How Our Family Connected to Buddhism by Sei-in

In 2006, we had the opportunity to pack up our life and travel in Southeast Asia for 6.5 months. When we left in late January, 2006, the kids were all very young. Kiran was only 11 months old, Alizeh was 3.5 and Darius seemed old at 6 years old.

When we left, we left as a family of five people with one person practicing Buddhism. By the time we returned, Buddhism was something we shared as a family.

Each of us came to Buddhism in our own way. My path led to Buddhism before we left. Mitra found her connection through some very strong nuns in Vietnam. In spending time with these nuns, she saw an example of well educated and powerful women practicing Zen (in stark contrast to what she had seen in Thailand).

Alizeh developed a relationship to Buddhism through visiting temples.
She really enjoyed the ritual of the temples. When I took her to a temple, she asked me what we did there. I explained that we respectfully watched what happened while the locals went through their rituals. She challenged me: "Those people are doing something. I want to do something, not just watch them do something!" And so Alizeh learned the local rituals and made offerings at many temples across Southeast Asia.

Darius visited some temples, but didn't connect as much to the form as Alizeh. For him, it just slowly became a more visible backdrop of his life. I would typically put the older two kids to bed. I would read them a story and then sit in the room with them to meditate while they went to sleep. We had a lot less space when we were traveling than we have at home. The result of this was that it pushed my meditation practice to be more visible for the kids. Soon they were asking what I was doing and asking if they could do it too. Seeing his Dad meditate on a daily basis was important in building Darius’ connection to Buddhism.

Now for Kiran, it was different. He was quite young for the whole trip. He was only 1.5 years old when we returned home. By this point, everyone else in the family had found some connection to Buddhism and Buddhism became the water that he was swimming in.

As I write this, it is almost three years after we arrived home from our trip. Buddhism has stayed with our family, while each person has developed a different relationship to it.

I continue practicing with the Victoria Zen Centre. Mitra’s focus has been on getting her Masters’ degree for the past three years. Buddhism and the community stay close to her heart, even if she has had little time to go out to the VZC. Darius likes having a Buddha statue in his room, when he is feeling scared at night. Alizeh leaves letters for Kwan Yin (a female Buddha) behind the Kwan Yin figure in her room. In the morning, she enjoys reading Kwan Yin’s replies. Kiran likes to light incense, meditate and do prostrations. As a family, we enjoy going to the VZC Sangha Sundays and Buddha’s Birthday Celebration each year.

THE MAKING OF A ZEN MONK

Victoria Zen Centre to hold Victoria's first Buddhist Ordination

Doshu Lars Rogers has a first-hand understanding of suffering and impermanence. In February 2002, he found himself in the intensive care unit of Vancouver General Hospital more dead than alive having been air lifted from his family’s homestead on Malcolm Island just off of Vancouver Island’s north coast. The diagnosis was acute leukemia, and the prognosis was not hopeful. Immediate chemotherapy left Rogers with no memory of the events that took place for about a month after his arrival at the hospital. In May of 2002, he was released from hospital for two weeks before a scheduled bone marrow transplant “to make some good memories with (his) family”. Upon his return to hospital he was subjected to intense chemotherapy and full-body radiation to ensure that all blood making cells in his body were thoroughly and totally dead. Following the bone marrow transplant, another month of isolation followed waiting for these new cells to take up residence deep within his bones and begin producing healthy blood.

Doshu has practiced Zen Buddhism since 1975-at times passively, and at times with great energy and zeal. Living remotely, his contact with any kind of Buddhist community was infrequent, but he maintained a personal practice and attended meditation retreats occasionally with Toronto Zen Centre, Zen Centres in Oregon and Washington States, and the Victoria Zen Centre. His life path had seen him educated at the University of Toronto in astronomy, travelling through Asia and Europe with his wife Soshin Ruth McMurchy, training and working in electronics and making a living as an entrepreneur in that field. Doshu and Soshin have two children together, and when Doshu became ill, the whole family moved to Victoria so that they could be there to support him, and each other. As he lay in the hospital wondering if he would make it to the next mealtime which Doshu describes as “a yellow-green goo that was pumped through my nose-tube and into my stomach”, a visiting friend asked him what he wanted to do when he got out of the hospital. Doshu had spent much of his time (when he was conscious and/or coherent) reviewing his life, coming to terms with his impending death, and letting go of any regrets of his life; but realized that he hadn’t seriously considered the possibility of recovery. The question he was asked provoked a heartfelt response that he says surprised him. “My family and Zen practice are my priorities.”

