The Buddhists see the elimination of Delusion as a spiritual necessity and almost as an end in itself. Abir Taha’s Arya speaks of the need to rid oneself of it as well:

It is time for you to open your eyes to the truth that shall set you free from your worst enemy: your ego, that delusion which calls itself reality, the sweetest of poisons which clings to forms and appearances and everything shallow, that which flees all depth, while your self cries out for you to look deeper, feel lighter, and think higher.

With Taha, the end goal is certainly not the nihilism or ‘Anatman’ that some associate with Buddhism:

Man is an instrument of the gods; he is an integral part of Nature, as the soul of the universe pervades all aspects of Life. Man becomes great when he merges his Self and his destiny with the spirit and the destiny of the universe, which is the spirit and destiny of God. All else is folly, delusion, and wasted dreams.

Here again, we can see the practical value of Buddhism. One of its fundamental tenets, the elimination of delusion, allows man to serve his higher purpose. Before such a realization, all effective work is impossible.

Copyright © 2009, 2010 Gornahoor Press

Since another contributor to Gornahoor has penned an excellent series of articles on Shunryu Suzuki, I thought it appropriate to write something on Suzuki Roshi’s Dharma brother, Chogyam Trungpa.

Chogyam Trungpa Rinpoche (Rinpoche is an honorary Tibetan title which means “precious one”) almost single-handedly brought Tibetan Buddhism to the West.  Although several other lamas emigrated to the West before him, no one else had anywhere near as much of an impact.  In his short time here, he firmly established the Kagyu lineage, founded the tradition of Shambhala Buddhism, founded Dharma centers all across the continent, as well as a major university in Boulder, Colorado, and left behind a legacy that still resonates to this day.  A good deal of the vocabulary of Buddhism in English is the result of his work and teaching.

There is much information about Chogyam Trungpa available at other sites, so I won’t bother rehashing the details of his life here, including the controversies which some find off-putting.  What I would like to mention are some aspects of his teaching that are especially relevant to Gornahoor and our readers.

Trungpa Rinpoche arrived in the United States in the early 1970s, when the country was still tearing itself apart over the Vietnam war and the counterculture.  There was an entire generation of desperate, confused, spiritually hungry people, some of whom had begun to look east for answers and salvation.  This is the situation he had to deal with upon his arrival, and the way he dealt with it is very telling.

More than anything else, he stressed the need for meditation practice.  In Tibet, the Kagyu school to which he belonged is known as the “practice lineage.”  He also guided his students away from the many mind-altering drugs that were especially prevalent at the time, such as marijuana (which he thought was particularly detrimental to spiritual practice) and the stronger hallucinogens.

In a time of fiercely anti-traditional attitudes, Rinpoche taught his students respect for tradition – not only his own Tibetan traditions, but the traditions of the West.  He saw that many Westerners were adopting Tibetan or Indian culture along with Buddhist or Hindu spirituality, and he encouraged his students to see the beauty and majesty of their own cultures and traditions, rather than pretending to be something they are not. He modeled his community of students on the traditional structure of a King’s court, and made his students get haircuts and wear suits and formal dresses, so as to look the part of a proper courtier.  Rinpoche himself was very fond of suits, as the above photo shows.

In an era of laziness and cynicism, which he termed ‘setting sun vision,’ he encouraged responsibility, dignity, and the vision of the Great Eastern Sun.  As in Plato and other Traditional teachings, Rinpoche used the light of the sun as a metaphor for the primordial state of enlightenment, which he also called ‘basic goodness’ because it is the very basis and foundation of being.

Chogyam Trungpa Rinpoche met Shunryu Suzuki some time in the early seventies, and they remained great friends throughout their lives.

Copyright © 2009, 2010 Gornahoor Press

“Enlightenment is not some good feeling or some particular state of mind. The state of mind that exists when you sit in the right posture is, itself, enlightenment.”

