Back from Buddhaland

Poststructural Pub
1

Insight Meditation Society is in Barre, MA, a village about 22 miles from Worcester. It’s located in an old Jesuit Monastery that has been made over into a buddhist meditation center, the
place is huge and there are several hundred acres of woods behind it, and trails running through them. These people are online, if you search
on ‘Insight Meditation Society.’

The 9 day retreat was led by two nuns from the UK, brown robes, shaved heads, in their 50s. They looked like men but when the one who was teaching spoke she sounded rather like Emma Thompson, very English, soft, gentle, kind, intelligent. The other nun didn’t speak at all for several days; when she did she turned out to have a thick German accent. She was there, not to teach, but to assist–the monastic vows require that a nun cannot be in a room with a man without another nun present (even in a crowd).

There were about 100 retreatants. Because it was a retreat led by monastics we took monastic vows, which meant that we took no food after midday–much to my discomfort. Up at 5, lots of chanting, no talking, no eye contact, no reading or writing, no listening to music. We sat and then did walking meditation; about six days in it started to rain and didn’t stop.

It was very boring and very good, and I often thought I would leave, I was so miserable. I watched my breath and then, when my mind was concentrated, after about three days, began to explore the mind/body, just watching what was there, sensations, emotions, thoughts, arising and passing away.

On the fourth day a Thai meditation master arrived out of the blue and gave a talk in the evening. He was dressed in orange robes and around his middle was a girdle from which hung a huge cluster of tools, knives, heaven knows what. He sat on an armchair in the front of the meditation hall and spoke to us through a translator.

‘Your body isn’t yours, everything that arises is characterized by transience, unsatisfactoriness, and impersonality’ he said. Then he took questions.

After the second question, the monk (who was a small fellow, really), simply fell asleep, there in front of 100 people. After awhile he woke up and answered the question. Then he said: ‘Let’s stand up and experience the emptiness of the body.’ He stood up on his armchair and bounced
around. ‘This will help me stay awake.’ he said. ‘Feel how unstable your body is…’

Then he sat down. ‘There’s nobody in me anymore’ he said. ‘I’ve meditated for 28 years, I’ve discovered that everything inside me is impersonal. I don’t make choices anymore. They just take me places and I teach. At night the people go away and I just sit there till morning when they come back and ask more questions. I just do whatever comes up, like go to sleep. Now I’ve got to pee.’

So they took him off to the toilet. When he came back somebody asked: ‘Why do you have all that stuff around your waist?’ ‘It keeps me mindful,’ the monk answered. ‘It’s 30 kilos; I used to carry 60 kilos.’ He took out several universal tools from leather cases, a large hunting knife, etc.
‘He uses these things for exorcisms too; Thai meditation masters do that…’ the translator explained. ‘This guy can go on for days’ the translator continued. ‘He’s joyful, he doesn’t care any longer how his body feels. He lives in mindfulness, without aversion.’

The monk then made his thumb appear to crawl up his arm, like a caterpillar. I asked: ‘I’ve studied in Thailand and I know about selflessness. But I have dreams, I want to accomplish things, good and beautiful things, and I need to be deluded to do them. I don’t want to be a monk.’

‘Just do your duty with selflessness in your heart’ the monk said. ‘Don’t attach to the fruits of your labor.’

‘Nothing in it for me, then?’ I asked.

‘No.’

Then people asked about spirits and exorcisms and he answered lots of those questions.

Finally the monk started chanting, the most beautiful Buddhist chanting I’ve ever heard. Then his two apprentice monks, who had been filming all of this as it happened, went about and gave us all amulets, images of this guy. Then the three of them stood in a line at the front of the hall, chanting and grinning, and we passed in front of them and they sprayed us with water and dragged clusters of amulets over our heads as we passed. Then they danced out of the meditation hall, out of the center, into a van, and drove away. When I woke next morning I thought it had been a dream.

