Thursday 27 May 2021

Source Buddhism

Ajanta Cave 16 Sitting Buddha
I've been rereading The Heart of the Buddha's Teaching, the succinct little Thich Nhat Hanh book that amounts, so far as I'm concerned, to our Bible.

Non-Buddhists may be astonished to learn we lack one of those. Instead, we maintain a libraryful of sutras – pamphlet-sized documents that more or less quote the Buddha – along with three or four additional libraries of epistolary commentary. And we Zenners tend to bust even that down to the Heart Sutra (a short summary of the Buddha's insights), four koan anthologies, and, in Soto, Dogen's Shobogenzo. (Other schools swap that last out for their own founders' teachings.)

But for my money, Heart satisfies the hunger for a source of record, something to tell us in no uncertain terms what we're supposed to be doing here. Heart was the book that made me a monk, and the one I return to in moments of despair and confusion. And it never lets me down, though each time I find I've never read it before.

Among insights gained this time is TNH's reference to "Source Buddhism", one of three streams he sorts modern Buddhism into, by way of understanding the differing perspectives. The other two are Many-Schools Buddhism, notable for its didactic nature, and the Mahayana, which emphasises the responsibility of practitioners to their species and world (the famous "bodhisattva principle").

And though my own tradition – Zen – sits squarely in that last camp, I find I'm a bit of a Sourcer.

Quite a Sourcer, really.

Source Buddhists insist on the primacy of the Buddha's teaching over all other authorities. What he said, is Buddhism. Anything else… might not be.

I think this is an important fixation, because humans compulsively pile everything they like under the rubrics they've already adopted. If they're pacifists, they define even their most bellicose conduct as perfect pacifism. If they're conservatives, each innovation they make becomes the soul of conservatism. If they're feminists, their every impulse reflects pure disgust for sexism – highest of all, their purely sexist ones.

Nowhere is this fatal flaw more evident than in religion.

And in no religion is it more evident than in Zen.

So it's comforting to know that in my instinctive sourcery, I'm paddling an Original Stream – perhaps the original stream – of Buddhism.

Because the path of the Buddha isn't always the smoothest, but I do believe it's the most effectual.

And in case you're wondering: yes. My own meandering improvisations thereupon do constitute "original Buddhic teaching".

Seriously; have you ever met a human?


(Photo of the 6th century Teaching Buddha in Ajanta Cave 16 courtesy of Wikimedia Commons and a generous photographer.)

Wednesday 26 May 2021

WW: Worn-out chain


(Brought to you by decades of wind and salt in a marine environment.)

Appearing also on My Corner of the World.

Thursday 20 May 2021

Hermit Robe Chant


Don't walk in front of me;
I may not follow.

Don't walk behind me;
I may not lead.

In fact, just stay the hell away from me.


(With apologies to generations of Jewish summer camp kids.)



(Photo courtesy of Finn Norstrøm, Arkivverket, and Wikimedia Commons.)

Thursday 13 May 2021

Good Song: Sour Grapes


It's about time I shared a John Prine song.

The guy's catalogue is replete with complex, insightful meditations on the nature of life and suffering; incisive depictions of human reality with occasional flashes of enlightenment around the edges. And the self-mocking that signals that.

This one's a case in point. On the surface it's a straightforward portrait of the enlightened mindset, which I might boil down to "people are not the universe".

But hovering just beneath that is something else, that truly emerges into full sun in the last verse.

Considered in order, what you got here is a meditation on the nature of enlightenment practice. And a worthy memorial to my brother John, who died last year of the 2020 plague, and wrote this song when he was 14 years old.

Sour Grapes
by John Prine

I don't care if the sun don't shine
But it better or people will wonder
And I couldn't care less if it never stopped rainin'
'Cept the kids are afraid of the thunder

Say sour grapes
You can laugh and stare
Say sour grapes
But I don't care

I couldn't care less if I didn't have a friend
'Cept people would say I was crazy
And I wouldn't work 'cause I don't need money
But the same folks would say I was lazy

Say sour grapes
You can laugh and stare
Say sour grapes
But I don't care

I couldn't care less if she never came back
I was gonna leave her anyway
And all the good times that we shared
Don't mean a thing today

Say sour grapes
You can laugh and stare
Say sour grapes
But I don't care

Tuesday 11 May 2021

WW: Flower bed

(Yes, really. Monarch Sculpture Park, Thurston County, Washington.)

Appearing also on My Corner of the World.

Thursday 6 May 2021

Deep Thoughts

As the light changed from red to green to yellow and back to red again, I sat there thinking about life.

Was it nothing more than a bunch of honking and yelling?

Sometimes it seemed that way.

– Jack Handy


(Photo courtesy of 攝影師 and Wikimedia Commons.)