A Simple Question

It's a small question, but it'll be interesting to see the range of replies. References to flax and plum trees are forbidden. So, to you,

What is Zen?

The temple bell echoes across the valley

I received the task of listening to the echoes of the temple bell. Difficult when there is no valley here, and no bell either. But I sit down and listen.

Listening, sounds appear, perception is refined. Listening changes as so do echoes: there is the humming of the heating system; or my daughter breathing deeply as she falls asleep; or a passing car out there in the far distance; or the church bell...

What is the source of these sounds?

The listened is seen.

Not with the eyes.

Without warning, not predicting it, another temple bell echoes across the valley: the breathing process. This is not heard, but rather felt. Breathing in and out is the bell echoing; the body is the valley. The echoing is seen moving up and down the valley, in and out, deeper and deeper.

The body is the bell

struck by the breathing

its sound is totally empty

But, what is the source of this sound?

There is only one bell in the temple. It fills the whole universe. It sounds, vibrates and echoes in itself: heating system, breathing in and out, daughter sleeping, body feeling, passing car... all this just echoing across the valley, which is a bell, echoing across the valley, which...

what is the source of this sound?

The emperor stays in palace. 

The general goes beyond the frontiers.

---

The picture is borrowed from The Boundless Mind Zen website

Who do you think you are?

“We are what we think. All that we are arises with our thoughts. With our thoughts, we make the world.”
The Dharmapada

As advanced as our science becomes and as far as we have come spiritually, we still do not believe that we create our own existence. Many of us will admit that we create our current circumstances, while others will admit that our perception of reality is the only reality we really know. But who among us has come to totally believe that our thoughts actually create the world?

Duality is what keeps us from seeing this clearly, there is me and there is what is not me. I am a product of circumstances beyond my control. These thoughts are all generations of the dualistic mind, the mind that does not recognize the perceived and perceiver as one. Our eyes and my eyes are one and the same, yet to nearly all, the world something we see outside of us.

Who do you think you are?

Who’s your teacher?

Where’s your certificate?

What’s your lineage?

Are you qualified to transmit the dharma?

These questions are all too prevalent in Buddhism, and are usually asked by people who doubt or disagree with what you have to say. Unable or unwilling to trust their own judgment of whatever bits of information, wisdom, or foolishness you may have just offered, they want to know if someone else (your teacher or other certifying agency) agrees with what you say. If they have heard of this other person, or if you can sufficiently convince them of that person’s qualifications, then they may believe you and be willing to listen further. Why is this? Why are we so willing to disregard one teacher, then blindly trust another (to the point of exalting and deifying them), entirely on the basis of who did or didn’t sign their certificate? Why can’t we simply evaluate what they’ve said and trust our own insight and judgment as to its veracity?

This need for external verification of authority is most definitely not unique to Buddhism, though it is certainly antithetical to Buddhist teachings. And yet, many Buddhists formalize it, revere it and give it a special name: lineage. Rather than using our own personal experience and innate wisdom to decide if a person speaks true, we instead look to his teacher. And his teacher’s teacher. And his teacher’s teacher. And so on and on, until we come to the name of a teacher that we trust and recognize as an authority on the matter. How far back do we go - to Dogen? Rinzai? Bodhidharma? Buddha? Do we ask who the Buddha’s teacher was? Do we wonder who gave him the right and authority to teach? When the Buddha said “Be a light unto yourself”, I’m quite certain he didn’t add “so long as you can trace that light through an unbroken line of qualified teachers back to me.”

The mistake we make is in equating teachings (or wisdom) with authority, in the process also failing to recognize the very source of authority. The Buddha addresses this himself in the Kalama Sutra. He advises us not to blindly accept teachings, but to critically examine and experiment with them, accepting them finally only if they ring true for us based on our own experience and understanding. That is to say, authority comes from within, and we should grant this authority to the teachings of others only if they accord with our own innate wisdom. Thus does a teacher gain his authority – not from his teacher, but from his student; he is a teacher if and only if he has one or more students who think that there is truth in what he has to say.

