Derek's Dharma Blog

A blog about meditation, Dharma and activism

New Year’s Retreat on The Four Immeasurable Loves (Brahmaviharas)


The Buddha’s favourite word for meditation was ‘cultivation’ (bhavana, in Pali); wouldn’t it be great to start the New Year cultivating sympathetic joy, and the other boundless types of love? Please consider joining us in Morin Heights for a four day retreat on what in Buddhism are called the Four Immeasurables: friendliness, compassion, sympathetic joy, and equanimity (aka. the Brahmaviharas). The Teaching will be free.


Retreat starts Thursday Jan. 2nd 10am till lunch Sunday, Jan. 5th, 2014.
All are welcome.
There is limited accommodation at the Dharma House (for a nominal fee $20/pers/night), and other accomodation like B+Bs close nearby. There are also two nice sauna/spas down the street. The retreat is open to newcomers and experienced meditators; it will be offered in ‘social silence’ (that is: silent without being oppressively so); meals and non-class time will be in silence.
Food should either be brought or prepared on site with the possibility of shared pot-luck style meals. Marche Vaillencourt, a lovely grocery store is a 1/2 block walk down the street.

Please contact Jane if you are planning to attend  or if you have any questions:

Jane Marenghi (450) 226-6453

If you want to join us, it would be ideal if you can come at the beginning rather than part way through so as to get the benefit of easing into the experience with the group. However, if that is not possible, do not hesitate to come at the time that works in your schedule but be aware that social silence might then be well in progress and will need to be respected.

Classes in the Theravada (Burmese) and Tibetan Buddhist tradition will be offered by Derek.  The Teaching is free.

Donations (dana) will be accepted according to tradition.

November 18, 2013 Posted by | Uncategorized | , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Depression, meditation, friendship

One of my closest friends from Buddhist seminary school was telling me about being on retreat recently.  In the group discussion that followed the end of the retreat she mentioned that she had been depressed. But she almost didn’t mention it because as a long-term meditator she was so embarrassed to admit to being susceptible to depression.  “We’re all supposed to be past all that; all ‘fixed’ up; but that’s not how I feel,” she said. “And somehow this makes me feel like I’ve failed.”

The teacher thanked her for her bravery in speaking up.

He admitted that he had also struggled with depression and that he’d found it extremely difficult to find dharma folks to talk to about it; because depression is one of the biggest taboos in dharma circles.

I was in the magazine store in Ottawa yesterday when this tiny article from the Spring 2013 issue of Buddhadharma Magazine jumped out at me. A short beautiful piece by Hozan Alan Senauke, called “In the Darkest Moments”. Alan is a priest and vice-abbot at the Berkeley Zen Center, and he writes with naked honesty about depression and its antidotes: what works and what doesn’t.  Alan concludes that meditation works, but if meditation can’t help, then friendship works best.

A slightly longer version of his piece appeared in the Fall 2012 issue of Inquiring Mind.

Here t’is….

“Tangled Up In Blue” by Hozan Alan Senauke


As for me, after nearly thirty years of meditation I have come to no great enlightenment. I haven’t seen the cosmic light shows or transcendental visions of reality. This is not to say I do not feel changed or even free and joyful at times. But freedom is momentary. I appreciate it for what it is. I just don’t stay there, and that is okay with me. That’s a loaded word—”stay.” In terms of the law of anicca or impermanence, one does not stay anywhere. But I digress.

What I mean to say is that I have come to think that given my propensity toward depression—biochemical, hereditary, or karmic—the settledness of meditation, the sense of relief in just sitting down, may be as good as it gets for me. There is a phrase I love from Eihei Dogen, in our Zen tradition: “When Dharma fills your body and mind, you realize that something is missing.” That is, the very incompleteness of our being, actions, aspirations, is a manifestation of Buddhanature itself. Everything is broken. No regrets.


Over the years I have tried to ‘deal with’ (that means get rid of) depression in various ways. I have done talk therapy and acupuncture. I’ve sampled organic remedies like St John’s wort, SAME-e, homeopathy, and most recently, Vitamin D. I have been on and off a modest amount of fluoxetine (Prozac).  Actually, Prozac seemed to work for a while.  When I began to take it—twenty years ago, on the advice of my therapist and in consultation with a psychiatrist—it was as if a dark cloud that had always circled my head just disappeared. It was a great and joyous relief. But the relief seemed to be only temporary.


So I return to what I trust, meditation—and to that other reliable remedy: friendship. Actually, the two are not unrelated. Meditation is not a cure, but if I can sit down in a quiet space and follow my breath, the weight of depression usually lifts while I am sitting. If sitting is not possible, I will take a long walk. Either way I have bridged the internal disconnect; I am, for this time, friendly toward myself.

The power of friendship multiplies when extended beyond oneself. I keep in mind E. M. Forster’s famous epigraph to Howards End: “Only connect.” In the darkest moments, when I feel least able to do so, I know this is necessary and true. So I leave my room and seek a friend. In depression, friendship is an alkahest—the alchemist’s universal solvent that brings forth light and energy. It’s the best remedy.

Thank you Alan.

Joan Tollifson has been writing recently on her facebook page about depression and dharma.

Wonderful posts and reflections.

She apparently stumbled onto Alan’s piece too. Here’s part of what she says…

“I found (Alan’s) article deeply enlightening. Enlightening because it offers no big, splashy promises of a life filled with continuous bliss and flashing blue lights, but instead, something so simple and real. I loved Alan’s honesty, his humility, and his settledness in the ordinary (which is truly the extraordinary). The Zen practice he embodies is about being right here with life as it is.”

