Below is a lightly edited version of the transcript, which isn’t perfect. I advise listening to the recording. [I also made a big mistake in the recording. I’m 78 years old; not 87. And I meant to mention an article by Andrew Holecek about the bardos. The idea is that some of the preparation for the death bardos can help with life’s bardos. Here’s the link to the article.]
Welcome to an episode of the From the Pure Land podcast. I'm Mel Pine.
I just took a little breath, a deep breath, and suggest that we all take a deep breath as we get ready to talk about November 5.
I'm going to do something different this time. I'm a writer and editor by background. I'm used to expressing myself on a keyboard. But I'm going to do this ad lib as though I'm talking with a friend or a group of friends and hope that the transcript comes out in a way I can publish it along with the podcast and blog post.
If you're listening to a podcast and you want to see the transcript, it will be posted on the From the Pure Land blog on Substack, and you can get there by going—by typing in melpine.substck.com.
So I was having lunch today with a friend and we were talking about how people are stressing out about the coming election. I mean, both of us have our own opinions about how important the election is, and it is very important. If you've been reading my blog, you know that I feel strongly that the sense of the United States as an aspirational democracy, a place of refuge and freedom, might change if Trump and Company are elected.
My father was an immigrant and my maternal grandparents were immigrants. So that's important to me, but I also might be less happy about some things in some situations—I mean, when you think about it:
The universe has been around for, according to science, almost 14 billion years. And the universe will keep going, according to science, for many trillions of years. We humans have been on the earth for 200,000 to 300,000 years. And when you think of that stretch of time…and when you think of us and our little spot on the planet Earth…in our solar system, in our galaxy, and pull back and look at the enormity of the universe, we're small potatoes. We're less than small potatoes.
We're also somewhat privileged to be able to worry about things like whether we're an inspirational democracy and a model for the world. If I were living in the Gaza Strip right now, I would not have the luxury of worrying about that. So, I say that just to put it into perspective.
Thinking about the November 5 and the election coming up, I thought about the Tibetan Buddhist word bardo. A bardo is a gap or transition, like the one between living and dying. And normally when we talk about bardos, we talk about the bardos of dying, passing through stages that in Tibetan Buddhism, lead to rebirth.
And we talk about certain bardos of living, the bardo of being born, for example, as a transition. There are other transitions we go through in life. The word bardo can really refer to any gap, any transition. So you might even say that from one moment to the next is a bardo.
Obviously, that's too small a speck of time to think a lot about. But I was thinking about my life today after I saw a picture—a picture came up that I love to see every now and then. It came up as a Facebook reminder from 44 years ago. It's a picture of me crossing the finish line of the 1980 New York City Marathon.
Well, I am 78 now, and I've had six joint replacement surgeries so I don't move as well as I did in October 1980. I walk with a cane sometimes if I’m going a fairly long distance or on uneven ground. If i'm going longer distances like at an airport, I use a motorized wheelchair.
So that phase of my life is a good example of impermanence. We Buddhists like to talk about impermanence. And I am no longer athletic enough to run 26.2 miles. In another phase in my life, I was traveling the mountains in Papua New Guinea. Long story what got me there on a business trip, but there are pictures of me in a t-shirt and shorts wandering the Central Highlands of Papua New Guinea. That's something I could not do today.
I'm in a phase of my life where I sit a lot and think a lot and read and research and write. I believe I am going into what I think of as a final productive stage of my life spreading the word—I hate to use the term “spreading the dharma” because it can sound funny to people and maybe it's overused—but spreading a message that I hope reduces your suffering, reduces the suffering around me in the world.
And in doing that, it invigorates me. It reduces my suffering. It helps me maintain that sublime happiness that I referred to in a recent blog post. It affirms my joy at being alive to be able to do things like this.
And I will be able to continue doing things like this even if Donald Trump wins the election on November 5.
I started to say—I don't think I finished the thought, but I started to say—that I'm not as comfortable as I am sitting down and writing. I have mild cognitive impairment, which manifests in difficulty finding the right word. So sometimes, there will be long pauses between one word and the next. You might call it the Joe Biden syndrome. And sometimes, the wrong word comes out. You might call it the Donald Trump syndrome.
So it's a bit daring for me to do it this way, but I wanted to get this message out and I wanted to get it out quickly. I also thought I ought to lead into a little meditation that I hope will help you, help whoever is listening, as we head toward November 5 and think about maintaining our equilibrium.
So if you would, find a comfortable place where you won't be disturbed. If you can't do that right now, you might pause this and return later. When you find a spot, you're going to sit comfortably. If you’re in a chair, your feet will be on the floor. If you're sitting on the floor or a sofa or with your legs crossed, that's fine, too. Even if you wanna lie down, that's okay. If you want to stand and walk around, that's okay.
You want to be comfortable, and you do want your back to be straight—relatively straight, straightish—so you can breathe easily in and out.
I like to ring the bell three times when we begin a meditation and when we end one.
And sometimes I say:
Body, speech, and mind in perfect oneness, I send my heart along with the sound of this bell. May the hearers awaken from forgetfulness And transcend all sorrow.
[Bell rings three times]
As the sound of the bell fades, we take a few breaths. We fall deeper and deeper into relaxation. It's always possible to get a little bit more relaxed.
Your eyes can be open or closed. If they're open, you're not going to focus on anything. You're just going to have them rest and not attach to anything. Just let them take in whatever is before them as a whole. Or, if you're more comfortable, just have your eyes closed.
And you're aware of your breath.
You're aware as your breath enters and leaves.
You're aware of any areas where your body is, or where your feet are, touching the ground or where you’re in contact with, as I am now, with a solid arm on my chair. Aware of any physical sensations at points like that. Maybe focus on one of them for a moment. I'm focused right now on that arm on my chair.
What does that feel like? Is there a temperature associated with it? Any discomfort Comfort? Any vibrations? And you just relax into what we call open awareness.
You're aware of whatever your mind brings to your attention. And if it's not producing anything, that's fine. You're watching any thoughts you have come and go, not being swayed by them, not getting attached to them. Any emotions, let them be.
And if you're aware of them, they usually just dissipate. Let them go. Thoughts, emotions, a pang here, an itch there, a sound you may hear, a movement you may see…just don't attach to it.
And you might say to yourself silently
May I be well.
May I be happy
May I rest in equanimity.
You might think about the people who agree with you politically, agree with you about the election, whether that's for one candidate or another or in the middle somewhere or totally detached from the whole thing. Whatever way you feel, think about the group of people who feel that way with you.
May we be well.
May we be happy.
May we rest in equanimity.
And now for all the people who are undecided or confused:
May you be well.
May you be happy.
May you rest in equanimity.
Now, I know this will be difficult for some of you, but I'd like you to think about the people who are planning to vote for that other candidate, the one you hope will lose. Some of them may have motivations you don't approve of, but you might think of them as people who are confused, as people who maybe need to feel connected. As maybe people who are lost. As people who are entitled to your loving kindness.
And you might say to them in your mind:
May you be well.
May you be happy.
May you rest in equanimity.
Now one more. For people all over the world, those who are hurting and those who are not, those who are in war zones and those who are not, and for all beings—that limitless number—of all sorts.
May you be well.
May you be happy.
May you live in equanimity.
Thank you.
[Bell rings three times]
You might need a moment to collect yourself. Focus on the room you're in or whatever space you're in. I think I'll leave it there. I'm tempted to say more, but I think that's enough for now. I wish you well going through the bardo of November 5 standing calmly like a tree with deep roots, able to withstand whatever winds come.
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10 Days to the November 5 Bardo