Shunryu Suzuki

Suzuki thoroughly stresses the non-dualism in Buddhism, which means that it is a practice concerned with the immediate. There is no making up for past sins, nor is there a future ideal that one should mould themselves toward. Instead, Buddhism is a practice that enlightens by dispersing delusions, or anything that negatively distorts one’s perception of immediate reality. This does not mean to actively fight the activity that goes on in one mind. Rather, Suzuki suggests that one should:

not be bothered by anything… if you are not bothered by the waves (of your mind), gradually they will become calmer and calmer…

Physical desires, like comfort and sex, and grandiose visions for oneself are the more well-known types of delusion, but delusion applies to spiritual matters as well. Towards one’s religion, which, again, is a label Suzuki does not believe rightly applies to Buddhism, Suzuki recommends an attitude of ‘non-attachment.’ Suzuki believes a Buddhist can also be Christian, Hindu, or Islamic, but he states that a practitioner of another faith should not understand their faith “substantially” in the sense that they know that:

There is no certain way that exists permanently. There is no way set up for us. Moment after moment we have to find our own way. Some idea of perfection, or some perfect way which is set up by someone else, is not the true way for us.

In an age where social, spiritual, and psychic chaos has overridden the defenses religion has set up, it is easy to see where such a view has appeal to even devout believers in another faith.

The belief in non-substantiality is bolstered by the one necessary belief in Buddhism: the belief in nothing. That is not to say not having beliefs. Rather, a literal belief in nothing which means “in something which has no form and no color—something which exists before all forms and colors appear.” Insightfully, the Buddhist understands faith in something before nothingness to mean attachment, which would make that belief one “based more or less on a self-centered idea.” This belief cannot be rightly called nihilism, just an understanding of the reality of transiency, which zazen overcomes through its practice.

A final point on Suzuki’s understanding of Zen should sound familiar to readers of Evola and his idea of “action without desire.” To Suzuki, non-attachment means to act while leaving “no trace” of one’s self in one’s actions. What this means is “you should do it (something) with your whole body and mind; you should be concentrated on what you do. You should do it completely, like a good bonfire… If you do not burn yourself completely, a trace of yourself will be left in what you do.”

Zazen is a practice that allows one to understand one’s true being. It is highly practical for a man of Tradition for this reason.

Copyright © 2009, 2010 Gornahoor Press

Suzuki, who was the Zen master who popularized the teaching of the 13th century’s Dogen via the Bastion of tradition San Francisco, offers thorough advice about Zen and attempts to describe to students the goal of it. The practicality of his advice extends outside of Zen though, and much of it confirms the Traditional view of Buddhism and can be of good use to a student of Tradition who is not otherwise interested in Buddhism.

Suzuki confirms Evola`s claim that Buddhism is not a religion: “Our practice has nothing to do with some particular religious belief.” Suzuki claims that regardless of other traditions one is loyal to: “Our practice is for everyone.” Similarly, Suzuki tells us that Buddhism has nothing to do with feeling a certain way about Buddha or his teachings. Rather, “Buddhism is not good or bad. We are doing what we should do. That is Buddhism.”

Buddhism, then, can be considered a practice that is beyond good and evil. Despite the prejudices of some of its followers, it must not necessarily be used to “improve the lives of all livings beings,” at least in the sense that they understand that phrase to mean.

In beginning practice, Suzuki informs us that the most important rule to remember is to “keep our beginner’s mind,” which means to not develop a feeling of ‘mastery’ to any of the Buddhist practices. One should instead maintain the original attitude one had to any teaching that one felt during one’s first encounter with it. According to Suzuki, “In the beginner’s mind there are many possibilities; in the expert’s mind there are few.”`

Like keeping this practice, a man of Tradition who has not fully committed himself to a doctrine can live by this teaching and by the Hindu idea of “All is Maya.” If the modern world is false and its features illusion, then it is pointless to hold prejudice against its aspects. Rather, we should drop our preconceived idea about certain elements or doctrines and instead see where the best possible positive, Traditional action can be taken in our lives. It is pointless to see a particular religion as ‘good’ or ‘bad’ compared to another one. Rather, all have fallen and are in need of restoration to their fullness.

