With palms together
Good Morning Everyone,
This morning I am to speak in front of a college class on the topic of Buddhism. This is always a pleasure, but a curiously challenging one. How does one communicate what Buddhism is? Typically I begin with the story of his enlightenment and this might be apropos as we are close to Rohatsu. Then I address the different flavors of Buddhism, finally arriving at the core practices. I am careful to say that Buddhism is really not an “-ism” as it has no theology, philosophy, or dogma, although some argue this point. Any “-ism” that arises, arises from an individual’s own understanding from practice and study and not a doctrinal overly. This whole exposure has a 50-minute frame.
So, I do the best I can and try to be as personable as possible.
This last point seems to me to be the most important, yet often overlooked. Teachers need to know that it is not their words that are so much important as their posture. Are we open? Are we joyful? Are we centered? Do we walk in our own authority and not wobble? Do we manifest the six paramitas: generosity, morality, patience, vigor, meditation, and wisdom?
It is most often the person that is recalled, not the teaching. Or better said, the person is the teaching.
Note: No Zen in the park this morning.
Be well.
Monday, November 29, 2010
Sunday, November 28, 2010
Beauty
With palms together
Good Morning Everyone,
The days are getting short again. Fall is clearly here and the leaves are already on the ground. This morning, early, I looked out at the eastern sky and saw the stars, the moon, and the town’s night lights. I wondered how often it is that I don’t see the moon, or the stars, or the night lights, as I am so thoroughly consumed with what the Little Prince called “matters of consequence.”
What could possibly be more consequential than thoroughly being in the moment I am in with beauty all around me? I am reminded of an encounter with a Navajo man when I was a therapist working on the reservation. He had lived off the reservation for some time and was feeling lost. He could see no beauty.
Now, if you know anything about the People, you should know that “to walk in beauty” is the highest good and it is derived from being one with the land and the natural world. We took a short walk outside of my office. I asked him to stop. I asked him to look down. There, between his feet, was a small violet flower. Looking up the sky was a deep blue. Looking out, the trees were a lovely green.
In the midst of his sorrow resided beauty. He just needed to open his eyes to see it. Don’t we all?
Be well.
Good Morning Everyone,
The days are getting short again. Fall is clearly here and the leaves are already on the ground. This morning, early, I looked out at the eastern sky and saw the stars, the moon, and the town’s night lights. I wondered how often it is that I don’t see the moon, or the stars, or the night lights, as I am so thoroughly consumed with what the Little Prince called “matters of consequence.”
What could possibly be more consequential than thoroughly being in the moment I am in with beauty all around me? I am reminded of an encounter with a Navajo man when I was a therapist working on the reservation. He had lived off the reservation for some time and was feeling lost. He could see no beauty.
Now, if you know anything about the People, you should know that “to walk in beauty” is the highest good and it is derived from being one with the land and the natural world. We took a short walk outside of my office. I asked him to stop. I asked him to look down. There, between his feet, was a small violet flower. Looking up the sky was a deep blue. Looking out, the trees were a lovely green.
In the midst of his sorrow resided beauty. He just needed to open his eyes to see it. Don’t we all?
Be well.
Friday, November 26, 2010
Nothing Special
With palms together
Good Afternoon Everyone,
Zen is easily understood, but had to attain. The easy is that it is direct. Want to know? Experience directly. There is absolutely nothing mystical about it. So, if it is so easy, then why do we need all the words, why do we talk a seeming double-talk? The truth is, we don’t and too often the words get between us and our attainment of the moment. Thinking about something is not the thing. Painting a picture is not the thing. Graphs, charts, and pointers are not the thing. Each of these are creations of our mind to make a picture of that which cannot be spoken, drawn, or otherwise communicated.
Easy, but hard.
The easy part is just experiencing ourselves. The hard part is letting go of the idea that there should be something more. We want more. We want fancy. We want mystical. Such things make us feel special. But we are not special and Zen is nothing special.
Drop away from special. Live your life as it is.
Easy, but hard. So it goes.
Good Afternoon Everyone,
Zen is easily understood, but had to attain. The easy is that it is direct. Want to know? Experience directly. There is absolutely nothing mystical about it. So, if it is so easy, then why do we need all the words, why do we talk a seeming double-talk? The truth is, we don’t and too often the words get between us and our attainment of the moment. Thinking about something is not the thing. Painting a picture is not the thing. Graphs, charts, and pointers are not the thing. Each of these are creations of our mind to make a picture of that which cannot be spoken, drawn, or otherwise communicated.
Easy, but hard.
The easy part is just experiencing ourselves. The hard part is letting go of the idea that there should be something more. We want more. We want fancy. We want mystical. Such things make us feel special. But we are not special and Zen is nothing special.
Drop away from special. Live your life as it is.
Easy, but hard. So it goes.
Thursday, November 25, 2010
Gratitude
With palms together
Good Morning Everyone,
May our day be one filled with serene reflection. Thanksgiving is such a wonderful holiday. It seems to me another word for thanksgiving is gratitude. Gratitude requires three things of us. Gratitude, as a quality of selflessness, requires us to look outside of ourselves for those things that nurture and support us. Yet, at the same time, it asks us to look inside for the many points in our heart we are touched. Lastly, gratitude needs to be expressed in some way.
