Friday, 27 July 2007

Some Reflections on Change

Dhammaketu, Ghent, Belgium

First published in ‘Articles Shabda’, February 2004

On reading Shabda in an isolated spot like mine, one could get easily the impression the Order and the movement are almost collapsing. But on the European Chairmen's Meeting I am just back from I heard reports of growth and strength, corresponding to my experience: not just here in Ghent, but in all the centres I visit at times, I see the Dharma at work, and thriving sanghas.

In trying to make sense of these two - mutually exclusive - experiences of the movement, I had the idea they both go back to what essentially distinguishes the (F)WBO from other Buddhist movements, one following from living up to it, the other from departing from it.

What makes us different is Bhante's insistence on living the spiritual life, not as an compartment of life, but enclosing the full life in this civilisation, irrespective of life style.

And to me his most outstanding contribution to Buddhist thinking is that he saw the consequences of this in the relationships between those who lead such a life: he formulated the difference between a group and a spiritual community, and in doing so he added a sociological dimension to Buddhist thinking.

This dimension was absent in the civilisations in which Buddhism developed and prospered - as it was in ours up to a couple of centuries ago. Buddhist tradition has an immensely rich view on the spiritual development of an individual, but very little on his relationships with others who do the same. It offers an immense treasure of meditations and teachings for personal development, but spiritual relationship stays limited to the teacher-pupil relationship, or to essentially functioning in a group, mostly of monks.

Bhante spelled out the difference between a mere group member, who does what the group expects, and the individual, who engages in spiritual life out of his commitment. He pointed out the consequences of this for another dimension of life which is absent in the traditional analysis: communication. Truthful communication is dealing with one another as individuals, not as group members. And he spelled out the difference between a spiritual community of individuals and a group, however positive it may be.

Individual and Sangha arise wherever the dharma is practised seriously, it is not limited to the (F)WBO, but mostly this happens at a pre-conscious level, as a by-product of the spiritual life so to speak. The secret of the (F)WBO is that we foster this process consciously. This is what attracted me to the Order and the movement, from my very first contacts onward, this is what I see at work wherever I go in the movement, and this is what accounts for our extraordinary success.

Inversely, I am sorry to say, much of the moaning, doubts, hurt feelings, messages of doom and impending collapse one comes across seems to be largely the expression of the disappointment of group members, feeling wronged in what others did to them, and feeling the wrongdoers are not properly punished. In as far as this is the case, it has been fed by tendencies to establish groups - and not always very positive ones - instead of spiritual communities. The most devastating expression of this was found in Croydon in the 80ies, but Croydon was not an isolated case.

Falling back on the group and its norms is a tendency we all have - it is an expression of the third fetter, faith in doing the right things, turning means into goals - and we all have to keep working to avoid it taking over. This tendency is conspicuously present in our structures, and I am afraid this is partly a negative inheritance we have from Bhante.

From the beginnings of the movement on he set out to coach people to live up as individuals, and encouraged them to set up structures that would underpin this life: the 3 C's (Centres, Communities, and ‘Coops’ ie Team-Based Right Livelihood businesses), the single-sex principle, no other teachers.... In the early years of the movement these were highly helpful - if not even downright essential - to the great majority, as he was starting from zero (or even from minus one thousand!). But their very success meant that they tended later on to harden into absolutes, i.e. into group norms, and gradually new ones were added, e.g. exacting criteria to become a mitra and a rigid ordination process, and the spiritual development of people tended to be measured by their compliance with them. And I am afraid Bhante may not always have seen to what extent it was a group process, and may have encouraged it unduly.

(Just a footnote: what I describe was a tendency, to which there were luckily numerous exceptions, and me being an order member is a testimony to this. I was ordained in almost no time, although I was an irregular in absolutely all aspects of the group norm).

The present reform (2004) I see as growing out of these group aspects, which are in contradiction with Bhante's fundamental vision, and have lost all their supporting value. Replacing the ossified mitra system by a mitra community has been the first go at it, and by and large it had an enormously positive impact. And I see a few more changes of that kind to come or already on their way. Some of these are:

- stopping seeing the 3 C's and the single-sex principle as normative. (Read carefully, I have already been misunderstood on this point, I am not advocating getting rid of them because I do not like them!). The present growing disaffection with them is in all probability just a reaction against their normative imposition. They are valuable instruments, and I am sure they soon will be on the up again, but they will be taken up only where people experience them as helpful, not because they need to do so to get ordained fast, or something.

- seeing the preparation for ordination as a function of the needs and strengths of the aspirants, not as part of what a standardized ordination "process" has to offer.

- the establishment of genuine leadership within the Order and the movement. To develop ourselves and bring the Dharma to beings we need structures, and these need leadership.

Leadership is freely accepted by the true individual, because he operates out of trust instead of suspicion and fear of power. And it is freely given by the true individual who is entrusted with it, because he does not look for power or domination to prop up a self. To establish such leadership we all will need to get rid of negative group attitudes towards the "top"- both rejecting leadership, and slavishly accepting it - and those entrusted with it will need the courage to exercise it, especially when the going is a bit rough, as it is at the present.

These are a few reflections on what is going on at the present, and I hope they may be helpful for the future. May all beings be happy!

What is An Order Member?

Reprinted from Articles Shabda May 2004

Dhammaketu, Gent, Belgium

(Open to all)

Up to Bhante's full retirement the FWBO was a nicely structured, well oiled and well running machine, in which everybody had a well defined place. From a structural point of view, it was a pyramid, with controls very much at the top. The undisputed summit was Bhante, who acted as supreme watchman. Next came the Order, running things and keeping all strings securely in hand. Then came the mitras, non-officially but very really divided over three levels: first those who had asked for ordination, who had a clear program of things to be done to get ordained; then the old mitras who did not make it to ordination, were parked on a side track and eventually dropped out; and third the newer ones, who got attention as long as there were signs they might make it to ask for ordination. And at the bottom were the two classes of regulars: those who might become mitras and got attention, and those who would not, were sidetracked and eventually dropped out also.

All this gave a strong sense of security, and it was working quite well, as the astonishing growth figures testify: from very unpromising beginnings in 37 years to more than 1200 order members today, plus of course a few thousand mitras, a hundred Dharma centres reaching tens of thousands of people - and in India even far more ... . But since Bhante's retirement and especially since Yashomitra's article, this sense of security has gone. At the West-European Order Forum recently, I heard a very senior, highly regarded and deeply committed order member ask – “what it is to be an order member?” He was about the last one I would have expected this question from, but to him it clearly was not a rhetorical one at all. His question shows how deep and far-reaching the questioning goes, so I volunteer some reflections, not just about what it is to be an order member, but also about the order as a whole and its functioning within the movement. To understand both the past successes and the present state of questioning, we have to go back to one of the most weighty of Bhante's numerous fundamental contributions to present day Buddhism, both in the East and in the West: his emphasis on the Going for Refuge of the 'individual' - which happens to be also the foundation of our vision on the spiritual life in general, and on the Order specifically. I think that both what went well and what went wrong is connected to this, and so is the way out to the future.

Maybe we have repeated it so often, and often so unthinkingly, perfunctorily or at times maybe even dishonestly, that it may sound as a platitude, but the very foundation of what we are doing is just this: working at effectively Going for Refuge - and doing so as an individual.

Going for Refuge means somehow integrating the vision of the Buddha our lives. This is possible at various intensities and levels of stability, and as we all know, Bhante distinguished five levels we all know by heart, with only the first four being relevant at present.

At the bottom there is ethnic Going for Refuge: at its best this is living according to whatever of the vision of the Buddha has been integrated into the values and norms of the group one belongs to, and doing this in order to be accepted as a member of that group. Within the FWBO we tend to look down a bit patronizingly on this - unwarrantedly, because it is a very valuable thing. In as far as a group is inspired by the dharma, it will be a very positive one, and living according to its norms and values is highly beneficial. It is problematical only to the extent to which non-dharmic norms and values, or even counter-dharmic ones are mixed up with its dharmic ones.

But to live the spiritual life fully, we have to act as an individual: no longer to comply with group norms, but taking on shikshapadas, training rules, and acting according to them out of our personal growing emotional positivity and mental clarity. We start by trying out, with maybe still a lot of question marks and doubts, but definitely adjusting our lives out of our inner motivation. This phase Bhante has dubbed as 'provisional Going for Refuge'. And when we keep this going seriously and long enough, there comes a point at which the dharma is more and more becoming the centre of our lives and motivation, and we are able to decide this is how we will live on henceforth. And this is of course 'effective Going for Refuge'.

Now, according to traditional FWBO lore, ethnic Going for Refuge is typically found at the regulars level, provisional Going for Refuge with the mitras, and order members are distinguished by their effective Going for Refuge. But I think things are not that simple.

First, these are not three different and clearly demarcated levels, but rather three different mental attitudes, all three are still present in my mind, and I cannot help seeing them operating in others also. Our motives are mixed, we often act just as group members - luckily ours is an exceptionally positive group - , at times we have question marks and doubts, and only at our best moments we act out of inner clarity and positivity. These days [ie, in 2003] in Shabda we find ample evidence of rampant doubts and question marks within the order, and I think it even possible to meditate regularly, to be ethically decent and generally to be a 'good' order member when doing all this mainly in compliance to group norms. The only thing we can do about all this is working at keeping effective Going for Refuge the dominating attitude.

Second, this view about which level represents which attitude in Going for Refuge was formulated by Bhante very early on in the history of the movement, when the level of spiritual maturity was far lower than it is nowadays. When I hear some old stories, I have a feeling that some who become mitras nowadays are going for refuge far more effectively than was required to become an order member thirty years ago. And when I look at the practice of the majority of the mitras in Gent - including also the friends who will become mitras at next Wesak - I can testify the dharma is at the centre of their lives, they have no substantial doubts, and they have clearly decided this is how they will live henceforth - so they go for refuge effectively. Provisional Going for Refuge seems to be the province of some regulars and the people who came along very recently, and so is ethnic Going for Refuge..

