Sunday, March 13, 2016

A Buddhist response to Trump

As I was watching Rachel Maddow this evening, I had a horrible sinking feeling in my stomach. Piece by piece, she demonstrated how Donald Trump deliberately incited violence in Chicago. His rhetoric has become increasingly violent, he now repeatedly states that protestors are "not good people" who are destroying America (and implying they should be roughed up) - and then there was the sudden cancellation of the Chicago rally when thousands of supporters and thousands of protestors were angry and ready to have a go at it. (Oh yes, claims Trump, he did it because law enforcement had warned him about security concerns. Another outright lie - the police confirmed they never had been consulted - but no one expects politicians to tell the truth these days, right?) I imagine the Trump political machine, gleeful at the successful manipulation of the mob to escalate racial tensions. And elated about the media coverage. And ecstatic at the intensity of emotion that Trump now commands.



As I watched Trump on the news clip, I grew increasingly angry, scared, and sad. Bringing mindfulness to the experience, I could sense the pain in my heart and the desire for a good angry cry. I was watching a really horrible, manipulative, wicked man, who could somehow actually ascend to the presidency. I was watching a powerful bully in action. It was like looking into the face of evil - and as a post-modernist, I thought I did away with the concept of evil ages ago.

So how do I, as someone who frequently takes the first Buddhist precept of practicing nonviolence, respond in this situation?

It’s really hard for me to separate Trump’s evil actions from his nobility as a human. When I look at him, I’m frightened by the potential threat he poses to billions of lives around the world should he come to power. I am instilled with the same sense of horror when I see portraits of Pol Pot and Stalin - people who are power-hungry, manipulative, authoritarian, and, well, evil.

Now, fundamentally, I do believe that under his spray tan and vitriolic words, Trump is a human, that he is not evil, and that he is capable of redemption. I know that evil is a construct and not always - or even often - a useful one. I know the hypocrisy of calling this man bad when he’s doing the very same thing to activists. I can’t imagine myself having the equanimity to, say, offer a prayer of lovingkindness for him. But I also see that Trump spins a karmic web of suffering that he is unlikely to shed in this lifetime. Somewhere underneath his egotistical self, he must be vulnerable and scared and trying everything in his power to not feel that way. I can’t imagine how hard he must work against his own happiness by employing means that lead to suffering and compulsively and continuously needing to re-inflate his ego. (I mean, sweet Jebus, did he really talk about his dick size at a televised debate?)

I’m also, really, really angry and terrified at the prospect of a Trump presidency. And I live in Canada - at least we can build a wall to America out.

In her recent blog post, Emma Lindsay (https://medium.com/@emmalindsay/trump-supporters-aren-t-stupid-3d38f70f2a2f#.2gabuoml2) speaks about the reasons why people may support Trump, and I think her analysis of the loss of dignity by the working class in an era of spiralling inequality is a brilliant thesis. There is a sense of threatened pride and the fear of not belonging which emotionally drives the Trump campaign. Her blog post points to a compassionate response to Trump’s rise to power. I’ve read criticism of her post saying that she is an apologist for Trump supporters, not calling them on their bullshit. Yet, while racism and bigotry and hatred are quite stupid, it is usually quite unhelpful to call people racist, bigoted idiots - you’re pretty unlikely to win someone over by calling them stupid. The fact is that we all can be bigoted idiots sometimes - I know, for example, that my conditioning as a privileged white male shapes the way I see others in a prejudicial manner. I am racist. It's not a personal failing, but a challenge that I inherited that I have to address  For me, as an engaged Buddhist, it is the task of mindfulness to become aware of these conditioned racist thoughts and patterns, to undo the knots in my own bonds of suffering, and to loosen my identification with them as I practice my inner transformation. Lindsay writes:

We must find ways for the working class to maintain its dignity, we must find a way for them to have jobs that are satisfying to them, we must find a way for them to contribute to culture. We must find a way for them to feel heard. Which, by the way, are the exact same goals we need to have for oppressed races. We all need the same thing, and until we find a way to give it to more people, we will fight each other for it.

