10.1.25

Sometimes I wonder what my life would be like if I weren’t a part of an organized religion. 

I know I wouldn’t be alive right now. 

I know that to my very core. 

I needed a serious, strict and devoted community to pull me out of my darkest hour and help me find my light again. 

And that is what my sangha looked like for me. 

They saved me. 


11 years later, I look for those people and I don’t know where they are. 

Or where they went. 
I don’t see them anymore.

I don’t understand. 

I see my yogi friends who are so free and devoted to their own souls. 

I see these spiritual people living a life of happiness and freedom without any strict religion backing them up. 

I used to look down on people like this. 

I used to think - they don’t have an authentic truth to keep them grounded. 

They are merely wandering souls that can so easily get lost in the slippery slopes of modern day spirituality. 

And now. 

I don’t feel that way. 

I see their genuine freedom. 

I see their genuine hearts. 

I see the way that they live for themselves, and the love they have for this world. 

They don’t do it because some ancient lineage told them to. 

They do it because their soul guides them to do this work. 

Every single day. 

I envy them. 

I never thought I would say this. 

I never thought that this type of struggle would come my way. 

I never, ever expected that the people who pulled me out of that darkness, would be the same people to try and push me out of my power. 

But the truth is, I am deeply struggling with the idea of organized religion. 

I am deeply struggling with the feeling of carrying an ancient lineage on my back. 

And feeling that my every move is being watched with scornful eyes. 

There have been phases in my life where I need to take a complete break from my Buddhist practices. 

And I suppose I’m in one of those phases now. 

The thing is, it’s not really about the Buddhism. 

I still pray to Guru Rinpoche everyday. 

I still meditate every day. 

I recite my versus and cleanse myself almost compulsively. 

I live the teachings of the Buddha in my every waking breath. 

It's about the pressure. 

The expectations. 

The performance. 

The robes. 

The rituals. 

The shrines. 

It’s all feeling so material to me. 

The way that all of us refer to one single man for our answers. 

A man that I love deeply. 

The most important man in my life. 

The person I respect and admire more than anything and anyone in my life. 

He is still human. 

He is only human. 

And I’m learning to be comfortable with disagreeing with him. 

I’m learning to be comfortable to stand up for my truth when I don’t like how our business is being run. 

And the fork in the road I stand at now is this: 

Do I remain as a fighter to carry on this sacred lineage and allow it to survive the future generations through my own devotion to this organization? 

Or do I wander off on my own, let the Buddha guide me and allow myself to live my own Buddhist life on my own mystical terms? 

Everyday I ask the buddha to guide me. 

And every day, he offers me new challenges. 

Funny enough, I’ve been rewatching one of my favorite TV shows - Big Love. 

I wanted my girlfriend to see the world I came from. 

The fascinating world of the chasm between the FLDS and LDS faiths. 

This FLDS man who was abandoned by his own family as a teenager, 

is picked up off the streets due to the goodness of the LDS people of Salt Lake City. 

And yet, he still deeply believes in living the “principle.” 

The principle being - polygamy. 

He promises himself that he will never again be a part of any organized religion. 

And decides to raise his own family with three wives, living through his own mystical faith. 

I don’t want to spoil the ending for you - but my favorite part is when he begins to believe that women also carry the priesthood. 

And that women can also offer blessings just as powerful as any man’s. 

This show that is so hated by LDS and FLDS folks alike - is such a spiritual journey of a man and the strength of his own testimony. 

Who knew HBO + the fucked up culture that I come from would be such an inspiration to me during this time. 

Because the truth is, it’s my dream to open my own Buddhist center. 

A dream that I felt like I was about to feel on my own fingertips. 

Until one Tik Tok post tore that all down for me. 

I am beginning to see and feel that organized religion breeds ego. 

It breeds gossip. 

It breeds judgmental and self-righteous eyes. 

I see why so many of my idols never built Buddhist centers - 

But famous meditation centers instead. 

While I feel deeply that it is my purpose to carry on this Buddhist lineage. 

I do not feel deeply that it is my purpose to share Buddhism or convert other folks. 

I feel strongly that it is my purpose to create a center where anyone can simply come and sit. 

To feel the presence of the Buddha. 

To feel the safety and refuge of a center. 

To find spiritual guidance and friendship. 

With no hierarchy. 

No lamas. 

No lines of succession. 

Just a beautiful space. 

Perhaps some book clubs. 

Perhaps some meditation classes. 

Perhaps some gatherings for tea and community with those who have chosen the middle way. 

No robes. 

No rituals. 

No chanting in a language that we do not speak.

Just a loving space. 

A space like the one that pulled me out of my darkness so many years ago. 

That is what I want. 

And I don’t want to ask anyone permission to do it. 

The Buddha will guide me towards it if it’s meant to be that way. 

And for now, it’s okay to be standing at this fork and not sure which path I will take. 

The life of devotion isn’t meant to be easy breezy. 

It’s meant to be met with challenges to overcome. 

Challenges to strengthen my faith. 

For now, I will continue to stand still and wait for the clearest next step. 

And encourage myself to share my thoughts along the way. 

Thank you for reading this. 

Thank you for allowing me to have this space to share. 

It helps me to feel more clear. 

It helps me to feel more devoted to my faith. 

One that is guided by my own inner wisdom. 

And no one else’s.