The
London Buddhist Centre Magazine and Programme September–December 2016
The London Buddhist Sept–Dec 2016
Contents Magazine: The London Buddhist 3 Editorial 4 ‘Some Divinity’? Maitreyabandhu on a new kind of consciousness 9 Towards a Buddhist Theatre Gus Miller on a radical new approach 10 The New Vajrasana Photograph by Magda Firganek-Fulcher 12 Deep Roots One of Indian music’s great masters, by Vandanajyoti 14 Diary The three-and-a-half seasons, with Kusalasara
Programme: Sept–Dec 2016
17 Introduction 18 Getting Started 20 Going Further 24 Sub35 & Sub25 25 Festivals & Special Events 26 Calendar September-December 30 Yoga for Meditation 31 PoetryEast
Contributors to the magazine Barry Copping (proofreading), a mitra, retired from scientific and technical publishing in 2014. His interests include choral singing and railways. Gus Miller is the Artistic Director of Fine Frenzy and a mitra living in a community at the London Buddhist Centre. Kusalasara works at a Buddhist-run arts centre in Bethnal Green. She is also a painter. Magda Firganek-Fulcher (photograph of Vajrasana) was involved in creating the gardens at the new Vajrasana. She loves white cherry trees, and suggests you look out for them in the Sangha Courtyard in April. Maitreyabandhu, who has been a member of the Triratna Buddhist Order for 26 years, lives and works at the London Buddhist Centre. His debut collection, The Crumb Road (Bloodaxe), is a Poetry Book Society Recommendation. Yarn, his new collection, was published in 2015. Vandanajyoti worked for the Karuna Trust until December 2015, spending two to three months a year in India. She was ordained in 2003 and now practises Buddhism and music in London.
The London Buddhist Sept–Dec 2016
Changing Worlds Everyone wants a better world. Many of us try to make that happen – some attempts are successful, others make it worse. But what would a better world look like and how would we behave in it? Perhaps there are even more preliminary areas to explore, though, prior to trying to answer these questions. What do we even mean by ‘the world’? And can we ever know it? It could be that our world is where we look for meaning. Maitreyabandhu demonstrates this, in the latest issue of our magazine, through the thoughts and poetry of Robert Frost. Perhaps what we call the world is simply a reflection of our own egotism, our moods and elations? Probing a little deeper, he steers us between the belief in an everlasting God (meaning from outside us) and the belief in an enduring self (an ultimate meaning within) and points to a certain ‘something’ that is much more mysterious. This ‘something’ is at play in Gus Miller’s mind, too, as he imagines the creation of a Buddhist theatre company. When certain conditions for creativity are present, he says, the ‘world’ is a flash of the collective imagination. Vandanajyoti went solo into another world entirely when she travelled to Delhi to study Indian music in the 1980s. Through discipline, commitment and a total immersion in it, she began
to understand that other world, only to realise it could never be her own. Well, Kusalasara’s world is definitely her own, as we discover through her diary of a year. But as the seasons change and her experience does too, ‘self ’ and ‘world’ seem less like two different things. The stupa at the new Vajrasana, in the photo spread, points to another sort of world altogether. The stupa is a traditional Buddhist monument in which ashes of the deceased are interred. It is therefore a symbol of transformation and of change – ultimately transcending both a fixed self and a permanent world. What, then, are we left with? Not nothing, not even a specific ‘something’, but a mystery we are not yet ready to know. Buddhism and meditation do give us tools, though, to enter this mystery. In fact, this is the purpose of all the events that run at the London Buddhist Centre and at Vajrasana. I do hope that your imagination is caught by some of the events in this autumn’s programme, leading you into new worlds that are waiting to be explored. – Vidyadaka
The London Buddhist online For commenting, following and sharing. thelondonbuddhist.org
3
The London Buddhist Sept–Dec 2016
Some Divinity Shaping our Ends The poet Robert Frost had a sense that meaning was to be found neither in the supernatural (God) nor in the intimately psychological (the self ), but transcended these distinctions. Maitreyabandhu investigates
‘The interest, the pastime, was to learn if there had been any divinity shaping my ends and I had been building better than I knew.’
– Robert Frost in the preface to a selection of his poems, 1942
O
ther people’s confidence can astound me. They often seem to know who they are and what their life consists of; they know what they want and why they want it. They can come up with ready-made opinions about war and global warming. Of course, to meet me, I’m much the same. But if I’m honest with myself, I can’t decide: as life changes – as moods, locations and other people change – I change too. My estimation of myself fluctuates; my self-sense changes depending on who I’m with. Despite nearly thirty years of Buddhist practice I still don’t really know who I am, what life is, or what I really think. Of course I know myself in the everyday sense, but when I look more deeply, the wires of motivation run off into the dark. What I thought was truth turns out to be the skewed thinking of a bad mood; what I’d taken to be aspiration was merely a passing bright idea.
4
So Robert Frost’s poem ‘A Masque of Reason’ resonates with me. In the poem, when Job meets God in heaven, he says to his wife:
Here’s where I lay aside My varying opinion of myself And come to rest in an official verdict.
This must be one of the attractions of God – a dream of perfect objectivity, in which someone can finally tell us: ‘This is what you’re like. This is your true worth. This is what your life has really been about.’ Christianity tends to locate ‘meaning’ outside the self in this way – all true meaning comes from God. The poetry of the seventeenthcentury Welsh poet, George Herbert, for instance – whose beautiful plainspoken verse anticipates Frost’s – is a conversation with God. A Herbert poem is a well-swept room in which he meets Divinity (here in the guise of ‘Love’): Love bade me welcome: yet my soul drew back, Guilty of dust and sin. But quick-ey’d Love, observing me grow slack From my first entrance in,
The London Buddhist Sept–Dec 2016
The view from Robert Frost’s front porch out over the mountains of New Hampshire
Drew nearer to me, sweetly questioning, If I lack’d any thing.
Herbert’s Yes to divinity, to the presence of God, has been replaced in many parts of the world by our No. The result is an increasing polarity between religious fundamentalism on the one hand and an increasingly strident, dogmatic secularism on the other. In modern liberal democracies many people believe there is no meaning, or else that the only meaning is to be found in ‘me’ – in ‘my’ family, ‘my’ money, ‘my’ career. In a world without meaning the obvious thing to do is to have as much fun as possible before the lights go out.
F
rost was born in 1874, and so grew up at a time of increasing religious doubt. The old theistic certainties were dying and God was leaving the world. Frost’s mother, Belle, was a devout Scottish immigrant; his father William – a hard-drinking, volatile disciplinarian – was a
skeptic. William Frost died of tuberculosis when Robert was eleven, leaving his wife and children almost destitute. After the funeral was paid for, Belle had just eight dollars left in the bank. In later years Frost described his religious journey as starting with Presbyterianism, then moving on via Unitarianism to following Swedenborg, and finally to ‘nothing’. And yet a good friend in Frost’s last decades said that the poet ‘liked to play down his religious sense of things’. His poetry, throughout his career, maintained a difficult balance between his mother’s faith and his father’s skepticism. So Frost wants to have it both ways. There’s something teasing about his poetry: an unwillingness to come out and make a definite statement, a dislike of certainties religious and secular. He once wrote in a letter, ‘I had had a lover’s quarrel with the world’ – he meant a quarrel between affirmation and denial. His poem ‘For Once, Then, Something’, for instance, is about someone looking into a well 5
The London Buddhist Sept–Dec 2016
Robert Frost in 1954
and seeing only his own reflection ‘Looking out of a wreath of fern and cloud puffs’. The poem is about how, when we look at life, what we see is our own egotism reflected back at us. In the poem, this reflection is ‘godlike’, i.e. inherently inflated and self-dramatizing, a church ceiling from which a bearded Creator gazes down through swirls of musical angels and sun-struck cloud. But then one day he seems to see ‘beyond the picture,/Through the picture, a something white, uncertain,/ something more of depths…’ But then it’s gone. The poem ends: What was that whiteness? Truth? A pebble of quartz? For once, then, something.
