One of the delicious paradoxes of the Buddhist path is found in the phrases “self power” and “other power.”  What do they mean, and why do they present a paradox?

Some schools of Buddhism emphasize that realization of enlightenment comes through one’s own efforts; no one can give it to you. This is reinforced by verse 165 from the Dhammapada:

“By oneself is evil done; by oneself is one defiled. By oneself is evil left undone; by oneself is one made pure. Purity and impurity depend on oneself; no one can purify another.” (Acharya Buddharakkhita translation)

Yet, at the same time, the teachings say the “self” is an illusion. So what “self” does the powering? This makes no sense!

Read More: Self, No Self, What’s a Self?

Other schools, notably Pure Land, developed an “other power” path. The Chinese monk Tanluan (476-542 CE), a patriarch of Pure Land, thought that the emphasis on self power reinforced self-centeredness, which is an obvious barrier to realization.

Instead, Pure Land emphasizes faith in the power of Amitabha Buddha to bring beings to the Pure Land, a place in which realizing enlightenment is as natural as breathing.

Read More: Pure Lands: Buddha-Fields of Enlightenment

However, the “self power” advocates can be very critical of the “other power” approach, saying that “other power” tends to reinforce the idea of a separate, permanent self that needs to be helped.

Jiriki and Tariki

In Japanese Buddhism, “self power” is called jiriki and “other power” is tariki. Of these, D.T. Suzuki wrote,

“Shin Buddhism is tariki (Other Power), Zen is jiriki (self-power), or so it is generally assumed, but that is rather a superficial observation. At bottom, when you really get down to it, there is no jiriki and no tariki. Or you might say that both are jiriki and both are tariki.” [from “Anjin: Zen to Shin,” originally published in the June 1965 issue of Kokoro]

Okay, what’s going on here? In so many words, Suzuki explained that Amitabha Buddha cannot help anyone whose karma has not brought him to a place where he can be helped. And we are responsible for our own karma; we create it by our thoughts, words and deeds.

What about Zen? I’m thinking of these words of Eihei Dogen, from the Genjokoan —

To study the Buddha Way is to study the self.
To study the self is to forget the self.
To forget the self is to be enlightened by the ten thousand things.

When we forget the self, we are enlightened by the ten thousand things (which is a fancy way of saying “everything”). When we forget the self, what is left? All beings throughout space and time, manifesting their original Buddha Nature. In Mahayana Buddhism especially, enlightenment is realized together with all beings.

And there’s the delicious paradox — practice/enlightenment is something you do with everyone else, because no one is separate. Not one, not many.

This is why bodhicitta is so important in Mahayana Buddhism. Bodhicitta is the sincere desire to realize enlightenment for the sake of others. Your “self-effort” is not about you.

Sometimes the spiritual path can be very selfish. It can be all about building a new, improved, minty-fresh self.  No matter what your practice is, if it’s all about you, it’s going to fail. True self-power requires opening up and letting everyone else in.

This is another reason why it’s ideal to practice within a community. I realize that’s not always possible. But it does reinforce the truth that our self-effort is also other-effort. And vice versa.

[This is an article I wrote for the Buddhism section of About.com. However, since About.com has removed it from their servers, all rights revert to me.]

In 1913, His Holiness the 13th Dalai Lama issued what many call a “declaration of independence” for Tibet from the Republic of China. The 13th Dalai Lama’s position was that the Gelugpa leadership of Tibet had a relationship with (but were not subjects of) the the Manchu Emperors of China, not the nation-state of China. When the Qing Dynasty was overthrown in 1911, any ties between China and Tibet were severed, His Holiness said.

His Holiness Thubten Gyatso, the 13th Dalai Lama

The proclamation, given to the people of Tibet, begins by affirming the Dalai Lama’s authority to rule Tibet. He evoked Tibet’s ancient kings and Avalokiteshvara, patron deity of Tibet, from whom the Dalai Lamas emanate. This part of the proclamation follows a tradition begun by the 5th Dalai Lama.

