Suttas vs. Commentaries 2

There is a popular belief—a conceit no doubt originated by the authors of the Commentaries themselves, and fostered by their disciples — that the interpretations and authority of the Commentaries are derived from pakiṇṇakadesanā—some obscure passages scattered here and there in the Suttas, known only to deep scholars. Another questionable idea deeply rooted in the Sāsana is that the Sutta-Piṭaka is simply the external teaching — the Buddha preaching to ordinary people in conventional language — implying that the Suttas are not as deep as later works compiled by the scholars themselves.

But the truth is that the Commentaries are derivative, not more ‘advanced’ than the Suttas. Very often they are inconclusive regarding the meaning of deep Suttas. They often give several possible — even mutually contradictory — interpretations. Sometimes, overlooking the direct meaning, they go off on a speculative tangent. The Commentaries are silent on some of the most profound Suttas, as if they don’t know what to say about them.

The Buddha foretold the dangers that would befall the Sāsana in the future:

“In times to come, monks will lose interest in those deep Suttas that deal with transcendental matters; they will not listen to those Suttas having to do with emptiness, suññatā. They will not think it worthwhile learning or pondering over the meanings of those Suttas.” — Āṇi Sutta (SN 20.7)

The Buddha is not foreseeing some remote future: it has already happened. According to the Manorathapūraṇī commentary on the Aṅguttara-nikāya, there was a debate early in the Sri Lankan Sāsana between the scholar-monks and the meditators. The unfortunate conclusion was that merely communicating the words of the Suttas and Commentaries would be sufficient for the continuity of the Sāsana, and that direct realization of the practice is not so important. So the basket (piṭaka) of the Buddha’s words came to be passed on from generation to generation in the dark — that is, without the corresponding realization.

Certainly much was lost as a result of that misguided decision. In practice, this has resulted in the monks emphasizing the derivative Commentaries more than the original words of the Buddha. This is visible in the division in Sri Lanka between the ritualistic temple monks—who generally wear bright, almost day-glo colored robes—and the meditators who prefer more sober vestments. Even among the meditators, most are university-educated, trained to value the words of the Suttas over the realities and realizations they are supposed to represent. Thus the monks chant the Parittā-Suttas with great facility, but cannot explain them in terms of Nibbāna or suññatā—to say nothing of realizing them for themselves. If you ask, they reply that they are ‘too busy’ managing their temples to devote much time to meditation.

Also there is a tendency in the Commentaries to elaborate on and obfuscate even perfectly clear words in the Suttas, simply as display of exegetical skill. This led to many unnecessarily complicated ideas; thus the deeper meanings of the Dhamma got obscured. Actually the depth of the Dhamma can be seen only through its simplicity and clarity, just as one can see the bottom of a lake only when the water is calm and pellucid. Unnecessary elaborations and interpretative complications led to obscuration of the clear meaning, and the unfortunate result today is that few followers of the Buddha’s path are becoming enlightened.

Suttas versus Commentaries

Before we can approach the authentic experience of Nibbāna, we have to draw aside the curtain of monastic secrecy and discuss openly why there is such confusion and controversy about the meaning of Nibbāna. Not only do the various schools and branches of Buddhism disagree; but even within the Theravāda tradition, there is a great division over the meaning, approach to and realization of Nibbāna. It has become a great faux-pas in Buddhist circles even to hint that one has attained Nibbāna, or any of the transcendental states (jhāna) leading up to it. I think this is because no one is quite sure what Nibbāna is, let alone how to realize it—even though realizing Nibbāna is the purpose of the entire teaching of the Buddha.

Nibbāna is equated in the Suttas with the cessation of suffering:

“Formerly, Anuradha, and also now, I make known just suffering and the cessation of suffering.” — Anuradha Sutta (SN 22.86)

But if we inquire into the meaning of this Nibbāna, we find that it is not explicitly defined anywhere in the Suttas, but referred to indirectly by a set of epithets, epigrammatic phrases and euphemisms. The Buddha’s apophatic treatment of the aim and purpose of his teaching has led to the current confused situation, where scholars and schools argue over the nuances of Nibbāna without having experienced it.

