Buddhist Geeks

Vince Fakhoury Horn
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Evolving Dharma in the Age of the Network www.buddhistgeeks.org

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    Working Class Dharma

    Vince Fakhoury Horn speaks with Mushim Patricia Ikeda about working class dharma—from growing up as "the minority of Greensburg, Ohio" in a third-generation Japanese American family, to training in penniless Korean Zen temples where renovating the building was the practice. Along the way: bliss bunnies, samadhi junkies, mutual aid networks, and why affordability may be the grassroots issue of 2026. 💬 Transcript Vince Horn: Okay. So yeah, I think it was really the beginning of this year — I was teaching a retreat in Portugal with a friend. It’s our annual Pragmatic Dharma retreat. And while I was there, I had picked up recently this book called Emergent Dharma, by Dr. Sharon Suh, and I scrolled through the chapters, and I looked, and I went straight to yours, and I read it. That was the first thing I read, and I just loved hearing about your story. For me, some of the coolest part about the Dharma is hearing people’s, like, stories and their biographies and, like, their real lived experience of the Dharma, and I just felt that in your story in the chapter there — you’re talking about how you were raised, and your family, and where you came from, and how you started engaging with Buddhism, and just the whole story there, that I’ve heard now more of since I’ve gotten to know you better over this year. And really, I was just hoping we could talk about, you know, your story in part here, because the theme is working class Dharma. And when we last spoke, we decided that was a good kind of place to focus some of the conversation. But a lot of it is about your experience, really. Like, what does it mean to live in the, quote-unquote, working class in the modern world, and to also be a Dharma practitioner? And how different is that in a heritage Asian ethnic tradition than in a white convert tradition, which is more how Emily and I have come up? I think that’s an interesting conversation too, because now we’re talking about class and ethnicity — two different dimensions that are often interwoven, or braided. So anyway, could you share a bit about your story, Mushim? I know you come out of the Zen tradition, both in Japan and Korea, but how did you get into this? Was it a family tradition, or is it something that you came back to explore — like, the roots of your family’s tradition — later? Mushim Ikeda: Yeah, thank you so much, Vince. So I was born in Cleveland, Ohio in 1954, and I am, by our system — meaning Japanese Americans, by our system — a third-generation Japanese American. We count the first generation to be the immigrants, so those were my grandparents on both sides, and they’re the Issei — “ichi,” meaning one. My parents were the Nisei, meaning they were both born in the United States, and they were the Nisei — “ni,” two. Three is “san,” so I am Sansei, or third-generation Japanese American, by how we count. I was born in Cleveland, grew up in Ohio, because that’s where my father’s work took him. And we grew up very working class. In Cleveland, when I was born, my father sold Wear-Ever pots and pans from door to door, and then he got a job inspecting fruit and vegetables — perishables that were being shipped on the railroads — working for an independent company called the RPIA, Railroad Perishable Inspection Agency. And that took us down to the rural area between Akron and Canton, going a little bit toward the middle of Ohio, south of Cleveland. And most of my classmates in the public schools that I attended — I would say the majority of them were children of people from West Virginia who came north to Akron, then the tire capital of the world. Goodyear, Firestone, Seiberling — they were all there, along with Quaker Oats, which produced a very interesting smell when the wind wafted from Akron our way, with a mixture of burning rubber and toasted oats. That was the smell of my childhood. And the air pollution was incredible, producing magnificent sunsets. And that’s where I grew up. So my classmates were children of the tire factory workers for the most part, as well as some were children of the remnants of the dairy farms, the cow pastures in that area that were gradually turning into suburban housing tract lands and so forth. That was my childhood. We were in an all-white community, except for us. One of my teachers used to call our family “the minority of Greensburg, Ohio.” And at home, we had a very strong sense of who we were. We were Japanese American. We were not Japanese. We were certainly not white or middle-class Americans. We were working-class Japanese Americans. And little by little, my parents wanted us to go to college. They rose into the lower middle class, then vaguely towards the middle middle class. However, I realized as I’ve grown older that I was raised — so, this is to just be completely fair: I was formed by my parents, and I do have a prejudice, and their prejudice was against what they perceived as upper-class privileged people, which in this case meant mostly white Americans who would look down upon their fellow white Americans who had come up from West Virginia and worked in the tire factories, and certainly looked down upon us, since we were not privileged white Americans. So there we see, like, race, ethnicity, class, as always, are completely interwoven. And I freely admit I was raised to not be entitled and superior, and my parents would say snotty — like, in their words — a rich kid. Vince Horn: It seems like, immediately hearing you, the way you’re describing that, that sounds like a good thing. Mushim Ikeda: I hope so. Vince Horn: And I mean, there’s a clearly good dimension to what you’re describing that I so appreciate. I guess I’m relating to this — the way you described it, almost like there’s, like, a spectrum of experience here, where you’re talking about the white West Virginian expats who are coming over to Ohio. In terms of the sort of hierarchy of sort of caste, I guess, for lack of a better term. Mushim Ikeda: It is caste. Vince Horn: Yes. You have this sort of racialized caste system. And it seems like I can relate to what you’re saying from where I was formed, in this formation, you know. And it’s like, oh, I can see growing up with a Palestinian family, and I can see the racialized part of that, and the opportunities that were lost there, and the economic opportunities, and the bootstraps attitude — like, you gotta help yourself if you want any help; like, no one’s gonna help you. Like, all of those things were very formative. But at the same time, you know, my grandfather did well with that attitude, and he had resources. And I knew, like, I was never gonna be homeless, you know? And that was something — I had friends that didn’t have that same level of security. You know, to know that they had someone — that, you know, even if your parents, your single mom, couldn’t earn any money or got sick or something, you had people that could take care of you. That’s a huge level of security not everyone has. So I guess I’m relating to it from there — of, like, oh yeah, the further you’re down in the caste system, the less support you have, and the more, in a sense, it’s like up to you to kind of, like, hard-knuckle it through really adverse conditions that, you know, are imposed. Mushim Ikeda: Very much so. And of course, to state the obvious, we have the legacy in the United States of the World War II incarceration into internment and concentration camps of the Japanese immigrants and their children, the Japanese-American citizens. Vince Horn: Right. How did that specifically impact your family system? Mushim Ikeda: The way it impacted my family was that my mother grew up in Hawaii, on Oahu, near Pearl Harbor, and there actually is a family story, which is true — we have evidence. The attack was in the morning, and my mom’s mom, my maternal grandma, who was a Shin Buddhist practitioner — her husband, my grandpa, was a Soto Zen Buddhist practitioner. They had a mixed Buddhist marriage. So the family lore is that in the Pearl Harbor attack, Grandma was sitting on the toilet, and a giant shell, a bullet, came whizzing into the bathroom and went through the side of the porcelain enamel bathtub, and she came out screaming at the top of her lungs. Vince Horn: Oh, my gosh. Mushim Ikeda: And the family still has that unexploded ordnance. So she grew up in Hawaii, and there was no need to put the Japanese immigrants and their children into camps, because the island was a camp. What were you gonna do? Swim away? Everyone was under surveillance. Their homes were searched for illegal shortwave radios and enemy weapons. And so the joke, again, in my mother’s family, was that the FBI came, searched the house, and the kitchen was full of large knives — for cooking, of course — but they decided to confiscate my grandfather Sawada’s pocket knife as an enemy weapon. Vince Horn: Wow. Mushim Ikeda: I know. So they were like, “Ah, this is just completely stupid and asinine. Here we are.” And it was the community leaders in Hawaii — Buddhist priests, any kind of community leaders — who were arrested and taken to the continent for the concentration camps. But they were all under surveillance. So that was my mother. She was used to being under surveillance. However, they had food. And they stayed in their homes, under surveillance. And then my dad grew up on a farm in Indiana — the Ikeda Brothers Farm in Indiana — and there were too few Japanese immigrants and their children in Indiana and the Midwest, for the most part, to bother with. I think most of the deportations happened from California, and from areas with larger populations. That having been said, of course they were aware — my father’s people were aware of what was going on. And he always said that he had a memorable moment in his life when he was drafted into the Army in World

    Working Class Dharma

  2. 9 juil.

