Tripped up by Holiness: Dr. Rick Strassman
Rick Strassman has turned up before in Pale Green Vortex. In 'Bring on the New' (October 6th, 2011), he was cited as an example of somebody educated within the scientific orthodoxy who was forced to revise his world-view, based upon rational materialism, as a result of his own scientific investigations. In some respects, the most remarkable aspect of his research - into the effects of DMT (the 'spirit molecule') in the early 1990s, if you recall - was not the testimony of his subjects who volunteered to take this powerful psychedelic. Even more noteworthy was the way he actually succeeded in obtaining U.S. government approval for his research in the first place, the first officially recognised of its type for twenty years. And, secondly, that throughout this entire period Strassman was a practising Buddhist. It is this latter aspect, the interface between his Buddhist life and the DMT research, that is most revealing here....
Strassman first came across the U.S. Zen monastery with which he was to become affiliated in 1974 through a meditation retreat ('I felt as if I had arrived home' - yes, a familiar feeling!). In classic Zen fashion, his main practice was to 'just sit', though he substantially augmented his understanding of the mind by means of teachings such as those on the Abhidharma, a catalogue and analysis of different types of mental states, received from the Nyingma Institute of Tibetan Buddhism in Berkeley, California. He later ran a Zen meditation group in his home; underwent a lay ordination into Zen Buddhism; was married at the Zen monastery in 1990. In other words, he was the 'real deal', a serious and sincere practitioner, not at all an armchair Buddhist.
Strassman's approach to his research in psychedelics was accordingly infused with his Buddhist practice: how he would adopt the inner attitude of 'just sitting' while attending his volunteers' sometimes existentially-challenging DMT experiences; assisting those same volunteers to let go of the contents of their mind if they became stuck; and so on. The crossover between his research and Buddhism was further pointed up when he discovered that the majority of people involved in the Zen monastery had initially been propelled in that direction by their experiences with psychedelics.
Over the years of his research, Rick kept informed of progress his trusted monk friends, as well as seeking out their advice on occasion. To begin with, all was well. Come 1994, however, personal doubts about the value of the research were growing, and circumstances led to his moving to Canada. There he attended the local, monastery-affiliated Zen group, where he met Venerable Gwendolyn, with whom he discussed the research project. A week after the meditation retreat, he was surprised to receive a phone call from Gwendolyn. 'I was sick for three days after talking to you........ I called the abbot who, as you know, is near death. This is the first issue he has taken a personal interest in for over a year. He and I have talked, as I did with other senior monks. We have decided you must stop your research immediately......' A catalogue of accusations was harshly addressed at Strassman by Gwendolyn and others within the monastic community. Strassman was eager to discuss, but 'none of (my) attempts at enlarging the dialogue met with any success. What was going on?'
The end came when, in autumn 1996, Strassman wrote an article for 'Tricycle' magazine, a prominent western Buddhist publication, entitled 'DMT and the Dharma'. Among other things, he suggested that members of the psychedelic community might benefit from the discipline and structure afforded by Buddhism. At the same time, certain Buddhist practitioners, dedicated but with only limited success in meditation over the years, could conceivably gain assistance from a carefully-organised psychedelic session to accelerate their practice.
The nastiness escalated; anybody wishing to detail its course should read up for themselves. How Strassman, manifesting in his suggestions those most Buddhist of virtues helpful speech and compassion for his fellow human beings, was treated is both salutary and shameful. But for Rick, what was happening began to become clear. The abbot was dying, and wanted to leave his teachings unsullied by controversy. Even the monks, those former users of psychedelics, who Strassman had once treated as confidants, were up for promotion in the ranks, and similarly wished to appear clear, clean, and pure ('Who was the most zealous defender of the teaching?'). It was imperative to 'prevent mistakes from being made in the name of Buddhism'. It's what I, less charitably, call the stink of organised religion. As Strassman says 'Holiness had won out over truth. The particular brand of Buddhism was no different from any other organisation whose survival depended upon a uniformly accepted platform of ideas.'
Holiness winning out over truth? In the Catholic Church maybe, and among the more rigid orthodoxies of Islam. But in Buddhism? Aren't Buddhists nice people, striving selflessly towards the Enlightenment achieved by Shakyamuni Buddha 2500 years ago? Well, sometimes, it appears....
My conclusion, based upon reasoning, personal observation, and direct experience, is that, the moment any 'tradition of awakening' becomes reified into a formalised structure and hierarchy, its integrity stands to be compromised. That is not to say that there aren't individuals within those organisations who are fantastic folk, seriously motoring along the sacred path. But when the religious instinct comes to roost within a formalised context, it will inevitably encounter the pitfalls and distractions inherent to that approach.
Buddhism is, typically, a subtle example. While Catholicism, for instance, is structured in a simple hierarchical pyramid of authority and control, with the Pope at the top and the multitude of ordinary sinners at the bottom, Buddhism is best considered as multicentric. A web of schools, sects, and traditions has grown up over the years. Yet each is its own little formalised pyramid with its own agenda that, to varying degrees, concerns continuity, corporate survival, group identity, and appearance to society as a whole, as well as it does personal liberation.
