Media Reviews from Winter 2010
That Bird Has My Wings:The Autobiography of an Innocent Man on Death Rowby Jarvis Jay MastersHarper One, 2009, 304 pages, $14.99, paperback
Reviewed by Hozan Alan SenaukeJarvis Masters lives on San Quentin’s East Block, home to nearly 500 of the nearly 700 men on California’s Death Row. It was in the solitary confinement of San Quentin’s Adjustment Center that he became a practicing Buddhist. And it was there that he became a skilled writer, whose voice is familiar to readers of Turning Wheel and other major Buddhist publications.Jarvis Masters has been my friend since the late ‘90s, shortly after his first book—Finding Freedom: Writings from Death Row—was released by Padma Publishing. If Finding Freedom is a collection of stories about what it is like to be a Buddhist, a man of compassion and clarity on Death Row, his new book, That Bird Has My Wings, is the through-narrative of how he got there. It is a story marked by insight, violence, despair, and sometimes humor in the face of racism and the systemic failure of California’s social welfare and criminal justice systems.Despite its subtitle—The Autobiography of an Innocent Man on Death Row—Jarvis does not use these pages to plead his innocence, a fact I fully believe in. The 1985 prison gang murder of San Quentin’s Sergeant Howell Burchfield at night on the second tier of a cellblock is a terrible tragedy. But at the time of this murder, Jarvis Masters was locked in his cell on the fourth tier. The evidence of conspiracy that brought about his 1990 conviction is an example of all that is wrong with a legal system dependent on self-serving informants and politically driven prosecutions. This is exactly what is coming clear as Masters’ very promising legal appeal nears its day in open court.But this book is a deep and painful reflection on how Jarvis Masters wound up in San Quentin as an angry and traumatized young man. In the preface, he writes:…I have simply discovered who I’ve always been: the young child who knew that his life mattered, that he could make a difference in the world, and that he was born to fly…the violence later grew so much larger than life that I stopped believing in myself. But I finally came into a situation where I dared myself to reclaim that natural goodness. That I reclaimed it on San Quentin’s death row doesn’t change who I am.Jarvis Masters was born in Long Beach, California in 1962. His mother Cynthia’s seven children were raised in foster care because she was addicted to drugs. The children were all sent to separate placements. After an initial placement with the elderly Procks family, who taught him about love, Jarvis, like many young people, found himself shuttling between harsh and dysfunctional foster placements, the street, the California Youth Authority, and then prison. So, his teen years provided a very thorough education in violence and racism. All of this is movingly and unapologetically detailed in the book.Towards the end of the book, in a chapter titled “Freedom Ride,” Jarvis relates a surprise medical appointment at Marin General Hospital—his first trip outside the prison walls in many years. He sees joggers, drivers, streets full of cars and people. He discovers his guards in mufti in the hospital waiting room, behind newspapers, and around corners. This is the seed of the larger story, what spurs him to reflect on the long, strange journey of life.Over the years I’ve tried hard to remember things as they were, to hold on to something I could reach back to and reflect upon, so that I might not feel altogether severed from the world I wished to reenter. Now my memories started to shred…. Everything had changed. I asked myself: Hey! Would you want things to stay the same? Especially if that meant you never grew up in any way?Growing up, taking responsibility, is hard for all of us. To do so in the hell of death row is almost unimaginable. Yet this is exactly what Jarvis Masters has done and continues to do. In that process, in these pages he serves as a teacher we can rely on.I offer my congratulations to Jarvis for a work of courage. And I applaud this news: That Bird Has My Wings has been selected by the 2010 PEN USA as a Literary Award Finalist in the category of Creative Nonfiction.
