If your ideas of Buddhism derive primarily from the monastic traditions or the blissed-out and commodified western misinterpretations, then the description “engaged” might surprise you a bit. Perhaps not entirely unlike my combining of Buddhist and erotic might surprise you.

There are some paths dedicated to silence and retreat, entirely to inner cultivation and cessation of all emotion and thought. We are all of us constantly buffeted by the winds of karma. We're tossed hither and thither into different circumstances and directions without always knowing why. The path of inner and outer quiet can point the way out, and it's a beautiful thing.

But, it's not really my path. Rather, I see mine as one of a multitude of paths given the name “engaged” in recent times. Two fabulous books that explore the depths of these paths are A Queer Dharma by Jacoby Ballard and Radical Dharma by Jasmine Syedullah, Lama Rod Owens, and angel Kyodo Williams. They describe walking Buddhist paths to change the world for the better rather than escape from it. The more you read, the more you come to realize there is no escape. We are part of the world and each other no matter how much we might try to deny it. And the harms done to us don’t disappear just because we go on a retreat or sit down to meditate.

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Ballard, a teacher of mediation and yoga had dedicated his life to the path of teaching. He’s spent an enormous amount of time in spiritual communities and thought he had found belonging—until he transitioned. The rejection and scorn he experienced galvanized his resolve to be a agent of change and create truly safe spaces for growth and realization. He had to confront not only his own rejection, but also take an honest look at how he had been part of the rejection of others, too. His book takes us on his journey and offers some guidance on how to engage with both edges of the sword—the harms done to us and the harms we have caused.

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Syedullah, Owens, and Williams are all three people of color and came into Buddhist circles already on edge and ill at ease. Rather than an abrupt rejection like Ballard experienced, each describes their own experiences with invalidation, gaslighting, code switching, and all they ways they’ve tried to hang on to the constantly shifting ground under their feet—all the while keeping a lid on the growing rage the comes with being a person of color in the United States today. The book chronicles their walking paths of engagement, galvanized by pain and anger, but trying not to let themselves be controlled by them. Theirs are stories of a whole new kind of Dharma, a Dharma for our age, our times. Medicine for the ailments we suffer from here and now.

Making art and telling stories is my own path of engaged Buddhism. I’m here trying to change the world rather than create items of detached, ironic commentary or art that attempts to be a “neutral” reflection. Is there any such thing as neutrality, anyways? That we are blessed with imagination, to me, shows that reality doesn’t have to be as real as everyone insists. Imagination is the first step toward changing how things are, right? Buddhism is about discernment, wisdom, precision, and ultimately the truth that there is no truth. At least no single truth. Instead, there are many, many truths. Limitless truths embodied in endless calls and their responses that become calls to other responses.

Okay, darlings, yes, I know, back to Earth, please. Let’s leave it at this: the most important, radical thing in my life right now is the simple act of creating beauty where there wasn’t before.

Plenty more where that came from!

Further readings

A lush rose garden with a gravel path through the middle, decorated with trellis supporting bounteous roses inviting the viewer to imagine a gentle, fragrant stroll

Who Gets to Dream

Imagination may generally be conceived of as individual, but is it perhaps more social than we realize, or are allowed to realize?

A sultry, shirtless man in sleeveless vest and sporting a lot of ink, sits suggestively in the back of pickup truck.

Even the Orchestra is Beautiful

We’re always awash—drowning, even—in gendered ideas of beauty, restrictive notions of what is beautiful, what’s allowed to be beautiful, who’s allowed to be beautiful. And then, what happens when one is considered beautiful?