I honestly think that effective going for refuge is no longer mainly limited to the order members and mitras approaching ordination. The old clear-cut demarcation lines do no longer obtain, and this has far-reaching consequences for the working of the movement. Bhante has always insisted, and very rightly so, that Buddhist movements should be run by committed people. In the early years the required level of commitment, stability and dharma knowledge was found only in order members, so we became a movement in which controls were kept tightly in the order. For a long time this has been a source of stable growth, but now it is becoming counter-productive. The great mass of effective Going for Refuge outside the order needs outlets to express itself, and it is noticeable that the most vigorous situations in the movement are mostly those in which mitras and committed friends are taking serious responsibilities. And instead of seeing this as threat or an exception to be avoided as much as possible, we should encourage it and create opportunities for it.

As the demarcation lines have gone, I think we need to get rid of the aura of exclusivity around being an order member and around the order. We order members are definitely not a special breed of Buddhists, we do not come back from our ordination retreats as new beings - in those of us who did not return as stream entrants the old person has not died at all! Maybe in the isolation of an ordination retreat we can whip ourselves up to believe this, but as soon as we are back in normal circumstances the old person just takes over - with post-ordination blues as a result. I sincerely hope the new ordination (non)-process will start dealing with this, and take down that wall, a bit in analogy with the dismantling of the old mitra system - which had a strongly invigorating effect on most of our centres.

Where does this leave us order members? When we no longer have the monopoly on effective Going for Refuge, are no longer running the show, and are no longer a special breed, where do we stand? Well, I see the order as the growth point of a movement which has set out to live an bring the dharma in forms which fit in with our culture, and we welcome into it those whose effective Going for Refuge is sufficiently intense, stable and mature to allow them to function at that growth point in our collective process of spiritual development. As for those of us who are already in the order, this means we have to keep growing, otherwise we will be overtaken and left behind. A tree has to grow to full maturity, and if we content ourselves with stagnating at the point we have reached, we are turning ourselves into a kind of bonsai order member - very decorative maybe, but rather useless this world needs more from its trees and order members.

In keeping growing we will be able to do what is most needed : instead of concentrating on running things ourselves, it will often be far more effective to concentrate more on being a kalyana mitra to all those who are ready to do their bit of work, and to operate as much as possible as givers of inspiration rather than as managers. To some characters such as mine letting-go of control does not come naturally, but it is a fine exercise in letting go of self-view - and maybe also a bit of a test of how seriously we are working at that. This does not mean we should stop doing things ourselves, there is quite a lot we still may have to take on, the need is to change our attitudes in this respect.

And of course, it is very unlikely we will in this life run out of personal growth opportunities. In our line of business, full maturity is Awakening for the sake of all beings, so we may kept busy for a few more lives or kalpas. But according to our teacher the first decisive step in that process is not that far off: real Going for Refuge, Stream Entry or the Awakening of the Bodhicitta. I still think, as I wrote a year ago, in the long run effective Going for Refuge is sustainable only when our perspectives are not limited to good meditations, good actions and being a good order member generally, but go for the next step in realising the full vision of the Buddha: Awakening, for the sake of all beings. In other words, in order to stay effectively Going for Refuge, we have to set out for that real Going for Refuge, not just by ritually repeating the words, but by acting on it, however inadequate our stumbling steps may seem. And only that, I think, makes us into real order members.

A Note on Revision of Bhante's Teachings

A couple of Shabdas ago Saccanama started a thread on the need of having a fresh look at Bhante's teachings. I intended to send some reflections on this topic also, but this article illustrates how I look at this question, so a short notice at the end of it will do.

Over the 16 years I have been involved in the FWBO, 9 of them as an order member, I have read extensively in Bhante's enormous output of books, talks, etc. In them I have found a lot of very inspiring insights for my life as a committed Buddhist in post-industrial Western Europe at the turn of the 21st century, and very little I did fundamentally disagree with - his interpretation of the Buddhist tradition about women and the spiritual life being the only instance coming to mind now. But especially recently I have noticed there are quite a few bits and pieces which do not fit any more. And when looking closely at them, it turns out they are sometimes just expressions of Bhante's personality or even idiosyncrasies or, more often, they were said in situations which are quite different from the present one.

So I have started to read Bhante with the eye of higher criticism. When I come across something which does not seem to fit, I ask a few questions, such as:

- in how far may this be an expression of the author's personality?
- who were the people to whom he said this?
- what were their needs at that time?
- in how far are these needs still present in our situation now?
- in how far are the means he recommended then still available or appropriate?
(This is just a sample; other similar or more detailed questions may be asked)

This is a powerful instrument for sifting, not the chaff from the corn - I have come across very little chaff in my reading of Bhante - but the universally valid general principles from what is circumstantial and no longer applicable in the present situation. It is not likely we will always all give the same answers to this kind of questions, but I think we have to ask them again and again, if we want to avoid ending up just parroting Bhante, with ironclad rules and immovable institutions cast in reinforced concrete - exactly the opposite of what he wanted us to be.

I have applied this approach in writing the above article, and I hope at least the questions will be useful for the further growth of our movement, even if we do not all agree on my answers.

Of the Shadows of the Past, and the Road That Goes On


Dhammaketu, Gent

Reprinted with permission from Articles Shabda May 2003

Yashomitra's article in February Shabda is the latest of a series of events - mainly the Guardian article and its aftermath, and a series of resignations or considerations to resign of senior OMs feeling out of tune with the movement - which indicate we have not yet fully left behind the growth pains and even traumas of the early years of the Movement.

Now there are basically two unhelpful ways of dealing with traumas, and one helpful one. It is unhelpful to repress, to refuse to see, to cover up what has gone wrong, but it is equally unhelpful to keep them alive by constantly analysing them, finding more and more details, and more and more grounds for feeling unhappy about them. Helpful is to acknowledge them (which may need a fair amount of analysis), accepting they are a shadow on our otherwise impressive Dharma heritage, and then finding ways to let go.

I have not gone personally through all that, I am second generation, ordained in 1995, so for me it is relatively easy to write this. It will evidently be much harder for those of us who have gone through it, especially if there are still old wounds not properly healed. But we all have to deal with the shadow of the past, if not because of personal traumas and pain, at least because Bhante's attitudes to sex permitted some wrong views to develop within the Movement, which influenced our ways of operating in an unhelpful way.

In this article I will first try to clarify my thoughts about these Shadows of the Past, and then reflect a bit on the Road that Goes On - hoping we will walk it all together.

1. THE SHADOWS OF THE PAST

The present discussion is limited very much to questions as whether Bhante acted unethically, and whether things where covered up, and who were the culprits in what went wrong. I will not go into the covering-up question, I take the publication of Yashomitra's article and the present possibility of discussing the whole area fully and openly as the uncovering of whatever might have been covered up. And as for seeking culprits - and having them pay for it - I think this is not a helpful attitude; maybe it is just an attitude we carried over from our Christian past, and which I think we’d better leave behind. I prefer a more constructive approach: frankly acknowledging what went wrong, redressing whatever can be redressed, healing whatever can be healed, and getting on with what has to be done, hopefully a bit wiser for the experience.

But the question of what went wrong is much farther-reaching than just the question of unskilful behaviour. There was evidently quite some unskilful behaviour going on in those early days, but to me it is far more important to dig up a few doubtful or downright wrong views, which were connected with the sexual mores of the day, and which influenced and hampered - and partly still do so - the way the movement operated.

1.1 unskilfullness on Bhante's part

Yashomitra's article put into the foreground the question whether or how far Bhante acted skilfully or unskilfully. This question is not unimportant, but I think it is essentially unanswerable, because skilfulness and unskilfullness are based on mental states, and the only judge in this is the person acting. Bhante says he acted out of friendliness, and whether this is true, or a rationalisation, or a mix of both, or whatever, he is the only one to know, and the only one to bear the karmic results, both good and bad. The question whether there was appetite present, whether a little or a lot, is really irrelevant: contrarily to our Christian conditioning, there is nothing wrong with appetite, it becomes unskilful only when indulged at the expense of others.

Vishvapani's moving article in the Threads section of April 2546 (see A Letter to Norman Fischer), which gives us a bit of a clue. It reads like the kind of story Bhante might have written himself, if he had been able to do so. I gather from it his sexual activities were largely the result of his needs for friendship and intimacy in a situation which must have been lonely to the extreme, and it makes understandable the idea that he really had the feeling of acting out of friendliness.

But there is more to it than the question of (un)skilful behaviour. It is quite evident in this situation he developed a blind spot - in stark contrast with his usual clarity - to things that were essentially in contradiction with his vision of the Dharma. In the first place, a blind spot for the projections of probably quite a few of the youngsters involved, and of their inevitable suffering when left behind. It must have been very deep indeed, looking at Yashomitra's article, written more than twenty years after the facts. I felt deeply sorry when I read it, in the first place for his suffering and the suffering of probably many others, but also for Bhante, for the OM who insulted Yashomitra when he left Aryatara, for Padmaraja, for all those wounded in Croydon and elsewhere. We cannot take away the suffering, but we can acknowledge it and respond to it with metta, which takes the aspect of karuna in this context.

And in this way I am sure we can help those who suffer(ed) to leave it behind.

1.2 Wrong Views

However detrimental to the Order in itself, these possibly unethical actions and the suffering they caused are not the last thing, but only the consequence of something even more disruptive: a set of doubtful and sometimes downright wrong views about sex and the spiritual life which developed implicitly - and sometimes explicitly - in the wake of the sexual practices, views to which Bhante developed a blind spot also, or maybe encouraged, tacitly or even explicitly.

As late as 1992 or 1993, on one of my first GFR retreats in Padmaloka, I heard someone affirming gay sex is better for the spiritual life than straight sex. By then I was well aware of Bhante's sexual preferences and former activities, and of the general (F)WBO attitudes to homosexuality, which I shared and still share - although I myself am as straight as they come.

But to me this statement sounded simply absurd, and I thought it was just one man's illusion, until later on I learned it was much more widespread, and at one time and in some places even was the dominant mood. Underneath and behind this opinion I discovered some other views, such as "homosexual sex is liberating" or "homosexual relationships are supportive of spiritual guidance".

Stated that bluntly, it is not hard to see they are simply wrong. Sex, whether hetero or homo or solo, is a hindrance to spiritual development, and a very strong one at that. In my experience, the best thing one can do with it is to keep it within ethical channels, and so avoid gross unskilful mental states - but even then there remain plenty of still quite gross but less evident mental attitudes present, such as mutual exploitation, violence, dependence, possessiveness....

It is only because the sexual experience is so violent that they seem relatively minor, but they are not. And they are in no way any good for furthering spiritual growth.

