Simply Buddhism

Being an atheist for more than thirty years makes my move into Buddhism feel awkward from time to time. Not because I now believe in any gods, I don’t. Technically speaking, I am still very much an atheist, but I am also now a Buddhist.

At first, this led me to call myself a Secular Buddhist. I read books by people associated with secular Buddhism, such as Stephen Batchelor and Noah Rasheta. But I also read books by religious Buddhists, including Thich Nhat Hanh, Mingyur Rinpoche, the 14th Dalai Lama, and others.

What I found interesting was that I would not necessarily describe these more religious authors and monks as “non-secular.” Their thinking is often quite secular in practice. They do not advocate for a Buddhist theocracy, and they are not generally interested in running around converting people to Buddhism. The Dalai Lama has said that his religion is kindness.

For the most part, the main difference between my beliefs and theirs comes down to certain cosmological claims in Buddhism, particularly karma and rebirth. These are not the only differences, but they are the most obvious ones.

This got me thinking about why I add a qualifier to my Buddhism.

In Tibetan Buddhism, the Dalai Lama is understood to be the rebirth of the bodhisattva Avalokiteshvara, or Guan Yin. Not all Buddhists accept that claim, and some simply regard the Dalai Lama as a great monk and teacher. Yet those Buddhists do not have a separate word they use to distance themselves from Tibetan Buddhism. Thich Nhat Hanh called himself a Buddhist and moved on. He did not need to qualify his beliefs to make sure everyone understood that he belonged to a different lineage or tradition than the Dalai Lama. That distinction could come up later in conversation, but it did not need to precede his identity.

So why did I feel the need to qualify mine?

At first, I think it was because I wanted to distance myself from certain cosmological claims. If I, the strident atheist who has spoken at atheist conferences and written two books about non-belief, now said I was a Buddhist, people might assume I had suddenly begun believing in things I did not believe.

Then I realized this was also about ego.

The truth is, I do not know whether karma and rebirth are real. Based on what I know about the natural world and the evidence I have personally encountered, I do not think they are likely to be. But I do not know for certain, and I am not especially troubled by that uncertainty. I would not live my life differently if they turned out to be true, and my worldview already aligns with much of the ethical practice of Buddhism.

When I look at the five precepts, to refrain from killing, stealing, sexual misconduct, false speech, and intoxicants that cloud the mind, I find that I am already broadly aligned with them. When I look at the six paramitas, generosity, ethical conduct, patience, diligence, meditation, and wisdom, I see the same.

If karma and rebirth are real, then I am practicing in a way that is consistent with them. If they are not real, then I have gained the opportunity to live a good life, develop greater wisdom, and try to help others.

So if these beliefs are not weighing on me, and I am indifferent to them to some degree, why do I care so much about creating distance from them? Why am I qualifying my Buddhism?

I think the answer is that I was still trying to control how other people understood me. I wanted to say, “I am a Buddhist, but not that kind of Buddhist.” The qualifier was meant to protect my identity—to make sure that my naturalism and skepticism remained visible even as I adopted a Buddhist practice.

But perhaps they do not need protecting.

Does not accepting certain Buddhist cosmological claims make me less of a Buddhist? I do not believe it does. Buddhism has always contained different traditions, interpretations, and degrees of belief. More importantly, I am not practicing Buddhism as a request for approval. I am practicing because its ethical teachings, contemplative practices, and ways of understanding suffering are meaningful to me.

This does not mean I have abandoned secularism or skepticism. I still believe in secular governments, schools, and public institutions. I still think that claims about the natural world should be examined through evidence and reason. But secularism describes my approach to public life, while Buddhism describes a spiritual and ethical practice that has become important to me. They are not competing identities.

Naturalist Buddhism may be a more precise term for my position, but precision is not always the same thing as clarity. Sometimes a qualifier explains something. Other times, it creates distance where none is necessary.

So I am no longer qualifying my beliefs. I am moving away from saying, when asked, that I am a Secular Buddhist. I am simply a Buddhist.

If someone wants to know what I believe about karma, rebirth, or Buddhist cosmology, I am happy to explain. But I no longer feel the need to offer those explanations before anyone has asked.

I can be an atheist and a Buddhist. I can be skeptical and still practice. I can remain committed to reason without needing to keep Buddhism at arm’s length. Perhaps letting go of the qualifier is not a claim that I have resolved every question. Maybe it is simply a willingness to stop making uncertainty the center of my identity.