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Another view on
whether Tibetan
Buddhism is
working in the West
by Tara Carreon
A former American convert
to Tibetan Buddhism for over 20 years speaks her mind. Her viewpoint is
that, although American Tibetan Buddhists have made the decision to adopt
traditional Tibetan Buddhist beliefs because they seem authoritative and
reliable, this decision has been a mistake. First, she finds that Tibetans
themselves suffer from ethnocentrism and cultural arrogance that blinds
them to the virtues of Western culture and predisposes them to favor all things Tibetan. Second, she finds American students
far too willing to abandon the advantages of our intellectual training and
democratic culture of equality in favor of
medieval concepts still espoused by Tibetans due to their cultural
backwardness. The solution, this student says, is to abandon Tibetan
cultural belief systems, stripping Buddhism to its core values of
straightforward inquiry and insight into appearance and emptiness,
supplementing these values with Western virtues of optimism, creativity,
and the scientific method. Such a change in spiritual approach can lead to
real cause for optimism and freedom from outmoded notions that merely lead
to psychological subjugation.
MY EXPERIENCE
I'm writing this article from the viewpoint of having spent the last 26
years immersed in Buddhism, 22 of those in Tibetan Buddhism. For virtually
all of that time, I was extremely devout, did my practice compulsively, and
usually held monthly pujas in my home, to which
other students were publicly invited. I hosted scores of lama events,
helped raise many thousands of dollars, sewed clothes and cooked meals for
my teacher, typed transcripts of tapes, and even edited an entire book of
teachings. I traveled to India and Nepal. I
helped build a traditional four-story Tibetan temple in Ashland, Oregon,
one of the biggest and most authentic temples in the West. I received the
entire transmission of Nyingma teachings from
beginning to end, including the Dzogchen Trekchod and Togyal
teachings, and at the end, my teacher declared that I needed no further
teachings, and should simply practice what he had taught me.
My immersion in Tibetan Buddhism ultimately led to a psychological
stalemate between my impulse to be a perfect Buddhist and my inability to
see any truly "enlightened" developments in my psyche after these
many years of effort. Three years ago I began a radical reevaluation
of my relationship with the dharma, and those two other far more
troublesome "jewels," the lama and the sangha.
At some point, I began to feel that I had been duped, and began to unpack my
psychological baggage. I discovered that I was seething with resentment
over the years of self-abasement, and humiliated by the fact that I had
aided my captors. While this language, and some of the language that I use
in my essay below, may seem harsh or accusatory, I believe that I feel
about these things just as any other ordinary person would feel after the
years of effort turn out to have been invested for no good reason.
Additionally, the inner compulsion to perform ritualistic practices in
which I had lost faith, and the need to overcome the fear that abandoning
these practices would cause me to suffer terrible consequences, has made
for many painful days and nights. The process of self-deprogramming has
taken me to the edge of despair, and beyond. The truth is that one who
delivers their belief into the hands of others risks having to fight to get
it back. Having fought that fight, it is my desire to save other people
from wasting their time, energy and happiness in what I now view as a bad
investment in the realm of faith. I would suggest that sincere spiritual
seekers return to themselves and appreciate the good aspects of our own
Western culture in order to achieve spiritual satisfaction.
MY RESPONSE TO ALAN WALLACE'S RECENT
ARTICLE IN TRICYCLE MAGAZINE
I was inspired to write this article after I read an interview in Tricycle
Magazine the other day with Alan Wallace, entitled "Tibetan Buddhism
in the West: Is it Working?" The title excited me. Finally, I thought,
someone is going to reveal the trouble behind the scenes, and we can start
to get these things out into the open. Since I know and like Alan Wallace,
and admire him greatly as a translator, I was very interested to hear his
views.
Alan left too much
unspoken, to say the least. For Alan, it's apparently too delicate to
discuss. I can understand why Alan plays it safe, being a professor of
Tibetan studies and a recognized spokesperson for Tibetan Buddhism. He has
a reputation to cultivate. An academic and a translator, he receives a share
of the veneration that is paid to the lamas. On the downside, no one wants
to be an accused heretic, like Stephen Batchelor.
Like Alan, many Tibetan Buddhists are very careful about what they say.
