Bright Earth: A Pure Land Eco Dharma

Thank you.

So we're just going to start with a couple of minutes of practice before we do anything else. So this is an invitation to find a space and settle in. Close your eyes if that feels comfortable. And I want to invite you to notice where your body meets the earth. How are you being physically supported? Might be a cushion, might be the floor. Noticing how your weight is met. By a force that supports it. And now I invite you to notice the solidity of your own body, perhaps becoming aware of muscles, bones, Maybe noticing some places that are tight and strong, other places that are more at ease. How is it in your body in this moment? Bringing an attitude of loving kindness to whatever you're noticing, if possible. And taking a moment to contemplate that the solidity of my body is the same as the solidity of the earth. We're more or less made of the same stuff. And then when you're ready, opening your eyes, connecting with the room that you're in, connecting with the computer screen again. So welcome, my name is Caspar, this is Satya Robyn. We run Bright Earth Temple in Malvern. I know everybody on the Zoom calls knows that, but it's worth saying it for the recording. That practice of noticing how our bodies are similar to the earth is one of the very first practices that the Buddha gave people in early Buddhism when they were beginning, when they were beginning the Buddhist path. He'd invite them to notice the solidity and also the fiery places and how they were similar to fiery places in the world and the wet places in the body and the wet places in the world and so on. Really developing this deep felt sense, this deep awareness of how what we are is the same as what the world is. And now technically we know there's more than the 4 or 5 elements that, that model used, uh, when we think scientifically. But even thinking scientifically We're mostly made up of the same stuff that the world is made up of. So right from the beginning, the very earliest Buddhist days, we can see this deep connection between practice and the earth. I've just started reading Charles Fisher's book, Meditation in the Wild, with this lovely photoshopped cover. I don't think there was a real tiger and a real monk stepping into the forest. And he's tracing the history of that Buddhist connection with the earth, and particularly examining stories of monks and nuns that followed the Buddha's example and went into the forests. And there aren't so many of those recorded because most of the things that were written down by— written— were written down by monks and nuns that settled in monasteries. But every now and again you find a piece of evidence that there were these communities of monks and nuns that dispersed into the wild places and took their practice there. And it's a tradition that carries on, you know, you can look at some of the Zen priests in their mountains in China and Japan as well. Let me read you this verse. So this is from one of the very early disciples of the Buddha. It's from a Buddhist nun. There's no name attributed to it, but this is the verse. Though I be suffering and weak, and all my youthful spring be gone, Yet I have come leaning upon my staff and climb aloft the mountain peak, my cloak thrown off. There on the mountain where no crowd can come, never doubt that thou shalt surely win to the beyond. It's quite an old-fashioned translation, but I love that sense of being up on top of the mountain and just shedding what everything that you're wearing and letting the wind come and meet you and listening to the birdsong. And that this is the place, this nun is convinced that enlightenment will find you when you're on your own in this wild natural landscape. There's something about that that really appeals to me. Recently I've been meditating in the garden, and it isn't the same as being on top of a mountain and throwing all your clothes off Although I've not personally thrown all my clothes off on top of a mountain yet, but it does give me some sense of— you know, we say this in Buddhism sometimes, that the Dharma is discovered. The Buddha used this metaphor of finding a path in the jungle that was very overgrown, but the path existed. Pushing all the things out of the way and following the path, then you find a great city. His experience was that he discovered something that was already existing. And my experience as a practitioner is that some of the most profound experiences of learning come from my sitting in the natural world as much as they do from reading books and listening to talks and being with teachers. It's where some of the knots of my practice untangle. A couple of years ago, it seems like it was more recently, but I think we've had a year of lockdown, so it must have been a couple of years ago because I was away outside with another group, with a group of people I was on a training course