    Modern Buddhisms

    In “The Fourth Turning of the Wheel,” Vince Horn traces the Three Turnings of the Wheel of Dharma from early Buddhism to Tibetan Vajrayana, then argues we’re living through new turnings right now—the modern, postmodern, and metamodern waves of Buddhist practice—and asks what it takes to hold them all. Get access to the full Modern Buddhisms training cohort by joining the Pragmatic Dharma Sangha. 💬 Transcript Vince: So Modern Buddhisms — this title’s really in part inspired by my time at Naropa University. I should just say that up front, because being there for about four years or so in the mid-aughts really influenced me as a Dharma practitioner and then later as a teacher. When I started teaching, of course, my view had already been really molded and shaped in the halls of Naropa, you could say. Naropa was founded by a Tibetan Buddhist teacher named Chogyam Trungpa Rinpoche, who’s quite both famous and infamous for his influence on American Dharma. When I was a student at Naropa, one of the core offerings in the Religious Studies department, which is where I spent most of my time and where I got my degree, was called the First Turning, the Second Turning, and the Third Turning — the Turnings. There was a class on each one of them. I took the First Turning with Judith Simmer-Brown, who was an acharya, a teacher in that lineage, and a professor at Naropa. And it was cool to really learn in an in-depth way over six, seven months — a college class, you’re writing papers and reading a stack of books — in more depth about the tradition that I was in love with. And seeing it from the point of view, in this case, of this Tibetan model called the Three Turnings. As I said, Chogyam Trungpa was Tibetan, so this model was influential and informed a lot of the curriculum at Naropa. The Tibetan model of the Three Turnings emerges later in the evolution and history of Buddhism. So to talk about modern Buddhisms, we of course have to talk about historical Buddhisms too. We can’t just skip to the modern era — unless we’re being really hyper-modern, then we would. Then we’d be like, “Oh, yeah, it all began today. Here we are.” No. We’re going to actually kind of try to trace this back a little bit. And of course, this is such a huge area, with so much history and so many people involved, and I’m going to totally do it injustice by compressing things and making big, broad points and claims. So I just want to kind of apologize for that upfront. It’s kind of one of the things you unfortunately have to do to talk about a topic that’s so broad and make any sense at all, I think. So I’m going to try to make some sense without shredding apart reality here too badly. The way I understand it, and understood it then at Naropa, is that early Buddhism starts with the historical Buddha Siddhartha Gautama in Northern India, Nepal — modern-day Nepal. And there’s a particular kind of flavor to that early Buddhist philosophy, even as it starts to become diversified into many different schools. There were, like, 17 schools of early Buddhism intact at one point in India, just kind of all competing for meme share. And what we have now that’s kind of extant, that’s currently evolved from there, is just one of those 17 schools that came through: the Theravada school of early Buddhism. They called it the Path of the Elders, which is where most of my teachers had trained, in that lineage. This becomes known as early Buddhism, or what the Tibetans would later call the first turning of the wheel — the First Turning dharma. And why is it called the first turning? Because this is when the Buddha first taught his unique approach — what we call Buddhism now. And the wheel represents the teachings that the Buddha gave, the core of the teachings, which are the Noble Eightfold Path, sometimes compressed down to or simplified as the three trainings, the Threefold Training. The Threefold Training in what? In Ethics or Morality or Virtue, in Concentration, Meditation, and in Insight, Wisdom. These are the things that the Buddha taught, and this is the unique collection of trainings that made it Buddish. This is how you know the Buddish pattern, when you see these eight represented as the Threefold Training and this sort of unique constellation and specific ways of looking at things. In the Eightfold Path, we have two in particular that are quite important here, which are Right Intention and Right View. This is how we see and do the thing. This is how we’re seeing and doing it. So in early Buddhism there’s a particular view and intention that goes along with that view. The intention is to put an end to suffering. And the view is that it’s possible. Suffering does exist, but it’s possible to experience a cessation of suffering. The end of dukkha. And there’s a path that you follow to do that called the Eightfold Path. This is the view of early Buddhism. You’re stuck in samsara and there is freedom. It’s called nirvana. You can get out. You can have an experience of freedom. Later Buddhists don’t disagree on this point — they just disagree, I would say, on how far to extend it and how much to fall in love with our concepts about what’s happening here. The Second Turning — I remember at the very end of the First Turning course I took with Judith Simmer-Brown at Naropa, she basically delivered the big rug pull after learning all these models, the Four Noble Truths and the 12 Links of Codependent Origination — I mean, model after model after model. We’re just learning and reading texts and learning. And at the end she says, “In the next course, the second turning, they’re going to come through” — and just kind of point. And we read The Heart Sutra, and she’s like, “They’re going to point out that the problem with this whole edifice of early Buddhism is that people fell in love with their concepts and wanted to try to explain everything.” That’s what the Abhidhamma ends up becoming — this attempt to describe how everything is related. We’re going to describe and map the entire world of interdependent phenomena and describe everything in detail. And there was something about that that was problematic, which was the freezing or the reifying of that, and it said, no. Basically, like, no. This is not the move. And it negated that in a way that was meant to de-reify that tendency to kind of build mental sandcastles and to believe that our thoughts are the things that are real. And early Buddhism has this built in, in a way, because the early Buddhists say, “Here’s the right view. This is the way you need to understand things.” And that is an understanding of early Buddhism. You want to download this view and understand things this way. Practice in a way that you see that this is true — the three characteristics of experience. You want to see impermanence, see selflessness, see all this stuff. But the problem there is you’re taking the view quite seriously. It’s like, this is the right view. If you get too attached to your view — in the Second Turning, there’s a recognition that this becomes problematic, and we can describe this as emptiness: to let go of your fixed views. To realize, oh, this is more open and fluid. So the second turning emerges. It’s described in terms of non-duality of samsara and nirvana and the emptiness of views — of not believing there’s some thing over there called nirvana that’s separate from this experience of samsara. Cosmological dualism. Oh, no, that’s a problem. If that’s really true, we’ve got a problem here. The Second Turning releases the problem by pointing out that the problem is fixed dualistic thinking. Ah. Okay. Now we’re in the realm of non-duality. The view here shifts from the three characteristics in the First Turning — the Second Turning is about Emptiness and Interdependence. Compassion is just as important as wisdom in the second turning. I remember Shinzen Young explaining this in a way that really struck me. He said, “In the Second Turning, in Mahayana Zen, compassion has equal precedent — it’s equally important to wisdom.” In the first turning, wisdom was still kind of more important. It’s like an absolute teaching, and then you have the relative brahmavihāras, and there’s this sort of ranking where wisdom is kind of the highest. Here, it’s like, no, these are two dimensions of the same realization, or the same awakening. Bodhicitta. One awakening heart-mind. So, to me, this is like a correction. This is an evolution, right? And this is how it’s kind of explained in later Buddhism. This is an evolution of the tradition. What’s so interesting about the Third Turning teachings in Tibetan Buddhism to me is that they understand their own tradition as having what we would now call evolved. They didn’t use that word, evolve, and maybe they have a different understanding of it than I do. But it’s so interesting to me that they see the revolutions of the turnings. I love John Vervaeke — he’s a scholar and a cognitive behavioral therapist and psychologist at the University of Toronto. He says, “Evolution is revolution with change.” That’s the way he defines evolution. Well, the turnings are just this revolving wheel of people understanding Buddhism in new ways, in different ways over time, over a thousand plus years, two thousand plus years. The three turnings model in a sense is the tradition’s first understanding of itself as an evolutionary development. It’s something that’s evolved over time, and you can kind of look back — and what do they do in the three trainings? They say they’re all important. They don’t just reject them. In some sense you could say the Second Turning is a rejection of the First Turning, right? Or it’s a negation of it. You can understand that. Of course, when you negate something, you affirm it. That’s also import

