Gunditjmara Ecology in Ancient Australia - The Budj Bim Volcano and Aquaculture Complex

Ancient Australia

At the dawn of time, it was the Ancestral Beings – part human, part beast – who brought what was previously barren land to life. At the end of the Dreaming journeys, the Ancestral Being left aspects of themselves behind, transformed into part of the landscape.

Passed down among the Gunditjmara people, supposedly tracing itself to ancient Australia roughly 37,000 years ago, this story is believed by some to describe the origins of the Budj Bim volcano, whose structure is likened to a giant being's head emerging from the earth, replete with cinder cone teeth.

In the wake of the Australian fires emerge the remains of an ancient system of aquaculture carefully crafted by the Gunditjmara, otherwise known as the Dhauwurd Wurrung, who fashioned their economy and spirituality in close connection with Budj Bim.

Such news has recently made headlines, with suggestions that the origin story for the Budj Bim volcano may be the oldest on earth. While this cannot be definitively proven given the difficulty of tracing the story historically, there may be a lesson embedded in it nonetheless. Here, we examine the ecology of ancient Australia through the lens of this account attributed to the Gunditjmara people.

Budj Bim Volcano

The Budj Bim volcano is among Australia's natural wonders, situated in the southwestern part of present-day Victoria. It is otherwise known by the colonial name Mount Eccle, which was subsequently replaced in some contexts with its original name Budj Bim, meaning "high head." Based on the geological record, Budj Bim likely formed approximately 37,000 years ago as lava poured out of the earth's crust, dynamically shaping the land like a being leaving traces of itself behind, thereby transforming into part of the landscape.

While it is unclear whether humans were present to witness its formation, stories about Budj Bim as well as the origins of other volcanic structures and natural landmarks pervade the eco-mythology of indigenous cultures. Budj Bim currently forms a central part of the Budj Bim Cultural Landscape, the only Australian world heritage location that has been deemed a world heritage site for its aboriginal cultural value exclusively.



Ecologically, the Budj Bim volcano is now covered in vegetation, mostly Manna Gum woodland that characterizes much of the overlapping Tungatt Mirring, or Stone Country, which is marked by rugged stony outcrops, thus preserving prominent lava-flow landscapes. The region's morphology documents Budj Bim's central role in Gunditjmara culture and ecology.

Budj Bim's last eruption was some 8,000 years ago, making it presently inactive. Most significantly, with a documented history of eel farming that dates back over 6,000 years, the region's terrain preserves traces of the earliest aquaculture system presently known to exist on earth.

Aquaculture Complex

The aquaculture complex of Budj Bim consists of a sophisticated network of channels intentionally engineered to divert water inland, much like its origin story which tells of ancient beings bringing previously barren land to life. Utilizing the natural geology of lava flow supplemented by an advanced understanding of hydraulics, these channels were engineered to carry eels and other creatures from the ocean into wetlands where they could be easily captured, such as present-day Lake Condah and others known to the Gunditjmara as Kerup, Tae Rak, and Koon Doom.



As a result of having developed this aquaculture complex, the Gunditjmara were able to form settlements, making further micro-climactic adjustments by utilizing the naturally occurring vegetation as well as the available stone materials for tools and architecture. In both a symbolic and literal sense, the Gunditjmara brought previously barren land to life through their aquacultural expertise.

Gunditjmara Ecology

The Budj Bim aquaculture complex represents an integrated system of landscape planning, reflecting mastery of hydraulics and water ecology, embodying the origin story that describes ancient beings emerging from the earth and bringing previously barren land to life. Gunditjmara land custodianship enabled a period of ecological flourishing until the beginning of colonial pastoralism and intensive settlement in the mid nineteeth century, contributing to significant cultural and ecological disturbances.

Newly exposed channels have come to the attention of geologists, archaeologists, and ecologists after much of the land was razed by the recent fires in Australia, uncovering the sophistication of Gunditjmara ecology. Budj Bim's origin story itself suggests an intimate relationship between beings and the earth, which is itself alive.



In light of the severity of ecological challenges we currently face as a global community, perhaps this ancient system of balanced aquaculture among the Gunditjmara can inspire present conservation and regeneration efforts in the realms of whole-systems permaculture and sustainability at large.

As the story describes, "At the end of the Dreaming journeys, the Ancestral Being left aspects of themselves behind, transformed into part of the landscape." In many ways, this dreaming journey and transformation are ongoing. To re-route the course of events, perhaps we must become lucid in the dream and return ourselves to the landscape. To be continued.

Source:

Gunditjmara and G. Wettenhall. The People of Budj Bim: Engineers of Aquaculture, Builders of Stone House Settlements and Warriors Defending Country. Ballarat: Em Press Publishing, 2010.

The Lotus Sutra - Dousing the Flames of a Burning House

Our House Is On Fire

Alarms brazenly blare amidst the blaze. Plumes of smoke billow upward, blanketing the surroundings in a soot-ridden haze. Toxic fumes sear into the cellular fabric of all, animals and plants alike. Our house is on fire.

Under such dire circumstances, one in their right mind would make every effort to put out the flames or at least escape them. Unfortunately, despite the warnings, regardless of how loudly the alarms blare, it seems that not many have heeded the signs of climate crisis. The intensity of the situation has only grown, leaving many feeling hopeless and disempowered. Meanwhile, the masses seem to prefer to turn away from this reality, distracting themselves with shiny objects that offer the illusion of comfort.

Despite the planet going up in flames, both environmentally and in various other spheres, humanity seems largely unmotivated to act. Our house is on fire, much like a striking scene depicted in the Lotus Sūtra, among the most popular of Buddhist texts. We draw on this scene, known as the "Parable of the Burning House," as an analogy for the present state of affairs. Perhaps some insight may be gleaned from this case study for the sake of expedient responses to the various fires, both literal and metaphorical, spreading across the globe.

