I Almost Became a Buddhist

Towering above busy and bustling Kathmandu, Kopan Monastery stands in dignified silence and serenity. This fortress of solitude was our home for almost three weeks of study and contemplation on Buddhism. Almost everybody was in a thoughtful, philosophical mood – which was refreshing. Delving deep into the Big Questions was a welcome respite from the mundane and often superficial concerns of daily life.

Something about the monastery made a strong, direct connection with me. Perhaps it was the natural beauty of the hillside; the elegant Tibetan architecture and vibrant artwork; or simply the warm, glowing energy from the monks, teachers, and students. Perhaps all of it. Whatever it was, Kopan felt like home.

Beyond that, it felt like coming home. It was as though I’d been here before.

Imagine coming home to this creature.

There’s an old running joke between Julia and me, that I was a Buddhist monk in a previous life. What if that were true? That’d explain a lot.

Before we get to how I almost became a Buddhist, I’ll give some background about Buddha and Buddhism. It’s impossible to summarize more than two millennia of history and teachings into a few paragraphs, but here goes.

Buddhism in a Nutshell

The story of Buddhism began over 2,600 years ago with the birth of Siddhartha Gautama, prince of a small kingdom in Lumbini, Nepal. He grew up with the ancient Indian equivalent of helicopter parenting, hermetically sealed in a perfect bubble of comfort and privilege, shielded from the realities of human life.

Until one day, in preparation for his royal duties, Siddhartha left the palace walls to meet his subjects – and encountered human suffering for the very first time. He saw an old man, then a sick man, and then a dead man. He also saw a wandering hermit in deep meditation, fully content despite having practically nothing.

Mindblown and depressed by what he witnessed, Siddhartha realized that aging, sickness, and death would come to him and all the people he loved. And even as king, he would be powerless to prevent all that. He figured that wandering hermits might have some answers, since they always seem perfectly chill.

So, at 29, he left everything behind – family, riches, and power – and set out to find the answer to human suffering. Siddhartha traveled the length and breadth of Nepal and northern India, studying mediation practices and training with the greatest wise men of his day. He observed extreme asceticism – he had no possessions, ate and drank almost nothing, and spent all his time meditating. Gradually, he saw what the mind was capable of, but was never completely satisfied. Damn perfectionist he was.

Eventually, a milkmaid saw him, shocked that this pile of skin and bones was still breathing. She fed him a bowl of milk and rice pudding. Moved by her compassion, Siddhartha had an epiphany. His answer probably lay neither in the decadent pleasures of self-indulgence, nor in the rigid disciplines of extreme self-denial, but somewhere in the middle. And so he sat under a tree, vowing to stay put and meditate until he found the answer.

Six years since turning his back on the fancy princely life, Siddhartha finally achieved perfect concentration and mastery over his mind. He became one “fully awakened” to ultimate truth, the Buddha.

Same actor and basically the same plot. Images from here and here.

At the most basic level, Siddhartha’s teachings can be summarized as follows:

1. The pleasure, pain, and everything else we can conceive and experience are fleeting; even the self is impermanent.
2. Humans experience suffering because we constantly cling to the things we crave, push away the things we hate, and are completely ignorant of the impermanent nature of all things.
3. Humans can put an end suffering if we learn to overcome the delusions of craving, hatred, and ignorance.
4. The path to end suffering requires mastery of our mind, speech, and actions so that we replace craving with unselfishness, hatred with lovingkindness, and ignorance with wisdom.

Note: I’m totally paraphrasing here, so feel free to consult other sources for more details. I’d suggest starting with this.

Siddhartha continued traveling throughout northern India for nearly five decades, sharing his insights with everyone he encountered: kings and commoners, priests and murderers. All that teaching would wear anyone out, even an enlightened being. Siddhartha died at 80, poor thing didn’t even get to retire.

His closest disciples carried on the teaching by word of mouth and in writing, training their own disciples, and keeping the cycle going. Over 2,600 years, Siddhartha’s insights – what came to be known as Buddhism – spread throughout Asia. In many different forms, the teachings took root in India, Tibet, China, Japan, Sri Lanka, Thailand, Cambodia, Myanmar, Vietnam, and as far away as Russia and Afghanistan. In the last century, Buddhism also gained a growing following in Europe, North America, South America, and Australia.

Which was how I came to know Buddhism, reading books from Julia and her dad Bill, as well as attending the occasional teaching. I also grew up watching kung fu movies of Shaolin monks and playing video games featuring Zen sohei warrior monks. But I guess that last bit doesn’t count.

Not an introduction to Buddhism, but look – Zen sohei warrior monks! Image from here.