His Holiness then described the relationship with the Manchu emperors as a “patron-priest” relationship, which was something significant in the histories of both Tibet and China, going back to the time of Genghis Khan. High lamas of Tibet acted as spiritual advisers to Mongol and Chinese rulers, and in return received protection from their powerful disciples. For example, his patron/disciple Gushi Khan secured the leadership of Tibet for the 5th Dalai Lama.

A Sakya lama named Pagpa gave empowerments and teachings to Kublai Khan (1215-1294), which made the two patron and priest. Since Kublai Khan ruled China, and the Sakyas were the tenuous rulers of Tibet at the time, this patron-priest relationship is sometimes evoked by China today as part of its claim to Tibet. But historians tell us the Great Khan would not have seen Pagpa as his subject, but as his guru.

The 13th Dalai Lama’s proclamation begins:

“I, the Dalai Lama, most omniscient possessor of the Buddhist faith, whose title was conferred by the Lord Buddha’s command from the glorious land of India, speak to you as follows:

“I am speaking to all classes of Tibetan people. Lord Buddha, from the glorious country of India, prophesied that the reincarnations of Avalokitesvara, through successive rulers from the early religious kings to the present day, would look after the welfare of Tibet.

“During the time of Genghis Khan and Altan Khan of the Mongols, the Ming dynasty of the Chinese, and the Ch’ing Dynasty of the Manchus, Tibet and China cooperated on the basis of benefactor and priest relationship. A few years ago, the Chinese authorities in Szechuan and Yunnan endeavored to colonize our territory. They brought large numbers of troops into central Tibet on the pretext of policing the trade markets. I, therefore, left Lhasa with my ministers for the Indo-Tibetan border, hoping to clarify to the Manchu emperor by wire that the existing relationship between Tibet and China had been that of patron and priest and had not been based on the subordination of one to the other. There was no other choice for me but to cross the border, because Chinese troops were following with the intention of taking me alive or dead.

“On my arrival in India, I dispatched several telegrams to the Emperor; but his reply to my demands was delayed by corrupt officials at Peking. Meanwhile, the Manchu empire collapsed. The Tibetans were encouraged to expel the Chinese from central Tibet. I, too, returned safely to my rightful and sacred country, and I am now in the course of driving out the remnants of Chinese troops from DoKham in Eastern Tibet. Now, the Chinese intention of colonizing Tibet under the patron-priest relationship has faded like a rainbow in the sky.”

The remainder of the proclamation, which you may read on this page, lists the 13th Dalai Lama’s intentions for the future direction of Tibet.

Also in 1913, the provisional president of the Republic of China, Yuan Shikai, wrote the Dalai Lama asking for his allegiance to his “mother country.” The letter promised to overlook the Dalai Lama’s “former errors” and bestow on him a long title that began with “Loyal and Submissive Vice Regent.” His Holiness replied that he hadn’t asked for any titles, and that he “intended to exercise both temporal and ecclesiastic rule in Tibet.”

Lobsang Gyatso, the 5th Dalai Lama

The Dalai Lama is a high lama of the Gelug school (also called Gelugpa) of Tibetan Buddhism.

Before the birth of the 5th Dalai Lama, the Gelug school had suffered a blow. Some years earlier central Tibet had split into two small, warring kingdoms, U and Tsang. The rulers of U were patrons of Gelugpa, but the rulers of Tsang supported another school, Kagyu. The strife escalated into fighting between monks of the two schools.

During the time of the short-lived 4th Dalai Lama, the king of Tsang defeated the king of U and proclaimed himself king of central Tibet. The Gelug school had lost its patron and found itself in a precarious position. The king of Tsang even banned Gelugpa from ordaining a 5th Dalai Lama.

