Resist Groupthink & Make Up Your Own Mind

“There are no conditions of life to which a man cannot get accustomed, especially if he sees them accepted by everyone about him.” —Leo Tolstoy

Nothing unsettled my life more than leaving Buddhism. It was the only community I’d ever felt a part of, and although I knew with certainty that my time was up, it was years before I really understood why—there were so many contributing factors.

stone labyrinth with moss and a ray of light


Today, with the benefit of hindsight, it’s clear. I had to get away from the groupthink. The price of belonging was to believe what everyone else believed, and it had been getting harder and harder to know my own thoughts.

The Perplexing Wisdom of Gotama

At first I’d found the community comforting—all I had to do was follow along—but everything started to change when I heard what Gotama told the people of Kesamutti, “It is fitting for you to be perplexed, it is fitting for you to be in doubt.” He went on:

Do not go by oral traditions, by lineage of teaching, by hearsay, by a collection of scriptures, by logical reasoning, by inferential reasoning, by reflection on reasons, by the acceptance of a view after pondering it, by the seeming competence of the speaker, or because you think, ‘That wanderer is my guru.’”

Does this mean, “Don’t join a religion?” How do you follow someone who suggests you follow no one? And if we’re all deluded, as he also suggests, how are we supposed to think for ourselves? Thinking entirely for yourself leads to wrong conclusions, intellectual overload, confusion, disrespect for expertise, intellectual isolation and arrogance.

The answer lies in the next bit:

“When you know for yourselves, ‘These things are blameable; these things are censured by the wise; these things, if undertaken and practiced, lead to harm and suffering,’ then you will let go of them.

The Importance of Direct Experience

Rather than “thinking for yourselves” he talks about “knowing for yourselves.” No matter how much you think about something and believe it to be true, knowing it is different. Even centuries-old scientific discoveries can be disproven, but when you see that the road ahead is clear or witness the mental patterns that undermine your own happiness, you act on that knowledge. It‘s not theory. This sort of direct knowledge depends on immediate experience and sensory evidence. The state of your body, how you carry tension, how you respond to daily events, what moods you project in body language, facial expression and manner—all reflect your emotional states and the thoughts they trigger. Everything else is just cogitating, guessing, projecting, imagining and made-up. The way to fully know what is “wholesome, blameless and praised by the wise,” is to live it.

So if you start to let go of your reactive habits and become more compassionate you’ll notice that you communicate better—you’ll open up, take more risks. The most effective way to learn not to touch a hot stove is to touch the hot stove. It’s a visceral lesson.

That’s why it doesn’t matter how much you polish your Buddha statues, how many prayers you recite, how much philosophy you debate—if you’re not learning from your own experience, nothing’s changing. Regular body scans are soothing, but the idea that they’ll lead to awakening is magical thinking. Those scans are just practice—a reminder to keep digging, to keep connecting physical sensations to feelings and thoughts, to see causes and consequences as they play out—to know yourself deeply and immediately.

Learning Through Experience

Gotama spoke to the Kasamuttis like this for a reason. Their land had been overrun by dozens of spiritual teachers and their disciples, each one disclaiming all the others, every one of them proclaiming their own theories of life, death and what comes next.

“How to choose?” they asked him.

“Don’t,” he said.

I always imagine him smiling at this point—challenging them to drop the shiny spiritual baubles back in the box and recall their mortality.

So what is the path? What is dhamma? And what about sangha—community?

The Community Paradox

To work in a community without acknowledging the potential for groupthink means denying the fundamental human need to belong, and the mental contortions it leads to. In any organisation—business, political, social or religious—the pressure to conform is a constant threat to critical thinking and good decision-making. Everyone pulling together creates immense strength, but that sort of strength can be rigid. And as much as we love to think of Buddhism as scientific, objective and evidence-based, it too can be a cult. Even scientists are human—ambitious, competitive, envious, biased, defensive. No matter how smart you might be, being fully intelligent means also taking the time to manage your emotions and the social space they create around you.

Weighing & Letting Go

There is no absolute objectivity, but weighing our opinions, judgments, expectations and biases makes us less subjective. We take things less personally. Then, with practice, we glimpse the weight of our emotional baggage and our distorted sense of self. With those visceral insights at hand, letting go comes naturally.


Unapologetic Conversations on Religion & Spirituality

Introduction

It’s been eight years since I last blogged as The Naked Monk. I’ve missed it!

I started The Naked Monk to talk, listen, learn and share my ideas about religion—Buddhism in particular but also Roman Catholicism, which I grew up in. I’m not a traditional believer—in fact I’m not a believer at all, even though I was a Buddhist monk for eight years and, even though forty years later I still turn to the Buddha for inspiration.

