Techiepig's discourse on everything

Remembrance

2006-07-07T19:39:00.000+01:00

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

2006-07-06T09:54:00.000+01:00

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.

2006-06-27T11:53:00.000+01:00

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!

2006-04-07T15:22:00.000+01:00

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.

2006-04-01T10:44:00.000+01:00

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

2006-03-22T09:11:00.000Z

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

2006-03-08T20:53:00.000Z

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.

Moving Mountains and Baby Buddhas

2006-03-06T09:24:00.000Z

We were very lucky and greatly honoured to have Rev. Mugo, author of the wonderful "Moving Mountains" blog, attend our wedding last year. She has passed through these parts on several occasions in recent years and I find it a disconcertingly wonderful experience. To have her there at such a significant moment in my life is something which I will probably always be grateful to her for. And now she has given me a mention in her own blog! I'm quite stunned at her words but I will hopefully calm down a little. I've had a slow start to my blog and this may be the encouragement I need to really get it going.

I have been away for a few days. I haven't yet got into the habit of posting in my blog that I am going to be away. I will try to do so in the future. I was away with my wife on a yoga weekend for people with M.E. (or C.F.S. - chronic fatigue sydrome). I don't have M.E. myself but was more than happy to join in with the yoga. I need all the exercise I can get especially at this time of year when all I want to do is sit inside in the warm. M.E. is very much a physical condition. However, I am of the opinion that there is a psychological aspect to it. In fact, I think the mind plays a part on most overtly physical conditions, including my own - Diabetes. You can be given quite detailed instructions about how to handle your condition but unless you are in the right frame of mind you either aren't going to follow those instructions to some degree or they may not affect you in the intended way. People with M.E. don't generally have such clear instructions. There are a number of treatments and techniques for "curing" M.E. but there is nothing that the medical profession universally regards as reliable. This makes it extra difficult to actually know what's best to do if you have this condition. Everybody has a different opinion, so how can you penetrate the fog that comes with M.E. to make up your own mind about how best to act?

In connection with this, I have been reading a book of talks given by the founder of the OBC, Rev. Master Jiyu-Kennet. She died before I had any association with the OBC so I never had the honour of meeting her. However her words live on in many places and I have found them helpful on many occasions. The text I was reading was a rather advanced subject: the "All is one and all is different". I won't attempt to explain this as I really don't understand it myself, certainly not on an intellectual level and I doubt I have the concept clear at any other level. However, one thing she said struck a chord. I'm strongly paraphrasing here, so please forgive me if I have got hold of the wrong end of the stick. In the All Is One, you may see all beings as a golden Buddha. In the All is Different, people are what they appear to be. If you see a tramp, you could just see them as a dirty, smelly tramp and maybe be disgusted by that. This isnt very helpful to the tramp. In the all is one, you may see them as manifesting the Buddha. This again may not be helpful to a tramp because how can you help such a creature? If you see the tramp as both, as a Buddha and as a tramp, then you can begin to see what this person may need.

And what this person may need may not be obvious. It may not be the best thing to do to charge in and help someone without consideration. They may be very grateful to you but you aren't giving them the tools to cope with the situation when you aren't there. I'm also aware that that statement in itself is a bit wrong. To act compassionately, you need to simply do what you feel is the best thing to do without trying to fix things. Without expecting a particular outcome. In other words, living in the moment. As you may be able to tell, I'm struggling with these concepts somewhat and have been for some years. I think I just wanted to say that the image of seeing someone in their very human frailties as well as seeing them as a baby Buddha I find very helpful in this respect. It's not yet the answer for me but it seems to be pointing in the right direction.

Being there

2006-02-26T23:35:00.000Z

Yesterday was a festival day at the Priory. It was the Parinirvana festival, commemorating the Buddhas death. I attended the festival ceremony but just for a change didn't take an active part in it. It's quite a complicated ceremony with lots of candles being snuffed out and lights being turned off then them all being lit again, which requires a lot of coordination between various people in order to get the timing just right. These things are always fraught with difficulty. Anyone playing an active part in the ceremony can easily get the heebie jeebies. What if I do the wrong thing at the wrong time and spoil the whole thing? It really is quite unsettling. I've been through this kind of thing many times myself and made a not quite conscious effort to try and conquer my fear. In fact what happened was I made many, many mistakes in various festivals and ceremonies and gradually realised that it didn't all fall apart and it would somehow be OK anyway.

What really helps in these situations though is to simply key into something deeper. In other words, just be there. It doesn't mean that I'm not going to make a mistake. I still do this after a few years of taking part in ceremonies. It just means that when it does go wrong I just note what I did and carry on to the next bit instead of tripping myself up at that point and being completely off balance for the rest of the ceremony. When it works right (and it doesn't always) the whole thing just seems to flow. The more complicated ceremonies rarely go exactly to plan. Even if you discount thefact that this is a room full of human beings with human failings, inanimate objects do often take on a life of their own to throw extra confusion into the mix.

I suppose what I am saying is that it is possible to go through these ceremonies with a meditative mind. When we do so, these little problems are just dealt with when they arise without us buying into the whole confusion. Each ceremony has its particular significance, some of which rings true with me and some of which is probably completely lost on me but as well as this, there is something quite enjoyable about the whole thing when I manage to penetrate the fears that surround this kind of public performance. I don't know if this really counts as part of the devotional aspect that Rev. Mugo spoke about in her blog. I suspect this is something a little different but I think it has value all the same.

In memory of Daisy and Molly

2006-02-23T18:17:00.000Z

A few weeks ago one of our 8 guinea pigs died. Daisy had not had the best start in life. She was rescued by the RSPCA and was in such a state that they didn't know she had long hair. Her and her sister Clover came to us in the best of possible health thanks to the tender care of Chrissie who looks after guinea pigs for the RSPCA. We like to think they were happier here. They certainly seemed to be.