Among those who know, the threat of "samaya
injury" from saying the wrong thing has a very chilling effect on
speech. More generally, it is no surprise that those on the path of
"secret mantra" enjoy playing at having secret information that
they are forbidden to disclose. Therefore, Tibetan Buddhists are unable to
get their problems into the open where they can examine them in the clear
light of day. As always, silence and secrecy breed ignorance and denial.
Alan blames Western
students for what I see as the Tibetan failure to adequately communicate
the teachings. Granted, Alan is simply repeating what he's been told, and I
do not believe he is distorting the message. Real insiders often hear from
Tibetan lamas how little they respect Westerners. Sometimes, it seems that
beating up on Westerners is one of the Tibetans' favorite
pastimes. However, the lamas rarely open themselves to criticism about
their own ways. They can even get testy if pressed. Most students don't
speak up unless they want to be called heretics, and shunned from their
communities forever. Only people who don't have a reputation or position to
protect can speak the truth. That virtually precludes people with vested
interests in the existing system from saying anything meaningful at all --
at least if it's critical thinking we value. The
"authorities" have, and will continue, to report only the
"official story."
The Dalai Lama [author's note: "whom I no longer have any respect for
whatsoever after reading Victor and Victoria Trimondi's
book, "The Shadow of the Dalai Lama" -- 11/13/04] says we should
have open dialogue, and hash out our differences. In response to the
question: "In your recent book 'Ethics for the New Millennium,' you
called for a 'spiritual' and then an 'ethical revolution. Are you willing
to emerge as a prophet?," the Dalai Lama replies:
"[T]oday, this is not the business of any
one individual. Everywhere there are all sorts of organizations that are
concerned with these things. Everyone has the same responsibility now -- I
think it's the democratic way. With increased awareness, with a stronger
sense of concern, every person must come forward and join together as one
body, each one cooperating with every other. There are some individuals --
some intellectuals, some religious persons and quite a few scientists --
who all have real awareness of the critical situation in the world. But one
problem is that they each just express their own view and then let a few
organizations carry the burden as best they can. Now, if we could more
often come together, discuss the problems in depth, make some appeals for
positive action or even offer stronger criticism of wrong actions, and even
tell the U.N. or some important governments -- then that's the way to have
some positive effect." Robert Thurman, Rolling Stone, May 24, 2001.
This is how we refine our viewpoint through free speech and debate. But
while free speech is the soul of democracy, it is very much against the
usual Tibetan party line of "shut up and put up." The Tibetans
have never known and fundamentally distrust democracy. At the Tibetan
temple where I invested 22 years, there were no "members." We
weren't allowed to vote on anything, or to elect our "leaders".
Theocratic by tradition, Tibetan lamas rule by
fiat. Even the Dalai Lama's speech is cautious and diplomatic.
At the start of the interview, Alan tells us what Tibetan lamas think about
Westerners. The lamas' complaint is so familiar it invokes a yawn:
Westerners in "a consumer society, a business-oriented society"
become "dilettantes ... dabbling in one flavor after another, without gaining proficiency in
anything." We're "impatient, superficial, and fickle" and
"in Tibetan society, fickleness is considered to be one of the worst
of vices." This description is more ethnocentric, and less compassionate,
than most students would expect of the Dalai Lama's fellow-clerics.
However, if you spend enough time with Tibetans, you'll learn they feel
quite superior. Tibetan lamas are comfortable sitting on thrones, eating
good food, and having people serve them. And it seems that many Western
Tibetan Buddhists are more than willing to intern as domestic servants and
handymen. Having come from a prosperous Western tradition that is in stark
contrast to the Tibetan lifestyle, Western students are willing to disavow
it all to become members of the enlightenment club. Or perhaps they have
been dying for an opportunity to serve, to work off their "White Man's
Burden" with a little self-abasement.
Alan continues to
faithfully communicate the sad fact that the "finest lamas" are
quite disgusted with us. "The finest lamas are now refusing even to
come to the West, because they figure they could be spending their time
either teaching Tibetans in Asia, or they
could simply go into retreat and meditate." The lamas believe that
"devoting time to people with such fickleness and so little faith is
time not very well spent." This is rather snitty.
