Showing posts with label Dalai Lama. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Dalai Lama. Show all posts

Saturday, November 04, 2006

Altruism as Essential Spiritual Practice


"So in a sense we could say that the practice of generating and cultivating the altruistic intention is so comprehensive that it contains the essential elements of all other spiritual practices." [1]

In Buddhism, we train in ethics, in concentration, and in wisdom. An aspect of wisdom is to see through our motives to discern whether we are acting out of altruism or veiled greed, in other words ethically or unethically. Concentration is the tool required for such penetrating insight.

Shantideva writes,
As long as space endures,
As long as sentient beings remain,
Until then, may I too remain
And dispel the miseries of the world. [1]

It is the deepest, most important, part of our practice as Buddhists to generate this pure altruistic intention for every single thought we have, every single action we perform, every single word we say. We awaken in the morning with the intention to help all beings (note how this is not limited to humans!) in everything we do. We lie down to sleep, thankful for every moment during our day in which our thoughts, words, and actions were altruistically based, and repentant of every instance in which we acted out of greed, hatred, or delusion. There is no judgment, only sorrow over the harm we caused others by our noncompassionate action, and a further vow to dispel the sufferings of every single being with whom we come in contact. In the morning, we begin anew, vowing to base every moment of our lives on compassionate wisdom.

1-Minute Contemplation: Before you go to bed this evening, take 1 minute to contemplate your thoughts, words, and actions throughout the day. Were they based on compassion and love? Or were they based on your selfish ego? Maybe your intent seemed compassionate but a little probing reveals that it was simply veiled greed. See the harm you caused others through your egotistical acts and vow to base every action, every thought, on compassion and love. Leave a note for yourself so that in the morning, you remember to rededicate yourself to pure compassionate action in every moment of the day.



[1] Transforming the Mind. His Holiness the Dalai Lama. 2000.


Monday, October 23, 2006

Interfaith Blog Event #2: Ethics, Intrinsic or Relative?


Welcome to the second Interfaith Blog Event! In each installment of this series, which we're hoping to do on a monthly basis, we'll explore a single topic across three different religious traditions. I am, obviously, writing from the Mahayana Buddhist tradition. Jon, from Jesusfollowers Journal, will be writing from a Protestant Christian perspective, and Sojourner from A Pagan Sojourn, will be writing from a Pagan perspective.

The topic we'll be discussing today is the following:
Is there anything you consider to be intrinsically right or wrong? What grounds do you have for that conclusion? How does the concept of morality impact your everyday life?

[Jon's Essay] [Sojourner's Essay]


Back in the 5th century BCE, Siddhartha Gautama was born in a country immersed in Hindu spirituality. B.K.S. Iyengar states, "In Indian thought, everything is permeated by the Supreme Universal Spirit (Paramatma or God) of which the individual human spirit (jivatma) is a part." [1] Later, he continues, "By profound meditation, the knower, the knowledge, and the known become one. The seer, the sight and the seen have no separate existence from each other. It is like a great musician becoming one with his instrument and the music that comes from it. Then, the yogi stands in his own nature and realizes his self (Atman), the part of the Supreme Soul within himself." [2]

As a prince, Siddhartha's education included detailed study of the Vedas, the sacred scriptures of Hinduism as revealed by the Supreme Being. But after having renounced his royal lineage to pursue the life of a monk, and training with the greatest spiritual teachers of his day, Siddhartha found that such training was highly beneficial, but it did not lead to the highest attainment--ultimate peace, Enlightenment. Specifically, Siddhartha could find nothing within that corresponded to the Atman. Rather, on the night of his Awakening, he personally experienced the emptiness of all things, that everything, and everyone, existed based upon the cumulative effect of other existing causal factors and the proper conditions within which such causal factors may operate. Hence, the animating principle of the Atman was illusory--we existed not because a piece of the great Brahma, the Creator, was injected into us by said Supreme Being, giving us a fully independent existence, but solely based on the existence of other causes.

After his enlightenment, the Buddha met up with some old friends with whom he had practiced for years. As his first teaching as the Awakened One, he taught that, as we observe the world, one thing is obvious: Suffering exists. This teaching had two components. First, it implied that because we were born, we would experience disease, old age, and death, as well as personal hardship. These "unavoidables" often lead us to experience the second component of this Truth--mental suffering. This second component of the First Noble Truth explains that these unavoidables are not suffering; suffering is our mental response to such experiences. We cause ourselves to suffer because of our response to our life experiences.

