While Buddhism may see the end of all suffering (nirvana) as the final goal, ordinary Buddhists often see themselves on the path of trainings to reduce negative actions and promote positive ones in order to reduce ordinary suffering in this life and create conditions for a good rebirth. Just as the experiments with Buddhist forms of training in wisdom in the first part of the course prepare students for the assignment of telling a story of how suffering arises from a Buddhist point of view, so the experiments with training in forms of thought, action, and practice drawn from the Buddhist teachers and communities encountered in the second part of the course. What we study in this section forms the basis for an assignment describing how suffering may be stopped or prevented by training in Buddhist forms wisdom, ethics, and meditation.
Each of the experiments in the second part of the course builds on the foundational teachings of the early Buddhist canon we studied in the first part of the course. Having experimented with these forms of training in wisdom demonstrated in the life and early teachings of the Buddha to analyze how suffering arises and might theoretically be stopped, we go on to experiment with approaches to ethics and meditation likewise demonstrated in these canonical sources, and in the new forms of thought, ethics and practices that emerge to present the dharma in the expanding historical contexts and communities in which Buddhism develops across Asia and beyond.
4.1. Seeing, Contemplating and Practicing Meditation: The Dhamma Brothers
In order to consider the ways in which Buddhist training in meditation is used not only to achieve enlightenment but to stop or prevent suffering for ordinary beings, students watch the documentary
The Dhamma Brothers (
Phillips et al. 2007). They also read related material on Vipassana (
Keown 2013) and the Pali Suttas that introduce the techniques of the four foundations of mindfulness and the concentration on breathing that are taught in the film.
The Dhamma Brothers assists the transition to our experiments with meditation, ethics and wisdom by outlining the strategies of Buddhist training in wisdom, introducing a community or sangha, and “the teachings of the Buddha” on meditation, while also raising the question of what it means to be Buddhist. The film focuses on telling the stories of four men in a maximum-security prison who take part in an experiment with a ten-day course in Vipassana and the subsequent development of their ongoing practice over a number of years. Students have the opportunity to glimpse the process of the men’s journeys to be free of suffering in a compelling way that adds a contemporary human dimension to what they witnessed the life of the Buddha. Students are likewise enabled to integrate their theoretical understanding of how meditation might work to stop suffering with the evidence of the human dimension of these stories. The actual process men such as Edward and Grady are able to use to tolerate the challenging feelings of pain they experience rather than reacting to them with the aggression, attachment or denial that would cause further suffering is both instructive and often moves students to deepen their studies.
The benefits the men in the film enjoy as a result of their practices, such as the relief and sense of peace that comes from releasing long buried wounds and anger, and the ability to respond to challenging emotions in ways that transforms their lives, naturally inspire students to consider experimenting with such practices themselves. The film presents a practice of mindfulness of breathing, which emphasizes concentration on the breath in order to prepare the practitioner to work deeply with sensations in the body subsequently explored in Vipassana. Edward says
this practice “opens up the head” and “helps you think about you.” (
Phillips et al. 2007) One of the volunteer instructors describes the practice of Vipassana as simply “to see things as they are—to see the reality inside yourself as it is, which as he says is often not a very pleasant experience.” Once one has the training to experience their feelings and sensations in the body they are able to just observe them and not react to them in habitual ways. “It’s a choice”, another man explains, about the skills he has gained to reject negative impulses in challenging situations, “Vipassana gave me the opportunity to make a choice about how I act.” The human dimension presented in the narrative context of these scenes in the film illustrates how the techniques we read about in the Pali suttas and in chapters on meditation in Gethin and Keown work, and so helps students integrate foundational knowledge with the experiential evidence the men in the film provide.
Students who choose to perform this experiment in meditation use a ten-minute video by S.N. Goenka (
Goenka 2014) to guide them in the practice of concentration on the breath described in the film and the
Anapanasati Sutta.
7 As is common in practices focused on concentration in many traditions, they are instructed to simply notice any thoughts or feelings that occur, and then come back to the breath. Students experiment with this mindfulness of breathing technique once a day for approximately one week. They take notes and report on what they experienced, using the film and readings to clearly describe the exercise.
