Friday, September 18, 2009

Reflections on Dana

Last week Ven. Eshu mailed out on the members' listserv an invitation to participate in the Dana group, which meets quarterly (next meeting Sept 30). As explained in that email, the idea for a Dana group arose during the Zen Centre's 2009 strategic planning sessions held last fall/winter and serves not only to help support the financial costs of the Zen Centre but also to provide, in Ven. Eshu's words, an "experiential investigation of Dana practice".

Ven. Eshu already covered in his email the origins of the Dana group and the function in terms of financial stability and sustainability for the Zen Centre. I thought I'd write a bit about my experience of the Dana meetings on the other aspect -- the opportunity to investigate Dana practice.

The main challenge in Dana practice for me has been around money. I grew up in a family affluent enough to never go hungry or worry about housing, but also in a political and cultural environment very conscious around poverty and inequality -- the "class struggle" was a phrase used with great frequency and many of my childhood memories are of protests, pickets, and union rallies. After moving out of my parents' place, there were a few short term jobs but for seven years I lived first off student loans and then on welfare. These were lean years where most months I ran out of money partway through the month so stole food or rooted through garbage bins for supermarket rejects to eat, came up with various scams to get reduced costs for basics like bus fare and used clothes/shoes, and often couch surfed when I couldn't make rent. Most months I asked people (mostly my family, but sometimes strangers) for help.

In my late twenties a friend told me about a job in a non-profit organization that valued life experience over other credentials, and so after years of unemployment I got a professional job at union wages. A couple years after that I lucked into a secretarial job at the university, where the wages were slightly better and the benefits far better. Since that time although I've sometimes had to scramble for work and have often been stressed about money, especially during periods of illness, I again consistently have a roof over my head and enough food to eat.

Now in 2009 our 2-person household is among the very rich by global standards. Last year we had a joint annual income of $42,180 after taxes, and we own a house. We have a joint bank account for joint expenses (the house, our animals, food) and also each have our own bank accounts for our individual expenses (clothes, donations, transportation, gifts, health care, etc.). Having proportionally scaled our contributions to the joint account to reflect the difference in our incomes, each month after putting money in to the joint account I have $415 to cover everything else. That money, like our joint money, is budgeted to the penny.

That's a lot of money but before starting Dana practice I often approached life as if I was still poor, with a lot of fear, anxiety, and also a lot of anger and judgment about people who have more money than we do. My basic position was that there was no way I could possibly afford to donate to the Zen Centre on top of the monthly membership fee and the small monthly amount I donate to the Zen Centre.

As always with practice in the Zen Centre, nobody guilt tripped or forced me into participating in the Dana group. People I greatly respect were part of it so I just got curious about it and decided to go, not planning to contribute any cash, just to see what it was like. The first meeting was at tax return time and shortly before going I did my tax return and realized I'd be getting around $300 back so pledged that money. For the next one I decided to experiment for a month with cutting everything out of my personal budget that wasn't absolutely necessary, to see how much I could scrape up for the Zen Centre -- figuring it would be just a few dollars at best as I didn't think I had many luxuries within my existing budget. I started with an inventory of all my financial assets (RRSP and savings account) and the details of my monthly budget, taking a hard look at what I really had vs. what I felt I had. As the month went along I experimented with eating less (as some of the financial stress comes from not being able to save for house repairs and other unexpected emergencies out of our joint account) and also did absolutely nothing social that cost money -- no going out for coffee or meals, renting movies, or any of the other occasional treats within my existing budget. To my surprise during that period I was offered a bit of freelance work on top of my job, and so over the course of three months was able to contribute $500 as part of the Dana group.
I also during this time read a book by Peter Singer, "The Life You Can Save", which explores the morality of what people living in rich countries should be contributing to end dire poverty -- although I didn't agree with everything in the book it did, like the Dana group, provide the opportunity to see more clearly inconsistencies between my beliefs/values and my day to day actions relating to money.

Intrigued by the experience of the experiment with what could be cut and what I really could contribute, I decided to continue the one month experiment and use it as an opportunity to be completely honest about how much money I have and the choices I make in relation to money. This has required explaining to the people in my life that although I want to spend time with them I don't want to spend time doing things that cost money. Although people have mostly been supportive there have been some hurt feelings and eye-rolling with comments about "martyrdom" and "moral superiority".

For me this experiment with money has not been at all about moral superiority, although it has been about values. For many years I've talked about social justice and contributed a lot in various ways, but there have been inconsistencies and tendencies to selfish indulgences. The selfish tendencies are still there but I have been able to more clearly and honestly stand for what I believe in, and act in a way that is more consistent with those values. At the same time I've been able to see that my values are reflections of my day to day actions so have been less politically dogmatic about what my values should be, and more clear about how they're manifesting through my day to day life.

