More on Prosperity
I’ve found in talking about Buddhism and prosperity that people tend to be surprised that the Buddha taught laypeople that it was all right to be prosperous. Somehow the way that Buddhism has come into the West—probably through a combination of its counterculture roots and the monastic or meditative bias of the books about it—we have this lingering notion that to be a good Buddhist one needs to be poor. Actually, this is not just our misunderstanding. I once read an article by a Korean Christian minister, who like many of his countrymen converted from Buddhism when he was young.
“We left Buddhism because we were tired of being poor,” he said.
So it may be that because the Buddhist tradition has been preserved in the monastic establishments, and also because the role of lay people was primarily to support the monastics financially, that this bias crept in. We must also acknowledge that the doctrine of karma is tricky, and can devolve into a kind of fatalism or false acceptance of injustice or difficulty. Of course that is not what karma means. Karma as a word simply means “action,” and The Buddhist doctrine of karma (as opposed to the early Brahmanic or Hindu once) preserves the notion of free will. “As ye sow, so shall ye reap” is a Buddhist teaching. It doesn’t mean that you shouldn’t bother to sow.
That said, we live in a supercharged materialistic culture, whose values celebrate wealth and material consumption. Buddhism rejects any extremes in life; it teaches the middle way. The sober realism of Buddhism is an excellent medicine at this historical time of planetary conflict between the haves and the have-nots—a time in which the planet itself is being treated as a have-not. Buddhist prosperity does not mean greed; it means generosity. The purpose of gaining wealth is to give it.
As one of the recent blog comments said, we need to undertake a serious study of all this. Monks of old may have preserved the Buddhist tradition, but few of us Buddhists today are actually monks. How should we live our life?
For me, incorporated in my practice, is the teaching of “right livliehood”, as taught by my teacher, Suzuki Roshi.
Wealth-seeking, or avoidance is not the point; the focus on “right livliehood” would keep our practice clear in it’s aim.
I’m glad you’re raising these ideas. What might a financial Middle Way look like in our affluent United States, as we inter-are with billions of impoverished people around the world?
What I hear on this topic is generally vague. Most of us agree that “financial security” is good and appropriate. What exactly does that mean in net worth for families and individuals?
I have some dear friends who are very, very wealthy. They are generous to family members and friends in financial difficulty, and give a lot of money to charitable organizations. And, they enjoy a degree of material luxury that triggers feelings of judgment and jealousy in me. Plenty for me to work with, obviously. It still raises a question for me: how much is ok, how much is too much?
I feel a discussion group for my sangha coming on…….
The prosperity of the soul evolves into accepting suffering not as a curse, but a gift. So now, as then, we begin every state of being openly willing to be, with sadness and fear equally approached as prosperity and indulgence.
Knock and the door shall be opened. Seek and you will find. Ask and it will all be answered, in silence. How deep the gift is sought equals it’s height.
In America, where 56 percent of every tax dollar goes to pay for past, present and future warfare, (greed hatred and ignorance), is it not perhaps best for the buddhist layperson of this time to remain voluntarily poor?
And, instead of “earning a living”, during this time on earth, “spend a living” finding true poverty of spirit; to get to that place of needing nothing, knowing nothing and doing nothing. Faith!
Perhaps now is the time and America is the place for a monastic laity!
Only problem is, you would be turned away from all the fancy western retreat centers for lack of funds. Vima would be doing flip flops with this sorry state of affairs.
I love my daughter. She is good at what she does. At 30 she manages to balance the demands of a household, a job, career, two sons, her needs. I watch her. Her attention to balancing it all exhausts me. Something always comes disturbing the balance. The dishwasher breaks. Husband can’t pick up the boys. The dog needs to go to the vet…keeping life in balance. They strive for a promise of prosperity. I see in her eyes it is not so joyful at times.
We live in such a complicated world. Desire for those things that create happiness for ourselves and loved ones is very strong. This is not a bad thing. But how do we balance our prospect of joy with the demands of lifestyles based on prosperity?
I asked my daughter: What would happen if you didn’t respond to all of the demands? She answered appropriately enough. It would all fall apart! I replied, “So what falls apart?”
She laughed nervously. She knows. It is a tough dichotomy to resolve, bringing together innate knowing of the unconditioned and experiences of the conditioned. Possibly we can appreciate prosperity in and of itself is not a problem. However its perceived coming and going might be.
Whatever the measure of our prosperity, we tend not to experience it. We inevitably grasp at the thought of prosperity, its quantity, its quality instead feeling its experience.
The experience of prosperity is immaculate, timeless, graceful. The experience of lack of prosperity is immaculate, timeless, graceful. Grasping thoughts of prosperity rather than feeling its experience is a source of misery. Countless times I grasp at thoughts of experience long gone or not yet come and miss the immaculate experience of presence that grace moments.
A great Buddhist saint wrote: Grasping at thoughts as experience is the Lord of Limitations. [And conversely], grasping at experience with thought is not Knowledge.
The difference in ‘experience by thinking’ and ‘naked experience’ is something worthy of recognizing. A practical side of Buddhist training teaches recognizing the difference. We know innately, like my daughter, yet resolving that dichotomy is difficult to understand. Somewhere between the samadhi of the meditation cushion and fixing the dishwasher the answer comes.
My daughter feeling prosperous in the moment gracefully asks: Dad, would fix the dishwasher please?
Her wisdom is greater than mine.