Copyright © 2009, 2010 Gornahoor Press

The premise from which the Buddhist Doctrine of Awakening starts is the destruction of the demon of dialectics; the renunciation of the various constructions of thought and speculation which are simply an expression of opinion, and of the profusion of theories, which are projections of a fundamental restlessness in which a mind that has not yet found itself its own principle seeks for support.

~ Julius Evola, The Doctrine of Awakening

This premise is the exact opposite of what people believe. They believe in the search for the right opinion, the correct view, the salvific belief. The purpose of this search is to do the impossible: to build a castle in the air. The man engaged in this quest is unaware of this elementary thesis:

We accept the proofs of Hume, Kant, Herbert Spencer, Fuller, and others of this thesis:
The Ratiocinative Faculty or Reason of Man contains in its essential nature an element of self-contradiction.

~ Aleister Crowley, Equinox Vol 1 No 2

To this we would add, from Goedel: if a system of thought contains no self-contradiction, then it is incomplete.

While for Beings in the human state, there is necessarily a perspective (see Hermit Crabs and Nietzsche), it is equally necessary to understand that it is only a perspective, something arbitrary and ephemeral, and unrelated to real knowledge, True Will, Awakening, the Solar spirit. All our opinions on politics and popular culture, our likes and dislikes, our style or dress, are all equally arbitrary and stand as obstacles to Awakening.

Opinion, O disciples, is a disease; opinion is a tumour; opinion is a sore. He who has overcome all opinions, O disciples, is called a saint, one who knows. (Majjhima-nikaya 2:38)

Crowley once proposed an interesting exercise, which we adapt. For one year, be a political liberal. Subscribe to their journals, read their web sites, attend their rallies. The following year, read conservative journals, watch their networks, participate in their demonstrations. Try to understand the worldviews of each, how that affects their opinions on issues, and blinds them to deeper truths. The same could be done with attitudes toward pop cultures or personal styles. Such exercises will loosen the hold that opinions have over us; they will give us more options for action; they will begin the process of awakening our consciousness from the turgidity of ordinary life.

Man has two aspects: his essence and his personality. His essence is who he truly is, what he is born with, beyond the superficialities of opinion. Personality is what accrues to him during his life, his opinions and imaginings, or “social constructs”. You will find that what is essential and what is a social construct are polar opposites from what is commonly believed.

“Do I contradict myself? I embrace multitudes.” (Walt Whitman) Go ahead, embrace multitudes. Only thought can contradict itself, “I” cannot.

Copyright © 2009, 2010 Gornahoor Press

Part of the Western tendency to romanticize Eastern traditions is that we see them only in terms of their ideal.  Many Westerners think of Tibet or China or India as an idyllic land of sages, because they have studied some Asian philosophy and spirituality, and assume that the land and people which produced it actually lives up to the ideals it expresses.

In contrast, they see Christianity not in terms of its ideal form, but in terms of how it actually functions in the world, because we have much more actual exposure to it.  So when these Westerners think of Buddhism, Hinduism, or Taoism, they think of enlightened beings, but when they think of Christianity, they think of boring church services, kooky televangelists, and pedophile priest scandals.

One wonders if Christian converts in Asia idealize Christianity in the same way that Westerners idealize Asian traditions.

The reality of one tradition can never compare to the ideal of another.  All living traditions contain examples of human folly and imperfection, as well as examples of human greatness and transcendence.  To focus on only one or the other is to have an incomplete view.

Instead, our approach to studying traditions should be neither the romanticism of the new age believer, nor the skepticism of the academic debunker, but should contain both the openness of the former, and the discernment of the latter.

To some extent, the belief that there must be somewhere where human beings do and are better than here is an expression of the intuition that the divine is real, and that we ourselves can be better.  In the world of Tradition, this intuition and longing found expression in the idea of a better world in the ancient past, in the coming future, or in another realm.  This conveyed the idea that in order to get to or restore that place, work is necessary.  But in the modern world, many people cannot think outside of earthly geography, and so this longing is instead projected onto foreign lands, and people’s idea of working towards spiritual growth is saving for a plane ticket to India.  The recent film The Darjeeling Limited portrayed several Americans who hold this delusional belief.

