providing them transportation to another state and back.)
  • Avoiding spending money in states where abortion is illegal.
  • Chanting and meditating for the benefit of all involved.

I’m sure you can come up with some others.


The point is that you are not powerless, no matter whether that strong emotion made you feel that way for a tick.

I encourage you to try out my “recipe.” Give it a taste test, then make your own adjustments. At the end of the day, nothing I or anyone else says matters unless it works for you.

The next time you start to feel yourself getting spun up, take a breath and try this process. I guarantee it’s better than doing nothing.

Posted in Zen Buddhism

The Buddha’s Enlightenment Day

December 8th is the date generally agreed upon in Zen to celebrate the Buddha’s enlightenment or awakening. The Buddha lived on the lunar calendar, so the actual date on our solar-based calendar would move every year. (Think of Passover or Easter – they move because they’re based on the lunar calendar.) In Japanese, Bodhi Day is called “Rohatsu.” It literally means “eighth day of the twelfth lunar month.”

Traditionally, the way to celebrate or honor the day would be to sit in meditation from sunset the night before until sunrise on the 8th. This is what the Buddha did. Today, in Zen monasteries around the world, the monks and nuns sit for the entire week leading up to Bodhi Day.

Householder Practices

As people with jobs and families, we may not have the time to sit for an entire week, or even overnight. Here are some ways to mark the occasion, going from the simple to the more elaborate.

Just Sit

Meditate more than you normally do. If you don’t sit at all during the work week, and December 8th falls on a workday for you, sit for five minutes. Go out in your car if you have to, but find some quiet and do it.

A Note About Posture

Sit however your normally sit: on the floor, in a chair, it doesn’t matter. Get comfortable. Do not allow any physical limitations to keep you from the task at hand.

Sit Under a Tree

The Buddha sat under the Bodhi Tree, a Ficus religiosa or sacred fig. If you don’t have a fig tree, any old tree will do. If you have a Christmas or Yule tree set up, you can use that. The Buddha preferred to meditate outdoors (and I highly recommend that), but if the weather isn’t to your liking, you can stay indoors.

Review Your Precepts

If you’ve taken Buddhist precepts, this is a good day to read through them and check in with how you’re doing upholding them. Ideally, you are reciting your precepts every full moon and new moon. But who are we kidding? Householder life gets in the way. So if it’s been a while, do it now.

Read

Read something the Buddha said. Or read something by an historical or modern Buddhist teacher that resonates with you. If you have time, contemplate what you read. To retain the information better, read it like you’re going to teach it within 24 hours, then corner a willing friend or family member, and tell them all about it. Or you can journal about your reactions to the reading.

A Note on Journaling

I strongly recommend handwriting a journal as opposed to typing one. The reason is that it’s slower. And recording our thoughts more slowly slows the brain down. The ideas become richer. Don’t take my word for it: try it for yourself.

Practice Gratitude

The Buddha, born Siddhartha Gautama, went on an arduous, six-year quest to find the answer to his burning question: why is there suffering in the world. I’m grateful that he did that. But he didn’t do it for me; he did it for himself. What I’m most grateful for are the next 45 years: the time he spent walking and teaching anyone who cared to listen. When I deeply ponder the effort he expended on behalf of all beings, I am moved nearly to tears.

Then I consider all the additional people who taught in a direct line from him to me (82 of them), and the tears come. So many selfless people! So many obstacles overcome to share the Dharma! I am overcome by thankfulness.

Go Deeper: Write it Down

It doesn’t matter if you ever go back and review what your write. The fact is that writing about something engages a different section of your brain than merely thinking about it. So now you’ve recorded the information in two different places in your brain, doubling your chances of it having a long-lasting effect. Plus, writing slows down your thoughts, allowing them to expand in unexpected directions.

Personally, I’ve kept a gratitude journal since 2010, even during my cancer journey. Every day, I answer these three questions from M.J. Ryan’s book Attitudes of Gratitude:

  1. What am I grateful for?
  2. What did I enjoy today?
  3. Where do I feel satisfied?

Or you could use this list from Seventeenth Century Dutch Rabbi Baruch Spinoza:

  1. Who or what inspired me today?
  2. What brought me happiness today?
  3. What brought me comfort and deep peace today?

If the only prayer you ever say in your entire life is thank you, it will be enough.”

Meister Eckhart, 13th Century German Catholic mystic

Decorate

You can decorate your home for Bodhi Day. Adding lights to a tree is one traditional method, and with Christmas and Yule trees readily available, it’s easy enough to do. I have a number of Buddhist-themed holiday ornaments that I put on our tree each year and leave up until the tree comes down right after the new year.

You can also display images of the Buddha, especially statues.

Creating an Altar

There are many articles on the Internet about setting up an altar according to different Buddhist sects. Here’s a really simple one.

  • Place a statue of the Buddha on a riser, like an upside down bowl. (Use the nicest bowl you have. Drape a doily or napkin over it if desired.) If you don’t have a statue, print out an image from the Internet and lean it against something so that it’s upright.
  • Burn incense in front of the Buddha as an offering. Personally, I say “Thanks, Sid,” when I do so. (Yes, the Buddha and I are on a first name basis.)
  • If you wish, add two candles, one on each side of the Buddha. White is good, or use your favorite color.

