Well, today the non-sectarian Nichiren Buddhist Gathering of Friends took a field trip to the Wat Thai Buddhist Temple, not far from my home. We met for gongyo and daimoku at the Ankers' home, and then car-pooled to the lovely temple, which you can see from far away.
It has that classical "Anna and the King of Siam" look, with the great gold and crimson roof, and huge, 15-foot, fierce-looking guardian dieties standing sentinel outside the main door.
There were a total of 12 of us meeting at the temple (I met the group there because my car is misbehaving). First, we sat down in a big room together with some Thai retreatants for a luncheon. The Thai retreatants were all dressed in white, and some of our group had gotten this message. I didn't, and of course, was wearing all black!
Lunch was a buffet which some of us adjusted to better than others. Lots of noodles and rice, as well as some cut-up fruit and a plate of what looked like orange rice covered with fish flakes. As I say, some of us were more adventurous than others with what we put on our plates.
We weren't supposed to "engage in socializing" during the meal, which was not easy for those of us who are used to large lunches being a time for catching up and chit-chat. No, we were supposed to be spending our energy being mindful of the food we were eating, and offering silent thanks for the strength it was giving to our bodies. There was even a special prayer before the lunch, something about not overeating, and gratitude for the food.
After lunch, there was some more prayer, mostly in Thai, and we adjourned to the main temple building where we had a look around.
This particular temple boasts what is supposed to be the largest Buddha statue in Los Angeles --and it is, in fact, pretty large. At least 10 feet high, maybe more, and apparently all covered in gold. A group of four orange-robed monks were kneeling on a carpeted platform, engaging some parishioners in a sort of call-and response prayer in Thai. The monks would say something, and then the parishioners would respond.
The altar was covered with offerings of various sorts. Food, trinkets, and lots of flowers. Flowers were everywhere, in fact. Especially purple orchids.
After this, we went to the meditation hall, where the white-garbed retreatants were sitting on mats on the floor, waiting for their speaker to arrive. I know this speaker myself, as I had visited this temple to learn seated and walking silent meditation, and had spoken to him on a couple of occasions last year. He is a young Canadian fellow named (of all things), Noah. The Buddha statue in this meditation hall was a little smaller, but behind it was a lovely mural of some animals cavorting around the Buddha, as well as what looked like either two lovely female Bodhissatvas or two temptresses.
The walking meditation is particularly challenging for those of us who give no thought to how we move our bodies, just sort of propelling ourselves from here to there withour minds on something entirely different. The walking meditation which I learned here last year was quite challenging. I learned to walk very, very slowly. I learned to pay attention while I placed my foot down... heel....foot....ball.....Then the other foot, heel...foot...ball.....It is very interesting being in a room fo people who are all moving very deliberately, at the pace of a lazy snail. I had a teacher work with me last year, and I was happy to run into her again today.
Anyway, Noah was late, due to having broken his glasses and needing to go to the opthalmologist to get a new pair. So, we sat quietly, together with the other retreatants. The Gathering's two children (Ben, aged 2 and Emma, aged 1) were pretty good about not making a lot of noise, and Ben fell asleep on his Daddy's chest for most of the wait.
Finally, Noah the skinny Canadian monk came and took his place on a platform at the front of the room. He and the retreatants did a series of prostrations, and sang some sort of hymn in Thai. I was impressed by the limberness with which he did his low bows. I can see how that kind of thing might not just be a religious requirement, but a cleverly disguised way of keeping fit and flexible!
Then, Noah launched into a talk about our human tendency toward addictions, the Buddha's Middle Way, and the Eightfold Noble Path.....
To be continued......
Be limber, be mindful, be cool.
Byrd in LA
This morning, I was planning on going to the skilled nursing facility where my 79-year old friend Barbara Pike was recovering from her lung cancer surgery. I thought I'd give her a call before going over, and when the young man at the nursing home picked up the phone, he put me on hold for a second. A moment later, he came back to tell me kindly that Barbara died this morning.
Apparently, she passed away peacefully in her sleep sometime between 4:30 am and 7:30 am. Just sort of fell asleep, the way we probably all wish we could go.
Nichiren Buddhists around the world have been chanting for Barbara for over a month, now. The last time I spoke with her, she felt that she had "turned a corner", and was feeling very much on the up-swing.
I grabbed my omamori Gohonzon (the miniature, traveling kind) and headed out the door to the skilled nursing facility. It was my hope that I could get there in time to chant some daimoku with her remains before they were removed.
In the car on my way over, I kept thinking about a quote from Nichiren's writing entitled "The Heritage of the Ultimate Law of Life". In this Gosho, Nichiren writes, in part:
“When the lives of these persons come to an end, they will be received into the hands of a thousand Buddhas, who will free them from all fear and keep them from falling into the evil paths of existence.” How can we possibly hold back our tears at the inexpressible joy of knowing that not just one or two, not just one hundred or two hundred, but as many as a thousand Buddhas will come to greet us with open arms!
