spiritual friendship

The art of ditching old friends, and of finding new ones

May 17, 2010

What do you do when you find you’ve changed — but your friends haven’t? Bodhipaksa recounts how he found himself growing apart from one set of friends, and closer to a new set who were more supportive of his spiritual quest.

I was at university when I started practicing Buddhism. I was surrounded by fellow students who were like me. We thought the height of happiness was to party, to drink, to trade insults, and to find someone to have sex with. I was at vet school, and most of us thought that meat-eating was natural and right, and that animals existed in order to be devoured. When I took up meditation I found myself changing. Over time I started to find myself more at home with the people who hung out at my local Buddhist center — people who were vegetarian, interested in philosophy and meaningful conversations, and people who valued tranquility as an opportunity to deepen self-awareness.

I started to find many (although not all) of the people that I used to hang out with at college to be rather negative and shallow. Their conversations often didn’t interest me. Since I hadn’t gone very deep in my practice, I was rather judgmental, and socially inept to boot. I experienced a lot of ill will towards people because they weren’t spiritual enough, which is rather richly ironic. This caused me a lot of pain, and probably didn’t make others happy either.

Thinking that we’re ‘spiritual’ while others aren’t is an ego trip.

But I was relatively lucky in that I made new friends in the Buddhist community, and had a gradual switch over from one set of friends to another. I experienced tensions between the two communities I was involved in, but at least I wasn’t isolated. A lot of people find themselves in a similar situation as they begin to practice. They start to find their work colleagues gossipy and trivial. They can find that family members resent the fact that they’re changing. How do we deal with this?

I think you have some valuable spiritual opportunities when we’re in this kind of situation. One opportunity is to practice patience with your old friends. It’s good to remember that at one time you did fit in with them, and at that time presumably you had much the same conversational style and interests as they still have. Thinking that we’re “spiritual” while others aren’t is an ego trip.

Another opportunity we have is to learn to be more skilled in communication. This can have a big effect on people. I had a friend in Scotland of whom I can honestly say that I never heard him criticizing anyone at any time. In fact if he heard me being critical then he would almost always present another point of view about the person or thing I was criticizing, which shifted the perspective and really brought me up short. And he did this in a very friendly way that gave me no cause for reactivity. He never pointed out, for example, that I was being critical — he just quietly came in with a more considered point of view. I’d suddenly realize that I had been unkind and one-sided in my speech.

We frequently overlook the positive, especially when we develop a habit of judging others.

And there’s an art as well in steering people into deeper levels of conversation. You can bring the topic back into focus when people are wandering off into other areas. You can ask questions to go deeper (basically being a good, active listener). You can challenge in a friendly way. If you’re challenging how the group as a whole communicates, then it’s far better to talk in terms of how “we” communicate rather than how “you” communicate. You can share something deeper from your own experience (although you have to be careful about this since it’s not helpful to offer up your soul to be trampled on). You have the opportunity to be, in short, a leader — the proverbial one-eyed man in the kingdom of the blind.

We can also practice “rejoicing in merits,” or “giving positive feedback”, as it’s more commonly known. We frequently overlook the positive, especially when we develop a habit of judging others. When we’ve decided that other people are “unspiritual” we can find ourselves focusing on what we consider to be their faults, and filtering out anything positive that they do. Our perceptions of others can be very selective. People are “stubborn” when they stick with a point of view we don’t agree with; they’re “committed” when they stick with a point of view we find favor with. People are “fickle” if they change their minds and disagree with us; they’re flexible when they change their minds and support our opinions. We need to learn to see the positive in others, and also to support its development. Tell someone she’s just done something that’s friendly, and she’s more likely to act in a friendly way in the future.

Tell someone she’s just done something that’s friendly, and she’s more likely to act in a friendly way in the future.

If, as sometimes happens, we find ourselves stuck with “old” friends but haven’t found a new community to practice with, we have an opportunity to seek out people who are more like-minded. We may have to take the initiative and to be more out-going, rather than hoping people will magically find us. If we make the first move, the magic may well happen. I had a lovely experience some years ago when I was speaking at a conference in Missoula. At lunch time someone sat beside me (because I looked friendly, he said). It turned out that he, like me, had recently moved to Missoula, he had lived in Scotland (my homeland), had an interest in the relationship between Buddhism and business (my master’s degree topic), and had like me run a retreat center. It was rather eerie, and of course we’ve been friends ever since. But I had to make the decision to go to the conference, and be open to meeting new people.

