The assassin maneuvered his way to the front, hand in his pocket, gripping the pistol. The crowd had been waiting for a while. The person whom they were waiting for was late. Eventually they saw him come up the pathway, draped in the shadows of the warm evening, accompanied by two members of his “family.” The assassin stood calm, resolute.

When his target was just a few yards from the wooden platform, Nathuram Godse, stepped forward and blocked the path. He bowed in respect and then fired. Three bullets from the .38 Beretta semi-automatic pistol slammed into the body of Mohandas Karamchand Gandhi, who murmured the words, “Oh, God,” and fell to the ground where he died within moments.

January 30, 1948. Sixty-three years ago. Louis Fischer, a well-known journalist at the time, later wrote of Gandhi: “His legacy is courage, his lesson truth, his weapon love. His life is his monument. He now belongs to mankind.”

In the wake of the Tucson tragedy, there has been much talk about how we as a free society should talk. The dust has not settled and exactly what direction this dialogue about the words we use in public discourse will take is yet unknown, but one encouraging sign is that there has been little, if any, of the kind of the revenge talk that followed the Oklahoma City bombing. Revenge, not justice allowed Timothy McVeigh to get the easy way out with a death sentence, which, by the way, was exactly what he wanted.

While all sides have some responsibility to take for the sorry state of our national discourse, I firmly believe that the lion’s share belongs to the right wing/conservative element. It began in the 1990’s when Newt Gingrich told Republicans that they should target liberals and Democrats by calling into question their patriotism, their faith, and their morality. Gingrich’s “Contract with America” in reality was little more than a contract on political opponents. The mean-spirited, exaggerated political rhetoric shot off by angry, gun-metal mouths has continued unabated, but had someone been able to pull the plug on this license to lie and smear back then when it started, or had we not listened, then we might not find ourselves in the situation we are in today.

As the leader of India’s hard-won struggle for independence, Mohandas K. Gandhi became the international symbol of a free India. He lived a spiritual and ascetic life of prayer, fasting, and meditation. He was so admired by his countrymen that he was called Mahatma, meaning ‘Great Soul,’ a title reserved for the greatest sages.

The extraordinary life and teachings of this man still inspires and remains a brilliant example today,  and especially in these days, there is we have much we can learn from his legacy.  These thoughts of Gandhi’s, from his autobiography, seem apropos to the present moment, words that all of us could benefit by reflecting on:

The iconic photo by Margaret Bourke-White.

I must say that, beyond occasionally exposing me to laughter, my constitutional shyness has been no disadvantage whatever. In fact I can see that, on the contrary, it has been all to my advantage. My hesitancy in speech, which was once an annoyance, is now a pleasure. Its greatest benefit has been that it has taught me the economy of words. I have naturally formed the habit of restraining my thoughts. And I can now give myself the certificate that a thoughtless word hardly ever escapes my tongue or pen. I do not recollect ever having had to regret anything in my speech or writing. I have thus been spared many a mishap and waste of time. Experience has taught me that silence is part of the spiritual discipline of a votary of truth. Proneness to exaggerate, to suppress or modify the truth, wittingly or unwittingly, is a natural weakness of man and silence is necessary in order to surmount it. A man of few words will rarely be thoughtless in his speech; he will measure every word. We find so many people impatient to talk. There is no chairman of a meeting who is not pestered with notes for permission to speak. And whenever the permission is given the speaker generally exceeds the time-limit, asks for more time, and keeps on talking without permission. All this talking can hardly be said to be of my benefit to the world. It is so much waste of time. My shyness has been in reality my shield and buckler. It has allowed me to grow. It has helped me in my discernment of truth.

Oh, a storm is threat’ning my very life today
If I don’t get some shelter, oh yeah, I’m gonna fade away

Murder, it’s just a shot away, it’s just a shot away

- Rolling Stones

Shootings. Bombs. America has become a battleground, once more. This week I heard echoes of the 1960’s.  The sound of breakage, things that have been broken for all these years, shattering all over again.

The sheriff in Arizona, a state that has moved in a disturbing direction in recent years, made a few statements about the effect on unbalanced people when they listen to vitriolic remarks coming out of certain mouths about tearing down the government. Nothing new there. We were pretty vitriolic about the Viet Nam war, and tearing down the government. But the current situation has another flavor altogether. Where there was bitterness before, now there is poison.

