NEVER WANING GRATITUDE ?

"Pay heed that the three never wane..."
                                                            Teaching slogan


What "three" does this refer to?
Pema Chodron, Buddhist nun, explains that the lojong phrase is talking about gratitude: for the teacher, the teachings, the practices of this discipline. She also goes on to explain that the third point is to keep the basic vows of seeking to go into the world without a safety net; to remember and keep the Bodhisattva vow, which moves us beyond our own self-centered views of the world and our own opinions--nudging us (kick-starting us, really) into awakening our dead hearts and moving ourselves (as well as all sentient beings) further along the path.


Again, I am "blogging Buddhist adventures" here--my own short-lived experiences, (so far), and understandings. I am not a teacher of Buddhism. I am a student. I am sharing my writing and musings because that is something I CAN do. It is also something that is encouraged by most Buddhist teachers because only by sharing can we help each other along the path. This path: Life. So, for what it's worth, here are my exploits thinking about this lojong phrase.


Our teachers can be anyone. The Buddha rather pointedly explained this. However, I believe this phrase is also referring to specific teachers we have known to stay with us on our journey. These teachers never gave up on us--even as we screamed, cried, gave up on ourselves, and sometimes, even on them! Being forever grateful to my teachers is not something that I take lightly. If ever I honestly feel humble, it is in the presence of these beings of Light. I may grumble, I may protest, I may even argue or try to avoid their lessons, but in the end, I always benefit. I follow their words; their deeds; their insights. Sometimes slowly. Other times, it is instantaneous. (Usually after a terrible event...sigh...) So, into the world, ALL THANKS AND HONOR to my TEACHERS.


Next: gratitude for the teachings.  These include all the access I have, as an American, to books, articles in magazines, translations, classes, videos and the postings and blogs on the Internet. This includes translations I can receive and read and ponder on my own. These also include, of course, the one-on-one teachings from my Teachers. ALL my teachers. This goes back to the Buddha: the One who explained Enlightenment; lived it; offered his interpretation of it, and how we might understand our own lives better. I know that these teachings have made my life more compassionate in a very concrete way. I know they have "entered into me" in such a way that my philosophy of life is less agro; less desperate; less competitive; even, less angry.


It has not replaced Christianity, for me, as I believe Buddhist teaching is NOT a religion. It is a philosophy and an education about being in this dimension --in a much more detailed way--than religion can do. Religion is a matter of faith.  However, there are so many codes and warring standards--so many conflicts among every sect--"religion" has left me in confusion and frustration.




In an ironic way, the study of Buddhist principles has made me a better Christian; a better human. I cannot be like Jesus because I don't know enough about the nuts and bolts of Christ's life. (Too many conflicting stories; too many loose interpretations; too many scandals and hurtful practices by those who are supposed to clarify Christ's teachings and make them accessible in this world.) But I want to believe. So, I rely on "faith". However, the "owner's manual" to humanity seems to be Buddhist teachings on behavior and motivation. I want to "love my neighbor as myself". Buddhist philosophy gives me actual practices of mind and heart to become that loving person. (It's, for me, like therapy for my soul.) Buddha never claimed to be God. He never even claimed to be the Son of God. However, Buddha did have some tools to help me along the journey to God. Or Om.




Some Buddhists will disagree. That's okay. That's Buddhist, too! But, they won't fight about it and kill each other over their different interpretations. (Something Christians need to learn!) They won't hate each other nor excoriate each other about these things. As Buddhism has traveled country to country, it has changed. It has embraced cultures and made spaces for different people. (Again, something Christianity is far behind in.)  Perhaps I am all wrong about both. If so, I believe I will ultimately find my way to Truth. But for now, I have gratitude for the teachings and the teachers. All.




The last point that needs to be remembered are the vows one makes when one is ready. These include finding refuge, not in the outside world and its dreamspaces, but within ourselves. Within a community, however far-flung, which respects our journeys. Finding refuge in those who have gone before us and lit the darkness for us, like the Buddha. (You can study Buddhism and not take these vows, ever. However, it is likely, as the years progress and your heart begins to unfold, you will begin to live them.)