That seemed to fit Barbara's passing so perfectly - so many of us, worldwide, all sending her loving and caring Daimoku - like a thousand Buddhas stretching out our arms to her. How wonderful, indeed.
When I got to the nursing home, there were two SGI members already there. A husband and wife, both of whom were friends of Barbara's. They kindly let me take a seat by the bedside. I placed my omamori on Barbara's chest and chanted Daimoku for awhile.
I think if I were going to give Barbara Pike a Bodhissatva name, it would be:
"Bodhissatva Doesn't Mince Words".
That's Barbara to a "T". Whether it was online, or in person, Barbara Pike was going to tell you exactly what she thought of something, and she was going to tell you in no uncertain terms. If you think I'm blunt, well, I'd like you to meet my good friend Barbara! I'm going to miss her chiming in here at my blogsite, too - I always looked forward to hearing what she had to say.
Barbara started practicing Nichiren Buddhism over 30 years ago, back in the 70's. She admired SGI President Daisaku Ikeda, but tempered her admiration by saying how she thought of him as a "peer", someone who has gone through the same world history as she had. I appreciated that perspective.
She also lived through that period of history before sexual harassment in the workplace became illegal - I always find it interesting to talk to older women who managed to succeed in business or in a creative field (Barbara was a writer) before we had any way of fighting back against men who abused their power in the workplace. That struggle made for a lot of scrappy old gals, and Barbara could be very outspoken on the issues. Barbara and the women of her generation struggled hard for rights that young women today take for granted. I'm sorry to see them dying off one by one, and their contributions not being discussed.
Barbara was a regular at the Nichiren Buddhist Gathering of Friends at the Ankers' home in Granada Hills. I frequently picked her up to go over there. I also enjoyed going thrift store shopping with her, and out for an Indian buffet lunch. Her tiny dog, Cinnamon, and her cat Jojo were always well-fed and friendly. Don't worry, they won't be going to an animal pound. We've got people who are willing to take them.
Barbara's apartment is filled with books. She had a particular interest in the evolution of human beings from more primitive forms of life. What we had managed to shed, and what we had kept ahold of as a species. Now that she's gone from this lifetime and this body, I find it interesting to ponder if she may not have "evolved" to a more free and open plane. I hope she has. She deserves it.
Bon voyage, Barbara. We'll miss you.
Your friend, Byrd in LA
I had a good talk earlier today with my friend Barbara Pike, who has been chanting for about 35 years, and who is currently in a skilled nursing facility recovering from lung surgery.
Aside from a quick pop-in by a zone leader a couple of weeks ago, most of Barbara's Buddhist support has come from the online community (like me). I sent her a copy of Charles Atkins' book "Riding the Wheel to Wellness" (thanks, Chuck!). Barbara has really enjoyed reading it, and has also been connectng on a regular basis with her Chinese energy healer, Stanley (helluva Chinese name there, Stanley).
The overall news is good, she does not need radiation or chemotherapy. She is also heartened by the cards she has been receiving from friends she has met online, many in far-flung places. She is encouraged by this "ever-widening circle" of Buddhist friendship, and the interconnecting web of Daimoku that is being chanted for her.
Barbara is currently suffering from something called "dysautonomia" - that is to say, a failure of the autonomic nervous system which makes it hard for her to stand up with out her blood pressure going through the floor and causing her to faint. But I have been focusing my daimoku on her brain and autonomic nervous system and Barbara says that she has "turned a corner," and can really feel the difference since last weekend.
I enjoy knowing that I can be of help to others. It's something I really love about my practice of chanting Nam(u)-Myoho-Renge-Kyo. I don't have to fret too much, and I can always access a healing state of mind to transfer to those who need it.
And our circle of friendships, our circle of people who chant for each other is widening day by day. What a wonderful thing to be a part of. Thank you all for checking in here. I enjoy this blogspace, and I enjoy writing to all of you. Be well and happy.
Byrd in LA
This cat, this new cat is a grown-up. Not a kitten. Quite large. White, with grey spots. He comes in through the open window which my regular cats use, and helps himself to the well-rounded bowl of cat food. I thought the food was going faster than usual. It did seem suspicious. But I just assumed that Toc and Wobbly and the Creature were coming out from their long winter naps and chowing down in preparation for the summer. Not that cats do that, of course, but I had to come up with some sort of excuse for the magically disappearing kibble.
I asked around the co-op to see if anyone else knew about this one, or knew anything about who his family was. People have seen him, of course, the same as they've seen possums darting around by the dumpster. But he doesn't seem to belong to anyone. At least, no-one is taking responsibility for him.