and it was across 5 days, and the center of the course was a day on our own in the natural world with a few days building up to that, exploring the wild space around us. We were up on the edge of the Bowland Forest in Lancashire, and a few days afterwards to debrief. I went and sat by the side of a small river that was very full because it had been raining a lot, and there was a lot of— I think it must have been quite peaty because the color of the water was like Coca-Cola, and it was all frothy, and the ground was damp underneath me, and the sun moved across the sky and came out, and I where I was sitting was in the shadow, but I managed to sort of move around a bit and get a bit of sun on my face. And I sat there for most of the day. And for the first couple of hours, my mind was really busy trying to work out what is the lesson of this place. I've come here to this special place for one day. I must find something really special to take away. And this kind of calculating, well, the river's big and wide, is that a metaphor? Or there's a rock over there, is there something significant about that? Really trying to think through what the significance of this place was. Eventually that all settled and quietened, and I moved into a chanting practice. I was chanting the Tai Chi Chi, mantra. And after a while of chanting, sitting by the river, I had a very strong felt sense of Taishi Chi being present with me, this bodhisattva of courage. I can't really explain that experience in a modern language or a modern context. It was, I guess you could say, it was a little bit like a waking dream, but there was a really strong sense of something compassionate and wise and full of courage other than my, you know, that I didn't create, that my own processes hadn't given rise to. And as I sat with that, a very deep sense of not needing myself to be any different. I'd taken all these questions into this space about what I needed to change in my life, or how I needed to grow in this way or in that way, or change the work that I was doing. And in that calculating period that I talked about, I was trying to imagine myself as this whole river going down to the sea, and what did I need to do to become a big strong river? And as I was sitting there feeling this blessing, or grace I suppose to use religious language, of Tai Chi Chi, I had a sense of a single water droplet coming down the side of the hill behind me. And into the river. So, oh, I could just be a small droplet. I don't need to be the whole river. Such a sense of relief in that experience. So I'm just sharing that as an experience of how profound it can be to be practicing outside in the natural world. These lessons are given to us almost as if the Buddha is standing there giving us a teaching. And throughout history, there's this pattern of Buddhist monks and nuns and lay people around the edges of, you know, there's a pattern of deepening civilization, if you like. The monasteries get bigger and the farms go around them. But around the edge of that, there are always people going out into the wilderness to receive these teachings and to be held in those spaces. And the, the flip side of that is that not only do they receive something deeply profound for their spiritual practice, but they also live a life that is light, light on resources, light on damaging the earth. There's descriptions of some monks who even give up their robes and create clothes out of the bark from trees, and they're living on food that they're finding. They've taken vows not to kill anything, and it's a kind of return to not a hunter-gatherer lifestyle, but a gatherer lifestyle. When the Buddha was living, it was that they'd just been farming for a couple of generations. So the sense of the community and the culture was moving more in that direction. And yet, for a few individuals, the right thing to do was resist that and go into these wild spaces and live off what they found in the land without harming anything. It's a very ecologically friendly way of being. Not that I'm suggesting we should all leave our houses and do that, but there's something of that spirit, I think, that we can incorporate. So this talk was framed as how we chose the name of Bright Earth, and I guess what I'm saying is that for me, my practice has been moving more and more in that direction over the last few years, at least in my heart and in my mind, if not always in practice. That's the direction that I'm setting for myself. And in this time of the climate crisis and the extinction emergency, when the Earth suddenly seems fragile and at risk in a way that hasn't been true before, because it's the result of the impact of human activity. This kind of deep connection and intimate relationship with the wild, with the natural world, seems more and more important than ever before. So I'll pause there. Thank you for your ears. I'll hand over to Satya.

