Our FBA Podcast “Building Sangha, Creating Harmony” is a beautiful talk by Vajrasara. Here she explores the value of spiritual community, ways to encourage fuller harmony, and the many opportunities in friendship for waking up.
Free Buddhist Audio
Building Sangha, Creating Harmony
(upbeat music) This podcast is brought to you by Free Buddhist Audio, the Dharma for Your Life. Our work is funded entirely by donations from our generous listeners. If you would like to help us keep this free, make a contribution at freebuddhistaudio.com/donate. Thank you and happy listening. - So hello. An email went out saying I was talking about creating harmony. So I just wanted to say that I think I'm talking about creating Sanga, which will include a bit of harmony, hopefully, or harmonious Sanga. So I hope that's okay. Someone was expecting more about harmony. But yes, so tonight's topic concerns spiritual community, friendship, harmony, disharmony, all sorts of things. And I've put a lot of energy, as Shaval Malini was mentioning, into creating Sanga in the last couple of decades. And very passionate about it. So committing ourselves to the Sanga firstly involves, as most of you know, respect for the enlightened teachers of the past and present and being inspired by their teachings, by their lives as well, through an inspiration from them. And it also involves, and this is the area I'll be talking about more. Us here, the today's Sanga, this motley crew that we find ourselves among. And while we may be quite disparate, there is something that draws us together, something quite particular that draws us together, mainly the Buddha's teaching. Perhaps some other things as well, and that may come out. So we may or may not have much in common. We have something in common, but what lies in common is very distinct. And I've noticed this again and again, when I've been to other Buddhist centers across the country and in other countries too. There is something quite distinctive about going to a Sanga situation. A very particular flavour. It's hard even to say what it is, but there's something open-hearted, and there's something aspirational. And so we come together, don't we, on the basis of affinity, in that sense. Shared values, you might say, neutral inspiration, something like that. And then through collective practice, we create a network, but varying degrees, to some extent. And within that, hopefully we work towards harmony. But it doesn't happen naturally necessarily or automatically. But I was thinking first of all, how is it that entering into relationship with others with a common ideal, and perhaps a shared path, if you want to view it that way, how does that actually help us in practice? Of course, those we associate with, especially, I suppose, those who have more experience than us, well, we can learn from them. That's obvious, that happens in all walks of life. To some extent, people have coaches and mentors who are in tennis, or a whole range of things, that we learn. But I think with something like spiritual practice, it's quite particular, 'cause what are we learning? Or what we're really learning, or hoping to learn, is self-knowledge. And it's curious that actually we learn that best in association with other people. Well, I think it's curious anyway, because that's the spiritual significance of that deep individual to individual contact. Even the reason that we benefit from community is that we get to know ourselves best in relation to other people. Without a spiritual community, I reckon we probably get stuck. I probably would anyway. We probably just follow our preferences. Overlook our blind spots. We might get dry or bored. We might have a fantastic time as well. I'm not advocating anything particular, but I know that I've been quite surprised to think of this thing. Actually, the self-knowledge comes through connection with others. And certainly it's less narrow or overly subjective, and it might be if we're just on our own. And anyway, that's just the first level of connection with Sanga. So, we'll take it further as we go. So last month saw one of the rare uplifting news stories on our screens or wherever you see the news, which was the 33 Chilean miners that were successfully saved. And like many people, I found this very moving, for sure you all did. And not just the lives saved, which was remarkable enough. But also there was a real sense, there was a lot of nobility of spirit around, wasn't there? I don't know if you noticed how a number of both the miners and the rescuers were ranging to see who could be lost to be brought back to safety. So very much a spirit of altruism in the air. And I was also struck by the Chilean president who said that it was a triumph of faith commitment and teamwork. And I was quite struck by that. I was partly struck because you don't often hear from politicians talking about the triumph of faith, or certainly not in our secularized country. I know that's different in Chile. But those three qualities he cited, faith commitment and teamwork, I thought were, well, what seems to me what comprised Sanga? So we need faith, don't we? We need faith in the