This
is the fifth chapter of my booklet Kshanti, originally given as part
of a series of talks at the London Buddhist Centre in 1997
Receptivity
requires energy and effort. It is perhaps understandable that
receptivity should be thought of as passive. You don't have to make
an effort to receive. Or so we think, at least. But what about
receiving criticism or praise, don't we have to make an effort to
listen to what is being said and remain open to it?
Receptivity
as an aspect of Kshanti is receptivity to the Buddha’s teaching.
Creative listening or creative reading is listening or reading in a
way that is not passive. It means actively engaging with whatever is
being heard or read, asking oneself how does it apply to me, how is
it related to the actual practice of the spiritual life.
Receptivity
presupposes something worth receiving and somebody capable of
expounding it. To be receptive therefore we need to have faith in the
Buddha’s teaching (the Dharma), faith that it does emanate from a
higher state of consciousness, and also faith in spiritual hierarchy,
faith that there are those who are more spiritually developed than we
are, who have understood and experienced the Dharma more deeply.
Sraddha, which is faith in the Buddhist sense, is based on intuition,
reason, and experience. Our initial intuition is later confirmed by
our reason and experience and this gives rise to even greater faith.
Our faith in the Dharma is initially an intuition. There is a
response in us, something resonates with our experience, it feels
true. Later, after some practice we know that it works from our own
experience. And reasoning from this we can deduce that even more is
possible. The Dharma is not just words or concepts however. It is a
living thing. It manifests in the lives of individuals. Our faith is
also based on seeing that there are some individuals, who as a result
of practising the Dharma are more aware and more friendly what we
are. Or it may be that we feel there is something about people who
practise the Dharma which we like, even though we don't quite know
what it is. And we want to discover more. We want to experience for
ourselves the benefits of the Dharma. So we listen, we learn, we
practise. We try to be receptive to what we read and to what we hear
from those we respect and look up to. We acknowledge that we have
something to learn and that there are people who can teach us both by
their words and by their behaviour. We acknowledge the existence of a
spiritual hierarchy, a hierarchy of spiritual development.
Spiritual
hierarchy is not a matter of titles or status. That is ecclesiastical
hierarchy. Until Insight is attained it is possible for people to
fall back to a lower level. It is quite difficult to see spiritual
hierarchy. Spiritual hierarchy manifests in how someone behaves and
how they are. It is not about what people say necessarily, although
what people say and how they say it may give some indication of their
spiritual development. If someone is manipulative, exploitative,
harsh, unkind, greedy, deceiving or boastful about their attainments
then we can be sure that they are not particularly spiritually
developed. On the other hand if someone is mindful, kind, generous,
truthful and objective then they are more likely to be spiritually
experienced. However it is not easy to judge whether someone is
compassionate, aware and earnestly striving unless we know them very
well. And even then, unless we ourselves are on the same level of
spiritual development or a higher level we may not be able to really
know how developed someone is. This is why it is sometimes said in
traditional Buddhism, that the disciple doesn't choose the guru, but
rather the guru chooses the disciple, by which is meant that the
disciple is in no position to recognise the guru. We don't need to be
in contact with someone who is vastly more spiritually developed in
order to make progress. We just need someone who is a little bit more
experienced than us, who can give us a helping hand. But we do need
to have someone to look up to, someone we consider more spiritually
developed, otherwise the Dharma is dead. If we have faith in the
Dharma and faith in spiritual hierarchy, we can practise receptivity.
Of
course we can be receptive in a more ordinary sense to our friends
who are on the same level as us, spiritually speaking. Sometimes an
ordinary friend can point things out to us or give us a different
perspective, especially when we are in a mood. We can learn from all
sorts of people and situations if we are receptive enough, if our
responses are creative enough. There are lessons about impermanence
and suffering confronting us all the time, if we care to look. What
can you learn by observing your parents? What can you learn by
observing your children? What can you learn from your responses to
various stimuli as you walk down the street? What can you learn about
yourself from your attitudes to food, money, sex, clothing and so on?
If you are listening creatively, the world is all the time teaching
its lessons.
