David Foster Wallace expressed it well in the extract I published a few weeks ago ( Feature No 11) when he said there was no way of avoiding the act of worship. It's an inbuilt part of a natural human response to reality that we end up worshipping and putting our faith in something, whether it be secular,sensual, scientific or spiritual experiences. In Buddhism the nearest
equivalent term for faith is the word
sraddha, which at best could be described as -
that which we place our heart upon. It's in this sense that the term worship could be helpfully viewed - as an expression of what we emotionally or spiritually most depend on. Worship then is an act of devotion and supplication, emerging out of a feeling of
sraddha towards something. At this point we are symbolically making conscious what appears to have already happened unconsciously. We cannot help but offer ourselves completely up - even to our darkest moods of nihilism, or atheist indifference we surrender ourselves. The feeling for
sraddha has to be there in some form, as a tangible, latent or unconscious feeling, otherwise the act of worshipping becomes emptied of significance. You cannot retrospectively create a feeling of
sraddha via the act of worship, it has to be there in the first place.
Yet
sraddha can be is such an amorphous and elusive thing to keep a permanent grasp of. We often look to those visible acts of worship to give shape and form to what our
sraddha is placed upon. But you cannot always deduce the cause from looking at the result. We can be so easily mislead by our own imaginative misconceptions of what expressions of faith and devotion are - it can all get too elevated and other worldly in tone. The remarkable thing in David Foster Wallace's speech was how he brought elevated things down to the very ordinary circumstances of modern existence. In this sense
sraddha can be seen as an ever present quality as constant as our breath. Like our breath, it isn't always present in our conscious awareness, until it stops, or we bring our attention to it.
Sraddha is an
incorporeal thread connecting us to the True Nature of Reality, which Buddhism would call Buddha Nature. Any act of worship stimulated by
sraddha, connects us to the True Nature of Reality, or as
Dogen would say - is an actual manifestation of it. Even actions based on a imaginative misconception, if stimulated by a feeling of
sraddha are not wasted.
Dogen indicates that every action we take, however mundane or spiritual they are, are, from the perspective of Realising the True Nature of Reality, seen as manifestations of
sraddha, of Buddha Nature. All is conjoined as if the rhythm of a heart beat was playing upon a drum..
It might be hard to conceive this in our day-to-day experience. If this assertion from
Dogen is true, then our every action becomes an act of
sraddha, the work of Buddha
Nature. When I get up in the morning, as I wash. make myself breakfast, when I shit, shave or sharpen a pencil, when I cycle to work, get irritated by motorists, am bored at the prospect of work, feel lackluster energy wise, be inspired, joyful or content with my life. What stops us seeing all these things as an expression of the True Nature of Reality? Perhaps its that we imagine something altogether more elevated and other worldly as our ticket to liberation. We experience craving or aversion to experience, and its this resistance that causes our suffering, and the pain of it blinds us to ever seeing daily life as an expression of the True Reality of Buddha Nature. We're wishing our liberation can be found somewhere else, anywhere other than in what we already have. What we have is a problem, not a solution.
We can all appear sometimes to be searching for what Buddhism calls a
Wish Fulfilling Jewel
. In old fairy stories if
wish fulfilling jewels are used purely for worldly pleasure and gain, they seriously backfire upon the owner whose misused them. Everyone who discovers them wants to use the jewels to change reality, to change their external reality to some thing they'd much prefer - healthier, richer, sexier, happier. The true purpose of the jewel is rarely consciously revealed, because in the end its owner realises that what they really want has been right before their eyes all along. True wealth and happiness then naturally flows out from this realisation. In Buddhist parables the
Wish Fulfilling Jewel is always hard to find. When it is found, it is hidden in some entirely unexpected place - in a dung heap - or most tellingly, secretly sown into the hem of a robe someone is wearing. They already had it within their possession, but didn't realise it. Once they accepted that it was themselves and not external reality that needed to change, at that point they discover the whereabouts of the
Wish Fulfilling Jewel. All of which indicates that our richest experience, the source of true wealth and real liberation, is always to be found much closer to home, often overlooked, and right before our eyes.