While there are at generally at least five different forms of meditation students can experiment with in the course, including forms of Zen and Tibetan traditions, they all share a form of the foundational practice introduced in the films, emphasizing the importance of the effort, concentration and mindfulness that are the three steps of the eightfold path outlined in the life and early teachings of the Buddha we have discussed previously. The example of The Dhamma Brothers is especially helpful in introducing students to the importance of effort in meditation due to the challenges practitioners describe, particularly in the context of the ten-day retreat in a maximum-security prison. While many students have tried meditation in the past, they often describe the challenges they have found in pursuing a consistent practice. Practicing Vipassana is an ongoing process, as one of the teachers explains, since “negativity doesn’t necessarily pass away … it’s a lifelong effort.” Yet, it obviously pays off in such circumstances as one of the men describes,
“I got life without parole. I was seeking to escape—violent—life in constant turmoil. And, this is like a break from everything. This is like freedom. It’s setting me free.”
Such examples along with the insights students gain from their own experiment with meditation may help to inspire students to persist, knowing that the benefits of such training may come until long after their experiments in the course have ended.
4.2. Putting Intentions to Stop Suffering into Action: Choosing, Refining and Observing Vows
While meditation is the emphasis of the Vipassana practice described in The Dhamma Brothers, it is closely connected with the ethics required to have the kind of life in which it can be practiced. Thus the film highlights the way that clarity of mind allows for moral choices that prevent us from creating the conditions of suffering we want to avoid.
The first of three experiments on ethics asks students to consider the five precepts as they work in The Dhamma Brothers and in the excerpts from the Vinaya we’ve read in the Pali canon and background from Gethin and Keown. Students have the opportunity to experiment with taking vows, as the Brothers did during the retreat (i.e., with the idea that they may be beneficial, but not in order to become Buddhists). They choose one of these five vows they think might be helpful in stopping or preventing a form of suffering that concerns them and observe it for approximately one week. They are also invited to add details they think will help them to observe the vow, like those we have seen in the monastic precepts in the Pali canon. Since studying and contemplating one’s vows is not as straightforward as it may seem, students are asked to keep a journal to note when they are faced with questions or choices that threaten their chosen vow throughout the day. If they have upheld their vows for the day they should note this. If they think they have broken their vow, they are invited to retake it and start again just as monastics do to recommit themselves each month on the new moon and full moon. Students then report on what they experienced in using the readings to introduce the technique and some details of what happened and how they believe it might work to stop a form of suffering that concerns them.
Experiments with taking Buddhist vows helps students integrate what they have learned about Buddhist doctrine with Buddhist practice and to expand their understanding of how these work. For example, some of the experiential insight students gain in this experiment comes from their reflection on the ways in which intention affects action and its consequences. This helps integrate foundational knowledge about karma with its more subtle manifestations. The realization that it is difficult to keep vows without paying attention to what one is doing helps students understand how precepts are not simply obedience to rules but practices for developing mindfulness. The fact that students often find themselves breaking their vows provides the context for understanding that Buddhists are no more “enlightened” than anyone else. Finally, the practice of taking vows also helps to introduce some of the ways Buddhist misconduct is distinct from Christian sin. While keeping one’s vows may involve virtue and avoidance of wrongdoing, Buddhists are not commanded to do so by a moral authority. Precepts are voluntary observances, which one actively chooses to uphold. Rituals for repairing broken vows on the new moon and full moon of each month demonstrate how keeping Buddhist vows is a process involving trial and error.
Students are invited to consider how they might design their own vows to address specific forms of suffering, just as Buddhist monastic traditions lay out specific instructions to protect the intentions of members of the community. One student reflecting on the sufferings caused in relationships suggests, “I could make a vow to avoid the lounge, where that guy who is always flirting with me hangs out, if I want to be faithful to my boyfriend at home.” Reducing the possibility of interactions that might involve craving that leads to suffering presents both a practical way to prevent suffering and a more refined view of how Buddhists use vows to support themselves and others.
4.3. Chanting, Contemplating and Experiencing Non-Dual Wisdom: Going Beyond Fear of Gun Violence
While the training in wisdom we’ve used to consider how suffering arises in the first part of the course works with the logic of the foundational teachings of the Buddha, Mahayana approaches to wisdom, which we explore in the second part of the course, introduce new ways of reading that work beyond logic. These Mahayana approaches to textuality including negation, paradox, and poetic techniques intended to break down the conceptual thinking that may limit the perfection of wisdom and thus hinder one’s capacity to go completely beyond suffering.