The Lotus Sutra

A Buddhist scripture with many layers, in various ways documenting the transition between multiple systems of thought, the Lotus Sūtra often draws on parables and analogies to convey its teachings. Its first few chapters set the stage for a dramatic unfolding of events, both human-worldly and cosmological in scope. The tables are turned when the Buddha announces a completely new teaching, previously withheld on account of the inability of beings to understand. It is revealed that there is but a "single vehicle" (ekayāna, 一乘) to liberation and that all beings are of the nature to awaken. This single vehicle is the means by which they will all become Buddhas, whether they like it or not.



Upon laying the foundations through reference to setting, cast and characters, and a general sense of plot-line, namely to unite beings on the single vehicle bound for ultimate liberation, a revelation which deeply confuses some but infinitely inspires others, Chapter 3 of the Lotus Sūtra introduces the first of the text's major parables. As if from a helicopter above, we are dropped into a disaster zone. Here, we enter the Burning House.

The Burning House

The Parable of the Burning House begins with the Buddha describing to his disciple Śāriputra, foremost in wisdom, a story of an old, wealthy man who lived in a mansion with several hundreds of residents. Perhaps due to wear and tear from so many inhabitants running wild through its halls, the structure begins to rot and crumble. The present state of the earth is much like this decrepit building, overpopulated and treated carelessly, tread upon without concern for sustainability. In his description of events, the Buddha exclaims:

Suddenly and unexpectedly, fires break out everywhere, setting the house swiftly aflame. The children of this man, ten, twenty, or thirty in number are in the house. The affluent man, seeing the fire breaking out everywhere, becomes alarmed and terrified. He thinks:

"I am capable of escaping through the burning entrance in safety, but my children are absorbed in play within the burning house and are not aware [of the fire], do not know, are not alarmed or terrified, and the fire is approaching them! They are not troubled about their suffering nor do they intend to leave the house."

The great majority of humankind seem like these children, too absorbed in fun and games to notice or care about the flames that threaten to engulf them. We are like children whose attention is consumed by play-things, ignoring the severity of the situation around us. The father is the only one to notice, reflecting further:

There is only one entrance to this house and it is very narrow. The children, who are immature and still unaware, are attached to their place of play. They may fall into danger and be burned by the fire. I should now tell them of the danger; this house is already burning! They must escape as quickly as they can to avoid being burned by the fire!

Alas, despite beckoning his children to leave the house before the flames consume them, they pay no attention to his pleas. Likewise with our present circumstances. Despite repeated warnings, most have not responded sufficiently to the severity of the ecological crisis for reasons ranging from perceived inability to make a difference given the scope of the situation to sheer ignorance.



Perhaps some children in the burning house are wiser than others, but all are nonetheless small and relatively helpless. Indeed, the Buddha sums up the situation thus:

Although their father in his concern has given them the proper advice, the children are immersed in their play and do not accept it; they are neither alarmed nor afraid and have no intention of leaving [the burning house]. Moreover, they do not even know what a fire is, the condition of the house, or what they may lose. They merely run about, back and forth, looking at their father.

Under such circumstances, what can be done?

Skillful Means

A central theme of the Lotus Sūtra that features explicitly in the Parable of the Burning House is "skillful means," from the Sanskrit upāya, rendered 方便 in Chinese. Such "skillful means" are a pedagogical tool, a teaching device, intended to package and deliver a lesson in a context-appropriate manner.

The effective application of skillful means requires contemplative discernment. How can the teachings be adapted to the context? Given the audience, what does the situation call for? How can one get the message across to beings under these particular circumstances? The Buddha explains:

Since the father already knew that his children were attached to various rare toys and unusual things that each of them liked, he said to them:

"The toys you are fond of are rare and hard to obtain. If you do not take them you will certainly regret it later. Right now, outside the house, there are three kinds of carts. One is yoked to a sheep, one to a deer, and one to an ox. Go play with them. Children! Run out of this burning house immediately and I will give you whatever you want!"

The children, hearing what their father had said about the rare toys, became excited and, in their eagerness to get to them they pushed each other out of the way in a mad rush out of the burning house. Then the affluent man saw that his children had got out safely and were sitting unharmed in an open area at a crossroad. He was relieved, happy, and joyful.

By appealing to their preference for play, the father successfully lures the children safely out of the burning house. His motive is pure — spare their lives and health. The "means" entail giving in to their desires in some capacity. Except once they're out, the father is asked to deliver on his promise.

In place of the exact toys he promised previously, however, the father gives each of his children an even greater prize in return for their cooperation. The toy carts, sheep, deer, and ox, whose images he planted in their minds did not exist in actuality. Instead, each of the carts he bestows upon the children are all the same, larger than imagined, far more impressive. They symbolize the "single vehicle" that brings all beings to ultimate freedom and relief from suffering. We set the intricacies of this vehicle and the social complexities of its implications aside for the time being and instead begin to unpack the possibilities this parable might open up for addressing our present climate crisis.

Dousing the Flames

With the health and lives of billions at risk, the climate crisis and related pandemics of political, economic, and social magnitude demand an urgent response. In our present case, we may even be able to salvage the burning house, though not without first dousing the flames.

Perhaps one solution to the present situation is to appeal to what the masses want. What does the majority of humanity feed off of? If we are to get everyone on board the "single vehicle" that promises to bring freedom to all, some "skillful means" might be necessary to lure the masses on board.

But isn't the promise of toys deceptive? It seems the father had to lie to his children to get them out of the burning house. The Lotus Sūtra, however, maintains that no deception took place, perhaps because the intent was always to lead them to a higher truth than their otherwise myopic version of reality, following a narrow orbit around fun and games while the house was going up in flames. Through what means might we succeed in dousing the flames of our present reality? What skillful means might save us from the burning house? And how can the house itself, the very earth we call home, be rescued and restored? To be continued.

Ox Mountain - Fundamental Purity of Human Nature

Ox Mountain

Depicting yet another ecosystem out of balance, another environmental scene deteriorating before one's very eyes as a reflection of human nature's crumbling is the Confucian parable of Ox Mountain.