ideals, faith in the fact that awakening is possible, faith that the growth is possible. And we need commitment, or we'll never get very far, never make much headway. According to Sanga, actually a Buddhist life is a committed life. So we commit to the values and practices that will make a difference bit by bit, or dabbling, won't really do the trick we need to follow through. And we also need teamwork, we need to collaborate, pool our resources to bring this about, to bring Sanga into being. For ourselves, and also for anyone, anyone who responds to the ideals, to whatever extent. But in order to even want to do this, we need to appreciate that Sanga has value, and that takes time in itself. So first we need to appreciate it and see how it can support us. And then, in however long it takes, for some of us quite slow, I think it's quite slow for me, it dawns on us that committing ourselves to Sanga involves making every effort to bring it about, to bring it into being. It's not just that we kind of partake of it, we actually need to bring it into being ourselves. So it's more active, it's more engaged, it's a here and now practice, not something other people do for us. Yes, so the first step in building a harmonious community is respecting and valuing difference. People seeming very other to us. It can be a major source of misunderstanding, polarization, and so on. And that's why imagination is such a key ingredient. How often have you thought to yourself, I'd never say that or think that or do that? Well, someone else has, someone else does, and they will have their reasons. Probably very good reasons from their point of view. So imagination, I think, is the key. How can we imagine what it would be like to be then? Otherwise, the potential for conflict is quite high. So appreciating differences, I think requires a healthy degree of self esteem or self metta. We can even relish our differences, can't we, can find them funny, enjoy other people's quirks in a certain state of mind. We can relish them. And when someone isn't naturally our type, they keep teaching us of the need to imagine, the need to reach out and understand. I love the Buddha's parable of the rain cloud, which probably many of you know. It offers the image of his teaching for Dharma as this rain that falls down on all of us. And it nourishes all plants equally, but they each grow according to their own capacity, well, their own nature, really. So an acorn will definitely become an oak tree. It won't become a chestnut. It won't become a shrub or even a daffodil. It will only become an oak tree. And I found this, it might sound very obvious, but I found this tremendously relieving. Because I think somewhere at that point, I've got this idea that engaging sort of strongly in Buddhist community, I might somehow become a Buddhist clone or something. Somehow I'd lose some sense of individuality. Yeah, I might be lost or immersed in something. So yeah, I was very relieved by this parable of the rain cloud. It seemed very beautiful because we become more ourselves. We don't lose anything. We only gain more authentic. And to continue the nature symbolism a little. As regards saying, I was thinking, we're rather like trees that benefit from the company of other trees. So, yeah, trees obviously enjoy each other's protection in a wood from the buffets of wind and rain and storm and so on. It's also true that trees grow taller in each other's company. Much taller than those of them. Yeah, I'd give it no relative potential or height. Yeah, they kind of reach up for the light, don't they? I'm sure you've seen that in woods. And then of course, saplings need support. They need a firm stake until they're firmly rooted. And that stake can in the Sangerby, those who are more experienced, who have a well-established practice. They're well-rooted in their own Dharma practice. So when we commit ourselves, those of us who do at ordination, we say a line that goes in harmony with friends and brethren, "I undertake this ordination." No, I accept this ordination, I think it is. Well, anyway, that's the gist. And I was wondering about this phrase a little. I was wondering why Sanger actually shows the words "friends" and "breath ring." So this is a slightly antiquated phrase. But he was obviously making a distinction between the two. And I think valuing the two levels that are part of what Sanger is. So brethren or cistern suggest kinship and shared vision, that affinity I've spoken of already. But probably not closeness. Yet it's more than ordinary acquaintances, isn't it? That sense of brethren. It points to the importance of all those connections that aren't quite friends, but they're not nothing. There's something that's alive and valuable. And I think there's a real benefit in this level. I've been thinking about this level in recent months, noticing when I've been on retreat with a number of people who I've put in the sister category or sisters. People I've known in a way a bit like yourself, who I've known for many years, maybe 15 or 20 years, been on retreat together, don't probably know as friends, maybe never become friends, but still