Tag: Buddha Nature

Posted on by joseph mauricio

A LIGHT IN THE DARKNESS

The Faith to Face the Present

One thing I miss from my early Christian upbringing was the belief that something out there was caring for me, watching over me.

And when I felt cut off as though my spirit had darkened, I assumed I was failing. My disconnect from God was evidence of their displeasure. And so at times, I would resent God. “God fearing” translated to self-hating. While this cosmic psycho push pull afforded me lots of entertainment, it was a closed cycle that grew quickly tiresome.

It became clear, that God was a projection of my feelings at any given time. And that I used them as a personal assistant: give me this, get me that.

In time, I came to adopt a Buddhist point of view, which was less comforting, yet perhaps more rewarding. I found the comfort, solace, and protection I was yearning was accessible if I believed in myself.

My self.

But wasn’t it my self that led me into darkness in the first place?

When Buddhists speak of no self, they are saying that the self, as with God itself, is not a solid thing that can save or condemn. When we say, “inside myself,” we’re talking about a part of ourselves that is not solid. A part of our being that is vast and open.  This is called “Buddha Nature”.

Buddha literally means “awake.” The Buddha, the “awakened one”, was a historical being who instructed followers to work on themselves in order to overcome the delusions that kept them locked in cycles of suffering. As humans, we tend to see phenomena as we project them to be. For instance, we might see a vengeful God, or a loving God depending upon inner circumstance. This is a co-dependent cycle and is not wisdom born of clear seeing.

But if we come to believe, to understand, and to have faith, in Buddha nature, then we develop a relationship that is much deeper, stronger, and more rewarding than simply relying on ourselves. And it is also more reliable than anything beyond ourselves. Buddha Nature is the clarity from which we see the world clearly.

In this way, we are experiencing phenomena as what is called  “self-liberated” – which is to say, things are not how we interpret them they are as they are. We have no obligation to phenomena other than to respond appropriately. We are not required to change ourselves based on what others – or other forces – seem to dictate. We can come to have faith in a deeper and truer self that, although not solid, is always here with us.

So are we saying a self that is beyond ourselves yet within ourselves?

We are talking about a part of ourselves that is beyond the self—that is deeper, more open, and more connected to the vibrance, wisdom, and compassion of the universe. The part of ourselves that is the nature of all things. Buddha Nature is compassion and wisdom, which manifests as what is called luminosity. Like light, like the rays of the sun, luminosity points to an experience that is open and regenerative but not solid. Although not solid, luminosity can be focused toward very tangible and practical ends. Light is something we move through easily, and yet, if we sharpen its focus, it can cut through iron.

When we say that our Buddha nature lies within and beyond us, we’re saying that we are in touch with something greater than our corporeal form and well beyond our life experience. We are in touch with the universe. An important aspect of the experience of a universe is its ability to light itself, see itself, and transmit wisdom to all that exists within it. If we are able to feel that light within ourselves, we can connect to the light beyond ourselves.

In practical terms, this means that there is an aspect of our being that need not be defined, encapsulated, contained, or controlled, because it is well beyond our abilities to do so, but is a very tangible, practical, apparent, and present part of ourselves, nonetheless.

With our meditation practice, we train our mind to open to an experience of Buddha nature and the Buddha nature of others, the world and the universe. It is admittedly difficult for me to feel the Buddha nature of those who have harmed me or those who I feel do wrong. But I am absolutely committed to the view that it is not my job to determine who has done wrong. My job is to remain present and open and recognize those glimpses of light when I see them. There are some beings whose Buddha nature I cannot imagine opening my mind enough to see. Therefore, faith is important in those instances.

So, am I a being of light? Well, that seems a way to make light solid. It’s not the light that will save me. In fact, nothing will save me from what is happening. This is my beautiful life. It’s up to me to live as fully as I can.

When things become hard, dark and solid, I have faith that when I am able to return to the present moment, things will have the best chance to work in a way that is best for me. The present moment is devoid of expectation. So, we are not asking or demanding anything. We are here, with our feet on the ground, trusting that we are what we need, all that we need in this moment.

So, as with all things “Buddhist” the middle way is indicated. Letting go of both our need to control all eventualities, and our wish to curl up and have something save us. We do the work to keep our mind present and clear, and at some point we learn to open to space, Space may open to us.

