Accept life on its terms and it becomes a lot more interesting. Keep believing there is more, and you are on a chase for your own tail that takes you nowhere. Yet, many of us, possibly most of us, end up on spiritual journeys that take up years, sometimes decades of our lives.

Ban Offshore Drilling

Buddhism has a reputation for being passive, and there are good reasons for this. All that meditation  and mindfulness we do appears passive.  And in the beginning many of us do have to mindfully hold back reactions, and refrain from falling into old active patterns that used to get us into trouble. But there is a time for apparent passiveness, and a time to act, a time to be engaged.

I studied a lot about Buddhism, in various traditions, and one of the resounding and inarguable themes addresses the big A, attachment. There is resounding agreement that attachment is at the base of craving and causes suffering. The indisputable agreement on this topic stems from the fact that personal exploration proves that attachment causes craving and suffering, and the idea is repeated throughout most Buddhist’s text.

Most of my personal explorations into a Buddhist teaching started with the desire to prove the teaching incorrect. It’s just my nature to swim upstream.  And the whole area of attachment was no different. But, I had to admit in a short period of time that, yes, at the bottom of all my cravings lie attachment, and that stinkin’ attachment was causing me to suffer.

My attachments have had much examination under the mental microscope over the years, and it’s no easy task to get beneath them and pop them free. But I realized a part of the mechanism that was feeding my attachments was the language I used regarding labels and titles.

Of course we need labels and titles for communication purposes, or we would never understand one another. The problem arises, unmindfully usually, when we get attached to labels and identify through them. For instance, even though I wanted my divorce, talking in terms of I and me instead of us and we took a bit of adjusting and breaking of habit. It seemed strange to only refer to myself, instead of us. Even more difficult was adjusting to a new job title, as I strongly identified through the previous one.

This got me thinking about Buddhist teachings regarding how we get attached to titles and come to identify through them. We create an illusory me, an I am a technical writer, or I am a wife. Yet, when I looked closely, I realized that was simply a mind fabrication, a slippery identity at best. And there was confusion, readjusting, and suffering beneath those titles.

I looked more deeply into the many labels I used in reference to myself, examined the desire beneath each, and little by little mindfully let them go. I realized the first I had to send packing was a title I had come to take pride in, cherished on many levels, and had created an illusory self around. That title was Buddhist!

Digging into this label I found myself burrowing down a deep rat hole. Being attached to such a title went against the teachings, yet dropping it seemed to betray myself in way. The teachings I had continually tried to disprove actually proved correct and understanding them was beneficial. I searched inward, examined the many layers of identity and attachment, and little by little realized that like everything else the title Buddhist is not only empty, but pointed at nothing, really nothing at all!

You could argue a Buddhist is one who follows Buddhism. For conversation’s sake, yes, that is true.  But what is Buddhism? It’s another label. On top of that label is much controversy, discussion, and even arguments over what real  Buddhism is. Buddhism is a label, and the definition of that label is whatever someone says it is, or whatever group decides it is. Oh, no, that’s not right you might argue! Buddhism is this . . .

Buddhism, like everything else is empty. Buddhism lacks an unchanging, eternal anything. Buddhism does not exist in of itself. It only exists as a label for some common teachings, teachings which are also empty, teachings that had come from the Buddha, who is also controversial and empty. If you read the history of Buddhism, you’ll discover the concepts existed long before Siddartha, person/character, was said to have been born. It was not until hundreds of years after the person/character’s death that these teachings were put to writing. Buddhism itself is quite fuzzy in terms of what is truth, or correct.

My head filled with spaghetti thoughts as I tried to sort it out. I let it all go, and then the clarity came . . .  to label myself a Buddhist would be limiting, it would encourage an illusory identity, and one I could not defend as it needs not be defended, as there is nothing to defend.

Now, I say, “I practice Secular Buddhism, but I do not call myself a Buddhist.” Interestingly, I have a come across many others doing they same, as they also saw Buddhist as a label, a limiting title, and an empty one at that.

Yet, even as the label Secular is empty, many of us to identify with its lack of ritual and religious beliefs. We practice Secular Buddhism as much for what it’s not as we do for what is it developing into. Secular Buddhism does have a definition for communication purposes. And it’s interesting to me as I get into discussions about defining Secular Buddhism, I find myself confronted by a lot of attachment to traditional Buddhism (many different traditions), this thing people have created in their minds and have come to identify themselves with. The discussions often seem quite unBuddhist to me.

Atheists  don’t have as much problem defining the word for people as Secular Buddhists do, but even that label sparks controversy. Atheism is simply non-theist, yet Atheists now carry the connotation of being certain there is no God, or claiming there aren’t any gods. And while I know also that Atheist is empty, under controversy, that is a label I still wear. Why? Well, honestly, I am still attached to it.