“It makes me very happy to see that more and more teachers seem willing to openly acknowledge and reveal their own humanness and brokenness—their on-going struggles with depression, anxiety, addiction, jealousy, anger, or whatever it might be. We tend to idolize and idealize spiritual teachers, wanting to believe that they are perfect and that maybe someday we will be perfect. Disillusionment is often a hard lesson, but it can be the greatest lesson of all, when we discover the teacher’s imperfections and understand that no one else can save us. […]”

“I wish we could all get beyond the Final Enlightenment Mythology and the Awakened Person Mythology in which we imagine that we (or others) have crossed some finish line and arrived at some final place where all problems have been permanently solved. …”

Amen Sister.

And one more story….

Several years ago, I went down to Berea, Kentucky to a small Christian College, to meet Ivan Illich. Illich gave a public talk to maybe 200 students and activists from the area. Illich had abandoned the podium and climbed down from the stage. He said he refused to use the microphone because it privileged one voice above the many and thus this technology was inherently anti-democratic.  Preferring instead to speak with his unamplified voice, he stood and spoke to us from the first row of seats in the auditorium. We all moved in closer to hear him.

After the hour-long talk, he said there was a time for a few questions…

An African-American woman in the third row stood up, “Given the difficulty of improving things in society, and given how often there is frustration and failure, how do we keep from despair? How do we keep going?” she asked.

Illich didn’t have a pat answer.

There was a long pause while he considered her question. Time passed.

We all waited quietly.

Then Illich motioned to Lee Hoinecki, his best friend, who was sitting in the front row.

Lee got up and went to stand beside Ivan.

Ivan gently leaned into Lee and put an arm around his shoulders.

He smiled at the woman who had asked the question.

Then he said one word:


March 6, 2013 Posted by | Uncategorized | , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 4 Comments

The Science of Loving-Kindness Meditation

Let’s talk about meditate on love…

It was a rare opportunity: one of the world’s top brain researchers and one of the most esteemed Buddhist monks in the room at the same time, talking about the effects of loving-kindness and compassion meditation on the brain. Here’s my report from this first-of-its kind course offered by the University of Minnesota last month, a summary of the latest findings on neuroscience and meditation.

Meditating on love and compassion leads to a sharp increase in brain gamma-waves, a significant decrease in inflammation, and a significant increase in immune system response.

These are just a few of the results that physiological tests and fMRI scans have revealed in long-term and beginner meditators who meditate on love and compassion for all beings. Dr. Richard Davidson (“Richie”) from the University of Wisconsin shared these compelling findings from the rigorous peer-reviewed research done at their ‘Centre for the Study of Healthy Minds’.  He and his talented group of grad students use a functioning Magnetic Resonance Imaging system (fMRI) to take ‘snapshots’ of brain activity of veteran and novice meditators. One of the veteran test subjects (logging between 10,000-50,000 hours of meditation) is Tibetan Buddhist monk Matthieu Ricard, who was the other presenter for the course in Minneapolis, and the meditation leader for the 400 of us who attended. (BTW, I talked to over two dozen of these folks during breaks, and although hardly a representative sample, it’s interesting to note that almost all were non-Buddhist, many were Catholic, and over half were health professionals—mostly nurses).

Science and meditation’s shared goal: an unfabricated understanding of reality

Richie’s opening comments set the theme:

“Science is dedicated to investigating reality in a radically honest way; Dharma uses different methods, but the aim is the same: an unfabricated understanding of reality.”

“In our research lab in Madison, dedicated to contemplative neuroscience, we have a meditation space for 25 people where we do weekly sittings”, said Davidson, while his projector showed us a slide of the lab’s futuristic meditation pod that looked like something from Star Trek.

“We feel this type of meditation training should be available to scientists who wish to study the mind.”

His senior researcher, Antoine Lutz, didn’t attend the course, he was away on 6-week meditation retreat.   It was cool to hear Davidson say, “we need a very different model for training grad students, one that allows them to do meditation as part of their school work”.  Davidson said retreat work should not be viewed as a luxury but as a necessity.

His co-presenter Matthieu Ricard, is no stranger to retreat work, having done over a decade of secluded practice in Nepal under the supervision of the esteemed meditation master Dilgo Khyentse Rinpoche.  Ricard reminded us that our motivation during the course should be to “above all, to gain the capacity to free beings from suffering”.

“The Buddha’s first talk after his enlightenment linked suffering to a distorted view of reality”, said Ricard.

“So unfortunately, people think Buddhism is all about suffering – as if a doctor was a pessimist for looking at your illness.” 

“But the Buddha was not merely describing obvious suffering, he wasn’t speaking about toothaches or war, we don’t need the Buddha to figure that stuff out.”

“What he really was referring to was the suffering of change; that if a situation is wonderful, we grasp at it and want it to be permanent and so really the most important invisible and deep cause of suffering is our distorted perception of reality.”

“Wanting things to be permanent and thinking that reality is made up of independent autonomous entities, which leads us to reify reality, this causes us to suffer, because it leads us to hope, reject, fear, and so on.”

Socioeconomic background can affect perception

Davidson then chimed in with an example from Jerome Bruner’s earlier research on how socioeconomic background affects perception.  Bruner had found that when asked to draw from memory five or ten cent pieces, children from poorer backgrounds judged them to be physically bigger than children from wealthy backgrounds.

“These distortions are potential targets for contemplative practice” said Ritchie.

“Meditation can help diminish these biases so that our perception is less confounded, or at least so we become aware of the bias.”