Let's take the example of the Dalai Lama. A few naughty websites aside, the consensus is that he is a great guy, always talking up compassion, peace, patience, and all sort of worthy stuff, invariably with a cheeky smile on his face. But take a step back and consider how totally compromised the fellow really must be! Given his status in the political arena and role as spiritual leader for the people of Tibet, the number of things he can say or seriously allow himself to think is probably outweighed by those that are off-limits. Take a piece of paper and make a quick list of the viewpoints he will not be able to have. Is this really a recipe for the great liberation of Enlightenment? For sure, this is one dignitary who won't be recommending the integration of Buddhism and DMT in a hurry......
Then there is the small matter of personal experience. It is not my intention to belittle the undoubted benefits I accrued through my involvement over more than two decades - at first wholehearted and enthusiastic, later on less so - with a particular Buddhist organisation in the U.K. But there again I encountered a dynamic that is subtle yet clear. In retrospect, I can say that my experience was of a constant uneasy alliance between 'the development of the individual' on the one hand, and 'the needs of the movement' (the organisation) on the other. Over the years, an inordinate amount of time and energy has gone into trying to create that 'uniformly accepted platform of ideas', as Strassman so brilliantly puts it. With the wisdom of hindsight, I can affirm that there were times when my own best spiritual interests were sacrificed for the 'greater good of the needs of the organisation'. More than a several times was I exorted to 'give the benefit of the doubt' when I questioned the wisdom of some edict from those apparently more experienced than me. Sadly, I suspect that I succumbed to the great 'benefit-giving' teaching myself on a number of occasions, when speaking to relative newcomers. I apologise to anyone whose intelligence I may have insulted in this way.
Rather unkindly, maybe, I have been known to wonder whether, had certain individuals put the same effort into their personal practice as they have into creating systems, elucidating principles, and evolving all manner of processes that protect people from the thornier reality of actually working things out for themselves, they might be fully-fledged bodhisattvas by now. As it is, in an echo of Strassman's Zen group, the head of the Order appears, in this late stage of his life, to be greatly concerned with expounding and clarifying the platform of ideas that he would like to be as universally accepted as possible, and which he is anxious to be seen as his legacy.
The main hope, I feel, for the future of this Order as a genuine vehicle for awakening and liberation lies with those members - some friends of mine included - with sufficient experience and maturity to cast an eye over these more formalised aspects before just getting on with their own walking of the sacred path.
For me, things could easily have been far worse. Extreme disempowerment is something I avoided, but it can be the sorry bedfellow of formalised hierarchy in religion. In 1976, during my quest for a suitable Buddhist group to get involved with, I attended a three-week retreat at the then newly-established Manjusri Institute in north-west England. This was the real deal, with proper Tibetan lamas, and I intended to move there and get stuck in immediately afterwards. The retreat proved to be fairly rigorous in a rather uptight way, including a week of doing the monkish thing of one meal per day, with no food at all after midday. One evening, in the midst of our endeavours, an extremely strong atmosphere manifested in the shrine room; many of us, me included, were well and truly 'blissed out'. I was quietly horrified the following morning, however, when all the talk was of how the lamas must have been beaming down really strong energy from their quarters above the shrine room. Er, excuse me, but what about all our blood, sweat, and tears shed over the past fortnight in pursuit of our spiritual ideals? That, apparently, counted for nothing, and I realised that this gurucentric stuff was not only deluded but downright dangerous. So certain had I been previously that this would become my spiritual home, that I had given a good portion of my post-commune savings to the Institute. However, I could not go ahead with the move. This was no place for me. I went to London instead, to walk the gold-paved streets with the group I have written about above.
A side issue to emerge from this article is how it points up the 'anarcho' element in the anarcho-shamanism of Pale Green Vortex. Taken in its more serious meaning, 'anarchism' denotes a minimisation of formal and organised hierarchy. It emphasises that direct and unique contact with the sacred, the divine, our authenticity, or whatever, is more likely outside the constraints of organised, 'officialised' groupings. One reading of the history of religion over the past 5000 years or more involves the progressive removal of the possibilities for direct experience of gnosis from the general populace. At best, it could be mediated by members of a priestly class (who, at worst, turned out to be self-serving bullies). Those who claim that the context of a formalised organisation is necessary for personal awakening are, frankly, speaking through their hat. My admiration extends to someone like James Hillman, whose work has profoundly influenced many people, but who strenuously and persistently refused to accede to the formation of a James Hillman Institute or any other reification of Hillmanesquerie. It is not uncommon to hear the refrain nowadays that the day of the guru and the cult is over. I tend to agree.
There is a second side-show elucidated by the anarchism in anarcho-shamanism. Historically, shamanic techniques have not always been used for the good. Access to other dimensions has been attained with the aim of getting one over on your neighbour, for taking out a rival, for power and domination; black magic, in common parlance. It is important to recognise this dark side to shamanism, if only to acknowledge its existence then move on. 'Anarcho' connotes a lack of hierarchical power games since it connotes minimising hierarchical power. It has no truck with this kind of stuff. Its concerns are with healing and, above all else, gnosis. It is to this that Pale Green Vortex is primarily dedicated.
All quotes in this piece from 'DMT: The Spirit Molecule' by Rick Strassman, M.D.
