April 2020

At the present time, the whole world is experiencing a pandemic in which thousands of people are dying. This is a sobering time. We are all reminded of our own mortality, and of the mortality of everyone we love: human life is impermanent.

This impermanence of our life is one truth. Here is another truth, and one that does not stand against the first: in each seemingly fleeting, ephemeral moment there is an eternalness—a fullness that just is and that abides, yet that is never static.

This truth that there is an eternalness that is always here and now is a profoundly comforting truth, especially when one has been experiencing fear about a very uncertain future. Yet, for me, this wonderfully comforting truth often seems just over the horizon, just out of reach. At such times, it does no good to hammer on the gates of heaven—or, indeed, to search for, or cling to, anything whatsoever. What works is to let go of external things, withdraw within, and sit still. Whenever we can be content within this present moment, whenever we can sit still in simple, upward-looking faith, we are dwelling within the eternalness of this present moment.

There is more to a moment of our ancient practice of meditation than meets the eye. And there is more to every moment of our life, even if that moment is the very last moment of this lifetime, than meets the eye. In this very moment the unborn and undying Life of Buddha is manifesting. This is as true right now as it has ever been.

In the eternalness of this very present moment, you and I are not as separate as we may perceive ourselves–and even believe ourselves–to be. In Buddhism, when we offer merit for one another in time of need, we are responding to our intuitive sense that the Goodness that lies at the heart of existence is shared–and share able–by living beings. —We are separate in many ways, yet we are one within It.

In speaking thus of the offering of merit and of our time of need, I have come full circle in this little article—back to the fragility and impermanence of our life, but, hopefully, having pointed toward the deeper context within which fragility and impermanence exist. I hope that all who read these words will stay well during this pandemic; but, even more, I hope that all will take refuge in that wonderful unborn, undying Life which is the true Reality within which our fleeting lives arise and pass.

Being hunkered down during this difficult time can be an opportunity to concentrate on our training and meditation, which I think will greatly help with our anxiety and stress. Our daily practice can cut through many of the things that cause us suffering. For myself and others, allowing the non-judgmental love of the Eternal to flow has been a great source of peace at times like this.

Since I am on hiatus as the Buddhist chaplain at the Federal Detention Center in Sea-Tac due to the virus, I have reflected on some of the issues that have come up there over the years. I feel that they are quite relevant to the present situation, where many of our daily movements are restricted due to health concerns. I would like to share some of these thoughts with you.

A while back, an inmate told me that she "really hated this place." While I could understand this on one level, it seemed to me that she was being consumed by her hate and anger. I encouraged her to continue her daily practice and to be mindful of these emotions that were controlling her and dragging her down. She eventually took her training very seriously and two years later, when she was released, she was filled with gratitude and looking forward to continuing her training.

This next example is one that was brought to my attention by more than one inmate. It was an overwhelming feeling of yearning for their loved ones. I told them that this was quite normal, but that they were being overcome by this, and it was leading to a state of great suffering. My suggestion was to be mindful of this powerful feeling when it came up and to let it dissipate into the pure love of the Eternal. Over time, most of them were able to greatly benefit from their meditation. It was not easy, and first there had to be a willingness on their part to do the training and to feel what came up.

Finally, I want to talk about the general sense of despair that I quite often sensed at the detention center. This despair was usually accompanied by feelings of restlessness and boredom, of not knowing what to do with themselves. Similar feelings may come up for us today given the current restrictions on our usual activities. In response to this difficulty, at the detention center, I stressed to the inmates the importance of accepting their situation and living their lives, while being mindful that these thoughts and feelings would come up. I passed onto them that daily practice and meditation, done while staying open to the love of the Eternal, would help to greatly reduce the suffering that this despair brought on.

One last thing I want to mention is about the close proximity with loved ones that some of you are experiencing since the virus hit. Sometimes sharing close quarters for 24 hours a day may lead to some tensions. This can be a very difficult situation. We have to be very mindful when this love gets skewed, recognize it, and allow the pure love within us to alleviate any suffering.

All these ways of training will help you during these times. So keep your hearts open, keep looking up, keep that love flowing, and know that the love of the Eternal is always, always, always there.

Recently I learned that one of the most-used phrases in the Old Testament is some variation of, “Be not afraid!” I have no doubt that, somewhere in the vast Buddhist canon, the Buddha also exhorted his followers not to fear. But more than words, his very life was a continuous manifestation of fearlessness and courage. At this challenging time his example can guide and inspire us about how to respond to fear.

Of the many stories of the Buddha’s courage, such as taming a charging, drunken elephant with loving-kindness, the one that stands out for me at this time is the events on the night of his enlightenment.

It is written that the Buddha sat down that night, vowing not to rise from his sitting place until he had realized enlightenment. His resolve was so strong and pure that it frightened Mara, the deity who is the personification of all temptations to evil and distractions from training. First, Mara sent his beautiful daughters to seduce the Buddha; then he sent his vast armies of hideous monsters to attack him; finally Mara accused the Buddha of not being worthy of enlightenment.

Throughout this ordeal the Buddha did not battle Mara, or engage him in argument. Instead, he simply remained in meditation and sat still and unwavering in his sitting place. Mara’s daughters eventually gave up in defeat and went away dejected in their powerlessness; the arrows shot by his army turned to flowers when they struck the “force field” of his meditation; finally, the Buddha touched his fingertips to the ground beside his sitting place and the earth itself spoke: "I bear witness to your worthiness!" and Mara went off in defeat.

In broad outline, the story is relating the negative inner forces that poison and corrupt our lives if we let them: greed (Mara’s daughters), anger (Mara’s army), and delusion (that we are unworthy of knowing the Eternal). And fear is a door that opens to them and makes ourselves vulnerable to their influence.

When we are assailed by negative forces and events, whether inner or outer, it is easy to become incapacitated by fear and worry, and it is easy to react with rage and self-righteousness. It takes real courage to just sit still in the face of threatening forces; courage to say, “Do your worst, you have no power over me, because I choose to be still and not respond to you.” Being human, we may experience fear, but we have the capacity within ourselves to not let it define us. Of course, this is not a prescription for passive indifference, but reacting without first being still will be destructive in some way, whether to self or other. Practicing stillness in the face of adversity is the most proactive thing we can do at the time. And the Buddha’s experience shows us the results when we do.