The poem refuses to commit: was it ‘Truth’ he saw, or nothing but ‘A pebble of quartz’? All Frost can affirm is his experience that for once there was something. He can’t believe in the certainties of God and yet at the same time he gently satirises the ‘self ’ as essentially self-centred and therefore devoid of meaning. Which only leaves us with that nebulous ‘something’. In this poem, as elsewhere, Frost refuses to drift into 6
metaphysics – into speculating about God or No-God. He knows that when we do that, we lose our grip on direct experience and get tangled up in reified abstractions.
W
hen I first started reading Frost I wasn’t especially impressed – homely narratives about repairing fences or swinging from birch trees didn’t seem especially ‘poetic’, or even meaningful. But as I read, the poems seemed to mean all sorts of things – even contradictory things – at the same time, like figures in a dream. On one level Frost’s poems are apple-pie stories of rural New Hampshire; on another they are about everything. They manage to be both specific and universal – ‘like some valley cheese, local, but prized everywhere’, as W.H. Auden put it. Frost’s poems are about living in the world, about doing stuff. He was not a religious poet – and yet he wouldn’t repudiate religion. He wouldn’t say ‘No’ outright to the idea of divinity, even while he couldn’t quite say ‘Yes’. He knew that in writing a poem you can discover meanings you didn’t know you were capable of. He knows you can find a meaning that, as he
The London Buddhist Sept–Dec 2016
wrote in the preface I’ve quoted at the top of this article, ‘it might seem absurd to have had in advance, but it would be all right to accept from fate after the fact.’ When I interviewed the poet Glyn Maxwell for a poetryEast event at the London Buddhist Centre he told me his poems were more religious than he was. The same could be said about Frost.
O
ne notebook entry of Frost’s reads, ‘There is such a thing as sincerity. It is hard to define but it is probably nothing but your highest liveliness escaping from a succession of dead selves.’ This gets to the heart of Frost’s poetry: ‘highest liveliness’ is only achieved by the sloughing off a ‘succession of dead selves’. For Frost the self is something our understanding never fully apprehends. The real self – whatever that is – is always on the other side of some sort of barrier, only ever experienced partially, indirectly. The ‘highest liveliness’, which for Herbert would have been God, is for Frost buried deep within oneself, inaccessible, but refracted, hinted at in a million details of life. Frost felt that in writing poetry the poet is given access to ‘the real, the deepest and sincerest bias of his will: the divinity shaping his ends’.1 It is in this sense that a poet ‘builds better than he knows’. This ‘sincerest self ’ has to be divined, just as the will of God had to be divined for Herbert – it is uncanny, occult, mysteriously hidden inside all our actions (including our thoughts). It is not the man or woman who sits down to write. For Herbert, then, the source of Truth, Beauty and Goodness is from above: God. For Frost, on the other hand, meaning is discovered below or beyond the poet’s everyday sense of themselves. Both these metaphors are on to something, but neither should be taken literally. One of the reasons that Frost won’t deny the religious sense must be because the meaning he discovered in writing a poem seemed inherent – a meaning he had uncovered, not a meaning he had constructed.
Frost’s poetry struggles again and again with the question: do we or do we not live in a meaningful universe? Many of his greatest poems portray the human being as a meaning-making machine in the midst of a meaningless universe:
He thought he kept the universe alone; For all the voice in answer he could wake Was but the mocking echo of his own From some tree-hidden cliff across the lake. (‘The Most Of It’)
But this is not the whole story. Frost believed that ‘religion and science, including scientific theories such as Darwin’s evolution, were two different metaphorical ways of perceiving the same reality’.2 There’s even a poem, a wonderful poem called ‘West-Running Brook’, that (metaphorically) explores just that. The sense that the source of meaning is neither impersonal and supernatural (God) nor intimate and psychological (me) but that it somehow transcends those distinctions, seems to me highly evocative and intuitively right. The notion that my motivations lie ‘outside’ or ‘beyond’ or ‘below’ my everyday consciousness chimes with my experience. Of course I’m aware that for Buddhism there’s no such thing as a really existing self or soul. But my experience is that there is such a thing as inherent meaning. This meaning feels both intimate and personal, and, at the same time, universal – as if there is a kind of consciousness in which the personal and the universal are no longer at odds. Being a Buddhist seems to me to be a way of getting closer to the meaning my life is trying to live out, its deeper pattern. This meaning has nothing much to do with my likes and dislikes, my ideas about who I am. And yet I see hints of it everywhere – especially when I’m on retreat and my senses are less city-fatigued and screenblind. At those moments I can see, in some halfconscious way, that I’ve been groping towards some ‘divinity shaping my ends’, as if I had been building better than I knew. 7
The London Buddhist Sept–Dec 2016
F
or much of our lives we are groping our way quite blindly, following hunches that may be either intrinsic to what I’m calling our deeper pattern, or else merely adventitious. Initially I trained as a nurse in Coventry. I thought I wanted to help people. But I left nursing to go to art school. On my first day of life-drawing I remember feeling that, finally, my life was on track. Later, when I arrived at the London Buddhist Centre on my bicycle, the sense of ‘divinity’ was stronger than ever – before the teacher finished introducing the meditation, I knew I was a Buddhist and always had been. And years later I started writing poetry. Looking back, it’s as though the meaning my life is wanting to live out – a meaning ‘it might seem absurd to have had in advance’ – might be something to do with beauty and the desire to help people. But as in poetry so in life: it’s never helpful to be too conscious about the deeper mythic pattern of one’s life. As Frost put it, ‘A poet doesn’t want to know too much, not while he’s writing anyway. The knowing can come later.’3 This sense that our life is trying to express some deeper meaning – expressed even in apparently trivial matters – a meaning we can only half-grasp and even then only after the event, is not something I can prove or even point at. It’s a sense. And of course we often get this sense mixed up with more everyday hunches, hints and urges – romantic day-dreaming, fame fantasies, fate. It’s not that. For most of us, the work is to distinguish, intuitively, between ‘some divinity shaping our ends’ and the imposter, the poser, the succession of dead selves. To grasp what Frost is getting at when he talks of ‘some divinity shaping our ends’ requires a kind of faith. One has to take it suggestively. Even the writing of poetry requires faith – you have to have faith that the sentence-sound that’s just come into your head, or the sight of people standing on a platform, contains something mysterious and meaningful that wants, indeed needs, to be said. Frost wrote, ‘The person who 8
gets close to poetry, he is going to know more about the word belief than anybody else knows, even in religion nowadays’. He talks about a ‘literary-belief ’, for instance, where the writer has to trust in the ‘thing-to-come, which is ‘more felt than known’.4 Meaning begins with a hunch, a kind of gut instinct; it needs to be translated into words and concepts, into something you can say. But something is always lost in translation. Perhaps the best ‘translation’ of our wordless sense of meaning is poetry, because poetry (at its rare best) points beyond words. Largely what I experience in my life is a ‘succession of dead selves’: the things I think I know, the stories I tell myself, the postures I adopt. And when it comes to writing poetry, it’s hard to know if I’m Frankenstein trying to animate a ‘dead self ’ or if I’m in touch with – I’m tempted to say ‘channelling’ – some divinity. What has all this got to do with confidence, mine or other people’s? Well, Frost gives me faith that mostly what I experience is a succession of dead selves that can’t be trusted, aren’t worthy of confidence – dead selves that mislead: over-used narratives, sob stories, practised opinions. He gives me faith that sometimes I can discover a more authentic, sincere self; a self which is not, paradoxically, myself – a ‘self ’ that is always on the other side of a divide, below or beyond the habit of being me. That deeper self has to be discovered, winnowed from a succession of dead selves. And sometimes when I write a poem or meditate or talk to a friend or simply look at a row of trees I seem to find a – what? – a ‘sincerest self ’ (as Frost would have it), ‘some divinity shaping my ends’? Neither is quite right. I can only say it is something. But when I try to appropriate that something – it’s already gone. ■ 1. Mark Richardson in ‘Frost’s Poetics of Control’, The Cambridge Companion to Robert Frost (Cambridge University Press, 2001). Chapter 9, p. 197. 2. Jay Parini, Robert Frost: A Life (Henry Holt and Company, 1999), p. 250. 3. Parini, p. 302. 4. Parini, p. 266.