Three weeks of retreat and study at Kopan that convinced me I wanted more Buddhism in my life.

This will come as a big surprise to many people in my life, since I was raised a Catholic. An even bigger surprise to those who know me to be an agnostic existentialist, one who has turned away from organized religion. But those who know me best won’t be surprised at all, since I’ve always been a seeker, perpetually questioning and never fully satisfied with the answers I come across.

Eventually, my questioning got the better of me and I decided not to convert to Buddhism. In this post, I’ll talk about my lingering doubts about Buddhism, and then I’ll explain why I haven’t ruled out becoming a Buddhist. Read on for an insider look into my mind-stream.

*Cue hippie meditation music and incense.*

Why I doubt Buddhism

I feel doubt and discomfort about some elements of Buddhism. The cultural baggage that comes with Buddhist tradition makes me uneasy. Also, much of Buddhist practice appears to be superstitious, based on a supernatural understanding of the world and at odds with science. Finally, I struggle with the Buddhist belief in karma because it can so easily be distorted.

The more I study Buddhism and its wildly different strands, the more it becomes clear to me that culture has a deep and lasting influence on its evolution. Culture probably has a deeper influence in Buddhism compared to any other world religion.

If you put Zen and Tibetan monks side by side and observe them practice their rituals, you’d be forgiven for concluding that they’re two entirely separate religions. Look at the photos below. On the left is a Zen Buddhist temple, on the right is a Tibetan Buddhist temple. Spot the similarities!

I worry that it’s so easy to get caught up in the cultural and ritual forms, that the meaning and the message get drowned out and lost in the noise. Just another trend, but in spiritual guise. In theory, there’s an antidote to be found in deeper reflection. In practical terms, though, can all ordinary Buddhists afford to go on retreats and attend courses? Aside from monks and nuns, who has the time to do all that? Meanwhile, should we just do the rituals and be done with it? Then again, can’t we just let go of all these cultural trappings and focus on the core teaching?

Speaking of rituals, Buddhism is bewilderingly diverse in its practices, from spinning prayer wheels, to accumulating merit, to touching holy objects. These strike me as superstitious. There’s no logical or scientific connection between the ritual and the desired results – only a supernatural one.

Most Buddhists believe that chanting mantras will cure sickness. The theory goes,  the chanting of mantras connects with the subtle level of the body and produces sacred and healing vibrations. Similarly, most Buddhists visit holy places to touch sacred objects and receive miraculous healing. Granted, that all these rituals convey a much deeper truth, how sure are we that people see beyond the rituals and actually get it?

Growing up in a majority Catholic culture in the Philippines, I’ve grappled with this for a long time. In my experience, far too many people simply end with the literal level of stories, prayers, teachings, and rituals, mostly unaware that these point to subtler messages.

Even worse, I think far too many people believe that, if you could only get the prayers and rituals right, somehow you can influence the physical laws of the universe. Better yet, you can bend them to your will – if your ritual’s powerful enough. It was precisely this superstitious and supernatural worldview that I rejected when I left the church, among other things. I really have no intention of going back to that. Or the Middle Ages, for that matter.

Religion. More fun in the Philippines. Image from here.

The one thing I doubt the most in Buddhism is karma, which most would say is a deal-breaker. This is a highly complex and hotly debated topic in Buddhism, so I can’t possibly discuss all the details and nuances here. Briefly, though, karma means that everything you experience – good, bad, or neutral – is a result of previous actions in past lives.

Cruel as it sounds, it’s technically correct to say that if I get murdered, it’s because it’s my karma to get murdered. It’s a ripening or consequence of previous actions in my past lives. The family I leave behind can take comfort in that, I suppose.

Then again, since in Buddhism there’s no such thing as personal or individual rebirth, then why should I be held responsible and made to suffer the consequences of actions from a past life – when technically that was really not me and those actions were not mine? If you’re confused, that makes two of us.

Worse than the apparent confusion, though, karma has long been used to excuse or justify imperialism, racism, the caste system, misogyny, poverty, war, sickness, and so on. It doesn’t take a genius to see how karma can so easily be distorted and misused in daily life.

Those who know me understand why this grinds my gears.

No wonder that Buddhists are often accused of being fatalistic. Karma appears to be disempowering, as though there’s nothing we can do to shape our destinies. But it doesn’t have to be that way and many people have proposed more positive interpretations. Still, the fatalistic trap is easy to fall into. People should avoid and overcome this tendency if we want to create social justice and peace in this world.

