Tag: Non-attachment

Castles Made of Sand

Posted on by David

Building sand castles is an activity associated with summertime and the beach.  Most people think of it as a kid thing, but there are adults who engage in this pastime and sand castles can range from the very simple to the amazingly elaborate.

The term ‘sand castles’ can also refer to a notion or scheme that has little substance, or be a metaphor for the transitory nature of things.

kids at beachIn the Edward Conze edited anthology, Buddhist Texts through the Ages, published in 1954, Albert Waley translated this parable from the Yogacara Bhumi Sutra :

Some children were playing [on a beach].  They made castles of sand and each child defended his castle and said, “This one is mine .”  They kept their castles separate and would not allow any mistakes about which was whose.  When the castles were all finished, one child kicked over someone else’s and completely destroyed it.  The owner of the castle flew into a rage, pulled the other child’s hair, struck him with his fist and bawled out, “He has ruined my castle! Co and help me punish him as he deserves.  “me along all of us The others all came to his help.  They beat the child with a stick and then stamped on him as he lay on the ground. . .  Then they went on playing  in their sand-castles, each saying, “This is mine; no one else may have it. Keep away!  Don’t touch my castle!”

But evening came; it was getting dark and they all thought they ought to be going home.  No one cared what became of his castle.  One child stamped on his, another pushed his over with both his hands.  Then they turned away and went back, each to his home.

As Jimi Hendrix wrote, castles made of sand fall into the sea eventually . . . and so, everything we perceive is a castle of sand, impermanent, fleeting, transitory, and yet, even as we know this aspect of existence, we find it difficult to refrain from grasping, seizing, clinging . . . these tendencies are the causes of suffering; suffering is craving, produced by ignorance . . .

In the Samyutta-Nikaya III, the Buddha is reported to have said,

When boys or girls are playing with little sand castles, so long as they are not free from lust, desire, passion, feverish longing and craving for those little sand castles, just so long do they delight in them.  But . . . as soon as those boys and girls are free from lust, desire, passion, feverish longing and craving for those little sand castles, right away they scatter them, break them up, and cease to play with them.  In this way, you should scatter and demolish form, apply yourself to destroying attachments and cease clinging to objects of desire.”

All existence, said the Buddha, has the nature of impermanence, constant change . . . nothing is the same right now as it was a moment ago . . . understand this ‘truth’ is the first step toward understanding the true aspect of things, the way things really are . . . When we see reality as it truly is, then we are empowered to sever the binds of attachment and cease clinging . . .

And then, the wonderful Tibetan sand mandala . . .  The Sand Mandala is a tradition in Tibetan Buddhist tradition where mandalas are painstakingly made from millions of grains of colored sand . . . for hours on end, monks will bend over the mandala, placing one grain of sand after another, creating intricate symbolic patterns. It typically takes anywhere from 75 to 125 hours to create one of these mandalas . . . and when one is created, it is destroyed . . . swept up, handfuls of sand given away or thrown in a stream or river . . . gone . . . impermanent.

sandmandala-sweep

 

Share

Nagarjuna’s Golden Bowl

Posted on by David

Evidently, there was a Tibetan guru, an alchemist and tantric master, named Nagarjuna who lived during the 7th century.  This Nagarjuna and the legends surrounding him were mixed up with the earlier Nagarjuna (c. 250), known as the “second Buddha,” the founder of the Madhyamaka (Middle Way) philosophy.

There is a story about how one of these two Nagarjunas, who was also a metallurgist, turned an iron begging bowl into gold bowl.

bowlOne day, as he was taking a meal, Nagarjuna saw a thief passing by his open door.  The thief noticed the golden bowl and wanted to steal it.

But Nagarjuna saw into the thief’s heart, and to save time, he went outside and gave him the bowl, encouraging the man to go ahead and take it.

The next day, the thief returned and handed the bowl back to Nagarjuna, saying, “Great teacher! When you gave away this bowl so freely, I felt very poor and desolate.  Show me the way to acquire the wealth that makes this kind of untroubled detachment possible.”

The short tale empathizes an aspect of non-attachment that we probably don’t appreciate enough, which is, that letting go of attachments to material things is actually a way to realize great wealth and abundance.