After that the nuns were a bit boring. Finally I stopped going to the hall and meditated in my room. When I left I had gone much less deep than I’ve gone in other retreats, but I was very free. There was much less of me, I was less neurotic, very much in the present, calm, content.

The nine days were boring, except for the monk, and there was much less pleasure in my life–but also there was much less suffering. And this kindly, calm, free fellow emerged. I can stay there, I suppose, if I meditate two hours a day, but that’s not likely. I’ll try to keep sitting one hour a day.

Buddhist practice seems daft until you do it for a long while, like a nine day retreat; then you become free and it’s worth it, though the process of getting free is pretty brutal. Being free of craving and aversion is good. Sometimes not wanting anything feels like having everything you’ve ever wanted. Then you go back into the world and lose it again, it ebbs away…till the next retreat.

Well, I’m glad I did it. May you be happy and peaceful. The greatest happiness is peace.

2

Interesting. I’m sorry that it ebbs away though.

3

Yeah, me too. Buddhist practice works–it makes you more serene,
more kind, and more calm. But it’s labor intensive and if you
don’t do it you simply get caught up in the world again,
off center.

But there is something in it that is very good, maybe the
best thing in human life. But to live that way it has to be
the center of your life, or close to it.

In Thailand I was meditating at a monastery in the forest.
After four days I had an interview with a nun.
I complained bitterly about my life.

She said: ‘It is the self. It is the self-cherishing I.
You must dissolve the bonds of the self. You must
dissolve the bonds of attachment. There is no other
way.’

Then I complained bitterly about all that I had lost.

She said: ‘It is impermanence.’

‘I know all about impermanence!’ I said vehemently.

‘Then why won’t you accept it?’

‘Because I’m afraid.’

‘Why?’ she said. ‘You have nothing to lose.
Not even this body is yours.’

That did it. I let go of my body and my mind, the
self dissolved, everything became fluid and I was
free.

I almost became a monk. But if I had done that
my career as a philosopher would have been over
forever. I had just got an academic job; there had been 200 applicants.
I would never get another, not if I just left it.

I just managed to physically force myself to get on the
airplane back to the states, and then it took months
to recreate Professor Stone.

I don’t know how to be a Buddhist (a real one, dedicated to
practice) and a professional philosopher both–and I will
not give up the latter. You cannot think all the time about
obscure things, so that you are obsessed with thinking
(which is what creative work takes) and do Buddhist practice too. I keep getting faced with this choice on these retreats.

What would I do with myself if I were enlightened? My wife is a philosopher,all of our friends are philosophers. I couldn’t
even do much good. I led a meditation group in St. Louis.
People just wanted to contact their spirit guide or learn
how to astral project…

4

“Before enlightenment, chop wood, carry water.”

“After enlightenment, chop wood, carry water.”

(Or do philosophy.)

The mind works by itself. The only difference between being enlightened and not being enlightened in this regard is, after enlightenment, you see that you aren’t the mind, and you let the mind go and do what it does without being so attached to it. But it will keep doing philosophy if that’s what it does.

(And thank you, very sincerely, for making me think about this. I wish you would make me think about this more of the time.)

Best wishes,
Jerry

5

Thank you, Jim, for telling us about your retreat experience. During the time you were there, I was thinking about you, wondering how you were doing. In my younger years I have been to a number of “spiritual” retreats. I remember one in which the men and women were sitting naked in a teepee, and I must admit, I couldn’t keep my mind on anything that was being said. Now, I sit in my room, do my practices, ring my little bell, and then get up and have a slice of pizza and a piece of dark chocolate. I don’t go by the book anymore. Does that mean that I am free?

6

The center of Buddhist meditation practice is minduflness.
Usually centered on the breath, on physical sensations,
on physical movements. The practitioner ‘dwells in
mindfulness’ as we did on the retreat. One is
present, one trusts in presence. When one drifts
off into thoughts or memories or… that takes you
away from the present you note ‘wandering’
and return to the breath.