A Lama Reborn

In 1617 a boy was born into a family of wealthy aristocrats and named Künga Nyingpo. This remarkable boy caught the attention of Karma Kagyu and other schools, but secretly an attendant of the 4th Dalai Lama had identified Künga Nyingpo as his master’s rebirth.

To complicate matters, when Künga Nyingpo was only three his father was been imprisoned for conspiring against the king of Tsang. The father would die in prison without seeing his son again. Künga Nyingpo’s mother raised the boy in seclusion in her family home, away from the king of Tsang’s court. A few years passed.

Some accounts say that Gelugpa kept its finding of the boy secret until the king of Tsang reversed the ban. Other accounts say that squabbling among the schools caused the king to relent and let Gelugpa have him.

When his identity as the 5th Dalai Lama finally was revealed, however, he had to go into hiding once again.

The Mongolian Connection

Years earlier, the 3rd Dalai Lama and a Mongol tribal leader named Altan Khan had forged an alliance. In fact, it was Altan Khan who coined the title “Dalai Lama,” meaning “ocean of wisdom.” The Third gave Altan Khan teachings and initiations in return for Altan Khan’s patronage. The Mongol-Gelugpa alliance was reinforced when a Mongol boy was identified as the 4th Dalai Lama.

When the identify of the 5th Dalai Lama was made public, Mongols in Lhasa loyal to the old alliance wanted to take the boy to a Mongol stronghold. The Gelug elders were anxious for the boy to begin his life as a monk, however. To keep him from being spirited away by Mongol admirers he had to hide for another year.

At long last, the ten-year-old tulku was taken to Drepung Monastery, where the 3rd Panchen Lama ordained him as Ngawang Lobsang Gyatso, the 5th Dalai Lama.

A Dalai Lama’s Education

Lobsang Gyatso had a precocious intellect and a love of study. By all accounts he mastered Buddhist philosophy easily. He also studied astrology, medicine and poetry.

At the age of 19 the 5th Dalai Lama became the student of Paljor Lhundrup, abbot of Pahongka monastery. Paljor Lhundrup was an unconventional teacher who combined Gelugpa with Nyingmapa, an older school of Tibetan Buddhism. Through Paljor Lhundrup, the 5th Dalai Lama secretly took up Dzogchen, or “great perfection,” a central practice of Nyingmapa that at the time was hotly criticized by the elders of Gelugpa.

A New Mongol Patron

Since the time of Altan Khan, Gelug Buddhism had spread throughout Mongolia. And as the 5th Dalai Lama grew to adulthood, a newly converted tribal leader of western Mongolia fought his way toward Tibet.

Gushi (sometimes spelled Gushri) Khan (1582-1655) and his army reached the edge of Tibet in 1637. Then Gushi Khan made his way to Lhasa to pay his respects to the Dalai Lama. The 5th Dalai Lama, now 20 years old, was impressed by the battle-hardened warrior, and the meeting went well.

The Dalai Lama accepted the patronage of Gushi Khan and gave him the title “Dharma King, Upholder of the Teachings.” He also gave Gushi Khan a gold statue of Tsongkhapa, the founder of the Gelug school. A bond was formed between the lama and the warrior.

The Conquest of Tibet

At that time Gelugpa monasteries in eastern Tibet were suffering under a ruler who favored Bon, a religion indigenous to Tibet. With the Dalai Lama’s permission, Gushi Khan moved into eastern Tibet and secured the territory for Gelugpa. But Gushi Khan did not stop there. He and his army continued eastward into central Tibet, attacking and eventually deposing the king of Tsang.

Historians believe that the young Dalai Lama himself did not order the attack on central Tibet. Instead, permission to attack came from older Gelugpa lamas and from the Desi, an official appointed by the Dalai Lama to manage his political affairs.

However it happened, when the king of Tsang surrendered in April 1642, the Dalai Lama and Gushi Khan met once more, this time on a battlefield, to exchange titles and gifts. Here it was that His Holiness the 5th Dalai Lama was proclaimed political and spiritual leader of Tibet.