Two of the problems we have not properly addressed in the last forty odd years are mental illness and guns. The formula looks like this: mental issues + vitriol + easy access to semi-automatic weapons = tragedy.

In an interdependent world, what is said on talk radio or in political campaigns is not removed from incidents such as Tucson. Playing with violent metaphors is a dangerous game. Immediately behind it, we see the specious maxim of “the end justifies the means”. I am so righteous in my position that I am justified in any wrongdoing I commit in order to propagate my view.

This is an issue that Buddhism addresses directly, for this destructive mind-set is the product of contentiousness, the clinging to views.

As I have mentioned before Nagarjuna, the real architect of Mahayana Buddhist philosophy, regarded non-contentiousness (anapalambha) as the very heart of the Buddha’s teachings. The tendency to seize, to cling, is the root of conflict and suffering.

I believe that I can count on one hand the number of Buddhist writers and teachers I know of who have spoken at any length about the emptiness of views. And yet, an understanding of this principle is a cure to much of the sickness in our society.

Nagarjuna said,

The wayfarer that can understand this [non-contentiousness] does not seize, does not cling to anything, does not imagine that this alone is true (and not that). He does not quarrel with anyone. He can thus enjoy the flavor of the nectar of the Buddha’s doctrine. Those teachings are wrong which are not of this nature (i.e., non-contentious and accommodative). If one does not accommodate other doctrines, does not know them, does not accept them, he indeed is the ignorant. Thus, then, all those who quarrel and contend are devoid of wisdom. Why? Because every one of them refuses to accommodate the views of others. That is to say, there are those who say that what they themselves speak is the highest, the real, the pure truth, that the doctrines of others are words, false and impure.

This is from the standpoint of the ultimate truth. Conventionally, of course, views are natural and necessary. But the views, as views, themselves are empty, because they are only relative. Clinging to a specific view in an extreme manner causes pain to oneself or others and can set into motion situations that spark suffering in an even wider arc. Extremism as a consequence of excessive clinging manifests itself in many different ways. It may be angry words at someone who disagrees with your view. It might placing an ideological opponent on a map with simulated gun sights. It might be putting that opponent in the crosshairs of a Glock.

To obtain an understanding of non-contentiousness is what Nagarjuna called “The State of Prajna-paramita” – the state of transcendent wisdom, freedom from conflict, the state of mind where all contention ceases:

In the ultimate truth, all the different views disappear, all the activities of the mind return and enter the true nature (dharmata) and there is no other sphere for the mind to reach. There all words cease: the world is itself beheld in its true nature as Nirvana and not anything different. It is this wisdom by means of which one realizes this ultimate truth that is called the eye of wisdom.

The madness that stems from clinging to views is stopped by us when we realize the emptiness of views. We all have a part that we play in this psychodrama. If what is said on talk radio is not removed from the incident in Tucson, neither are our own thoughts, words and deeds. It reminds me of the line in another Stones song, Sympathy for the Devil: “I shouted out ‘Who killed the Kennedys?’ When after all It was you and me.”

There is no shortage of extremism. It’s everywhere. Even in Buddhism. I see  clinging to views and vitriol frequently in the Buddhist blogosphere. The angry comments when views are challenged. Tasteless humor. Belittling others for their sense of themselves and for the paths they follow. Typing and categorizing others. And I can’t help but feel that a preoccupation with masturbation and farting is not only out of place, it’s also not indicative of a well-balanced, healthy adult. Maybe it is a generational thing, but I suspect it has more to do with one’s level of maturity and grasp of Buddha-dharma. And I am confident that in the coming days there will be no shortage either of denouncements of the recent events from some of the folks who themselves contribute to the current heated atmosphere.

In a free society anyone can have any view they wish to have, although in certain cases there is a requirement to have enough expertise to advance a particular view. But clinging to a view so tightly that one is propelled into violent action has no place. On that, surely we all agree. But where and when do we begin to give up the excessive clinging that leads to the countless “little murders” we commit in our mind on a daily basis?

Buddhism has a cure for this senseless violence. It starts with you and me.

I tell you love, sister, it’s just a kiss away
It’s just a kiss away
It’s just a kiss away
It’s just a kiss away
It’s just a kiss away
Kiss away, kiss away

Words like “confession”, “repentance”, “apology”, and even “prayer” seem out of place in a Buddhist context, at least they often do to me. For instance, if one were to say a prayer of apology, to whom is it offered? There is no God. Buddha is dead. The universe? Well, maybe . . .