When Doshu was discharged from hospital in July of 2002, after the bone marrow transplant had “taken”, it was into the caring hands of his friends and family. As he slowly recovered, struggling through periodic and frightening infections, and dealing with the depression that often follows such severe illness, he gradually began to regain his strength. His resolve and commitment to his priorities also grew stronger. Eventually he overcame concerns about his physical fragility and emotional instability and reconnected with the Victoria Zen Centre. Knowing that Zen Buddhist practice can be demanding physically, mentally, and emotionally, Doshu expected a rough ride but says he was very kindly and gently received by the Zen Centre community and it’s teacher Ven. Eshu Martin. “In hospital I started to experience life more as a gift than a given - connecting with Ven. Eshu and the loving community he inspires has allowed me to grow toward a life based on practice and giving, to face my fears and to uncover the life I have longed for but never before managed to create”, says Rogers.

“Doshu’s commitment to his family, to his community, and to Zen practice raises the bar for everyone that comes into contact with him”, says Martin, who also acts as the Buddhist Chaplain for the University of Victoria’s Interfaith Services. “As the Zen Centre has grown and developed, Doshu has been involved in every aspect, and provides a joyous, humble, and compassionate example for all of us to follow.”

Doshu’s increasing involvement and commitment has led to his completion of a program of training and education at the Victoria Zen Centre that will see him ordained a Zen Monk at the University of Victoria’s Interfaith Chapel on at 10am on July 19, 2009 as a part of the Zen Centre’s semi-annual commitment ceremony. The first event of its kind to be held in Victoria, it promises to be a deeply powerful and moving event for everyone present, and will deeply impact Doshu, his family, and the Buddhist community of Vancouver Island. For more information, please contact the Victoria Zen Centre office@zenwest.ca 250-642-7936.

The Victoria Zen Centre is a federally registered charity that was formed in 1980. For more information please visit the website at www.zenwest.ca

"If he discovers religion, he will become a TV evangelist!" by Sei-in

I grew up in a family without any formal religion. My mother was certainly a spiritual person, but we didn't belong to any religious group. I think that mom was skeptical of any organized religion. Dad wasn't spiritual at all. What spirituality came to us as kids, came from my mom.

So, I wasn't really exposed to any organized religion growing up, even though I was exposed to spirituality. I had only been to 2 church services in my life (not including weddings or funerals) before I started practicing Buddhism.

When I was a kid, my folks took this picture of me in my grandparent’s backyard in California. I am dressed in a corduroy suit (all the rage back then!) with a stern look on my face and my hands clasped in front of me. The photo became a defining part of our family's story. The story went like this: "In this photo, Eric looks like either a preacher or a gangster. We don't want him to be a gangster and if he gets into religion he will be insufferable. He will be like a TV evangelist. So Eric should never get into the mob or organized religion."

This story went on for years. I guess the photo was taken when I was 4 or so and the story was part of our family until I got involved with Buddhism and didn't become a TV evangelist.

Any time I would express interest in religion the story would come out: "well, you know what mom always said about you and religion..."

Fast forward to 2004… by this time, my mother had passed away, Mitra and I were married with 2 kids and I was very involved with the company that I had co-founded, PureEdge. I came home one hot day. I thought that something may be up as soon as my mother-in-law told me that she would look after the kids, while I should go upstairs to chat with Mitra.

I went up to our bedroom and Mitra told me to sit down. I sat down and Mitra told me that she was pregnant with our third child. This was not the plan! We had a boy and a girl. We were done. Or so I thought. The idea of another child scared me.

Mitra and I saw a counselor together who helped us to take a broader perspective on the child. She asked us to think about ourselves in the future and what we would tell ourselves to do now. The answer was clear to me - the future me would tell the present me to have the child. Yes, it would be hard, but it would be worth it. I would live to regret it if we didn't have the child (I have to add that I am very thankful for this advice. It was just what I needed. Also, I am very thankful to have Kiran in my life).

I could clearly see that I wanted to have the child, but I was still scared. In the moments between sleeping and waking, I would feel this horrible fear sitting on my chest.