But there may be some of the people that you currently hang out with that you don’t want to maintain contacts with. That would be a very sensible thing to do. The Buddha was forever warning people to hang out with friends who would actually support and encourage what is best in you rather than undermine it. If people have a very negative effect on you, despite your best efforts, those are relationships you may want to put behind you. At the same time there’s no point in isolating yourself. You need to find a balance.

“Natural Wakefulness: Discovering the Wisdom We Were Born With” by Gaylon Ferguson

May 13, 2009

Pam Dodd

reviews

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A new book by Gaylon Ferguson argues that the biggest obstacle to natural wakefulness is the materialism that has us all in its grip, and that meditation and spiritual community are the antidotes. Pam Dodd is our guest reviewer.

Gaylon Ferguson, a Tibetan Buddhist meditation master, has studied and taught meditation for over 30 years. During that time, he has probably met all kinds of people from all walks of life who have actively pursued, or fallen onto, the spiritual path. Ferguson believes that the normal human condition is natural or basic wakefulness. Wakefulness is the fundamental goodness of who we really are, independent of our circumstances, that lies dormant in each of us, waiting to be actualized.

Unfortunately most of us have learned from infancy to be distracted by thoughts and feelings that keep us reacting to life automatically, like robots. We get stuck in the past. We fantasize and daydream. We think incessantly, allowing our monkey mind to jump wherever it pleases. Ferguson calls these habitual patterns reruns. We blindly move through our lives, in prisons of our own making, and we don’t even know it. Looking outside ourselves for our inner well-being, we live with a restlessness that never goes away.

Title: Natural Wakefulness: Discovering the Wisdom We Were Born With
Author: Gaylon Ferguson
Publisher: Shambhala
ISBN: 978-1-59030-657-4
Available from: Shambhala and Amazon.com.

The way to wake up from this “sleepwalking” state is not by trying to force or fix ourselves but by gently befriending ourselves in the practice of lovingkindness that is meditation.

Meditation is a commitment to being here now, no matter what. It’s accepting ourselves exactly where we are, working with what’s available in us, and bringing ourselves back to the present again and again whenever we our minds wander. Ferguson maintains that “sitting quietly in meditation is the best research lab to observe the mind’s behavior when it isn’t being interrupted” (p.98).

Meditation is nothing special. Yet if practiced consistently and regularly, it wakes us up to the basic goodness of our lives, not while we’re squirreled away in some far off, quiet sanctuary, but in the midst of living out the ups and downs of each ordinary, busy day.

Ferguson goes to great lengths to provide useful insights and instructions to the practitioner (for the reader of this book must be an active practitioner if the lessons are truly to be learned). It’s clear he knows the ins and outs of meditation.

Practicing awareness is a stepping stone to radical social change

After the initial chapters on wakefulness and natural training, the middle chapters cover guided exercises, reflections, stories, and student questions on the most important aspects of meditation practice. Central to the book’s approach is the idea of “bare noticing.” This is not “thinking about,” reflection, deliberation, or theorizing, but rather the application of one’s unadorned attention to what currently is. Bare noticing is the basis of mindfulness, the uncluttered appreciation of the fullness of being human.

The book’s meditation lessons start with guided training on mindfulness of the physical body and breathing and move on to mindfulness of mind and mindfulness of feelings.

Along the way we learn how important it is not to be too tight or too loose; how to touch the texture of our emotions; how to lean in to unacceptable thoughts and feelings without being hooked by them; and how respectfully to watch the inner critic or voice of judgment that continuously comments on and criticizes what we think, say, and do.

The last two chapters discuss two central contexts for awakening, the nightmare of materialism and the spirit of community.

Ferguson maintains that the biggest obstacle to natural wakefulness is the world of materialism that has us all in its grips. He traces the roots of our constant sense of inadequacy, anxiety, and feeling like something is missing to our neurotic pursuits and thinking. We “fake it,” putting on masks to compensate for what we think we lack. We constantly chase after physical comfort, security, and pleasure. We rely on belief systems and concepts to filter our perceptions. We become addicted to altered or higher states of consciousness through drugs, prayer, yoga, and even meditation.

