Category: Buddhism

A Point of No Return

G’Kar: We stand at a moment of transition.

Babylon 5, “Point of No Return”, s3:ep9

Season three of the science series Babylon 5 marks a big change in the story and especially for G’kar (played by the late Andreas Katsulas, RIP) and his people. G’kar recognizes what is happening and realizes that there is no going back.

In a sense, every moment is a transition. Most are really small, subtle, trivial, with some big ones thrown in. Some of these big transitions are positive (getting married, having kids, etc), some are overtly negative.

Some start negative and become positive: I was laid off, but the new job I got ended up being better. Some start positive and become negative: friends who started out great, but became problems later or responsibilities that get worse and worse.

In short, life is just a series of constant transitions, great and small, and they’re usually hard to spot in until they have already happened. For example, on my way to work, I pass by my old university. I graduated almost 25 years ago, and still visit for cherry blossoms, but year after year it has changed in small ways like the Ship of Theseus. The university I knew no longer exists.

A scene from Fire Emblem: Three Houses

That’s all well and good for gradual, transitions, but what if you are living through a very dramatic, negative transition? It is very hard to see the light at the end of the tunnel.

“I wish it need not have happened in my time,” said Frodo.

“So do I,” said Gandalf, “and so do all who live to see such times. But that is not for them to decide. All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given us.”

J.R.R. Tolkien, The Fellowship of the Ring

But I like to think that given enough time, even dark and difficult times eventually fade…

“It’s like in the great stories, Mr. Frodo. The ones that really mattered. Full of darkness and danger they were. And sometimes you didn’t want to know the end. Because how could the end be happy? How could the world go back to the way it was when so much bad had happened? But in the end, it’s only a passing thing, this shadow. Even darkness must pass. A new day will come. And when the sun shines it will shine out the clearer. Those were the stories that stayed with you. That meant something, even if you were too small to understand why. But I think, Mr. Frodo, I do understand. I know now. Folk in those stories had lots of chances of turning back, only they didn’t. They kept going, because they were holding on to something. That there is some good in this world, and it’s worth fighting for.”

So, when times are difficult, I try to hold on to the idea that time marches on, and today’s kings will be tomorrow’s dust.

The Buddha taught the importance of equanimity, like a grass that bends in the wind, no matter how strong it blows, and this is a lot easier than it sounds when you’re dealing with the hassles of life. But knowing that time marches on does make it somewhat easier.

If you know what life and existence is, think of it this way: it’s just there.

Namu Shakamuni Butsu

The Art of Dying

One thing that really annoys me as a long-time Buddhist is the tendency for self-help and spritual seminars to cost so much money. I saw this advertised locally in my area for weeks, and the starting price for a seat is $250 for a backrow seat, which to me is totally bonkers.

The Dharma, as taught by Shakyamuni Buddha was freely given, and required nothing.

Having said that, as a counter to pricey spiritual seminars, I wanted to promote a concept: the Art of Dying.

DYING?!

It is a simple concept: you are going to die. You cannot necessarily choose the hour or manner of your death. But it will occur inevitably occur.

You do not have to take my word for it. Here’s a Buddhist sutra (freely given I might add) from the words of the Buddha:

There is no bargaining with Mortality & his mighty horde.

Whoever lives thus ardently, relentlessly both day & night, has truly had an auspicious day:

So says the Peaceful Sage [Shakyamuni Buddha].

MN 131, translation by Ven. Thanissaro Bhikkhu

The Lotus Sutra, a later Buddhist text but in my opinion the capstone of the Buddhist canon, describes this using the famous Parable of the Burning House in the third chapter. You can find Dr Burton Watson’s translation here (again, for free!).

But, to summarize the Parable, the Buddha Shakyamuni asks us, the reader, to imagine a great, big mansion that’s old, rickey, and so on. Then, imagine the house is burning. Deep inside, some kids are playing in a room, unaware the house is on fire. The father, having just returned from a trip, sees his kids in danger and calls out to them to leave the house at once. The kids, engrossed in their games, fail to see their situation. Finally, the father offers them great rewards if they leave (specifically carts of goods), and the kids finally come out.

