By Laura Bennett
I want to begin with a poem by Mary Oliver:
“You do not have to be good.
You do not have to walk on your knees
for a hundred miles through the desert repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body
love what it loves.
Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.
Meanwhile the world goes on.
Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain
are moving across the landscapes,
over the prairies and the deep trees,
the mountains and the rivers.
Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,
are heading home again.
Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,
the world offers itself to your imagination,
calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting—
over and over announcing your place
in the family of things.”
I love this poem because it so gently and so completely dismantles the idea that we must earn belonging. It reminds me that we all are already part of the family of things.
Today, I want to talk about Namu Amida Butsu. This is a phrase we hear and recite often, and it is the backbone of our fellowship. It’s also one the things that made me feel immediately comfortable here–immediately at home. It is a phrase (and an offering) that has become a daily companion for me. It’s a phrase that continually reminds me that I am enough, that I can come as I am, and that I am held in something larger than myself. I am held by boundless compassion.
Receiving the Call
Traditionally, Namu Amida Butsu is translated as “I take refuge in Amida Buddha,” or “I entrust myself to Amida Buddha.” One articulation I particularly like was written by Mark Unno. He says:
““Namu” refers to the practitioner who is filled with attachments and blind passions. Amida Butsu is Amida Buddha, not a static being but the dynamic reality of awakening, or the Awakening of Infinite Light. Thus, Namu Amida Butsu means “I, this foolish being filled with blind passions, entrust myself to the awakening of infinite light.””
What I love about this definition is that it does not wait for me to become less foolish. It begins exactly where I am, it accepts me exactly as I am.
When I say Namu Amida Butsu, I am placed in a position of receiving–of listening, of opening myself to the call of Amida Buddha, the call of the Dharma. It feels, to me, very much like Mary Oliver’s wild geese calling me back into belonging, announcing my place in the family of things.
When I first attended the fellowship, as foolish as this might sound, saying Namu Amida Butsu felt in my body very similar to saying namaste, or the light in me sees the light in you. Perhaps this is because bowing at the end of a yoga class was previously the only time I bowed at all.
But my understanding of Come As You Are has deepened far beyond that initial resonance. Over time, this phrase has become an everyday practice of releasing my attachment to perfection, of loosening the anxiety and fear that arise when I believe that I need to show up as polished, eloquent, or put-together in order to belong.
Namu Amida Butsu continually reminds me:
I have nothing to prove. There is nothing to do. There is nowhere to go. There is no one to become. There is no perfect version of me waiting in the future. This moment is all that exists. I am just this.
I am embraced. I am held.
And I am worthy of receiving Amida’s primal vow.
Amida’s Primal Vow: Being Held Exactly As We Are
When we say Namu Amida Butsu, we are responding to something much older and much larger than ourselves, we are responding to and being held by Amida’s Primal Vow.
In Pure Land Buddhism, the central figure is Amida Budda. Before becoming a Buddha, Amida was the bodhisattva Dharmākara, who made 48 vows motivated by boundless compassion. The Eighteenth of these, known as the Primal Vow, is also described as the Vow of Other Power, the vow of entrusting the self to the cosmic power of emptiness and oneness. In essence, this vow is a foundational promise to liberate all beings. It essentially says:
If beings sincerely entrust themselves to me, will to be born in my Pure Land, and call my name (even once) and are not embraced and liberated, then I will not attain Buddhahood.
As you can surmise from the name Amida Buddha…Amida did attain Buddhahood, which means that the vow is already fulfilled. Liberation is not a future possibility, it is already available.
This also means there is no Amida Buddha without us. The fulfillment of the Primal Vow is inseparable from each of our lives—like a puzzle that cannot exist without every piece. The compassion of Amida Buddha works within and through the very fabric of our lived experience.
At its core, the Primal Vow means that awakening does not depend on our moral perfection, spiritual skill, or disciplined practice. We do not need to fix ourselves to become worthy of compassion. The vow begins exactly where we are, we are accepted exactly as we are.
For us as lay followers, as people with jobs, families, anxiety, trauma, challenging habits, etc. this matters deeply. The Primal Vow tells us that liberation is not reserved for monks, mystics, or the spiritually polished. It belongs to ordinary people living ordinary lives, full of contradiction and complexity.