A side benefit of all of this has been the letting go of anxiety about money and coming to see that I am not still living on welfare. As part of being sick I spent $800 on health care, and cried and cried the day after paying those bills feeling that I had just blown my entire savings on something totally stupid and unnecessary. I did this even though I knew I'd be getting a gift from my grandfather that would cover those costs and really I was not going to be penniless as a result. As a slow learner in practice it takes a lot of these incidents to make a dint in these kinds of habitual reactions but it feels like the practice of being in the Dana group is steadily chipping away at it.

At the last Dana group meeting a parent talked about Dana as the kind of open-hearted generosity that is there when you respond to something your child needs. There is no thinking about doing this because it makes me a good person or because I should do it, the need is in front of you and you spontaneously respond in an appropriate way. Although I don't have children, that particular parent has been wonderfully generous in allowing me to spend time with her children and the feeling she talked about was something I had experienced with her kids -- an open hearted engagement.

Seeing when this feeling can be brought to other aspects of life, whether it's open hearted giving of money or time or attentive listening or something else, has been the practice for me in the last couple months. Buddhism hooked me so strongly at age 16 because life as suffering was easy for me to relate to. But in the last few months I've been seeing, in bits and pieces, the flip side -- the joy in life, and the possibility of connecting with that joy right now if I let go of "I" as a subject that the rest of the world revolves around and engage in genuine relationship with the world without concerns about what I look like and how I'll be perceived.

The picture at the top of this post reminded me of the experience of Dana as an activity that is an open-hearted exchange of joy. I've been the beggar in the picture, and I've been the giver in the picture as well. Asking for help, offering help, receiving help when it is offered -- all have been immeasurably enriched by the process of being in the Dana group. For anyone interested in checking it out I hope you'll come to the September meeting, and look forward to hearing what the experience has been like for other people engaged in this practice!

P.S. -- Before participating in the Dana group, the percentage of my income (from all sources -- work, gifts, tax refund, etc.) going to Dana was averaging around 10% -- now it's at 15%.

Thursday, September 10, 2009

NICK AND SHELLEY HAVE A BABY


Member Nick Ruedy and his partner Shelley Dewar are thrilled to announce that at 10:12am on Tuesday September 8th, 2009 Shelley gave birth to a bouncing baby boy, who they have named Jasper. Weighing in at 8lbs. 11oz. he looks the picture of health. Here he is with his papa.

Wednesday, September 2, 2009

More on pain vs suffering

>By Soshin


It began at a recent family dinner - you know the kind - good food, good wine, laughs, family time. We were accidentally all home at the same time, and we all had the idea of some quality time together before our Fall plans take us in different directions...


Then, unexpectedly for me, wham, someone makes a pointed comment. I'm hurt. All the fun goes out of the evening. I retreat, start cleaning up. I feel the pain and think about Ven. Eshu's teaching, about Joshua's blog about pain and suffering. Where is the pain? in my chest. Who is feeling it? just for a moment the pain goes away. There's just space.


Then the pain is back, a tight ache in my chest that reaches up and pulls down the corners of my mouth, makes my eyes water. I retreat into a familiar set of responses, don't want to talk, feel hurt and right and self justified and very confused. The pain is familiar, the behaviour familiar, the goal to hurt back.


I think: just break the pattern.


I'm conscious that the Pain is in my chest and the Suffering is everything else: feelling inadequate as a parent, berating myself for being so stupid, wanting to niggle away at the pain like picking at a scab. I finish cleaning up, and start writing to try to gain some insight or at least perspective...


I realize that for this dinner I had an agenda of pure family fun and I also had mountains of unconscious baggage. The thing of it is that I'm not conscious of my unconscious baggage. I can feel it leading me by the nose, but don't have any kind of grip on it. In this case it took the form of a totally unrealistic ideal of family life.


This experience though somewhat brutal at the time has given me some clarity on a particular habit pattern, and a great incentive to sit sit sit!


Sunday, August 30, 2009

Pain vs. suffering

In Buddhist books and talks there is often discussion of the distinction between pain -- physical sensations -- and suffering, how the mind experiences and reacts to those sensations.

In the last year I've had several opportunities to explore this teaching through illness and recovery from two surgeries. Each time I thought "Ah, I understand this teaching now, I've really grasped it", only to find that the next time around the same old mental whirlpool of self-pity, anger, fear, depression, and longing to collapse into helplessness without taking any responsibility for the situation.

