Written on May 16, 2010 by Tom Stine
Buddhism has a problem, an unfortunate one, but such is life. And that problem is: there is no way to know for certain what the Buddha said. It is a problem with any spiritual teaching more than a thousand years old, or any history for that matter. It has to do with written texts and oral transmission.
The first written Buddhist texts are in the Pali language and are based upon 400 years of oral tradition. That means that whatever the Buddha said 2500 years ago was repeated generation after generation, from one man to the next, for four centuries. Even if the monks who recited the Dharma for 400 years didn’t add a single thing to the words they were taught, not a single new interpretation or correction or improvement, the chance for inaccuracy is huge. Remember playing telephone in elementary school?
When you consider that the Buddha’s followers were about as likely to be enlightened as Saint Peter was to have understood Jesus’ teachings (sorry, but Simon called Peter had no clue what Jesus was talking about!) then, well, the odds are really good that there are major errors. In other words, we have no real idea what the Buddha actually said. I can’t see any way around it.
It’s the Jesus problem. The earliest Christian texts were written about 40-60 years after Jesus’ death. We don’t have any of those. We have fragments of texts that were produced 300-400 years after the actual documents were supposedly written. And we don’t have all that was written in those early years, just the stuff that the early church wanted to keep plus a bit of other stuff. So, we have oral tradition problems, interpretation problems, etc. At least Theraveda Buddhism attempted to preserve the Buddha’s words, something that Christians didn’t even really try to do, except with sayings gospels like the Gospel of Thomas. (Note: contemporary Jesus scholarship is a fascinating subject, worthy of a bit of study. I strongly suggest Marcus Borg. Needless to say, what modern Jesus scholars have to say is not what you are likely to hear in most churches today.)
So, when I started reading Buddhism a bit a few years ago, I was like most people are: confused. My question was: how do I get to the words of the Buddha? And after a while, I knew the answer was the same one I had discovered years before with Jesus: you don’t. You can’t. We will quite likely never know what he really said. And the most likely reason is that his followers didn’t have the slightest idea what he meant by the things he said.
Think about it: the average follower of the Buddha was like most spiritual seekers today. He kinda, sorta, maybe had a sense of what the Master was saying, but he wasn’t so sure. If suddenly things got clear and he experienced some sense of awakening, would he then really care if the Buddha’s words got accurately transmitted to the next generation? Probably not. He might have gone on and done other things with his life, or he might have started teaching others using his words and thoughts.
No, unfortunately, the folks most likely to have been sticklers for repeating the Buddha’s words were quite likely not completely understanding everything he said but were hoping that the Master’s words would enlighten them some day. As time went on, not only did error creep into the transmission but so did interpretations and “improvements” and “he must have meant something else when he said that.”
I know, there is no way to prove such a thing, but it is pretty obvious that in many traditions other than Buddhism that the interpretations became more important than the original words. Just look at Christianity. Go to any modern church and count the number of times the minister quotes a passage from the New Testament that has something in it that Jesus supposedly said. Then compare that to the number of quoted passages from the Hebrew Bible and St. Paul. You will be astounded! St. Paul and the Prophets win by a landslide. Yes, I did this experiment personally years ago. I was shocked. They never, ever quote The Sermon on the Mount in fundamentalist Christian churches.
And so I have adopted a very dishonest method of “scholarship” when it comes to the Buddha and Jesus: I look for the common threads in them that fit with contemporary “enlightened guys” and keep that and discard the rest. As a matter of fact, that’s how I approach all spiritual literature. I only look for the common thread. I’m only really interested in what I find in common between Zen, Advaita, Buddhism, mystical Christianity, channeled material, etc. And then I compare it with my experience. The thread of commonality seems to be what matters and what helps with my personal experience always as the final arbiter.
I know, I would never make a good scholar. But good scholarship has nothing to do with awakening. At least, it hasn’t done me a damn bit of good.
So, for the most part, I much prefer to read enlightenment literature that was actually written down and transmitted fairly intact. There is so much rich, wonderful stuff from Zen and Advaita that I don’t have much need for the old Buddhist texts. I’d much rather read Nisargadatta Maharaj.
I know many people don’t care for Advaita, but I find the best spiritual writings in people who are labelled Advaita. Not that these writings necessarily came out of that school of thought, but their teachings are so similar to true Advaita that they are usually pigeon-holed there. That’s the story with Ramana Maharshi and Nisargadatta. And even Adyashanti.
I have to admit that most of what passes for Advaita these days is like Zen: pure crap. Both schools of thought get too hung up on the nothing part of awakening. That’s why Nisargadatta is so cool: in his talks, he made it clear that nondual (which is what Advaita means) means NON-DUAL, as in not 2. There isn’t nothingness or everything. There isn’t all and nothing. There’s just One. You look at it one way, and you find nothing. Absolutely nothing. And then you open your eyes, and you see a rich world of form. And the everything that you see is filled with the nothing that you see. And out of the nothing arises form. Form is emptiness, emptiness is form.