A key element in cultivating non-attachment is said to be renunciation, a word that means to reject something, e.g. a belief, claim, or course of action.  It also coveys sacrifice, giving up.   Naturally, in the context of Buddha-dharma and Taoism, there is more to it.  The Dalai Lama says, “True renunciation is a state of mind.  It does not necessarily mean that someone has to give up something.”

In his version of the Tao Te Ching, the late Professor of Philosophy at the University of Hawaii, Chung-yuan Chang translated chapter 59 this way:

In guiding people and working according to nature,
It is best to follow renunciation.
Following renunciation means returning soon.
Returning soon means accumulating attainment.

He goes on to write, “The key word in this chapter is se, or renunciation, which means returning soon to one’s original nature . . . Thus [Te-Ching’s commentary says]: What Lao Tzu means ‘in guiding people and working according to nature, it is best to follow renunciation,’ is that nothing is better than the cultivation of returning to one’s original nature.”

I did an internet search for se and found it defined as “stingy, mean.”  But as the story of Nagarjuna’s golden bowl suggests that non-attachment requires generosity.

Atisha, in Kadamthorbu or “Precepts collected from Here and There”, is quoted as saying,

The greatest generosity is non-attachment.”

And in Nagarjuna’s Guidelines for Social Action, Robert Thurman writes,

Those who . . . simply consume and hoard, soon lose their wealth, just as Nagarjuna states.  It is a fact of economics that the basis of wealth is generosity.”

For us, a key aspect of non-attachment means to go beyond the mere rejection of materialism. Go beyond ‘giving up.’  Spread out into giving.  Non-attachment is a state or quality of mind that helps us develop openness, spaciousness of being.

Share

Nagarjuna’s Golden Bowl

Posted on by David

There was a Tibetan guru, an alchemist and tantric master, named Nagarjuna who lived during the 7th century, and who has been confused with Nagarjuna (c. 150–250 CE) the “second Buddha” and founder of the Madhyamaka (Middle Way) philosophy.  The legends surrounding both are numerous.

Nagarjuna-2016-1In one story, the Tibetan Nagarjuna, who was also a metallurgist, turned an iron begging bowl into gold. One day, as he was taking a meal, Nagarjuna saw a thief passing by his open door. The thief noticed the golden bowl and wanted to steal it.

Nagarjuna saw into the thief’s heart, and to save time, he went outside and gave his golden bowl to the man, encouraging him to go ahead and take it.

The next day, the thief returned and handed the bowl to Nagarjuna, saying, “Great teacher! When you gave away this bowl so freely, I felt very poor and desolate. Show me the way to acquire the wealth that makes this kind of untroubled detachment possible.”

The story is about the importance of non-attachment, emphasizing that to let go of attachments to material things is to realize a state of wealth and abundance.

A key element in cultivating non-attachment is renunciation, a word that to me always seems to convey sacrifice. The Dalai Lama says, “True renunciation is a state of mind. It does not necessarily mean that someone has to give up something.”

In his version of the Tao Te Ching, the late Professor of Philosophy at the University of Hawaii, Chung-yuan Chang translated chapter 59 this way:

In guiding people and working according to nature,
It is best to follow renunciation.
Following renunciation means returning soon.
Returning soon means accumulating attainment.

Chang comments that “The key word in this chapter is se, or renunciation, which means returning soon to one’s original nature . . . Thus [Te-Ching’s commentary says]: What Lao Tzu means ‘in guiding people and working according to nature, it is best to follow renunciation,’ is that nothing is better than the cultivation of returning to one’s original nature.”

When I did an internet search for se, I found it defined as “stingy, mean.” But as the story of Nagarjuna’s golden bowl allegorizes, the state of mind of non-attachment includes generosity of spirit.

Atisha, in Kadamthorbu, Precepts collected from Here and There, is quoted as saying,

The greatest generosity is non-attachment.”

And in Nagarjuna’s Guidelines for Social Action [found in Engaged Buddhist Reader], Robert Thurman writes, 

Those who . . . simply consume and hoard, soon lose their wealth, just as Nagarjuna states. It is a fact of economics that the basis of wealth is generosity.”

Share

Our Own Lives

Posted on by David

I don’t know if you read Oliver Sacks’ op-ed last Thursday in the New York Times where he revealed that he has terminal liver cancer. The piece was of particular interest to me as someone who survived liver cancer via a liver transplant only 9 months ago and has lost 2 family members to the disease in the past 13 months.