What do we do with our gratitude? How do we express it? I hope having gratitude means a bit more than our traditional meals, a day off, and sales at local stores. For me, I am grateful for the opportunity to look at my life and the many people who have steadfastly supported and nurtured me over this last very challenging year. I also am grateful for those who did not. Sometimes the sting of failing friendships puts things in perspective. Perspective is a quality of wisdom.
Today: Zazen at 7:00 AM, Thanksgiving Dinner at Clear Mind Zen Temple at 5:30 PM, and Zazen at 7:00 PM.
Be well.
Good Morning Everyone,
May our day be one filled with serene reflection. Thanksgiving is such a wonderful holiday. It seems to me another word for thanksgiving is gratitude. Gratitude requires three things of us. Gratitude, as a quality of selflessness, requires us to look outside of ourselves for those things that nurture and support us. Yet, at the same time, it asks us to look inside for the many points in our heart we are touched. Lastly, gratitude needs to be expressed in some way.
What do we do with our gratitude? How do we express it? I hope having gratitude means a bit more than our traditional meals, a day off, and sales at local stores. For me, I am grateful for the opportunity to look at my life and the many people who have steadfastly supported and nurtured me over this last very challenging year. I also am grateful for those who did not. Sometimes the sting of failing friendships puts things in perspective. Perspective is a quality of wisdom.
Today: Zazen at 7:00 AM, Thanksgiving Dinner at Clear Mind Zen Temple at 5:30 PM, and Zazen at 7:00 PM.
Be well.
Wednesday, November 24, 2010
Free
With palms together
Good Morning Everyone,
“Buddhism is a religion of action, not of words that so often mean nothing…peaceful sit-in demonstrations are examples of great action in silence. …Nothing will ever be achieved unless action is taken.” Rev. Dr. Soyu Matsuoka-roshi, The Kyosaku, p. 319
Matsuoka is referring to the protests against segregation in America during the sixties. His point, though, is simple and straight forward: we are not simply meditators. Followers of the Buddha Way have an obligation to act in the face of evil. Buddhism, he says, is a religion of action, and so it is. Any word would be a waste of breath. Silence is thunder, he used to say. But silence in a certain way. Silence with an attitude.
What is the attitude? The attitude of Zen: still, courageous, and upright.
These days far too many of us are complacent. We have truly become sheep or worse. We are either sleepwalking through life or busily burying our heads in the sand while all around us bad things are happening. From a slow erosion of human rights to an erosion of civility to an erosion of care for others to outright hostility toward those with whom we may disagree: we are becoming a world of beings lost in the three poisons.
We are afraid to say no and we are afraid to say yes. The common denominator is fear. We do not want to rock the boat. We do not want to be the one’s who others look at, the one’s on the front line.
When I think about it, I get a sick feeling. Segregation and racism are still with us. War has been a constant part of our lives. People are homeless, without medical care or coverage, and we do not trust our neighbors. Not much has changes since the days of Vietnam Veterans Against the War, Martin Luther King, and our efforts to end hunger and homelessness.
In this land of the free, we give up, and to be safe, we elect to live in cages. Where is a good Zen Master when you really need her?
Be well.
Good Morning Everyone,
“Buddhism is a religion of action, not of words that so often mean nothing…peaceful sit-in demonstrations are examples of great action in silence. …Nothing will ever be achieved unless action is taken.” Rev. Dr. Soyu Matsuoka-roshi, The Kyosaku, p. 319
Matsuoka is referring to the protests against segregation in America during the sixties. His point, though, is simple and straight forward: we are not simply meditators. Followers of the Buddha Way have an obligation to act in the face of evil. Buddhism, he says, is a religion of action, and so it is. Any word would be a waste of breath. Silence is thunder, he used to say. But silence in a certain way. Silence with an attitude.
What is the attitude? The attitude of Zen: still, courageous, and upright.
These days far too many of us are complacent. We have truly become sheep or worse. We are either sleepwalking through life or busily burying our heads in the sand while all around us bad things are happening. From a slow erosion of human rights to an erosion of civility to an erosion of care for others to outright hostility toward those with whom we may disagree: we are becoming a world of beings lost in the three poisons.
We are afraid to say no and we are afraid to say yes. The common denominator is fear. We do not want to rock the boat. We do not want to be the one’s who others look at, the one’s on the front line.
When I think about it, I get a sick feeling. Segregation and racism are still with us. War has been a constant part of our lives. People are homeless, without medical care or coverage, and we do not trust our neighbors. Not much has changes since the days of Vietnam Veterans Against the War, Martin Luther King, and our efforts to end hunger and homelessness.
In this land of the free, we give up, and to be safe, we elect to live in cages. Where is a good Zen Master when you really need her?
Be well.
Tuesday, November 23, 2010
A Simple Person
With palms together
Good Morning Everyone,
“Zen asks you to be a simple person.” Matsuoka-roshi says. “It asks you to disregard notions about yourself, about others and about life which you may have acquired before you began seeking the truth of Zen.” (p.398, The Kyosaku)
For Matsuoka, a simple person is one who has let go of what he was, what he knows, and what he needs. He is a person who is just present, open, empty, and receptive to the teachings, which arise from him, from his teacher, and from the Buddha.
