unfathomable depths

one of the many pitfalls of any given path is that of complacency. this might manifest in such a readily acknowledgeable form as "put it off until tomorrow" syndrome or it may linger beneath the surface in a subtler manner.

a few nights ago, i was discussing with my Dharma mother our respective Chomon experiences. two significant steps foward during introspection are the awareness of how much suffering (knowing or unknowingly) we put those who love us through and the infinite compassion and support we have received from them in spite of such. the key thing is - although such awareness is the turning point to our taking refuge in Amida, we also know that what we are seeing is the mere tip of the iceberg - our blind passions are so deep, and the compassion so infinite that we can never fathom their depths. realising such is an extremely humbling thought.

talking through all this, she then told me that when she says the nembutsu it is not only for the compassion she is aware of having received but for all those infinite, endless examples of love and support which lie under the surface waters of our obscured by blind passions awareness. the ones we never know, never realise, never could know.

during otsutome the following morning it felt as if with each nembutsu the doors had opened wider and with deep shame i offered each syllable in gratitude, not only for all i can recall of what has been done for me, but all the infinite, endless, unfathomable depths of compassion i have received from Other.

namu amida butsu

tbh

I know all the details of karma, but I do not really believe in it.
I have heard a lot of Dharma, but never put it into practice.
Bless me and evil-doers like me
That our minds may mingle with the Dharma
 - Patrul Rinpoche

this is going to be one of those "Jon thinks he has something halfway worth hearing to say " type posts, so don't say you weren't warned. over the past few days the issue of honesty has been on my mind, in particular as regards Dharma.

i think a lot of us spend most of our lives trying to get as far away from honesty as possible, because it can be pretty brutal and ugly. that "the norm" within society is intensely self-serving, materialistic, alienating and damaging isn't necessarily what we'd like to square up to and address. so we use distractions - buy more, spend more, drink more, take more. anything to take our minds off all the reminders of that annoying first noble truth. we know these distractions ultimately don't work, but if we ALL TELL EACH OTHER REALLY LOUDLY THAT THEY DO AND THEY'RE FANTASTIC well then, it must be true right?

more than likely, we don't like the honesty of who we really are either. at least, when it comes to our faults. in fact, we're so scared of facing up to them that most of the time we'll wear various masks to keep them well hid when in company. and of course, we all have our Buddhadharma masks. i know i do - mine's the painfully sincere, oh-so-humbler-than-thou one. i also wear the "this guy knows what he's talking about when it comes to Dharma" one rather unsuccessfully it has to be said, but at least i manage to convince myself even if no-one else buys it.

it's tragic really that we persist in chasing our own imagined chimerical ideals of what we feel a Buddhist should be in order to feel comfortable enough to call ourselves one. we learn of bodhicitta and the wish to liberate all sentient beings, then rather than begin by confronting our own utter lack of compassion, instead try to convince ourselves how even people like Hitler we would want to liberate because hey, we're just so naturally bodhisattvic like that (and after all, trying to convince ourselves is so much easier than all the effort actually arousing some genuine compassion would require). or perhaps we hear somewhere that we are already Buddhas and so immediately feel a smug glow of self-satisfaction and pat ourselves on the back ("i always knew, deep down") rather than turn to address the obscurations that hinder such a realisation in the first place.

here's the thing - actually, it's perfectly natural to be fucked up you know. in fact, it's pretty unavoidable - it's called being a sentient being.  sure, we don't want to stay selfish, or uncompassionate, or ignorant, or greedy. but in order to begin work on that then we need to drop all the fake, holier-than-thou posturing bullshit, be honest with ourselves and actually face up to the often unpleasant truths.

namu amida butsu.

anger and the nembutsu

Taitetsu Unno in River of Fire, River of Water tells a wonderful story about his grandmother, a devout nembutsu-sha. answering a call one afternoon, the young Taitetsu hears her arguing angrily with a gentleman on the doorstep. after a while the door slams shut and his grandmother returns "huffing and puffing". the man in question, it transpires, goes around conning the elderly out of their money. she is furious and calls him a beast (perhaps the worst insult in Japanese, with its lack of profanity). what happens next though is that namu amida butsu immediately spills from her lips. the story can be found on p.176 for those interested, i only provide a shoddy re-telling as it raises something that's been on my mind for a week or two now.

it's easy to be grateful when happy or even when sad, then quiet naturally the nembutsu finds itself on my lips. but in the heat of the moment, when coming up against a person who annoys or infuriates me (and really just serves as a mirror for my own blind passions) then the mind of thankfulness for the Vow is seemingly nowhere to be found. Amida appears as far away from me as can be.

but really, i guess that's why they're called blind passions because of course - My eyes being hindered by blind passions, I cannot perceive the light that grasps me; Yet the great compassion, without tiring, Illumines me always.

always. and it's that same great compassion that allows me to acknowledge my anger, even if sometimes long after it has subsided, say "sorry" and move forward, entrusting all - happiness, sadness and yes, anger - to Amida.

namu amida butsu