Rocky Mountain Buddhist Hermit.

Growing up at the foot of the Rocky Mountains, (Colorado) spending decades climbing their heights and summer's backpacking into remote, mountain lakes for a week's stay, has been monumental in helping my Dharma practice.

It is also why I am so attracted to the way of the Buddhist hermit who's monastery is the mountain-tops (or forests) and his sangha the wildlife. Nature teaches you patience, paying attention, doing more with less, appreciating what you have and expecting the unexpected. In short -- it teaches you how to live in the present moment.

In the high mountains, (10,000 ft above sea level and higher) circumstances can change faster than a blink of an eye. The altitude changes everything to where you have to be alert at all times to survive. It can be warm, short's weather down in town during the month of August when we go backpacking; yet you still have to pack winter gear. You can be hiking in shorts and sunshine one minute and the next minute find yourself in a driving snowstorm. I have spent more than one August, summer's day held up inside a tent at 11,000 ft. above sea level, gazing out of the tent at a snow storm settling in around the camp site.When backpacking you take a fold-out backpacking stove (seen above, with fuel canister) to cook freeze-dried food, which isn't gourmet but when eaten after hiking up an 11,000 foot mountain, it tastes better than what any five-star chef in Paris could whip up. That's because you appreciate it more after having busted your ass-off and spent all your energy on putting one foot in front of another, slowly, up and up the mountain. It is the best food you've had all year because it is literally the only food you have. You take care not to let one drop hit the ground because each bite is precious for needed calories. Yet, how much food do we waste at home? Each bite of food is savored mindfully like it was the first meal to cross your lips in ages--even the bowls and kettle are licked clean of sustenance. It teaches you to focus on simply eating and enjoying it.

Everything in the mountains must be done with great care and attention to detail, which, again is why it's a great place to practice and live the Dharma. For example, getting a drink of water entails an entire process of purification pumps and water storage bottle balancing. It's not like flipping on the tap at home; but that water is the best water you'll ever taste because of the attention you put into gathering it. And, you see it as a lot more precious than the water you pour out of the tap at home. You find yourself rationing it out throughout the day because if you guzzle it all at lunch, then you have to hike back up to the glacier to pump some more because you don't ever want to be caught out in the wild without water.

Then there is shelter, which takes on a whole other importance when backpacking. Carrying everything you need for a week on your back means you're near-homeless and that makes you cherish your flimsy tent as though it were a palace. It makes you thankful for a warm place to sleep with some cover over-head. And you begin to realize that you don't need a big house let alone a mansion. I guess I relate so much to these hermit monks because I have lived the last two decades preparing for just such a life. One day perhaps, when, (and if) I feel the time is right, I will disappear into the mountains and build my small hut to spend the rest of my days meditating in. Not out of searching for the, "enlightenment treasure chest" but out of letting go of it.

Not to become some fabled "mountain-top guru." In fact, if you try, and come looking for me to be my student, I will shoo you away because there are much better qualified teachers than this crazy-eyed Buddhist. It's about being an anonymous being living out the rest of his days in the natural world--our true home. A home that humans have nearly abandoned for the accouterments and attachments of city life. We need to reclaim that home. I don't think everyone can or should become a mountain hermit but for me, it's in my karma. I have known from a young age that my life would find me living a life of solitude in the mountains at some point.

I will no longer feel attached to the desires of city life; and the choice will be made for me. I'll leave that city life chaos to more capable hands. At that stage of spiritual life, the best place for me would be in nature, where life exists at it's most basic foundation. A good place to leave this world from when the moment arrives.

~Peace to all beings~

"Unmistaken Child" Documentary on PBS is Worth Your Time.

I was recently sent an advanced copy of an upcoming documentary on PBS titled, "Unmistaken Child." It follows the journey of a young monk in Nepal looking for the reincarnation of a great lama who also happens to be beloved friend. This documentary was as much about finding the courage to believe in yourself as much as it was about finding the reincarnated Rinpoche.

As a Zen Buddhist, I try not to follow my mind down the rabbit hole into the realm of what happens after death too much because it is keeps me from staying in the "now," which is really the only moment available to us. It is where our practice takes place. So I have been taught that if I concentrate too much upon what might happen I miss what is happening. However, for the sake of conservation I have no problem with the idea of death and dying. I also have no problem with the idea of rebirth and suspect that it happens. Likewise I have no problem with the possibility that nothing happens after you die.

However, reincarnation of a specific person or "soul" seems counter to what the Buddha taught but I'm no expert. As a skeptic of the Tibetan Buddhist tradition of reincarnating lamas I must admit though that this documentary really makes me reconsider the possibility again. I truly marveled at how accurate the process was. Look for a cameo from the Dalai Lama.