One antidote to materialism is genuine community. Communities of sanity, generosity, and celebration help us learn how to overcome a sense of scarcity and fear. In community, we work productively with our attention, care, and concern as we learn how to be present with others’ strong feelings without running away or trying to fix things. We nurture the compassionate heart, strengthening our wishes for the well-being of others. We learn to be skillful, waking up into trust and living courageously with others. In this larger sense, “practicing awareness is a stepping stone to radical social change” (p. 170).

Bare noticing is the basis of mindfulness, the uncluttered appreciation of the fullness of being human.

The hopeful message of Natural Wakefulness is much needed in today’s stressful times. Unfortunately, the book’s structure gets in the way of a full appreciation of its wisdom and lessons.

First, the wording of the chapter titles is too abstract. The clearer descriptive subtitles would have made better titles. Also subheadings throughout the book are uneven; some make sense while others are too vague.

This lack of clarity carries over to the numbering of the guided contemplations and exercises, which doesn’t follow a consistent style from chapter to chapter. Also, the exercises would have stood out more if each had been put in boxes or otherwise highlighted so the practitioner could return to them easily. The same goes for the valuable question-and-answer exchanges; their inconsistent formatting is distracting, making it difficult to follow the insights meant to support the main instruction.

Other issues include the lack of a bibliography, a few muddled metaphors and analogies, and several abrupt or incomplete transitions that leave the reader hanging.

Last, teaching meditation necessarily involves using abstract language. While much of this language may be familiar to the seasoned meditation practitioner, it can be difficult for the neophyte. Add the burden of structural issues like this book has, and despite the great content, it will be a challenge for some to read.

Pamela Dodd has practiced Korean Zen Buddhism since the mid-1990s. She’s always returning to beginner’s mind as her love of learning takes her into new fields of knowledge.

Pam has a master’s degree in social work and a Ph.D. in organizational psychology. She’s the co-author of The 25 Best Time Management Tools & Techniques, an Amazon bestseller.

“Razor-Wire Dharma” by Calvin Malone

May 4, 2009

Sarvananda

reviews

For some inmates imprisonment offers an opportunity to reflect on the causes and conditions that have shaped their lives, and a powerful incentive to bring about personal change. Calvin Malone’s first book, Razor Wire Dharma, elegantly and powerfully outlines the challenges and rewards of practicing behind bars.

Calvin Malone began practicing meditation and Buddhism soon after he entered prison — about twenty years ago. In “Razor Wire Dharma,” he gives an account of time served, of fellow prisoners, and of his attempts to practice the Buddha’s teaching in this most challenging of environments.

And challenges Calvin Malone has encountered in plenty. In a series of short and very readable chapters, he describes the difficulties inherent in prison life and, as a Buddhist, the patience, tolerance and sympathy such a life demands of him.

Title: Razor-Wire Dharma
Author: Calvin Malone
Publisher: Wisdom Publications
ISBN: 0-86171-563-2
Available from: Wisdom Publications or Amazon.com.

The regimented, and sometimes baffling, routine of life behind the wire is conveyed with insight, compassion and humour. But he never underestimates the suffering of prison existence. Nor the extent to which that suffering impinges on his Buddhist practice. He tells us, for example, that a significantly large percentage of the prison population is made up of the mentally ill, the addicted and the psychologically damaged. Given this fact, his Buddhist practice of loving kindness is challenged, on a moment to moment basis, by an “endless onslaught of hatred, indifference and anguish.” But the power of Razor-Wire Dharma consists in Malone’s ability to demonstrate that a good and ethical life can flower in such extremely difficult circumstances. Perhaps even because of the extremity of the circumstances.

Malone’s observations are always interesting and perceptive, conveyed in a deceptively simple style which often nails an aspect of prison life with precision and clarity. As in this passage, where he’s writing about the constant flow of arrivals and departures amongst the prison population:

This constant upheaval forces one to be alert to potential danger, scams, or the unexpected. If you take a risk and attempt to connect with a human being, that relationship is under constant scrutiny by those too bored to find something more productive to do. The fluidity of any prison population makes for short-lived associations. The only constant is the ticking of the clock.

Despite this, Malone manages to make some strong friendships in prison. His associations and friendships with his fellow prisoners and cellmates are described in a winning, often humorous, but always kindly way. Calvin Malone obviously values friendship and his genuine compassion and concern for others very much shines through. For me, the descriptions of the people he meets in prison are the most engaging parts of the book. Malone manages to describe their individual personalities and eccentricities very well and he sees the good in even the most difficult inmate who can, if nothing else, provide him with an incentive to practice meditation harder!

