The Journalist and the Buddha

Journalists talk to strangers. It’s what we do.

There is the biblical story of Abraham who,  while in the midst of an ecstatic conversation with God, is interrupted by three strangers who appear at his tent. Abraham immediately drops his prayer to take care of the strangers — to wash their feet, to give them food, and to chat a while.

The spiritual benefits of Abraham’s hospitality become known soon enough — his visitors later turned out to be manifestations of God. So it turns out there’s no difference between talking to God and talking to strangers, except that it takes time and effort to understand strangers as divine.

But talking with strangers in the ancient Middle East had distinctly practical benefits as well. They brought news of neighboring tribes, shared ideas about farming and herding, told of daughters and sons in nearby villages who’d reached marriageable age, and opened new channels for trade.

Anyone can talk with strangers, but it’s journalism’s central professional duty to do so. Across all barriers of race, age, nationality, color, rank or class, it’s the journalist’s job to ask questions of people who live across those barriers, to discover their news, their beliefs and conditions of life.

Journalism serves democracy by talking to strangers and by sharing their wisdom and life experiences with others. This brings strangers into society’s fold; and it brings us into their fold; which makes us not strangers but familiars.

The practice of talking with strangers strengthens society and democracy in innumerable ways. It evaporates dark secrets that could fester and explode. It alerts society to potential dangers, and it helps focus scattered resources on trouble spots when emergencies arise.

At the same time, talking with strangers extracts the most useful life wisdom from all of society’s members and shares that wisdom with all.

Over the past six years, I’ve talked to many strangers who are our fellow American citizens, mostly immigrants from foreign lands – Somalis, Cambodians, Mexicans, Chinese, Croatians, Indians, Sudanese, Ethiopians, Uighurs, Anuak, Iranians, Sri Lankans, Laotians, and others.

The  stranger who has made the deepest impact on me as a journalist and as a person – from whom I’ve learned the most – is both among the most exotic people I’ve ever met, and the most dead.

He is Siddhartha Guatama, a prince-turned-monk who lived in northern India in the 6th century B.C. He is known to history as the Buddha, the formal name he took after experiencing a tranquility of the soul so deep he felt compelled to spend his life teaching it to others.

This particular stranger has struck me as so wise — his life experiences  and his teaching so profound and so relevant to our times — that I’ve decided to spend a little more time as a journalist with him. I want to learn more, and to share more of what I am learning from this stranger.

Starting today, alternating with my regular Global Minnesota columns, I’ll begin publishing a series of reports of my encounters with the Buddha at The Journalist and the Buddha.

Keeping things simple, the topics I hope to cover include:

What might this wise stranger have to say about such modern-day challenges as terrorism, multiculturalism, immigration, identity-politics, corrupt leadership, and religious extremism?
Does world peace start with individual morality, and if so how can the two be realistically and practically combined?
Western Buddhism is usually about learning how to meditate as a stress-reliever, without discussion of the Buddha’s ethical teachings. Does that make sense? How can we become moral, without moralizing?
The Buddha was far from apolitical.  He led a large community of sometimes quarrelsome monks; he administered discipline to them as needed; he ordained women as nuns against prevailing social norms; and he gave advice to local kings and generals during times of famine, ethnic violence, epidemics and war. In so doing, the Buddha taught lessons of powerful contemporary relevance.

Avoiding moralizing and religious cant, the Buddha also defined simple steps that ordinary people  can take to address, to ease, and to solve personal problems and global problems.

We can learn from such a stranger.

At least, for a little, he deserves a listen. What have we got to lose?

Incense burning is seen in many places as having religious significance as well as a way of purification. This rite has been around for hundreds of years and has continued till today. Incense burning is release of aromatic fumes or odors by burning certain materials. While some burn incense for medicinal purpose, it can also be done for purely aesthetic value.

The reasons for burning incense in recent years have however changed, largely influenced by the wide variety of cultures practicing the art as well as the interaction of cultures. In recent years, the practice has gotten quite popular as a result of such diverse reasons.

Today, many substances are burned as incense and may be derived from any material such as oils, solid materials or any substances that produce aromatic fumes. As these materials may take different states, there has been a need for different incense burners to hold these materials. An incense burner for holding a liquid material would be different with one that holds a solid substance.

Picture: happione

In liquid substances charcoal powder is placed on the incense burner and the essential oil poured onto it, creating a stable base. Chemically synthesized incense may also be used. All these diverse forms of incense thus require their own special incense burners and holders.

Incense classification can take many forms. In most cases, the mode and degree of incense burning is used. The 2 groups commonly used are indirect and direct burning. In indirect burning, charcoal or burning embers provide the heat source. Frankincense is one of the materials that is indirectly burnt as well as myrrh. In Europe, Frankincense is used to signify any aromatic substance that is burnt on an incense burner. During burning, frankincense is placed on coal embers in its unprocessed state on the incense burner and let to burn.

Direct burning involves lighting the combustible substance and placing it on the incense burner. The substance continues smoldering even after the initial flame or light source is removed. This initial ignition is all that is required. The substance can either be in liquid form or in finely grounded particles so that it can be entirely.

Frankincense coils can be burnt directly or by suspending them on an incense burner so that it burns completely in a coil-like fashion. Some incense sticks have a bamboo core for support while for loose powder, wood ash incense burners are used. When burning powder directly, it first has to be enclosed under another material before placing it on the incense stick and lighting it up. Other forms of direct burning use cored sticks, solid sticks and incense blanks. In incense blanks, scented dust is used as the fragrance substance.

Incense burners and holders come in all shapes and sizes. They can be categorized on their representation as well as their use. Incense burners representing mythical creatures like dragons and mermaids are common. Others are representations of mythical gods and ancient fairytale creatures. A search online will show up a good number of these burners together with the pictures.

Yantra Yoga, the Buddhist parallel to the Hathayoga of the Hindu tradition, is a system of practice entailing bodily movements, breathing exercises and visualizations.

The Union of the Sun and Moon Yantra Trul Khor (’Phrul ‘khor nyi zla kha sbyor), orally transmitted in Tibet in the 8th century by the great master Padmasambhava to the Tibetan translator and Dzogchen master Vairochana, can be considered the most ancient of all the systems of Yantra and its peculiarity is that it contains also numerous positions which are also found in the classic Yoga tradition.