Open Enlightenment

Satori in Paris: An inspirational interview with Martin Kovan

If you really want to know what enlightenment means for us in a very real human way, a profound expression of what the ‘enlightened life’ looks like can be found in the recent Being Ordinary podcast: Satori in Paris, where Mike Kewley interviews the Buddhist activist Martin Kovan. It’s the perfect antidote to the current vogue of spiritual blindness, paralysis [1] and navel-gazing confusion [2] endemic within the current enlightenment zeitgeist, and perhaps one of the clearest articulations of how the enlightened rubber meets the road that I’ve ever come across. I sincerely hope this podcast is circulated far and wide. It’s nothing short of inspirational.

[1] The comments to Rev. Danny Fisher’s article Top Seven Challenges of Western Socially Engaged Buddhism, show just how the popular Buddhist scene prefers political paralysis over actual compassionate action.

[2] Such as this recent tweet from Adyashanti: ‘there is no compassion, kindness and whatever else the ego is trying to pull here.. all motivation to “help” others can only be selfish.’ It’s nothing short of embarrassing.

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Building a New Tradition: Part 4

This conversation brought to my attention the vast number of questions that need to be addressed and considered when it comes to developing a community or tradition (or whatever it is), and in the video you can see the very beginnings of my articulation of how I envision this tradition taking shape (a big thank you to Vinay for facilitating this). I hope to flesh out the details (and the language) over the coming months before presenting this ‘new model’ for feedback.

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Building a New Tradition: Part 3

Relevant links:

Governance

Cohousing (also see the UK Cohousing Network)

Holacracy

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Building a New Tradition: Part 2

Relevant links:

Commune movement

The Farm

Stephen Gaskin

Guru

G.I. Gurdjieff

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Building a New Tradition: A Conversation with Vinay Gupta

A week ago I was fortunate enough to be joined in my flat by Vinay Gupta, inventor of the Hexayurt, founder of the Bucky Ghandi Design Institution, editor of The Future We Deserve, and state-failure guru, where we explored the various aspects of organisation and infrastructure necessary to develop my ideas for a new enlightenment tradition.

I video’d the conversation using my Flip HD, which has a narrow focus so you’ll have to excuse my head being partially in shot, and after ruthlessly editing down the talk I can now present the best bits in a 20 minute video.

I know what you’re thinking: without some violence, tits or CGI to hold your attention, you’re going to find it difficult to concentrate for that long. And that’s why I’ve also cut the film up into small bite size chunks, the first of which you will find below the full length film. I intend to post a new segment (of which there are 3 more) over the coming days (it might also make for a more structured conversation around the points made in each segment).

So if you’re feeling brave (or you’re particularly interested in this topic) here’s the full thing:

Building a New Tradition: A Conversation with Vinay Gupta from Alan Chapman on Vimeo.

Alternatively, here’s Part 1:

Relevant links (for part 1):

Lahiri Mahasaya

Earth ships (one example of off grid sustainable living)

Right livelihood

Note: In the video, we touch upon stepping away from a ‘corrupt economic system’. It should be emphasised that this is not a knee jerk and all too common reaction within the ‘spiritual scene’ to money in and of itself; rather, the current economic model or system is what is being called in to question and rejected wholesale. I’m all in favour of investigating initiatives such as the Totnes Pound or even a Resource Based Economy, but exploring alternatives such as these are a natural conclusion if we take a mindful approach to money, our behaviour and the consequences of our spending seriously. Check out Hokai Sobol talking about this topic over at Buddhist Geeks.

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The Joy of Existence

‘Only Original Nature is’ does not mean that the manifest world is an illusion.

It means that all of existence is Original Nature, from the universe to the galaxies to the planets to single celled organisms to fish to plants to insects to birds to animals to humans.

However, Original Nature is not any of these things.

You are Original Nature.

But Original Nature is not you.

Ignorance is Original Nature; but Original Nature is not ignorance.

Sorrow is Original Nature; but Original Nature is not sorrow.

Change is Original Nature; but Original Nature is not change.

The self is Original Nature; but Original Nature is not self.

The opposite is also true:

Enlightenment, joy, peace and selflessness are all Original Nature; but Original Nature is not enlightenment, joy, peace and selflessness.

