The un-trashing of Brad Warner

If you meet the Buddha in a hipster bar/cafe do you threaten to punch him in the gut?

When I was a wee gal, I remember a friend started the self-titled ‘Trisha Murray School of Boy Kicking’ and asked me if I’d join. She cultivated some fine techniques through the use of a delicate toe tap encased in a brown mary-jane sandal and wanted to bring me along for her journey to rid the schoolyard of creepy, cootie-laden manchilds (or at least the future spawn of that generation of manchilds) . I can’t quite remember if I joined her troupe of merry nut-kickers or if I was more interested in raiding my rock and roll addicted aunt’s closet and listen to her stories of dating not-so pro wrestlers from the local circuit.

Something tells me I chose the latter option, despite how fun and glamorous starting a career as a  juvenile nad kicker sounded at the time.

Well all this being said, a few nights ago I went to see Brad Warner speak during his visit to Montreal. Not to go all “Teen Beat” in discussing the punk rock Buddhaboys; their outfits, hairstyles, tattoos, boyish mannerisms and so on, but I always had more of an affinity for Noah Levine. His writing and teachings resonated with me because the reflected so much gentleness, peace and compassion. With Brad’s writings, I was always left hostile, dismissive and kinda felt like he was really a slack Buddhist who didn’t take the responsibility of being a Zen teacher to heart but looked to provoke the shit out of people.

And this shit provoking is the reason why I am “un-trashing” Brad Warner.

*For the record, I never really trashed him ** much**  in the first place…

When I first started practicing Buddhism, I followed the Shambhala tradition, left by renegade the original Crazy Wisdom Gangster Chogyam Trungpa Rinpoche. I appriciated his approach which was so fresh to me. I wasn’t up for being spoon-fed dharma that tasted sugar sweet. I appreciated the medicine. I appreciated sitting and questioning the behaviours and motivations of all people, including teachers and the sangha, however, goodness knows I never really questioned my own behaviours and motivations enough.

Brad’s honesty in his most recent book is remarkable as throughout it, he fully exposes himself, warts and all. In his talk, he said that it was nontraditional as far as a speaking tour for a book considering he was embarrassed to read most of what he had written, considering he trashes himself throughout it. Drug use, marital infidelity, death - all subjects usually taboo or at least avoided in the majority of today’s Buddhist bookshelves, are all covered in his story. What used to annoy me about this porno Buddhist, now makes me admire his honest admissions. Anyone who can answer questions from the audience about whether Buddhists can whack off, is OK by my substandard standards.

I spoke with Brad after the talk and may have frightened him by saying that after reading his books, Suicide Girl articles and blog posts, I often either felt like either punching him or hugging him.(Hey! It’s better than kicking him)

Reading Brad’s writing has helped me so much in my personal practice as it’s helped me to work with my dualistic labels and judging mind. Realizing that teachers are human and no different than us non-realized beings has helped me to loosen up and be less of a fan-girl when relating to folks a bit further on the path than I am or in possession of a robe that they feel has no more street cred than a Misfits tshirt.

What does this have to do with ‘Trisha Murray’s School of Boy Kicking”? Well if I did kick any boys back then, I apologize. I think my trigger foot was motivated out of fear and a lack of understanding more so than out of anger.

Today I’m more apt to start the “TanMcG Hugging School” and have ‘kicked the habit’ of being the hateful kicker I used to be. I guess that’s one of the results of walking the path.

We all put our pants on one kicking foot at a time. Me, Brad, Trisha Murray.