Guest Blog about movie Crazy Wisdom

As someone learning about Chogyam Trungpa for the first time I found Crazy Wisdom to be a very interesting moving. There were times during the movie where I felt a little put off by him and other times during the movie where I felt inspired and intrigued by him. I don't know if this was part of the intent, but it certainly kept me paying attention and wanting more.

I'm not sure if I really picked up on the Crazy Wisdom thing though. From what I understand Crazy Wisdom is the behavior and way of teaching that can occur in someone who is very spiritually mature. Behavior that is seen to be 'unconventional, outrageous, or unexpected'. To me this means employing such behavior in order to spread the Dharma. Thinking outside of the box, albeit very far outside of the box, in order to get the message across. Other than his habit of drinking, smoking and sleeping with many of his disciples, I didn't see much outrageous behavior and I certainly didn't recognize any of this behavior in his actual teachings. Maybe I missed it though.

There were beautiful scenes in the movie and it was really fascinating to see images of the monastery where Padmasambhava meditated as well as the burial/cremation ceremony of Chogyam Trungpa.

I think the thing that struck me most in this movie was the level of attachment that his disciples seemed to have towards him. Breaking the cycle of craving and attachment is the key element in Buddhism and yet, Chogyam Trungpa's disciples seemed so attached to him. So much so, that it was cultish. Maybe it was the time in which he was around. And though he was a great man, I believe it is important to recognize and acknowledge this because it does affect one's view of Buddhism and there are too many people out there who still believe that Buddhism is a 'cult' society. And we are to grow the movement and change that view, we have to acknowledge it.

Another key element for me, which was a purposeful part of the story line, was his realness. His pure comfort with who he was and the ease with which he existed. He was himself, he was laid-back, but passionate and serious about his beliefs and teachings and I think this is a large part of why he was so revered. He was accessible. Many of the people who were interviewed about him said that had a certain light and lightness about him, that there was just something about him that was enchanting and glorious. I saw it too. Regardless of whether or not I was put off at times.

It is said that in wanting to bring Buddhism to the west, he decided that he needed to immerse himself in the ways and customs of the westerners in order to determine the most appropriate way to teach them. And though I understand the intent, many times he seemed as though he was behaving recklessly, showing a lack of thought or concern for his disciples. Almost as if he just wanted to go and see how the other half lived, so to speak. Perhaps this is what Crazy Wisdom refers to. As I said before, there were times when I felt put off, this was one of those times. But at the same time, I really wasn't sure because there were always teachings and quite frankly, he made a lot of people happy and helped to grow the movement and so, he was successful. That's not to say that reckless behavior is okay, but sometimes things are hard to decipher and many positive things came out of it and for now, for me, that's okay. I'm going to read more about him and his contributions and perhaps refine my thoughts a bit more.

All in all, he is just too interesting to not learn more about. The conflicting actions and behaviors between Chogyam Trungpa's life and the traditional Buddhist teachings are almost a perfect lesson in Buddhism and therefore deserve nothing less than further contemplation.

by Cori Viles
http://undertheinfluenceoffood.wordpress.com/

Guest Blog

Thank you, Steve, for inviting my experience. I parsed your suggestions into reflections on the Three Jewels--

On the Buddha:
I have been ‘officially’ practicing now for almost 3 and a half years, though my awareness of Buddhism started eleven years ago. I was living in Spain at the time, and a friend had invited me to sit in on a practice night. I also had a chance to see the Dalai Lama speak that year. But like all good things that take incubation before illumination, I left the experience generally unmoved, but astounded by the simple statement, “When the pupil is ready, the guru appears.”

And so, many years later I have had many teachers and continue to grow from my own experiences, learning to understand myself deeper and deeper over time. My relationship to the Buddha has changed as I have played with different understandings of the world and my place here. I remember when I was in San Francisco (at the beginning of my regular visits to the then FWBO), I struggled with the idea of bowing to the Buddha. I’ve never related much to the idea of Buddha as a man who lived, whose achievement could be inspirational. But, I grew to like the idea of Buddha-nature; of the idea that I was already enlightened; and that slowly over time I am merely working to lift the self-imposed veils from my experience.

At first that, too, was problematic—thinking, “If I am enlightened, why would I not just experience enlightenment with effort of will alone?”, “How did I get started on the wheel of suffering, if I started as an enlightened being?” But, over time, my understanding of this, too, has changed. I read a translation of the Dao De Jing by Ames and Hall that blew my mind wide open. Later, combining ideas from this book with those in Conversations with God by Walsch, I came to appreciate my participation in samsara as ‘expressed curiosity in knowing myself as Creator.’

Today, I am content with the understanding that my experience is exercise, and that my nature is rest. Perhaps if I become fully mindful, I may participate in a way unmotivated by greed, hatred or delusion. This is what I understand as Buddha-nature.

