refuge as Buddhist "higher power"?

During our last class, Alan mentioned the use of refuge in fighting alcohol addiction.  I wasn't sure if he directly connected this to the issue of AA "higher power" language, but I personally found the idea interesting and thought-provoking.  Refuge itself is a little flexible in its interpretation.  Thanissaro Bhikkhu even mentions that each of the refuges have two different senses.  On the one hand, refuge in the Buddha can be be dirrectly in the Shakyamuni figure himself, but on the other hand - and Thanissaro would say more ideally - you take refuge in Buddha in terms of awakening, your own potential for awakening.  THis is like really calling upon your highest self.  SO in some ways, it is like seeking external power to help, but in another sense its coming from inside. 

Them there is also the use of the Dhamma - and the Sangha.  Both of these have some external equivalence of power to help us, almost no matter how you interpret them.

I think just the fact that refuge is so integral to Buddhism, and rather flexible in its moment-to-moment interpretation helps keep it open to a variety of people using it in the way that they themselves find useful.  At the same time, I wonder which ways of interpreting and using refuge are more effective for alcoholics themselves.

Mindfulness, PTSD, and the Military: ethical questions and quandries

I was happy to learn of the increased efforts of the military to work with PTSD and its related increasing work with mindfulness.  I am happy for the soldiers that this is showing positive results, both prior to and after the stressful conditions of combat.



Watching the movie "Wartorn" presented such a stark and bleak look at the effects of combat, combat training, witnessing the all around effects of war.  In some ways, it was hopeful in the sense that there is far more awareness nowadays of the effects, yet the trauma experienced by so many individuals puts such a strain on them and their families.


So on the one hand, I am hopeful that increased mindfulness training can help.  Yet, at the same time I am a little weary of the potential manipulation of such a technique for the military's benefit.

Over a decade ago, one American ordained in the Japanese Zen tradition wrote a couple books that through the Japanese Zen schools in particular, and all Japanese Buddhist schools into a tizzy: Zen at War and Zen War Stories.  The books documented Japan's use and abuse of Buddhism during the Pacific War period and its imperial expansion.

The Japanese soldiers at the time underwent Zen training, but numerous issues arise.  There is evidence that some soldiers experienced a stronger dissociation with life. Eventually one Japanese general lamented in 1943, “there are none calling themselves Japanese soldiers who are attached to life.  On the contrary, they all want to die…. Thus, the problem is not death, but how to accomplish our mission.  What I am racking my brains about is not teaching my soldiers how to die laughing or die with peace of mind, but rather how to get them to stay alive even one more day fighting to the last.” (Zen at War, 215)

In other cases, evidence shows that meditation helped individuals commit a murder. Onumo Sho, troubled with serious anxiety over an assassination he was about to commit, decided to do zazen:

After starting my practice of zazen I entered a state of Samadhi the likes of which I had never experienced before.  I felt my spirit become unified, really unified, and when I opened my eyes from their half-closed meditative position I noticed the smoke from the incense curling up and touching the ceiling.  At this point it suddenly came to me – I would be able to carry out [the assassination] that night.” (Zen at War, 214)

In his court testimony later, he said, “I was primarily guided by Buddhist thought in what I did.  That is to say, I believe the teachings of Mahayana Buddhism as they presently exist in Japan are wonderful.” (Zen at War, 215)

Then there is the case of Yasutani Haku'un, a Zen monk whose fervent nationalism led him to be one of many monks involved with the training of the Japanese military.

Yasutani also provides one of the more clear and detailed answers as to why he thinks Buddhists can kill, despite the fact that the first precept instructs otherwise:

"What should the attitude of disciples of the Buddha, as Mahayana bodhisattvas, be toward the first precept that forbids the taking of life?  For example, what should be done in the case in which, in order to remove various evil influences and benefit society, it becomes necessary to deprive birds, insects, fish, etc. of their lives, or, on a larger scale, to sentence extremely evil and brutal persons to death, or for the nation to engage in total war?  Those who understand the spirit of the Mahayana precepts should be able to answer this question immediately.  That is to say, of course one should kill, killing as many as possible.  One should, fighting hard, kill everyone in the enemy army.  The reason for this is that in order to carry [Buddhist] compassion and filial obedience through to perfection, it is necessary to assist good and punish evil.  However, in killing [the enemy] one should swallow one’s tears, bearing in mind the truth of killing yet not killing.  Failing to kill an evil man who ought to be killed, or destroyed, would be to betray compassion and filial obedience, to break the precept forbidding the taking of life.  This is a special characteristic of the Mahayana precepts" (Zen War Stories, 69).