Ultimately these problems boil down to the pre-conceptual, non-conceptual, para-conceptual or meta-conceptual nature of Nibbāna itself (pick your pet prefix; we will go with non-conceptual). We have to agree with Chinese Master Lao-Tsü that “Those who speak [about Tao or Nibbāna] do not know; those who know, do not speak.” However, although Nibbāna cannot be described directly, certainly something can be said about its nature and how to approach it by the Noble Eightfold Path. Once the path and goal are made clear, the intelligent reader can ascertain on his own the steps necessary to:

“…destroy the taints, live the holy life, do what has to be done, lay down the burden, reach the ultimate goal, destroy the fetters and become completely free, liberated through final knowledge.” (Algaduppama Sutta, MN 22) 

For the first centuries after the Buddha’s parinibbāna, the original words of the Buddha were passed on by oral recitation. The problems began when the Suttas were written down. Putting any knowledge into language, especially writing, often results in the conceit that knowing the words about something is equivalent to knowing it directly. Of course that is absurd, ludicrous — but the institution of modern university education is largely based on that very delusion.

An anecdote may help to illustrate this. Once I was playing a Bach Prelude for a friend in a side room at a social event. Another guest came in, and once I had finished, began to criticize my performance. After several points were advanced, I offered him my instrument and asked, “Can you do it better?” He shrank away, “I can’t play a note.”

Similarly in many ‘buddhist’ venues we encounter those who are eager to criticize, but cannot present anything superior in the way of explanation, practice or realization. However if we inquire, we often find that they are relying not on their own insight, but on the writings or interpretations of some popular teacher, or of the early scholastic monks who compiled Commentaries on the original Suttas.

Letter to a Tantra Student

So here’s the thing about keeping your word: it doesn’t matter how you feel when it’s time to keep your word. You just do it.

It’s so striking that the very first thing we studied back when we got together was integrity and keeping your word. And here we are, almost five years later and there is still an issue with keeping your word. I feel like, if you still haven’t got that together, then has there really been any progress in Being?

You’re very good at thinkingaboutness, very good with words, very good at saying yes yes yes without any discussion, without any cost-benefit analysis, until you get overwhelmed and it turns into such a big NO, it can be a year or more before I hear from you again.

I would like to treat you as an equal. For me, that means that I can count on you to keep your word. If we’re talking about something and you say ‘yes’ to it, that’s giving your word. “Hey, let’s go down to the studio and video an interview.” “OK.” “Here’s the questions.” “OK.” You just gave your word. Then we get to the studio and _______________.

You freeze up and flatline because of fear, because of uncertainty, because of inner conflict. You want to do it but you don’t want to do it. You go into thinkingaboutness when it’s time for action.

I think by now after observing your behavior for a long time, I can say with confidence that whenever you feel paralyzed, you need to take a stick, beat the crap out of your mind and just do it.

Do what you said you were going to do—no matter how you feel, no matter how scared you are, no matter what the consequences. Most of the time, even if you fuck up there won’t be any consequences. The consequences of doing nothing, however, can be severe.

Integrity is simply more important than anything else, because without integrity, without keeping your word, nothing else in your life will work. Everything will fail, just as you have experienced.

As long as they can see that you’re trying to keep your word, most people will give you the benefit of the doubt. But if you just freeze up and/or run away, after the first few times you won’t get any sympathy.

The same with playing victim. “School fucked me up.” How long ago was that? 20 years ago? And you made a big study of how school fucks people up, and why it was designed that way and so on. OK, but after 20 years you haven’t got it handled yet?

Nobody is going to be moved by that story. It’s anti-heroic. No wonder your credibility suffers. If you could come out and say, “School fucked me up but I handled it and got my shit together anyway,” AND you can demonstrate learning real skills independently, putting them into action with integrity, that’s a great story. Everybody loves a good comeback.

Like it’s great that you are teaching yourself music. I’m very happy to see how you took the little bit I was able to show you and made something of it. But would anyone want to be in a band with a guy who randomly doesn’t show for gigs? Uh, no.