At 10 years old I declared myself an atheist to my Christian family, and I’ve spent so many years defending that position, I find it difficult to give up. Additionally, in these stressful times where fanatical religions  are asserting themselves, I feel myself pushing back with that very pointedly rebellious title.

So, when people ask about my religion, I say I am an Atheist who practices Secular Buddhism. It’s a mouthful, but it addresses how far I’ve come in unhitching some of my attachments to labels and Buddhism, while reminding me I still have more work to do in areas of attachment, title making, and finding my way  to being completely free  of me-making on all levels.

I’m reading Stephan Batchelor’s new book Confessions of an Atheist Buddhist, and I must say it resonates deeply with me, not because I’m an atheist, but because I went on a similar curvy path of confusion through Buddhism. Fortunately, I didn’t spend years and years on that twisty road like Batchelor did. I saw through the religious BS of Buddhist traditions over a 6 year span instead of decades.

But this path is one that is common to many in the US, and worldwide. Sadly, many people who are drawn to Buddhism get snared, fall for the same religious suspension of logic and reason, and accept fabricated belief systems just like in many other religions. Yet, all that goes against the very principles that Buddha taught.

Buddha did not do prostrations. He did not pray to statues. He did not pray at all. He did not use mala beads, nor did he assign himself or anyone else to be Lamas. Buddha didn’t teach special monks to give blessings, did not teach rituals that would free one of their “negative karma.” No, quite the opposite.

Like Batchelor, my studies in Buddhism begin with the Tibetan Mahayana tradition. Truthfully, in the beginning I didn’t even know there were different traditions, and I didn’t understand how vastly they differed from one another, nor did I know some actually go wide and far of what the Buddha likely taught. Like many people, I was drawn by the teaching that said we are to think for ourselves, to examine the teachings in our own experience, and if they didn’t work to reject them. I was also compelled by the powerful code of ethics, explained on an internal level, which I very much agree with. The benefits of meditation tools quickly made an impression on me.

Yet, as I progressed through my studies with a nun of this tradition, I questioned frequently the teaching on rebirth after the death of the body, on being reborn in animal or Hell realms, etc. I doubted karma could travel one life to the next, even were rebirth after death of the body possible. Underlying my questions was the teaching that I was to disregard what I could not test, disregard superstition and metaphysics. But my questions went unanswered, dismissed as though those answers would reveal themselves to me as I progressed.

In my second year in the Tibetan Mahayana tradition, a sentence in the Lamp of Enlightenment sent my head reeling. “If you turn away from Mahayana, you will be reborn in the Hell realms many, many times over.” The final big red flag went up. I realized then and there what had been bothering me all along. This stunk of religion! Threats of Hell. This could not possibly be known, or claim to be any kind of truth. This felt like the church of my youth, and with that threat aimed at me, I left that tradition.

So, now the Christian church and the Tibetan Mahayana tradition condemn me to Hell. So be it! Pooh, pooh to them.

But I was not ready to dismiss Buddhism entirely. In spite of all the rituals, prayers, and mala counting that made no sense to me and mostly seemed ridiculous, there had been some valuable teachings in there too. Meditation was teaching me to know my own mind and body, to be more present in my daily life, to see how incredibly attached I was to certain things, and the suffering that brought to me. I was fairly sure that while Tibetan Mahayana was full of religious nonsense, there had been enough  Buddhism there for me to know Buddha had been onto something valuable.

I explored in Zen and the Theravada traditions, and was careful to make sure the authors of the books I read did not follow Tibetan Buddhism.  Zen and Theravada seemed closer to the mark, less praying, less chanting, and more meditating. The focus now was directed at the Eightfold Path and the 5 ethical precepts. I settled in for some time, relieved not to have to hear about hell realms and unlikely human rebirths. But as I dug deeper, and benefited, I was again disturbed by subtle ways logic was cast aside.

Rebirth after death was still being taught, but now the explanations focused on consciousness, some kind of new formation of it, something fuzzy and hazy that no one could explain, and again gave me that, “One day you will see for yourself.” That again. Sigh.

I then stumbled upon Stephan Batchelor’s book Buddhism without Beliefs, and felt a deep connection with this author. He explained that it was quite possible that the teachings had been misinterpreted, or Buddha quite possibly had some beliefs of the times he lived in. In any case, there were suggestions that many of the teachings were simply misinterpreted by those who harbored many beliefs.