Intense, concentrated, intellectual thought, so that you
forget you have a body, you walk about like a zombie,
oblivious to your surroundings, muttering to yourself,
dream about it, wake up in the night and write things
on your pillow case–is the opposite of this practice.
It’s living in a world of thought. It’s a little worse for
Budhist practice than is being a crack addict.

And why would an enlightened person do such a thing,
live this way? What would motivate something so
unnatural, except ambition? Maybe a genius could
do it without ego, but I’m no genius. I’m motivated
by a highly professionalized ego, that loves philosophy
a bit more than it loves itself, but most certainly loves
itself. Somewhere along the line, in the midst of research,
I forget myself and become absorbed in the problems,
but ambition gets me to that point. A mind has to be
driven to work that way, and enlightenment won’t
drive it.

Very little that I do intellectually is of benefit to humanity–
I don’t think a free individual, without ambition, who isn’t
a genius or profoundly talented, would drive himself
that way. He would be like that monk…

7

Maybe. Especially the part about the chocolate.

8

Jim, your questions raise some very key ideas. I would be willing to go into a discussion of them, item by item, but it would be lengthy. Also, I come from a different system of meditation practice, so some of the concepts might not map from one system to the other.

But I would definitely be willing to try, if you want me to.

Best wishes,
Jerry

9

Thanks. This thing is actually driving me a bit bats.
I went for a long walk after the monk left and tried
to sort it out. Of course real liberation is probably
beyond me anyhow, but every time I think I’m close
I become afraid I will lose my career.

The work I do is very hard, I have to devote myself to
it body and soul, it does the world little good, and I don’t
think an egoless individual would do it. The mind doesn’t
do it by itself. Every time I’ve become free there was
just emptiness–no interest whatsoever in learning German
and reading the Critique of Pure Reason, etc.

I’m trying to contact some Buddhist scholars trained in
philosophy to talk to them about this.

Suggestions welcome.

10

The monk said Do your duty and don’t attach to the
fruits. But it isn’t my duty to be a philosopher.
And the rest of the time a liberated person just
absorbs into emptiness. The monk sits there
until people ask him more questions.

There’s nobody there anymore. You rest in
Nibbana, the Deathless, the Unconditioned,
until a reason arises to absorb into conditions,
to have a personality again, and that reason
is generally compassion for humanity.

11

For me, the crux of the matter is the idea of an “egoless” individual.

I don’t believe such a person can exist.

However, I’m convinced that there is such a thing as developing a point of view from which ego is seen as no different from anything else in the phenomenal world, which is ever changing and insubstantial.

The ego goes on, even after enlightenment, but it no longer occupies the central place. The enlightened individual knows, “I am not this ego, just as I am not this body or this mind or these thoughts or this bank account or this job description. Those things, including the ego, are all illusory. They have no real existance, nor did they ever have any real existance, so why trouble myself about them?”

Being preoccupied with the idea that the ego must be slain is just as much an ego driven attachment as any other, in my opinion. It is true, something profound definitely must happen regarding the ego if such a thing as enlightenment is to be gained, but the ego’s annihilation isn’t the thing that has to happen, in my view.

Best wishes,
Jerry

12

I just had a wonderful idea, at least, it seems so to me. Jim and Jerry, maybe you should get together and make a product. Let me think. What about ice cream? Maybe that endevour would still your minds, and you wouldn’t have so many existential thoughts that philosphers spend their professional lives entertaining. You could call it Jim and Jerry’s Ice Cream. That would be unique, I think.

I don’t know what got into her, but our cat, Bluebell, jumped on our bed last night and meowed loudly. I woke up and realized that I didn’t know who I was.

13

There is term that I have heard, practicing the presence. I’m not sure how it applies to Eastern thought or your dilemna, but it is well worth sharing.

Many people turn to God when they are in trouble, or in need. Many want God to speak to them, like God does to Moses in the movie “The Ten Commandments.”