However, with the recognition of Original Nature, enlightenment, joy, peace and selflessness all arise spontaneously as expressions of that recognition, because Original Nature is, has and always will be free from ignorance, sorrow, change and self, all of which afflict the conscious human being.

(The first tastes of enlightenment are always the most blissful or awe-inspiring, but ultimately enlightenment has nothing to do with bliss or awe.)

It is ignorance that is the cause of the horrors of existence, being the root of all sorrow, loss and isolation.

It is awareness or wakefulness that is the cause of the bliss of existence, being the root of all joy, completion, and wholeness.

Evolution is the diminishing of ignorance and the growth of awareness; with this growth comes the recognition that change is rest, creation is peace, development is complete and life is meaning itself.

Evolution is Original Nature; but Original Nature is not evolution.

This is the joy of existence.

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Lost in Translation

I’m only five satsangs in to my teaching career, but I think it’s time for a course correction.

In the past I‘ve always considered the irreverence for authority prevalent in the West to be a good thing. Authority is prone to abuse, and is often faked; respect should only be forthcoming when genuine authority is demonstrated.

In the past I’ve found the offense Eastern teachers take from the Westerner’s failure to acknowledge position and status a quant example of culture shock. I’ve also considered Westerner teachers who bemoan our irreverence to be suffering from their own power trips.

But then I had never tried to teach before; I had never encountered how easily people’s issues can co-opt a session (to their complete ignorance); how the failure to honour a teaching hierarchy (especially on my part) can allow others to sabotage the time with their own lack of integrity by holding forth with their opinions; how a student first needs to recognise the teacher’s function and their own reason for being there before any real teaching can commence.

I’ve experienced all of these things (and more) in my very short time as a teacher. And all of this is due to my own naivety!

My plan was simple: I would adapt a traditional Eastern method of teaching by holding a weekly satsang, where those wishing to explore enlightenment could come and ask me questions as a means of facilitating their own enlightenment. It would be relaxed, open and informal. As I was just starting out, I thought adopting a donation model would work best: the room was cheap, and maybe if everyone gave a couple of pounds, I could cover the room hire and perhaps save a bit of cash that could eventually go towards hiring a bigger and better venue, or perhaps allow me to buy a few cushions for our sits, or even organise a weekend retreat.

But the sad fact is very few people are interested in enlightenment, many cannot and do not recognise the function of a teacher, and some couldn’t care less if the cost of the room is covered if they don’t really have to pay.

I’ve come to the conclusion that we Westerner’s only really respect one thing: what we have paid for.

About turn

I like to think of myself as a quick study rather than a failure, but the truth is I have come realise that I am doing my students or the attendees to my teaching sessions an incredible disservice by not honouring the fact they are Western, thereby failing to offer them:

a). a structured, easy to digest teaching (perhaps in modules or stages).

b). a structured, formal teaching environment.

c). the facility to pay a set price for a given service. Let’s face it: you’re only going to pay for something you actually want, and if you’ve paid for it, you’ll definitely try and get all you can out of it!

So I’ve cancelled my forthcoming satsangs, and I hope in a short while to return with a series of talks/workshops that will cover my teaching in a structured, easy to understand manner, and with a set ticket price.  I hope this will naturally follow on to weekend and week long retreats.

I have gained a few formal students in this period (and I will continue to accept prospective students) with whom I maintain frequent, personal contact on a 1-2-1 basis (which is a bonus as no money is involved). If you were intending to come to one of the cancelled satsangs, and you are genuinely interested in enlightenment, feel free to e-mail me: alan at (replace with @) openenlightenment.org (no spaces) and we’ll see where we go from there.

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The Last of Your Days

Jennifer Agnew profiles spiritual guru David Todd, author of The Last of Your Days and originator of its surprise-hit television franchise.

Celebrities live at a faster pace than normal people. Dave Todd certainly gives that impression, but perhaps with more reason than anyone I’ve interviewed.

He arrives ten minutes late and is finishing a call as I greet him, but turns off the phone before he zips it into his pocket. He isn’t overdressed. In fact, he seems to be striving hard to create the opposite impression: casual jeans, sweatshirt, and a very lived-in bomber jacket. His tousled hair and five o’clock shadow (it’s only 11:10 am) scream at me someone who refuses to be bothered by what doesn’t matter. Then he takes my hand in a firm, slow shake, and a pair of humorous brown eyes meet mine with a friendly and unwavering smile.