1.3 doubtful, or wrongly applied views

The above-mentioned views were rationalised by calling in other ones, some of them rather doubtful, and some applied wrongly. For instance, the view that homosexual sex is liberating was linked with the promotion of a doubtful entity called "manhood", and the view that homosexual relationships are supportive of spiritual growth/guidance was linked with a wrong application of an in-itself correct analysis of heterosexual relationships.

When doing the GFR retreat on Spiritual Friendship, I was thrilled with the subject (and still am), but I had no use whatsoever for some of the ideas proposed, such as "leaving the woman's world" and "developing manhood" - and not just because by then I was already 53. I felt then that it did not fit my life experience, but later on I began to see more clearly it is a very un-dharmic way of looking at things. It is making fixed things out of what are very complex mental and physical processes, which are widely different for different human beings. "Manhood" and "the woman's world" are, from a dharmic viewpoint, just as unreal as "soul" or "self", such 'dharmas' are nowhere to be found, and making them up and acting on them can be very misleading - and cannot but lead to suffering.

Such ideas may be or may have been helpful on the level of psychological development, but the development and liberation we strive for is of an altogether different quality. Using them beyond the sphere where they can be useful reduces the dharma to mere therapy, and using them to underpin the idea that homosexual activities are useful or even almost required to develop this "manhood" and thus further "spiritual" growth, is just asking for trouble.

Leading to trouble also were the wrong conclusions taken from Bhante's critique of the illusions our society has about romantic love and the family. I am a family man, and from a 35-year experience I can fully underwrite his misgivings about these two sources of all blessings and full happiness. This is probably the most widespread wrong view of our times, and as such a source of massive suffering. Single sex activities were the standard answer the movement developed to avoid or counter these illusions, and although they had their limitations they were by and large quite successful and spiritually helpful. But the same cannot be said about the illusion that homosexual relationships are, at least to a large extent, free from the faults of heterosexual ones, or even that they can support spiritual development: holding those views is also asking for big trouble.

1.4 A new light on the Croydon crisis

Rereading Yashomitra's article, the thought struck me that the FWBO’s Croydon crisis may have been the ultimate consequence of the wrong views we are reviewing here. This crisis, in all likelihood, was not just Padmaraja turning a guru and manipulating the Croydon sangha to this end, as it is usually presented, and as I saw it up to now. Yashomitra's description of the way he was treated (corroborated with what I heard before over the years from first-hand witnesses, mainly my good friend and kalyana mitra Bodhimitra, and my ordination brother Dhammasena and his wife Vijayasri) made me see the basic creed of Padmaraja's Croydon must have been this set of wrong views: homosexual Buddhism as the pinnacle of spiritual development, and developing "manhood" as paramount to developing transcendental Insight. They were present and must have done some harm elsewhere in the Movement also, but in Croydon they were applied undiluted and rigorously.

No wonder they left such deep wounds, even after all those years.

1.5 Men, women and the spiritual life.

It looks very probable that Bhante's sexual preferences have had a bearing on one of the most controversial issues in the Order: the question of the ability of women for the spiritual life. He has regularly pointed out that, according to the unanimous Buddhist tradition, women are at a handicap in leading the spiritual life. The fact is there, of course, but what does it mean?

According to the same unanimous tradition, the Earth is constituted of four continents around Mount Sumeru, which is 80, 000 yojanas high, roughly 400,000 km., and therefore well beyond the orbit of the moon. This example highlights the fact that not all tradition, even if held unanimously, is dharma: it has been clothed in the representations of the world current in the cultures and the times in which it spread, and sifting out dharma from culture has been the main task Bhante took on when he founded the Order and the Movement.

In fulfilling this task he has been hugely efficient, but on this point I am afraid he failed to do so. For in all the said cultures women were held to be second class beings - as, by the way, they were also in our culture up to a century ago. Among the Indian Aryans, they could not be warriors and they were too impure to be priests, in China they could not be Confucian scholars, so they had no part in the groups which made the spiritual discoveries of the Axial Age, and thus appeared as incompetent in such higher matters. All of this is culture, not dharma.

Dharma is the frank statement of the Buddha, made without any reservations or additions whatever, that women can, when they lead the spiritual life fully, reach as well as men the four aryan levels, from Stream-entry all the way up to Arahantship. And we have the Therigatha as a witness to their success. But this went so strongly against the grain of cultural preconceptions that very soon they were put back in their place, and pushed to the fringe of spiritual life, or even pushed out entirely, and so the truth of the cultural preconceptions was established again: everybody could see that women were no good for the spiritual life, that this was a men's business really. (Much of this is just jumping at the eye, as soon as one starts reading the relevant texts through the eye of higher criticism. I intended to do this for this article, but it takes some research I had no time for, because of the threatening deadline. So expect a sequel on this subject soon.)

And it is fairly easy to see why in this question the Buddha was right and the later tradition wrong. Just as there is not such a dharma as (superior) "manhood" there is not such a dharma as (inferior) "womanhood". Both men and women are just very complex bundles of processes, of skandhas, and for both of them the core processes are mental, at the level of the samskaras.

Both men and women have the same work to do: getting out of greed, hatred and delusion, and developing their positive counterparts. And I honestly fail to see any difference between men and women at this level.

There is a difference, though, but only at the material, rupa, level. Rupa is inextricably linked with the mental processes, but does not dominate them at all, at least not when one learns to handle the mental processes, which is what the spiritual life is about. The remaining, and real, difference is that rupa can influence mental processes in different ways, because of differences in hormones and brain functioning, but this is really a difference at the surface, not at the core of the matter, and it becomes more and more negligible the more one is effective in the spiritual life, i.e. the more one learns to handle the mental processes towards giving, love and clarity.

Happily, Bhante must somehow have seen there is no difference at the core, when founding a unified Order. But it looks later on the surface differences were overstressed, and when the single-sex principle was carried through so rigorously it almost developed into "apartheid" between men and women. This may have been a needed skilful means in the formative years of the movement, when the pioneers were learning to handle mental processes, but I hope most of us by now have developed this skill so far we can have a fresh look at it, as I intend to do further on.

2. THE ROAD THAT GOES ON

So having - hopefully - disposed of the shadows of the past, or at least indicated how we could handle them, I turn to the real subject of this article: what to do next? And there is an enormous amount to be done, not least because -

2.1 Our world desperately needs the dharma.

Greed, hatred and delusion are as rampant as they ever have been, but our world has lost its instruments to do something about them. Traditional religion, including traditional Buddhism, have been out-competed by science, technology and consumption, and so have lost their impact on society. The materialist "religions" such as Marxism and consumerism cannot fill the hole, nor does the fundamentalist revivalism in Christianity and Islam, who merely go back to the externals, not to the positive inspiration behind them, and preach hatred instead. And the whole of humanity is heading, in a mad race of greed, into ecological disaster and maybe into its own self-destruction.

To this madness I see only one possible remedy: the realistic and clear vision of the Buddha, with its penetrating insight in the functioning of the mind and its effective instruments to do something about it. This I see as an inestimable surplus value over any other teaching, analysis or way of life I have tried out before in my life (mainly: Christian monasticism, rational philosophy, Marxism, ecological life, and political action), and, having it tried out myself, I am confident it will work with other human beings also. But our world needs the Dharma not dressed up in the garb of pre-industrial oriental cultures - this can appeal only to a fringe minority - it needs to be translated into our (post-) industrial ways of thinking and living. And this exactly is what Bhante has set out to develop.

2.2 Bhante's position as our teacher.

So to me there is no shred of doubt possible about this: in Bhante's teaching there is such a wealth of clear thinking about the essence of the Dharma, such a wealth of insight into the practical applications, and such a supporting setup of institutions, all of it geared to the situation and the mentality of the industrial world. The consequences which were the result of his blind spots and human shortcomings are just a shadow on all this, but in no way diminish its value. They can easily be removed, and in doing so his teaching is not weakened, but strengthened. No other teacher I know of combines the same breadth with the same depth, and I would not be surprised if future generations recognise him as the most important Buddhist teacher of the twentieth century.

With many others, I deplore he has not spoken out explicitly about the shadows of the past, but I take his returning to brahmacarya himself and his renewed urge to us to move in that direction as an implicit distancing of them. And somehow I feel the Croydon debacle may have been a decisive element in this change of attitude, which to me is his real message in this matter.

2.3 A fresh look at our institutions.

Our Movement has largely been shaped by Bhante, so it is not surprising his personal preferences at times may have had a disproportional - but not necessarily negative - influence.

Perhaps it is for this reason that the standard Order Member seems to read literature, to go to art galleries, to have Blake on his bookshelf, to read the more imaginative Mahayana Sutras - and if one reads Greek philosophy instead, has no eye for visual arts, has the Bible and the Quran on one's bookshelf, and prefers the Pali and Prajnaparamita texts one can sometimes get the feeling of being a bit of an oddity as an Order Member. But Bhante himself has urged time and time again we should be individuals, not clones of a teacher, so we may need to have a look at our institutions and habits to see what is just Bhante, and to develop more oddness where it is called for.

The above examples are perfectly innocuous, but this mechanism has played also with respect to Bhante's sexual preferences and the views associated by them. Here I will limit myself to just one area which many of us feel the need of looking into, the "single sex principle".

Building further on my analysis of the fundamental identity of men and women with respect to the core business of the spiritual life but different angles at the surface, I think it remains sensible to provide some single sex activities. But contrarily to the accepted wisdom of our movement, the more we grow spiritually the less - underline, please! - this may be necessary! And the strict and almost mechanically applied apartheid from the mitra level onward needs to be broken down. I have no simple answer to what should be single sex and what not, we probably will need to work it out experimentally. Some activities are more likely to stay single sex, communities for one; but it may surprise you to hear intensive meditation retreats need not be at all - as I experienced to my own surprise on Varamitra's brilliant Dutch winter retreats. Doubtless this is because on them we worked so intensively at the core level at developing positive samskaras, that the surface effects lost most of their hold for the duration of the retreat.

Especially at the Order level something needs to be done. I hear that in bigger Centres Order Members who are not involved in Centre work may live almost their whole Order life without any contact with Order Members of the opposite sex, except for the meagre 4 days every two years at the mixed Convention. The newish Order Forums I experience as helpful in this respect, we could try having a longer mixed Convention (seven days each women - mixed - men?), and we could do with some mixed Order weekends also.

