Remembrance

By coincidence, I was in London today attending another seminar. this being the first anniversary of the London bombings, there was a minutes silence at midday. The company holding the seminar were thoughtful enough to call a stop while everybody did whatever they thought appropriate during this minute. Many people went outside. What I felt appropriate for me was to find a quiet place to meditate. I offered the merits of my brief meditation to the families of those killed in the bombings.

What has particularly impressed me is the determination of the people of London not to turn this into the British 9/11. In other words, not to see themselves as victims. Many people taking it in their stride and simply getting on with their lives. Of course, the victims and their families and friends are a completely different matter, understandably, and that is why I offer them merit. I also offer merit to the Islamic community in this country who have offered almost universal condemnation at these actions and yet still suffer increased prejudice because of it.

Sculpture and Achalanatha

Last week I had occasion to venture into "The smoke" (London) for a technical seminar. The seminar was excellent and, for those interested in such things, was on Ajax. However, at least as interesting as the seminar itself is what stood inthe middle of Clerkenwell Green. This wonderful sculpture. It takes a little whiel to figure out what it's about. It quickly becomes obvious that it is harnessing varous forms of green energy, wind, solar and even rain. What wasn't immediately obvious to me was what it was doing with all this energy. That is, until I noticed the seats arranged round the central column of the structure. You sit in one of these seats and it plays music at you and shows you images on a series of small screens. It was quite a pleasant exxperience, once I got over the disconcerting feeling of being stared at by passers-by as I sat in the middle of this large sculpture.

Yesterday evening I went to the Priory for the festival of Achalanatha. This ferocious looking figure has his own altar in the Priory as well as in most o the OBC temples. He represent a number of things but mainly, for me, he represents a certain aspect of compassion. He traditionally sits to the left of the main altar while Avalokitesvara sits to the right. They both represent compassion. Avalokitesvara is seen to be pourng the waters of compassion on a troubled sea and he/she represents a reasonably straightforward view of compassion (He who hears the cries of the world). Achalanatha, on the other hand, is pictured chained to a rock amidst the fires of hell, wielding a sword and with a ferocious look on his face. He represents the determination to do what really needs to be done. Mainly this is the determination to continue training and that is certainly relevant for me but I feel it is in every aspect of life, not just sitting in meditation.

In some Tibetan traditions, someone who is training is often assigned a deity, maybe that represents some aspect of their training that they need to concentrate on. As far as I know, there is no equivalent in Zen. If there was, Achanatha would be my particular deity (or boddhisatva). He has come up time and time again through my years of training in many different situations. If you read my post below about fatherhood, you will see that this is yet another aspect of Achalanatha. To wake up and do what is right. On the face of it this sounds quite straightforward, but still, small voice that is ever present is easily drowned out by the thousand voices that tell you to do what seems to make your life comfortable or entertains a bored mind. However, asI say, it's always there and when I sit in meditation I can usually hear it. And the more I meditate the more I hear it in everyday life. I just need the determination of Achalanatha to sit still and hear the voice.

Well, it seems that I may be going to be a father. My wife is pregnant. We are keeping our fingers crossed but of course there is a moderately high risk of a miscarriage in these early months.

Anyway, we are delighted. We do want to have a baby and we had just started to try for one, not expecting it to happen so quickly, so we are both somewhat surprised.

This last weekend I went away on a 3 day retreat. The questions surrounding fatherhood obviously came up in a big way. The biggest issue for me is my own mortality. I am 42 years old, which is prrobably not that old to be a father by modern standards, but nevertheless makes me think about for how much of the childs life I am going to be around. Having just attended a memorial ceremony of someone who died of cancer at a relatively young age, I am very much aware that we have no real idea how long we are going to be around. For me as much as anyone this is an issue because I am diabetic. My life expectancy is therefore less than a completely healthy person.