At this point Ricard reminded us that although many of our projections and perceptions may distort reality, as Dharma practitioners the ones we must address are the distortions that cause suffering.  We attach one of three view-points to every object we perceive:  pleasant, unpleasant, neutral – these labels clearly do not belong to the object.  But these viewpoints need not cause us suffering in and of themselves.  They only cause us to suffer if we believe this quality to be permanent and if we try to grasp or reject the object because of the label.

“A physically beautiful person may be an object of attraction to another person,” said Ricard, “but to a tiger they are a meal!” (laughter) “And to a bacterium, they are an entire environment!”

“The classic example is stepping on a rope in the dark: if your mind instantly jumps to label it ‘Snake!’, then you get the follow-on emotions of anxiety and fear.”

“However, when you turn the light on, the distortion in your perception is removed and you relax, ahhh.”

“But when you turned that light on, did you change the rope in some fundamental way? No. Turning the light on does not change the nature of the rope. You didn’t get rid of some permanent identity of the rope nor did you get rid of some aspect of yourself, you just unmasked and resolved a distortion that you had superimposed on reality.”

Not all distortions are problematic (cause suffering)

Davidson said, “From a Buddhist perspective, it’s not necessary that we unmask every distortion in our perception because in some cases, these distortions are the optimal way the mind has for functioning in the world.”  “Think of parallel lines, of railway tracks, receding into the distance.  We know they don’t touch, but to our vision it looks like they do.  But this distortion isn’t causing us any suffering.  In fact, some distortions may help you function in reality.”

“So the only distortions we want to address are the ones that are obstacles to happiness.”

“For example, cravings and aversions that emerge from our reification of reality.  Buddhism doesn’t pretend that our perception will ever be perfect.  It is just concerned about valid cognition that removes suffering.”

“Like with the parallel lines example, we can be aware that our perception is wrong but that needn’t prevent us from still having valid cognition.  We can interact with an object without thinking ‘That thing (or person) is intrinsically mine and is permanent.’

OK, so that gives you a bit of a taste of the morning intro; after that, we moved on to the science.

A short crash-course on the human brain

Davidson began his crash-course on the geography of the brain illustrating why ‘the human brain is the most complicated piece of matter on the planet.”

It contains over 100,000 neuronal phenotypes (different types of cells).  There are 85,000,000,000 neurons in the brain.  The number of connections between these neurons is 10 to 14th power, a number Davidson challenged us to start writing out and see if we could finish before the end of the day.  “This is an unfathomable complexity with a potentially unbounded number of mental states,” he pointed out.

One cubic millimeter of brain contains 20,000 to 30,000 neurons.

1 cubic mm of brain contains 4 km of nerve fibers

This one floored me: “1 cubic millimeter contains 4 kilometers of axons (nerve fibers) and 10 to the 9th power synapses.”

“But our best imaging so far only goes down to 5 cubic millimeters of brain.”

“The white matter of our brains is largely made up of myelinated axons (myelin is the fatty tissue around the axon which insulates it from other axons and enables it fast and efficient connectivity – something found only in vertebrates).

“A lot of information in the brain is not fixed but is represented in this structural and functional connectivity and it’s this connectivity which we constantly, wittingly or unwittingly, change thru our habitual mental patterns.”

And this might worry you as much as cheer you up: “as little as two hours of repetitive activity changes connectivity in the brain.”

Using powerpoint Davidson outlined the different lobes and parts of the brain and their functions.  One area of great interest is a thin layer of brain right at our forehead, an area of the frontal polar cortex known as ‘Broadman’s area’ which is the most dramatically increased part of the brain mass in humans, something that differentiates us from our primate cousins.  It seems to be related to interpreting internal experience.

How does meditation change the brain?

Another area of interest to scientists and meditators is the amygdala, a small section in the center of the brain which seems to control the intensity and duration of how long a negative emotion like fear or anxiety can ‘highjack’ the brain.  In one study that looked at mindfulness practice and altruism, after 8 weeks of mindfulness meditation, the physical volume of the amygdala shrank significantly in meditators, and the amygdala recovery time quickened.  What this meant was meditators had less emotional stickiness.  They recovered more quickly from the kinds of emotional reaction which spill over and color subsequent moments of experience. 

But this wasn’t the same for all types of meditation: compassion and loving-kindness meditation correlated with the biggest changes in the amygdala.  When presented with images of human suffering, the anxiety  or emotional stickiness signaled in the amygdala was lower in those who had done one full day of compassion or loving kindness meditation versus those who had done one full day of ‘open awareness meditation’.

How does meditation change the body?

In another experiment, compassion meditation was taught to adolescents in a foster home for an increasing number of hours.  The ones who did no practice showed no change but the ones who did at least 30 minutes a day showed a reduction in C-reactive protein and pro-reactive cytokines—protein indicators of inflammation and potential susceptibility to disease.  And the teens who did more meditation experienced a greater reduction. So even for novice meditators living in a stressful situation, there was physiological improvement with as little as two weeks practice, 30 minutes a day.

In another test, university students were divided into two groups. One group did not meditate, while the other group was taught to do 30 minutes of meditation per day for two weeks, a period of time which happened to overlap with them getting their flu shots. When their blood was tested, the meditating students showed a statistically significant increase in flu antibodies over the non-meditators.

The science of meditating on love and compassion

I thought it was interesting that most of the research by Davidson and his colleagues focuses on the effects of meditating on love and compassion, two of the four positive states developed in the classic ‘boundless’ or ‘divine abodes’ meditations in Buddhism.  These 4 ‘immeasurable’ practices, also known as the ‘Brahma Viharas’, have not been given as much emphasis in the Western meditation community as ‘mindfulness’ and insight (vipassana) practices.

