Entrepreneurship, Reframed

An interesting conversation about how spiritually-oriented organizations can adopt modern business techniques, not to achieve monetary goals, but to achieve their own, spiritually-driven vision.

From the conversation:

"I get the sense that there are vast audiences, new audiences interested in wisdom, backed up by science, practical, everyday stuff. But the key is, the aesthetic is very key, is it has to be packaged in a way that makes sense to them. The way I talk about this is if the kids just been playing with a PlayStation game that had $100 million invested in it. And then they watched a couple of ads from Coke. And then they watched an HBO show or Avatar. And then you come with your wisdom media. And it’s cheesy and bad production values and poorly written and poorly conceived and stuck in a color 1960s purple patchouli aesthetic. Then you just lose them. The cost of entry is the brand, the marketing, the media, the shininess. That’s the cost of entry."

http://www.buddhistgeeks.com/2011/01/bg-203-entrepreneur-as-bodhisattva/

There is a transcript and an audio file.

Enjoy!

Brian

Donate for Urban Dharma’s 4-foot Amitabha Buddha

Urban Dharma is in the process of acquiring a statue of Amitabha for our main shrine from Taiwan.  This exciting acquisition has only been possible due to the generosity of a rare & ancient antiques collector who wanted to support our center.  He has kindly donated this exquisitely crafted statue from his personal collection; now it’s up to us to get it over here.

We are looking for people to pledge in terms of shares of $20 each to come up with the expected shipping cost of around $2000.  You can pledge one or several shares through a credit card, our paypal account, or by check.  This is a wonderful opportunity for Urban Dharma members and for the folks in the greater Asheville area.  By pledging, you can actively become a part of realizing this one-of-a-kind sacred space in Asheville, and this distinctive piece of Buddhist art will occupy our center and be its face.   

Four feet tall and made from white jade, this exquisitely crafted image of a standing Amitabha was picked to perfectly suit the shrine needs at Urban Dharma.  His right hand is raised with thumb and middle finger joined, and his left hand rests below his chest; his posture is commanding yet peaceful, regal yet inviting.  Once completed, the shrine space will accommodate not only this Amitabha statue from Taiwan but also four other statues: Manjusri (Wisdom), Avalokitesvara (Compassion), Tara (an aspect of over-coming obstacles), and Jambhala (an aspect of spiritual wealth).  We will also have a stupa and a set of sutras enshrined, so all the Body, Speech, and Mind will be depicted.  Finally, we will have two thangkas depicting the spiritual lineages of most of our core practices.     


Stay tuned for methods of payment.

If sending a check, please send to:
Urban Dharma; PO Box 1027; Asheville, NC 28802-1027; USA
Make the check out to “Urban Dharma.”  (If paying by check, also send an e-mail to info@udharmanc.com to notify us of your pledge.)

Lessons From Taiwan

Modernity and Lessons from Ancient Cultures

I remember Joe said the Taiwnese had a bit of a love of the cultish aesthetic, wearing all the same colored vests; a fairly horrible color of yellow. I was reminded a bit of the fundamentalists churches I went to as a kid, dragged by the mother of one of my friends. Even the Catholic churches would sometimes have the same feel. Lots of older people, gathered around, with a lot of investment in bringing you into their club. They smiled a bit too much, they were a bit overly friendly, but they didn't seem to have much to offer beyond their hope that you would be joining them. It was with this mind that Joe, Fiona, and little baby William went to the Buddha's Light International Temple. What I saw that day did not make me want to be more like the members of the temple in the ways that were off-putting, but did really show me something that sometimes is forgotten as we adopt a more rational and scientific approach to Buddhism.

Then the lady, a well-dressed nun, arrived and took the podium. Of course, due to my laziness and involvement in other things, my Chinese is much worse than the average two-year old here; so I didn't understand much. But the lady, the nun, was dignified, peaceful; and it was clear that the content of her talk was not, in any way, fundamentalist. As Joe translated, she spoke of what people could do to help the environment, the benefits of vegetarianism, and told some simple stories of how people helping each other can impact the world. Nothing was preachy, she never told people they were bad because they ate meat or used an air-conditioner; she merely suggested that there were ways that they could reduce these things and that that would have positive impact. The cheesy, badly acted video, that I saw out of the corner of my eye when we arrived there, was actually quite good. Certainly it was cheesy and badly acted, but Turning Points, as it was called, was really about how small, seemingly insignificant actions of kindness had had a profound impact on one person's life, and the lengths that he went to thank them. Actually, the message was quite meaningful.

