Deity yoga and non-duality
I am experiencing a real crisis of confidence this week, not only in our village and its ability to prepare for the Lama’s visit but also in my own faith and my practical understanding of it.
Although some of my neighbours have begun preparations for the visit, many more have not. I have contributed mightily. As builders, Anil and I have begun constructing a throne; we have also donated almost half of our wealth, texts of scholarship, our prayer flags and our khatas. The merit associated with dāna increases proportionate to the spiritual virtue of the person to whom one makes donations; to contribute to such an esteemed Lama will surely accumulate much benefit for us. Contrarily, inadequate preparations will reflect very badly on us both practically and karmically. Why do my neighbours not see it this way?
Could it perhaps be me who has Wrong View? At least one controversial teacher would say yes. To paraphrase the Thai teacher Buddhadāsa Bhikkhu, to offer dāna with the expectation of a future reward is misguided, even “childish”! This contradicts much of what I have been taught about the laws of karma and the practice of merit-making but, upon reflection, I can see his point. For a Buddhist, there are several reasons why giving purely for future benefit doesn’t make sense. First, to hope for future merit is to crave it, to be subject to the ongoing taṇhā that feeds the perpetual suffering identified in the First Noble Truth. Second, in expecting a personal benefit, one is demonstrating an attachment to the concept of a fixed and permanent self that exists to receive the benefit. Finally, on an even deeper philosophical level, this ‘trade’ of dāna for merit is an example of dualistic thinking. One is assuming that “I” am separate from “the Lama”, that my donations are separate from the reward that will flow from them, even that concepts such as “good” and “evil” are separate dualistic extremes.
So how can I reconcile this philosophical reasoning with our everyday life in which there is still a throne to be built? I can loosen my views a little bit and give with a more generous heart and with less expectation. Beyond this, however, things get more difficult. Although I can understand the concepts of no-self and non-duality intellectually, I know this is a far cry from what the teachings intend. The ultimate goal is to experience them directly. I need to work toward this level of understanding gradually, perhaps over many lifetimes. I need to deepen my meditative practice.
There are certainly concrete steps that I could take in order to deepen it. Counter-intuitively, in our culture it is generally thought that the quickest way to reach enlightenment is to visualize that one is already enlightened! We do this through a practice known as deity yoga, the exercise of which will probably seem quite foreign to you. With the help of a Lama, we select a specific spiritual being called our yi dam. Then, while in a meditative state, we attempt to merge with him. We might imagine ourselves inhabiting our yi dam’s heavenly realm, assuming his physical form or possessing his divine powers. Our ultimate goal is to replace our conscious experience of ‘ourselves’ with that of the spiritual being. Although it may sound surprising, we thus actually become our yi dam.
The first step in deity yoga is the empowerment rite, an initiation into the practice. I am very much hoping that the visiting Lama performs a mass empowerment ritual during his visit; I have heard that the Dalai Lama occasionally performs mass empowerments for thousands of people at a time! (I’ve included a photo of a recent Avalokiteshvara empowerment below.) Formal deity yoga is for quite advanced practitioners. If I decide to undertake it more seriously, I will need a personal empowerment rite in the future but perhaps attending a mass empowerment might help me decide if I want to do this. At a minimum, Anil and I would benefit from the good health, long life and positive merit that is sure to accrue to attendees.
As a community, we are still very much in need of this merit. This week I also learned of the damage sustained by our nunnery during the hailstorm: the building was virtually destroyed and many sacred texts sustained water damage. This is especially significant for our town as so many of our inhabitants are nuns. At present, slightly more than 50% of our woman are monastics; this compares to less than 25% of our men. Ratios in the town of my birth were similar. There’s no avoiding the fact that daily life is difficult for women here. There are few opportunities for creative expression and, although the Buddha was revolutionary in establishing a path for female monastics 2500 years ago, the power structures of both Buddhism and our local village remain patriarchal. A monastic life is one path open to women unwilling to accept conventional roles, something that hasn’t changed substantially from the days of Patacara, Canda and Bhadda, the earliest pabbajitas and bhikkhunis. Even so, our bhikkunis are doctrinally subordinate to our bhikkhus. I know from your letters that Canadian society is much different; I suspect such societal change, if it comes here, will come slowly.