  3. 3 juil.

    The Cost of Silence

    In “The Cost of Silence,” dharma teacher Vince Horn and guest Daniel Klein trace what it costs us—psychologically, relationally, economically, and spiritually—to withhold the truth, arguing that the small silences of the dinner table are the same debt that scales into complicity with collective harm, asking what it takes to finally stop paying it. 💬 Transcript Vince Horn: So, welcome back to the Insight Diaspora. I’m your host, Vince Fukuri-Horn. Good to be here with you again in this exploration of ... I don’t know, what is it exactly we’re exploring here, Daniel? You have to tell me. Daniel Klein: I think it’s going to be an emergent phenomenon. Vince Horn: Great. Okay. Another of those emergent phenomenons. So, no, looking forward to this conversation genuinely. We are talking about the cost of silence today. And for a little background, Daniel and I had a conversation prior to this that we aired through Buddhist Geeks, and it was called The Cost of Truth. And there we were sharing some reflections from both of our experiences, in very different positions, in this sort of Israel-Gaza — I don’t even know what to call it anymore — kerfuckle. This situation is just terrible. We’re coming at it from different places, but both had this experience of speaking up and saying things that weren’t super welcome by our social groups. And so we’re talking about the cost of that, and what happens when you speak up even though it’s not really welcomed. Today we want to explore the other side of that equation, which is the cost of not speaking up, because we also both have had that experience as well. And it’s not like we suddenly woke up one day and were like, “Okay, I’m going to speak the truth about everything, no matter what.” We’re both social humans, so we have gone through a process of learning how to speak what’s true for us. And I imagine Daniel, like myself, is still going through that process. So we wanted to talk about that today. And also, just before we jump in, I want to say a word about generosity. I’m not a huge fan of the generosity talks and Dharma things. I’ll be honest with you. It always felt weird and cringey to me. Now that I’m on the other end of it, it’s a different matter, of course. And Emily was reminding me that the Buddhist teachings start with the practice of generosity. If you look at the 10 perfections, the 10 Paramis, which are these 10 things we’re cultivating on the path, the first one is generosity. So it’s sort of foundational. And it’s foundational to this project as well. We’re doing this out of the generosity of our own hearts. We’re organizing this and having these conversations and wanting to talk about things that are not super comfortable sometimes, or popular. And we’re putting a lot on the line to do that. And we’re asking, for folks that find this valuable, to meet us there, and to see generosity as a mutual process. And so, with that in mind, I just wanted to highlight that there are really two ways, in terms of financial support, that you could consider supporting us today. One is by supporting this project directly, the Insight Diaspora, which runs through the Buddhist Geeks organization, which is an educational nonprofit. There’s a link in the chat if you wanted to become a supporting member of this project; you could do that. That money goes directly to supporting our guests. We donate to our guests to support their livelihood, and it supports us as organizers as well. And then I also wanted to highlight this organization that Daniel’s associated with. Each of these meetings, we want to highlight good organizations that are doing good work in the world. And so I wanted to mention the Soulforce Project, which promotes social justice using music and the arts. And I thought maybe, Daniel, if you could say something about this, because I know they’re your friends. Maybe what the Soulforce Project is about. Daniel Klein: Well, one of the ways that I describe them is that they’re doing the work that we’re doing, but they’re operating at the level of arts and culture. So how do we promote deep transformational work in the field of liberation and collective liberation by bringing together world-class musicians to facilitate these experiences? Run by an amazing, amazing sitar player— Vince Horn: Hmm. Daniel Klein: —who I’ve done a couple events with actually in my own home. So he’s a dear friend. Vince Horn: Okay. And is this a California-based organization as well? Daniel Klein: Yeah, Altadena. Vince Horn: Okay. Great. Awesome. And just for context, you’re based in southern California, I believe? Daniel Klein: Yes. Yeah, Los Angeles. Vince Horn: Yeah. Sorry to hear that. Having lived in Los Angeles. No, it’s a beautiful place. Daniel Klein: I’m in my little bubble. I very rarely leave my living room, and it’s very beautiful up here in Topanga. Vince Horn: Okay. Oh, yeah, you really are. Topanga is a bubble. So yeah, that’s the way to do it if you’re going to live in LA. Good. Well, again, Daniel, thank you so much for being here. This is such a delight to talk to you again. Daniel Klein: Thank you all. Vince Horn: Yeah. So I wanted to start with a quote, if that’s cool with you, Daniel, and just have you, I guess, riff on it or respond. This is the main thing that came to my mind when inquiring about the question of the cost associated with not speaking up, or not saying something which is true. This comes from a book called Trauma and the Unbound Body, by Judith Blackstone. And she says, “Children may be faced with a terrible choice: truth or love. They can limit their own senses and intelligence and be cozily embraced by the family, or they can stick to their view of reality, shutting down their heart instead of their wits and enduring the family rejection.” Daniel Klein: Hmm. Vince Horn: Yeah, you can probably see why I brought this quote up. Daniel Klein: Yeah. Very, very powerful. Very powerful indeed, because I think that it’s really in childhood that we first incur this trauma of: there is a cost associated with speaking the truth. And from my own experience as a child, that’s where my own personal self split. The authentic self, and then all of the walls and masks that I needed to perform and to put up in order to be accepted by my family — and this goes deep into our deepest abandonment and rejection wounds. Vince Horn: Yeah. Daniel Klein: And in many ways it’s these small things, obviously, that start in childhood that then scale to mass atrocities. And I always say that, “Genocide starts at the dinner table, not in the halls of politics.” Vince Horn: That’s a powerful statement. I’ve heard you say that before, actually. Yeah. How did you experience that, growing up in the West Bank? Because we talked about last time how you kind of made a break from the society and culture that you were in, in a certain way. But what happened prior to that? How was that at the dinner table? Daniel Klein: Yeah. It’s really interesting, because this process of telling the truth is a very long process. Because very often we think things, and we already have this inner clarity, but then to get to the point where you reckon with these truths publicly, there’s this in-between stage, and that’s the stage of the silence where the real suffering is happening, where you’ve had this internal shift, but you are completely misaligned on the outside. And so when it comes to genocide at the dinner table, that’s the stage where people around you could start saying really shocking things. I recall a specific conversation where a close and immediate family member was laughing at the starvation in Gaza, and there was a news headline that said that a turtle had washed up on shore. And this immediate family member said, “I thought they’re starving, they can eat the turtle.” And that’s just really the kind of joke, the kind of comment that somebody can drop. And when you’re in this in-between stage, there’s this nodding along that you have — “Hmm. Hmm. Okay.” — because you can’t really speak about it. And that’s where you’re already caught in this trap and in this cycle. Vince Horn: Yes. I’m super familiar with that. As you know, now living in the US, for the last decade or so the political polarization has been super high, and it affects these kind of dinner table relationships, where people seem like they suddenly became aware, “Oh, some of my family members are saying really awful stuff about immigrants or about people.” It’s not that they hadn’t been saying those things before. People become more bold and are willing to speak up and start to push back against stuff. But then that seems like it can lead very quickly to just the whole family system falling apart, or relationships getting strained because people start arguing about ideology. Does that make sense? It seems like there’s extremes there, like just being totally quiet, or just fighting with everyone. Daniel Klein: Yeah, and ultimately it’s all relational. The way I see everything is relational. And so there’s no doubt that when you introduce truth into a relationship that was built fundamentally on the performance or the preservation of untruth, when you introduce that into the family system, there is an inherent collapse that happens. And even though you might see the fracture, it’s actually just revealing that it was fractured all along, and you’ve just been playing along in this fractured system. And when we were thinking about the cost of truth, I was thinking into it in my own life that the cost of truth is the cost of silence. They’re two sides of the same coin. The only difference is that the cost of truth is the cost of silence paid with interest. And so the moment you choose the path of silence, or not speaking truth, that’s the moment where the conv