Take the Day Off

This one requires some advanced planning and isn’t available to everyone. But if you can, take a personal day or vacation day from work and spend time in the Dharma. When I was a college professor, I used to swap days with one of the Jewish professors: I’d cover their class on the first day of Hanukkah and they’d cover mine on Bodhi Day – with our supervisor’s consent, of course.

Summing It All Up

Chose what works for you. Buddhism, like life, isn’t “one size fits all.” Here’s the core of what I do on this day:

  • Remember,
  • Be grateful,
  • Practice to honor those who came before and for the sake those who will come after.

Happy Bodhi Day! May all beings benefit.

Posted in Quote, Zen Buddhism

On Grief

One of my students lost a beloved pet two nights ago. She wrote me that she is taking refuge [in the Dharma], but she still misses her companion. She understands impermanence and yet remains effected by loss. 

I’ve always thought Buddhist priest Kobayashi Issa (1763-1828) expressed this apparent disconnect best. He wrote this haiku on the occasion of the death of his daughter:

This world of dew
is a world of dew.
And yet…

Posted in The Spiritual Life

Keep Calm and Don’t Multi-Task

My Trip to Asda

Have you ever been waiting for the minimum-wage earning, high school student at the window of the fast food place to make your change while he or she is taking the order of someone behind you? And you just know the employee is going to get it wrong?

This is because our brains don’t actually multitask, according to the current research. They’re not built to. It’s no wonder is when the kid at the drive-thru makes a mistake. (The wonder is when he or she gets it right!)

Yesterday, VTH (that’s “Venerable The Husband”) and I did some grocery shopping. We’re in London for the summer and needed to stock up the flat. None of the grocery store chains here are familiar to us, so we simply went to the nearest one. While the checker was ringing up the person in front of us, a man came up to the empty check-stand behind her and started helping himself to the plastic bags. The plastic bags that the store charges 8 pence each for.

The checker asked him, politely at first, what he was doing. He went on about how the bags should be free. Honestly, he wasn’t making much sense. She shoo’ed him away and went back to what she was doing.

Then it was our turn. The man comes back, this time in front of her at yet another register. Now she’s yelling at him. He’s not stopping. So she’s shouting for the manager. “Hamet! HAMET!” All the while continuing to scan my groceries.

I pay with my debit card in the little machine. “HAMET!” she’s screaming. She’s pressing buttons on her register. She has Hamet’s attention now, and is yelling at him about the man stealing the 8 pence bags. (At the current rate of exchange, that’s 10.8 cents US per bag,) I finish my transaction and wait on the checker.

VTH says, “Hit okay.”

“I already hit okay,” I say. “I’m waiting for her.”

The checker hears me and presses a button. Hamet is chasing the bag thief away right behind me. The checker is watching the drama, occasionally offering her two cents. The little machine says “approved,” and I wait for my receipt.

“Are we ready?” asks VTH, who’s got one eye on the drama behind me.

“I’m waiting for my receipt,” I tell him.

“I don’t know what happened,” says the checker. “It should have printed. HAMET!”

I know what happened, I think to myself. You’re trying to do two things at once, and you messed one of them up. The checker is trying to get me to re-run my card. I decline because I’m concerned about being charged twice. Now I’m about ready to scream for Hamet.

Hamet shows up. “I don’t know what happened,” he says in precisely the same tone of voice the checker had used. I’m starting to think it’s part of their official script when something goes wrong. He wants me to rerun my card. There’s quite a bit of conversation about this, not rising to the level of argument due solely to my Dharma training.

Finally I agree to rerun my card provided Hamet gives me a phone number to call in case I get charged twice. Even this is long discussion, because he wants me to come back into the store if that happens. “You might have noticed from my accent that I’m not from around here,” I explain. “Coming back might not be an option.” I’m thinking I could be back in the US before my bank shows the extra charge. Hamet eventually agrees and provides me a phone number.

This whole scenario, from the time it was our turn with our roughly 15 items, took over 10 minutes. There was a long line of angry, fuming people behind me.

There are two take-aways from this experience. First, don’t multi-task. It doesn’t work. After that experience, I’ll never shop at an Asda again. With plenty of other choices, there’s no reason for me to give them a second chance. I’d be willing to bet that at least one of the people in line behind us won’t be back, either.

Multi-tasking isn’t efficient. The Buddha knew it over 2,500 years ago. Had the checker stopped scanning my items to deal with Hamet and the bag thief, then resumed when she had Hamet on the case, it would actually have been much faster. And I might shop there again.

It’s okay to pause one activity while focusing on another. In fact, it’s not just okay, it’s necessary.

Second, just stay calm. The whole situation could have been much worse had I reacted in an angry way. For the sake of complete “transparency” here, I was mad as hell. I just didn’t act on my anger. I never raised my voice. I didn’t cuss. I just looked Hamet in the eye and said, “I’m NOT happy.” Hamet was already having a tough day dealing the bag thief, and there was nothing to be gained by yet another person shouting at him.