When we realize this, we see that teachers are not the sources of our authority, but simply those who have gone before us, and that the purpose of lineage is not to grant them authority, but to preserve and transmit their teachings. In this sense, it doesn’t even matter if the lineage is unbroken, or if such-and-such a teacher was in that direct line. Recalling our geometry lessons from school, a line is defined by two points – no more, no less. Additional points may fall on the same line, but only two of them are needed for the line to exist. This means that as one point of the line, you are in direct lineage with any teacher from whom you learn. You are a direct descendant of Buddha, Jesus, Bodhidharma, Meister Eckhart, Rumi, the raven in the sky, the salmon in the stream, the mountain underfoot, and the neighbor across the street. You belong to as many lineages as there are teachers, and as the center point for all these lines connecting you to the teachers of the ages, you are a veritable sunburst – truly a light unto yourself.

Egolessness

In buddhist circles it is usually said that we are trapped by our notions about ourselves.

Sometimes I think not-self is as dangerous as the self, we end up trapped by that notion too, almost making a thing of the ego, a devil to be fight and conquered, the subject of struggle, confussion and worry (because we deny to admit that we don't understand).

Whatever we make of the ego, it is not by creating more concepts that we awake or get liberated, but by abandoning completely concept creations. Can we do that? Or is it too much for our egos?

Let the ancient master speak:

Cast off completely your head and skin. Thoroughly withdraw from distinctions of light and shadow. Where the ten thousand changes do not reach is the foundation that even a thousand sages cannot transmit. Simply by yourself illuminate and deeply experience it with intimate accord. The original light flashes through confusion. True illumination reflects into the distance. Deliberations about being and nonbeing are entirely abandoned. The wonder appears before you, its benefit transferred out for kalpas. Immediately you follow conditions and accord with awakening without obstruction from any defilements. The mind does not attach to things, and your footsteps are not visible on the road. The you are called to continue the family business. Even if you thoroughly understand, still practice until it is familiar. (Hongzhi Zhengjue, 1091-1157)

Buddhist Missionaries

We rarely hear of "Buddhist missionaries".

Do you think we should?

We Choose Our Suffering

When we choose to enjoy excessive eating and fattening foods, we choose the suffering of being overweight and unhealthy.

When we choose to intoxicate ourselves with drugs and alcohol, we choose the suffering of hangovers, overdoses and organ damage.

When we choose to be strongly opinionated and judgmental of others, we choose the suffering of reciprocal judgment and loneliness.

When we choose actions that destroy our environment, we choose the suffering of pollution, species extinction and climate change.

When we choose to accept war and social injustice, we choose the suffering of sorrow and guilt.

When we choose to express ourselves through hateful speech, we choose the suffering of regret.

When we choose to love others, we inevitably choose the suffering of loss.

When we choose to dwell on the self, we choose the suffering of emptiness.

When we choose to ignore reality, we choose the suffering of our ignorance.

The old adage says- “Name Your Poison” and with every action that is exactly what we do. It seems that we must we decide between the “lesser of two evils” every time we make any choice. So, what is this to say about the nature of our suffering? Do we actually have a choice?

If this were poised to me as a multiple choice question, I would have to choose “All the above”

Is it too late to drop this class?

Abide in the Unborn

I don't know why I came to remember Bankei's words.

Denmark is white all over. Snow takes in all sounds and we are forced to walk slowly and look around.











A Spanish translator reminded me of Laozi, retreating, losing, giving up, staying last and deepest, resting in the dao.

Abide in the Unborn

Just like water.
Liquid water.

Some people find a comfortable place; then they freeze, turn into ice and resist change. They know ice will melt down. The more one resists, the more painfull it will be.
And yet, rigth now, as water or ice, one rests on it, opening hands, giving one more step from the top of the 100 meter pole.
Every moment.

Craving & Parenthood

"Life is filled with craving. Craving causes to stress. To eliminate stress, just eliminate craving. To eliminate craving..."

...do the stuff we do. Sit on a cushion. Wear black. If you like Confucius, get up-tight about oryoki, if you like Lao Tse, get non-dualistic about ritual - whatever does it for you. But eliminate craving.

It works for me as an individual - but not as a parent! To aid his life-long happiness I had to go through ten days of misery with my son recently - worth doing, but I needed a strong motivation to launch into such a painful process.

Craving is a great motivator! So, because I craved his long-term welfare, we went through the process, it was horrid, but life's better now and I suspect lots of lumps of suffering have been erased from his future. I only did it because craving made me. Clearly craving eliminates suffering!