Posted on by joseph mauricio

PROGRESS

Not Perfection

There is a saying in recovery rooms: “Progress, not perfection.” Perfectionism may appear to be a commitment to excellence, but it is often something more anxious and self-defeating. It comes from the fear that we are not good enough as we are—that we must perform, impress, or remain in control to earn our place in the world.

Recovery traditions sometimes describe this fear as a lack of trust in God. In the Shambhala tradition, we might say it reflects a lack of trust in our basic goodness: the inherent dignity and wakefulness beneath our habits, defenses, and social identities.

The recovery tradition also talks about asking a higher power to free us from the bonds of the self. They talk about relying less on our habitual defenses to extricate ourselves from the snares of life and more to surrendering to the will of God. In Buddhism we might draw a distinction between our defensive self and a higher self, which can be seen as Buddha Nature, or Basic Goodness.

Most of us learn to move through life by adopting different versions of ourselves. We become the student, the professional, the son or daughter, the parent, the funny one, or the person who always knows what to do. These identities are not necessarily false. They help us meet the demands of society. The trouble begins when we mistake them for the whole of who we are.

Then life becomes a performance. We move from mask to mask without asking who is underneath.

Because these identities are defensive, relying on them gradually erodes our confidence. We promote ourselves while privately fearing we have nothing to offer. We judge ourselves harshly and then overcompensate, swinging between feeling like the worst person alive and trying to become king of the universe. Lacking faith in ourselves, we try too hard and overdo nearly everything.

Buddha nature is sometimes compared to a diamond: indestructible, reflective, and clear. Yet we often hide this treasure from ourselves as carefully as if we were protecting it from thieves.

Early in my spiritual path, I lived in a meditation community. I had come from the New York comedy scene, an experience that had left me feeling largely hollow and unseen. Nevertheless, I believed people should laugh at my jokes. They were professional-grade jokes, after all. When the community failed to acknowledge my comedic brilliance, I found it deeply frustrating.

Eventually, I asked a dear friend why nobody seemed to appreciate my talent. He smiled and said, “People love you in spite of your bullshit, not because of it.”

It was painful, funny, and liberating. My jokes were not simply jokes; they were often attempts to impress people. And like many attempts to impress, they concealed more than they revealed. I was trying to control how others saw me because I did not trust that the person beneath the performance was worthy of being seen.

I am grateful that this strategy stopped working.

Over time, I began to believe that I was fundamentally good. I discovered that it was safe to be kind, vulnerable, and sometimes silent. As my confidence grew, other people’s jokes became more interesting. So did their tragedies, wisdom, and experiences. I could learn from them once I stopped spending so much energy promoting and defending myself.

This understanding also changes how we respond to harm. Basic goodness does not mean everyone behaves well, nor does compassion require us to excuse wrongdoing. People cause real damage, and accountability matters. But harmful actions often arise from fear, confusion, pain, and a desperate effort to compensate for insecurity. Recognizing this larger picture can help us avoid perpetuating the same suffering.

Between provocation and response, we can create a gap. In that gap, we can ask: What is happening inside me? Do I feel threatened, ashamed, or offended? What do I need? Will my reaction protect anyone, or will it simply continue the cycle?

The Buddhist path asks us to avoid causing harm and, where possible, to alleviate suffering. Each time we pause, pay attention, and choose a compassionate response, we strengthen our confidence. We accumulate evidence that we can meet life without hiding behind perfection, aggression, or performance.

Progress is possible precisely because perfection is unnecessary. Beneath all our masks and mistakes, something worthy remains. Our task is not to manufacture that goodness, but to trust it—and learn to live from it.

True confidence comes from finding our natural strength. Not strength based on egoic principles but strength based on our truth. The confidence of a mountain, an oak tree, or every blade of grass with the strength to be. Just be.

One way to move on the path without engaging (or enraging) our little monsters is to move slowly and have respect for the plateaus. Not moving is an opportunity to restock and regain our inner strength.

Do less in order to do more. Slow down in order to move quickly. Don’t buy into competition or transactional manipulations. Just be you, aware of you, and proud of what you are becoming. Beware stupid pride. Always scan your brain for defensiveness. Let go of stupid pride and relax.

Because you got this.

Posted on by joseph mauricio

WHAT LIES BEYOND?