But Tibet was not yet conquered. The 10th Karmapa of the Karma Kagyu school and his monks occupied a stronghold called the Encampment. The Dalai Lama sent a message to the Karmapa asking him to agree to not challenge Gelugpa authority, and in exchange the Encampment would be left alone. When the Karmapa refused, the Encampment was surrounded by Tibetan and Mongol soldiers. Soon the Encampment was destroyed, many monks were slaughtered, and the Karmapa was a refugee in the mountains of Bhutan.

A revolt by followers of Karma Kagyu and the king of Tsang was brutally repulsed by Gushi Khan, accompanied by the Desi. The king of Tsang was captured and killed. Kagyu monasteries were forcibly converted to Gelugpa. Teachings of other schools critical of Tsongkhapa and Gelugpa were banned. Even Nyingmapa lamas thought to have performed spells to repel the Mongols were imprisoned.

Potala Palace

There are many different ways to meditate. Even within Buddhism, the various meditation schools don’t all approach meditation exactly the same way. Further, the “best” way to meditate varies from one person to another; there isn’t necessarily any “one size fits all” practice.

However, having participated in a number of “introduction to meditation” classes and having answered lots of questions over the years, I’ve noticed some common problems that often come up, and not just among beginners. So, while the best meditation practice for you may not be exactly the same practice as mine, I can provide some general advice about avoiding these problems — or, how not to meditate.

1. Stress Reduction Versus Spiritual Practice

First, clarify why you are meditating. Meditation has been sold in the West as a stress-reduction technique. It can help reduce stress, but its original purpose is to help you wake up, not chill out.

If you are looking for a safe and natural practice to relieve stress, small daily doses of mindfulness may be just the thing.

 

If you are interested in Buddhist meditation as a spiritual practice, however, your approach to meditation will be somewhat different. And be advised that the experience of meditation will not always be relaxing. However, if you stick with it you probably will find that you cope with stress and “roll with the punches” much more skillfully than before.

Read More: The Mindfulness Controversy 1: Work and War; The Mindfulness Controversy 2: Mindfulness Therapy.

2. Don’t Expect Bliss

The Sanskrit word for “meditation” is bhavana, which means “mental cultivation” or “mental development.” The word “mental” in this case does not refer just to thinking and reason, but to a wide spectrum of mind-body functions — sensation, awareness, emotions, attitudes, predilections.

Read More: The Misunderstanding of Mind; the Three Kinds of Mind

One way to think of bhavana is that it’s a kind of training. You are training mind to understand and experience in a different way. Contrary to popular notions of Buddhist meditation, however, the point is not to “bliss out” or go to some happy place away from your problems while you meditate. A regular meditation practice will enable you to confront the root causes of your problems and let them go, but this is the opposite of escapism.

If you are practicing in a school of Vajrayana Buddhism you may be instructed to visualize tantric deities or mandalas. However, most of the time in Buddhist meditation you are advised not to push yourself to conjure up visions or out-of-body experiences. You may have unaccountable sensory experiences, but most of the time these are just your neurons misfiring; they don’t mean anything. Don’t attach to them.

What about satori? Isn’t that supposed to be a rush? Perhaps, but there really is such a thing as premature satori, which happens when people push themselves into a deep meditative state before they are properly prepared for it. This is a bit like attempting to compete in a marathon without training for it. The results will be frustrating and best and dangerous at worse.

3. Don’t Judge

By “don’t judge” I mean don’t judge your meditation practice. If you’ve begun a meditation practice and you are fretting that it isn’t what you expected, stop fretting. If you are doing your best then your practice is fine; it’s your expectations that were screwy. Let them go. (However, see Item 7, below.)

More experienced meditators sometimes judge themselves during intensive meditation retreats. We may find ourselves slogging through meditation periods sleepy or uncomfortable, or unable to focus because we keep thinking about our jobs or marriages or the Visa bill. And when the period ends we are frustrated and unhappy with ourselves, because we think we aren’t doing it right.

