Celibacy: A Zen Perspective

Recently, a question was sent to me by a friend:

"I'm thinking about this celibacy thing for you... why would you elect to adopt the monastic aspect of this? It would seem to me that a family and a spiritual life of this sort are not antagonistic to each other... Just curious how a young guy like you could be thinking of this..."

Well said, right? It's a classic question.

I answer in this way, hopefully without apology:

As I learn more about integration as a core gesture, the more I'm becoming convinced that compartmentalization while training is important. At present, my life is overdetermined. My mind is underdeveloped.

In other words, when I am really learning to do something different, I think it is best to mindfully devote my resources to that practice. Afterwords, after all the pieces have been disassembled rigorously, only then can I put them together as a free functioning, fully integrated unit.

The key here is: free functioning--and the choice to be so.

In Christianity (and I dare say some Jewish streams of thought), monastic tradition is driven by competitive suffering. Deprivation is seen to be somehow transportive. In that model we might say: pain = progress.

In the Zen model, the spiritual economy works very differently: we simplify. And then we simplify some more. We even simplify our attachments to Buddhism. This is a bottomless process. The goal is complete receptivity. Total presence, total non-judgement.

Why be so present?

--here's the Buddha's thesis--

MAXIMUM HAPPINESS.

And, ideally, maximum sustainable happiness for the maximum number of beings.

Now, sex is unquestionably one of the greatest pleasures. It is clearly part of life's best. Everybody (laypersons) should be having responsible, non-harmful sex according to Buddhism! It's natural!

The only problem I can see is not with sex. I think the world has had quite enough of sex bashing.

The problem is with unskilled mind. In the Western mode of desire, our minds do not realize that pleasure may not facilitate happiness. Not sustainably.

So what if it's not sustainable? Nothing is.

Yes, but what if confusing pleasure with happiness makes happiness somewhat unavailable?

I'll provide some examples of this which I used earlier in this blog:

• Things we do which we say "make us happy" are said to do so because they function as a "relief" from a prior state. For example, after work, we might go golfing. Perhaps the day at the office did not make us happy.

• However, after sufficient time, happy at the links, we need relief from the golfing as well. Every golfer has to and wants to call it a day after a point. In fact, it would make them unhappy to continue.

• One could imagine a version of Sisyphus' hell as a never ending golf tournament, caddying one's irons from hole to hole. Indefinitely.

• The same could be said of any thing outside ourselves which provokes a "happy" state of mind.

• For example, I might say: Pizza makes me happy. So, theoretically, the more pizza I eat, the happier I'll be. But after two or three slices... a fourth, let alone a fifth becomes nauseating. The effort will not repay itself.
  
  
• Even more precariously, we can harm ourselves and others in an endless cycle of trying to get at happiness.

Is there another happiness? One which you couldn't give or get enough of when you were a child and--hopefully--when you are an adult? One which will not tend to burn you or itself out, even though it requires sustained effort?

I think so. And it's always, already inside. It is not an external sublime. Personally, I never get tired of this form of pleasure/happiness. What it is exactly, for you, I cannot tell. But it's there.

Find it. But find it with precision. Celibacy is only one path towards assisting this exploration and it is not explicitly recommended by the masters. In particular, the Japanese Zen teachers are suspicious of the righteousness and seperationist biases of celibate practice.

I am mindful of this. However, I have found that it can dissolve desirous attachment. With reduced attachment, the mind can live in an empty space and flow towards openness.

Emptiness allows for the realization that all energy is just energy. Ki is Ki. Therefore, if I'm of an intention to direct my energy towards any part of my body--this can be accomplished when there is emptiness or "mushin" (lit: "mind like water").

In Karate, we put our hands through blocks in this manner. In Kundalini Yoga, we utilize tantra to refine our postures and perspectives. In Aikido and Zazen, we become observers of the wind and change. The list of conduits is extensive... And for those practicing sexuality, it goes without saying that energy can be accessed and channeled most directly through this powerful discipline.

In this way--and somewhat ironically--celibacy becomes a very sexual process. It is a sexuality of silence. If the silence can be improved upon, we should speak, if not, we should not speak.

But none of these words should be taken on faith. This is a matter of personal intuition.

According this way, Zen never, ever suggests renouncing sex unless your experience validates that without it you may refine your life and your senses. All things, in Zen and life, must be researched and tested.

As we say: "If you meet the Buddha on the road, kill him." Nothing is sacred, all is subject to inquiry.

In my case, my psychological makeup is so challenging that I think the monastic path can be most helpful is assisting me to find the middle way. However, this is a deeply subjective and not prescriptive view of the world.

To sum up then, even indefinite celibacy is non-definite. "Everything changes."

Is this hedging my bet?

I don't think so. And if it is, then celibacy is not ideal because it is somehow facilitating delusion.

If, however, my celibacy is clear-eyed, then I may view the monastic life as a model for progressive training. And, in practice, the monastic energetic commitment is so hard-core, that discipline quickly becomes second nature.

But having integrated the lesson of "everything changes," I know that discipline itself changes. In this way, we must meet our lives moment-to-moment, in the spirit of genuine scientific inquiry.

On some level, this also means I affirm or reject my experimental celibacy every day. But no matter what my daily conclusions, I do not act on swaying mind. I merely observe its fluctuations.

As Dalai Lama, Kundun says: "if science proves an aspect of Buddhism incorrect, then we have an obligation to render that aspect of Buddhism obsolete." Similarly, if I determine my path is incorrect, it will be corrected.

But for now, for today, it is most appropriate, I think.