A review of John McQuade and Miriam Hall’s new Miksang photography book
by Curtis Steele
This is a wonderful book, and a daunting one for me to review, because on the one hand it’s very accessible, and on the other it’s profound, bottomless, ungraspable. My experience in trying to write a review has been that it’s like trying to hold very fine, soft sand that’s continually flowing through the spaces between my fingers.
Recently, I was discussing Miksang photography, and I enthusiastically told a friend about my experiences with this book. He then asked to borrow my copy. I wrote back saying, “Unfortunately, you can’t borrow my copy, because it’s on Kindle. That’s the dharmic nature that I encounter with it. I can’t hold it, feel its texture, can’t stick it on the shelf; and if the internet crashes, it disappears and can’t be found. An ephemeral grandmother’s finger pointing at the moon!”
Volume II is a Miksang practitioner’s book, a kind of “pointing-out” instruction. I’ve read it beginning to end completely several times. I go through it sentence by sentence, topic by topic, and feel both ungrounded and enriched. Nothing is totally unfamiliar, but the way it is presented is open and spacious. The dynamic of authors John and Miriam’s working relationship has much to do with this. They’re neither proclaiming their expertise nor setting themselves up as masters, but are deeply committed to exploring Nalanda Miksang at a heart level. That heart is open and empty. It’s similar to hearing a talk by a Shambhala teacher or other Buddhist master, in that it seems extremely clear and lucid in the moment, and when I try to describe what I have learned, I find I can’t put it into words.
As to the structure of the book, it’s well organized and carefully laid out. There are many examples of the authors’ experiences. There are samples of their photographs to demonstrate points they’re making. There are many well-selected citations, quotes, references. There’s little in the book that was unfamiliar. And yet, each time I read the book, I see it in ways I hadn’t “grokked” before. My practice lately in reading the book is much the way I practice photography, in that I start with an open mind, go to something that leaps out at me, and get a fresh take.
I’ve collected and read many books about photography, Miksang and other versions. But in my experience, this book is unique. It’s about finding the Miksang experience in the practitioner.
“Seeing includes insight, discernment, and appreciation. It is not only red—it is hot red, or even fire-engine red. The visual phenomenal world becomes articulated as meaningful. This is the golden key: it is not just connection, it is communion. Communion is a sharing and a blessing. Communion is a transformation of the ordinary world into the ordinary magic world: the sacred world. This is the heart of Nalanda Miksang.”
Here are a few selections from the book:
“To support our contemplation, we can look to Chogram Trungpa’s presentation of nowness in Shambhala, the Sacred Path of the Warrior.
‘To discover nowness , you have to look back, back to where you came from, back to the original state . . . it is looking back into your own mind, to before where history began, before thinking began, before thought ever occurred. When you connect with this original ground, then you are never confused by the illusions of past and future. You are able to rest continually in nowness.’ ”
In a section titled “The Personal Dimension” is the following quote from Dorothea Lange: “The contemplation of things as they are, without error or confusion, without substitution or imposture, is in itself a nobler thing than the whole harvest of invention.”
Further along: “What is truly personal is precisely what cannot be put into words in a general way. Miriam finds, when she teaches Memoir, that the more specific we are about personal experiences, the more others can deeply relate as intimate human beings with one another. . . . Even using words, it is beyond words: we can touch something so simple and personal beyond the images or words, with images or words.”
In conclusion the authors write, “Thank you for joining us on this journey into the Heart of Photography. We would like to close with a dedication of merit, a traditional closing at the end of a practice session, to mark our desire that our practice be of benefit to all beings. This aspiration, to dedicate the benefit of our practice to all beings (ourselves included) lets us acknowledge how powerful even simple practices can be, how much of a change in direction small shifts can begin. This version comes from the Shambhala tradition, our tradition: if you feel connection to it, please consider closing your practice sessions with it. If not, explore other versions, or find your way to your own way to close, appreciating the richness, including the richness inside you, and dedicating its benefits to all this practice connects you to.”
And then they dedicate the merit.