Sexual Evolution
Dharma Life Summer 1998
In 28 years as a Buddhist, Dhammadinna has seen or done it all. She recalls experiments in the Friends of the Western Buddhist Order around sex, celibacy and lifestyle and discusses how its collective experience has matured
In the late Sixties I lived in a large commune of ten adults and four children. Some friends lived in a much looser commune where people didn′t even have a room of their own, but changed rooms and partners on a nightly basis. The Sixties was a time of both genuine idealism and great naivety. Some of us believed, at least for a while, that anything was possible and that we could change ourselves and the world through love.
This was the era of free love, jazz, poetry and drugs; the development of humanistic psychology and the cult of free expression; the re-emergence of the women′s movement and the advent of gay pride; the greater availability of birth control, especially the pill; and, from a background culture of drugs, the explosion of LSD to a wider public. It was a time of exploration and experimentation in many areas of life — political, philosophical, mystical and religious, psychological, artistic, musical, social, chemical and not least sexual.
Sexual liberation meant hedonistic, guilt-free sex: heterosexual, homosexual and bisexual, with one or a number of partners. From both humanistic psychology and drug experimentation came attitudes such as ′letting it all hang out′, ′going with the flow′ and ′if you feel like doing it, do it′. The positive side of this was a willingness to explore and experiment, taking nothing for granted. There was also a darker side induced by confusion, bad trips and sometimes descent into addiction, alienation and despair.
When Sangharakshita returned to England in the early Sixties, after 20 years in India as a Buddhist monk, it was with people from this counter culture that he found himself working. As the incumbent at the Hampstead Buddhist Vihara, he encountered a much more respectable section of society. But increasingly, the people he taught came from the ′counter-culture′, and their energy and radicalism seemed to offer a basis for engagement with the transformative teachings of Buddhism.
In 1967 Sangharakshita founded the Friends of the Western Buddhist Order (FWBO) with the aim of developing ways of practising Buddhism that were appropriate in the modern world. From these beginnings a Buddhist movement developed. During the 1960s and Seventies, the numbers involved in the FWBO were small. We were a ′circle of friends′ attempting to put our ideals into practice and develop a new society based on Buddhist principles. Many of us were young and were willing to question and challenge all areas of life.
But times have changed, and some of the things we did in the past have given rise to controversy. Perhaps it is time to take stock; to look back on those early experiments, and consider what was learnt and what has been left behind. This means understanding the attitudes and activities of previous decades in the context of their time. We should be aware of the tendency to see the past through the eyes of the present: a time affected by Aids and by discussion of sexual abuse, as well as by political correctness and gender politics.
When I first encountered the FWBO in 1970 I was 24 and a hippy. I was in an ′open marriage′ and, although I had personal sexual difficulties, I subscribed to the ethos that sex was a form of communication and it was open to each person to decide what they wanted to do. In my commune people had changed or shared partners, and I was not prejudiced about homosexuality or lesbianism, having friends of both persuasions.
In the FWBO people were of differing ages but many were young like myself and shared my ideas. When I first met Sangharakshita, he cut an unusual figure. He was dressed in orange robes, but had long hair and wore a Tibetan mala. He was also friendly and informal, although with an obvious air of spiritual authority and wisdom. Early retreats could be quite wild with people dancing and drumming on the lawns, engaging in drama or dream groups, forming and leaving relationships, as well as engaging in serious spiritual practice.
Sangharakshita initially gave us a great deal of leeway, affirming our enthusiastic search for Truth, but he also knew when to begin to demand more. On the summer retreat of 1972 he introduced triple periods of meditation, long periods of silence, and an emphasis on mindfulness and reflection. After this retreat many of us decided to take our spiritual lives more seriously and formed the first residential communities around Pundarika, our centre in north London. And in 1973 I was ordained into the Western Buddhist Order.
Early in my involvement I wanted to go away and meditate for a few days and I chose a Tibetan Buddhist centre. The people there were friendly but referred to rumours concerning Sangharakshita and sex. I was not at all bothered; it didn′t occur to me to check with Sangharakshita whether they were true. I had made a spiritual connection with Sangharakshita, and through him with Buddhism. He had befriended and guided me. I knew he wore robes for ceremonial reasons but less and less so otherwise.
I did not think of Sangharakshita as a traditional bhikkhu, and at that time I wasn′t particularly interested in traditional forms of Buddhism. I trusted him. I had always found him willing to talk to me about all aspects of my life. He was sympathetic and helpful to me when my marriage broke up, encouraging when I practised celibacy, and understanding when I gave it up.