Seems a bit of a paradox here. For the Zen practitioner, eliminating craving really does make life better: but as a parent, can one do without it?

Is this the big difference between Zen and Theravada?
Theravada: "Eliminate craving."
Zen: "Seek Right Action. And sometimes craving is Right Action."

What do you guys think? Extra cred points awarded to the opinions of anyone who confesses to being a parent!

Ask Bodhidharma

Dear Bodhidharma,

I am a dedicated zen practitioner who enjoys attending meditation retreats at my local zen center. While I enjoy these retreats, I don't feel that we spend enough time in silent, seated meditation. So during a work period at the last retreat, I asked the teacher "Why do we spend so much time working? Shouldn't we spend more time practicing zen?" He laughed so hard that he dropped his rake!

I don't get it - what was so funny?

Sincerely,

A Confused Practitioner

Sewing the Buddha's Robe

My lengthy solo attempt to make a kesa has ended.

"Solo" as in sewing unsupported, without oxygen.
"Attempt" as in Scott's "attempt" to reach the South Pole.

So, it was difficult and ended in failure. Let me talk you through it so that you may find it easier if you decide to have a go.

I don't really mind having failed as this was largely a philosophical exercise - when would I wear a kesa? The philosophical aspect was my attempt to sew within the spirit of the original kesas, garments made from discarded cloth. My kesa would be patchwork not because Dogen said the "official" pattern looked like rice fields: my kesa would be patchwork simply because if you make a large garment from discarded material, patchwork is the only way to do it.

Thus I found discarded materials - a worn out hockey shirt and a couple of pairs of trousers which seemed both to have shrunk about the waistband at the same time in my life. (Washing machine operating too hot?) With the help of a basic pattern - it's on the right-hand side of the blog - I got cracking.

There are two mistakes from which I feel you could learn.

Firstly, if you don't yet know how to sew seams, don't learn as you go along. My last seams looked excellent, very pro: sadly the rest were awful and thus have a grotty, frayed appearance. I discovered the important thing was to fold the seam over a couple of times until the edges of both bits of fabric are safely tucked away. Ok, ok, I know that's obvious to those of you who already know how to sew!

Secondly, home dying is really hard. The only way to get a consistent colour is to make your whole kesa from the same material. Now, this gets philosophically tricky as the whole point is to use discarded material, so going out and buying a roll of fabric is not quite in the vibe. Next time I do it, I'll go to the "thrift store" (I think that's what you call charity shops in America) and buy a discarded curtain, preferably a brown one to save the necessity of any dying at all. You'll then have to decide what you think was the real point behind the patchwork effect, and leave the cloth intact or cut up and reassemble according to your philosophy of kesa manufacure.

My rectangle of fraying, multicoloured cloth won't go to waste - there's thick snow over here and our zendo has neither heating nor insulation, so I'll be wrapped up in it for tonight's group meditation session, when the "mood" lighting (candles) will not reveal quite what a hobo I look. However, if you wish to make an item which you can wear in public, in daylight, then please bear in mind what I have learnt about material and seams.

Gassho

what is this we do?

When we do any one thing, be aware of that one thing, placing your full attention within it. When we do any one thing, we ask why we do it, evaluating in full consciousness our actions and our words.

So then I have to wonder, what is this that we do in meditation?

Can 'sitting,' in a seated meditation, be just that simple? One just sits, breathing and following the breath, totally silent? And that's it? Did the Buddha really reach enlightenment doing something so utterly simple? So simple and yet, why is something so simple also, at times, so hard?

Sometimes I sit and beautiful things unfold in a singular consciousness, a timeless space awash in ephemeral mystery that rises and falls with each breath. Most times I sit and grapple with circular thoughts of past and future -- What did I do the day before last and how would I do it differently, and what do I have to do this afternoon? What did they mean when they said that to me? Or were they intending something else? And then remembering, returning back to my breath, wondering again how this simple practice of 'sitting' could be so difficult?

The mind is a three ring circus event - three shows all at once, with trapeze artists flying high above, and clowns below throwing candy to the crowd.

So there is more to 'sitting' than just simply sitting - this much is obvious. If it were to be called a 'skill,' then it is something that must be practiced and honed over time. This practice continually evolves and changes, as subtle as that would be, for I still just sit! And for this reason I keep returning to the cushion, breathing softly, tethering the attention to the in and out of my breath, the rise and fall of my abdomen....