I went to see a different counselor whom I had seen previously about my mother's death and various work-related stresses. She said that she thought that my fear was not to do with having a third child, but to do with something greater. The pregnancy was just the "straw that broke the camels back".

We talked about how I could figure out what the greater issue was. She mentioned a variety of approaches to figure it out. She mentioned hypnosis and I knew that was what I wanted to try. Further, I wanted to be hypnotized in my painting studio at home (otherwise known as my garage), instead of in her office.

The next Saturday I found myself in my art studio, settled in comfortably on a chair next to my counselor. She led me to relax and go to a safe place within myself. There I was greeted by two visitors - two parts of myself that needed expression. One was a child of me and the other was an older figure. It was kind of like a dream. At one point, this figure put his hands on my shoulders and looked at me. In a voice that you would use to talk to a child who just isn't listening, he said, "Find a teacher." His voice was frustrated as if he had said this to me a thousand times and if I would only listen, I would be so much happier.

I returned to my normal state, guided out of the hypnosis by my counselor. I knew that I needed to find a religious teacher. I felt that while I felt deeply spiritual, I needed to be involved with some group. It occurred to me for the first time that the spiritual struggles that I had were not unique to me. Many other people had gone through these before. I could either re-invent the wheel while repeating the mistakes of others or I could learn from them. I could learn from their mistakes and once I learned their path, I could then forget it.

I felt like my approach to spirituality had been one of forgetting all of the rules to have a direct experience with spirituality. However, I had never learned the rules in the first place, so it was hard to forget them.

I decided to learn the path of an organized religion. The question was which one?

I made two lists in my head. One list was all of the world’s major religions (Christianity, Islam, Judaism, Hinduism, Buddhism, etc.). The other was a list of things which I felt spiritually spoke to me. It included all sorts of random things including the original Star Wars movies (especially Yoda), the book Siddhartha by Hesse and some obscure sci-fi books. When I stepped back and compared the lists in my head, I quickly saw that 80% of the things that I considered spiritual had a Buddhist theme. This was a big surprise to me, but not to those around me.

Frankly, the fact that I read the book Siddhartha by Herman Hesse almost every year since I was a teenage should have been a clear signal to me, but I had missed it all of those years.

Any ways, I went online and looked to find a good beginners book on Buddhism. I read several reviews and settled on "Buddhism for Dummies". I bought it and read it cover to cover. It was a great book to introduce me to Buddhism.

It was like a door opening for me. The first chapter explained the reasons that Buddhism is a religion and the reasons that it isn't a religion. I found the reasons for it to not be a religion very compelling:

- there is no god(s),
- the main dude (Buddha) said that he was just a person and he wasn't trying to teach a religion, but just a way to me happy
- there is no set of ways in which you have to act, otherwise you will go to hell. There are ways to act, but they are only suggestions and the intent isn't to avoid hell, but just to be happier. So if you want to be happy, then killing people probably isn't going to help.
- if something in Buddhism doesn't work, then don't do it.

The end of the first chapter concluded with the idea that it didn't matter whether or not Buddhism was a religion or not.

The next thing that got me was the description of the first teaching that Buddha gave. He talked about something called The Four Noble Truths. I was completely struck by these as deeply familiar. These were themes which I had been painting over and over again for the previous four years.

As I worked through the book one of the things that it suggested was to try meditating. Regardless of which form of Buddhism you practice, there is always a lot of meditation. So if you don't like meditation, then this path is not for you.

The book described a simple counting breath meditation. I tried it for 15 minutes (which is what was suggested). I found myself far more relaxed afterwards. I had tried many things over the years to relax and nothing had worked as well. Meditation had helped me to relax a lot, in only 15 minutes, didn't involve appointments or other people and was free.

Next, the book suggested that I find a teacher and a community. I went through the phone book and searched online for places to practice Buddhism in Victoria. Eshu from the Victoria Zen Centre answered my email.

Eshu and I got together for a tea. I was very nervous at the thought of meeting a real Zen monk, but I was quickly at ease. Eshu and I became fast friends. I went to listen to Eshu speak and met Ben. He seemed like a pretty good guy and I thought if the community was made up of folks like Ben, then it must be a good group.

