Dharma Studio practices examine how creativity and Buddhist practice interrelate. As an artist, educator, and Buddhist practitioner, I have observed and explored the deep relationships between creative work and awareness practices I thought it would be interesting to talk with some long time practitioners and Buddhist teachers about the relationships between creativity and Buddhist practice in their lives. So, over the next months, I will be conducting a series of interviews on this site.
The first interview is with my own teacher of nine years, the Venerable Deok Wun Sunim, a fully ordained Buddhist monk. Deok Wun Sunim was the founding teacher and former abbot of the Grand Rapids Buddhist Temple and Zen Center. He left full time teaching several years ago and now runs a bed and breakfast in western New York. He recently published the first in a trilogy of young adult fantasy novels. I am looking forward to hearing about this new creative venture, and how it relates to his practice.
These interviews are conducted in writing. Questions are sent to each interviewee, and they send me their written replies.
Deok Wun: Before I answer your questions I would like to preface my remarks with a brief comment.
Buddhism IS inherently a creative practice. Once one engages Buddhism, they are undertaking a process that re-creates themselves and the world around them. Where previously they may have thought of themselves as an “I” and the world as something outside of them, Buddhism takes you on a journey to an awareness that the “I” is a fiction. This Buddhist journey leads to a direct realization that all things are interdependent. Nothing exists alone or apart. Buddhism asks that you re-create your view in accord with this realization. The result is a recreation of self.
The vehicles used include rituals, study, and the direct experience of the universal truths of suffering, the causes of suffering, and ways to ease suffering. These direct realizations are, in my view, profoundly creative. In the end, the creator is not someone or something outside of you. You are the creator.
Lianghua Su Jill Eggers: Your first novel in a trilogy, The Enchanters, has just been published. I am very curious about where the idea for these books came from. Did you have simmering ideas about writing in this genre for a while, or was it something that just popped up?
DW: I have always been fascinated by fairy tales. My interest was first aroused when I read Frazier’s The Golden Bough. He was a professor at Oxford who employed his graduate students in a world wide survey of all cultures to explore how fairy tales, totems, taboos, and “sympathetic magic” were used to influence their lives and the world around them. It is a weighty series of books. The abridged version runs almost 900 pages! Jung’s work on the Collective Unconscious was also a major influence. Then, as I explored Eastern traditions, I discovered that the same themes emerged. Tibetan Buddhism is especially rich with spirit realms. I learned that there were influences, real or imagined, that exists alongside that which we believe is “real”. The question for me became a “what if”. What if there is a parallel world? Next, I began reading about quantum physics, entanglement theory, multi-verse theory, and similar topics. I concluded that fairy tales were one way older cultures attempted to explain the phenomena they could not otherwise explain. This lead me to want to write a fairy tale that demonstrated these beliefs. The Clonfert House Chronicles attempts to weave a tale that shows that there is more to the universe than what we see. That there is more than one realm and that there are those who work to join those realms together for the greater good.
As for the specifics of the Clonfert House Chronicles, I chose Ireland as the central setting because of its long tradition of the meeting between the spirit and human realms. I wanted the characters to be multi-cultural to show that the human realm is made up of diverse people who ultimately share a common commitment to do good.
The characters did just “show up”. The Temne twins, Affey and Minda, were African American from the very start. I am not sure why they showed up as such, but they did. Michael and Kevin are based on my two oldest and closest friends. The spirit world characters seemed to reveal themselves as the writing progressed. The professors of Clonfert House likewise just seemed to be present from the start. They each have some element of those teachers and mentors I have had.
The story itself evolved as I wrote. I began with an outline of The Enchanters, but as I developed it, the story took on a life of its own. Where I started and where I ended up were not the same place.
As the story unfolded I relied on my Buddhist practice and discipline. Specifically, to be aware each moment of the characters, and the events. Rather than force the story, I tried to be aware of where it wanted to go. And that is how the story continues to unfold.