When it came to further areas of research yet to be developed, Davidson identified the third positive boundless state, sympathetic joy, as something he hoped would garner some attention.  Sympathetic joy (‘mudita’ in Sanskrit) is the joy we feel when we perceive the happiness or success of others.  Davidson felt sympathetic joy would be a great skill to cultivate among scientists working in a competitive research environment to replace their tendencies towards envy and jealousy when their colleagues make breakthroughs.

Meditating on compassion increases your readiness to act

The afternoon continued with reports on the results of f-MRI brain imaging of long-term meditators.  Davidson’s lab has built up a cohort of research subjects, monks, nuns, and lay people, 50% men and 50% women, with over 10,000 hours (3 years) of meditation experience (the average is 34,000 hours in formal practice: all have completed a minimum of one 3-year retreat).

When long-term practitioners meditate on compassion the main effect observed is a huge increase in gamma wave activity – higher than ever reported in any other study.   Gamma waves are high frequency brain waves that indicate a huge number of neurons operating in a synchronized fashion.  For those who had meditated for long term on compassion, there was dramatic increase in brain activity in the insula (responsible for emotion) and the temporoparietal junction (responsible for empathy). But what surprised Davidson and his colleagues were the fMRI scans that also showed a dramatic increase in the brain region responsible for planned movement.  He and  Ricard theorized that compassion meditation increases the brain’s ‘total readiness to act, to help’ to jump into action to alleviate suffering.  And the more compassion meditation a practitioner had done, the greater were the changes observable in the brain.

As little as 8 minutes produces a result

Davidson was then asked the obvious question, “OK—What’s the lowest dose that produces a result?”

“8 minutes among non-practitioners was enough to produce significant physiological and mental changes”  he answered.  And what was most encouraging, is he said that it seems that at the beginning stages, among novice meditators, there’s a very strong connection between the amount of meditation practice and the amount of biological change.  In other words, especially when you first start meditating, that’s when you make a lot of positive changes in the brain.

So how do we meditate on boundless loving-kindness?

And so now the attendees wanted to know: ‘How do we do it?  What is the simple prescription for this meditation?’

Here’s an outline of the simple instruction for boundless loving kindness practice that they have been using in their research.

Start by cultivating a strong feeling of loving kindness in your own being.  Feel this loving-kindness viscerally, tangibly, permeating your whole body.  Once this feeling of loving kindness is strongly, emotionally and physically present, then imagine it radiating out to all beings without holding it back from anyone.  So this feeling of loving kindness permeates all plants, animals, people in all directions, in front, to the sides, behind, above and below.  If it diminishes, go back to the beginning, replenish the feeling in your own being and body and imagine it radiating out without limit.  This is what the poet Rumi described as an ocean with no outer shore. (Eventually the experience broadens to a realization that there is no inner shore either.) This is the ‘directional method.’

A second method works with ‘categories of people’. It starts the same way, with a strong feeling of loving kindness permeating your own being; then you imagine it radiating out to your teachers and benefactors, your friends, family, and loved ones. Then to ‘neutral people’ (people you don’t know very well); and then finally you visualize this loving-kindness radiating out to difficult people, people you may not get along with.

Do this for 30 minutes, or longer if you can (increased physiological and brain improvements are linked to increased practice time ).

What if you don’t feel much love in your own being to start with?

Then start with a spiritual teacher, benefactor, parent or grandparent, or some source of unconditional love. Imagine their love flowing into you and filling you up until ‘your cup overfloweth’ and you feel that you can radiate this kindness out to others. (It’s worth noting that Buddhist teachers Jack Kornfield , Pema Chodron, and Sharon Salzberg caution that some meditators–Westerners particularly–may need to do this ‘self-generation’ of loving-kindness for a year or more, before moving on the  ‘radiating outward’ stage.).

It’s unfortunately quite common for people to feel that they have no human being in their experience who represents this wellspring of love; then we are advised to start with a pet: many people report that they start by meditating on the love they feel from their dog.  “Start with Fido,” advises Pema Chodron in her retreat CD on the four immeasurables.  And if you really feel that there is no person or animal you can refer to as a source of unconditional love, then the classic meditation object you reflect on is the sun: the warmth from the sun.


For those that are interested, there is a lot more about all this research in Davidson’s book The Emotional Life of Your Brain (2012), particularly Chapter 10. Citations for the research above can be found here, and here.

Also check out the 45 minute presentation he gave at the Dalai Lama Centre in Vancouver earlier this year.  Davidson and Ricard also previewed some of this material in 1 hour talks they gave at Google and at the Aspen Institute from 2007-2011; links here –

Prof. Richard Davidson: Transform Your Mind, Change Your Brain (2009)

Ven. Matthieu Ricard: Change your Mind Change your Brain (2007)

Prof. Richard Davidson et al: The Neuroscience of Happiness (2011)

November 15, 2012 Posted by | Uncategorized | , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 4 Comments

Top US Scientist James Hansen in NY Times: Tar Sands = “Game Over for the Climate”

James Hansen, who heads the NASA Goddard Institute for Space Studies in New York City, wrote an amazingly straightforward op-ed piece in the New York Times yesterday….surprisingly, when you google for it only 5 hits come up. It’s hard to find the complete text, so in case you haven’t seen it, here it is (below), unedited.