The London Buddhist Sept–Dec 2016
Towards a Buddhist Theatre Gus Miller dreams a dream...
A
s a young director with utopian tendencies on the underfunded fringes of the theatre industry, I reached a state of mild burnout at the start of 2015. Aiming to relax a bit, I came to my first meditation class at the London Buddhist Centre. I got a lot more than I had bargained for. Theatre is an art form forged from the collective imagination of actors and audience. In the fleeting moments when that imagination unites in a state of deep absorption, a living ideal silently, palpably, enters the room. No matter what the genre or subject matter of the play, that ideal always has the same texture – a sense that our humanity is something shared, something beautiful, something burgeoning with a potential that transcends the mundane. I remember seeing Cheek by Jowl’s production of Chekhov’s Three Sisters with a Russian ensemble and, despite not understanding a word, in moments recognising every life on stage in my own. Naturally these experiences are rare in themselves. But on top of this, the risky conditions necessary for their arising are too frequently traded in for safety and slickness – the stolid unremarkability that the commerciallybound West End banks on. Whether due to a shortage of imagination, laziness or a crippling lack of subsidy, the theatre all too often settles for less ambitious goals than transcendence. But at the LBC an ideal of human potential was discussed that felt similar to that which I had tasted in the theatre. Not only that – it was backed up by a system of practices that could bring it gradually to life. I began to sense that Buddhist practice could provide a radical new framework for taking theatre to its fullest potential.
What a Buddhist Theatre would look like I don’t know for sure – it exists over the horizon at the meeting point of two ideals. But I’m sure that the necessary context would be a permanent company: a community of actors and creatives working together for the long term and perhaps living together too. The trust and complicity necessary to make truly fearless work is far more likely to arise in that context than it is with a group of strangers gathered for a short sprint towards a finished product. Too often actors effectively stop training on leaving drama school – neglect that would be laughable to a dancer or a musician – and their art stagnates. Whereas a context where ongoing training and creation go hand in hand could translate into productions that reach beyond themselves towards a sense of greater meaning. As with Buddhist practice, this work must have mindfulness as a foundation. The aesthetic quality of every action relates directly to the depth of awareness that underlies it. Although familiar to most actors, this is something that is rarely practised with depth or consistency and therefore remains barely understood. Having a goal that stretches beyond the work would enable such practices to reach to new depths. These principles are not unknown in secular contexts. But the lack of a shared value system always proves a limitation. An effective Buddhist ensemble, meanwhile, would have the ideal of Sangha to aspire to. Its purpose would be clear and its members could work vigorously with body, speech and mind, stretching their empathetic imagination and communicating Buddhist values to a new audience. ■ 9
After five years of planning and two years of building, the new Vajrasana retreat centre opened in May with space for up to sixty people to go on retreat in beautiful and inspiring surroundings. Designed and built entirely with Buddhist ideals in mind, it represents a major step forward for Buddhism in the West. Conceived by the architecture firm Walters & Cohen in conjunction with a working group from the LBC Council, it has been shortlisted as a finalist in the World Architecture Festival 2016.
The London Buddhist Sept–Dec 2016
Photograph: Magda Firganek-Fulcher
The London Buddhist Sept–Dec 2016
The London Buddhist Sept–Dec 2016
Deep Roots
Vandanajyoti immersed herself in an alien musical culture in order to share it with others. Here she remembers some of the lessons learned, and her teacher
S
itting behind a huge desk was a tiny old man in his eighties with white hair, startlingly white teeth, a white kurta and lively, searching eyes. This was the Principal and founder of the most prestigious music college in Delhi, the Gandharva Maha Vidyalaya, whom I had gone to interview on my second day in Delhi. He seemed to be listening as I explained that I wanted to find out about how music was taught in his college. He watched me for quite a while and said nothing. Could he understand my English? Was he prepared to answer my questions? Suddenly, he said, ‘Sing this’, and poured out a stream of highly ornamented and beautiful melody. I tried my best – and he said, ‘Right, I will teach you!’ He knew better than I did that I needed a teacher and was ready to learn. Back in London I was in charge of the music department of a South London comprehensive school. Students from Punjabi families were asking for lessons in Indian music alongside the instrumental tuition in Western music that we already offered. So that year, 1987, I studied for four months with this great teacher, whose name was Vinaya Chandra Maudgalia (pictured right). He was affectionately known as Bhaiji (‘Big Brother’) and respected by everyone in the Indian music world. On that first visit, he arranged there and then for me to stay across the road from
12
the music school and he instituted a rigorous routine. 5am: accompanying Bhaiji on his very brisk and usually silent morning walk. 6am: make his two cups of chai. 6.30: to my room for a lukewarm bucket-bath, meditation and breakfast (tea and toast with jam but no butter). At 8am, the other students would arrive and we would have a lesson until 10am. For the rest of the morning, I would sit on the floor for singing practice, playing the tampura, a beautiful drone instrument used by singers to accompany themselves. After a light lunch with Bhaiji and his family, I could sleep a bit and then at 4pm I had a lesson with Bhaiji to check I had understood the morning’s teaching. Most evenings there would be a concert in the nearby concert halls or in the music school itself. There I met some of the most inspiring North Indian classical musicians: Amjad Ali Khan playing sarod, Hariprasad Chaurasia, the great Indian flute player, Kumar Gandharv who sang an unforgettably magical full-moon concert in a mango grove, and many other great artists. Bhaiji was patient and understanding as I struggled to understand the structures and idioms of an alien musical form. Sometimes I felt frustrated when my musicianship was challenged and I could not grasp what Bhaiji was trying to communicate to me. He was unfazed and always encouraged me to carry on, even when my Western-style individualism was
The London Buddhist Sept–Dec 2016
in revolt at my strange situation. I had been taken on by a kind and committed guru, and was being trained in the ‘Guru-shishya’ model of music education that had been the custom for centuries in the North Indian music tradition. I was learning to submit to the care and instruction of my teacher but I also knew that he expected me to put all my effort into developing my individual skill and understanding of the marvellous music which he was passing on to me. I learned that each of the hundreds of ragas existing in North Indian classical music has its own set of melodic patterns, as well as tiny variations in pitch which a talented student would learn from their teacher as they explored the raga. Everything was taught by ear – although I ended up inventing my own system of notation, as in our Western music training our musical memories are not developed in the Indian way.