This is a ‘don’t know’ mind. The mind of one who sees clearly, but does not cling to what he sees. Very difficult this is for most of us. We want to hold onto our understanding. We want to discuss and debate and analyze. As we say in the south, we want to show ourselves. We might ask ourselves why.
The truth of Zen is in living Zen. It is in our humanity expressed through our daily lives. To behave in loud and aggressive ways reflects a mind that is needy. To behave in ways that are hurtful reveals a person suffering. As we practice, we begin to see the person we are. We should not run or hide from this person, but rather invite him for tea. In the process of getting to know ourselves, exercise great compassion and forgiveness. We cannot be these toward others without being these toward ourselves.
We do not get Zen from books. We get Zen from life. Zen books are helpful pointers, but the path pointed to must be walked. To put it simply, travel guides are not travel. My sense is the secret to a Zen life is in a willingness to receive. As Matsuoka-roshi quoted Nan-in,” …first you must empty your cup.”
Today at Clear Mind Zen Temple: 7:00 AM Zazen, 5:00 PM Dokusan, 6:00 PM Zen 101, 7:00 PM Zazen.
Be well.
Good Morning Everyone,
“Zen asks you to be a simple person.” Matsuoka-roshi says. “It asks you to disregard notions about yourself, about others and about life which you may have acquired before you began seeking the truth of Zen.” (p.398, The Kyosaku)
For Matsuoka, a simple person is one who has let go of what he was, what he knows, and what he needs. He is a person who is just present, open, empty, and receptive to the teachings, which arise from him, from his teacher, and from the Buddha.
This is a ‘don’t know’ mind. The mind of one who sees clearly, but does not cling to what he sees. Very difficult this is for most of us. We want to hold onto our understanding. We want to discuss and debate and analyze. As we say in the south, we want to show ourselves. We might ask ourselves why.
The truth of Zen is in living Zen. It is in our humanity expressed through our daily lives. To behave in loud and aggressive ways reflects a mind that is needy. To behave in ways that are hurtful reveals a person suffering. As we practice, we begin to see the person we are. We should not run or hide from this person, but rather invite him for tea. In the process of getting to know ourselves, exercise great compassion and forgiveness. We cannot be these toward others without being these toward ourselves.
We do not get Zen from books. We get Zen from life. Zen books are helpful pointers, but the path pointed to must be walked. To put it simply, travel guides are not travel. My sense is the secret to a Zen life is in a willingness to receive. As Matsuoka-roshi quoted Nan-in,” …first you must empty your cup.”
Today at Clear Mind Zen Temple: 7:00 AM Zazen, 5:00 PM Dokusan, 6:00 PM Zen 101, 7:00 PM Zazen.
Be well.
Monday, November 22, 2010
Thanksgiving
With palms together,
Good Evening Everyone,
The Clear Mind Zen Temple will offer a simple Thanksgiving dinner between 5:00 PM and 6:30 PM followed by a Thanksgiving Zen service at 7::00 PM. Our meal will be vegetarian. If you wish to bring a dish to share, it would be very welcome. Please email me your reservation.
Yours in the dharma,
Good Evening Everyone,
The Clear Mind Zen Temple will offer a simple Thanksgiving dinner between 5:00 PM and 6:30 PM followed by a Thanksgiving Zen service at 7::00 PM. Our meal will be vegetarian. If you wish to bring a dish to share, it would be very welcome. Please email me your reservation.
Yours in the dharma,
Evolution
With palms together
Good Morning Everyone,
Buddha sat under a tree and faced his fears. His adversary threw a world of hurt at him, but he did not budge. What did Buddha know that enabled him to live in such a way, in the open without doors, locks, security guards, or armies? His world included murderers, thieves, and sadists, didn’t it? Yet he chose not to lock himself away. Why?
When we live in fear, we are at fear’s mercy. When we live in suspicion, we live alone. This is not human. Human beings are, by definition, social beings. We depend on each other, nurture each other, and inspire each other: we should not define ourselves as individuals so much as community.
So, fear is a powerful enemy if we experience it, a powerful tool if we wield it. We have been groomed to respond to fear with artifices of protection: armies, police, and militia. Doors, double dead bolts, security systems, weapons, all provide us with a way of coping with fear. Remember though, coping is not dealing. The prehistoric, pre-human mechanism of fight or flight still engages us, short circuiting our reason and our heart. It’s all so natural. Not only do we want to live, we are hard-wired to survive. Yet, these mechanisms for survival are not useful tools in our evolution as human beings. In fact, as the Buddha knew, they are fetters.
As Karen Armstrong pointed out, Buddha wanted to establish a better way of being a human being. He was an anomaly: a single being showing us the way. He lived without fear because he understood, deeply understood, the fact that he did not exist as a solitary, individual being, he was Everybeing.
When we live as Everybeing, every being is us. Every being is to be cared for, loved, and understood. Living as One, there is no two. There is no singular, independent “I” to protect. Nothing for the singular, independent “I” to fear. We are free.
Practice letting go of that which you fear. Open your heart to that which you fear. Find a better way to be a human being. This is the Buddha Way.
