A Personal Interlude

I do not meditate. I do not practice. I am not part of a sangha nor do I call myself a Buddhist.

I don't believe any of the above excludes me from having a deep and sustained interest in Buddhist issues. But inevitably, with my interest in Tibetan Buddhism, the questions arise. Do you meditate? Do you practice? And so forth. Some day I might. I believe I should, simply for the regularity of it and for the mental and physical benefits that I know practice and meditation create.

From my first introduction to a Tibetan Buddhist temple, I have been fond of the spaces created in honor of the dharma. I simply loved the colors and energy of the space. I grew to learn more about very specific elements that are integral to Tibetan Buddhist architecture and acknowledge that in that sense I still have much to learn about it's design. About the philosophy and practice, clearly I could not be so interested in the space without being interested in the intent behind it.

I may speak with a blatant humility when I post about Buddhist issues and concepts simply because it is clearly obvious that I am not an expert. But I find that with a sustained exploration of Buddhist issues in my daily life, the world is different. Even more interesting. My angle on human behavior transformed.

I have come to this path and experienced this same feeling before. It has been a few years since I have delved into the Buddhist realm, which is manifest on so many levels and approachable in so many ways today. My very movement in life has been studded with impermanence and now, now I am married to a Captain in the US Army. In a strange twist of interest, my return to Buddhist studies brings to light a path that can serve as not only a coping mechanism, but something much more in my psyche. In the past, Buddhist texts have helped me cope with thoughts on the experience of death, this being critical in that I have experienced little death in my life, but this is an inevitable event for all.

Non-violence is equally a core of many Buddhist teachings. I find this useful but also turn to the fact that Buddhist history is replete with wars and military support of religious sects. No religion that I know of has been without war, waged both on it's own terms as well as being subject to another's force. Studying the history of violence of human beings is essential to understand how violence itself arouses.

While I often post in reverence to Tibetan Buddhist concepts, practices and masters, my thought is that yes, even religion can be dangerous. Religion and war have been intertwined throughout human history. Part of my own personal quest, in the teachings of the Vajrayana, are to understand how this can be overcome.

How this began....

In 2006 I was applying the finishing touches to a project that was dear to me. What it was originally intended to be and what it became are two different animals, but all part of the same story.

The original vision for the project, which stood as a beacon in my mind in those early days of research, was a map of the U.S.A. which illustrated the growing network of Tibetan Buddhist dharma centers, temples and monasteries spread through the country. Perhaps over time I would be able to visit many of these, I thought, time and finances providing.

I quickly realized the massive scope of such an endeavor. My thoughts then shifted to focusing on centers that had, on their grounds, a structure evocative of Tibetan Buddhist architecture, if not completely inspired in layout, by a building constructed in Tibet.

At the end of the decision day with the aforementioned project, I thought it frugal and wise to limit my scope of research greatly. In addition to tracing the route of Tibetan Buddhism's arrival and growth in the United States, I decided to use as case studies the plans and history of three centers in the state I was living in at the time. New York.

I did not know much about Tibet at the time, nor much about Tibetan Buddhism. I began digging through the library and online articles. I was completely immersed, tracing Tibetan Buddhism's essential links with the various Khans of Mongolia, the development and geographic route of Vajrayana and, of course, the storied background of Tibetan Buddhism's growth in the United States.

My final product was something I was glad for, in large part because pressures beyond wanting this project to be what I had envisioned started to weigh in. I wanted to graduate. I was ready to leave. I was done with references and guidelines. I was done with academia. Unfortunately, these pressures did lead to a point where I finished for the sake of finishing....

And as it is with many projects that have a sense of passion, curiosity and heart at the root, after several years of not actively working with any of this, I now return. The issues of Tibetan Buddhism- the practice, the history, the philosophy, the presence- intrigue me endlessly and hone my awareness to issues not even apparently relevant to Tibet nor to Buddhism.

Vajrayana Forms in Upstate New York was published through the Cornell digital library in 2008 and was the culmination of my time spent in the Historic Preservation Planning program at Cornell University. Tidbits of what I learned, and will continue to learn, will surface in this blog. In the meantime, I plan to travel the country (and possibly beyond) through these pages, visiting the numerous centers dedicated to the practicing and teachings of the Vajrayana.