Immediately – of course – my cynical side is on alert to the possibility that this is only calculated charm, but I’m surprised to catch myself actually granting him the benefit of the doubt. A starstruck mental voice reminds me this is David Todd, the man famous for having only a year left to live, and yet here he is, giving up some of that precious time to speak with me.

I scan my notes and collect myself as we take our seats. But something tells me this could well be one of those interviews when the notes go straight out the window.

If someone told you ten months ago where you’d be today, would you have believed them?

‘No way,’ he laughs. (I’m surprised by how unrestrained his laughter sounds, almost like a small boy.) ‘There’s such incredible hunger from people seeking for meaning that responses to ideas these days can be more extreme than anyone would predict.

‘Ten months ago I was just a wannabe blogger, like a million others. Luckily the blog caught on, so a book seemed a natural progression. But the popularity of the DVDs and then the sale of the TV format admittedly took me by surprise. Until now our culture has been completely phobic of the idea of dying – of ourselves dying, that is – so I don’t think anyone would’ve guessed you could succeed at marketing death.’

And yet that’s precisely what you’ve done. Were you always obsessed with the idea of dying?

‘Not at all. I was obsessed like everyone else with not thinking about it, but then I reached a spiritual crossroads. At the time I had a well-paid job, a great relationship and everything, yet I felt truth was missing, you know? I looked around and thought, “What is this? What’s it all for?”‘

A look transforms David’s face at this point. Such a penetrating, contemplative look that it reminds me of the expression on religious statues or in paintings of saints. I have to force myself to remember that this man has made more money in the past few months than I’m likely ever to earn, yet there’s still a strong sense of what I can only call inner peace radiating from him.

Soon I’m going to have to ask him about the criticisms that have been thrown in his direction, but it’s impossible to reconcile them at the moment with the intensely spiritual man who is sitting before me.

‘That’s where the idea came from,’ he continues. (I wonder if the sparkle in his eye means that somehow he senses what I’ve been thinking, and this thought disturbs me.) ‘But then I realised what a powerful exercise it would be to imagine if I were dying – actually dying – and had only a year left. Wouldn’t thinking like that reveal what was truly essential in my life and what wasn’t?’

What did you discover?

(He gives that boyish laugh again.) ‘I saw my life wasn’t anything like it ought to have been if I was actually dying. In fact, it was a total mess.’

That must have been tough…

‘”Tough” doesn’t come close. When I saw how little really mattered and how much was only clutter I began to realise I deeply needed to change. “If I have only a year,” I asked myself, “is this the woman I want to be with; is this the job I want to spend time doing; are these the friends who will give me the support I’m going to need?”‘

‘The answer in every case was, “No.”‘

He seems to catch an unintentional flicker in my expression. ‘I realise that sounds harsh,’ he says.

You’ve attracted criticism for the way you’ve treated people in your life…

He nods. ‘If you do the exercise properly you’ve got to take it all the way. When you practise spirituality you open doors that can’t be closed. Once they’ve been opened then the only way out is through.’

So living as if you were going to die completely changed your life?

‘Yes, forever. I broke up with my partner – which was very sad at the time. I reigned my job and haven’t spoken since to many of my so-called “friends”. For a time I was all alone with no income and no home, yet I still knew my life wasn’t in the shape I needed it to be in, and until it was I wouldn’t be able to say goodbye to it with integrity.’

Some of your critics have said that because you aren’t really dying the exercise is pointless and imaginary. How do you respond to that?

He nods slowly and his face fills with pity. ‘I understand where they’re coming from – or trying to – but they’re not grasping it seriously enough. This is not about occasionally thinking to yourself, “What would I do if I wasn’t going to be here next year?” You have to take it beyond thinking into action for it to become real. Okay, true, I’m not actually terminally ill, but if I choose my actions as if I were then will someone please show me the difference? There isn’t any. But there is a difference between people who think this is about imagination and those who grasp what it’s really about: action.

‘I explain this to my students over and over. Whenever they say, “But it’s not actually real” I tell them, “That’s because you’re not making it real!”‘

What tips would you give people who are trying to make it real?

‘Whatever’s not right, make it right to the maximum extent within your means. For example, if you’re not living in the kind of home you would expect to be in at the end of your life, then move to a better one. If you can’t, there’s always something you can do – from building an extension, to renovation, right down to something as basic as changing the furniture.’