Namamitabhu.

Namamitabhu.

So I thought before I started talking, we could invoke the spirit of the Buddha, the bright part of our new temple name, and I'll do a little bit of chanting. If you are in a place where you can join in, please do. We'll need to keep you muted, I'm afraid, but if If you can't join in, then you can just listen and chant away in your head. And we'll do the chant Amitabha, because as Pure Land Buddhists, we're in relationship with Amitabha Buddha above others. Nam-myoho-renge-kyo.

Do you want any bells or anything?

Let's have a couple of bells.

Amitabha. Amitabha. Amitabha. Amitabh. Amitabh. Amitabh. Amitabha. Amitabha. Amitabha. Amitabha. Amitabha. Amitabha. Amitabh. Amitabh. Amitabh. Amitabh.

So Kasipa spoke about a deepening relationship with the earth as being able to help us to find the Buddha, one of the things you spoke about. With a theme of our limitations. We didn't really talk much about what we were going to say tonight, partly because we didn't know what we were going to say, but it's all fitting very nicely so far in my head. I wanted to start with a short prayer that we wrote that we've been using for our practice to take us into the second part of that relationship. And the prayer is: Blessed by Amitābha's light, may I care for all living things and the holy earth. So the idea is that in receiving the things that Caspar spoke about, as a natural consequence, we want to be kinder towards animals, people, plants, habitats, the space around us. I've got a little quote here from a book that I've been asked to read by Nagapriya, who's a tree practitioner Buddhist. He's written this book about Shinran, one of the founders of Pure Land Buddhism. The medium of Amitābha's grace is his infinite light, which exerts a transforming impact on those blessed by its all-pervading rays, which is everyone. Through Amitābha's blessings, beings not only feel overjoyed but also begin to act ethically. So I really like that, that the acting ethically is not something that we use our self-will for, but it's a natural consequence of being bathed in the love of Amitābha. I also wanted to say something about guilt. I've been speaking to a few people over the past few days about what we can do in the world in this present time, as Caspar said, things spiraling out of control at an ever terrifying pace. Certainly one of the consequences for me of coming into closer contact with the Earth and the science was that I felt a lot of grief, I felt a lot of shock and fear, but mostly grief about the things that are happening, that have been happening for a long time, but that are spiraling. There's another word, I can't think of it, but you know what I mean. And I think that it's natural that faced with these kinds of realities, we really connect with our inadequacies. We really connect with— well, I'll speak for myself. I really connect with my inadequacies, with my lack of energy, my need for rest or other activities that are kind of compulsive and that give me a break from things like, you know, watching TV or getting stuck on the internet or eating too much sugar. I feel guilty about not making the right choices all the time, like when I really just want an easy meal and I buy something that's got loads of plastic on it rather than making it from scratch, which would mean I didn't need to use any plastic. And these are little minor examples, but I think you might— hopefully you'll know what I mean— is that, that when we enter into relationship with the Earth and her suffering, guilt naturally arises. So for me, there's something really consoling about Pure Land Buddhism because it begins from this place. It begins from the place of acknowledging our limitations, of acknowledging how driven we are by our greed and our hate and our delusion, and that if we think that we're going to save the world, then we're going to be very disappointed. And, and that also, that, that I guess that, that we're acting from a place of delusion, that there's something about our actions that, that will be driven by fear or driven by that kind of driven energy rather than something that's a natural unfolding. My example from my own life in terms of how I've begun to work out what activism means for me, because it's very recent that I've come into contact with activism as a thing. I've known about it, of course, but I've never really understood why it's necessary or seen the power of it. And I'm a part of Extinction Rebellion, and there are many, many, many things happening all the time that I could be a part of. There's a very strong group in, in Malvern which is doing amazing work in all kinds of different areas with Worcestershire County Council, with flooding, with saving a river, with all sorts of things. And we're also part of a Buddhist Extinction Rebellion, so there's a national network of people who are also engaged in all sorts of different activities. So there are many, many things that would be good to do, and when I'm feeling desperate about this, the state of the planet, it's quite difficult sometimes to, to be in contact with that. And the result is that sometimes it just pushes me into kind of despair or a hopelessness where actually it's easier to do nothing. It's— there's no point because there's too much and it's too big. So I've been involved in various kind of vigils for the past year or two. We did a multi-faith vigil in London. That was the first one with my— some of my colleagues from different faiths. And then Malvin did a vigil while we were at the last rebellion. And I can't remember how it started, but an idea sort of became implanted in me last September, October, which was that I could I could vow to offer a personal vigil to the Earth, and that that might be something that would be one of those natural reflections of Amitābha's light. And I can remember feeling a bit annoyed about this idea because I'm already a busy person, and I'm terribly prone to fill my diary and say yes to things, and there's so many good things to do, and I'm always seeking, seeking space so I was a bit annoyed about this idea, and several times I dismissed it because of the scope of it, but it was insistent. It kept just kind of nickling away, and the idea was that I would sit outside with my sign on that says what I'm doing for an hour a day for a year running up to COP26, which I'm sure you all know is happening in Glasgow in November this year. Fingers crossed. And I spoke to a couple of people and they were pretty discouraging, apart from one friend who is quite radical and they thought it was a good idea. So yeah, so I did it. I started it in November last year and I'm on day 119 or something, I can't remember today, and it's actually been a really wonderful experience. It's inserted an hour of space into my day every day. I haven't been an arduous— I haven't been a very— meditation hasn't been the thing that I am drawn to. I much prefer Nembutsu chanting, so it's given me a bit of practice at meditation practice. And more than anything, it's brought me into much closer contact with the earth because I'm there in it for an hour every day with the wind, the cold wind brushing my cheeks, or the rain pattering down on my waterproof hood, or the sun that comes out and warms me. And there have been a few mornings when I haven't felt great, or I've been grumpy, or the weather's been really bitter, that I haven't wanted to do it, and it's been a bit of a challenge, but overall it's been a joy. So for me, when we really connect with the Buddha's light, what this light shows us is what our offering should be, and that's really different for different people, and that's really different depending on what phase of life we're in. It's really different depending on our capacity in terms of how much else is going on in our head, and I think it's often our headspace that limits us rather than our physical or mental or financial space. I think those things can all be worked around. And for some people— I was talking to a friend the other day who has had periods of depression, and they were saying that they weren't able to do anything because they were, you know, healing themselves or managing what was happening inside. And I said that that was their work, that their work was that internal healing. And that that will also radiate out and have a beneficial effect on the planet. So my hope from this name Bright Earth and this little prayer that we say is that it will remind me to keep things simple. It will remind me that I don't have to be everything. I just have to be one little water droplet. Oh, Ralph, what happened there?