JE: I’ve read the manuscripts of both the first and second novel. I kind of think of them as spiritual fairy tales. You are a lifelong voracious reader and know the tradition of the fairy tale. This background and your knowledge of a range of spiritual traditions is apparent in your new books. Did you do any specific research to figure out how to write this kind of novel, or was it more an organic outgrowth of your reading and other experience?
DW: I did not do any research on how to write a fantasy novel. I read a lot in all genres and was familiar with what makes a fantasy a fantasy. You did touch on a central point---spirituality. I intentionally try to weave spiritual elements because it is such a fundamental part of my own world view. Someone once said, “write what you know”. That is what I did. It was an organic process and continues to be as I work on part 3 of the series. An example of the “write what you know” idea, the sorcerer in Book 2, Corradhu, and his roots in Sardinia, Italy, are all taken from my time living there.
JE: Can you describe any discipline or routine you have for your writing practice?
DW: When I set aside time to write I follow a strict routine as most writers suggest a person follow. I do not write from May through October because I am too busy with running the bed and breakfast. I write from November through March. Each day I write in the morning. I write a minimum of 500 words each day. Often it is more than that. I first write in long hand. Then, I begin to transcribe. As I do, I frequently change the thrust of the chapter. The next day I start by proofing the prior day’s work. It helps me pick up the thread of the story. Then, It’s on to the next chapter. At the end of each week I read through the entire story up to that point making note of things to change or clarify. Once the first draft is done, I step aside for a few days before coming back to read through it again.
JE: Did your experience of a practice discipline influence your discipline in writing?
DW: Absolutely. To fully engage the process of Buddhism one must be disciplined in two ways: first, in sitting daily in meditation in whatever form that takes. Second, there is the discipline of awareness from moment to moment. Being aware of what one encounters, how one reacts to those encounters, and making no judgments, which is perhaps the hardest part. As the zen patriarch says in the Hsin Hsin Ming, “to separate what you like from what you dislike is a disease of the mind.”
JE: I found the characters in these books to be very vivid and alive. You get inside the head of each of them. Can you talk about where they came from, and how you learned to develop characters as a writer, especially since you are new to writing fiction.
DW: Character development comes from my experience in the theatre where I worked for many years as an actor and director. For these books, my experience directing children’s theatre was probably the main source. Working with young people in the theatre and teaching them how to create a character helped in creating the characters in this series. Working with young people also informed my understanding of how they view the world, the way the approach it. What I had to keep reminding myself is that the audience for this series is young adults whose experiences are still limited, yet their insights are not. While they are at times cautious, they are never really afraid of taking a leap into the unknow. I tried to show these different approaches in the four main characters. Minda is the least cautious of the four and will leap into the challenges. She is willful and sure of herself. Her twin sister, Affey, is at first reticent, but as you know, as the story progresses she emerges as a powerful young woman as she overcomes her fears. Michael is the most cautious--a typical teenager who is not yet sure of his place in the world. Kevin, swings between caution and abandon. He represents the struggle young people encounter trying to figure out who they are. The other characters in part one are all based on archetypes, especially Jungian archetypes. One character who should have a special mention is Major Lisset. I wanted her to be the modern woman who can face any challenge and, at least in Part 1, makes a final dramatic appearance.
JE: Can you talk about any relationships that may exist for you between writing these stories, and being a Buddhist teacher?
DW: I have spent a large portion of my adult life as a teacher. In addition to being a Buddhist teacher, I have taught Humanities at the high school and college level. I have always thought that being a good teacher meant asking good questions. Good teachers help[ students discover what they already know or point them in the direction of discovery. I have tried to weave that approach through the adult characters who mentor the four teenagers. If you notice, the adults never really tell the four what to do, Instead, they create moments of discovery.
JE: Do you have plans for future books? Any other creative projects you are working on that you want to share with us here?
DW: This winter I will complete Part 3 of the series. After that I plan on a book recounting the year in college when I lived in a haunted house where a 7 year old girl, Elizabeth, dwelled.
