Glitterfly, beware of phrases like "Universal consciousness" or "if you focus on the entire Universe you can learn from the entire Universe", and, even more dangerously, "you join the Universal consciousness without a need for a physical body". Unless the precise meaning is clear for both you and your readers, what you're describing is much more closer to the non-dual schools in Hinduism than to Buddhism (and yes, it's not easy to separate both for a layperson! But the vision is utterly different, even if the way we translate things into English might sound similar).
In Buddhism, there is no "Universal consciousness", in the sense usually given to the words, that we "join". Fully realised beings, the ones we call Buddhas, have separate mind-streams (from our relative perspective at least) and are not a part of anything "universal" in the conventional sense. I believe that you're using these sentences to illustrate, in our own words, some typical Buddhist teachings which say, "where there is space, there is mind; where is mind, there is space", which can be wrongly understood as "there is an Universal Mind" somehow, but that's not true — what that teaching is supposed to illustrate is the non-dual nature of mind and space. A simpler example: there cannot be observed things without an observer, but it's pointless to speak of an observer if there is nothing to observe. Which comes first, the chicken or the egg? In Buddhism, that question has no meaning: "coming first" means a relationship in time, and time is relative and only experienced in conventional terms (as Einstein has also "discovered" so elegantly!). Buddhism, by contrast, proposes interdependent co-emergence, a fancy word to say that mind and space arise simultaneously, and one cannot exist without the other, and both are dependent on each other. Here is where English translators speak of "union", "joining", "simultaneity" and so forth, because these are words employed by many Western philosophies and schools of thought, as well as Christian theology, but the Buddhist meaning is both more subtle (in the sense that it's less obvious) and more simple (meaning that the words do not need so much over-interpretation).
So, sure, we learn every day by observing all phenomena that appear, and that's one of the many possible daily practices of a Buddhist practitioner: it is by observing phenomena that we experience how they arise simultaneously and interdependently in our minds, and we also realise how impermanent they are, how they're subject to causes and conditions, and so forth. So it's true that we "learn from the Universe" by observing it and understanding that it's our mind that perceives the "Universe". But the fine dividing line between mind and appearances ("the Universe"), if misinterpreted, might lend one to think that somehow the Universe has a "mind" of its own — which is clearly
not a Buddhist teaching (rather the contrary!).
Anyway, sorry to be pedant
One of the lessons that I get repeated over and over again is to be very, very careful about the precise meaning of the teachings, because it's incredibly easy to distort it according to our education, our expectations, our own ideas of what Buddhism is supposed to be, and so forth. I'm not saying that you weren't explaining things properly, just that casual readers might easily be confused and think that Buddhism is, after all, just a "variant" of other Eastern philosophies, while it's quite distinct — and very precise in its distinctions.
Also, be careful about the notion of "losing one's self". While this is a relatively typical translation into English, somehow, for us Westerners, this concept is scary: if we "lose" our identity, what is left? The whole point of Buddhist training is not to "lose" anything (or "gain" anything) but just understand that there was never a "self" to begin with, so we cannot lose something we don't have. Is that a paradox? No, not really. Consider a rainbow, which pleases and amuses us while it's visible. When it disappears, where did it go? Where does it come from? We all know, at least until our parents explain it to us, that a rainbox arises under special conditions: water droplets suspended in the air, the sun shining from a specific angle, and so forth. Simple physics create the illusion of a rainbow, but just because it's an "illusion", it doesn't mean we cannot see it and enjoy it while it lasts; but, similarly, when it disappears, we won't be terribly frustrated with our "loss", because we really didn't "lose" anything — the rainbow does not physically exist after all, it's just an optical effect, albeit a very nice one which we enjoy!