UNCOVERING WHO WE ARE

The key to understanding ourselves is to employ gentleness. This is important because we are organic beings. We will nurture plants on our windowsill but treat ourselves with a demanding impatience before we’re even out of bed. Pushing ourselves is counterproductive as none of us likes being told what to do. Especially by ourselves.

Coming to know ourselves, and how to work with that person, takes gentleness, patience and commitment. This is not unlike a courtship. Gentleness is key in moving past the watchful guardians of ego. Ego is the wound-tight mental structure intended to help us fit in with a given social milieu. This may change from situation to situation. Unfortunately, ego likes to work undercover and so we have the impression that these faćades are all “me”.  Hence, ego obscures who we really are by making us think everything is about us. This all works smoothly when we feel comfortable and confident. But should we feel challenged, triggered, ‘less than’ or insecure our ego will pull one of it’s strategies from it’s bag of tricks.

Ego has a number of strategies. We might try to impress others so they will admire us. But being admired is not the same as being accepted. And these days humans are tired of competition. Darwinian food-chain climbing is played out. It’s exhausting.

But our intrepid ego remains undaunted. If besting the others fails, we might take a weaker position below them whether that be service or subservience. But whether high or low, ego’s strategies will ultimately fall short because we’re not addressing who we are. You can fool all of me some of the time and some of me all the time. And it might feel like me and it might look like me, but I am not a duck, and never will be.

Somewhere inside, we know it’s not real. Whether it slams us in the face, or festers silently over time, we know we’re playing games. And games have only short term reward.

So what drives this? We were born with a deep biological programming to fit in because there is more protection in the herd. Whether we’re leading the charge, or trailing behind, we have a gripping urge to be ‘part of’. Ego is the structure tasked with helping us fit.

Ego can be helpful if, through deepening meditation practice, we transform self-consciousness into self-awareness and become able to see our social faces. And then, as long as we don’t believe them, we can employ them mindfully. But when ego lies unseen, it can also be very limiting to our growth. Because in order to protect us, it will reduce our frames of awareness down to manageable quanta it can control. This involuntary ignorance narrows our world, but sadly also limits our life.

Frankly, seeing ourselves can be a very de-stabilizing experience.

But self-knowledge is integral to spiritual growth. If we come to know ourselves we may become willing to grow beyond our defenses. This can be scary. Who will we meet there? Who hides below the façade? Who are we before we have a plan? What will happen if we’re not in the game? Will we still be loved? Or will we be hounded into the fields alone?

Breathe out. One step at a time. We’re in a gently insistent courtship with someone we love and, perbaps, would love to know better.

OMG love!? Do we really need to love this being? The comedian Jordan Jensen has a wonderful routine where she says “love myself? I didn’t ask to be with this bitch. I just ended up here.” And for some of us, yes, we’re in a contentious relationship with our closest partner. Maybe we learned that from our upbringing. The schemes of ego replicating what the milieu has shown us. Locked in the trauma dance of ego.

And if we’re genuinely satisfied here then we might live happily unhappily in heated turmoil. A rule of ego is “do what you’ve done, then do it again. Then do it again.” Some of us find abuse comforting. Someone is paying attention. We’re being seen. But is that bruised flinching person really all we are? Or, maybe we’re the rageful abuser?

Actually, our minds are complex enough that we can be both, and still make it to work in the morning. But isn’t this exhausting? And, the saddest part is we’re so caught in the game, we never get to see the truth of who we are. We just see everything covering us, hiding us in the name of protecting us. I truly believe that somewhere in all of that is someone worth caring for. Maybe love is a strong word for someone we’re just coming to know. But with attention, we can begin sense our way in.

Classical Buddhism would say there is no one to find. But maybe that means there is everything to discover. Ego describes the limits of our imagination and, as such, defines the limits of our experience. But maybe we were meant to discover more. Rather than believing the stories we tell ourselves, we can look past them into a world unfolding before us. A world not under our control. We can choose to be part of that unfolding. Or, we choose to remain in the half-light of fear.

Or, we can do both, opening as we can, when we can and then shutting down when it gets too much. And with gentle probing we can coax ourselves into flowering into our Buddha Nature.

We can’t manufacture Buddha Nature. We can’t make it happen because it’s already there. It appears when the clouds part. With patience, we’ll eventually come to trust that openness. And in that openness maybe we’ll feel our essential being. Our Buddha Nature.

And maybe we’ll even fall in love.

