When Zen teacher Nancy Mujo Baker first encountered the Zen precepts, they were presented to her as a list of rules and regulations: Do not kill, Do not lie, and so forth. But when she started teaching a class on the precepts at her sangha, she began to see them as expressions of enlightened reality. Inspired by the commentaries of 13th-century Zen priest Eihei Dogen, Baker believes that working with the precepts can be a way of revealing our inherent buddhahood. In her new book, Opening to Oneness: A Practical and Philosophical Guide to the Zen Precepts, Baker offers practical exercises for compassionately acknowledging the liar, stealer, and killer within each of us. 

In a recent episode of Tricycle Talks, Baker spoke with Tricycle’s editor-in-chief, James Shaheen, about Dogen’s commentary on the precepts, the importance of getting to know our anger, and how we can cultivate compassion for the parts of ourselves we tend to reject. Read an excerpt from their conversation, and then listen to the full episode.

It can be easy to think of the precepts as a list of ethical norms or rules, but you write that they’re actually expressions of enlightened reality. Can you say more about this distinction? As I was writing this book, I was undergoing a deep inquiry into Dogen, who’s very difficult to understand. The precepts that come down to us from Dogen are presented not as “Don’t steal, don’t lie” but as non-stealing and non-lying. That was a mystery to me. I wrote the book to explain how the precepts get to the place of non-lying and non-stealing where they are expressed naturally without any sense of separation. That’s really what the book is about: learning to acknowledge the killer, the liar, the stealer in each of us so that we can arrive at that place of a precept being expressed naturally.

How does this affect our practice with the precepts? Enlightenment is not a once-and-for-all state. Dogen says, “There are bodhisattvas who have become buddhas millions and millions of times.” Becoming a buddha is that moment of nonduality when the precept completely arises naturally. But in the next moment, in a different context, I may have to be making a choice. I may have to be conscious: “Well, I have a tendency to steal attention, so I’m going to bite my tongue here. I’m going to practice some kind of restraint.” The more that we can acknowledge, welcome, befriend, and even love those parts of ourselves that we would rather hide or deny, the more we’ve undone the opposition between stealing and not stealing. They are no longer these separate, clunky objects. That allows for the arising of a precept naturally and spontaneously.

“When we hide things from ourselves and from others, a lot of our energy goes into hiding and not into living.”

Can you say more about the risks of hiding these rejected parts of ourselves? I think anything we hide involves cloaking ourselves in something heavy that will succeed in hiding. The inner work is always uncovering [these parts], opening to them, and bringing them out of hiding. At the end of each chapter in the book, I share exercises for people to do with each other. To bring something out of hiding just for myself isn’t enough—I have to be able to do it in the presence of others, which can be scary. I work with a small sangha, and they have had experiences of being one with each other, moments of total non-separation, in the middle of doing these exercises. You start learning what it is to listen. Zen says everything preaches the dharma, so we need to learn to listen to reality. It’s interesting to see the love that comes from that. All of our efforts to hide and judge are these sharp edges, and the openness, softness, and freedom of the discovery of love here is amazing.

Along those lines, you write that our job in working with the precepts is to “learn who we are as killers in a compassionate way.” Can you say more about the process of exploring how we fail to live up to the precepts? [The process] is exploring it with particulars, namely, with particular precepts, particular contexts, and particular people. Let’s say I have a tendency to lie, and I’m aware of it. It doesn’t have to be major things, it can be little tiny things that I lie about to protect myself or to get something. This is where the practice comes in of acknowledging, welcoming, and getting to know my lying and discovering that it’s not going to kill me to share that experience with somebody else—it can actually be liberating. Plato once said that the most miserable of men is the tyrant, who always has to be on guard. That’s what happens to us when we hide things from ourselves and from others: a lot of our energy goes into hiding and not into living.

The post Befriending the Liar Within appeared first on Tricycle: The Buddhist Review.

There’s a depressing pattern in human behavior that Mark Twain noted more than a century ago, and it’s with us still: The powers-that-be want a war. Politicians and the media start beating the drum, denouncing the evil intentions of the enemy and calling for all patriotic citizens to attack them. At first, people are reluctant to go along, but then religious leaders jump on the bandwagon, telling their followers that it’s their sacred moral duty to support the war machine. Soon the whole country is aflame with the moral need to fight the enemy. Those few who question this need are branded as traitors. 

Young men march off to battle, only to find how ghastly war actually is. They realize that they were duped, and that their side is not as virtuous as they had been led to believe. Many of them are killed. Those lucky enough to return home tell their families and neighbors: Never again will they be tricked into going to war ever again. 

But then, after a while, the powers-that-be want another war. Politicians and the media start beating the drum. If the arguments for the last war no longer work, they find new ways of raising the emotional pitch of their rhetoric so that soon the whole country is swept up in war fever all over again. 

The only way to keep yourself from getting sucked into this pattern is to have strong principles against killing, principles you hold to no matter what. This is one of the reasons why the Buddha formulated the precept against killing in the most uncompromising way: Don’t intentionally kill anything or anyone. Ever. Don’t tell other people to kill. And don’t condone the act of killing. When the Buddha was asked if there was anything whose killing he would condone, he answered with just one thing: anger. (SN 1:71). 

That’s as clear-cut and absolute as you can get, and it’s clear-cut for a reason: Clear-cut rules are easy to remember even when your emotional level is high—and that’s precisely when you need them most.

If you approach every argument for war with this precept in mind, then no matter what reasons people might cite for supporting the war, always putting the precept first will protect you. If you leave room in your mind for exceptions to the precept, someone will find a way to exploit those exceptions, and you’ll be back where you were before you had the precept, fooled into supporting another war.

The precepts are like a fence around your property. If there’s a gap in the fence, anything that can fit into the gap—or enlarge it by wriggling through—will be able to get in. It will be as if there weren’t a fence there at all.

Now, it’s important to remember that the Buddha never forced the precepts on anyone. Instead of calling them obligations, he called them training rules, and the training is something you take on voluntarily. Your moral behavior is a voluntary gift of safety to the world. If you can make that gift universal, with no exceptions, you can have a share in universal safety as well (AN 8:39). If you actually break a precept, the safe course of action is not to try to redesign the training to justify what you’ve done. Instead, you honestly admit that your training has lapsed, and do your best to get back on course.

Given that the texts are so clear and unequivocal on the issue of killing, it’s hard to conceive that anyone would even think of trying to formulate a Buddhist theory of just war. Yet there have been such attempts in the past, and they’re with us again now. If we have any concern for the dharma at all, it’s important to reject these theories outright. Otherwise, we find ourselves quibbling over when and where it’s right to issue a Buddhist license to kill. And no matter how rigidly we try to restrict the license, it’s like running a tank through the back of our fence and putting up a sign next to the resulting hole, saying that only those thieves and bears who promise to behave themselves nicely will be allowed to enter, and then leaving them to police themselves.

Because the early texts rule out killing in all circumstances, attempts to formulate a Buddhist just-war theory ultimately fall back on one basic assertion: There’s something wrong with the texts. Because this assertion can take many forms, it’s useful to examine a few of those forms, to see how misleading they can be. That way, we won’t fall for them. 

The big one is this:

The moral ideals expressed in the early texts may be inspiring, but they offer no practical guidance for dealing with the complexities of real life. Real life presents situations in which holding strictly to the precepts would entail loss. Real life contains conflicting moral claims. The texts recognize none of these issues. They teach us no way of dealing with evil aggressors, aside from passivity and appeasement, hoping that our loving-kindness meditation will inspire in the aggressors a change of heart. So on this issue, we can’t trust that following the texts will protect us.

Actually, the early texts are not silent on issues of moral complexity. They do answer questions about the losses that can come from holding to the precepts and about the desire to meet obligations at odds with the precepts. It’s just that their answers aren’t the ones we might want to hear.