Written in the fourth century of the common era by Chinese philosopher-sage Mencius, second only to Confucius himself, Ox Mountain tells the all-too-familiar tale of ecological disequilibrium. A landscape once so pristine is suddenly depleted and turned into desolate wasteland. Human nature, Mencius writes, is subject to the same fiery assault.



Believing that human nature is fundamentally good, Mencius invokes the story of Ox Mountain in order to illustrate the potential to restore the natural state even after it has been stifled. Whether environmental or mental terrain, there remains hope for reforestation under the right conditions. Mencius reminds us that despite all outer appearances, regeneration of this original state is always possible.

Here we examine Ox Mountain in detail as both an ecological actuality and a metaphor for the human condition.

Human Nature

Among the primary virtues of Confucian philosophy are two qualities variously rendered 1) benevolence / altruism / kindness / compassion / humanity (仁) and 2) righteousness / justice / fairness (義). These two feature centrally in the story of Ox Mountain. In fact, they are likened to the abundant trees responsible for the mountain's lush appearance, its innate beauty.

Although perched high on the mountaintop, these trees (virtues) are unfortunately hewn away at the hands of humans. While they remain capable of regrowing, they are quickly depleted again and again through overgrazing, leaving the mountain bare once more. The system is repeatedly thrown into disarray.

We include Charles Muller's translation from the Chinese.

Mencius said, “The greenery on [Ox] Mountain was once beautiful, but since it was near a large city, it was attacked by lumberjacks. How could it retain its beauty? Still, by the respite gotten day and night, being nourished by the rain and dew, there was no lack of the growth of new buds and sprouts. But then cattle and sheep came and fed themselves, and by the time they were done, it was completely barren.” If people saw this barrenness, they might have imagined that there had never been any greenery. How could this be the mountain's original nature?

In the case of people, how could they lack the mind of humaneness and fairness? But the daily damage done to the goodness of their mind is just like the lumberjacks did to the mountain. Being chopped down day after day, how can its beauty have a chance to emerge?

Day after day...

Now barren, devoid of trees, Ox Mountain has become a shell of its former self. Those who lay eyes upon it assume this lifeless state, completely desolate, must be its original nature.

In actuality, its desolate appearance is the result of a complex web of causes and conditions including situational negligence, carelessness, and ignorance - noxious qualities that eat away at an originally lush ecosystem. Just as the mountain's original nature was brimming with life, humanity's original nature is characterized by humaneness and fairness despite their present depletion.

Purity of Mind

Such virtuous qualities underpin the fundamental purity of mind that Mencius saw within all people. While they may be trampled underfoot during the upsurge in greed and ignorance, leading to environmental illness, their roots remain firmly planted. As long as the virtues retain their roots, the health of the ecosystem may regenerate.

Much like the fires and other catastrophic conditions that ravage the earth, the possibility for an end to the madness and restoration of what once was remains within reach so long as the foundations, the virtuous roots, are preserved.

For Mencius, the roots of these fundamental virtues extend deep. Unfortunately, they deteriorate with neglect. Although Mencius associates depravity with animals, a potentially problematic association that deserves scrutiny, his main focus is the role of the vital breath.

Having some time to rest day and night, and breathing in the morning air, your likes and dislikes may be somewhat similar to those of other people. But due to your daily activities you are suffocated. Being suffocated, you can't get enough fresh air. Fresh air being insufficient, your goodness of mind is not nourished, and there will be little difference between you and the animals. People see our animalistic nature and assume that we have never had great endowments. How could this be our real disposition?

Therefore, if it is properly nourished, there is nothing that will not grow. If it is not nourished, there is nothing that will not die. Confucius said: “Use it and you will keep it; ignore it and you will lose it. It comes and goes at any time, and no one knows where its original home is.” What else could he be talking about but the mind?

Another two key concepts surface in these passages, "air" (氣) and "mind" (心).

The first (氣) is not merely any air, but the vital breath that imbues all with life, termed qi, the primordial source and sustainer. By cultivating and nurturing this vital breath, allowing it to pervade one's being, the entire system is purified.

By extension, the detoxification process applies equally to the ecosystem, as this vital breath pervades all. At the most basic level, clean air is a fundamental condition for the health of breathing beings, whether flora or fauna. When the mind, whose form "心" is intended to resemble the heart, undergoes purified by this vital breath, then all is healed and clarified. Likewise, the heart of the ecosystem at large must be sustained in order to prevent total collapse.

Mental and Environmental

From the mental to the environmental, the fundamentally pure state is that to which we must return. For Mencius, this original state is like the densely covered mountaintop, flourishing with foliage, only hacked away and razed to the ground when the circumstances are unfavorable. For much of the present world, such unfavorable conditions include fire, pollution, flooding, and an entire slew of other challenges. Such environmental challenges, Mencius perhaps inadvertently suggests, might stem from a toxic disturbance of mental equilibrium, including the deforestation of virtuous qualities of mind.

At least in the opinion of Mencius, one may resurrect the fallen trees. Virtues hewn away by the ax can regenerate if nourished back to health. Such virtues characterize the original state of mind, just as an abundance of trees characterizes the original state of Ox Mountain. Given the innate goodness of the mind, such a fundamental state can be restored even after harm has come to it.

For more on these matters of mind and its ecology, particularly in relation to the greater ecosystem, stay tuned.

Silent Spring - A Grim Specter

A Grim Specter

"A grim specter has crept upon us almost unnoticed, and this imagined tragedy may easily become a stark reality we all shall know," warns Rachel Carson quite prophetically in her "fable for tomorrow" Silent Spring, a story penned in 1962 of a blatantly undeniable truth presently afflicting the globe.

Who is this grim specter? He goes by the names corporate greed, the Amazon fire, single-use plastics, the Siberian fires, record high temperatures, the Camp fire, toxic air quality, the Australian fires, deadly carbon emissions, the Indonesian fires and floods, corruption... This list goes on. This grim specter assumes the identity of environmental degradation, climate crisis, anthropogenic global warming. By chance, have you met him? Does any of that sound familiar?