The difficulty in Buddhism is understanding that everything works like rainbows. Put the correct causes and conditions together, and phenomena arise. Eliminate those causes and conditions, and phenomena disappear — just because that's how it works. It's easy to see that with rainbows and optical illusions; much harder to understand how it happens with things we fully believe to intrinsically exist, like our own selves. Nevertheless, we can get a grasp of what's going on when thinking on the causes and conditions of our own existence: we needed parents to give us birth, we needed education to learn how to do things, we needed to interact with fellow human beings to define a "self" which is separate from others. This is all obvious, from an intellectual point of view, so it shouldn't be hard to understand that whatever we call the "self" is just the result — not magic; not a divine creation — of a very large array of causes and conditions, that made us think and behave in a certain way which is unique to each of us.
Now all we need to realise is that this "self" is nothing more (but also nothing less!) than that vast array of causes and conditions; it doesn't "exist" separate from all those causes and conditions, and that's why Buddhism teaches that there is no
intrinsic self (i.e. existing on its own, independent from all those causes and conditions). Similarly, Buddhism does not reject the conventional existence of rainbows; it just states that rainbows do not exist on their own, but as a consequence of several causes and conditions (and we can examine that for ourselves and see if it's true or not). So, realised beings will not "lose" anything, they will just perfectly know that what they call the "self" is just that assembly of causes and conditions — gazillions of them! — and nothing more than that.
So, no, if you practice according to the Buddhist tradition, your "self" will not disappear, it will not "merge" with a "Universal conscience" or anything of the sort. You will just realise that the self has no intrinsic existence, and, once that is realised, your whole life which will much easier to deal with: you won't need to do all those actions to pamper that self, and won't be either frustrated when your plans are thwarted, neither euphoric when something goes well (but lasts only a short moment). That's the meaning of not being "attached to the self" — it's the freedom of choice that comes from not feeling the urge or compulsion to "please" that self.
Crossdressers and transgendered people actually have a huge advantage over cisgendered people. We already know that the "self" cannot be the body — because we can adopt a "male self" when not dressed as women and a "female identity" when dressed. Transition works exactly because we can change our mind — our selves! — and adapt it to a different body. When we feel that our bodies "are not right", we are actually experiencing the profound meaning of the non-existence of an
intrinsic self. In fact, because our social conditioning somehow pushes us to "adopt" a self depending on our genetic makeup, and we hurt a lot because of that, it just shows that the self cannot be something "built-in" into the body and fixed deterministically from birth. Rather, it changes all the time, but, most importantly, it changes depending on our will to change it. Transphobic people are to be pitied: they wrongly assume that the self is somehow tied to the body we were born with and that it is immutable, and thus their aggressive stance against others who have experienced that this is clearly not the case. However, this attitude is childish: it would be like believing that rainbows are solid, truly existing entities, and being angry with people who point out that a rainbow is just an optical illusion.
I'm quite sure that an advanced practitioner will care little about what body they have and what "self" they manifest to others :-) But, on the other hand, they will also have no problem in feeling pleasure in crossdressing or going through transition, if that generates some temporary relief and happiness; Buddhism is a way of happiness, not a way of suffering
The only reason why we don't see many transgendered practitioners is not because they have anything against transgenderism; it's just because they will adopt a lifestyle and an attitude that benefits the largest possible amount of people. Because transgenderism is not well accepted in society, a great teacher will avoid it — not because she or he is against it, but merely because they know that society would find it very strange, and, because of that, they might reject the Buddhadharma (the teachings of the Buddha), finding it's a way of life of weirdos. This is known as "skillful means": understanding, at each moment, what is best to benefit most people.
But there are certainly a lot of groups of transgendered Buddhist practitioners and teachers. It would make no sense for a good teacher to exclude anyone from listening and practicing the Buddhadharma. It is said that Buddhas manifest in any possible way to benefit beings, and that's why we also have some transgendered teachers — because transgendered teachers might be more easily accepted by a transgendered community (they share similar issues, and, as such, it might be easier to empathise with them).
