I'm still reading Zen teacher Brad Warner's new book, Sex, Sin, and Zen. As the title suggests, the book explores sexual issues as illuminated by Zen and the life experiences of the author, a Gen X American male. Which is to say that I'm not the best person to review the book, as it mostly makes me feel like a visitor from another planet.
Please understand I'm not saying it's a bad book. In fact, it's probably an excellent book for those born into the post-Sexual Revolution world, especially those who are confused about Buddhist practice and sexuality. I agree with the sensei's perspectives more often than not. It's just that on the whole this is not a book I relate to personally, and it's hard for me to judge how other people might relate to it.
That said, here and there some passages did resonate with me, and here's one I'd like to share.
In Chapter 21 on sexual orientation and identity, Warner writes that identifying oneself with any group too strongly becomes a hindrance. "All of us are a big stew of stuff," he writes. "The aspects of ourselves that manifest as our particular orientation are not all there is. When you identify rigidly with certain aspects of yourself you're actively suppressing those aspects that don't fit that identity."
The way we construct our identities goes way beyond just sexual orientation, of course. Most people grow into the roles their families and cultures assign to them and suppress whatever doesn't fit. As adults, we often gravitate toward groups we "identify" with, and the association forms a feedback loop in which shared attitudes, opinions, biases, and other aspects are magnified and whatever doesn't "fit" into the group is buried very deep, indeed.
It's also common to think that if we could somehow do away with the neurotic, clinging, clumsy, fearful, disappointing old aspects of our self, our better aspects would shine through, and our lives would be so much better. "But what will break down is the heavy identification of the self with any of its aspects," Warner writes.
Warner quotes Daigan Gaither, a monk at the San Francisco Zen Center:
"People in some forms of Buddhism say you have to get rid of your identity. But for me, I spent a lot of time getting molested over my identity. What do you mean get rid of it? This is what we got. But later on I saw that it's not the identity we get rid of. We change our relationship to it. We try not to reify it or lock it into some place. It's seeing identity as empty. It's just there. It doesn't have any intrinsic value. It's not good, and it's not bad."
I don't know if those of you working in a tantric tradition will relate to this, but what Daigan says here is very, well, Zen. And the fact is that as identity becomes less of a hard, immovable thing, the light of dharma does "shine through."
This passage also illustrates the difference between Zen and psychology. My first Zen teacher, Daido Roshi, used to say that we all live in a box, and the walls of the box are made up of who we think we are and what we think our life is supposed to be. The purpose of psychology is to make the box a more pleasant place to live in. You expand it, put in some windows to let in more light, maybe re-arrange the furniture. But with Zen, you see that the box is an illusion.
And this sorta kinda relates to the recent post on "The Pursuit of Happiness." As long as the "pursuit" is viewed from the perspective of a needy individual seeking some thing outside oneself, there's a problem. And this applies to enlightenment also. If there is a separation between oneself and an objectified goal, there's a problem. That's where most of us start, of course, but try not to stay stuck there.
Our identities are relative ideas that we hold, multi-faceted and guiding our interconnection to everything else. They don’t need to be abandoned, but just seen through, like a crystal palace. They hold importance as some things resonate very deeply with us as individuals, and some things are seen to be shallow and unimportant, regardless of what others think and say about us or society’s expectations. Such authenticity is essential to realizing one’s true nature.
Pete,
Great comment. I totally agree. As a Nichiren Buddhist, we take the “Precept of the Diamond Chalice” or the “Diamond Treasures Precept.” Nichiren explains it as: “The five characters of Myoho-renge-kyo, the heart of the essential teaching of the Lotus Sutra, contain the benefit amassed through the countless practices and meritorious deeds of all Buddhas throughout the three existences. Then, how can these five characters not include the benefits obtained by observing all of the Buddha’s precepts? Once the practitioner embraces this perfectly endowed wonderful precept, he cannot break it, even if he should try. It is therefore called the precept of the diamond chalice” (”The Teaching, Practice, and Proof,” The Writings of Nichiren Daishonin, p. 481).
In essence, this ubreakable single precept is emphasized in an earlier period by theSaicho(Dengyo), the founder of the Japanese Tendai school, who refers to ‘hongaku’ or the concept of ‘original enlightenment.’ I guess that if this is taken to the extreme, it would mean that no buddhist practice or observance of precepts was necessary as we are already Buddhas just as we are! However, if we understand how this concept is reformed by Nichiren, it becomes harmonized and balanced insofar as “the purpose of the appearance in this world of Shakyamuni Buddha, the lord of teachings, lies in his behavior as a human being”(Nichiren) In other words, it is through our behavior and upholding of the sutra (including through practice) itself and through ALL of our actions, through our very lives in our current cultural and social context(s), that we fulfill our vow, not just limited to our time in as ordained monks or priests or laypersons,etc…
namaste
Good points, Barbara. I’d add that it’s one thing to use this as a narrative of one’s practice, but it takes decades of practice to actively dwell in and beyond the illusion, for want of better words. I think you’d agree.
P.S. I like what Rilke said about why he didn’t do psychoanalysis: “I am afraid that if I loose my demons, my angels will take flight as well.”
I don’t think our identities only include what we think of them. I’m quite happy to accept that our identities are an actual reality that we can’t help or control. I really wonder if all we actually do is relate to our relative identity.
I don’t think that it takes thirty years of practice to realize this. Maybe to sit and think about every way that our identity is involved in relation to other factors, sure, but I think that’s a waste of time. Knowing that its not self-caused and one’s ideas are not one’s own is enough.
As I’m sure I’ve said before in comments on your blog, Barbara, its an endless flux of ultimate vs relative, but then who’s measuring? If anyone is, how is that possible?
What do you mean by “actual reality”?
Thank you, Barbara, for this site and the questions you raise within me. I am one of the fractured people who look outside for some authority or bedrock. Any point of confusion, conflict, or confrontation eventually ends in the one source, that which lies inside. It has guided me through the roughest patches of life – and – kept me young as I grow older.
Only an Enlightened Buddha who realizes the Dharmakaya, or Reality Body (or Buddha Mind) doesn’t feel the need for some sort of relative identity. The rest of us will have a conventional identity until this realization is attained. I don’t think there is anything wrong with this as long as one increasingly releases attachment to it while still utilizing it as a bodhisattva.