Wobbly and the Creature seem to get along with him OK, but he runs afoul of Toc. In fact, I think that it may have been a scuffle with this cat which caused the abscessed cat bite on Toc's head a few months ago.
I'm looking for a new job these days, and so I have been at home during the daytime, and able to watch what this crafty fellow is up to. This new one comes in through the window when the other cats are passed out asleep on my bed. When the coast is clear, he sneaks in and chomps down on the kibble. Then he high-tails it back out of the window before Toc can catch him.
When Toc does corner him, Toc emits the strangest sound - it is sort of like an ambulance siren filtered through a rattling muffler. And loud, too. Sometimes they make these strangled noises at each other at all odd hours of the night, since this new guy has come in during the night, as well.
So, this morning, I approached the co-op secretary and asked her if she had seen this guy, or if she knew who his humans were.
No, she didn't think he belonged to anyone, but her neighbors had been complaining that he sat outside their window and serenaded them all night long. Singing and singing. Yeah, he does that outside my window, too, I said - and sometimes one of my cats goes out and heckles him. That's why they call it "caterwauling", I guess. And what a set of lungs on this guy! You can hear him all the way down the block!
So, I guess if I have to give him a name, some way of referring to him so that he's not eternally just "that new guy", I shall have to name him after some great singer. Luciano, maybe. Or Elvis. I like Elvis.
Anybody out there have any better ideas? And do you know what I can do to get him to cut it out with the carrying on?
Enquiring minds want to know.....
Sleepless in LA,
Byrd
Well, now I've gone and done it - I've hurt the feelings of a very dear friend (maybe more than one, although one has written to me about it). Actually, I haven't written about the Gakkai for awhile here, so he must have been reading some of my older posts. In the immortal words of Yul Brynner as the King of Siam..."is a puzzlement."
I wonder -- how do we talk about the issues facing the SGI and Nichiren Buddhism in the West without offending people who hold the status quo dear? A lot of people have been able to adapt well to the SGI's culture and structure. As many before me have discovered, there are a lot of good people in the organization who see little or no need for the SGI to change or adapt differently to the West. And these are, as I say, almost without exception extremely good and well-intentioned people. So I'm sure some ideas must come as unpleasant shocks:
1. The notion that not all of us want to focus our Buddhist practice on internal fights and battles - the imagery and the language doesn't work for everyone. That's not to say it doesn't for some, but it doesn't for all. I guess the question is: How do we avoid a one-size-fits-all approach which leaves people feeling as though their failure to conform is a failure of faith?
2. The idea that not everyone is going to want to follow the same leader in the same way. How do we allow for real differences? Can anyone conscientiously object to the Organization-wide Mentor thing? Is there a place for this in the organization? Where?
3. The idea that there are differences to tease out between what is Japanese and what is Buddhist, and that since the SGI-USA organization's leaders are appointed by Japan, the organization is not going to do any of this teasing out for us. Not without permission.
My dear friend thinks I believe that Japanese culture is "inferior" - that's not true. I just think it's different, and it doesn't work here. There's a lot to recommend Japan. They have a much lower rate of violent crime, and they have a decent public health system. You can get sick there and see a doctor. You also don't have to worry about getting mugged or shot or having your bike stolen. But there are also differences (emphasis on group, emphasis on leader) which will influence how Nichiren Buddhism is going to spread (or not) in the West. Is public discussion of this OK, or should it only happen behind closed doors?
4. How do we, as SGI members, relate to those who are not, for reasons of personal choice or of conscence, active in the SGI organization? Do we respect their choices? Can we have interfaith events? Speakers exchanges? Are the Buddhists who choose to practice elsewhere automatically suspect, or enemies? How do we relate to those who differ with us? World peace will depend on how the human race handles this question, and the SGI as an organization is not immune from the labor involved. Nor am I as an individual. Thanks to my friend for bringing that latter point home to me.
Sometimes I get nostalgic for the good old days...the days when I didn' t have these kinds of questions dancing around in my mind. I remember what it was like, and I kind of miss the certainty. But, as they say in law school, you can't un-ring the bell. You can't put the toothpaste back in the tube.
For what it's worth, I honestly don't have any ill-will toward the general membership of the SGI, and I recognize the incredible amount of effort that SGI members put out in caring for each other and in working to improve their environments. We all are heroes in our own ways, and in our own worlds. Congratulations on that.
Be appreciative, be thoughtful, be cool.
Byrd in LA
Today, I was visiting my Mentor in Life, Mavis. You may all remember her as the 83-year old woman (or maybe she's 84, now) who is my favorite person in the world to talk to. I sometimes describe our friendship as being "like Don Juan and Carlos Castandeda without the drugs."