Most recently I've been sick for a month or so, not able to do much other than eat, sleep, and sometimes work and do house chores -- not much sitting (and no zendo practice), no yoga, no volunteering other than the occasional email.

This has been a very interesting practice experience. The physical discomfort of the nausea and the pain is, objectively, not particularly intense but the suffering has been quite heavy at times. It often takes me a while to see what is going on and so it's only after four weeks or so that I can see that the main limitation to my usual day to day activities is not the physical sensation, but rather the suffering that my mind is creating around "being sick". At home, when there's a flareup of pain or nausea it's not a big deal -- I just walk around or lie down until it goes away. I know that Reese loves me and am not embarrassed to be myself around him, nausea/pain and all. In the world outside the house I am obsessed with what people think of me, swinging between the polar extremes of wanting to grit my teeth and work through the pain so that people are impressed with my toughness, and wanting to lie in a blubbering heap and have everyone give me "poor-poors" (poor, poor Josh). To my chagrin, not being a particularly tough person the blubbering heap side tends to predominate.

So the question then arises how to practice with these tendencies. Just observing them feels humiliating. I want to do something to change them so I'm not so embarrassed by myself. It struck me that one thing I could do was be honest on this blog about what is happening, both as a way of being accountable for my absence from the zendo and other VZC activities, and also as a way of acknowledging that this is not an exceptionally embarrassing or awful condition to be in -- it is part of being human. There's a reason why teachings about pain and suffering are fundamental! Thanks everyone for all that you do to help with practice in the parts of life that are difficult.

Friday, August 21, 2009

Vegetarian Dreams...?

Curious as to why I am a vegetarian? Or wondering how much impact one short dream can have in my life?

Once again, this isn't specifically about Buddhism, so I am just putting a link up here on the VZC newsletter:


Thursday, August 13, 2009

"Seeing is Believing" Tour

Hello My Zen Centre Friends,

I just finished a post on my experiences on a "Seeing is Believing" tour that I recently did of Vancouver's downtown Eastside. I didn't think that it made sense to post it on our newsletter (as it is not directly related to the VZC), but I did want to let folks know about it. If you are interested, you can find it here:

http://sei-inremyjordan.blogspot.com/2009/08/seeing-is-believing-tour-of-downtown.html

Sei-in

Monday, August 10, 2009

Sangha Sunday August 23 2009

Sangha Sunday August 23 2009
East Sooke Park (Aylard Farm)

10:00AM—2:00PM?

This month's Sangha Sunday will be held at the beach at the Aylard's Farm end of East Sooke Park. The idea is to enjoy the beach, the meadow and the forest together.

We won't be organizing any ambitious games, although we'll probably have a few fun group activities for those who want them.

• Bring picnic stuff. I still don't know if we'll be able to grill anything, so plan on bringing sandwiches or whatever for you and your family and friends, and maybe something to share with everyone if you feel so inclined. (I'm hoping to bring some Uminami Farm organic watermelon!)
• Bring beach stuff: buckets, balls, frisbees, sunblock... You know the kind of thing.
• If anyone has a beach volleyball set, please bring it. This is a perfect beach for that!
• We're leaving the ending time open. Stay for as long or as short a time as you wish.

• The sand at the Aylard Farm beach is perfect for incense bowls, so bring a container if you're in the market for that substance.

• There is a splendid meadow perfect for frisbee, catch, kite flying or just plain old-fashioned gamboling.

• There is a very pleasant hike to an ancient petroglyph. It takes about 30 minutes to get there from the beach. I've done this hike with my mother-in-law, who is in her eighties. But still, you should have sensible footwear if you want to go to the petroglyph. I wouldn't do it in flip flops.

While hiking in East Sooke park I have seen: Orcas, deer, sea lions, seals, otters, eagles, herons, myriad raccoons, squirrels, birds, and other small beings. I also once saw a fresh cougar track, but we won't be lucky enough to see one of those cats with all the racket we'll be making!

Just find your way to the parking lot at Aylard's Farm (a link to directions is below). Then head towards the beach. You can't miss it: It's right beside the ocean!

I'll be sending a PDF with more information and a map to all VZC members.
I look forward to seeing you there!
Please RSVP to seanholland@telus.net

Petroglyph photo
Directions to the park
http://www.eastsookepark.com/


Saturday, July 25, 2009

A thank-you to all


At the recent commitment ceremony, I experienced the most wonderful outpouring of love and kindness from all who were present, and from many who were unable to attend. Thank-you all.