Last night I met another local boy who wants to study Tantra. Or thinks he does, anyway. He has some romantic fantasy about meeting a perfect partner and living happily ever after. But am I that person? No. Do I want this kind of asymmetric, dependent relationship? Not really. So what if he is nice and slim, if he’s forever going to be an adolescent?

I want you here, sure I do. But I don’t want you here as an adolescent; I want you here as an adult, an equal, someone who I can count on. If I always have to second-guess whether you’re going to randomly freeze up and drop the ball, that would not be much fun.

If you are financially dependent it simply reinforces the dynamic of victim, adolescent, no responsibility, no control, can’t speak your mind, and you become a sycophantic yes-man, pleasant but untrustworthy. I don’t want that either.

I know that you already know about leadership and how to build a business that engages your skills, because I gave you that information. And I know that you have access to a program that can support you to gain more skills and refine the ones you have. So, are you taking advantage of this opportunity? If not, it makes you look lazy and insincere.

You think life is just floating by, there’s plenty of time, and everything’s gonna be OK? No, life is short; every moment is precious and breakdowns can happen anytime. There’s no ‘home free’, no winning the game forever. Life has its own purpose and we never know when the clock is running out. We never know when we will have to move on to the next chapter, the next embodiment. If there are outstanding issues, you have to pounce on them and solve them now, without delay. Because there are always more issues and always less time.

It’s nice to see you making progress in music and some other areas, but the integrity problem just throws cold water on the whole thing. You MUST solve that before I can, in good conscience, be close to you again. I can’t risk getting betrayed yet again. It would not be good for me and especially not for you. Think of what happened and is going to happen to those who betrayed me in the past.

So be careful. I am not the same person you knew last summer. I have changed since realizing Fourth Path. I am still myself, but much more so. Much less willing to compromise. I would rather be alone than compromise my principles and integrity. I am experienced, attractive and hot; I can find another Tantra partner. But if you come here as you are now, I could never recover the time I would lose trying to deal with your issues: stuff that you have the knowledge how to handle and should have handled years ago.

It’s your mind. Only you can confront and deal with this problem. I’ve done my best to advise you, but unless you take action and discipline your mind, nothing is going to change. You are going to have to demonstrate to me over time that you are sincere and meet my standards before I am willing to take the risk of further intimate association.

Your best friend,
Dev

Austerity Doesn’t Work

Austerity, as a strategy for enlightenment, doesn’t work. Of course it’s possible that it does work for some small subset of humans. But for me, and for almost everyone else, it fails. What’s the proof? After centuries of ‘religion’, of violent state-sponsored repressive crusades, almost everyone is still unenlightened. If austerity worked, it had plenty of time to show results. Yet we still live in a pre-human, pre-civilized society of aberration, exploitation and neglect.

In my case, my First and Fourth Path enlightenment experiences were directly connected with radical sexual Tantra practice. That’s sufficient proof for me. Tantra combined with energy cultivation and deep intensive therapy set me up for an oceanic, thoroughly mind-blowing First Path experience in 1984. A summer of teaching Tantra after living as a monk for three years, attaining Second and Third Paths while meditating in a forest monastery, prepared me for the deep consummation of Fourth Path. Continuing both meditation and Tantra practice since has given me a sublime life of continuous external and internal delight.

Religion comes from the Latin re + legere, meaning to tie back, to restrain. What is usually meant is to restrain the senses by following some system of discipline. But I see another meaning: a methodology intentionally used by state actors to restrain people in general from becoming too healthy, self-reliant, wealthy, powerful and enlightened.

Life, including consciousness, is energy. Energy is vibration, always in motion. Vibration in harmonic modes moves with less resistance than chaotic energy. To function at optimum, living beings’ chakras (energy centers) should be in harmonic relations with one another.

“Of one who does this, Mahanama, it is said: ‘Among those who are out of tune, the disciple of the Noble Ones dwells in tune; among those who are malicious, he dwells without malice; having attained the stream of Dhamma, he develops the recollection of the Sangha’.” — Mahanama Sutta (AN 11.12)

The Blessed One said: “There are these four qualities, TigerPaw, that lead to a lay person’s happiness and well-being in this life. Which four? Being consummate in initiative, being consummate in vigilance, admirable friendship, and maintaining one’s livelihood in tune.” — Dighajanu (Vyagghapajja) Sutta (AN 8.54)

“Those restrained by conscience
are rare —
those who go through life
always mindful.