Copyright © 2009, 2010 Gornahoor Press

Some of the discussion on this site has centered around what tradition or spiritual path is appropriate for Western people in this day and age. Some say one or another form of Christianity. Others favor various pagan spiritualities.

This discussion is not academic or theoretical. In America, we face in a situation in which most people:

1. are not deeply connected to a spiritual tradition, since Christianity was already on the decline by the time of the founding, and the forms of it which the first European settlers brought with them were already non-Traditional in many respects.

2. are not deeply connected to the land itself, and thus not to any autocthonous traditions such as those of the continent’s prior inhabitants.

Thus, Americans seeking a spirituality are in a quandary, or rather, at a cross-roads. We are in Nietzsche’s phase of nihilism, in which the old gods and values have died, but new ones have yet to be born. In some ways, our situation is like that of ancient China during the Warring States period, when different philosophies and worldviews actively competed with one another for dominance. The stakes are real, because the vacuum is real, and nature abhors it.

It seems to me that one such contender for the throne is Buddhism. It has taken root in the West in a remarkably short time, and will likely continue to do so, particularly in its Tibetan and Japanese Zen manifestations.

Buddhism has much to recommend it. It is an authentic tradition that has been well-preserved (particularly the above-mentioned forms.) It has an advanced philosophy and metaphysics which, because of its ‘negative theology,’ appeals to modern skeptical minds and can dialogue and debate with science in a way that Christianity has been unable to. Its greatest strength, in my view, is its emphasis on meditation. Buddhism’s highly developed system of meditation, built around the pillars of samatha and vipassana (shi-ne and lhagtong in Tibetan) is surely one of the greatest spiritual treasures of the world, and one of the best methods available to contemporary people.

However, because of the nature of our age and the particular conditions of our country and our people, there are some problems with the emerging ‘Western Buddhism.’

The problem is not that Western Buddhism will have its own distinct characteristics that will make it unique. This has been the case with all forms of Buddhism in the world, for better and for worse. In the case of Tibet, Buddhism encountered a strong native shamanic tradition (Bonpo) which it was able to merge with, adapting it into a Traditional form. Similarly, Buddhism in Japan assimilated various Shinto deities as bodhisattvas and protectors. Each of these nations had strong traditions that Buddhism was able to grasp onto, like a plant cutting which uses another plant’s roots for its own nourishment and growth.

But in America, and the West in general, we have largely lost touch with the sacred, and we have no strong tradition that Buddhism or any other authentic spirituality might grasp onto. Sure, there is dialogue between Christians and Buddhists, with the former taking up meditation and the latter considering Jesus as a great bodhisattva or enlightened being. But it doesn’t seem to add up to much. If anything, the encounter between Buddhism and science seems more vital and potentially fruitful.

So instead of seeing Buddhism working with an existing, native tradition in a constructive way, we see modern, rootless people desperately grasping at foreign cultures for an identity and a worldview.

This brings us to the problem of Buddhism’s connection with both leftist politics and the ‘new age’ movement. The first generation of Western Buddhists has largely come from the counterculture of the 1960s, and they have brought with them many anti-Traditional values that pose an obstacle to the establishment of authentic dharma in the West. Consequently, most Buddhist groups and organizations are overrun with hippies, activists, would-be artists and other such types who have thoroughly imbibed the decadent and destructive ethos of the modern West.

And so this ethos of nihilism has infected Buddhism, which is presented as the anti-West; as the antithesis of what the West has traditionally stood for. Whereas we have said ‘soul,’ Buddhism says ‘no-soul.’ Whereas we have said ‘God,’ Buddhism says ‘no God.’ Whereas we have said will and strength, Buddhism says pacifism and sensitivity. (Mind you, I’m speaking here of the way Buddhism presents in the modern West, and not of authentic, Traditional Buddhism. The apparent contradictions in doctrine are readily explainable. See, for example, the works of Ananda Coomaraswamy. What I mean to emphasize is why the modern West is attracted to what appears to be its own negation.)