And yet, despite how these words might rub against our sensibilities, they are important subjects in Buddhism. It’s taught that a prerequisite for changing karma, or tenju kyojo (actually lessening karmic retribution), is repentance and confession of one’s errors. And the answer to whom is addressed I think is ourselves.

I like to look at it more as recognition and determination. Recognizing one’s mistakes is the first step to not repeating them. Then we make a determination to stay on that course. It’s a conversation we have with our own mind.

The second chapter of Shantideva’s Guide to the Bodhisattva’s Way of Life is dedicated to the “Confession of Error.” When we see the word “confession” we might think of it in the Christian sense, of confessing one’s sins to a priest. In Buddhism, monks and priests do not hear confessions, at least not in any formal way, as far as I am aware. It’s a personal and private act.

One of the definitions of “confess” that I found at Dictionary.com is “to own or admit as true.” This is close to what we mean by confession in Buddhism – to own our mistakes, take responsibility for them, and by admiting our errors and seeing them as a truth, a fact, we drive another stake into the heart of the delusion that made us want to commit them.

When Shantideva says, “Overwhelmed by the deceptions of ignorance, I rejoiced in what was done, but now seeing these mistakes, from my heart I declare them to the Buddhas”, he is really declaring them to himself. He is opening himself up for his own inspection. Before we can rectify the external situation, we must transform the internal one.

We can’t change until we see ourselves as we truly are, until we become honest with ourselves. And seeing that we have made mistakes, that we have negative tendencies and bad habits, does not make us a “bad” person, merely truthful.

The Chinese T’ien-t’ai master, Chih-i, advanced a theory in the 6th century that was rather controversial at the time. He said that even Buddhas have evil natures. Previously, and still today, many consider a Buddha to be free of errors, completely cleansed of any impurities. But Chih-i maintained that this is not realistic, rather it is dualistic. Good and evil are not two separate things, they are two sides of the same coin.

Chih-i developed a number of meditations of evil, based on the idea, as described by Neal Donner in “Chih-i’s Meditation on Evil”, of “Entering into evil thought and impulses in order to understand them and thereby become liberated from them . . .” Chih-i also authored a repentance rite, known as the Kuan Yin Repentance which is still preformed at various Chinese temples today. In the Japanese Journal of Religious Studies 1987 1412-3, David Chapell comments on Chih-i’s concept of repentance by saying, “repentance for wrongs involves not just a change of behavior, but also a change in understanding . . .  Moral defects are based not just on misdeeds and bad habits, but also at a more basic level on incorrect understanding. Thus, we need to repent errors of behavior . . .  and of understanding . . .”

In Japanese Buddhism, individual repentance is called zange.  It’s often called a “prayer of apology.” Actually it means repentance; confession; penitence. Zange has been associated primarily with the Lotus Sutra sects, but it was also significant practice in Zen.

In the 1970’s a top leader in the Soka Gakkai gave a lecture on changing karma from which a formula for zange was developed. When I first encountered it, I thought it to be rather profound. It’s like a checklist, to go down as one meditates or chants. The idea is to spend some time reflecting on each section or item.

Since I know that few people outside of the Lotus traditions are familiar with it, I thought I would share this zange (with some changes to make it a bit more universal), in case someone might find it useful. Although it seems geared toward reflection on a specific incident, it can be used in a more general way, as sort of a script for this conversation with ourselves, and while  using it, one should keep in mind the points made above.

ZANGE (Buddhist Apology and Repentance)

Appreciation:

For being able to practice Dharma.

For being able to change my Karma (Tenju Kyoju).

For being alive at this time.

For all the people around me.

For everything being a teacher to me.

Self-realization:

Realize again that for every external cause, there is first an internal cause.

Every hurt, anger, frustration, irritation or painful situation that occurs to me is my responsibility.

Through my karma, I forced that to happen, or forced them to behave that way.

Hendoku Iyaku – I can turn poison into medicine.

Become aware of my own internal “hooks” that drew such an experience to me.

I, alone, am responsible for raising my life-condition.

Apology:

For current negativity in thought, word and action.

Loving-kindness – offer thoughts for the health and well-being of the person(s) involved, and that they may deepen their own compassion. Ask myself “what can I do to rectify the situation?”

Determination:

To not want to engage in negative thoughts, words, or actions anymore.

