Buddhism and Veganism Read online

  Reflecting on the store consciousness’s collective and interdependent nature exposes the obstacles to the transformation of our carnist culture and helps us understand why we might continue to be affected by its repercussions even though we made the life- and world-changing decision to stop contributing to animal killing directly. Across many generations, our ancestors grew increasingly alienated from the rest of nature, founding much of our economy and cultural practices on the backs of animals.

  Our laws, language, and lifeways reflect and further reinforce this disconnection. It is likely that the global history of animal exploitation has left deep marks on our bodies and minds. The causes and conditions that brought us mass slaughter and factory farms, the technology and mindset of greed, the objectification of living beings, and the relentless time pressure of the kill floor pervade the foundations of our society.

  Considering the increase of crime, alcohol use and domestic violence in communities near slaughterhouses,14 we can see that the suffering of the workers who spend their days in blood and gore affect us too, even if indirectly. I often feel tempted to blame and shame those involved in the meat industry for their immorality, but I’m thereby perpetuating an already harsh and judgmental culture. If my wish is to contribute to deep transformation at a societal level, it is vital to help create conditions for open and respectful dialogue. We need spaces where we can feel safe enough to be vulnerable, to reflect on our choices honestly and to find the strength to admit when it is time for a change. Vegan advocacy that is compassionately engaged with the world in all its complexity can achieve this goal.

  Thich Nhat Hanh even advocates compassion for the “worst” criminals, saying that if we had to live through their upbringing and conditions, we would probably be in their place today. The realization that we are not that different from our “opponents” in a debate, that we all share the same seeds and potential for love and hate, makes connection across differences possible. The objective reality of violence and cruelty that we perceive as existing outside of us is itself a creation of our collective consciousness. For a collective vegan awakening, we are called to consider our own role in creating the conditions for animal exploitation as one of many symptoms of the confused and materialistic society in which we are participating, whether we want to or not. This is the practice of examining the interdependent co-arising nature of our consciousness, and conjointly, our necessary involvement as a participatory factor in the arising of phenomena in the world, even of those events that seem to have “nothing to do with me.” This is the practice of Paratantra.15

  Just as the collective is in the individual, the individual also influences the collective.16 The moment we think, speak, or act with kindness and respect, the world changes. Modern veganism is here because slaughterhouses and factory farms are here. As the violence reaches ever more extreme levels, the vegan response represents our awakening to compassion and radical inclusiveness.

  The Fuel of Intention

  Intention, or directionality of mind,17 is a powerful source of energy, and indeed is the decisive factor involved in the creation of karma because it determines the moral quality of an act. Intention energy draws on the seeds of respect, kindness, anger, and craving in our store consciousness. As a practitioner and activist, I try to consciously set positive and benevolent intentions because they have the power to align my behaviour, thought, and speech with my purpose. Often, however, I see that less than pure impulses slip in, even though I may not be aware of this right away. In one instance, for example, I realized that when I decided to stop buying dairy products, my intentions were not unified but rather quite conflicted. While my main motivation was compassion for the calves, I could sense an underlying itch to punish those “evil” companies that exploit animals. I also noticed that this punitive attitude added a slightly shrill tone to my voice for a while. To stop wasting precious energy on unnecessary inner struggle, I now practice letting go of any intentions (subtle and gross) that could diminish or compromise the work of peace that the abolition of animal exploitation signifies. I meditate regularly to help catch those seeds in my consciousness before they manifest as guilt, antagonism, fear, or the craving for recognition.