Westerners are the only eager consumers of mystical practice, and even
minority Americans aren't attracted. (When was the last time you saw a
group of African-Americans at an empowerment?) Young Tibetans want jobs and
secular education, not trinkets and blessings. Alan's comment presumes that
the great lamas have "bigger fish to fry." The fact is, that due
to the financial support they have received from Westerners (and the
Taiwanese), they can afford to remain esconced in relative splendor
in Kathmandu and Bhutan.
Now let us take each of Alan's comments in turn.
First, to self-slander our
culture as merely a consumer and business-oriented society,
ignores the fact that our country is the most religiously tolerant nation
in the world. In cities across the nation, people from every faith live and
worship down the street from each other which would be impossible in their
respective countries of origin. The combination of government-protected
freedom of religion, plus tax incentives and an actual interest in
Buddhism, makes our country a place where Tibetans are quite eager to live.
They recognize that in addition to religious freedom, having a
refrigerator, a warm place to sleep, and clean water, have
spiritual as well as worldly advantages. While lamas often criticize the
"material" Western lifestyle, waxing eloquent about how their own
people live happily on little, due to their religious faith, most are eager
to secure residence, land, cars and temples. There is every
evidence that the lamas seek in America
exactly what they had in Tibet
-- wealth and leisure -- remembering always that according to a helpful
doctrine, seeking leisure to pursue the spiritual path is an unimpeachable
motivation.
The complaint that we shop
for Dharma is rather disingenuous. The lamas themselves turned the Dharma
into a traveling show, selling tickets to
empowerments with vague promises of spiritual benefit, revealing only after
the fact in empowerments, students take on weighty "samaya" commitments that obligate them to eternal
fealty to their initiators. This "bait and switch" method always
evokes a certain number of grumbles in the crowd of newbies,
but the eager smiles of older students are usually sufficient to overcome
most objection. After all, who can resist getting conked on the head with
religious objects by a wise old lama on a throne, while young acolytes
circulate holding incense and other magical items? And you get a knotted
red string to wear around your neck as a token of your commitment!
Increasingly, you pay hundreds of dollars for the privilege of attending an
empowerment, for which all are presumptively qualified, who have the
ability to pay. There is no question of qualification or readiness, or
spiritual sincerity. The students manning the door want to see real
dollars, not earnest entreaties. Possibly we should blame Americans for
this venality. Probably not. The teachers chose the teachings, the place
and the time. The students came, paid money, and listened. According to
Alan, however, they blundered. Somehow, the criticism seems unwarranted.
Tibetan lamas are equally
vulnerable to criticism on grounds of "fickleness." Tricycle has
reported enough about "competing tulkus,"
"the Shugden schism" and countless
other instances of petty clerical infighting to establish that if
fickleness is a vice, Tibetan clerics are ridden with it. Gossip is a
staple in Tibetan Buddhist circles. In our center,
we were always getting the word from the top about "Who's hot, and
who's not." The list of disgraced students and rival lamas grew over
time, until one day I found my own name added to the list. I think
"fickleness" usually occurs when two lamas vie for the attentions
of a single wealthy donor.
Alan suggests that if the
supply of sincere students dries up, the lamas will go away. I suspect that
those lamas who would leave have already departed. And what did they expect
from us, anyway? Did the lamas really expect students to learn Tibetan,
memorize rituals, join the clergy en masse, and build large temples
everywhere? If they want that type of performance they need to stick with
their own people. Do Christian missionaries pack up and leave when their prospective
converts don't learn all the hymns? Put simply, this is a harsh, judgmental
response that does too little to honor the
sincerity of students who often surrender family and livelihood to the
pursuit of Tibetan Buddhism. Does it seem compassionate to write off an
entire culture as fickle, and return to the mountain fastness to engage in
"more productive" contemplation? But Alan delivers this harsh
declaration without blinking. You can see that, by controlling entry and
status into the lofty world of lamas and their "entourages,"
Tibetans can induce Westerners like Alan to tacitly adopt their own
prejudice. You might start to think that one can get approval from Tibetans
by criticizing Westerners.
Make no mistake about it,
the lamas are sure they know best, and will likely not be impressed with
your own speculations or reflections about spirituality. In this regard,
Alan warns us that in seeking to ascertain spiritual truth, "one
extreme is ...
individualism."
