Visitors

free counters

Monday, December 26, 2011

The Varieties of Religious Therapy: Buddhism

The Varieties of Religious Therapy: Buddhism
By Ryan Howes, PhD, ABPP on November 23, 2011 - 7:12am

The Varieties of Religious Therapy (VRT) is a blog series featuring representatives from twelve belief systems discussing how they integrate faith with their approach to psychotherapy. This installment, the twelfth of twelve, is an interview with a Buddhist psychologist and author. See the Introduction for a full description of VRT and the table of contents.

Twenty-five hundred years ago, an Indian prince named Siddharta Guatama sat beneath a tree waiting for enlightenment. He arose as the Budda - the "enlightened one" - and spent his 45 remaining years teaching the path to liberation from suffering; the dharma. Today there are over 360 million followers of Buddhism worldwide. 

Lorne Ladner (Ph.D., Pacifica Graduate Institute) is a clinical psychologist in private practice in Centreville, Virginia. He teaches meditation and Buddhist practice and directs the Guhyasamaja Buddhist Center in Northern Virginia. Dr. Ladner has written or co-authored a number of books including The Lost Art of Compassion: Discovering the Practice of Happiness in the Meeting of Buddhism & Psychology, and a chapter on mindfulness for the APA's recently released Spiritually Oriented Interventions for Counseling and Psychotherapy. Dr. Ladner was formerly an adjunct faculty member Argosy University, and he currently gives lectures and workshops in the areas of the psychology of compassion and other positive emotions, mindfulness, and meditation. 

Please take a deep, cleansing breath and enjoy these responses from a wise practitioner. 

What is the role of religion or spirituality in your clinical practice?

I would say that my spiritual practice plays a role in my clinical practice in two different ways.  The first is unspoken and relates to my own internal practice.  I practice in the tradition of the H. H. Dalai Lama which puts great emphasis on a spirituality grounded in empathy, loving-kindness, compassion, and altruism.  So, as part of my own practice, both when I'm by myself and when I'm with others, I actively engage in psychological methods for increasing those qualities.  So, that would include actively cultivating empathy and compassion for patients I'm working with.  Though I don't talk about that with patients, it appears that some people with whom I work over an extended period of time sense some of that.  Also, interpersonally or intersubjectively, those emotions and perspectives are there in the room affecting the interaction.  According to the psychotherapy research, so much of what is helpful or healing for patients happens on a non-verbal level in their having a different kind of intersubjective experience than they had in the past related to issues they may be facing. So, whenever a therapist can bring some degree of compassion into the relationship, that would have an impact on both people involved.

Then, another way that those things affect my clinical practice is more explicit.  I keep up pretty well on the clinical research related to applying meditation techniques in the context of psychotherapy and I've also written articles and books on that subject.  So, I often teach people mindfulness or other meditation techniques in the context of therapy.  If there is clear, clinical, scientific research indicating that mindfulness or compassion meditation or a visualization technique can help a patient with the specific problems they are bringing to therapy, then I bring that up, briefly explain the research, and offer to teach them that technique.  In general, I'll only bring up such methods when there is clear, clinical research indicating that they are effective in relation to the client's presenting problems. 

Since I have written about meditation and therapy, I also sometimes have people come in who are specifically interested in Buddhist practices from their own side.  In those cases, if someone asks me about a particular Buddhist practice as it relates to coping with their presenting problems then we may discuss it some as well.

How does your technique or theory differ from mainstream psychotherapy?

This question is a bit difficult to answer because over the past ten years or so integrating techniques derived from the Buddhist meditative tradition into psychotherapy really have become pretty mainstream.  That wasn't true when I started out as a therapist.  But, now there are well over a thousand journal articles just related to applying mindfulness in the contexts of stress reduction and psychotherapy.  And, then coming largely out of the Mind & Life meetings between leading scientific researchers and H. H. the Dalai Lama (along with other Buddhist teachers), there's also a fast-growing body of research on applying other Buddhist techniques as well such as compassion meditation, meditative concentration techniques, and so forth.  Books, trainings and workshops on all these topics appear more and more.  So, in some sense all of this is becoming fairly mainstream.  But, compared with most of my colleagues, I probably do actually engage with clients in more guided practice of mindfulness or other sorts of meditation during sessions.  I suspect that I also place more emphasis than average on issues such as looking a strengths (a focus of positive psychology) and enhancing positive emotions such love, compassion for self, compassion for others, gratitude, and forgiveness.  There is clinical research on the benefits of such positive emotions, but I suspect that my own interest in their role in mental health is also influenced by the Buddhist psychological tradition's view that such positive emotions are totally essential to human happiness and mental health. 
 
