A Dharma Glimpse by Karmadeva

Often we take things for granted. We continue with our own lives as though everything is fine, even when everything is falling apart for others. That’s not to say we shouldn’t be happy with our lives if things are comfortable and we are happy. I remember a retreat I completed in the March that lockdown started. My sudden realisation that if humans were no longer here it wouldn’t have that much impact on the earth. And none in the universe frightened me, felt uncomfortable.  

Last night I attended an arts exhibition at the Midland Arts Centre in Birmingham. A zen Buddhist that I know asked me along. The event was primarily to remember the attack by police on the commuters at a train station on 31 August 2019. This was part of a clamp down on the demonstrations in Hong Kong at that time. There were also images from artists from China, Thailand and Myanmar. 

The young person that acted as interpreter to the four westerners attending wept as he translated speeches for us. Many people present had been directly involved in protests in Hong Kong and they all sat on the floor while the various protest songs were performed. Looking around the room as flowers were given to us to place on a shrine at the front of the room, I realised that this was real.  I mean, I’ve watched the same people on the news. Sometimes with the police beating them, water cannons being used on them and not seeing the pain they feel. At that moment last night, I again realised that sometimes we don’t think, or maybe don’t feel strong enough about issues that we really should be taking note of. The Ukrainian crisis, oppression around the world and the destruction of this planet. All just ignored. Yet when we’re told to stay at home for two years as we may catch a virus we comply without question. I’m not going to suggest why or say I’m any different because I’m probably as bad as anyone else if not worse. What I would say is maybe we should look at the words of Martin Niemöller. 

First they came for the Communists
And I did not speak out
Because I was not a Communist

Then they came for the Socialists
And I did not speak out
Because I was not a Socialist

Then they came for the trade unionists
And I did not speak out
Because I was not a trade unionist

Then they came for the Jews
And I did not speak out
Because I was not a Jew

Then they came for me
And there was no one left
To speak out for me

A Dharma Glimpse by Dayamay

I noticed recently that the majority of the elderly people that I work with seem to have a very gracious attitude towards their, often very challenging predicaments. Many of them have extremely debilitating health conditions and are dependent on people like myself for some of their most basic needs. Despite this fact and the fact that I obviously, in many ways, represent the absence of their independence and a potential threat to their dignity, most of them go out of their way to make my job as easy as possible and treat me with great love and respect. I would go as far as to say that some of them positively radiate grace.
Given my Buddhist leanings, and the learning and training that I have so fortunately received over the years, I am inclined to wonder about the meaning of this phenomena.
My musings often lead me to ideas about how we learn to deal with suffering – how it seems to soften some of us up and make us more receptive to spiritual wisdom. I know that the acceptance that I eventually found with regards the inevitability of my own suffering, seemed to nudge me from a state of constant agitation, into a much more tolerant and philosophical outlook. But this all took time.
When I think about some of my elderly clients I can see that most of them have had more than twice as much time as me to master their afflictions and have maybe become more adept at holding them, or even subverting them.
Maybe they have inadvertently resolved the dilemma inherent to the Buddha’s teachings on the Four Noble truths, which, to me, implies a kind of enlightenment.
I often think about how, in our terminally busy culture, we are inclined to dismiss the elderly as if they have had their day and no longer have anything valuable to offer society. In reality they might be showing us and teaching us the most important lessons that we could ever learn.
Western culture seems to lack the Elder function that is so central to the health and prosperity evident in some of the indigenous populations of the world. I wonder if our obsession with wealth and success has superseded and thereby made obsolete, essential elements of the natural process by which real wisdom is transmitted from generation to generation.
If nothing else, my journey has taught me to pay attention to what the world is showing me and to try to think outside the box. The affliction of impermanence has a deeper meaning and, if we engage with it in a constructive way, can reveal great and powerful wisdom.

A Dharma Glimpse by Beth H

Early this morning I found I couldn’t sleep…

The room is dark, so moving to the balcony window, I pull open the curtains to reveal the most amazing red orange sun rising from the Mediterranean.

Mesmerised I sit outside and watch as it slowly rises and all around the sky transforms into a raging orange fireball while the smouldering sea changes from a milky blue white sheen to a moody blue shimmer, to a deep turquoise.

The mountains are silhouetted in the distance and the olive groves peek through the shimmering haze.

The birds slowly awaken and begin their chatter. Transfixed, I am not sure where to concentrate my amazement. It is awe inspiring and my senses cannot truly comprehend its majesty.

The moment passes as the sun has risen and the magic becomes “today”. People start appearing and traffic can be heard in the distance. The bubble has burst. I experienced and was part of something very special, magical even. A daily phenomenon… the Sun arriving to wake up the day.

AND it happens every single day!!!

Namo Amida Bu

Dharma Glimpse by Beth W

I woke on Saturday morning feeling flat. This ‘flatness’ had been with me from the previous day, when I also noticed how busy and full my head seemed, and how tired I felt.

For me, Saturdays now bring with them the offer of attending morning Buddhist practice at the temple. This Saturday, I was aware that part of me felt certain that I couldn’t attend Buddhist practice, “you’re too tired,” “you have lots to do,” “you need to tend to your houseplants.” This is a pattern I know well – when I’m caught up with a busy mind and feeling anxious or flat, I find myself moving towards less healthy habits of disconnection, not walking in nature, eating far too much chocolate, and scrolling through YouTube. I sometimes experience a kind of paralysis, where part of me feels so overwhelmed that not much gets done besides a LOT of thinking.