  4. 26 juin

    Dharma & Empire

    In “Dharma & Empire,” Mary Thanissara and Vince Fakhoury Horn trace how the structures of Empire occupy not just land but the psyche—moving from their own Irish, Palestinian, and colonial family histories to Gaza, climate, and class—and ask what a more revolutionary Dharma might require of practitioners right now. 💬 Transcript Vince Horn: So Thanissara, thank you again. Great to be here with you. Thanissara: Likewise, likewise. Really, really thrilled to plunge into this Insight Diaspora. That was a brilliant capturing of our wandering, homeless group. Vince Horn: Yes, indeed. I was curious too. I know you started off in the Ajahn Chah tradition — in the Thai Forest Tradition — as a nun in the ‘70s, and I think you were a nun for like 12 years, when I was reading. So that’s a long time. Thanissara: Yeah. Vince Horn: Do you consider yourself part of the insight meditation tradition, or were you coming up at the same time that that whole thing was coming up? Thanissara: I’ve never really designated a category for myself, other than a Dharma practitioner in quite a broad sense. And having said that, most of the development of my practice has been guided through, first of all, the U Ba Khin lineage, which was transmitted to Goenkaji — those teachers were my first teachers from Burma, Myanmar. And then through Ajahn Chah, and that was a very pivotal formation of my practice, because I was young and very shaped by that lineage and the premise that they were teaching from. And then since leaving the robes, I’ve almost entirely taught and practiced within the lay insight world. That’s been a constant adaptation and inquiry, and not a particularly easeful landing. Well, none of it’s been an easeful landing, because it’s all in transition and having to be translated on so many levels. So I guess there’s no end to that in the Dharma. Vince Horn: That really fits with how I’ve interpreted your work from afar for many years. I’ve always heard you and Kittisaro’s name mentioned together, and I’ve heard about the work you’ve been doing in South Africa and other places with activism. It has always felt like it’s been a little bit on the emerging edge of the insight tradition. You’re not quite inside, but you’re not outside either. You’re influencing but not quite. You all seem to be strange attractors in this community. And I mean that in the best possible way. Thanissara: No, it’s a good position to be in, I think, in terms of having space from having to conform, and also being able to help shift some of the parameters of what’s allowed to be discussed or what the Dharma is, from within. Also relationship to the folks that I’ve grown to know so well in that movement — having taught a lot or discussed things over many, many years. So there’s a relationship where both being in and out is an awkward reality. Vince Horn: Yeah, and I can relate to that. Thanissara: A sense of tension around that, and creativity maybe. Vince Horn: Yeah, it’s like generative tension sometimes, and other times it’s just tension. That’s my experience anyway of what you’re describing. Thanissara: Yeah, totally. Vince Horn: So we spoke recently for the first time privately, and I think it was interesting to me that the first thing we got into was our family histories. It seemed like there’s no way to really avoid talking about that. Not that I want to at this point, but we both share ancestry from the UK, from Ireland, and I know your family moved at some point to London as well. You mentioned to me that your dad was in the military and that he was posted at some point in Palestine, I believe it was. Thanissara: Yeah. Well, he was a teenage conscript. But he was trying to really escape the poverty that he grew up in, in the tenements of Dublin — which were quite infamous, and still somewhat, although they were closed down in the 1960s. And the oppression, I think, that he felt, even though Ireland was in a process of liberating itself post the 1916 uprising, and then the liberation that started about when he was born, really, 1925 or so. But it wasn’t very liberated for him. So it’s complex, and I think that’s one of the very interesting things about being both colonized, and yet shape-shifting to find a way out through becoming part of, at that time, the war effort of the Second World War. Which was a movement of idealism, but it was a movement of some feeling of needing to break set from not only the economic oppression, but the religious oppression that he grew up under. Of course, the Catholic Church was both extremely oppressive, and it was also the place that people went to for support, to find solace from this unrelenting violence and oppression that had gone on for so long in Ireland under the British. So in that process, he was posted to Palestine and around many places in the so-called Middle East. And I didn’t really know that until quite recently, actually. My elder brother is the holder of history, and somehow in discussion it came out that he was actually posted. And it was very meaningful for me. It’s like, oh my goodness, that he — and apparently one of the things he talked about that my brother remembered was the Irgun, the terrorism that was going on from the early Zionists that were settling. And of course they were also fighting the British as well, blowing up British posts and things. So that was obviously something that really went deep for him in his memory bank. But he never really talked much about any of that, as that generation didn’t. Vince Horn: Right. Thanissara: We have probably in common a lot of lost stories, as people shape-shift and assimilate. And there was also a lot of shame for the Irish fighting for the British, particularly in the Second World War. And it was hard to go home. There’s a lot written about that. They were displaced again in another sort of way, because at that point Ireland didn’t join the war effort — they didn’t want to align with the British. So it was a very complex political dynamic that was going on. Vince Horn: Yeah, that is complex. And it shines a light on the contemporary situation where Ireland is one of the few countries, and their leaders are one of the few, that actually consistently speak up on behalf of Palestinian people. They can empathize with the situation. Thanissara: Deeply, deeply. So much was shaped by so much bitterness. I mean, if you go to the west — where, when Kittisaro and I were first together, we stayed in County Mayo, which is on the far west coast of Ireland — they still talk about the great hunger as if it was yesterday. Vince Horn: Wow. Thanissara: You still see the little crofting houses that were the Black and Tans, who were very, very brutal. In fact, I think they were sent to Palestine after Ireland. You can still see where they pulled down the houses of people and threw them out as they were starving. And I still think — this is another issue — there was such a big silence about the shame of the deprivation of that. It’s only very, very recently that some of the most awful aspects of the impacts of that constructed famine or starvation, really a genocide by the British, are being discussed. While they were exporting food, and it was very, very desperate, and in the workhouses. And then part of the silence was — I remember when Frank McCourt came out with the book Angela’s Ashes, which was a while ago, but it was portraying this period of history in Ireland, the same time when my father grew up, of this extreme poverty and the struggle. And the whole of my Irish family were very upset by this, because they felt ashamed. They were like, “No, it was like —” But in fact, that portrayed some of the conditions that they were struggling with as well in the tenements. So all of these add to the complexity of lost stories, broken lineages. It’s how empire really shapes identity — not just the occupation of land, but the occupation of psyches. And how that takes up real estate in the imaginal levels of people understanding themselves, and how it shapes language and accents and lost histories, and coming to England, having to change the accent, having to pretend to be — It’s such a different — it’s like oil and water, these two cultures of Ireland and especially southern England, where he was. So in the 1950s, where things were very rigid still, late ‘40s, 1950s, when he got married, and then as post-war happened, people had families very quickly. There was no birth control, but also there was a deep reaction to all the horrors and death that was going on. Vince Horn: In terms of the story level, the way that I connect with what you’re sharing from my own background is — I’ve often thought recently that it was probably my grandmother’s experience of being — her father was Irish, from Northern Ireland, and immigrated to Canada, I think, in the late 1800s. And then my grandfather is Palestinian. I often think it’s her Irish background and his Palestinian background that allowed them to form a mixed-race couple in a time period where it literally had just become legalized, a year before or something, and it was still frowned upon culturally. What actually brought them together — it seems like they had some kind of trauma bond there. They probably weren’t conscious of that, but I can sort of see the complexity of what you’re describing there, where it’s not something you could see on just the surface of things. You’d have to understand some of the history to get what connects people. Thanissara: Totally. I think the trauma is such a splitting that you’re sort of like lost beings finding each other in this space. Perhaps you don’t consciously understand exactly. It’s a dynamic of consequence. It’s the consequences of what’s gone before, but you haven’t yet got the story or the history, or it hasn’t landed