  Intention is so powerful that it also colors perception. If craving for a steak overpowers our positive intentions, we are at risk of distorting the reality of interbeing. We will forget the fact that we are about to sink our teeth into a body part of a sentient being who wanted to live, just as we want to live. Our appetite and habit energy may be pushing us to reduce the animal to the status of a thing, of mere food to be eaten.18 Only in rare cases is it malevolent intent that motivates people to eat meat, wear fur, or even to work in a slaughterhouse. Their deepest desire for kindness is typically buried under many layers of conflict, distractions, and craving. Therefore, the best way to serve people involved in harmful action is to help them become clear about their intentions and deepest desires, and to remind them that yes, alternative ways of living exist. “We should talk to them in such a way that touches their hearts,” says Thich Nhat Hanh, “that helps them to engage on the path that will bring them true happiness; the path of love and understanding, the courage to let go. When they have tasted a little bit of peace and love, they may wake up.”19

  The Fuel of Sense Contact

  The eyes, ears, nose, skin, and mind are our sense doors to truth but too often they are a source of inner chaos. When a sight or sound triggers the potentialities of craving or aversion in our store consciousness, we may feel compelled to do something uncalled for, even if this thought or act goes against our vision of the good. We can always try to simply supress the impulse, which is probably what we have been trained to do since childhood. This strategy, however, costs energy, which eventually depletes us, especially if we try to deny indignation and sadness in situations where we have witnessed or experienced unkindness or injustice. To learn to respond appropriately in situations, I’ve found it helpful to protect myself from unwholesome input for a certain time. Many challenges, though, cannot, and should not, be avoided. In either case, it helps my sanity to be mindful of the fact that I will probably need some time for rest and reflection after particularly trying situations.

  In the Buddha’s discourse on the causation of suffering,20 sense contact with the world is symbolized by a “slayed cow” who, having lost her protective skin, is exposed to the elements unguarded. Without the filter of mindfulness, we suffer like that cow; sense stimulation can overwhelm us and parasitically feed on our life energy. Fatigue, anxiety, and a deep-seated sense of apprehension are contemporary symptoms of unguarded exposure to sense stimulation. Besides social media and advertising as major culprits, getting wrapped up in certain unneeded conversations can be similarly destabilizing, even if we downplay the sometimes subtle effects, like feeling empty somehow after a negative exchange, or disheartened. I now understand that when I hear sarcasm, feelings of unease will arise in me. Yet, having been indoctrinated with unrealistic notions of autonomy and independence since childhood, I underestimate the often surprising extent to which I can either be left nourished or weakened by influences that reach me via my eyes and ears. Recently, I have started to protect myself better in difficult social situations by practicing conscious breathing to protect my inner calm, and sometimes I will excuse myself politely when necessary. I also make an effort to practice mindfulness in conversations about veganism. My hope is that these exchanges water seeds of insight, hope, and openness and do not leave the other feeling judged or depleted.

  Another toxic type of conversation I wish to avoid is one I have with myself. At times, so much as the mere sight of meat on a plate or a fur collar can cause a pinch of aversion and condemnation to manifest in me, bogging me down in an internal dispute. What a waste of energy! The alternative is to select my object of concentration and attention by remembering that “the path of liberation for all beings is larger than this. I am not helping a single animal by drowning in negative though
ts.” But this clarity of mind does not appear by way of sheer willpower. Only when I “give myself a break” from time to time can I heal, get stronger and cope better with the fact that we are surrounded by unrelenting evidence of animal suffering. While noxious sense stimulation can chip away at my vitality, I know that being in contact with wholesome elements supports me on the practice path. Thich Nhat Hanh reminds us that whatever the situation, nourishing elements are always available if we are in touch with the reality of the present moment. Whenever I can, I nourish my seeds of hope and strength through gratitude for the trees, the sky, the smile of a stranger, and the sweet face of a rescued animal in safety.

  I feel joy when I hear that Thich Nhat Hanh’s monastics of Plum Village in Thailand distribute small slips of paper kindly requesting that only plant foods be offered in their alms bowl.21 I wonder what the Buddha would have said about such an apparent break with tradition. I trust that if the Awakened One could see our current situation of environmental devastation, world hunger perpetuated by the production of meat and dairy, and the unspeakable violence against animals, he surely would agree. And does it really matter whether or not the historical Buddha accepted meat in his alms bowl? To be honest, yes, it has bothered me quite a bit. Even so, in keeping with the Zen spirit of not allowing any tradition, doctrine, or authorities to turn into obstacles to liberation, what seems most important is my own practice.22

  The human body-mind, in perpetual interaction with everything and everyone else through space and time, is truly world-creating. It is up to us to decide whether we create hell for ourselves and others or a window for peace. Even in the darkest hour, we can be a light unto ourselves and the world through our practice. I encourage you to make engaged veganism your own, live it deeply, and share the joy of this path with all sentient beings.

