The glass is fully empty

Hoo!

I can't seem to upload pictures today, so you'll have to be satisfied with a picless philosophy rant.

I saw some great theatre last night at TIPA, which I'd somehow managed to avoid visiting until then despite the fact that I had to walk past it every day on the way to Tushita, and that I live near it on TIPA Road. I'm really glad I finally went though - lots of wonderful singing and dancing, and some skits which looked funny, although I couldn't really tell, since they were in Tibetan. One of my favourite performances was the singing of the Tibetan national anthem, which is actually a beautiful song, unlike most anthems.

The main thing I've been doing since my course ended though has been attending the Dalai Lama's annual post-Losar Monlam teachings every day in the courtyard of the Tsuglagkhang temple. They're in Tibetan, but there's a simultaneous English translation via FM broadcast. You can also watch and/or listen to any of these teachings online by clicking here. The most surprising thing about them, especially for Western audiences, is how heavily philosophical they are. You see a sea of Tibetan peasants silently praying or counting strings of mala beads, listening raptly to their highest religious leader talk about how "all composite things are produced from causes," and that "everything comes into being in dependence on other things," (thus negating the idea of inherent existence for the self or for objects). Wow.

The main texts that he is using are the Compendium of Precepts, and A Guide to the Bodhisattva's Way of Life, both by Shantideva, an 8th-century Buddhist saint and scholar. I've already read the Guide (as translated by Stephen Batchelor), because it was the textbook for my Tushita course, and I follow along in it at the teachings. It's a beautiful poem/philosophical treatise/practical guide to life. Well, it's beautiful and practical for Buddhists or for those sympathetic to the Buddhist mindset - a strong current of disgust with the body and all things worldly runs through it, which probably turns off a lot of people. Human bodies are described variously as "...walking corpses/Which are moved around by a few (impulses)," "...cages of bones tied together with muscles/Plastered over with the mud of flesh," and, very simply, as "bags of filth." This disgust is rooted in the belief that the human realm, along with the other realms of Samsara (or cyclic existence), are basically places of illusion and suffering which we must overcome to realize Nirvana, "the state beyond sorrow." To become attached to objects such as bodies is to become attached to Samsara, and to create further suffering. Ironically though, the ideal in Mahayana Buddhism (of which Tibetan Buddhism is a branch) is not to realize Nirvana, but to become a Bodhisattva, a being who forsakes full Buddhahood and remains in cyclic existence in order to help others attain Nirvana. One of the final passages of the Guide reads: "For as long as space endures/And for as long as living beings remain/Until then may I, too, abide/To dispel the misery of the world."

I find it very difficult to integrate this ideal of the Bodhisattva with another central aspect of Buddhism, the belief in "emptiness." As opposed to Hinduism, which posits a permanent, all-pervasive Self as the fundamental reality, Buddhism denies the inherent (permanent, independent, and partless) existence of the self and of everything. Given this idea, I'm confused as to the point of compassion and the Bodhisattva's way of life in general - why should we develop compassion for beings who do not truly exist, and thus do not truly suffer? The Guide answers as follows:

Although sentient beings do not truly exist, deceptively one should develop compassion for those imputed (as sentient beings) by the confused mind which has promised to practice the (Bodhisattva) way of life in order to lead them to the goal of liberation... Although ultimately it is true (that there are no truly existent sentient beings, compassion or results), deceptively, from the point of view of a mind confused about phenomena, we accept the existence of merely apparent results arising from merely apparent compassion developed towards merely apparent sentient beings... In order to completely pacify suffering one need not and cannot reject compassion. Therefore one should not reject this merely apparent confusion about the results. However, the confusion about the self should be rejected because it increases such things as self-importance, which are causes for suffering.

Yeah... I still don't get it. If suffering doesn't truly exist, then why should we attempt to eliminate it? In fact, I don't see the point in attaining even our own "liberation," since "...in their being (empty of true existence), there is no difference between the state beyond sorrow - Nirvana - and the state not beyond sorrow - cyclic existence." And even if there were a difference, there would seemingly still be no point in even securing liberation for oneself, since one does not have a self. Hmm...

By the way: as per the question that I was trying to use Hinduism to answer, Buddhism completely avoids the whole can of worms. Cyclic existence has been occurring since "beginningless time;" whether or not there was a Creator, and if so, whatever his reasons for creating were, is immaterial, as the answer will not help us to achieve enlightenment.

So there you have it.

Impermanence

Hey people! Lots has happened since my last post. First off, I started an 8-day course in Tibetan Buddhist philosophy and meditation today, at the Tushita Meditation Centre. It runs from 8:45am until 6pm everyday. It seems great so far, but tomorrow the real test begins, because there will be no speaking (by students) for the rest of the course, except during discussion sessions. I'm sure you're all super excited about the plethora of philosophy rants which are sure to come! I feel a little bad though, because I had to abandon my volunteer work to attend. Just like how the Buddha abandoned his family in search of enlightenment. Just like that! Heh, actually I saw a great movie about that recently, Samsara, which I heartily recommend to anyone interested in (a) Buddhism, (b) love stories, or (c), cool stuff. Anyway, the photo above is me and some of my class together for the last time :(

In other news, I moved out of my hotel and into an apartment. It's just a room in an apartment, actually - an Austrian guy (who likes chess!) lives there with his Tibetan girlfriend. It's way cheaper than my hotel, has a better view, a balcony, more space, a kitchen, a very cute kitten, a working shower rather than a bucket, and as an added benefit I'm being sucked into their vast social network. I've already been to a Tibetan-American wedding, a disco party turned bad, and a number of crazy house parties.

In short, stuff is fun, and I'll be sad to have to leave next month when my visa expires... Everything is impermanent I suppose - especially when you're travelling.

To Serve, Protect, and Mug

Tashi Delek everyone, and Happy Losar!

It's the second day of Tibetan New Year, 2133 on the Tibetan calendar, sign of the male Fire Dog. Losar consists of setting off vast quantities of fireworks and getting very, very drunk. (Also of prayer, traditional dance, and speeches by monks, but mainly, for me at least, fireworks and getting drunk.) I was celebrating Losar quite heavily with some people in the street yesterday night, which is when I took this drunken photo of some fellow revellers - from left are a Nepalese guy who lives here now, a British guy of Indian descent, and an American guy. The British guy told a harrowing tale of how he was accosted by the police, who then requested to see his passport, which he didn't have on him, at which point demanding a hundred rupee "fine," and threatening him with sticks until he paid. An American girl came by and told of the exact same thing happening to her, except that she had managed to get away without paying. I was rather distressed by these tales, but wasn't too worried about myself, since I always carry my passport around with me.

Well, at about 1am I left my friends and went for a walk for some fresh air in preparation for going home to bed, and guess what happened? Yep, along came a trio India's finest, drunker than me, demanding to see my passport. I produced it, which seemed to impress them, and they proceeded by asking, rather honestly i thought, for a hundred rupees "whiskey money." The American girl had given me confidence that I could get out of this without payment or broken bones, so I pretended not to speak English very well, saying "no thank-you, no whiskey." They didn't seem to buy it though, because one of them raised their stick and screamed something along the lines of "you have to give it to us because we have this!" They were so drunk by this time that they probably wouldn't have even been able to hit me, and I was too drunk to be scared, so I laughed. This made them laugh too, and eventually I got out of it by giving them a couple of beedies, costing me less than a cent, and nodding understandingly as they ranted drunkenly at me in Hindi. Just goes to show... hmm, what does it go to show? Alcohol can be your friend as well as your enemy? A smile can get you out of anything? Avoid Indian cops? Something like that, anyway.