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Berkeley Buddhist Priory Newsletter
June – August 2011
The Story of My Life
by Ben Johnson
So runs my dream: but what am I?
An infant crying in the night:
An infant crying for the light:
And with no language but a cry.
Tennyson: In Memoriam
My stomach was queasy and my head hurt. The dark shadows
of night slowly transformed into grey shapes in the early morning
dawn. Clothes leaked from the open drawers of my massive
bureau. Cigarette butts, like little tombstones, had been dumped
by an upended ashtray on my bedside table. Books, loose papers,
crushed beer cans and dirty laundry strewn about my tiny room
revealed the chaos of my life. As the room gradually came into
focus a single thought formed in my mind: I was still alive.
As I rose and staggered from the bed I could hear a soft hissing
coming from the kitchen. A vague feeling of disappointment crept
over me as one by one, I turned off the gas jets of the ancient
stove and raised the window to let in the cold, January air. Seeing
the rolled towel under the front door, I noted with grim bemusement
that in last night’s drunken stupor I had neglected to wet it
so it would properly do its job in the drafty apartment. But such
details had not been on my mind then, only a tired resignation
and single-minded determination to at last quiet the years of
anguish and grief that had ached so painfully in my heart.
I was five years old when my mother died of colon cancer. My
older brother and sister have said they remember her screams.
For me, however, that memory is gone. But even now, when I
hear someone cry out in anguish, it is unbearable.
Later, when all the sympathetic friends and relatives had left us
alone in the house, my mother’s life evaporated. We never again
talked about her or about what had happened. The only evidence
of her was a single picture on my father’s dresser. All other pictures
had been put away in a closet. It was understood that we
should not take them out to look at them.
With the naiveté of a five-year-old, I wondered if she had done
something wrong and had been sent away, or even worse that my
father had somehow caused her death, and that she was buried
in the basement behind the furnace. I toyed with these thoughts
for some time, so inexplicable was her disappearance.
We were not allowed to visit her in the hospital during the last
days of her life. We could only wave to her from the street below
when she appeared in the window of her second story room. On
the last night of her life my brother and sisters and were left
alone upstairs in our house while my father was at the hospital.
We were talking about what was happening when we heard our
father come in the front door. We went to the banister overlooking
the staircase to see him. He climbed partly up the stairs, and with
his back to us his only words were: “She’s dead.”
My father remarried almost exactly a year after my mother’s
death. Later I realized it was a marriage of convenience, but I was
only six years old and glad to have someone who was affectionate
to me and sometimes gave me hugs. Also, I was glad to have her
son as a playmate to distract me from my loneliness.
A year later my father took my brother and sisters and me on
vacation. My new stepmother and her son stayed behind. When
we returned they were nowhere in sight. When I asked my father
where they were, all he said was, “They’re gone.” When I asked
when they were coming back he said with finality: “They’re not.”
We never spoke of them again.
I missed them terribly and prayed every night at bedtime for them
to come back. About a year later I called a friend who lived in a
nearby neighborhood to ask if we could get together to play. He
said, “I can’t,” and after a long pause he said, “Your brother Ernie’s
here.” I couldn’t believe the words coming out of the phone. I
had no idea he and Ernie even knew each other.
A while later I raced over to my friend’s house, thrilled at the
chance of seeing them again. My prayers had been answered. Pretending
I was ‘just dropping by,’ I knocked on the door. When my
stepmother opened the door she cried out in joy and wrapped me
in her arms in a big hug. We visited for a half hour or so until it
was time for me to leave. That was the last time I ever saw them. I
learned recently that they both died a couple of years ago.
After almost five years my father remarried again. It was also a
marriage of convenience. This marriage did last, but there was
always a certain distance, as if we were just two families sharing
the same house.
Throughout my childhood and adolescence I tried to make sense
of what had happened. I would read about death. I haunted
graveyards and mausoleums trying to imagine the people buried
there, as if looking at the cold, mute tombstones could somehow help me to understand where they had gone.