 

(Yasutani with his student, Philip Kapleau, author of The Three Pillars of Zen)

In this quote, Yasutani presents many ideas which lead to justification of war: a dualistic concept of good and evil, coupled with belief in Japan’s purity and the compassion to spread it.  According to Yasutani’s reasoning, not only does the precept allow for killing others, but it requires “killing as many as possible” in order to keep the precept.  

It is a far cry to move from PTSD related mindfulness training to the issues experienced by Japanese Buddhist military training of the Pacific War, yet in some ways it seems so easy to move down a slippery slope once some success is established.  If our military finds mindfulness training leads to more effective willingness to shoot at their targets, what will happen?  How will these teachings be used? 

I am not saying this kind of slippery slope will happen, and I think its great if meditation can help suffering soldiers, yet I also have some serious concerns about where this could lead.  So I am simply unsure how I feel about it.

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movies with alcoholism themes

[spoiler alert: I give away endings in these summaries]

The Lost Weekend

This movie was not just a nice glimpse into the binge of an alcoholic, but a great portrayal of attitudes towards alcohol and alcoholism in the 1940s - as well as a nice portrait of life in 1940s New York.
The movie focused around the life of one writer's severe struggles with alcoholism and the romance that helps him find a way out.  Apparently the realism of the film was quite controversial for its time.  But the acting was quite good and the portrayal of one man's history of alcoholism, his methods of doing anything to get a drink despite his brother's and girlfriend's efforts to keep him away, and what happens when he starts on a binge are all quite well done.  Two parts of the film I felt were a little strange were the captive scene and the end.  In one scene, the protagonist, Don Burnam, falls down a staircase.  While unconscious, he is taken to a ward and wakes up in a room lined with beds of other individuals with alcohol problems.  They make a big deal out of the hallucination issues in that scene and one that follows.  I admit I am not an expert on alcoholism, but I thought this aspect seemed a little overplayed.  It felt as though symptoms of different issues were conflated here.  Also, the end of the movie came extremely quick after such a long, drawn-out portrayal of the problem.  Don is struggling so much with his alcoholism, he considers suicide. But his girlfriend stops him, and convinces him to pursue his life as a writer.  The change comes rather suddenly, he promises to stop, the movie suddenly ends.  I was left wondering if the director was implying that the problem was solved in that moment.  I had a hard time being convinced myself.  But, overall, the movie potrayed Don's struggles very vividly and well.  I'm sure the movie provided much social benefit for the time it was produced in raising attention to alcoholism issues.


Under the Volcano

This 1984 film was based on an earlier novel of the same title.  It is similar to the first movie in that it follows a very short time frame.  However, whereas The Lost Weekend storyline occurs over the course of a few days, Under the Volcano traces the events of the final day-and-a-half in the life of an alcoholic.  The movie takes place in Mexico around time of WWII, and the protagonist, Geoffrey Firmin is living there as a British diplomat.  His wife left him a while ago.  He becomes heavily drunk when he finally opens up a divorce request from her.  However, the letter is rather outdated, and she arrives the next morning after extended travel to try and get back together.  Its later revealed that he never opened up most of her letters.  However, the effort ends up being too late as Geoffrey winds up drunk in some saloon/brothel, and angers a customer that thinks Geoffrey is about to steal his horse.  He is shot to death at the end of the film, but not before a drawn-out portrayal of going through a day largely in a drunken stupor.  His wife and half-brother, Hugh, have to help him undress to shower, help him shave, and do other daily chores.  Geoffrey goes in and out of different degrees of drunkenness throughout the day as he finds his way towards more alcohol.  He goes on a carnival ride, where children are shown picking up all the belongings he drops in the process. 
I was surprised at ultimately how little effort his family made in trying to calm his drinking habits in the film.  They made some little comments every so often about putting a drink down or not drinking so much.  But he ignored them and they never persisted.  In the evening, Hugh joins him in drinking a bit.  They seem to recognize Geoffrey's drinking problem yet don't take it very seriously.  They seem to just accept that as part of who he is ... which is interesting in itself.  In this sense, the movie gives a very different depiction than The Lost Weekend.