And the more I continued my own practice, the more I saw into the workings of how a new self arises, dies, and arises, and repeats, the more I became convinced that rebirth and death were but metaphors. About that time, I met a group of people in Second Life called Skeptical Buddhists. The name appealed to me right away, as I was a born skeptic. These folks weren’t just buying Buddhist teachings hook, line, and sinker, but were carefully examining them, looking into their own experiences to verify or deny the validity of such a teaching. Additionally, they weren’t buying into the ritual and religious BS like the other traditions. As it turned out, they were covering chapters of Batchelor’s Buddhism Without Beliefs book.

I was drawn to this group, continued with my Buddhist practice, and more importantly continued being skeptical, trying out the teachings, and marveling at some of the results. Instead of being transformed into something special, instead of being lifted out the normality of life, I was finding myself more and more in tune with this life being lived, and getting back into my very comfortable atheist skin. The only things pure atheism had not provided were the tools for understanding the workings of my own being, and a way of understanding ethics from inside out.

Skeptical Buddhism, or Secular Buddhism, is free of religious trappings and dogma. Instead we study the English translation of the Pali Canon with the skeptical eye the Buddha encouraged, the willingness to look within our own lives and existence, and in the process free ourselves of many the delusions that have been yanking us around our entire lives. Above all else, this process teaches one to scrutinize, study, examine. Belief is not for us. Belief is for the religious, those willing to accept what someone else believes, who accepts what some else again believes, and on and on.

Secular Buddhism is growing in this country, and is often misinterpreted as Buddhism for Americans, to accommodate our fat and greedy needs. On the contrary, that is not the case. But it sure makes us see quickly how fat and greedy we are, and how we cling to all the things that support our desires. Secular Buddhism attempts to revive the very practical ideas of the Buddha, without the religious nonsense people added to it, or the many ways they have misunderstood the teachings.

Recently, I acquired a SIM of my own, an island in Second Life, where I am building a Secular/Skeptical Buddhist Community to augment the Skeptical Buddhist sangha. Here, you won’t find Asian decorations everywhere, you won’t find statues of Buddha’s, nor will you see prayer flags flapping about. Instead, we are creating an environment for modern day secular/skeptical Buddhists who have concerns not only for their own well being but for animals and the environment. We have a redwood forest, a hemp garden with information on how hemp products can replace tree products, we have solar panels and turbines, and you can get around the island via canoe, horseback, bike, or rowboat. We offer tai chi/yoga, as well as meditation, sutta study classes, and fun at the drum and dance circle. Stop by and join the fun.

Secular/Skeptical Buddhist Community in Second Life

What is Skeptical Buddhism? video

Why Skeptical Buddhism? video

As we head into 2010, I’ve contemplated my past, and consider my intentions for the New Year. Notice I say intentions, not resolutions. I don’t need to resolve with finality, but instead I have some firm intentions that I hope lead to discovery. After all, seeing is knowing, and I aim to avoid believing.

Yosemite

When I was around 8, I realized that to rely on belief was insubstantial and unsatisfying. For that reason, I rejected the religion I’d been brought up in and happily sat within the realm of non-belief. Yet, many years later, though I enjoyed the discovery processes of science and all there was to learn (and I still do), I felt a lacking in my life, hovering in the back of mind. Though my natural temperament is generally “happy”, I didn’t feel as engaged in my life as I could be.

Books on spirituality jumped out at me. I avoided religious materials as I saw no reason to go in that direction, but something about the word spiritual struck a chord. I set out on a journey for “truth” for that special something I couldn’t quite name. I pursued several areas in metaphysics, had some really bizarre and interesting experiences, but all of that seemed always to deal with areas outside of physical life, areas of the unknown. While all that was intriguing, that something, that internal itch just wasn’t being scratched.

When I stumbled upon Buddhism, quite literally after falling down a ladder and having a friend recommend I Google mindfulness, I felt drawn to this “religion.” I was intrigued by the Buddha’s claim that all life is suffering, yet there was a way out. I didn’t feel like I was suffering, but I was interested in his claim that I was. In addition, I felt it compelling that all the teachings, and the teachers explaining the teachings, ended with, “Don’t believe me. I don’t want you to develop yet another view. I want you to see for yourself, to know what I say is true.” Seeing is knowing, not believing. Hmmm . . . .

I set out on what has now been a 7 year journey through Buddhist territory. Mindfulness was not only intriguing, but I felt drawn to it and benefited as soon as I started practicing. Meditation turned out to be hard and painful, yet I could see and know the benefit right within my personal experience. I also saw for myself that craving and desire do indeed create suffering in myself. Clinging and attachment painfully showed itself through self observation, mindfulness. I realized the Buddha was right . . . I was suffering, and that suffering had set me on the spiritual search.

Little by little, I realized that itch was not a desire for more, it was not a need to understand that which is beyond, but instead the itch came from the suffering and delusion I had previously been so blind to, had covered up in various ways and habits. But the Buddhist path is not easy. I wanted to jump off many times. It takes continual vigilance, it takes understanding ethics and morality on an internal level, it takes persistence.  Even so, several times I leaped, indulged in craving and clinging, and yes, suffered the consequences.

