Showing posts with label forest meditation. Show all posts
Showing posts with label forest meditation. Show all posts

Tuesday, August 2, 2011

Harmonious vs. Quarrelsome Communities

Wisdom Quarterly
Real Buddhist monastic life in the original forest tradition, modern Sri Lanka

PARILEYYAKA FOREST, India - The Buddha stood in the woods. Ven. Anuruddha welcomed his teacher and led him to the wilderness abode he shared with two other Buddhist monks, Nandiya and Kimbila.

They welcomed the Buddha and were overjoyed on account of his visit. They saw to it that he was able to rinse his feet and drink and sit in a prepared seat. They prostrated, happy at the rare opportunity to show their teachers all the customary marks of respect.

The Buddha asked about their progress along the path-of-practice and in terms of securing the allowable requisites (almsfood, robes, shelter, medicine, etc.). They answered that they lived a quiet, peaceful, and harmonious life. As such, their needs were met and they were able to use the suitable conditions to make progress in their meditation practice, encouraging one another along the Dharma path.

The Buddha asked how their relationship as fellow practitioners was going. And Anuruddha replied, "We meditate separately and come together to discuss the Dharma on a regular basis. We live in harmony mixing like milk and water. My companions are a great blessing. Before I do or say anything, I ask myself how they would react. Instead of following my own impulse, I defer to them. If I question that my actions might offend, I refrain. We may be three, but we are of one mind."

The Buddha indicated his approval and turned to the other two recluses. Kimbila added, "What Anuruddha says is true: We live in harmony with great consideration for one another."

Nandiya added, "We share not only the offerings we collect but also encouragement and meditation experience."



The Buddha expressed delight and offered them praise, noting how they lived in contrast to the quarreling monks of Kosambi:
  • Nine years after he began teaching, the Buddha was residing in Kosambi when a quarrel arose between two groups of monastics. Some were experts in the disciplinary code (Vinaya), others in doctrinal matters (Dharma). He tried to settle their quarrel. But when his efforts failed, he left them without a word, taking only his bowl and robes, and retired to the Paileyyaka Forest without an attendant. There, an elephant ministered to his needs, clearing a portion of the forest to reveal a stone cave and each day bringing him fruits as an offering. A monkey observing this brought an offering of his own, a honeycomb. And when the people of Kosambi found out that the Buddha had gone into the forest alone because of the quarrels, they stopped offering alms to them. As soon as news reached Ananda, who was spending the rainy season in Savatthi, he decided to visit the Buddha and told him that people everywhere were eager to hear the Dharma, particularly in Savatthi. The monks in Kosambi settled their quarrels and came to seek the Buddha's forgiveness, resulting in a sutra with the message that:
"One should associate with the wise, not the foolish.
It is better to live alone if good friends cannot be found.
For there is no companionship with the foolish."



He praised Anuruddha, Nandiya, and Kimbila by saying, "Excellent! Harmony is the way. A spiritual community is only a real Sangha when there is harmony and mutual encouragement. It is because of authentically awakening [penetrative insight leading through the stages of enlightenment culminating in arhatship] that you live in harmony.

The Buddha stayed with these monastics for weeks observing how they went out on almsround after morning meditation. Whoever returned first prepared seats for the others, fetched water, and set out an additional clay bowl [bowls were made of clay at that time]. Before eating, he placed some of his food in the empty bowl to share. When they finished eating, they gathered their leftovers and donated them to creatures on land or in the stream. They shared duties not keeping track of who did more or who less and they made sure to meet regularly and otherwise lived together in silence.

Before the Buddha departed, he spoke in praise of harmony and declared six principles to achieve it:
  1. sharing a living space whether in a city or forest
  2. sharing duties essential to life
  3. observing the precepts
  4. uttering only words that contribute to harmony, leaving unsaid words that might split the community or ruin its harmony
  5. meeting together to share their insight and understanding of the Dharma
  6. respecting others' viewpoints without coercing others to follow their views.
A community living in accord with these principles lives in happiness and harmony. The monks were delighted at this teaching. The Buddha went from Parileyyaka Forest to Rakkhita Forest, took a seat under a lush Sal tree, and decided to spend the following rainy season alone in the woods.


Friday, June 10, 2011

Why We Love Trees (Tree Hugger's Ball)

We love trees. And what better way to show it than to save them, meditate under them, and hug them? The Buddha was born under a Sal tree in Lumbini Garden.