share something very important and feel a real sort of kinship when you meet, a real sense of understanding, some trust, some sense of being able to cooperate with, and so on. Well, I thought I could say, but I just really think it's easy to underestimate the value of that level, that warm network that we can create with brethren. It's easy to use that word. So do we value this level of connection, this sort of fraternity, if you like? And I think it forms a bridge between our narrow circle and the wider world, and quite an important bridge at times. So as human beings, it's easy to focus on what divides us. And yet, Sangha is not about where we've come from. It's about where we're going to. Which I think is great. I remember being delighted when I heard that phrase. Not about where we've come from is where we're going to. And those of us who've felt uncomfortable about our backgrounds, perhaps, or even just when you don't feel that it's very easy to connect with other temperaments or other backgrounds, it's, I don't know, there's some great relief about, actually, it's about where you're going to. It's about a sense of connectedness and directionality. That's what's important. That's what holds us together. And the effectiveness of our community depends on that sense of fellowship. If we only seek out our own kind and avoid those that we don't know, we'll find a bit odd or alien, well, however are we going to overcome that sense of self-other split that we keep hearing our main task? Yeah, how can we experience that sense of interdependence? So whether we like others in our fellowship is just missing the point. It just doesn't matter. I'm sure we know in met above the meditations, we're encouraged to open up to all types of people. And if we can't like them, it doesn't matter. You can still love them. And I find that really interesting, because I would have thought, before I did that meditation, that it would be easier to like them to love. And actually, I know now that that's different. We can still feel loving-kindness to people that we find frustrating, or react to, or whatever. We can still feel that sense of love, and some overcome that sort of the superficial bikes and dislikes and preferences. I don't know if that makes sense to you, but that's been very inspiring discovering that. And it's easier to open the heart in a wider range for me, in a wider range of places as it were. So it makes sense that both friends and brethren would be an integral part of this journey. There's a lovely scripture for those who want to know, it's the Maha Gosunga Suta, in which the Buddhist disciples are celebrating their diverse qualities. So one evening, there's a group of them sitting around this wood, or this sour grove, as it's called, and they ask each other, "By what type of monk would this beautiful grove be illumined?" And the first to speak is Ananda, who is the Buddhist companion and well-known for his astonishing memory, among other things. And he says, "Oh, it would be by a disciple who has heard much, "who remembers the Buddha's teachings, "reflects on them and repeats them." And Sarikutra says, "Yes, he's spoken well according to his nature." And the next person who speaks is Aniruddha, who's renowned for his clairvoyance. And he says, "The grove would be illumined by a meditator, "who can see numerous worlds with divine vision." Then the recluse revetar suggests the grove would be illumined by a monk who delights in solitary meditation. Next, the disciplined kashapa suggests it's by one who excels in ethical practice. Then the clairseeing Mogulana believes the grove would be illumined by someone who focuses on philosophical issues and profound understanding. And finally, Sarikutra suggests it's by a disciple who has thoroughly known and trained his own mind. So then they go to the Buddha and they say, "Well, who has spoken well?" And the Buddha says they've each spoken well according to their nature and abilities. So then the Buddha adds his own, which I thought was rot sweet. He says, "The grove would be illumined by one "who sits cross-legged, back erect. "And becomes mindful and resolves not to give up "until any craving is dissolved "and his mind is calm and freed of all delusion." I really like the warmth of this scripture. It also reminds me that difference isn't a 21st century situation. And rejoicing can help us overcome that sense of self-other division. So those early disciples knew how to value each other's distinctive qualities. And can we celebrate our friends' qualities? Can we really rejoice in their successes? So great importance is placed on that sense of rejoicing in our community and encouraged. But I think it's quite a tall order at times to do that. It means seeing deeply that someone else's strength doesn't take away anything from us. Being appreciated actually brings out our best. And rather than, in a way, the old-fashioned view was that you might get big-headed or something like that inflated. Actually, when somebody acknowledges, say somebody acknowledges your kindness, what tends to happen is that you want to try and be more kind. So it doesn't have a kind