  5. 7 mai

    The Most Slept-On Meditation Object

    In “The Most Slept-On Meditation Object,” Vince Horn introduces the kasina — the visual concentration object that dominated Early Buddhist practice yet is barely used today — and lays out a 12-week curriculum that maps color & elemental kasinas onto the full arc of the eight jhānas, and then finishes with the technodelic practice of breath kasina. Interested in the topic?Sign-up for free the KASINA web applicationor join us for a live training in the Pragmatic Dharma Sangha 💬 Transcript Vince Horn: So welcome to Kasina. The backdrop for this practice, as you all know — this is really meant to be a concentration-based practice. So when I zoom back out to kind of the bigger picture for me, looking at all the different ways we could meditate, this is one technique that is part of the approach that I would just simply call concentration. And concentration for me is the practice of bringing attention to a single point, the result of which is unification. We become one with the point of focus. We become fused or merged, you could say, with the object. Of course, there’s a gradual process by which that happens. It’s not that we instantly merge, although sometimes that can happen. And the kasina in this case is a visual orb or a circle. It is literally a visual point. It literally translates — the word — into English as All, Whole, or Complete. That’s the meaning of the term kasina. And it occupies a really important place in the Early Buddhist tradition. It’s listed in the Visuddhimagga, which is an important commentary, a commentarial text that was written a thousand years after the time of the Buddha, but is kind of like a super hardcore nerdy meditation manual. In that manual, it lists 40 different meditation objects that you can use to train your concentration, and to go deep in concentration. And a full quarter of these 40 are these visual kasina objects. So it’s literally the most common object you’d see in the Early Buddhist tradition. And yet you’ll notice in modern times, it’s one of the least commonly used. So that’s quite interesting. I think because of that, kasinas are one of the most slept-on meditation objects in modernity. We’re somehow not tapping into the tremendous power of using the visual processing systems that we all are born with, which actually dominate our nervous system. Looking into this, researching this, I found out 30 to 40% of the brain’s cortex is wired for vision. Compare that to hearing, which is only 3 to 5%. We are deeply visual beings. Under typical conditions, actually, vision uses 5 to 10 times more bandwidth than touch, which is the second most bandwidth-intensive sense. Neurobiologically, we are actually deeply wired to see. And also from a neurobiological perspective, circular orbs make really good concentration objects, and there seem to be a few reasons for this that I’ve been able to kind of detect. One is there’s a really similar parallel between our eyes and the shape of our eyes and the shape of the kasina. Your retina is basically circular, and lenses in our eyes focus light in concentric rings, so the round shape of the kasina maps neatly onto the geometry of our eyes. And like I said earlier, so much of our brain is actually wired for visual processing, and the early visual neurons are tuned to detect edges and symmetries. In the visual processing, that’s among the first things that happen — we detect edges and symmetries. Circles, of course, are pure symmetry, so there are no sudden directional shifts when you’re looking at a circle. The signal is much more clean and predictable. This is another reason I think the kasina is such a powerful object. We also have to consider how attention — human attention — has evolved. Here, smooth, continuous boundaries tend to stand out against jagged, natural edges. Think rocks, branches, trees. So if you see things like berries or fruits or faces, the Sun, the Moon — all of these natural objects that humans have been evolving with — we evolutionarily can reward these things with quick detection, because they’re important for our survival. And then finally, I just note that when you’re resting your attention on a circle, there’s no privileged starting point. There’s no point at which your attention can look and be like, “Oh, that’s the point that you start with.” So your eyes don’t keep darting to all the angles and ends. Actually, they kind of do. I’ll share from my own experience: I’ve noticed, as I rest my attention in the kasina, if you get focused, you can actually start to see the ways your eyes are constantly, very rapidly looking for edges. And you’ll see, actually, in the circle — this is my experience — you’ll see in the circle all of these sort of edges at the very edge of the circle constantly being re-perceptualized. But because there isn’t any privileged edge to stay with, your mind can kind of rest more in the circle itself, so it’s easier to hold in meditation. So these are some of the reasons I think the kasina is a really natural object to focus on, and that we are, in a sense, hardwired to be able to. I suspect that’s why in early Buddhism, 10 of the 40 objects were kasinas. And I suspect also, based on what you all have shared and just kind of thinking more deeply about this, in some ways, maybe this is why kasina isn’t the most popular form of meditation, because it potentially is too effective, right? If you have an experience where suddenly things get really intense or trippy, like you’re tripping on psychedelics, you might be like, “Oh, whoa, wait a second. Let me chill for a minute. I’ve got to go to work in the morning.” “I’ve got to go on a date tonight,” or whatever. “I’ve got to take care of the kids, take care of dinner.” Yeah, that actually could be quite disruptive. If you’re a meditator or monk living a thousand years ago in a monastery and everyone around you is just constantly tripping out on things, it makes sense. But in the modern world perhaps, it’s a little bit disruptive to get into such deep concentration states so rapidly, or maybe we just don’t have a reference point for it with other objects of concentration, so it’s maybe a little scary. I could totally see that. So just want to kinda honor the reality of that. The way I want to approach this training together in kasina — we have 12 weeks from here, and I’ve kinda laid out the kasina training in a very specific kind of curriculum. The first eight weeks will just be focused on working with visual kasina, and each week we’re going to move between different kasinas. We’re going to try a different object. Now, that doesn’t mean that I’m suggesting that you all should be following along with your own personal practice with that kasina, although if you do that, you’ll probably get some benefits. You’re very welcome to engage with this content in whatever way seems appropriate to your practice, just as a reminder. I know you’ll do that anyway, but you don’t have to make this your primary practice while you’re doing it if something else is primary. But of course, the more you engage with the practice, the more you’ll learn. In the first four weeks, I want to focus just on the arc called the Rūpa Jhāna arc, so focusing on the first four jhānas. So each week we’ll both cover a different kasina — in the first four weeks, we’ll focus actually on the color kasinas, just simple visual orbs that are made of a solid color. We’ll start with Red in the first jhāna, then we’ll move to Yellow in the second jhāna, Blue in the third jhāna, and White in the fourth jhāna. And I have some reasonings for that. I think that’s kind of the best matchup that one can make between the actual colors and what they evoke, according to tradition and my experience, and the qualities of each of these jhānas. So we’ll both be exploring the jhānas as we go along, exploring these progressively more subtle states of meditative absorption, while also exploring different kasina objects that seem to pair nicely with each jhāna. In the second four-week chunk, you could say, of the training, we’ll shift toward what are called elemental kasinas. Some of you mentioned practicing with a candle flame, the classic fire kasina. Here we’ll turn toward using elements to help us access what are called the arūpa jhānas, the formless jhānas, the fifth, sixth, seventh, and eighth jhānas. So week 5, we’ll focus on the earth kasina and use that to scaffold our way into infinite space. What? Earth and infinite space? Those seem like opposites. Yeah, in a way they are, but there’s longstanding tradition in — actually, multiple practice traditions I’m aware of — where you can use the earth element to help you get connected more with space. In this case, we’ll work on sort of expanding the earth element to include all of space, and then removing the earth element. And what’s left when you remove the earth? Space. With week six, we’ll shift toward the water kasina, and we’ll use the reflective quality of water as a way to explore the jhāna of infinite consciousness, which is very similar in terms of the mirroring, the containing everything without being anything, the fluidity of consciousness, the fluidity of water. In the seventh week, we’ll shift to the fire kasina, and explore the jhāna of nothingness. Fire consumes, turns everything into formlessness, you could say. And then finally, in the eighth week, we’ll focus on the air kasina, but we’ll use an interesting kind of Tibetan Dzogchen-inspired imagery, which is the rainbow on blue sky to explore the kasina of neither perception nor non-perception. Air is the most subtle element. As you know, it’s invisible, known only through its effects, and the rainbow, something perceived but not there, a pure perceptual event with no location or s