A
few weeks into my first visit, I made a great leap forward. I had a moment of pure joy when I perceived for the first time how repeating rhythmic cycles underpinned the structure of the music. These cycles often had sixteen beats (‘tintal’) but sometimes seven, twelve or fourteen, subdivided with heavy or light stresses. All performances are based on a precomposed song or ‘bandish’, each line of which covers one rhythmic cycle. I began to see that the soloist and percussion player were engaged in a complex dance where each in turn played the rhythmic cycle (called the ‘tala’) while the other freely improvised around it but both arrived back together on the first beat of the cycle. This arriving together could sometimes be delayed for two or three cycles while the improvisation went
deep and wide. The longer the return is delayed, the more dramatic and celebratory it feels to the aware listener. I realised I had begun to hear the rhythmic intelligence of the music – before this, I had only connected with the acoustic pleasure of it. But from that point onwards, the music sprang into ‘perspective’. These were hugely exciting discoveries which fuelled my learning through a Master’s degree and two more visits to Delhi before my dear teacher’s death in 1995. A couple of years later, while I was on another four-month stay, Bhaiji asked me to give a talk about Western classical music to students from Delhi University. I had not heard any Western music for months, completely immersed as I was in the idioms of Indian Classical singing. I borrowed a recording of Mozart’s Requiem to illustrate how western musical language works. As I listened, I had another insight, this time into my own beloved musical heritage. I was reconnecting deeply with the musical conditioning which has determined the course of my life. I felt a ‘coming home’. The tears began to flow. In a flash, I saw that I could never find a fulfilled creative resting place in the language of Indian music – not without living in India most of the time, speaking Hindi and devoting myself to developing deep roots in broader Indian culture. The Mozart showed me that my life would not follow that course. I had a good ear, I could reproduce what I was hearing. But that reproduction was not mine. It had a hollow core where the music of my heart was longing to flower. What I could do in Indian music was to be a respectful copyist and a dedicated listener, taking every advantage to learn a bit more when chance comes my way. ■ Catch Amjad Ali Khan, along with other eminent Indian classical musicians, at the Southbank Centre’s Darbar Festival, 16-18 September. Info and booking at southbankcentre.co.uk.
13
The London Buddhist Sept–Dec 2016
Diary of a London Buddhist Our spinning planet. By Kusalasara
Winter
A dead fox has been dredged from Regent’s Canal. I too might die like that, in the flush of health by some slight accident. Will death be like that? Humiliating, unexpected? Both, I suppose. It has been raining and there are two drunks up ahead. One calls out to me: ‘Watch out for the snails, Miss’. He is bending over, moving the snails off the path. Sympathy for the downtrodden.
Spring
Spring is hard: it is relentlessly blithe, and I am quite the opposite. In winter there is licence to feel melancholy, it is the most appropriate emotion for the season. But sadness still grips me even as the lambs skip and the small birds sing and the incongruence is acute and hard to bear. As the season gets fully underway the tussle ends and I too am happy, but suspiciously so. The scent of blossom, the sun’s light through new leaves, the promise of I don’t know what, have me enchanted. I surrender! Spring casts her spell, optimism no longer seems such a dangerous lie. One night when I am away from home, for no apparent reason the feeling comes once again, stronger than ever. I wake in the night in the midst of a profound pleasure. It is as though a blazing bonfire has been lit some distance away and I am able to bask in its heat. I neither see the bonfire nor know about it – all I know is that the warmth I enjoy is coming from somewhere else. 14
Back in London I am attempting to paint the cherry blossom, third day in a row. As soon as I open my watercolours and begin to concentrate, a gang of kids, mostly girls, whirl in and begin to pull at the branches, shaking the blossom down in torrents. They run from tree to tree, filling the air and covering the ground with petals. The tree I am sitting under doesn’t escape their grasp. I feel like I am in some daemonic snow dome. Shouts drift out of the throng: ‘It’s breaking!’ (exultant). ‘Shake this one.’ ‘I don’t care!’ There is some tentative swearing – they are testing their wings. ‘That’s actually nature’ (a lone protest). One girl comes up to me, breathless. ‘Sorry for destroying your artwork.’ Someone gets pinched and cries. I am encountering the familiar problem of over-working my pictures. Intent on showing the difference between the evening-sun-lit petals and the rich shadows around them, I put too much paint in the dark areas and the pictures become heavy-handed. Too much focus makes the beauty become ponderous. How to restrain myself and keep a light touch? The question is relevant beyond painting, and both the children and I need to learn the same lessons. After an hour, the kids are still around. ‘Are you an artist?’ ‘Yes.’ ‘Do people know you?’ I am puzzled until the question is rephrased: ‘Are you famous?’ No. ‘Still, it’s a nice way to earn a living.’ If only. The next day the rain comes, straight down and heavy, decimating the blossoms, spearing petals to the ground.
The London Buddhist Sept–Dec 2016
Summer
At the Monday night class at the centre, Jnanavaca is demonstrating that all experience is mind-made. What we think is ‘out there’, the world beyond our body, is actually just a creation of the mind in response to certain stimuli. It’s not that nothing is happening out there, but that it isn’t as we believe it is. We divide the world up into things that are mine, things that are not, things we want and things we don’t want. We do this to protect ourselves against the precarious nature of our own existence, and it has its uses. But fundamentally it is a delusion which doesn’t protect us at all (see drowned fox, cherry blossoms). What does this mean? Implications flicker in and out of my awareness and I feel like I am teetering on the edge of something wonderful. The class reminds me of what first excited me about Buddhism. Walking home I remember those early encounters and the discussions I had with my boyfriend of the time about the mind’s deceptive nature. If I took over his head (he didn’t like that idea), maybe I would discover a whole world of experience that is totally different from mine. Maybe we even experience colours differently? How would we know? He wasn’t having any of it: ‘You aren’t going to tell me that red isn’t red.’ Almost accusatory. His gut instinct was that there would be repercussions to this kind of questioning and that it wasn’t safe. My method of selfpreservation was harder to spot. I did what Jnanavaca and others warn against, which is to crystallise this sort of exploration into a satisfying conceptual framework which then becomes a block to deeper insight. These thoughts emerge during my four-minute walk home from the Buddhist Centre. Funny to think of those days, me then, that boyfriend, the time we spent together. At home all is quiet and dark. I live in a Buddhist community of twelve, all women. We
have had a few changes recently and I am not yet certain of everyone’s rhythm, of who I am likely to run into and when. One thing I can rely on is that there is always dinner waiting on the side. I eat quickly, as I always do when I am alone, and go to bed.