The father, Shakyamuni Buddha, has left the burning house and stands outside. He calls to those in danger, namely the “kids”, to see their peril and to come out too.

What about the burning house itself? That is the world we live in, with strife, conflict, disease, chaos, aging, and death.

The late Thich Nhat Hanh wrote about this too:

“Imagine two hens about to be slaughtered, but they do not know it. One hen says to the other, “The rice is much tastier than the corn. The corn is slightly off.” She is talking about relative joy. She does not realize that the real joy of this moment is the joy of not being slaughtered, the joy of being alive.”

Thich Nhat Hanh, The Heart of the Buddha’s Teaching

This gets to the heart of the Buddha’s teachings: do not squander the time you have on this Earth. It doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy life and your loved ones, but remember: Death will not wait for it to be convenient for you.

When you hear this, your instinct might be the “live, laugh, and love”, indulge in all the fun things in life before it’s too late. But that’s not what the Buddha intended. When you look back at the Parable of the Burning House, the father wasn’t asking the kids to play more, he was telling them to get out before it’s too late.

Further, in the Mahayana tradition, one can get themselves out of the burning house, but helping and guide others to get out of the burning house is even better. One can call such people bodhisattvas.

But you can’t help others (let alone yourself) until you :

  • Recognize the situation
  • Put down your own toys and find the way out before you can help others.

This is part of the progression of the Buddhist path: get your foundations in order, increasing confidence in the Dharma (which you can see in your own life), and turning outward to help other beings.

But starting at the beginning, how does one establish a foundation?

Everyone is different, but generally it starts with some simple things:

  1. Taking the Buddha, Dharma and Sangha as one’s chosen refuge (you can do this by yourself or in a community). You can setup a small shrine too.
  2. Taking up an ethical life, such as undertaking the Five Precepts
    • If all five are too hard, start with one, and work your way up over the months and years.
  3. Cultivate metta:
    • Say to yourself (yes, you): May I be well, may I be free from harm.
    • Now think of loved ones: may they be well, may they be free from harm.
    • Now think of all living beings (even the awful ones): may they be well, may they be free from harm.
  4. Setup a reasonable daily practice. Think of it like exercise or stretching: if you start too aggressively, you’ll injure yourself and set yourself back. So start small, and build up.
    • What does a daily practice look like? Some examples here.
    • A small meditation practice can be beneficial too, but intention matters.
    • Study the sutras. Not self-help books, but the sutras. Commentaries on the sutras, such as those provided by Thich Nhat Hanh are quite good and easy to find in used and independent bookstores such as Powell’s City of Books.
    • Find worthy teachers and communities, not slick, overpriced seminars or cults. Caveat emptor.
  5. Give yourself permission to screw up, then reflect on it, and move on.
  6. Repeat. Buddhism is a long-term practice. “Play the long game“, but also remember you are on the clock. Time is short.

So, that’s your free teaching for today. Thanks for attending this seminar. Want to support the blog? Pay it forward or something. This is “Buddhism on a Budget”, and I strongly feel this is how Buddhism should be.

Namu Shakyamuni Butsu
Namu Amida Butsu
Namu Kanzeon Bosatsu

P.S. apparently this also a band with this name. As fellow PNW residents, I salute them.

Reality Bites

From Star Trek episode “Spectre of the Gun” (s3:ep6)

One Zen anecdote that I remember from my youth, was a story where a student declared to his master “all is illusion”. The master, listening to this whacked the student on the head (or pinched his nose, I forget) and said “was that an illusion?”.

I always liked this anecdote, but didn’t really appreciate until I got older and had more field-experience with Buddhism.

There’s a tendency to view Buddhism as a way to transcend one’s problems. People like to meditate in Buddhism, or do chanting, because they think it will “chill them out” or go into “Zen mode” as a way of facing life’s problems. Once you’re blissed out and calm, you’ll not be bothered by problems anymore, and all will be well. Right?

