Samhain: Buddhist practice

Good morning everybody, welcome to practice. My name is Casper. And this morning I've asked Satya Robyn to kick us off by reading a poem for Samhain by Annie Finch.

Samhain by Annie Finch. In the season leaves should love since it gives them leave to move towards the wind, towards the ground they were watching while they hung. Legend says there is a seam stitching darkness like a name. Now when dying grasses veil earth from the sky in one last pale wave, As autumn dies to bring winter back, and then the spring, we who die ourselves can peel back another kind of veil that hangs among us like thick smoke. Tonight at last I feel it shake. I feel the nights stretching away thousands long behind the days till they reach the darkness where all of me is ancestor. I move my hand and feel a touch move with me, and when I brush my own mind across another, I am with my mother's mother. Sure as footsteps in my waiting self, I find her, and she brings arms that carry answers for me. Intimate awaiting bounty. Carry me. She leaves this trail through a shudder of the veil and leaves like amber where she stays, a gift for her perpetual gaze. I know, don't you want to read it later?

So later I will talk about the lessons Buddhists can learn from Sueen, but now we move into a period of meditation. An invitation to find your center physically before we begin. Noticing, is your pelvis tilted forwards or backwards? Can you bring that into a more— into the middle way, into a more central feeling? An invitation to pay attention to the breath, noticing cooler air entering at the tip of the nose, warmer air leaving. And as the air comes in, you can imagine the light of the Buddha touching you. And as you breathe out, that light sinking in deep into your bones. So we'll chant the name of the Buddha of Infinite Light, Amitābha, in the form using the words Om Amitabha Hum.

Om Amitabha Hum. Om Amitabha Hum. Om Amitabha Hum.

Om Ami—

Omami Sabaho. Omami Sabaho. Omami Sabaho. Omami tabaho. Omami tabaho. Omami tabaho. Om Mani Sabahum. Om Mani Sabahum. Om Mani Sabahum. Om, Om, Satya Robyn. Om, Om, Amitabha. Om, Om, Amitabha. Omami tabahu. Omami tabahu. Omami tabahu. Oh, Mami. Oh, Mami. Saba Omami Saba Omami Saba Omami Saba ho. Om Mami Saba ho. Om Mami Saba ho. Om. Om Ami Sabah. Om Ami Sabah. Om Ami Sabah. Om Mani Sahaba. Om Mani Sahaba. Om Mani Sahaba. Omami tabaho. Omami tabaho. Omami taba. Omami tabahu. Omami tabahu. Omami tabahu. Oh, Mami Tabao. Oh, Mami Tabao.

Oh, Mami. I will now recite the refuges and precepts, which are on the liturgy sheet, but I ask you to repeat after me. For refuge I go to the Buddha. For refuge I go to the Buddha. The one who is awake and full of love. The one who is awake and full of love. Namo Buddhaya. Namo Buddhaya. For refuge I go to the Dharma. For refuge I go to the Dharma. All that guides us to wisdom and compassion. All that guides us to wisdom and compassion. Namo Dhammaya. For refuge I go to the Sangha. For refuge I go to the Sangha. Those who live in the Buddha's light. Those who live in the Buddha's light. Namo Sangha. Namo Sangha. With faith in the Three Jewels. With faith in the Three Jewels. And in light of my human tendencies. And in light of my human tendencies. I pray that I may become aware— —of when I take life. I pray that I may become aware— —of when I take what is not freely given. I pray that I may become aware— —of when I fall into sexual misconduct. I pray that I may become aware— —of when I fall into wrong speech. I pray that I may become aware— —of when I become intoxicated. No blame! Be kind! Love everything!

Innumerable are sentient beings.

We vow to save them all. Inexhaustible are deluded passions. We vow to transform them all. Immeasurable are the Dharma teachings. We vow to master them all.

Infinite is the Buddha's way.

We vow to follow it completely.