Posted on by joseph mauricio

THE IMPROBABILITY OF PURPOSE

Setting an Intention For Our Intention

We sometimes find ourselves off course in life. For me this stems from being off course with my mindfulness practice. If I’m not paying attention now, I’m likely not on track down the line. Without mindfulness intentions will to come and go.

Without grounding in Mindfulness successful outcomes are a statistical improbability.

Some of us have very … um … creative minds. Minds that move in many directions simultaneously and wanders back to the point whenever it gets there. Minds that avoid structure like some kids avoid broccoli. You might call this attention deficit hyperactivity disorder. My therapist for instance.

But, our mind is what we have to work with. And I’ve found it rewarding to do the work. To that end mindfulness became very important to me. I had been ashamed of the way my mind didn’t easily conform to social convention. In time, I found my way into the practice by learning that I needn’t force myself into a boxlike arbitrary stillness in order to be present. While my version of present experience might be more fluid than someone else’s both myself and those theoretical someones need to each find our way to working with our minds.

Working with my mind I realized the importance of being present in order to be present in my life. However, I need to find a way to stay present without feeling as though I’m being tied down or forced into someone else’s brain. The truth is, despite years of meditation training, encouraging my mind to rest in the present remains an ongoing practice. It’s less an accomplishment than an application. A daily manual application.

One technique I find helpful is to encourage my mind the time to have my brain feel its way into the present. Not necessarily emotionally. I mean literally feel. Making mindfulness less a mental exercise than an embodied experience. Through repeated practice, presence becomes less something I remember to do and more something my body begins to recognize and remember. Mindfulness in muscle memory, you might say.

This applies throughout the day as it occurs to us. When opening a door, I can feel my hand on the doorknob. Walking across a room, I can feel my feet making contact with the ground. These small moments of embodiment gently interrupt the momentum of distraction and restore a sense of presence. And presence is reassuring. It reminds the fearful part of the brain not to worry because we’re here.

However, it’s not practical to be locked into this. Mindful presence isn’t something we force or hold onto. It is more a place we can return to. We learn to move naturally through our day while remaining grounded in our experience, by coming back as we need to our feet, our hands, our intention.

Until the mind wanders again, that is.

That’s not failure. That’s what minds do. And we can see it as an opportunity to further embed mindfulness into our neuro-stream. In this case we’re embedding full body purpose. The practice is to recognize when we’ve drifted, accept that and remember to return. With patience with our brain we’ll rewire it to recognize, remember, and return. Then our mind can rest more easily where it is placed.

At this point, I should mention that I’m designating our neurological experience its wiring at the “brain” and our ability to establish a purpose in life and experience a spiritual and creative fullness as “mind.” The brain needs to be rewired to remember to return to the tactile present so thye mind can feel calm and clear.

Over time, this embodied mindfulness begins to translate into everyday living. We don’t have to meditate every waking moment. We simply touch base from time to time by reconnecting with the body in throughout our daily life. Lifting our head from the laptop. Feeling our feet in the earth. Remember we’re human and need encouragement as well as purpose.

I’m referring to this as applied intermittent mindfulness. Or, you might say AIM. And the AIM is to flowing through life with ease. Therefore, just as we are seated in our experience, we can be seated in our purpose. You see, the qualities of unconvention make it easy to drift astray for our purpose. How often do we wake up as if out of a dream wondering, as David Byrne notable asked “how did I get here? … Is this my beautiful life?

Our intentions, no matter how noble, are surprisingly fickle when they exist only as thoughts. We think we can do it. Hahaha the “road to hell” and all that. One reason why we can’t keep on track, go off the diet, or forget to get to the meditation cushion is that it’s only an idea. And an idea without a corresponding action is just a thought. If our intentions are only thinking, no matter how well intended, they will change.

Our intentions become reliable when they’re more deeply rooted in the body. Feeling the breath, the feet, the hands, even for a few seconds, gives our purpose somewhere to land. Instead of chasing lofty ideals, we inhabit them. Mind, body, and intention begin working together, and our aspirations become less theoretical and more lived.

We don’t simply intend to be present, compassionate, or wise—we embody those qualities, grounded in one ordinary moment at a time.

In that way, we build a mindful life.

Posted on by joseph mauricio

WARTS AND ALL

A Living Buddha

The notion of a living Buddha is that following the Buddhist path our relationship with the Buddha is alive, experiential and developmental. We are not relating to a thing, an icon or an idea. We are relating to a living part of ourselves.