  6. 4 mai

    Focusing on the Fire Kasina

    In Focusing on the Fire Kasina Vince Fakhoury Horn introduces the Fire Kasina meditation practice, emphasizing the primacy of concentration and the recursive process of learning through focused attention on a candle flame. Interested in the topic?Sign-up for free the KASINA web application or join us for a live training in the Pragmatic Dharma Sangha 💬 Transcript Vince: All right, so today we’re going to be diving into the practice of the Fire Kasina, and I’m excited to share this with you in part because it seems like it was a really important part of my own teacher’s practice—my first meditation teacher, Daniel Ingram. When I was reading his book for the first time, I remember him talking about how he went on retreat and worked with the candle flame at the end of a long vipassana retreat. Later on, that story was shared again in the beginning of a book called The Fire Kasina, which I’d recommend. It was a conversation—a dialogical book—between him and Shannon Stein, an experienced meditator who was talking to Daniel during her own replication of his long Fire Kasina retreat practice. It gives some great instructions in that book—a good overview of the practice and the kind of stages that one can go through. Not universal, perhaps, but fairly common. It also gives some really good, basic, practical pointers on how to do concentration practice. And this is one of the two frames that I’d like to share today in exploring the Fire Kasina, because I think it’s useful. I’m going to start here and then loop back around, because it’s so important that it bears returning to. So here’s what Daniel said in The Fire Kasina book to Shannon, as she asked for basic instructions on how to do the Fire Kasina. He said, “Concentration on what is happening is more important than what is happening.” What does that mean? It seems pretty simple in a way, but it’s deceptively simple, because we just seem to keep forgetting this important point when we do the practice. So what does it mean to me? “Concentration on what is happening” means that what we’re focusing on is more important than whatever is happening there. So if we’re focusing on our breath—the classic meditation object—then whatever’s happening with the breath is what’s happening. We could think, “Oh, I wish my breath were really soft and gentle,” or, “I wish my breath had stopped, because I heard that when it stops, that’s a good sign of concentration.” Okay, cool—but what is actually happening? Because what might be happening is you might be thinking about your breath instead of noticing your breath. This is the simple way we get lost in concepts about what’s happening instead of being with our meditation subject. So: concentration on what is happening is more important than whatever’s happening. That’s the most important thing to remember. What does that mean in terms of Fire Kasina? Here, I think it’s really useful to consider that whatever you’re seeing is what you’re seeing. You may be looking at a candle flame, and you may see all kinds of things—eyes open or eyes closed. In the guided practice to come, I’ll offer instructions for both. When that’s happening, it’s important to just remember: whatever you’re seeing is what you’re seeing. That’s what’s happening. It might be really clear and vivid, which makes it easy to see. Other times it might be unclear, murky, dull, or hazy—and that’s what’s happening. That’s what you’re seeing. Concentration on what’s happening is more important than what’s happening. The other thing that’s useful to remember in this practice is something John Vervaeke, the professor from Toronto, said: “Evolution is revolution with change.” Evolution is a process where we take something that we go through again and again—a recursive process—and something changes in the recursion. With learning and doing a practice like this, what’s the recursion? It’s the concentration feedback loop. It’s the loop we go through every time we work on strengthening our concentration. We select an object and engage with it—in this case, the candle flame. Then at some point, our mind fragments or we get distracted and lose clarity around what’s happening. We have to recognize that, remember to return, and we do that—we come back. That’s the basic feedback loop: we engage with an object, we get distracted or fragmented, we recognize that’s happened, we recollect, and we return all of ourselves back to the meditation subject. In this case, back to the candle flame. If you’re working with the afterimage and get lost with eyes closed, you can always return, open your eyes, and look at the candle flame again. That’s one way to do it. “Evolution is revolution with change.” As we go through this learning loop many times, even if it’s subtle fragmentation and subtle returning, we’re learning in each loop. Each time, we have an opportunity to understand what’s happening in the process. “Oh wow, every time I do this after lunch, it’s harder.” Okay—then be more patient with yourself. That’s part of the limitation of being human. Or, “I keep noticing this subtle recurring pattern.” Great, there’s something to pay attention to. Each time we do the practice, we’re learning—and that’s evolution. Because to me, I don’t really know what the difference is, from the point of view of being a person. Evolution is just learning how to be better in this situation—with whoever I’m with and whatever’s happening, even if it’s just with a candle flame. Here, we’re learning to be with the candle flame. To focus. To learn through what happens—what grabs our attention, what it’s like to let go, and what it’s like to return. Interested in the topic?Sign-up for free the KASINA web application or join us for a live training in the Pragmatic Dharma Sangha Get full access to Buddhist Geeks at www.buddhistgeeks.org/subscribe