It truly was remarkable to follow the journey of the young monk seeking his reincarnated teacher and watching his struggles, his triumphs, courage and undying patience and respect for his mentor. The documentary did a wonderful job in showing us the intimate process of testing children to reveal the new body of this master. The dialogue was minimal, which seemed fitting for such a sacred and serious mission. I didn't realize how intricate the process was for finding a reincarnated lama. I had some idea from the movie "Kundun" as to how the Dalai Lama was found but I didn't know that the process involved divination of the ashes of the cremated teacher, astrological charts and dream interpretation.

It was fascinating to discover just how deep Tibetan Buddhism is intertwined with the metaphysical. After watching this movie and getting even more insight into the heavily ritualized nature of Tibetan Buddhism, it really does seem like its own branch of Buddhism. So instead of the traditional recognition of only two main branches of Buddhism, Theravada and Mahayana, it makes sense that some say there is a third--Vajrayana, because Tibetan Buddhism is so unique. While there is some overlap with Mahayana schools, Tibetan Buddhism has such a distinct nature, which is probably due to its development in such an isolated region of Asia.

Anyway, the documentary was enthralling, inspiring, educational and revealing. The scenery of the Nepalese highlands is stunning and worth viewing this film for that alone. The high mystical peaks seem so very fitting for such a otherworldly exploration. I highly recommend you watch it when it airs on PBS (Public Broadcasting Service) here in America on April 7th at 10p.m. (check your local listings).

~Peace to all beings~

Haiku: Literary Meditation.

I write a lot of haiku and enjoy reading them just as much. Haiku seems to fit Buddhism and Zen in general quite well due to the stripped down structure and word usage. A good Haiku in my view is one, which grabs your attention by way of several impressions upon one or more of the senses. In addition, one, which paints a picture but then, presents a concluding line, which pulls the poem together for a feeling of balance.

This gives the reader a sense of closure to the scene and without the contrasting yet somewhat parallel ending it leaves the reading feeling abandoned. Thus, Haiku in my view is similar to the Buddhist/Taoist concept of oneness where two seemingly dissimilar concepts connect to form a well-rounded view of the present reality experienced at the time the writer experienced it. The first two lines provide a detailed, micro, mindful scene with a more open-ended conclusion to leave you with something to contemplate upon further.

Also, I find that writing a haiku is like a meditation as you contemplate a scene in your mind you must be very mindful of the sounds, smells, sights and sensations upon the skin. Only having a few words to use channels the author’s focus so that each word is mindfully chosen to give the haiku a clean, simple, yet strong and insight provoking essence. Its short form eliminates unnecessary wording, which can take away from the focused insight that haiku is so appreciated for. It makes haiku easily digestible for our scattered minds. In longer poetry the mind tends to wander and miss words, thus missing the essence of the writing. Haiku, like Zen Buddhism strips away the clutter to get right to the heart of things. No unnecessary distractions.

Since traditionally Haiku include nature as a theme it is like having the essence of nature anywhere you might find yourself such as in a big city where nature is very limited in between the concrete and steel. Haiku allows you to be right in the middle of a Japanese garden while riding the subway. In addition, being simple and concise also enables you to be in that Japanese garden but still remain quite aware of your present surroundings. That's the great thing about haiku meditation. Its form lends itself well to maintaining a Buddhist mindset even in our fast paced world where we don’t have as much time to contemplate more in-depth Dharma talks as often as we might want. In closing I wanted to leave you with my latest haiku:

shrine bamboo fountain

water descends drain pipe
monk washes old hands

~Peace to all beings~

My Past Lives as a Tibetan Monk.

I was a bit skeptical about past lives until I had this very, vivid dream--which also party triggered my investigation and interest in Buddhism. I found myself dressed in some kind of colorful, flowing robe. The colors being a purplish maroon and the other was a yellowish golden color. The robe seemed to be an eggplant color with the golden yellow as trim. I had no clue at that point in my life that those are the colors of Tibetan Buddhist monks; in fact I didn’t know much of anything about Buddhism in general!!

A man dressed in similar robes accompanied me but his robes were bluer with the golden yellow trim. He was my guide as we walked up this slope of a massive mountaintop. I could tell that we were very high up because the vegetation was mostly tundra with a few scraggly trees. The sky was a breathtaking shade of crystal blue with only a hint of wispy clouds. A slight breeze was playfully tossing the fabric of my billowy robes about. I felt so at peace with my guide and in my surroundings. I can’t remember his face but I had a deep feeling of connection with him. He felt like a long lost friend whom I had known for ages.

As we rounded the summit of this great peak I saw a large Buddha-like statue with a crisp, clear stream of water gushing out of the statue’s mouth. My guide told me to drink the water, so I cupped my hands and drank. And as I swallowed this cool, clean mountain water I realized that I was very thirsty and I remember it was so refreshing and delicious.

