My first article for BDG, nearly 10 years ago, was “Meditation as Sustenance for Death & Dying.” In it I wrote:

Meditation enriches our experience of life and helps guide through the natural process of dying. Caring for ourselves and others through expressive means is an act of great compassion, honoring and acknowledging the fullness of our human complexity and intuitive wisdom.

 Meditation is the catalyst for transformation and liberation. Meditation is the original technology humans have to navigate both living and dying, and everything in between.

Ten years ago, digital tech and AI were far less pervasive and “evolved” than today. They have both enriched and in some ways damaged our society. Yet here, rather than merely debate the benefits and perils of AI, or the advantages and pitfalls of virtual-only sanghas or social media, I wish to uplift the timeless tools of human body, speech, and mind in our highly technological age.

Alongside my experience as a Nyingma school ngakmo, or mantrayana practitioner, in the Dudjom Tersar lineage, I also teach the Dharma to children. I began my career as an art teacher and professional artist, and now train schoolteachers to integrate the Dharma into natural and social sciences curricula. It is joyful, complex work and a path I cherish.

Before I met the Vajrayana, I encountered Suzuki Roshi’s book, Zen Mind, Beginner’s Mind (Weatherhill, 1970), one of my very first Dharma texts. The ethos of beginner’s mind is an amulet for the journey of discovery and for holding space for students to unlayer themselves—to discover wisdom within, via Wisdom without, underneath our habitual patterning.

My first meditation teacher was Reverend Taitetsu Unno, a renowned and much beloved scholar, minister, and author in Jodo Shinshu, Pure Land Buddhism. So both Vajrayana and Jodo Shinshu have informed my life, although I am much more thoroughly steeped in Vajrayana, by the blessings of my lineage teachers. The other pillar of wisdom for me is Mother Earth, the natural world. In the Tannisho, Shinran himself stated: as translated and introduced by Reverend Unno:

Interconnectedness with life . . . extends not only to humans but to all beings, both animate and inanimate. Based on the central Mahayana philosophy of interdependence and interpenetration, Shinran writes:

The Tathágata pervades the countless worlds; filling
the hearts and minds of the ocean of all beings. Thus,
plants, trees, and land all attain Buddhahood. Since it
is with this heart and mind of all sentient beings that
they entrust themselves to the Vow of Dharmakaya-as-
compassion (Amida Buddha), this entrusting is
none other than Buddha-nature (Notes, p. 42).

While Shinran referred to inanimate things such as trees, stones, and landforms, can we now imagine extending this to artificial intelligence, whose lines become blurred with natural or original intelligent lifeforms? In doing so we must ask, can AI meditate? Or feel love, fear death, or arouse compassion, remorse, or sorrow?

If meditation is the heart of all Buddhist practice and therefore of awakening, then does AI have a potential for sentience, or is it merely a highly developed and nuanced tool—a tool fraught by the lack of conscience, shame, or remorse? In Mahayana, as well as Tantrayana, the “four thoughts that turn the mind toward the Dharma”—precious human life, impermanence, karma, and suffering—form the foundation on which further meditation practice unfolds. Our Navigation toward awakening requires three essential features, which I describe as:

One, the Map: formed of the Buddhadharma teachings, in their vast beauty and breadth;

Two, the Compass: our seeking human heart (inclusive of, but not limited to merely our intellect), with our full range of feelings, perceptions, sensations, and;

Three, the Key to the Treasure Chest: which is our devotion, love, faith, or trust (in the guru, whether human or deity, or the path, or the nembutsu, as examples). After appropriate investigation as to the reliability of the object of our refuge, we give over, rely upon, trust, or surrender to, (especially at the time of death or great hardship). This is a facet of renunciation, as well as a key to liberation.

So here, the Jodo Shinshu (Nembutsu) and Vajrayana (Guru Devotion) demonstrate both counterpoint and congruence. Both rely on trust. Trust in the wisdom of embodiment, our relationship with the elements, and one another, and what it means to be “in person” or “a being.” We must give up our “expert mind” in favor of  “beginner’s mind” and use the tools of joy, humor, service, questioning, and allowing for sadness/grief (true inward renunciation) to bring us toward humility within technological innovation, including the further development of AI. What is “better than human” if our human inconsistency, fallibility, and uniqueness include our capacity for tenderness , vulnerability, spontaneity, curiosity, and openness? These are all facets of the precious human gemstone.

If AI can neither consider (nor sense) the preciousness of its own existence, nor meditate and awaken to the true nature of reality, then I suggest we focus our refuge and resources on the inner quest for realization through wisdom and compassion practices, as well as truly enjoying our fleeting human birthright of being alive, here and now, on this beautiful planet. Writer Yeshe Dronme, living in rural British Columbia, describes the simple, deep pleasures in which she can no longer engage, to stoke in us readers a deep appreciation for this precious fleeting human life:

kayaking on a still lake, feeling the water pull and ripple against the paddle, receiving the gifts of loons, turtles, water lilies, eagles, moose, king fishers, tadpoles, and minnows, wandering in the woods, soft earth beneath my feet, discovering ant hills, dogwood, a patch of stinging nettles, wild strawberries, saskatoon berries, thimble berries, soapalali, mountain streams, cedar groves, golden aspen leaves decorating pine bows, mossy rocks, majestic junipers and piñons. Digging in the dirt, growing a garden, harvesting treasures from the earth.

Savoring this life through meditation, offering, and full creative expression, we safeguard our three original navigational tools: the map, compass, and key to the treasure, toward which only our seeking human heart and mind can guide us and those we lead toward awakening.

In the words of Jamyang Khyentse Chökyi Lodrö , in a Song Recalling the Omniscient King of Dharma, incomparable Longchen Rabjampa:

Inspire me to cultivate again and again supreme bodhicitta,
The sole heart-treasure of the Mahāyāna path,
To work tirelessly in the service of beings,
And, as in the liberating lives of the bodhisattvas of the Three Families,
To become a source of infinite benefit to others. (Lotsawa House)

References

Unno, Taitetsu. 1984. Tannishō: A Shin Buddhist Classic. Honolulu: Buddhist Study Center Press.

See more

A List of What is Missed and Not Missed (Substack)
Song Recalling Omniscient Longchenpa (Lotsawa House)

Related features from BDG

The Role of Mindfulness of the Breath in Meditation Traditions
Insight Dialogue: Bringing Meditation into the Heart of Human Connection
Why Do We Practice Meditation? 
Relying on a Guiding Principle for Our Path of Meditation
Seven Steps of Breath Meditation

More from Creativity and Contemplation by Sarah C. Beasley