Your television show and DVDs cover a wide range of ideas, such as interior design, health and fitness, and personal finance, don’t they?

‘Yes. The DVDs provide basic ideas, but of course it’s up to the student to recognise what they should change and how. It would be wrong to tell people how to go about that.’

What if they decide nothing needs changing?

He gives a wide shrug and smiles. ‘Fine. Nobody says they’ve got to. But if you’re not making the most of what you have now then you’re sleepwalking towards death. It’s hard to look death in the eye, but unless we wake up and do it we’re not making our lives the best they can be.’

The most difficult part of the interview rears its head and I’m burning to see how he deals with it. So far he hasn’t wavered; I’m still enjoying the ease he placed me in at the beginning. I check our body language: we’re both sitting in an open posture with full and friendly eye contact, and I still seem to have his full attention. Part of me hopes neither of us screws up this next bit, because it would be sad to ruin the impression so far. Nevertheless, I clear my throat and go for it…

You can’t have avoided the media debate over certain tragic individuals who, unlike those who don’t take your ideas seriously enough, have perhaps taken them too far?

‘You mean the McKenny case?’

I was thinking of Michael McKenny, among others, yes…

‘It’s always tragic when someone with a mental illness takes their own life.’

His expression turns serious and I’m reassured by his instant change of mood. It suggests someone so in control that he can flick his ego on or off as easily as a light-switch. Yet the way he sneaked ‘mental illness’ into his answer makes me wonder for the first time if he’ll try to side-step the question.

Some have suggested that Michael McKenny and others like him wouldn’t have killed themselves if it weren’t for your insistence on ‘making it real’. Isn’t that a dangerous suggestion for vulnerable people?

He looks away for a second, and I wonder if I’ve finally uncovered a flaw.

‘There’s a story about the Buddha from way back,’ he says, ‘when it was common for monks to meditate in the places in India where dead bodies were left out to rot.’

His eyes glint mischievously. It’s as if he can’t resist adding: ‘I suppose the Buddha was the David Todd of his day… But anyway, this story goes that the Buddha took some novice monks to meditate in a charnel ground whilst he popped off on other business. When he got back he was horrified to find that the monks had grown so depressed meditating on death that they’d all slit their wrists.’

You’re claiming this story is relevant to the McKenny case?

‘Well, it might be, because I think it shows us two things: firstly that any spiritual practice – even a genuine one taught by a master – can be tragically misunderstood by students. Secondly, it’s a graphic depiction of what our attitude to death ought to be.’

Which is?

‘We shouldn’t surrender to death but must meet it with life. To meet dying with acceptance is no better than sleepwalking. Instead, use death to improve your life, over and over, until it’s the most successful it can be.’

I’m smiling again – and David’s smiling too, because he can see he’s won me over. I realise how his sincerity, above all else, has earned him his success.

You’ve also had negative comments from groups representing the terminally ill, and yet the contestants on your TV show always say the practice changed them for the better.

‘Yes. Because what I teach is using death for personal growth. In a deep sense, people with terminal illness are no different from contestants on my show; there’s always something anyone can do to make their lives better. Thinking about dying of course can make you depressed. If that happens, step away from the depression and change your outlook and circumstances. The person responsible for your unhappiness is you. Death is a gift from the universe; the most wonderful challenge to make your life perfect.’

David says goodbye and leaves me with another peal of boyish laughter echoing in my ears, and it’s odd but for the rest of the day I’m walking on air. Everything is fine. The thought that one day me and all I know will cease to be only makes everything even more great.

It seems that David’s system really works. Whether I’d describe him as a ‘saint’ or ‘enlightened’ is something I’d have to think about long and hard, but no doubt he has something; some kind of spiritual gift that these days is rare, but – thanks to his honesty and acumen – is now very much in demand.

To those critics who carp and cavil I’d suggest they don’t understand David until they’ve met him face to face, because his presence is equally as persuasive as his reputation. Who’d have dreamt that a culture as phobic of death as ours would grant him the exposure he’s won from it? But then again – and this is the hallmark of David’s genius – who would suppose that death itself could have such a sincere and friendly face?