Now don’t get me wrong: there are some wonderful Buddhist texts to read. The Dhammapada is excellent, and whoever said those words knew up from down. But on the whole, I don’t have much time for all the -ism that arose around a quite awake guy who might have been called Siddhartha and we now know as The Buddha.
Written on August 30, 2009 by Tom Stine
Buddhism stands unique in the history of human thought in denying the existence of a Soul, Self or Atman. According to the teachings of the Buddha, the idea of self is an imaginary, false belief which has no corresponding reality, and it produces harmful thoughts of ‘me’ and ‘mine’, selfish desire, craving, attachment, hatred, ill-will, conceit, pride, egoism, and other defilements, impurities and problems. It is the source of all troubles in the world from personal conflicts to wars between nations. In short, to this false view can be traced all the evil in the world.
Written on March 20, 2008 by Tom Stine
In my last article, Desire, Part 1: The Agony of Lack, I discussed how desire often creates agony, primarily because, as I saw it at the time I originally wrote that article a year ago, desire comes from a place of feeling empty, of lacking, of feeling an emptiness that we want to fill. I would like to go much further in this article, and I will begin with a reader’s comment that got the ball rolling on the subject of desire. It sparked a mini-debate that spurred me into thinking more about it.
So, let me begin with my reader’s comment:
I notice that the Sedona Method, in its sidebar ad, promises that you will “have all that you desire” if you follow it.
I’d like to call your attention to a posting I got this morning from Tricycle’s Daily Dharma: “When we contemplate suffering, we find we are contemplating desire, because suffering and desire are the same thing.” So, in Buddhist teaching, this “coaching” will increase suffering.
Any remarks?
What Is a Desire?
First, let’s look at what desire is. A desire is a feeling. Although in spiritual discussions it seems to be a much more potent force, when you boil it down to its essence, it is merely an experience of thought or belief in the body, and in every day language, that is a feeling. It is a feeling no different from fear, anger or sadness. It is the sensations that we experience in our bodies that gives all feelings their power. They aren’t merely thoughts that run through our minds but strong sensations running through or chest, gut, arms, legs, back and other body parts.
So, given that a desire is a feeling, it is therefore an experience that we have. In and of itself, a desire is really no big deal. Just like fear or anger or sadness is really no big deal as long as it is simply an experience. Think about it: have you ever been at a movie, one where you’ve really gotten into the story, and then something happens to a character and you strongly feel something? The main character gets dumped by her boyfriend, or finds his long-lost love, and a huge up-welling of feeling arises, such as sadness or joy. And there you are, crying, or smiling with joy, or scared silly, all because you are experiencing a reaction to the character on the screen.
For our discussion, this reaction is no big deal, has no real import at all, because it is just a feeling, and when the movie is over, the feeling ends. So, the bottom line is simply that experiencing a feeling is in and of itself no big deal. And therefore, the same should be true of a desire.
Desires Seem Big in Our Lives
But when you and I experience a feeling in every day life, or in specific the feeling called desire, the result is often a big deal. Not only do we experience the feeling or desire, but we become wrapped-up in it and start to suffer from it. Why? Because the feeling or desire isn’t connected with some make believe character on the screen, but instead is about you and me. It is personal. In effect, we have identified ourselves with the desire, we make it not only our own but literally us. It becomes a focus for who and what we are.
And it is this identification that is at the core of the problem of desire, the one the Buddha and Buddhists for centuries have been pointing toward. Identification is what the Buddhists mean by attachment to a desire or things. We attach and they become who we are. And this false identity, this belief in a separate self, is the cause of suffering. As a Buddhist teacher said, summarizing the Buddha’s teachings, “No self, no problem.”
I suspect that many Buddhists, including some important writers and teachers over the years, have missed this distinction. They have focused on the desires themselves and have attempted to do away with them. But desires can and do arise, at least in those of us who have not had the final realization. As a matter of fact, we have no more control over desires arising than we have over any other thought or feeling. We have no control at all. It becomes apparent, after spending any amount of time struggling with desires themselves, that it is pointless to try to suppress them.
As a matter of fact, we have no more control over desires arising than we have over any other thought or feeling.
Desires arise less and less the more we remove our identity from them. The state of freedom of desire is an end state, a by-product of awakening. It is not a path to awakening. When we suppress or deny the desires that arise, we give them strength because we are in effect declaring them real, important, meaningful. The far better approach is to let them arise, allow them their 15 minutes of fame in our consciousness, and then move on. They are simply feelings, and they will rise and fade if allowed to do so.
The Sedona Method and Desires
So how does this relate to The Sedona Method? The Sedona Method is a technique that at its core allows feelings to arise and then naturally release or be let go. It is a process that makes this natural flow conscious. And it works. It acknowledges that feelings are just feelings, that desires are just desires. In they come, out they go.
If a desire is persistent, if it sticks around, the Sedona Method offers techniques for working with those desires so that they are satisfied by changes in our outer circumstances. For instance, if a desire arises to earn more money, and after a bit of releasing work that desire still persists, then it can be worked with in a way that is honoring of our experience. Instead of fighting, we follow the lead of these persistent desires (assuming, of course, that they aren’t destructive to ourselves and others, but that is a whole other topic).