The World Is Made of Storiesby David R. LoyWisdom Publications, 2010, 116 pages, $15.95, paperback
Reviewed by Robin HartDavid Loy’s latest book, a collection of thought-provoking quotations and commentaries, raises the idea that stories are the source of what we know as reality. Stories define life and self as we know or believe them to be at any given time.The World is Made of Stories is divided into four parts. In the first chapter, Loy discusses creation myths, historical perspectives, and other stories that make up our world. The second chapter reflects upon the impact that stories have on our lives: how through them we lose or gain freedom, how internalizing stories as reality causes suffering, craving, and delusion (samsara). We lose our awareness of purusha, shunyata, or no-thing-ness. We forget that we are merely living narratives created from “a pure unchanging consciousness with no attributes of its own.” We become bound by the fictions of our own and others’ stories.The third chapter contains reflections about how power emanates from and is perpetuated by story. Those who hold power control the stories that promote totalitarianism, democracy, or peace. The final chapter discusses the major religious, spiritual, and traditional stories that give our lives meaning and purpose.I highly recommend The World is Made of Stories, which has encouraged me to reflect upon the narratives by which I allow myself to be defined. What have I accepted as my reality (when in fact there is no reality)? What stories am I creating to live in a world of my dreams?Throughout the book are reminders of our powers to create on a personal level, on a societal level, and on a transcendental level. We have the power to create our existence, our Heaven, or our own Enlightenment.New stories and roles are possible because I am that narrative and I also am not that narrative. I am that narrative because such stories compose my sense of self. Yet if the self were only that narrative there would be no possibility of abandoning that story and obtaining a new one.Namaste.
Sky Train:Tibetan Women on the Edge of Historyby Canyon SamUniversity of Washington Press, 2009, 271 pages, $24.95, Paperback
Reviewed by Lauren ByrneSky Train: Tibetan Women on the Edge of History is perhaps the most innovative book written on Tibet that I have come across. Canyon Sam is a third-generation Chinese American who traveled to China in 1986 in order to explore her heritage. After her foray about the region, she decided never to travel to China, Tibet, or Dharamsala again. Instead of experiencing a connection with the Chinese, she felt a deep, inexplicably pure bond with the people and culture of Tibet. Some years later, she finds herself in all of these locations in order to complete her inspiring project: a record of the oral histories of Tibetan women who truly suffered the invasion of the Chinese. These women range in age, social class, and life experience. Their anecdotes offer previously un-researched insight into how the Chinese invasions have affected their lives and their Buddhism.The title, Sky Train, refers to the train that the Chinese have built that bridges China to Tibet. She refers to the project as the “second invasion of Tibet,” as it is intended to bring millions of tourists, Chinese, and international goods to the formerly isolated country. Canyon Sam writes eloquently and lyrically of her experiences in Tibet: both the first and second times. She weaves her finely strung–together stories with memory. One of the most important theses of the work is that the Tibetan men left when the Chinese first invaded. The women were left, enslaved, and forced to confront the destruction of their homes and culture: a destruction that continues to the present.One of the most difficult weaknesses of the book is perhaps the unforgiving generalizations. When Canyon Sam refers to the Chinese and what they have done, she fails to acknowledge that it is less “the Chinese” or “Chinese culture” and more so the Chinese government. The Chinese persons she cites in the book support her stereotype: the Chinese person as irreverent, despicable and self-centered.In the past year or so, I have been researching how Americans perceive Buddhism because of U.S. film. Much of my focus has been devoted to films “about” Tibet. I have come across countless works about the history and experiences of men in and around Tibet. Canyon Sam offers a contrary view: a tender, personal insight into the spirit of the Tibetans in the face of the near extinction of their culture.Sky Train has won the PEN American Center’s Open Book Award for 2010.