While Carson's Silent Spring, written over half a century ago, centers mostly around the harmful effects of pesticides, her message spans much wider. Take a look around, not just in the immediate surroundings, but at the scope of the global community as a whole. The world around us is in the process of collapsing. Both society and nature are in shambles. The grim specter has made his descent. Who can ward off his advances and how?

Countless Birds, Clouds of Bloom

Lauded as an environmental science masterpiece, Silent Spring begins with an idyllic image of society and nature in harmony, depicting a verdant landscape of rolling meadows and abundant wildlife. How could anything disrupt such utopian beauty?

There was once a town in the heart of America where all life seemed to live in harmony with its surroundings. The town lay in the midst of a checkerboard of prosperous farms, with fields of grain and hillsides of orchards where, in spring, white clouds of bloom drifted above the green fields. In autumn, oak and maple and birch set up a blaze of color that flamed and flickered across a backdrop of pines. Then foxes barked in the hills and deer silently crossed the fields, half hidden in the mists of the fall mornings.

Along the roads, laurel, viburnum and alder, great ferns and wild flowers delighted the traveler’s eye through much of the year. Even in winter the roadsides were places of beauty, where countless birds came to feed on the berries and on the seed heads of the dried weeds rising above the snow. The countryside was, in fact, famous for the abundance and variety of its bird life, and when the flood of migrants was pouring through in spring and fall people came from great distances to observe them. Other people came to fish streams, which flowed clear and cold out of the hills and contained shady pools where trout lay. So it had been from the days many years ago when the first settlers raised their houses, sank their wells, and built their barns.

As opening lines, this passage paints the peaceful picture of prosperity amidst the paths of pines and pristine places of our planet's past. We are provided vivid detail as to the interwoven textures of this landscape, unfolding in utter splendor and brimming with life. What could possibly disrupt such peace?

Strange Stillness, Impending Doom

Although painting a panorama of perfection, the story warps suddenly and unexpectedly.

Seemingly without warning, the beauty of nature vanishes before one's very eyes. All that remains is the barren and desolate. Anticipating the painful present, the portrait pivots into a precarious peril. Such panic-inducing impermanence is portrayed in the grim passage that follows.

Then a strange blight crept over the area and everything began to change. Some evil spell had settled on the community: mysterious maladies swept the flocks of chickens; the cattle and sheep sickened and died. Everywhere was a shadow of death. The farmers spoke of much illness among their families. In the town the doctors had become more and more puzzled by new kinds of sickness appearing among their patients. There had been several sudden and unexplained deaths, not only among adults but even among children, who would be stricken while at play and die within a few hours.

There was a strange stillness. The birds, for example — where had they gone? Many people spoke of them, puzzled and disturbed. The feeding stations in the backyards were deserted. The few birds seen anywhere were moribund; they trembled violently and could not fly. It was a spring without voices. On the mornings that had once throbbed with the dawn chorus of robins, catbirds, doves, jays, wrens, and scores of other bird voices there was now no sound; only silence lay over the fields and woods and marsh.

This is not the sort of stillness anyone would actually wish to experience, not the peace and quiet of rest and relaxation. This silent spring is the eerie aftermath of deafening cries from those begging for their lives. Such cries, unheard, echo through the mountains, fading into oblivion, having been ignored, or worse, caused by those who take pleasure in them. Once cheerful birdsong, next mournful melodies, then the haunting vacuum of nothingness. Such silence strikes at the heart and severs it into pieces. Rather than a peaceful silence, we are left with the grim fruits of environmental violence.

These scars of silence, unanswered cries of suffering, are carved deep into the earth.

Deserted By All Living Things

All that remains in Carson's narrative is the skeleton of what once was and may never be again, a desert landscape left in the wake of an ecosystem previously bursting with life. Carson continues her narrative with further painstaking detail, describing the land as deserted by all living things, a reality that may befall us as well if we continue to ignore the warnings.

On the farms the hens brooded, but no chicks hatched. The farmers complained that they were unable to raise any pigs — the litters were small and the young survived only a few days. The apple trees were coming into bloom but no bees droned among the blossoms, so there was no pollination and there would be no fruit.

The roadsides, once so attractive, were now lined with browned and withered vegetation as though swept by fire. These, too, were silent, deserted by all living things. Even the streams were now lifeless. Anglers no longer visited them, for all the fish had died.

In the gutters under the eaves and between the shingles of the roofs, a white granular powder still showed a few patches; some weeks before it had fallen like snow upon the roofs and the lawns, the fields and streams.

Such an apocalyptic scene, deserted by all living things, seems to reflect much of what has become reality today. With a world seemingly in utter shambles, we appear to have fulfilled the prophecy of Silent Spring, failing to heed its warning.

The People Had Done It Themselves

Most piercing of these lines are those that aptly conclude the chapter, which tell of the cause for such devastation. The people had done it themselves, writes Carson.

No witchcraft, no enemy action had silenced the rebirth of new life in this stricken world. The people had done it themselves.

This town does not actually exist, but it might easily have a thousand counterparts in America or elsewhere in the world. I know of no community that has experienced all the misfortunes I describe. Yet every one of these disasters has actually happened somewhere, and many real communities have already suffered a substantial number of them. A grim specter has crept upon us almost unnoticed, and this imagined tragedy may easily become a stark reality we all shall know.

What has already silenced the voices of spring in countless towns in America? This book is an attempt to explain.

Anthropogenic climate change ⁠— pollution, toxic elevations in greenhouse gases, rising temperatures, mass deforestation, and extinction caused by human activity ⁠— is the culprit. Even in 1962, Rachel Carson saw this reality. How many in the present day still haven't?

Silent Spring

While this may sound dismal, not all hope is lost. Rather than point fingers of blame and shame, a healthy sense of responsibility is needed. There remains much that can be done or abstained from in order to shift the scales and restore symbiotic balance.

In order to clean up one's act, one must recognize the mess one has made for what it is. Rather than wallow in said mess, active efforts to transform it are in order. Even dung can be turned into compost. So, what do we do with the present conditions? What hasn't already been done? In heeding Carson's warning from Silent Spring, how does one overcome climate anxiety and work for climate justice?