Anyway, I brought her up her usual Saturday morning treat of huevos rancheros with a side of guacamole, and as we sat outside Mavis' trailer, munching away and enjoying the bright rays of sunshine, a neighbor walked by and gave Mavis a tulip plant.
The neighbor was a youngish woman, in her 30's, and she told us of her impending adventure. She was moving from Los Angeles to her dream home-base in (of all places) Tulsa, Oklahoma! She had wanted to move to Tulsa for many years, so that she could attend Oral Roberts University and become a hospital chaplain. She likes Tulsa a lot, and feels that the people there are wonderful - she's excited about the move, and excited about undertaking her studies.
Both Mavis and I nodded at her. Mavis gave her a couple of books -- Mavis picks up books all the time. Sometimes she just gets a "feeling" that she'll run into someone who's right for the book, and that's what happened here. Mavis had picked up some free books from the trailer park laundry room (where residents dump things off for other residents to pick up, if they like). One of these books was on the theme of miracles by televangelist Pat Robertson, and another was a series of Christian meditations. The neighbor graciously accepted the books, went to her car to drop off a load of luggage, and then came back to where Mavis and I were sitting. Came back to witness to us about the miracle of Easter.
"Tomorrow is resurrection Sunday," the young woman said to us. "It's the day when we can thank God for the wonderful thing that Jesus Christ did for us on the cross. Tomorrow morning, you can wake up and greet the day and see the beautiful sunshine and say, thank you, Lord. Thank you for what you did on the cross for me."
Mavis and I sort of nodded. Mavis thanked her again, most profusely, for the lovely pink tulip, and the young woman went away.
It had been a long time since anybody talked to me like that, and I was filled with a strange sense of envy. Envy. An odd emotion in the circumstance, and I took a moment to sort it through before discussing it with Mavis. What was I envious of? This young woman's simple faith. There was nothing complex, nothing multi-layered. She actually believed that the greatest power in the universe, God, required a blood sacrifice, and that Jesus had performed this as an act of love on her behalf. It was all very clear to her.
Now, for me, the questions pop up so demandingly and so incessantly that there's no way I could ever go into her world of faith with her.
Question: Did Jesus know what he was doing? In other words, did he himself believe that he was accessing a divine paradise for others by his suffering? If so, then there's nothing so fabulous about the suffering. Hell, I might undertake some torture too, if I actually, honestly, believed in my heart of hearts that all of humanity would be "saved" as a result. Isn't that the old Bodhissatva spirit, after all?
And to top it off, there are whole schools of Tibetan Buddhism that actually train their believers to meditate on assuming others' karmic burdens. I don't know how many students at Oral roberts University have heard of this practice, and sometimes I wonder what they would have to say about it.
Or did God's plan for redemption require that Jesus suffer in ignorance? The answer to that question tells us a lot about the nature of the "love" which is offered by this young woman's God.
Question: Why does God require a blood sacrifice at all? This is the area where I think that Islam has the goods on Christianity. Their whole take on this issue is to say "God is God. He can forgive anybody he wants any time he wants." No special relationship necessary. No intermediary necessary, no believing in a particular set of miracles, nothing like that. What a relief.
For me, as a Buddhist, I can never go back to a belief system where somebody else (Adam) incurs the debt, and somebody else (Jesus) pays the bill. But it looks so temptingly easy in comparison, doesn't it?
Growing up in the Missouri Synod Lutheran Church, Easter Sunday was always about new shoes and a new hat and a pretty Easter lily to give to my mother. Now, it's a strange encounter with an enviable and irrational certainty.
"I envy her" I said to Mavis. "I envy that she is so certain and secure in her stories. She's so certain, and I just can't go there with her."
Mavis nodded and said, "I can." She then offered her opinion that the young woman in question would probably make an excellent chaplain, either in a hospital setting, or in the military. "She'll be able to do a lot of good, wherever she goes."
And then, Mavis shared with me her theory that what matters is the heart, and that for those people who are motivated by a selfless desire to serve and do good, a sure path would open up in front of them, regardless of what "religion" they belonged to. That the "Big Whatever" (as I like to call it) blesses and shines down on everybody like the sun, and we all turn our faces to it in our own way, as we each walk our own path.
That put me in mind of the "Medicinal Herbs" Chapter of the Lotus Sutra, and the image of a sweet rain falling on all plants, and helping all to grow according to their nature. I also thought about how Nichiren named himself "Sun Lotus" because the warm rays of the Daimoku illuminate everything. So, I don't really have to envy anybody after all.
Have a Happy Easter, all.
Byrd in LA
My most recent Bodhissatva manifestation has been back in the realm of literacy tutoring. My dear old Toyota was on its last legs, so I asked my pupil to follow me home from our study session at the library last Tuesday night. On the way, I wanted to stop at the supermarket to buy some tuna for the furry little you-know-whats.