And that is precisely what many Buddhists are actively working and struggling to achieve. Even though Buddhists are supposed to accept karma, this acceptance doesn’t mean surrender or giving up. In other words, accept karma and the reality that the world can be terrible, but at the same time fight to make it a better, kinder place. Also, never, ever give up. Case in point: the monk who calls himself a Marxist.

Looks like I’ve found my people.

Seize the means of production – compassionately. Image from here.

Why Buddhism feels right

I’m drawn to Buddhism for many different reasons, but here I’ll focus on its holistic approach to life that brings together philosophy, psychology, and ethics. Buddhist philosophy encourages and stimulates people to think about the really important things and gain wisdom. Buddhist psychology gives us tools and techniques to tame and master the mind. Buddhist ethics enables us to see how interconnected we are to each other and to all living things, so we can live with compassion.

Best of all, Buddha can’t save you. That’s your job.

And the job begins with asking questions. At its very foundations, Buddhism is a philosophical inquiry. Siddhartha achieved enlightenment by asking very fundamental and very difficult questions: What is suffering? Why do we suffer? Is there a way to end suffering? How can we end suffering? What is reality? How do you know what is real?

These questions are as old as time, yet they remain as relevant to us in bustling cities today as they were to him meditating in the jungle 2,600 years ago.

Despite the safety, prosperity, convenience, and leisure of wealthy societies, why do we still feel dissatisfied and unhappy? Why do we keep striving for wealth, power, and prestige, even though we know that none of these will last? How do we find or create meaning in a world that feels superficial, in an existence that feels empty? What’s the sound of one hand clapping?

Buddhism offers answers to these questions, and for the most part, they make a lot of sense. But this isn’t what makes Buddhism appealing to me. I’m drawn to Buddhism because it encourages and inspires me to come up with my own answers. The Buddha didn’t teach blind faith and obedience. He taught his followers to seek the truth for themselves, just as he did. He didn’t teach his followers to believe, but to think.

Buddhist practice requires a great deal of thinking, so it’s vital to look into and look after that one tool at your disposal – your mind. This is where Buddhist psychology comes in.

For more than two millennia, Buddhist teachers from Siddhartha onwards developed and debated many complex ideas. To name just a few: how the mind creates perceptions; distorts perceptions; generates feelings; exaggerates feelings; identifies sensations; and builds attachments to those sensations. Aside from being intellectually interesting, Buddhist psychology is intended to be practical. All these ideas were designed to equip the practitioner to work skillfully with the mind, especially in challenging situations.

Buddhism teaches practices to calm one’s mind, maintain balance, and expand inner space for a fresh perspective. This is partly why mindfulness and meditation techniques inspired by or borrowed from Buddhism are becoming more widely accepted. Even the most skeptical researchers participate in dialogue to bridge Buddhism and science. Mindfulness research is one of the most exciting fields in neuroscience today.

With clear insight inspired by philosophy and a stable mind cultivated through meditation, the skillful Buddhist practitioner knows that everyone is connected to everyone else, and each has the same basic hopes and problems. Starting from within, from a stable and healthy mental state, one’s compassionate actions and speech move outward to every facet of life, like a pebble creates a ripple on the surface of a still pond.

Equipped to deal with even the most confusing and disturbing emotions, one can focus on others rather than oneself. One acts with complete compassion, generosity, and authenticity towards everyone.

“I woke up like this.”

The authentic Buddhist approach to life is holistic – not because one’s thoughts, feelings, and actions comply with rigid rules of conduct – but because they are in harmony with one’s deepest values.

All this is easier said than done, of course. The good thing is that, by his example, Siddhartha proved that it can be done. And if he could do it, so can anyone else, as long as they work for it. Because in Buddhism, there’s no God, Savior, or Messiah. You alone are responsible for your liberation.

That may sound frightening at first, but on deeper reflection, you’ll realize that nothing can be more empowering than to have your destiny in your own hands. For Buddhists, being born a human being is both a tremendous responsibility and a precious gift.

What you do with this gift is totally up to you.

Irrigators channel waters; fletchers straighten arrows; carpenters bend wood; the wise master themselves.

— The Buddha

Now what?

I was this close to taking refuge and officially becoming a Buddhist. Ultimately, I decided not to do it, taking advice from Julia and a Tibetan lama who lives at Kopan. They suggested I slow down, study more, and give it a year or so before making a final decision. In hindsight, that makes a lot of sense, since I’ve got much think about and resolve within myself.

Maybe I’ll become a card-carrying, mantra-chanting, koan-riddling Buddhist one day – in this life or in the next. Maybe not.

Maybe it doesn’t matter either way. Siddhartha would probably agree.