I remember, most particularly, something that the nun said in her talk, she told a story of a child who came home to tell her mother she had made number two in a competition, and the mother responded, “What about number one?” The child worked very hard, and the won the next competition. She told her mother of her success, and the mother responded, “What about your good works?”

Joe's response was, “What a tiger mother!” At the time, I agreed, it sounded to me like the over-pressuring mothers I deal with quite often. Actually, though, as I reflect, she succinctly pointed out the thing that is most problematic about Taiwanese society; it's not that they work hard or study hard, that's actually really good. What it is, is that they miss the point; working hard is good, so long as the motivation is to help others. When it is only for one's own gain, it merely will serve that limited purpose; when hard work is harnessed correctly, toward the benefit of others, then it is really powerful. I thought this was a very skillful way to point this out to the audience in a way they could understand, and for me, it expressed the meaning of how devoted we must be in serving those around us.

It was one thing, though, that left the most profound impact upon me. Upon the words of another very excellent nun, Yifa, the woman who had taken us to the talk and around that day was quite convinced I was to become a monk. In truth, my response was nothing but that it is a possibility; but due to my lack of Chinese, I have no idea what was translated. Still, for whatever reason, she was quite convinced it was the case.

At the time we were leaving, she had already shown us really great kindness, feeding us many times, and really trying to provide for our every need. She gave me, hidden amongst some other posters, another gift. A small bowl with a meditating monk, with two Chinese characters, which I thinks translates to,“the joy of meditation.” She said, before I left, that she was worried that maybe I would find a woman and give up my plan of being a monk. I laughed and said “Ohh no! Well, she better be really great. Only a really beautiful and great one!” I think she was somewhat satisfied that this would not be the case, and then she said, “I hope you will not forget me when you go off to India to become a monk.” I said, of course, “Ohh no! Of course not!” Again, she seemed satisfied, and we left.

I was struck that this was quite funny. To be honest, I have spent maybe two days with her, and the only conversations we have had were briefly translated to Chinese. I had thought that the kindness she had shown was due to our connection with others, namely Hun and Yifa, due to their connection with Dharma, and perhaps, some possibility of business. I think though, there was something else in this case, that was a factor: her great faith in Dharma. For her, merely the possibility that I would become a monk created a great possibility of merit and benefit, for herself and others. I felt very humble and a bit embarrassed when I thought of this. Although I am sincere, I am not a monk, nor have I fully made the decision to wear robes yet. I really thought of all those who had helped me, through this life and before; and hoped, like the man in the video, to really repay their kindness. I vowed to do my best to repay this.

In many ways, I think, this speaks to the level of faith of the Taiwanese and Asian Buddhists, in general. For them, the three jewels (the Buddha, the teachings and the community) are a very real entity which provides very real blessings. It is easy for us, as westerners with an academic and scientific bent, to sort of write this off; but I think that this is, perhaps, a really big mistake. It is the kindness and the sense of an ethical life that makes these sort of people really pleasant to be around. Of course, much like Joe and I's experience when we entered the temple, the religiousness of it can be a bit off-putting and perhaps it has some bad effects; but when we really look at the content of the faith, when properly directed, I think this faith is really powerful. This kind of faith provides a sense of humility and responsibility toward others; a sense of connection to our community that is really lacking in the west and in American Buddhism.

Of paramount importance in all the Asian Buddhism I have encountered is faith and connection to your community. This provides a sort of lubricant toward practice; it grounds one in compassion and motivates one to continue in their practice. Much like the story of the girl who does not reach her mother's goals, we are constantly pushed to be better and better so that we can really help others, especially those who've helped us. Of course, we need not become Buddhist or rigid, merely understand deeply and humbly our connection with others. When we really see ourselves in this way, we see ourselves as a small pieces in a a very large and beautiful puzzle. A certain sense of self-grasping dissolves, we can think more clearly, and we fit better in the puzzle that surrounds us.