In his practice, as the Buddha removed the causes of suffering--the mental poisons of greed, hatred, and ignorance--he noticed that genuine, perfect happiness arose naturally, replacing the suffering that had existed previously. As a young prince, he had experienced the pinnacle of worldly pleasures. But this new, genuine happiness completely transcended such worldly happiness. It is "The joy which is beyond the pale of the senses which reason cannot grasp." It is "The treasure above all others. There is nothing higher than this." [3] Furthermore, the Buddha observed that all beings desire happiness and avoid suffering. Therefore, combining these two insights, it was clear to the Buddha that the attainment of genuine happiness for all beings, and the removal of their suffering, was the ultimate spiritual aim.

Before examining how this aim determines Buddhist ethics, let's examine happiness. The Buddha observed that happiness comes in two forms, relative and genuine. As he experienced as a Prince, worldly happiness is relative--what makes one person happy may cause suffering to another. Consider a person out on a hot day. If the person enjoys hot weather, he will be happy. But if he does not like hot weather, then such temperatures will cause him to suffer. Continuing this example, if the person does not like hot weather and hence enters a cool bath, this will please him. But relative (worldly) happiness is also transient--if he stays in the cool water too long, he will become cold, and hence will begin to suffer.

Contrary to relative happiness, genuine happiness does not fluctuate wildly. Genuine happiness is absolute--genuine happiness to one person is genuine happiness to all people. The principle characteristic of genuine happiness is inner peace [4]. "[If] we can develop this quality of inner peace, no matter what difficulties we meet with in life, our basic sense of well-being will not be undermined." [5] No external factor can create such peace. But how can it be developed? Like everything else in life, it is dependent on causes and conditions. Hence, we must identify its causes and conditions and then cultivate said causes to bring about genuine happiness.

In the 2,500 years since the Buddha first explained these teachings, it has been experienced over and over by Buddhists that altruism is an essential ingredient of genuine happiness. For thousands of years, Buddhists have written of their experiences with altruism--that not only do altruistic actions cause others happiness and reduce their suffering, they also make the altruistic person's life meaningful and happy, and reduces that person's suffering. In summary, therefore, we have discussed the following:

  1. We have observed that all beings desire happiness and avoid suffering.
  2. The Buddha experienced genuine happiness and gave us the path to attain such happiness ourselves.
  3. Altruism is an essential ingredient of genuine happiness.

By merging these three observed truths, we can develop a statement of Buddhist ethics: "An ethical act is one which does not harm others' experience or expectation of happiness." [6]

This definition raises an obvious concern: how does one determine whether an act will harm another's experience or expectation of happiness? Before we consider this question, however, let's apply this definition to isolated examples of the Five Precepts, the traditional guidelines of Buddhist ethics, to gain a better understanding of how to make practical use of this definition. The first precept is "Do not kill." Obviously, killing another being harms that being's experience of happiness and its desire to avoid suffering. Furthermore, it harms the killer's experience of happiness because, regardless of the worldly feelings of exhilaration that the killer may experience, penetrating insight always discovers the ultimate suffering to one's self that killing causes1. The second precept is "Do not lie." If a person needs to know the truth about something, a lie prevents them from knowing that truth and, hence, they suffer (albeit potentially unknowingly). Lies also harm the liar because he can begin to become entangled in his web of lies, and hence he suffers. The third precept is "Do not steal." Stealing inflicts suffering on another due to their loss. It increases suffering for the thief as well because it enhances the growth of the seed of greed in the thief's mind. The fourth precept is "Do not engage in sexual misconduct." The emotional damage of adultery and other such liaisons is well documented. The fifth precept is "Do not take intoxicants, or engage in their production, nor in the productions of weapons and poisons." One might not be able to stop the production of weapons in the world, but one need not exert one's own effort in their production, whose use ultimately harms many beings. Taking intoxicants is more of a preventative measure in that such use can increase the likelihood of acting unethically.

Therefore, it seems clear that the definition provided by the Dalai Lama provides an effective measure of ethical action in these "ideal" instances. However, life is much more complex than these idealized circumstances. Hence, one must ask how one can determine whether an act will harm another's happiness. Buddhism answers this question through the development of skillful means. The Dalai Lama writes,
We find that in practice, if we are not able to connect with others to some extent, if we cannot at least imagine the potential impact of our actions on others, then we have no means to discriminate between right and wrong, between what is appropriate and what is not, between harming and non-harming. It follows, therefore, that the more we could enhance our sensitivity toward others' suffering, the less we could tolerate seeing others' pain and the more we would be concerned to ensure that no action of ours caused harm to others. [7]

Therefore, it is through the development of compassion that genuine ethical conduct arises. Compassion provides the motivation for ethical conduct, as one cannot bear to harm another. But to what degree can compassion be developed? Buddhism has taught for millenia, and countless examples are described, of people developing compassion to the utmost degree, where their every act is based on their love for others. The Buddha and Jesus are probably the two greatest examples in recorded history.