A healthy sense of urgency helps. Not panic, but urgency. What can be done in this moment to make even the slightest bit of improvement? There's no waiting for tomorrow, if we take Carson's message seriously. The simplest first step in response to such urgency is to spread the word. Not panic, but words that speak to values such as justice. To spread panic only piles further challenges upon us. While Carson's warning and our observations of the world around us may induce panic, such panic has to be transformed into urgency in order to have any meaningful impact. Panic paralyzes us. Urgency propels us forward.

In light of the constantly shifting terrain, stay informed and stay in touch. Stay in touch with the latest conversations on climate. Stay in touch with your communities. Stay in touch with the natural world so as not to become desensitized to its suffering. Stay in touch, in embodied relation to all there is.

To be continued...

Dissolving the Source of Stagnation - Loosening the Ground of Sedimented Mindsets through Equalizing Self and Other

Dissolving the Source of Stagnation

If the seeds of compassion are already latent in the mind, what can be done to facilitate their germination, particularly when the possibility for growth seems to have stagnated? With escalating tensions across the globe, the need for a scalable, sustainable means of dissolving the source of stagnation and loosening the ground of sedimented mindsets is more urgent now than ever before.

What approaches to political and environmental crisis deserve further probing? A rather simple but by no means easy practice is that of exchanging oneself with others, a form of compassion meditation that dissolves the supposed boundaries between beings. It is exactly this dissolving of the source of stagnation, melting away the assumption of hierarchical separation, that contemplative practices grounded in compassion evoke, upsetting the status quo of indifference.

In the very same section on the perfection of meditation (dhyāna-pāramitā) from the Bodhisattvacaryāvatāra by Śāntideva that we recently addressed, we find a directly implementable approach to the process of dissolving the source of stagnation, erasing the supposed boundary between self and others.

Equalizing Self and Other

A simple maxim which seems to not have clicked for far too many throughout history is "treat others as you wish to be treated" and related variations on the same theme. The Golden Rule springs to mind. Based on what has become of the world, it would seem that most people wish to be treated rather poorly given how they appear to have treated others, but this can't be the case upon deeper probing.

The issues we face as a global community stem from a fundamental misunderstanding of the relationship between self and other, founded on a fundamental misunderstanding of the very meanings of self and other. These constructs aren't nearly as solid as they've been constructed to seem. Their supposed differentiation dissolves under the searing lens of scrutiny.

Selfish activity flares uncontrolled when one's own desires, many of which even hamper one's own wellness, are placed above the wellness of others. Extinguishing the fire of selfish activity requires conscious, ongoing efforts to cease fueling the process of hierarchical individuation at the expense of the collective. Śāntideva directly expounds a contemplative practice for dissolving this egocentricity through actively cultivating an awareness of the equality of oneself and others, complemented by the practice of equalizing self and other.

One should first earnestly meditate on the equality of oneself and others in this way: "All equally experience suffering and happiness, and I must protect them as I do myself."

Just as the body, which has many parts owing to its division into arms and so forth, should be protected as a whole, so should this entire world, which is differentiated and yet has the nature of the same suffering and happiness.

Although my suffering does not cause pain in other bodies, nevertheless that suffering is mine and is difficult to bear because of my attachment to myself.

Likewise, although I myself do not feel the suffering of another person, that suffering belongs to that person and is difficult to bear because of his attachment to himself.

I should eliminate the suffering of others because it is suffering, just like my own suffering. I should take care of others because they are sentient beings, just as I am a sentient being.

When happiness is equally dear to others and myself, then what is so special about me that I strive after happiness for myself alone?

When fear and suffering are equally abhorrent to others and myself, then what is so special about me that I protect myself but not others?

If I do not protect them because I am not afflicted by their suffering, why do I protect my body from the suffering of a future body, which is not my pain?

— Śāntideva, Bodhisattvacaryāvatāra
("The Perfection of Meditation," verses 90-97, trans. Wallace & Wallace)

Seeing others as oneself, how could we wish harm upon anyone? How could we fight? Their suffering is our own. Our happiness cannot come at their expense, as it seemingly does for the blissfully ignorant who live in a virtual reality filled with artificial pleasures, a simulated sense of "everything is fine" that never amounts to anything even remotely satisfactory in actuality, given that this feigned way of being necessitates severing the bond between beings to promote oneself and demote others. Snap out of it. All wish to be happy and avoid suffering. Why should we treat them any differently than we would treat the innocent, infant version of ourselves?

When bodhicitta takes root, one comprehends that one's own suffering and the suffering of others are equally suffering. When one wises up to the reality that the burning of various parts of the whole we call the ecosystem, both near and far, are equally damaging to the whole, then one no longer differentiates the parts in a hierarchical system of preference.

In the process of such cultivation of the equality of oneself and others, the notions of "self" and "other" no longer hold any substance. They're convenient terms and useful concepts, but only up to a point. When they are pitted against each other, as if my happiness had to come at the expense of yours so that you have to suffer, or that your happiness had to come at the expense of mine so that I have to suffer, then we have failed to understand things as they truly are.

Global Sustainability

We cannot solve the problems that plague us from within the same consciousness that created them. Such consciousness must be radically transformed, lest there be irrevocable disintegration into entropy. Equalizing self and other both through contemplative practice, regardless of religious tradition or lack thereof, and in everyday activities is one means of dissolving the hierarchy of separation.

Our quality of consciousness is intertwined with our actions in the world. Once priority is expanded from individual to the indivisible, from personal to transpersonal, from subjective to intersubjective, then we begin to see the reality of the suffering that equally threatens all. The next step is mass-scale ecosystem restoration, similar to how undertaking a medicinal regimen naturally follows upon realizing oneself to be profoundly sick.

Once the flames are doused and intention is re-oriented away from self-centered, egocentric activity and toward global sustainability, the restoration of an ecocentric system wherein all is equally "center" will be possible. Only then can scalable, sustainable solutions take effect.