During his quest, he sought shelter under a great Sal tree. There he realized that a course of austerities was no way to enlightenment; then, mistaken for a tree spirit (dryad or bhummi-deva), he was fed good food that fortified him for the more difficult effort of balancing striving-and-receiving.

He then sat under a Bodhi tree and reached enlightenment. He taught under trees, taught others to sit under trees, and frequently retreated to the forest alone to enjoy the silence and bliss of meditation under trees.

Such was his experience under the canopy that when it came time to pass into final nirvana, he laid out between twin Sal trees. He joyfully said goodbye, gave his last words of advice -- "All conditioned-phenomena are hurtling towards destruction; work out your liberation with diligence" (Parinirvana Sutra) -- then entered the purifying absorptions (jhanas) before going beyond:

"Gone, gone, gone beyond, gone altogether beyond, O what an awakening, so it is!" (the Heart of Perfect Wisdom Sutra mantra)

(OC Weekly: Tree Hugger's Ball)

It’s that time of year again -- the annual Tree Hugger’s Ball takes over Silverado, and OC’s eco-maniacs get their day in the Sun. The afternoon begins with the Go Green Expo, an environmental fair dedicated to teaching everyone how to do just that via food, art, auctions, shopping, costumed dancers, and information about alternative energy and fuel-efficient vehicles. Eco-hero Daryl Hannah is the night’s guest speaker; she’ll be followed by bands playing folk, Appalachian music and “environmental blues” (gas prices, oil wars?) and dancing until midnight. Guests are encouraged to wear their own earthy costumes. It is a ball after all.

Friday, May 13, 2011

Escape? The seclusion illusion

Megan Johnston (smh.com.au, May 14, 2011)

(Illustration by Robert Duong. Photo: Robert Duong)

Sick of modern life? You're not Robinson Crusoe. But withdrawing from the world only makes things worse.

It has been almost 20 years since an idealistic drifter called Christopher McCandless trekked into the Alaskan wilderness and died. Seeking a period of contemplation and driven by a contempt for civilization, the young American gave away his savings and abandoned his possessions before embarking on what he saw as a noble odyssey.

Desperately ill-prepared, his quest lasted barely a few months before he perished from starvation.

His journey may have been doomed, but our fascination with it and the abundance of websites, books, and films that have immortalized his memory all speak to our longing for solitude.

The impulse is familiar to anyone who has felt overwhelmed by modern life. When disaster, over-information, or financial stress become too much, we retreat to soothing distractions and bunker down in personal affairs.

Instead of escaping to the wilderness, however, we usually seek solace in the cinema, in the meditation hall, or at a bolthole by the beach.

In many cases it's no more than a healthy diversion. No one could sensibly argue that an occasional break is anything other than good for our well-being.

But for some, seclusion can morph into long-term withdrawal. Solitude can tip into loneliness. Cocooning, it's often called. Or its close relation -- escapism. As inviting as both may seem, they rarely bring contentment. More

Tuesday, April 26, 2011

The Buddha's Forest Tradition

Wisdom Quarterly
The Buddha lovingly bundled beholding the Himalayas from behind, Ladakh, India

The wonderful thing about Buddhism originally (the Dharma as taught by the historical Buddha, Siddhartha Gautama) is that it was a forest tradition.

Siddhartha left Kapilavastu, the territory of his family, cut off his hair, discarded his fine clothes, crossed the river in a simple garment and went in search of yogis in the wilderness.

He found Alara Kalama and then Uddaka Ramaputra, wandering ascetics who taught him to meditate in the tradition of mental serenity. This led to a great accomplishment -- self control and a clear heart/mind.

But he left it behind as well because he realized that serenity in itself -- even to the tranquil depths of full absorption -- did not lead to final and complete liberation (moksha).

India had found many routes to the heavens. And many seers could see no further than this. Uddaka Ramaputra's teacher, Rama, had reached the zenith of worlds beyond form. But even that was not outside of samsara, the interminable Round of Rebirths.

Leaving behind these great teachers, Siddhartha plunged himself into the forest to practice austerities. Everyone understood that this had to be the way to break free of sensuality, the body, and all its temptations and bonds.


What the Buddha realized is what "everybody" knows now: The body is not to blame, but rather attachment and clinging, which are defilements of the mind/heart. Insight brought Siddhartha to this realization. And that realization made him the Buddha.

Siddhartha did his striving almost exclusively in the quiet and nurturing atmosphere of the forest, attaining buddhahood in a grove of Bo trees (Bodh Gaya).