Be well
Good Morning Everyone,
Buddha sat under a tree and faced his fears. His adversary threw a world of hurt at him, but he did not budge. What did Buddha know that enabled him to live in such a way, in the open without doors, locks, security guards, or armies? His world included murderers, thieves, and sadists, didn’t it? Yet he chose not to lock himself away. Why?
When we live in fear, we are at fear’s mercy. When we live in suspicion, we live alone. This is not human. Human beings are, by definition, social beings. We depend on each other, nurture each other, and inspire each other: we should not define ourselves as individuals so much as community.
So, fear is a powerful enemy if we experience it, a powerful tool if we wield it. We have been groomed to respond to fear with artifices of protection: armies, police, and militia. Doors, double dead bolts, security systems, weapons, all provide us with a way of coping with fear. Remember though, coping is not dealing. The prehistoric, pre-human mechanism of fight or flight still engages us, short circuiting our reason and our heart. It’s all so natural. Not only do we want to live, we are hard-wired to survive. Yet, these mechanisms for survival are not useful tools in our evolution as human beings. In fact, as the Buddha knew, they are fetters.
As Karen Armstrong pointed out, Buddha wanted to establish a better way of being a human being. He was an anomaly: a single being showing us the way. He lived without fear because he understood, deeply understood, the fact that he did not exist as a solitary, individual being, he was Everybeing.
When we live as Everybeing, every being is us. Every being is to be cared for, loved, and understood. Living as One, there is no two. There is no singular, independent “I” to protect. Nothing for the singular, independent “I” to fear. We are free.
Practice letting go of that which you fear. Open your heart to that which you fear. Find a better way to be a human being. This is the Buddha Way.
Be well
Sunday, November 21, 2010
Life
With palms together
Good Morning Everyone,
The morning light emerges from the dark and I find myself sitting quietly with it. I notice subtle changes expressed through body, speech, and mind. Sitting quietly, being witness, itself changes something in us. The act of just sitting is a deeply profound and life altering experience. It is the heart of the Buddha’s awakening. It is the complete teaching.
What is the teaching? “Things as it is,” says Shunryu Suzuki. What is this? Everyday life manifesting everyday life or, as Uchiyama suggests, self manifesting Self. We practice to live within it.
Just now, for me, this moment contains light. It contains the aftertaste of coffee in my mouth and the still chilled feeling of my bare feet that have not warmed since taking Suki out for her morning ‘business.’ To live within it requires us to notice the life we are, in fact, living. How is it for us? Is this breath enough? Do we cry for more? Want less? Worry about losing it? Gaining it?
For me, every thought, feeling, and sensation is a source of wonder and, more often than not, delight. I am just so thankful to be alive, grateful for being born a human being, and humbled by the gift of my practice.
Morning Zen at 9:00 at Clear Mind Zen Temple
Be well.
Good Morning Everyone,
The morning light emerges from the dark and I find myself sitting quietly with it. I notice subtle changes expressed through body, speech, and mind. Sitting quietly, being witness, itself changes something in us. The act of just sitting is a deeply profound and life altering experience. It is the heart of the Buddha’s awakening. It is the complete teaching.
What is the teaching? “Things as it is,” says Shunryu Suzuki. What is this? Everyday life manifesting everyday life or, as Uchiyama suggests, self manifesting Self. We practice to live within it.
Just now, for me, this moment contains light. It contains the aftertaste of coffee in my mouth and the still chilled feeling of my bare feet that have not warmed since taking Suki out for her morning ‘business.’ To live within it requires us to notice the life we are, in fact, living. How is it for us? Is this breath enough? Do we cry for more? Want less? Worry about losing it? Gaining it?
For me, every thought, feeling, and sensation is a source of wonder and, more often than not, delight. I am just so thankful to be alive, grateful for being born a human being, and humbled by the gift of my practice.
Morning Zen at 9:00 at Clear Mind Zen Temple
Be well.
Saturday, November 20, 2010
Matsuoka Day
With palms together
Good Morning Everyone,
What to keep, what to let go of? What to revere, what to dismiss? When traveling to another country to offer the dharma, what would you bring? What would you leave behind? I recall a film or TV show from my childhood where the last scene involved such a question, if it was the end of the world and you were escaping to establish humanity on another planet, what single book would you bring?
Rev. Dr. Zengaku Soyu Matsuoka-roshi was one of the first Japanese Zen Masters who were dispatched by Soto Shu headquarters in Japan to face this choice as he entered the United States. In 1949, Matsuoka-roshi established the Chicago Zen Buddhist Temple, the first Soto Zen Temple to be established in the United States.
Zengaku Matsuoka-roshi was a powerhouse Zen Master, a black belt, he often travelled across America introducing Zen Buddhism wherever he could. He established Zen Centers across the US. Although all of this is true, his pioneer work was eclipsed by the later stellar growth of the Zen Centers in San Francisco and Las Angeles.
Matsuoka-roshi tried to remain true to his mission as he understood it: to introduce and create an American form of Zen. He modified the forms and ceremonies, making them far less ostentatious and monastic. He recognized the lay nature of Zen in America. He thought the temple forms in Japan were correct for Japan but too “fussy” for America (quote from Kozen Sampson).
