One of the joys of helping out at Maitreya Centre was the occasional outbreak of serendipity. It was extraordinarily serendipitous that on the very first day that the centre opened, a certain Bill Wyatt wombled in to offer his good wishes and his services. Bill Wyatt is such a modest, unassuming and humble person that it was not until much later, and circuitously, that I learnt that he is one of the finest and most respected haiku poets in the world today. And he is a Buddhist too, from the Soto Zen school, being the first Zen Buddhist monk to be ordained in the UK, way back when. That first day he was so welcoming, so full of delight that a new Buddhist centre had opened up just round the corner from where he lived, and he pitched in with a paintbrush to help us with the decorating that we had already launched into. Over the years that followed, my meetings with him, albeit brief encounters that they were, were always a source of joy, as I bathed in his warmth and wit. I shall never forget that memorable evening when he and I joined forces with other local poets to put on a poetry evening within the centre that was very warmly appreciated by all who attended. That was when the full power and beauty of Bill’s haiku hit home for me, and I can do no more than recommend that you read his haiku to find out for yourself just what I mean. Haiku can, I think, be seen as a perfect medium for condensing the essence of dharma into as few words as possible, and the best haiku are objects for meditation in themselves. On re-reading Bill’s haiku many times, I now realise that Bill has a very deep and profound understanding of dharma. Yet Bill never once preached any dharma at me in any of his conversations with me. If you want to know a little bit more about Bill Wyatt and his haiku, I recommend this interview with him: http://haibuntoday.blogspot.co.uk/2008/05/washing-jade-in-muddy-water-bill-wyatt_27.html. Bill recently sent me a small volume of his latest collection of haiku – a great kindness in itself – so I will give a little selection of his haiku from that collection:
A layman who lives
like a monk – that’s me goofing off
down dusty spring lanes
Dodging the raindrops
I swallow a rainbow –
first autumn shower
A cloud in trousers
that’s me – gathering seashells
on rainbow wheels
An absolutely fascinating public debate took place recently between Stephen Batchelor and Don Cupitt regarding the evolving nature of religion and religious truth in our time, and the debate contains many stimulating insights into the nature of modern Buddhism and the attempts of Buddhism to entrench itself in the West. The debate had great meaning and especial poignancy for me in the light of the traumatic experiences I and some of my dharma colleagues have been through recently, but it also gave me lots of clues about how to develop my dharma practice in the future and confirms me in my growing conviction that dharma practice has to be protected from the tendency of religious organisations, even Buddhist ones, to periodically become fossilised and over-rigid in their attempts to maintain doctrinal purity and hierarchical authority, destroying the creative tension of debate, even dissent, that is an essential part of keeping any tradition fresh, alive and dynamic. Better still, ways of practising dharma outside of any dependence or over-reliance upon an organisational or institutional structure may need to be developed and/or encouraged.
To give a flavour of the debate, here is some of what Stephen Batchelor said:
I think we have to do more than just modify or reform some of the existing Asian Buddhist traditions, although that is of course something that has been happening now for the last fifty years or so: in other words, the modification of Theravada Buddhism or early Buddhism into the vipassana and the mindfulness movements, certain ways in which Zen Buddhism has been transformed into a practice that Christians and Buddhists alike are engaged in. I think we need a rather more radical rethinking of the dharma, what the Buddha taught, and what is that all about, and can we imagine it in a way that enables the wisdom of this tradition to speak in a language that addresses our circumstances, our condition today? I think, and again I feel I am probably very close to Don here, that Buddhism needs to be rethought from the ground up. We somehow, perhaps, are in such a different situation to that in which Buddhism has traditionally worked in Asia, that we might in a way have to start all over again. That can sound very threatening to someone who is invested in certain traditional Buddhist beliefs, but personally I find it very liberating. I think it brings the imagination, creativity into the scope of our practice as Buddhists and leads us obviously into an unknown. I don’t know where these ideas will go, how they will evolve or develop – or not. I just don’t know. I am concerned therefore that the Buddhist tradition somehow engages in a dialogue with modernity, not just a dialogue with other religions, but begins to somehow get to grips with the secular world, secular culture of which we are a part.
Later on Batchelor says:
I think that we have to distinguish between a living tradition and a dying tradition. A living tradition surely is one that is in constant ongoing conversation with its own past, which is a phrase I picked up in the writing of the American philosopher Alasdair MacIntyre, who also says that traditions are “continuities of conflict”. I feel it is only when there is conflict that in a way the religious and spiritual life really comes alive. The danger that we can also see, particularly with certain more fundamentalist forms of religion, is that dialogue, conversation, conflict, interpretation, tend to be suppressed. And there I think a deadening begins to set in. So I feel that although I may be criticised for taking too great a liberty with certain Buddhist texts and traditions, I feel that, in the bigger picture, I am trying to keep alive an animated discussion, a discourse and language that will allow the tradition to breathe afresh.
And to really put the cat amongst the pigeons, this question was put to Stephen Batchelor: “Is a lot of Buddhism’s teaching about happiness a way of trying to promote itself in the West? I just wondered if you could comment on that.”
To which Stephen Batchelor replied:
Well, I think Buddhism has been somewhat hijacked by the happiness industry in some sense, and I think it is another example of how we reach for this knee-jerk inclusion of happiness, because obviously it sells well. But I don’t think Buddhism is in the business of happiness, at least not overtly. I think a great parallel with how Buddhism is presented as being about happiness is that its very first teaching is to embrace suffering and dukkha – the first truth. And the parallel with this is that if one really wishes to live a life fully and abundantly, that requires us to be entirely honest and forthright with the reality of the world as it is, rather than in some imagined perfected future. So I always see happiness as a kind of a bonus, as a rather good side effect, but frankly I don’t practise Buddhism because I want to be happy. I would think that a rather superficial reason. I seek to practise Buddhism because, in the words of Don, it gives me a narrative, a framework within which to make sense of my life. And that to me, in other words the question of meaning and fulfilment, is more important than whether I feel happy or not. One could argue it’s better to live a happy life with the accent on fulfilment and meaning rather than on the feeling of happiness.
Now that makes you think, doesn’t it? But I do recommend reading the transcript of the whole debate and Stephen Batchelor’s statement distributed before the debate itself. I promise you, it’s compelling stuff!
For the next teaching in a fortnight, I have chosen the subject Non-existent.
For those who want to, I have created a web-page they can visit.
If they go there, they will find I haven’t written anything.
The mad Yogi was looking at his wife.
“What are you staring at?”
“You. I was looking at your parts.”
“What’s wrong with my parts?” she frowned.
“Nothing. They are all beautiful.”
Relaxing, his wife smiled.
“It’s the whole I have problems with,” he muttered.
Two Buddhists were having a Dharma discussion. One said, “Look, here comes someone. Let us teach him.”
Later the person walked away leaving the two to it.