Of course, these answers are based on the teaching of karma and its effect on rebirth, teachings that many modern Buddhists view with skepticism. But the Buddha dealt with skeptics in his own day. As he told them, no one can really know the truth of these teachings until awakening, but if you take them on as working hypotheses in the meantime, you’ll be more likely to be careful in your behavior than if you didn’t (MN 60). If it turns out that they’re not true, at least you can die with a clear conscience, knowing that you’ve lived a pure life free from hostility or ill will. When you discover that they are true, you’ll be glad that you kept yourself safe (AN 3:66).

The Buddha readily acknowledged that there are times when following the precepts will put you at a disadvantage in terms of the world. You might lose your wealth, your health, or even your relatives. But those losses, he says, are minor in the long run. Major loss would be to lose your virtue or to lose right view. Those losses could harm you for many lifetimes to come. Here the lesson is obvious: For the sake of your long-term benefit, be willing to suffer the lesser losses to keep from suffering the major ones (AN 5:130).

At the same time, there are many occasions when breaking a precept brings short-term rewards in this world, but from that fact, the Buddha never drew the conclusion that those rewards justified breaking the precept (SN 42:13).

As for conflicting obligations, the texts tell of the case of a person who, finding that he’s about to be thrown into hell for breaking the precepts, pleads with the hell wardens for leniency: He broke the precepts because of his social obligations to family, friends, or king. Does he get any leniency? No. The hell wardens throw him into hell even as he’s making his plea (MN 97).

The Buddha said that if you want to help others, you can provide them with food, clothing, shelter, or medicine as needed. Better yet, you get them to follow the precepts, too (AN 4:99). By this token, if you tell others that there are times when it’s their moral duty to break the precepts, you’re actually working for their harm. If they act on your recommendation and are thrown into hell, will you be on hand to plead their case? And will the hell wardens give you a hearing?

So when the texts tell us to stick with the precepts in all cases, they’re actually teaching us how to protect our long-term well-being.

This doesn’t mean that the precepts leave you totally defenseless against an enemy, just that they force you to think outside the box. If you’re determined not to kill under any circumstances, that determination forces you to think in more creative ways to keep an adversary from taking advantage of you. You learn methods of self-defense that fall short of killing. You put more store in diplomacy and don’t look down on intelligent compromise.

The ideals of the texts are for those who want to go straight to liberation undeterred: They are the ones who should hold to the precepts no matter what, even being willing to die rather than to kill. However, there has to be guidance for those who want to take the longer road to liberation, through many lifetimes, at the same time fulfilling their social obligations, such as the duty to kill in defense of their country.

Actually, the early texts do describe a slow route to liberation, and a prime feature of that route is holding to the precepts in all situations (AN 8:54). Don’t do anything that would land you in the lower realms. 

By this standard, it’s hard to see how an even slower route, one that allowed for theories of just war, would count as a route to liberation at all. As the Buddha pointed out, if you’re in battle with the enemy, trying to kill them, your mind is immersed in ill will. If you get killed at that point, your mind-state would take you to hell. If you have the wrong view that what you’re doing is virtuous, you can go either to hell or to rebirth as an animal (SN 42:3). Neither of these destinations lies in the direction of nirvana. It would be like flying from Las Vegas to San Diego via Yemen, with a long layover in Afghanistan, during which time you’d probably forget where you were going to begin with.

The texts are obsessed with the letter of the precepts, but it’s important not to let the letter get in the way of their spirit, which is to cause the least harm for the greatest number of people. Sometimes you have to kill people to prevent them from doing greater harm.

This “spirit” is never expressed in the texts, and for good reason. It assumes that there’s a clear way of calculating when doing a lesser evil will prevent a greater evil, but what clear boundary determines what does and doesn’t go into the calculus? Can you discount the retaliation that will come from people who want to avenge your “lesser evil”? Can you discount the people who take you as an example in committing their own ideas of what constitutes a lesser evil? How many generations or lifetimes do you take into account? You can’t really control the indirect effects of your action once it’s done; you can’t tell for sure whether the killing you do will result in more or less killing than what you’re trying to prevent. But what is for sure is that you’ve used your own body or your own speech in giving orders—things over which you do have control—to kill. 

A principle that’s actually closer to the precepts, and allows for no misapplication, is that you never use other people’s misbehavior as justification for your own. No matter what other people do, you stick to the precepts.

Maybe the texts are hiding something. Maybe the Buddha didn’t intend the precepts to be taken as absolutes. There must have been times when kings came to consult with him on when war might be morally justified, but for some reason the texts never tell us what he said. 

This conspiracy theory is probably the most dangerous argument of all. Once it’s admitted as valid, you can turn the dharma into anything you want. I personally find it hard to believe that, after painting the picture of the soldier destined for hell when dying in battle, the Buddha would have privately discussed with King Pasenadi the grounds on which, for reasons of state, he could rightly send people into that situation. 

The texts tell us that he once told Pasenadi that if you break the precepts, then no matter how large your army, you leave yourself unprotected. If you keep the precepts, then even if you have no army at all, you’re well protected from within (SN 3:5). Was this teaching meant just for public consumption? Are we to assume that the Buddha was a two-faced Buddha who taught a secret doctrine to kings so completely at odds with what he taught in public?

The Buddha had so many chances to make exceptions to the precept against killing, but he always stuck by his principles: No intentional taking of life. Period. When you try to cast doubt on these principles, you’re working for the harm of many, leaving them unprotected when they try to determine what should and shouldn’t be done.

That’s much worse than leaving them without a license to kill an aggressor, no matter how bad.

The post Opinion: At War with the Dharma appeared first on Tricycle: The Buddhist Review.

What does it mean to live an ethical life today? What are the principles that can guide us in our daily actions?

In this series, Insight teacher Leslie Booker explores Buddhist teachings on sila, or moral conduct. Rooted in the recognition that we are deeply connected to each other, sila offers guidelines for moving through the world and taking care of ourselves, others, and the Earth. These guidelines include the five precepts, Buddhism’s basic code of ethics. When we follow the precepts, our life becomes our practice. They teach us to show up for one another with a fierce tenderness, remembering how deeply our lives are intertwined. Booker leads an investigation of the precepts as the foundation for all of our actions through the lens of dharma, embodied wisdom, and social justice.

Watch a recording of Leslie Booker’s live meditation, dharma talk, and Q&A session from December 10, 2020 here.

Leslie Booker brings her heart and wisdom to the intersection of dharma, embodied wisdom, and social justice. She shares her expertise nationally as a guest lecturer at conferences, universities, and dharma centers, on expanding our vision around culturally responsive teaching, and changing the paradigm of self and community care. She is a co-author of Best Practices for Yoga in a Criminal Justice Setting and a graduate of Spirit Rock’s Mindful Yoga and Meditation Training (2012), Community Dharma Leaders’ Training (2017), and four-year Retreat Teacher Training (2020).

The post Guidelines for an Ethical Life appeared first on Tricycle: The Buddhist Review.

Among the very first teachings the Buddha offered to his students—which would provide a foundation for the entirety of Buddhist training—were the guidelines for ethical living known as the five precepts. The Buddha knew that applying them to your thoughts, words, and actions every day, no matter how challenging they might be, is a sure way to improve your life by helping to resolve much of the emotional struggle and stress that cloud the mind. The precepts are integral to the Buddha’s path of practice, called the noble eightfold path, which guides the practice of virtue alongside the development of mental discipline and wisdom.

The precepts are usually recited as follows: I undertake to . . .

1. refrain from taking life (even an insect’s);
2. refrain from stealing or taking what is not freely given;
3. refrain from illicit sexual conduct (this includes sex with people who are already married or in relationships as well as with minors, and any other kind of sex that causes harm to oneself or others);
4. refrain from unskillful speech, including telling lies, gossiping, and speaking harshly;
5. abstain from taking intoxicants that cause heedlessness.