Having reached the end
of suffering & stress,
they go through what is uneven
  evenly;
go through what is out-of-tune
  in tune.” — Hiri Sutta (SN 1.18)

“Train in acts of merit
that bring long-lasting bliss —
develop giving,
a life in tune,
a mind of good-will.

Developing these
three things
that bring about bliss,
the wise reappear
in a world of bliss
unalloyed.” — Itivutakka 56

So the Buddha reveals a direct link between ‘a life in tune’ and attainment of self-realization, which I find perfectly reasonable and practical. During his formative years, Gautama Siddhārtha was surrounded by the finest artists and teachers. He certainly received instruction in music, which in those days was a necessity of court life. So the Buddha was not using the term ‘in tune’ in the superficial sense of similarity or following, but in its deeper cosmic significance of harmonic vibration and sympathetic resonance.

We are happy when we are in tune: with Dhamma, with nature, with other people and with ourselves. Thus whether explicitly or not, all processes of self-realization bring the chakras into tune, into integral harmonic frequency relations. This is reflected in the art of conscious music as svara, or Just Intonation.

This harmony is attained and the full energy of the human being released when all aspects of human beingness are developed into a state of mutual harmony. If we develop one side at the expense of another we are out of tune, out of balance and our energy flow will be inhibited. Austerity can never lead to complete enlightenment, because it represses one or more of the chakras.

Non-conceptual Nibbāna

Just because we can concoct fancy explanations about Nibbāna doesn’t mean they’re true.

“This is peaceful, this is excellent: the stilling of all fabrications; the relinquishment of all assets; the destruction of craving; detachment, cessation, Nibbāna.” — Mahā-Mālunkya Sutta (MN 64)

This description of Nibbāna by the Buddha is a kammaṭṭhāna, one of the forty classic meditation subjects. It is a contemplation on the ultimate peace of Nibbāna, upasamānussati. This verse very succinctly expresses the theme of this work—for anyone who can understand this description of Nibbāna will be in a position to realize it directly.

We are told in Mahā-Parinibbāna Sutta (SN 6.15) that the Buddha’s teaching is svākkhāta—well-proclaimed; sandiṭṭhika—can be seen and realized here-and-now; akālika—timeless; ehipassika—inviting one to come and see for oneself; opanayika—leading one onwards to enlightenment; and paccattaṃ veditabbo viññūhi—the wise individual can understand it directly. The purpose of this work is to help you experience these six qualities of the Buddha-Dhamma here-and-now.

We should be clear that describing Nibbāna in words is categorically impossible. The ineffable can be experienced, but not explained; realized, but not articulated. Nevertheless, one can cognize the way to realization of non-conceptual phenomena by careful application of adequate terminology, and experience it by practice. Indeed, this is precisely the principle of operation of the Buddha’s teaching. Hopefully this counterintuitive idea will become clearer in the following posts.

Dependent Origination (paṭicca-samuppāda)

“When this is, this comes to be; with the arising of this, this arises; when this is not, this does not come to be, with the stopping of this, this is stopped.” — Vera Sutta (AN 10.92)

The 12 stages or formulas of paṭicca-samuppāda are specific applications of the principle of conditioned causality in the process of becoming. When applied to the phenomena of our daily experience, this principle enables us to wean our minds from the tendency to rest on the concepts of existence and non-existence. As a preliminary step towards this end, those two concepts are replaced by the two terms uppāda (arising) and vaya (decay), These latter enable us to view the two extremes rightly (sammā diṭṭhi) as they are suggestive of conditionality. In developing samatha and vipassanā (calm and insight), the mind is made to oscillate between these two concepts with ever-increasing momentum, spurred on by the three signata: anicca (transience), dukkha (suffering) and anattā (not-self).

At the peak of intensity in this oscillation, the extreme notions of existence and non-existence wane into insignificance since the mind now hardly rests on them. The three signata involved in the oscillation have by now built up a powerful motive force of detachment. So the mind gets weary (nibbidā)of the extremes, and decides to step out (nissarana) of the process. Hence he cuts off the thread of selfhood—already made slender in the jhāna of neither-perception-nor-non-perception (nevasaññānāsaññāyatana)—the thread by which his mind was oscillating under the artificial superstructure of concepts.

