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 : Winter 2013
14 BUDDHADHARMA: THE PRACTITIONER’S QUARTERLY WINTER 2 0 1 3 if a supervisor or monitor wields his authority in a way that is not in the best interest of those under him, the trainee on the receiving end, if well-integrated and determined, can still use it to develop himself. Ultimately, the value of the exchange depends on the mind of the subordinate. A monk who can bear up under such treatment does forge a certain strength, a survivor’s toughness that can serve him well in adversity forever after. Such fortitude is an enviable asset to develop—a great foundation. But the promise of spiritual training goes fur- ther, to what Zen master Dogen referred to as “the development of a tender heart,” describ- ing the purpose of practice. After hundreds or thousands of little instances in training in which he has no choice but to acquiesce to the circumstances imposed upon him, he will have developed an absolutely priceless ability to become one with what cannot be changed. What training could be more valuable when facing death, or when confronted by grave illness, divorce, or other crises? These and other times of loss are the ultimate tests of our practice. Zen master Wumen (Mumon) declared, “If you want to know pure gold, see it in the midst of fire.” FROM ZEN BOW, NUMBERS 1 & 2, 2013 THE VIEW FROM WHERE I SIT Matthew Wise reminds us that even if we have the best seat in the house, we still aren’t seeing the whole show. We don’t like to be proven wrong, nor to be reminded that we don’t always have right view. We especially don’t like to be embar- rassed by our ignorance and foolishness. I admit, it’s often difficult for me to determine the difference between “my view” and “right view.” But here’s how I try to think about it: I imagine I’m attending a Broadway show. “My view” is like having a really good seat in the orchestra section of the theater. I like my view because I think that I can see the whole stage. Yet I’m really only able to see the stage from that one position; my view is limited. It’s not like the view someone else has from a balcony seat. My view is also impermanent. I can only see the show moment by moment; I’m unable to hold on to a moment once it has occurred. It becomes a fleeting memory. From my view, the truth is unattainable. In contrast, the show’s director has some- thing more akin to “right view.” The director knows the details of all the backstage work- ings: the order of the lines, the costumes and scenery, what has just happened, and what will be happening next. He knows about the entire development of the show, the mistakes and the successes. He may even have a histor- ical knowledge of theatre that transcends and contextualizes this one particular production. His view is like Amida’s view, one of Infinite Wisdom, illuminated by Infinite Light, ever- lasting and timeless. From Amida’s view, attainment of the truth is assured. Amida’s view is right view. Knowing all this, I ask myself, Do I want to remain in my seat, living in my deluded, illusory, self-centered point of view? Or do I want to see the truth of the production, infi- nite and timeless? I choose the latter. FROM KOKORO, THE NEWSLETTER OF THE NEW YORK BUDDHIST CHURCH, JULY–AUGUST 2013 FINDING YOUR DHARMA HOME How can you choose the sangha that’s right for you? Your intuition, says Lodro Rinzler, will get you where you need to go. Recently I visited an inter-Buddhist group. Not inter-faith or interreligious but inter- Buddhist, meaning that they were a group that met to sit meditation together once a week but also belonged to a dozen different sanghas around the city. One person raised her hand and asked, essentially, “How do I know which sangha to choose?”