Just a noise.

There was a noise in the house, very disturbing. He's back on his back again now. I just have to be one little water droplet because there are lots of other people who are also little water droplets, and, um, and that what will guide me and sustain me in that is the Earth's energy, the Earth's wisdom, the Earth's love, and Amitabha's love. And, um, I was just thinking, are they different? And that's a longer question to answer, but they have a similar quality for me, at least, that, that, um, that maybe it's Amitabha's love that reflects off the Earth, or maybe it's the Earth's love that also travels through Amitābha. They're all connected in, but it's all about this relationship between us and the Buddha, between us and the earth, between the Buddha and the earth. And that when we feel lost or guilty or despairing, we can just remember that our only job is to reflect to reflect the light of Amitābha, which is always there, whether we're noticing it or not. And that's it. So I'm enjoying the feeling of Amitābha.

Around me.

I'm also really enjoying these dogs being fast asleep because it's very rare, as Paul will be able to say, there's usually not much more liveliness in the morning when we do Buddhist practice. Maybe it's something about our voices. Hopefully we're not having quite the same effect on you.

Calming but not soporific, that's my intent.

So I think that's probably all I want to say. Do you want to say anything else?

I might do, let me check. The Buddha who lived and died in India 2,500 years ago— well, we don't know if that's true, there's not much historical evidence. Somebody certainly started the tradition, but he told stories of other Buddhas, other awakened beings stretching back through time, not just human beings who lived and walked on the earth, but this sense of cosmic Buddhas who didn't take on a physical form but somehow appeared to him and gave teachings, or at least inspired him with their own love and wisdom. At the start of the Large Pure Land Sutra, it describes the Buddha sitting and glowing effectively. He's sort of in this state of bliss, and Ananda says, 'Oh, what's going on? You look really radiant today. Are you in touch with all of these other Buddhas through these other worlds?' And the Buddha says, "What a good question, Ananda. You're right, I am in touch with them, and I'm particularly in touch with Amitābha Buddha." And then he goes on to describe Amitābha Buddha and Amitābha's qualities. And I suppose I'm saying that to just indicate that there is this quality that's often missed a bit in Western Buddhism of something beyond our human bodies that speaks to us. For the Buddha, it spoke to him, or it met him with the face of Amitābha Buddha. But human beings throughout history have had a deeply intuitive felt sense of being received by something and loved by something that accepts them just as they are. This felt experience is at the heart of the mystical traditions of all religions. So when we're talking about Amitābha's light, this is the experience that we're talking about, the experience that inspired the Buddha when Ananda asked him that question, to give a teaching that described this state of grace that he was in. He was putting words to this blissful experience that he had. And the language of Buddhism, some of the language of Buddhism, is an attempt to do the same, to put words to something that is very hard to put words to. Sorry about that.

You just missed the bit of Caspar's talk that would have enlightened everyone, you know, just in an instant.

In the last second, yeah. Our internet connection is unstable, it says.

Yeah, I'll just start recording it again.

It is recording.

Oh good. Do you want to repeat that last bit, just in case?

Oh goodness me, I don't know what I was talking about.

It was very good anyway.

Yeah, I was just saying that experience that the Buddha had of being met by something outside of him that accepted him and loved him just as he was in that moment that he described as being held by Mettāpa is the same experience that people in doing spiritual practice throughout the ages have had, and that sometimes we find it in temples and in religious settings, and equally, or perhaps more so, we find it in the wild spaces of the earth.

Namaste.

Namaste. Well done. So we are open for any questions that anyone might have. About anything we've said, but no pressure, no pressure.