Let's play that back again.
Would it sound different if I told you I was quoting Mao, or an Orwellian
Big Brother? Can an American be saying this? Individualism is the basis of
our Constitution, of all our civil rights and humanitarian values. Each
person's individual Buddha nature is the basis of dharma. Is individuality
not the beauty of our unique existence in this universe?
Why this paranoia about
independent thought? Is it really not possible for an individual to realize
the truth without a prescription? Buddha, presumably, was an individual,
who through the exercise of his own mind, found freedom. Yet Thinley Norbu criticizes
Americans for having "freedom habit." Must we choose between
Buddhism or freedom? Perhaps in some brand of
Buddhism, appropriate to a feudal system, peasants do not ask these
questions. Americans, however, would probably choose freedom, thereby
choosing, I believe, true dharma as well.
Alan denigrates our ability to think for ourselves, saying that with
respect to making spiritual decisions, we will always be like "a kid
going into a restaurant and saying, I'll just take what tastes good."
This metaphor implies that students are children who just want to eat
candy. But this assertion is illogical. We must trust ourselves to make
spiritual choices, else we could not even make the
first decision to rely upon the doctrine. Alan's view is that although we
were smart enough to select the Tibetans to be our teachers, now that we've
found our true "parents," the lamas, we will always and forever
be children. Thus we can never grow up, and must rely totally on the lamas.
Says Alan: "That's the core issue in Buddhism." I strongly
disagree. The core issue in Buddhism is not our ignorance, but rather our
intelligent, enlightened nature.
While on the subject of being treated like a child, I've often heard the
lamas say, "it's time to grow up." This is where they get you
coming and going. If you become a high-maintenance disciple, showing lots
of devotion, or having many questions, you're called a baby. If you think for
yourself, you're a deluded individualist. As in all double-bind situations,
the issue isn't whether we are children, but rather, whether the lamas
shall tell us who we are. Western students deserve dignity and respect, and
they do not receive it from the bulk of lamas. On the other hand, they
clearly have not demanded it.
The rest of Alan's interview is full of nice questions about whether
Buddhism is working in the West, and how we must make Buddhism work for
Westerners, but he gives no answers. So the whole interview basically boils
down to "No, Tibetan Buddhism isn't working, because Americans aren't
doing it very well." Well, that clearly is the official story.
WHY TIBETAN BUDDHISM ISN'T WORKING
Am I alone in saying there is a humongous culture clash between Tibetans
and Westerners? That's not so embarrassing, is it? So let me ask you
another question: Do we live in Tibet or in the West? And if we
live in the West, isn't it fair to ask Tibetans to understand our culture
somewhat before they criticize us extensively?
At the sound of these
words, I can see the true believers heading for the aisles, thinking,
"This is effrontery, this is sacrilege; I want nothing to do with
it." Which is not a good sign. Cultural
isolation crystallized Tibet
into a theocratic state of lettered tulkus ruling
over a vast illiterate peasantry, creating a culture so unified with its
religion that it lacks virtually all secular cultural expression. This
"union of Church and State" creates innumerable problems. Western
students, who are not serfs or shepherds, should not be dealt with in the
same way. Still, in your average Dharma center,
the lama's word (or his wife's word) is law. Questioning is disobedience,
and disagreement is heresy. If you think I'm exaggerating, I'll give you a
list of centers to visit.
Few of us took vows of
refuge with various lamas because we longed to chant in a foreign language
and bow before enthroned teachers. Those who did should have no complaints.
But most people were trying to find some inner peace and self-understanding.
If we're not getting that from involvement with the lamas, it isn't
sacrilege to say so, and return to our original spiritual concerns. We are
entitled to ask, "WHAT IS BUDDHISM?" After 22 years of being a
"Tibetan" Buddhist, I'm finding it hard to answer that question.
Actually, it would be hard for any Tibetan Buddhist to answer this
question. Tibetans have little need for the Buddha, who has been eclipsed
by Padmasambhava, the Karmapa,
or whatever tulku-dynasty is revered by the sect.
So Tibetan Buddhists know about as much about the Buddha as Mormons know
about Jesus Christ (not much).