In making racism a personal defect rather than understanding its systematic, insidious and often covert nature, we really fail to understand why racism emerges in the first place. We make it a lot harder for people to confront their own prejudices. "I don't have a racist bone in my body, but..." says the Trump supporter shortly before spewing off racist remarks. Racism is something that Other Really Bad people do, not me. Ultimately, it seems to me more effective and compassionate to understand that the mob mentality and violent behaviours evident at Trump rallies has causes and conditions which allow it to arise. Like all things, it is part of the continuous unfolding of cause and effect that we call karma in Buddhism. Hatred in this case arises as a result of the felt deep sense of alienation. Calling someone stupid both demonizes the Other and alienates them further, making them even more likely to vote Trump. It’s like the sense of shame that fuels many addictions - and in this case, the hit, the short term relief from alienation, is being provided by Trump’s entertainment and hucksterism.

The potent image that often sticks out for me is the puppy by the side of the road. You approach it, he bites you, and you are ready to smack him before you realize his leg is caught in a trap. I think an engaged Buddhist response to Trump means trying to see the trap, to bring mindfulness to this campaign. We need to attend to what is happening with mindful awareness so that we can choose how to respond, rather than react in such a way that fuels the fire. Engaged Buddhism demands that we do not remain quiet, but that we continue to be voices of peace and love and nonviolence in the world.

I’m going to go work on sending lovingkindness to Donald Trump now.

Thursday, March 10, 2016

So, is it a religion?


Kuan Yin, my altar - for me, a symbol of the open heart and God

A question I often get asked: is Buddhism more of a religion, or a philosophy? However, the question really only brushes the surface of this discussion. Perhaps Buddhism is a faith. Perhaps it has a spiritual core which is ultimately free from religious doctrine. Perhaps it is a psychological approach, which greatly benefits people’s lives, yet still affirms an atheist and secular paradigm. So is Buddhism a religion? A philosophy? A psychological school? Or a spiritual path?

The short answer is: yes.

For the majority of Buddhists in the world, Buddhism is most definitely a religion. It operates as an organized spiritual practice and faith community of around 500 million adherents who pray and give offerings not only to the mytho-historical Shakyamuni Buddha - the founder of Buddhism - but often to multiple other supernatural beings as well. However, the degree of dogma and the need to hold correct beliefs varies throughout the branches of Buddhism, with some traditions seeing devotion offered as highly symbolic and others more deeply rooted in faith. For example, many Zen Buddhists regularly practice invoking the bodhisattvas and Buddhas, but they are de-emphasized philosophically and seen as symbols of liberation. On the other hand, Pure Land Buddhists believe in a literal god-like Amitabha Buddha who will save you if you have faith in him and call on his holy name.

In the West, the picture is equally confusing. The Insight Meditation tradition is hugely influenced by the Thai Forest Tradition and Burmese Theravada, but operates without the robes and incense and can be seen as more secular. This secularism is further completely emphasized in the Mindfulness Meditation movement, where the technique of mindfulness is extracted from the faith and applied in multiple life arenas. Secular Buddhists are skeptics and adopt a humanist, rationalist worldview, stripping the faith of any supernatural elements yes still embracing spiritual practice. Some Western Buddhists believe in rebirth and the Buddhist cosmology with all its heavens and hells, and others do not. For many, Buddhism fits with the sentiment “I’m spiritual, but not religious."