Flight

I thought this was a wonderful movie and fit perfectly into this class.  The movie had a provocative storyline built around the issue of alcoholism.  The captain of a plane does a daring maneuver to save the plane from crashing.  6 people die, but they say that most other pilots would not have been able to spare anyone's life.  However, blood tests in the hospital reveal that the pilot, Whip Whitaker, was drunk at the time, leading to a legal issue that continues throughout the movie.  In that process, we see how much of an alcoholic he really is.  You see a couple times he starts to give up his drinking habits, but then he has one drink and can't stop.  The girlfriend he picks up along the way starts attending AA meetings and tries to bring him along. He goes to one, but leaves and doesn't want to come back.  His habits continue and the movie slowly shows how many of his family and friends he has lost due to drinking.  At the very end, Whip has the opportunity to get off clean during his trial - but suddenly confesses to being an alcoholic who is drunk there and continuously drinking. He is sentanced to prison - but turns his life around there, helping other alcoholics in prison and reconnecting with his friends and family after a year of sobriety.
It is a touching story showing both the effects of alcoholism, the struggles therein, and the point at which a person turns around. The inclusion of AA meetings in the movie and the textured look at his various relationships helps provides a nice glimpse into Whip's life and how much the alcohol consumes him. But it also shows an inspiring story of change.

Book Review of Chonyi Taylor’s "Enough! A Buddhist Approach to Finding Release From Addictive Patterns"

And what is the result of stress? There are some cases in which a person overcome with pain, his mind exhausted, grieves, mourns, laments, beats his breast, and exhausted, comes to search outside, ‘Who knows a way or two to stop this pain?’ I tell you, monks, that stress results either in bewilderment or in search.  (AN 6:63)

            This quote from the Anguttara Nikaya exemplifies the Buddha’s description of how people deal with stress in their lives.  This stress comes from craving, which according to Buddhism, essentially acts as an addiction.  The two paths of bewilderment and search in the quote are thus very reminiscent of the two sides of [the alcoholism chart]. Buddhism, in so many of its facets, is designed to help in recovering from addictions.  Making the link to addiction recovery and Buddhism is not new, and many books have addressed this issue.  One particularly interesting account comes from Chonyi Taylor’s Enough!: A Buddhist Approach to Finding Release from Addictive Patterns.  As a long-time practitioner ordained as a nun by the Dalai Lama who also worked professionally as a counselor for those dealing with serious addiction issues, Taylor draws on plenty of direct experience from both sides of this combination.  This paper will summarize the main themes, strengths and weaknesses of the book, before addressing the elements that I personally could use and adapt in future chaplaincy experiences.

            Taylor defines addiction early on in the volume as “a mental habit in which there appears to be no conscious control, which gives short-term pleasure and long-term harm, and in which our own needs override the needs of others” (9).  I think this is a strong definition which includes three main elements.  The first part regarding a habit and the apparent lack of control is fairly common when defining addiction.  Next comes a qualifier about the primacy of short-term pleasures.  I think this part helps provide an interesting link to where she can focus much of the discussion on Buddhism.  The last part of the definition focuses on the narrowing view towards selfish desires and the ignorance that develops towards others.  Although Taylor does not directly mention it, these two qualifiers on her definition direct much of the upcoming discussion in her book through their equivalence by their association with a common two-pronged Mahayana theme of wisdom and compassion. 

            The book itself gives a well-rounded look at the causes of addiction, and how various elements of Buddhist philosophy and practice can help free a person from such patterns.  Most of the first half of the book focuses more on the nature of addictions.  Along the way, it starts by introducing some basic meditation instruction, and then progressively more detailed exercises.  Although, such exercises deal with efforts for change in specific ways, the discussion of response and recovery becomes more dominant at chapter six and beyond. 

            The particular view of Buddhism presented in this book is highly influenced by the author’s predominantly Vajrayana background.  It was interesting to read this book while also taking a class on Buddhist tantra this semester.  I read material in that class by Lama Yeshe who is often quoted in this book.  Another of Lama Yeshe’s students, Rob Preece, author of The Psychology of Buddhist Tantra, seemed to have heavy correspondence to Taylor’s book as well.  Tantra seems to place a heavy emphasis on well-defined motivations at the beginning of meditation practice, use of visualization, and developing keen awareness of the effects of defilements so as to overcome them.  All of these elements were displayed in Chonyi Taylor’s book.  I also saw elements of tantra in the descriptions of light visualization in the body, including the nine-breath visualization pattern that acts as a common starting point in many Tibetan meditations.