My tutee came into the store with me, and... wow! I didn't now there were so many opportunities to learn reading at the supermarket!
There are huge, easy to read signs all over the place, like:
"BIG SAVINGS!
LOOK FOR THE YELLOW TAG!"
We had just finished learning our colors, so he knew the word "yellow", and the word "tag" looks a lot like "bag", which was a word we had learned, so that was a great sign to read.
Another fabulous feature of learning to read at the supermarket is that the words and the items are right there together, so if you have trouble with reading, you can look at the picture. For example, the word "apples" is right next to the apples, and the word "cat litter" is on a bag of cat litter, with a drawing of a cat in a cat box. Here are some other examples:
"Sweet Green Peas" on a frozen bag with a picture of green peas.
"Mashed Potatoes" on a frozen box with a picture of a big bowlful of mashed potatoes.
"Pizza" on a box with a picture of a pizza, and so on.
I know this must sound absurdly elementary to you, my dear readers, but I had honestly not ever given the slightest thought to the fact that you could learn the words "chicken pot pie" by sounding out the words and getting a clue from the pictures. I always just grabbed the pie and threw it in my cart without thinking.
Now that I think about it, I'll bet that the people who do marketing and package design take the illiterate population into account when they design the packaging. Believe it or not, you can actually go shopping and get what you want by only looking at the pictures on the packages. I guess that's what my student has been doing all these years.
I know that in England, they used to hang paintings outside the public houses, so that people who couldn't read would be able to find their way in for a pint. Like the "Bull and Bear" pub would have a painting of a bull and a bear. "The Three Crowns" would have a picture of three crowns. A cobbler shop would have a picture of a boot or a shoe, and a tinker would have a picture of a pot or a pan.
Remember years ago when they had "blue wrap" generic goods? Like, back in the 70's? Come on, old-timers! Remember that? Whatever happened to those? I'm starting to think that the "blue wrap" generic goods got phased out because there weren't any pictures to help people know what was in the can or the box. Imagine this: You can't read, you buy something, and then you are totally surprised by what's in the can when you open it at home! What a fun game that would be to play! Ack!
So, anyway, the next night my student and I went to K-Mart to learn some more important words, like "housewares", "shoes", "automotive", and "bras". This also gave me an opportunity to get the tag taken out of my purse. You see, I bought a purse at K-Mart a week or so ago, and they neglected to take the anti-theft device out of the purse. So, everytime I would walk into a supermarket or a video store, or any place like that, my purse would set off a shoplifter siren.
So, the next time you go shopping, take a minute to really appreciate all the reading that's involved..."milk", "cereal", "rice and beans", "avocados", whatever.
Have a great weekend, all. Read to your heart's content!
Byrd in LA
...Nicole Kidman and Leslie Nielsen were performing spinal surgery on me. I was lying face down on the operating table, and they were futzing around in my back. I was worried that it would hurt, but it didn't.
I have my own idea of what this might mean, but I am curious as to whether anyone here has any fabulous insights.....
Enquiring minds want to know.
Byrd in LA
This morning, my bodhissatva mission was to visit a dear friend who finds herself temporarily in a nursing facility recovering from lung cancer surgery. Since next week is Easter Week (I tend to forget these things unless I'm reminded), the supermarket floral section was chock-full of tulip plants. So, I picked up a nice plant with several un-opened, pretty pink tulips buds, as well as a get-thee-well card, and brought them with me to the nursing facility.
I met my friend Barbara Pike online. She is a longtime SGI member, but as stubborn a free-thinker as you would care to meet. She's also a regular at the non-denominational Gathering of Friends at the Ankers' home. I love her apartment, as it is filled to the rafters with books on all sorts of subjects. She also is a writer, like me, so we talk about writing and books. We also enjoy thrift-store shopping, and going out for lunch together.
A few months ago, as part of her annual physical, Barbara's chest X-ray showed a spot on her lung. She started on a daimoku campaign, and was chanting several hours a day. She was referred to one of the best doctors in the field, and two weeks ago, she had one of those laparoscopic surgeries, where they don't have to make a big incision. The wonders of modern medicine....
Anyway, the news is good...they got out all the cancer, and
Barbara won't be needing either chemo or radiation. Hurray! She is, however, almost 80 years old, and so she's in a skilled nursing facility getting her strength back.
She seemed really happy to see me when I arrived with her pretty pink tulip-bud plant. I had brought along my omamori (travelling) Gohonzon, but we decided to talk for a bit before chanting.
We had plenty to catch up on. She wanted me to convey her apprecation for all the daimoku that has been chanted for her by her online friends. She expressed this gratitude in an interesting way. She said "I appreciate all the interweaving daimoku."