We
can also be receptive to ourselves in the sense of acknowledging and
reflecting on our experience and achievements. This is a good way to
build confidence and self-metta. At the time of the Buddha’s
Enlightenment it is said that he was attacked by Mara and tempted by
Mara (the personification of evil) and when this failed to disrupt or
disturb him, Mara tried a different tack. He said, ‘What right have
you to sit here on the spot where the Buddhas of the past have sat,
who do you think you are?’ The Buddha’s response was to touch the
earth and when he touched the earth, the Earth Goddess arose and she
testified that the Buddha had practised spiritual virtues for many
lifetimes and was therefore ready to sit on the vajrasana, the throne
of Enlightenment. We could understand this attack by Mara to mean
that at the time of Enlightenment there arose in the Buddha’s mind
thoughts of hatred, craving and doubt and he dealt with them by
suffusing them with awareness. He overcame the doubt by referring
back to his experience and achievements. We can do this too. We can
look back on our experience and achievements and gain confidence from
them. In this way we can be receptive to ourselves and make creative
use of our lives.
There
are many different elements to receptivity. There is entreaty and
supplication, as in the Sevenfold Puja. (1) There is listening,
reflecting and meditating, shruta-mayi prajna, chinta-mayi prajna and
bhavana-mayi prajna; the three kinds of wisdom. There is
self-examination and self- questioning. There is scepticism as
opposed to cynicism. And there is humiliation through contact with
Reality.
The
sevenfold Puja is a Buddhist ritual which is performed regularly to
cultivate spiritual emotions. The seven stages are recognition of the
Ideal, devotion, dedication, confession, rejoicing, receptivity and
giving up personal gain. The sixth stage, the stage of receptivity,
is called Entreaty and Supplication. In this section of the puja,
what we are doing in effect is asking for a teaching. We are
declaring our receptivity to the Dharma. Of course it is not enough
to say we are receptive, we have to actually be receptive. Sometimes
we ask questions as a way of avoiding the truth rather than
penetrating deeper into it. Being receptive to the Dharma is not
simply a matter of acquiring more knowledge, it is more a case of
being willing to change as a result of the new insights we gain from
hearing the Dharma. It is not easy to have an open mind and an open
heart. Our fear and insecurity urges us to put up defences and be
closed to whatever disturbs the status quo. Our intellectual
arrogance leads us to think we have understood the Dharma before we
have allowed the meaning to touch us. It is easy to understand the
words but miss the point. So when we are asking to hear the Dharma,
whether at the Entreaty and Supplication stage of the puja of in a
study group, we need to be genuinely open to the message of the
Dharma,
which means recognising the fears, insecurity and arrogance that keep
us closed and suspending our prejudices for a while. There is a story
from the Zen tradition about a professor who visits a Zen master to
ask some question. After they've spoken a little the Zen master
offers him some tea, which the professor gladly accepts. The Zen
master begins to pour the tea and he keeps pouring and the tea rises
to the rim of the cup and over the rim and he keeps pouring. The
professor is astonished at this and he watches the tea come up over
the rim of the saucer and start to flow onto the table. Eventually,
unable to hold himself back, he says rather loudly, ‘My cup is
full, you can’t get any more in.’ And the Zen master looked
straight at him, the way Zen masters always do in these stories and
said, ‘Yes, exactly, your cup is full, come back when you are ready
to receive the answers to your questions.’ Obviously the point of
the story is that although the professor was asking for instruction,
he was not actually receptive enough to really take it in.
The
three levels of wisdom, shruta-mayi prajna or listening, chinta-mayi
prajna or reflecting and bhavana-mayi prajna or meditating, give us
an idea of how to be really receptive. Listening, sruta-maya prajna,
which includes reading, is concerned with gaining knowledge of the
Dharma in a fairly ordinary sense. This means learning about the Four
Noble Truths, The Noble Eightfold Path, the law of conditionality,
the five precepts and so on. We need to have a knowledge of these
basic teachings, so that when we manage to concentrate our minds and
want to use that concentration to penetrate deeper into the Truth, we
will have something to work with. Otherwise as Sangharakshita puts
it, our concentration will be of no more use to us than a sharpened
pencil to a man who cannot read or write. (2)
Chinta-mayi
prajna or reflecting corresponds more to what I have called creative
listening. At this point we are turning over in our minds what we
have heard or read and making it our own, so to speak. We are going
deeper into the meaning of what we have received and allowing it to
affect our lives. This stage of reflection is, you could say, the
stage of mundane receptivity and it paves the way for bhavana-mayi
prajna or meditation, which in this context if the stage of
Transcendental Insight, At this point, bhavana-maya prajna, one is
not reflecting on the Truth, but one has to some extent become the
Truth. This is the stage of the perfection of receptivity, when the
Dharma has permeated ones whole being and one is utterly changed by
it.