            Overall, I enjoyed many aspects of this book, yet it displayed some weaknesses as well.  I felt Taylor’s association between the mind and brain were a little too direct, almost presented as equivalents.  I don’t want to say I have proof the mind is something completely separate from the brain, but I am also skeptical of science that simply assumes they are the same thing.  For example, Taylor states that the “addictive habit has become buried in the primitive part of the brain” (45). This seems to be a narrow statement, since addiction can be patterned in neurons throughout the brain.  Moreover, cell membranes have showed many decision making aspects occur throughout the body and not just the brain.  Neuropeptides which help enforce addictive behaviors may be generated in the brain, but spread and carry out their effects throughout the entire body.[1]  I also felt the issue of pain was treated a little dangerously.  Although I appreciated most of the discussion on pain, when Taylor spoke of becoming more tolerant of pain (95), I did not feel she provided enough safeguards to make sure that readers would not misuse this advice.  Also, I think the perspective she gave of Buddhism was not properly identified.  Although I do not have issue with the perspective she comes from, that perspective is quite strictly from a Tibetan Vajrayana position.  She fails to clearly identify that perspective she holds, and unfamiliar readership could be confused at the differences between Buddhism in this book vs. some of the ideas presented from a vipassana-dominant perspective.

            Despite these rather nit-picky examples, however, there were many things I deeply appreciated about this book.  The overall tone was calm and hopeful, yet clear and pragmatic.  I could easily imagine the writing style to be attractive to somebody coping with a serious issue themselves, researching information for a loved-one in need, or to someone looking to enhance their skills as a caregiver.  I also personally really appreciated the chapter focused around King Songtsen Gampo’s “Sixteen Guidelines for Life.”  Anyone who has been around Buddhism for a while or read their fair share of sutras and commentaries knows that Buddhism is filled to the brim with various lists.  I’ve seen many, but this was the first time I saw the “Sixteen Guidelines.”  The four areas and the items in each area provide a really well-rounded view of personal practice and excellent daily reminders of things to work on.[2]  Besides these features, I thought Taylor’s book provided abundant examples from to assist a chaplain in working with patients dealing with addiction issues.

            The resources for helping people deal with addictions fall into the categories of Buddhist philosophy and in the various meditation exercises. Taylor suggests turning around the same aspects of our mind that helps create addiction in the first place.  She says three important emphases are strong motivation, repetition, and reward.  To help create new habits, she suggests familiarizing ourselves with new habits.  She asserts that a real key is to “catch ourselves at the moment just before we fall into the ineffective pattern” (62). I feel there are some ways that Taylor phrased or brought up issues that would help me better deal with a client. For example, on page 58 - just asserting that feeling good is not a problem, but hanging onto that feeling is a problem.  That equates to craving.  All things, however, are impermanent and that clinging will eventually lead to suffering – These types of ideas help provide a starting point I could see to explore issues with a patient, where I would otherwise not know how to enter into an issue. Another example occurs on pages 106-110, where the author lists 3 different versions to one story based on the different types of communication that occur.  The way she outlines this can be a helpful dialog or role play to guide a patient through.

            The most helpful part of the book for me was the variety of meditation practices.  I liked the basic outline in which she described the theoretical parts of the meditation and then went through step-by-step with what to do for each practice. Although I would have issues with some specific points of wording in certain places, and I would edit some of the meditations to my own comfort level, the meditations in this book provide an extremely solid template to follow when helping to guide a patient through mental exercises that can systematically work with overcoming various aspects of addictive behavior.  The meditations use a variety of different types of equanimity development,  locating and exploring the trigger points that set off an addictive behavior, various ways to deal with pain, and more.  I like that the meditations Taylor provides are very active for the mind in the sense that there is a constant activity for the mind to be doing.  I think this is helpful for people with very serious addictions whose minds might have trouble with simply extended periods of silence on a single object of focus.  Instead, this format can provide a directed and systematic examination.

            Chonyi Taylor’s book is from a very particular Buddhist tradition with practices inspired from her line of training, but they are easily applicable to people from almost any religious (or non-religious) background.  The book has a good overall structure with many helpful pointers that can provide a solid base platform from which to build a treatment plan for patients dealing with addiction issues.

