Tag Archives: ethics

how to cultivate mindfulness of the media?

I’ve seen this several times. This is a common perception of what meditation is about: emptying the mind (cue Christian panic about the Devil entering). Certain 禅/Chán/Zen approaches do speak of the empty mind, but the guiding doctrine for this is not nothingness but the idea that form is not exclusive of emptiness and emptiness is not exclusive of form (色即是空,空即是色). Today the buzzword is mindfulness. Mindfulness requires and is nourished by concentration, but it is not reducible to concentration. It’s more like the appropriate use of concentration to ardently observe and clearly comprehend the conditionality of psychosomatic processes and the ethical implications of how we relate them in condition and effect. On its own, concentration can gather attention one pointedly as deep absorption. This can allow consciousness to be suffused with feelings of joy or bliss, or to abide in the seeming voidness of infinite space. When it is action-oriented it can allow for the performing of acts without the perception of a doer behind the deed, as was the objective in WWII Japanese Zen militarism, or more recently, the Norwegian mass murdering terrorist Anders Breivik’s claim that he found meditation helpful (this non-dualistic performativity also enacts selfless giving, merit-making, and service).

But to go with the tech-geek theme here, if it is neither about the interpretation or discursivity of representations nor the deleting of representational content, how might mindfulness of the media be cultivated in our digital environment framed and mirrored by screens gesturing touch gesturing screens gesturing touch…?

who gets mindfulness “right”? an engaged buddhist perspective

An opinion piece I wrote on the cultural politics of mindfulness has been published:

http://www.abc.net.au/religion/articles/2015/03/05/4191695.htm

the mindfulness explosion and poor innocent buddhism?

The Mind and Life Institute shared this article on Facebook, The Mindfulness Explosion. As it turns out, as a follow up to my previous piece ‘Who gets Buddhism right?’ I am starting a new opinion piece on this very topic.

I think the article presents a very good overview of the development of the mindfulness trend in the American context and of the key issues that have arisen. I like that it notes how an uneasiness about the ‘Eastern’ origins of mindfulness and meditation has troubled ‘Western’ adapters of the practice at every step. Reading the article, I was under the impression that the author would be open to the specificities of Buddhist understanding and practice. But I was very disappointed when I read these concluding paragraphs:

As to the question of whether poor, innocent, little Buddhism can withstand the withering pressures of the marketplace, there never was a time when it wasn’t deeply connected to the political and economic realities of the world. “The truth of the matter,” says Wilson, “is that Buddhism has not ever at any point from its very beginning, or at any stage of its evolution, been apart from economic matters.” The ideal of the master sitting alone in his cave or high on a mountain, isolated from the nonspiritual hoi polloi, is essentially a myth. Buddhism has long been deeply embedded in the larger political economy. Monks have often exchanged spiritual goods (chanting to produce merit for a donor or a donor’s family) for economic support by the community.
Furthermore, the benefits people hoped to achieve by supporting the sangha (but not meditating; that was the prerogative of the monks) were often less spiritual and more worldly, practical, personal, and even selfish: success in love and business, good health, relief from pain, protection from evil, safe childbirth, better karma for the next go-around. This makes what most lay Buddhists in historical times wanted from their religion no different from what most people in most eras have always wanted, including people today: protection from disaster and harm, hope for the next life (however conceived), and a sense of peace in the security of knowing that there was some greater meaning to the unpredictable, often frightening, frequently miserable ebb and flow of mortal existence

This is what I wrote on Facebook:

What the author says about the interdependency between the monastics and laity, and between Buddhism and society, is not untrue. But her historical pretensions are quite obviously ahistorical and she also leaves out uncomfortable questions. First, the gift economy between the monastics and laity, and the relationship between Buddhism and broader society in historical times is guided by certain Dharmic principles and cosmological outlooks. So it is rather glib and even disingenuous to say that Buddhism has always been situated in a larger political economy WITHOUT noting what the very vast difference between the political economic situation of the contemporary world and those of historical Buddhist civilisations. Likewise, when lay people in historical times performed merit-making, it was guided by certain understandings of ethical or karmic responsibility. It is not simply a matter of ‘what people want today’ of securing personal wellbeing or gain in the spirit of entrepreneurship that characterises our contemporary milieu. Karma is not about personal reward or retribution, but about responsibility for the unforeseeable consequence of our actions on self and others. In the context of engaged Buddhism, the teachings of karma is broadened such that personal responsibility flips over to social conscience and vice versa.