If you learn Tibetan
Buddhism, you learn more about Tibet than about Buddha. As
long as we believe that the colourful and exciting Tibetan culture is Buddhism,
we will be unable to find true Buddhism. Tibetan Buddhism is not working
for us because we are unable to find its essence in the complex and
colourful Tibetan way of life. Tibetan symbols do not speak to us, nor do
we learn from reciting a sadhana in a foreign
language. (It took the Catholics until the 1960's to stop saying the Mass
in Latin, though, so this folly is equally the result of our own cultural
absurdity).
There's no question but
that, if you become a Tibetan Buddhist, you get a lot of stuff. You get a
red string tied around your neck right off the bat. You get sacred
practices, protector deities, mantras and visualizations. But what are we
surrendering? I would suggest we are surrendering something very valuable
-- our belief in objective, empirical reality, as revealed through
scientific knowledge. We take this belief for granted of course, because it
is second nature. But if you become a Tibetan Buddhist, this sense of
reality can begin to slip away, little by little, replaced by a patchwork
of myth, fantasy, and what passes for meditation.
From the viewpoint of an
educated American, Tibetan culture is anachronistic: young Tibetans are
dazzled and overwhelmed by our modern world. The older lamas are bemused by
our culture, and turn away from it too quickly to learn much about us. They
live, psychologically, on a flat earth, without the benefit of scientific
knowledge. Often their lectures are rather quaint, as they present
fallacious arguments to support the doctrine. Many are sweet, sincere, and
so hopelessly out of touch that Steven Segal managed to pass himself off as
a tulku. Can we seriously rely on teachings from
that culture?
The Tibetans themselves suffered greatly due to their blind faith in a
theocratic system that failed utterly to provide two essentials of
governance: (1) good foreign relations, and (2) a reliable military. As a
result, two million Tibetans have died due to Chinese aggression that has
gone basically unredressed by the international
community. Tibet
was unable to meet the challenge of the twentieth century. It had no
independent-thinking intelligencia. But for the
efforts of Heinrich Harrer to give the young
Dalai Lama an education about the world beyond the walls of the Potala, it is questionable whether Tibet could
have fielded even one political leader to explain its situation to the
world. None of this is to justify the murderous outrages of the Chinese,
whose conduct is so vile as to defy expression. However, Tibet's
political leaders owed their constituents a modicum of protection from
foreign aggression, at least through diplomatic avenues. Unfortunately, the
ingrown monastics of Tibet were unsuited to
international political life, and practiced the defence tactics of an
ostrich.
Due to what can only be seen as misguided confidence, Tibet's
inept leaders wielded political authority nonetheless, leading to a
cultural disaster. As the Dalai Lama explained in a recent interview with
Robert Thurman, the routine integration of the clergy in the secular
economic fabric damages society: "Some Tibetans also say that in the
past, the way of life was that the dharma almost served as a livelihood or
a routine profession. The Buddhist was not thinking of nirvana, not caring
for liberation, just how to make a living. Officials used it for their
lives, monks, nuns and lamas for their lives. Inside, in their inner world,
they were like ordinary people, lusting and hating. So the dharma became a
poison in this way. When there is too much focus on the Buddhist
institution, and the country goes to waste, that's what it means when
people say Buddhism ruined the country."
(Rolling Stone, May 24,
2001)
Now, in this country,
Tibetans are making a similar mistake. In Tibetan Buddhist dharma centers all over America, lamas give orders to a
tight hierarchy of appointed followers, who are often chosen for their
willingness to donate time, money, real estate and property. Students are
encouraged to adopt a medieval mind-set, and to abandon belief in their
ability to make their own decisions. Lamas advise on who
to marry, when to divorce, what jobs to take or quit. Many students request
"divinations" of future events, and even pay money to have monks
recite volleys of prayers to "eliminate obstacles."
What is difficult to
understand for those who haven't been immersed in Tibetan Buddhism for a
long time, is that this religion is obsessed with controlling outcomes by
the use of magical invocations. This religious model is most like the
Christian feudal religion of medieval Europe,
linked to a large agrarian serfdom. This religious model also carries with
it a powerful anti-logical seed: the belief that favorable
outcomes of desired events are controlled by the intercession of
supernatural powers.
