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I have discovered that the questions most asked
of me by Jews are "how" questions. I am recognized as a
Buddhist. I am also -- and have become much more open
about this part in the last few years -- an observant Jew. Not
only more open, but also more observant. Because I am a
Buddhist. Because I have a meditation practice. So the
questions now are: "How did that happen?" "What is your
practice?" "Do you pray?" "To whom?" "Why?" "Do you
also do metta (lovingkindness) practice?" "When do you do
what?" "Why?" "What are your 'observances,' and why do
you do them?" "How do you deal with the patriarchal tone
of Jewish prayers?" "What is your relationship to the
Torah?" "To Buddhist scripture?" Most of all, "How can
you be a Buddhist and a Jew?" And, "Can I?"
The answer to the "how" questions requires that I tell
my personal story. Certainly not my story as a prescription
for anyone else, but to explain how my Buddhism has
made me more passionately alive as a Jew. And how my renewed
Judaism has made me a better Buddhist teacher.
When I realized the degree of personal exposure that
telling my story would require, I became alarmed that I was
going to rock the boat. I had been quietly enjoying a private
life as a Jew and some new, pleasant recognition as a
Buddhist teacher. I had been accepting invitations for some
years to teach Jewish groups, and although I had worried
initially that they would be hostile about my Buddhism,
they weren't. They invited me back. Then I worried about
the Buddhists.
"What if the Buddhists get mad at me for not renouncing Judaism?"
Clearly, this was my issue, not anyone else's. No one is
mad at me. I've been announcing myself, regularly, at
Buddhist teachers' meetings, and it causes no ripple at all. I
feel anticipatory alarm, I tell my truth, and it is completely
a nonevent.
Recently I was one of twenty-six teachers meeting with
the Dalai Lama in Dharamsala, India, to discuss how we
are teaching Buddhism in the West. As part of the preparation
for our meeting, we each answered the question,
"What is the greatest current spiritual challenge in your
practice and teaching?"
I thought, "Okay, this is it! These are major teachers in
all lineages, these are people I respect and who I hope will
respect me." And I said my truth: "I am a Jew. These days I
spend a lot of my time teaching Buddhist meditation to
Jews. It gives me special pleasure to teach Jews, and sometimes
special problems. I feel it's my calling, though, something
I'm supposed to do. And I'm worried that someone
here will think I'm doing something wrong. Someone will
say, 'You're not a real Buddhist!"'
It was another nonevent. I think -- I hope -- that was the
"One Last River to Cross." I never did ask the Dalai Lama if
what I am doing is okay. It had become, for me, a nonquestion
by the time we got to our meetings with him. My particular
group discussed "Lay and Monastic Practice in the
West," and I did say, "I am a Jew, and monasticism is not
part of Jewish tradition." I'm not entirely sure of the context
in which I made that remark. It may not have been
completely relevant to the discussion. Perhaps it was
prompted by my desire to make sure I made my declaration
publicly, in Dharamsala to the Dalai Lama, just in case that
might emerge later as "one more river."
The three-hour return taxi ride from Dharamsala to
Pathankot was occasionally hair-raising. Indian taxis are
truly dangerous. Accidents, fatal ones, are common. I was
sitting in front with the driver, trying to maintain some
composure in the face of many last-minute reprieves. As
we passed through one particular section of narrow mountain
road, there were a few swerves that brought the taxi
very close to the edge.
My friend Jack Kornfield was sitting with Steve Smith
and Heinz Roiger in the backseat.
Jack said, "I hope you are saying protection mantras,
Sylvia."
I said, "Of course I am."
He said, "Are they Jewish mantras or Buddhist
mantras?"
I said, "Both."
Jack laughed. "Good."
Excerpt from THAT'S FUNNY, YOU DON'T LOOK BUDDHIST, copyright © 1997 by Sylvia Boorstein. Reprinted with permission of HarperCollins Publishers. All rights reserved.