There were also teachings that rubbed me the wrong way, that smacked of metaphysical claims, and religious nonsense. I felt confusion over conflicting teachings, teachings that seemed to go against some basic Buddhist concepts. I stopped reading people’s commentary on the teachings and took a course in the English translation of the Pali Canon. I realized then that many of the Buddhist traditions (schools) had incorporated cultural beliefs and religious beliefs and ritual.You can see my blog on the topic of reading source material Don’t Be Lazy: Go to the Source. But I also discovered that I’m just not convinced of some of the teachings the Buddha gave.  After all, seeing is knowing and claims of rebirth after death is not only something I can’t know, but it goes against what I am experiencing with no self.

Yet, I am not willing to throw away the practice because Buddha has proven so much to me through my experience. I’m also not willing to just accept certain teachings, but I am willing to investigate further.

I have a good understanding of mindfulness and continue to improve and refine, make it a 24/7 habit. My problem is I can see the greed, anger, and hatred as they arise, but they do continue to repeatedly arise. It’s not how I want to be. It’s not how I want to view the world. I’ve decided I need to focus my practice on concentration meditation. The Jhanas seemed beyond and impossible, even pointless. But now as I progress through this practice, I am reading how concentration is what purifies the mind. I’m curious to see if this is true.

I am also skeptical, yes. And as for the immaterial Jhanas, not only am I skeptical but I am suspicious that these are states of delusion, early metaphysical nonsense that Buddha accepted. But I am not willing to close my mind either, as so far I have no been able to prove the Buddha wrong, and there is something in the Jhanas that intrigues me in a big way:  seeing the objects are mostly made of space and the rupa-kalapas, which are something like atoms.

When a scientist asked the Dalai Lama what he thought of objects being made of atoms and having mostly space, he laughed and said meditators have known this before  Buddha’s time. And indeed this is what the Buddha taught. How could they have known this through seeing and knowing? I’m intrigued and compelled to explore this matter further.

But to get there I have to let go of much: fear, anger, hatred, aversion, clinging, desire. I have to learn concentration and be able to sit for hours at a time. I would think it utterly impossible except when I was on a Jhana retreat with my teacher Shaila Catherine, I did almost get to the first Jhana. I had actually experienced a quite mind. Within that silence, with no greed, anger, frustration, anxiety, boredom, etc, and with no thoughts rising, the natural feeling of calm and bliss arose, a contentment I had never experienced before. It wasn’t a state I created, a feeling I made, but instead what I experienced was what comes naturally when the mind is quiet and at peace. And even that must be let go of. Jhanas are all about letting go. It’s like the old onion metaphor,  you peel away layers of angst, sadness, anger, resistance, clinging, thoughts, emotions, etc until you get to the mind’s natural state. It’s amazing how much crud we have sitting on top.

So, my intention this year is more seeing and knowing. I want to refocus my meditation practice with enthusiasm, with the idea of just seeing what happens and where it takes me. If I discover the Buddha to be correct, wonderful. If not, I will adjust accordingly.

But so far I have not been able to prove him wrong. Seeing is knowing, so I’ll find out where that leads.

Redwoods

If you’ve ever walked in a redwood forest, you know firsthand the feeling of awe. The redwood reaches high overhead, sometimes hundreds of feet tall, their bases as wide as a car, sometimes wide enough for cars to drive through. There is no place more peaceful than a forest, no place that can take you so quickly out of the day-to-day nonsense and into the present moment.

I planned a trip to Wyoming on a whim, and scheduled only one tour. The rest of the four days would be entirely open. Having to plan the trip at all is a bit annoying to me, but for work, plane schedules, and booking a cabin, that much had to be done. And that is where the planning ended.

As a non-theist, believers frequently ask me, “But what will you do if you find yourself facing God after you die?” Of course, that begs the question, “Which God?” but for the sake of simplicity and hypothetically speaking, I’ll stick with the Gods I know of, and because I’ve had one God in particular pushed at me for 47 years, I’ll start with Him.

You’ve been lying on the couch for 45 minutes. You’re focused on your breathing or some other thing you decided on beforehand. You’re aware of sounds outside, but you are concentrated. You can no longer feel your body. A kind of bliss arises in your mind. Suddenly you hear humming, or feel strange vibrations course through you. As light as air, you drift out of your body, and turn to see your body still on the couch.

One advantage of losing your biological father early on is that as you grow you can pick and choose who your father figures are. The very cool thing about that is you don’t have to pick and choose from local men. Oh, no. They won’t do. Instead, you can pick among the famous, and switch them out as needed.