Much can be said about each individual precept and how abiding by them helps cut away the complications and entanglements and the resulting suffering we concoct for ourselves. Even people who don’t feel ready to meditate or take on other aspects of Buddhist practice can begin with the precepts and see positive changes in their circumstances and state of mind right away.

Some teachers recommend starting with a single precept—such as the pledge to refrain from lying—and practicing with that for a period of time. As the Thai Buddhist master Ajaan Fuang Jotiko once said, “if you can’t control your mouth, how can you ever learn to control your mind?” For most of us, it’s a sufficiently challenging place to begin.

The post The Buddha’s Guidelines for Simplifying Life appeared first on Tricycle: The Buddhist Review.

For decades, initiatives like the Prison Dharma Project have brought meditation and Buddhist teachings to incarcerated people across the country, but the image of the inmates who participate in these projects remains almost exclusively male. Yet inside at least one women’s prison, a tradition of Buddhist practice has emerged and continues to grow. On October 17, Kerry Vadasz and Erica Orta, two inmates at the Ohio Reformatory for Women, joined that tradition when they received the 16 bodhisattva precepts, in the fourth jukai ceremony held at the prison since 2012. 

Ordained Buddhist chaplain Katie Egart of the Yellow Springs Dharma Center has been volunteering at the Marysville, Ohio, prison since 2011, after Laura Taylor, who has been serving a life sentence since age 17, asked the prison chaplain to put her in touch with a Zen Buddhist teacher. 

“The chaplain called me and said, ‘I have an inmate who wants to ordain as a Zen Buddhist nun,’” Egart told Tricycle. “When I met Laura, I explained that I practice in a Zen tradition where lay people can take formal precepts. It turns out you can’t ordain at this prison.”

Laura’s interest in Zen led to the formation of a weekly sitting group. “I brought in cushions and we got permission for Laura to have a zabuton and zafu in her cell. Then more and more women started to join us,” Egart recalls. “But Laura is really the founding mother—it was her interest in Zen Buddhism that was the catalyst for my coming in there.” 

A year later after she began formal Zen study, Laura became the first woman at the reformatory to take the 16 precepts: the three treasures of taking refuge in the buddha, dharma, and sangha, the three pure precepts of not creating evil and practicing good for oneself and others, and the ten grave precepts which promote non-harming and ethical conduct. 

Laura and the students still face many challenges to their practices. In the months leading up to a jukai ceremony, Zen practitioners traditionally sew a rakasu, an apron-like garment that one wears to signify that one has taken the precepts. But getting a needle was difficult.

“At first, they insisted that Laura leave her rakasu in the chapel,” Egart said. “We had to count the needles going in and out, and I had to bring the needles every time, too. Things have gotten a lot better since then. There is a lot more trust, and the women can work on the rakasu outside of their cells.” 

The Ohio Reformatory practitioners in their own words: read an interview with Laura, Kerry, and Erica in Tricycle’s Summer 2020 issue. 

Formal Zen students also are expected to attend at least one or more sesshin, a silent retreat, and participate in private meetings [Jpn., dokusan] with their teacher for counseling and encouragement. In prison, these retreats are impossible.  

While the stringent regulations create extra hurdles for the Ohio Reformatory practitioners, Laura has helped lay the groundwork for later students. Laura had to work closely with Egart to create her rakusu, for instance, because she had no model to emulate. “But now Kerry and Erica can look at hers, and she can show them how to do it,” Egart explained. “They have an elder who has been through this before.”

Roshi Daniel Terragno, who teaches at the Rocks and Clouds Zendo in Sebastopol, California, and the Yellow Springs Dharma Center in Ohio, led the jukai ceremony at the prison chapel. 

After Roshi Terragno read each precept aloud, Kerry and Erica expressed, in their own words, what the precept meant to them personally. For the past year, Egart had worked through a curriculum with them, focusing on each precept one by one. Their syllabus included Taking the Path of Zen by Robert Aitken, Waking Up To What You Do by Diane Eshin Rizzetto, and Koshin Paley Ellison’s Wholehearted. 

“Once you spend time with each of the precepts, they open up lots of areas of your life,” Egart shared. “For instance, think about the precept of not killing. Very simply, that would mean not taking life, but then you start to ask, ‘What is life? And am I killing other people’s ideas in my interactions with them?’ It’s a very self-reflective process.” 

Outside of formal precept study, Egart also holds an informal Zen meeting group every week for the women at the reformatory, which includes sitting and walking meditation and a sutra service. 

“The women ask questions, and those questions often lead to little dharma talks. When I first started going in there, I used to think, ‘Today, I’m going to talk about this,’ but I soon realized that that was completely pointless; I have to go in empty, because I have to respond to whatever situation they’re dealing with.”

Since meeting Laura, Egart has helped four women take the precepts at the Ohio Reformatory, and has found the experience deeply rewarding.“People will often say to me, ‘Wow, you go into the prison.’ That’s not a big deal, though. What is a big deal is the women who have established and made a commitment to a practice. It’s not easy for anybody to have a practice, much less in a very concentrated, controlled environment. What they’ve managed to do is remarkable.”

The post A Buddhist Tradition Grows in an Ohio Women’s Prison appeared first on Tricycle: The Buddhist Review.

Good news and bad news. The bad news first: No, you do not have special dispensation from the Buddha to murder those obnoxious little rodent and insect pests that are somehow capable of terrorizing beings thousands of times their size, when all they want is a little food, water, and a place to get cozy up with their mates.

The good news is that with a little extra effort, you can rid yourself of these unwelcome guests (ants, mice, cockroaches, fleas, ticks, etc) and feel the karmic joy of living in the light of the dharma!

“Dharma” means truth and the teachings, and it is also the word for nature itself.  The Venerable Narada Mahathera tells us that as nature is the manifestation of truth, and of the teachings, we should cultivate kindness and compassion for all, trying not to kill or cause injury to any living creature, even the tiniest creature that crawls at our feet, and bites them.

Of course precepts, or guidelines for following the dharma, are training principles, and Buddhists undertake to observe them to the best of their abilities.  At times certain conditions may not allow us to rigidly adhere to the precepts and no one can live through life without ever breaking them.  It is at such times that we must use our common sense and human intelligence to make the best decisions. 

Related: Five Precepts of Buddhism Explained 

In Buddhism there is a long held and integral tradition of caring for animals and all living creatures. They are regarded in Buddhist thought as sentient beings, different than humans in their intellectual ability but no less capable of feeling suffering, fearing death, and craving life. Vasubandhu, a 4th century Indian scholar-monk and one of the most prominent figures in Buddhist history, said that it is deluded to kill even poisonous pests, and Asoka, the Buddhist King of India, posted edicts that included a prohibition on the killing of vermin of all kinds.

At the time of the Buddha, rules were made against monks wandering about in the rainy season in part due to the damage done to so many creatures rising to the surface of wet soil for a drink. The same applied to the cutting of trees that were seen as essential to the lives of many animals large and small (known as “breathers”). Asoka planted shade trees, medicinal herbs and wayside wells for both humans and animals. This culture of non-harming, and recognition of the right to life enjoyed by all sentient beings contributes to what makes a monastery or Buddhist temple feel so safe and welcoming to all.

Robert Thurman tells of the great India scholar-monk Asanga from the 5th century CE who had been meditating in a cave for 12 years, unsuccessfully, in order to gain a vision of the Bodhisattva Maitreya, the future Buddha and the embodiment of loving kindness.  One day he saw a stray dog afflicted with maggot infested sores. Fearing that pulling the maggots off the dog would harm them, he expended great effort to coax them off the sore and onto his warm and moist tongue where they could feed on his own flesh.  At this point, both the dog and the maggots disappeared, and a full and splendorous image of Maitreya appeared where the dog had once been.