The Bodhisattva vow is harder to understand. My "take" on this is that we can choose to live as a bodhisattva (or choose to come back, after death, as one) by making every living moment mindful; prayerful; actively seeking to help all sentient beings wake up from this illusion and become free. Again, the irony is the parallel between what Jesus did with his day- to- day life and what Buddha did!  Compassion, compassion, compassion. Enlightenment. Teaching. All Love. No judgment. No hate. Highest Love. They were and are different Beings, but what they held out to us, as humans, was wrapped in ultimate peace.



Someday I will understand the vows of the Bodhisattva, completely. For now, I think of all the saints that  have come down through the ages...unsung as well as famous. Persons of Light whose only goals were to assist all sentient beings they encountered.


I know it goes deeper than just this simplistic view--as all of my Buddhist studies do. For now,  however, this is what I have to share.




So, be grateful.
Be open.
Be awake and aware.
 Love without stopping--even if it is hard or hurts or makes you (us) afraid.




Namaste.


      

YOU ARE THE ONLY ONE

"Of the two witnesses, hold the principal one."
                                                                          Lojong Teaching Slogan


 People love to give advice--especially if it isn't about a tough situation that they are involved with. It makes them (us) feel important and useful.  Advice from afar can, possibly, hold some amount of wisdom. We know that everybody has potential Enlightenment in their centers--it's a good idea to hear everybody out. However, ultimately, it comes down to heeding what your own Soul/Mind/Center says.


Pema Chodron, the great Buddhist Nun and teacher, tells us that all dharmas agree at one crucial point: ONLY we know what is happening, inside.


Only us.


What we are running from; what we are confronting; what we are denying; what we are expecting; what we are holding tight; what we are letting go...this is the "who" of "who we are and are becoming". We can present a perfect façade to the outside world--sparkling clean; melodious; sweet smelling; all the right plastic and bling ; a perfect relationship; a perfect occupation; even an adoring entourage to "have our backs". However, unless we understand the costs (as well as benefits) from not only acquisition of such things, but also the retention of them and how they hinder or aid in our karmic journey, it is nothing. Shadows and smoke. (Pollution?)


Only if we come to understand ourselves completely--all the hidden nooks and crannies--and are willing to face those ugly and lovely spaces--to take responsibility for them (wherever that leads)--will we attain the real answers we are searching out.

The weird part of what Buddhism teaches is that, eventually, it will happen to every sentient being. Actually, if we can just sit still and "listen", it will all come clean. (Understandable.) Clear. However, in this time of "hurry hurry hurry" and "disengage with anything not on a screen", sitting still and just "listening" is perhaps the hardest exercise of all. (Even in countries without access to "screen technology", the fall-out from the rest of us who do have access, impacts upon them. The detritus of our Westernized (shared global) culture forces even the most remote points of the planet to "hurry hurry hurry"--and to stress out--to fight.) So, teachings like the slogans, offer basic steps to learning how to slow down. To sit down. To listen to our Centers for the real answers.


We need to work with whatever comes to us in this world. To feel all it brings to face us. To see how it connects and informs our deepest self. Not to push the evidence out of our consciousness. Not to numb out--artificially or otherwise. Not even to struggle against this karma. We need to face ourselves honestly and then, as the Buddha suggests, to take our own best advice.


Other people aren't "wrong"--they just don't know the whole story.


That's up to each of us, ourselves.


Namaste.      

UPDATE: TORTUGA AND TONGLEN

So, after six weeks of : renting a car to go to work; sending tons of e-mails and phone calls to BOTH insurance companies; dealing with my agent(s), AllState agent(s), appraisers; two garages; local cops; state RMV; investigators; everybody's secretary and Office Manager; my parents; my familia; I finally get the call: your car is ready to be picked up.