Meanwhile the day before, Canada’s Anti-Environment minister Peter Kent, lied about “foreign” money dominating environmental groups (his comments were exposed as lies by Canadian Press —-while the tar sands are, in fact , effectively owned by foreign interests (who share in $1.4 billion a year of subsidies from Cdn taxpayers)

“71 per cent of the ownership of oilsands production was foreign, while the foreign-based companies controlled 24.2 per cent of the sector’s production.” Vancouver Sun, May 11, 2012

In a wonderful piece titled “Our Generation’s Quiet Awakening must be Green and Red“, the Youth Climate Coalition wrote this week: “We need to end the reign of oil in Ottawa, and its influence in Quebec city. The federal government now hands-out $1.4 billion a year to the world’s richest and most polluting oil companies, when such a hand-out to students could begin a system of free education in Quebec and across Canada.” (Just in case you think this sounds fanciful: Norway used its resource wealth to fund free university education for all….)

***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** *****

Game Over for the Climate


Published in the New York Times: May 9, 2012

GLOBAL warming isn’t a prediction. It is happening. That is why I was so troubled to read a recent interview with President Obama in Rolling Stone in which he said that Canada would exploit the oil in its vast tar sands reserves “regardless of what we do.”

If Canada proceeds, and we do nothing, it will be game over for the climate.

Canada’s tar sands, deposits of sand saturated with bitumen, contain twice the amount of carbon dioxide emitted by global oil use in our entire history. If we were to fully exploit this new oil source, and continue to burn our conventional oil, gas and coal supplies, concentrations of carbon dioxide in the atmosphere eventually would reach levels higher than in the Pliocene era, more than 2.5 million years ago, when sea level was at least 50 feet higher than it is now. That level of heat-trapping gases would assure that the disintegration of the ice sheets would accelerate out of control. Sea levels would rise and destroy coastal cities. Global temperatures would become intolerable. Twenty to 50 percent of the planet’s species would be driven to extinction. Civilization would be at risk. That is the long-term outlook.

But near-term, things will be bad enough. Over the next several decades, the Western United States and the semi-arid region from North Dakota to Texas will develop semi-permanent drought, with rain, when it does come, occurring in extreme events with heavy flooding. Economic losses would be incalculable. More and more of the Midwest would be a dust bowl. California’s Central Valley could no longer be irrigated. Food prices would rise to unprecedented levels.

If this sounds apocalyptic, it is. This is why we need to reduce emissions dramatically. President Obama has the power not only to deny tar sands oil additional access to Gulf Coast refining, which Canada desires in part for export markets, but also to encourage economic incentives to leave tar sands and other dirty fuels in the ground.

The global warming signal is now louder than the noise of random weather, as I predicted would happen by now in the journal Science in 1981. Extremely hot summers have increased noticeably. We can say with high confidence that the recent heat waves in Texas and Russia, and the one in Europe in 2003, which killed tens of thousands, were not natural events — they were caused by human-induced climate change. We have known since the 1800s that carbon dioxide traps heat in the atmosphere. The right amount keeps the climate conducive to human life. But add too much, as we are doing now, and temperatures will inevitably rise too high. This is not the result of natural variability, as some argue.

The earth is currently in the part of its long-term orbit cycle where temperatures would normally be cooling. But they are rising — and it’s because we are forcing them higher with fossil fuel emissions.

The concentration of carbon dioxide in the atmosphere has risen from 280 parts per million to 393 p.p.m. over the last 150 years. The tar sands contain enough carbon — 240 gigatons — to add 120 p.p.m. Tar shale, a close cousin of tar sands found mainly in the United States, contains at least an additional 300 gigatons of carbon. If we turn to these dirtiest of fuels, instead of finding ways to phase out our addiction to fossil fuels, there is no hope of keeping carbon concentrations below 500 p.p.m. — a level that would, as earth’s history shows, leave our children a climate system that is out of their control. We need to start reducing emissions significantly, not create new ways to increase them.

We should impose a gradually rising carbon fee, collected from fossil fuel companies, then distribute 100 percent of the collections to all Americans on a per-capita basis every month. The government would not get a penny. This market-based approach would stimulate innovation, jobs and economic growth, avoid enlarging government or having it pick winners or losers.

Most Americans, except the heaviest energy users, would get more back than they paid in increased prices. Not only that, the reduction in oil use resulting from the carbon price would be nearly six times as great as the oil supply from the proposed pipeline from Canada, rendering the pipeline superfluous, according to economic models driven by a slowly rising carbon price.

But instead of placing a rising fee on carbon emissions to make fossil fuels pay their true costs, leveling the energy playing field, the world’s governments are forcing the public to subsidize fossil fuels with hundreds of billions of dollars per year. This encourages a frantic stampede to extract every fossil fuel through mountaintop removal, longwall mining, hydraulic fracturing, tar sands and tar shale extraction, and deep ocean and Arctic drilling. President Obama speaks of a “planet in peril,” but he does not provide the leadership needed to change the world’s course.

Our leaders must speak candidly to the public — which yearns for open, honest discussion — explaining that our continued technological leadership and economic well-being demand a reasoned change of our energy course. History has shown that the American public can rise to the challenge, but leadership is essential. The science of the situation is clear — it’s time for the politics to follow. This is a plan that can unify conservatives and liberals, environmentalists and business.

Every major national science academy in the world has reported that global warming is real, caused mostly by humans, and requires urgent action. The cost of acting goes far higher the longer we wait — we can’t wait any longer to avoid the worst and be judged immoral by coming generations.

James Hansen directs the NASA Goddard Institute for Space Studies and is the author of “Storms of My Grandchildren.”

***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** *****

James Hansen : “game over pour le climat” (NYT)

9 mai 2012 | Pour James Hansen, directeur du Goddard institute for space studies, de la Nasa, la science est très claire : le changement climatique est déjà en train de se produire. Il est temps que les politiques suivent.