This judging is a problem in two ways. One, if we hang on to that negativity it will spill over into the next meditation period and the one after that. Second, the truth is that sometimes the sessions when our knees ache and our mind will not be still are great training. It’s like lifting weights; when you struggle, you’re getting stronger. And sometimes a really “awful” meditation period will be followed by an amazing one. Just don’t judge.

4. Posture Is Important

Some schools of Buddhism are stricter about meditation body positions than others, and most give you a choice of leg positions and may even allow you to meditate in a chair. But that doesn’t mean teachers who insist on a particular body position and who correct you if you slouch are just being anal.

There are two primary reasons why some Buddhist schools make a big bleeping deal about meditation body forms. One reason is that schools in which the practice involves sitting still for long stretches of time have learned there are safe and not-so-safe ways to do that. Especially if you are in less-than-peak physical condition sitting still can be remarkably painful. And if you aren’t doing it right you could damage joints, squeeze organs or cut off circulation in limbs. Many generations of practitioners figured out exactly how to position themselves to avoid serious pain or injury, and this experience has given us the “approved” meditation positions.

The other reason is that body position really does affect meditation experience. Buddhist meditation isn’t something you do only in your head; it engages the entire body and mind. Experienced meditators nearly always come to appreciate that exactly how the spine is aligned, what hand mudra you use, whether the chest feels “open” or “closed,” all color the mind and can make a huge difference in the meditation experience.

5. It’s Not Outside, It’s Not Inside

Usually in beginner meditation class the teacher will explain that wisdom isn’t “out there” somewhere and is something you must find within yourself. This usually sets us up for a few years of prodding around inside ourselves, so to speak, looking for the elusive E (for Enlightenment) Spot.

The truth is, it’s not outside, it’s not inside. Or it’s both outside and inside; either one. “Outside” and “inside” are arbitrary designations that don’t signify anything important. When you’re ready the E Spot will be everywhere. Just practice.

6. Not Too Tight, Not Too Loose

The Buddha compared practice to a stringed musical instrument. If the strings are too tight they will break; if they are too loose they won’t play notes.

Sometimes people begin Buddhist practice with huge enthusiasm and set impossible meditation schedules and goals for themselves. And they burn out, and quit. This is like the tight string that breaks. And others sometimes don’t commit to practice and only meditate occasionally; this is being too loose.

People who are trying to fit a meditation practice into a life already stuffed with job, family and other obligations are advised to set a moderate meditation pace; say, five to ten minutes a day. You can always add time if you want to. But it’s better to meditate for five minutes every day than for two hours every Saturday.

7. The Role of a Teacher

There are many books and websites that provide good instructions for how to meditate. Even so, I strongly recommend seeking the guidance of someone recognized as a meditation master by an established school of Buddhism.

If you are committed to the do-it-yourself ideal, please note that I’m not saying you have to commit your life to a guru and live in an ashram. If may be that your meditation mentor is someone you see only once or twice a year at a weekend retreat. Having someone who knows you and who can give you one-on-one advice when you need it can make a huge difference, however.

Read More: Finding Your Teacher

There really are pitfalls and dangers on the meditation path, and the established traditions have cataloged these pitfalls and have worked out ways to deal with them. Because of the popularity of meditation a lot of people are teaching meditation and leading retreats who have no training in a Buddhist practice tradition and don’t fully appreciate what can go wrong, so watch out for this.

Read More: Buddhist Meditation and the Dark Night

8. Don’t Wall Yourself Off

An important aspect of Buddhist meditation is loosening the bonds of ego. The Four Noble Truths teach us that our problems stem from the delusion that “I” am something enclosed within this skin, and everything beyond this skin is “other.”