The Buddhist Practitioner

Not sure where to start, really. Why do we orient ourselves as "Buddhist" anyway? Why not, as rational beings, we take things of practical value & use into our lives and leave it at that? It's a question that kept me a long time from simply saying, "I'm a Buddhist" without several qualifications. I guess, you know, Buddhism through the teaching of bodhichitta, has a pretty awesome mission statement, to "bestow on countless multitudes, the peerless joy of blissful Buddhahood, the ultimate fulfillment of their hopes" (my italics!). That's reason enough to say proudly and definitely, "I'm a Buddhist." But I think there's added benefit that to be a Buddhist means that you are somehow a Buddhist practitioner. Why is that important?

Influenced by Taiwan's own, recently deceased, Master Sheng Yen, after reading one of his books concerning environmental ethics (I think I previously had a post on it), I began carrying with me everywhere, a durable but small and attractive bag that I could use in place of the ubiquitous plastic bags that are used whenever I buy things, such as lunch. I also bought some travel chopsticks that I enjoy using so again, when I find myself eating out, which is often, I don't have to use the disposable bamboo chopsticks that are always provided.

If I thought about what I was really doing, I might not do it. I mean the ethics are clear, but to believe I'm helping much at all in the huge, structurally ingrained problem of waste, it's very easy to feel that such actions are 0.000000000001 of the solution, and not worth the effort. But that's exactly where having a practice comes in--and the amazing, endearing power of practice--that all actions get fed back into your own system of behaving. Even remembering to do such daily, ethical things, gives you a perfect way to remember that you do have a practice, which involves daily meditation, chanting, studying, and so on, and that extra chance to reflect on the Dharma in your life is precious. So in conclusion, taking up such ethical things in context to your Buddhist practice, makes both the action and your practice otherwise, richer & fuller.

I think what I have just explained defines a huge division between how I see myself now as a Buddhist practitioner and how I saw myself as before, when I simply wanted to try to improve myself. In one case, the latter, I don't know if I ever could have embraced such ethical habits, in what I feel has been such a positive and fun way. I hope others, new to the Dharma, see this when they come to Urban Dharma and look around---the value of a practice.

Pig Monsters and Wolves

I had an interesting experience a couple of weeks ago during retreat and I thought I’d share it with you all because I know most of you will really be able to relate.

About three or four years ago I was temporarily living in Phoenix, Arizona and was asked to come up to Garchen Institute to talk about a job opening they had. So I packed up my old Redbone Coonhound dog, Gretchen, and arranged to spend the night just offsite next to the Institute at Kathleen Dyer’s house.

First of all, let’s just say that my dog was not happy at all about being in the desert. Redbone Coonhounds are a southern dog used to forests and hunting fields, but here this old gal was in a desert, in a strange house, with failing eyesight and elderly body. (Just where does a hunting dog pee when there are no trees and no grass?) But being the faithful dog she was, she would rather have been with me than anywhere else.

Night time came and the lady of the house brought in her pig for the night. Not just an ordinary pig...we're talking about what looked to be a 175 lb behemoth, named Ludwig, who plopped himself down in the living room of the home. My dog had never, ever seen a pig, but being the gentle soul she was knew that Ludwig was probably not up to befriending a Coonhound and promptly retreated to the bedroom. No sooner had she tried to settle herself when the son of the lady of the house brought his huge, and I do mean HUGE, white German Shepard over into the back yard. So outside this little room where I am trying to reassure my dog that life is fine, there is a huge “wolf” at the window barking like crazy at her and a huge “pig-monster” outside the door waiting, she thinks, to maybe devour her. All she could do was try to make her 85 lb body as tiny as possible and snuggle closer to her mom.

I thought about how this is like the experience of most sentient beings here in samsara. There are wolves at our windows and pig-monsters at our doors, and the best that most sentient beings can do is try to find some bit of security and happiness and try to believe that life will be OK, somehow, some way. The more I reflected on this, the more my heart opened to all sentient beings and the more I knew that I wanted to open to them and help them to be free from suffering. I have to tell you that this reflection preceded one of the biggest outpourings of compassion I've ever experience. I wept like a child.