Practicing the presence, means to me, to find God in every day events, every day actions. It may be that proverbial chop wood, carry water. It may be washing the dishes, taking out the trash, or walking the dog. In my belief system God is everywhere present. However, each individual is free to acknowledge that presence or deny it. Practicing the presence means finding meaning in the most mundane tasks or the most amazing heroic acts.

You say your work does little good. By whose standards? If each act is done with service in mind, with a giving heart, then studying German to read some century old tome, can be just as mindful, just as meaningful as nine days on retreat, or washing dishes, or saving lives as a rescuer, or feeding the homeless at a shelter. It may not appear so to an external observer.

Walk the path each and every day, be present in each moment. Find that sweet spot in time, where it feels like whatever you are doing is effortless. I believe that exists for virtually all endeavors, whether it be studying, reading, learning languages, writing, playing music, playing sports. There are moments of clarity when time stands still, the ego is gone, and the output just flows forth from a wellspring beyond human comprehension. For some, those moments occur on a regular basis. I would imagine that nine days on retreat would make them come much easier for most.

14

What these folks are saying is of course true. You’re complaining that your “normal life” gives you too many opportunities to struggle against yourself? You’re too often reminded of how you forget yourself? Do you think you’ll find a better battlefield against your own inner blockages, lies, manipulations, and habits if you had a more “altruistic” job?

15

Welcome back, Jim.

I still have immense difficulty with a lot of the fundamental Buddhist concepts, despite the helpful contributions of people on C&F and in other places I’ve looked.

I guess my own ego is tied up in a kind of existential humanism wherein oneself is something one strives to define by the way one lives - or at least during the course of living. This learning of oneself as it develops seems to be a significant part of the point of existence.

I must be failing to get it - perhaps to interpret some of the terms correctly. The selflessness thing is still the barrier. I just can’t get my head around it. If one eliminates the self, what is the point to existence?

Less pleasure, but less suffering. Less of everything? Less of being alive?

“You become free”, “Then you go back into the world and lose it again, it ebbs away” … Again, the whole thing seems almost anti-life, anti-immersion-in-the-world.

There are obviously amazing insights, and possibly ‘benefits’ to be gained, and I really wish I could understand. I’d consider trying retreat in the hope of finally seeing what it is really about, but I have this feeling that if I were to go for it in my present, stubbornly refusing-to-understand frame of mind that I’d be wasting everyone’s time.

I’m sure the impressions I have are wrong, but I don’t know how to go about becoming receptive to those difficult concepts that are so alien to me.

Nevertheless, I am reading this thread with great interest.

I’m glad you seem to get so much out of your retreat - despite the conflicts.

16

If you were to disappear right now, how would existence change? Would its “point” change?

17

Not sure I expressed myself clearly, as the question seems not to address what I meant. One way or another I’m pretty dense today…

I wasn’t referring to objective, general existence as apparently experienced by others. That, I am sure, would not change significantly for my absence!

Nah, I mean if one eliminates the perceptions of self, connectedness and immersion in the world… if, as it seemed to me, some of what Jim described could be seen as a withdrawal from life, from sensation, from interaction, then is existence something to be particularly desired?

I’m still not expressing it clearly. I make it sound as if I have a negative view on this. That isn’t the case at all. I’m just trying to understand something that is hard to access from any of my personal reference points.

In fact, I’m beginning to wonder if it is possible to get there from here…

18

No expert, here, but I’ll take a stab at it: there is an idea in Buddhism that refers to a necessary inner condition in embarking upon Buddhist practice: “revulsion” is often how it gets translated into English, but “an urge to turn away”, as from the dross of the world, which includes conventional self-perception (but not life itself, mind you), is a better way to put it, I think. I also think this is often misunderstood. The goal of Buddhism isn’t about withdrawal. Retreats are not the norm, after all. Even in monastic life there is life to be lived, there is beauty to be seen, there is the distressing that will inevitably confront you, and there are others around you to interact with day-to-day whether in silence or not. Even a buddha is as likely as any of us to suffer, or not, when he or she undergoes illness or dies.

