Sure, I pray. But, as a Buddhist, who am I praying to? Aren't all Buddhists athiests after all? I remember an AA old timer said at a meeting, "There are no athiests in foxholes." If you're too young to remember any wars, a foxhole is a hole that soldiers dig in the ground to stave off advancing foot troops. But they still get blown up by artillery. When our lives are on the line, everybody prays to something.
Not long ago I found myself sitting in the Zen Center of San Diego, an old house in Pacific Beach that used to be run by my old Zen teacher, Joko Beck. It had been 25 years since I sat on a cushion in that house, yet somehow, I had the sense nothing had changed. It was kind of depressing really. She used to say things to me like, "No one can save you." I remember being both intrigued and angered by such statements. She was supposed to be a teacher who was there to help me, after all.
But if anything has changed since 1991, it's my realization that she was right. No one can save you. And there's no one to be saved. That may sound like a bunch of Buddhism to you, but to me, it's the reality of my experience. I've spent a lot of time in mental foxholes. I've begged, pleaded, negotiated and cried out for something, someone, anyone to save me. Yet here I sit, one of the most unsaved suckers you ever met.
Does that mean I never got any help or any answers to my prayers? Nope. I'm only here today because in fact I did get help, and a lot of it. But just enough to keep me in the weeds, without drowning in the swamp. Not all Buddhists pray, but those of us that do pray to enlightened manifestations of Buddha such as Green Tara. I do a lot of Tara practice. And it does work. Let me offer an example.
My sweet little dog Mackie was on his way out due to old age and congestive heart failure. I prayed to Tara and made offerings, asking that I be present when he passed and that he pass without suffering. On that day, the 16th of September, 2016, I was there with him. And he did not suffer. It could have gone another way. I'd been gone a lot, moved, had to stay in odd places with different people. But somehow, my best little friend and I got to be together as he transitioned. And, as he passed, I kissed his little head and made prayers to Tara that he find her enlightened dimension and be fully liberated immediately. I don't know how other Buddhists might handle a situation like that, but that's how I practiced with impermance, loving kindness, patience and compassion.
But I couldn't save my dog. I can't save anyone. But like prayer can help, my practice can help others. And I can help myself. By taking refuge in the Buddha, Dharma and Sangha I turn toward a a spiritual path that will end suffering for all beings, eventually. One being at a time. Ultimately the truth of Green Tara is what we call the prajna paramita or an experiential knowledge of emptiness. There's nothing and there's no one and all of our suffering comes from clinging to the illusion that we really do exist and the universe really does exist the way we think it does. We try and try to make reality match our distorted views, and when it doesn't, we suffer. I wanted my dog to live forever. Everything dies. And I know that. I really know that. But suffering still happens unless I can get into the truth of Tara's wisdom, the prajna paramita. There is nothing to gain from Buddhist practice. Or any other practice for that matter. But there is a lot that we can do to help each other out.
Read more about this in my new book, How to Gain Nothing from Buddhist Practice. http://gainnothing.com