Malone demonstrates that a good and ethical life can flower in extremely difficult circumstances

So we meet Munny, who escaped from Cambodia with his family, but who found life in America confusing and unsettling; Hacksaw, of the hacking cough and clumsy manners; Shawn, who has a horrific history of physical and psychological abuse; Derick, who has lived a life on the streets…

Some of these stories don’t end happily. Malone doesn’t sentimentalize and it’s fitting that he doesn’t just include the stories where meditation or Buddhist practice has a positive or transformative effect. But there are plenty of “transformative” stories too and they are conveyed very movingly. Particularly poignant are those episodes in which Malone, through his Buddhist practice, manages to facilitate some breakthrough in communication with another inmate, testifying both to the power of the Buddha’s teaching and Calvin Malone’s exemplification of it.

Occasionally I longed to hear the prisoners own voices a bit more. When we do hear those voices, it’s delightful. For example, we are given a description of the aggressive (and rather scary) character of “Bulldog,” who Malone invites to his little Christmas party and who, like the elephant, doesn’t forget. When Bulldog meets Malone in another prison, he gives him a crushing hug and tells Malone he now knows what “Booty-hists” (Buddhists) are…

“Oh?” I yelled. “What are we?”

“Santa Clauses without the suit,” he shouted, then laughed and walked out of my life.

Such snatches of dialogue add to the already authentic descriptions of the characters, but they are fairly rare. Usually Malone just reports conversations, which means such exchanges can lack vitality. He misses a chance to make his colorful descriptions of character even more colorful.

Razor-Wire Dharma will be an inspirational book for any prisoners who are trying to meditate or practice Buddhism. Indeed Calvin Malone’s approachable style could make the book accessible for anyone attempting to lead a lifestyle in prison which goes beyond mere self concern and survival.

It is also relevant for those on the other side of the wire. As the editor says in the preface, “Whether we are in prison or not, there is not much difference between us; it is more a matter of difference in degree than kind.” In this respect, “Razor-Wire Dharma” serves as more than just sensation value for those to whom prison may be a foreign experience. The extreme nature of Malone’s situation highlights what meditation and Buddhist practice is there for. For beginners to meditation and Buddhism, Calvin Malone provides practical advice and illuminating insights. For those of us who have been practicing for longer, the account of his experiences may provoke us to reflect on our Buddhist practice. To what extent is it really challenged? How would we respond to some of the situations described in the book?

Calvin Malone is a writer of integrity and insight and I sincerely hope that “Razor-Wire Dharma” attracts a wide readership in prisons – and beyond. It deserves it.

Sarvananda was born in Scotland and is a member of the Western Buddhist Order. He lives in Norwich, England.

Under the name Alastair Jessiman he is a noted writer of plays for radio, who has had many of his works produced by the BBC. His most recent production is Boxer and Doberman, a comedy police drama, which was described by the Telegraph as “funny in a wonderfully macabre way.” Sarvananda has taught meditation and Buddhism in prison.

Being an introvert in an extroverted world

October 23, 2008

Sunada Takagi

on practice

Introverts can feel at a disadvantage when everybody else around them seems so comfortably extroverted. But Sunada feels that the world benefits from the influence of qualities that come naturally to introverts. She explores ways that quieter types can be more “out there” without having to compromise who they really are.

Are you an introvert? When you’re feeling tired or stressed out, do you prefer to be by yourself – and do things like curl up with a book, soak in a hot bath, or go for a walk alone? If you’re a meditator, chances are pretty good you’ve got introvert tendencies. I definitely do.

We pause and reflect before we speak … we’re conscientious and loyal … our friendships are strong and deep. In a world where many are feeling overwhelmed by busyness and disappointed by superficiality, how could these qualities not be valuable?

But the world out there is mostly extroverted. I’ve heard that 75% of Americans are extroverts (though it varies from culture to culture). I used to work in business, where that percentage is even higher. Our world tends to reward extrovert qualities, like the ability to chat easily with strangers, be outgoing, and constantly on the move. If you look up “introvert” in a thesaurus you get the following synonyms: brooder, egotist, loner, narcissist, and wallflower. Not very flattering, is it? But the truth is, whenever we’re at big, boisterous parties with lots of people, the whole scene can leave us feeling overwhelmed and exhausted.