….. well, Buddhism doesn’t work that way.

Sooner or later, you have to come down and still deal with problems in life: work, food, jerks, illness, boredom, bills, political crises, economic hardships, debt, injustice, broken cars, crying kids, angry spouses, dogs with “intestinal issues”, getting older, loneliness, house chores, the inevitable death of everyone you know, back problems, and so on. The list goes on and on. It does not go away, no matter how much you want it to.

In short, reality bites.

Once you come to grips with this, which also happens to be the First Noble Truth of Buddhism, then the rest starts to fall into place. Until then, no chanting, meditation, prayer, seminars, self-help exercises, fancy gurus, or books will do any good. Not because you’re stupid, or unworthy, or not disciplined enough; it’s because you can’t put the cart before the horse. 🛒🐴

Namu Shakamuni Butsu

Navigating Chaotic Times

VIR: I believe there are currents in the universe. Eddies and tides that pull us one way or the other. Some we have to fight, some we have to embrace.

Babylon 5, “The Geometry of Shadows”, s2:ep3

I really liked this quote from the science-fiction classic Babylon 5 (which I’ve been re-watching lately)1 because it speaks to the sense that many things happen outside our control. Instead, we’re constantly pulled along by other forces, and some of these can be beneficial, others can be harmful, and simply just pull us in unexpected directions. Some of these currents are very strong and difficult to resist, some are barely noticeable until we look back.

Further, we don’t always know where these currents will take us. So, there’s always danger in choosing one course or another.

DRAAL: What’s the third principle of sentient life? It is the capacity for self-sacrifice. The ability to override evolution and self-preservation…

Babylon 5, “A Voice in the Wilderness (part 1)”, s1:ep18

I think intuition is not enough to navigate this mess. One also needs a set of independent principles to help guide one, and that’s where things like the five precepts of Buddhism really come in handy. It’s not a list of “don’t do” things, it is a list of training rules to help strengthen the mind, and benefit others.

Also, clarity of mind.

Rather than giving in to self-doubt, stay cool, and take things one step at a time, navigate eddies and currents, but also don’t lose your goodwill towards others.

At least, that’s how I see it. 😏

Namu Shakamuni Butsu

1 Speaking of Shadows…

Confronting Shadow

Recently, I talked at length about the role-playing game called The One Ring, and I wanted to explore one aspect of it, and its origins in Tolkien’s Lord of the Rings trilogy, namely “Shadow”.

Fan art of the Nazgûl, the dreaded Ringwraiths of Sauron

Because the Enemy, Sauron, is growing in strength in the Lord of the Rings setting, his dark influence can be felt (even if only a little) everywhere, even in happier, safer places like the Shire, the Grey Havens, Rivendell, etc. Sauron’s forces attack some places in Middle-Earth, in other places his spies infiltrate, and even in friendly places, the mere mention of his name fills others with dread. His “shadow” grew longer and longer across Middle Earth. There was no place in Middle Earth that doesn’t feel the influence of Shadow. Sound familiar?

In the role-playing game, when player characters experience negative events, despair, or trauma can accumulate “shadow points”. These points are long-term, hard to remove, and if too many accumulate, a character can become miserable (affecting many other aspects of the game), or worse can eventually have fits of madness, like when Boromir tried to take the One Ring from Frodo. Such player characters may be forced to leave the game, or a player may choose to retire the character before it is too late. The longer one uses a certain character in the game, the greater and greater risk for accumulating too many shadow points and thus meeting a bad end.

Further, when confronted with Shadow different player characters react differently. A treasure hunter may fall into “dragon sickness”, like Thorin in The Hobbit, a warden may fall into despair (“is anything I am doing making a difference?”), or a captain may crave power, etc.

Similarly, in the original Lord of the Rings trilogy, the different peoples of Middle-Earth reacted to the growing Shadow differently. Elves withdrew, longed for the past, or fled across the sea. Dwarves became insular and greedy. Men became desperate and power-hungry.