2.4 Taking our institutions further.

As Bhante pointed out frequently enough: because of the samsaric pull, standing still is sliding back. As long as we are not an Order of predominantly Stream-entrants, our task is to move on.

In March Shabda I pointed out this implies we need to go for a higher spiritual goal than just being good Buddhists and healthy human beings (another dharma nowhere to be found), we need to develop Transcendental Insight itself. And this has implications for our institutions.

The first 35 years of the Movement - I will call it the Bhante period - was essentially geared to developing an Order of committed individuals, taking the Dharma as their life guide. And it has been a spectacularly successful period: we have a large Order, an even larger Movement, and most of us are very different from what we would have been without this all, and the difference is unambiguously to the credit side. But our efforts and our successes have largely been limited to the psychological level, to building only the foundation for what the spiritual life really is for: Transcendental Insight, and our institutions are essentially serving this need.

Do not expect me to say now they have become obsolete; they will be needed probably for most of us for a long time to come. But when we mark up our goal, they will not be sufficient any longer as the growth point of the movement.

For this we need a new instrument: vihara-style communities, where people commit themselves to live, not just for an experimental period, but indefinitely - with the resolve of the Buddha who decided he would not leave the foot of the Bodhi Tree until death or until Awakening, whichever came first. (Luckily for us, Awakening came first). What is needed is full commitment, not for a limited period with the perspective of time-off for a sabbatical afterwards - and of course no time-off for boyfriends or girlfriends. As far as I can see, none of the present initiatives really fulfill the bill, not even the very laudable experiments at vihara-style life in Guhyaloka and elsewhere.

Even a few pioneers starting this could have an immense uplifting influence on the Order and the Movement - not just by living the life itself, but also by offering the occasion to share their life, for a weekend, a week, a month... to those of us who - like me - are not yet up to, or not in the possibility of leading this kind of life ourselves. This means the viharas have to be established not too far away from the inhabited world, hereby following the example of our Christian (and the early Buddhist) monastic tradition. The project Varamitra has set out for is of this kind, and I hope many of us will follow his example.

Unfortunately, to the great majority of us this is almost certainly not what we are ready for yet, but there are other ways of working toward Insight. Insight is Wisdom-Compassion fully interlinked, and one can work towards it from both sides. Vihara life is more to the Wisdom side, working among and for beings may be an alternative more from the Compassion side. And here I see two wide-open possibilities.

One is developing TBRL in the direction of vocational activities: old age care, hospice work....

This will have no easy start, as it needs highly trained people, and a commitment over a far longer period of time than what is usual at the moment, comparable to the commitment in the future viharas. I am glad some initiatives are already taken in that direction, and I hope they are the first steps to what in the long run should become the dominating form of TBRL in the Movement.

A second alternative is a consequence of what I wrote earlier about the world desperately needing the Dharma. During the Bhante period of the Movement, our Centres were - and still are - largely inward turned. All energies went into deepening the commitment of those coming to them. One could say, almost without exaggeration, the Centres were essentially the breeding ground for new Order Members. Consequently, almost all who came along and were not ready for that intensity dropped out sooner or later - both Friends, and Mitras who did not go on to ordination. Up to now, this was almost inevitable, because the danger of watering-down was lurking around the corner.

But I think we have come to a stage of development where we safely can start catering for the needs of those we had to leave behind before, and have a kind of "Buddhism-lite" activities suited to what they can handle. This our Beginners Nights and even our Regulars Nights cannot provide: they are far too much embedded in our habitual vision and so are just temporary stepping stones to higher activities. From what I hear, Buddhafield is working along those lines already, but we need much more: not just reaching fringe groups in our society, but offering something which can attract people from far more standard settings. One big warning here: this will work only if we set it up as a gift to the participants, not as a recruiting ground for the Order.

And an even bigger warning: it will work only if we keep our intensity intact - which means going on upgrading our spiritual life.

I hope these reflections will be of some use to you, reader. It was hard work getting them a bit coherently into my word processor, and some of them arose while writing, so they are not all as mature as I would like them to be. I will be glad to hear of any thought or reflection which might improve on them.

My e-mail is: dhammaketu [at] gmail.com

May all beings be happy.

Friday, 13 July 2007

Sexual Evolution

Dhammadinna
First published in Dharma Life 8, Summer 1998

In 28 years as a Buddhist, Dhammadinna, has seen or done it all. She recalls experiments in the Friends of the Western Buddhist Order around sex, celibacy and lifestyle and discusses how its collective experience has matured.

In the late Sixties I lived in a large commune of ten adults and four children. Some friends lived in a much looser commune where people didn't even have a room of their own, but changed rooms and partners on a nightly basis. The Sixties was a time of both genuine idealism and great naivety. Some of us believed, at least for a while, that anything was possible and that we could change ourselves and the world through love.

This was the era of free love, jazz, poetry and drugs; the development of humanistic psychology and the cult of free expression; the re-emergence of the women's movement and the advent of gay pride; the greater availability of birth control, especially the pill; and, from a background culture of drugs, the explosion of LSD to a wider public. It was a time of exploration and experimentation in many areas of life - political, philosophical, mystical and religious, psychological, artistic, musical, social, chemical and not least sexual.

Sexual liberation meant hedonistic, guilt-free sex: heterosexual, homosexual and bisexual, with one or a number of partners. From both humanistic psychology and drug experimentation came attitudes such as 'letting it all hang out', 'going with the flow' and 'if you feel like doing it, do it'. The positive side of this was a willingness to explore and experiment, taking nothing for granted. There was also a darker side induced by confusion, bad trips and sometimes descent into addiction, alienation and despair.

When Sangharakshita returned to England in the early Sixties, after 20 years in India as a Buddhist monk, it was with people from this counter culture that he found himself working. As the incumbent at the Hampstead Buddhist Vihara, he encountered a much more respectable section of society. But increasingly, the people he taught came from the 'counter-culture', and their energy and radicalism seemed to offer a basis for engagement with the transformative teachings of Buddhism.

In 1967 Sangharakshita founded the Friends of the Western Buddhist Order (FWBO) with the aim of developing ways of practising Buddhism that were appropriate in the modern world. From these beginnings a Buddhist movement developed. During the 1960s and '70s, the numbers involved in the FWBO were small. We were a 'circle of friends' attempting to put our ideals into practice and develop a new society based on Buddhist principles. Many of us were young and were willing to question and challenge all areas of life.

But times have changed, and some of the things we did in the past have given rise to controversy. Perhaps it is time to take stock; to look back on those early experiments, and consider what was learnt and what has been left behind. This means understanding the attitudes and activities of previous decades in the context of their time. We should be aware of the tendency to see the past through the eyes of the present: a time affected by Aids and by discussion of sexual abuse, as well as by political correctness and gender politics.

When I first encountered the FWBO in 1970 I was 24 and a hippy. I was in an 'open marriage' and, although I had personal sexual difficulties, I subscribed to the ethos that sex was a form of communication and it was open to each person to decide what they wanted to do. In my commune people had changed or shared partners, and I was not prejudiced about homosexuality or lesbianism, having friends of both persuasions.

In the FWBO people were of differing ages but many were young like myself and shared my ideas. When I first met Sangharakshita, he cut an unusual figure. He was dressed in orange robes, but had long hair and wore a Tibetan mala. He was also friendly and informal, although with an obvious air of spiritual authority and wisdom. Early retreats could be quite wild with people dancing and drumming on the lawns, engaging in drama or dream groups, forming and leaving relationships, as well as engaging in serious spiritual practice

Sangharakshita initially gave us a great deal of leeway, affirming our enthusiastic search for Truth, but he also knew when to begin to demand more. On the summer retreat of 1972 he introduced triple periods of meditation, long periods of silence, and an emphasis on mindfulness and reflection. After this retreat many of us decided to take our spiritual lives more seriously and formed the first residential communities around Pundarika, our centre in north London. And in 1973 I was ordained into the Western Buddhist Order.

Early in my involvement I wanted to go away and meditate for a few days and I chose a Tibetan Buddhist centre. The people there were friendly but referred to rumours concerning Sangharakshita and sex. I was not at all bothered; it didn't occur to me to check with Sangharakshita whether they were true. It struck me as a fuss about nothing. I had made a spiritual connection with Sangharakshita, and through him with Buddhism. He had befriended and guided me. I knew he wore robes for ceremonial reasons but less and less so otherwise.

I did not think of Sangharakshita as a traditional bhikkhu, and at that time I wasn't particularly interested in traditional forms of Buddhism. I trusted him. I had always found him willing to talk to me about all aspects of my life. He was sympathetic and helpful to me when my marriage broke up, encouraging when I practised celibacy, and understanding when I gave it up.

As our practice deepened my contemporaries and I in the WBO began to see that sex could cause a lot of confusion and be a distraction from Buddhist practice. Moreover we were beginning to realise that the romantic ideal - so prevalent in our western conditioning - could lead to dependency, and work against the development of friendships and a harmonious sangha (spiritual community). Reflections such as these led to the establishment of single-sex activities. This began with retreats for men and for women, but developed into the establishment of single-sex communities and 'Right Livelihood' working projects. By the mid-Eighties we came to feel that single-sex activities in all areas of practice were most conducive to spiritual growth.

Our decisions to practise within these single-sex situations and to question our sexual involvements and attitudes arose out of a desire to break our dependency on the opposite sex. This kind of exploration, however, was specific to the West; it arose from the need we felt to discover which lifestyles were most helpful at a time when conventions were being challenged. It wouldn't be appropriate in a more traditional society, where it might be unacceptable and undermine social stability.

My open marriage had ended amicably in 1972. Through forming other friendships and meditating I had realised how dependent I was on my partner, and I wanted to be more independent. I embarked on further relationships but soon became aware that I still had a tendency to emotional dependence. I wanted to experience myself single and alone, responsible for myself, with the time and energy to devote to my friendships and my spiritual practice. I also suffered from sexual guilt and I wanted some time free from that sort of conflict.

For me, moving to a single-sex lifestyle went along with giving up sex. For others it meant engaging in same-sex sex. Some people did this for a while, perhaps realising they were more bisexual than they had thought, while others discovered their true orientation was towards their own gender. Other people remained heterosexual, and still others became celibate. We were trying to break taboos, perhaps derived from Christian and social attitudes to sex, which sometimes resulted in irrational guilt. Some people began to speculate that homosexuality might be in some way more 'spiritual' than heterosexuality, because it was less likely to lead to domesticity and settling down. We also discussed whether spiritual friendship and sexual involvement could go together.