Buddhism has been turned into another string on the lash with which modern Westerners flagellate themselves, along with the revisionist history of the last fifty years which says that America, Western imperialism and white men are the greatest evils the world has ever known. One sees the effects of all this in the defeated, distorted, and at times pathetic characters of Western would-be Buddhists, and one can almost hear the whip cracking as they tell themselves, “There is no God.” Crack! “I don’t exist.” Crack! “My country and people are evil.” Crack! “Others are more valuable.” Crack! It would seem we are the heirs of the Puritans after all.

Buddhism in the West is unfortunately tied to Western ‘Asia-philia’ and the general idealization and romanticization of every culture other than its own, which is the flip-side of its endemic self-hatred. This self-hatred that Westerners bring to the dharma is a perverting and distorting influence. A person who hates himself and feels worthless will not properly understand the teachings on selflessness, and will instead likely fall further into despair because of them. Similarly, the Mahayana teachings on placing others before oneself and valuing their interests above one’s own becomes a ‘spiritual’ justification for the cultural and political suicide of the West.

If Buddhism is to truly take root here, it will have to outgrow this nihilistic liberalism which is currently intertwined with it. We can only hope that there are enough people dedicated to keeping its essence alive, and that future generations will not have to tell the story of yet another great tradition that modernity extinguished.

Copyright © 2009, 2010 Gornahoor Press

Titus Burckhardt, in his essay “Because Dante Was Right,” argues that one of the main themes of the Commedia is “the reciprocal relationship between knowledge and will.”

Knowledge of the eternal truths is potentially present in the human spirit or intellect, but its unfolding is directly conditioned by the will, negatively when the soul falls into sin, and positively when this fall is overcome. The different punishments in Purgatory that Dante describes can be regarded, not only as posthumous states, but also as stages in ascesis, that lead to the integral and primordial condition, in which knowledge and will – or more precisely, knowledge of man’s eternal goal and his striving after pleasure – are no longer separated from one another.

Will is the motive force of the human being, and corresponds to the vita activa. Knowledge refers to the mind and awareness, and corresponds to the vita contemplativa. By using our will and directing our energies toward understanding and spiritual growth, we can bring about the “unfolding” of the eternal truths in ourselves. But conversely, it is our knowledge, or lack of knowledge, which determines how we apply our will. Thus, we may think we are on a spiritual path, but if we are being guided by faulty knowledge, we may only be chasing delusion.

All human beings desire happiness and pleasure, and exercise their will to varying degrees in pursuit of them. But in the ‘normal,’ unenlightened state in which will and knowledge are separated, man lacks knowledge of what will truly bring him happiness and pleasure, and so he exercises his will in vain, seeking fulfillment and stability where there is none to be found.

The sinner and saint alike both strive for happiness and pleasure. But the sinner’s pursuit is based on confusion, on ignorance of causality, and on mis-perception. Hence, he ‘misses the mark.’ He seeks his happiness in physical pleasure; in entertainment; in wealth and fame and power; in information, theories, and other such pseudo-knowledge; and then he reaps disappointment when these worldly pursuits not only do not satisfy his longing, but intensify his suffering. Dante provides many graphic examples of this in the Inferno.

The saint, or aspirant, sees the sinner’s life as the error and folly that it is, for no true happiness is to be won that way. So rather than wander aimlessly on the horizontal plane of existence, and risk descending to the depths of despair and suffering, he wills the vector of his life upwards towards the transcendent and Absolute. There are multiple ways of doing this, as was explained in the article on the Fedeli d’Amore. The relevant distinction here is between the ways of the vita activa, such as knightly service in the Crusades, and the vita contemplativa, such as was exemplified by Bernard of Clairvaux, who guides Dante through the highest heavenly spheres. Both ways are valid and complement one another. Bernard, after all, played a crucial role in the formation and structuring of the Templar Order.

The vita contemplativa emphasizes the development of knowledge, and the vita activa emphasizes the development of will. Regarding contemplation, Burckhardt tells us that “the human spirit, by penetrating more and more deeply into the Divine Wisdom, becomes gradually transformed into it.” Similarly, the human will, by submitting completely to the Divine Will, such as is exemplified in the total devotion of the Crusader Knight, gradually is transformed into it.