Boromir thought he was helping his home of Gondor by trying to take the One Ring from Frodo. That’s how Shadow made him go mad: playing into his anxieties, making him feel hopeless and thus taking desperate measures. The Rohirrim nearly gave up too, as Gríma Wormtongue kept feeding lies and despair to their king, Théoden. Gollum’s mind was shattered by the ring and he could barely remember who he had been, and believed he was too wretched to be redeemable.

This is what Shadow does to people: it breaks people down.

But the reason that Sauron was defeated in the Lord of the Rings trilogy was that some people didn’t give up.

Rather than fighting alone, those who resisted Sauron worked together. Individually they were too weak to resist (even Elrond), but when they worked together, they could draw on each other’s strength, and help each other when discouraged. In the books we see Samwise Gamgee doing this countless times for Frodo, or Legolas, Gimli and Aragorn racing through Rohan to save Pippin and Merry. Not everyone in the Lord of the Rings trilogy was a hero, but everyone did something, however small, to contribute to the effort.

Further, even in the darkest hour, people kept going. They didn’t quit, they took another step forward, and another, and another. The goal seemed miles away, literally, but each step brought them closer, even if only a little.

In The One Ring game, during a “fellowship phase” (downtime), you can spend part of your time healing the scars of shadow. According to the core rulebook, dwarves will spend time forging to “burn away frustration”, hobbits will engage in gardening or painting, humans and elves will play or recite songs and poetry. In the books, characters such as Sam and Frodo occasionally stop to enjoy lembas bread, or Pippin and Merry enjoy a good puff of pipeweed after a major battle. It may not seem like much, but taking those moments of downtime do much to lift the soul, especially when it is weighed down by Shadow.

There is much we can learn from this.

P.S. There’s a whole Reddit channel just for LoTR memes. It’s a treasure-trove of silliness.

Autumn Nights in Japan: Otsukimi and Juya-E

In the old Chinese lunar calendar, on the 15th day of the 8th lunar month (i.e. full moon on the 8th month), many cultures across East Asia celebrate something called the Mid-Autumn Festival. This has various names depending on the country and language:

  • Zhōng-qiū-jié (中秋節) in Mandarin Chinese,
    • Tiong-chhiu-cheh in Hokkien, by the way
  • Tết Trung Thu in Vietnam, and
  • Chuseok (추석) in Korea

In Japan, this festival is called formally the Jūgoya (十五夜, “15th night”) festival, but in popular culture is known as Otsukimi (お月見, “moon viewing”). This year, due to the lunar calendar, Otsukimi falls somewhat late on October 6th. This festival is about viewing the moon with friends and family, while enjoying some dango (rice dumplings) using displays like so:

A stack of dango treats, photo by evan p. cordes, CC BY 2.0, via Wikimedia Commons

According to this excellent book on Japanese culture, people also decorate such displays with pampas grass (susuki, ススキ), edamamé beans and taro potatoes. Unlike cherry-blossom viewing, people do not usually get drunk.

Chinese moon cakes, called geppei (月餅) in Japanese, are sometimes eaten as well, though it’s more of an exotic treat. Here, moon cakes are easy to obtain, and quite delicious. Highly recommend. We also get the Korean version of dango (tteok, 떡) too.

In any case, Otsukimi is about relaxing, enjoying the autumn vibes with the ones you love. As my family and I live in the Pacific Northwest, weather here isn’t reliable, and so we often get stuck with cloudy weather. But the image of Otsukimi is still popular. You can even find an emoji for it: 🎑.

Also, fun fact: there are traditionally two days of moon-viewing in Japan. The main one is Jūgoya (十五夜, “15th night”), but traditionally there is also a Jūsanya (十三夜, “13th night”) viewing on the 13th night of the ninth (not eighth) lunar month. This year, 13th night falls on November 2nd. On the 13th night of the lunar month, people enjoy chestnuts instead. Traditionally, people felt you should view the moon on both nights, otherwise, according to my book, you only did katamitsuki (片見月, “one-sided viewing”), which wasn’t ideal.