I particularly want to acknowledge my wife Soshin, for her patience and unqualified support, my fellow initiates, Seishin, Myoshin, and Myoko, who made the day so memorable, the sangha of the Victoria Zen Centre, for their energy and encouragement, and our teacher, Venerable Eshu, without whose guidance none of this would be possible.

nine bows,
Doshu

Friday, July 17, 2009

A Moment of Change

I am standing on a dirt road in Cambodia. It is hot. I feel connected to the sky above my head and to the ground underneath my feet. I feel that I am where I should be, doing what I should be doing.


I have just finished giving out packages of school supplies to lots of children. The kids have gone off to look at what they have received and I am speaking with an old Cambodian woman. We are talking about how the Khmer Rouge killed her husband. She asked if I could give her any money and I have quietly pushed a US twenty dollar bill into her hands. She asks me why I am doing this.

"Because I am a Buddhist." I reply.

At this point, I had been practicing Buddhism for almost exactly 2 years, but that was the first time I told almost anyone that I was Buddhist.

I had just spent 6 months in Southeast Asia visiting a variety of Buddhist countries. I was keeping my head shaved at that time (looking a lot like a Buddhist monk). Folks kept asking me if I was Buddhist. I would side-step the question and just say that, "it was a good way to keep cool."

I didn't want to say that I was Buddhist.

For 18 months previously, I was in Victoria (before we left on the trip) and I didn't mention my involvement in Buddhism to anyone except a few close people.

For 24 months, I was worried about what people would think if I said that I was Buddhist. I was worried that people would think I was flaky. I was worried about how this would change what it was to be Eric. Would this change my identity (both in my own eyes and in the eyes of others)? I was worried that I was pretending and somehow a fake. Perhaps I wasn't as sincere as others? Somehow Buddhism belonged to someone else and I was intruding.

In that moment on the hot dirt road in Cambodia, I acted differently.

In that moment in Cambodia, the most truthful, deepest, honest and authentic answer that I could give to the old Cambodian woman was, "I am giving these things because I am Buddhist."

That was a turning point for me. Since then, I have been very open about my involvement with Buddhism. I had feared that I would find rejection, concern and disagreement. Instead, I have found interest, curiosity and so much more acceptance than I would have thought possible. What a wonderful surprise!

The acceptance started in this important moment with the old woman in Cambodia. When I told her, she nodded. There was no scolding or anger. There was only happiness, warm acceptance and understanding. She replied to me, "Of course you are. I am Buddhist as well."

She held my hands tight, smiled and her eyes beamed. Then she walked with me out of the sun, to sit with a dozen or so mothers and their children. We enjoyed fresh coconut milk while the room filled with smiles and laughter.

Friday, July 10, 2009

Names, Names and More Names

I Want A Cool Buddhist Name!

So when I first got involved with Buddhism, I thought it was so cool to have a Buddhist name. What a great thing! To have some cool sounding Japanese name that I could use. I wanted one!


Name? I Don't Want A Buddhist Name!

I practiced with the VZC for a few years and then had the chance to attend my first sesshin. During that sesshin, I had my first clear memories of my abuse as a child. It was a very overwhelming experience. Part way through the sesshin I lost my interest in getting a Buddhist name. I asked myself, "Why would I want that? I feel so f**ked up. I am just going to focus on meditating."


Don't Think About It Too Much...

After another year and a half, I met the requirements for Jukai. I wasn’t working towards this, but it happened anyways. Eshu asked me if I wanted to do the ceremony. The idea rolled around in my head and when Eshu asked for the second time, I said yes.

The night before the ceremony Alizeh was sick all night. I stayed up with her, thinking that if I stayed up, then at least Mitra will have rested and I could get some sleep the next day after the ceremony.

So, the ceremony was very surreal on account of my exhaustion. During the ceremony, I received my Buddhist name. I hadn't really thought too much about the idea of a new name since my first sesshin almost two years earlier. I found when I had the new name, I wanted to use it. I like being called Sei-in.


There Can Be Only One!

However, I liked Sei-in so much that I wanted to get rid of Eric. I wanted to fix on Sei-in. Out with the old and in with the new.

I figures that I would try out my new name and give myself until after my third sesshin to make a decision. I really wanted to go one way or the other.

I did the sesshin in May and was confused when I came back. I wanted a decision about by name. I wanted one name. But that is not what happened for me. It felt like I was forcing it. So, I took some time and space just to let things settle.


Two Names Are Better Than One

I am not sure what I will do in the future, but for now I am using both names almost equally.

In the confusion that comes from using two names I have found the constant reminder that I am both of these names and neither of these names. I am other names too: Dad, Brother, Sweetie...

Without fixing on one name reminds me on a daily basis that I have the freedom to be all of those names and none of them. It is like the saying, “The person with one clock always knows the time, while the person with two clocks is never sure.”

I have found both fear and freedom in doubt.