In the summer of 2004, about two months after finding out the Mitra was pregnant, I started practicing Buddhism with the Victoria Zen Centre.

A few months later, Eshu, Niki and the kids came over for dinner. In the middle of dinner, Eshu turns to Mitra and says, "Eric is really into Zen. What do you think of that?"

I was immediately worried. I knew that I was enjoying my time with the VZC, but what did Mitra think? In that moment it occurred to me that I didn't know what she thought.

Mitra turned to Eshu and said, "It is great! Eric is so much more relaxed. He is easier with the kids. He is easier with me. He admits when he is wrong so much sooner. It has made a big, positive change in him."

Wow, I thought. I knew that I felt better, but I didn't know that I was acting so differently. I didn't know that Mitra thought it was so positive for me.

That was five years ago now. Buddhism has continued to be a very powerful and positive influence on my life. I am thankful for it, but probably not as grateful as those who would have to interact with me if I wasn't practicing.

Ordination

Doshu’s ordination is coming up next month. Invitations are going out now and many friends and family members are curious about what it means to become a monk in this tradition. I’m often asked how I feel about Doshu becoming a monk. Perhaps this is a polite way of asking “But what about your sex life?” I was pretty curious about this too, but a vow of celibacy is not a part of this ceremony.

Years ago, Doshu and I made an agreement to support each other in our spiritual development. I’d been meditating in a haphazard way since my university days, and we both joined the Toronto Zen Centre, but now we had small children and lived in rural BC so I joined the local women’s healing circle in my community, while Doshu continued to practise solo long-distance zen. We women met weekly and together explored various spiritualities, finally settling into a Wiccan practice as taught by Starhawk and the Reclaiming Collective. This transformational practice is encapsulated in its only rule: Do as you will and harm none. Starhawk strongly recommended a personal daily meditation practice, but there was no instruction in this. These were exciting times, learning to use trance as a tool for self discovery and group spiritual work, learning to change consciousness at will. I am so grateful to the powerful women who shared in this adventure.

A few years ago Doshu became seriously ill and spent many months in hospital in Vancouver. At the end of his ordeal he was alive, and thanks to a bone marrow transplant, getting better. We left our beloved Mitchell Bay, moved to Victoria, and I began seriously studying Qi Gong with the idea of becoming a practitioner. However, here again was the directive to meditate daily, yet no instruction on how to do this.

Then Doshu connected with the Victoria Zen Centre. He found a local spiritual home at last, and I found the support and community I need to develop and maintain a daily meditation practice.

I’m happy that Doshu has been able to follow the spiritual path of his choice. After years of flying to Toronto for intensives, it’s wonderful for him to have an active zen centre right here. And not only local but this is a centre that offers programs tailor made to each individual, from beginners to those who are ready for a residential program and even ordination. We are blessed to live in a time and place (Victoria!) where Zen is alive. -Soshin

A cat moment

Today, holding the cat, there was a settling into pure sensory enjoyment. The fur, soft against bare arms; nuzzling his head- the smell so sweet; feeling the tiny puffs of his breath against my face; responding to his purrs with a deep inner relaxation of being.

Aaaah, this must be the Post Tuesday Sit Glow that Doshu told me about. -Soshin

A Tea Story - Doshu

One time at a Tuesday UVic sit, Shoji and Shoshoji were a little late arriving for the setup before the sit, so as Shika, I started making the tea to help them out. Our ususal routine is to boil water and make the tea in two thermos jugs, so that it will be hot for serving at tea time following the sit.

When it came time for tea, we were served luke warm water, and I realized someting about meddling in other people's business. As part of my 'helpful assistance' I had filled the thermos jugs with warm water to preheat them, and failed to communicate this to Shoji when she arrived. As Shika, I am supposed to be training the officers, and one of the cardinal guidelines is to do one's job and let others to theirs.

I am grateful for the wisdom embodied in the form we use.

Go and boil your bottoms!