To work harder to be of benefit to others.

To create harmonious relationships in the areas of family relations, school, or work.

When I wrote about karma last week, I left a few things out to make a shorter post. So, now is as good a time as any . . .

My own introduction to dharma was through Japanese Buddhism. First Zen, then Nichiren. So it’s somewhat natural for me to have an affinity and fondness for the way Japanese Buddhists see things.

In Japanese, the word karma consists to two Chinese characters: Shuku Mei. Here is a diagram, copied from an old publication I have, and please excuse my poor calligraphy:

Shuku means “to dwell.” It also refers to the accumulation of habits from the past or thought patterns previously acquired. Mei means “life” or reality. Put together it is “that which dwells in one’s life.”

Now, as we should all know by now, the Indian word karma (karman) or kamma means “action.” In early Buddhism, this word was used specifically in relation to volition, referring to the intention or motivation behind an action. But there is another dimension in which the seeds of past motivations and the resulting behavior dwell within the present life.

In this broader view of karma, according to the diagram above, we see that shuku mei is comprised of three general components. The first, shuku en, refers to relationships or environment. This means that karma can be influenced by external factors. For instance, someone brought up in a hostile family atmosphere will undertake different sorts of actions than they would if they were in a more loving family environment.

Secondly, we have shuku ju – tendency or habit. Different circumstances, such as environment, heredity, biological makeup and so on, contribute to the way a person tends to think, speak and behave, and repetition then becomes a factor. Ju also means “to learn.” In this way it is possible to learn certain behaviors, through the repetition of both the external stimuli and the reactions to it. This is consistent with what we know from behavioral psychology, where behavior is shaped by childhood experience and other external circumstances. However, Behaviorism sees no need to investigative the internal conditions, the external are the beginning and the end of the matter, whereas in Buddhism external stimuli are only a contributing factors toward the overall behavior of an individual.

Finally, we have shuku go, past acts that produce future effects. This, of course, is the law of cause and effect: what goes around, comes around. Karma.

I feel that it is a mistake to assign everything to karma or to make statements such as “there are no accidents.” Of course there are accidents. And coincidences. We live in an interdependent reality, so we should not negate the importance of external factors or dismiss chaos. Karma is a web of interconnecting causes and conditions. It is impossible to isolate any one factor, be it internal or external, as the prime generator. It’s everything, all together.

Even so, there is a point at which karma is largely determined by our response not only to external stimuli, but internal factors as well. Fairly early on in life we are able to make choices about how we react. We know the difference between good and bad behavior and then it is really up to us what kind of karma we create.

Furthermore, it’s suggested that karma is not exclusive to sentient beings. Nagarjuna once said that mountains have karma. And there may be collective karma, somewhat similar to Jung’s notion of the collective consciousness.  As groups, as nations, we make causes that can come back to haunt us. The chickens can come home to roost in an individual and in a society.

The universe that we inhabit and our shared perception of it are the results of a common karma. Likewise, the places that we will experience in future rebirths will be the outcome of the karma that we share with the other beings living there. The actions of each of us, human or nonhuman, have contributed to the world in which we live. We all have a common responsibility for our world and are connected with everything in it.

The 14th Dalai Lama

Ultimately we must take responsibility for our own behavior, our own karma. People can rise above less that advantageous circumstances, and they can rise above their own habits and tendencies. Those who fare on the Bodhisattva way understand that we must be responsible for others as well. We are our brother’s and sister’s keepers in the sense that we have a duty to raise their consciousnesses and help them overcome external factors and themselves. The karma of one person influences the karma of another. Changing karma (Tenju Kyoju) is a group activity.

Kuan Yin is a celestial Bodhisattva (Pu-sa), the female emanation of Avalokitesvara, regarded by many in Asia as the “goddess of compassion”. While some may see her as a cosmic being who exists above our everyday reality, Kuan Yin actually represents the universal capacity of human beings to give love. Kuan Yin is not an external being, but rather an interior state of being anyone can realize.

