A few weeks ago, I had a dream that is
still on my mind: I dreamt I was breast-feeding a ferret. I felt self-conscious
about this activity – I was in a public space, and didn’t feel comfortable
about baring my breast. Then I realized that I could put the ferret under my
t-shirt and feed it that way. This seemed a good solution, and I felt very
happy and loving towards the little animal, even though it nipped me from time
to time. However, the ferret wasn’t satisfied with breast-milk; it soon got
away from me, managed to break into a container holding some kind of grain, and
ate the lot. By now, its little belly was very round. I was concerned that it
had eaten too much, and very surprised that it had managed to get into the sealed
container. I realized it would be very difficult to keep it out of anything. I
woke up worrying about this.
In dream interpretation, ferrets have two
apparently divergent meanings: they represent suspicion toward someone, or
stand for qualities of cleverness, resourcefulness and playfulness. But perhaps
these meanings are not divergent after all: a person’s cleverness might itself
be a cause for wariness, if you don’t know if you can trust them. What is their
agenda? Whatever it is, it seems likely that they will find the resources to
get what they want, and that less worldly forms of intelligence may be no match
for them. The playfulness that makes them so attractive, even adorable, might
also serve to distract you from their true intentions, to charm you while with
astonishing skill, they break into your precious store of grain. It’s hard to
tell if they share your own moral code, or even if they have a moral code.
Their strength is their flexibility, their ability to adapt to circumstances,
seize opportunities as they arise, and deflect problems with a playful twist of
their lithe, but muscular forms: this is the Way of the Ferret.
Some of the ferret’s qualities are typically
Buddhist: being ‘in the moment,’ open and responsive to change, flexible and
playful. Even its lack of any clear agenda or fixed moral code fits with at
least some forms of Buddhism: Zen, in particular, emphasizes the importance of
not being attached to views, and suggests, with its entertaining stories of idiosyncratic
monks, that enlightened individuals transcend the bounds of conventional
morality.
And yet it doesn’t seem quite right to
equate the Way of the Buddha with the Way of the Ferret.
For a start, my dream-ferret was pretty
greedy. It hadn’t given up craving or sensual pleasure; nor did it appear to be
pursuing a “middle path.” My fear, at least, was that it would consume anything
it could get its paws on, which might be anything and everything.
Also, in spite of their resourcefulness,
ferrets are vulnerable animals. I’m told they make good pets, affectionate and
playful, but it’s important to keep them inside: if they escape they rarely
survive.
Sometimes I think that in the West we try
to turn the Way of the Buddha into the Way of the Ferret. We want the benefits
of meditation and mindfulness practice, but we’re not so keen on giving up on
craving. Instead, we see these practices as resources, clever forms of play
that can help us reach our goals, solve our problems, get what we want and
avoid what we don’t want. We’re attracted by the idea that there is a way to
the end of suffering, but we aren’t so receptive to the idea that this way
requires the eradication of craving, the realization of no self: no ‘me,’ no
‘mine.’ Even at our most resourceful, our most ‘mindful,’ we remain greedy and vulnerable
animals.
I’ve been thinking about this in relation
to the way Western psychology has taken up ‘mindfulness’ as a technique to
treat depression and anxiety. In most cases, meditational methods are lifted
out of the ethical context and the belief system within which they are taught
in Buddhism, and treated as secular tools for working with the mind, techniques
that have no particular ethical framework or philosophical implications.
There’s mounting clinical evidence that these techniques work: they do help to
treat these problems. But, taken up in this selective way, do they lead toward
enlightenment, or merely help to create more functional ferrets?
Or is this a false dichotomy? Maybe I
should have more faith in the ferret – and in mindfulness practice as it is
taken up in Western psychology. Perhaps all a breast-feeding ferret needs to reveal
itself as a baby Buddha is a clear mental environment infused with patience, kindness
and understanding. If mindfulness practice in therapeutic contexts can help to
cultivate this kind of mind, then there may be no problem with lifting it out
of its ethical and philosophical context in Buddhism and treating it as a
secular practice. After all, the West does have its own ethical frameworks and
wisdom traditions to provide alternative contexts, which may run deeper in our
psyches.
Maybe, perhaps… I think I’ll have to ferret
around a bit more to find out for sure.
 |
| Vinnie the ferret in a war dance jump |