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Permission to Satsang

Over the holidays my mum asked me how my writing was going. I shrugged my shoulders because progress had been slow (as it always is in the publishing world). But then I remembered there was a new development, and proudly announced that I had held my first satsang recently. I’m not quite sure she fully understood the concept of a satsang, but she nevertheless looked puzzled and asked me that if I was teaching surely I would need some type of qualification from someone. Without going into too many details, I told her my experience spoke for itself, and left it at that.

But experience alone doesn’t make a good teacher, does it?

I’ve said it on this site before, and I’ll say it again: just because you’ve experienced awakening, it doesn’t mean you fully understand it, have an accurate and healthy approach to it or that you are teacher material (not to mention that some awakened people don’t want to teach at all!).

Top Secret

A few commentators on this site are students of Shinzen Young, who advocates maintaining a relationship with a teacher – or someone more advanced along the path – regardless of whether you’ve experienced enlightenment or not. I reached enlightenment without a teacher, and I was lucky enough to do so without making too many big mistakes; but I’m not naive enough to think I won’t make mistakes in the future, and so taking Shinzen’s advice, a few months ago I decided to see if I could find a teacher before taking up the mantle myself.

Of course, Shinzen would be the obvious choice (as recommended by his students), but after reviewing what he offered I decided I really needed someone closer to home who I could talk to face to face. After a bit of a search, I came across Mr. X (I’m not giving his name because I’m not sure he wants any attention), a dharma heir to Master Gudo Nishijima of the Soto Zen lineage. Being a big Dogen fan, I hoped we might have a common ground on which to discuss enlightenment. I prayed he wasn’t going to be one of those strange breed of Zen types who refuse to talk about awakening.

I need not have worried; Mr X was open about enlightenment and versed in many traditions (even my own). His enlightenment had been a gradual falling away affair after his life took a difficult turn, as opposed to my three stage awakening, but he recognised that the process unfolds in a variety of ways (although he seemed to take some time probing me before he seemed sure I was enlightened). I was convinced that his awakening was authentic due to my experience of intersubjective enlightenment upon first meeting him, and because he spoke to my experience.

At the end of the discussion, I was quite thrown when Mr. X asked me what I actually wanted. Why had I come to see him? Was I looking for confirmation of my experience, for permission to teach? I certainly wasn’t looking for anyone’s confirmation or permission (God forbid!), and although I arrived at his doorstep with no clear reason to be there, what I did get was an interesting insight into Mr. X’s experience as a teacher.

Mr. X had begun teaching Zazen and the dharma as per his lineage, and although at one point he had a modest Sangha, he eventually decided to stop teaching a group, to close down his popular website, and to carefully vet any prospective students.  He had met too many ‘damaged people’ he said, and his lineage, no doubt thanks to the popularity of Brad Warner, tended to attract for the most part people who were only interested in having a Zen teacher or belonging to a Zen lineage for the kudos. Mr. X was pretty sure he could make a lot of money if wanted to by publishing the couple of books he had written, shaving his head and by giving talks wearing the special Zen robe he had received at dharma transmission. But this to him has nothing to do awakening or helping others get there.

This gave me a lot to think about. Exactly why did I want to teach? To make money? To be a famous teacher? Was I prepared to take on the responsibility of dealing with ‘damaged people’ or insincere seekers?

Mr. X’s advice was to think about teaching very carefully, and to write a book. That way, people would have something of substance.

The Satsang Has Landed

After thinking about it for a long time, I decided that teaching was a natural progression for me (I am of course already writing a few books!). I think there is much more to be gained by sharing my knowledge and experience than there is from hiding away for fear of having to deal with difficult people or their issues (which I already have some experience with after running a popular occult website for a few years). And of course, I can always visit Mr. X should I need advice.

Whether or not I will make a good teacher remains to be seen. And here’s hoping I don’t become an ego-maniac…(I can hear Duncan now: ‘What do you mean, ‘become’?!’)

My first satsang happened on 17^th December 2009 at the Bonnington Centre in Vauxhall, London. 5 people turned up (7 including me and my wife) which isn’t bad for an inaugural meeting on a cold, wintery night in London. I very much enjoyed myself, although I must confess I found the experience a little bizarre, sitting in an armchair in the middle of the room dispensing off the cuff ‘wisdom’ (ha!), but I was surprised at how relaxed and easy the night went, and at how great the people were who came that night (thankfully no ‘damaged’ people!). I hope everyone else got as much out of it as I did.

