How to Start a Buddhist Practice

(In yellow are my friends Kudzo and Nancy from the Capitol District.)

For years I'd admired Buddhist philosophy and studied it, but there was a problem. I felt I couldn't commit to any sort of practice because I knew so little about it. What if I discovered something I couldn't live with the thought of? Perhaps there was something, a teaching, buried in the pages of a book I hadn't read that would make it seem impractical or morally reprehensible? Buddhist meditate, but did they worship Buddha? I really knew very little about it, but I'd even taken a survey of world religions where I'd learned some of these misgivings weren't accurate. But wouldn't I look like a fool if I told anyone I'd become a Buddhist? Besides that, in my twenties I'd even attended a Bible College for a year before it became clear to me that I probably wasn't suited for it despite my good intentions. Even back then I was guilty of over-intellectualizing Christianity and so it's not surprising that, looking back on it, I did the same thing with my study of Buddhism.

I half-heartedly tried meditating. Trying to concentrate on my breath, rid myself of desire, focus on nothing, and become enlightened seemed an impossible goal. Even meditating in the moment without my monkey mind take over every ten seconds caused me to think I'd failed before I even started. So, I started reading book after book on the subject. There were so many schools of thought and so much to learn. But that wasn't overwhelming in itself. I enjoyed reading the books, but after awhile it was clear I probably wasn't going to commit to a meditation practice. Intellectually I felt that Buddhism as a philosophy was right for me, but there seemed to be a lot of requirements like any religion that I wasn't prepared to jump into. Was I going to have to give up all earthly things I enjoyed like beer, steaks, sex, and everything else that made life enjoyable? Would I have to shave my head and wear robes to prove I was serious?

The first person I met that mentioned he was a Buddhist was my supervisor at work. A man named George Dillard. When I first met him, I thought this guy is intimidating looking. He was one of the nicest people I had ever met. He happened to mention that he was a vegetarian and I'm not sure why but I asked him if that was for dietary or moral reasons and to my surprise he affirmed that it was for moral reasons. However, like a number of Buddhists I've met since he didn't have much to say about it and I wasn't sure what to ask. Did he go to a temple? Did he know Kung Fu? I wasn't sure what kind of Buddhist he was, but then I wouldn't have known the difference anyway.

Fast forward about eight years later and I was again very interested in Buddhism. I would go back and forth with it, but I knew I wanted to attempt to make more of a commitment to it. I just wasn't sure which school of Buddhist thought to commit too. This was a major stumbling block in my mind to beginning a practice which is why I'm writing this tonight. I hope to encourage anyone who is interested to simply start a practice whether you know everything about it or not. Just jump right into it. I wish I had been better about this years ago. There are a dizzying array of thoughts about teachings and practices out there. I've read Lama Surya Das, the Dalai Lama, Alan Watts, Thich Nhat Hanh, and many others. I won't go into it all here, but what I will say is that I learned something from each of them and found them all very fascinating in one way or another. But finally I contacted someone who I learned online had a group of Nichiren Buddhists come to her house and chant. There was what looked like a shrine in her living room and people from many different countries: China, Japan, England, and others. There were as many black people as white, and probably a few more women than men there. It was a very diverse group. The man I talked to from China told me later it was very difficult for him to tell his parents he was Buddhist because they were Christian missionaries in China who had undergone a great deal of persecution for their faith. I found this very moving to hear how anguished he was for his parent's sake, but still determined to follow his own faith.

I knelt down in the floor and made a steeple with my hands and heard everyone chanting Nam-myoho-renge-kyo. I didn't know what this meant and it sound a little spooky to my ear. But I tried to wrap my tongue around these foreign sounding words and gave it my best shot. As soon as I started chanting I felt like an electric current was running through my body. Maybe it was just adrenaline from a new experience--even fear that I had gotten myself into something all very foreign. It was all very orderly and they had snacks and soft drinks afterwards. People made small talk. I thought I'd be descended upon by people trying to proselytize and make me a card-carrying member but instead everyone was nice if not a bit reserved.

Over the next few weeks I started chanting, but to be honest I also started finding stories relating to controversies about the SGI and so I was afraid to talk to the people I'd just met about it. I just assumed all these stories must mean something so it wasn't long before I went back to only reading about Buddhism and half-heartedly trying to meditate in other more well-known (to me) traditions, although some of them had also been embroiled in controversies as well. Not that I was afraid of controversy per se, hadn't I basically (off and on) grown up in an independent charismatic tradition? So that wasn't all there was to it, but still how did you choose from so many sects? Well? It's a good question.