I wish my heart would continually stay open in this manner. Retreat gave me the time to be quiet enough, for long enough, to allow some small measure of understanding to come forth of what my teachers have been pouring into me for some time now. I am so grateful to the Dharma, my teachers and my deceased dog-teacher, Gretchen, for guiding me. May all our pig-monsters and wolves be seen for the maras that they are. And may we all reach greater levels of compassion and combine it with wisdom in order to help others.

Ani Dadron

Thinking of Ghost Day in Taiwan

Yesterday was the 15th day of the Chinese Lunar Calender which is the main offering day in Ghost Month. This month is said to be when the gates of heaven and hell open and the dead walk freely about. The food is said to be given largely for those who do not have ancestors who regularly make offerings, I guess probably to keep them at bay. Still, I could not help but think of all the lower realms and the states of existence which are certainly unfortunate. Although, these offerings made to ghosts as a defensive measure, I think it reminds us of the help we have gotten in our own lives during unfortunate times.

These ghosts, aren't necessarily limited to spirits we cannot see; really, when we think, there are many in this world, who we can see, that live in very impoverished states. We are quite lucky to live in a time when we have leisure and free time, food, friends, and housing. So many people are born in places where even food and shelter are not taken for granted. I think recently of the famine in Somalia. Animals too, living outside, when it rains, where do they go? They are stuck under trees, bridges, or whatever shelter they can find.

I reminded of a street dog I saw last night when I was leaving the pool hall, thin to the bones, with many red and white rashes across his black fur back. He was being helped by a local veterinarian, well after hours, who had gone inside to get some medicine or food, I guess, and had tied him and muzzled him outside in the mean time.

In many ways we can see the Buddhas, Bodhisattvas, our teachers, family, friends, and even our enemies in this way. We are often much like the stray dog, in unfortunate circumstances with little to eat or very desperate for some sort of satisfaction for some other hunger. And, like this veterinarian, they come, even if it is late at night, as was the case here, bring us to a safe place, restrain us to keep us near and from biting our wounds, and then apply medicine and give food, and send us on our way.

It is only due to the kindness of others that we have this precious life and the circumstances of knowing right and wrong. Of course, it is our own karma that we have this life; in this sense it is our own. On the other hand, without those along the way to help us, it would be very hard to make use of our good opportunity; we can say the two exist dependent upon each other. Due to our fortunate karma, although at times we are like the dogs or the ghosts, without anyone apparent to help us, a bodhisattva appears in an unexpected form; they guide us, feed us, and send us on our way.

Dharma and Community

Not much to say, just something to pass along from Chapter 7 of Food for the Heart, the collected teachings of Ajahn Chah, the great master of the Thai Forest tradition. While the talk is directed at the monastics in his monastery in Thailand, it applies to all Dharma communities.

He begins by referring to the importance of the duties in the monastery.

"These duties hold us together as a single group, enabling us to live in harmony and concord. They also give us respect for one another, which in turn benefits the community.

In all communities, from the time of the Buddha to the present, no matter what form they may take, if the residents have no mutual respect, they cannot succeed. Whether the communities are secular or monastic, if they lack mutual respect they will have no solidarity. Negligence will set in and the practice will eventually degenerate.

Our community of Dhamma practitioners has lived here for about twenty-five years now. It is steadily growing, but it could deteriorate. We must understand this point. But if we are all heedful, have mutual respect, and continue to maintain the standards of practice, I feel that our harmony will be firm. Out practice as a group will support the growth of Buddhism for a long time to come."


Urban Dharma NC is a new Buddhist community. To succeed, it will need a lot of work. A lot of duties to be fulfilled, a lot of tasks to be completed. However, this isn't drudgery! It is dharma work, and is at the very root of building this community, and of building trust and respect between the members of this community. On one level, without the nitty-gritty tasks being completed, nothing will come to fruition. But on another level, without those shared duties, that shared time, those shared efforts, that shared Dharma practice; the necessary trust and respect won't develop, and then even if the physical aspects manifest in the most glorious of ways, a stable community will not be built.

