If you're in the vicinity of Bethlehem, Pennsylvania, then you know that the Dalai Lama was hanging around recently. Wrapped up, earlier this week, a six-day "teaching" at Lehigh University, plus a public lecture (see Brandie Kessler's article, "Dalai Lama gives heart-y speech at Lehigh" in The Pottstown Mercury, the paper where I got my start, which ran this nice editorial, "Message of unity needed in the world."
When I mention that I've been to such a teaching (see "Transparency and the Dalai Lama," for example), I usually hear an impassioned, "WHAT was it LIKE?" Over the years (have been to four such extended events beginning in 1981 plus a couple of public lectures), I turn to metaphor because it's not really "like" anything else. As I've said before, I'm not a Buddhist; I'm not a "follower" of the Dalai Lama; I'm not even very knowledgeable about Buddhism or Tibet; and I've never been to Dharamsala, India, where he settled after fleeing his home in Lhasa in 1959. But I continue to choose to sit in venues with thousands of others time and again in order to do some deep internal housecleaning, i.e. detailing for the soul.
The Dalai Lama, the 14th person to hold this title, is a rigorously trained Buddhist scholar and, if I've got this right, there is endless scholarship to learn. Monks, geshes, lamas, rinpoches and, more recently acknowledged, nuns have been interpreting the writings of Buddhist thinkers ever since the Indian prince, Siddartha Gautama, left the reservation in search of deeper understanding of the world, abandoning a wife and child (for which I, and likely a few of my sisters, have never forgiven him).
But, if you get beyond this confusing choice in the life of the person who eventually sat under a tree and attained enlightenment, it's really hard to argue with Buddhism, regardless of your religion, even if the one you're born into (Judaism here) frowns upon "craven images," i.e., having a bunch of stone, wooden, wax, or even lucite Buddhas sitting around your house (ahem).
Honestly, I can't follow a lot of it when the Dalai Lama goes deep into the interpretation. Example: this teaching was about "emptiness," which, just to keep the mind nimble, apparently doesn't mean emptiness as in there's nothing there but rather that everything is connected to everything else, thus interdependent, which means there is never just a thing but rather everything that came before it and all that will come after and everything that it connects to in the now, if you can "catch" the now because as soon as you do, it's the before during which time you were probably day-dreaming about the future. The kind of brain teaser that comes up after a statement like that is this: What came before the Big Bang? Ponder that for the rest of the day and post a comment, please, when you've got it sorted.
That's just a slight toe into the ontology waters - and I'm not even sure the "study of reality" is the way to put it. What always keeps my attention in these lectures is the material around the self - why we behave as we do, why we put ourselves above others, and what to do about it. In a word, compassion. Put others first and you'll be one heck of a lot happier.
One other note to those who are wondering how these sorts of lectures work. In this case, the event took place at the Stabler Arena at Lehigh, a sports facility. The stage was at one end of the space, we were seated at the opposite end, on the side, up a relatively large number of rows. Fortunately, there were two jumbotrons - and, as usual, an extraordinary translator who speaks fluent, idiomatic English. The entire arena, with 6000 people, falls still as the dawn when the Dalai Lama enters, monks, believers, and those who respect the man bringing their palms together and bowing slightly as he does his prostrations and ascends to his throne. Then everyone else sits down, a sea of crimson and saffron-robed monks rippling around him on the stage floor. Chanting ensues in Tibetan for a few moments, though on the last day, a group of nuns chanted an incredible, breathless recitation that captured the essence of Buddhist thought. The Dalai Lama usually then speaks for a few moments in his broken English, without many adjectives or adverbs, without much attention to tense, then reverts to Tibetan, which he speaks for perhaps ten minutes straight, the translator following in astonishing detail, which the Dalai Lama occasionally corrects, evidenced by the translator saying something akin to, "Sorry, not analogy, I mean metaphor."
I have pages and pages of notes from these lectures. Here are a few nuggets from this one:
* It's better to keep one's own tradition than to adopt another's. Different traditions suit different people.
* We're all on the same planet with the same difficulties.
* On a practical level, it's all the same, regardless of tradition: love, kindness, forgiveness, tolerance, contentment, faith.
You get the idea. As I said, I've got pages and pages.
Some thanks:
The Tibetan Buddhist Learning Center sponsored this event, organized the volunteers, and provided a mainly hassle-free experience, given the numbers, the heat, the protestors (yes, there are those who don't like the Dalai Lama, including one rather large national government). Many thanks to Josh and Diana Cutler and friends. Hardly the word. The folks at the Stabler Center also deserve our gratitude. Imagine hosting the Pope for six consecutive days and having him on the stage for two sets - morning and afternoon - or, perhaps more analogously, Mick Jagger. With one exception, a very unhappy ticket-checker, who literally threw a curtain across a doorway in front of me so that I couldn't see the Dalai Lama from a hallway (the curtain was always partially open) and told me to "get out," the staff, including security, were extremely kind and helpful. That angry man needs a lot more time with the Dalai Lama.
And, I can't forget the typical close to these events: someone with an accounting background stands up and reads the financials "as of 2:15 today" (July 15, 2008): Total revenues = $1,138,798; total expenses = $1,110,000, expected to rise by the end, with any surplus being donated to "charities approved by His Holiness in New York City."
Last of the last: if you're interested in understanding the Dalai Lama, read Pico Iyer's brilliant and gorgeous memoir/biography, The Open Road. Iyer's father was a friend of the Dalai Lama and for thirty years, Iyer-the-son has had more than a passing acquaintance with the man. Superb.
And special thanks to the little sangha that came together in our remote arena seats: Julie the choral director, Jeanne the PhD chemist, Chris the anesthesiologist, and Jeff the systems thinker. And to our lunch group: Askold the writer extraordinaire and Richard the professor. And to Anne of the Kindle.
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