  References:

  1. For more on carnism see Melanie Joy, Why we Love Dogs, Eat Pigs, and Wear Cows: An Introduction to Carnism (Berkeley, CA: Conari Press, 2011).

  2. For more on this idea see Will Tuttle, The World Peace Diet: Eating for Spiritual Health and Social Harmony (New York: Lantern Books 2005), 275.

  3. See “The Son’s Flesh Sutra.” Bikkhu Bodhi, trans., The Connected Discourses of the Buddha: A New translation of the Samyutta Nikaya (Boston: Wisdom Publications, 2000), 597‒599.

  4. Thich Nhat Hanh, “Sitting in the Autumn Breeze,” Plum Village, http://plumvillage.org/letters-from-thay/sitting-in-the-autumn-breeze/.

  5. Ibid.

  6. Ibid.

  7. Thich Nhat Hanh, The Practice of Peace and Nonviolence in Family, School, and the Workplace, (Dharma Talk from 16/8/2001 at Lowell, MA), https://tnhaudio.org.

  8. See International Consciousness Research Laboratories (Princeton University), https://newicrl.org/scholarly-publications.

  9. See Dan Ariely, Predictably Irrational (New York: Harper Perennial, 2010).

  10. Thich Nhat Hanh, Mindful Consumption (Dharma Talk from17/7/1998 at Plum Village, France), https://sites.google.com/site/tnhdhamma/Home/test-list/mindful-consumption.

  11. Ibid.

  12. See D.K. Nauriyal, Michael S. Drummond and Y.B. Lal, Buddhist Thought and Applied Psychological Research (London & New York: Routledge).

  13. Thich Nhat Hanh, Understanding Our Mind (Berkeley, CA: Parallax, 2006), 40.

  14. E.g. Amy J. Fitzgerald, Linda Kalof, Thomas Dietz, “Slaughterhouses and Increased Crime Rates,” Organization and Environment 22 (2009).

  15. Nhat Hanh, Understanding our Mind, 200.

  16. Nhat, Hanh, Understanding our Mind, 41.

  17. Herbert V. Guenther & Leslie S. Kawamura, Mind in Buddhist Psychology: A Translation of Ye-shes rgyal-mtshan’s “The Necklace of Clear Understanding” (Berkeley, CA: Dharma Publishing, 1975) Kindle Edition.

  18. In the discourses on dependent co-arising, the Buddha makes clear the strong connection between suffering and clinging. Note that the Pali/Sanskrit term for clinging, upādāna, also means fuel. The notion of feeding and clinging is deeply connected. In the cycle of suffering, it is craving that produces the food it feeds upon. See ‘Mahatanhasankhaya Sutta: The Greater Craving-Destruction Discourse’ in Bikkhu Nanamoli and Bikkhu Bodhi, trans., The Middle Length Discourses of the Buddha: A New Translation of the Majjhima Nikaya, (Boston: Wisdom Publications, 1995), 349‒361.

  19. According to the Large Sutra on Perfect Wisdom, one of the key texts of the Mahayana stream, the enlightened being is “able to develop an ‘honest’ view on their own qualities, intentions, and motives.” For an interesting introduction to Buddhist ethics, character and nature see David E. Cooper and Simon P. James, Buddhism, Virtue, and Environment (Hants, UK & Burlington, VT: Ashgate, 2005), 92.

  20. Bodhi, trans., The Son’s Flesh Sutra, 598.

  21. Brother Chan Troi Nguyen Luc, “Almsround: The Practice of Love, Humility, and Gratitude,” Mindfulness Bell 76 (Fall 2017), 38.

  22. For more on Zen teachings on not seeking the Buddha outside oneself, encapsulated in the famous remark “Kill the Buddha!” by Zen master Lin-chi, see Lin-Chi, The Record of Lin-chi, Transl. by Irmgard Schloegl (Berkeley, CA: Shambala, 1976).