A new client comes to therapy reporting his main problem is feeling detached from God. How would you proceed?

I would ordinarily begin by exploring what their experience of feeling detached from God was actually like, how and when it had developed, and what their relationship with God had been like before.  Sometimes such experiences arise due to grief reactions and then it's important to explore the client's grieving process.  At other times such experiences arise due to depression and an overall sense of disconnection; in such cases I believe that the initial focus should be less on religion or spirituality and more on treating the depression and overall sense of disconnection.  And, then with some other people the issue is more specifically a religious or spiritual issue.  (Of course this can also be true in the other examples I just shared, so perhaps the distinction is more a matter of timing and emphasis.)  When someone is feeling detached from God and from their own spirituality, it can be quite helpful to have someone to talk with who is open to helping them explore their own beliefs.  I majored in college in Religious Studies, and then in graduate school also studied the role of spirituality and religion in psychology from a Jungian perspective.  So, I generally believe that if someone is troubled by a sense of distance from God, then exploring that together in a way that's grounded in that person's own direct experience, personal history, and beliefs can be very helpful, and I've often felt quite honored to get to work together with another person as they explore those kinds of issues. 

http://m.psychologytoday.com/blog/in-therapy/201111/the-varieties-religious-therapy-buddhism

Who Was the Buddha?

Who Was the Buddha?
By Toni Bernhard, J.D. on November 30, 2011 - 8:56am

The name Buddha means "awakened one." This is the story of how a young man became the Buddha. As with all ancient tales, we can't know what is to be taken literally and what is to be taken metaphorically. It doesn't matter to me. I'm inspired by his story either way.

The Buddha was born a prince in a small kingdom that is part of modern-day Nepal. His name was Siddhartha Gautama. His father, the king, indulged his son's desires and protected him from being exposed to human suffering. The king posted guards at the palace gates to keep Siddhartha from seeing how less fortunate people lived. He even had attendants hold a parasol over his son so he wouldn't experience heat or cold or dust. Everything unpleasant about life was hidden from him.

When Siddhartha was nine-years old, his father took him to a plowing festival. At one point, the nurses left the prince unattended under a rose-apple tree. In striking contrast to the noise of the festival, it was calm and quiet under the tree. Siddhartha sat cross-legged and became aware of the sensation of his breath going in and out of his body. It was his first experience of true calm and peacefulness. Soon his nurses returned and broke this peaceful abiding, but the experience had a profound effect on the young prince.

One day, when Siddhartha was a young man, he talked his attendant, Channa, into taking him beyond the walls of the palace. For the first time, Siddhartha was exposed to life as the rest of us experience it.

As the story goes, when he saw an old person with shriveled skin, bent over and leaning on a walking staff, he asked Channa what was wrong with him. Channa replied, "He's old. Everyone who lives for a long time gets old and looks like that."

When Siddhartha saw a person who was delirious with fever and whose skin was covered with blotches, he asked Channa what was wrong with him. Channa replied, "He is sick. Everyone is subject to disease."

When Siddhartha saw a corpse on the side of the road, he asked Channa what was wrong with him. Channa replied, "He's dead. We all die, sweet prince."

Then Siddhartha saw a man seated cross-legged under a tree, looking calm and peaceful. He asked Channa, "What sort of man is this?" Channa replied, "He is a homeless wanderer in search of truth."

Siddhartha was shaken to the core by this first glimpse of human suffering and by the man he'd seen under the tree.  He felt called to leave his life of luxury and become a wanderer himself. He sought the answer to three questions: Why do people suffer, could one find freedom from it, and if so, how?

Siddhartha's renunciation is unparalleled in history. At 29, he was a prince in the prime of his life—a life of power, privilege, and wealth. But he gave it all up. He traded his opulent clothes for a robe made of scraps of material found lying around. He ate only what was given to him. He slept under a tree for shelter.

He sought out spiritual teachers and undertook many different practices. He found that he could easily attain transcendent states of mind, but they always passed, leaving him with his three unanswered questions. At one point, he became an ascetic, starving himself in an attempt to gain spiritual awakening. This extreme didn't bring him any closer to understanding suffering or to the freedom that he sought than had the other extreme of a life of luxury and sensual pleasure at his father's palace.