I went to graduate school at UNCW and about the time I was finishing up my degree there I began to start thinking of Buddhism yet again. Now, I had an infant daughter. So, I reached out again to another Nichiren group who were very welcoming. I even brought Claira in her car seat with me. I meditated with, again, a diverse group of mostly middle-aged women from several countries who found it very amusing that I had the baby with me, but they were very sweet. One young woman even gave me her own Juzu beads and I chanted with them. I still have them today. This was also in an African American lady's home whose name I no longer remember but she had a tremendously patient spirit about her. Again, I fell away from the actual practice. It made so much sense intellectually, but as a practice it still seemed too exotic for me which is funny when you consider the Christian tradition I'd been in as a young man included speaking in tongues and miraculous healing!

When we moved back to Missouri I became involved with a wonderful group called ShowMe Dharma. I meditated with them a few times too, but then I found mself off and on going back to chanting on my own. It was beginning to roll off the tongue as I practiced alone but still I was terribly inconsistent. During that time I began to find that employers and people in general were not terribly impressed by my MFA in Creative Writing. What's more it made some employers loathe to hire me for any reason. No one knew what it was exactly anyway, but they knew it made me overqualified to work for them. I started teaching as an adjunct at MU and other colleges in Mid-Missouri. While family and others thought an MFA should count for something it was clear that it was a big liability without a published book in hand. The problem with teaching as an adjunct is one that I won't go into too much here except to say that from semester to semester I had no idea how many classes I could cobble together for the next semester. Money was a big issue. It seemed I'd put myself behind the eight ball with regards to getting a job that paid anything that a guy with two degrees ought to be able to get. Small colleges want teachers with PhDs. Universities want people with an MFA if they have a couple of well-regarded books. I was in big trouble. I began to consider getting a second masters or getting a PhD. My wife thought I was nuts. She didn't understand why I suddenly couldn't find a real job although other people in my shoes knew all too well what it meant. Finally, I caught a break, or thought I had when a professor I worked with told me his wife worked at the University of Missouri Press. I interviewed and was hired in January of 2008. I was going to try working in publishing. I'd wondered what it was all about and thought it would be a great opportunity although it didn't pay particularly well but my life had been about books for years so it seemed a natural progression at the time.

To make a long story short, the University of Missouri Press began to lay people off less than a year after I started. Nearly 30 people were employed by the press when I started, but by the time I left there were less than a dozen. This was during the time that the economy came to screeching halt too. Universities all across the country were beginning to question the viability of their presses. Weren't they businesses? Why didn't our press make a ton of money? Again, I could write about this and maybe I will some day but the woes of the University of Missouri Press are all over the internet. These kinds of things were happening all over the country because of the economy in large part. Needless to say, it was a stressful time for me professionally and personally. My wife and I had another baby. We were having problems in our relationship that most couples encounter in one form or another and we were trying to feel our way out of them.

My wife found out she had breast cancer. It was a terrible blow. At the same time, many of my co-workers were being let go or strongly encouraged to retire if they had their thirty years in. These euphemisms for what exactly was happening at the Press were strongly denied. The staff as a whole was not privy to any details concerning our fate first hand, but it was described to us at staff meetings and we could only assume what we were hearing was true. Apparently, people were deciding to leave the Press or retire on their own or so I was meant to understand. I had no idea if I was going to be next or not. It was terrifying in a way. When I was younger, I'd never worried about jobs before. Now that I had a family it seemed terribly unfair. At the same time I was trying to prepare for the inevitable and applying for other jobs like mad. I wasn't even getting interviews. The doctors recommended that Cassie have a double mastectomy. She was only in her thirties. She was terrified. I didn't know how to comfort her or even know enough to give her advice. I decided that all I could do was help her get through it. Again, these are not the details anyone wants to hear about it even if you have been through it. It was a terrible time. I found out that I wasn't going to lose my job. I think the powers that be decided it might be too cruel to let me go given the circumstances. I really don't know. I moved from Marketing to Acquisitions. The work itself was interesting, but it was clear my new boss and I did not get along. He seemed overbearing, not only to me, but everyone in house. I felt I had to bite my tongue because of Cassie's condition. I found myself resenting him one minute and then telling myself to buck up the next. I could only control myself and my own attitude. Still, I struggled, I floundered. I was miserable at home and at work. At the same time, my daughter began to struggle in school. She was not an easy child the school said which we knew all too well. She was very intelligent and wanted her own way, and in school she seemed to be immersed in her own imagination. We met with her teachers and the principal and they made subtle intimations that she should be tested for ADHD. I had my doubts. It seemed like everything was spiraling out of my control.