To be continued...

Extinguishing Fire - A Guide to the Bodhisattva's Way of Life

A Guide to the Bodhisattva's Way of Life

As one of the most consulted sources for the cultivation of compassion in Mahāyāna Buddhism, the Bodhisattvacaryāvatāra by Indian scholar-sage Śāntideva charts the path of practice undertaken by the bodhisattva — any being who is committed to awakening not for their own sake, but in service of all beings. In light of recent events both near and far, all of which play into the burning web of suffering in which all beings are embedded, such a path of practice is particularly relevant to dousing the flames.

The bodhisattva's path of practice is a way of life intentionally cultivated and embodied, not merely one of well-wishing from afar. In undertaking such training in compassion, one is moved to action, drawing near to the flames in order to extinguish them for good.

In undertaking such a path of practice, the bodhisattva, a being in the process of awakening, thus cultivates bodhicitta, the mind of awakening imbued with compassionate intention. Śāntideva's contemplative verses, as recorded in the Bodhisattvacaryāvatāra (i.e., A Guide to the Bodhisattva's Way of Life), develops this path of practice in stages, largely on the basis of extinguishing the fuel for the fire, the sense of a separate self. We offer here the beginnings of a series on cultivating compassion and extinguishing the flames.

Not Having Extinguished Self

Perhaps best known among Śāntideva's verses is a passage that reads, "The source of all misery in the world lies in thinking of oneself; The source of all happiness lies in thinking of others," a popular translation of verse 129 from the section on dhyāna-pāramitā ("the perfection of meditation") that circulates widely.

This segment traces itself to a triad of related verses that invoke fire imagery to convey the imminent dangers of self-centered modes and patterns.

Whatever calamities there are, and whatever sorrows and fears come to the world, they are all the result of attachment to “self.” Why is that attachment mine?

Not having extinguished “self,” one is not able to extinguish sorrow; just as one who has not extinguished a fire is not able to extinguish the burning.

It follows that for the sake of tranquilizing my own sorrow, and for the tranquilizing of the other’s sorrow, I give myself to others and I accept others like myself.

Such a sentiment of selflessness is echoed throughout much of the Buddhist canon, regardless of tradition, as well as various other spiritual and secular circles. Its underlying message is that selfish tendencies lead to suffering, while the inverse, particularly in the form of altruism, stands to promote flourishing in society.

Grounded in this understanding, the entire bodhisattva path is centered around such a philosophy of selfless service and the practice of extinguishing selfish habits. Not having extinguished "self," suffering arises. Nothing having extinguished "self," the world erupts into flames.

Fires Continue to Rage

With piercing language, invoking fire through simile, Śāntideva seers us with the burning reality that plagues much of the world, both literally and figuratively. While physical fire spreads across the planet, decimating all in its wake, the heat of violence and conflict seethes and ferments in its midst. These are by no means eruptions from out of the blue. The red has long been building.

The root of suffering is selfishness informed by ignorance and craving, which can be likened to a flame that takes only its own existence as essential, consuming all else in service of itself alone. Whether self-obsession or self-absorption, this fire feeds on the embers of greed, hatred, and delusion.

As fires continue to rage without pause, what can be done (or not done to cease adding fuel to the fire and fanning the flames) in order to counter their ferocity? Have all the options been exhausted, or...

To be continued.

Be Not Defeated - Realistic Resilience - Part I

Be Not Defeated

"Be not defeated by the rain" (雨にもまけず) begins an unpublished piece by the Japanese poet Kenji Miyazawa. Discovered in a notebook buried in a trunk found in the author's home after his 1933 death, it charts the poet's reflections on hardship and resilience in the face of challenges encountered throughout his life, but could just as readily document the struggles of any being in this world at any point in time.

Our poetic excursions this month have traversed multiple intersecting contemplative paths, ranging from Tang dynasty Chinese hermit sages who ventured along endless trails through wintery mountain landscapes in search of the upper limits of the world, all the way to twentieth century German philosophers of ontology seeking personal retreat in forest huts, even stretching back a thousand some years into the realm of Egyptian-Jewish-inspired ancient Gnostic mystic feminists spontaneously expressing highly unorthodox sorts of paradoxes, to list a few.

Here we undertake the first in a series of articles examining this little known Japanese poem from the perspective of contemporary contemplative ecology. Noting the author's reference to drought and other climatological challenges, we draw parallels to circumstances of degradation affecting the natural world in the present. Not only does Miyazawa poignantly reflect on such environmentally related difficulties, he also demonstrates the capacity to remain resilient in their wake. We thus follow in Miyazawa's footsteps by offering a means to cultivate such resilience, perhaps even to help restore resilience to the natural world. Given the rapid deterioration of the environment in recent years, such resilience is all the more necessary as we move forward in order for a future to be possible. Be not defeated.

Weatherly Whims

Translated by David Sulz, the poem begins with Miyazawa referencing the weatherly whims of the natural world, calling for the cultivation of resilience amidst their cyclic turbulence. Such images make their reappearance later in the poem as well, alongside even more explicit images of suffering.

Be not defeated by the rain,
Nor let the wind prove your better.
Succumb not to the snows of winter,
Nor be bested by the heat of summer.

Such reflections on the weatherly whims of the planet could equally apply to any period of time and extend across the globe, plagued as it has been by natural disasters and, in more recent years, man-made disasters. Even as recently as a few months ago and continuing through the past weeks, the northern hemisphere experienced its hottest recorded summer to date. Meanwhile, despite reduced coverage and attention, the Amazon rainforest continues to burn, while various regions have endured torrential downpour in the form of devastating hurricanes and monstrous typhoons and still others are ravaged by flames swept unpredictably by raging winds.



Be not defeated by the rain...nor bested by the heat of summer. Rather than ignore these trends, which beings have endured for thousands of years and increasingly through the present, Miyazawa wholeheartedly acknowledges their presence, yet asks us not to succumb to them. But how?