Meanwhile, just by walking in the forest or breathing the air, we are taking the life of many small creatures. We inadvertently kill hundreds of insects on a nighttime car ride. We wipe out thousands of bacteria, also sentient beings, daily when we shower and brush our teeth and disinfect our homes.  Generally, there has been a strong element of practicality in Buddhism relative to the extent people are expected to go to avoid any and all killing.

This is one way that the Middle Path distinguished itself from Jainism, where the most devoted of followers would shun clothing, wear masks to filter out airborne creatures, and sweep their path before letting their feet touch the ground. The Buddhist approach to ahimsa, or non-harming, in the realm of small animals and microorganisms, was to exercise all reasonable measures to avoid needless or avoidable killing—recognizing that these creatures too want to eat and avoid harm. In fact, humans are not apart from the world of microorganisms, and are made up of many smaller beings living on us and within us.

Related: A Fishy Antidote to a Bloody Sacrifice 

Nevertheless, as Buddhist scholar Brian Peter Harvey explains, to kill or harm another being, whether it is a rat or a cockroach or a horse, is to ignore the fragility and aspiration for happiness that one has in common with it. This violates the dharma of interdependence, and compassion. The Buddha made no distinction between the sizes of the victim (cow or ant) or between intentions in killing (self-defense or hunting for pleasure). However, Buddhism focuses heavily on intention, so that all acts of killing are not necessarily equally blameworthy. However, its stronger emphasis on compassion insures that not harming other beings is always praiseworthy.

The Dalai Lama was once asked about swatting mosquitoes. He chuckled and said that if his mood is good, he will often just let the creature have a little blood.  If another one comes, his patience might become stretched a little thin and he would blow the offending creature off his arm. If yet a third mosquito comes, His Holiness said he is likely to give it a careful little shove off his arm.

Most of the time, the creatures we call pests are attracted to our homes because of food scraps, leftovers, and a lack of cleanliness. So, technically, these small animals have been invited into our homes.

The three basic factors of a Buddhist approach to pests are to prevent, repel, and remove.

First of all, because it is quick, harmless, and vouched for by many Buddhists, one should start the campaign to oust the unwanted critters by standing in their presence and chanting to directly to them, as follows:

May all living beings be well, happy and peaceful.
May no harm come to you.
May no difficulties come to you.
May no problems come to you.
May you always meet with success.
May you have patience, courage, understanding, and determination to meet and overcome inevitable difficulties, problems, and failures in life.
May you also have the wisdom to know that you should leave here immediately, and if not, steps will be taken to remove you.

The next day, or at the end of the same day, take these steps respectively:

Ants

If you have an ant infestation, use your vacuum to quickly get rid of the invaders, and then immediately empty the vacuum bag in the outdoor compost pile or at some distance from your house.

Do not use ant bait, or poison sprays like Raid that continue in the toxic waste stream from their point of manufacture to their ultimate destination in landfills or via runoff or sewage into our waterways and oceans.

It is important to quickly erase the scent trail that the ants have laid down. First, wash with soapy water and then use a citrus-based repellent, or spray countertops and affected areas with a mixture of juiced lemon, tea tree oil, grapefruit seed extract, and a little mint tea.

The key to ant control is cleanliness: wipe up food spills immediately, wipe down food preparation surfaces with soapy water, remove garbage frequently, clean food debris out of sinks, rinse well any dirty dishes left in the sink, and sweep and mop floors regularly.

Store the food most attractive to ants (honey, sugar, sweet liqueurs, cough syrup, etc.) in the fridge or in jars with rubber gaskets and lids that close with a metal clamp, or zip-lock bags. Unless the lid of a screw-top jar has a rubber seal, ants will follow the threads right into the jar. A few layers of waxed paper (not plastic wrap) between the jar and the lid, if screwed down tightly, will work well as a barrier. Transfer other foods, such as cookies, cereals, crackers, etc in paper boxes, to containers with tight-fitting lids or zip locks; and keep butter in the fridge. Paper and cardboard boxes are not ant-proof.

Feed your pet only what it will eat immediately, and then wash the bowl frequently.  If you need to have food on hand available to your pets, put the bowl inside of a larger soup bowl and create a shallow water moat around the bowl.

Keep kitchen scraps in a tightly sealed plastic or metal container. Throw non-recyclable food containers (plastic ice cream cartons, meat wrapping paper, etc.) in an outside trashcan. Wash glass, tin, and aluminum food containers thoroughly before tossing them into an indoor recycling bin.

Use hot soapy water to wipe down kitchen and appliance surfaces where sticky hands or food spills may have left some residue: kitchen counters, floors, cabinet doors and handles, fridge handle, stove knobs, sides of toaster, blender, etc. Immediately mop up food spills and sweep up food crumbs.

Keep ants off the kitchen counters by spraying surfaces with 50:50 solution of vinegar and water.  You can go all the way applying small amounts of cayenne pepper and cinnamon at entry points of large infestations. Scented talcum powder, red chili powder, as well as ground black pepper are reputed to be major inhibitors as well.

Seal as many entry points as possible: weather-strip doors and use caulking to fill gaps in window and door frames and around baseboards, pipes, sinks, toilets, and electrical outlets. Prune trees and shrubs away from exterior walls, to prevent ants using them as a bridge into the house.

Try to cultivate a good relationship with the Daddy-Long-Legs spiders. They are intelligent and make their webs along the ant entry points, usually near the front door and the bathroom window. Let the spiders do their job.

Cockroaches

Cockroaches are among the hardiest insects on the planet. Some species are capable of remaining active for a month without food and are able to survive on limited resources like the glue from the back of postage stamps. Some can go without air for 45 minutes. In one experiment, cockroaches were able to recover from being submerged underwater for half an hour.

If you have cockroaches, then you, or your immediate neighbors, are keeping an unclean household. Cockroaches leave chemical trails in their feces and emit airborne pheromones for swarming and mating. Other cockroaches will follow these trails to discover sources of food and water, and also discover where other cockroaches are hiding. Cockroaches are mainly nocturnal and will run away when exposed to light.

Cockroaches hate the smell of bay leaves. Smash up some bay leaves in a bowl and sprinkle them in the corners of your home where you have seen the cockroaches. It is helpful to do this is the kitchen and in the corners of the kitchen cabinets.

An inexpensive roach trap can easily be made from a deep smooth-walled jar with some roach food inside, placed with the top of the jar touching a wall or with sticks leading up to the top, so that the roaches can reach the opening. Once inside, they cannot climb back out. A bit of Vaseline can be smeared on the inside of the jar to enhance slipperiness. You can then take the jars to a remote location and set the cockroaches free.

Fleas

Fleas come to you via your pets. Put a small plate greased with vaseline under a nightlight. The fleas will be attracted to the light, jump into the plate and get stuck by the vaseline. You have to remove the plates every one to two days– take them outside and sprinkle dirt on the plate so that they will eventually have enough traction to climb out of the plate to freedom. Put a plate in each room that has fleas.

Sprinkle your pet with cornstarch or baking soda. Let it sit, and then brush it off outside. Feeding your pet garlic will help repel fleas, but garlic is toxic to some breeds in small quantities and all breeds in larger quantities; consult with your veterinarian before giving your pet any garlic. If approved by your veterinarian, add chopped raw garlic, and garlic oil, or powder to your pet food in the quantities your vet prescribed. Launder the dog or cat beds in the house on a weekly basis. Put half a teaspoon cider vinegar in your cat’s water dish for three days.

It can take 3 to 6 weeks for flea eggs to hatch. Once you have taken care of fleas on your pets, thoroughly clean your home environment of any fleas and flea eggs. If there is a serous outbreak, your pet may be unwell, or poorly nourished. You may need to give your pet internal medicine that repels the fleas.