By the way, there is one other tradition around this time that’s specifically Buddhist: Juya-é (十夜会, “ten nights ceremony”), which is ten nights of observance of Pure Land Buddhist practice, starting from October 5th to 14th in the Western calendar. I usually try to recite the nembutsu a full 1080 times using my old Jodo Shu rosary for ten nights. Easier said than done as a parent, but it’s nice to have a challenge from time to time. Traditionally, people try to attend temple services if possible, or just focus on good behavior.

Anyhow, wishing you all a fun Otsukimi, Mid-Autumn Festival, or Juya-e, etc., or all of the above!

Asakusa Temple Sutra Book

This is the last in a series of Japanese-Buddhist sutra books that I wanted to share. I talked about this Soto Zen sutra book, a Rinzai Zen book and a Jodo Shu sutra book. Today, I wanted to share the sutra book I purchased at Asakusa Temple in Tokyo, Japan.

Asakusa Temple (more properly Sensoji Temple, 浅草寺)1 is super famous, and chances are if you have visited Tokyo, you probably went to Asakusa Temple. Asakusa is technically its own Buddhist-sect now, but for much of its history it was a Tendai Buddhist temple that enshrined a legendary statue of Kannon Bodhisattva that supposedly washed up on shore and enshrined in the year 645. This is called the Yanagi no Miei (柳御影, roughly translated “the [sacred] willow image”). The featured photo above shows where it is enshrined at Asakusa Temple.

Not surprisingly, the sutra book’s liturgy focuses on Kannon-related chants. This sutra book is sold in two sizes, but the contents are the same:

The illustration inside the cover depicts the legendary statue :

The liturgy to the left of the illustration is a form of Taking Refuge in the Three Treasures (san-ki-é-mon, 三帰依文) done in a more native-Japanese style, than the Sino-Japanese version I posted here. Both versions are perfectly valid and are chanted.

More examples below are chants that we’ve seen in older posts in right to left order:

  • the Sangémon (repentance) on the right,
  • Kaikyoge (verses for opening the sutra) second page from right, and
  • the Kannon Sutra itself on the left half.

Unlike other examples I’ve seen, this sutra book posts the entire Kannon sutra, not just the verse section. It’s about 3 times as longer than usual.

Next, we see a classic: the Heart Sutra. This makes sense since the Heart Sutra was spoken by Kannon Bodhisattva, not Shakyamuni Buddha. So. it fits the theme.

And last but not least, after the Heart Sutra is the Ten Verse Kannon Sutra (second from right), and Dedication of Merit verse.

Finally on the far left page is a simple recitation chant of devotion to Kannon Bodhisattva: namu kanzeon bosatsu (南無観世音菩薩). I’ve often used that to sign off blog posts, and unlike more esoteric mantras, this is a very common statement of devotion, much like the nembutsu for Amida Buddha. Feel free to chant it in your Buddhist practice!

Anyhow, this sutra book is something visitors to Asakusa Temple would probably overlook without the necessary background (or religious inclination), but it’s a fascinating look at Tendai Buddhist liturgy, but in a way that’s adapted to a particular temple, and to a particular deity.

Namu Kanzeon Bosatsu

P.S. That covers all the sutra books I wanted to cover here in the blog. I own a few more, but they’re not interesting or unique enough to justify another blog post. If I pick up another sutra book, I’ll post again. But if you did enjoy this mini-series, thank you for reading!

1 The words “asakusa” and “senso” are literally just two different ways to read the same Chinese characters.

The Responsibility of Parenting

Recently, I talked about the autobiography of Sayo Masuda, a former bath-house geisha who suffered a very difficult upbringing. Because she was born out of wedlock by a mother who rotated through one man after another, Sayo’s mother had too many kids and no financial support for them. Sayo was thus sold off as a child to indentured labor where she suffered greatly.