Together We Are One:Honoring Our Diversity, Celebrating Our Connectionby Thich Nhat HanhParallax Press, 2010, 247 pages, $16.95, paperback
Reviewed by Mia MurriettaThe spirit of Thich Nhat Hanh’s new book, Together We Are One: Honoring Our Diversity, Celebrating Our Connection, is summed up for me by Larry Ward, one of many esteemed contributors featured in the book:I know the tendency in the U.S. is for all of us to rush to sameness. At certain levels, we’re all the same. But it’s important to know the differences before we get there, so we can value those differences… It’s important to understand that everybody is not having the same experience in the U.S. or any other society.… I’m not making a political statement. I’m making a factual statement, a human statement.As Sister Jewel outlines in her introduction, Together has been ten years in the making, drawing from wisdom gathered at retreats for people of color, including the first Colors of Compassion retreat in March 2004. The book combines personal stories and poems—“human statements,” if you will—from participants and leaders of those retreats with the teaching of Thich Nhat Hanh.These personal offerings helped me to understand the core teachings of the book more deeply, for while the primary content will be familiar to most readers of Nhat Hanh (inter-being, the five mindfulness trainings, etc.), here they are approached in the context of racial justice and diversity. As a Mexican American woman and Zen student who has struggled with a lot of the challenges the book touches on, I needed to hear the voices of those who were working with and applying Nhat Hanh’s teachings to their contemporary, non-monastic lives, especially in the absence of a discussion group.The book opens with the concept of “true home,” using both Thich Nhat Hanh’s personal story of exile and a contemporary example of a Japanese American young man who, because of prejudice, feels at home neither in the country where he was raised nor in the country of his ancestors. From there, the book brings the reader back to the physical body with instructions for mindful breathing, sitting and walking meditation, and mindfulness in daily life.The book covers a lot of territory: the wisdom of nondiscrimination and inter-being; working with pain, anger, and conflict; the five mindfulness trainings; the indivisibility of spiritual work from social work; and how our practice of mindfulness can support us in working with karma. All of this shows us how a lucid, cultivated mind can enable us to create community environments that bring out the best in people rather than the worst, creating opportunities for each of us to change ourselves and our world.The book ends with a chapter sharing the title of the book, a love letter to the treasure of Sangha—both creating it through the practices outlined in the book and relying on it as a source of strength in the rewarding and challenging work of community building. Following this are expanded versions of exercises and practices referenced in previous chapters and a list of diversity resources.Ultimately, this book gave me some clear practices for how we can each be confident in the values and traditions of our ancestors and reach across our differences to craft a shared culture. More than that, it gave me the hope that it’s possible for us to do so, no mean feat in our current climate of antagonistic public discourse. If you are interested in building joyful, collaborative, and life-affirming community, I strongly recommend this book.
Zen Women:Beyond Tea Ladies, Iron Maidens, and Macho Mastersby Grace SchiresonWisdom Publications, 2009,257 pages, $16.95, paperback
Reviewed by Mia MuriettaIn spite of having been practiced in the West for over a century, Buddhism’s history and ancestors continue to be taught from an overwhelmingly male point of view. Grace Schireson addresses that imbalance with Zen Women.A dense, academic book with the appendices, notes, bibliography, and index to prove it, Zen Women is also engaging and rewarding. The book blossoms beyond its opening controversy, provocation, and feminist propaganda into a profound widening of the Way for Western Zen practitioners:Like many of our female ancestors, most Western Zen practitioners live outside Zen monasteries and face financial and logistical obstacles. A wider historical perspective, one that encompasses those women and their accomplishments, will deepen our understanding of Zen and enhance our practice opportunities in intimate family relationships and at work. Our women forebears offer inspiration and an encouraging model of flexible participation that is highly relevant to Zen in the West.The book wisely spends only 30 pages on Part I: “Zen’s Women,” which gives an overview of women’s historical role in Buddhism in general and Zen in particular. The next 200 pages are devoted to Part II: “Women’s Zen,” featuring dozens of biographical sketches of female ancestors powerfully organized into six distinctive functional roles. Biographies within each role are further arranged chronologically, giving these female ancestors their due as part of the transmission of Buddhism from India to China, Korea, and Japan.Part III: “Women and Zen in Western Practice,” closes the book by bringing the insights of the female ancestors to bear directly on contemporary Buddhist practice and Western Zen centers. This final section feels particularly “Zen-centric,” though the issues raised surely carry some degree of relevance for other traditions. Nevertheless, I finished the book with a richer perspective on my own tradition (Soto Zen) and confidence that readers from any Buddhist tradition can gain much from Schireson’s approach and the female ancestors’ stories.