Our contemporary economic-political situation is a beast of its own, not to mention that more than ever the human estate today has the means to address worldwide inequality. But we are not. This ‘poor innocent little Buddhism’, even if not that poor or innocent in the larger scheme of history, may nevertheless have some important questions to raise about the challenges we face, if we do not reduce it to sameness, if we do not coat countless non-white people and cultures in historical times with a thick layer of white paint.

google, mindfulness, and the decision (or lack thereof) to commit to ethical reflexivity and engagement

The following is from this ‘Googe-phonics, or, What is the sound of a thousand tech workers meditating?’

Meng insisted that success in the marketplace is consistent with the pursuit of mindfulness. I objected, and raised the pointed question I had asked only rhetorically a couple of days before. “If mindfulness were to take root both inside and outside corporate culture,” I suggested, “we might move beyond market capitalism altogether and arrive in a world that is beyond Google. The key moment in the Buddha’s life is not just when he left the palace, but when he crossed the river and joined those who were underprivileged. So I’m wondering: What would it look like for you to cross the river?”

In reply, Meng explained that if Google ever faced a choice between the common good and the survival of the company, he would always advocate for the common good. It was a revealing answer: framing this choice in hypothetical terms implies that Google has yet to face it. It’s a choice that will rarely present itself in one consummate moment, however, but instead appears as a series of smaller decisions with cumulative effect.

Where was mindfulness, for example, when Google decided to subvert the privacy settings of iPhone users? Where was mindfulness when the Street View program ‘sniffed’ for open Wi-Fi connections and surreptitiously collected personal data from local residents? Where was mindfulness when the company decided to consolidate its user privacy policies against the better judgment of consumer groups and over thirty U.S. Attorneys General? Tellingly, none of these issues appear in Search Inside Yourself. They are blind spots within a corporate-friendly version of Buddhist philosophy.

I think so too. It is in line with Buddhist understandings to conceive of the commitment ‘for the the common good’ as a decision that is not taken in one consummate moment, but a decision that must be taken and re-taken repeatedly, cumulatively, over and over again. Or as my late teacher S.N. Goenka would say: ‘Start again’ (the bodhisattva vows make the same promise). By bracketing off this decision to maintain ethical reflexivity and engagement – always leaving it till ‘later’ or some hypothetical future – this is precisely the danger of the institutional mindfulness programs developed by the likes of Google and the US military, as they enjoin their staff to give themselves over to ‘the now’. To what ends? In whose interest?

‘border protection’ against non-Western, non-white understandings of mindfulness

The following is from this wonderful article, ‘Mindfulness’ “truthiness” problem: Sam Harris, science and the truth about Buddhist tradition’

Our concerns have nothing to do with complaints that Buddhism is being diluted or whether the mindfulness movement is an authentic and accurate representation of traditional Buddhist teachings, although those who venture to raise critical questions are often immediately pigeonholed as out-of-touch Buddhist purists. To be clear, we know of no one opposed to meditation being employed for reducing human suffering of any kind. But we do take issue with the troublesome rhetoric that the Buddhist tradition amounts to nothing more than an outdated set of cultural accretions. Author Sam Harris exemplifies this in his essay “Killing the Buddha,” when he characterizes the Buddhist religious tradition as an “accidental strand” of history and tells those in the mindfulness movement that they “no longer need to be in the religion business.” Dan Harris, co-anchor of ABC’s “Nightline” and “Good Morning America” and the author of the best-selling book “10% Happier,” decries “meditation’s massive PR problem,” code for shedding any associations with anything that smacks of Buddhism. This kind of deprecatory, at times hostile characterization of the Buddhist tradition betrays a terrible lack of understanding of what it means to engage meaningfully with a religious tradition, and a naïve belief in the unassailable authority of science as the sole arbiter of truth, meaning and value.