Solstice
I am travelling back from a solitary retreat in the foothills of the Pyrenees and have a few hours until my train. The day started with a change of pace from the timelessness of the preceding days: hurried packing and a hurried goodbye to the place I have become so intimate with. My French is not very good but I have learned some new words: ‘loir’, the squirrel-like dormice that would visit my room each night on my retreat. Also ‘grève’ – strike. This word I picked up on my way to the retreat, when on the first day I only got as far as Paris. I texted my friend Vassika, hoping she was in town. She replied immediately: ‘Yes of course you can stay, come to the Buddhist Centre.’ So after Sangha night at the Paris Buddhist Centre I found myself eating sorbet in Montmartre with Vassika and her other guests. The tiny flat was busy that night and I shared a bed with Barbara from Spain, en route to her ordination in England. She was travelling with her preceptor and both were dressed symbolically in blue. We said our goodbyes at bed-time and just a few hours later I crept out into the dark morning to catch my train. Now I am sitting on the grassy slopes surrounding the fortress of Carcassonne, looking west over the roofs and treetops, adjusting back to the world of people. The retreat has done its work and for now, at least, I am happy, not a hint of suspicion! Late that evening I catch the night train back up to Paris. People are already asleep in their berths, it is dark and there is no space to move, so I climb into the bed in my clothes. And so, lying awake for most of the short warm night, I go from forest to town. ■ 15
Programme Sept–Dec 2016
Programme
One aim of the London Buddhist Centre is to help people achieve their highest potential by introducing them to Buddhism and meditation. The centre runs on generosity: all teachers and class teams offer their time, skills and experience voluntarily. We are keen to develop this culture of generosity (‘dana’), so you will see that many of our events are free of charge, but with an invitation to give what you can (of course you do not need to give anything if you do not want to or cannot afford to). This culture of generosity extends to all levels of the centre. For example, everyone employed by the LBC is paid a ‘support’ package which covers their basic financial needs (food, rent etc), with a little extra for spending and travel. On this basis, people give what they can and take what they need. It is therefore generosity that is the principal motivation for a deepening commitment, rather than status or the accumulation of wealth. Generosity is a virtue that is highly regarded in Buddhism and we hope that this quality is brought to the fore at the LBC. In particular, we hope that, if attending one of our free events, you will feel able to contribute appropriately to the running costs of the centre.
Booking Info
For many of our events, booking is essential. You can book online at lbc.org.uk drop in to reception 10am-5pm Mon-Sat or call 020 8981 1225 Twitter @LDNBuddhist Facebook facebook.com/LondonBuddhistCentre
Programme Sept–Dec 2016
Getting Started
For anyone interested in getting a taste of Buddhist meditation and those new to the Mindfulness of Breathing and Metta Bhavana meditation practices
Winter Retreat
What the World Needs Now
Led by Maitreyabandhu & Shraddhasiddhi
To help the world become a better place we need to become a bigger person. We need to train ourselves in becoming wiser, more courageous, creative, empathetic and committed. Meditation and Buddhist practice are tools for the flourishing of our life and for helping the best flourish in the world around us. On this newcomers’ retreat we will learn and explore meditation, practise mindfulness and uncover the imagination. Sharing five or ten days with likeminded men and women, in close contact with the natural world – away from the image-glut and information-overload of modern life – will give us the rare chance to uncover the innate depths of our mind. The programme will include talks about Buddhism, introduction to Buddhist ritual and periods of silence. Suitable for newcomers to meditation and those who have been meditating for up to two years. 22 Dec–1 Jan (10 nights) at Adhisthana. £520/£410 22 Dec–27 Dec or 27 Dec–1 Jan (5 nights) at Adhisthana. £310/£260
Life with Full Attention
Led by Maitreyabandhu & Shraddhasiddhi
Mindfulness is about living fully and vividly, without rumination or distraction. A systematic approach to mindfulness and authentic happiness, starting with applying mindfulness in everyday life and culminating in mindfulness of the nature of reality. The book Life with Full Attention will be our guide to daily practice. 8 weeks from 26 Oct. 7.15-9.45pm. £140/£110 (price inc. book). Booking essential.
Urban Retreat
Know Your Mind: Going Deeper
Led by Subhadramati, Vidyadaka, Singhamanas & Shraddhasiddhi The Urban Retreat gives you opportunity to have a retreat experience in the midst of your daily life. This year, there will be more silence and more meditation, and themed talks. We will support you with intensive meditation mornings, a silent day-long retreat, weekday morning meditations, evening classes, dharma talks, yoga, daily text messages and emails. The retreat is suitable for all levels of experience, though if you need to learn meditation from scratch, do come on the first morning. Sat 8–Sat 15 Oct. Full programme to follow. Free, booking essential.
18
Programme Sept–Dec 2016
Classes Lunchtime Meditation Monday to Saturday
Drop in and learn the basics of two crucial meditation practices in a lunch-hour. 1-2pm. All welcome. Donation/dana.
Evening Meditation Tuesday and Wednesday
Drop in any week to learn two fundamental practices that cultivate clear awareness, peace of mind and emotional positivity.
7.15-9.45pm. Free. Suggested donation £11/£6.
Open Mind Club Tuesday afternoons
After school club for young people aged 11–17.
Led by Srivati 4.30-5.30pm. Tuesdays 6 Sept - 13 Dec (excluding 25 October). Free. Suggested donation 10p-£1.
Daytime Class Wednesday Morning
Meditation and the Buddha’s teachings for more clarity, selfawareness, open-heartedness and peace of mind. This term we will continue our theme on the value of friendship and community in the spiritual life. Meditation tuition to newcomers except on the first Wednesday of every month (‘practice morning’).
10.35am-12.30pm. Creche facilities for children 6 mths-5 yrs, supported by experienced staff. Donation/dana.
Yoga, Chi Kung & Meditation Thursday Evenings
A meditative evening starting with yoga or chi kung, followed by sitting meditation, to bring harmony to the mind and body. Suitable for beginners. Wear warm, comfortable clothing. 7.15-9.30pm. Cost £11/£6.
Sub35 Class First Friday
The alternative Friday night! Meditation, discussion and friendship. An evening of practice with time for hanging out after the class. Everyone welcome, especially newcomers. 7.15-9.45pm (tea bar till 11pm). Free. Suggested donation £7.
Weekday Yoga
Drop-in sessions of yoga for meditation. These classes encourage flexibility, strength and awareness of bodily sensations. Suitable for all levels. Weekday lunchtimes 12-12.45pm. Free. Suggested donation £6. Mon/Tue/Wed/Fri evenings 5.456.45pm. Free. Suggested donation £8. No need to book.
Saturday Morning Yoga
Starts with yoga and finishes with sitting meditation. Class One: 10-11.15am. Class Two: 11.30am-12.30pm. £13/£10 per class. No need to book.
Day Events Open Day, Open House
Come and discover the LBC and what it can offer you. Find out about Buddhism, learn to meditate and try a taster session in Breathing Space, our project offering mindfulness for wellbeing. There will also be two tours of the building.