JE: When I was first looking at ways to teach creative practices in relation to Buddhist practice, you suggested I read the work of American Zen Buddhist teacher, John Daido Loori. I also subsequently spent some time at a retreat at the Zen Mountain Monastery studying with one of his close students. I found in his writing such a deeply found, felt relationship between practice, and creativity. For Loori, the place of creating and place of practice are inextricably linked, and he came to Buddhist practice through his creative practice, in many ways.. Can you talk about how creative work, and Buddhist practice, are related for you?
DW: Everything is related. I suppose one way to answer this question is by also addressing your question 11. (JE: Note—the written interview questions were numbered. Question 11 is two questions down.) Too often Buddhists think that the practice only takes place in the temple or on the cushion in meditation. Those are just “trainings,” not the practice of Buddhism. Buddhism is a way of moving through the world---not the world of temples or monasteries, but the world of everyday living. How we work. How we are with family and friends. In fact, we don’t need temples or clergy. We need ordinary people who live the truths of Buddhism. In the Vimilakirti Sutra, the Buddha sends his disciples off to meet Vimilikirti, a layman who is enlightenment to the universal truths of Buddhism. His disciples are reluctant to go because they, like so many, think only someone special can gain enlightenment. To his disciples dismay, Vimilikiti shows them just how wrong they are. There is a powerful lesson in this sutra. It points out that you don’t need to be a monastic. A person living an ordinary life has just as much of a chance at enlightenment as the most cloistered monastic. This sutra is what prompted me to leave the clergy and live an ordinary life in accordance with the universal truths of Buddhism, i.e., selflessness, ease suffering, recognize what is there in front of me moment to moment, accept my failures, embrace the transitory nature of all things, and work for the benefit of others. That is all Buddhism is.
JE: In Grand Rapids you created and built a community of practice, and were engaged and immersed very deeply for years in that practice context: creating a physical temple space, organizing a liturgy, training and teaching students, clergy, and maintaining that detailed order of a religious organization with all the layers of ritual and practice. Was this a natural kind of environment for you, making and sustaining a practice--and can you talk about your experience of that as a creative practice?
DW: At first it was. I have always had a monastic bent. But, as the years passed it seemed that I didn’t fit in that way any longer. I wanted something simpler. Also, I found that I could not convince others that there was nothing special about being a clergy person. Too many who want to be clergy want to be seen as special or apart from the very people they are supposed to serve. It was frustrating for me because they didn’t quite get it. I thought that perhaps if I left I could model a different approach.
JE: One of my students is currently reading the Vimilakirti Sutra. He was surprised to read about a lay practitioner and enlightened being who was also a businessman very engaged in the life of the world. Over the years, you have had some of your students read this sutra to bring out this idea—that ritual and outer trappings were not the practice---the path of practice is not essentially linked to rituals, robes, and monastery life. Many people reading this knew you as a Buddhist monk and were used to seeing you in robes and in the context of a temple, rituals, a weekly service, etc. Now you are living a life as a layperson. This is a difficult concept for many, because of our natural tendency to want to order and categorize—especially our tendency to want to separate the sacred and the profane. Can you talk about this, and how you consider and relate with this change in your life?
DW: “Missing” is not how I think of it. Students are usually the best teachers. The encounters with students is humbling. I do wish there were more students in my life, but the few there are, like you, give me hope that Buddhism will thrive.
JE: Do you have any advice to give to the practitioner about any aspects of nurturing creativity and developing practice?
DW: Seek out a teacher, like yourself, who models this. That is the best way. Such a teacher has had the direct experience of the junction between creativity and practice. They see not just the value of a creative practice, but they live their Buddhism in and through their art. Thinks of how it has affected you. As a creative artist, a teacher, and a teaching monk just let them come along with you. Point things out and ask them questions---lots of questions. Isn’t that what you do naturally?
JE: Is there anything else you would like to say?
DW: After all my years of practice and study I have reduced my Buddhist reading to a single document: The Hsin Hsin Ming. In 10 or so pages all of Buddhism is presented. All the universal truths are there. Want to know how to move through life happy? Read this text.