So, Siddhartha decided to go off by himself. Recalling his experience as a child under the rose-apple tree, he accepted some much-needed food from a young girl and then sat down under a fig tree, vowing not to get up until he knew the answer to his questions.

As he sat, he was assailed by mental suffering in all the forms that are so familiar to each of us—the painful mind states of greed, ill-will, confusion, and their cousins: temptation, fear, and doubt. He just sat. After seven days, he had his great insight which people have been speculating about for 2,500 years and which I describe here based on my understanding of his teachings.

He saw that everything arose due to causes and conditions, and that everything was subject to dissolution—both the physical body and mind states of all varieties. When he saw that painful mind states arose as the result of causes and conditions and were impermanent (as opposed to being a fixed part of his identity), they lost their hold on him. He realized that reacting with aversion to them just intensified his suffering, but that when he just witnessed and acknowledged their presence, a contented peace came over him.

In this stillness, he at last saw the answers to his three questions: why do people suffer, could one find freedom from it, and if so, how? He became the Buddha—the awakened one—seeing clearly these things:

(1) Suffering is present in the life of all beings because everything that arises is subject to dissolution and so any satisfaction can only be temporary. Every one of us is subject to illness, old age, death, and separation from those we love. During the course of our lives, we will experience joy and we will experience sorrow.

(2) Freedom from mental suffering is possible because painful mind states, like all phenomena, are impermanent and so we need not identify with them as "me" or "mine."

(3) Freedom from mental suffering is attained by greeting our experience with an open heart, knowing that some of it will be joyful and some of it will be sorrowful. When we are openly present with whatever arises—not clinging to the pleasant and not recoiling from the unpleasant—we, too, can experience the peacefulness of a buddha.

The Buddha spent the rest of his life—45 years—as a wandering monk, sharing his insight with others, regardless of their caste or gender. He devised an astounding number of practices to help people understand suffering and to point the way to attaining the peace and contentment that he attained under that fig tree. I've written about some of these practices, such as the cultivation of compassion and equanimity (see 4 Qualities of Mind that Alleviate Suffering) and the practice of mindfulness (see 6 Benefits of Practicing Mindfulness Outside of Meditation).

It is said that soon after his experience under the fig tree, the Buddha passed a stranger on the road who was so struck by the Buddha's calm radiance that he asked him, "Are you a god?" The Buddha replied, "No. I am not." "What are you then?" the man asked. And the Buddha said, "I am awake."

For me, this story is inspiring because it means that, through our own effort, the peaceful contentment we see in statues of the Buddha is within the reach of all of us.

The Buddha's teachings have given rise to dozens of schools and traditions. Some of them have elevated the Buddha to a god-like figure to be worshipped. But the ancient texts make it clear that he was just an ordinary—if remarkable—person who embarked on an extraordinary journey of discovery. This is why I and many others don't consider Buddhism to be a religion.

To me, Buddhism is a path of practice that helps me understand suffering—my own and that of others—and teaches me how to open my heart so wide that it can respond with compassion to the suffering in the world, while, at the same time, resting in the peaceful contentment of a buddha. 

© 2011 Toni Bernhard. 

I'm the author of the How to Be Sick: A Buddhist-Inspired Guide for the Chronically Ill and their Caregivers, winner of the 2011 Gold Nautilus Book Award in Self-Help/Psychology. Website: www.howtobesick.com

http://m.psychologytoday.com/blog/turning-straw-gold/201111/who-was-the-buddha

Letting Go: The Power of Detachment

Letting Go: The Power of Detachment
By Steve Taylor on December 4, 2011 - 4:31am

A few years ago, an acquaintance of mine moved to Barcelona to begin a contract job. Within minutes of arriving at the airport all his luggage was stolen, including his wallet, with his money and the contact details for his job in it. At first he was in a state of panic, wondering how he was going to survive. He didn't speak Spanish, and didn't know anyone in the city. At first, he approached people at the airport, telling them what had happened and asking for money, but no one believed him. He went to the police, but they were unhelpful too. For the first few nights he slept rough on the streets, or on the beach, and stole food from finished plates outside restaurants. 

However, once the initial panic and fear faded away, he felt a strange sense of well-being. One night, after about two weeks of being homeless, he fell asleep on the beach with a feeling of liberation inside him, and a sense of being - in his words - 'in tune' with a deeper part of himself. As a Buddhist, he recognised that this was a spiritual feeling, connected to 'letting go of my normal identity and status.' From this point, his perceptions seemed different too - his surroundings seemed more real and beautiful. Eventually he went to the British Embassy, who loaned him the money for a return flight, but he felt no hurry to go back home - in fact, he waited another week before buying a ticket.

