Notes on Steve Hagen's "Buddhism: It's Not What You Think," Chapters 1-3

Earlier this year I read Hagen's book on my own. Now, after learning about a local Sangha, I'm enjoying the opportunity to read the book as part of a discussion group. Revisiting the text and having the chance to entertain different interpretations of passages with others brings a special joy.

Throughout my life I have kept some type of journal. During some periods my journals have been quite active, and other times I just jot notes here and then. Recently I've taken to a traditional paper and pen journal in which I keep notes that often find their way to this blog. Just prior to my notes on Hagen's book, I left a sentence in my paper journal: One should never hesitate to be kind.


From December 19, after reading Hagen.
To search for truth we must encounter paradox and confusion. That idea has so many implications, especially on my past work as a therapist and my current work as a college administrator. I so often work with colleagues who want safety to accompany all of our decision-making. As if the novelty of change should come with guarantees of safety, security, and comfort. How can we grow without discomfort? How will we allow ourselves to change if we wait only for those chances that are free from risk?

We engage interpretation to flee from reality--we impose our own lenses on that which is in plain sight. That idea has given me pause to consider how often I look directly at something--a situation, a decision, a meeting conversation--then begin to make up stories about what is being represented. There is a social difficulty in merely taking things as they are...to see the present as the only reality. Which often leads me to cling to the future to avoid the present.

I have a colleague, whose energy I enjoy very much. She has terrific spirit! But, she also has a proclivity to think and speak in "what ifs." Or in, "if this happens, then that will happen." Most of these imaginings are fraught with increasingly complex difficulties. If one thing happens, it will lead to misery, which will lead to more misery, and so on. I prompt her to take notice of this way of thinking and planning, but I also find myself there, too. I wonder how often my risk-aversive way of doing things muddles the path. And, how often I sacrifice the present (which is often my spontaneous intuition) for the unbridled mind. Jack Kornfield said, "the mind has no dignity; it will think anything."

The precepts are not commandments, but descriptions of the moral stance to be taken once we recognize our path. The precepts can allow us to enjoy each moment of the present. When I begin to evaluate my progress with the precepts, I've left them.

Am I acting out of wisdom and compassion? The most present thing we can say is, "I don't know."

There is growth when I throw off the comfortable blanket of interpretation.