My father was not one to show real affection and kept his distance
by being boisterous and hearty, or by turning on us with
a severe look or harsh word. He seemed to have a dim and cynical
view of most people. He would chide me with ridicule for not
doing better in school. I think he was probably doing what he
thought best in trying to be tough and firm with his children, to
make them stand up to life. But his idea of encouragement was to
say to me, “Don’t be stupid, Ben.” To me he was just insensitive
and overbearing. He could grind you down by the sheer volume
and force of his words, or could cut you to the quick with a sharp
look. There were very few who could measure up to my father’s
standards, least of all a teenage boy. I will never forget that look
in his eyes of utter contempt.
I quietly hoped to somehow find a way to become a ‘person of
worth’ to my father. I tried to find some way to win his love and
respect, the criteria of which was always vague, even more so
during his late night tirades lubricated by generous quantities of
whisky.
As I grew older I became more and more distracted and depressed.
I could not focus very well on school or anything else. I
would make half-hearted attempts then just let it slip away. This
only added to my feeling of despair and worthlessness. Because
of my poor performance in school, I think my family thought of
me as mentally deficient.
In high school, I too, started drinking heavily, siphoning off some
of my father’s whisky each night after he had gone to bed.I knew
he would not remember how much he had drunk that night.
During those years I drank so much that after I left home and
was out of this situation, I could not stand the smell of whiskey,
much less the taste of it. There had been too many terrible hangovers,
too much waking up to a violent, throbbing pain in my
head with the room in a slow, nauseating spin as I tried unsuccessfully
to stave off vomiting.
By my senior year I was drinking to the point of passing out
several times a week. I had long given up making even a token
effort at school. There was a real danger that I would not be able
to graduate from high school. I did manage to graduate with the
help of the art teacher who was a friendly ally, and with the help
of the kindly history teacher who demanded that I let her tutor
me. My older brother was the only member of the family who
thought the miracle of my high school graduation worthy enough
to witness.
After high school I made a stab at college, but lasted only a year
and a half. I believe I had the distinction of having the lowest
grade point average of anyone at the university at that time.
I moved out of my parents’ house and did odd jobs around town
to support myself. At night I would go to a local jazz club called
The Dark Side. I loved the moodiness of the jazz and the night
life at the club, but I drank to the point of passing out nearly
every night. My depression grew so deep that I was barely functional
during the day.
A few months later a deep sense of resignation set in. I quietly
determined to put an end to it. The moment I slipped off the edge
into the abyss I really believed it was the end. When I found myself
unexpectedly back among the living, a kind of numbness set
in and I just kept going on because I didn’t know what else to do.
A while later a friend mentioned he was going to California. I
joined him and left my hometown for the unknown. When we arrived
in California I had no plan. I had only wanted to get away
from the miserable situation back home and the mess I had
made of my life. I didn’t really believe there was any way to escape
my past but I decided to go on anyway because I lacked the
courage to again try the alternative.
I quickly ran out of my meager savings and found a job at a
bookstore across from the U.C. Berkeley campus. I worked hard
not because I was such a diligent, responsible person, but because
I was desperately trying to hold my life together and keep
from falling back into the pit.
I discovered a eucalyptus grove on the campus across from the
bookstore. It had a small stream flowing though it and I took to
spending my lunch hours just sitting there quietly. I had had no
formal instruction in meditation, but by just sitting there I found
that all the bad memories and despair would subside for a little
while. I became interested in Buddhism. I read everything I could
get my hands and went to Dharma talks at the San Francisco
Zen Center. Although I didn’t understand a lot of the teaching,
there was something about it that was reassuring and seemed
grounded in common sense.
At first I thought meditation was a way to escape from the reality
of my life, but escape always proved short lived. There seemed to
be no end to the cycle of suffering and despair. Eventually I realized
I had to face my demons. This was very painful, but there
seemed to be little choice. Constantly, moments of despair would wash over me, filling me with dread and fear. All I could do was sit
still in the middle of it, gritting my teeth. Gradually I learned that
these were just feelings and memories, an echo of the past.
The Buddha’s first teaching was that the cause of suffering is attachment.
At first I thought of attachment in terms of addiction,
as in being attached to food or intoxicants. But later I realized that
attachment could also mean being stuck in the past or in dreams
of the future.
I had tried to reconcile what had happened but there was no resolving
it, no way to make it better. I was attached to this dream
because it was my mother. I wanted her to come back. I longed for
her love and warmth, but this could not happen because it was a
dream I longed for, and despair was the inevitable result.