We had meetings at work where we were told we might lose our jobs by the next meeting while at the same time we were told we shouldn't worry. It was looking very grim. I had taken on the responsibilities that more than handful of full time people had handled before, but without the benefit of being trained by someone who knew exactly what these duties entailed. I found myself eating lunch in the break room and then I'd pace back and forth behind our building and chanting Nam-myoh-renge-kyo. I was chanting for a new job. I was chanting for my life. Nothing seemed to change. Certainly, not overnight. It took awhile. My attitude began to change. I knew I had to take action. I began to get some interviews with other presses, but working for a press that might shut its doors for financial reasons (nevermind that many presses had these same challenges and probably still do) didn't make for a powerful argument to hire me I'm sure. It was difficult for interview purposes to put a positive spin on it. Well, I'm looking for a new job with a press because this one is about to shut its doors like the late great SMU Press for example. Now, I had responsibilities that maybe few in a similar position had, but no official new job duties just a mandate to do more work. A few people had stepped away from (for me) unimaginable salaries and yet there was nothing for those us who remained. There was belt tightening at presses all over the country to be sure, but it made it rather awkward to try to explain the array of job responsibilities outside of the commonly accepted job description for my position. Looking back I realize we weren't the only ones who were basically being told, "Just feel lucky you have a job." It was hard to feel lucky when you knew you might lose it any minute. And, just knowing that so many people had already lost their jobs or were facing the same threat didn't make it any easier to bear. Anyway, it was a real problem. I knew I had to take action. I wanted to take action. I was finally offered a part-time job with the University library but financially I could not accept it. My wife was working again, but that kind of job wouldn't pay enough to cover childcare. It was maddening. I've often heard people say that people without a job just don't work...and if it were them...they would take any job they could get but the reality is much more complex. I began to chant with more and more faith. It was all I felt I had at the time though I had more than I realized in family and friends. People were trying to help me in ways I didn't know.

Eventually I was offered a job to teach as an Instructor at LSU. The only catch was I'd have to move my family to Louisiana. A friend I'd made online, the writer Chris Tusa, told me he would talk to his boss on my behalf. I don't know if he could sense how desperate I was but I knew if I got a job like this I'd definitely take it. I was chanting more but always alone. I didn't want anyone to hear me. It seemed to make sense to chant for something practical on a human level rather than something as esoteric as enlightenment. I finally begun a Buddhist practice under great duress. The tide was beginning to turn. Finally, I was offered a position in the English department at LSU. Chris and Pam Tusa treated us like they'd known us for our entire lives. The people I met in the English department were great, very collegial and welcoming to me even though I was only another new instructor. My boss, Barbara Heifferon, was very experience with running a University Writing Program and had an empathetic heart to help her instructors. I'd even noticed that her emails contained a Buddhist quote under her signature line. Well, as you can imagine, I'm leaving a good deal out here. So what's happening now?

I've been getting more and more into my Buddhist practice. This is not to say it doesn't take much to rattle me at times. One benefit I've seen is that my interactions with my students has taken on a more positive light. Instead of regarding my practice as an esoteric philosophy that began in the 13th Century with Nichiren Daishonin, I now believe this Buddhism is more like a new technology to be applied to my life. Life 8.0. In Nichiren Buddhism, faith is not a safe haven from struggles, but an immersion in real life. It's dealing with life's problems that is key rather than wishing they had never happened in the first place. In life there is suffering as we all know, but it's how you prepare yourself to handle these problems that can make all the difference. Buddhism isn't about contemplating some impossible to grasp riddle, but faith itself is an action. Buddhism is about taking action. The best action to take is to begin with a simple but powerful practice.

This Buddhism is suited well to my personal and professional life too. The Soka Gokkai (value-creating society) was created by Tsunesaburo Makiguchi (a follower of John Dewey) to reform education. Also, the idea of improving myself to transform society is very appealing. This process of hosshaku kempon (to reveal one's true identity while discarding one's transient identity) is the essential process of realizing one's essential or Buddha nature as one's true self. One's true self is to be found via doing Buddhist practice to surmount the lower worlds (or life conditions) and consistently manifest Buddhahood or Enlightenment as one's predominant tendency. All I can tell you now, is don't let a lack of knowledge about Buddhism keep you from beginning a Buddhist practice today. Whatever tradition you find yourself in will be of great benefit to you. To begin the Buddhist practice I've been talking about all you have to do is put your hands together in front of you and say Nam-myoho-renge-kyo.

--I first wrote this for my old blog I decided to share my experience here so that others might receive benefit and be encouraged by my experience.