For this reason, it’s long been recognized that if we practice only to benefit ourselves it’s probably not going to work. Although we all may begin practice seeking remedy for ourselves, if our practice is sincere we will become more sensitive to the suffering of others and wish to benefit them, also. Otherwise, our meditation practice can amount to marinating in our own egos, reinforcing the self-and-other dichotomy instead of dissolving it.

For this reason, the experience of meditating with others is hugely beneficial. Again, this doesn’t mean you have to join a sangha. Maybe just once a week or so you take part in a meditation group in your community.

One of the potential perils of a solo practice is that practice can become this intensely personal thing that is yours and yours alone and which may be compromised if shared with others. This is a common phase many of us go through, actually, but it’s important to not stick there.  One of the fruits of practice is a natural turning away from self-clinging as the wall between self and other dissolves. Sharing practice with others facilitates this.

On the other hand, if you remain stuck in “I can do this by myself” mode, you’re stuck, period. If you find yourself becoming edgy and self-defensive at the idea of meditating with others or consulting with a teacher, consider this a warning sign that there’s an unhealthy amount of ego-attachment in your practice.

Nearly all of us who engage in a meditation practice smack into one or more of these problems eventually; some of us smack into all of them. I hope you find this list helpful.

[This is an article I wrote for the Buddhism section of About.com. However, since About.com has removed it from their servers, all rights revert to me.]

The population of Cambodia is approximately 95 percent Theravada Buddhist, as high a percentage as anywhere in Asia. Cambodian Buddhism is associated with the historic Ankgor Wat temple, a jewel of Khmer civilization. The Khmer, who have lived in what is now Cambodia since the 9th century, are the dominant ethnic group in Cambodia.

Buddhism reached Cambodia before the Khmer, however. It is recorded that the Emperor Ashoka sent missionaries to that part of Asia in the 3rd century BCE (see “The Third Buddhist Council: Pataliputra II“). However, the mission seems to have failed.

There is evidence that Buddhism was being practiced in Cambodia by about the 3rd century CE. This was a Sanskrit lineage, possibly Sarvastivada or early Mahayana. Hinduism was also prevalent in the region, resulting in a kind of Buddhist-Hindu hybrid practice that included veneration of Shiva. Chinese travelers recorded that by the 5th century Buddhism was thriving in the region.

The first Khmer king, Jayavarman II (802-869), appears to have associated himself with Shiva, but he also was supportive of Mahayana Buddhism. By then the form of Mahayana being practiced also included elements of tantra yoga along with elements of Hinduism. This religious fusion was practiced by the Khmer through the reign of Jayavarman VII (1181–1215), a great patron of religion.

It was about this time that Theravada Buddhism was making gains among the Khmer, probably brought there by Sinhalese monks from Ceylon (Sri Lanka). One of Jayavarman VII’s sons became a monk and studied in Ceylon, and after he returned the Khmer began to convert to Theravada Buddhism.

Within a few decades, Mahayana had faded away was entirely replaced by Theravada.

Buddhist monks in front of the reflection pool at Angkor Wat, Cambodia. Photo by Ekabhishek, courtesy Wikipedia Commons, Creative Commons License.

Angkor Wat

This famous temple complex is nearly 200 miles northwest of Phnom Penh, but when construction began it was at the heart of the Khmer civilization. Construction is credited to the Khmer King Suryavarman II, who reigned from 1131 to 1150. The complex covers 200 acres and is surrounded by a moat.

The temple originally was dedicated to the Hindu god Vishnu.

Much of the art in the temple, such as the bas-relief carving, depicts scenes from Hindu mythology. It was crafted at the height of Khmer culture and the quality of the art is superb.

By the time Jayavarman VII reigned in the late 12th century, the temple already was being rededicated to Buddhism. But in the 15th century the Khmer civilization collapsed, possibly in part because of food and water scarcity. Although some monks continued to live there, the surrounding population moved elsewhere. Slowly, the temple complex was reclaimed by the jungle.

The complex was unknown to the outside world until French explorers discovered it in the mid-19th century.