To what extent did these ideas derive from Sangharakshita? In assessing this I have looked back at transcripts of the seminars he led between the mid-Seventies and mid-Eighties. These were intensive and intimate retreats when Sangharakshita led the participants through a Buddhist text, discussing its meaning and its relevance to our spiritual lives. Seminars also provided an opportunity to discuss anything of interest to us. Sexual relationships, sexual orientation, gender, friendship, community life, and lifestyle were all crucial issues as we set up our new Buddhist movement. They were discussed openly and frankly.

These transcripts show how careful was Sangharakshita's thinking. In one discussion he was asked if he thought homosexuality was more 'spiritual' than heterosexuality. He commented that we had to consult our own experience and be honest, and he was not sure that there was less psychological projection in homosexuality. However, he suggested, men often fear expressing their feelings for each other in case they are seen as sexual, and this fear can lead to a general emotional repression. He thought that a man having strong feelings towards another man, even if those feelings are tinged with sexual attraction, need not mean he is homosexual. Sangharakshita concluded that spiritually speaking there is probably not much difference between heterosexual and homosexual relationships, and that we must be equally mindful in either. What is important, he said, is that we cultivate friendship, which will help us to leave sex behind.

In 1981 experimentation took another direction at one FWBO centre where a number of people decided to engage in friendly heterosexual sex outside committed relationships - in other words, promiscuity. This experiment involved very few people, did not last long, and soon people returned to being single, or celibate, or in settled relationships. Perhaps in response, Sangharakshita gave a lecture in 1982 on the virtue of fidelity. The lecture covered fidelity to oneself, to ideals and to other people. Under fidelity to others came the question of sexual fidelity and Sangharakshita outlined three possible modes: monogamy, promiscuity and celibacy. Each, he suggested, has a healthy form and a neurotic form. By promiscuity he meant non-continuity of sexual partners, in other words serial monogamy. He warned that people should be alive to the difficulties of each approach, and seek to avoid the dangers of neurotic attachment, distraction and so on.

Sangharakshita has always encouraged celibacy. He has stressed that people with a natural desire to be chaste should not be encouraged into sexual relationships by others who might think this more normal. He has also urged his disciples, as they get older, to start thinking of moving towards chastity. In an interview in Golden Drum magazine on 'Sex and the Spiritual Life' (autumn 1987), Sangharakshita discussed the powerful, sometimes destructive nature of the sexual drive and the need for those on a spiritual path to invest less emotional energy in sexual relationships.

He also expressed pleasure that more people were taking the Anagarika precept, which enjoins chastity. He never urges anyone to take this precept and Order members need not be celibate. 'One is only asked to keep one's sex life at the periphery, or towards the periphery ... But if one can be celibate ... in a positive and healthy way, I'm sure that will enable one - other factors being equal - to develop spiritually more rapidly.'

During the late 1980s and early '90s more men and women Order members took the Anagarika precept. Becoming an Anagarika does not constitute a higher ordination but it involves the precept of abstention from sexual activity (abrahmacarya). Some Anagarikas have maintained this precept while others have ceased to be chaste and reverted to their previous status. It seems that being celibate is not easy in the West, as the culture that surrounds us is so concerned with sex.

Sangharakshita maintains, however, that the extent to which we are caught up in sexual activity and craving is a matter of degree. In this sense we are all celibate or non-celibate to some extent, and he said that he would like to see everyone in the FWBO progressively moving away from sexual craving, and becoming 'more and more celibate every day'.

These then were the attitudes and examples that informed my own approach to sex. When I decided to end my sexual relationship and give up sex, I initially saw this as a matter of taking 'time out', and the first couple of years were helpful. But as time passed I came to think sex was bad and unspiritual and that I should give it up for good. To do otherwise would have been to 'fall back'. But I had not taken a vow, so in reality I was free to choose whether or not to begin another sexual relationship. This became painful and confusing when I started to experience sexual desire again, but it was also illuminating as I began to understand the extent of my irrational sexual guilt.

Sangharakshita was understanding. He said it was important with any decision to keep the initiative and that perhaps I had lost touch with my reasons for choosing celibacy. Some time later I started a sexual relationship. Over the years I have had a number of sexual relationships, interspersed with sometimes quite long periods of being single. The periods when I was able to be alone and still feel contented and happy have been important to me and helped my relationships to become less neurotic. At the moment I am single and happy with this state.

These days the FWBO is much larger: at first the whole Order could sit in one room and discuss its future in terms of principle and practice. It is harder to see what sexual attitudes in the FWBO currently are, except that they're varied. The average age of Order members has risen steadily, many of us have been practising for many years. We also attract more people with families, which has raised further issues. The emphasis on single-sex activities, community living and team-based Right Livelihood work has sometimes led people with families to feel marginalised.

This is an area of continuing discussion but recent years have seen many more family groups around FWBO centres. There is a creative tension in this area. On one hand we emphasise renunciation and 'going forth' from worldly life (with the institutions of the FWBO offering a practical means of doing this). On the other hand we need to help people in families to find ways of deepening their Buddhist practice.

I find it is now much easier to work with this tension. When I was a young Order member trying to set up communities and projects with few resources, I was sometimes alarmed if a team-member expressed a desire to have a baby. I could see the whole project collapsing. Now I find my greater life experience and maturity enable me to discuss such issues much more openly than in the past, and I can understand the experience of people with families much better.

Although there is now an undoubted ability to address such matters in the Order, sex and sexuality will continue to be an issue for a community that is neither lay nor monastic. In the FWBO there has always been discussion of sexual ethics - both in general terms and on specific issues. One key area is sexual relationships between Order members and the people they teach. Are these relationships exploitative? Can sex and spiritual friendship ever go together, or are they mutually exclusive?

Some people wonder if such relationships need to be governed by rules. But this would fail to express the spirit in which we approach ethical practice: we seek to understand the underlying principle expressed in the Buddhist ethical precepts, rather than proscribing particular actions. Furthermore in a Buddhist movement of the size and diversity of the FWBO - which is active in cultures as different as the modern us, India and South America - any attempt to dictate norms of behaviour could become enormously complex.

It is a mistake to regard an Order member in the same way as a therapist or a priest. An Order member is simply an individual who has made a decisive commitment to Buddhism, and who may express this by leading classes and retreats. However, people coming to learn will have expectations; and if sex is in the mix, it can be confusing. So this area needs careful scrutiny and discussion.

Personally I am convinced that the FWBO's exploratory approach to issues of sex and sexual relationships has been hugely helpful to me and my contemporaries. I have been involved in the FWBO for 28 years and have grown up within it. I have been both instrumental in and affected by its developing ethos. The FWBO's emphasis on spiritual friendship, going beyond emotional dependency, trying to make sexual relationships less central to one's life, thinking about ethics, and working towards celibacy have all had their effect on me.

I have been married, single, celibate, engaged in 'serial monogamy' and in periods of non-monogamy. I have tried to behave ethically and when I have failed I've tried to make amends. I have felt able to be open with my friends about sex and they have been honest with me. By working through strong feelings of irrational guilt about sex and Buddhist practice, I have freed up a great deal of energy. I certainly do not think everyone in the FWBO needs to experiment sexually. But I hope people feel they can be honest about who they are without incurring condemnation.

Particularly in the West, where there are so many options, we need to examine our sex-lives and make choices in accordance with our overall spiritual direction. As a result of our early explorations, we now have thriving single-sex teams and communities, which provide good conditions for serious Dharma practice. We have slowly - sometimes painfully - developed the maturity that enables people to discover their own path, and the lifestyle that best helps them to practise the Buddha's teaching.

Saturday, 7 July 2007

How the FWBO Presents Itself

Paper for Representing Buddhism Conference, Institute of Oriental Philosophy European Centre, March 1999

by Vishvapani

1. Introduction
The Friends of the Western Buddhist Order (FWBO) is one of the largest Buddhist movements in Britain. To be more precise it is one of the three largest movements catering principally to Westerners, the other two being Soka Gakkai and the New Kadampa Tradition each of which gives its membership as 'several thousand'. Taking the numbers affiliated and the number of FWBO centres in the UK, the FWBO may fairly be said to account for between ten and fifteen percent of Britain's non-Asian Buddhist community. There is no doubt then that the FWBO is a significant aspect of Buddhism in Britain. However it is a disproportionately significant force in the dissemination of Buddhism, and in shaping perceptions of Buddhism in British society. The FWBO has always placed a strong emphasis on teaching and communicating its message and around 20,000 people a year learn meditation at an FWBO Centre or outreach activity in the UK. Many thousands more have contact with one of the FWBO's ancillary activities, such as hatha yoga classes or arts events, not to mention going into a shop run as one of the FWBO's 'right livelihood' businesses, or supporting its social work projects in India, through the Karuna Trust fundraising charity.

In addition, the FWBO's emphasis on external communications is evident in the three magazines it publishes, in Windhorse Publications the FWBO has its own publishing house, and there are two video production companies creating FWBO-related material. The work of the FWBO Communications Office, which is the UK's only dedicated Buddhist press office, has ensured that it has a fairly high profile in the media, and that members of the Western Buddhist Order are to be heard broadcasting on UK radio. I must confess my own role in this communicative zeal as I myself edit Dharma Life, the leading FWBO magazine, and am the Director of the FWBO Communications Office.

How the FWBO presents itself is therefore an important aspect of how Buddhism is presented, re-presented and perceived in Britain. But before it is possible to discuss FWBO this, it is necessary to ask what the FWBO is.

2. The FWBO's Stance
The FWBO conceives itself as a middle way within the transmission of Buddhism to the West between the approaches of transplantation and westernisation. By 'transplantation' I mean the approach of the many representatives of traditional Asian schools in the West, whose concern tends to be the transmission of 'authentic' traditions of Buddhism. The FWBO's approach is based on a belief that it is impossible to transplant developed Buddhist traditions from an Asian society into the West without creating many problems and anomalies. One will inevitably be importing a large amount of Asian culture which has no spiritual significance for westerners Therefore, as Stephen Batchelor argues, ‘adaptation is not so much an option as a matter of degree' for all Buddhists in the West. The question posed by Sangharakshita's writings is, on what basis does this adaptation take place, so that it makes Buddhism relevant to the new context, but does not compromise the integrity of the tradition?