The Bodhisattva’s Embrace:Dispatches from Engaged Buddhism’s Front Linesby Hozan Alan SenaukeClear View Press, 2010, 226 pages, $15.00, paperback
Reviewed by J. Tyson CaseySometimes a book emerges that is both deeply personal and vastly profound. I’m thinking of books like Sulak Sivaraksa’s Loyalty Demands Dissent, Thich Nhat Hanh’s Fragrant Palm Leaves, and Aung San Suuu Kyi’s Freedom From Fear. These writings express a wisdom that can only be realized through investigating one’s own vulnerabilities in relation to struggles with justice. This justice includes the liberation of communities and societies, as well as the personal liberation of the author, for they are both entwined. It is not easy to balance a personal narrative of experience with a resounding call for collective action. Senauke’s The Bodhisattva’s Embrace is just such a book—a collection of eloquent essays that take the reader on a global journey of active dharma while remaining grounded in praxis.The reader is first introduced to dharmic teachings that support Senauke’s engagement with the world. The title of the essay collection comes from Dogen’s Bodaisatta Shishobo, which is translated as The Bodhisattva’s Four Embracing Dharmas. These four Dharmas of Giving, Loving-Speech, Beneficial-Action, and Identity-Action are found throughout the collection of Senauke’s essays. You can find this lived embrace in his experience with a witness delegation in Burma, just months after the Saffron Revolution took to the streets “in solidarity with a suffering nation.” These Dharmas are present when Senauke is embracing Dalits in India, ship breakers in Bangledesh, and inmates in federal prison in the United States.The Bodhisattva’s Embrace covers an impressively wide range of engaged Buddhism through essays on various topics, each written from a perspective of direct experience and action. Yet Senauke presents each piece with a humble honesty that addresses the systemic causes and conditions of suffering, while recognizing and challenging his own place in the interdependent web comprising systems of oppression.Senauke continues to challenge concepts while providing opportunities for working with the paradoxes present in engaging difference, embracing the Other, and cultivating compassionate social change. In his essay on practicing with women in prison, he beautifully sums up this approach.The practice of Engaged Buddhism entails insight and action exactly where self and social structures come together, moving freely between them as is appropriate. This effort—manifesting in areas of social change and protest, social service, environmental activism, hospice work, justice and democracy, civil rights and more—is beyond charity or well-intentioned service. It has the potential to transform self and others alike.This quote encapsulates Senauke’s work, one that has influenced socially engaged Buddhism locally, regionally, nationally, and globally. In many ways, The Bodhisattva’s Embrace is a gift to the world, a very personal, compassionate, and comprehensive one, that can only continue as dana so long as it is continually given. If you or someone you know is at all interested in taking Buddhism out into the world, The Bodhisattva’s Embrace is both a primer for practice and a challenge to do so.
Fully Present:The Science, Art, and Practice of Mindfulnessby Susan L. Smalley, PhD and Diana WinstonDa Capo Lifelong Books, 2010, 288 pages, $16.95, paperback
Reviewed by J. Tyson CaseyThere is a fast-growing movement at the intersections of science and Buddhist practice based around the concept of mindfulness. Smalley and Winston are expanding that intersection through an aesthetically educational approach that is direct and accessible. Fully Present offers readers a primer into the emerging mindfulness movement and is shaped by a three-fold lens of science, art, and practice.Fully Present is a wonderfully written exploration of mindfulness that sheds the skin of mere reporting in order to accompany the reader in a more full and present manner. Each chapter explores mindfulness through the triadic lens, offering insights into understanding about mindfulness itself, the beneficial change it can have on individual’s lives, and tools for integrating the practice into our everyday experience. The last chapter, “Mindfulness in Action,” drops the clear-cut lens of previous chapters, appearing more as a triune—the triad is embodied throughout Smalley and Winston’s weaving of mindfulness with collective change.As Smalley and Winston state in their conclusion:A more mindful society is ultimately a kinder society. It is our wish that this book will help this kindness unfold.This sums up the skillfulness with which Fully Present was crafted, expanding beyond mere reporting from the trenches of the mindfulness movement and into the embodiment of it.