Interweaving daimoku, I had never thought of it that way. For years, I had been challenging myself to chant strong, united daimoku, like a tidal wave, or maybe a battering ram. But Barbara's image of "interweaving daimoku" was really attractive to me. It reminded me of the image of Indra's net - the universal web of all phenomena, of which we are all a part.
I like that idea - each of us sending out a thread, and that thread interweaving with the threads of all others, and creating a sort of compassionate safety net for each other, a warm and radiant interweaving web of the mystic law. How lovely. I fell really privileged that she gave me that image....now I am passing it forward and giving it to you.
And as we sat there and talked, the most amazing thing happened....the pink tulip buds which had been closed tightly when I brought them in began to open. "Look!" I said, and pointed to them. And sure enough...there they were, opened up and blossoming before our eyes. A nurse came in and noticed, too. "I saw those when you came in!" she exclaimed. "They were all closed up, and look at them now!"
Who knows why those blossoms opened so beautifully, right in front of us? I gave Barbara a wink and said, "It must be your warm heart."
So we sat the tulip plant directly behind the omamori Gohonzon, so that it looked like there was a huge, pink, treasure tower of Springtime joy growing up out of the mandala. That made it especially pretty to chant to.
What an excellent way to start off my day.
Have a good weekend, all.
Be open, be joyful, be cool.
Byrd in LA
A new blogger here has started me back thinking about the role that "rebuking slander" has in Nichiren Buddhism. Personally, I'm suffering from a bad case of battle fatigue, and don't want anything more to do with the Nichiren community's propensity for "rebuking slander of the Law."
Those of you who were unfortunate enough to live through the SGI's "divorce" from Nichiren Shoshu back in the 1990s will recall that during that time, the world wide web was awash in "e"-bukes from all corners of the Nichiren Buddhist world. I would compare it to a mud-wrestling match, except I don't think any of the participants would look particularly good in a bikini. Myself included.
And now, the "e"buke war is threatening to start up again. Bleh, I say! Bleh, bleh! Honestly, if playing one-upmanship games is what makes someone a "true" NIchiren Buddhist, then maybe those of us who are interesting in cultivating the states of mind which will lead us toward a peaceful planet simply need to seek out some other, less combative school.
Our shared fascination with "slander", and the SGI's current fascination with "fundamental darkness" remind me of the concept of "sin" I learned in the Missouri Synod Lutheran Church. I grew up listening to "Christians" who denounced Satan and rebuked his minions, doing the work of the Lord in claiming the world for Christ in the same way that some particularly rabid Nichiren Buddhists will denounce Nichiren Shoshu, or the SGI, or the Nichiren Shu in order to advance "the Buddha's decree" of kosen-rufu. We have to save people from themselves, and from the deceitful machinations of the evil "other". well, I'm waking up and realizing that it didn't work for me when I was a Lutheran, and it doesn't work for me now.
So, how is "slander" like "sin" ?
Well, for one thing, it causes you to go to the hell of incessant suffering.
Secondly, rebuking slander, like rebuking sin, is a duty. You can't just sort of look the other way and hum the soundtrack to "Hairspray". You have to say something about the sin or slander, otherwise you're complicitous. The net result is that you sort of become a policeman to everybody else's thoughts and speech, otherwise you'll go to hell. Yuck. Exactly what I hated about the Lutherans.
Third, there is a narrow path which steers you clear of sin and slander -- the sole way to navigate the rocky road of error. Many are called, but few are chosen, as they say. In the SGI, that narrow path is, of course, the path of Mentor and Disciple, with Daisaku Ikeda as your Mentor. That pathis what saves you from becoming a slanderer. In Nichiren Shoshu, it is the Inheritance of the Law by a Single Person (the high priest), and so on. The narrow path in Christianity is, of course, faith in our Lord Jesus Christ.
So, maybe this sin/slander thing is really just my karma, eh? Maybe it's my karma to go from one rebuking church to another. I'll tell you one thing for sure, though....I don't want to be re-born in a fundamentalist family. I don't want to be raised up in a household full of rebukers -- no way. So what's the best way for me to steer clear of that, the next time around? Maybe I should rebuke the rebukers? Huh? Maybe I should denounce the rebukers, or just ridicule the rebukers.
Or maybe I should just put it under the waterfall of my "washing daimoku" and let it show me what kind of Buddhahood lies beneath all this rebuking. Yeah...now that's an idea I can live with.
Be flexible, be open-minded, be cool.
Byrd in LA
An online pal of mine at one of the yahoo boards was recently chirping about how wonderful it would be if the SGI-USA would establish some online "blogs" by various leaders. This would allow for member feedback and some real-time online interaction between the organization and its membership. Of course, this friend of mine is young-ish, and a part of the online generation. To him, it would make all the sense in the world for the SGI-USA to develop an interactive online presence.