[T]he will of him who knows God springs from the source of freedom itself. Thus real freedom of the will depends on its relationship with the truth, which forms the content of essential knowledge. Conversely, the highest vision of God, of which Dante speaks in his work, is in accord with the spontaneous fulfillment of the divine will. Here knowledge has become one with the divine truth and will has become one with the divine love; both qualities reveal themselves as aspects of Divine Being, the one static and the other dynamic.

Or as the Buddhist tradition teaches, the compassionate activity of an enlightened being is in no way contrived, but rather is the spontaneous and natural activity of the Buddha nature when it is no longer hindered by dualistic fixation and delusion. The primordial non-duality of emptiness and form is reflected in the non-duality of the clear, luminous mind of enlightenment, in which “knowledge has become one with the divine truth,” and the pure, compassionate form and activity of a Buddha, whose “will has become one with the divine love.” This is the state described by Dante in the final Canto of Paradiso.

The path articulated so beautifully by Dante in the Commedia is a path that leads from sin, error, and suffering, to repentance, conversion, ascesis, and redemption, and ultimately to wisdom, beatitude, and realization of the Absolute. He makes clear that there are many pitfalls along the way, and that even those who have attained to great heights can still miss the mark in subtle ways, such that the summit still eludes them. But, from the depths and heights of his great love, Dante produced for us a guide to the path, and a portrait of its ultimate goal.

For those interested in studying Dante in the context of Tradition, I recommend the following works:

Henry Dwight Sedgwick’s Dante is an excellent introductory text.

Titus Burckhardt “Because Dante is Right” in Mirror of the Intellect

Christian Moevs The Metaphysics of Dante’s Comedy

I prefer Allen Mandelbaum’s English translation of the Divine Comedy to the others I have seen.

Copyright © 2009, 2010 Gornahoor Press

Much has been made of Guenon’s initial rejection of Buddhism as a “Traditional” religious form, and his subsequent recantation of that position under the influence of some of his close colleagues. It is important to note the reason for that. Guenon accepted the common belief that Buddhism taught “anatman”, or the doctrine of “no-self”, which Guenon rejected as not Traditional. However, he was persuaded that the original and pure Buddhism did indeed teach “atman”, but was perverted by later Buddhism. Thus, Guenon accepted early Buddhism as Traditional, as did Julius Evola. For a rather enthusiastic advocacy of this position, visit attan.com.

However, T R V Murti offers a more subtle interpretation in his masterful study, The Central Philosophy of Buddhism. He points out that the Madhyamika is epistemological and says nothing about the ontological. Thus it denies both the “doctrine of the self” as well as the “doctrine of the no-self”. What is emphasizes in practice is the direct intuition of realtiy as opposed to rational discourse or speculative metaphysics.

But what makes it interesting from our perspective is Murti’s suggestion that “the Madhyamkia Absolutism can serve as the basis for a possible world-culture.” Murti was well aware of Rene Guenon and his use of the terminology of the Vedanta as a vehicle to express Traditional doctrine. A Hindu himself, Murti recognized that the Vedanta only makes sense within a Hindu framework (this is the reason Guenon stated for his decision to join a Sufism group rather than become a Hindu).

Mahayana absolutism and the Advaita Vedanta are valuable as providing the basis on which a world-culture can be built. It is only absolutism that can make for the fundamental unity of existence and at the same time allow for differences. Catholicity of outlook and tolerance of differences are their very soul; both insist on the universality of the Real and transcendence of the ego-centric standpoint. The Vedanta, however, is traditional in outloook and is bound to the authority of the Veda, and perhaps it presupposes a specific milieu in which alone it can thrive. The Mahayana is quite liberal, and it has proved its capacity to accomodate itself to various religious and social structure, to revitalise and absorb them.

This project, if undertaken, would have the advantage of incorporating the techniques and philosophy of a non-dogmatic Buddhism, including Tantrism. Murti does recognize that this won’t be the work of a scholar, but rather of a “spiritual genius”. (This brings to mind Leo Strauss’ prediction that the next world class philosopher would arise out of Asia.)

Copyright © 2009, 2010 Gornahoor Press