Of
course receptivity is not only a matter of listening to others and
taking in what is said. We also need to listen to and question
ourselves. This involves self-examination in the sense of trying to
be honest with oneself about what one does or does not understand and
being honest with oneself about just how receptive or not one is. It
is better to be clear that we honestly don't like a particular
teaching and don’t want to practise it than to just avoid it or
pretend that we accept it. For instance, for a number of years I
didn't like the teaching about the four dhyanas, the four levels of
meditative concentration. I used to find it depressing and just
avoided it. It took me some time to realise that it was meant as a
helpful guide to recognising and understanding meditative states
rather than as a judgment on my poor attempts at concentration.
Recognising that I simply didn't like the teaching was a starting
point from which I could understand what was really going on. I just
felt bad about my ability as a meditator, and my lack of confidence
in my abilities was nothing to do with the teaching of the four
dhyanas. Self-examination can help us to become more self-aware.
By
questioning oneself I mean asking oneself how a particular teaching
or particular aspect of the Dharma applies to ones life. How is it
going to help me to progress spiritually? What should I do as a
result of this? Does this teaching have any practical application in
my life? How does it connect with other things I have heard or read?
For instance, do the contents of this book have any application to my
life? Do I want to change anything in my life as a result of reading
this?
This
questioning attitude can also be related to scepticism. It is
reasonable to be sceptical with regard to what you read or hear. To
be sceptical is to question or to accept things provisionally. This
is better than being gullible. However we need to be careful that our
scepticism doesn't become cynicism. Cynicism is a negative mental
state that tends to undermine everything of value and seeks to drag
everything down to a low level. Cynicism is a form of ill-will or
hatred.
Scepticism
on the other hand is a reasonable questioning, a suspension of
judgment and it can be very positively motivated. At its best,
scepticism is an attitude of seeking the truth and not settling for
less. In this way scepticism is related to receptivity. Blind faith
is not necessary in Buddhism. All teachings are meant to be put to
the test and accepted or rejected according to whether they conduce
to spiritual development or hinder it. We must be careful though that
we do test the teachings rigorously, whether in our thinking or
practice and not reject what we merely dislike. Spiritual
intelligence is something quite different from intellectual ability
in the ordinary sense. Spiritual intelligence is an intuitive
knowing of the truths of impermanence and conditionality that goes
far beyond any mere understanding of the concepts. So when we subject
the Dharma to sceptical questioning, intuition and experience should
come into play as much as intellectual examination. Also
traditionally it is recommended that we have recourse to those whom
we consider to be wise and not rely totally on our own ability to
perceive the truth. We may simply not have the capacity as yet. This
point is illustrated in the Kalama Sutta. The Kalamas of
Kesaputta
were confused by all the different teachings they heard about how to
attain the Transcendental and they asked the Buddha how they could
tell what was correct and what wasn't. The Buddha said,
“Now
Kalamas, do not ye go by hearsay, nor by what is handed down by
others, nor by what people say, nor by what is stated on the
authority of your traditional teachings. Do not go by reasoning, nor
by inferring, nor by argument as to method, nor from reflection on
and approval of an opinion, nor out of respect, thinking a recluse
must be deferred to. But, Kalamas, when you know, of yourselves:
"These teachings are not good; they are blameworthy; they are
condemned by the wise: these teachings, when followed out and put in
practice, conduce to loss and suffering" - then reject them.”
There
are three things to note about this. Firstly, the questioning is
about methods of attaining the Transcendental, not about the
existence of a transcendental state or the possibility of attaining
it. The existence of a transcendental state is by its very nature not
susceptible to sceptical reasoning. Secondly, the teachings are to be
tested by the results achieved from practising them. In other words,
experience is the real touchstone. Thirdly, the testimony of the Wise
needs to be listened to carefully. In being receptive to what we hear
and read there is no need for us to be gullible, but to really know
for ourselves what is true we have to practise the teachings and
consider the views of those who are more spiritually experienced
If
we are truly receptive to the Dharma we will be humiliated by it. As
the Diamond Sutra says, "those sons of good family, who will
take up these very Sutras, and will bear them in mind, recite and
study them, they will be humbled, well humbled will they be!"
(4)
The
Dharma undermines our ego-identity and although we may think this is
a very good thing and nod approvingly when we hear about it, when it
actually starts to happen to us we may feel very distressed indeed.