LE réchauffement climatique n’est pas une prédiction. Ce qui se passe. C’est pourquoi j’ai été tellement troublée lire un entretien récent avec le président Obama dans Rolling Stone, dans lequel il dit que le Canada serait exploiter l’huile dans ses sables bitumineux vastes réserves « indépendamment de ce que nous faisons. » Lire toute l’histoire :

May 11, 2012 Posted by | Uncategorized | , , , , | 2 Comments

The Passing of Sayadaw U Thila Wunta

Sayadaw and small meditation 'trainee'

Sayadaw and small meditation 'trainee'

The Teacher of my Teachers passed away on Thursday March 17, 2011; he was 99 yrs old.

He ordained my principal Teacher (Namgyal Rinpoche/Anandabodhi) in the late 1950s, and my senior Teacher (Sonam Senge/Bodhinanda) in the early 1980s.

I took students to his monastery in Burma to study with him in 2003, 2005+06.
He was an extraordinary being.

There is a gross misunderstanding that some Mahayana Buddhists have about Theravidin Buddhists, claiming that Theravadin Buddhism is focused too much on the individual attaining his or her own personal liberation (and forsaking the well-being of all).

Sayadaw was a living refutation of that view. Saying things like: “You students have little small greed, you have desire for a house maybe… but Sayadaw has Maha-Desire, Maha-Desire for all of you to have shelter, for all of you to attain enlightenment.”

Sayadaw’s Last Teaching

Here is my  last conversation with the Ven. Sayadaw U Thila Wanta; it took place on the balcony of his monastery in Burma in December 2006.  At that time I had spent almost two weeks near his monastery coming over with two other students to meditate on the grounds once a day and share in the daily meal offered to Sayadaw (which he then passed on to his 40 or so meditating cats–“Better meditators than you!” he sometimes said— and then to the Western visitors—in that order).

But all in all, very little appeared to be happening.

Truth be told I was a bit disappointed; I guess I kept expecting some kind of lightening bolt, a profound teaching from him to come out of the blue. But every day he just sent us off to eat his (and the cats’) leftovers….

On the final morning, as the taxi to the airport waited down below, we went up for a final goodbye.

At this point I remembered that I had promised Bodhinanda (my senior teacher, who had been ordained as bhikkhu by Sayadaw 25 years before) that I would pass on his best wishes to Sayadaw and specifically his wish that Sayadaw have a long life (Sayadaw was already 94 or so).

Smiling and expecting a simple exchange of pleasantries I repeated Bodhinanda’s request:

“Sayadaw, Bodhinanda asked me to wish you a long life.”

I was blindsided by Sayadaw’s response.
There was a pause as the translator passed on the message—and then Sayadaw’s frown deepened and suddenly he spat in his spitoon and he barked out (half in English and half in Mon, via the translator):
”Long life not important! Ha!”

He waved his hand dismissively,

“If want liberation for one person, for you, alone, then—short life good enough!”

Spitting again, he repeated,

“Short Life good enough—Ha!”

A pause, and then a long stare into my eyes–

“Long life only if wish liberation for all beings!”

“If, if want help all beings, then…. OK… Long life. OK.”




Here I’ve patched together some wonderful biographical notes about Sayadaw from a Kagyu website and from the ClearSky website:

Sayadaw U Thila Wunta (1912-2011)

U Thila Wunta, the teacher of Namgyal Rinpoche, came from the Mon State of Burma. He was born 28 June 1912. He began his training at a monastery school in 1919. At the age of 15 he took the vows of a monk. In May 1932 he received full ordination as a Bhikshu in the Theravada Order under the direction of Kyaw Sayadaw.1

U Thila Wunta settled for some time near the great Shve Dagon Pagoda, in Rangoon. It is generally believed by Buddhists that certain holy sites or “power spots” are especially conducive for progress in meditation. Experience has shown that meditation is not only easier, but that insight dawns much faster, when practice is carried out at such places. Further, because many beings over the centuries have themselves realized Enlightenment at these special holy sites, it is felt that a residue vibration of their presences remains there. The Shve Dagon Pagoda at Rangoon is one of the world’s most special power places.

In 1948, U Thila Wunta traveled to Popa to meet Bodaw Aung Min Gaung, a fully realized Burmese saint.

Sayadaw U Thila Wunta

Bodaw Aung Min Gaung was a great meditator in the Weizzer forest-tradition of Burma. In Burma “weizzers” are known as persons having wisdom, masters of Wisdom (Skt: vidya), or the “Wise Ones”. 2

Bodaw Aung Min Gaung was a master who not only knew how to teach meditation but one who had himself acquired full realization. He was a truly liberated being.

Meeting Aung Min Gaung brought about a radical change in his understanding. To fully focus on his practice, he went into solitary retreat in the forest, wandering from village to village for food but otherwise living entirely alone.

Upon U Thila Wunta’s eventual return to Rangoon, a pious layman named U Pho Nweh donated five acres of land in the hope that U Thila Wunta would restore an ancient, broken stupa (pagoda) on the property. Initially U Thila Wunta thought that this would distract him from his meditation practice, but his guru Bodaw Aung Ming Gaung advised him to go ahead and accept the gift.

Today, surrounding the reconstructed central pagoda, there are now some 174 smaller pagodas. Buildings for monks and lay meditators have also sprung up throughout the grounds. The original five acres has been transformed over the years into a thriving monastic complex, known as Dat Pon Zon Aung Min Gaung Monastery, firmly centered in the Weizzer meditation tradition.

U Thila Wunta spent 1950–55 in meditation at the base of a tree on the grounds of Dat Pon Zon Monastery.