Given the Mahayana’s ambition to go further to “perfect wisdom’’ in this way, I invite students to consider some of the more challenging topics that concern them for our experiments with Mahayana Buddhist forms of thought. While I have previously encouraged students to avoid topics that might be overwhelming or traumatizing, I do not want to neglect the importance of facing other forms of suffering they actually want to confront that often arise in our discussions. Buddhist teachings stress the importance of facing suffering directly, rather than denying or avoiding it. For example, while the anxiety caused by students’ exposure to gun violence, whether in their own Philadelphia communities or forms of police or mass shootings in the news, may be explained using the logic we have explored previously, facing a fear of death from a Buddhist point of view may require a different kind of wisdom than that one might use to address other forms of anxiety.
We use the Heart Sutra, as commonly chanted in Mahayana traditions, for this experiment with non-dual Buddhist Forms of Thought as we used the Wheel of Life and its commentaries previously. The Heart Sutra is a text that is chanted and taught in both more traditional and modern Buddhist traditions. Thich Nhat Hanh’s commentary is read for its accessibility to contemporary students, and its engaged Buddhist approach that tends to speak directly to student concerns about suffering.
8 The Heart Sutra, Hanh explains
“isn’t an intellectual exercise; it is a matter of our liberation”
In order to understand how this text may help us to “find insight into our actual situation and liberate ourselves from our afflictions, suffering and fear”, as Hanh suggests, I invite students to read, contemplate and put this work into practice, according to Buddhist methods we’ve applied previously.
Reading the Sutra in the way that is common in Zen and many Tibetan Buddhist temples today means chanting it. While we have discussed the importance of chanting in the oral traditions through which the early teachings of the Buddha were gathered and transmitted, and have heard contemporary Buddhists performing chants in Pali and Tibetan (as in the film The Wheel of Life), I am mindful of the way reciting scripture may bring up associations with Christian traditions of prayer or professions of faith. These associations might deter students from participating in such an exercise, even if the text itself is not explicitly devotional. While I would not suggest that students recite any sort of text that might mark them as a Buddhist, such as the vow of taking refuge in the Buddha, dharma and sangha, the Heart Sutra is a very different sort of text. I reassure them that this text is not a profession of faith or a creed. If anything, I point out, the Heart Sutra appears to negate the foundational truths of Buddhism we have studied so far.
In order to read (i.e., recite) the Sutra in the way common in Zen traditions, I hand out copies of the Heart Sutra used by the Kuan Um School, which is simplified for rhythmic recitation in English. I remind students that they are not required to try the experiment if it makes them uncomfortable, and that chanting the Heart Sutra will not make them Buddhists. The point is to allow them to experiment with how this Mahayana Sutra might work according to Hanh, to “find insight into our actual situation and liberate ourselves from our afflictions, suffering and fear,” such as that caused by gun violence. Finally, to make sure that students are not concerned about chanting something they do not understand, I expand on Hanh’s commentary, translating the Sanskrit mantra at the end of the Sutra, “gate gate pāragate pārasamgate bodhi svāhā” which means “gone, gone, gone beyond, gone completely beyond,” the limitations of our concepts to the state of “bodhi” or awakened mind/heart that “svāhā” affirms is (“so it is”) possible.
I ask the students to stand for this recitation since this is part of what Buddhists do in the contemporary Zen tradition with which we are experimenting. Standing up is also helpful in taking students out of the habits of sitting and reading a text on one’s own or in class. They often laugh a bit, which allows for release of anxiety about what they are going to do. I then lead the students who elect to join in the experiment in chanting the syllables of the Sutra to the lively beat of a wooden temple block as a recording of the Kwan Um School plays in the background.
9 The chanting of the members of the Kwan Um School provides a robust chorus that encourages quieter students to join in. As soon as we sit down again, I invite students to pause in meditation, if they choose, as would be traditional in many Zen traditions, to see how this chanting might impact this meditation, or simply reflect on their experience of this Buddhist approach to reading.
What was it like? I then ask students to report. What does the text do? I ask. How does it make you feel? What is happening as we chant it? Students often note the unsettling feeling produced by chanting, “No eyes, no ears, no nose, no tongue, no body, no mind.” They also express confusion about the negation of the Four Truths and the Eightfold Path that explains how freedom from suffering is attained. This is the essence of the Buddha’s teaching we have previously discussed. How could the confusion provoked by a text like this be helpful from a Buddhist point of view?