  7. 29 avr.

    Access Concentration and the Kasina

    In Access Concentration and the Kasina, Vince Fakhoury Horn explains how kasina meditation cultivates stable attention by letting a visual object fill awareness until it naturally enters the foreground of experience into a state known as access concentration. Interested in the topic?Sign-up for free the KASINA web application or join us for a live training in the Pragmatic Dharma Sangha 💬 Transcript Vince: There is this really important idea in the Buddhist meditative tradition. It doesn’t come online until, I don’t know, a thousand years into the Buddhist tradition’s evolution, but it’s still an important concept today, which is the idea of Access Concentration. And the idea of “Access” simply means that when we get into the state, we then have access to the jhānas. That’s why it’s called Access Concentration. But it’s a little weird and abstract. So for me, I simplify my own definition of what this means. For me, it’s very simple: it’s when the meditation object—the thing you’re focusing on—moves into the foreground of your experience, and distractions and other things that are pulling you from that move into the background. So it’s a flip—a foreground-background flip of attention. And it doesn’t mean that there aren’t other things that grab your attention. It doesn’t mean that you can’t get lost. Of course, you can fall out of the state; something else can grab your attention and have most of it. But the basic idea here, with the kasina—since we’re using a visual orb as our focal point—is that when we’re in Access Concentration, it means the kasina has most of our attention. Of course, it’s not always easy to know when it has most of your attention, but you can just get a feel for it when you work with the kasina. When does it feel like most of your attention—if you have 100% of your attention available—is in the kasina, is present there in the orb, and less than 50% is elsewhere: in your body, with the surrounding environment, with thoughts and feelings that are coming up that don’t have to do with the kasina? If you’ve got at least 50% of your attention on the kasina, then you’re in Access Concentration. And it feels different because it’s, again, foregrounded—it’s got the main position in your attention. Foreground and background is, of course, a visual analogy, and here it really works well talking about the kasina, because it’s a visual object. What does it mean for a visual object to be in the foreground of your experience? It doesn’t necessarily mean that it grows and grows until it visually takes up more than 50% of your visual experience—although that’s one possible way it could look. It’s not just about the percentage of your visual experience the kasina takes up; it’s the percentage of your attention that it fills up. Something very small can fill up our entire attentional field. Usually in meditation, the first object that’s taught in most traditions, I’ve noticed, is focus on the breath at the nostrils. That’s a small point of attention—it’s very small if you think about it, especially compared to a bigger circle. And still, if we focus on something, if we bring our attention to it, it fills up our attention. If you think about it, subject and object in concentration practices—the subject is the one who’s paying attention, the object is the thing we’re paying attention to. What happens as you pay more attention to something? Your attention gets closer to the object, right? That’s how we describe it. Our attention actually gets closer—even if we don’t move, our body doesn’t move, our attention can actually zoom in on things. It can zoom in and zoom out with attention, and when we get really interested in something, we zoom in on it and often exclude everything that’s not that. So here, that’s what’s happening with the kasina. The kasina object doesn’t necessarily have to change for it to fill our attentional field. It doesn’t have to be big; it could be small. We’re going to actually work with a meditation soon here where we just find the sweet spot: how big does the kasina need to be in relation to me—the subject, the one that’s paying attention to it? What is the sweet spot in terms of the size of the kasina? What is the right size? We’re going to explore that in a guided meditation. And then we’re also going to look at what’s the sweet spot in terms of how we’re attending to the kasina. There’s this whole notion in Buddhist meditation of “not too tight, not too loose.” I’m sure you’ve heard that story—the Buddha talking to the lute stringer, and the lute stringer explaining, “You don’t want it too tight, you don’t want it too loose.” And the Buddha’s like, “Yeah, just like meditation.” So here, focus too on how you focus in a way that’s not too tight, not too loose when it comes to a visual object. Fortunately for us, we have lots of experience with this, being modern people. We already know what it’s like to focus too much on screens or to strain on what we’re focusing on when it comes to visual things. So we’ll use that knowledge to help us focus in a different way on the kasina. We’ll look for the experience of Access Concentration, even if it’s just temporary—even if it just happens for a moment. One of the things I appreciate about Access Concentration is it does feel like a shift, especially if you haven’t experienced it regularly or you haven’t experienced it with that particular meditation object. Say you’re used to getting into Access Concentration to do your work or to do other things, but you haven’t necessarily done it with a blue hovering orb. And then you have the experience—you’re like, “Oh, wow, that’s cool. I can just focus on this orb, and that can become the most interesting thing in my experience,” even though from an objective standpoint it’s not that interesting. It’s just a blue circle. But actually, yeah, when I start to look at it, it becomes more than that. It actually seems now like it’s a three-dimensional orb. It’s not just a circle—it’s got dimensionality to it, and it’s luminescent, and it’s glowing, and it even has a little bit of a sense of motion. Oh wow, this is really interesting. What is this? We’ll get deeper into the experience of what the kasina’s like when we gain Access Concentration. Interested in the topic?Sign-up for free the KASINA web application or join us for a live training in the Pragmatic Dharma Sangha Get full access to Buddhist Geeks at www.buddhistgeeks.org/subscribe

  8. 1 avr.