On the Dharma:
Not exactly my strong point! I can’t get myself to read too many books—especially the classics. Ugh! But I enjoy Sangharakshita’s writings a lot. And I have read some by Chöki Nyima Rinpoche that blew my mind. Actually—maybe I have done more reading than I thought… wow, now I’m kind of touched. Here I had been flogging myself [mindfully ;)] earlier this month, and now I realize my situation’s actually not that
bad. I suppose it’s important to me that I read what speaks to me, and moves me further along the path. Even if they’re not the books I think I “should” be reading, that doesn’t necessarily make them books I “shouldn’t” be reading. So, my top picks:

(1) The Essential Sangharakshita, by Sangharakshita

I really enjoy this book for its ability to capture nuggets of insight, and deliver them as tasty morsels. Good for food-for-thought—not too overwhelming, just right. Sangharakshita is playful in his delivery of important points for clarity in practice.

(2) A Few Words of Heart-to-Heart Advice, by Chöki Nyima Rinpoche
What a way with words! I feel like Chöki Nyima Rinpoche is able to pierce straight to the point with delicate words that both softly and directly communicate powerful truths. I feel like there is a precision with his words that is invaluable.

(3) Anger, by Thich Nhat Hanh
This book might have been my first introduction to true metta. He describes at one point treating one’s anger like an infant--holding it, caring for it. I remember the first time I read that I just cried and cried. I couldn’t imagine holding my pain with that much loving-kindness. Just introducing the very awareness of the possibility of deep, connective loving-kindness in a time of intense pain was transformative. It took me years to read that book—every 20 pages I’d start bawling my eyes out. Lol!! You can imagine—I wasn’t very motivated to finish!!! Nonetheless, it was a very good start to something integral to practice.

On the Sangha:
This is where I really feel my heart warm and my chest soften. Triratna has been an incredible resource when it comes to establishing and nurturing the spiritual community. I was first introduced to the then FWBO in San Francisco when a friend invited me to sangha night. I had been practicing qi gong and reiki for a few years by that point, and thought it was a natural progression to try proper meditation. There was a lot on my mind at the time, as I had just taken my national boards after graduation from Chinese medicine school. So, while waiting for my results, I started going to sangha night.

The joke is, I think ‘what initially brought me there was blah blah blah, but what kept me there was sangha [said with a very stern and sure face, like ‘another car sold!’]. But the truth is, isn’t what brought me there… sangha? It was a spiritual friend, inviting me to explore and accept the spiritual friendship of others, and to give the same of myself to others. The trouble was even after living on the West coast for four years, the New York attitude was still in my veins—I had no idea what community was!! Lol!! I used to pride myself in the ability to do everything by myself—to buy single serve anything in a city that served millions of single people doing whatever served their individual purpose in a given minute. It’s true! So, discovering community, like it were a new continent—I was unsure, but felt I was onto something….

Three Triratna centers later, I can say for sure, I was onto something!—something really, really good!! Each had their particular personalities, but the same feeling: warmth, interest and kindness. San Francisco in a lot of ways was like a beacon of information. I loved the dharma talks and all the handing off of the baton from one member to the next. With each discussion and introduction, was a new perspective on
the same truths. Spending time with the sangha was like discovering the many facets of a gem. Each beautiful, and a completely different approach from the other. I will always think fondly on the San Francisco community.

Next, I lived in NY and had the pleasure of practicing under Vajramati’s tireless effort. The NY sangha taught me much of moving the ‘idea’ of sangha into practice. While in SF I saw myself as having a place in the sangha (i.e. feeling I ‘belonged’), in NY I started forging a relationship to the individuals within the community. It was no longer a relationship of me to the whole, but me to that which makes up the whole—seeing the value and relationship of the members of the spiritual community as integral to the practice. I recognized I needed them as much as they needed me. That’s the spiritual community: Equanimity. A tremendous learning that resulted in my asking to become a mitra.

Today, I practice with the Seattle sangha. I miss the people in NY, but their dedication inspires me. The Seattle sangha is two to three times as large; and I appreciate being back with such a fullness in the room. Though we have only one ordained member as well [compared to NY], we get quite a few visitors from San Francisco and Vancouver. It also makes a huge difference that we have a place to our own here. It feels so good to have a space dedicated to learning and to practice. We have a small library and ‘book store,’ as well as a place for tea and treats. Somehow I feel Aryaloka seemed closer to NY than our closest retreat center here; but that may also be due to Danakamala’s welcoming invitation to forge stronger ties between the East coast communities. Nonetheless, I miss that sense of active connection to other communities—the reminder that though we are apart, we work towards the same goals, taking the same steps one at a time.

I feel fortunate and grateful for this opportunity to explore my relationship to the spiritual community. I’m not sure anything less than all the big-picture, close-up, absent, and knee-high experiences could have woken me out of my stupor. The reminder that we are participating, that we are seen and heard is integral to choosing how we want to participate. And watching how others participate is integral to learning how we want to participate. The sangha is this—the mirror and the reflection, an invaluable resource for the cultivation of loving kindness and our much-needed support towards enlightenment.

Thank you, to my teachers and to my friends.

--Melissa Dana
May all beings be well; may all being be happy.