My meditation practice has brought me to see things in a new light. Yes, we introverts may be fewer in numbers, and certainly less visible. But I now see that we naturally possess many qualities that the world could really use more of. We know how to slow down, take a deep breath, and smell the proverbial roses. We usually pause and reflect before we speak – so when we do have something to say, it tends to be meaningful. We’re conscientious and loyal. And though we may have small circles of friends, our friendships are strong and deep. In a world where many are feeling overwhelmed by busyness and disappointed by superficiality, how could these qualities not be valuable?

I’ve learned how essential it is to take time for myself … to keep my batteries charged up – and not be ashamed of having to do it!

So if you’re a fellow introvert, let’s stop seeing ourselves as outsiders or somehow “lesser” people. Let’s stop isolating ourselves because we’re “different”. The world has much to gain from us introverts bringing ourselves and our genuine strengths out there.

And how do we do this without having to fake being something we’re not? First and foremost, I’ve learned how essential it is to take time for myself, all alone, to keep my batteries charged up – and not be ashamed of having to do it! In the Myers-Briggs system of classifying personality types, the Extrovert-Introvert dimension is defined by where you draw your energy from. Extroverts prefer the outer world of people and things. They get energized by being active and engaged with others. Introverts prefer to focus on their inner world of thoughts and images. They regain energy through solitude. So it’s not about whether you like being with people or not. It’s a matter of energy, and where you get recharged. I know several people who seem quite social and outgoing, but would be considered introverts by this definition.

So it’s no wonder that we introverts can’t keep up with an extrovert lifestyle. We would burn ourselves out. To me, solitary time is as necessary to my well-being as food and water. I make sure I get some daily. My meditation time is of course part of this picture. If I’m traveling or attending a multi-day event with other people, I make sure to schedule some solitary time afterward to recharge. I’m now aware that any skimping I do is at my own risk!

It’s also very worthwhile to examine our own attitudes about our introversion. Being introverted isn’t a good or bad thing in itself. It’s the stories we’ve built around it that make it so. Do we see ourselves as inferior? Do we go to social events with a feeling of dread? Do we walk around with a self-image as someone who has difficulty talking with others? Are we constantly judging what we say? I have to admit I used to do all those things. And still catch myself doing them from time to time. But all these thoughts only serve to sabotage us even before we get out of the gate.

If we can step out of the trap of our negative stories, we’ll find infinite ways to engage with the world without having to fake anything.

If we can step out of the trap of our negative stories, we’ll find infinite ways to engage with the world without having to fake anything. When I worked in business in the past, I learned that some of my natural but less visible inclinations were really valued by my colleagues. In addition to being an introvert, I’m also very intuitive and able to relate to people easily (I’m an INFJ, for those of you who know Myers-Briggs). Sure, I wasn’t among the socially active and “popular” ones. But I was usually the one who quietly figured out what was really going on behind the scenes. I might pick up on people’s unspoken needs, notice someone who was afraid to come forward, or play diplomat to patch up simmering disagreements among team members. No, these things weren’t part of my job description. But over time they became my signature strengths – and I came to be respected for my ability to keep a team running smoothly and congenially because of them.

In my current line of work, I need to be out networking and meeting people to promote my business. Sales and marketing are probably the things introverts hate doing the most! But this is doable in introvert-style too. I never do any “cold calling” or selling to total strangers (even extroverts have a hard time with that!). If I’m meeting somebody new, I usually establish contact first by email. The next step might be a phone call. For a face-to-face meeting, I go with an agenda in mind, with specific items I want to talk about, rather than leaving it open and freeform. I’ve also learned that if I talk from the perspective of what’s meaningful to me personally, my enthusiasm catches on – and my self-consciousness doesn’t have room to creep in. In fact, I think that it’s my low-key style that brings people to believe in me and what I have to say. I’m not pushing anything on them, so they feel free to decide for themselves.

So if you were born an introvert like me, I would urge you to make the conscious choice to live as an introvert, and be proud of it. On the one hand, it means respecting some very real limits we face. We need to preserve our energy through lots of solitude, and know how not to put ourselves into situations that make us feel tongue-tied or overwhelmed! But at the same time we can bring out our natural strengths in our own quiet way. I’ve learned that when I allow what’s authentic in me to shine through, people notice and really appreciate it.