From a philosophical standpoint, Buddhism has an enormous number of schools that hold sometimes quite contradictory views. Discussion, education, and reasoning have a long history in the Buddhist world. Nalanda, one of the world’s first and internationally acclaimed educational institutions, was a Buddhist university which operated for 800 years and at its height had 2,000 teachers and 10,000 students. The philosophical and educational bent was encouraged in early Buddhism by the charter of free inquiry, the Kalamas Sutta, in which the Buddha states:

So, as I said, Kalamas: Do not believe things simply because of reports, legends, traditions, scripture, logic, inferring, analogies, debate, probability, or because you think your teacher is wise. When you know for yourselves that, 'These qualities are skillful, these qualities are wholesome, these qualities are praised by the wise; these qualities, when adopted and carried out, lead to wellness and to happiness,' only then you should enter and remain in them. (my paraphrase)

While not entirely rationalist, this sutra/sutta (scripture) certainly encourages the disciples to try things on for size. Through practice, they will determine for themselves what actually leads to wellbeing and what leads to suffering. As Buddhist philosophy continued to develop with this emphasis on personal experience, it embraced topics as widespread as the true nature of reality, the inner workings of psychology, and the existence (or not!) of God.

Buddhist psychology, while now a Western school, was first codified in the Abhidharma (Higher Dharma), one of the three traditional canons of scripture in Theravada Buddhism. The Abhidharma explores the study of experience and consciousness, ethics, and psychology. It mindfully attempts to discern the true nature of the mind. In modern times, Buddhist psychologists may employ methods such as Mindfulness-Based Stress Reduction, or Acceptance and Commitment Therapy, which both have their roots in Buddhist meditation.

So what exactly is Buddhism? I choose to see it as an experiment. I draw on the history of free inquiry within the Buddhist tradition and try things out to see what works for me. A great example: in a lot of lovingkindness meditations, my inner response to the guided words is sort of a internal “yuck." I’m not able to soften when the images I’m asked to use seem silly to me - I get too distracted by my judging mind. What I’ve learned to do in a guided meditation is to sit and notice my responses to the words of the teacher. With mindfulness, I am then able to learn what opens my heart, and what causes my emotions and body to contract. I’m able to listen to what has worked for others and try out their teachings, to see what fits and what isn't useful. For me, this experiment is an ongoing dialogue between all the Buddhist experiences - faith, practice, psychology, and philosophy - and my life.

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Dr. Geoffrey Dice, DMD, RYT 200 is a yoga teacher, mindfulness educator, and Buddhist practitioner, trained in Vipassana, empowered in Tibetan Buddhism, and currently studying Soto Zen. He brings years of practice in many spiritual traditions, and a love of alignment, anatomy, breath, and mindfulness in asana to his classes. In his spare time he is a dentist

On March 17, 2016, join Geoffrey for an evening workshop with chanting, bowing practice, meditation, and asana practice on the principles of Buddhist Mindfulness Yoga. We will explore the First Foundation of Mindfulness, Mindfulness of the Body, in a movement and meditation focussed class. Register at http://www.eventbrite.ca/e/buddhist-mindfulness-yoga-the-first-foundation-tickets-22300930684?aff=eivtefrnd

Friday, March 4, 2016

Buddhist mindfulness yoga: A primer


Form is emptiness, and emptiness is form. (Heart Sutra)

Yoga and Buddhism - two practice methodologies which are increasingly popular in the West in myriad forms - are distinct yet interrelated dharma traditions which arose in conversation in the Indian subcontinent. Individually, many modern yogis blend the traditions - go to a hatha yoga class one weekend and a Buddhist meditation workshop the following. Indeed, many teachers now offer yoga classes employing Buddhist metaphysical principles, or teach yoga during mindfulness meditation retreats. I believe this is a field ripe for conversation, which is why I teach Buddhist mindfulness yoga.

While these two traditions are distinct, the history of Buddhism and the yoga tradition are intimately intertwined. Siddhartha Gautama, who would become known as the Buddha, learned from the foremost yoga teachers of his day before he broke away to form his own distinct yoga school which later evolved into Buddhism. One might understandably make the mistaken assumption that Yogacara (the practice of yoga), a prominent philosophical tradition originating around the 4th century CE, was a Hindu yoga school. In fact, Yogacara was one of the most influential Buddhist schools which focussed on how the mind constructs reality as we experience it. On the flip side, Patanjali borrowed a number of Buddhist meditative techniques and philosophical ideas in his writing of the Yoga Sutras, even outright appropriation of entire Buddhist doctrines, such as the Brahma-viharas (divine abodes), four mind-states conducive to enlightenment.