Namaste. So Samhain is the Celtic New Year and is celebrated as Halloween and falls on the eve of All Saints Day. And falls halfway between the autumn equinox, when the daylight and the dark are equally balanced, when the day and night are the same length, and between the winter solstice, when the day is the shortest and the night is the longest, so it's halfway between those two things. It's also traditionally a time of harvest festivals and a time of thinking about ancestors. So we're used to New Year being in the middle of winter, and we have all the fireworks. Or maybe even spring is when you sort of feel like the year is beginning, when everything is, uh, when, when everything's getting brighter and the flowers are coming in. Some people get a bit of a New Year feeling in September, I think, when schools go back, because we're so sort of conditioned to that way of being. But here is a— here is an ancient start to the year as autumn tips over into winter and we move into the darkest part of the year. And there's maybe something counterintuitive about that, but when you think of the story, like a lot of ancient myths, the he— and the hero's journey, these quests all begin with going into darkness. First. And the same, even though we talk about light loads as Pure Land Buddhists, the light of the Buddha, the light of the Pure Land, that spiritual journey begins in darkness, and it is in darkness where we get to meet ourselves. So there's actually something really appropriate about the New Year being this time when we move into the dark. This is the time when we turn inwards and examine our own darkness. And as we bring our attention to that, the Buddha appears and the light appears. And it is these two things together that are the heart of Pure Land Buddhism— knowing our own darkness in the light, in the unconditional loving wisdom of Amida Buddha. And it's also harvest festival time, which I don't really do as an adult, but I did used to really appreciate when we used to in primary school and, um, in the local church halls and things, collecting tins of food which you'd then give out to families in need. And the table at the front piled high with all these fruits and vegetables. It's sort of this time of year, sort of second harvest. There is a harvest earlier in the year at the end of summer, but it's when you would traditionally, you'd stockpile all of, you'd collect everything in, and then you'd preserve it all to get you through the winter. And the Harvest Festival is about gratitude, right? So that's a classic Buddhist practice. So that's the second lesson, is being grateful for what we receive, however much it is. You might prefer to be able to pick fruits and vegetables all the year round, and we can't do that in this climate, but we still receive this great bounty that we can be grateful for. So regardless, regardless of what the weather's like and what the internal weather is like. There's always something to be grateful for, and it's good to bring our attention to those things. That's the second lesson. And the third is about honoring the ancestors, which is a traditional Buddhist practice that is sort of gets a bit lost in the West. And we can think of this in two ways as Buddhists. One, in the broadest possible way, when we practice Buddhism, when we meditate, or when we say Nembutsu, it is for the benefit of all beings. That's a traditional way of understanding practice. The Heart of the Buddha practices for all beings. Sometimes it is said as all living beings, but actually the benefits of practice extend to, to your loved ones, to your— the people immediately around you as you sort of shift and change, and the benefits of that ripple into the world. But Traditionally, Buddhists believe that there's also something more mystical, a kind of more mystical transmission that happens, that when we deeply engage in meditation, in chanting, that the benefits of that can be felt across the whole universe and throughout time. So all of our ancestors benefit. And it's really good to cultivate that mindset. Actually, it can transform practice from something that I am doing to make myself feel better, which is often where we begin, and like completely valid way of undertaking Buddhist practice. But the shift into I am practicing for the sake of everybody, which includes ourselves. That is part of the journey towards enlightenment, that, that the love is including everybody. And we can think of ancestor practice in a much more specific way as well, not just about everybody, but about particular individuals. So when Shinran was a monk on Mount Hiei, his job was— and he was an attendant at a Nembutsu Memorial Hall, maybe twice as big as this shrine room. And, um, the practice was that you would invite— you could go and say nembutsu there and transfer the merit of that practice to to specific ancestors that had died, wishing them a higher— that they would go into the Pure Land. So the idea is after death they're in the bardo, and you as a family member can dedicate your practice to these specific people in order to sort of juice them up, give them the, the spiritual power to to get into the Pure Land, out of the transitional bardo and into the Pure Land. And then Nembutsu became something that you did to get yourself into the Pure Land and also for the sake of all beings. But originally it, or at this time, it was used to help specific ancestors. And there is something really useful about thinking about specific ancestors and, and how we help them. Now, you might not believe in life after death. You might, might not believe that your spirit— the spirits of your ancestors are floating around needing assistance, but you might still understand that the habit patterns that you inherit from your family tradition are in you somewhere. The beliefs, the unconscious beliefs, the ways that people behave that influence us, they get passed down. Trauma can get passed down through generations. Self-habits of self-protection can get passed down through generations. And practicing with specific ancestors in mind can be helping those spirits go to the Pure Land, but can also be an invitation to transform those traits and behaviors and unhelpful beliefs in our own systems, to bring love and compassion, to invite the love and compassion of the Buddha to those things that we've inherited. That are no longer serving us. But we don't only inherit self-protective traits from our ancestors. We can also inherit really positive things. And learning about particular people in our family history can sort of inspire us or can help us understand our own character more deeply.. And these can all be really fruitful exercises that, that help us on our spiritual journey. And as Buddhists, of course, we come into this family of Buddhist ancestors where there are examples of monks and nuns through the ages that we can look to for inspiration. And this is another way that we can work with the ancestors, to go and read the story of Shakyamuni Buddha or of Maha Prajapati and ask, what, what can I receive from this? And sometimes unexpectedly, guidance appears that feels like it's a gift from the ancestors if we are willing to be open to it. So these are the three things that I think we can learn from Sueen. The idea that we begin by going into the darkness, the value of going into the dark places The importance of practicing gratitude for what we receive and then offering those things to other people, and the importance of keeping our ancestors in mind, both our family ancestors and the ancestors of our Buddhist tradition, honoring the positive things we've received and practicing to transform anything that still needs healing in our lineage. Nam-myoho-renge-kyo. Maybe we'll just hear Annie Fitch's poem again before we move into prostrations. Is that all right, Satya Robyn?