If compassion provides the motivation, from where, specifically, does the ability to discern harming from non-harming actions come? Every aspect of Buddhist training leads one toward the development of correct discernment. Buddhist meditation develops concentration, which is necessary to be able to penetrate through the illusory surface of experience to know its true nature. Without highly developed concentration skills, our mind gets distracted and, hence, never reaches the true nature of phenomena. Through concentration and mindfulness, wisdom arises. This critical faculty is the key component to determining ethical from unethical actions. Buddhism also focuses on the removal of afflictive emotions such as anger, greed, and laziness, because such emotions obscure one's critical faculties, thereby reducing one's ability to discern harming from non-harming acts. (Recall how clearly you were thinking the last time you were really angry. How many times have you hurt someone through your words when seized by anger?)

Therefore, we must constantly check all of our actions and employ our critical faculties, ensuring that our actions are motivated by compassion. As stated so eloquently by the Dalai Lama,
[Have we] asked ourselves whether we are being broad-minded or narrow minded? Have we taken into account the overall situation or are we considering only specifics? Is our view short-term or long-term? Are we being short-sighted or clear-eyed? Is our motive genuinely compassionate when considered in relation to the totality of all beings? Or is our compassion limited just to our families, our friends, and those we identify with closely? [8]

He continues by admitting that, given the complex nature of our world, all possible alternatives may appear to harm somebody. "Under such circumstances, we must use our intelligence to judge which course of action will be least harmful in the long run" to the greatest number of beings. [9]

He summarizes this train of thought as follows:
The moral value of a given act is to be judged in relation both to time, place, and circumstance and to the interests of the totality of all others in the future as well as now. But while it is conceivable that a given act is ethically sound under one particular set of circumstances, the same act at another time and place and under a different set of circumstances may not be. [10]

Therefore, returning to the question posed at the beginning of this essay, there is nothing I can consider to be intrinsically right or wrong. Because of the infinite variety of situations, causes, and conditions, it seems intractable to consider any act as having inherent value that is not determined, to some degree, by surrounding circumstances. Furthermore, as the ethical system as described herein is not based on decree from a godhead, there is no ground from which to state that any action is intrinsically right or wrong.

Transitioning to the final aspect of the question that began this essay, I refer to the following statement by the Dalai Lama:
It may be worth reviewing the grounds for defining ethical conduct in terms of non-harming. As we have seen, given the complex nature of reality, it is very difficult to say that a particular act or type of act is right or wrong in itself. Ethical conduct is thus not something we engage in because it is somehow right in itself. We do so because we recognize that just as I desire to be happy and to avoid suffering, so do all others. For this reason, a meaningful ethical system divorced from the question of our experience of suffering and happiness is hard to envisage. [11]

In this passage, the Dalai Lama appears to agree with my conclusion regarding the relative nature of ethical conduct. He also makes clear the impact morality has on our everyday lives. Each and every day we attempt to act in a way that increases our happiness and decreases our suffering. Little do we realize, however, that the worldly happiness we chase paradoxically INCREASES our suffering due to its transient nature and long-term effects. Therefore, the better we learn to discern harming from non-harming actions, the happier those around us become, and the happier we become. Buddhism teaches that such training in discernment and compassion comprises the basis for all our true happiness in the world. As such, they comprise practices that we endeavor to employ in every moment of our lives. For Buddhists, therefore, there is never a single moment in time in which morality does not impact our daily lives.




Footnotes:
1This is a topic for another essay.

References:
[1] Light on Yoga. B.K.S. Iyengar. 1979. Pg. 19.
[2] Ibid. Pg. 22.
[3] Ibid. Pg 19.
[4] Ethics for the New Millenium, His Holiness the Dalai Lama. 1999. Pg. 55.
[5] Ibid. Pg. 56.
[6] Ibid. Pg. 49.
[7] Ibid. Pgs. 72-73.
[8] Ibid. Pgs. 149-150.
[9] Ibid. Pg. 152.
[10] Ibid. Pg. 153.
[11] Ibid. Pg. 147.


Friday, September 08, 2006

Exploration of Compassion in a World of Violence



This essay is an exploration of how love and compassion can survive and prosper in a world where violence is prevalent and accepted.

I am a relative pacifist. So I often question, "Do we even need violence? Can we live without violence? Should we, given our animal-nature?"