Let’s face it, we have no idea where our desires are ultimately arising from, so who are we to say that we should not honor ones that are persistent? Maybe they are the divine knocking at our door, helping us to see areas of our lives that we have been suppressing or hiding from.
I’ve read instances of people who experienced a dramatic realization of the truth only after they got out of their spiritual beliefs and honored their persistent longings and desires. Some have gone out and found a romantic partner, some left the monastery and got a job, and others started exercising or even, horror of horrors, started eating meat! They honored the feelings arising in them, gave that energy its due, and allowed themselves to act upon them. And the result was a complete harmony with the Truth of their being, an awakening.
Some have gone out and found a romantic partner, some left the monastery and got a job, and others started exercising or even, horror of horrors, started eating meat!
Moreover, another result of working on desires with the Sedona Method is that they inevitably change over time. I will admit, when I first worked with the Method, and looked at my desires with regard to money, I was definitely in the “make a million dollars” camp. As time has gone on, I’ve seen through that desire to what lies underneath: a desire for security and safety, for freedom to do as I please in the world.
As I have worked with these desires, I’ve ended up finding the work I enjoy doing most in the world, I’ve become more productive and helpful, and I’ve benefitted financially. And more importantly, these desires have faded and given way to a great sense of peace and knowing that all is well.
Spirituality and Marketing
Okay, now that I’ve given what I hope is a reasonable answer to my reader’s question, I will share one final thought on the subject of The Sedona Method, as well as all spiritually oriented systems of personal growth. So, let’s talk about marketing.
Like many spiritual types, I have had my share of difficulties with marketing and spirituality. While I’m perfectly fine with shiny, hype filled ads for Coca-Cola, iPods and Porsches, I have in the past had a real problem with marketing of anything connected with spirituality. When I first encountered the Sedona Method, for instance, my first thought was “what utter bullshit!”
But something brought me back to it, and I eventually started using it, and as time went on, I was cured of my distaste. Sure, a cynic could point out that I was cured because I started making money from the Sedona Method, but in the beginning, that was definitely not the case. No, to be honest, I started making money from it after I let the distaste go. For just like everything else, I had developed a set of beliefs around spirituality, and feelings attached to those beliefs, that when honestly looked at and released, faded into the ether. I was reacting to nothing, and now I see no objection to saying, “The Sedona Method can help you financially, help you with your relationships, and help you have all that you desire.” Of course, I would say the same thing about Buddhism, believe it or not. Not very “Buddhist,” but true nonetheless.
I invite more comments on this topic. It is a good one, and I would be happy to read your thoughts and opinions.
Written on March 9, 2008 by Tom Stine
I heard a story a few years ago that perfectly illustrates most people’s experience with the spiritual journey and personal growth.
It seems a well known Tibetan Buddhist was speaking to a rather large gathering. He asked the audience at the beginning of his talk,
“Who among you feel strongly that you are on a spiritual path?
About half the crowd raised their hands. Rinpoche then said,
“Those of you who didn’t raise your hands should probably leave and not listen to my talk. If you are not on a spiritual path, don’t start now. It is way too hard and demanding, and you will often hate it.”
The audience was stunned. They came to hear a spiritual talk, something nice and warm and fuzzy to make them feel good. And here they were being told that many of them needed to leave. Then Rinpoche said,
“And those of you who raised your hands, you need to get a move on. If you have already started walking the path, you might as well finish.”
I love this story. Have not most, if not all, of us on the so-called spiritual path had our moments when we really hated this journey we started? If you remember the movie The Matrix, we at times have our moments like Cypher, when we wish we had told our personal Morpheus to “stick that red pill up his ass.” We have our moments when we wish that we were still stuck in the human muck of unconsciousness.
“If you’ve already started walking the path, you might as well finish.”
But once we start, well, “You might as well finish.” At times, it almost seems as if the universe is calling us to move forward, relentless urging us not to stop until we realize the truth of our being. Is not this the real essence of the spiritual journey? Is not this what it is all about? Fortunately, as we progress, we find that we simply cannot stop, nor do we want to stop. We find that our moments of anger at the path fades, until finally they are gone. Something shifts, and while we may at times be completely unconscious of who and what we are, the call that is ever present brings us back. We must continue and know the truth.
While we feel this drive to continue the journey, we eventually learn that, ultimately, the ego, the mind, the persona called “me,” whatever we wish to call this sense of separate identity, can do nothing to finally realize the truth. Realization comes from “the other side” as it were, it is revealed to us in its own way and its own time. However, it definitely seems to be the case that for the most part, a little bit of effort is often required. While sudden awakenings can and do occur, we usually must spend some time in preparation, in other words sitting, meditating, doing our practice, each and every day, for realization of the truth to occur.
So, my friends, let’s get moving. Let’s do what we know in our hearts we are called to do: spend a little time each day with the divine.