    Metta & Compassion Vibes

    In “Metta & Compassion Vibes,” Emily Horn explores the crucial difference between befriending difficulty through metta and the deeper, boundary-dissolving willingness of compassion to actually meet suffering — and why that meeting sometimes sounds like a fierce and loving no. ☸️ The Ten Pāramīs You’re invited. to join Emily Horn in a practical exploration of The Ten Pāramīs: Ten Trainings for a Liberated Life this April. Become a member of the Pragmatic Dharma Sangha, and gain access to both live cohorts. Or you can join the kick-off session, on either of these dates, to see if it’s a good fit: * 📅 Wednesday, April 22nd @ 12pm ET * 📅 Thursday, April 23rd @ 5pm ET 💬 Transcript Emily: Sometimes when I sense into compassion, one of the things that comes up for me is this all-or-nothing kind of sense — where it is like compassion is here or it is not here — this binary kind of experience. All or nothing. I just want to invite that if it is here for us, it is like where I can have compassion for that person, but I cannot have it for myself. That is another kind of all or nothing. So there are these different kinds of barriers — we could call them barriers to compassion — that start to arise when we incline. And we have been working with loving kindness. Metta, metta, metta, metta. So perhaps sense into inclining to metta for a moment. Metta. Metta, this sense of befriending. And I have been sensing into that quality of befriending. It is a very difficult world. Humans are being everything on the spectrum to each other at this moment. There is a lot of cruelty. And there is a lot of love. So when I sense into metta, there is this sense of, okay, befriending even the cruelty. And that is a big ask. That is a big ask. And what does that even look like? Metta is a sense and a vibe — it is not a prescription for any kind of action, right, first of all. Now where compassion comes in for me, and where that inclination is important, is in the world and in our lives and in our relationships, and even with ourselves. We can have a sense of befriending, like welcoming. But then for me, it can get like, okay, I can befriend and welcome, but I am going to keep it over there. All right, I am going to keep it over there. I am going to keep you over there. I am even going to kind of see this sense of anger or agitation in myself, and I am going to kind of witness it. It is still going to kind of be over there in my experience — in here, over there. Now as metta grows, that sense of boundary can dissolve. But here is where I want to bring in compassion, because to me, when I incline to compassion, you can sense into this. May compassion arise. There is this sense of boundary shift, so that whatever is painful, that has been — in the moment — befriended enough, just befriended enough to start to sense into compassion. Compassion is going to require me in a lot of ways to merge with that sense of pain, difficulty, even if it is just for a moment. There is a sense of meeting it, right? With compassion, we meet suffering. And in some ways that sense of who is it that is really meeting it — we might not recognize it in the moment if it arises. Compassion in itself is a boundless state. It is not going to have a sense of boundary. We might not recognize that until after. Okay? We might explore compassion in a way that requires us to remember with mindfulness what it was like to experience it. But compassion requires me to meet the suffering, whether it is arising internally, externally, and then sometimes it will shift where it is like both internal and external. All right. These are the concepts that start to be used to describe this energetic — remember the vibe that we are sensing into as we explore these states. It is like, what is the vibe that comes with it? In the Pali language: metta, compassion, loving kindness. So the sense of befriending, and then this willingness — compassion asks us to meet it. To meet the suffering. Now, it might be helpful to just remember: when we say suffering, what is it that we mean? What do I mean by suffering? All right, what is this? And there is so much of it, so many different flavors of it. With compassion, there is this genuine sense of — there is a willingness to see it. To meet it. Then even if it is conscious or not, a movement towards the alleviation of it. And that is really important. It is like the alleviation of it. And the alleviation of it might be in the form of a no. All right. So compassion might lead us into the action of no — no, we are not going to keep doing this because it keeps adding onto the suffering. All right. Logically, sometimes it is a very simple thing to see. It is like, no, we are not going to hit people, because that hurts. And then what happens? That sense of compassion leads me into the alleviation of it. Sometimes this gets confused with empathy and I want to kind of put a sticky note on that. What is the difference between empathy and compassion? Empathy — we human beings are very, whether or not we want to see this or even are attuned to seeing this, we are very connected biologically, neurologically. So empathy is that ability to sense other people’s feelings, to sense what is going on as a collective. And yet empathy, if we are not aware of it and we do not sense it and know it as empathy, then sometimes we get confused and think it is compassion. But here is one of the differences: empathy can make us tired, right? Compassion — believe it or not — compassion is a boundless, energetic state. Right? Firefighters, people that rescue for a living — they talk about running into burning buildings without even thinking. All right, it is like this natural kind of — for them, natural kind of response to run towards, to try to alleviate the suffering. And they might not even realize it is compassion in that moment, right? Because the sense of boundaries dissolves. That is one of the ways that it gets confusing. It is because compassion arises, there is not this sense of me and you. And yet it is really difficult sometimes to sense into where that sense of blocking happens when we start to expand into the universal mind state, heart state of it. I can sense into certain kinds of difficult people where it is like, no, not them. And for me, what is really supportive is to say, okay, yeah, with metta — metta is a boundless state as well. Everything is held in it. And with compassion there is that sense of alleviation of suffering that also can hold a no. So we can — in some ways our cognitive mind might have to be reprogrammed a little bit as to what we think this has to look like, because a lot of times that is where the confusion comes in. There can be a fierce quality of compassion that can still hold everything in the universe and at the same time say, okay, in this human, personal world, we are going to stand for the embodiment of love and say no to that which is not right, to that which is not. And that can look a lot of different ways. And we are seeing that more and more and more. We are seeing more and more of that no, collectively, against the kind of cruelty that compassion asks us to meet. And it is a really, really big ask. One of the challenges with compassion — just in the heart states in general — and remember, part of the way this is traditionally laid out in the Buddhist framework, especially with the metta practices and the insight meditation tradition, it is like we start with loving kindness to kind of get that sense and get our sea legs with befriending even some of the difficulty that we do not even want to in ourselves. We kind of get our sea legs, and then we are like, okay, compassion — let us take it slow and steady, but learn how to digest the closeness, the intimacy, the connection that can be an acquired taste. Through that realization of, oh yeah, we are so connected — that for me, unless I have been able to digest that suffering a little bit at a time, then the next heart capacity that we learn to cultivate, or find our way into cultivating, is equanimity. All right? And that is the non-preference for pleasure and pain. But with compassion, it is like we get our sea legs learning how to work with suffering, right? Learning how to — okay, so what am I not going to get out of? Sickness, old age, and death is what the tradition says. And then what can I start to actively roll up my sleeves and say, okay, no — and slowly, slowly change? Sometimes that rate of change is a lot slower than I personally want it to be, and that is part of the rub with compassion — is that we have to kind of rumble with it, because it is not really up to me. And yet at the same time, this both-and comes online where the capacity grows for holding: oh yeah, it is not really just up to me. There is something a lot bigger here, and yet it is not just up to that. There is this non-dual dance that comes online as we grow more and more into being able to hold equanimity. And then joy will come in there. So I present it — that seems like a very linear process, but for me it is more like a learning how to kind of access these states and acquire a taste for them, and then also learn where it gets sticky, because the sense of identity starts to — like we talked about last time — the sandpaper, it starts to rub in a way that kind of creates the sandpapery friction. Now, compassion incline — that is what starts to make that rub, that sandpaper. It starts to smooth it, smooth it out, whether we like it or not, which deepens our capacity for equanimity. So they all relate to each other. It is just that we will start to kind of bump up against, so to speak, energetically, the vibes that appear to cause us to lose access to this. Yeah. Slow and steady. Slow and steady. We are going to incline now. I would like to lead a practice to kind of get a sense for this in another way. Par

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Evolving Dharma in the Age of the Network www.buddhistgeeks.org

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  • Création
    Vince Fakhoury Horn
  • Années d’activité
    2007 - 2026
  • Épisodes
    485
  • Classification
    Contenu explicite
  • Copyright
    © Vince Fakhoury Horn
  • Site web de l’émission
    Buddhist Geeks

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