This time, something was different. There was a part of me that didn’t agree with the ‘busy/doing’ part. Despite my internal conflict, Buddhist practice won through. I set up my tablet, relocated my Buddha statue and lit a candle. As I sat down on my red cushion, sipping herbal tea, I still wasn’t sure that I felt motivated ‘enough’ for practice, or even what I was doing there – but I was there. One of my cats joined me for a little while and I noticed a softening in my anxious system.

As Sam shared his Dharma glimpse, he talked of how his eagerness to ‘have the task done’ can take away the pleasure or benefits involved in completing a task. This resonated with me as my thoughts wandered to my Saturday morning ritual of tending to my houseplants. This is something which needs to be done, but often brings me such joy and calm. Today, with my ‘flatness,’ I had seen it as another thing on the list of things that I ‘have to do,’ – that didn’t feel very joyous, and now I hadn’t got time to ‘get it done’ before practice. 

My houseplants live on our south-facing bathroom windowsill. The sun often shines brightly as I follow the same ritual each week. First, giving a mug of water to the prayer plant, a dash of water for the baby lemon tree and the money tree, and sometimes gently and purposefully wiping the dusty leaves with a damp cloth. This Saturday, after practice, I top up the water for the Sarracenia to sit in. This Sarracenia is extra special as I found it at a marked down price in the garden centre looking unloved and a bit forgotten. As I tend to it, I’m aware of how big the pitchers have become, and I notice it has its first ever flower bud – I eagerly rush to show my Husband! I finish by giving the orchid its weekly 10-minute ‘bath’ – the last bloom has finished and I’m excitedly searching for signs of a new flower spike. I feel Buddha’s presence when I’m here, in this spot, with the sunlight on my face. It reminds me that Buddha’s light is always there, he is always close, even when my mind feels full of cloud and the Buddha can seem so far from reach.

When talking about Buddhist practice, Satya reminds us that what we’re doing here is opening ourselves up to the experience of perfect love. It helps us know we’re moving in the right direction when we experience a little something, something that involves a ‘knowing’ or ‘joy.’ A simple task, such as tending to my houseplants has become a richer experience as my relationship with the Buddha evolves. My eyes fill with tears as I write, this is my ‘knowing’ and it brings me such joy.

Satya also talked of leaning in, just trusting…

…I just need to remember to call out, to lean in, to trust, and know that I can receive Buddha’s unwavering love, compassion, and acceptance of me and all my foolish ways. It’s right here, all around me.

Namo Amida Bu.

A Dharma Glimpse by Dayamay

When I was walking on the hill the other day I got bitten by a dog. I was wearing my favourite shorts and, thankfully, they bore most of the brunt. But I was left with a gaping, mouth shaped hole in the fabric, which at first looked unrepairable. The owner looked terrified as he apologized profusely and I felt like I wanted to make it easier on him, so didn’t make a fuss and carried on my way. I was gutted inside, as I knew that they don’t make the same style of shorts anymore; definitely not in pink!

The next day I decided to try and fix the shorts, despite the fact that I pretty much can’t sew to save my life. The hole now looks like a cornish pastie and stands out like a sore thumb.
Immediately after, I decided to wash my car, which was covered in dust from the recent dry spell. As I opened the passenger door the handle came off and fell in about 3 pieces on the car park tarmac. I felt frustrated and helpless and made my way down to Wilkos to get some glue. The handle went back on fairly successfully and I had a certain sense of accomplishment, thankful that I wouldn’t have to pay a lot of money for somebody else to fix it at a garage somewhere.

I thought about my beloved possessions and how, in some ways they reflect myself, my character, my life and my way of being in the world. It seemed like an act of self compassion to spend some time on and put some love into repairing my broken stuff, instead of discarding the shorts or palming the car off onto some grease monkey, who might have no sense of what it means to me.

I thought about how my external reparations might be considered a metaphor for the internal work that I’m engaged in at the moment. Taking care of all my wounded parts and helping to heal the internal system that constitutes my psychological landscape.

For me, these occurrences are never arbitrary, always loaded with meaning and quite intentionally sent to show us a deeper perspective on the bricks and mortar world that we live in! The recurring breaking and fixing might reflect the fragility and resilience of the human condition and how our efforts to fix ourselves are part of a greater work that includes both matters of the heart and the seemingly inanimate things that support us on our journeys.

Dharma Glimpse by Kaspa

This morning I have to send a new Chromebook back. We bought it to run Zoom practice sessions on and the network card isn’t good enough. I’ve been anticipating this with lots of resentment.

It took a long time to set up the Chromebook when it arrived (in retrospect, because the internet connection kept dropping, I imagine) and I have lots better things I could be doing with my time this morning, and, and….

As I was mulling this over just now a thought appeared. What if you could make this job into a form of prayer?

What would that look like, I wondered.

Saying thank you to all the processes and people and materials that went into creating this technology. Recognising the cost to the land for extracting these materials. Recognising the suffering of some people in this process.

Cultivating the intention to join people from far away with our Buddhist practice.

And perhaps something about dropping any of the words and simply approaching the job with some mindfulness and curiosity about how it is do be in relationship to this errand, to this Chromebook, to this cardboard box in this moment. Who knows what might come of that? (Some thoughts like the ones above, I guess, and perhaps something else as well.)