This policing of Buddhism’s perceived ‘religiously’ or ‘culturally’ or ‘tradition’ bound features by dominant scientific discourse is a colonizing gesture. In other words, this particular mode of science (not all science) is playing the role of Homeland Security. The following comes to mind. It is referring to the Western philosophical tradition’s treatment of non-Western wisdom traditions but it is applicable here too:
‘In effect, indigenous wisdom traditions of the non-western world are separated from their western counterparts at customs and forced to travel down the red channel. This is because, unlike western philosophies, they are believed to have “something to declare” – namely, their “religious,” dogmatic or “tradition-bound” features which mark them out as culturally particular rather than universal. Before being allowed to enter the public space of western intellectual discourse, such systems of thought must either give up much of their foreign goods (that is, render themselves amenable to assimilation according to western intellectual paradigms), or enter as an object of rather than as a subject engaged in debate.’ ~ King, Richard 2009, ‘Philosophy of Religion as Border Control: Globalization and the Decolonization of the “Love of Wisdom” (philosophia)’, in P Bilimoria and A Irvine (eds.), Postcolonial Philosophy of Religion, Springer, London, p. 45.

is faith optional?

I saw this review of Hans Joas’ Faith as an Option in the Immanent Frame this morning. Leaving aside the content and specificity of the book, its titled prompted these Derridean inspired thoughts, which I have articulated differently in the context of a Buddhist art of living.

I’m sure you’ve encountered the sentiment that faith is optional, and you may even strongly advocate such a view as an anti-religion, and more specifically, an anti-Christian argument. And you would be right, in that this implied conflation of ‘faith’ with ‘belief-as-conscious-assent-to-propositions’ emerged out of a specific Euro-Christian, Protestant ‘white’ genealogy. But the overwhelming majority of the world is not, and has never been, ‘white’, nor should it be expected to conform with such a Euro-Christian understanding. Trust me, I’m ‘Chinese’; I’m part of this overwhelming majority.

‘Trust me.’ We’ve all used this turn of phrase, made such a plea, haven’t we? But regardless of whether we say it or not, why should anyone trust what we say? They don’t have to, but at any given moment they *could*, because an implicit unconditional promise that they can accept our words in good faith is there even before we open our mouths. Or rather, this silent promise of trustworthiness accompanies every word we utter; for even if we are telling lies, they are lies only because of this promissory precondition that solicits good faith in the first place, the same precondition by which we may *decide* (not once and for all but over and over again) to be un/faithful. And ‘decision’ is not the same as ‘choice’, for it takes commitment, effort, and trust (←there it is again, the call of/for faith) to retake a decision where there isn’t the option to choose as we please. Is faith, then, optional?

So I’m going to tell you that I don’t wash my hands after taking a shit. Am I telling the truth? Am I being truthful? How can you know – in advance, at any rate? How do I know if anyone would read this, much less give it due consideration or respond? But I do it anyway, as if I were saying a prayer. Because if I don’t – if I don’t give myself over in good faith and trust that you will reciprocate in kind; and by this same movement be exposed to potential betrayal – how do I enter into relationality with an other, with you, whoever you are, whatever your name (God, if you like) may be?

touching feeling

I saw this on my Facebook wall this morning: http://thenewinquiry.com/blogs/wiathi/mybodymyhome-ii/

The moment when a feeling enters the body is political. This touch is political. ~ Adrienne Rich

In Buddhist teachings, when two sets of conditions – i.e. the six sense doors (the usual five plus the mind/intellect) AND their objects/sense stimuli (the usual five plus mental formations/thought) – are mutualised as a relational movement of becoming, there arises phassa (Sanskrit: sparśa), which has been translated as ‘contact’ or ‘touch’. These mutualising conditions allow for the arising of vedanā, which is typically translated as ‘feeling’, though different approaches to practice differently emphasise its manifestation as affective tones or bodily sensations that may be variously experienced as pleasant/unpleasant/neutral. Paying attention to the arising of touch-feeling serves an ethical function when we investigate the ways in which pleasant/unpleasant/neutral affective tones or bodily sensations prompt habitual actions of body, speech, and thought, actions that may generate either wholesome or unwholesome effects (i.e. whether they are conducive for the easing of suffering for the self-in-relation-to others or not).

The broad transnational movement of Engaged Buddhism is trying to harness these soteriological principles for political activism and to address social injustice. The curious thing is that there is no concept of in/justice in Buddhism. How, then, to relate the understanding of ethical un/wholesomeness to political in/justice (noting that the latter has been partially, but very significantly, inherited from and influenced by the Abrahamic tradition/s)?

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For further exploration:

What is posited as phassa in Buddhism, however, cannot be understood simply in terms of what the English words ‘contact’ and ‘touch’ conventionally connote, as phassa is regarded in both the Theravada and Mahayana Abhidharma systems as one of several mental factors. I’m curious to explore this further