In 1994, Mary Pipher penned the classic psychology-porn book Reviving Ophelia: Saving the Selves of Adolescent Girls.  Thus identified, many an angsty adolescent girl (myself included/higlighted) in the mid-90’s pored over this tome, gleefully fantasizing about developing the dramatic psychosis of the test cases Pipher recounted.  Of course the book wasn’t intended for us, it was intended for our parents, to recognize the emotional traps of their own personal “Ophelia’s” so we didn’t end up all “Rosemary for Remembrance” because some soccer player passed us a “Get thee to a nunnery” note during study hall.  However in my house, at least, I was the only one who read Pipher’s book, scanning for inspiration and symptoms of a not-overly-unpleasant mental illness I could develop that would allow me to miss more school and drop Physics.  (Whatever I know all the liberal art-sters out there are murmuring “But I loved Physics.  Physics and Geometry! They’re the most creative!”  Congratulations.  I liked Biology and Algebra.  We move on.)

Fourteen years later, the Pied Pipher is at it again, mounting this train called “I’m Distracted” with a new book, Seeking Peace: Chronicles of the Worst Buddhist in the World.  Okay, before I commence on a loving and good-natured rant, let me first say that I have violated every charge and conflicted every argument that I level.  In fact, I’ve considered writing some kind of “I’m a young, sexy Buddhist-sinner in this crazy 21st century world” memoire-type book.  But maybe I shouldn’t.  Because more and more if you asked (and you didn’t) I would say:
Please.  Can we stop with the bad Buddhist thing?
Okay, it’s one thing to understand and appreciate the “worst horse” teaching.  (The famous statement of Shunryu Suzuki’s that sometimes the worst horse is the best kind of Buddhist).  It’s another thing to cut down the fundamental dharma teachings by saying, well gosh, I’m the worst Buddhist ever, because I’m career-focused / lovesick / stressed / self-absorbed / full of anxiety / too down to earth / not into the new-agey thing / resistant / whatever.
Firstly, it’s a lie.  You, me and Mary Pipher know that she is not the “worst” Buddhist in the world – rather she’s a fairly average, overly self-analytical status-anxiety-driven person who is studying Buddhism. It’s a hyperbolic plea, to make us say, No!  You’re a great Buddhist!  Because you think you’re bad! But you’re not! Because you’re already saying you are!  And it’s funny because Buddhism is notoriously non-dualistic! You’re self-aware!  Good job! You guys want to read about bad Buddhists?  Read the Sarpashana Sourcebook (Sanskrit for Poison Eaters) that was put out about the addiction program at the Shambhala Center in Colorado.  My past life sometimes wishes it was still a grownup in the eighties, before everyone started feeling so freaking guilty about freaking everything.
Secondly, these stories falter by the fact that these ibadatthespirit authors are generally persuasive, charming writers who seem to have their lives together – see Judith Warner or the Beat Flay Shove lady.  Therefore, all the neurosis that these folks are supposed to be “down” on – their cynicism, their mind that keeps thinking about “Work” and “Accomplishment,” and “Status” is actually totally glorified.  When I hear Mary Pipher talk about how she’s such a bad Buddhist because she’s got perfectionist tendencies, I then connect those tendencies to her writing a best-selling psychology book.  Hence, for some odd reason I’m not like, “yeah – wow, I wish I didn’t have that quality of an excellent work ethic that has prompted your national book tour.”
Furthermore, when anyone talks about how it’s hard for them to follow Buddhism because they come from a tradition of tough-talkers (which Piper claims) I have two reactions:
1.  Every American has a love affair with the authentic no BS archetype.  By saying that has led to why you are the worst Buddhist I kinda feel if she’s wrong I don’t want to be right.  I know the idea is to say, “And still I meditated! Despite my attitude!” yet it’s more like disclaiming, “see you can listen to me because I’m not really like all the rest of these space cadets.”
2.  If you have to bring up straight-talking how about what Buddhism actually says?  The daily Buddhist reminder that your body WILL become a rotting corpse AND that if you invest in the worldly world suffering CANNOT and WILL NOT be escaped is more of a straight-talk express than any regionally-accented “I can’t tolerate people who sit around contemplating their navel” nonsense.  Oh – here’s the interview I watched of Pipher, btw.

Lastly, the “Bad Buddhist” claim is an excuse for not putting forth Right Effort.  It’s like sleeping with your best friend’s husband then being like, “Yeah, I know.  I’m a terrible person” and expecting that admission to absolve you.  (Okay, it’s not as bad as that).  But I think all this bad-Buddhist talks undercuts the gravity of a committed consistent practice.  It’s one thing to honestly and skillfully address, without ego, our flaws.  But when I listened to Mary Pipher’s segment on NPR, so tonally similar to so many recent articles and books written by members of this emotional-intelligentsia crowd, I feel the talk is misleading.  I know that she’s probably heading to the, “and I learned to accept my bad Buddhist and that’s when I became a good Buddhist” trope, but the actual message is drastically confused by the medium.
Hey, I know it’s the book publishing industry!  I know there are less people in the world who want to read a book called, Seeking Peace: Why Contentment is a Myth and How You Will Die.  But all these high-pitched-white-collar-worker-in-a-flurry “I’m so bad at Buddhism” articles, books and posts, while they might connect to a certain readership, seem inherently false.  Call me prejudiced, nasty, hypocritical or a sacrosanct crank – but please, don’t call me a bad Buddhist. 
I remember I was in class once with Jessica and I was expostulating, quick-breathed and insistently, about how attachment is harder to release when it’s around something good versus something bad, and how I’m so bad at that, I’m so bad, blah blah blah.  When I came up for breath she said, firmly, “Yeah, I mean, you could let your neurotic mind go as far as it wanted to there.” And I realized that I was using my endearingly frantic habitual negativity as mental entertainment to distract myself from the terrifying simplicity of releasing my mental obscurations and resting in the present moment.
So sexy bad Buddhist that I’ve claimed to be in the past – I let you go.  Not the sexy part.  The sexy part I’m keeping.  Just the bad Buddhist part.  From now on my goal is to be a pretty good Buddhist.  I am cultivating my Buddhist self-esteem and I suspect it might force TF to take a bit more spiritual responsibility.  Hence I’m looking forward to my spring re-enrollment in Intermediate Hardcore Dharma which commences this Saturday.  Our main text is called Spectrum of Ecstasy.  When Ethan told me I was all like, “ye-heah, that’s what he said” but then realized that was inappropriate and regarded my footwear in woeful shame. 
Andale April!  The cruelest month!