Buddha in Auschwitz
by Perry Garfinkel, The Jewish Journal, June 23, 2006
Oswiecim, Poland  -- It sounds like the set-up for a politically incorrect 
joke: Did you hear the one about the journalist who began his journey in the 
Buddha's footsteps in Poland?

 
<<  The ensemble depicted here played on orders of their S.S. overseers. New 
arrivals and those who marched out daily to work at Buna and elsewhere served 
as audience (Source: http://www.remember.org/
educate/partiv.html)

The Buddha ("the awakened one") never stepped foot west of what is now India. I 
was on assignment for National Geographic Magazine, supposedly tracing 
Buddhism's history. But what was I doing in Oswiecim, in the southwest corner 
of Poland?

It might make more sense knowing the German name by which Oswiecim is better 
recognized: Auschwitz. If the connection is still not evident, consider the 
first of Buddhism's so-called Four Noble Truths - that the human condition is 
rife with suffering. Then where better (or worse, as the case may be) to stare 
into the face of horrific suffering of a magnitude that numbs the heart and 
paralyzes the brain? Where better, hopefully, to come to terms with it?

I had joined up with a Buddhist group that conducts annual Bearing Witness 
retreats at the Auschwitz-Birkenau concentration and death camps, now a 
memorial museum, as a way to gain a deeper understanding of suffering and one's 
own reaction to it.

My worst nightmare was that just seeing the wooden watch towers, the 
barbed-wire fences and the sadly iconic brick gateway would cause me unbearable 
suffering. I feared sitting cross-legged on those infamous train tracks, 
silently meditating in the Soto Zen Buddhist tradition under a polluted, 
monotonic gray sky.

The nightmare was realized, and then some. But another "truth" slapped me 
harder in the face: the truth of my Polish heritage (my mother's parents were 
born in Poland). Being a Polish American was not something one boasted about 
when I was growing up. For most of my youth I thought "dumb Pollack" was one 
word. It's a fact of my life I rarely acknowledge, but here there was nowhere 
to hide.

It hit hardest in a large chamber the Nazis called the Sauna, where prisoners 
were disinfected. Now the concrete flooring is covered with highly reflective 
tinted glass. Several exhibit walls display salvaged pictures: sepia tones of 
families whose prominent noses and high cheekbones reminded me of my own 
relatives.

We gathered in a semicircle on the glass floor and sat facing a wall of such 
photos. We were each handed a different page with a list of names and 
simultaneously we read from our list.

"Israelevitch, Abraham. Israels, Salomon. Issakowitsch, Alexandre...." I 
naturally fell into a familiar Hebraic rhythm of incantation. One name 
overlapping the next, one voice harmonizing with another, all bouncing off the 
empty walls, a chorus of death.

A bell rang and we sat in silence, but the names still echoed in my ears. In 
the Soto tradition, you sit with eyes open, faced down. My stare landed on a 
reflected photo of a fair-haired woman in her 20s, clutching her two children. 
In her 20s, my mother, too, was a blonde beauty with a strong jaw and a 
distinctive nose, a Meryl Streep look-alike from the film of William Styron's 
"Sophie's Choice." Suddenly it dawned on me: we bear witness not only to those 
who died here but also to those who never got to live, the unborn children and 
those children's unborn children. History may have lost undiscovered medical 
cures, unwritten novels and unscored musical masterpieces, but I lost 
experiences, love, wisdom passed from generation to generation. I had no 
memories upon which to reflect.

Rather than get angrier or go numb, this time I felt an inexplicable release 
from it all. I had reached that path to forgiveness only when, in meditation, I 
was able to separate "me" from me. By staying focused on this moment, I could 
separate two experiences: what happened here and my reaction to what happened 
here. By simply bearing witness, without layering it with my feelings, my 
opinion, my reaction, my judgment, I saw that the Holocaust just happened. No 
blame. No sadness. No guilt. No anger.

That evening I told others on the retreat about my liberation from so many 
hellish thoughts and feelings. I was surprised but relieved that some nodded in 
agreement.

"I feel more alive here than anywhere else," confided Aleksandra, a 24-year-old 
photography student from Wroclaw, Poland. This was her second Bearing Witness 
retreat, she told me.

"How could you feel more alive?" I asked, incredulous. "Surrounded by death at 
every step? How could that be?"

"I don't know," she replied.

And she left it at that.

This answer perplexed and frustrated me. Was this a cop-out? Or was she 
practicing what Buddhists call the "don't-know mind" - that there are things we 
can never understand, that make sense only when we stop trying to understand 
them.

I don't know about the don't-know mind. I do know that I had three choices. One 
was to remain angry and revengeful, which only generates more pain. The second 
was to run and hide from those feelings - impossible! The third was to accept 
them as an incomprehensible part of the life spectrum. In that third way, I, 
too, could "feel more alive."

It was a difficult lesson - for a Jew, for a Pole, for a journalist who thinks 
he needs answers - and I honestly still haven't mastered it. For now, though, I 
assuage my suffering with the Buddha's own words: "Holding on to anger is like 
grasping a hot coal with the intent of throwing it at someone else; you are the 
one who gets burned."

----------------------
Perry Garfinkel will be speaking on July 8 at the Bodhi Tree Bookstore on 
Melrose at 7:30 p.m. and on July 9 at DIESEL in Malibu at 2 p.m. The Bodhi Tree 
Bookstore is located at 8585 Melrose Avenue, West Hollywood, (310)-659-1733. 
DIESEL is located at 3890 Cross Creek Road, Malibu (310) 456-9961.

Perry Garfinkel is the author of "Buddha or Bust: In Search of Truth, Meaning, 
Happiness and the Man Who Found Them All," to be published June 20 by Harmony 
Books, from which this is adapted.



[Non-text portions of this message have been removed]



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