Sun 18 Sept, 11am-5pm (tours at 11am and 4pm). Refreshments provided & all events free. No need to book.
Introductory Days
One Sunday a month. Learn how to keep both your mind and heart in steady focus, with meditation practices that help cultivate openness, clarity and courage.
Sun 4 Sept, 2 Oct, 6 Nov, 11 Dec. 10am-5pm. Lunch provided. £40/£30. Booking essential.
Courses & Retreats Introduction to Buddhism & Meditation An overview of Buddhist principles and introduction to two meditation practices that offer a means to self-awareness, change and spiritual insight. Transform your perspective on the world and develop tools you can use for a lifetime.
6 weeks from Mon 5 Sept or Mon 24 Oct, 7.15-9.45pm. £100/£80. Booking essential.
Introductory Retreats
An ideal way to encounter meditation and Buddhism for the first time. So join us to learn two fundamental, far-reaching meditation practices, while living communally with diverse but like-minded people. 23-25 Sept, 14-16 Oct, 18-20 Nov at Vajrasana. £180/£140. Booking essential.
Outreach: Courses in central London Buddhist Meditation Foundation Courses
An ideal way to learn meditation – four-week courses supported by handouts, home practice and simple, straightforward teaching. This autumn we are offering both morning and afternoon courses: Saturday mornings (10am-12.30pm) starting 3 Sept, 1 Oct, 29 Oct & 26 Nov. Saturday afternoons (1-3.30pm) starting 17 Sept & 12 Nov. £90/£70. Booking essential. At 52 St Martin’s Lane, London WC2N 4EA Weekly drop-in classes and courses are also happening in Hornchurch, Essex (hornchurchbuddhistgroup.org.uk) and also in Mid Essex: see mid-essex-buddhist-centre.org.uk for details.
19
Programme Sept–Dec 2016
Going Further
If you know both meditation practices or are a Mitra or Order member, all these events are for you
Winter Mandala Retreat Visions of the Infinite
Led by Jnanavaca & Subhadramati
Buddhist meditation is not merely a technique for refining desires and managing stress. It is a vision of life born of a consciousness that transcends all limitations. Once liberated, this consciousness manifests in selfless activity, guided by wisdom and compassion. This intensive meditation retreat will explore this ultimate liberation. For those familiar with Triratna retreats and with at least 6 months experience of meditation. 22 Dec–1 Jan at Vajrasana. £520/£410.
Regulars’ Weekend Retreats The Mind Unleashed
Led by Jnanavaca and Sraddhagita
Inherent in consciousness is a yearning for freedom. Our minds want to expand, but usually we are trapped within self-created limitations. On this retreat we will explore ways to transcend these limitations and move towards freedom. For those with at least three months’ experience of the Mindfulness of Breathing and the Metta Bhavana. 16-18 Sept. £180/£140. Booking essential.
An Indefinable Spirit
Led by Maitreyabandhu
What is it that animates life, activates the mind and fuels the desire for more? Can we guide this force, this spirit, towards higher visions and deeper truths? Explore the Dharma more deeply on this intensive weekend. For those with at least three months’ experience of the Mindfulness of Breathing and the Metta Bhavana. 25-27 Nov. £180/£140. Booking essential.
Course
Meditation Essentials – dwelling with the gods Led by Singhamanas
How do we break through our day-to-day consciousness into a deeper connection with life, and with the lives of others? A four week drop-in course for regular meditators exploring the Buddha’s ‘Brahma Viharas’ – dwellings of the gods – each one a form of stronger connection.
4 Wednesdays starting 14 Sept. 7.15-9.45pm. Free. Suggested donation £11/£6.
20
Programme Sept–Dec 2016
Classes Lunchtime Meditation Monday to Saturday Drop-in meditation for regulars. 1-2pm. Donation/dana.
Dharma Night Monday Evenings
Explore Buddhism through lively seminars and talks, meditation and puja. Whether you have undertaken one of our introductory courses and want to learn more, or you have learned to meditate with us and are wondering what being a Buddhist is all about, you can drop in and participate any Monday evening. 7.15-9.45pm. Free. Suggested donation £7.
Evening Meditation Tuesday and Wednesday
Meditation is more than just a technique. After learning two fundamental practices, explore how to work with your mind more deeply and thoroughly. With led meditation, further teaching and guidance.
7.15-9.45pm. Free. Suggested donation £11/£6.
Daytime Class Wednesday Morning
This term we will continue to explore the meaning and significance of Sangha: spiritual friendship and community. This will include exploration of Dharma texts as well as stories from the Buddha’s life, our own lives and from the Triratna Buddhist Community. The first class of every month is a ‘practice morning’, devoted to meditation and ritual practices – a wonderful way to start the month! 10.35am-12.30pm. Creche facilities for children 6 mths-5 yrs, supported by experienced staff. Donation/dana.
Yoga, Chi Kung & Meditation Thursday Evenings
A meditative evening starting with yoga or chi kung, followed by sitting meditation, to bring harmony to the mind and body. Wear warm comfortable clothing. All welcome. 7.15-9.30pm. Cost £11/£6.
Meditation and Puja Friday Evenings
Bring the week to a contemplative close with meditation and ritual. Devotional practice helps us to engage with the Sangha and strengthen confidence in the Dharma. In this session, there will also be a series of special pujas dedicated to different embodiments of the Buddha:
Fri 23 Sept: Puja to Amitabha Fri 21 Oct: Puja to Vajrapani Fri 25 Nov: Puja to Shakyamuni Fri 16 Dec: Puja to Padmasambhava 7-9.45pm. Free. Suggested donation £7.
Women’s Class Monthly Saturdays
A meditation and Buddhism class for women who know the Mindfulness of Breathing and Metta Bhavana meditations. Led by Mahamani, Sudurjaya, Satyapurna & Tareshvari. 3-5.30pm. 17 Sept, 15 Oct, 19 Nov, 17 Dec. Free. Suggested donation £8/£5.
Lunchtime Course Meditation Toolkit: Making Meditation Effective
Six consecutive lunchtime classes exploring the basic principles that help us work fruitfully, creatively and playfully with the mind. Drop in to any of the classes, or come to all six. Led by Vidyadaka. Mon 26 Sept–Sat 1 Oct. 1-2pm. Donation/dana. As part of the lunchtime drop-in meditation class.
Transforming Self and World Monthly Saturdays
Mornings exploring Buddhism’s relevance to the social issues of the day and how we can apply the Dharma to transform both ourselves and our communities. Hosted by the Transforming Self and World team, with talks from Order members. Last Saturday of the month (except December), 10am-1pm. Free. Suggested donation £7. No need to book. 24 Sept, Sudurjaya: ‘How does the Discriminating Wisdom of Amitabha inspire me in my wish to work in my local community?’ 29 Oct, Mokshini: ‘What does India’s Dhamma Revolution mean for us?’ 26 Nov, Sudurjaya (theme to be confirmed)
21
Programme Sept–Dec 2016
Going Further
Continued
Days & evenings Meditation Days
It is easy to stop deepening your connection. Why not come and renew your inspiration? For meditators who know both the Mindfulness of Breathing and the Metta Bhavana. Sundays 30 Oct, 20 Nov (Total Immersion Day, see below), 18 Dec. 10am-5pm. Bring vegetarian/ vegan lunch to share. Free. Suggested donation £30.