The red robes, the chants,
the tormas, the deities, the colorful
temples, the instruments, the sadhanas, the codes
of conduct, the lamas, the teacher-disciple
relationship are products of Tibetan culture. These symbols were created by
Tibetans and likely can only be understood by Tibetans. We Westerners will
never be able to understand these things, or translate them into our
culture. Fire pujas, exorcisms, prayers to oath-bound protectors. These practices are
beautiful, but non-translatable. Period. We do not need to obtain
supernatural aid to make the crops grow and the lambs
fat. Reciting long lists of protector deities and invoking their aid does
not rank high on my list of contemplative activities. These practices are
not only unhelpful for most students; there is substantial evidence that
people can develop bizarre habits from long repetition of activities that
they do not understand, and are pursuing solely due to "faith"
that the practice will produce some magical benefit. The Dalai Lama
responded with unusual candor recently when
asked, "What prevents people from understanding [the essence of
Buddhism]?":
"When people think
it's all about doing tantric visualizations and rituals. When I talk about
the Buddhist dharma, I'm not talking about just chanting and rituals. If
it's thought to be a philosophy, it's not that, either. The dharma, it's
just the mind. I'm afraid that among the Tibetans, the Chinese and also
some Westerners -- the new Buddhists -- in many cases they consider the
practice of Buddhism is simply to recite something and perform some ritual,
putting false expectations on the esoteric magic of tantra:
'Oh, if I do this, I may get something amazing!' So they neglect the basic
instruments that actually transform our mind. These instruments are the
altruistic spirit of enlightenment [bodhicitta],
the transcendent attitude, renunciation, the realization of impermanence,
the wisdom of selflessness. People who think they have a magic gimmick
neglect these things. So their inner world, their inner reality, remains
very raw. Sadly, use of ritual can feed that neglect. Knowledge of
philosophy can also feed that. It's a great tragedy."
SEPARATING THE WHEAT FROM THE CHAFF
Most of us came to Tibetan Buddhism because it
seemed to be a reliable repository of ancient Buddhist wisdom. Along the way
we discovered it is actually a vast cultural tapestry with more of the
medieval than we originally expected. Assuming there is more here than
culture and folklore, can we separate the wheat
from the chaff? Can we find the core Buddhism in the midst of the Tibetan
glare? Core Buddhism can only be that which is indestructible and not based
on form, i.e., that which the Buddha taught that relates to the mind,
because only that is universal and (hopefully) can translate from culture
to culture. As the Dalai Lama said, "The dharma, it's just the
mind."
What did the Buddha teach
about the mind? I remember one thing from my studies, and that was first
and most importantly, that the Buddha abandoned established religious
practices, and looked at mind for himself. This seems like the
quintessential "individual" act. The Buddha apprehended the truth
of appearance and voidness and taught the Prajnaparamita mind teachings which state that there
are no inherently existing self, or objects, that form is emptiness and emptiness
is form. The story of the Buddha's life is a story about Indian society,
including injunctions to refrain from teaching to "blonde-haired
people," and the detailed rules of monastic conduct. These cultural
trappings are not worthy of special reverence. Buddha's acts of cultural
defiance are far more inspiring: his abandonment of kingship, his rejection
of existing doctrine, his transcendence of gurus and asceticism. His
self-reliance, in a word.
Like the Buddha, who called
everything into doubt, we too should question for our whole life. But the
lamas tell you not to follow the Buddha's example, telling you you're
arrogant to think that you are like him. They urge you to question for
about one minute, then insist that you make up
your mind to rely on the lama's authority and abandon questioning for the
rest of your life. As a practical matter, such questioning is as bad as
none at all.
As history unveils the
future of Tibetan Buddhism in this country, we are not going to see a
careful translation from Tibet to the West. Tibetan Buddhism is finished
for Westerners. Along with Japanese Buddhism, Thai Buddhism, Indian
Buddhism, and the rest.
We don't need lamas. We
don't need any authority figures. We don't need temples. We don't need a
lot of books. We don't need to give anyone money. We don't need someone
holding our hand. We have everything we need to realize our true nature
already inside us, because we have our minds and individuality. We need to
love ourselves, and trust ourselves.