I look forward to making the satsang a weekly occurrence (possibly starting mid January), and I hope to record the results and maybe post them here for those who might benefit from them.

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The #1 Secret to Achieving Enlightenment Here and Now, in This Lifetime

Authoritarian gurus will try and take it from you; enlightenment doubters and cynics will try to undermine it.

When we choose to ignore the advice of a guide or teacher we dishonour it; when we fail to believe in ourselves and each other we lose it.

The number one secret to enlightenment is not a technique, a special mantra or a bizarre diet. It’s much more human than that.

The number one secret to achieving enlightenment here and now in this lifetime – as I have done and many, many others walking this planet right now have done – is integrity.

Is that all?

Perhaps you were hoping for something along the lines of a pseudo-mystical notion of interconnectedness and an instruction in positive thinking, but then there’s no accounting for taste.

We can all exercise integrity; I just think many people don’t know how. So here it is:

Integrity means that we are honest with ourselves and each other, on the basis that we are all capable, trustworthy and good.

No, honestly.

Do you really believe there is such a thing as enlightenment? Integrity means you consider on what basis you do or do not believe such a phenomenon exists. Who or what is your source for what you believe enlightenment is?

If you doubt such a phenomenon exists, be honest with yourself: do you have an accurate and believable description of what enlightenment is, and do you really have sufficient grounds for believing it isn’t real?

If you believe enlightenment exists, be honest with yourself: on what grounds is the description of enlightenment you believe in accurate and believable? What are your grounds for accepting the reality of such a description?

It takes integrity to understand that just because you have read a few New Age paperbacks you are not qualified to identify the ‘Big Special Event’ you have just experienced as enlightenment; or that reading a few philosophy texts qualifies you to dismiss all ‘Big Special Events’ as nothing but overactive imagination, delirium, insanity, or lies.

We show a lack of integrity when we doubt ourselves, others and the countless millennia old spiritual traditions for claiming that not only does enlightenment exist, but that anyone can experience it should they be willing to investigate the field of spirituality, identify the good teachers from the bad, discover and apply the good maps and models of the territory leading up to and beyond enlightenment, practice a time tested daily meditation for life, and find others – especially those with more experience under their belts – with whom to learn with and from.

Integrity means that you would form your expectations of enlightenment on the teachings of people – both alive and dead – who have displayed integrity themselves. A teacher displays integrity when she is honest about what she does and does not understand, what she has and has not experienced, how someone can experience what she has experienced and openly encourages the discussion of doubts, confusion and difficulties that a student might be facing.

A student exercises integrity when he reports experiences that he thinks might be significant to the teacher, but openly accepts what advice or opinion his teacher gives. It takes courage to admit the inescapable truth that we make mistakes about a lot of things a lot of the time. It’s not a sign of weakness to be helped or guided by others.

It shows a spectacular lack of integrity when a teacher refuses to discuss enlightenment or anything else that a student might encounter, refuses to address or is unable to welcome doubts, confusion or difficulties raised by a student, or instructs a student to perform any action that brings harm – whether mental, emotional, physical or financial – to himself or anyone else.

It shows a lack of integrity when a student is unwilling to address or welcome any doubts, fears or concerns over his teacher’s conduct as a result of it harming himself or others.

Ultimately, if we want to experience enlightenment then we must be true to what we think may have happened, both internally as our practice progresses and externally as we observe our behaviour and the actions of our teachers. Internally, this means not being afraid to try and accurately assess our experience in the light of the many models we have for describing what type of ‘Big Special Event’ might have occurred, but also admitting the limit to which our experience and knowledge can help in such an assessment. Externally, this means not being afraid to openly discuss any doubts or difficulties we might be having with our teachers, or to admit where our own behaviour is falling short of our practice.

Entertaining fantasy about enlightenment or absolute doubt in the reality of spiritual experience are both symptoms of a lost belief in the inherent virtue of humanity. Integrity is faith in ourselves and each other, and without it we are lost.

I have every faith that we are capable, despite what authoritarian gurus might preach, or the arguments made by those patronising teachers who refuse to talk about enlightenment on the grounds that we will only harm ourselves with such knowledge.

If you can exercise integrity when it comes to spirituality, then you don’t have very far to go.

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