Full Moon Pujas
These monthly rituals give a regular point of devotional focus and the chance to explore Buddhist ritual. In coming together on the full moon of each month, we are joining Buddhists across the world in a tradition that goes back to the Buddha himself.
Fri 16 Sept, Sun 16 Oct, Mon 14 Nov, Wed 14 Dec. Times to be announced. Donation/dana.
Buddhist Sunday School
Encouraging and developing our children’s mindfulness and kindness through Buddhist practice and storytelling. Includes meditation, chanting and craft activities. For 3-10 year olds, parents/carers welcome. Led by Jyotismati and team Last Sunday of every month (except December): 25 Sept, 30 Oct, 27 Nov. 10.30am-12.30pm
Buddhism & 12-Step Recovery
These days are for people who are in 12-Step Recovery Groups and are also interested in Buddhism and meditation.
22
Come and join us for a day of Sangha, fellowship and practice. For those familiar with the Mindfulness of Breathing and Metta Bhavana.
Led by Sanghasiha & Shraddhasiddhi Sun 2 Oct, 10am-5pm. Bring vegetarian/vegan lunch to share. Free. Suggested donation £30. No need to book.
Before I Die
By bringing attention and curiosity to thoughts and feelings about death it is possible to appreciate what is most important in life. By exploring our experience we begin to see that impermanence makes life possible; without it we cannot breathe. The day includes meditation, reflection and conversation. Led by Ambaranta and Kalyanavaca Sun 23 Oct, 10am-5pm. Bring vegetarian/vegan lunch to share. Free. Suggested donation £30. No need to book.
Chi Kung and Meditation Workshop
Bringing Body, Heart and Mind in to Harmony. Chi Kung means ‘working with energy’ which we will do by learning some basic movements and standing positions. We will then use the same energy in meditation to bring about an inner harmony and tranquillity. Suitable for all levels of experience.
Led by Jayaka Sat 29 Oct, 10am-12.45pm. Suggested donation £15 per session.
Metta: Total Immersion A day of practice to deepen our connection with the Metta Bhavana – the practice of
loving-kindness and compassion. We will spend most of the day unfolding the practice, exploring aspects we find challenging and refreshing our engagement with this transformative meditation. For meditators who know both meditation practices.
Led by Dharmaprabha Sunday 20 Nov. 10am-5pm. Bring vegetarian/vegan lunch to share. Free. Suggested donation £30.
Winter Fair
Join us for our lively winter fair and bring music, light and warmth to those dark winter days. With live music throughout the afternoon, freshly baked cakes, vegan savoury delights, chai tea, winter punch, arts & crafts, clothes, book stalls, a chance to buy presents and gifts for your family and friends, plus yoga and meditation. All proceeds go towards Vajrasana, our new retreat centre.
Sat 26 Nov. Yoga from 10am, stalls and music from 12-5pm. All welcome.
Deep Ecology Day
‘Nature is not a place to visit. It is home.’ – Gary Snyder. Deep ecology goes far beyond the study of the relationships between organisms and their environments – it points to a profound truth about our relationship to ourselves, to one another and to the world. A day of Dharma practice and exploration. Meditation, puja, poetry, sound and music.
Led by Sanghasiha and friends Sun 4 Dec, 10am-5pm. Bring vegetarian/vegan lunch to share. Free. Suggested donation £30. No need to book.
Programme Sept–Dec 2016
Heart of Mantra Chanting & Meditation
Mantras are sound symbols that can point towards the mystery and beauty of Enlightenment. The day will be an exploration of this mystery, and will include chanting, discussion and meditation. Suitable for those who know both meditation pactices. Led by Dayabhadra Sun 11 Dec, 10am-5pm. Bring vegetarian/vegan lunch to share. Free. Suggested donation £30. No need to book.
Xmas & New Year Day Retreats
Over the Christmas and New Year period, there will be several day retreats to spend in meditation and reflection, for those who know both practices. Sun 25 Dec, Mon 26 Dec, Sun 1 Jan, 10am-5pm. Suggested donation £30. Bring vegetarian/vegan lunch to share. No need to book.
New Year’s Eve and All Night Sit
Meditation and mindfulness through the night. See the New Year in with others in an atmosphere of contemplation, turning towards what is most meaningful and vital.
Led by Atula and Ambaranta Sat 31 Dec. 7.30pm-12.30am: Meditation, poetry, reflection and chanting. 12.30-1.30am: Light refreshment. Bring non-alcoholic drinks, fruit and snacks to share. 1.30-6am: Falling Awake all through the Night. Mindfulness in all activities
of body, speech and mind. For people who know the Mindfulness of Breathing and the Metta Bhavana. Donation/dana. Entry and exit every hour until 10.30pm, then 12.30am, 1.30am, 3.30 and for a puja at 5am
Retreats Sangha Retreat
This is a low-cost mid-week retreat with the emphasis on living and working together. The retreat will include study and discussion, teaching and meditation. We will spend two or three hours each day working together each day to keep Vajrasana beautiful. Led by Priyavajra 9-14 Oct. £100/£75. Booking essential.
Women’s Mitra Weekend Spiritual Friendship: Passion, Pride, and Paradox
On this retreat we will look at what happens when we open up to others and ask for help in order to lead a fuller Dharma life. We will see how can we learn more about ourselves, including what holds us back, through relationships with spiritual friends. Through reflecting on the Sangha Jewel we can learn to give what is really needed and receive what is of value, moving away from the merely comfortable into the unknown.
Men’s Weekend at Padmaloka: The Perfect Wisdom of the Gentle Buddhas
Vadanya and Padmavajra will be introducing us to some of the verses of the Perfection of Wisdom and exploring its beauty by dwelling in the Greater Mandala of Aesthetic Appreciation.
Led by Vadanya and Padmavajra 18-20 Nov. Book at padmaloka.org.uk
Volunteering Volunteering can be a satisfying and energetic way of giving to the centre. See the section of our website labelled ‘Support Us’ for more.
Monday & Thursday afternoons
2.30pm. Straight after the lunchtime class join in with the work period, cleaning the centre and looking after the shrines. If you would like more information or would like to chat with someone about this, please contact Vajrabandhu at vajrabandhu@lbc.org.uk or drop in at one of these times.
Led by Shraddhasiddhi, Mahamani and Kusalasara 21-23 Oct. £180/£140. Booking essential.
23
Programme Sept–Dec 2016
Sub35 & Sub25 groups
Sub35
Sub25
First Friday of the Month Sub35 Class
Third Friday Sub25 Class
The alternative Friday night! Meditation, discussion and connection. An evening of practice with time to hang out after the class. Everyone under 35 welcome. 7.15-9.45pm (tea bar till 11pm). Free. Suggested donation £7.
Second Saturday of the Month Meditation Morning
A chance to meditate together, for longer, cultivating stillness and friendship. 10am-12.45pm. Meditation experience recommended. Donation/Dana.
Final Friday of the Month Young Women’s Night
Join us to explore meditation and Buddhism in a friendly, relaxed and intimate environment. An opportunity to make friends with other young women at the centre and support each other’s spiritual practice. With meditation, discussion and tea. 7.15-9.45pm. Free. Suggested donation £7. Experience of both meditation practices required.