After all, zen Buddhists blog, Tibetan Buddhists blog, Nichiren Shu ministers blog, Christian ministers blog. Mormons blog, fer cryin' out loud. Check this out:
http://mormonblogs.org/
Heck, my cat would blog if he could get his nose out of the food bowl long enough to gather his thoughts. Maybe I should set that up for him: tunatreat.com.
Anyway, pretty much everybody has an interactive online presence except the SGI-USA, the one organization which is going to bring peace to our suffering planet by making Nichiren's practice of the Lotus Sutra accessible to everybody. This deafening online silence seems particularly odd given the SGI-USA's emphasis on attracting and retaining youth division members -- people who belong to a generation that practically lives online.
What's up with that?
The SGI-USA leadership generally discourages online interaction between members - chat boards, and so on. The general wisdom is that face-to-face communication is "better" for dialogue, because you can see the other person's gestures and hear their tone of voice. What the leaders who dole out this wisdom don't mention is that face-to-face discussions also limit you to only dialoguing with people who live in your immediate area, and they make it hard to keep a record of what was discussed.
I've also heard SGI-USA leaders condemn the online environment for offering "untrustworthy" information about the SGI, saying that exposure to internet discussions will "confuse" the membership - particularly newer members. Of course, this is the problem with almost any kind of public media. Any big topic of public discussion - let's take the war in Iraq - provokes a huge variety of opinion online. People who are web-savvy usually are able to figure out where you go to get what slant. It's like reading magazines or newspapers - obviously, the Copley Press and the LA Times have different editorial slants, and you know that when you pick up the paper. Differences in opnion are something we sort of take for granted online. So, what's the worry? Why the deafening silence?
I have my ideas, I'm curious to hear yours. (Note to Santa Monica: it's OK if you chime in, you can use a false name.)
Be open, be outspoken, be cool.
Byrd in LA
Today, I got to do a completely different Bodhissatva function. I helped out at an aid station for the LA Marathon.
As some of you may recall, I joined a walking/running/marathon training group (the "LA Leggers") back in August after I had a severe high blood pressure episode and decided to start exercising more.
I suffered an injury to my foot in November, and had to pull back on my training at about the 10-mile mark, but I decided to pitch in to support my group at an LA Leggers aid station at the big event today anyway.
So, today I was up at 5:15 am again! (Yesterday I had to get up at the same ungodly hour to go down to the LA County jail for visiting hours). Tomorrow, I'll be able to sleep until 6:00 on a work morning - what a luxury!!!
Anyway, I met my friend Michele and some other LA Leggers for breakfast at the 5-Star Omni Hotel in downtown LA, where the Legger group was kicking off for the Marathon's start at Universal City. The five star price for a breakfast of bacon and eggs? $12.50!! And that's not even including a cup of coffee! Youch! In all fairness, however, they did not have the usual little plastic jam packets with the tear-off tops. They had a high-class little lazy-susan in the middle of the table that held tiny, single serving glass jars of marmalade and jam with the labels in German and French. Lah-dee-dah. I guess that accounts for the price.
After breakfast, we headed out to Mile 22 of the 26.2 mile marathon course, where we set up a couple of card tables with water, salty pretzels, hard candy, and some beverage called "Accelerade", which looks like Hawaiian Punch, but is supposed to contain some fabulous minerals or other. And then we waited as the first hardy front-runners came around the corner, heading into the home stretch.
We cheered and cheered, and then waited for the big surge of team members to come by - when they did, my SGI-USA Byakuren Group experience really came in handy. I was armed with a spray bottle filled with something called "Fit 'N Kool" (or maybe it's "Kool 'N Fit"), an anesthetic spray which smells pretty medicinal. There was a big, gallon-sized spray bottle with a long hose and nozzle on it - it really looked like something you would use to kill termites. So, in honor of this mission, today my Bodhissatva name was "Bodhissatva Bug Spray."
I had another "I love LA" experience with this marathon experience. There were all kinds of folks out there running the big one. All races, all sizes, all ages, and all genders. There was one ancient Asian fellow who was actually one of the faster runners - he must have been 80 years old. I thought - wow! I want to be like that when I'm old and gray! There were also a bunch of young people in aqua-blue shirts that said "Students Run LA" - these were kids who had been drafted out of the public schools, who had been in training for months for the big day. I was really glad to see them out there.
My mission was not just to watch in amazement as my fellow Angelenos huffed and puffed past the aid station. I was there to help my team-mates. The Leggers would troupe up to the card tables, exhausted and sweating, and I would step forward and spray their calves and quads and ankles with the anesthetic stuff in the bug spray jar so that the Leggers could get going again and finish up their race.