My Journey with Buddhism and Christianity

So I’m no longer a Buddhist and I don’t identify as Christian. However, I can honestly say that the two historical figures who have most affected my life choices and my thinking are the founders of these two religions—Gotama and Jesus. I still find the sermon on the mount inspired. The suttas still trigger new insights. But to get to where I’m at today, I had to get past the formulas, the dogmas and the groupthink of both religions. I had to figure things out for myself.

Gotama‘s story brought me a profound sense of purpose not because he was the omniscient superbeing presented by traditional Buddhists, but because he was not. He was just another human being like you and me. The more you study his life and times, the more you see that he was on to something much simpler and more down-to-earth than the absolute truths of mystical Buddhism.

The Importance of Personal Exploration

I‘m surprised sometimes by my own thoughts, but I get energy from comments from visitors—especially hostile ones. I have an audience to challenge me! I feel the outrage when I question sacrosanct beliefs. That’s particularly significant because Gotama did not tell people what to believe. He worked with experience, not ideas, and encouraged everyone to figure things out for themselves.

This is what sets Buddhism apart from all other religions. It’s why many of us came to Buddhism in the first place.

Gotama and Jesus: Influences on My Life

There are literally hundreds of variations on Buddhism and Christianity, most of them claiming to be absolutely true. I think that would make Gotama smile. He explained how preconceptions, biases and opinions shape our perceptions and explained that we prefer to see what we want to see—not what’s actually going on. We deliberately shut it out. Wilful ignorance, he said, is why we suffer so much.

Shoulds and shouldn’ts play no role in Gotama’s path to freedom. The world is filled with well-intentioned people who believe they should be a certain way and yet find themselves behaving otherwise. Some admit it, but most can’t—they lock in their denial with guilt and shame. The idea is to let go of that sort of emotional baggage, not to pile it on.

Challenging Beliefs and Embracing Experience

I’m not just making this up. For eight years I studied the three vehicles of Tibetan Buddhism and the scholastic commentaries known as abidhamma. After returning to lay life I narrowed down my search to the earliest literature—the Pali Canon (named after the language they’re written in).

My colleague Stephen Batchelor has identified at least six different ‘voices’ in the Pali Canon—poetic, dramatic, skeptical, pragmatic, dogmatic and mythic. Putting the last two aside helps shine a much clearer light on Gotama the man.

There’s guesswork involved—lots of trial and error. To process the story I have to explore myself. I know that to accept it as factual is to render it lifeless, but am I interpreting all the meaning out of it? That’s what true believers say.

Conclusion and Invitation

I may not be a card-carrying member of any belief system, but I’m committed. Gotama’s life and times didn’t happen in a vacuum but in a historical context. How did this affect his decisions? His teaching? Not one of my teachers ever suggested it was significant even though Gotama’s central teaching is the dependent arising of all things. I see the man and his mission in my own way. Isn’t that what commitment means?

Neatly packaged answers to existential questions are useless. The only way forward is to accept them as unanswerable. We keep exploring, and here’s the place where I’ll document my findings and musings.

Please share and comment. If you disagree, or if you’re offended by my posts—speak up! I like a good debate, and I want to hear from you all.


The Future of Religion

I have always been tolerant of religions. I think good comes out of them as well as bad. Besides, the religious impulse is a part of human psychology and it’s not going anywhere anytime soon. Live and let live, I say.

At least, I used to. My thoughts may be changing. I was at a young cousin’s memorial this month. The family was gathered in small groups, talking and reaching out to one another. A sad and dignified affair it was until a Catholic priest rose from the assembly to perform the requisite rites. He spoke of a loving God and of eternal life, as if we’d somehow forget that we were burying a 28-year old.

I was incensed. “How dare he stand there and spout such nonsense,” I said to a friend. “These people are grieving, for God’s sake.”

The poor girl had it bad. It’s an insult to her memory to suggest that she’d left sorrow behind; that the misery of her life didn’t matter any more. If I were looking down from her heavenly height, I’m pretty sure I’d feel ripped off. I’d want someone speaking up for me.

With automated incantations pouring from his mouth, the dreary little man in black painted his fable in sunny colors; he made preposterous promises; he made little eye-contact with his congregation, lifting his gaze from the missal only to stare into space at the abstractions he believes in. He knows as well as you and I that life’s as fragile as mist, but that takes second place to higher knowledge, which he finds reassuring.

He’s hooked on it, too committed to admit that knowledge is just as fragile as life. It would terrify him, which is why he’s a terrible role model.