When I was younger, I might have enjoyed telling him off. I might have felt a sense of righteous indignation. Then I encountered the Dharma and learned a more skillful way. I no longer enjoy inflicting my negativity on others.

And thank goodness. I’m much happier this way. And I think Hamet is probably happier with me this way, too, even though he doesn’t know it.

Posted in The Spiritual Life

Dealing with Disappointment

“Get used to disappointment.” – Westley, The Princess Bride

I’ve been dealing with several disappointments lately, some major and some minor. Since I’m an introspective person by nature, I’ve asked myself two important questions. First, what are the causes and conditions that have given rise to disappointment? And second, what’s the skillful way through it?

The “Why” of It

The threshold question we seem to ask in the West is, “Why is this happening to me?” Luckily, I’ve learned to let that one go. When I was going through cancer treatment, well-intentioned people (usually those into the New Age movement) asked me why I thought I had cancer. I told them I hadn’t thought about it, which was true. It didn’t occur to me to ask why I had cancer any more than it had occurred to me to ask why I got to work at my dream job or be married to the perfect man.

Someone asked the Buddha whether the correct question was “Who is this I who is experiencing this disappointment?” The Buddha said that that inquiry didn’t go deep enough. The better question, taking oneself out altogether, is “What are the causes and conditions that have given rise to disappointment?”

Simply by taking the word “I” out of the question, we relax our grip on a sense of a solid, separately existing self. We are reminded of the interrelatedness of all things. Now we’re ready to take a deep dive into causes and conditions.

Let’s use a gardening analogy. There’s a beautiful orange tree in my backyard. Why is it there? Because (for the cause of) a seed was planted there. But that’s not enough. Conditions must also be right. In this case, we need the right soil composition, sunlight, and enough water. When these causes and conditions line up just so, I get to enjoy the orange tree and make fresh OJ!

So, what are the causes and conditions of this current disappointment? The causes are that plans have changed. There was and is absolutely nothing I can do about those plans being changed. That’s outside of my control. What about the conditions?

Ah, this is where it gets interesting. The conditions were that I was looking forward to those plans, I had expectations, I was attached (in the Buddhist sense of being overly attached in an unhealthy way) to those plans!

There’s nothing wrong with looking forward to fun events. It only becomes a problem when we’re so attached to the future – as I was – that we create disappointment and suffering for ourselves when plans don’t go the way we wanted them to.

Looking at my inquiry, I can clearly see that my clinging to my plans was the cause of my disappointment. It’s just like the Buddha said in the Second Noble Truth:

“Suffering, as a noble truth … is the five categories of clinging [to] objects” (Dhamma-cakka-ppavattana-sutta — SN 56.11).

The “How” of It

So now what? The logical answer seems to be letting go of my attachment and clinging to my plans. But when have emotions ever been logical? What is the skillful way through this disappointment and self-created suffering?

Acceptance, taking life as it comes. Fortunately, we Buddhists have a practice for that: equanimity meditation.

The practice goes like this. You choose three people, things, or events from your life. Once should be someone or thing you’re overly attached to. One should be something you’re don’t like. At all. And one should be something neutral, or close to neutral.

Start with the person or thing you like, and imagine them sitting on one side of you. Spend a few minutes tuning in to all the feelings you have for them. Then imagine the person or thing you don’t like on your other side. Once again, tap in to your feelings about them. Finally, place the neutral person or thing in front of you, and allow your feelings to settle. You should feel generally positive about this “neutral” person or thing, but without any emotional intensity.

Then try to feel all three at once! Take some time to see if you can balance your feelings for the two extremes to match what you feel for the central figure. You may want to remind yourself that they all have an equal right to exist, even if you enjoy being with one more than the others.

Once your feelings have leveled off, just breathe for a few minutes before ending your meditation.

In my meditation, I place my cherished plans on the side of too much clinging. I place something I absolutely do NOT want to have happen on my other side. (I don’t “catastrophize” here, picking the worst thing that could ever happen no matter how unlikely.) Then I place some other event, which would be nice but isn’t terribly exciting, in the middle. After a while, I come to realize that there are many likely potential outcomes for my particular situation, and any of them would be okay.

Wrapping It Up

In short, I am the architect of my own suffering – by clinging to my plans – and I can relieve my own suffering – by letting go through meditation practice. May all disappointments be as easily alleviated!

Spiritual Wealth

“I focus on spiritual wealth now, and I’m busier, more enthusiastic, and more joyful than I have ever been.”

—John Templeton

What does “spiritual wealth” mean? For me, it’s simply time to practice the Dharma by bringing it into my awareness throughout my days. It’s how I keep my mind, moment to moment. It’s remembering to be my best in any circumstance. It’s listening to my Buddha-Nature.

That’s wealth, indeed. And you have it, too.

Dukkha

“People know they are lacking something, they are constantly wanting some kind of spiritual guidance.”

—Douglas Hurd

When the Buddha said that life is dukkha – “unsatisfactoriness” – perhaps this is what he meant: that vague feeling that there’s something fundamental missing from our lives. For those of us who perceive that void, a spiritual practice is the most “satisfying” way to fill it.