Sub35 Retreats In Pursuit of Liberation
Mostly we chase after pleasure and push away pain. But Buddhism teaches a middle way that leads to ever freer and more expansive states of mind. Meditation, talks and Buddhist ritual. Everyone under 35 welcome, including newcomers. 9-11 Sept. £180/£140. Booking essential.
Vibrant Mutual Association
If we want depth and meaning in our lives we need to pursue it together. Living as a community, eating together and sharing our reflections, we can embody Sangha – a living spiritual community. With meditation, talks and Buddhist ritual. Everyone under 35 welcome, including newcomers. 9-11 Dec. £180/£140. Booking essential.
The Sub35 team also runs a programme of events for men, including Dharma study and socials. For an invitation email nextgeneration@lbc.org.uk
24
A chance for those aged 16-25 to come together to explore Buddhism and make friends through meditation, talks and tea. 7.15-9.30pm. All those under 25 welcome, especially if it is your first time. By donation.
Saturday Meetup
An opportunity to spend a Saturday afternoon gathered with likeminded people under 25. A chance to meditate together, discuss Buddhism and eat cake! Saturday 5 Nov & 10 Dec, 2.45pm-5.30pm. All those under 25 welcome, especially if it is your first time. By donation.
Programme Sept–Dec 2016
Festivals & Special Events Open to all
Padmasambhava Day Festival Genius of the Uncanny
Led by Maitreyabandhu & Abhayanandi
This is a day to celebrate Padmasambhava: a potent symbol of transformation, the union of opposites, radical change and disruption. The day will consist of a morning of meditation with readings from Padmasambhava’s visionary life story. There’ll be a talk on the significance of Padmasambhava and the day will conclude with a Padmasambhava puja. Sun 11 Sept, 10am-10pm
Celebrating Dr Ambedkar Film screening: ‘Dr Babasaheb Ambedkar: The Untold Truth’ Hosted by Maitreyaraja
A portrait of one of the great Buddhists of the twentieth century and one of the most determined social reformers in modern times. This highly engaging film tells the story of Ambedkar’s rise from a poor, lowcaste background to becoming the first Law Minister in Nehru’s first Government in independent India. A heroic tale of one person overcoming huge obstacles to bring about significant social change within his lifetime and beyond. Sat 15 Oct. 6.30-10pm. Interval with chai and Indian snacks.
Dr Ambedkar Day Led by Maitreyaraja
The great leader and reformer Dr Ambedkar was born a Hindu but died a Buddhist. During his radical life he became a transformer of unjust social life in India. His significance and inspiration affected millions of people, and his connection to Sangharakshita (the founder of the Triratna Buddhist Community) continues to have a lasting and important effect. This event will mark the 60th anniversary of the occasion on which 400,000 people converted to Buddhism under the leadership of Ambedkar. Sun 16 Oct. More details to be announced nearer the time.
Welcoming Back New Order Members
Ordination is a highly significant aspect of the Dharma life which has the potential to radically transform the lives of many dedicated practitioners. On this celebratory, devotional evening will be welcoming back ex-Knut, ex-Stephen and ex-Ja who, all being well, will have recently returned from the month-long ordination retreat in Spain. Mon 31 Oct. 7.15-9.45pm. Suggested donation £7
Sangha Day Festival
Led by Shraddhasiddhi and Jayaka
Our relationships with others can create our strongest experiences. We have the capacity to feel deeply connected and loving, but also separate and isolated. On this day we will explore how spiritual friendship can help us transcend our limitations and become insightful, creative and generous human beings. We will discover how the Sangha (spiritual community) is the living context in which we can realise our ideals and practice the Dharma. Sun 13 Nov, 10am-10pm. Programme announced nearer the time.
25
Programme Sept–Dec 2016
Yoga for Meditation These yoga classes encourage flexibility, strength and awareness of physical sensations. Loosening up the body and deepening our awareness can be a great way into sitting meditation. Yoga and meditation are complementary practices. Weekday Lunchtime and Early Evening Yoga
Drop-in sessions of yoga for meditation. All levels.
Weekday lunchtimes 12-12.45pm. Free. Suggested donation £6. No need to book. Mon/Tues/Wed/Fri evenings 5.45-6.45pm. Free. Suggested donation £8. No need to book.
Yoga, Chi Kung & Meditation Thursday Evenings
A meditative evening starting with yoga or chi kung, followed by sitting meditation, to bring harmony to the mind and body. Suitable for beginners. Wear warm, comfortable clothing. 7.15-9.30pm. £11/£6. No need to book, just drop in.
Saturday Morning Yoga
Starts with yoga and finishes with sitting meditation. Class One: 10-11.15am. Class Two: 11.30am-12.30pm. £13/£10 per class. No need to book, just drop in.
Yoga for Meditation Mini-Course
Two Saturday afternoon workshops for people who practise yoga regularly. This course will explore how we keep our practice fresh, work towards mastery and challenge ourselves in both common and more complex postures. We will explore how to balance this challenge with letting go and relaxation, as we develop a more flexible, deeper mind through meditation. Sat 24 Sept and 1 Oct. 2.30-5pm Led by Danayutta. £50 for both sessions. Booking essential.
30
Programme Sept–Dec 2016
poetryEast poetryEast is an ongoing series of cultural events at the LBC, exploring the meaning and value of the arts. Each event focusses on the life and work of a single guest artist or writer, by way of an interview and a reading. Look out for another season in association with the London Review of Books in 2017, too, featuring Max Porter, Evie Wyld and James Meek. To join the mailing list, send a blank email to info@poetryeast.net. Michael Longley
Michael Longley is a leading figure in contemporary Irish poetry. His poems draw deeply on the Troubles in Northern Ireland as well as his father’s experience as a boy soldier in the First World War, often transposing them into the realms of Greek and Roman mythology. He has won leading poetry prizes including the T. S. Eliot prize and the Whitbread Poetry Award. He’ll be in conversation with Maitreyabandhu about a life in writing. With Maitreyabandhu Wed 19 Oct. 7.30pm. £10. Booking essential. At the London Buddhist Arts Centre (Eastbourne House Arts, Bullards Place, London, E2 0PT).
Modern Poetry in Translation & Sasha Dugdale
Celebrating the uniquely important journal founded by Ted Hughes that has brought the best international poetry into English since 1965. Sasha Dugdale, its current editor and a previous guest of poetryEast, will join Maitreyabandhu to talk about the business of crossing borders in poetry, and Centres of Cataclysm, MPT’s anthology marking fifty years of the magazine and a poetic chronicle of a century of war. With Maitreyabandhu Sat 10 Dec. 7.30pm. £10. Booking essential.
artEast Mathew Collings and Emma Biggs
Matthew Collings is a painter, art critic, writer and broadcaster. He has a monthly column in ArtReview and has written and presented many TV documentaries on art and culture including This is Modern Art, This Is Civilisation, Rules of Abstraction and What is Beauty. As a painter he collaborates with Emma Biggs, a mosaic artist, writer and tutor, creating works that explore the themes of light and perception. Amitajyoti will be in conversation with them about their life and work, after which they will present their artwork. With Amitajyoti Sat 26 Nov. 7.30pm. Free. Suggested donation £10.
31