Sayadaw U Thila WuntaAfter U Thila Wunta attained awakening, he began a number of extensive trips around the world. Starting in 1955 the venerable Sayadaw visited Thailand, Nepal, and India. In India he went to Lumbini, Sarnath, Jammu, Sravasti, Kusinara, Darjeeling, and again Bodh Gaya, the holiest site of all. At Bodh Gaya he performed an intensive 49 day meditation retreat. He then returned via Thailand to his native land. In the meantime his little monastery had grown to accommodate twenty monks.

In 1956, during the Buddha-Jayanti celebrations of 2,500 years of Buddhism, he visited the London Buddhist Society, where he met the young Canadian, George Leslie Dawson (Anada Bodhi/Namgyal Rinpoche), who was immediately drawn to the Sayadaw as his teacher.  The Sayadaw invited Dawson to follow him to Burma. Travelling overland to India that year, Dawson re-joined the Sayadaw in Buddhagaya where he received Novice ordination as Samanera Ananda. Continuing on to Burma, he received Higher Ordination at the Shwe Dagon Temple in Rangoon and was given the name Ananda Bodhi Bhikkhu. There he studied the Vinaya and Abhidhamma.

Under Sayadaw’s guidance, Ananda Bodhi received meditation training in all of the 40 classical Samatha practices  and later studied the Vipassana (insight) meditation system under Mahasi Sayadaw.  After more than 5 years of intensive training in the East, the Venerable Ananda Bodhi received the title of ‘Samatha-Vipassana-Kammathan-Acariya’ — teacher of both the calm and insight meditation practices — and he was given the red belt of a meditation master.

The Sayadaw U Thila Wunta dedicated his life to teaching the profound method of meditation that he learned under the compassionate guidance of Bodaw Aung Min Gaung.

His fame in Burma, where he was looked upon as a living Arhat, an enlightened Master, was very great indeed. Many miracles were attributed to him. The impersonal goodness, compassion and wisdom that radiated from his presence were tangible. Everyone who had the blessed fortune to meet U Thila Wunta felt that they were in the exceptional presence of an extraordinary human saint.

Namgyal Rinpoche’s teacher U Thila Wunta was an austere, old man of great presence and power. The depth of his wisdom was written all over his aged face, and the intensity of his love was like a tangible force.


1 The title Sayadaw (Skt: Upadhyaya, Tib: Khenpo) means “preceptor” or “abbot”. When one goes for ordination in the Buddhist tradition, of the five or more monks necessary for an ordination service, the two of most importance for the applicant is one’s Preceptor, or Upadhyaya, and one’s Teacher (Acharn or Acarya).

2 The term “weizzer” derives from the Pali word “vijja” meaning wisdom or awareness, according to L. Olmstead. It was the weizzer tradition that Bodaw Aung Min Guang passed on to the venerable Sayadaw U Thilawunta.

March 19, 2011 Posted by | Uncategorized | , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 4 Comments

My favorite Christmas story

My favorite Christmas story is from Father René Fumeleau, a Catholic priest in Lutselk’e, Northwest Territories (NWT), Canada.  [He recounts it in a lovely audio CD of his stories, “They Gave Me a Chance”].

As a young man, Father Fumeleau was sent to a small  Dene community in the NWT for his first assignment as priest for a local congregation there.  One of the first things he decided he wanted to do was make the church more reflective of local Dene culture.

As part of this exercise he went to visit a local Dene artist. Fumeleau said to the painter,

“I’d like to put a painting of the Nativity Scene into the church; but I’d like the painting to be done with references to Dene culture.”

The painter nodded and so Fumeleau went on: “I was thinking we could paint the Nativity Scene as if it took place up here.  Maybe having Joseph and Mary–instead of going into Bethlehem– paint them coming into a Dene village maybe by dog team? And they went from door to door being turned away until they come to the Dene equivalent of the manger, a barn, the building where Jesus is born.  What do you think?”

The painter nodded noncommittally.

So Fumeleau said, “Well it’s summer time now, it’s a long ways to go before Christmas.  Think about it and I’ll come back and check out on you later.”

A few months later, in the autumn, Fumeleau went back to visit the painter.

“How’s the Nativity Scene going?  Have you painted it?”  The painter shook his head, and said, “No.”

Fumeleau said, “Well there’s still some time.  I’ll check back later.”

A few weeks before Christmas, he visited the painter again.

He asked, “How’s it going? Have you made any progress in painting the Dene Nativity Scene?”  The painter shook his head, and said, “No.”
Fumeleau said, “You’re not going to paint one are you?”  The painter said, “No.”  Fumeleau sighed and asked, “Why not?”  And the Dene painter answered, “Because I can’t paint it the way you ask Father.   If Joseph and Mary came to a Dene village, the first door they knocked on would take them in.”

December 15, 2010 Posted by | Uncategorized | , , , , , , , , | 3 Comments


Often at the entrance to a meditation center there will be a donation bowl, sometimes with the Pali word “Dana” over it, and maybe it’ll also have a sign saying that the center or the teacher rely on donations so please donate to support the teaching.

This is fine, and perhaps it is a necessary explanation for Westerners, but this is not Dana.

This is exchange or a form of payment.  This is the way we Westerners approach all services, with a requirement of reciprocity, “I get so I give and I give so I get”—this is the equation dominant in our minds.  And this equation is fine and dandy.  On the face of it, there is no problem at all, but this equation is not Dana.

The Pali Dictionary (on page 318) gives the Vedic roots for the word Dana: da (davati = to give), to deal out, distribute.  Dana is a charitable gift to the sangha, a meritorious act, (to give to virtuous people), giving to a Bhikkhu.

