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 : Win 2012
WINTER 2 0 1 2 BUDDHADHARMA: THE PRACTITIONER’S QUARTERLY 15 identifying with the currents of the mind. It requires vigilance, energy, and perseverance to withstand the power of our desires, fears, and feelings of loneliness, hunger, and grief, and the resistance of the mind that can arise toward almost anything: a daily routine that seems repetitive, having to work with only a few hours of sleep and on one main meal a day, or living among people one has not cho- sen to be with. The recollection of death and the uncertainty of life are important incen- tives that urge us to live wisely and to not delay the precious opportunity to realize the end of suffering, nibbana. FROM THE MIDDLE WAY: JOURNAL OF THE BUDDHIST SOCIETY, AUGUST 2012 IF THOSE CONTINENTS COULD SPEAK In this original submission to First Thoughts, Christopher King imagines a natural world in which its many parts feel separate. Something amusing occurred to me recently. I was looking at an aerial view of the Earth on television and thought to myself, if those con- tinents could speak, I bet they would say they were totally separate from one another. They would know nothing of the oceans’ floor. Their self-containment would be an illusion created by the tricky oceans, convincing them that they were completely isolated. And those same oceans, so big and rough, would surely be too arrogant to even consider that they were connected to the rest of the atmosphere. The oceans know nothing about evapora- tion or the other bodies of water that they feed. They are oblivious to anything but their powerful waves. My guess is that if you could interview any one of the zillions and zillions of drops of water that make up any one of our oceans, they would never admit that they are simply one of the zillions that make up the whole. How could they know? They’re so small. They cannot see themselves crashing on the beach, or look up and see the gigantic ships gliding across their surface. I bet you that if existence were interview- ing me right now, she’d say, “You know, you and that drop of water really have a lot in common.” “I WANT!” Desire in and of itself isn’t actually a problem, says Zen Master Wu Kwang (Richard Shrobe). The difficulty arises when self-clinging is involved. Once, during an interview, a student asked Zen Master Wu Kwang: “Desires are inexhaustible. What does this mean?” Zen Master Wu Kwang replied: “I want!” The student asked: “Then how do you extinguish them all?” Zen Master Wu Kwang said: “I want!” Commentary: Human life is “I want!” Even to direct yourself toward extinguishing desires is a want or desire. Strictly speaking, desire, or even preference, is not the problem. Clinging and self-centered craving are really the core of the issue. One must ask: Why do “I want,” and for whom? How do I use the energy of desire to go beyond just I, my, me? When you’re hungry, eat; when someone else is hungry, give the person some food. FROM PRIMARY POINT, SUMMER 2012