We had one near-emergency when a fellow (not a Legger, but we helped him anyway) collapsed at our aid station, clutching at his twitching legs in agony. We sprayed him down, and one of us massaged his legs for him. Ultimately, he was able to get up and soldier on. Talk about a never-give-up spirit! I was impressed.
So, today, my bodhissatva mission was just to provide what relief and assistance I could to those stalwart souls who were out there running the full 26.2.
Sometimes, supporting is all that we can do, and I know that it's appreciated.
Be healthy, be supportive, be cool.
Byrd in LA
Years ago, a friend of mine and I were reading the Lotus Sutra and remarking on the names of some of the Bodhisstvas. Bodhissatva Magnificent Sound, Bodhissatva Wisdom Adorned, Bodhissatva Golden Golden Lotus Light, and so on and so on (I don't hava sutra in front of me, so I can't give you the exact names, but you know what I mean).
It was sort of like those Sioux Indian names from "Dances With Wolves" - Wind in His Hair, Sitting Bull, Smiles A Lot, and like that. My friend and I had a good time dreaming up fun and fabulous (and sometimes less than flattering) Bodhissatva names for ourselves and others. Like Bodhissatva Streaming Golden Farts. Or Great Bodhissavta Foot Odor Adorned. Come to think of it, many of those Bodhissatva names had to do with some sort of fragrant bodily function - but that's just because my friend and I have immature, adolescent senses of humor.
Today, I took my Bodhissatva butt down to someplace I had never been before - the LA County Jail Twin Towers facility in downtown Los Angeles. When you go back to see your prisoner, you can't take anything with you -- not a magazine, not a purse, not a candy bar, nothing. All you can take is your driver's license, a car key and a locker key to one of the lockers where they let you leave your stuff. That's why today my Bodhissatva name is "Bodhissatva Taking Nothing".
I got to the jail at 7:00 am, the doors opened at 7:30, and I got to see my dear cousin at about 10:30 - so much for getting in and getting out. I thought it would be a much quicker procedure, like checking out at the grocery store.
After I got off the subway, I had a hard time finding the building. I waved down a sheriff's car to ask the officers where the jail was. He gestured with his hand and said, "Right over there, ma'am." I followed his hand and yup, there it was...d'oh....gee, I guess it must be that huge, windowless, multi-story concrete bunker-type building surrounded by barbed wire. The sheriff must have thought I was a real dope. A blind man could see that jail.
When I got to the the visitor's area, one of the first things I noticed was that I was just about the only Caucasian in a room full of about 200 people waiting for prisoner visits. I'd heard that the criminal justice system was racist, but now I really believe it. Either the white prisoners don't have families, or they're kept in some other jail....like...say, Brentwood or Beverly Hills.
First, you have to stand in line for a long, long, long time to get to a window where you are "helped" by a deputy who would much rather talk to his colleagues about a football game than look up your prisoner's booking number. Then, you get to sit down on some huge blocks which hold about 35 people apiece and just wait until your prisoner's name is called.
Fortunately, I had brought along some reading material, and I was able to spend a very pleasant waiting period looking at my National Geographic Magazine with an eight-year old girl who was very, very bright. She was able to recognize and name all the animals which had pictures in the magazine --well, all except a lemur, but that's an understandable mistake. We made friends, and I encouraged her to think about becoming a veterinarian.
Finally, they called my prisoner's name and I walked back through a series of long, white, windowless corridors, until I finally got to a room where my cousin was sitting on the other side of a think, plexiglass wall -- just like in the movies. You talk to each other through a black telephone handset - he picks up one on his side and you pick up one on your side.
"Jesus, it's like a jail in here!" I exclaimed, and then I remembered that this was because it was, in fact, a jail. Another brilliant intellectual breakthrough moment for Bodhissatva Big Brain.
We chatted away, and he gave me the name of his public defender. He also gave me some messages to take to his mother and sister on the "outside" - he'll be out in just a coupleof weeks, though, and able to talk to them himself.
It's really shocking how expensive things are at the jail commissary. $4 for a pad of paper, $10 for a pair of reading glasses you could get at the 99 cent store. And you can go online and send goodie packages to your prisoner, but it's all crap and junk food. You can go online and spend $50 to send your prisoner Spam and Fritos and Cap'N Crunch cereal. You couldn't get a plain old healthy apple or banana in there to your guy if you bribed somebody.
You can send books, though, as long as they come direct from the publisher. This past week, I sent my dear coz a couple of books on Buddhism from Amazon.com. He got them and was grateful for that.
So, today, all I had to offer my loved one at the Twin Towers was myself. Bodhissatva Taking Nothing. Nothing but a smile and an "I love you." That had to suffice, and I think it did.
Be patient, be law-abiding, be cool.
Byrd in LA