Is Buddhism A Religion?

christandbuddhahuggingIt depends on who you ask. That is, it depends upon the form and the way Buddhism is practiced. For some, yes, it is religion. For others, no. Those of us that practice  Buddhism as a non-religion tend to look upon those that practice religious forms as good Buddhists who are nonetheless either incapable of actualizing, or otherwise missing the ultimate, non-dual point of the Buddha’s teachings. This may seem to be a put-down, but it is not intended as one. Just as there are Catholics and Greek Orthodox who are extremely traditional and rule-oriented versus, say, a Gnostic Christian who follows the spirit, rather than the letter of the scriptural law, there are Buddhists who are rule-oriented and scripturally bound.

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Is your spirituality Maverick or Custodial?

ChristAndBuddhaHugging

Not Here {by RUMI}

TherGreeningCoppere’s courage involved if you want
to become truth.  There is a broken-

open place in a lover.  Where are
those qualities of bravery and sharp

compassion in this group?  What’s the
use of old and frozen thought?  I want

a howling hurt.  This is not a treasury
where gold is stored; this is for copper.

We alchemists look for talent that
can heat up and change.  Lukewarm

won’t do.  Halfhearted holding back,
well-enough getting by?  Not here.

There’s a shredding that’s really
a healing, that makes you more alive!

For safekeeping, gold is hidden in a desolate place, wheregold
no one ever goes, not

in a familiar, easy-to-get-to spot.  The proverb goes, Joy
lives concealed in grief.

I saw grief drinking a cup of sorrow
And called out, “It tastes sweet, does it not?”

“You’ve caught me,” grief answered, “and
you’ve ruined my business.  How can I

sell sorrow, when you know it’s a blessing?”

Welcome, Weary Travelers

Time passes, everything changes. Be the change we want to see. Seeing is believing. Believing is creating. I create here, and though I may have some kind of intent at times, (usually indulging in my desire to ease suffering and to enlighten, (according to my sometimes hilariously unenlightened perspective, in retrospect)) the truth is, either it flows out, or it doesn’t.

I have had deserts of years, sometimes a decade or more at a time.

Someone once gave me a box full of darkness. It took me years to understand that this, too, was a gift.            — Mary Oliver

At other times, like now, a crash of raging rivers of flow through me, too much content to capture, and I can’t contain it. Whatever my form is able to put into writing, it is a fraction of what is coming through.

It’s hard to have such an intense architecture. So if you see stupidity, cut me some slack. Otherwise, enjoy.