Sowain. In the season leaves should love, since it gives them leave to move through the wind towards the ground they were watching while they hung. Legend says there is a seam stitching darkness like a name. Now when dying grasses veil earth from the sky, in one last pale wave. As autumn dies to bring winter back, and then the spring, we who die ourselves can peel back another kind of veil that hangs among us like thick smoke. Tonight at last I feel it shake. I feel the nights stretching away, thousands long behind the days. 'til they reach the darkness where all of me is ancestor. I move my hand and feel a touch move with me, and when I brush my own mind across another, I am with my mother's mother. Sure as footsteps in my waiting self, I find her, and she brings arms that carry answers for me. Intimate, awaiting bounty. Carry me. She leaves this trail through a shudder of the veil and leaves like amber where she stays, a gift for her perpetual gaze.

So we now make our prostrations to our great ancestor, the Buddha. This incense to all Buddhas and bodhisattvas throughout space and time. May these fragrances of this self, reflecting our careful efforts, our wholehearted awareness, and the fruits of understanding, slowly lighten. May all beings become companions of Buddhas and bodhisattvas, and we awaken from forgetfulness and realize our true life. In a moment we'll close with the closing verse, but a reminder that the donation bowl is in the hallway and there's also a QR code if you want to donate online. And what's really helpful, if you haven't, is to set up a regular donation. It really helps us planning and kind of knowing what's coming in and going out. And you can apply gift aid to that as well, um, online. All very straightforward. And on the 7th of December— 6th? No, the 8th of December is Bodhi Day, but which is a Sunday, but we'll have our retreat down the 7th because we usually meet on Saturdays.

Um, so put that in your diary. If you and maybe Cameron, John, they are free for 5 minutes after practice, be good to check out any time.

Okay, great. So we'll finish with the closing verse. Blessed by Anustapa's lights, may we care for all living things and the holy earth.