We may even think that the Dharma is not really working properly,
because we intended to gain happiness and well-being and instead we
are feeling miserable. The spiritual life is a happy life but it is
not an easy life and as we become more aware we will discover
unpleasant truths about ourselves, This means that the Dharma is
working. A process of purification is underway and we need to
recognise this. We may feel humiliated because we are not the person
we thought we were or wanted others to think we were, but there is no
need to be despondent. As the process of gaining greater
self-knowledge and purifying ourselves carries on we will gradually
emerge happier and brighter. Spiritual rebirth often involves a
humiliating journey through the dark night of the soul. This is what
having our ego-identity undermined involves. We have to be
transformed, broken down and re-assembled, not simply re- decorated
with a new label such as Buddhist or Venerable or Reverend.
My
strongest personal experience of this was in 1986 when I was invited
on an Ordination retreat in Tuscany. I was invited in March and by
May I had started to experience all the parts of my psyche that
didn't want to have anything to do with Ordination or spiritual life.
I went to Tuscany but Sangharakshita felt he couldn't ordain me
because of the emotionally unstable state I was in. This was a shock.
I was devastated. My pride was squashed. My ego-sense was disoriented
and I entered a dark night of the soul; depression, anger, doubt,
isolation, fear.
But
it was impermanent thankfully and here I am, testimony to the fact
that humiliation is not fatal.
Traditionally,
the disciple was humiliated by the guru in order that the ego got a
good bashing. But really there is probably no need for anyone to
humiliate us in this way. If we practise the Dharma, if we meditate
and enter into communication with others, if we develop ethical
sensitivity and if we study the teachings, we will find ourselves
humbled often enough by our own selfishness and the sublimity of the
Ideal.
To
be humiliated by the Dharma is one thing, to practise humility
another. Humility as it is usually understood is not necessarily a
positive thing and may often be simply a form of inverted pride. It
may even be a way of avoiding humiliation. As James Boswell puts it
in "The Life of Samuel Johnson" – “Sometimes
[humility] may proceed from a man’s strong consciousness of his
faults being observed. He knows that others would throw him down, and
therefore he had better lie down softly of his own accord.” (5)
So it is not enough to be humble. In "Wisdom Beyond Words"
Sangharakshita puts it like this
“You
need to take risks. If you don't ever face the possibility of failure
then you don't ever face the possibility of humiliation and therefore
of growth. Failure will only have meaning for you if you have made a
tremendous effort to succeed. The terrible temptation is to venture
nothing. But in fact, the less you risk, the greater your fear of
failure, and the greater the potential humiliation. So much becomes
invested in the imperative of success that you cannot even give a
lecture in case it should not be an astounding success. You become
paralysed. You haven't gone beyond success and failure; you are
beneath them. It you're not careful, you become someone with a great
future behind them.” (6)
By
taking risks we can be humiliated. We need to learn to make the most
of humiliation. It is an opportunity to loosen our grip on our ego-
identity, an opportunity to become a little less attached to our
fixed self view and therefore an opportunity for spiritual insight.
There are all sorts of ordinary situations which we might find
humiliating. Travelling in a foreign country where we don't speak the
language could be humiliating. Being ill and losing control over our
body can be humiliating. Growing old and being patronised by younger
people could be humiliating. Giving a public talk and making a mess
of it could be humiliating. Trying to be friendly to someone and
getting rejected can be humiliating [NOTE]. I'm sure there are plenty
of other examples. Probably everyone has their own particular fear of
failure, which could involve the risk of humiliation. So there are
plenty of opportunities on a fairly mundane level for us to have an
experience of undermining our ego identity. But receptivity to the
Dharma will enable us to do a much more systematic and thorough job.
Receptivity
to the Dharma will turn us inside out and upside down as it were. It
will transform us. As Sangharakshita puts it, “Receptivity means
that one should be prepared for a radical change in ones whole mode
of being, ones whole way of life, ones whole way of looking at
things.” (7) Often we are not prepared for such radical change
and so we resist. We don't really want to see things differently. We
don't really want to see the truth although it may be staring us in
the face. For instance, the fact of death is extremely difficult to
really grasp, to feel with our whole being. We can see it all around
us if we look, but we don't take it in, we don't let it affect us to
the core of our being. It takes much reflection and practice before
we can really face the fact of death and especially the fact of our
own death. The story of Kisa Gotami illustrates this point:
“…….at
that this moment there came up a young girl carrying a dead baby on
her hip. I had seen her when I was last in Savatthi. Her name was
Kisa Gotami. She was thin of body and plain of feature, and born of a
poor family. She had been treated disdainfully by all, especially by
her husband’s family. Then she had borne a son, and people no
longer saw her ugly features, but respected her for he boy-child.