As he lets go selfhood, he touches the realm of cessation (so nirodhaṃ phusati — Poṭṭhapāda Sutta). Thus the distressful tension abates (dukkhūpasama), mental fabrications are allayed (saṃkhārūpasama), and the triple process of feeling and conceptualization subsides (papañcavūpasama). Along with the concepts of the extremes, that of a middle also disappears. In short all concepts lose their significance for him (papañcasaṃkhā-pahāna).

The relevance of the metaphor of the mental pendulum is clarified by the following passage of the Udāna dealing with the problem of Nibbāna:

“For him who clings, there is wavering, for him who clings not there is no wavering. Wavering not being, there is calm; calm being, there is no bending; bending not being, there is no coming and going; coming and going not being, there is no death and birth; death and birth not being, there is no ‘here’, no ‘yonder’, nor anything between the two. This indeed is the end of Ill.” — Catut­tha­nib­bā­na­paṭi­saṃ­yutta­ Sutta (Ud 8.4)

The word nissita (lit., resting on) is reminiscent of the Buddha’s sermon to Kaccāyana (Kaccāyanagotta Sutta, SN 12.15) on the two extremes. This being so, the rest of the passage accords well with the metaphor. To one who rests on the verbal dichotomy, there is mental unsteadiness or irritability. Hence to him who does not rest on it, there is no such irritability. The absence of irritability brings about tranquility of mind. The tranquil mind has no inclination towards conceptual distinctions of two extremes or of any middle position. This release from the bondage of concepts is itself nibbāna, enlightenment, the end of suffering.

On Being a Radical Tāntrikā

Today’s my birthday so I’m gonna cut loose a little and talk about my life and views. I was born into Tantra. My mother was a Tāntrik priestess who conceived me in a special Karezza ceremony. She practiced Tantra while I was in her womb. So I was treated to a very intimate experience of Tantra even before my birth.

Some people revile me because of being a natural Tāntrikā; others adore me. At 69 years of age, I have several lovers in their 20s and 30s. I must admit, after disrobing three months ago from being a Buddhist monk for three years, I kind of went all kid-in-a-candy-store there for awhile. I’ll cut down, I promise. Maybe I’ll only keep my three or four favorites.

From my point of view, most people are pretty tame and boring. When I was teaching Tantra publicly in Santa Cruz, California back in the 80s, I was surrounded by women who wanted more and better sex. I even sampled a few, but none of them were qualified or ready to learn the higher principles and advanced practices of Tantra.

So I wound up going to India for a long stint as a Vedic monk. I eventually worked my way up to guru, but found myself very unhappy. Even in that world, nobody was really doing the practices intensively, as they are meant to be done. Everything from chanting to prāṇāyama was done lukewarm. I was terribly bored.

When I chant, I go on six-month solo retreats in the jungle. When I do prāṇāyama, I can blow out a candle across the room. When I meditate, I spend three years sitting in a stone kuṭi I built in a monastery high in the mountains. When I have an orgasm, you have to make sure the windows are closed because I go long and loud.

The journey of the Path is long and arduous; who wants to be on parikrama forever? I wanted to arrive at the goal, and I did. After a life of sādhana, I’m satisfied that I have attained the goal I set out for. And actually far beyond.

I’m tired of my stories—of everybody’s stories. We can experience ecstasy now. And I know precisely how. If you approach me properly, you can have everything. Most who show up as students don’t want everything, they only want what they know. But I live in the unknown, the Unknowable, the realm of infinite possibility, the world of Tantra.

The way I see things, Tantra is the core of all spiritual Paths. Tāntrik principles of palingenesis, self-transformation and regeneration are at the heart of all religious and spiritual narratives. But those narratives, stories or myths only cover part of human beingness. Tantra covers it all, from sex to superconsciousness.

The functional energetic organization of the human being by chakras according to the law of the octave is the template for all Paths. It is not that we are to measure ourselves against the arbitrary and limiting rules and principles of some religion. But each religion should be measured by how well it nourishes and supports the human being as a whole.