The French were so astonished at the beauty and sophistication of the ruined temple that they refused to believe it had been built by the Khmer. It is now a UNESCO World Heritage site, and work to restore the temple is ongoing.

Cambodia After the Khmer Empire

After the Khmer Empire collapsed the population shifted to what is now Phnom Pehn. Buddhism continued to flourish and even proved to be resistant to the efforts of Christian missionaries, who began arriving in the 16th century.

Cambodian society and civilization were much disrupted by European colonialism, however, In the 19th century Cambodia became part of French Indochina, and monks occasionally stirred up resistance to the French.

However, the darkest phase of Cambodian Buddhist history took place under the rule of the Khmer Rouge, which took control of Cambodia in 1975. The Khmer Rouge were determined to destroy Buddhism. In a very few years Cambodia’s monks had been either forcibly de-frocked or executed, and nearly every Buddhist temple and library had been destroyed.

The Khmer Rouge were ousted in 1979 when Vietnamese troops invaded and took control of Phnom Pehn. Buddhism continued to be suppressed during the Vietnamese occupation, however, which continued to 1991. When Cambodia returned to self-government, Buddhism was declared to be the state religion.

[This is an article I wrote for the Buddhism section of About.com. However, since About.com has removed it from their servers, all rights revert to me.]

The dedication of merit is a spiritual practice that, as far as I know, is unique to Buddhism. Further, it appears to be a practice found in all schools of Buddhism. However, it’s often a practice overlooked by westerners who may find the whole idea of “merit” confusing.

The English word “merit” means to be good or worthy of praise. Buddhists sometimes speak of “making” merit, and describe merit as something one accumulates through good deeds.

But of course, to a Buddhist this also begs the question, “if the self is an illusion, who is it that accumulates? Who is it that is worthy?”

Read More: Self, No Self, What’s a Self?

It may help to look at the Sanskrit or Pali words translated as “merit,” which are punya or punna, respectively. These words are sometimes defined as an inner sense of well-being. This inner sense comes from doing the right thing.

The Theravada monk and scholar Thanissaro Bhikkhu said that developing merit provides an essential foundation for Buddhist practice. “To paraphrase a modern Buddhist psychologist, one cannot wisely let go of one’s sense of self until one has developed a wise sense of self,” he wrote.

However, other dictionaries define punya or punna as “actions leading to good fortune.” In some schools of Buddhism, practitioners traditionally were told that accumulation of merit would eventually lead to a more fortunate rebirth that allows for the realization of enlightenment. If this doesn’t work for you, just think of it as a kind of provisional teaching that is helpful for others.

But very simply, dedicating merit simply means to share the merit with others. The dedication of merit is one way to not “cling” to your good deeds, or to not allow your merit-making to turn into a strategy for constructing a self. For this reason, merit dedications are a common part of Buddhist liturgy.

How to Dedicate Merit

There are many merit-making chants, but before we get to those let’s look at intention and understanding.

It’s often taught that a proper dedication must be purified of the three conceptual spheres, or the three spheres of an action. These are (1) the individual performing the action, (2) the object or subject of the action, and (3) the action itself. To be purified of the three spheres means that one fully realizes that the self, the “others” receiving the merit, and the merit itself are empty of a permanent self-essence.

One way to understand this is to consider that the dedication is not about you or your merit or the recipient; it is about all beings in space and time. In their book Natural Great Perfection: Dzogchen Teachings and Vajra Songs, Nyoshul Khenpo Rinpoche and Lama Surya Das said,

“When we practice bodhicitta prayers or meditations, it may look like we are alone, like we are practicing for ourselves, but we are not practicing for ourselves, and we are not alone. All beings are interconnected, and in that sense they are present or affected. Milarepa sang, ‘When I am alone, meditating in the mountains, all the Buddhas past, present, and future are with me. Guru Marpa is always with me. All beings are here.'”