of negative effect on the whole, generalizing of it here. But what I've noticed is that actually it draws out more in the creative sense. I think appreciation is the lifeblood of the Sangha. So all my life, I've put energy into friendship. And even as a teenager, I was really keen on intents and honest, intense communication. And sometimes people have found me a bit too much to confronting or whatever. But with friends committed to growth, it's been mainly appreciated. I feel rich in friends. It might sound obvious, but I think regularity is a key element in friendship. When I lived in London, I used to meet Dharma Dassen, one particular friend, every week that we could, for about 14 or 15 years. And this had a tremendous effect over time. It meant that our meetings didn't revolve around catching up. And recently, we spent a whole evening on one single topic, exploring it from every angle, which we're both quite thorough. But I suppose I find it tremendously satisfying and a great opportunity to have that chance to really go into something with someone. So I really value the depth that sort of regularity can bring. And some of my friends, imagine it's true for lots of people, have seen all my phases come and go, all my boyfriends, all my fads, my various careers, and so on. And well, I just love the continuity and the perspective that they can bring on me, as it were. And that sense of really being known. So however we each go about it, do we have a friend or two that really knows us fully? Are we at close quarters with other people? I'm pausing because it's a genuine question, actually. A genuine question, do we get to grips with one another? It's one of the things that I really loved about working in Buddhist teams. It really helps my spiritual life to be visible, my ethics to be accountable. Well, it's not always enjoyable that, but it's valuable. And in the process to know and be known, both ways, very fully. Of course, lots of us have busy lives, and it's not always easy to have an overlap. But are we doing what we can? Do we see the possibilities for friendship? Understand why the Buddha described it as the whole of the spiritual path. It's quite a clichéd remark, and probably most of you have heard that, but it's a very strong statement as well. Why would he say such a thing? It's also worth remembering that Sanger isn't about socializing or collecting friends. It's about going deeper with a few. Trusting and being transparent with a few friends, we become more self-aware. I read recently, just a few months ago, Sanger actually asked him, in what area of activity of the many that he is so gifted in, so writer, poet, speaker, organizer, thinker, scholar, who knows what else? With all the things he's done in his 85 years. So his secretary was saying, "Which did you think gave fullest expression to his genius?" So Sanger actually shrugged off the label genius, but he then said he thought he had a talent for friendship. I thought it was remarkable, actually, given all these areas, given however many books he's produced and all the different things, that he would single out friendship. I really enjoyed living and working with another friend, Shraddha Gita. We worked at the Cherry Cafe, a Buddhist cooperative team for five years together, and then lived together for another six. And in our last year of living together, she was diagnosed with cancer. And this really strengthened our bond. I suddenly noticed where I focused on some of those minor aggravations, rather than her wonderful qualities, or her many qualities. And it was very sobering. For example, it felt ironic that I used to get irritated with her, leaving the bath covered in hair. And then when her hair was falling out with chemotherapy, I just thought, "God, that's so missing the point. I couldn't care if there's hair everywhere, as long as she survives." No doubt we all have friends that we take for granted a bit, but I certainly found that very sobering. And, well, don't forget to show appreciation while you can't. So how do we create harmony? How do we build friendship and harmonious community? I was listening to the wreath lectures given by a great musician, Daniel Barramboi. And he, of course, had lots to say about harmony. And he was saying that harmony in music is achieved by moving from concord through discord and dissonance and arriving at resolution on a deeper level. And similarly, in life, we reach harmony because of, not in spite of discord and clash. Paradoxically, trying to keep relationships smooth doesn't encourage harmony. In fact, it usually stifles it, doesn't it? According to Barramboi, harmony can be achieved even if there are strong, conflicting elements, as long as each element can develop itself to the fullest. Which I think is a key point for spiritual community. As long as each of us can develop ourselves to the fullest, be really authentic, in other words. So clashes may happen, perhaps again and again. But that's kind of mining some deeper and deeper scene of knowing. Knowing each other, knowing ourselves as well. So music by its nature is subversive, he was saying, with point and counterpoint