Mice/Rats

Along the central coast of California where I live, you either have cats or rats.  Get a cat or two, if possible. Females tend to be better mousers or rat-eaters. They can live in the garage at night, and have free run of your yard in the daytime.  If they are semi-feral, all the better. Lure them into the garage at night with just a little food, and they will be slightly hungry most of the time, and eager to search for rodents.  It is not realistic to expect that your content well-fed house-cat is going to suddenly become a mouse hunter. 

If you have mice, use Humane No-Kill Mousetraps, available on the web, and at veganessentials.com.  My favorite is the Catchmaster Repeater Humane Mouse Trap which is also easily available on the web. Check them frequently, and using gloves, dispose of the mice as far from the house as conveniently possible. If electronic mouse repellers that use ultrasonic noises were effective, mice would be rare.

A mouse will eat almost anything, but they prefer cereal grains, seeds, or sweet material. They require very little water, obtaining most of their water needs from their food.  They multiply rapidly and are most easily detectable by their rod shaped droppings (feces) –about 1/8-1/4 inches long. Mice may contaminate your food supply with their feces and urine.

House mice or rats gnaw through electrical wiring, causing fires and failure of freezers, clothes dryers and other appliances. Rodents can carry a wide variety of diseases transmissible to humans. A very real problem with the infestation of mice is the Hantavirus and Salmonella. Always wear intact rubber or plastic gloves when removing rodents and when cleaning or disinfecting items contaminated by rodents.

For those with serious or frequent infestations, invest in a UV Rodent Tracker, an industrial grade professional UV LED light. This UV light is able to detect the presence of urine, making rodent inspection easier and more efficient.

Close all openings through which they can enter a structure, and seal cracks and openings in building foundations and openings for water pipes, vents and utilities. Prevent mice from chewing or pulling out patching compounds by making sure patching materials are smooth on the surface. Be sure doors, windows and screens fit tightly. All food that is stored, processed or used should be made mouse-proof. (See section on ants).

With a little work, and easy maintenance following, you can be rodent-free indefinitely.

Ticks

Ticks had a PR problem with humans long before the big news about Lyme disease. They want our blood and their bites are enduringly painful.  This is one of the most challenging pests to contend with, as the desire to make ticks an exception to the “Do Not Kill” precept can be understandably strong.  Getting them off of yourself and your pets is hard enough, and then what do you do with them?  Their fluids are toxic to humans. 

The good news is there is a safe way to dispose of ticks without killing them—or risking their return.  After you have removed the tick from its host, using magic tape only, tape the tick(s) to a sheet of paper, and toss the paper into the compost.  Ticks, as our luck would have it, can live without motion or nourishment for weeks. By the time the tick has spent a few nights in the compost heap, the paper and tape decompose just enough to free the animal.

Bugs on Plants (aphids. etc)

As a preventative, add peppermint essential oil mixed with a little water in a mister bottle and spray directly on your plants.  On sight of aphids or other plant bearing bugs, wash the foliage with insect soap, and then maintain by spraying the peppermint solution regularly.  The greatest guarantee, aside from cleanliness, may be metta meditation.  Learn the lines and then you can substitute yourself and your loved ones and gradually larger groups until the entire circle of life is included. I don’t know anyone who practices metta who has a pest problem.  

For further compassionate solutions, contact the Bio-Integral Resource Center (BIRC). 

Correction (3/21/2019): A previous version of this article advised feeding pets limited quantities garlic to repel fleas; the article has been updated to reflect garlic’s toxicity to pets in certain circumstances, and recommend consulting with a veterinarian. 

[This story was originally published in 2011]

The post How to Get Rid of Pests and Bugs the Buddhist Way appeared first on Tricycle: The Buddhist Review.

Bernie Flynn, a longtime student of Chögyam Trungpa, recently told me about the time he and the Rinpoche tried to quit smoking cigarettes. A few days in, he was driving the Rinpoche to a meeting. Antsy and in withdrawal, Bernie couldn’t help but notice his teacher sitting calmly in the passenger seat. Finally, his nerves on edge, Bernie turned to Trungpa and asked how the whole quitting thing was going. “It’s easy,” said Trungpa. “Either you smoke, or you don’t smoke.”

Ah, so simple.

Later that evening, Bernie entered a room to find the Rinpoche gleefully chain smoking.

Oh, not so simple.

The psychoactive effects of drugs, alcohol included, don’t exactly jibe with the goals of Buddhist practice. Sure, some people stumble into the dharma after stumbling through an acid trip, but the fact that LSD can be a gateway to practice doesn’t mean it’s allowed beyond the gate of any respectable dharma institution. And though many Buddhists drink, it’s generally understood that this should occur in moderation and off the cushion. Hence, refraining from intoxicants is one of the five basic Buddhist precepts.

Cigarettes, however, seem to exist in a hazy gray area, both literally and figuratively. Caffeine, a substance that might otherwise find itself in similar ambiguous territory, has a sexy origin story: the Ch’an patriarch Bodhidharma, angry at himself for dozing off during zazen, rips off his eyelids and flings them to the ground, from which sprout the first tea leaves. Thus caffeine has long been accepted by Buddhists the world over as a mild performance enhancing drug, endorsed by legend. Tobacco, lacking such an auspicious beginning, has long been tolerated in Buddhist communities anyway, though the Buddhist stance on smoking is vague at best. 

Thus, the question remains. Either you smoke, or you don’t smoke, yes, but should you smoke? I found the answer, like a good koan, to be both elusive and entirely dependent upon who is answering.

_____

Smoking is not technically prohibited in Buddhism, but then again, neither is juggling chainsaws or playing Russian roulette. It would be tedious if all prohibited actions had to be spelled out (which doesn’t mean people haven’t tried. See: the Vinaya). I pointed this out to Dr. Joel Smith, Associate Professor of Philosophy at Skidmore College. “Of course [smoking is not prohibited],” said Smith, “but if you look at the eightfold path and you have any kind of subtle interpretation about right action and right effort, it doesn’t take much to argue that [right action and right effort] should be applied in that kind of way.”

Smith traveled in Japan with John Daido Loori Roshi, longtime abbot of the Zen Mountain Monastery in upstate New York, when Daido was receiving his confirmation rituals at Eihei-ji many years ago. He remembered Daido stepping outside the Eihei-ji buildings to smoke in between ceremonies.

“I asked him about it once,” Smith said, “and he responded, ‘Zen is not a health trip.’”

While this may be true, it glosses over the fact that smoking is, at its most basic, a harmful action. Dr. Smith has been teaching Buddhism and Eastern philosophy for decades, and over the years he has brought many students to dharma institutions to hear teachings. A number of them, he said, are turned off by the fact that they see monks smoking. “This is really where the rubber hits the road,” said Smith. “You can talk generally about compassion, but if you can’t apply it to something so basic in one’s personal life, then what the heck is going on?”

Aside from the issue of alienating the dharma-curious, the fact that Buddhists smoke raises a deeper issue for Smith. “If you love life and affirm it and want to do good in the world and be compassionate to other people, then you want to make your body and your mind as much of a vehicle for that as possible for as long as possible.” Smoking cigarettes would seem to undercut that possibility, limiting the amount of time one has to be a vehicle for the dharma. So why do Buddhist teachers continue to allow their addiction to impinge on their responsibilities? Shouldn’t overcoming their addiction be of the utmost importance, both as exemplars of the teachings and as vehicles for them?

I put this question to Dr. Judson Brewer, the director of research at the Center for Mindfulness. Brewer and his team at Yale University have developed the Craving to Quit app, which uses mindfulness to help people kick their addiction. “It’s a great question and I would want to talk to these folks and get their story,” said Brewer. “Is it just a habit that’s so much in the background that you’re not paying attention or is the level of suffering that it causes so minimal that there’s no drive to change the behavior?”