Deep Down Things:The Earth in Celebration and Dismayby Lin JensenWisdom Publications, 2010, 176 pages, $15.95, paperback
Reviewed by Jan EldridgeDeep Down Things is the latest in a series of volumes by Lin Jensen, each containing personal essays that express his continued passionate kinship with ecological Buddhism. Jensen is a storyteller. His touching stories are told in a delightful manner, but one that cuts deeply into the heavy mission he is sharing with us. The title theme comes from the poem, “God’s Grandeur,” written by Gerard Manley Hopkins in 1918. Following the first verse in which he berates mankind, Hopkins expresses a degree of optimism in the second verse:And for all this, nature is never spent;There lives the dearest freshness deep down things;Nature may still not be spent, but there are serious signs of exhaustion. Experts and pundits continue to reiterate the need for all of us to wake up; and we continue to sleepwalk. What we seem to lack, and what Jensen addresses strongly in each essay, is his gut level, sensitive connection with the environment and other sentient beings. This has come from his deep, lifetime study of ecology and Zen Buddhism.Many of us have seen the worms stranded on concrete paths after a heavy rainfall the night before. Do we even begin to imagine what it would be like to be one of those worms? Jensen does. He identifies in an intimate, sensitive, emphatic way with their inching along toward certain death, their vulnerability to the sun’s rays, their innocence, and even what he refers to as their wisdom. He reminds us that worms have a brain and five pairs of hearts. And he asks if he is not in some ways like them: stranded and perplexed with the loss of the fields and farms of his youth, replaced now with shopping malls and freeways. He is an ecological Buddhist in touch with the fact that all creation is inseparable and interdependent.We owe every aspect of our lives to forces and lives other than our own. And we are numb to the fact that we desperately need to connect much more deeply and personally to those deep down things. Jensen’s mission is a wake-up call. At times I was led in a tender manner into his compassionate world. There were also times when I felt truly jolted, as if he deliberately shook me into his expanded awareness. I responded to his call, and I expect that you will too.
Overcoming Speechlessness:A Poet Encounters the Horror in Rwanda, Eastern Congo, and Palestine/Israelby Alice WalkerSeven Stories Press, 2010,75 pages, $9.95, paperback
Reviewed by Katie LonckeBeloved author and poet Alice Walker’s new book is small—or, more to the point, travel-sized. Chronicling her recent politicized visit to Palestine/Israel, simple yet intimate stories invite us to “learn what is real and true, not by traveling through the air, but by walking on the ground.”Though far-flung settings frame her journey with Eat-Pray-Love–global reach—from childhood in 1950s Georgia, to Rwanda after its genocide, and today’s occupied Palestine, strewn with rubble so heartbreakingly well tended it bears “no scent of death”—she embraces each place with solidarity, not exoticism.Indeed, what speaks loudest is her empathic listening. To stories of racist violence, mirroring her own experiences. To Israeli bombs, echoing American complicity.Justice work needs teeth as well as heart and spine. Though Walker mentions a “one-state solution” and recommends further reading, I wished for more nitty-gritty peacemaking strategy.Yet, inspired listening remains the first step in speaking the unspeakable.From day to day, many of us “travel through the air,” relating to others’ suffering through media, charity, data, preconceptions, and theory.One need not be a Walker in order to walk. Let us join her, putting our feet on the ground.Turning Wheel published substantial excerpts of Alice Walker’s book in the Fall/Winter 2009 issue.—Ed.