In January, I co-facilitated a weekend retreat for Buddhists from different traditions who are involved in eco-activism. Various themes and questions emerged during our time together. There were questions about how arising anger could be used in the service of activism, and how this fitted with Buddhist ethics. There was frustration about Buddhist colleagues who were in denial about the climate and ecological crises, and how they might be skilfully influenced. There was a lot of despair and grief.
One of the themes that arose repeatedly was the immensity of the task ahead and the inadequacy of our efforts. One colleague came up with a beautiful metaphor for this. He described himself as a drop of water, surveying a vast lake. The lake had been whipped up into fierce waves and he was trying to decide exactly where to add his drop of water in order to calm the whole thing.
This struck me very deeply as I have been wrestling with a similar dilemma. My life is already quite full. I run a Buddhist temple with my husband, which involves wearing various hats: landlord, celebrant, marketing executive, accountant, gardener. I work as a psychotherapist to earn my living, and I make space for writing books as a way to feed my soul. How can I fit my new role as an eco-activist into this busy schedule without overloading myself and becoming useless as a holder-of-space and as a guide for others. In the precious time I do have available, exactly what should I be doing? The fate we are facing is so terrifying, I also wonder why I don’t just relinquish all of my other roles, as some of my friends have done, and sign up for full-time work with Extinction Rebellion.
We sat with these questions as they swirled inside us. It was helpful to know that others sat with them too. It was also helpful to study a beautiful text by Akuppa* on how to be a Shambhala warrior, with sage advice for Buddhist eco-activists including simplifying our lives, remembering we can’t save the world on our own, and balancing outer activity with inner sustenance. Still, I was left feeling daunted and overwhelmed by the task ahead.
On the second morning I offered a piece of our liturgy to the group. As a Pureland Buddhist, my primary relationship is with Amitabha Buddha, the Buddha of Infinite Light. Amitabha (or Amida) is flanked by two attendant bodhisattvas—Quan Shi Yin, also known as Guanyin, Avalokiteshvara, or Kannon, and Tai Shi Chih, also known as Mahasthamaprapta. The piece I shared was the Tai Shi Chih Prayer, written by our teacher Dharmavidya David Brazier, and set to a very simple melody.**