Be strong in body,
Unfettered by desire,
Not enticed to anger.
Cultivate a quiet joy.
Count yourself last in everything.
Put others before you.
Watch well and listen closely.
Hold the learned lessons dear.

Rather than leave us in the dark, fortunately Miyazawa offers some suggestions on how to cultivate such resilience amidst turbulence, whether in the form of weatherly whims or the fires burning within.

Desire and Anger

Be strong in body, he says, unfettered by desire and not enticed to anger. Simple advice but with significant depth. We offer an interpretation here.

When under stress, as most will attest, our default response is to seek some form of artificial comfort - whether through over-indulgence in food or drink, mind-numbing media, or other substances used to dull the senses and distract us from the stressful situation at hand. Desire is abused as an escapist outlet.

If at all possible, suggests Miyazawa, remain unfettered by desire. Such indulgences only bind and shackle us.



Of note here is Miyazawa's contemplative background. A devout Buddhist, his personal philosophy entailed perception of the dangers that undergird sense pleasures. Sever such attachments, he suggests.

At the same time, to become averse to the world, angry and repressed, is just as binding and shackling. Letting anger get the better of us, we are defeated. Be unfettered by desire, while also not enticed to anger, advises Miyazawa. Subservient to neither, one is then free.

How does one free oneself from these vices, as they're sometimes called? Desire and anger are natural, visceral responses to environmental opportunities and threats. In some cases, they serve to further our survival. Yet in more cases than not, they hurt us (and others, including the environment) tremendously.

Whatever one's personal philosophy surrounding desire and anger, most will probably acknowledge that they disturb balance and harmony at the very least, destabilizing the capacity to maintain peace of mind.

Rarely are desire and anger overcome overnight. Rather, the process of dampening their intensity and loosening their hold over us is gradual. The practice of silent, sustained meditation, in which one comes face-to-face with the mind in all its raucousness, is one way to intimately familiarize oneself with its inner workings, enabling an understanding that allows for a gradual undoing of conditioned reactions characterized by desire and anger. Through repeated practice (over years, decades, lifetimes if one is willing to entertain such a possibility) the resilience builds.

Realistic Resilience

Yet how can populations already struggling with issues of war, famine, and poverty develop skills such as resilience when the need for it is far more urgent than can be developed gradually? Such an invitation to remain strong despite the storm may be reasonably within reach by those privileged enough to already have their basic needs met, but what of those who struggle day to day under far more precarious conditions?

We hope to crowd-source possible solutions to this question. What can be done to imbue struggling communities with resilience? Rather than a surface solution, we're asking about systemic change. Please contribute to the conversation if this is of interest to you. We actively encourage your ongoing reflections.

Truly, how can a realistic resilience be made possible while acknowledging the severity of issues faced by marginalized communities?

To be continued.

Tending the Garden - Dousing Fires and Uprooting Weeds

Dousing Fires

In these uncertain times plagued by violence and destruction across the globe, we are constantly bombarded with the heat of tension and heaps of stress that may ignite into flames.

If our house went up in flames, wouldn’t we want to put it out? Yet if there was a raging fire sweeping over a hill in the distance, we might not feel as immediately threatened. Instead, we may neglect dousing the flames.

Yet dousing fires is an urgent matter, no matter how close or far they are. Reflecting on the unpredictability of fire would tell us that our house may soon fall victim to fire just like the burning hill. Now is the time to act, while we still have a chance. Similarly, if our own bodies were to burst into flames, wouldn’t we be ready to save ourselves by putting out the fire?

Look for Water

In the face of fire, our immediate instinct might be to look for water. Everyone knows that water puts out fire. Likewise with the strategy many of us may have learned as children: stop, drop, and roll.

Water (or rolling in the dirt) is the logical antidote to fire. Likewise, the fires that burn within have their own respective antidotes. So what about those flames burning within? How do we put out those fires?

In the Buddhist framework, such inner fires are treated as poisons. Each poison has its respective antidote. For instance, the flames of greed, anger, and delusion should be overcome by their opposites. Greed should be overcome with generosity. Anger and aversion, with loving-kindness. Delusion with wisdom. This is how one goes about dousing the fires.

Fight Fire With Fire

Easier said than done. What if there’s no water to be found? Sometimes one must fight fire with fire.

It's worth clarifying that Buddhist teachings never have us add greed to greed, anger to anger, or delusion to delusion. To fight fire with fire doesn't have to involve the same kinds of fire running up against each other. One fire, serving as an antidote, is carefully regulated while the other (a wildfire, the fires burning within) is uncontrolled. The regulated fire, in this case, is a skillful means to overcome the wildfire. Sometimes we must use regulated force to burn through and uproot unwholesome tendencies. Thus, the Buddha invokes another set of imagery to demonstrate how to quell the flames.

The task of dousing fires by fighting fire with fire can be compared to uprooting weeds.

Uprooting Weeds

Summarizing the Buddhist perspective is the metaphor of uprooting weeds from the “Mula Sutta.” In this discourse, the Buddha identifies the fires that burn within (greed, anger, and delusion) as unwholesome roots. He declares that one whose bodily actions, speech, and mind are overcome with these unwholesome roots will suffer in the present and in the future, in like manner “as a sal tree, a birch, or an aspen, when smothered & surrounded by three parasitic vines, falls into misfortune, falls into disaster, falls into misfortune & disaster.” (Thanissaro Bhikkhu)

Importantly, one who is free from these weed-like vines, these poisons and fires, is instead imbued with wholesome roots. The image that follows provides a detailed description of the weeding process, helping paint a picture of how to go about uprooting weeds.

First, imagine “a sal tree, a birch, or an aspen, smothered & surrounded by three parasitic vines.” These are greed, anger, and delusion, weeds that invade the garden of the mind. One must practice tending the garden. Here is how the process unfolds:

“A man would come along, carrying a spade & a basket.

He would cut the vines at the root and, having cut them at the root, would dig around them. 

Having dug around them, he would pull them out, even down to the rootlets. 

He would cut the stalks of the vines. 