Rather than withdrawal, the general idea is more along the lines of letting go of grasping. That’s it in a nutshell. Doing that, one is actually more open to living, however one decides to go about it.

Buddhism in general speaks of desire, or grasping, as being the root of suffering in a broader sense. The common misconception, in my thinking, is that one must eliminate desire. I don’t believe this is possible, and it would make for a grey life indeed if it were. Desire and distraction arise, but they needn’t be clung to. Ideally the situation would be like water off a duck’s back, as it were, or a passing cloud that leaves no trace. But a withdrawal is a mistake, I think, and not the same thing.

Don’t know if that made any sense, but I hope it answered some questions.

19

Thanks to everybody for these helpful comments, which I’ve
just read.

Buddhu I think you understand this stuff better than you may
realize. Buddhism, at least the classical Buddhism that the
Buddha taught (as preserved in the Pali canon) is not a nice
religion. People who find it life-denying and repellant are close
to grasping what it’s about, IMO. Existence, for the Buddha,
is not to be desired.

The cause of suffering, he taught is craving–for three things–
pleasure, existence, and non-existence.

The craving for non-existence is the craving for escape, into
drugs, booze, the internet (which rescues me from this
rainy, dreary day in Providence). The craving for existence
is the craving that there will be some one who is me, somebody
good, strong, wise, noble, smart… About a billion thoughts
I had on this retreat were motivated by the craving for existence–
e.g. memories of my saying the right thing, memories of my
being wronged (I, the victim), on and on. For me the craving
for pleasure is often for intellectual pleasure. Also flute playing
is motivated largely by the craving for pleasure.

When all that craving stops, the ‘self-cherishing I’ dissolves.
Life is left but nobody who lives it. Those who see this as
death in life are a good deal closer to understanding it.
There are just mental and physical states arising and passing
away in a great empty space, there is nobody in it anywhere,
it’s impersonal through and through. There is still pleasure
and pain, but nobody experiences them, and where the
personality was there is simply emptiness and peace.
Also a great kindness for all sentient beings.

The Buddha taught that frees us from the round of rebirth,
the wheel of samsarra, in which we are broken again and
again by old age, sickness and death, the loss of those
we love.

The point of human existence is liberation; once liberated
there is no point, there is just what remains when the
self-cherishing I is dissolved–along with a great compassion
for the suffering in the world. It’s paradoxical, but the
Buddha spent most of his life bringing to people
he knew didn’t exist the liberating news that they never
were–he did this from compassion for them.

My wife did a 14 day retreat at Insight Meditation Society,
at the end of which she told me ‘I see there is no self, there’s
nobody in this mind and body. I don’t like it. I want to be
somebody.’ So she stopped practicing.

And I find enlightenment frightening–it is not the same thing
as happiness.

The only way to understand these things is to do a retreat.
The nuns were from Amaravati, in the UK; the head teacher
is Ajaahn Sumehdo. They lead retreats–Sumehdo is very
good. Because it’s monastic, the retreats are often free,
I believe. They’re online.

People think that being enlightened is like being how they
were before, but happier. It’s more like discovering that
the fellow who wanted to be happy never was. Where one
thought he was there is emptiness, and that emptiness
is one’s refuge. A first sign that one grasps the idea is
that one doesn’t like it.

‘Conditioned things arise and pass away.
Knowing this is the greatest happiness,
which is peace.’

20

It shouldn’t stop you from being happy if you like. How otherwise do we account for compassion, or the good-humored monk?

Then again, there are those touted as teachers who display the worst venality conceivable, and I know you have witnessed this first hand, Jim. How they get to such a position or state (whichever came first) is beyond me, but they are IMO offences. No amount of “you would have to be liberated to understand” litany can convince me otherwise. If a soul is liberated, he or she has skillful means, and this includes not messing up the lives of others or bewildering them. Compassion includes dealing with all at their respective levels, especially so if they are there for the sake of practice.

But then, I’m not enlightened.