I fear though that the temptation of successors who feel the need to look to Japan to legitimate their Zen has, and will, result in an abandonment of their founder’s mission here in the US. From my point of view, this is an abandonment of true Zen, as well. We are not Japanese monastics. We are American lay Zen Centers. Lay practice in America must find itself. Its forms and ceremonies must have meaning to American hearts and minds and not be dress-up versions of Temples continents away.
So, on this Founder’s Day, the day we honor our founding teacher, Zengaku Soyu Matsuoka-roshi, I would invite us to look deeply into what we are actually all about. I invite you to study Matsuoka’s teachings before you make judgments of him. Recently, the Atlanta Soto Zen Temple under the direction of Taiun Elliston published two collections of Matsuoka’s Dharma talks. They are a special gift to us today. Please consider ordering one or both of them. Go here: http://www.lulu.com/aszcpublications
Be well.
Good Morning Everyone,
What to keep, what to let go of? What to revere, what to dismiss? When traveling to another country to offer the dharma, what would you bring? What would you leave behind? I recall a film or TV show from my childhood where the last scene involved such a question, if it was the end of the world and you were escaping to establish humanity on another planet, what single book would you bring?
Rev. Dr. Zengaku Soyu Matsuoka-roshi was one of the first Japanese Zen Masters who were dispatched by Soto Shu headquarters in Japan to face this choice as he entered the United States. In 1949, Matsuoka-roshi established the Chicago Zen Buddhist Temple, the first Soto Zen Temple to be established in the United States.
Zengaku Matsuoka-roshi was a powerhouse Zen Master, a black belt, he often travelled across America introducing Zen Buddhism wherever he could. He established Zen Centers across the US. Although all of this is true, his pioneer work was eclipsed by the later stellar growth of the Zen Centers in San Francisco and Las Angeles.
Matsuoka-roshi tried to remain true to his mission as he understood it: to introduce and create an American form of Zen. He modified the forms and ceremonies, making them far less ostentatious and monastic. He recognized the lay nature of Zen in America. He thought the temple forms in Japan were correct for Japan but too “fussy” for America (quote from Kozen Sampson).
I fear though that the temptation of successors who feel the need to look to Japan to legitimate their Zen has, and will, result in an abandonment of their founder’s mission here in the US. From my point of view, this is an abandonment of true Zen, as well. We are not Japanese monastics. We are American lay Zen Centers. Lay practice in America must find itself. Its forms and ceremonies must have meaning to American hearts and minds and not be dress-up versions of Temples continents away.
So, on this Founder’s Day, the day we honor our founding teacher, Zengaku Soyu Matsuoka-roshi, I would invite us to look deeply into what we are actually all about. I invite you to study Matsuoka’s teachings before you make judgments of him. Recently, the Atlanta Soto Zen Temple under the direction of Taiun Elliston published two collections of Matsuoka’s Dharma talks. They are a special gift to us today. Please consider ordering one or both of them. Go here: http://www.lulu.com/aszcpublications
Be well.
Friday, November 19, 2010
Stress
With palms together
Good Morning Everyone,
Stress is a powerful experience of thoughts colliding. We concern ourselves with what might happen, imagining all sorts of things, and come, sometimes, to a place of utter paralysis. Under such conditions we are rather like the proverbial deer in the headlights: stopped dead in our tracks, staring right at the danger, and completely unable to move. At such times, it is important to open our so-called third eye.
Our third eye is the eye of wisdom. It is the eye that sees the entire universe. It is the eye that places all things in the larger context. When seeing with this eye we can ask ourselves critical questions because the pressure is off. Third eye is the eye of Big Mind, expansive and infinite; it can help us see what is really important and what is not.
Maybe it’s not so much the third eye that allows this view, but perhaps instead, it is the backward step we take in order to open it. Taking the backward step is the Zen way of stopping, opening, and contextualizing. In this step we become Teflon mind. We experience everything, but nothing sticks.
We deliberately settle ourselves, open ourselves to our breath, and experience just being in our seat. Thoughts and feelings come; thoughts and feelings go. The third eye opens and we are immediately at ease: No hindrance of the mind, therefore no fear. Our heart may now open and experience with great compassion this moment as it is.
What is most important in this moment is this moment itself. I am grateful for it.
Be well.
Today: 9:00 Zazen in Veteran's Park, 4:00 Zen Discussion Group, 5:30 Zazen
Good Morning Everyone,
Stress is a powerful experience of thoughts colliding. We concern ourselves with what might happen, imagining all sorts of things, and come, sometimes, to a place of utter paralysis. Under such conditions we are rather like the proverbial deer in the headlights: stopped dead in our tracks, staring right at the danger, and completely unable to move. At such times, it is important to open our so-called third eye.
Our third eye is the eye of wisdom. It is the eye that sees the entire universe. It is the eye that places all things in the larger context. When seeing with this eye we can ask ourselves critical questions because the pressure is off. Third eye is the eye of Big Mind, expansive and infinite; it can help us see what is really important and what is not.
Maybe it’s not so much the third eye that allows this view, but perhaps instead, it is the backward step we take in order to open it. Taking the backward step is the Zen way of stopping, opening, and contextualizing. In this step we become Teflon mind. We experience everything, but nothing sticks.
