using the arrow buttons.
by clicking on the page.
the page around when zoomed in by dragging it.
the zoom using the slider when zoomed-in.
by clicking on the zoomed-in page.
by entering text in the search field, and select "This Issue" or "All Issues"
by clicking on thumbnails to select pages, and then press the print button.
displays sections with thumbnails and descriptions.
displays a slider of thumbnails. Click on a page to jump.
allows you to browse the full archive.
about your subscription?
Buddhadharma : Fall 2017
fall 2017 buddhadharma: the practitioner’s quarterly 73 The young adults I interviewed recognize the harm in erasing Asian American Buddhists from representations of Buddhism in America. Whether Buddhism is the religion of their family of origin, a religion they have sought out for themselves, or both, they recognize that Asian American Buddhists are not solely responsible for their invisibility. Remedying misrepresentations of American Buddhism must be a collective effort, one that includes Asian Americans and others who have been largely absent from mainstream portrayals of American Buddhism, as well as white allies who are willing to cede control of the Buddhist mediascape in which their voices currently prevail. Summer 2016 Looking Under the Bed by Karen Maezen Miller Once I wrote a book about motherhood. People sometimes recommend it to others by saying, “Don’t let the fact that it’s written by a Zen Buddhist priest scare you away.” To be honest, I know a fair number of Zen priests who are petrified of parenthood, so the misjudgments are mutual. Still, it makes me wonder, “What kind of an encounter with a Zen Buddhist priest would scare you?” Then I realize that it is likely to be the kind of encounter my daughter has had with menacing nighttime monsters—the kind under the bed. That’s the kind of Zen—and, moreover, the kind of Buddhism—that I see proliferating these days: the imaginary kind. When I hear the calls to make buddhadharma more accessible to the Western mind, I wince. When I see the attempts to adapt the teaching to make it relevant to modern life, I wail. Buddhadharma can’t possibly be made more accessible than it already is, because it is what is. How can something so inexpressibly obvious be adapted into something more obvious? The original teaching is so totally immediate that it makes comparisons of relevance, well, irrelevant. I wonder if by “accessible” we mean “convenient” and if by “relevant” we mean “popular.” Modern life is already so overfed with convenience that it’s killing us; we are so addicted to the poison of popularity that we are spiritually starving. What’s lacking is not a modern method or a fresh spin, but pure and simple practice. Practice! And to find that, you have to look under the bed. You have to sweep away the dust of conceptual notions and the accumulations of indolence. You have to turn on the overhead light and come face-to-face with your ego fears. Do that within a sangha, or practice community, and you are comforted and emboldened like a child in the night when a mother lifts the bedspread and reassures, “Here, honey, open your eyes and see for yourself.” Winter 2008