After retreat

There was a ghost in the house but only when I thought of him. So I hid his name and picture and he didn't annoy me anymore.

Usually ghosts are only there when we think of them, when we give them power to scare us or worry us.

Apart from ghosts, there was snow, wind, rain and sun. Quietness, silence and work being done, work being done.

A lot of questions to make, another way to get out, to wanting to get out. But when staying with the question, no one there to answer it, no place to hide... what do you do?

The silent retreat ended. Another one started: the retreat of daily life. What's more important?

Whisky can be Zen

I love decent whisky, but normally can't justify the extortionate expenditure when the world has greater priorities. However, a couple of weeks ago I helped at a charity auction where all the funds raised were going to needy children. A half case of whisky came up - the best, from the private bottlings of the Chairman of the Bruichladdich distillery, home of Lagavulin.

So I won the auction with a bid of £500. My wife was very understanding.

Two days ago I allowed a couple of friends to help me open the first two bottles. We had a pleasant time - but the conversation was interrupted by the whisky and the whisky was interrupted by the conversation. Neither were satisfactory - yet this was the very best whisky, and when I have the same two chaps round for conversation, we converse well.

Tonight I sat alone and tried again. My son was asleep, my wife in the bath - just me and the whisky, and silence.

The experience is as impossible to describe as the inner experience of zazen - that is why food critics and Zen manuals both resort to apparently meaningless strings of words .

However, if you've done Zen, then you'll understand when I say that the whisky tasting involved one-pointed mind. What a joy! And what a contrast to the previous attempt at the same experience!

Zen is doing one thing, whole-heartedly, at one time.

(I would like to assure readers that no precepts were broken in the writing of this blog - at over US$100 per bottle, I can't afford to get heedless.)

Now

Leaving tomorrow for retreat. Am I ready? Is there anything I have to do before departing? If I had more time to order this and that...

Is this what I'll say to aging, illness and death whenever they come? "Excuse me, would you give me five minutes" or "Could you come next month, I have no time right now"?

No, I won't say this.

Retreat is now.

Are you ready for now?

The One Turning

Gasses compressing under their own weight become stars which ultimately explode forming the cosmic dust that condenses into planets.

Amorphous goo mutates into protoplasm that endlessly self consumes in an unbroken chain of ever changing life forms.

The caterpillar morphs into the butterfly just as the protosimian evolves into the human being. What was once one thing simply transmutes into another.

All beginnings spring from terminal remains in a rhythmic continuum, endlessly converting each imagined ending into something new.

The birth of a child seems to us to be nothing like the spontaneous ignition of a new born star, but these are all aspects of one continuous event, the one turning we call the universe.

Contrary to what we perceive as disjoined pieces of an enormous puzzle, the whole universe is woven together like a sweater knitted from a single yarn.

What is the meaning of this?

effortless effort

Look at the way the trees move,

effortless effort,

and then arriving...

may this be my model.

Koan

Two monks are admiring earthenware tea bowls. The first monk hands a bowl to the second, saying "I like this bowl - I can see the Buddha in its shiny glaze". After gazing intently at the bowl, the second one says "Really? All I can see is my reflection . . ."

See, though without eyes;

There is vast distance between a thought

and the space that exists around it.

Does a tree concern itself as it grows green, lush in the warm spring air?

Does a bird doubt the beauty of the nest it builds?

Set your worries to the side to rest.

See, though without eyes;

the simplicity around us shows us the path to touch eternity.

Samu

Fifty weeks waiting for my retreat.

It's coming soon.

This one will be short because we bought a house that has to undergo some renovations. I'm working there 7 days a week.

But not all is expectation, waiting (this is just another passing cloud). Working 7 days a week also means the work and, helping in that (the work during the work) here is a passage by Man-An:

You should not slack off for an instant. Alerting your vital spirit as your breathe out and in, watching your step as you walk forth and back, be as if you were galloping on a single horse into an opposing army of a million troops, armed with a single sword. As long as our concentration is not purely singleminded in both activity and stillness, it will be hard to attain even a little accord. Concentration of right mindfulness should be cultivated most especially in the midst of activity. You need not necessarily prefer stillness.

Not preferring, coming home, sitting down.

Keep working