In daily life, this means that even when I am impatient, distracted, or reactive (especially then) I am still embraced by compassion. Even when I act from blind anger or habitual conditioning, I am not cut off from the path. The Primal Vow does not excuse harm, but it frees us from the paralyzing shame that keeps us stuck.
So when I say, I am worthy of receiving Amida’s Primal Vow, I don’t mean that I am perfect or complete or finished. I mean that I am already held. I mean that I do not have to earn my place in the family of things. I mean that nothing about my life falls outside the reach of compassion.
To entrust myself to the Primal Vow is to let go of the belief that someday, when I am wiser, calmer, braver, or more together, I will finally belong. Rather, the vow says: I belong now. You belong now. Saying Namu Amida Butsu is the sound of remembering that truth again and again right in the middle of this life.
Other Power and Oneness
Related to the Primal Vow is the teaching of Other Power, which I first encountered in the book River of Fire, River of Water by Taitesu Unno. At first, this phrase can sound like something external or supernatural, like a higher being stepping in to rescue us, but this is not what is meant by Other Power.
In the book, Taitetsu Unno writes:
“The working of the Primal Vow, the compassion of the Buddha of Immeasurable Light and Life, is called Other Power. But this ‘other’ is not opposed to ‘self’ in the dualistic sense.”
I take this to mean that “Other” in Other Power does not refer to something separate from us, it is not another being controlling us. Other Power is, rather “other than ego,” where the ego turns out to be fabricated, illusory. It’s not self versus something else, it’s not me here and Amida Buddha out there. Rather, it is the entrusting of the constructed, anxious, striving self into the deeper current of reality itself. Other Power is entrusting oneself to Amida’s Primal Vow, to compassion, to a larger oneness.
One passage that has stayed with me says:
“Dharmakara Bodhisattva is with each of us right now in our struggles, sharing our pains and our hopes, remaining by our side, and helping us in our spiritual journey. Dharmakara will not rest until the story of our own life reaches full realization with our own liberation and freedom. When we attain this liberation and freedom, then Amida Buddha becomes a living reality. This process is encapsulated in the living of nembutsu, “namu-amida-butsu.” Namu is the lost, wandering self, seeking a way to realize its fullest potential. Amida-butsu, or Amida Buddha is great compassion that calls all lost and delusory beings to itself. When fully grounded in such a compassion, one’s flowering as a true, real, and sincere person takes place naturally and spontaneously.
Other Power, then, is the working of great compassion that gives itself completely to each form of life.”
What I find powerful about this quote is that it teaches that nothing is required for compassion shows up. Dharmakara Bodhisattva, Amida Buddha, is not waiting for us to improve ourselves or for us to become worthy of his compassion. Compassion is already present in the middle of our confusion, grief, doubt, and imperfection. When we say Namu Amida Butsu, it’s not about reciting something to earn salvation. It is the meeting of our honest, vulnerable self with the compassion that has always been calling to us, calling us home, calling us to come as we are.
Mark Unno, in an article about Other Power, writes:
“The Name of Amida Buddha, rather being something one chants, turns out to be that which one hears: listening deeply, hearing deeply. As the poet T. S. Eliot suggests, it is like ‘music heard so deeply, it is not heard at all, but you are the music, while the music lasts.’”
In this, we see that even the act of chanting is seen as something that is spontaneously arising and that we are receiving. Mark Unno says the chanting is “received by the practitioner who is illuminated, enveloped, and dissolved into the deep flow of the oneness of reality, of Amida’s boundless compassion.”
Other Power, then, is not passivity, it is participation in the vast web of compassion already at work.
And through this working of Other Power, we become ourselves more truly. As Taitestu Unno says:
“Liberated from the lingering effects of our karmic past, we move forward in life positively and creatively.”
Other Power allows us to flower more honestly, more spontaneously, more truly.
Each saying of Namu Amida Butsu is the sound of the ego relaxing, it is the sound of being held by compassion. Each saying releases us into a boundless universe.
Sangha as the Whole of the Way
For years, I circled around Buddhism but felt something essential was missing. I named this missing piece spiritual community–the third leg of the stool, the third jewel. Looking back, I see how Western that framing was, as if the Buddha, Dharma, and Sangha were things to acquire.