So for those of us Buddhist yogis or even those just tantalized by Buddhist philosophy - where do we begin exploration of this hybrid?

In the Satipatthana Sutta, a highly revered scripture especially in Theravada (Southern School) Buddhism, the Buddha lays out a system of meditation which is still followed by Theravadans and Western Buddhists in the insight meditation/vipassana movement. It teaches four foundations for meditation - mindfulness of the body, mindfulness of feeling-tone, mindfulness of the heart-mind, and mindfulness of the dharma. In sitting meditation, the entrance point to mindfulness of the body is the breath - being aware of the sensations of the body as we inhale and exhale:

Breathing in a long breath, the meditator knows, "I am breathing in a long breath;" breathing out a long breath, they know, "I am breathing out a long breath;" breathing in a short breath, they know, "I am breathing in a short breath;" breathing out a short breath, they know, "I am breathing out a short breath.” (Satipatthana Sutta, author’s paraphrase)

Ujayi breathing and other hatha yoga pranayama (breathing techniques) use a conscious control of the breath, rather than the observation of the autonomic breathing reflex that mindfulness meditation espouses. However, it is possible to bring mindful attention to our more effortful pranayama as we bind the attention, body, and breath together, such as when mula bandha (root bind) automatically engages at the bottom of the breath. To practice this, find a comfortable, tall seat, and begin a very slow round of ujayi pranayama, creating a rushing sound in the back of your throat. As you inhale, imagine an energetic line of breath starting at the base of your spine and travelling all the way up to your soft palate. On the exhale, the energy descends from the soft palate back to the base of the spine. Even as you visualize this flow of prana (breath), if you exhale completely, you will notice the pelvic floor musculature - particularly the pubococcygeus muscle - automatically engage and lift. In this way, we can mindfully observe prana and the engagement of the pelvic floor musculature simultaneously. In other situations, such as yin yoga and sitting, it might be more beneficial to completely let go of control of the breath and bring mindfulness to its natural rhythm in order to enter into greater stillness.

The second foundation, mindfulness of feeling-tone, refers to the sensory experience of the categories of pleasant, unpleasant, or neutral. Every stimulus our mind receives automatically gets shuffled into these three general categories, and each of them has a felt sense we can engage with mindfully. Fear, for example, might be an unpleasant inner contraction, a clenching of the muscles of the face, an unsettling feeling in the stomach. The mind automatically reaches for things which are pleasant and tries to push away unpleasant sensations, and in general it ignores the neutral ones. This establishment of mindfulness of feeling-tone opens the way to the third foundation, mindfulness of the heart-mind, which is the awareness of thoughts and emotions. We observe the thoughts but don’t become entangled in them.

Practicing these three foundations together moves our yoga practice into a meditative depth that is impossible without mindfulness. Sarah Powers (www.sarahpowers.com), founder of Insight Yoga, teaches a brilliant and simple use of inquiry in posture to establish these foundations. As an experiment, move into any asana and first notice the sensations arising in the body while in the posture. Ask yourself three questions: what am I feeling? (mindfulness of the body); what does it feel like? (mindfulness of feeling-tone); and how am I relating to this experience? (mindfulness of the heart-mind). As we practice these observations, we can learn to discriminate between the subtle, distinct unfolding of sensations which the mind normally lumps together: I am feeling a stretch in my right hamstring. This stretch feels like pulling, familiar. This sensation of a line pulling on the outside of my right thigh is pleasant, this sharper sensation closer to the midline feels vaguely unpleasant, and my left leg feels neutral. I am reacting by wanting to deepen the stretch. I am telling myself a story about how my right side is so much tighter than my left side.