As our practice deepened my contemporaries and I in the wbo began to see that sex could cause a lot of confusion and be a distraction from Buddhist practice. Moreover we were beginning to realise that the romantic ideal � so prevalent in our western conditioning � could lead to dependency, and work against the development of friendships and a harmonious sangha (spiritual community). Reflections such as these led to the establishment of single-sex activities. This began with retreats for men and for women, but developed into the establishment of single-sex communities and ′Right Livelihood′ working projects. By the mid-Eighties we came to feel that single-sex activities in all areas of practice were most conducive to spiritual growth.
Our decisions to practise within these single-sex situations and to question our sexual involvements and attitudes arose out of a desire to break our dependency on the opposite sex. This kind of exploration, however, was specific to the West; it arose from the need we felt to discover which lifestyles were most helpful at a time when conventions were being challenged. It wouldn′t be appropriate in a more traditional society, where it might be unacceptable and undermine social stability.
My open marriage had ended amicably in 1972. Through forming other friendships and meditating I had realised how dependent I was on my partner, and I wanted to be more independent. I embarked on further relationships but soon became aware that I still had a tendency to emotional dependence. I wanted to experience myself single and alone, responsible for myself, with the time and energy to devote to my friendships and my spiritual practice. I also suffered from sexual guilt and I wanted some time free from that sort of conflict.
For me, moving to a single-sex lifestyle went along with giving up sex. For others it meant engaging in same-sex sex. Some people did this for a while, perhaps realising they were more bisexual than they had thought, while others discovered their true orientation was towards their own gender. Other people remained heterosexual, and still others became celibate. We were trying to break taboos, perhaps derived from Christian and social attitudes to sex, which sometimes resulted in irrational guilt. Some people began to speculate that homosexuality might be in some way more ′spiritual′ than heterosexuality, because it was less likely to lead to domesticity and settling down. We also discussed whether spiritual friendship and sexual involvement could go together.
To what extent did these ideas derive from Sangharakshita? In assessing this I have looked back at transcripts of the seminars he led between the mid-Seventies and mid-Eighties. These were intensive and intimate retreats when Sangharakshita led the participants through a Buddhist text, discussing its meaning and its relevance to our spiritual lives. Seminars also provided an opportunity to discuss anything of interest to us. Sexual relationships, sexual orientation, gender, friendship, community life, and lifestyle were all crucial issues as we set up our new Buddhist movement. They were discussed openly and frankly.
These transcripts show how careful was Sangharakshita′s thinking. In one discussion he was asked if he thought homosexuality was more ′spiritual′ than heterosexuality. He commented that we had to consult our own experience and be honest, and he was not sure that there was less psychological projection in homosexuality. However, he suggested, men often fear expressing their feelings for each other in case they are seen as sexual, and this fear can lead to a general emotional repression. He thought that a man having strong feelings towards another man, even if those feelings are tinged with sexual attraction, need not mean he is homosexual. Sangharakshita concluded that spiritually speaking there is probably not much difference between heterosexual and homosexual relationships, and that we must be equally mindful in either. What is important, he said, is that we cultivate friendship, which will help us to leave sex behind.
In 1981 experimentation took another direction at one FWBO centre where a number of people decided to engage in friendly heterosexual sex outside committed relationships � in other words, promiscuity. This experiment involved very few people, did not last long, and soon people returned to being single, or celibate, or in settled relationships. Perhaps in response, Sangharakshita gave a talk in 1982 on the virtue of fidelity. The lecture covered fidelity to oneself, to ideals and to other people. Under fidelity to others came the question of sexual fidelity and Sangharakshita outlined three possible modes: monogamy, promiscuity and celibacy. Each, he suggested, has a healthy form and a neurotic form. By promiscuity he meant non-continuity of sexual partners, in other words serial monogamy. He warned that people should be alive to the difficulties of each approach, and seek to avoid the dangers of neurotic attachment, distraction and so on.
Sangharakshita has always encouraged celibacy. He has stressed that people with a natural desire to be chaste should not be encouraged into sexual relationships by others who might think this more normal. He has also urged his disciples, as they get older, to start thinking of moving towards chastity. In an interview in Golden Drum magazine on ′Sex and the Spiritual Life′ (autumn 1987), Sangharakshita discussed the powerful, sometimes destructive nature of the sexual drive and the need for those on a spiritual path to invest less emotional energy in sexual relationships.
He also expressed pleasure that more people were taking the Anagarika precept, which enjoins chastity. He never urges anyone to take this precept and Order members need not be celibate. One is only asked to keep one’s sex life at the periphery, or towards the periphery. But if one can be celibate �in a positive and healthy way, I’m sure that will enable one � other factors being equal � to develop spiritually more rapidly.
During the late 1980s and early ′90s more men and women Order members took the Anagarika precept. Becoming an Anagarika does not constitute a higher ordination but it involves the precept of abstention from sexual activity (abrahmacarya). Some Anagarikas have maintained this precept while others have ceased to be chaste and reverted to their previous status. It seems that being celibate is not easy in the West, as the culture that surrounds us is so concerned with sex.