Legend has it, that on becoming a supremely enligthened teacher (samma-sam-buddha) he remained in the forest, in the vicinity of the Bodhi tree (the sacred and sheltering fig tree), staring at unblinkingly in admiration.

Woodland sprites (fairies, earthbound-devas) had offered to save his life when his fasting had becoming so extreme that he looked dead. "He's dead," one said. The other explained, "No, this is how ascetics behave." "We should feed him deva food through his pores," they concluded.

"No," Siddhartha aware of their conversation said to them, "that won't be necessary. People think that I am fasting, and were I to be living on subtle deva nourishment, it would be deceiving them." But this encouraged Siddhartha to nourish his body with human food.

He came to understand that it was not by rejecting the world and such facts as the constraints of materiality (e.g., the need for nutrition) that one finds freedom. Instead, it is by practicing serenity-and-insight, Zen and Vipassana one can say. The first prepares the mind/heart through concentration (calm, collectedness, intensification, and focus). The other aims the laser singularity of consciousness on mindful contemplation of four things that lead to freedom here and now.

They lead the heart to realize nirvana and the complete end of suffering.

Realizing it and deciding to teach others the path of purification, the path to freedom, he walked to another forest in Sarnath, in a deer park outside of the famous ancient Indian city of Varanasi. There he instructed the first Five Disciples, who had formerly practiced austerities with him trying to reach liberation.


Siddhartha returns to the Five Ascetics as the Buddha and sets rolling in motion the Wheel of the Dharma by teaching them the path to enlightenment (History of Buddhism).

When the Five Ascetics reached enlightenment by hearing the Dhammacakkappavattana Sutra ("Turning the Wheel of Dharma"), the Buddha began a forest tradition of recluses. Whether lay people came to him or wanderers on a quest for enlightenment, the Buddha's essential advice was the same:

"Here in this Dharma (this Teaching), a meditator who has gone to the forest, or to the foot of a tree, or to an empty place, sits down cross legged, holding the back sustainably erect [not too stiff, not too lax], arousing mindfulness in front."

Of course, before there can be real insight into those four things mentioned before, there must be serenity. Mindfulness is not thinking. There is contemplation and reflection and reviewing (anussati), but that occurs as one emerges from the purifying absorptions (jhanas, zens, ch'ans as it were).

To gain concentration (samadhi) to the level of full-absorption one needs mindfulness, which simply means constant-bare-awareness, nonjudgmental attention, non-evaluative holding in consciousness. One avoids two extremes, rigidity and laxity, and balances in the blissful middle, awake but serene.

The Buddha often taught lay people and rulers outside of cities, villages, and hamlets while residing in groves and orchards.

Then the Buddha moved from grove to grove -- bamboo, mango... -- from glade to glade, staying outdoors, enjoying the freedom of the left-home life. He developed a great following. He said the home life was constricted and dusty, but renunciation (which need not mean getting rid of anything but simply letting go of the attachment to everything) was open and free:
  • "Household life is crowded, constricting, and dusty! A life gone forth is wide open. While living at home, it is not easy to carry out this noble life utterly perfect and pure as [the milky luminous lustre of a] polished conch shell... But suppose I cut off my hair and beard, don a saffron robe, and go forth from home into homelessness? What if I leave behind my fortune, small or large, leave behind my circle of family and friends, small or large? Then doing so out of verifiable-confidence (saddha) in this Teacher or this Teaching or these well-taught disciples, after past lives of accumulating the right conditions for attaining the expeditious state of a recluse in the Buddha's lineage, surely one has found the surest means of winning the stream that runs towards and merges with the deathless nirvana!"

Before monasteries were built, the Buddha sent his disciples into the forest to live, in no way harming nature, taking their ceramic bowls with them to gather alms food which delighted the people of India to give in a longstanding tradition of dana. After monasteries were built, the Buddha sent his disciples into the forest to practice. Even at the end of his days before his final passing into nirvana without remainder outdoors in a grove between twin Sal trees, he advised his deva and human disciples who had gathered in the tens of thousands (mostly devas):

The Buddha in a bamboo grove, Malaysia(Esani/Flickr.com)

If you would maintain in purity the [monastic] precepts, you should not give yourselves over to buying... You should not covet fields or buildings, nor accumulate servants, attendants, or animals. You should flee from all sorts of property and wealth as you would avoid a fire or a pit. You should not cut down grass or trees, neither break new soil, nor plough the earth. ...All of these are things which are improper (for a recluse).