Over the years I was able to see that there was more to my father
than I had thought. He was not a bad man. He had a great sense
of humor and he strove for honesty and integrity, qualities I came
to value highly. He had been in a difficult situation and he had
tried to make the best of it. Fortunately, towards the end of his life
we were able to reconcile, and for that I am very grateful.
We create the world with our thoughts. We build a story of what
we think our life is. Past events may seem vivid and painful, but
they are just memories that are like a scar from an old wound that
is still tender. I learned that no matter how many times it came
up, I could let go of the story that I had held so dear. I learned that
instead of replacing it with yet another story, I could open up to an
unfolding life, learning over and over to let go of expectation and
embellishment. And I discovered a whole new world that is much
greater than anything I could have imagined.
The Path is open and goes straight to the source.
The Heart is boundless and enfolds everything.
Darkness is a dream since the Light shines everywhere.
Since the whole universe is our home,
how can our hearts ever express our gratitude.
(Rev. Kinrei Bassis)
On the Resolve to Become a Buddha
by Rev. Master Seikai Luebke and
Rev. Master Phoebe van Woerden
At the time of taking the Precepts, a person publicly commits him
or herself to “train myself to refrain from killing, stealing, saying
that which is not true, etc. At the end of the ceremony, the
celebrant, who has witnessed this commitment, together with all
present, says: “You will become a Buddha in the future because
of the merit of this resolve.” Most of the time, for us, this seems
quite far away, and perhaps even an intimidating prospect. We
just want to get through life and learn to get a handle on our
temper, or our addictions, or our laziness. But even this entails
training ourselves, and is a project that will go on for the rest of
our lives. Once the coarser aspects of the untamed self have been
smoothed, the deeper and more subtle things will become visible,
and often that is the time when it is hard to continue. Are we going
to be satisfied with a little progress, or are we going to keep up
the practice and Be Buddha, on the long road to Buddhahood? A
Chinese meditation master in the Qing Dynasty, X’ing, an
Shixian, wrote a lovely exhortation to those who have started on
the Bodhisattva Path, to not give up when the going gets rough:
Do not, fearing difficulty, shrink back in timidity.
Do not, regarding this matter as easy, take it but lightly.
Do not, seeking a swift conclusion, fail to make a longenduring commitment.
Do not, through indolence, remain bereft of heroic bravery.
Do not, on account of being shiftless and spiritless, fail to incite yourself to bold action.
Do not, drifting along in customary fashion, continue to put it off for another time.
Do not, judging yourself to be foolish and dull witted, continue depriving yourself of resolve.
Do not, possessing only shallow roots of goodness, consider yourself to be an inferior person with no share in this.(On Generating the Resolve to Become a Buddha, Kalavinka Press.)
The old master gave these exhortations in recognition of the basic
human shortcoming of starting things, getting bored, lazy or lacking
commitment, half forgetting it and eventually giving up what
we’ve started. We’ve all done it; we’ve all made promises to ourselves,
New Year resolutions and the like, and promptly failed to
keep them. Practicing meditation and the resolve to train oneself to refrain from acts which have an unwholesome effect is no different:
we have to dig deep without ourselves and decide that this
is so important that we simply cannot afford to let it slide.
A remarkable change comes about in people who get over the
initial hump of finding out that meditation is not easy, and that
keeping the Buddhist Precepts is not something to be taken
lightly. We all encounter that resistance, and we all have to push
through it. It requires grasping the will, and persistence, and in
the process we start to exhibit something very deep and precious
that other people notice: solidity of character, integrity, and generosity
of spirit. These are human attributes that are not easily,
acquired; they are gained slowly but surely by means of practice
itself over long periods of time. They cannot be faked for long, and
this genuineness of character is far more valuable than money or
other forms of worldly success.
Can all of us become Buddhas? The answer to that is a definite
‘yes’. How do we do it? By practicing. It is actually that simple,
but we tend to lack sufficient faith that it is the absolute truth,
thinking instead that there must be some shortcut, there must
be something that we’re missing, and need to look for in another
religious path, or another kind of Buddhist practice than the one
we are currently engaged in.