of quite different characters. But the effect is enriching, it's not conflicting. And apparently in an orchestra, he was saying it's vital to do two things simultaneously, to express yourself and contribute, on the one hand, and to understand what the others are doing. And both aspects, he said, are active and they demand passion and effort. And he was saying, quite strong, he believes that the alternative social model can be learned from music. So when playing music or creating community, listening is crucial, obviously. But listening, we broaden our perspective and learn to accept the validity of the other. In a spiritual community, committing ourselves to harmony also means actively working against disharmony. It means understanding our resentment and blame, so we can let it go. It involves being discreet, listening, learning to accept, giving the benefit of any doubt, which sounds quite ordinary, but it's actually quite a practice. It also means taking responsibility for our mental states, confessing maybe, expressing regret, and being willing to stay in dialogue when difficulties arise. So if we engage with others, we'll inevitably collide at some point. Are we working to resolve conflicts? Or do we imagine that we can get away with it in the privacy of our own mind? I think this is always a key thing. Do you think you can think that thought, but no one will know? According to Sankarachta, if you don't collaborate around your strengths, you'll undermine each other around your weaknesses. No particularly like that word weakness, but you get the gist. If you don't collaborate around your strengths, you'll undermine each other around your weaknesses. Now I was thinking that probably most of us could acknowledge more, whatever would fall into that weakness or shortcoming category. Perhaps that sense, if we're thinking of Sankar, of undermining others, or competitiveness, or whatever comes in for you. Because rivalry in particular really corrodes community spirit. But being able to admit to rivalless feelings can loosen the mind and help us move beyond them. If we can't accept those parts of ourselves that we hate, if we can't admit to those difficult feelings, there's very little chance that we'll be able to accept them in other people. When I was on retreat last year, I was really struggling with some rivalless feelings. And not only was I having them, it wasn't bad enough, but I was telling myself, well, really judging myself for having them, and telling myself it was just the opposite of friendship. All the kind of self-judgment that went with that. And this particular dynamic had lasted for a few years, so that was another thing to be myself with. It had been going on so long. And I tried met a bathroom endlessly and tried confessing it, tried reflecting on how pointless it was, contemplating the consequences. I tried all these things, didn't work, or not quite enough. So during this particular retreat, I was feeling really upset, and I also made it with being cross at her for not being glad at my successes and cross with myself for not being bigger and all the rest of it. And also feeling humiliated about being stuck. And that was quite a fruitful time, not enjoyable, obviously. After a week I stopped feeling hopeless. I had been exploring the feelings I was condemning. And, well, they come with being unenlightened. That was the first point. It's natural, it's understandable. And also as remembering that in the Buddhist understanding of things, the fetter of conceit or comparing ourselves is not something that you lose an evil dissolve for quite a long time. And after transcendental insight for those who want the Buddha. So I took Perma Chodron's advice here, which basically goes lighten up. It's a big deal, you're a human being. And I found that very helpful actually. Make friends with the competitiveness. It took the shame out of it, that's what it did. It took the heat out of it. And, well, when I returned home, it had evaporated. So this wasn't simply accepting an unskillful mental state is okay. I think it went further than that. It was more about understanding the rivalry allowed it to pass or fade. I never quite want to say pass because you don't know what's your inequality. Another point, Baron Boyne made, which I find very relevant to Sanga, concerns power and intensity. He said, "Even the most powerful cord must let opposing voices be heard. Otherwise, there's no tension, only brutal power." So the heavyweight instruments, like trumpets and trombones, must be played so that they use their full power and yet allow subtler instruments to be heard. If they drown out others, the sound has no strength, only power. In an orchestra, each player is constantly aware of everyone else. We need the tension of all the different notes to create strength and richness. Music, he said, indeed, life would be completely uninteresting about this. So I know that was rather a long quote, but it was rather fascinating. So it's really basically about fully listening again and fully expressing each voice and how crucial that is in community. So I have a Brazilian friend who is very intense and