That was when I had last seen her. Now the child lay dead upon her
hip and she was distraught with grief. She told the Master that she
had gone from door to door pleading with folk to give her medicine to
restore her child to life, but they had all laughed at her. Then one
kinder than the others had told her of the Master, saying that he
could give her medicine for her child. And that was why she now came.
She held forth the child to the Master, and the depth of agony in her
eyes made her seem crazed. He looked upon her with deep tenderness
and said:
“Sister, go enter the town
and bring back a mustard seed; but - it must come from a house where
no one yet has died.” The young girl took the dust from his feet
and departed with great hope and joy. That evening she returned.
“Gotami, have you found the little mustard seed?” he asked. “The
work of the little mustard seed has been done,” she answered, and
went on to tell him what had happened. She had inquired of the first
house for a little mustard seed, which the great Buddha had said
would cure her child. The folk there were glad to give her mustard
seed, for they felt pity for her. Then she added: “But the mustard
seed must be from a house where none has yet died.” Then they of
that house said softly: “Who shall say how many have diedhere? Last
week the house-mother died here. The dead are many; the living are
few.”
“Such
mustard seed will then have no virtue,” she said, and departed
sorrowfully to a second house, where she was told the same thing, and
then to a third, but always they of the house replied: “The dead
are many; the living are few.” By evening she knew her quest would
have no ending, and the dead child grew heavy on her hip. Suddenly it
came to her that it was out of his great compassion the Master had
sent her upon this quest that she might find out for herself the
first great truth that all must suffer. Her eyes filled with tears
that the World Honoured One should seek to help her, even her, the
despised and ugly one. She took the dead child and laid him in a
charnel field, for she was poor and had no money for cremation. It
was late at night when the Master finished teaching Kisa Gotami. He
looked across to the city where the lights flickered and were
extinguished,
as one by one the folk lay down to sleep. Even so, he concluded, as
little lights are the lives of men. They flicker for an instant and
are gone.” (8)
The
Buddha was patient with Kisa Gotami but he didn't try to protect her
from the truth. He set her up to receive the teaching gradually. She
was receptive to the truth and seeing the implications, sought out
further teaching. Her openness to the truth brought about a radical
transformation. Receptivity means being prepared for radical and
total transformation. As Robert Thurman puts it:
“In
the face of the incomprehensibility of things, ordinary knowledge and
especially convictions are utterly lost; this is because the mind
loses its capacity to objectify anything and has nothing to grasp
onto. The mind reaches a stage where it can bear its lack of
bearings, as it were, can endure this kind of extreme openness.”
(9)
I
have been trying to communicate the importance of patience,
forgiveness and tolerance, both in our individual lives and on the
world stage. This is summed up in the verse from the Dhammapada which
I have quoted frequently: “Not by hatred are hatreds ever
pacified here. They are pacified by love. This is the eternal law.”
In South Africa this eternal law has been courageously put into
practice in the Truth and reconciliation process. One of the great
champions of this process and these virtues is South Africa’s
Bishop Desmond Tutu and I would like to give him the last word:
“Forgiveness
is not abstract or woolly. It comes when we recognise our
relatedness, what we call ubuntu. It’s warm and welcoming and means
“I am because you are.” (10)
Notes:
- Puja, Windhorse 1999
- Sangharakshita, A Survey of Buddhism, Windhorse 1993, p.194
- Numerical Discourses of the Buddha, trans. Nyanaponika & Bodhi, Altamira 1999, p.65
- Sangharakshita,Wisdom Beyond Words, Windhorse 1993, p.157
- J. Boswell, The Life of Samuel Johnson
- Sangharakshita,Wisdom Beyond Words, Windhorse 1993, p.160
- Sangharakshita, Masculinity and Femininity in the Spiritual Life, Lions Roar, Norwich 1987, p.13
- Marie Beauzeville Byles, Footprints of the Buddha,Quest 1972, p.96/97
- The Holy Teaching of Vimalakirti, trans. R. Thurman, introduction.
- Dharma Life magazine, No. 9, Windhorse 1998, p.35
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