Barbara E. Reed, who teaches in the Religion Department and Asian Studies Program at St. Olaf College in Northfield, Minnesota, does an excellent job of summing up the significance of this bodhisattva at the beginning of her essay entitled “The Gender Symbolism of Kuan-yin Bodhisattva”:

Somehow during the assimilation into Chinese culture Kuan-yin Bodhisattva underwent a sexual transformation. The male Bodhisattva from India, Avalokitesvara, became a white-robed Chinese woman. In addition to the sex change, the female symbolism of the bodhisattva was expanded further by the addition of yin symbols (for example, moon, water, vase) from the yin-yang polarity of Chinese thought. In a Chinese culture dominated by Confucian social values, Chinese women saw this female symbol as particularly relevant to their problems as women. Not only was Kuan-yin an object of devotion, she also was a popular subject for women artists from at least the Ming dynasty (1368-1644).

As we break out of the traditional notions of gender,  the image of Kuan Yin stands for the fact that all people, regardless of sex,  posses both male (yang) and female (yin) qualities. Through the identification of love and compassion with a female persona, Kuan Yin continues to be an important archetype in our age.

As Reed noted above, Yin-yang is a traditional Chinese concept. The yin here is not the same character as the Yin in the bodhisattva’s name, but it does present an intriguing parallel. Kuan Yin is the Chinese transliteration of Avalokitesvara, which means “one who hears the cries of the world.” Kuan is to see or have insight, and Yin in this case refers to sound. Actually, Kuan Yin is short for Kaun Shih Yin, with shih (pronounced sher) standing for world or reality.

Here is my interpretation of the verse section of the 25th Chapter of the Lotus Sutra, “The Universal Gateway”, Avalokitesvara/Kuan Yin’s first appearance in Buddhist literature. It’s meant to be recited as part of a meditation service or during one’s daily practice:

Kuan Yin Sutra

Namo Da Bei Kuan Yin Sher-Yin Pu-sa

Bodhisattva Infinite Thought said to the Buddha,

Thus-gone One, full of knowledge, one question I will ask again:
How did this serene disciple earn the respected name of Kuan Sher Yin?

The Buddha replied,

Come and I will tell you how she well responds to every side;
She has served countless Buddhas, her vows are like an ocean, deep and wide.

Who sees her face or hears about her, whoever calls this Bodhisattva’s name,
Will leave behind the sorrows of existence, and so this meditation is not in vain.

If you be pushed into a pit of fire, by enemies with intent to harm,
One thought of Kuan Yin’s compassion and the pit will become a pond.

If cast adrift upon the ocean, with sharks and demons all around,
Call out the name of Kuan Yin Bodhisattva and you will not be drowned.

If thrown down from Great Diamond Mountain, with its peak so steep and tall,
Call out the name of Kuan Yin Bodhisattva and the air itself will catch the fall.

If chased down Great Diamond Mountain by evil people wielding arms,
Just think of Kuan Yin’s compassion and you will not be harmed.

If caught by a band of callous bandits, with evil hearts and murder on their minds,
Put your mind on Kuan Yin’s compassion and their hearts will turn soft and kind.

If you are sick and on the brink of sudden death,
One thought of Kuan Yin will guarantee another breath.

If set upon by demons, or spirits in the night so hard to see,
Say the name of Kuan Yin Bodhisattva and all will be made to flee.

If threatened by a snake with poison flowing from its deadly fangs,
Evoke the sound of Kuan Yin Bodhisattva and the snake will shrink before her name.

Beings live in a world where incessant pain like rain does fall;
The power of Kuan Yin’s compassion can serve to liberate them all.

True Kuan Yin! Pure Kuan Yin! The power of love is truly great!
Wise Kuan Yin! Vast Kuan Yin! We vow to ever praise and emulate!

O wisdom light that shines through darkness! O lamp of light for all the world!
The One who Hears the Cries of Others, your universal love unfurls!

Compassion’s power! The precepts’ thunder! A wondrous cloud that protect us all;
Extinguishing the fires of life’s afflictions, Dharma-rain like nectar falls!

To those who are immersed in trouble, or trembling in the midst of fear,
With just one thought of Kuan Yin all suffering disappears.

The sound of Kuan Yin Bodhisattva is like the ocean’s mighty roar,
A name for every heart and mind to ever keep in store.

Do not doubt the healing power of this pure and holy sage,
To those who look within themselves, she will come to offer aid.

O Kuan Yin, bright with virtue, in your eyes all things are seen,
A boundless sea of every blessing, we offer now our high esteem.

Namo Dai Bei Kuan Yin Pu-sa

These verses should not be taken literally of course. Again, Kuan Yin represents our inner capacity for showing compassion, and should not be regarded as some being outside of our lives.

Happy New Year to all.

© 2011 dmriley