enthusiastic, and she often has clashes with people. People can find that energy a bit much or even scary. And she was moaning to me. She said, "I can't hold back anymore or are burst." So I was likening her to a trombone. And it's not that she needs to repress or rein herself in, not at all. As long as she's really aware of other people, she needs to let out her full strength, but not drowning out the other viewpoints. Seeing deeply how the other instruments, or in this case, people enrich the whole. So she's working on befriending violins and flutes at the moment. But it is a kind of paradox how to really fully express oneself and really listen, I think. In my work as a non-violent communication trainer, I've seen avoiding or repressing conflict is actually what brings trouble. To reduce violence, we need to move towards it and welcome it. The magic ingredient for creating harmony is empathy, it seems. Empathy helps us to fuse violence, helps us to stay open and tender, helps us to hear no without imagining rejection, and understand people who once seemed completely incomprehensible. Having practiced meta, perhaps for some years, we may think we know all about empathy. Maybe we do, but I think it takes skill and it can be elusive. I've seen again and again through NVC how genuine empathy is irresistible, even transformative. It's what enables us to approach an angry person without terror or even with interest. If we try to understand another and really focus on them, we never need to hear judgment or blame again. Empathy is what in my work gives me the confidence to walk into situations of conflict and mediate without being scared, or not too scared. And I think three key things enable this. We need to be present, we need to imagine intensely and listen openly without judgment. Because empathy creates a climate in which more of the speaker's experience comes to them. It becomes clear, more awareness emerges for them, bubbles up for them. And I think that's why it's so beneficial for creating Sangha. In reflecting on friendship and Sangha, I often check for certain qualities. And I've got another little checklist which I really like. So there's friendliness, affinity, proximity and intimacy. And of course in the Sangha, hopefully everywhere, we aim to be friendly, to feel matter and concern for the widest number of people, ideally everybody, regardless of their values, regardless of anything. And then we have affinity, specifically with others who've chosen to put this path, who are committed to waking up. Our brothers and sisters, as we've been talking about. And I find a degree to which people are committed determines the depth of connection that we can experience. Then there's proximity, and the warmth and connection that regular contact can bring. So with, for example, my neighbour, who's a gamekeeper, there's definitely friendliness, and there's proximity. We can have a laugh, I really like him. But there's not enough affinity or shared values, I think, for there to be real intimacy. So lastly there's intimacy, which in a sense you could say is usually created by a lot of the first three friendliness, affinity and proximity. But I think in the spiritual community, intimacy springs not just from trust and self-disclosure, but from a deep resonance and sharing of aspirations. So how much intimacy do you think is possible without shared values? I'm sure people have different take on this. But I think that's an interesting question, how much do you think you can really know someone who has quite different values to you? Of course we can have intimacy without proximity, but it's rare to sustain it without a certain amount of shared time. And if we move away geographically, what effect does that have on our key relationships? And how can we counter that? There are two friends of mine who undertook to put each other in their met above every day for seven months, while one of them went to Australia. And I was very impressed to hear that they were both loyal to that. It was quite an undertook key. So what are we doing to sustain our connections? And I was thinking that if we look at conditionality, the good is primary teaching, what conditions enable spiritual community to thrive? Basically, the Sanga provides conducive conditions in which to establish, say, a meditation practice, to support ethical awareness, and gradually to understand Buddha's teaching. But fully engaging with Sanga takes us beyond that, I think, to something much more magical and unexpected, perhaps even hard to describe. Especially if we really participate, rather than just partake. As Harry Potter's headmaster wisely said, it's our choices far more than our qualities that really determine who we really are. Well, even that really make us who we are. It's our choices far more than our qualities. So what conditions are you choosing? Are they effective? And, as regards to Sanga, can we be supportive conditions for one another? Can we bring things alive? Can we spark each other off? So a spiritual friend's presence may not just towards more awareness. It might divert me from the second glass of wine. It might remind me