At the same time the FWBO sees itself as distinct from the secularised and 'westernised' approach which understands Buddhism in the light of particular traditions of western thought, such as psychotherapy or socialism, drawing on it as a source of techniques and instruction. Those Buddhist movements that might be characterised in this way tend to me lay-oriented and to place a relatively low emphasis on affiliation. They also tend to emphasise meditation rather than engagement with the full range of the Buddhist teachings and practice. Sometimes it has been assumed that the FWBO's 'Western Buddhism' is an adaptation of this sort. However the FWBO is a very different body than, say, the Insight Meditation Society. It emphasises affiliation and tends to require a relatively high level of commitment; it teaches a systematic path that draws on a range of Buddhist practices; and it presents these in the context of the ultimate aims of Buddhism. It also stresses the roots of its teachings in the Buddhist tradition, and indeed its non-sectarian engagement with all aspects of that tradition. From the FWBO's perspective the danger of the secularising approach is that it may reduce the Buddhadharma to a set of ideas and techniques that ignore its soteriological dimension and assimilate it to a materialist worldview that is fundamentally at odds with that of Buddhism.

The premise underlying FWBO's approach is that the central insights and teachings of the Buddhadharma are extra-historical and universal, while the forms Buddhism has taken are historically specific and contingent. Sangharakshita expresses this point in his key teaching of the centrality of going for Refuge to the Three Jewels (the Buddha, the Dharma and the Sangha). 'Going for Refuge is the essential Buddhist act,' he says. For Sangharakshita this traditional formula, which is common to all Buddhist schools, encapsulates the spirit and fundamental orientation of Buddhism and the individual's relation to it. Being a Buddhist therefore means reorienting one's body speech and mind towards the values, qualities and understanding that are represented in the Three Jewels and to following the Buddha's path to Enlightenment. Because individuals do this to differing degrees it follows that there are different levels of going for Refuge. Practising the Dharma means learning to go for Refuge more fully. This same spirit is expressed in the core teachings that are common to all schools which emphasise that Buddhism is a path to Enlightenment, rather than a set of customs or injunctions regarding lifestyle.

The FWBO seeks to adhere to these central teachings and this timeless core, but to apply them pragmatically within the cultural context of its practitioners. This makes the FWBO's praxis varied and flexible in some respects and remarkably coherent in others. At the heart of the FWBO is the Western Buddhist Order, a community of nearly 800 men and women whose commitment is described as 'effective going for Refuge to the Three Jewels'. Their ordination is described as being 'neither lay nor monastic', and is based on the principle that 'going for Refuge is primary, and lifestyle is secondary'. Some Order members lead a fully monastic life, and practice chastity; others have families. But the commitment each has made to Dharma practice is the same, and it is for each individual to find their own way to live that out in practice. The FWBO is in one sense no more than the product of the joint efforts of those 800 people, and the flexible, adaptive forms they have developed in the FWBO are expressions of their responses to the circumstances in which they found themselves. This is the great virtue of the contingency of lifestyle in the FWBO, its middle way between monk and lay. As Andrew Rawlinson says, ‘Sangharakshita is equally critical of orthodox “cultural” monasticism and innovative “rational” non-monasticism. The FWBO is apart from - one might almost say, above - these extremes.’

From the point of view of its practitioners the FWBO is an expression of their own relation to the core of the Buddhadharma itself. 'How the FWBO presents itself' is therefore a secondary concern. Primarily its adherents are concerned with the practice and communication of Buddhism as they understand it, and with their personal Dharma practice. As Sangharakshita puts it, the work of the FWBO to spread its version of the Dharma represents 'the altruistic dimension of going for Refuge'.

It would be wrong to suggest that the FWBO has an overarching presentational policy, as particular expression of what it stands for reflect the individual approaches of particular Order members. Moreover the FWBO's distinction between the underlying principles of the Dharma and their cultural expression implies that these expressions should vary according to local cultures. The FWBO is now active in twenty countries, including such diverse cultural contexts as the Indian Ambedkarite movement and the South American bourgeoisie, and how it presents itself varies accordingly. Having said that FWBO centres follow broadly follow a common syllabus; they are based on the same core set of teachings; they attempt to co-ordinate their teaching work; and they fund collective bodies such as the FWBO Communications Office. In this paper I hope to suggest something of the variety of presentations of the FWBO, and yet also to suggest some of the principles and common concerns which structure these presentations.

As its dialectical relationship to other Buddhist movements suggests, the FWBO is built upon an awareness of the cultural and historical forces that mediate the expression of individuals' going for Refuge. Indeed it may be said that the over-arching project of the FWBO is the creation of a tradition of Buddhism that is genuinely at home in the modern world and Western culture. While Buddhists in the West may hope that an intrinsically Western Buddhism will arise naturally in the course of centuries, the FWBO sees it as something to be systematically cultivated. Sangharakshita has sought to outline the basis on which a Buddhist tradition may arise that is as much Western as Zen is Japanese, or the Nyingmapas are Tibetan.

The FWBO's role as an organisation is to make these principles manifest in institutions, ideas, lived experience and forms of practice, and these manifestations of Dharma practice are also presentations of the FWBO. Given its relationship with other forms of Buddhism, both Eastern and Western, it is natural that the FWBO seeks to avoid portraying Buddhism as an Asian tradition that is, however venerable and profound, culturally alien to the West. And it does not wish to present Buddhism as a system of philosophy, ethics, psychology or relaxation which may be easily assimilated to otherwise unchanged western lifestyles. It wishes Buddhism to be seen as a universal spiritual tradition, that applies equally to all ages, and transcends culture. It wishes to suggest that Buddhism has great relevance to the modern world and that its wisdom, and radicalism can be re-expressed within that world and make a profound contribution to it.

3. The FWBO's Representations
The movement that has grown up over the last 30 years as a result of this project is complex and multi-faceted, and the question of 'how the FWBO presents itself' is accordingly complex. I want to consider a few examples of FWBO activity to suggest this complexity a mediation class at the London Buddhist Centre; pieces of work by three visual artists; and Dharma Life magazine.

(i.) The London Buddhist Centre.

The principal way people encounter the FWBO and learn about its approach to Buddhism is through the activities of its urban public centres. Of these the London Buddhist Centre (LBC) is the largest and most fully developed. Several thousand people pass through its doors every year, and it has become a well-know landmark in East London.

The main teaching work of the LBC consists of meditation classes. Each week it holds one main introductory class on Wednesday evening, plus one or more six week courses, and a class every lunchtime. These teach two samatha meditation practices, anapanasati, or the mindfulness of breathing, and mettabhavana, or the development of loving-kindness which are typically taught in a single session. There are also follow-up sessions or courses that address topics such as how to work with the difficulties encountered in meditation, and the relationship between ethics and meditation. On average about fifty or sixty people attend the evening class, and those who decide to pursue what is taught there continue to attend for a maximum of nine months before moving on to a 'Friends Class', on Tuesday evenings.

The first point to note is the emphasis on meditation as the medium through which Buddhism and the FWBO are introduced. The implication is that the FWBO's teaching is related to personal experience, and especially to the experience of personal change. Thus Buddhism is not presented initially as an intellectual discipline, a movement for social change, or a devotional discipline in these introductory activities, although the FWBO contains all of these dimensions. Devotional practices are not taught at introductory level, and chanting and mantras come later too. When concepts from the Buddhist tradition are introduced in talks their practical import, and experiential significance is usually stressed, as opposed to their philosophical interest.

Secondly neither the anapanasati nor the mettabhavana requires any prior knowledge of, or assent to specifically Buddhist teachings. In this sense they differ from Theravadin Vipassana practices or Tibetan tantric practices, and this makes the FWBO's meditation teaching less overtly 'Buddhist'. However, there is no attempt to disguise the Buddhist origin and orientation of the meditation practices that are taught at the LBC. Classes are led by Order members who wear a kesa (a brocade indicating their membership of the Order), use their Pali or Sanskrit names, and take place in a shrine-room that is dominated by a large Amitabha rupa, albeit one with a Western face.

Similarly no expectations are placed on individuals that they will affiliate to the FWBO, or even that they have an interest in Buddhism. Peggy Morgan has contrasted the FWBO's approach in this respect to that of other groups in being both out-going and non-coercive. ‘I have found something of a middle way in the styles referred to above in the activities of the Friends of the Western Buddhist Order, who do actively initiate contacts and discussion, and seek to inform people, but who have never been accused of putting any undue pressure on people.’ However activities are carefully structured to allow a clear path of progressive involvement in the LBC, which also involves engagement in more specifically Buddhist practices such as puja (worship).

It might be said that at the LBC's introductory classes makes meditation is explicit while Buddhism is implicit. However the environment in which the class takes place gives an additional message. Around 25 people live in the building above the Centre in residential communities. Next door, and open before classes, is a co-operatively run vegetarian restaurant, and in the surrounding streets are several Buddhist-run shops, a café, the London Buddhist Arts Centre, and Bodywise Natural Health Centre. Indeed the LBC is the focus for a community of several hundred Buddhists. The shops, communities and so on are outward manifestations of the decisions of the people involved to live in an overtly Buddhist environment. These activities have been described as the seeds of a 'New Society', which offers an alternative to conventional social forms and is informed by and supportive of Buddhist practice. Their proximity suggests to the people attending meditation classes that the practice they are learning has social and economic implications over and above the purely personal benefits that meditation brings.

Many people attending the LBC's meditation classes have no interest in the FWBO, and perhaps none in Buddhism – they just want to explore some of the benefits of meditation. The Centre's teaching meets this interest on its own level, yet introduces other aspects of its teaching and practice which people are free to pursue if they want to. Buddhism is communicated as something that is not culturally alien, has a universal relevance, is accessible to people's lives and experience, and yet which implies a radical alternative. This tried and tested approach underlies all of the FWBO's teaching work.

(ii.) The Dynamics of Cultural encounter – Envisaging a Western Buddha
The second aspect of the FWBO's representations I want to explore is the visual arts, and this in turn suggests a further aspect of the FWBO project: it aspires to create a Western Buddhist culture, making links between the western artistic heritage and Buddhist practice. I will look at work by three Order members, Chintamani, Aloka and Dhammarati, and for the sake of simplicity I have chosen three treatments of Buddha or Bodhisattva images in three different media: sculpture, painting and graphic design. Each of these men is a senior member of the Western Buddhist Order, Chintamani was ordained in 1973 while Aloka and Dhammarati were ordained in 1976). Each of them produces distinctive work that attempts to articulate a visual language for Western Buddhism.