Having cut them, he would slice them into splinters. 

Having sliced them into splinters, he would pound them into bits. 

Having pounded them into bits, he would dry them in the wind & sun. 

Having dried them in the wind & sun, he would burn them in a fire. 

Having burned them in a fire, he would reduce them to powdered ash. 

Having reduced them to powdered ash, he would winnow them before a high wind or let them be washed away in a swift-flowing stream. 

In that way the parasitic vines would have their root destroyed, made like a palmyra stump, deprived of the conditions of development, not destined for future arising.” (Thanissaro Bhikkhu)

Tending the Garden

Through this process, one is sure to uproot the weeds (unwholesome habits), thus tending the garden (one's mind) with care and creating the conditions for flourishing.

A person who is able to weed out unwholesome roots may then plant wholesome roots in their place, again tending the garden and supporting its health. These wholesome roots will generate wholesome fruits. Thus, one will neither suffer in the present nor in the future, as one's mind will be free of weeds, poison, fire, and invasive vines that threaten to choke its saplings. Meanwhile, both the social and natural worlds will flourish like a garden free from weeds.

What method will you use for dousing fires - uprooting weeds - tending the garden? We’ll address a few specific methods (e.g., mettā, satipaṭṭhāna, etc.) in the next posts. Stay tuned!

Amazon Fire Burning Within - Introducing the Inner Science of Natural Disasters

Amazon Fire

Amazon Fire... This term used to mean something quite different than it does today. Previously a kindle product, this tablet brand is now tabloid worthy.

The Amazon is on fire.

Surprisingly relevant to the Amazon fire is a teaching attributed to the Buddha and recorded in a collection of Buddhist wisdom called the Pali Canon. Spoken some 2,500 years ago, this particular discourse was later named “The Fire Sermon,” the Buddha's third teaching after realizing enlightenment. Here, the Buddha spoke to the fires burning within, which are arguably a major contributor to fires burning without...

According to the records available to us today, this is what the Buddha had to share on the fires burning within.

“Bhikkhus, all is burning. And what, bhikkhus, is the all that is burning? The eye is burning, forms are burning, eye-consciousness is burning, eye-contact is burning, and whatever feeling arises with eye-contact as condition—whether pleasant or painful or neither-painful-nor-pleasant—that too is burning. Burning with what? Burning with the fire of lust, with the fire of hatred, with the fire of delusion; burning with birth, aging, and death; with sorrow, lamentation, pain, displeasure, and despair, I say.

“The ear is burning, ... The mind is burning ... and whatever feeling arises with mind-contact as condition—whether pleasant or painful or neither-painful-nor-pleasant—that too is burning. Burning with what? Burning with the fire of lust, with the fire of hatred, with the fire of delusion; burning with birth, aging, and death; with sorrow, lamentation, pain, displeasure, and despair, I say.” (Bhikkhu Bodhi, Saṃyutta Nikāya, 1143)

Although addressed to a group of monks (bhikkhus), we can just as readily imagine the Buddha speaking to our condition today. Importantly, the same refrain is repeated for each of the physical sense organs (eye, ear, nose, tongue, body) as well as the ordinary cognizing mind as sixth. When we perceive with the eye, we tend to develop either greed, anger, or delusion toward the object of sight. We may seek more of what pleases us and develop aversion toward the unappealing. Likewise with the other senses, including the mind. This is completely natural as humans. The issue is the tendency to spread these fires recklessly rather than keep them at bay.



These three fires (lobha, dosa, moha, sometimes translated as greed, anger, delusion) refer to inner causes of suffering. Such fires grow in size and spread across the inner landscape, releasing smoke and obscuring our capacity to see (and breathe) clearly. Given their capacity to wreak havoc from the inside out, these fires may qualify as their own sort of natural disaster.

Burning Within

Certainly this isn’t intended to downplay the severity of the fires that sweep across the earth, but rather, to draw attention to their potential source in the fires raging inside us. In some sense, there is an Amazon fire burning within. Perhaps by putting out this inner fire, we can also quell the fires in the Amazon and elsewhere.

The fires burning within don't just appear out of no where. Every fire begins with a spark. Every fire can eventually be extinguished.

According to "The Fire Sermon" (known in Pali as the “Ādittapariyāya Sutta”), these inner fires are cause for the cycle of birth, aging, death, sorrow, lamentation, pain, displeasure and despair (saṃsāra). The fires burning within continue to burn precisely because we feed them the necessary fuel to perpetuate the cycle.

Introducing the Inner Science of Natural Disasters

Probing this cycle involves a study of the inner science of natural disasters. The pervasive dissatisfaction we tend to experience has its origins in unstable patterns within this very mind. While we may not be able to control the weather or natural disasters directly, we can create conditions that stabilize mental patterns through understanding the inner science of our own psyche. We may also take preventative measures to minimize damages, both within and without. This process requires plunging into the oceanic depths of our unconscious and bringing our findings to the surface where they may be scrutinized and challenged.



In Buddhist cosmology, the realm of saṃsāra is like a burning oceanic expanse of dissatisfaction, as reflected by the Amazon fire, or even visualized as molten lava. Imagine your entire inner world aflame, then having to pass through that blaze like those in the Amazon or near an erupting volcano seeking to escape. Interestingly, in Sanskrit, saṃsāra comes from the root saṃsṛ which means “going or wandering through, undergoing transmigration, course, passage, passing through a succession of states, and worldly illusion” (Monier-Williams). Passing through this cycle is excruciating. Yet on the flip side of saṃsāra is the liberating peace of nirvāṇa, which means to cool, extinguish, quench, or blow out.

As we continue to post about the Amazon fire and related topics, we intend to flesh out this inner science of natural disasters and offer tools for the transformation of the oceanic fires of saṃsāra into the cool peace of nirvāṇa. We hope these insights, which trace themselves to the historical Buddha and later Buddhist wisdom (as well as various other spiritual systems and even secular philosophies) will contribute to the dousing of all fires, both those that burn within and those raging without. Please join us on this journey.

Unity in Plurality