Zen Master Dogen’s statement that “training and enlightenment
are one” is a way of stating that by just training oneself, one
manifests Buddhahood and exhibits enlightened activity.
Wherever we might happen to be on the path of training, this is
still true; we can have spent many years on the Bodhisattva path
of training, or we can have just taken the Precepts last week, and
it is equally true in both cases. Dogen also states that
“enlightenment ranges from time immemorial and is even now.”
This statement reaffirms that Buddhahood is ours for the taking
in the present, if we will only just put down whatever we cling to
or push away in our hearts, and just sit still within the truth.
Our Master taught us that the way to Buddhahood is gained
through the purification of past evil karma, through the purification
of mind and heart. To accomplish this is the work of a
lifetime, and one must be determined to make it ones life’s work
and not think that it can wait for some other more favorable time
that the one which is here and now. We all have something to
give, some talent or attribute that can bring happiness to others,
some ability to rescue or help living beings. By making that
offering of helping others, giving love and kindness, supporting
8 those around us with positivity and generosity of spirit, we set ourselves on the Bodhisattva path. By practicing meditation every
day, we continue to work on ourselves and do not get stuck with
the idea that selfless giving is the be-all and end-all of the spiritual
life.
I wrote to an old school friend of mine a few years ago, just to say
hello and get back in touch with him. He wrote back, was very
warm, and even went as far as looking at our website and reading
some articles that I had written. He said that while he found
much of what I had to say resonated with him – he is devoted to
his religion – the problem he saw with Buddhism is that it was
too focused on the SELF. This is a common misunderstanding,
which derives from simply not knowing what it means to deeply
and thoroughly train the self as the means to awakening a deeper
awareness of the truth of existence and how we can truly be of
use to others.
Many people who follow a spiritual path make the assumption
that the self, or selfish behavior is something to be gotten rid of
at all costs, since it is that which prevents us from knowing the
truth, or prevents us from drawing closer to God. Hence, over the
centuries, people have practiced asceticism as a means of defeating
the self, or devoted themselves so completely to selfless giving
that they have nothing left, in the end, for themselves and the
cultivation of their own inner spiritual lives. It is easy to see that
these two approaches derive from a good motivation and a desire
to find the deeper meaning of life. They fall off the mark because
they are one-sided approaches which are a bit too idealistic and
leave the practitioner with an imbalanced view and understanding.
The Buddha actually taught the Middle Path, which in this
instance implies that we not drain ourselves by means of an
idealistic concept of selfless giving, and not try to defeat the self
through extreme measures, but rather to take good care of the
self, and to slowly but surely convert it by means of a balanced
life, using primarily love and acceptance as the means of conversion.
This is something we can all do. It is within our individual capacities
as human beings, whether we are young and strong, or
older and correspondingly weaker. It takes steady effort, but it is
a balanced effort which does not go to extremes. From one day to
the next, it is the offering we make of our lives, the work we do,
the kindness we show to people, and the time we spend in silent
contemplation on ourselves, looking inwards to find the deeper
truths that can be found in the center of our being, and whichare awakened through the right balance of selfless giving and self
purification.
I often think to myself that every day that I live is the same day;
that is not to say that every day is the same old boring routine,
or that there is no linear movement of time, or that on some level
time does not exist (which is more of an abstract philosophical
idea). Rather every day is a good day, as Zen Master Keizan
wrote. Every day is the same in that all days are the opportunity
to practice being a Buddha, to give of oneself, to purify ones own
heart, and exhibit Buddhahood. As time goes on, we can start to
realize that this is IT, there is nothing more to realize and understand
than this. Then we are well on our way to full Buddhahood
Priory News
The Priory had some upgrades done to our interior during the
the past few months. The upstairs bathroom had a very badly
worn linoleum floor and it was replaced with a new vinyl floor.
We also replaced the toilets in both the downstairs bathroom and
the upstairs bathroom, putting in some impressively efficient
toilets. We also replaced the carpet in the small upstairs bedroom
with laminate flooring. We plan to replace all the carpets on the
second floor with wood laminate flooring. It will make the Priory
much easier to clean and be helpful to the many people who
come to the Priory with allergy problems which include myself,
Rev. Kinrei.
The head of the Order of Buddhist Contemplatives, Reverend
Master Haryo Young, visited the Priory from May 3 to May 12.