(a) Chintamani's Amitabha

A bronze Amitabha rupa (cast in 1996 from an original in the Essen Buddhist Centre in Germany) dominates the main shrine room at the Manchester Buddhist Centre. It is in full-lotus posture, and rather than the traditional dhyana mudra, its right hand holds up a lotus. In other respects it follows the principal iconographic conventions that have been used for two millennia. But the eyes are rounded and its strong-featured face has a distinctly European cast.

Dharmachari Chintamani is the Chairman of a charity called FWBO Arts, which seeks to encourage engagement in the arts within the FWBO, and for a number of years it has run the London Buddhist Arts Centre in Bethnal Green where Chintamani is based. His early training was in theatre design, and his rupa is dramatically conceived as a focal point within a public space, which arrests attention and provide the room with a dominating presence.

This rupa, like others by Chintamani which are to be found in several FWBO centres, is based on a synthesis of Buddhist and Western influences, as well as an element of personal interpretation. If one were to relate it to an Asian tradition it would be most associated with Japanese Amitabha sculpture. In a western context the musculature and face connects it with Greek and Roman classical statuary and the tradition of heroic sculpture that derives from it. The drapery is more realistic than the stylised cloths of Asian sculpture, and less so than the super-realism of Hellenistic art and much sculpture of the classical Greek period. The result is a reduced realism that connects it with western traditions, yet emphasises the archetypal quality of the image. Similarly the musculature is based on the western tradition of anatomical observation, but it is less pronounced than in classical models, reducing the heroic quality of the piece, and softening its lines. In this respect it differs from another Amitabha rupa by Chintamani that presides over the principal shrine room of the London Buddhist Centre (1978). This rupa draws on the artistic traditions surrounding Amitabha and, more discreetly, those around Apollo. It therefore suggests an iconographic synthesis and a mythological analogy, which enables it to be seen in ways that draw on both oriental and occidental modes.

As a matter of policy FWBO public centres only have images of Shakyamuni or Amitabha on their principal shrine. Because Shakyamuni stands behind the entire Buddhist tradition, taking him as an object of devotion does not imply affiliation with one school in particular. It also relates to the FWBO's desire to follow the central teachings of the Buddhist tradition, and to define these through an emphasis on the teachings of the historical Buddha, so far as these may be discerned from textual records. The use of Amitabha images is an extension of this, in that the two are so closely connected iconographically. Additionally Amitabha is connected with the Western direction, so his use suggests a connection between him and Western Buddhists. This round-eyed Amitabha therefore expresses the essential stance of the FWBO. Some might take 'the Buddha with a Western face to be a symbol for the FWBO's project.

Is this, then, an example of a truly western Buddhist Art; the expression of a genuinely Western Buddhism? Although stylistic elements have been combined, what cannot so easily be synthesised are the meanings of these elements in their traditional contexts. Perhaps the most notable aspect of this rupa is the flower held in Amitabha's hand. The inspiration behind this is a vision of Amitabha described by Sangharakshita in his first volume of memoirs, The Rainbow Road

One night I found myself as it were out of the body and in the presence of Amitabha, the Buddha of Infinite Light, who presides over the western quarter of the universe. The colour of the Buddha was a deep, rich, luminous red, though at the same time soft and glowing like the light of the setting sun. While his left hand rested on his lap, the fingers of his right hand held up by the stalk a single red lotus in full bloom…

But how is one to interpret this new depiction of Amitabha? In Tibetan sculpture the artist may not change the principal details of the Buddha or Bodhisattva's form, and Buddhist art in general does not encourage alteration of such details for simply pictorial ends. The authority of a Tibetan sculpture as an object of devotion rests on a belief that in some sense it depicts the Samboghakaya form of the Buddha, as perceived by a Lama in visionary experience. What then is the status claimed by Chintamani's Amitabha rupa? What is the status of the form of Amitabha it depicts? And what does this imply about Sangharakshita's own status?

Chintamani has made no claims for this image, just as Sangharakshita has never made any claims for his vision. Indeed Sangharakshita has questioned the Tibetan account of iconography and points to the variety of ways iconic imagery is understood in Buddhist cultures. But these questions are implicitly raised by Chintamani's Amitabha because of the proximity it retains to the conventions of Asian iconography.

(b) Aloka's Manjushri
The second image I have chosen is a depiction of Manjughosa by Aloka, painted in oil on wood. While Chintamani's Amitabha rupa is a public image, Aloka's thangka is in the personal possession of an individual, and similarly, Aloka's lifestyle is that of a solitary artist. At times Aloka has played a prominent role in the Western Buddhist Order, but then he has been drawn back to his art. He lived for many years in a disused railway carriage on a Norfolk farm, which slowly filled with an immense output of paintings and sculpture on both Buddhist and non-Buddhist subjects.

Manjusri is seated in full lotus posture, and carrying his sword, yet the imagery and treatment has been interpreted in the light of Aloka's response to Manjusri, and also that of the person for whom it was painted, whose daily meditation practice revolves around the visualisation of Manjusri. The face is personalised, the background detail is greatly reduced, and the image as a whole is flecked with white, as if it were seen in motion, or through snow. There is a dynamism to the composition – as if the sword were about to e wielded – quite different from Asian forms.

Aloka's work is manifestly a personal response to a bodhisattva, which breaks many of the iconic conventions of Asian tradition. In this sense it suggests an analogy with post- Renaissance depictions of Christian imagery, which place previously conventionalised figures in dramatic contexts using new resources of form, perspective and figuration.

Aloka consciously stands outside the Asian traditions of iconography, and feels compelled to re-evaluate them:

'There are traditions of "Buddhist" art, that western Dharma practitioners are heir to, but, removed from their cultural settings and in relation to each other, they can be a source of inspiration only if one can resonate with the spirit of their significance rather than getting side-tracked by the cultural forms displayed…'

This is clearly an analogue, not to say an expression, of the project of the FWBO as a whole. Yet it would be wrong to see his painting in programmatic terms, as an attempt to depict Western Buddhas because the FWBO requires them. Rather it is an exploration of what the Buddha's Wisdom, Compassion and so on might look like, when envisaged by a Western psyche. For Aloka image-making is not a specialised activity called 'art', but a universal human impulse, an aspect of perception:

'Our desires take concrete form. The transformation of desire (the essential work of the creative/spiritual life) must consist in the transformation of what we find to be compelling images… We need images that attract us beyond our immediate appetites, that compel us to deal with the realities of life and do not distract us with novelty.'

Aloka is dismissive of the artistic merits of his work with traditional Buddhist imagery, which he calls 'painting by numbers', and does to commission. His view of the iconography of Buddhas and Bodhisattvas as contingent on an imaginative engagement implies that the best expression of their qualities may dispense with traditional Buddha images altogether and his primary interest now is in non-Buddhist subjects. None the less, the exploration of the inner landscape of his imagination infects his depictions of Bodhisattvas. His paintings imply a new relation to these figures reconciling them as articulations of aspects of the mind, and spiritual experience which elude conceptual expression. Other images he has created are far less conventional than this one; in some cases traditional figuration and iconography is entirely deconstructed, and refashioned according to formal principles that grow from the artists response to the Buddha.

Having questioned Asian modes, the resources on which an artist may draw expand to include the traditions of western art. Both in his Buddhist and non-Buddhist work Aloka shows formal influences from the major figures of Twentieth Century Western art. But perhaps most important is the influence of the tradition of English visionary painting, especially figures such as Stanley Spencer and Eric Gill. These modern painters make no ontological claims for their images, but have an interest, mirrored in Aloka's work and writing, in the nature of the image per se and the mode of perception and experience to which it relates, and which it may express.

The link is Sangharakshita's discussion of the imagination, a concept he draws from Coleridge and the Romantics, and the Imaginal, which he draws from the work of Henri Corbin the scholar of Iranian Sufism. This approach potentially frees the Western Buddhist to engage deeply with the artistic traditions of Buddhist cultures in a way that is not defined by the artistic conventions of those cultures. If Buddhist art is understood as an articulation of an imaginal realm it opens the possibility that they may be conceived within the same context as western arts; and indeed that they may help provide a symbolic language for an individual's spiritual life, without necessarily defining that life in a particular conceptual structure. As Sangharakshita says:

'The imaginal faculty is, in reality the man himself, because when one truly perceives an image, one perceives it with the whole of oneself… one is transported to the world that image inhabits… Truly to perceive an image is to become that image, so that when one speaks of imagination… what one is speaking of is image perceiving image . That is to say, in perceiving an image what one really perceives is, in a sense, oneself.'

(c) Dhammarati's Graphic Design

One of the most significant influences in shaping the image of the FWBO to the general public is the design of its publicity leaflets, the covers of Windhorse Publications' books and the pages of Dharma Life magazine. Most of this work is done by one individual, Dharmachari Dhammarati, who has been a full-time graphic designer for the FWBO since stepping down as Chairman of the London Buddhist Centre in 1994. In my view his work is based on an awareness of the semiotics of Buddhist imagery in a post-modern context as sophisticated as that of anyone working in any visual medium whatsoever.

The example of his work I have chosen is the cover of Sangharakshita's What is the Dharma?. The principal element of the design is an image of Manjughosa taken from an Tibetan thangka. On this is superimposed a title, subtitle and the author's name. Yet the effect of the cover is an intriguing mix of traditional and modern. Firstly, while the image has been treated respectfully it has been cropped, and furthermore it is placed off-centre, presumably for compositional reasons. The title has been superimposed on the Buddha's arm and body while the author's name appears across his legs. Such effects have only become possible with the advent of graphic design technology, so the image as a whole is based on the contrast between the traditional image and its treatment. This suggests the encounter of the Tibetan iconic tradition with a modern - not to say post-modern - sensibility. These tensions are reflected in even the smallest details of this design: the title is in a Times Roman typeface, which is a long-established typographic form, somewhat old-fashioned, and typically used where print needs to be read as authoritative and reliable. However, the subtitle, 'the essential teachings of the Dharma', is in the modern serif typeface, printed white on black, and super-imposed somewhat unconventionally, perhaps even iconoclastically, upon the Buddha's waist.