The way the Sutra works to take the mind beyond the comfort zone of ordinary assumptions becomes clearer as we read and discuss Hanh’s commentary. As he writes, “If the wave only sees its form, with its beginning and end, it will be afraid of birth and death. But if the wave sees that it is water and identifies itself with the water, then it will be emancipated from birth and death” (
Hanh 2009, p. 24). In our discussion of Hanh’s commentary students begin to see how chanting the Sutra undermines the dualistic structures in conventional thinking that obscure the reality of the “interbeing” Chanting the mantra demonstrates how one might take on the bodhisattva’s point of view that has “gone, gone, gone beyond, gone completely beyond,” ordinary ways of seeing life and death. Students thus have an opportunity to reflect on how the practice of experiencing “No eyes, no ears, no nose, no tongue, no body, no mind” again and again might work to familiarize them with a state of being that no longer clings to the loss of self that might occur as a result of gun violence.
4.4. Putting Non-Dual Wisdom into Practice: Racism-Can Mindfulness Change Our Minds?
The second experiment which attempts to put Mahayana forms of non-dual wisdom into practice addresses the challenging problem of racism. Training in conceptual forms of wisdom, ethics and meditation in Buddhist traditions may be helpful in understanding and responding to racism, as readings by contemporary African American Buddhists in distinct traditions, such as Gaylon Ferguson (
Ferguson 2006), bell hooks (
hooks 2006) and Rhonda Magee (
Magee 2019) suggest. Such approaches may not be enough on their own, of course, since racism is a structural problem, and implicit biases continue to operate beyond our conscious levels of awareness.
In this experiment we combine a form of meditation that has been shown to reduce racist bias in white college students (
Lueke and Gibson 2014) with instructions on Zen that highlight the non-duality of self and other. I begin by asking students who wish to participate to get up from their desks (again inviting them out of the habits familiar to the classroom) and find a person in the room whom they do not know well, who seems at least superficially different from themselves. The students and their partners are then instructed to find a place in the room where they feel comfortable and sit facing each other in pairs. They are instructed that it is all right to laugh, as the exercise may feel awkward at first. They are free to leave their eyes open or close them. Their goal is to simply to support one another in a short practice of meditation.
We begin with instructions on posture drawn from Shunryu Suzuki’s
Zen Mind Beginner’s Mind (
Suzuki 2009). This involves mindfulness of the body: sitting upright; not leaning forward, back, or to the side; alert yet relaxed, as if “holding up the sky” with one’s head. As students adjust their postures to the furniture of the classroom, I invite them to notice their feet on the ground, their weight on the seat of the chair, and other sensations. They are then asked to lower their gaze, or close their eyes, so that they are aware of their partners, yet not looking at anyone or anything in particular. We focus on mindfulness of the breath, noting the way the air flows in and out of the body. Students are instructed to bring their attention back to a focus on the breath each time their minds wander to a thought, sound, or feeling. According to Buddhist theories of meditation we have studied, such a practice focuses and calms the mind. This is said to open up the possibility of insight or seeing things as they actually are.
In the second part of this experiment, students extend their experience of the breath inside and outside the body to their experience of self and other in the room. As Shunryu Suzuki describes it, “you” and “I” are just “swinging doors” through which air flows in and out. “You is the universe in the shape of you”, and “I is the universe in the shape of I,” he explains (
Suzuki 2009, p. 29). With this reflection in mind, and the idea that according to Buddhists we are always projecting our experience of self and other, I then ask the students to imagine their partners, whom they have chosen for their apparent difference, through the key stages of their lives.
Students first contemplate their partners as a baby, as they themselves once were. As I remind them that this may be awkward and that laughter is okay, I invite them to consider possible details, such as a bald head or fuzzy hair. I emphasize that they are just making this up. Asking students to consider others in these phases of life as they once were invites them to consider their projections as we have read in Zen Mind Beginner’s Mind: how the “universe in the shape of I” constructs a “universe in the shape of you.” Students contemplate their partner as a child on a playground, in a moment of happiness or sadness, and in a moment of awkwardness in the halls of high school. After a brief glimpse to look up at each other as they are now, students conclude the exercise by simply thanking their partner and returning to their seats.
The experience of exchanging self with other may feel too intimate to be immediately shared. It is common, in subsequent reflections, for students to express surprise at how deeply they seemed to experience this person they did not really know. One student commented that it felt like the first time a stranger had looked beyond her hijab at her humanity. Whether or not the experiment has any lasting impact on racism, it provides at least a glimpse of how forms of insight experienced in Buddhist meditation might, at least temporarily, reduce the distance between self and other in which bias operates.