Most people would agree that love and compassion should be shown in most situations. But what about in an Israel-Lebanon type scenario? Hezbollah kidnaps 2 of your soldiers, how do you respond? Are peaceful, compassionate protests and negotiations viable? Or does that just encourage further incursions?

In Tibet, the Dalai Lama has always forbidden violent protests or responses to China's occupation. No further "expansion" has come of this, but is that because the rest of the world would violently oppose further takeovers by China? Or is China actually content with Tibet, and the Dalai Lama's response has maintained peace where otherwise there could have been bloodshed?

I read a story recently where a Buddhist monk was held captive in a prison in Tibet, where he was beaten and tortured, kept hungry and alone. This monk fled Tibet for India, where he met with the Dalai Lama. The Dalai Lama asked him, "Was there ever a time you felt your life was truly in danger?" The monk answered, "In truth, the only time I truly felt at risk was when I felt in danger of losing compassion for my jailers." That, to me, is the most heroic modern story I have ever heard. But if we had a majority of people committed to compassion like this Buddhist monk, would they be overcome by those who would take advantage of them?

This makes for an interesting paradox. Christ called for a turning of our other cheek, the Buddha instructed us not to harm other beings; but if we do this, will militant, extremist factions attack us out of their own misguided self-interest? Yet these great sages were the most wise people who ever lived, and we put great faith in their teachings. We must at least consider their advice.

So what is the answer? I don't think there is an absolute, correct answer to this dilemma. Dogmatic, doctrinal answers fail us here, as they do everywhere. We must apply wisdom to, and account for the practical parameters of, the situation. Our great sages' calls for peace and love and compassion form the ultimate path, the one we try our hardest to follow. But in our current world, many extremists may take this as an invitation to further their own self-interests, territorial and cultural, uncontested. Hence, I think that violent response remains a necessity in our current world. However, that being said, I applaud the great calls for peace, the protests, and the political movements to end war and violence, because to move toward the perfect path of peace expressed by our saints, we need to apply constant pressure on our governments to end hostilities.

For example, consider Iraq. An immediate, complete withdrawal of troops would be foolhardy, as Iraq would likely plunge into civil war. However, groups are right to call for such immediate action, to keep applying pressure to end violence. It is like walking up a down-escalator. Human violence carries us down, but we need to always be walking up, lest we collapse into a hellish state where chaotic violence is the only rule. Sometimes we may slow our walk and hence drift down slowly. But as long as we increase our pace often enough, we can continue making progress toward a life of compassion and turning our other cheek.



Wednesday, August 02, 2006

Set Winning and Losing Aside



From the Sangama Sutra, trans. by Thanissaro Bhikkhu:
Winning gives birth to hostility.
Losing, one lies down in pain.
The calmed lie down with ease,
having set
winning & losing
aside.

The Buddha uttered this verse when told of the defeat in battle of King Pasenadi at the hand of King Ajatasattu. Given the context, this verse was a commentary on warfare. I think it is particularly appropriate given the violence we are seeing exploding around the world today.

What do we gain by having to win? Anything more than an ego boost? I think it's very east to get caught up in rationalizing our behavior, justifying the means by the ends achieved, and lose sight of the brutality inherent in the means. I think our government is caught up in this quagmire of rationalization and ego.

In an essay entitled A Human Approach to World Peace, the Dalai Lama wrote:
Of the many problems we face today, some are natural calamities and must be accepted and faced with equanimity. Others, however, are of our own making, created by misunderstanding, and can be corrected. One such type arises from the conflict of ideologies, political or religious, when people fight each other for petty ends, losing sight of the basic humanity that binds us all together as a single human family. We must remember that the different religions, ideologies, and political systems of the world are meant for human beings to achieve happiness. We must not lose sight of this fundamental goal and at no time should we place means above ends; the supremacy of humanity over matter and ideology must always be maintained.

Violence is never the answer.



Monday, June 12, 2006

Compassion Exemplified



From May 2006 issue of Shambhala Sun, in an article entitled, "She Who Hears the Cries of the World," by Christina Feldman:
A few years ago, an elderly monk arrived in India after fleeing from prison in Tibet. Meeting with the Dalai Lama, he recounted the years he had been imprisoned, the hardship and beatings he had endured, the hunger and loneliness he had lived with, and the torture he had faced.

At one point, the Dalai Lama asked him, "Was there ever a time you felt your life was truly in danger?" The old monk answered, "In truth, the only time I truly felt at risk was when I felt in danger of losing compassion for my jailers."

If anyone were to doubt that Buddhas and Bodhisattvas live among us today, this story should eliminate that doubt. I bow to this monk for the beautiful teaching his life exemplifies.