Tag Archives: Buddha

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strands

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I attended a talk the other day, given by a hospital Chaplain who spoke about weaving the threads of body and spirit together.  This, he said, is the role of the Chaplain.  It struck me that when we do this we are joining together what “man tore asunder.”  Descartes, Spinoza, and all those heavy hitters of mind-body dualities are well beyond my capacity to weave together in this thread of thought but it is giving me a hint of the challenges about to face me in writing the next section of my thesis.

As I plod through the sections on burnout and spiritual well being, I feel very much like that spider in the picture.  Strands of knotted thoughts secrete out the tips of my fingers sometimes gluing them to the computer keyboard as I frantically try to keep the unrelenting winds of work and other demands from tearing it all apart.  Practice is helping.  Just this one word, just this one sentence.  It helps too that the old habits of academic writing are still lurking around the edges of my awareness.  One day, one hour, one word, one moment – and slowly I’ve come to the end of the dreaded, mind-parching “literature review.”

However, I’ve actually learned some things, acquired some insights to the nature of burnout and the corrosive action of being in organizations that cannot live their mission statements or manifest their values.  That, it turns out, is the realization that precipitates the exhaustion and cynicism we associate with burnout.  Interesting, isn’t it?  An incongruence in values that leads to a physical depletion and the arising of the judgmental mind. And yet, for so long we’ve focused on the physical nature of “work-related” depletion, missing the crucial role of the heart/mind which says, “This, this is not right.”

Is this what faced Siddhartha?  Raised in a life sheltered from the reality of poverty, illness, and death, a royal corporation that enjoyed an ease not available to those outside the palace walls, how did he meet the incongruence between his unquestioned values and what he witnessed on that fateful ride outside?  Was his disillusion and release from the trance of privilege a manifestation of this clash of values?  Did he Occupy Kapilavastu?  Methinks he did – and more!

The mythology of his intense emotional reaction after seeing illness, aging, and death suggests he felt the weariness of unrelenting hedonism and the cynicism of the worth of the path he tread.  I think he felt the rift in a place beyond the simple mind/body fracture point but it would be years before he would experience it.  It was only after determined rejection of the body which brought him to the brink of death that he wove together the threads of body and spirit, heart and mind.  It would take years and many teachers before he would know deep in his being that the most dangerous gap is between his wisdom and his choices.

If the Buddha’s life is an exemplar of ours, there are questions raised from his direct experience of incongruence that are worth asking.  Is this where you are – this place where the threads have been torn from your fingers, spun but not anchored?  Is this where you see most vividly the vastness of the canyon between what you believe in and what you are living?   Is this where you can feel the futility of continuing to feed the delusion that your victimhood is your privilege?

What now?

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book review: Chopra’s Buddha

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Buddha – a story of enlightenment by Deepak Chopra

The Patheos Community invited me to read Deepak Chopra’s latest book, Buddha – a story of enlightenment, and share my thoughts on their newly setup Book Forum.  Unfortunately, I can log on but not contribute because there aren’t any “reply” buttons visible to me.  Fortunately, my fellow blogger Nate of Precious Metal is there so, if you manage to get in the group and if the Reply button is magically available for you, do consider his questions.

Having worked my way through the book, however, I think it’s worth making a comment or two here.  This may seem like a reprise of my caveat in Brad Warner’s “Sex and What I Want Zen To Be” book: Deepak Chopra is not an author I enjoy or read at all.  I’ve tried one of his books, an attempt at Arthurian fiction (The Return of Merlin), and swore off any more.  So, I was surprised by the readable start of the book.

Chopra begins with a well-crafted back story of Gautama’s childhood.  Suddhodana’s grief transformed to anger by the loss of Maya is displaced onto the child and the emotional neglect leads the young Gautama to find comfort in various parts of the palace.  All the elements of palace politics between Priest and Warrior castes are woven into a neat rationale for isolating the young prince.  Chopra then makes an interesting move in showing how this is doomed to failure.  He does this not through any mysterious encounters but through following the everyday playfulness of a young boy-child.  Gautama finds the truth of life, aging and death in the lives of soldier ants, dragonflies, and minnows.  These are not held up as any huge insights but simply left to percolate in the mind of a child where they are layered over with the usual distractions of puppy love and infatuations that handsome princes and winsome girls are prone to.  Life happens for Gautama when the adults are not looking.

Other characters who play a significant role are introduced simply.  Devadatta comes to the palace to toughen up the by-now Hamlet-like Gautama.  His sociopathy is glaring but very psychologically consistent with a child who knows he is nothing more than a pawn in a kingdom he will never possess.  Mara and Asita , at least initially, are crafted as the voices of a growing conscience in Gautama.  My favourite line comes from Krishna who appears to the starved Gautama prostrating himself in front of this vision of a blue-purple god.

“I have waited to meet you all my life,” (Gautama) murmured.  “I have abandoned everything for you.”

“I know,” Krishna said… “Now go home and don’t do anything so stupid again.”

Gautama doesn’t and forges on to his historic and mythical realization under the pipal tree.  Chopra slides into this enormous moment without much drama.  Gautama meets Mara who introduces him to Mara’s three daughters.  The verbal fencing between Gautama and “Desire,” “Lust,” and “Aversion” is a treat and the Prince Who No Longer Exists goes beyond.

Chopra would have done well to stop here.  His treatment of the various threads that wrap and traverse together in a complex life was admirable.  The writing was choppy in parts and the conclusions sometimes trite but mostly free of the New Age preaching Chopra is often (and rightfully) accused of channeling through his books.  Nevertheless, I particularly disliked the steal from Conan Doyle: “When all else fails, whatever else is left must be right.”  (Really?  Were we not to notice?)  I will give him credit however for putting together a decent and almost psychologically viable developmental history.

Then, I’m guessing, his editor called and likely said, “Deep, dear heart, we’re getting onto publication time and you’ve got to wind this baby up!”  I find many authors get caught in this 11th chapter dilemma.  So much to explore, so little time to prep for the book tour!  The last two chapters become a roller coaster of various myths of the Buddha’s life: the marauding elephant, the Turning of the Wheel, Angulimala (no, really!), Devadatta’s attempted coup, the war with Bimbisara, the reunion with Yashodhara and Rahula, Ananda and a hint of the future Socially Engaged Buddhists as the Buddha walks through the carnage of Devadatta’s war philosophizing about karmic connections.

Humanizing mythical figures is a dangerous game.  We have our pre-conceived notions of the myth and magic infused into these characters and we are not given to having these challenged by historical fact or psychological forensics.  Often these attempts sink, overburdened by trying to explain too much or be too clever.  Chopra hasn’t dodged the first bullet and was grazed by the second.  But he seems to have survived.

At the risk of blasphemy, Chopra’s attempt (at least the first chapter), along with two other treatments of the Buddha’s life, forms an interesting constellation.  Thich Nhat Hanh’s version, Old Path, White Clouds, weaves the origins of the sutras beautifully into the life this wandering mendicant painting a story of a growing community with all its joys and missteps.  Karen Armstrong’s Buddha is a more philosophically complex figure and definitely, hands-down, my favourite treatment of the Buddha’s life, despite the supra-human presentation of it.  Combining the three books, we actually have a decent insight to the life this amazing philosopher-king:  Chopra’s for the making of Buddha, Armstrong for the cultivation of Dharma, and Thich Nhat Hanh for Sangha building.

My recommendation: enjoy Chopra’s the first section: Siddhartha the Prince.  Go to the scholars for the rest.

(Edited 10 Oct 04 @ 1054: The book is divided into three sections: Siddhartha the Prince, Gautama the monk and Buddha)