‘Twas in what I believe is called the “vestry” at the Interfaith Chapel. The crew were getting ready for the Tuesday sit.
I spied upon the counter two halves of a coconut. Naturally, I grabbed them and, knocking them together in the famous way, began to ride about the room.
“Please,” I begged, “can we use these for kinhin tonight?”
I believe the Venerable was deep in thought, for he appeared not to have heard me, although he was looking directly at me.
Young Matheo asked, “How did they get here?”
“A swallow must have brought them,” I answered, naturally.
“What? A swallow carrying a coconut?” Matheo demanded.
“It could grip it by the husk!”
“It's not a question of where he grips it! It's a simple question of weight ratios! A five ounce bird could not carry a one pound coconut,” exclaimed Matheo.
“Well, it doesn’t matter,” said I. “We’d best set up the zendo.”
“Listen. In order to maintain air-speed velocity, a swallow needs to beat its wings forty-three times every second, right?”
“Look, I have to make the tea.”
“Am I right?”
I was so pleased that young folks still value the classics.

Zen practice, habits, and the bounce

Sei-in's post about fingernail biting helped me reflect on a habit pattern that I've been struggling with lately (thank you Sei-in!); the opportunities that the Buddha, Dharma, and Sangha provide to face the difficult emotions that can come up around habits; and an associated phenomenon I've been noticing a lot lately, the desire to withdraw from things that feel unpleasant.

I grew up in a secular Jewish family and community, and have lots of strong and pleasant memories about food from my childhood -- associations of food with physical sensations of delight and also emotional sensations of comfort, love, abundance, and security. I also grew up in the 1970s, a time when there was a lot of attention to diet and being thin, and was often teased at school for being fat (along with being Jewish and in an actively left-wing family with a working mother, which was not a happy combo in a rich, right-wing, WASP neighbourhood). So, like many people there is both a neurotic tendency to cling to food and want more of it because it makes me feel good, and at the same time a neurotic aversion to it because it brings up feelings of disgust, self loathing, and shame.

Shortly before starting at the VZC I was at an all time low in terms of my physical and mental health. A very stressful job, burnout from years of difficult community work, grief over deaths of scores of friends and clients, and difficulty walking due to a brain virus several years previously led to increasing reliance on food both to cope with the difficult feelings and also, in hindsight, to try to obliterate my self and create a wall between me and the world. Although I took a political position on fat pride, really I was completely embarrassed at the binge eating I would do, smothering rage and frustration with loaves of bread and bowl after bowl of noodles.

When I started practising with the VZC there were obvious and dramatic physical changes. I put down the cane I'd been using for several years and realized that I had been hanging onto it far past the point of recovery from the brain virus. I also lost forty pounds. The physical pain from sitting, and the seemingly endless enthusiasm of Seishin ("It'll be SO MUCH FUN!"), inspired me to start Bikram Yoga and I started to regain physical strength. Then my gallbladder succumbed to the years of food abuse and I had a very restricted, no-fat diet to try to prevent more gallstones from developing. Another thirty pounds came off.

At this point I got pretty cocky. I figured I had beaten my old food habits and had got to a resting place of being balanced and healthy around food, body image, and using Zen practice to deal with difficult feelings. My family oohed and aahed at my bucking of the genetic and cultural trend. I had it all figured out. I was in control.

So, in April out came the gallbladder. I could eat whatever I wanted again, and the physical recovery of surgery was more difficult than expected and so I stopped going to yoga for a while.

Right back into old habits. Eating compulsively for comfort (to alleviate the physical pain of recovery from surgery and to deal with work stresses), and also for the physical pleasure of food. It has been mortifying to realize the depth of depravity still there for me relating to food. Not only am I greedy, I'm so greedy that I'll sneak food out of my husband's bowl just for the sheer satisfaction of knowing I'm getting more than him. It's a mess. I'm a mess. And I'm totally embarrassed that all the people who have been giving me props for losing weight are going to realize that I'm gaining it back and think I'm a loser.

So, I take it to the cushion. What the hell. Isn't sitting supposed to give me strength to face things that are difficult? And isn't that going to make me feel better?

But of course sitting is not an escape. Increasing awareness is not just of the interconnectedness of all things, the possibility of letting go of the constructed dramas of ego into the fundamental activity of the universe, of letting go of self and relaxing into just being. It is also seeing, more clearly, the crazy neurotic crap that arises again and again. And again. And again. Ouch.