The final foundation, mindfulness of the dharma, can either specifically speak to particular doctrinal concepts within Buddhism (ex: mindfulness of the Four Noble truths), or the meditation on the various phenomena which make up our sensory/psychological system (ex: mindfulness of the senses). In the Mahayana (East Asian) school of Buddhism, the fourth foundation is mindfulness of sunyata or emptiness. Emptiness can be a difficult concept to grasp: all phenomena are empty of independent existence - that is, everything that exists only does so in relation to everything else. Everything is connected, and our concept of discrete objects is actually false. The opening of the dharma eye is the experience of becoming aware of the essential interconnectedness of all things and the fading away of the distinction between self and other. As we meditatively investigate the dharma, we begin to see that there is nothing observable that is permanent, unchanging, completely satisfactory, or possesses a quality we could call “self.” (It is important to note that there are some atypical schools which teach a positive expression of sunyata called Buddhadhatu - Buddha-nature - where the entire universe is permeated with the capacity for enlightenment, and is by some teachers upheld as the True Self).

It is this fourth foundation which may be the distinguishing mark of Buddhist yoga. Popular yoga spirituality teaches a path to understanding our True Self. In the traditional advaita vedanta (non-dual) Hindu philosophy, our True Self is identical with the True Self of God. By and large, Buddhism teaches that our Selfing Project actually gets in the way of the divine experience which cannot be expressed in human words or to fully grasped with the cognitive mind. Any fundamental quality that could be called an individual self only exists in relation to other objects. All things inter-are. Form - the world of symbols, names, and concepts - is emptiness. Emptiness - the interpenetrating nature of all phenomena - is form. The actual meditative experience of this paradox is profound and ineffable.

So how does this unexplainable concept of "form as emptiness, emptiness as form" apply to our asana practice? As we establish mindfulness, we can begin to let go of our notions of the forms of postures having any inherent meaning or “right way.” When I’m in downward facing dog, there are alignment principles which can keep me balanced and safe, but ultimately even balance and safety are concepts constructed in the world of form - useful, but without inherent meaning. What is the form of the posture? There is no essential significance to any asana, and yet I weave a story which gives it some meaning: look at me, I’m in handstand for the first time! As normal thought drops away, I can begin to observe that I am as much the contact between my hands and the mat, the mat itself, the people around me sharing this same form, as I am what I think of as “me.” In fact, nothing about the posture or the body or even the sensations and thoughts that accompany it have any substance which I can call truly me or mine, as convinced that I am that they belong to me.

Finally, and impossible to stress enough, Buddhism, like yoga, prescribes ethical living. It insists that for our meditation to be useful, we have to live a life which causes no harm and serves the entire community. Bodhicitta, the mind practice which is the path to enlightenment, is the desire to find compassion, empathy, and awakening for the benefit of everything and everyone everywhere. It requires that we live a life of service and justice. It requires effort to end the oppression of the world. This is the Engaged Buddhism taught by Zen master Thich Nhat Hanh, vipassana teachers Kittisaro and Thanissara, and many others. It is the Buddhism of this new age, born in a time of globalization in a new home outside of Asia. Buddhist yoga demands that we step off the mat and take our practice with us wherever we go, so that we become the kindness and compassion that will ultimately liberate the world. It demands that we make our living honestly and that we treat everyone with equal respect and dignity. It demands simple living in such a way that we are aware of social justice and environmental consequences. Buddhist yoga is a tool for bringing positive transformational change to the whole world.
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Geoffrey Dice, DMD, RYT 200 is a yoga teacher and Buddhist practitioner, trained in Vipassana, empowered in Tibetan Buddhism, and currently studying Soto Zen. He brings years of practice in many spiritual traditions, and a love of alignment, anatomy, breath, and mindfulness in asana to his classes. In his spare time he is a dentist

On March 17, 2016, join Geoffrey for an evening workshop with chanting, bowing practice, meditation, and asana practice on the principles of Buddhist Mindfulness Yoga. We will explore the First Foundation of Mindfulness, Mindfulness of the Body, in a movement and meditation focussed class. Register at http://www.eventbrite.ca/e/buddhist-mindfulness-yoga-the-first-foundation-tickets-22300930684?aff=eivtefrnd