Reflecting back on this, she says in her autobiography:

Even now it fills me with anger: I want to rage against the miserable lives we lead, those of us who are born into this world as blots of sin because of a parent’s irresponsibility; I want to cry out that a life like mine must never be repeated. No matter how deep in disgrace, a human being is human, after all. The human spirit wanders ceaselessly in search of light; and if it finds a light of some sort, it strives somehow to get near it, struggling, writhing in anguish. Yet even as it writhes in anguish, it is drowned before it reaches the light. If you have the heart of a human being and you become the parent of a human being, then even if it exhausts every bit of your energy, until that child can walk alone I want you to do your duty as a parent.

Page 18

Speaking as a parent, I feel this too. Kids are born into your care (through your actions, obviously), so you owe it to them to provide the best possible life you can.

Namu Shakamuni Butsu

What Do You Believe In?

G’KAR: What do you believe in?

NA’TOTH: Myself, Ambassador.

G’KAR: Too easy an answer. We all believe in something… greater than ourselves. Even if it’s just the blind forces of chance.

NA’TOTH: Chance favours the warrior.

Babylon 5, “By Any Means Necessary” (s1ep12)

I have been re-watching the classic science-fiction series, Babylon 5, and I found this neat dialogue between two of the Narn characters. G’Kar is a devout follower of the Narn religion, while his attaché Na’Toth is not.

G’Kar makes a good point: everyone believes in something. Even an atheist believes in something: science and reason instead of faith. Even someone who is agnostic believes in a higher power even if they can’t define it for themselves. Or people believe in chance, or the natural world or whatever. All of these are beliefs.

But then, I wonder: is belief (even Buddhist belief) just an extension of oneself? Is it a way to make sense of the world outside ourselves?

By the way, I think there’s nothing wrong with having beliefs (Buddhist or otherwise), but I think one’s beliefs are a good indicator of one’s inner fears and anxieties. Two people might sincerely believe in the God of the Bible, but each one emphasizes something different, or interprets God differently. So, how much of this is real, and how much is this just a projection of oneself onto the world?

So, then back to the top of the post: what do you believe in, and what does it say about you? 😏 You can learn a lot just by exploring this question.

Namu Shakamuni Butsu

P.S. Featured photo is “best buddies” Londo and G’kar from Babylon 5. RIP Andreas Katsulas (G’kar).

P.P.S. If you remember Mr Morden from Babylon 5, and his question “what do you want?”, that too is very instructive.

Out of the Mud Springs the Lotus

Recently, I reread a famous autobiography of a former “bathhouse” geisha titled Autobiography of a Geisha. The geisha in question, Sayo Masuda (1926? – 2008), lived a pretty horrible life and her story as a geisha is far from the glamorous stories normally told in English publications.

The short summary is that Sayo Masuda was a child born from an impoverished mother who cycled through a few husbands, and unable to feed or raise her kids. So, she sold some of the children off to indentured servitude. Sayo was one of them (she didn’t even know her name until her teenage years). The landlord family who took her in was very abusive and did nothing to support or raise her: she was another mouth to feed, and they did the bare minimum to raise her. Sayo never received a formal education, and was thus totally illiterate for life. Later, she was sold again as an indentured servitude to a local geisha house in Nagano Prefecture. Her geisha “mother” similarly abused her for minor infractions and made her work chores all day to support the existing geisha, until she was trained to be one as well.

The term geisha (芸者) is tricky because it means different things to different people. Much of it has been romanticized by Western media, but also by autobiographies like Iwasaki Mineko’s “Geisha, A Life“, which was told from the perspective of a very high-class geisha working in Kyoto.1 Sayo Masuda, by contrast, was a geisha at a provincial red-light district, so there was every expectation that she would be available for sexual favors and would have a danna (“patron”) well before she was 18. What separated provincial geisha from prostitutes mostly was mostly a degree of refinement and artistic skills (song, dance, conversation, etc).