This is a present tense experience happening whenever we remember. This connection is presently knowing, understanding and caring for ourselves and our world. The work in our daily meditation practice is to develop the capacity to remember this True Nature of ours and to learn to trust it. And, hence, learn to trust ourselves.

And, we don’t have to shine our shoes, watch our manners, cut our hair, or do anything other than be who we are as we are.

I often made the mistake of thinking that becoming one with the Buddha meant my body, spirit and mind had to become something else, something perfect. But I’ve come to realize that connecting to Buddha means accepting of all of me.  The parts I’m proud of and the parts I’m embarrassed by; the things I do that are virtuous and many things that are selfish and petty. There’s little value to waking up in our brain and having lots of pristine ideas about realization, if our body and heart are unable to follow.  So we need all of us talking to the rest of us and no one left behind.

Buddha Nature is the notion that our truest, most fundamental nature is perfect, free of obstruction, neurosis, duplicity and hatred. Those add-ons come from our social upbringing and seem to be devised to help us navigate the world around us. But, as we know, these patterns are not always helpful. In fact, they are primarily defensive and quite limiting. They keep our potential dampened and cause us to live lives much smaller than they might be.

But, how can we transcend these patterns, defenses and defects if we don’t see them? Buddha means “Awake” – the base of our Buddha Nature is wisdom, which is seeing, understanding and knowing. The method of our liberation from limiting patterns and ignorance is to see them and know them. These patterns grow in our ignorance of them. But if we’re able to expose them and are willing to see them, eventually we’ll grow tired of them and they will fall away. Our neurosis is part of our connection with the Buddha. In Tibetan Buddhism they see neurosis as an offering.

Buddhism has progressive stages of development. Each of these has a different relationship between the student and the Buddha. The first sees the Buddha as a leader and an example someone who has liberated themselves from ego suffering, thus affording others the opportunity to follow. The second stage relates to the teachings of compassion. From this point of view Buddha is seen as a transcendent being who radiates love and compassion for all beings. We are encouraged to nurture the seed of Buddha Nature within ourselves.

The third relationship to the Buddha is based on the teachings of luminosity and emptiness. These indicate that our full experience is a manifestation of the mind of the Buddha. There is no separation between us. And that all beings have Buddha nature. And we can learn to recognize Buddha Nature as our basic nature. From this point of view, there is nothing to change, nothing to develop and nowhere to go. We need only remember who we are.

The Bodhisattva Shantideva wrote, “may I not be a stain on the faultless noble family (of the Buddha).”  But what would cause a stain? I think this is different in Buddhism than it might be in other religious contexts. In Buddhism the primary “sin” is ignorance. Ignorance leads to negative actions caused by not knowing. So, our process is to expose these actions by accepting that we do them and to cease pretending otherwise.

The “stains” on the noble family would be to turn away from our allegiance to waking up. This is when we willfully choose not to know. It is when we shut down, turn away, and cut ourselves off from the vibrant source of wisdom in the universe, our Buddha Nature. And if we do cut ourselves off from our Buddha Nature? The remedy is to recognize this, and to remember. Simply that.

When we lose our mind, we come back.

The word for meditation in many traditions also means recollection. Remembering our connection. Remembering who we are. Recognizing when we are deluded and remembering who we are. In time, coming back, coming back, coming back cuts through the veils of our ignorance. We begin to see the parts of our being that are defenses and the part of our being that is indestructible. In time, our allegiance will change and we will begin to identify with our true nature.

In some traditions a deity offers salvation and a seat at the table of endless perfection. This is seen as our future reward. But, Buddhism is about what’s happening now.  The Living Buddha is something we feel in the moment, because it is something we are. There is nothing we need to change. And nothing we need to do but remember.

We can wake up sitting on the toilet with our head in our hands after a very full night of not -so-wakeful activity. We could wake up in a job we hate. We could wake up walking through crowds in our aggressive city. We could wake up making love to someone. We could wake up in the morning. We could wake up in the evening. We could wake up literally anytime we remember.

It’s possible that that moment of clarity might cause us to be embarrassed or self-conscious. But if, in that of authentic moment of awake, we  just see ourselves “in process” with love and affection, then we are seeing through the eyes of the Buddha at all our goodness and imperfection.

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