So, the bounce, the desire to separate out from the experience, pull away, and blame everything around me for making me feel bad. I'm mad at practice. I'm mad at my teacher. I'm mad at the sangha. I'm mad at the board and the people I work with within the VZC. I'm mad at my gi. I'm mad at the cushion. I'm mad at myself. I'm mad at people who are at a place in their practice where they're excited about its transformative potential. I'm mad at my yoga mat and the yoga teacher and how hard it is to be the worst one in yoga class and have to sit down all the time because I'm physically and mentally weak again. Bleah. I hate practice. I want to pull away, to bounce away from the Buddha, the Dharma, the Sangha, to run away from practice and from myself.

Aha. It's really myself I'm mad at. So I just keep sitting with it, even lean into it a little. Because this is not the first time in practice that something difficult has come up. So I start talking about it with the person who I trust most to help me when I'm being a nutcase, my husband (who is unfailingly supportive without letting me get away with feeling sorry for myself). Next steps are to talk with my teacher and with peers in the sangha, who I know from experience will provide that same fantastic balanced support to practice with what is happening without getting ridiculously fascinated by it. There is no real crisis. It's OK. Relaxing again into the activity of the universe and letting go just a smidge, it all seems kind of funny, this freakout about self and wanting to look good and be in control. I'm good, I'm bad, I'm thin, I'm fat, I, I, I, I. Ding a ling a ling! More zazen!

Fingernails, Math and Meditation by Sei-in

(Typed on the float plane ride from Vancouver to Victoria)

Hmmm....

Let's see... I recently turned 40. I have been practicing with the Victoria Zen Centre for about 5 years. When I was a kid, I started biting my fingernails. I am not sure how old I was, but I know that I was biting my nails in elementary school. Let's say I started at 10 years old. This means that by the time I came to start practicing Zen, I had been biting my fingernails for about 25 years (40 years old now -started with VZC 5 years ago - started biting fingernails at age 10).

For 25 years I bit my fingernails all the time. I would bite them when I was happy. I would bite them when I was sad. I would bite them when I was excited and when I was scared. I bit them until they hurt and even when the started to bleed.

Of course, I tried to stop. I would try to get myself to stop biting them. But then I would go see a movie and find myself already biting them, without ever being aware of having started again. I never sought outside help to stop biting them (I hear that hypnosis works...), but when I was little, I remember my mom putting some foul tasting stuff on my nails so that I would hate the taste and not bite them.

This didn't work. I got used to the taste and just kept biting them. My sister stopped and my mother stopped when I was still living at home, but I did not. I continued biting my nails long After leaving home.

I learned how to hide biting my nails. I learned how to hold my hands so that people could not see my nails. In general, I didn't do it where other people (except those very close to me) could see.

So for 25 years this happens. For 25 years I bite my nails. Then I start practicing with the Victoria Zen Centre. I learn to meditate (having never done this before) and start a daily meditation practice.

I have tried a lot of things to process my intense emotions and nothing has worked as well as meditation. From the first time that I sat, I found meditation to be extremely powerful in processing emotions, reducing stress and generally making me a nicer guy to be with (my wife will certainly agree with that).

After about 6 months of practice (usually sitting at home for 25 min per day, 6 days out of 7), I looked at biting my nails and just realized that it wasn't very effective. I was biting my nails to process emotions and it didn't do a very good job. Or perhaps a better way to say that is, meditation did a much better job. Of course I had heardball of this before, but one day I just saw it differently.

It is hard to describe how it was different. It was just different. What had made sense as an activity before (biting my fingernails), no longer made sense. It seemed like a bad idea, even though I had been doing it for over 25 years. Now that I had a much more effective mechanism for dealing with stress, it just didn't make sense to bite my nails.

So I stopped.

After 25 years of habit, I just stopped.

It has been 4.5 years since that realization and I haven't bitten my nails since. Well, that isn't completely true. There have been a few times when I did bite the nail on one finger on one hand. But then I would catch myself and stop. Why am I doing this? I know that it doesn't work too well. And then I would stop again.

In hindsight, I think that two powerful things have worked to support me. One is the initial insight where I saw something that I had heard for many years completely differently. It is almost like seeing the same thing from the top, instead of the bottom. Now it makes complete sense. The other thing is the awareness of my present moment that comes with regular practice. I know that since I have started meditating, I have become much more aware. That awareness has helped a lot if I fell back into my old habits. Through that awareness, I could quickly adjust my actions.

So there is my story of how a habit pattern which was reinforced over 25 years was changed on one day and one clear insight.