Thus, I drank more and more of this elixir. As I drank my guide informed me that the water I was drinking was no ordinary water. He said, “It is special water. Water that will bring you vitality and long-life” and with that he gave me a warm smile. Then, as I gazed transfixed into his peaceful face I was transported out of the dream with a blink just like someone changed the channel on the t.v.

As it turns out my research shows that blue and yellow are the two colors in the Karmapa Dream Flag. “The 16th Gyalwa Karmapa, well known for his visions and prophesies, designed this flag from a vision that came to him in a dream. He called it “Namkhyen Gyaldar (Victorious Flag of Buddha’s Wisdom).” He proclaimed, “Wherever this banner is flown the Dharma will flourish.”[i]

According to that same webpage cited above, the inner meaning of this flag is that the blue represents vision and spiritual insight, which is exactly what my dream was for me. In addition, the yellow represents our experiences in the everyday world and certainly my everyday experiences were weighing heavily upon me when I had this dream. So I see this dream as a wake up call that the spiritual insight of the dream represented by Buddhism would be the path that would help me find peace and reduce my great suffering (I was struggling greatly at the time in my life on what to do. I was lost in a nihilist fog at the time of this dream).

It seems that the Karmapa’s Dream Flag took the form of my guides robe colors and the pure, clean water was to quench my thirst for peace and stability through the Dharma. I personally feel that the dream overall it was a reminder of a past life that I must have lived as a novice Tibetan Buddhist monk.

I've had a second, as vivid dream about what I see as a past life in Tibet. I was on a journey all alone in a mountainous land. I was again wearing maroon robes and was on some quest of sorts to find a hermit monk off in the foothills near a grand, blue, wind-swept lake. Well, imagine my surprise and shock when I watched the movie Kundun and saw the exact same lake from my dream in the movie!! It was Lhamo I' Latso or the "Oracle Lake. It is a sacred (considered the most sacred actually), famous lake known for visions and thus no surprise I guess why I experienced that past memory in a dream.

I had the dream about the lake before I had seen the movie. I think these dreams are partly why I was initially attracted to Tibetan Buddhism when I began studying the Dharma in this life.

It is because of these two dreams, the reality of the life cycle of the four seasons and the physics law that nothing every disappears but simply changes form. For example, sunlight lives on in the form of electricity transformed through solar panels. It lives on in trees, which are later used to create paper to make books. Thus the sun lives on in trees, paper, books, ink, and on and on.

---

[i] Harderwijk, Rudy. “Tibetan Buddhist Symbols.” A View on Buddhism. Ed. Rudy Harderwijk. 10

October 2006. 8 July 2008. http://buddhism.kalachakranet.org/symbols_tibet_buddhism.htm#

~Peace to all beings~

Monastery Haiku.

monk robes wet with dew

bell rings and birds fly away
budding lotus bows

by James R. Ure


~Peace to all beings~

Book Review, "Footprints in the Snow: The Autobiography of a Chinese Buddhist Monk."

Publicist Adrienne Biggs was kind enough to send me an advanced copy of the book, "Footprints in the Snow: The Autobiography of a Chinese Buddhist Monk." That monk being Ch'an Master Sheng Yen. The first thing that I was struck with in reading this book was how thoughtful and sensitive Master Sheng Yen is. He comes across in this book as a very kind person whom you'd enjoy listening to for hours and he has led a very eventful life being born to a poor farming family, joining the military, living in Taiwan and finally his monastic life. With a wonderful part on visiting Japan.

It was very fascinating for me to read his journey as a monk because I have always been curious about that life. I must say though that I was disturbed by some of the training techniques. His Master would make him do, undo and the redo things over and over, day after day. He made him stack, re-stack and then unstack a pile of bricks for days on end. He also berated him with (what seems to my unenlightened mind) unproductive criticism such as calling him stupid and other insults that I would not expect from a Buddhist master.

Sheng Yen said that it taught him patience and that he needed to go through that to purify his karma but what of the karma of the Master? Is not that kind of violent speech accumulating negative karma for himself? I think there are better ways to teach patience but I'm not a monastic, nor a Master monk and I come from a western mind frame so perhaps I'm missing something. Perhaps Sheng Yen needed to go through that to pay off a karmic debt to his master from a past life? I don't know.

And yet he says in the book, "Religious experience is not enlightenment" so he does understand that no matter what the religious training we must ultimately realize enlightenment on our own.

Just one of the profound parts of the book occurs while Sheng Yen is in the military in Taiwan. He writes to one of his teachers, Master Nanting complaining that he has little freedom in the military and the Master relpies, "Who has freedom in this world? As long as there is the body, there is no freedom."

All in all though this book was a great read. It was neat to see the inner details of the monastic life in the Ch'an tradition. Sheng Yen writes with such beauty in his vivid descriptions and his attention to detail is amazing. He writes in a way that makes you feel as though you are reliving every bit of his life with him. The last few words of the book were perhaps the most profound for me, "Now it is time to let go."

~Peace to all beings~