We deliberately settle ourselves, open ourselves to our breath, and experience just being in our seat. Thoughts and feelings come; thoughts and feelings go. The third eye opens and we are immediately at ease: No hindrance of the mind, therefore no fear. Our heart may now open and experience with great compassion this moment as it is.
What is most important in this moment is this moment itself. I am grateful for it.
Be well.
Today: 9:00 Zazen in Veteran's Park, 4:00 Zen Discussion Group, 5:30 Zazen
Thursday, November 18, 2010
A Day
With palms together
Good Morning Everyone,
Tuesday night we had our first Zen 101 group meeting. I was not happy with myself. I spoke far too much. We love to talk about Zen, don’t we? Good grief. The good news is that after all the talking we sat for two periods.
Wednesday morning the Zendo is empty. I sat in the quiet and joined its emptiness. There is only this space, you know, and my breath kept me close to home. With it, I centered myself in the here and now.
Just as yesterday is but a memory and tomorrow a dream, this moment is a fiction as well. Anything I might say about it is not it. Yet words come from deep inside. It can be lonely inside our heads. Words invite thinking and thoughts become company.
We try to escape our present-moment-self with words and ideas. Rather like making things up as we go, our universe unfolds in our mind’s eye. Yet, our way is not to escape, but rather, to live each moment as it comes and as it presents itself as it is. So, we notice our thoughts, notice our feelings, and let them go.
So, during the day yesterday I dealt with banks. I dealt with social security, and I dealt with my feelings. They are now gone and I remain.
Today: 7:00 AM Zazen, 12:00 Clergy Luncheon, 5:00 PM Dokusan with Student Shoji, 7:00 PM Zazen.
All the while, through the day, we will finish building small tans (raised platforms) for oryoki (eating meditation).
Be well.
Good Morning Everyone,
Tuesday night we had our first Zen 101 group meeting. I was not happy with myself. I spoke far too much. We love to talk about Zen, don’t we? Good grief. The good news is that after all the talking we sat for two periods.
Wednesday morning the Zendo is empty. I sat in the quiet and joined its emptiness. There is only this space, you know, and my breath kept me close to home. With it, I centered myself in the here and now.
Just as yesterday is but a memory and tomorrow a dream, this moment is a fiction as well. Anything I might say about it is not it. Yet words come from deep inside. It can be lonely inside our heads. Words invite thinking and thoughts become company.
We try to escape our present-moment-self with words and ideas. Rather like making things up as we go, our universe unfolds in our mind’s eye. Yet, our way is not to escape, but rather, to live each moment as it comes and as it presents itself as it is. So, we notice our thoughts, notice our feelings, and let them go.
So, during the day yesterday I dealt with banks. I dealt with social security, and I dealt with my feelings. They are now gone and I remain.
Today: 7:00 AM Zazen, 12:00 Clergy Luncheon, 5:00 PM Dokusan with Student Shoji, 7:00 PM Zazen.
All the while, through the day, we will finish building small tans (raised platforms) for oryoki (eating meditation).
Be well.
Monday, November 15, 2010
Jailer
With palms together
Good Morning Everyone,
This morning I woke vowing not only to free beings from suffering, but also to write a morning message to you. This business of vowing to free all beings even though they are numberless has been a thread of conversation between me and disciple Dai Shugyo of late. What does this vow mean? How can this be done?
I say, “Show me a piece of paper with only one side!” Nothing comes out of his mouth. A good start.
When we focus our attention on the words, we are going in the wrong direction. Yet words and their meaning are our way of communicating. Yes, I agree. They are one way, but not the only way and often the words are less a communication of something than an invitation to something. In this case, an invitation to move our mind.
Where is your mind? If it is on freeing, it is in jail. If it is on doing, it is in jail. If it is on numberless beings, it is also in jail. If I ask you to show me a piece of paper with only one side and you place your mind on sides, it’s in jail. If it is on paper, it’s in jail. So, what is jail?
The Buddha looked directly at his jailor and named him, but it wasn’t the naming itself that freed him, it was his actualization of the jailor himself that released both he and his jailor. When we actualize freedom, when we actualize non-duality, we release ourselves: there is paper with no sides, indeed, there is no paper. There is the place where numberless beings are free, as indeed, no beings exist there to be freed.
Beings are numberless, I vow to free them.
Good Morning Everyone,
This morning I woke vowing not only to free beings from suffering, but also to write a morning message to you. This business of vowing to free all beings even though they are numberless has been a thread of conversation between me and disciple Dai Shugyo of late. What does this vow mean? How can this be done?
I say, “Show me a piece of paper with only one side!” Nothing comes out of his mouth. A good start.
When we focus our attention on the words, we are going in the wrong direction. Yet words and their meaning are our way of communicating. Yes, I agree. They are one way, but not the only way and often the words are less a communication of something than an invitation to something. In this case, an invitation to move our mind.
Where is your mind? If it is on freeing, it is in jail. If it is on doing, it is in jail. If it is on numberless beings, it is also in jail. If I ask you to show me a piece of paper with only one side and you place your mind on sides, it’s in jail. If it is on paper, it’s in jail. So, what is jail?
The Buddha looked directly at his jailor and named him, but it wasn’t the naming itself that freed him, it was his actualization of the jailor himself that released both he and his jailor. When we actualize freedom, when we actualize non-duality, we release ourselves: there is paper with no sides, indeed, there is no paper. There is the place where numberless beings are free, as indeed, no beings exist there to be freed.