I think it should be of interest to everyone because we are all terminal. To paraphrase the title of a humorous and ironic song by Hank Williams Sr., none of us will get out of this world alive.

Oliver Sacks by Elena Seibert
Oliver Sacks by Elena Seibert

I must confess that before this I was not too familiar with the life and work of Oliver Sacks, who is a professor of neurology at the New York University School of Medicine. I knew that his 1973 memoir Awakenings about his work with patients suffering from the sleeping sickness, encephalitis lethargica, was made into a film with Robert De Niro and Robin Williams, which I enjoyed. And that he wrote another book titled The Man Who Mistook His Wife for a Hat, but I have read neither and had to go to Wikipedia to learn more about him.

It’s not necessary to know his life story to be moved by Sacks’ reflections. They are poignant and inspirational. The valuable takeaways for me were the appreciation he expresses for his life and the sense of detachment he has found. Both are indispensable to Buddhist practice, and even though some mistakenly think they are mutually exclusive, they are not.

Buddhism teaches that human life is precious, and that is reason enough to be grateful for the blessing of life. When you face death and survive, appreciation for life seems to blossom naturally. It is a shame to wait until you have a crisis for it to unfold.

In regards to detachment, Sacks writes,

I feel a sudden clear focus and perspective. There is no time for anything inessential. I must focus on myself, my work and my friends. I shall no longer look at “NewsHour” every night. I shall no longer pay any attention to politics or arguments about global warming.

This is not indifference but detachment . . .”

That is the kind of detachment Buddhism encourages us to develop, but again, while there is still time to watch the news, pay attention to the world, to argue, to forgive, love and cry. We form attachments to so many things – desire, material possessions, even our own sufferings – and it is vital that we learn to let go. As Thich Nhat Hanh tells us, “Letting go gives us freedom and freedom is the only condition for happiness.”

There is not much more to say about the piece. It is called “My Own Life.” It could have been titled “Our Own Lives,” as it speaks to and for us all. Please read it. Here is the link:

Oliver Sacks on Learning He Has Terminal Cancer February 19, 2015

Share

Possession

Posted on by David

One morning many years ago I came across a Zen saying in a book (I believe it was by Alan Watts) that went something like this: “As soon as you posses something, you lose it.” It stayed in my mind all day. I worked in the reservations department of a hotel at the time, and although we used computers, there was still much we had to write out by hand. I had purchased a rather expensive Mont Blanc pen that produced nice, thick lines just the way I like, and I really coveted this pen. I misplaced the pen later the very same day and never saw it again.

Of course, this saying was not meant to be taken literally, and losing the pen was just an unfortunate coincidence. The saying is telling us that possession is an artificial concept, something that exists only as a thought construction, and one cannot truly posses anything.

Non-attachment is one of the core teachings of Buddhism: not clinging to material possessions, not seizing on the idea of “me” or “mine.” The Buddha taught that attachment is a dead-end and a principle cause of suffering. The bhikkhus (“sharesmen”), the Buddha’s ascetic followers, kept only the minimal material requisites, eight in total: three robes, a begging bowl, a water-strainer, a razor, needle and thread, and medicine. At the same time, the Buddha did not disparage his lay followers for owning things, but he did advise them not to form unwholesome attachments to what they held.

Possession in the ultimate sense implies domination and control, and since everything is subject to change, it is not possible to exert control over anything indefinitely. Ownership is always a temporary condition. Furthermore, while we may have possessions that provide us with comfort, care, aesthetic beauty and so on, if our happiness is based upon ownership of these things, what happens should we literally lose them as I did the pen? Do we lose our happiness as well? If so, that sort of happiness has a weak foundation.

Wherever conflicts arise amongst living beings, the sense of possession is the root cause.”

Anantamukha-nirharadharani

One has no need to guard what is given, but what is in one’s house must always be guarded. What is given is for the extinguishing of desire, while what is at home increases desire. What is given does not rouse greed or fear, not so for what is guarded. One assists the path of awakening, the other the path of corruption. One is lasting, the other transient.”

Ugradatta-pariprccha

Giving is the wisdom of the bodhisattva.”

Ratnamegha Sutra

Share