Grief is hard, not bad. Anyone who encourages you to escape it at this most crucial time is simply irresponsible. As a matter of public mental health we need to speak honestly and openly with one another, without recourse to childish metaphors, without tolerating denial. The human race has never been more informed, or more exposed to the world. We’re all growing up. If we’re to move intelligently into the future, our religious leaders need to join the rest of us.

 

In memoriam: Chloe Ann Haboush

 

Fame & Enlightenment

People tend to desire the most famous gurus, presuming they must be the most enlightened.

This would hold true if enlightenment were self-evident, but it isn’t. Who knows who’s enlightened and who isn’t? Therefore, the fame of gurus results from something else.

Those who promote the rich and famous know all about that. Fame is not accidental. It comes from good marketing.

Perhaps you’re shocked to think that behind The Dalai Lama, Thich Nhat Hanh and Eckhart Tolle you’ll find spin. Perhaps that makes you angry or cynical, but whether they or anyone else is enlightened is beside the point. It doesn’t even matter. If you want to wake up, just get on with it. No guru can do it for you.

Dalai Lama Kalachakra Washington D.C. July 15, 2011

Flying Free

FreefallIt’s strange how Gotama’s path to freedom became an organized religion—but then, Buddhism is a treasury of paradoxes.

It’s also a cradle of iconoclasts. How many owe a debt of gratitude to the very foundations they’ve smashed. For twenty-six hundred years the institutions of Buddhism preserved the history and pickled the words. Siddhattha’s human story was turned into trite formulas—noble truths, folds of a path, heaps of consciousness—untouchable arrangements of words that as easily bog you down in dogma as unleash your imagination. Yes, the paradoxes abound.

To be more specific, we owe a debt of gratitude to those Buddhists who work in the uneasy shadow of paradox, wrenching fresh meaning from dry words and usurping the local establishment.

It’s always local. There’s no monolithic Buddhism, just a thousand regional interpretations and communities, each sprouting its own its left and right wings. It comes down to the tension between the conservatives and the progressives, one claiming to own the original and the other claiming it can’t be owned. Gotama himself cut off his beautiful long hair and abandoned his family, driving a knife deep into the hearts of his loved ones. If he were around today he’d be trashed in the tabloids and trolled on social media.

Liberation must be wrenched from dogma

Liberation cannot be guaranteed. It must be wrenched from dogma, puzzled over like a cryptic equation until the simplicity is unlocked and you feel, “Yes! Surely, this is what he felt.” Somehow, it must explain his audacious claim.” Perfect enlightenment indeed.

One thing’s for sure. Breakthrough takes special courage—an outrageous leap of faith in oneself, one that cannot coexist with the certainties of any ancient and venerable tradition.

I’m Back

Change. Sometimes we choose it; sometimes it’s thrust upon us.

Caroline and I have just gone through a series of changes—chaotic and nerve-wracking, but on the whole, good. The result is that we’re in a new house, and I have a new office. In the midst of a world gone mad, all is calm here.

During that upheaval my work also moved to a new footing. Schettini.com has become a portal for daily meditation and a pragmatic online presence. I’ll be offering videos, streaming audio, webinars and online courses. Yes, mindfulness for the masses, I’m on the bandwagon now, but it’s more a widening of scope than a change of direction. It’s about getting to work.

The Naked Monk has continued to attract visitors in my absence, whom I welcome. My newsletter subscribers have for the most part remained. Hi there. It’s good to be back.

This website is more specifically about Buddhism: the theory, the politics, the scholasticism and the happenings. I’ll maintain my stance as a critic from a short distance. Every religion has its cast of players: conservatives like the Dalai Lama, critics from within like Stephen Batchelor and critics from the outside like The Naked Monk. I’m not any old outsider though. I’m an apostate. For eight years I strove to conform, rise through the ranks and become enlightened. You can question my motives, my approach and my goals, but I was just trying to do what everyone else seemed to be doing.

What counts is not what you believe but what you experience

Over time that didn’t sit well with me. I figured the Buddha would have done things differently, so one day I decided the best way for me to figure that out was on my own, away from the believers and the followers. By stepping away I honored the instinct that brought me to Buddhism in the first place: that what counts is not what you believe but what you experience—and how you respond.

The Naked Monk simply attempts to place Buddhism within the frame of the Buddha’s teachings. It’s a great exercise, for it makes you constantly wonder what the Buddha had in mind; you don’t get bogged down in one interpretation or another. Each Buddhist establishment has its own spin, which is fair enough, but the main job of every establishment is to defend its ground, and that’s not practice; it’s politics. Only those with no particular Buddhism to call home are really free to question.

That said, it’s scary to stand on shifting ground and good to know there are others of like mind. This blog has attracted such people, and for all of you I’m grateful. Please write and let me know your thoughts, your questions and especially your concerns. Let’s explore them together.