The following was originally written for the blog of my sangha. I highly recommend the other posts found there.
Now that we’ve entered 2024, the year of the Dragon, we would be wise to remember the story of Sekkō. He was a man who loved dragons. Paintings, figurines, ornaments — his whole house was filled with dragons in various forms. One day a real dragon happened to hear about Sekkō and figured that since he loved dragons so much, surely he would be delighted to meet a real one. But when the dragon stuck his head through the window of Sekkō’s room, Sekkō died of fright on the spot!
In this story the dragon represents reality, Sekkō symbolizes preferring imitation to the real thing. Traditionally, the message of this story is not to cling to theoretical Zen practice and run away when the opportunity of real practice presents itself, such as in the presence of suffering or dissatisfaction. This is a very important lesson, but maybe we should also consider the other dragon that is standing at our doorstep.
For as long as I can remember, popular media has depicted imaginary scenarios of the apocalypse or of a post-apocalyptic world. Films and literature depicting the end of the world, caused by nuclear war or huge asteroids plummeting toward Earth (often right over the White House for some reason). Or films about what happens afterwards – the post-apocalypse. A dystopian future ruled by authoritarian mega-corporations, in a neon-lit world of skyscrapers where the sun no longer shines.
At this moment, in 2024, it is more clear than ever that we can no longer run from the dragon. The dragon of war, genocide, famine and complete climate collapse. The dragon of neoliberal tech companies curating the flow of information, monitoring and controlling how we interact and communicate. The disaster movies of my childhood did not provide any real lessons, we did like Sekkō and dwelled in imitation and imagination. The idea of the apocalypse serves as a stage for our ego and selfishness, where we get to play out the fantasy of rugged individualism over community and interbeing. Now that the actual dragon is looking us dead in the eye, we shake in terror.
However, the dragon is not an evil abomination that befalls us as innocent people. The dragon represents what we know to be true but don’t want to face. What we prefer to keep at a safe distance even though we know it’s coming. The terrifying reality of truly understanding cause and effect.
A true bodhisattva lives side by side with the dragons, for there is no separation between us and them. The illusion of separation operates in the same way at the individual level as it does throughout human civilization. The human project is an expression of the collective perceptions we carry with us. This is why the Buddhist teachings are equally applicable to you, as your family as a group, as the city you live in and ultimately humanity as a species.
But facing the dragon is hard. Maybe thats why certain people within the world of tech would rather focus on the existential threat of AI. The idea of a future “evil” AI is a kind of technocratic wet dream, because it’s a cool sci-fi threat that can only be solved via capital and more and better technology. A practical way to keep neoliberal capitalism intact. It’s also a practical way to push away the uncool but far more urgent and real existential threats, like the climate crisis and actual ongoing conflicts that claim thousands of innocent lives.
Once upon a time, the collapse of the natural world and the idea of a high tech dystopia were also a cool sci-fi threat that you could comfortably reflect on as entertainment, since it was probably so far away in the future we would all be dead before then anyway. But that is simply not the case anymore. And that kind of unskillful thinking has put us all in a very difficult position.
I would guess that most children and teenagers on Earth can imagine a wide range of different doomsday scenarios, from zombie apocalypses to deadly viruses, evil robots and invading aliens – because we have been bombarded with this type of media for more than 70 years. But sadly, not as many young people can imagine a future when everything doesn’t go to hell. What does this say about the likelihood that future generations can, with the help of imagination and inventiveness, deal with the problems facing the earth?
The bodhisattva vow is taken in order to help all sentient beings – including those of the future. In the face of great crisis, we will have to look for alternatives to existing policies, rules and systems. When this happens, we need to have options that are compassionate. What we do here and now affects what alternatives future generations will find they have to choose between.
We must learn from the story of Sekkō. We must face the dragon, because it is here, and it is us. In Opening the Hand of Thought, Kosho Uchiyama writes “When you meet a real “dragon” you should be filled with joy and resolve to wrestle with it.” — We must deepen our practice and extend it outside ourselves. The ability to imagine a future in harmony and balance is absolutely necessary if we are ever to have a chance of achieving it.
We must ask; When has there ever been a better time to follow the path than now, in this moment, in the midst of great uncertainty?
When fear seems overwhelming
I vow with all beings
to walk through this ancient valley
breathing Mu right to the end.
Robert Aitken - The Dragon Who Never Sleeps: Verses for Zen Buddhist Practice