When I found this sangha, I thought I had finally found that missing piece. What I didn’t realize at first was that I hadn’t found part of the path…I had found the whole of it.
What I was missing wasn’t just a piece, but a peace: whole-hearted acceptance that can only be practiced in relationship. The kind of acceptance we chant every time we say Namu Amida Butsu; the liberating acceptance and compassion of Come as You Are.
Sangha is the place where we can truly practice this compassionate acceptance, where we can actually experience Come as You Are in real time.
As Christopher sensei says in his Dharma talk on Sangha as Practice:
“In our tradition, our practice is the practice of sangha, intentional community, deep listening, come as you are, and whole-hearted acceptance. The heart of what we do, of Namu Amida Butsu, is spiritual friendship.”
The nembutsu isn’t something to say absentmindedly, it is a phrase that brings us to boundless compassion, and it becomes an embodied practice that informs how we relate to one another. When someone shows up exhausted, grieving, lost, joyful, fearful, skeptical, grateful, angry, or all of the above…we make space for them, we listen deeply, we acknowledge them with a bow, we come as we are, and allow (or at least, practice allowing) one another to do the same. This practice is the living nembutsu. It is Other Power working through relationship.
Our sangha is a practice ground. It is a place to learn authentic trust through vulnerability and connection. A place where we can mess up and begin again together. Where we can disagree and still belong. Where we can dance, break, rebuild, and walk this unrepeatable life side by side.
In this way, sangha is not an accessory to the path nor a support for the real practice. It is the practice. To show up as we are, to let others show up as they are, and to trust that boundless compassion is holding all of it.
Come As You Are in Daily Life
I saw this practice (of come as you are) show up clearly once when my older brother came to visit me in Salt Lake City. I should say–I’ve always looked up to my brother and I’d say we’re relatively close for being 8 years apart. I’d also say that, like most siblings, he pushes my buttons and provokes me like no one else. Anyway, during his visit, I mentioned several times how important our fellowship was to me and what it meant in my life. He didn’t respond much to this, and I felt disappointed.
At Sangha that Sunday, I was able to do what our practice manual names so clearly: let go of the stories and delusions that had hindered my freedom for so long.
I was able to see that I wasn’t letting my brother come as he is. I was holding silent expectations that constrained both of us.
When I released those expectations, and allowed him to come as he is, our relationship shifted. I became less reactive, and he actually became less defensive. And even when he did say something provoking to me, I didn’t take it personally. Allowing him to come as he is, without expectation, without judgment has changed the way we relate to one another. Our dynamic is softer all because I started showing up with more openness and compassion.
Because I had experienced the freedom of Come As You Are here in Sangha, I was able to offer that same freedom to him.
Another Liberating Moment
Another example of how this practice of come as you are has impacted me in daily life comes from last year, when I first began training to be a Practice Leader for our fellowship. I remember feeling overwhelmed-by the suffering of the world, by exhaustion, by self-doubt. On this day, I even dreaded attending Practice Leader Training because I felt I wasn’t showing up “right.” I was caught in shame and self doubt, and putting an unreasonable expectation on myself to show up perfectly, in a great mood and with wisdom to share.
Then suddenly, I remembered (really remembered) Namu Amida Butsu, Come As You Are. And I immediately felt lighter. Like, of course! I can come as I am! I can let go of these expectations, stories, and delusions that are hindering me.
It felt like a sheet of ice falling off a window, revealing the unrepeatable landscape of the day.
This was, as Taitetsu Unno says in River of Fire, River of Water:
“A liberating moment to go deeper into true and real life.”
Calling One Another Home
When I say Namu Amida Butsu, Amida speaks through my voice. When we say Namu Amida Butsu, Amida speaks through each of our voices. The call moves through us and calls us home to ourselves and to one another.
As Gregory Orr writes:
“Saying the word
Is seizing the world
Not by the scruff,
Not roughly,
But still fervent,
Still the fierce hug of love.”
Namu Amida Butsu allows me to release my attachment to perfection, to controlling the uncontrollable. It invites me to attend to life as it is, not as I wish it were.
It allows me to be a student of the way.
To show both sides of the leaf.
To learn with compassion as my companion.
Namu Amida Butsu
So, now I turn the time over to you. What does Namu Amida Butsu, or Come As You Are, mean to you?