It was a very nasty and cutthroat world she survived in:

Geisha can do horrid, spiteful things: they’ll attack one another tooth and nail, each trying to force the other out of the way. To someone who doesn’t know this world and sees only the surface of it, I suppose we must appear quite carefree; but inwardly were eternally weeping tears of pain and sorrow.

Page 70

Much of the biography covers her struggles to survive in a cutthroat world, but also her increasing shame as she got older, and felt that was not worthy of some of the kind men she would meet. Her sense of despair, guilt, and hopelessness only increased as she got older, and she wondered if she’d ever be more than a nasty, cutthroat geisha.

Diverging a bit, this sense of crushing hopelessness tied with evil is a bit theme in J.R.R. Tolkien’s The Lord of the Rings, too. People who are corrupted and succumb to evil are those who are most often weighed down by guilt (Gollum), desperation (Boromir), or hopelessness (Denethor, steward of Gondor). Frodo the Ringbearer almost succumbs too, if not for the love and optimism of Samwise Gamgee. This is how evil works: not just through raw force, but also by breaking people down.

But I digress.

Sayo Masuda thankfully did have a happy (though bittersweet) ending where she finally found stable employment in spite of her literacy, and friends and family who supported her.

As I read this, I kept thinking over and over of a famous anecdote from the time of Honen, founder of the Pure Land sect (Jodo Shu) in Japan. Namely, when Honen was exiled to the provinces and encountered a woman of the night. She too lived a nasty, cruel life and wondered if she’d ever find salvation. Honen kindly told her:

“Your guilt in living such a life is surely great and the penalties seem incalculable. If you can find another means of livelihood, give this up at once. But if you can’t, or if you are not yet ready to sacrifice your very life for the true way, begin just as you are and call on the sacred name. It is for just such deluded folk as you that Amida Buddha made that wonderfully comprehensive Original Vow (hongan 本願). So put your full trust in it without the smallest reservation. If you rely upon the Original Vow and repeat the nenbutsu, your ojo is absolutely certain.”

Later, when Honen was pardoned and allowed to return to the capital, he found out that the woman had been inspired to take up the Buddhist path, and died as a nembutsu follower. He reportedly said:

“Yes, it is just as I had expected.”

This sense of redemption is one of the strongest aspects of Pure Land Buddhism to me. The transformation of “bits of rubble into gold” is something that appeals to myself and many others who struggle with teh Buddhist path, or just struggle in life. But the basic theme of Mahayana Buddhism is not just that all beings can be awakened as Buddhas, but given enough time they all will be awakened as Buddhas.

But even going allllll the way back to the earliest sermons (sutras) of the Buddha, we can see the symbolism of a lotus flower growing from the mud:

“Monks, just as a blue, red, or white lotus—born in the water, grown up in the water—stands having risen above the water, unsmeared by the water; in the same way, the Tathāgata—born in the world, grown up in the world—dwells having conquered the world, unsmeared by the world.”

The Puppha Sutta  (SN 22:94), translation by Ven. Thanissaro Bhikkhu

And again later in the Amitabha Sutra in the Mahayana tradition, the Pure Land of Amida Buddha is described in terms of its lotus ponds:

The lotus-flowers in the lakes, large as chariot wheels, are blue-colored
with blue splendor, yellow-colored with yellow splendor, red-colored with red splendor, whitecolored with white splendor, and (they are all) the most exquisite and purely fragrant.

English translation from the Chinese Version of Kumarajiva by Nishu Utsuki, The Educational Department of the West Hongwanji, Kyoto, Japan: 1924.

To reiterate, the idea of a lotus growing from the mud, unsullied by the mud was both intended to show the potential of all beings to awaken like the Buddha, but also the many colors of lotuses (in my opinion) show the diversity of followers from many walks of life.

Namu Shakamuni Butsu
Namu Amida Butsu

1 She also had a pretty high opinion of herself, which was grating to read at times. I seriously doubt her experience is representative of a lot of women in the industry.