Sraddha and Buddha Nature seem also to be like this.
I always seem to be wrestling with the fabric of my life. I want either myself, or reality, to change to something I can
truly be happy and contented with. The tussles can go on for weeks, months or even years. This week I got the first sense, after seemingly months and months of this sort of internal wrangling, that at least for the time being I'm done with it. I've had enough of giving too much unwise attention to my difficulties, and the finding of a miraculous cure for my ills. Sometimes we worship fruitlessly at the altar of our own suffering for far too long. Living in such a crucible of intense feelings and yet not finding them diminished or transformed, only makes them become more tender and sensitive. I've been wishing for a jewel to transform either me, or my circumstances. I'm coming to appreciate that the life I already have, the one right before my eyes, is going to be a lot more satisfying if I can just let it be.
When you're making gravy, you finely cut onions, slowly fry them, and gradually add flour, flavourings and water. Once the ingredients are all mixed its very easy to think nothing is happening for quite some time. But don't ever go away and do something else. If you take your eye off the gravy for even a few seconds it will thicken too much, form a skin, or worse still burn on the bottom of the pan. To make a good gravy you need to keep stirring, keep adding water, you need to give it your full attention. As with gravy, so it is with practicing the spiritual life. If you don't give it the right degree of attention, keep stirring it, keep adding water, it will solidify forming a wrinkled old looking skin, or at worst the light of inspiration will burn itself out.
I've been away on retreat, for a fortnight at Padmaloka. The retreat, called The Heart of Ordination, was based around the four ordination vows that I took when I became a member of the Western Buddhist Order. You accept the ordination on the basis that you will - be loyal to your teachers - remain in harmony with friends and brethren - do so in order to attain enlightenment - and for the benefit of all beings. I took these vows eight years ago. The day before the Public Ordinations we were told to note them, as they were very important commitments we were to recite. However, that was the first I'd heard of them. These days the four vows have developed a much higher profile in the WBO, to the extent of having an entire retreat constructed around them.
I was supporting Padmavajra in his study group, so I'd prepared well, and dutifully read all the background material and made notes. I knew this retreat would challenge my rather distant stance towards the institutions of the Order, and sure enough it did so. One by one, within the first few days they all popped up- being in good contact with my Private Preceptor, attending Order weekends, being in a Chapter, writing in to Shabda, doing my sadhana. What quickly became clear was that my original decisions to withdraw from close association with these things was entirely emotionally reactive. These undoubtedly had there purpose at the time, and were encouraged, if not inflamed, by the climate of liberalisation and permissiveness then current in the Order,which I was strongly resistant to. As I have changed my lifestyle considerable since then, these views were in serious need of an update. They'd settled into sentimental habits very entrenched against change. Once again my strong tendency to respond to disillusion / dissatisfaction, by dropping whatever causes it like a hot potato, was being highlighted. This had been particularly the case with my feelings about Order Chapter - based entirely upon my uncomfortable dispiriting experiences in my first Chapter. After some reflection and reconsideration I am now up for joining a Chapter again.
The retreat had four ordinations taking place during it which were very wonderful and pleasing events to be a part of. I couldn't help but remember my own. I realised on the retreat how important it is to keep the connections with my ordination alive. So it was a good atmosphere, good study, some excellent walks, talks and pujas - we did two Confession pujas which I'm particularly like, as it is based on a chapter from The Sutra of Golden Light - one of the few Mahayana Sutras I genuinely have time and fondness for. So I've returned back to Cambridge with renewed sense of spiritual purpose, as if some great impediment has been removed, and I'm sort of back on track. I've a list of six things I need to address over the next six to twelve months, I'm confident I will be able to significantly move these on. I have great resolve within me than I've had for a number of years. I'm feeling easier within myself, and more content.