I asked Brewer if Buddhist teachers have a moral imperative not to smoke.

“If I had a gun and I killed myself, that wouldn’t be that helpful if I were a good teacher. And smoking has obviously been linked to increased mortality and morbidity, as well as a number of illnesses, including cancer.”

Indeed, John Daido Loori Roshi died of lung cancer in 2009 (though he did give up smoking later in life). Like shooting yourself with a gun, smoking will ultimately aid in your demise. “It’s not exactly suicide,” said Brewer. “It’s just a slower burn.”

_____

In 2005 I was one of 33 college students who lived in a Burmese monastery in Bodhgaya, India, where we studied Buddhism and lived according to the five basic precepts. Though it may have gone against our youthful inclinations, we refrained from taking intoxicants, sex, stealing, lying, and killing.

Cigarettes, however, were not prohibited, and like many of my fellow students, I took up smoking. We spent countless afternoons on the roof of our dorm, watching our cigarette smoke drift away while ruminating over deep questions like, is killing a malaria-ridden mosquito bad karma or good karma? Since we were suddenly living a life of previously unimaginable austerity, smoking didn’t seem like such a big deal. It gave us something to do, and though we were learning about the emptiness of self, smoking seemed like the last way we could fill ourselves up, albeit with smoke. It gave us something to cling to, the last iceberg in a sea of melting vices.

Maybe the fact that Buddhists smoke is as simple as that. Maybe Buddhists the world over puff because it is one of the few remaining ways they can puff themselves up. For a spiritual tradition so devoted to compassion and helping others, cigarettes may be the final frontier of autonomy. In a spiritual tradition so devoted to the eradication of self, cigarettes might be the last shred of selfishness. Fumo ergo sum.

I smoke, therefore I am.

_____

Google Buddhism and smoking and the resulting hits are not what I would describe as particularly helpful (unless you want lurid details about the monks recently arrested for smoking Crystal Meth in Phnom Penh, Cambodia). However, I did come across an amusing anecdote from the blog of the Scottish-born Buddhist teacher Bodhipaksa:

A young monk strolled into the office of the head monk.

“Say, man. Would it like be okay if I smoke when I meditate?”

The head monk turned pale and began quivering. When he recovered, he gave the young man a stern lecture about the sanctity of meditation. The novice listened thoughtfully and went away.

A few weeks later, he returned with another question.

“I’m concerned about my spiritual development. I notice that I spend a lot of time smoking. I was wondering, do you think it would be okay if when I am smoking, I practice my meditation?”

The older man was overjoyed and of course said yes.

I’m not so sure about the credentials of this pale, quivering head monk (or, for that matter, the novice), but I found the anecdote surprisingly informative. Perhaps the point isn’t what we do, but how we do it. Perhaps, in taking a “thou shalt not” approach, we miss the moment for the creed.

When I emailed the Bodhgaya alumni to ask for help researching this topic, one person responded, “Wouldn’t a Buddhist smoking cigarettes be kind of hypocritical, irresponsible, and ironic?” It is attitudes like this that reveal the gap between what people believe about Buddhists and how Buddhists actually behave. And maybe this is the crux of this issue. Maybe this isn’t about smoking at all but about the ideals we place on our teachers.

In his book Sex, Sin, and Zen, author and Zen teacher Brad Warner writes, “When we project our expectations about what a divine being ought to be onto real people, what else can we hope for besides disappointment?” After all, addiction does not discriminate between enlightened and unenlightened, and perhaps, in smoking, teachers unwillingly demonstrate that addiction is not a roadblock to realization. This notion—that an enlightened person can be an addicted person—might shatter our preconceptions about realization, but to practice Buddhism and believe one’s preconceptions will remain neatly intact seems about as naïve as believing a teacher is a divine being.

Warner’s own teacher, Gudo Nishijima, was himself a heavy smoker. But, said Warner, it wasn’t a problem. “He told me once that he just happened to notice one day that smoking was a bad habit, so he stopped doing it.”

“I tend to think Buddhist teachers are like artisans who take on apprentices,” said Warner. “If we take that viewpoint, it’s not such a big deal whether the teacher smokes or not. But a teacher who smokes should know that their behavior is going to be imitated. If the teacher cares about that, then maybe they should not smoke.”

So should Buddhists be required to refrain from smoking?

“I don’t think Buddhism should be in the business of requiring people to do or not do things. That seems to go against everything Buddhism is about. If you demand people follow the Buddhist rules, that demanding itself is counter to the Buddhist philosophical approach. The precepts are not requirements.”

Randall Ryotan Eiger, sensei at the Village Zendo in Manhattan, who studied with Daido for eight years, was himself a smoker for 20 years, and as a freelance speechwriter in the 80s and 90s worked for a major tobacco company. His Buddhist smoking credentials run deep, so I asked him the same question. Should Buddhists refrain from smoking?

“To be a Buddhist means to take refuge in the three treasures of Buddha, dharma, and sangha,” said Ryotan. “I don’t believe one needs to be a non-smoker, or any particular kind of person, in order to take refuge.”

Indeed, such stringent requirements would create a culture of exclusion, leaving out those with addictions who might otherwise benefit immensely from the dharma. As Dr. Brewer pointed out, his app has exposed many people to the dharma “through their own doorway of suffering, which is smoking.”

As for Buddhist teachers, Ryotan disagreed with the idea that they have a “moral imperative” not to smoke.

“One sign of the moral confusion in our market-driven society is that people have the tendency to elevate consumer and lifestyle choices into matters of high moral drama, leading to overblown talk of ‘moral imperatives.’ Tortuous analysis of one’s thoughts and actions produces a facsimile of moral seriousness that is pleasing to the ego, but it is no substitute for the wisdom and compassion that arise from the awakened heart.”

He continued, “Is smoking inherently unhealthy, unwise, and maybe a little selfish? The answer is ‘yes.’ Are smokers inherently unable to realize their buddhanature and save all beings? The answer is ‘obviously not.’”

_____

Zen is not a health trip. Depending on your view of smoking, this response is either frustratingly reductive or refreshingly concise. For some, like Dr. Smith, smoking remains one of the largest thorns in Buddhism’s side. “Smoking involves in a personal, immediate way the core Buddhist issues of suffering, craving, death, compassion, and awakening,” said Smith. “What matters is how well one deals with those issues concretely, in smoking and other concrete immediate situations. Smoking isn’t the only place where we can engage these issues—they come up elsewhere, obviously—but it’s one of the ways, and we must engage them there.”

For others, the fact that some Buddhists smoke is as mundane as the fact that some Buddhists eat meat. But even Brad Warner understands the reservations one might have about teachers who smoke. “As a learner, I would steer clear of teachers who have such obvious bad habits on the grounds that if they can’t even get it together to stop smoking, how can I believe they can guide me to get past my own bad habits?” And yet, Warner’s own teacher smoked, and perhaps that is why he and other teachers are unwilling to take a stance against cigarettes.

Nirvana means “extinguishing the flame.” When faced with the issue of human suffering, the burning ember of a lit cigarette might not seem like the highest priority. There is a more pressing conflagration at hand. Either you smoke, or you don’t smoke, yes, but in the end, we are all part of the slow burn anyhow. And maybe in the end, to borrow a phrase from the smoker Charles Bukowski, what matters most is not whether or not you smoke, but how well you walk through the fire.

[This story was first published in 2015.]

The post The Slow Burn appeared first on Tricycle: The Buddhist Review.

We literally cannot help ourselves. The news is toxic, the conversations about it are often rancorous . . . and yet, let me scroll down one more time to see what else is new.