  Five Contemplations: A Mahayana Meal-time Blessing

  HENG SURE

  I was raised Methodist in a Midwestern Protestant Christian family. Before every family meal my parents would have us bow our heads for the meal blessing. We “said grace” around the kitchen table, with my father sitting at the head and my mother closest to the stove where the food was cooking. The “grace” that Dad spoke changed depending on the mood, the occasion, or the season. He loved poetry. Robert Burns’ Scottish blessing was a favorite or, on occasion, Dad would write his own verses of blessing. Mealtime was an opportunity to hear his poetic words, fine rhyme, and rhythm in gratitude for God’s creation.

  Buddhists also say grace and do meal blessings, long ones, in fact. Connecting food and the spirit is a universal impulse, with gratitude being the important theme. In our Chan monasteries the mid-day meal offering lasts twenty minutes and includes prostrations to Buddhas, Bodhisattvas and Dharma Protectors. Then after sitting at the table for the meal we place our palms together, chant the names once more, and then begin the meal.

  In this essay I will share a shortened version of the Five Contemplations, a portable mindfulness exercise that comes at the end of the Mahayana “grace” chants. The Five Contemplations method invites diners, while eating, to move their hearts towards humility by visualizing humanity’s place in the food pyramid, to learn gratitude by growing aware of kindness received, and to become aware of the connection between the planet and the body’s nutrition. This awareness has the power to turn the mundane activity of nourishing the body into a sacred contemplation.

  Using these Five Contemplations with every bite, we reconnect our awareness to the source of our food. We make conscious our deepest convictions about humanity’s actual place in the food chain, make an effort to stitch ourselves back into “Indra’s Net,” and to experience gratitude towards the Earth and all beings.

  I will illustrate the major ideas with stories from a pilgrimage I took along the coast of California from 1977 to 1979. The pilgrimage involved making a full prostration to the ground every three steps, while traveling eight hundred miles up the California Coast Highway from Los Angeles to Ukiah, in Mendocino County. The journey took nearly three years and my monk companion and I traveled roughly one mile a day.

  Living outdoors, walking and bowing on the highway for thirty months, and depending on people’s good will offerings, my monk companion and I ate only one vegan meal per day at noon, in Buddhist monastic style. The slow pace, bowing to the ground in nature along the Pacific Coast Highway, gave me ample time to use these five perspectives to consider my actual situation as one member of the family of living beings, all of whom share an identical makeup of earth, air, fire and water.

  The Five Contemplations Verse, our Buddhist “Grace,” goes like this:

  This offering of the faithf
ul is the fruit of work and care;

  I reflect upon my conduct, ‘Have I truly earned my share?’

  Of the poisons in the mind the most destructive one is greed;

  As a medicine cures illness, I take only what I need To sustain my cultivation, and to realize the Way: So we contemplate with gratitude on this offering today.

  This offering of the faithful is the fruit of work and care.

  Monastics receive alms-food from kind-hearted, generous donors. “The faithful” can refer to one’s mother, one’s wife, husband, cook, or dining hall staff. How much work went into growing, harvesting, preparing, and serving the food in my bowl that I am enjoying?

  Reflecting in this way makes the nutrition of the meal go further in stimulating my gratitude. As I eat I can see my place in the larger network of life.

  For example, let’s say I consider the veggie dumplings, mashed potatoes with mushroom gravy, sourdough pizza bread, braised asparagus, pho soup and apple pie I’m eating today and reflect on the process that brought this delicious meal to my alms-bowl. From the farmer’s effort to the purchaser, from the cook to the server, many hearts and hands participated in getting the food to my bowl. Tang Dynasty poet Li Shen captured it succinctly in “Empathy for the Farmer:”

  Beneath the blazing noonday sun, a farmer steers the plow;

  Drops of sweat fall from his body to the ground below.

  Contemplate the food you eat in your alms bowl:

  How every grain of rice comes from his bitter toil.