There is a great female teacher, a Westerner, who has been ordered a nun, and keeps to her vows — except when speaking in public to a large Western audience, where she will don some jewelry, makeup, and nice clothes. One might wonder how it's possible for a nun to break so many rules when speaking in public and teaching the Buddhadharma! When questioned, she merely answered, in a very intelligent way, that by dressing up properly, she will be more respected by an audience of Westerners. So she doesn't dress up because of vanity or any other sort of ego-clinging, but merely because she is able to address an audience better than if she dressed herself in an "alien" way (alien for us Westerners). This is not a lack of respect for the Buddhadharma; rather, it's a mark of respect towards her audience. It also gives that audience the confidence that one can be a very realised practitioner and lead a "normal" life (at least externally); she sets a great example. And I've read a few comments from transgendered Buddhist teachers saying pretty much the same thing — they are aware that it's easier to address certain groups if you're seen as being part of the group, instead of opposing it.
In India, Siddhartha behaved as an Indian; in Tibet, teachers behave like Tibetans; in China, teachers behaved as Chinese; and so forth on all countries where the Buddhadharma flourished. It's what you do with your mind that matters, not really what you wear, look like, or even what you say. Nevertheless, there are many different teachings, because there are many different people. For some, for example, adopting a certain way of dressing and a certain way of life makes it much easier to drop ego-clinging and lead a successful life as a practitioner that allows them to reach realisation sooner; if you just have one colour to wear, and just three sets of clothes, you have one worry less — no need to worry about what to wear! That's why ordained monks have simple clothing and little to care about — it makes their way so much easier, by dropping all the worries. But not everyone is comfortable about listening to a monk or a nun, and might think — "I cannot live that way, so Buddhism is not for me". That's why we have so many excellent teachers who never were monks or nuns, but instead live quite normal lives, and still are highly realised beings. One of my teachers was a litigation attorney until recently; the other works at a notary (and is filthy rich because of his work!). None are ordained as monks, and because of their background, they can much more easily set an example to others, who can draw inspiration from them and understand that "it's not the habit that makes the monk" (as Catholics would say!), but their mind-training, which is available to all of us, no matter how we look like and what our lifestyle is.
Another of my teachers always shock people because he
is a monk but loves to eat at KFC; and another one is always tweaking his tablet and laptop and collects videos from traditional folk dances of his home country. One might think that these great teachers would have long lost the "attachment" to such mundane activities! But the point is that they enjoy them
without being attached to them (i.e. if there is no KFC in the vicinity, that particular teacher will not be frustrated or depressed; but if one is available, why not enjoy it, even if the pleasure is just temporary?). I have no doubt that crossdressing, or even going through transition, is precisely the same thing: if you're not attached to that, and don't get frustrated because you cannot crossdress or go through transition, well, then, why not enjoy it if you have the opportunity, fully aware that it won't last "forever"?
One of the first things I've learned from my teachers was the subtle difference between renouncing things and renouncing the
attachment to things. They seem to be the same, but
they are not. Buddhism doesn't reject (nor accept!) anything — except, at least as a training, rejecting getting attached to anything, specially rejecting the attachment to our own ideas. What this means is that if we think things like, "if I cannot crossdress or go through transition, I will never be happy, but only frustrated", then this idea has to be rejected. Once we reject it — meaning that we understand that our ultimate happiness does not come from crossdressing or transitioning — then there is no problem in enjoying being crossdressed, or enjoying our lives as a person of the opposite gender we've been biologically born with. This is easy to write about, but so incredibly difficult to actually do! The good news is that it's
possible — just very hard — but we can learn pretty much everything if we only train it enough. This is true for all fields of knowledge, and, of course, it's also true for Buddhist practice.
Sure, I think we need more transgendered teachers to show us that Buddhism has nothing to say "against" transgenderism...
@Kuan Yin, I am very fortunate for having had several most excellent teachers
— I truly don't have "a way with words", I'm a terribly lazy student! But after having my teachers hammering my poor head with careful explanations, having unbounded patience with my stubbornness and lack of memory, some things clicked into place after a while. Even the worst student and the laziest practitioner will figure out
something on their own, provided that they got excellent teachers, and personally, that's all I can wish for anyone: may you all find an excellent teacher at some point in your lives, who encourages you to achieve the same degree of realisation he or she has, and shows you clearly the way to achieve that, explaining it in a way you can understand and practice without doubts
That's all there is to Buddhist practice, really...