Rev. Master Mugo, also visited the Priory during that same period,
arriving from England on May 4. Rev. Master Mugo’s primary
job is overseeing the lay ministry on behalf of the Order.
They both shared the giving of the Sunday Dharma talk on May
8, and offered important teaching on both the Dharma and how
our religious Order functions. It is an honor and pleasure to have
these visitors.
We celebrated the Buddha’s birth at our yearly Wesak ceremony
on May 15. There was heavy rain that weekend and instead of
having the Wesak ceremony outside, we held the ceremony in
the Meditation Hall. Wesak was well attended so the hall was
crowded but everything went well. The morning ended with
a potluck lunch which many additional family members and
friends attending. It was wonderful to have the Sangha together
to express our gratitude to the Buddha and enjoy this Buddhist
holiday.
With Gratitude
Charity is one of the four wisdoms and demonstrates the Bodhisattva’s
aspiration. Deep appreciation and gratitude is extended
to all those who contribute their spiritual practice, money,
time, energy, and various gifts to the Priory. The generosity of
the entire Priory Sangha is what makes it possible for the Priory
to exist and for the Dharma to be freely offered to whomever is
interested.
In recent months, we have been given many generous gifts,
including books, dish detergent, paper towels, tissues and
toilet paper. . Providing monks with food is the traditional
offering given when coming to a Buddhist temple, and we
appreciate all the generous food offerings we have been given
which provide most of the food for the Priory. During the past
few months we have been given a number of prepared and takeout
meals. The Priory received these food donations of quiches,
pizza, vegetables, fruit, soups, soy milk, salad, salad dressing,
eggs, vegetarian burgers, rice, coffee, bread, teas, breakfast cereals,
olive oil, tofu, vegetarian meats, fruit juice, crackers, pasta,
nuts, cheese, chips, peanut butter, jam, sugar, raisins, chocolate,
cookies, candy, pies, and cakes. You are always welcome to check
with the Priory on what foods are currently needed.
Priory Meditation Retreats
June 18
July 16
August 13
September 10
Retreats are an excellent way to deepen our meditation and
training. The retreat begins at 8am and the day is a mixture of meditation, Dharma talks and Buddhist services. The retreat is over at 5pm. Please register in advance for all the retreats.
Helping the Priory and Work Days
Buddhist training is based not just on receiving the spiritual
benefits that Dharma practice provides, but also our own
willingness to cultivate gratitude and finding ways to make
offerings. Giving our valuable time to help with the work of the
Priory is very much needed if the Priory is to flourish. During
the past few months, Sangha members came by the Priory and
helped with many different tasks, such as gardening, cleaning,
cooking, construction, computer work, bookkeeping and
laundry. Please contact Rev. Kinrei if you wish to help; the
Priory always has plenty of work that needs doing. In addition,
the Priory has been having regular work days which have been
a great help with fixing up and maintaining the Priory and its
grounds. You are welcome to come to the Priory whenever you
can and offer your help. The next work days are scheduled for
Saturday, June 25 and August 27, from 9:30 to 3:00, but we
welcome everyone to help for whatever part of the day they can
come.
Spiritual Counseling
Rev. Kinrei is available to discuss your spiritual practice and to help you to better apply the Dharma to your life. Taking refuge in a senior member of the Sangha is an important aid in gaining a better perspective and deeper insight into our spiritual life. It is also helpful in learning to cultivate openness and trust. You are welcome to contact the Priory and arrange a time to meet.
Shasta Abbey Retreats
Attending a retreat at Shasta Abbey is an excellent way to deepen one's Buddhist life by living and practicing together with a large community of monastic and lay members of the Sangha. The introductory retreats are the recommended first step in practicing at the Abbey. For more information, you can go to their Web site at www.shastaabbey.org or contact the Shasta Abbey Guestmaster at (530) 926-4208 or at
guestmaster@shastaabbey.org.
Introductory Retreats
June 3–5, August 5–7
Silent Illumination: The Teaching of Great Master Hongzhi
June 19 - 26
Introduction to Serene Reflection Meditation Retreat
July 10 – 17
Meditation Retreat July 27 – 31
The Surangama Sutra Retreat August 21– 28
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