Elizabeth Appell: “And the day came when the risk to remain tight in a bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom”

July 24, 2008

Bodhipaksa

quote of the month

I sometimes think that my life has proceeded by way of a series of breakdowns and reconstructions. Such episodes haven’t exactly been frequent in my life, but they have represented important turning points. There have been three times I can recall where I’ve hit emotional bottom, learned something important about myself, and found a release that led to significant growth taking place.

In each case there had been a long period of holding on to some pattern that had been causing me pain (usually unacknowledged). I’d been a tightly-closed bud. This was followed by a catalyzing event (in each case it involved being on retreat) in which I became fully aware of the pain I’d been causing myself. The pain of remaining closed became too much. Then there was a grand finale of emotional release and a spiritual awakening into greater wholeness and well-being. The bud opened, albeit painfully. Elizabeth Appell (aka Lassie Benton)’s quotation* — “…the risk to remain tight in a bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom” — seems to perfectly encapsulate that process.

…to my surprise, I found myself overcome by emotion. I’d try to say something and the words would get stuck in my throat, turning into inarticulate sobs.

I realized how important friendship was to me a few years after taking up Buddhist practice. I was on a retreat which had the theme of spiritual friendship (coincidentally the theme of last month’s blog). As part of the retreat we studied a series of talks on the theory and practice of friendship, or kalyana mitrata, and we also spent time with each other, as we do in my tradition, getting to know one other and developing friendships. (It’s not like that in all Buddhist traditions — sometimes retreatants are not allowed to talk to each other or even to make eye contact). All of that was great — the part of the retreat I was anxious about was where we were going to talk in small groups about the spiritual friendships in our lives.

Basically I thought that it just hadn’t happened for me — that spiritual friendship just wasn’t a significant part of my life. I mentioned the word anxiety in relation to this part of the retreat, but it wasn’t the terror of public speaking or the nervousness one experiences about revealing oneself to relative strangers that I was experiencing, it was more a kind of embarrassment at not having anything to say, while everyone else (I imagined) would.

The evening arrived when it was my turn to share and I started off by apologizing that I wasn’t going to be able to say much. But there were a few people who had helped me or attempted to befriend me, to various degrees of success, and I thought that I should at least say something about them. And to my surprise, I found myself overcome by emotion. I’d try to say something and the words would get stuck in my throat, turning into inarticulate sobs. I’d collect myself, let the emotion subside to the point where I could speak once again, and the same thing would happen again. And again.

Loneliness became my defense against loneliness.

I realized a number of things. I’d remained tight in a bud. I’d come to Buddhist practice because of painful experiences in which I’d lost friends and experienced loneliness and suffering. Those experiences revealed the world to be an unreliable place, and I was looking for a spiritual tradition that emphasized looking within for happiness. I thought that with Buddhism I’d found a way to close myself off from the world. A famous Buddhist saying was “Fare lonely as a rhinoceros horn.” And inspired by this kind of thinking I’d been resistant to opening up to friends. I was guarded and wary, and suspicious of looking outside of myself for happiness and well-being.

The isolation I was imposing upon myself created a deep sense of loneliness, but I managed to avoid acknowledging those feelings. After all I didn’t want to take the risk of developing and losing friends again. Loneliness became my defense against loneliness. So remaining tight in a bud was painful. But not painful enough to make me change.

It was in the very act of communicating with others that I came into a more intimate contact with myself.

It took two weeks spent on retreat, reflecting upon friendship — and more importantly experiencing friendship in the form of the small group in which we were sharing our stories — before I could really start to experience the pain of the closed bud. I always think it’s very significant that it was in the very act of communicating with others that I came into a more intimate contact with myself, that the moment in which I started to open up to others was the moment in which I opened up to myself and acknowledged my pain.

But the bud was now opening.

Difficult though it was to experience the pain that I’d managed up to that point to avoid, there was also a sense of the light finally making its way into the heart of the bud. I experienced gratitude towards those who had been kind to me in the past and who had tried to be a friend to me. And I could see how I’d limited myself, and how I could no longer keep doing that. I’d seen the risk of remaining tightly closed, and it wasn’t a risk I was prepared to take. I’d been stuck, but now (for a time at least) I was unstuck, free, an open and opening bud.