Two Dedication Chants

There are infinite chants dedicating merit, some brief and some long. This is from the Theravada Forest Monk tradition:

May all beings always live happily,
free from animosity.
May all share in the blessings
springing from the good I have done.

From Tibetan Buddhism, here is a short dedication attributed to Nagarjuna:

By this merit may all attain omniscience.
May it defeat the enemy, wrongdoing.
From the stormy waves of birth, old age, sickness and death;
From the ocean of samsara, may I free all beings!

[This is an article I wrote for the Buddhism section of About.com. However, since About.com has removed it from their servers, all rights revert to me.]

Amitabha Buddha is one of the most prominent “celestial” Buddhas of Mahayana. In China and Japan he is the principal Buddha of the Pure Land school and one of the most commonly represented figures in Buddhist iconography. He is also a popular object of devotion in Vajrayana Buddhism.

The name Amitabha is a compound of the Sanskrit words amita (infinite or boundless) and abha (“light”). Amitabha is the Buddha of Boundless Light.

According to tradition, many ages ago Amitabha was a great king who renounced his throne to become a monk named Dharmakara. Dharmakara vowed to become a buddha and maintain a paradise in which enlightenment was easily realized. He took 48 bodhisattva vows, pledging to help all beings on the path to awakening. Continue reading →

Occasionally when Buddhist talk about the problem of attachment, someone will raise a hand and say, “Is it bad to be attached to Buddhism?” Yes, it is unskillful, in fact.

Then, often, the next comment is, “Well, then, I’ll stay away from dharma centers and not get attached!” Um, “staying away” also is attachment, sorry.

Reviewing “attachment” — It’s understood in Buddhism that in order for there to be attachment, you need two things — someone to attach and an object to attach to.

When a thing becomes something you have to have, or something essential to your self-identity — whether it’s religion or political opinions or avoiding authority figures or having to have a chocolate chip cookie right now — this is attachment.

In short, attachment is you relating to an object in a needy way. And this is a problem because it reinforces the sense of “I,” or the ego. which the Buddha said is the primordial ignorance that leads us to suffering (see Four Noble Truths).  Continue reading →

Anyone trying to make sense of contemporary western Buddhism would do well to read The Making of Buddhist Modernism by David McMahan (Oxford University Press, 2008). McMahan, associate professor of Religious Studies at Franklin & Marshall College in Pennsylvania, provides a clear and readable story about how “modern” Buddhism came to be the way it is.

I very much appreciate that McMahan has tossed out the common conceit that “modernity” is exclusively the creation of the West, and that Buddhism will be “modernized” by making it more palatable to cultural westerners.

McMahan illustrates that in Buddhism, traditionalism/modernism, and Asian/Western, do not neatly fit into simple dichotomies or fall along a clearly defined continuum. There are several “modernisms” emerging in Buddhism, he says. And while this is a global phenomenon, Asian teachers have been the principal “modernizers.”

Continue reading →

There are few things I enjoy more than an engrossing book, and I want to thank Scott Carney for writing this one. A Death on Diamond Mountain: A True Story of Obsession, Madness and the Path to Enlightenment kept me thoroughly engaged from beginning to end.

Carney has written an in-depth account of the 2012 death of Ian Thorson after he and his wife, Christie McNally, were expelled from an ostensibly Buddhist retreat.

Carney provides background on Thorson and McNally and also on Michael Roach, a former Gelugpa monk and their spiritual leader. (Mr. Roach does not consider himself to be a “former” monk, but he can no longer claim a tie to Galugpa. More on that in a bit.)

Michael Roach is the primary subject of A Death on Diamond Mountain, and the picture that emerges of his spiritual journey and teachings is a disturbing one. Scott Carney’s account shows Roach falling into every known pothole on the spiritual path and eventually plunging down a rabbit hole into a steaming pile of New Age, um, mush, taking McNally and Thorson and a lot of other people with him. Continue reading →