Chod, internal wastelands and the Gowanus Canal

At the end of my post on performing Chod at Greenwood Cemetery (which you can read here), I wondered about doing Chod at the Gowanus Canal; the recently designated superfund site that divides Carrol Gardens from Park Slope in Brooklyn.  This toxic body of water is an artery of death and decay that is both close to my home as well as my heart.  As a legendary repository of dead bodies (the detritus of organized crime), flood waste from higher elevations in Brooklyn, and just about every kind of heavy manufacture imaginable, the Gowanus canal seems a ghost-like symbol of where we put things that we want to forget.

Before I packed my bags with the things needed for the practice, I spent some time contemplating the Gowanus as a symbol.  It is a body of water, a canal specifically, connected to the larger harbor by Buttermilk channel.  The water in the canal stagnates as a result of a broken ventilating pump system at the far end of the canal.  It is a remnant of the larger heavy industry that once existed in this part of Brooklyn and received all of the shipments of brownstone from up the Hudson that made most of Park Slope’s beautiful brownstones.  The canal also became a dumping-ground; it is not uncommon to find all manner of  things floating in the water that at times resembles muddy anti-freeze.  It is a miraculous canal as well, several summers ago I came to notice that dozens of red jelly fish made the canal their home.

As I began the sadhana (ritual text) I felt that I wanted to offer myself to the inner-demon who most represents the Gowanus Canal.  In fact, I specifically tried to make this session an offering to the local gods associated with this area.  I imagine that the god-demon of this particular place is one of the lords of places that are ignored; places where we leave, or even dump things that we no longer want, places of stagnation, where oxygen is literally consumed by the waste that we store; of things unwanted yet unable to be fully let go of, a ghostly world of secrets.  For me, the god-demon of the Gowanus Canal is the lord of inner-wastelands.

The wonderful thing about Chod is the way in which we can access, face, and pacify all of our internal demons.  It is very powerful, if that is, you choose to try to really look for these painful and frightening demons.  It is also possible to do the practice while not particularly looking that hard; and then while you may make nice sounds with your bell and damaru, not much else happens.

The term “demon” is mostly taken to represent an internal neurosis or emotional focal point that distracts and provides an ability to obsess in a way that makes direct experience of the mind very difficult.  These demons, while self-creations, can feel so real that they tend to paralyze and create huge amounts of suffering, indeed they can be considered the agents of samsara.  They exert great power upon us in the form of fear, jealousy, hatred, pride, and in this case, secret internal toxicity.

Machik Lobdron, the female 12th century Tibetan founder of the Chod lineage, created a practice based in prajnaparamita literature as well as within tantric Buddhism.  Part of this practice involves offering a mandala offering of one’s body:

The trunk and head serve as Mt. Meru in the center, the four limbs serve as the four continents, the sun and moon are the right and left eyes, the ground is our freshly flayed skin, and the fingers and toes are arranged as a great mighty chain of iron mountains that encircle the whole mandala.

The more realistic the visualization the better- we are after all butchering this prized body of ours, ornamented with the pearls of ego fixation, self-nature, and pride.  But after the reluctance, and after the discomfort, what is there?  What remains?  In offering freely to the assembly of god-demons who terrify us most so that they may benefit, so that they may turn their minds to the dharma and become buddhas in their own right there is a chance to experience our original nature.  This is a way of experiencing prajnaparamita.

So how do we touch the inner demon of stagnation?  Where is the place within ourselves where we dump things that we don’t want, the place that holds our secrets, our inner wasteland?  This place exists. It is in all of us.  Like a black pearl made from an initial irritant that has  grown many protective layers meant to distract and soothe the oyster that is it’s container.  How can we bring this to light?  These fears are in reality great strengths- they are pearls…

So here I found myself, in a modern charnel ground surrounded by  condom wrappers, dead rats, crushed beer cans, and other things left behind.  While at first glance it may appear different from the charnel grounds of old, where bodies were burnt or left to decay, places frequented by wild animals, a place that elicits fear, but upon looking a little closer, this place is no different.  It is a place where illicit things are done, where illicit things have been done- it is a dangerous place.  It is a place of fear.  The canal is off the radar.  Once a place of great beauty it is now easily overlooked, as if we don’t want to have any personal relationship with it.

Perhaps the Gowanas Canal is one of the eight great charnel grounds of India reflected in our daily lives here.  In the New York area I am certain that it is.  In my post on sacred geography (here is a link), I mentioned the historical importance of internal and external geography as it relates to the practice of Buddhist tantra.  It seems that the Gowanus Canal occupies a place internally that can offer real growth and healing.  What does it feel like to make an offering to, and thereby appreciate the parts of us that we have very willingly forgotten, the parts of us that are stagnant?

As I performed the chod sadhana, made sang offerings (smoke offerings) to the beings that live in the canal and all the beings that the canal represents, and while I hung prayer flags, I found myself recalling all that I have tried to hide, the parts of me that lay stagnant internal dumping grounds; my own inner pollution.  I also recalled patients who I have met as a chaplain for whom these dynamics were in play, and prayed that we could all, every sentient being, bring honor and offerings to the inner demon that presides over this type of activity.  May they be satisfied.  May this offering pacify these demons.  There is a line at the end of the sadhana which speaks to chaplaining these demons:

The roots of virtue from this practice of freely offering my body, the roots from caring for god-demons with my bodhicitta, and further however many roots of virtue that have been accumulated throughout the three times-all of this I dedicate for the benefit of living beings in the three realms, malevolent god-demons, and others.

With this kind of caring in mind, our own inner chaplaincy, may we know our inner demons and plant the seeds of buddhahood in our own inner wastelands so that they become purelands!

May any merit from this blog post be dedicated to all beings, especially those who are suffering in Japan after the recent earthquake and tsunami.

Gewo.