Of course, nothing is permanent! But, we have the choice right now, and every moment going forward. We can maintain our practice, grow in our practice, as individuals and as a community, and generate trust and respect with each other. We can decide to create the best conditions we can, to lay the firmest foundation. Then, Urban Dharma can truly support the growth of Buddhism (in Asheville, in America!) for a long time to come.

Buddhism and Sexual Ethics

This is a really good talk by Jose Cabezon on Buddhist Ethics as it relates to sexual conduct. Really good analysis; he comes up with a pretty good argument for rethinking the traditional, more restrictive interpretation on the conduct for lay people, to a less restrictive, and as he argues, actually, more traditional interpretation.

Basically, the more current formulation has restrictions on homosexuality, masturbation, and many forms of heterosexual conduct, as well. He argues that this comes in around the third century with Asanga and Nargajuna, and that, actually, analyzing the Pali and Sanskrit Sutras, that there is no mention of anything beyond basic adultery. Even that definition allows a fairly high degree of flexibility. He continues on, giving more reasons on the reinterpretation, and the audience asks a few good questions at the end.

Anyway, I personally have been thinking about a proper position on this issue for laypeople, and frankly, haven't really found anything I felt fit. He provides and excellent and well researched answer. Very nice.

This is so good!

This video by Dzongsar Kheyntse Rinpoche is so good. Really one of the best descriptions of the student-teacher relationship in Tibetan Buddhism I have heard.

Patience, Again

Tonight, some Dharma flitted across my mind while I was holding William and looking at the soup that Fiona had made me, and knowing that it was growing cold. I felt a certain pang, and aware enough of some level of attachment going on, I remembered the meaning of the lines, from the Patience chapter of The Way of the Bodhisattva, "We must at once cast off / Our mind's attachments / Tender to the fiery flames of hate." William had struggled on his bed and needed to be held, and Fiona had just gotten out of the bathroom and was blow-drying her hair on the couch, so I was pacing back and forth just to calm him down and perhaps put him in the mood for sleeping. So I had the opportunity to think: "so attachment leads to hatred? Really--is that really true?" I couldn't really remember where or how Shantideva particularly links them, so, since I didn't particularly feel like I was angry because the soup was getting cold, I guess I forgot about the whole thing altogether.

Finally Fiona finished blow-drying her hair and got out the box where it lives to put it away. Then she put the hair dryer back on her lap to collect the cord, shirking it back into the original peanut-shaped bunch that the cord has had since its manufacturing. Not once but, since she first did it incorrectly, twice she collected the cord to put a rubber-band about it so that it might fit neatly, and snugly into its original packaging. And there it was: anger. Anger--due to simple inconvenience, of having expectations denied (Fiona would hold William so I could finish my long-delayed dinner). Every capacity of reason tells me that my anger is foolish, unfounded, exactly: insane. So why did it arise? And it did arise, clearly and pointedly, in a way that vague frustration never does. Perhaps if I hadn't "caught" myself, my crazy brain, I certainly wouldn't have continued being angry. In the next second anyway, Fiona took the baby. But that's sort of the scary part: how many times have we been angry and forgotten about it? Most likely, some echo of discontent would linger, giving rise to more chances of anger and/or harsh words in an otherwise peaceful moment, with the consequence of not having any idea, upon the fortune of reflection, why such anger was there. It goes a long way back.

Where does this lead me back to? At that time, I also remembered another part of the chapter:

Some do evil things because of ignorance
Some respond with anger being ignorant.
Which of them is faultless in such acts?
To whom shall error be ascribed?

Although Fiona couldn't be said, in any way, to have been doing evil, I felt pretty close to that second line. Ignorance is strong; attachment and anger are always at elbow's length. As warriors, our imperative is to arm ourselves with the Dharma and, to mix a metaphor, take refuge in it. And yet if you allow me that strained metaphor you might find something dynamic and true about it as well: by seeking refuge and immersing ourselves in the Dharma, the Dharma becomes a powerful weapon.