OUR OWN SPIRITUAL INHERITANCE
We Westerners and especially we Americans have a hidden dharma
tradition to inspire us right here in our own culture. Our aspirations --
to save the planet, feed people, release wrongly imprisoned people, give
women the right to vote -- are wholesome. Our belief in principles of
equality, fairness, justice, and freedom of speech and belief are all
"Buddhist" principles without having that name. As a guide for
social governance, the U.S. Constitution is far superior to King Trisong Detsun's code, which
provided harsh punishment, even death, for those who violated Buddhist
rules. We have a very good understanding of what it means to be a
"bodhisattva," but we don't call it that. We call it being a
"humanitarian" or a "social activist." If we supplement
the core Buddhist teachings with these noble traditions, and unite
knowledge of the union of appearance and emptiness with the clear-eyed view
of the scientific method, we have a very adequate philosophy of positive
development. Once we agree that science provides a better explanation for
phenomena than superstitions involving supernatural forces, there is plenty
to agree on in this universe. Rather than cleaving to old ways, retaining
magical notions as doctrinal elements, a viable religious philosophy joins
with the current knowledge of the day to open a way to live creatively and
optimistically, thus providing concrete benefit to all.
Some of us might even find that our view of "enlightenment" must
embrace more than the Buddha is said to have taught, to encompass all of
the fruits of human knowledge, from astrophysics to nanotech, from the
genetic origins of life to the ecology of the planet. Medievalism, even of
the Buddhist sort, will not serve this quest for integration. Perhaps
"enlightenment" itself is evolving. Then again, maybe there's
something inherently wise about our "natural" and
"ordinary" mind. Someday, if we explore directly for ourselves,
we might even be able to take these "mind" teachings out of the
realm of philosophy, conjecture and fantasy, into the realm of reality. To
do that, we're going to have to work with our culture and knowledge, and
test these old ideas against scientific observations of mind. Contrary to
what the Tibetans think, that their doctrine has codified absolute and
immutable principles, I think rather that they can be improved and
developed. Maybe the Tibetans had a much lower expectation about everything
than do we Westerners, not only culturally speaking, but also spiritually
speaking, and we can do them one better.
We can be optimistic about
our ability to learn new things based upon new investigations. The Dalai
Lama has repeatedly observed that Western science may be able to help fill
in gaps in Tibetan Buddhist knowledge of the mind's nature, which however accurate, is fundamentally intuitive, subjective, and
unconfirmed by outer observations. Everything from Tibetan descriptions of
the states before and after death to the phases of meditative insights, are
fundamentally a compendium of traditional lore. Western science has just
begun to observe the physically confirmable evidences of mental activity
Biofeedback studies of Zen students actually provided fascinating
confirmation of the observable effects on brainwave function associated
with Zen meditation. In this way, empirical and intuitive knowledge can
support each other to establish a solid foundation for human
self-improvement, one that does not require vast investments of "faith."
TRADITIONAL TIBETAN FAITH-BUILDING EXERCISES MAY INHIBIT MEDITATIVE
EFFORTS
While faith in doctrinal pronouncements is
certainly the order of the day in semi-literate feudal cultures, it carries
little convincing force for people raised in a rational scientific culture.
We are far more likely to feel comfortable in a 747 than flying on a magic
carpet, even in the company of a Tibetan lama.
There is a fundamental need to rest easy in your beliefs, especially if you
are trying to meditate. Dropping conceptual thought is much more difficult
if you are uncomfortable with your assumptions about reality. Thus, making
a lot of medieval assumptions about reality, cause and effect, and the need
to propitiate the protector deities is not necessarily good preparation for
non-conceptual meditation of the sort universally practiced by virtually
all Buddhists. In this way, the Tibetan Buddhist emphasis on arcane rituals
can definitely set an aspiring meditator off
their stride, making meditative accomplishments seem all the more
difficult. It's like putting on a large weight pack before starting to
climb a mountain. Why do it? We will climb higher, and enjoy it more,
without this baggage.
Compounding the problem for
Westerners trying to develop faith in the Tibetan Buddhist philosophy is
the fact that the traditional faith-building exercises do not work for
Westerners. The standard prescription for developing faith is to
contemplate the virtues of the "lineage gurus" and to develop
devotion to one's own guru as the living embodiment of a lineage of wisdom
masters going back to Vajradhara, Padmasambhava, or Shakyamuni.