Sangharakshita maintains, however, that the extent to which we are caught up in sexual activity and craving is a matter of degree. In this sense we are all celibate or non-celibate to some extent, and he said that he would like to see everyone in the FWBO progressively moving away from sexual craving, and becoming ′more and more celibate every day′.
These then were the attitudes and examples that informed my own approach to sex. When I decided to end my sexual relationship and give up sex, I initially saw this as a matter of taking ′time out′, and the first couple of years were helpful. But as time passed I came to think sex was bad and unspiritual and that I should give it up for good. To do otherwise would have been to ′fall back′. But I had not taken a vow, so in reality I was free to choose whether or not to begin another sexual relationship. This became painful and confusing when I started to experience sexual desire again, but it was also illuminating as I began to understand the extent of my irrational sexual guilt.
Sangharakshita was understanding. He said it was important with any decision to keep the initiative and that perhaps I had lost touch with my reasons for choosing celibacy. Some time later I started a sexual relationship. Over the years I have had a number of sexual relationships, interspersed with sometimes quite long periods of being single. The periods when I was able to be alone and still feel contented and happy have been important to me and helped my relationships to become less neurotic. At the moment I am single and happy with this state.
These days the FWBO is much larger: at first the whole Order could sit in one room and discuss its future in terms of principle and practice. It is harder to see what sexual attitudes in the FWBO currently are, except that they′re varied. The average age of Order members has risen steadily, many of us have been practising for many years. We also attract more people with families, which has raised further issues. The emphasis on single-sex activities, community living and team-based Right Livelihood work has sometimes led people with families to feel marginalised.
This is an area of continuing discussion but recent years have seen many more family groups around FWBO centres. There is a creative tension in this area. On one hand we emphasise renunciation and ′going forth′ from worldly life (with the institutions of the FWBO offering a practical means of doing this). On the other hand people with families are being supported to find ways of deepening their Buddhist practice. And this is happening more and more.
I find it is now much easier to work with this tension. When I was a young Order member trying to set up communities and projects with few resources, I was sometimes alarmed if a team-member expressed a desire to have a baby. I could imagine the whole project collapsing. Now I find my greater life experience and maturity enable me to discuss such issues much more openly than in the past, and I can understand the experience of people with families much better.
Although there is now an undoubted ability to address such matters in the Order, sex and sexuality will continue to be an issue for a community that is neither lay nor monastic. In the FWBO there has always been discussion of sexual ethics � both in general terms and on specific issues. One key area is sexual relationships between Order members and the people they teach. Are these relationships exploitative? Can sex and spiritual friendship ever go together, or are they mutually exclusive?
Some people wonder if such relationships need to be governed by rules. But this would fail to express the spirit in which we approach ethical practice: we seek to understand the underlying principle expressed in the Buddhist ethical precepts, rather than proscribing particular actions. Furthermore in a Buddhist movement of the size and diversity of the FWBO � which is active in cultures as different as the modern us, India and South America � any attempt to dictate norms of behaviour could become enormously complex.
It is a mistake to regard an Order member in the same way as a therapist or a priest. An Order member is simply an individual who has made a decisive commitment to Buddhism, and who may express this by leading classes and retreats. However, people coming to learn will have expectations; and if sex is in the mix, it can be confusing. So this area needs careful scrutiny and discussion.
Personally I am convinced that the FWBO′s exploratory approach to issues of sex and sexual relationships has been hugely helpful to me and my contemporaries. I have been involved in the FWBO for 28 years and have grown up within it. I have been both instrumental in and affected by its developing ethos. The FWBO′s emphasis on spiritual friendship, going beyond emotional dependency, trying to make sexual relationships less central to one′s life, thinking about ethics, and working towards celibacy have all had their effect on me
I have been married, single, celibate, engaged in ′serial monogamy′ and in periods of non-monogamy. I have tried to behave ethically and when I have failed I′ve tried to make amends. I have felt able to be open with my friends about sex and they have been honest with me. By working through strong feelings of irrational guilt about sex and Buddhist practice, I have freed up a great deal of energy. I certainly do not think everyone in the FWBO needs to experiment sexually. But I hope people feel they can be honest about who they are without incurring condemnation.
Particularly in the West, where there are so many options, we need to examine our sex-lives and make choices in accordance with our overall spiritual direction. As a result of our early explorations, we now have thriving single-sex teams and communities, which provide good conditions for serious Dharma practice. We have slowly � sometimes painfully � developed the maturity that enables people to discover their own path, and the lifestyle that best helps them to practise the Buddha′s teaching.