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[1] See, for example, Candace Pert et al., “Neuropeptides and Their Receptors: A Psychosomatic Network,” Journal of Immunology 135, no. 2 (August 1985): 820–826; Candace Pert, “The Wisdom of Receptors: Neuropeptides, the Emotions, and Bodymind,” Advances 3, no. 3 (Summer 1986): 8–16; and Candace B. Pert, Molecules Of Emotion: The Science Behind Mind-Body Medicine (NY: Scribner, 2003).

[2] The sixteen guidelines are separated into four categories: how we think (humility, patience, contentment, and delight), how we can reconnect (kindness, honesty, gentleness, and right speech), how we can interact with compassionate wisdom (respect, forgiveness, gratitude, and loyalty), how to find meaning in our lives (principles, aspiration, service, and courage). 

an indigenous Equadorean Shaman's view on plants

After class I was reflecting on my conversation with this one shaman from the Andes who recently moved to California. He gave a lecture I attended one day, but then I continued to ask him some questions after it ended.  One plant he helped people work with was Ayuhuasca - a powerful hallucinogenic plant. This reminded me of Jacob's comment of playing with fire.  I heard numerous stories from people there and prior to this, that one day of working with this plant has completely cured illnesses that no Western-trained doctor could cure - however, this usually involved strings of powerful hallucinations, convulsing, and vomiting.  Not having a well-trained guide with someone might lead to only bad results.  Its not something that even well-trained people will try with too much regularity.  Only if used carefully and respectfully, can one really get the strong positive results. 

One other interesting comment he made - that maybe far fewer people would accept - was that there was some almost global relationship humanity had with plants.  He said that different plants all had special kinds of vibrations.  These vibrations were what helped put certain types of illnesses back in order with people - effectively retuning us back into the orchestra.  He said that a person could have an individual relationship with a plant type, but there was also a subtle linking of a species throughout the world.  He added that the way people use a plant effected this overall relationship effectiveness around the world.  Therefore, he said, people have ravaged the medicinal capability of a plant like marijuana.  Too many people use it without ceremony in plain recreational ways.  It passed a sort of global threshold to where a formerly essential medicinal herb was, according to him, no longer of much use. 
--- I've heard some different reasons for not taking drugs and alcohol.  But this one was rather unique: Don't use this recreationally, because you take away from other people's opportunity to use it as medicine when they need it. 

my oh my - with all the centuries-long beer drinking throughout the world, those poor hops! :P

reflection on different meditation paths and different books for addiction recovery

During class a week ago, the difference between the Visudhimagga and the meditation instruction from the Pali canon came up.  Although I think when you really compare them side by side, this becomes extremely apparent, this does not mean that I think either of them is necessarily a bad or unbeneficial practice. The descriptions of jhana, mindfulness, and concentration, do not line up at all in the paths.  There are many terms and practices mentioned in each path that are exclusive to that path of practice.  Also, whereas vipassana and samadhi are treated integrally related in the sutras, the Visuddhismagga treats them as different types of practices.  Of course, there are also plenty of cross-over points, and it is easy to see why they can be confused when not giving a thorough read.

In modern traditions, we can see the sutra path play out much more in the Thai forest tradition.  But for a long time in both Sri Lanka and Thailand, most monks only read the Visudhimagga path of practice and never even bothered reading most of the sutras.  Although Thailand transitioned to a more sutra based practice overall, Burma and Sri Lanka still more commonly use the Visuddhimagga. In popular Western movements, we still see this influence in the styles of the Mahasi tradition and Goenka's vipassana retreats.

There are obviously many people who have benefited from those retreats, and I think that's wonderful.  Different ways work for different people.  However, I think the sutras are actually far more flexible in the ways you can work with different approaches diepending upon the experience in the moment.  The visudhimagga presents a much more formalized step-by-step procedure of specific experiences you should have before moving on.   Although, I find that specificity limiting, some people find this specificity helpful and I respect that and with them well.

Likewise, I think some of the different books on Buddhism and addiction recovery present some very different paths.  You can see the training of various individuals really stand out in their writing and suggestions.  But I think this is actually a good thing.  All people are conditioned in different ways and addicted in different ways.  To use the old Buddhist analogy, we're not all at the same part of the shore, and thus, different types of boats can be more or less useful to help get across.  Its good to have some variety out there so m=people can see what really speaks to them - and what really helps them alleviate their own suffering.