Most religions and spiritual paths are sex-denying, meaning they adopt a negative or restrictive attitude toward the very source of their being. This is why sexual neurotics hate their parents and anyone who is whole. This is why families break up and move far apart. This is why people make war, become criminal and act sociopathic.

A person in denial of sexuality, the very source of becoming a human being, hates himself and by extension, everyone else. Venomously and enviously they declare, “How dare they get more pleasure than me!” Full of evil purpose, they go on to engineer some calamity for those they hate.

Others adulate and worship porn stars and players, but would never risk living on the heights of human experience themselves. The imitators dress like their idols but lack the energy for truly creative life, because they are also sexually repressed. And we see imitation of another quality on the spiritual path, where people play with yoga and meditation, play at being yogīs and monks but never make the concentrated effort required to realize enlightenment.

Does anybody actually get enough sex, enough good sex of their preferred flavor, enough to be able to say “No thank you darling, I’m satisfied”? Does anybody ever get enough knowledge and insight? Does anyone really think they can reach enlightenment without completely transforming their life, from sex to superconsciousness?

I do, I have and I did. Happy Birthday to me!

The Buddha Failed…

People tend to think that the Buddha ‘just knew’ everything, or was secretly enlightened from birth. But the Buddha failed, pivoted, and restarted development of his teaching at least 3 or 4 times, depending on how you keep score. Immediately after forming the intention to benefit all conditioned beings by teaching the Noble Path, he concluded;

“And what may be said to be subject to aging… illness… death… sorrow… defilement? Spouses & children… men & women slaves… goats & sheep… fowl & pigs… elephants, cattle, horses & mares… gold & silver are subject to aging… illness… death… sorrow… defilement. Subject to aging… illness… death… sorrow… defilement are these acquisitions, and one who is tied to them, infatuated with them, who has totally fallen for them, being subject to birth, seeks what is likewise subject to aging… illness… death… sorrow… defilement. This is ignoble search.”

So rejecting the household life, he went forth into the homeless life of a bhikkhu. That was the first pivot. Then he approached Alara Kalama:

“Having thus gone forth in search of what might be skillful, seeking the unexcelled state of sublime peace, I went to Alara Kalama and, on arrival, said to him: ‘Friend Kalama, I want to practice in this doctrine & discipline.’

“When this was said, he replied to me, ‘You may stay here, my friend. This doctrine is such that a wise person can soon enter & dwell in his own teacher’s knowledge, having realized it for himself through direct knowledge.’ It was not long before I quickly learned the doctrine. As far as mere lip-reciting & repetition, I could speak the words of knowledge, the words of the elders, and I could affirm that I knew & saw — I, along with others…

“‘The Dhamma I know is the Dhamma you know; the Dhamma you know is the Dhamma I know. As I am, so are you; as you are, so am I. Come friend, let us now lead this community together’.”

But the Buddha was not satisfied with Alara Kalama’s teaching and moved on to Uddaka Ramaputta. This was the second pivot.

“In search of what might be skillful, seeking the unexcelled state of sublime peace, I went to Uddaka Ramaputta and, on arrival, said to him: ‘Friend Uddaka, I want to practice in this doctrine & discipline.’

“When this was said, he replied to me, ‘You may stay here, my friend. This doctrine is such that a wise person can soon enter & dwell in his own teacher’s knowledge, having realized it for himself through direct knowledge.’

“It was not long before I quickly learned the doctrine. As far as mere lip-reciting & repetition, I could speak the words of knowledge, the words of the elders, and I could affirm that I knew & saw — I, along with others.

Finally the Buddha saw the limitations of Uddaka Ramaputta’s teaching and left him to perform severe austerities alone in the forest. This was the third pivot.

“In search of what might be skillful, seeking the unexcelled state of sublime peace, I wandered by stages in the Magadhan country and came to the military town of Uruvela. There I saw some delightful countryside, with an inspiring forest grove, a clear-flowing river with fine, delightful banks, and villages for alms-going on all sides. The thought occurred to me: ‘How delightful is this countryside, with its inspiring forest grove, clear-flowing river with fine, delightful banks, and villages for alms-going on all sides. This is just right for the exertion of a clansman intent on exertion.’ So I sat down right there, thinking, ‘This is just right for exertion’.”