of my better self. Who knows what the good influence may do? I was thinking of that beautiful phrase from an ancient text which talks about creating light for one another. So don't wait until the next guru's in time in order to inspire you. Create light for one another. Uplift and encourage each other. Text each other. Send links to stimulating YouTube, clips. Lend each other inspiring books and then discuss it. Whatever. I don't know. Listen to Dharma talks from free Buddhist audio. That's a great resource. Take your mates on retreat. Form a team for a festival day. To have friends we need to be a friend. It's an active process. Speak out. Don't let difficulties fester. We can each do our bit to help the spiritual community become effective and harmonious. In London I worked in Buddhist teams for 11 years and lived in what was essentially a Buddhist village in East London. The conditions for conscious growth were abundant there. Now I'm living in rural Somerset and I often ponder what conditions do I need. And what do I want to contribute to the Sangha locally and nationally? So I haven't finished my reflections on that. But collaboration is one of my preferred options. What sparks you? What conditions are you putting in place? There's a verse from the Dhammapada, one of the earliest recorded words of the Buddha, supposedly. And it goes, "Happy is the unity of the spiritual community." "Happy is the spiritual effort of the united." "Happy is the unity of the spiritual community." "Happy is the spiritual effort of the united." And this set me thinking about unity. So to unite is an active verb, isn't it? It's not just the absence of discord. It's the presence of harmony. Unity doesn't just happen without great effort, I don't think, especially ethical sensitivity. Understanding reactivity, our own and other peoples, curbing divisive actions and generally being kinder. And of course harmony isn't static, it can always be strengthened and it can easily be eroded. But the good news, the text says, it's a cause for happiness. Hey, it makes us happy, the effort to be united. And I don't know, I certainly experienced that. But making an effort is easier when united. When we're pulling together, we work harder when we're pulling together. We feel more like it. There's less resistance when we unite it. Not to mention the energy that's wasted by disharmony. So we know too that meditating or doing ritual with others helps us to apply ourselves. The effort somehow seems more effortless. So we can lift each other up when we're flagging, can't we? And I think it's not only the sort of cliche that together we're more than the son of our parts. I think that's true. But I think there's something else which is that through collective endeavor our parts are stimulated to operate better. So we're stretched to give our best. So with spiritual community, we're trying to bring about a deep experience of commonality. Without losing a sense of ourselves, without losing individuality. And this is quite a subtle art. It's what Sangerxida has called the Third Order of Consciousness, which he described as a mysterious experience that carries us beyond ourselves. So he distinguishes between group consciousness, which is kind of sheep-like behavior, individual consciousness, which is a good starter, as it's an achievement in itself, individual consciousness, a certain individuality. And then beyond that, above that, as he calls it, the Third Order of Consciousness. And he calls this an indefinable atmosphere of harmony and depth, a powerful, intuitive resonance between people who are practicing the Dharma. He says it transcends all divides because it's sympathetic and its nature is inclusive. Very beautiful. Very beautiful idea. A powerful, intuitive resonance between those who are practicing the Dharma. It took me years to realize that creating that Third Order of Consciousness is really what the spiritual community is about. So to conclude, I was thinking that when I worked in the communications office, I had quite a bit of contact with other Buddhist groups and interfaith groups. And I was left with the impression that despite all our shortcomings and difficulties and other things in the press that were not too favorable about our group, I was still left with the impression that in the Tree Ratna community, we managed fairly well, creating community and staying in harmony with friends and brethren. Fairly well. I mean, there's certainly further to go. But actually, overall, it was an encouraging experience. So yes, there's further to go in encouraging more openness among us, greater understanding, more unity, and more mutual inspiration. But I think we've made a start. We are making a start. So I suppose let's just hope that in our own lives we can follow the advice of Tuxa Rinpoche, who on his deathbed, advised his disciples. However many times your heart wants to close. Coexed it. Thank you. We hope you enjoyed this week's podcast. Please help us keep this free. Make a contribution at FreeBuddhist.io.com/donate. And thank you. [music fades out] [music fades out] [music fades out] [music fades out] [BLANK_AUDIO]