Beings are numberless, I vow to free them.
Saturday, November 13, 2010
Function?
With palms together
Good Morning Everyone,
Interesting. Yesterday afternoon’s Zen Discussion group seemed to be caught on the question, “what is our function?” Most leaned toward survival and safety as first priorities and that is an understandable point of view. Many warriors, including Buddhist warriors, and myself, have made this claim. Yet, today I am not so sure. It depends on how we understand survival and safety.
More often than not, when we talk about personal survival and safety, we create an imaginary scenario wherein someone might attack us and threaten our lives and well-being. We often simplify the picture by using early man scenarios. Oddly enough, these scenarios almost always use hunter models where weapons are involved and present in the scenario, rather than an agrarian model where the gathering and growing food demands cooperation for survival. Cooperation becomes the definition of protection itself and survival depends on mutual aid.
Someone always raises the, “if someone punches me” scenario (as if that is a likely or imminent threat). In truth, I have only been punched once in my entire life and I am 63 years old. Do I really need to think about how to protect myself from an assault such as that? Should this be my baseline understanding of our nature? I wonder what would happen if no one locked their doors and no one had guns. Those of us who say there would be reckless abandon, total chaos, and the like, might check their views of human nature here. What if you knew your neighbor routinely did not lock her doors? Would you sneak in and steal? Would you sneak in and assault her? You say, “well, what about street thugs and the like?” I say, what about them? A lock will really help? And people are far more likely to use a gun against a person they know than a stranger.
The thing is, today we are neither hunters nor are we gatherers. We are not individuals nor are we tribes. We are, arguably, not even nation-states. Rather, we are an immense network of interdependent and interconnected beings. We are an organic system and such a system requires open channels of energy flow. Organic systems are dependent on environmental conditions. Organic systems are dependent on cooperation. Organic systems are dependent on each sub-system recognizing its relationship to every other subsystem, Changes in one part of the system affect all other parts of the system. Survival and safety take on very different meanings in such a context.
Oddly for me, in graduate school where we were taught systems theory as a model for understanding social systems, I argued against it. It was not existential enough for me. But existentialism is dualism dependent. It requires a self to be defining itself in contradistinction to others.
Through my practice, I have come to realize there is no self to define and that any such attempt is an artifice of mind. A Buddhist understanding of reality is a systems understanding with the added dimension of complete impermanence, which includes the system itself.
So, when we talk about our function, and thoughts of survival and safety arise, what do we really asking?
Be well.
Good Morning Everyone,
Interesting. Yesterday afternoon’s Zen Discussion group seemed to be caught on the question, “what is our function?” Most leaned toward survival and safety as first priorities and that is an understandable point of view. Many warriors, including Buddhist warriors, and myself, have made this claim. Yet, today I am not so sure. It depends on how we understand survival and safety.
More often than not, when we talk about personal survival and safety, we create an imaginary scenario wherein someone might attack us and threaten our lives and well-being. We often simplify the picture by using early man scenarios. Oddly enough, these scenarios almost always use hunter models where weapons are involved and present in the scenario, rather than an agrarian model where the gathering and growing food demands cooperation for survival. Cooperation becomes the definition of protection itself and survival depends on mutual aid.
Someone always raises the, “if someone punches me” scenario (as if that is a likely or imminent threat). In truth, I have only been punched once in my entire life and I am 63 years old. Do I really need to think about how to protect myself from an assault such as that? Should this be my baseline understanding of our nature? I wonder what would happen if no one locked their doors and no one had guns. Those of us who say there would be reckless abandon, total chaos, and the like, might check their views of human nature here. What if you knew your neighbor routinely did not lock her doors? Would you sneak in and steal? Would you sneak in and assault her? You say, “well, what about street thugs and the like?” I say, what about them? A lock will really help? And people are far more likely to use a gun against a person they know than a stranger.
The thing is, today we are neither hunters nor are we gatherers. We are not individuals nor are we tribes. We are, arguably, not even nation-states. Rather, we are an immense network of interdependent and interconnected beings. We are an organic system and such a system requires open channels of energy flow. Organic systems are dependent on environmental conditions. Organic systems are dependent on cooperation. Organic systems are dependent on each sub-system recognizing its relationship to every other subsystem, Changes in one part of the system affect all other parts of the system. Survival and safety take on very different meanings in such a context.
Oddly for me, in graduate school where we were taught systems theory as a model for understanding social systems, I argued against it. It was not existential enough for me. But existentialism is dualism dependent. It requires a self to be defining itself in contradistinction to others.
Through my practice, I have come to realize there is no self to define and that any such attempt is an artifice of mind. A Buddhist understanding of reality is a systems understanding with the added dimension of complete impermanence, which includes the system itself.
So, when we talk about our function, and thoughts of survival and safety arise, what do we really asking?
Be well.
Friday, November 12, 2010
A few questions
With palms together
Good Morning Everyone,
Zen Master Seung Sahn asks, “What is our function?”