Another acquaintance told me how, after many years of unhappiness, she finally began to feel a sense of well-being in her late forties, when she went into her menopause. Part of the reason for this was, she believes, because she stopped being concerned about her appearance. As a younger woman, she had always been beautiful and had a lot of attention from men. As a result, her sense of identity had been bound up with her appearance; she'd always made an effort to look as good as possible, wearing a lot of make up and spending a lot of time shopping for clothes. Being thought of as 'beautiful' made her feel special.

At first, when she realised that her beauty was fading and that men were no longer as attracted to her, she felt a sense of loss. But soon this switched to a sense of liberation, as she began to realise that she didn't actually need the attention. She began to let go of her attachment to her appearance, and realised that, by placing so much emphasis on it, she'd lost touch with her true identity. She began to feel more authentic and much happier.

The key to understanding these experiences is the concept of attachment. Normally, as human beings we're psychologically attached to a large number of constructs, such as hopes and ambitions for the future, beliefs and ideas about the world, knowledge, status and achievements. At the same time, there are more tangible attachments such as our possessions, our appearance and our jobs or roles. All of these attachments support our sense of identity like scaffolding. They are the building blocks of our sense of 'I'. We feel that we are 'someone' because we have hopes, beliefs, a job, or because we're successful and attractive, and so on.

We think we need these attachments to feel happy, but paradoxically, letting go of them can bring - at least for some people - a deeper kind of well-being. Letting go makes us aware that the attachments actually clutter up our minds, and overburden us with demands. We feel a sense of clarity and openness, now that our 'identity scaffolding' has dissolved away. There's a new sense of energy too, since our mental energy is no longer consumed by maintaining the attachments.

But even more importantly, psychological attachments seem to obscure a deeper, more authentic part of ourselves. This 'core' of our being doesn't need external happiness, because somehow it exists in a natural state of fullness and contentment.

In other words, it may be that we've been looking for happiness in the wrong place: not outside, but inside. It may be that true well-being comes not from accumulating things, but actually letting go of them. 

Steve Taylor is the author of Out of the Darkness, and Waking From Sleep, described by Eckhart Tolle as 'An important contribution to the global shift in awarenss.' www.stevenmtaylor.com

http://m.psychologytoday.com/blog/out-the-darkness/201112/letting-go-the-power-detachment

Thursday, December 8, 2011

KarmaTube: Be Selfish, Be Generous

The Dalai Lama once said that the most generous act there is, compassion, is actually a selfish act: "If you want others to be happy, practice compassion. If you want to be happy, practice compassion."

What does generosity mean to you? Why do you give? What can you give? Here are some thoughts from a group of volunteers for CharityFocus, an organization that focuses on the practice of selfless generosity and small acts of kindness. How would you answer these questions for yourself?

Video from

KarmaTube: A Gift Economy at Karma Kitchen

A Gift Economy at Karma Kitchen
Imagine a restaurant where you pay-forward for the person after you. How long might the chain of generosity last? At Karma Kitchen, in three cities around the United States, it has gone on for close to 25 thousand people -- and is still going. Katie Teague provides a thoughtful and hopeful portrait of how gift economy can work.

Video from KarmaTube

Custom Search

In Search of the 'TRUTH' through the 'eyes' of a non-Buddhist

This blog is specifically created as repository of 'anything & everything' on subjects/topics/issues related to in general in my research on Buddhism. Am I a Buddhist? No, I am not but one who finds this 'faith' intriguing, mind-boggling at times. As one who knows 'nothing' much about the subject, only skin-deep, it is extremely challenging as a study project. Blog postings reflect my research findings and what I am reading. Theory in the absence of practice is merely theorist who 'knows' but may not necessarily have the ability/capacity to 'act' (ie. do) what is preached. One must practice as preached. Reading alone acquires 'knowledge' but practice results in 'knowing' and attainment.

Come with me on 'my journey' of search, share my 'confusions' and 'enlightenments' along the way to "free one's mind" and "fulfill one's heart" with compassion and love for all living creatures.

Join me, let us not only 'talk-the-talk' or 'talk-the-walk' but 'walk-the-talk' and 'walk-the-walk'.