Certainly, the Trump administration has brought with it new opportunities to worry, obsess, fear, get angry, get motivated, detach, indulge—and with any luck, to notice these various mind states as they come and go. The Internet, too, is quite new, at least in terms of human evolution.

But some of our online conundrum is, in fact, quite old. Given the research on Internet addiction, I want to suggest that it’s time to expand the fifth precept, which proscribes the consumption of intoxicants, to include the online world. The Internet is an intoxicant and should be treated as such.

First, social media is designed to maximize addictive behavior. Push notifications, “likes,” and other positive feedback loops have been shown to trigger the brain’s dopamine system. With each “like” you get, your brain gets the same little jolt that it gets from drugs, sex, gambling, and other potentially addictive stimuli.

Thanks to evolution, we are wired to watch vigilantly for threats and reward, and to enjoy that reward when it comes. Thanks to social media, that happens every time your phone beeps.

What is that? Anticipation. Did I get a new like? Hope for validation. I did! Dopamine reward. This cycle activates the same parts of the brain as heroin and cocaine. Indeed, a 2011 study showed that heavy Internet users suffered physical and mental withdrawal symptoms after unplugging for a day.

And then there’s the converse: the feelings of envy or loneliness that can arise from viewing other people’s life updates. Researchers have dubbed this “Facebook depression.” Another study showed that the reward centers in young people’s brains were activated more by the “likes” a photo gets than by the content of the photo itself. We are, after all, social animals.

Related: Retreat or Fight? Both are Right. 

Again, none of this is an accident. As technology folks readily admit, they’ve designed products to exploit your brain chemistry as effectively and efficiently as possible. There’s no hidden agenda here: it’s right out in the open. Each time you scroll down, you see another ad. Each ad you see, the advertiser pays a few cents. Now multiply that by a billion.

Of course, this isn’t really new either. After all, both I and Tricycle have successfully enticed you to read this piece. We did it the way journalists have for centuries, with a (hopefully) interesting topic and a (hopefully) attention-grabbing headline. And if we didn’t have donors, you probably wouldn’t be reading these words.

But some of this really is new. Never before has an industry as large as social media had as many tools to maximize its impact on the human mind. And those tools are only going to get better (or worse): live video, augmented reality, virtual reality, sharper targeting for content and ads, wearable devices, new platforms, and, of course, innovations we can’t yet imagine. In a decade, we’re going to look back at 2017 as quaint.

That combination of improved means for unimproved ends is why it’s worth looking at older, yet often timeless, attempts to grapple with the addictive potentialities of mind. The fifth precept, present in multiple Buddhist traditions, is one of those.

Related: Can Virtual Reality Help You Reach Enlightenment? 

The precept, in its classical forms, is refraining from liquors and other intoxicants. In Pali, sura-meraya-majja-pamadatthana literally means “abstaining from fermented drink that causes heedlessness.” There are many opinions as to the scope of the precept. On the strict side, almost everyone agrees that not just fermented drink but other intoxicants are also to be avoided.

On the lenient side, many have said that intoxicants are only to be avoided when they cause heedlessness. One glass of wine is unlikely to cause heedlessness; a whole bottle quite likely would. So the former would not violate the precept, while the latter would.

But if Internet use has been shown to function neurologically like other intoxicants, what’s the difference between it and beer and marijuana? Obviously, moderate use of all these substances doesn’t cause heedlessness. Equally obviously, excessive use does. The precept isn’t about vodka as opposed to gin; it’s about how intoxicants lead to un-mindfulness. And anyone who’s lost an hour (or two) on Facebook can tell you about that.

Including Internet use within the fifth precept can lead to a number of benefits. First, of course, you might not spend as much time and energy falling into rabbit holes of distraction or pits of rage and despair. That’s the main benefit: less of the insanity.

But there are other benefits too. Taking on the fifth precept in this way can lead to helpful discernment practice. We all need to be informed about the terrifying political moment we are living in. And it’s good to be connected to our friends and family. But can you notice when you’ve tipped over from those “wholesome” activities to the “unwholesome” activity of Internet addiction?

I’ve noticed that with me it’s quite subtle. Often there’s just a small movement of heart that indicates that, oops, now I’m just wasting time. Or that I’m looking for something to amuse myself. It’s ironic, really: social media both plugs us into bad news and offers candy-like distractions from it. It creates the problem and then pretends to solve it—all because we’d rather have some interesting formations [any physical or mental concepts]  to amuse ourselves. I’ve found it really interesting to observe these subtle movements of mind.

Finally, including Internet use in the fifth precept can be a useful reminder that this is not your special problem. It’s not your weakness, alone among all us better Buddhists. In fact, there’s no “you” getting brain-addled, Internet-addicted, or bored in the first place. It’s causes and conditions, not self. Take a human brain and expose it to the right bells and lights and it will get entranced. That’s how this organism works.

And that’s why the fifth precept is offered as a universal guide. Regardless of the particular forms, human brains can get intoxicated, careless, and worse. In the sixth century BCE, intoxicants were mostly fermented drinks. Today, they’re on your phone and laptop. Much has changed, but much has stayed the same.

[This story was first published in 2017]

The post The Fifth Precept in the Age of Facebook and Trump appeared first on Tricycle: The Buddhist Review.

After 12 years of offering a weekly Buddhist program at Sing Sing Correctional Facility, the Village Zendo has given the first precept ceremony at the maximum-security prison north of New York City.

“It took a long time for the group to have the maturity,” said Randall Ryotan Sensei Eiger, who has coordinated the program since its inception in 2005. “There was a growing interest in that side of the practice, and I finally decided it was time.”

The precepts are a set of ethical guidelines in the Buddhist tradition, and the 16 Bodhisattva Precepts of the Village Zendo include the three refuges (taking refuge in the Buddha, his teachings, and the community), the three pure precepts (not-knowing, bearing witness, and loving the self and others), and the 10 grave precepts, which include abstaining from killing, stealing, and taking or giving drugs.

Volunteer teachers from the Village Zendo travel to the prison in Ossining every Sunday to meet a core group of about 10 practitioners. Many of the members have very long sentences, Eiger said, and one of the members has been with the group since its beginning.

Eiger declined to give the name of the inmate who took the precepts, citing privacy reasons required by the Department of Corrections as well as his personal policy.

“I was very happy when he took the precepts. He was really ready, he was going through some really positive changes in his life,” Eiger said.

Eiger and other teachers from the Village Zendo spent six weeks preparing for the precept ceremony, which took place on Oct. 23, 2016. Eiger said that although the group meets in a prison, the program is very similar to what is offered at the Village Zendo—periods of zazen [sitting meditation], a ceremony, and a dharma talk.

Still, the practitioners and teachers have to contend with Department of Corrections regulations and the often-violent reality of prison life.

“It was out of the question that he’d be able to sew his own rakusu [a Zen garment worn around the neck], so that part we fudged,” Eiger said. “Their main concern was that the rakusu might become some kind of gang identification. So they were OK with [him having it] as long as he didn’t take it back to his cell.”

Except for two hours on Sundays, the rakusu, as well as other religious supplies from the different faith groups that offer services at the prison, are locked up in a cabinet.

And while Sing Sing might seem to offer a different set of challenges regarding the vows, Eiger said the way he teaches the precepts is “they’re not separate from the environment that you’re living in.

“They’re going to be different if you’re living in a monastery in India or if you’re in a monastery in the United States, or if you’re working in a law office or if you’re incarcerated in a maximum security facility. The precepts are the thing,” Eiger said. “[In prison], sometimes other guys will confront you, challenge you in some way. They call it ‘being punked.’ And if you back down or flash them the peace sign you can expect to be in danger of your life. So the question we work with at Sing Sing is how you keep the precepts in this environment.”

The post Village Zendo Offers First Precept Ceremony at Sing Sing Correctional Facility appeared first on Tricycle: The Buddhist Review.