Dhammarati's work sends a message about the book, which also establishes a stance in relation to the Buddhist tradition - respectful and yet unable to take the tradition on its own terms; needing to make a new sense in a fresh context and to find a fresh harmony that is built precisely on the tensions between traditional and modern, content and treatment. It is the fluidity of the elements and the sophistication with which they are combined that suggests the sobriquet 'post-modern'. This is yet another version of on the FWBO's relation to the Buddhist tradition: deeply engaged, and yet not defined by traditional modes. It speaks to a sophisticated western audience in its own language while also growing from the resources of the Buddhist tradition.

These three visual engagements with Buddhist iconography differ greatly from one another, yet are all expressions of the FWBO's project of practising and expressing Buddhism in the context of our culture as Westerners: Chintamani's Buddha with a Western face; Aloka's free and fluid reworking of Tibetan iconography in the light of modern art in the West and post-Romantic notions of the Imagination; and Dhammarati's post-modern use of Buddhist imagery, employing the freedom afforded by graphic design technology. Each represents a modern Western engagement with Buddhism, and each has achieved some measure of success.

This diversity says something about the variety and fluidity of the Western culture to which the FWBO seeks to introduce Buddhism. It also suggests something of the breadth of the FWBO's project when it is translated into practice, its experimental character, and the creativity to be found among its members. Each of these images represents a version of a Western Buddha, and by extension a somewhat different version of the Western Buddhism the FWBO is seeking to develop and to present. The criteria for evaluating their success from the perspective of the FWBO's project is two-fold. First there is the pragmatic question of whether they create objects that are significant to Westerners and enable them to establish a relationship with the Buddhist tradition. But more important is the question of whether they are adequate expressions of the Buddhist meanings that underlie these iconic forms. Which of them best expresses the qualities of Buddhahood, given the conventions and modes of perception that are available to us as Westerners? The unanswerability of this question suggests the open-ended aspect of the FWBO's project.

(iii) Dharma Life Magazine

My final case study is Dharma Life which is the principal magazine of the FWBO, taking as an example Issue 9, Autumn 1998 [note: the image is of the cover of the last issue, Issue 26]. I must first declare an interest as I founded Dharma Life in 1996 and have edited it subsequently, but hope these reflections point to broader issues in considering the FWBO.

Dharma Life's predecessor was called Golden Drum, which was produced for ten years, and before that came The FWBO Newsletter. As might be expected there has been a steady progression in length and production values from one magazine to the next, so that Dharma Life is 68 pages, while Golden Drum was 32 (although Dharma Life is published three times a year, while Golden Drum was quarterly). Thanks, once again, to Dhammarati, Dharma Life is designed to a very high standard.

Dharma Life also represented an editorial shift. Golden Drum was intended at its launch to be more than simply an in-house magazine, which the Newsletter had happily remained. It sought to address a broader Buddhist community and to offer a voice on issues in Western society. As Nagabodhi, Golden Drum's editor, wrote in the editorial of the first issue:

'The FWBO has, in a sense, come of age. And now it is time to speak out with a new voice. That voice is Golden Drum'

In practice that Golden Drum's features were expositions of aspects of Sangharakshita's teachings, in addition to which there was news of FWBO activities, book reviews, and editorial comment on current affairs. The magazine sought to present the 'FWBO's stance' on various subjects, and the relationship it established with its readers was essentially pedagogic, while its relationship with Buddhists outside the FWBO was polemical.

When I was asked to take on the editorship of Golden Drum, I knew I wanted to change the magazine dramatically - a change symbolised by the new name. In my first (and only) editorial I wrote:

'Western Buddhists are coming of age. It is time for them to speak out in their own voices. Those voices can be heard in Dharma Life.

However the magazine needed to remain based on the principles of Sangharakshita's exposition of Buddhism, and on the core values of the FWBO. Indeed there has always been a tension at the heart of Dharma Life's editorial policy , the tension, as it were, between 'Dharma', with all the clarity and comprehensiveness this implies, and 'Life', with its complexity and irreducibility. As I continued in my editorial:

'I am personally more interested in difficult questions than easy answers. And in Dharma Life I hope to publish writers who are able to express their Buddhist values by speaking up for what they believe to be the truth. I want to find Buddhist writing that is new true and considered.'

The magazine has gradually evolved, but most of the elements in the first issue remain. At the front end of the magazine is a section of short features called Real Life, which deals with news and cultural aspects of Buddhism in the modern world. It starts with a visually based spread and short pieces around the influence of Buddhism with popular culture - in Issue 9 this is based around Richard Gere's photographs. In the rest of Real Life there are news stories about Buddhist activism East and West, here including pieces on the growing recognition of the Tibetan independence struggle in western countries; and the suppression of Buddhism in Vietnam. Real Life has also given detailed coverage to stories in Western Buddhism, such as the dispute over Dorje Shugden, the FWBO's own difficulties with the press, and so on. The feature articles are mostly themed, and in Issue 9 the theme is 'Freeing the Heart: the Buddhist Path of Love'. This is a broad subject, which enabled me to draw on a wide range of contributors. An opening sequence on five aspects of loving-kindness includes a piece by a Buddhist prisoner on death row in America; an interview with Aung San Suu Kyi; and advice on friendship from a Sufi text, as well as a short interview with the Chairman of the London Buddhist Centre.

There are three other themed articles. One is on the South African Truth and Justice Commission, by an FWBO mitra who is a TV director and had interviewed Nelson Mandela, Desmond Tutu and others while making a documentary. Another article, by an Order member, is about maternal love; and the final piece is about erotic and romantic love, by a writer who is involved in the FWBO, and wrote a PhD on the subject.

These examples should suggest something of Dharma Life's approach . Implicit in the breadth of the contributors and subject matter is an attempt to present the FWBO as a part of the Buddhist world, engaged with the issues and personalities who are at its cutting edge, and relevant to and interested in the world beyond Buddhism. I defined the broad subject of the magazine as 'the encounter of Buddhism and the modern world', and I wanted to draw on the breadth of that engagement as it is occurring in fields such as science, psychotherapy, poetry, social action, philosophy, and so on, as well as trying to make sense of the burgeoning Buddhist world outside the FWBO. This breadth grew partly from a desire to reach an audience outside the FWBO, but it was also born of a desire to open the FWBO's internal discourse to broader influences.

There is a tension between the desire for breadth and the desire to stay true to Sangharakshita's teachings and FWBO's values and this tension is one of the most important factors that defines Dharma Life editorially. The need to ensure that the version of Buddhism that Dharma Life expresses is broadly in line with the FWBO's means that most of its writers are from the FWBO itself. Behind the emphasis on coherence is Sangharakshita's concern that the version of Buddhism presented by the FWBO is as clear as possible, and based on what he considers to be 'right views' with regard to the Dharma. The problem with the diversity and sometimes confusion of the western Buddhist world is that it can obscure confusion or misunderstanding about Buddhism itself. Thus Sangharakshita is insistent that Buddhist teachings should not be conflated with and reduced to prevalent attitudes and ideas within western culture. Indeed it might be said that the FWBO as a whole faces a tension between having a distinctive stance within western Buddhism, and being a part of it.

An implication of saying that the magazine should stay true to the teachings of the FWBO is that there is indeed a unitary FWBO position. While individuals are always free to hold whatever views they may wish the core teachings of the FWBO are defined by Sangharakshita and his senior disciples, rather than by consensus or democracy. But where, does that leave an individual who differs on a particular point, and wishes to discuss his or her views in a public context such as Dharma Life? To what extent is the magazine taken to define and uphold the FWBO's stance; and to what extent can it include diverse views? These are questions with which I have had to contend as editor, but they may be extended to any presentation of the FWBO. While it may appear as a single movement to outsiders, it is in fact very diverse, and there are disagreements and debates on many issues within the Western Buddhist Order. A presentation of the FWBO such as Dharma Life must do justice to this diversity whilst also communicating the factors that bind it together.

A similar tension is that between the need for Dharma Life to service the FWBO, and the need to reach a wider audience. Golden Drum's News section was dropped, and there is now no publication that gives news of FWBO activities (although Clear vision produces a video 'newsreel' of such activities biannually, and there is a plethora of local newsletters). The question of how to service the FWBO is complicated by the diversity of the FWBO audience - which ranges between people attending introductory classes in FWBO centres, to people who have been practising for several decades. The choice of such an accessible theme in Issue 9 was an attempt to appeal to the wider audience, while it seeks to retain the interest of more experienced readers through the diversity of the subject matter in the articles.

Although as editor I am often aware of the incommensuality of some of these aims I think that where Dharma Life has been successful it is because it has been prepared to take on wholeheartedly the issues that face any attempt to present the FWBO. Modern society, the Buddhist tradition and Buddhism in the West are all complex phenomena and so is the FWBO. A magazine, or indeed a Buddhist movement, that seeks a coherent and spiritually significant approach to all of these, does not have an easy task, but may yet be worthwhile and illuminating if it makes the attempt with integrity.

Conclusion
Expressions of the FWBO are extremely varied. Alongside the discussion of the London Buddhist Centre's meditation class, I might have placed Buddhafield, the collective that teaches meditation at Glastonbury and other festivals in Britain, as well as running camping retreats for people from the travelling and alternative scene. I might also have discussed the very different issues facing people teaching the FWBO's version of Buddhism in the slums of Western India. Alongside the discussion of depictions of Buddha images, I might have discussed artists who treat non-religious subjects; or else the work of some of the composers, poets or choreographers who practice within the FWBO. Alongside the discussion of Dharma Life, I might have discussed the work of Clear Vision Education, which is the leading provider of educational materials on schools, and advisor to RE teachers on the teaching of Buddhism. Indeed it is hard from my position within the FWBO to perceive the particular characteristics of the FWBO's presentation as opposed to others.

In this paper I have attempted to suggest something of the scope of the FWBO's project. It is in the nature of this project that it requires interpretation, and any such interpretations must encompass the subtlety of Sangharakshita's teaching; the diversity of FWBO praxis; and the exploratory nature of its engagement with its project. Without such an effort of interpretation the ways the FWBO presents itself will most likely be characterised as either bewilderingly diverse, or blandly homogenous. Practitioners within the FWBO take many years to start to comprehend the overarching vision that informs its work, and as they do so, they are able to contribute to its work in not just presenting Western Buddhism, but also helping to create it. It is the FWBO's very combination of underlying coherence and varied expressions defines its own, particular character.