But wracking austerities did not deliver the enlightenment the Buddha was seeking either. So, drawing on his childhood experiences of meditative pleasure in jhāna, he pivoted again:

“Then, monks, being subject myself to birth, seeing the drawbacks of birth, seeking the unborn, unexcelled rest from the yoke, Unbinding, I reached the unborn, unexcelled rest from the yoke: Unbinding. Being subject myself to aging… illness… death… sorrow… defilement, seeing the drawbacks of aging… illness… death… sorrow… defilement, seeking the aging-less, illness-less, deathless, sorrow-less, unexcelled rest from the yoke, Unbinding, I reached the aging-less, illness-less, deathless, sorrow-less, unexcelled rest from the yoke: Unbinding. Knowledge & vision arose in me: ‘Unprovoked is my release. This is the last birth. There is now no further becoming.’

“Then the thought occurred to me, ‘This Dhamma that I have attained is deep, hard to see, hard to realize, peaceful, refined, beyond the scope of conjecture, subtle, to-be-experienced by the wise. [3] But this generation delights in attachment, is excited by attachment, enjoys attachment. For a generation delighting in attachment, excited by attachment, enjoying attachment, this/that conditionality & dependent co-arising are hard to see. This state, too, is hard to see: the resolution of all fabrications, the relinquishment of all acquisitions, the ending of craving; dispassion; cessation; Unbinding. And if I were to teach the Dhamma and others would not understand me, that would be tiresome for me, troublesome for me.’

Then Brahmā appeared to him and begged him to teach for the welfare of the world. We could regard this as a sixth pivot:

Then, just as a strong man might extend his flexed arm or flex his extended arm, Brahma Sahampati disappeared from the Brahma-world and reappeared in front of me. Arranging his upper robe over one shoulder, he knelt down with his right knee on the ground, saluted me with his hands before his heart, and said to me: ‘Lord, let the Blessed One teach the Dhamma! Let the One-Well-Gone teach the Dhamma! There are beings with little dust in their eyes who are falling away because they do not hear the Dhamma. There will be those who will understand the Dhamma.’

“That is what Brahma Sahampati said. Having said that, he further said this:

‘In the past
there appeared among the Magadhans
an impure Dhamma
devised by the stained.

Throw open the door to the Deathless!
Let them hear the Dhamma
realized by the Stainless One!”” — All quotes from: Ariyapariyesana Sutta

So if even the Buddha himself had to pivot and reorient his search several times, then what about us? We know enough about innovation to understand that it rarely succeeds on the first try. Thomas Edison trying thousands of formulas for the incandescent light bulb comes to mind.

And developing something like a light bulb or other piece of technology is simple compared with attaining enlightenment. So if you fail, fall down, make mistakes, switch methods, switch teachers, switch ontologies, you are in good company: the Buddha himself also pivoted several times before attaining his goal.

I’m always suspicious when some monk’s bio reads that he found his teacher at an early age and stayed on for years or decades, finally becoming his successor. It’s too neat; it doesn’t sound like the way it really is; it sounds like they were set up, and he whole thing was planned out. Made men in the monastery.

When I was first starting out I sampled so many spiritual teachers available on the US West Coast, both eastern and western. Most I rejected immediately; it was clear they faking it. I kept those with a clear disciplic succession (paramparā) who were faithful to their roots.

I joined several traditional organizations, large and small, Christian, Hindu, Budhist and so on; took the initiations, ordinations and empowerments they offered, and hung around long enough to find out what was really going on.

Sad to say, most were just money-making and power schemes. That doesn’t mean there were no intelligent, truthful, pure-minded people with deep knowledge and profound practice. But they were very much in the minority. I made it my business to make friends with them and keep in touch over the years, as part of my valuable spiritual inheritance and fortune.

Nostalgia of the Infinite

Call it the unbearable lightness of being, existential angst, anomie, accidy, manic depression… Call it whatever you like. The mental suffering that universally afflicts sentient beings does have a cure, and that cure is self-realization by practicing meditation.