A Sri Lankan monk once told me, “There is no doubt: if you follow the five precepts, you will be happy. You will live a good life.” We were standing outside the Mahabodhi Temple, in Bodh Gaya, India, discussing the Buddhist path for lay followers. At that point in my life, the monk’s words struck me as uncomplicatedly true. I was living in a Buddhist monastery as part of the Antioch Buddhist Studies program and observing the five precepts with such fervency that I wouldn’t borrow my roommate’s flashlight for even a minute without asking first. “What if she comes back to her room and needs her flashlight while you have it?” my teacher asked sensibly. “It’s a way of avoiding unnecessary complications.” The four months I spent in India were undoubtedly the happiest, simplest days of my life.

So I have complete faith that Shakyamuni Buddha knew what he was talking about when he offered a group of five hundred lay followers a prescription for leading a virtuous life, as told in the Dhammika Sutta: do not injure others, lie, steal, consume intoxicants, or “go with another man’s wife” (nowadays understood to mean “engage in sexual misconduct”). But these guidelines are much stickier to apply in the “real world” than in an Indian monastery filled with devout meditators and robed men and women. Back in the States and back into the swing of college life, I once again began to lie for the sake of convenience, get drunk a couple of nights a week, sleep with people I didn’t love, and subject the ants in my kitchen to death by tile cleaner.

Apparently I am not the only American who considers myself a Buddhist even as I routinely break the precepts. Chögyam Trungpa Rinpoche, the founder of the Shambhala lineage, famously showed up drunk to dharma talks and was known to have had sexual relationships with students. And Richard Baker Roshi, Shunryu Suzuki Roshi’s successor as abbot of San Francisco Zen Center, was pushed out of the organization following an affair with a married student, which catalyzed long-simmering resentments about his leadership style. In a 1985 Yoga Journal article, Jack Kornfield wrote that of 54 teachers and gurus he interviewed, 34 said they had been sexually involved with their students.

It’s no coincidence that the most controversial transgressions against the precepts in fledgling American dharma centers have been related to the open-ended admonition against sexual misconduct. The difference between a white lie and a manipulative untruth is relatively clear; sorting out the wholesome signals one’s body gives from the unwholesome ones presents a much more complicated challenge. It actually took me several years to realize that simply feeling attracted to someone is not a good enough reason to sleep with him.

I’m not sure where I got the idea, which I carried with me throughout college, that pleasurable sex was a virtuous, guilt-free activity. This outlook was at least partly societal: the general consensus among my peers was that orgasms made you happy, pure and simple. And they did make me happy, but they also irrevocably tied my life, however trivially, to the person who gave them to me. Sexual contact is always a commitment, if not to a relationship, then to future dealings—a talk, awkwardness, avoidance, an unrequited crush—stuff my Bodh Gaya teacher would call “unnecessary complications.” As an undergrad, I failed to accept this. I noticed the anxiety caused by sexual encounters, but I never considered changing my behavior. I suppose I had an idea that being open with my sexuality indicated that I was liberated, a freethinker who acted as she chose—and the baggage that came with that freedom? It was just something I had to learn to deal with.

Perhaps this is not so different from the thinking that gave rise to infidelity and teacher-student romances in emergent American sanghas of decades past. Just how hard and fast does the precept against sexual indiscretion need to be? Turning to the Dhammapada for guidance, we are presented with a seemingly unequivocal view: “Whoever [breaks the five precepts],” the Buddha is quoted as saying, “digs up the roots of himself even here in this very world.” But Shakyamuni’s overarching message throughout his life was that one must be one’s own wisdom. In the Kalama Sutta, he states, “Do not go upon…what is in a scripture. Kalamas, when you yourselves know: ‘These things are bad’…abandon them.” I read this as: always follow the five precepts. And figure out what that means on your own.

Indeed, since the publication of Kornfield’s article 20 years ago, dharma centers throughout the US have struggled to settle on appropriate interpretations of the precepts. Some centers have adopted a strict policy of disallowing sexual relationships between students and teachers. The San Francisco Zen Center leaves the option on the table, but only after a period of long and careful consideration. And Shambhala firmly discourages sexual relationships between teachers and students, but stops short of instituting strict rules.

Just as Buddhism in America underwent, and continues to undergo, a process of evolution, Buddhists are challenged to take a similar journey on a personal level. In a culture where one-night stands and “friends with benefits” are accepted as integral to the young adult experience, it took me years to develop a healthy relationship to sex that was wholly my own. Throughout college—notwithstanding my semester in Bodh Gaya—I created undue strain for myself and others by entering sexual relationships casually, often when my thinking was clouded by drinking. If I was having so much fun, I couldn’t be doing anything wrong, right? Twice, I woke up next to someone I couldn’t even bring myself to kiss in the sober light of morning. And these were guys I really liked—as friends. I had to endure weeks of awkwardness before our friendship returned to normal.

For a while, I experienced the closest thing to religious guilt that I’d ever known. Why couldn’t I have simply followed the precepts in the first place? I had always had faith in them; I just hadn’t translated that faith into action. Once I started paying attention to the sense of regret I felt after these experiences, though, I began to develop a “real-world” commitment to the commonsense wisdom of the precepts. Thanks in part to the Buddhist conception of regret as an opportunity not for self-flagellation but for change, I soon saw that I simply needed stricter standards for my conduct in order to make sure I handled my romantic life responsibly and with respect.

In At Home in Muddy Water: The Zen of Living with Everyday Chaos, the Zen teacher Ezra Bayda writes, “The difference between experiencing our sexuality as heaven or hell is rooted in one thing only, and this is the clarity of our awareness.” For me, living up to self-made standards requires not harsh policing, but clarity. (Never drinking hard liquor or removing any of my body hair before I go out helps, too.) If I’m considering getting intimately involved with someone, remembering the regret that I’ve felt in the past is usually enough of a motivation to act mindfully. I ask myself questions like “Would I want to kiss this person if we weren’t drinking Coronas and dancing to the Pet Shop Boys?” or “Do I really think I can look past this guy’s homophobia just because he has his hand on my leg in a parked car?” In the aftermath of my most recent heartbreak, which put an end to a two-year emotional roller coaster, I realized that all of my (extremely flawed) relationships so far had been driven by sex. With this revelation came a sudden sense of calm, the ticker tape of my self-censuring thoughts snipped mid-spin. “Oh, that’s what’s causing this pain,” I thought. “This is behavior I can change.”

I might have spared myself some heartache if I had taken at face value the Buddha’s warning in the Vipaka Sutta that breaking the precepts “leads to hell.” But I needed to have an experiential understanding of what sexual misconduct—and hell—meant for me. Without this, the precept would be a meaningless command that I would have little incentive to obey.

This doesn’t mean that my struggles with the precepts are over. Just the other day, I made out with someone I don’t much care for, caught up in the moment. Even though I had no interest in dating this guy, I found myself hoping he’d call me later. Fortunately, he didn’t—so I got to simply notice the unnecessary emotional energy the encounter had used up, and remind myself to continue trying to be more careful.

At a 1993 symposium with twenty-two Western Buddhist teachers, the Dalai Lama remarked that in a few rare cases it is acceptable for gurus to use sex to help their disciples achieve awakening—but the example he cited was of an ancient lama who was so highly realized he could also fly. Moreover, many people report that Trungpa Rinpoche often delivered crystal-clear dharma talks while intoxicated. Which is not to say that his drinking was unproblematic—just that all of us have different limits, and that we must each grapple with our own. The wonderful challenge of Buddhism is that it does not offer any absolute formulas for virtuousness. In the Silabatta Sutta, the Buddha asks Ananda if every precept and practice taught by the dharma is holy. Ananda replies, “Lord, that is not to be answered with a categorical answer.”

This article was originally published as a Tricycle Web Exclusive in 2008.

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