This isn't really about fear of death. I have that as much as anyone. However, although I am afraid of death, in a lot of ways it hasn't mattered. We are all going to die at some point. You can't avoid the inevitable. What this is about is being responsible for the wellfare of another being in a very direct way. I want to be around to support my child as he or she grows up. What this is is (to use a cliche) a wake up call. None of us can prevent our own death. We can't even be sure of delaying it a little. What I, personally, can do though is to make sure I don't make things worse. That I look after myself to the best of my ability. In other words, I need to not cause any more suffering than need be to my child and also to myself.

We were in a shop the other day when the shop keeper was explaining to someone else in the shop (and bringing us in on the conversation) that parents have a duty to bring up their children and they should not expect something in return for performing that duty when the child grows up. I'm not sure I would use the word duty but I do agree with the sentiment behind what he was saying, and not just about bringing up children. Whatever we do in this existence that benefits other beings we should do simply because it is the right thing to do and not expect anything in return. Of course we're only human and I can see myself in 16 years time shouting at my teenager about how ungrateful they are and how could they do this terrible thing they have done. I hope that doesn't happen.

Having said all this, this is very much an exercise in letting go. All I can ever do is the best I can and there is no point in worrying about those things which are not within my control. The future is always uncertain. I don't know what kind of child we will have I just know that we will try our best to bring him or her up in the best way we know how. We shouldn't expect any more from ourselves.

I'm a Buddhist!

When I first did Jukai and officially declared myself to be a Buddhist, there was a great temptation to tell everyone I met. It was a really exciting thing for me! what didn't quite tally though was the differing reactions I got. They ranged from almost complete indifference to mild hostility to metaphysical interest. I still occasionally mention to someone that I am a Buddhist if the conversation should range in that direction but I am unlikely to go out of my way to let someone know.

What's more interesting in a way is not peoples reactions to this piece of news but more what I expect the reaction to be. Some part of me seems to think that Buddhism is somehow cool and maybe a little trendy for a religion. The more I talk to people the more I realise that this isn't the general perception but the belief is still there for some reason. It's not just that though. It's also that people will think I am a good person just because I am a Buddhist. Well, why should they? I don't think someone is a good person just because they are a Christian. I would have to talk to that person first and get some idea of what their value system is and how closely it agreed with mine before I form an opinion. And even then, it is just my own opinion of someone else and really not worth a great deal. After all, I don't know everything about that persons background or upbringing so I can't really know why that person holds those values. and why is my opinion of them more valid than theirs of themselves? Who can know someone better than they know themselves?

Then again, there are people who's reaction is that I am probably a good person because I practice Buddhism. That's really a double edged sword. At some point, I may do something which doesn't accord with their moral code and the reaction comes back "You're not a very good Buddhist, are you?". Well, of course I'm not. I'm just a human being trying to simply do my best and occasionally I make mistakes just as anyone else does. Being a Buddhist doesn't make me super-human and it doesn't mean I know any better than anyone else.

So what's the issue here? The problem is really my own expectation, my own ego. I want people to like me or to think I am a good person. I guess these things shouldn't matter really. It is better that I do what I feel is the right thing and not be overly influenced by the people around me. But I'm just a human being and these things do affect me whether I want them to or not. After all, I'm just a human being.

It's been a little while since I last posted and things have happened. I don't feel it is appropriate to apologise for my online silence. I post only when I feel the urge to do so. If I have nothing to say, why try and say something?

My birthday coincided with mothers day in the UK. It was also the day the clocks changed. The latter two mark one of my favourite times of year, the serious onset of spring. mothering Sunday having it's roots in fertility festivals.

On the same day (very busy day!) we celebrated Segaki at the Priory. I was lucky enough to be given the opportunity to precent at this festival, the first time I have precented this particular ceremony. It's not one of the easiest ceremonies to precent, partly consisting of loud and forceful chanting in Japanese as a prayer of protection.

