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Worry Beads
Clark Strand traces the history of malas and how this ancient practice brings peace.
We are not called upon as Buddhists to deny the world, and certainly not to escape from it. We are called to live with it, and to make our peace with all that is. In Buddhist terms, that peace is called Tathagata. The Thus Come One is enlightened as he is, not as he would wish himself to be. There is no escaping this. The world of worries we wish to escape from in the beginning of Buddhist practice is found to be enlightenment itself in the end. We don't understand this, of course, and so we keep striving for a distant, idealized kind of Buddhahood, only to reach its threshold and be turned back the way we came. In this way, we receive the teaching of the Buddha with every mala we say. 
That is what the beads have taught me. Now, after many years of handling them, taking in their teachings through the palm of my hand, I am occasionally able to recognize a little of that teaching when I see it manifested in others. There is the Tibetan mother of a friend of mine, dispossessed of her homeland, happily walking through the town where I live, an enormous goiter swelling above the neckline of her traditional dress. She fingers her beads continuously, smiling all the while. She speaks little English, but as I witness her reach the end of her mala and happily twist it about in her hand to finger its beads back the other way, I see that she is at peace in the world, as though she had actually spoken the words aloud. Buddha. Dharma. Sangha. The teachings are all there. She carries them. And when she isn't carrying them, she wears them on her sleeve.
Saying the Nembutsu:
NEMBUTSU LITERALLY MEANS "to think of Buddha," and is based on the teaching that "when you are mindful of the Buddha, the Buddha is mindful of you." The principal practice of Pure Land Buddhism, nembutsu originally referred to a complex series of practices leading up to a vision of Amida Buddha in his Western Paradise. But many centuries ago it came to mean just what it does today: simple recitation of the words Namu Amida Butsu, "I take refuge in Amida, the Buddha of Infinite Light and Life."
Reciting the nembutsu sets the minds of those who practice it directly in the presence of Amida Buddha, with no intermediary whatsoever. Therefore, it can be taken up by anyone, anywhere, at any time—whether they have received instruction in that practice from a Pure Land teacher or not.
Honen, the founder of the Pure Land school, taught: "The way to say the nembutsu lies in having no way." In other words, any way of saying the nembutsu is fine. You may say it very fast or very slowly, use its traditional six-syllable form, Na-Mu-A-Mi-Da-Bu, or abbreviate it down to Na-Man-Da-Bu, as many Japanese people do; it makes no difference at all. In saying the nembutsu we rely on Amida's Vow to save all beings who simply call upon his name. To be too concerned with such matters as rhythm or pronunciation takes our minds off of the Buddha. And so it is best not to worry. Amida will hear us wherever we are, in whatever condition we find ourselves, and however we say his name.
In reciting the nembutsu, some traditions stress the use of malas, also called juzu ("counting beads"), to keep track of their recitations, while others do not. For those who wish to use a juzu, one simply recites the nembutsu once for every bead, turning about at the guru bead to going back in the other direction, repeating this cycle as often as possible. Pure Land practitioners who favor a simple, heartfelt recitation still use malas, only they refer to them as nenju ("thought beads"), to indicate that they are not to be used for counting. In such cases, they simply place their hands together in gassho, with the beads encircling both palms, and chant. Placing our hands together in gassho is the basic attitude of devotion in the Pure Land school. The left hand joins the right, palm to palm, and in this way, symbolically speaking, our deluded selves are joined with Amida. When we place our hands together in this way, we find that they match up perfectly. For each finger of the left hand, there is a finger of the right to embrace it. The match is perfect. Nothing is left out.
This is a beautiful description of the way worried beings are saved by Amida. For every moment of delusion, every act of greed, folly, or confusion, there is Amida right beside us, embracing us as we are. If it were necessary to change first in order to be worthy of birth in the Pure Land, few of us could attain it. Fortunately, all that is required is that we unite with the Tathagata. When we join the palms together in this way in an expression of simple faith and utter the words Namu-Amida-Butsu, and whether we count our beads or not, all is taken care of. Amida embraces us on the spot.
Contributing editor Clark Strand is the author of How to Believe in God, Forthcoming from Morgan Road Books.
Images ©Tri Luu
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A few years ago, my wife and I started making jewelry, mostly things like bracelets, necklaces and earrings. We used semi-precious stones, wooden beads, and seed-type beads, strung on cord or special wire. Raised a Christian, but now following (trying!) the Buddhist path, I decided to attempt a Catholic Rosary, using metal links. I found it a wonderful task, because part of the process is to work with focused good intention. Never satisfied with doing things halfway, I learned all I could about the rosary, including how to say the prayers while meditating on the Mysteries. I went from there to making Malas of all different types, using a couple of purchased ones as models. Typically of 108 beads, and one Guru bead, I also made them in 54 and 27 bead varieties, which require reversing more often, and make the repetitions harder to count, but offer the advantage of smaller size. The one I carry with me is a 27-bead version, using 8mm Bethlehem Olive wood beads, and a 10mm Guru bead. It is always in my pocket, and when I find myself with "waste time", like waiting on line or stuck in traffic, I do silent mantras, keeping the Mala in my pocket. It is also great for walking meditations. Making the Malas is the most fulfilling part, placing each bead with Metta and then tying the knot to lock it in place, leaving just a little "wiggle room" for each bead. The techniques are easy to learn, fun to do, and have the advantage of providing wonderful gifts for friends and family. I donated a bunch to a local Rehab & Nursing home, and they were received with gratitude. A good friend who is Catholic also hikes the Appalachian trail. I made him a special 10-bead Rosary with hand-carved cross out of feather-light materials, and he carries it with him on his sojourns. You can spread a lot of bliss with this hobby.
For a good recreative meditation, making your own Malas with focused Right Intention is hard to beat. The raw materials can be had at local craft outlets, or online at Rosary shops. GIve it a try, you may be surprised at how it expands your scope of "Buddha, Dharma, Sangha".
I enjoyed reading the history of the mala beads. I've learned some new info and will not cross the guru bead, but instead, will turn back and make my way back in the opposite direction. Thank you, Clark, for the wonderfully written history of mala beads.
Namaste
I loved this Clark, many thanks. I have found something about physicially turning the beads in one's hands brings the body into the practice, makes it less a project and more an easing, a comfort, a calling. Your article puts it very well. I hadn't heard of the about-turn at the Guru-bead, which I like very much and will henceforth adopt.
Since discovering the nembutsu approach, I still use my mala to count on, but if it serves any practical purpose at all it is as a sort of timekeeper...maybe 2 or 3 malas this morning, etc. I have a close friend who is counting out 1m manis, which I in no way cock a snook at in saying we have a running joke that I have, some time back, just lost count.
Namo Amida Bu
Mat
In all, I've been compelled to purchase 4 sets of mala beads. I gave away one set and will give away one more set. I feel most attached to the first set made of rose wood and this last set made of yak bones--all white and organic and reminiscent of that yak--was it a poor sad yak, or a long-lived happy yak? [Yakkity-yak-don't-talk-back, as the song repeats in my head.] I love to wear these yak beads and did so during my last meditation retreat. Until reading this article, I was feeling a bit silly, maybe pretentious in just wanting them close to me; in my hands. So now I don't. thanks!