I return the rental car and find out that though AllState will pay for the rental it will NOT pay for the additional insurance I was forced to take out on said rental.  After my life being sucked dry by this charade for over a month and a half, I find that I am out one thousand and fifty-four dollars, which I can only (possibly) get back IF I take the guy that hit my parked car to court--and then he sues his insurers and I get to face the AllState lawyers in small claims. (Is this worth a summer of dealing with paperwork and "the Court System"...I am so tired...)


I chalk this entire scenario to "karma". Breathe. Happy I have enough money saved to cover this final "cost" and don't have to borrow anything from anyone. Happy to have some breathing room to enjoy summer and swimming and kayaking and writing...


Two days later: I come outside to a car that has spent its first night "home" leaking gas all over the driveway from a broken gas line.


(Karma?????????????????????????????????????????????????) Nope. Just a broken line under an old car...


I take it into the station. The guy in the garage is looking stressed and exhausted, too. He recognizes me from a year ago when they fixed my brake lines...he also recognizes the "old Subaru".  He tells me he can't get to it until tomorrow and I am not going to be driving it home, today...he offers me a ride to Maple Street.


He knows my brother, the cop. I feel safe. I ask him why he's the only one in the garage?  He sighs and I hear the entire story of a newly sobered up employee who has been missing for two days, now, and how everyone expects the guy fell off the wagon and has "disappeared", yet again.  I hear about wanting to support the dude but needing to hire someone reliable and not being able to "hold the job opened", but also worried about his friend and feeling helpless.


We talk about sobriety. We discuss the high incidence of addiction in Gardner. We both agree: thank God it isn't  heroin...I talk about that first year of getting clean and sober and how almost everyone "falls off the wagon" the first time...


The guy talks about his two young daughters--loves of his life--his worries about them growing up and "being girls"; talks about his wife; his job; drives me right up to my door. (Lots of strange men in the last six weeks giving me rides home...so weird this energy...) He promises to try and get the car done by tomorrow. Says it won't be over "a thousand"...Great. I shudder. He laughs. (I hope it is the kidding kind of laughter and not the "I've got a hooked fish" kind...)


Walk up to the front door as he leaves the scene and I suddenly realize: my housekey is still on the keychain with the car key.  Sigh.


I ring the doorbell.
I can hear the t.v. blasting loudly enough, in the livingroom, that it is totally audible on the front porch, with all the doors closed!  (At least the parental units are home...)


I ring the doorbell.


I hear the phone ring, inside, also audible from the porch.


I hear Mom yelling into the phone--some salesperson calling--Mom's less-than-patient-response.


I ring the doorbell.


I tap on the window, knowing they can't see me from inside.


I knock on the door.


I ring the doorbell.


Somewhere, from the bowels of the house, I hear Dad yelling to Mom about the doorbell.


I ring it, again.


This time, I hear his walker clicketyclickclicketyclick as he shuffles to the front door.


My greeting: "Where's your key? We couldn't tell if it was the front door or the back door bell or the phone or the t.v.!  Where's your key?"


I explain, moving quickly inside, headed for the aspirin bottle and the quiet of my bedroom, midday.


Mom: "So, why didn't you take the car back to the Body Shop?"
Me: "It has nothing to do with their work at the shop or the accident. It's just an old car and it's rusted on the bottom...even the mechanic said so. He will work on it, tomorrow."
Mom: "So, the insurance companies aren't going to award you "emotional damages" or anything?"
Me: "No. Just repairs on the car caused by the collision...and the immediate rental."
Mom: "That doesn't seem right..."


I sigh. Breathe. Head up the stairs.
No, it doesn't seem right at all.


Outside, it begins to rain, yet again.


(I realize: this would be a blessing in California.)  This isn't California.


Tortuga must last one more year. ( Whatever transportation spirits that reside around here, please take note.)  My finances will allow a newer, more dependable vehicle in another year. Right now, all I can do is keep the little green Subaru running, safely, and pray my "car karma" has finally evened out.


(You could have burst into flames, today.  You could have been stranded somewhere much farther out, no gas left. You could have been awarded five hundred dollars for the total write off of the car.)


I flop on the bed, next to the open window.
I fall asleep, still listening to the rain.