leeds buddhist centre

by Ed Bircumshaw

The more I practice Buddhism the broader and more mysterious my sense of what it means to be a Buddhist becomes and in a way the more simple.

I first defined someone as Buddhist by orange robes, a shaved head and trendy rosary beads. Later I thought a Buddhist must be always meditating. But soon I met a Buddhist who didn’t meditate in any formal way. Then a Buddhist was a vegetarian? But someone said the Dali Lama eats meat for dietary reasons. A Buddhist is always ethical? I have yet to meet a Buddhist who doesn’t break the precepts from time to time.

We all have ideas about what it is to be a Buddhist or to live the spiritual life and we will draw up a definition to either include or exclude our own behavior. We are constantly constructing models onto which we hang our more or less limited vision. And it often seems to me no sooner have I sorted out what it all means than my experience shifts or my world changes and something new is required.

I think any definition of a Buddhist has to involve the idea of process and the language of change. Only in this way can static concepts and terminology have any relevance to our dynamic impermanent existence.

But isn’t there a danger of our definition becoming so broad it ends up wishy-washy and ultimately meaningless? Perhaps so, but I believe as Westerners, with our strong individualistic streaks, our fear of organized religion and our resistance to the influence of others, we are more likely to respond to a broader more inclusive definition of Buddhism than a restricted exclusive one.

I think this is one of the tremendous qualities of the FWBO and Sangharakshita’s teachings: we are constantly being reminded to place fundamental principals over and above any outward displays, dogmas or cultural habits. As the aphorism goes ‘commitment is primary, lifestyle secondary.’ However this is not to be taken to mean life-style is unimportant but that ultimately the spirit is what matters not the letter.

When I first came along to the Leeds Buddhist Centre, I was mystified by the order members I met because they behaved like ‘normal’ people, yet were obviously in touch with and drawn to something very deep and profound. My idea that a Buddhist was a light and fluffy type did not match with these men in jeans with tattoos, who seemed to be exploding with energy. What I experienced around them was a sense of freedom, a sense that leading the spiritual life was not about repressing and stifling life but about becoming fully human, fully alive.

The FWBO seems to be presenting and developing Buddhism in a way that is relevant to people of today. We don’t have to chop off great chunks of ourselves and squeeze the rest of us into a box called ‘Buddhism’. We don’t have to become little Sangharakshitas or Dali Lamas.

Perhaps developing awareness is one of the defining qualities of a Buddhist. Therefore the question becomes what in our lives leads to greater awareness? If we can have faith that as awareness grows it will reveal a beauty and abundance that we naturally want to inhabit – then what is ugly will drop away.

One of the best definitions of a Buddhist I heard is by an Order member called Aloka - ‘a Buddhist is a mess in progress’. If we define ourselves more in this way perhaps we are less likely to feel like total failures all the time, or be wracked with guilt at never quite being good enough.

Of course the Buddhist life will from time to time involve tremendous struggle. We have to beware not to create a definition that will allow us to continue plodding along the same old habitual, self-cherishing road. There has to be room in any definition of Buddhism for challenge, hard work and discipline. We need to develop the urge to explore the unknown and to keep pushing out the boundaries.

Going for Refuge is said to be the defining act of the Buddhist. Perhaps it’s more straightforward than we think: if we can imaginatively connect with how great it would be to always act from our very best, then in a sense we are going for refuge to the Buddha. If we see that actions have consequences - that positive actions lead to happiness and selfish actions to suffering - then in a way we are going for refuge to the Dharma. And if we enjoy meeting with like-minded people and find ourselves nourished by their company then we are going for refuge to the Sangha. So maybe it’s simply a question of deepening those acts.

It’s taken me a long time to acknowledge and accept that my Buddhist principles are often best exemplified, not only while studying Buddhism, meditating and doing puja, but also when I play 5-a-side football: I am focused, interested, full of energy, aware of my team mates, purposeful and equanimous in the face of victory (if we win!). I now also recognize my faith and inspiration are aroused not so readily by Mahayana sutras but through contemplating the Hollywood blockbuster The Matrix. And I do experience reverence and gratitude, not so obviously to shrines and Buddha images but to my guitar – a vehicle through which I can connect with something higher by writing songs. Not that I throw out the more traditional means of developing awareness – each feeds the other. I’m not suggesting that the Matrix nor football are as direct a means of working on your mind as meditation or reading the Diamond sutra but they do act as intermediaries for me. They are activities that easily engage my attention and that are relatively wholesome. Of course this means one has to be able to discriminate as a lot of modern western culture is rubbish. Then we can begin to slowly refine our senses and thereby refine our definition of what it means to be a Buddhist.

Perhaps ones definition of what it is to be a Buddhist refines as ones awareness expands. If one tries to bring awareness to all aspects of life then all of life becomes practice. Instead of having a life that is split between the spiritual stuff and days off from the spiritual life, one can constantly make progress as a Buddhist even when, as is inevitable, one makes a mess of it.