We think, say and do so many things that cause others and ourselves suffering. Why? Because we are not dealing skillfully with the nostalgia of the infinite. Instead of welcoming the Call to arouse persistence of effort to attain realization, we resist it.

We create so many unnatural phantoms of concepts and words for things that do not and cannot exist. We fight ourselves and others, struggling with conceptual ghosts in a saṃsāric nightmare of attachment and suffering. Then we beleaguer and assault others who believe in different artificial concepts or words.

Most of us live encaged in a prison of mind, with walls stronger than unobtainium. Nevertheless if we correctly and skillfully hold the nostalgia of the infinite, those prison walls can dissolve in a femtosecond. The mind can change so fast that even the Buddha could not find an appropriate simile to explain it.

Meditation begins from external methods like Tantra, QiGong and Haṭha-yoga, and proceeds to more and more subtle levels. The highest meditative jhānas discovered by the Buddha are superhumanly nonconceptual, leading directly to nibbāna and release.

When we truly enter meditation with deep concentration of mind, afterward there is another kind of nostalgia: the remembrance of having conjugated with the infinite. Those who have experienced samādhi will instantly know what I mean; those who have not, never can.

Human life differs from animal life most significantly in our creation and use of symbols. Perception, feelings, language and emotion are there in primitive form in the higher mammals; humans alone developed philosophy, writing and mathematics. Yet this wonderful semantic tool leads us into great suffering when we misuse it.

We create categories of meaning that resemble no actual phenomenon, have no equivalent in nature. Thus we live in a world of language and symbols instead of the real one. All meaning is based on the past, but reality exists in the present. The deep nostalgia of the infinite signifies that we have separated ourselves from nature, from reality, from sanity—and we desperately seek a way back.

Ordeal: Crucible of Transformation

We like persistence, or the illusion of it. Rousing us from the rut of habit and the sleep of ease to make serious changes requires a breakdown. This crisis is known as a crucible experience, after the fiery vessel in which metals are purified. Crucible experiences pop up in life when we least expect them. Suddenly we’re in trouble, uncertain, everything comes into question; or maybe there is great loss.

The effect these experiences have on us depends on how we deal with them. Attempting to resist the crucible, delay or cover it up just make it worse. Trying to soldier on becomes impossible. Something has to give, and it’s usually us. We’re forced to change.

If we expect breakdowns and crucibles, and accept them as a normal part of life, something wonderful can happen: the crucible becomes a means of positive change. It can lead to restructuring of our life and personality, leaving us stronger and wiser than before.

More proactively, we can deliberately seek out crucibles or even create them. Indian sādhus, Native American and Chinese warriors have long known that physical ordeals can build deep strength. They develop not only physical strength but also strength of will and purpose, and even strength of love.

Native American Sun Dance

Tantric ordeals draw from traditions and practices like Tantra, Quidoshka and Iron Shirt. The actual methods are confidential, since people without understanding and sensitivity would misunderstand them. The US Government outlawed the Navajo Sun Dance for decades, because it was part of a system of training that made their communities strong and their warriors very hard to kill. Even today, Tantrikas in India must practice in secret. Most QiGong Masters had to leave China due to government persecution.

But I was born from the womb of a Tantrik Priestess, and Tantra is in my blood. I carefully researched and when necessary, reconstructed the methods while living in native communities all over the world. A Tantrika deliberately creates a situation of crisis, a crucible, by careful application of intense physical sensations. We seek out or create situations where we are pushed to our limits and beyond.

Creation of a new being or way of life must be preceded by destruction of the old ways of being. There cannot be radical transformation without radical destruction. This ‘creative destruction’ is an accepted part of innovation in the marketplace. It is also a principle in life transformation or radical becoming.

We often mistakenly think we can embrace the new and still hold on to the old. But life doesn’t work that way. Life has no respect for our cherished patterns and conceits of identity and acquisition. Everything in nature is equally impermanent, equally not-self. Permanence is simply a word, a concept that is never observed in life. Beyond accepting impermanence and the crucibles that confront us, we actually create crucibles of change by embracing Tantric ordeals.