Daisy was initially distrustful of us and tended to bite, something rare in guinea pigs who are by nature gentle. She quickly grew to trust us though and got a reputation as our loudest pig, wheeking happily whenever she was picked up and stroked. Her bad start in life had cost her though and her health wasn't good for the last year. She still seemed quit happy. The end came suddenly when she had a stroke. She went downhill so quickly that she died on the way to the vets.

Molly was by far the liveliest of our guinea pigs. She was one of the first two my wife got. She was a real character. Always full of energy and enthusiasm which meant that she was often a complete pain! She was a favourite with many of the people who visited us to see the pigs. She developed a mysterious problem a month or so back which reslved itself into a bladder infection. Our brillliant vet operated on her and removed several bladder stones. However, it seems that her kidneys had become infected. It is a testament to her boundless energy and strength that she survived the operation and for a couple of weeks after. All kinds of medication had been tried but nothing seemed to halt her deterioration. She passed away quietly this afternoon, something of a relief as she had been in some pain of late.

Daisy and Molly both did their part in bringing some joy to our lives and they will be greatly missed. I trust that they will both have a better time of it in their next existence.

In Gassho to Molly and Daisy.

Now that I know everything...

2006-02-23T16:20:00.000Z

There is some part of my mind that likes to see myself as a clever person. It probably stems from school days when a teacher sent me to a psychiatrist to have me evaluated because I was doing very little in class and hardly ever did any homework. The psychiatrists evaluation was that I was actually quite intelligent. In fact, I was bored and didn't do the work because it didn't really stimulate me. For years I didn't really know how to work hard and I still have problems with it to this day.

This has given me an inflated opinion of my own intelligence. I have lots of knowledge stuffed in my head about a wide variety of things, most of it pretty useless. Much of it wouldn't even help me win a pub quiz! But what I have been thinking for some time is that I don't really know anything at all! I can regurgitate knowledge that other people have given me or I have read but I don't really have any way of being absolutely certain that one little bit of it is true!

Of course, it's useful to have such knowledge. I couldn't do my job without it. The thing is it doesn't make me in any way superior to someone who doesn't have such knowledge.

Modern science is built on a tree of knowledge. At the root is a few basic assumptions about the way the universe is. Above that are mathematics and pure sciences like physics and somewhere above those are the less easily defined sciences like psychology. The whole tree is also sprinkled with assumptions.

Most of these assumptions we assume are correct because they make sense. Einsteins theory of special relativity is based on two such assumptions. One of them makes sense, the other has been shown to be true by experiments. But those experiments aren't really absolute proof. You can show that the speed of light is the same in any frame of reference to a limited degree, but you can't really show it for all frames of reference. Do we know for sure that the same holds true on the other side of the universe?

I don't want to get too technical here. I'm just making a general point about the nature of knowledge. Of course, we believe most of these basic assumptions to be true because it is convenient to do so. If we didn't, there would be absolutely nothing to hold on to as basic truth. Would that be such a terrible thing? It would certainly not help us increase our knowledge about the world and universe around us. But is would be a form of letting go. We can assume that the assumptions are correct without believing them. This is a form of letting go.

One of the major criticisms levelled at religion by those of a scientific mind is that it is founded on belief in something that can't be proven. Well, the same is true of the whole of science. It is a belief system like any other. It is fundamental to human nature to believe things without proof. It is quite unsettling to let go of all that belief. There is an alternative and that is not to believe it but to trust it. Maybe that's what many scientists do. They don't believe the speed of light is always constant but they trust that it is.

If I accept that the basic assumptions I make about the world around me may not be true, I can still trust those assumptions to the point where I can see they are not true. It also means I can accept that I really don't know anything at all!

Bird watching

2006-02-20T15:51:00.000Z

Well, the excitement of this new thing has got the better of me, so here is my second post of the day.

On Mondays I often work at home. We have a small study that overlooks the back garden. Just over a week ago, I put out some food for the bird: some seeds on a bird table and a couple of high fat type things hanging in a tree to help them get through what remains of the winter. They've taken to it very well and I find it a brilliant distraction from work to look out of the window and see what's feeding at any particular moment. So far I have seen mobs of starlings, the occasional lone robin, a group of 3-4 collared doves, a wood pigeon or two, a few of the more common type pigeon (not sure what these are generally referred to as) and various coal tits and blue tits. Nothing rare as yet, but I'm only too happy to see whatever visitors we get.

Opening comments

2006-02-20T15:20:00.000Z

My first stab at a Blog. I hope to make it interesting, if not for other people at least for me. Here's a bit of background, some of which may be briefly mentioned in my profile.

Let's start with a list of the pigeonholes I could squeeze myself into:

I'm a Zen Buddhist who is associated with the Order of Buddhist Contemplatives. Throssel Hole Buddhist Abbey
is the primary centre for this tradition in the UK. However, my local centre for practice and a very important part of my life for about the last 5 years is here.
I practice Tai Chi with this group. I have been going for about a year and a half. I find it helps enormously with my well-being. It also has some meditative qualities which complement my Buddhist practice.
I am married to the lovely Gingerpig. We were married last year at the Priory mentioned above. If you really want to see some of our wedding photos, take a look here.
I am a software engineer working for a large networking equpment manufacturer. I develop in Java and C/C++ for anyone interested in that kind of thing.

I don't think I need to say a lot more right now as a Blog is necessarily all about the person creating it, so I will get plenty of opportunity to fill in the many gaps.