And in that moment, as I sat in a circle, I realized that I was being fully accepted. No one was judging me. No one was thinking less of me for having been a closed bud, or for having shown my vulnerability. Instead they were quietly and compassionately being there for me. We were a circle of opening buds, all of us having decided that the risk of remaining closed to each other was greater than the risk of opening up. We were open to each other, blossoming. And the reward of that was more than worth the pain of having opened up.

* This quote was originally attributed to Anais Nin, but it appear that these words are not found among her works and that the quote was actually composed by Elizabeth Appell (aka Lassie Benton). You can read the story here.

First Online Dating Service for Buddhists Debuts (Buddhist News Network)

March 3, 2004

Wildmind Meditation News

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In a sign of the times, Buddhists now have their own online dating site. Launched in February, DharmaDate, at www.dharmadate.com, aims to bring together Buddhist laypeople from around the world for friendship, dating and marriage.

The globalization of Buddhism combined with rapid growth in online dating has created a demand for a way for practitioners to meet online. Yet, so far, there has been no service dedicated just to Buddhists.

“Buddhists want to meet other Buddhists, especially for serious relationships,” DharmaDate co-founder Erik Curren said. “But in the West in particular, where Buddhism is just taking root, finding others can be a challenge.”

Buddhism’s growth in the West has been dramatic. It has become the #4 religion in the USA with more than 2 million adherents. Buddhism has shown similar growth throughout the Americas and in Europe. Yet, many Western Buddhists may have limited access to a local Dharma center and, as a result, they may meet few other practitioners in their daily lives.

At the same time, online dating has moved from the last resort of the computer savvy and socially awkward into the mainstream. In 2003, Match.com, the largest dating site, had more than 9 million active members, almost 5% of the US population. Online dating has already established itself in Europe as well, where big sites have seen their membership increase by 10% or more every month in many countries.

Given the mobility of singles today and the failure of traditional ways to meet others, online dating has now emerged as the only alternative for many to the “bar scene.” For those who want to meet a Buddhist, online dating may be even more attractive.

“There are now thousands of online dating services serving all interests and religions, with sites for followers of Christianity, Islam, Hinduism and Judaism,” Curren said. “So why not a site for Buddhists? We’ve had people from around the world tell us that they’ve been waiting a long time for something like this.”

Curren co-founded DharmaDate with LB Shiu. After the two Buddhists met at a Tibetan Buddhist center in Virginia, they bemoaned the lack of options for Buddhists in the West to meet each other. The pair decided to collaborate on a way to use the internet to help bring Buddhists together. They came up with the concept for DharmaDate and then provided financing for the service from their personal funds.

The format of DharmaDate is similar to other online dating sites, but its approach is adapted to the needs and interests of Buddhists.

A new member can join the site for free by posting a personal ad with a photo. To create the ad, new members fill out an interactive questionnaire that allows them to describe themselves and talk about what kind of person they want to meet. In contrast to the general questionnaires users will find on other services, DharmaDate’s version was constructed to help Buddhist practitioners express their core values and interests. Questions include “How did you first get interested in Buddhism?” and “What teachers have inspired you?”

Visitors to the site can also browse ads created by others to find someone who matches their interests. During its launch period, the service is offering various incentives to encourage new members to create an ad on the site. As a service to the Buddhist community, the site also offers free e-books and articles on all traditions of Buddhism and on relationship issues. DharmaDate will also donate a percentage of profits to support Buddhist groups.

“We’re just getting started and our membership has only begun to grow,” said Curren. “We never expect to have millions of members like the big general interest sites. Instead, we hope to offer those with a serious interest in Buddhism a place to easily meet likeminded people.”

DharmaDate was designed initially to meet the needs of Buddhist singles living in the West. But its founders also hope that the service will help bridge the gap between Asian and Western Buddhists. And, people who are not single can use the site to meet new friends, perhaps in a country they would like to visit.

“Our dream is to see a strong online community of Buddhist laypeople spanning the globe who can offer each other friendship, support and encouragement to practice Dharma and live lives according to Buddhist principles,” said Curren. “We hope that bringing together Buddhists of different cultures and traditions for new personal connections will support international understanding while helping us all in our practice of wisdom and compassion.”

DharmaDate can be found at www.dharmadate.com. Basic membership including a personal ad with photos is free.

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