The usual practice, of reciting lineage prayers in Tibetan, is about as
faith-building as reading the "begats"
from Deuteronomy in the original Aramaic. Of course, if I had listened to
tales of Guru Rinpoche from the days of childhood
while eating tsampa around a yak-dung fire, the
effect would likely be otherwise.
Logically, it makes no
sense to attempt to invoke strong emotional feelings based on childhood
conditioning that does not exist. The heroes of my childhood were Abraham
Lincoln, Martin Luther King, and other Western culture heroes. No injection
of doctrine and myth is going to transfer that type of deep admiration to a
Tibetan historical figure, and the attempt to stimulate such emotions is
misguided. I can tell you from 22 years of personal experience that, no
matter how much Tibetan history you imbibe, and how earnestly you attempt
to give rise to the appropriate feelings of reverence and awe, the results
will be unsatisfying. You may refine your yearning and obsession to an
impressive degree, but nagging doubts will grow in tandem with your efforts
to suppress them. Ultimately, the purported "prerequisites" for
meditation will eclipse the view of non-duality altogether.
WHAT NEXT FOR THE TIBETAN CLERICS?
The Tibetans may need to humble themselves.
They've entered a new world about which they know nothing. While it's
fashionable to attend the chanting exhibitions of the Gyuto
"Tantric choir," and there is no doubt the cultural display of
old Tibet
is charming and beautiful, that culture is of the past. Besides nostalgic
yearning, Americans have no need to provide a cultural hothouse in which to
preserve a displaced theocratic culture. It will be humiliating for
Tibetans to continue to sell their traditions on stage for small change.
Better to move on. Old things are lost forever. And often times, this is
not a bad thing. Things die so that new things can be born. The Tibetans
can let new ideas be born in themselves. Why hold on to old ways that
aren't useful or relevant any longer? Indeed, young Tibetans are like young
people everywhere. They have no desire to follow the ways of a culture that
has left its roots in the distant soil of the Tibetan heartland,
particularly if they can actually move to the West. If their religion works
for them, great. If they can find adherents who also find value in Tibetan
Buddhism, their religion business may also prosper in the marketplace of
ideas. I think it likely, however, that Tibetan
Buddhism will survive only in stripped-down forms, once the cultish
fascination with arcane rituals has dissipated. The Tibetan clerics should
prepare for this development. While possibly not as devastating as the
failure of the dot.coms and the electricity
crisis is for California,
the effects will be felt as the West burns through yet another religious
fad.
DHARMA FOR THE WEST
Now that I am no longer a "Tibetan"
Buddhist, and have learned to think for myself, and am not hammered down by
negative views of myself and the universe, like
sin and samsara, etc., the World seems very
exciting to me in a way I never knew before. Human beings are marvelous creations, so very intelligent and creative.
I think there is tremendous hope all around us and ahead of us. Besides the
fact that the world and our minds spontaneously exist without our having labored to create them, which should be enough of a
miracle for anyone, there are reasons for optimism about the prospects for
a good life for humanity on earth. Slowly, we are all speaking the same
language. Since war often is the result of miscommunication, with fuller
communication among the nations, war could become obsolete. As war
decreases, resources are going to be freed up, which will enable us to
improve the lot of people and the planet. As we communicate with each other
about our similar needs, and global resource competition meets with a world
pool of intellectual capital, standards of living may equalize. Science is
allowing us to see the wonder of the universe and of our
selves in a way that has never happened before. Our visions are
expanding. Someday we'll be able to travel through the universe. And who
knows, maybe someday we'll even agree on what it means to meditate, and who
we are.
We can open ourselves to a world that will truly inspire us. We should be
careful about adopting a world view that equates the outer world with
ugliness and evil (samsara), and which urges
"retreat" into "meditation" as the only refuge from a
doomed existence. Quite simply, we shouldn't use Buddhism to become
depressed about the state of the world. We should believe we can make
things better for everyone and everything. If everyone can be a bit of an
activist, and do their part, I feel sure we can change the world to be a
better place for everyone. For me, that's Dharma.
I want to thank my husband,
Charles Carreon, who has traveled
the Buddhist path with me for almost as long as we have been married, which
is 27 years, for his enormous contribution to this article.
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