It took doing service for my teacher before I finally began to figure out what Dana meant.

My principal teacher, Namgyal Rinpoche, had a senior student who served as attendant preparing all of the teacher’s food, handling travel arrangements and so on.

One day, early on in my Dharma training, I was asked to replace the attendant for a day.  I was in awe of Rinpoche and so I was nervous about doing things right as I took on the responsibility of cooking for him during the day.

The first meal was lunch and Rinpoche was quite easy on me.  When I asked what he wanted, he suggested perhaps a ham sandwich with mustard.  I went digging in the fridge for the mustard.

He said, “It’s on the left side.”

In my nervousness, my dyslexia kicked in, and I kept looking on the right side of the fridge.

He asked, “Are you looking on the left side?”

Convinced that I was, I said, “Yes” and kept shuffling the bottles on the right side, trying to find the mustard.

After a few minutes of this, Rinpoche got off the couch, came to the fridge, reached over my shoulder and pulled the mustard off the left shelf, right in front of my face.

He put the mustard on the counter top next to the ham and bread and he quietly said, “I’m quite capable of making a sandwich you know.  If you want to make this sandwich, you can, but you don’t have to. Do you want to make lunch for me?”

And he waited.  He was smiling and calm.

I said, “Yes, please let me make the sandwich.”

The way the sandwich was made, proportion of mustard, probably would have been more to his liking if he’d made it himself.  But out of compassion, he allowed me to prepare him some lunch.

If a bowl says, “Fee for teaching” that’s one thing, but if the sign says “Dana” it has the same connotation as offering food.  Making that sandwich was an opportunity for me to give.  I was not doing it to get something in return, to receive a teaching or to pay my teacher.  In the same way, if we choose to put money in the Dana bowl, it’s as if we are hearing the teacher say, “I’m quite capable of doing things myself, but if it would benefit you to give in this manner, then I will accept it, out of compassion.”

Making that sandwich was supposed to be (and it was) good for me.  Putting Dana in a Dana bowl is also good for me so long as the teacher is willing to accept it.  If I want to put Dana in the Dana bowl then I should do so whether the teacher is offering a class or not.

For a teacher rooted in this tradition, if you offer them a glass of water and if they have a deep understanding of the dynamics of Dana, even if they are not thirsty they will at least touch the glass to indicate their acceptance of the gift and to convey that your generosity has been recognized, acknowledged.  They may not necessarily drink the water, they may not eat the sandwich, they may not spend the money in the bowl, but, in order to confer a benefit on you, they will give some sign (if you are looking) that your generosity is acknowledged.

Can you see how this is completely different than paying for a service?  These are two totally different types of activities, two totally different dynamics.  Just to repeat, there’s nothing wrong with paying for a service, but that is not what Dana means.

If you go to Burma today, and if you’re willing to get up at 6am or so, you’ll see the monks carrying their bowls, accepting alms from the laity just like they did 2500 years ago in the time of the Buddha.  Both my teachers were ordained as monks in Burma and talked about the importance of understanding this tradition of alms round if you wanted to understand the dynamics of Dana.

Namgyal Rinpoche use to say: “Don’t call it a ‘begging bowl’—the Buddha didn’t ‘beg’—he provided an opportunity for others to accumulate merit.”

Rinpoche told a story from his time as a young monk in Burma, in order to describe the interaction of the giver and the receiver of Dana.

One day, while Rinpoche (then known as Anandabodhi) was on alms round, a woman from a very poor family came forward to offer alms.  She piled his alms bowl full with rice, actually with too much rice, because it’s against the rules of the order for the recipient monk to spill any of what the laity has offered.  But when Rinpoche made the sign that he wished to continue on, to indicate “that’s enough”, she kept piling rice into his bowl, until it was overflowing.

When he went back to the monastery with this overflowing alms bowl some of the rice fell out of the bowl onto the floor of the hallway of the monastery… At which point one of the senior members of the order jumped on his transgression, and criticized the young Canadian monk for breaking the rule, saying he was committing a “sin”.

And Rinpoche replied:

“It is not my sin, it is her glory.”

Sonam Senge likes to cite another story, from the Visuddhimagga, that also sheds light on this dynamic of Dana.

One time an elderly monk was nearing death; he had not eaten in several days, and he sat near a road, under a fruit tree, with his alms bowl, to wait for someone to offer food.  As he was waiting, a piece of fruit fell from the tree, nearby.  And so he was forced to ponder: what would be the best course of action to take to benefit all beings?

If he ate the fruit, he took away the possibility of someone gaining merit from offering him the fruit.  He didn’t want to deny someone that opportunity; so he continued to wait.  More time passed and he got weaker.  Eventually a layman came by and noticed the bhikkhu, and picked up the fruit and put it in his bowl; but by this point the monk was too feeble to eat it.  So the layman picked up the monk and carried him toward his home, where he hoped he could take care of him.

The monk died while he was being carried.  And at the moment of death the monk attained Arahat, the fourth (final) stage of sainthood.

The layman carrying the monk attained the first stage of sainthood: Sotapanna.

A member of the order accepts offerings out of compassion, in order to allow the giver to benefit. This is obviously completely different than how ‘Dana’ is usually explained in Buddhist circles in the West.  Western Buddhists usually talk about Dana as if it is just another word for “donation bowl/fee for teaching”. As if Dana belongs to the same set of dynamics as cash payments, ticket sales, and market relations.

It does not.

November 15, 2010 Posted by | Uncategorized | , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 3 Comments