With so many deaths recently it was also quite a poignant ceremony. It is called "The feeding of the hungry ghosts". I won't go into too much detail about the significance of this in case I get it wrong, but I'm sure there is plenty of information available through search engines. After the ceremony, we had the opportunity to ask questions. I had a rather ordinary question to ask about the names of the Buddhas displayed above the table during the ceremony. One of these Buddhas is said to be the Buddha of clinging. I hadn't heard of such a thing before. If there is a Buddha of clinging, the very act that proves such an obstacle in training, then this really does bring home the fact that Buddha nature is in absolutely everything.

I've resisted saying too much about death here because I feel I have already said enough, or at least experienced enough for a while. I don't want to try and ignore it as we tend to do so much in our culture but I think it is also appropriate at times to move on to other things. Both my wife and myself have been ill the last few days with a nasty 'flu type bug which means I haven't been able to enjoy the changing weather. I'm still not over it but I feel like I can venture outside a little today (unfortunately my wifes recovery is not so quick, please send her your best wishes). I will go out now and enjoy the season of rebirth. I hope anyone reading this is able to do the same.

In Gassho.

In memory of Clover

We lost another guinea pig last week. Clover had been ill with a whole variety of problems for over a year, so it didn't come as any great surprise. The medicine that had been keeping her alive aggravated one of her conditions to an extent where she just couldn't recover. She was a really affectionate guinea pig and will be greatly missed. She had also lost her two closest companions (Molly and Daisy) so I think she probably didn't have a lot to keep her going against the odds.

Strange thing is, I didn't feel anything when she died. Possibly because I had been expecting it for so long. We buried her in the back garden with the other pets we had lost recently and performed a small funeral ceremony. For some reason, I decided to sing a favourite scripture of mine, "Adoration of the Buddha's relics". It's a lovely, if complex, tune and is entirely appropriate for a funeral. That's when the tears started! I struggled through the whole scripture. My wife thought at first that the wavery bits in the singing were how it was supposed to sound. Anyway, we both agreed that we felt much better after the ceremony. There was something very appropriate about the whole thing.

It has been a few weeks since I last posted. This probably reflects what has been going on in real life. I feell like I have been asleep. Winter often gets to me but this year it didn't really kick in until the tail end. Not that I have felt particularly depressed, more like I was just lying dormant waiting for something. And now it's happened. Spring has started! OK, so it's still quite cold here, certainly colder than it normally is at this time of year, but there is more light and the sun has been shining a lot.

This weekend we will be having a Segaki ceremony at the Priory. Amongst other things, this is an appropriate time to remember those who died recently. There have been quite a few in the last few months and I welcome the opportunity to remember them.

Gingerpig

In the short time since I have started this blog, I have said very little about my wife other than providing a link to her own blog. I haven't made a conscious decision to omit her although there is a sort of a reason for not saying much about her.

Understand that I love my wife very much and our lives overlap considerably as you would expect with any married couple. The thing is that I intend this blog to be a record of my training, or at least that part of it that I want to make public. Gingerpig's blog is likewise a record of hers. And of course, part of that training is living with Gingerpig and with her practice.

We are both Buddhists but in different traditions. We have "compared notes" on numerous occasions and the fundamentals of our practice are very similar. I don't have any issue with the form of Buddhism that she practices and I don't see it as inferior or superior to my own. What I do see is that Soto Zen suits the kind of person I am and I'm sure that Gingerpigs practice suits her. We have both also been blessed to find the right teacher to suit us.

When we got married, we saw the wedding ceremony as a vow to train together. In fact, that is part of the wording of the ceremony itself. However, we also recognised that while we are training together, we can't walk the path for the other person. Nobody can do that as much as we may want to or try to. So we each practice in our own way and with the support of the other.

For this reason only, Gingerpig doesn't play as big a part in my blog as she does in my life. Maybe that will change, just as all things do, and our path of training will overlap more strongly in the future. In the meantime, I am grateful to her for being my wife, my friend and my companion.

In Gassho.