Yeah, I'd like to ask something, um, I suppose it was just something that came to mind. It was about Jack Kornfield, you know, I think he's quite famous, isn't he, as a practitioner and like and someone said to— I think he was against the Vietnam War or he was, you know, he wanted to do something about that, but what he did was he retreated into the forests, you know, with the monks and someone said to him, you know, "Why don't you go out and help?" You know, and he said, "The most powerful thing I can do is to change myself." You know, at that time. And I kind of cling to that, but there's a sense in which that I know that I'm scared, or I have this idea that, you know, I haven't got it in me to go out and change things. So I'm setting these limitations on myself. And I suppose, you know, I can take comfort in the fact that, yeah, you know, sitting in meditation and working on myself is what I can do. But I'm equally aware that I could probably do much more, but I don't, you know. So I suppose it's not a question, it's just something that came up for me, you know.

Yeah, I've also got something.

Yeah, yeah, thank you, Paul. And I think it kind of ties in with what I was saying about guilt, because I think that everyone I've ever met who knows what's happening in the world feels a lot of it and, and knows that there are lots and lots of things they could be doing that they're not doing. For me, there's something really helpful about acknowledging the different parts of you and, and the, the experience that those bits of you have. So, so meet the fear, get to know it. What's it worried about? Um, welcome it in. Um, there's also something for me about, um, lowering your expectations for what's possible. So don't dismiss the very small things you do. The choices that you make in the supermarket between a more ethical and a less ethical brand of toothpaste will feed in. That all goes in the pot. And the third thing I'd say is just keep listening to the Buddha, because the Buddha will know what's right for you, and that will include your family. Fear, that will include those bits of you that have that experience. So for me, my path is taking a certain, a certain sort of trajectory in terms of my activism. And that's, that's because that's right for me, that's right for who I happen to be. But there are also people who do all kinds of other things that are maybe much less public or don't get so much, so many likes on Facebook. But are equally valuable. You know, making the art, or being in boring contact with your MP, or having a conversation with a colleague. All of those things go in the pot. So, and the final thing that helped me was having conversations with people who were also concerned about these things, and hearing other people say exactly what I felt. Helped me to feel less alone. So there's a few offerings that may or may not help.

Um, earlier today I found, or a friend of mine found, the quote for me from Shantideva, who talks about, um, the uselessness of trying to cover the world in leather, but you can cover your feet in leather, and then It's really a— it's a strong aspect of Buddhist tradition that the most important thing is to do that work on yourself, but for me it's only half of the story, and there's a dance between this phase of the practice where I'm sitting on my cushion looking inward examining my own experience, and then going out into the world making offerings, and they both feed each other. I find, you know, in my— in the way that I— in the imperfect way that I behave in the world, that gives me— it shows me where my edge is, it shows me where my ego is, it shows me where my attachments are. I bring those back into the practice on the cushion, and I go back out into the world again. And sometimes that's a rhythm that can happen in the same day, and sometimes we need to go into the forest for a long time before we come out and make our offering. You know, the, um, the 10 oxen, ox herding pictures of Zen show that cycle of, um, taking the first steps, practicing ego dissolving, and then the step after the ego dissolves is to come back into the marketplace and make the offering. And you can see that as something that happens across a lifetime, but for me also happens in very short periods of time— taking refuge, receiving the light of the Buddha, putting my attention in the world, doing something.

Yeah, and having said all that, you know, our friend Shen Yen, his offering is practice. So he does practice and that's what he does and I find his presence in the world extremely valuable. So you might just be one of those people, but that's between you and the Buddha to find out.

Sometimes the most helpful thing is to do nothing at all.

That's helpful, thank you.

Yeah, thank you for sharing. Anyone else that's got anything? I'd like to ask about anything we've said, or anything we haven't said.

Anything we haven't said.

That's been really Lovely to hang out with you all this evening. Thank you so much for offering some of your Saturday evening, and you're very welcome to join us at our practice sessions if you don't already know about them. All of, all of that is on the website. We're hoping to be up in the shrine room again before too long, just as we get the dogs trained to be good. And yeah, also hope to see some of you all all, if not all of you, in real life, maybe sometime this year, fingers crossed. So namo mi tabu, thank you so much for coming.

Namahoi taba, thank you.

Yeah, see you all again, I'm sure.

Take care. Take care.

Thanks everybody.

Yeah, bye-bye.