Let’s look around. A table I am writing on is made from the wood of a tree killed in the forest. The food in my refrigerator was grown and killed for me to purchase. The clothes I am wearing, the fibers, the dye, the weave, all done on a massive scale, shipped to my store in boats, trucks, and trains. The air I am breathing is filtered. The water I drink is processed and then filtered. The coffee comes from large plantations grown on what was rain forest. Yes, when I look around, it would seem my function is to use and not just use, but also to use in excess and at any cost. Who am I that this is should be the case? Am I alone in this abuse? No. At last count (a few seconds ago, according to the World Population Clock) there were 6,855,134,658 persons on this planet. Who are we that this should be the case?
Is using the planet and its resources truly our function or are we simply out of control? Do we just not know how to live simply and without excess? Would we want to?
How much do we really need to live well? Do we need two or three cars? Do we need two or three or four pairs of shoes? Do we need to eat in excess to the point that our girth expands at the rate of the population of our species? No. We want this. Is this our function, to want? To want so badly and so mindlessly that we are willing to end life as we know it on planet Earth?
I consider this question often. I am often speechless.
Good Morning Everyone,
Zen Master Seung Sahn asks, “What is our function?”
Let’s look around. A table I am writing on is made from the wood of a tree killed in the forest. The food in my refrigerator was grown and killed for me to purchase. The clothes I am wearing, the fibers, the dye, the weave, all done on a massive scale, shipped to my store in boats, trucks, and trains. The air I am breathing is filtered. The water I drink is processed and then filtered. The coffee comes from large plantations grown on what was rain forest. Yes, when I look around, it would seem my function is to use and not just use, but also to use in excess and at any cost. Who am I that this is should be the case? Am I alone in this abuse? No. At last count (a few seconds ago, according to the World Population Clock) there were 6,855,134,658 persons on this planet. Who are we that this should be the case?
Is using the planet and its resources truly our function or are we simply out of control? Do we just not know how to live simply and without excess? Would we want to?
How much do we really need to live well? Do we need two or three cars? Do we need two or three or four pairs of shoes? Do we need to eat in excess to the point that our girth expands at the rate of the population of our species? No. We want this. Is this our function, to want? To want so badly and so mindlessly that we are willing to end life as we know it on planet Earth?
I consider this question often. I am often speechless.
Thursday, November 11, 2010
Compass
With palms together
Good Morning Everyone,
Sitting down to write about Zen is a strange this to do. There is nothing to be said. Every word is a lie as it is the true nature of words to deceive us. They are always mere representations. Not the thing themselves. When we are asleep we fail to see this. When awake, we say nothing: Awake is the realm of doing.
Our Temple will be taking up the study of the text, “The Compass of Zen” in our weekly discussion group this Friday at 4:00 PM. The text is a book developed over the years by Zen Master Seung Sahn. I have enjoyed this text myself over the years. It is a clear, direct dharma gate in itself.
Who are we? What are we here for? What are we to do? These are his questions and he takes us through the many layers of Buddha’s way to get to center. He assists us in our effort to see what our next step actually is, not what we think it ought to be.
Please consider joining us as we enter the Compass.
Be well.
Good Morning Everyone,
Sitting down to write about Zen is a strange this to do. There is nothing to be said. Every word is a lie as it is the true nature of words to deceive us. They are always mere representations. Not the thing themselves. When we are asleep we fail to see this. When awake, we say nothing: Awake is the realm of doing.
Our Temple will be taking up the study of the text, “The Compass of Zen” in our weekly discussion group this Friday at 4:00 PM. The text is a book developed over the years by Zen Master Seung Sahn. I have enjoyed this text myself over the years. It is a clear, direct dharma gate in itself.
Who are we? What are we here for? What are we to do? These are his questions and he takes us through the many layers of Buddha’s way to get to center. He assists us in our effort to see what our next step actually is, not what we think it ought to be.
Please consider joining us as we enter the Compass.
Be well.
Monday, November 08, 2010
Considerations
With palms together
Good Morning Everyone,
In the beginning, God spoke, and everything came into being. Or so they say.
In such a view, God stands outside of time, but since time and being are one, this could not be. So being happened and with it, God came into existence. Consider this.
We ask, well what caused being to happen? We answer nothing. Before being happened, nothing existed, including time. Cause, therefore, also could not have existed. Consider this.
We say, well there was the original material of the universe. We answer, can anything “be” without a perception? In the instant the universe appeared, cosmic consciousness appeared and with it, matter appeared. Consider this.
In the relative view, we are but a part of an infinite network of connections which gives rise to the view of no parts, just one. When we reside in no parts, wholeness, parts, and everything else drops away. What is left?
Just this.
Good Morning Everyone,
In the beginning, God spoke, and everything came into being. Or so they say.
In such a view, God stands outside of time, but since time and being are one, this could not be. So being happened and with it, God came into existence. Consider this.
We ask, well what caused being to happen? We answer nothing. Before being happened, nothing existed, including time. Cause, therefore, also could not have existed. Consider this.
We say, well there was the original material of the universe. We answer, can anything “be” without a perception? In the instant the universe appeared, cosmic consciousness appeared and with it, matter appeared. Consider this.
In the relative view, we are but a part of an infinite network of connections which gives rise to the view of no parts, just one. When we reside in no parts, wholeness, parts, and everything else drops away. What is left?
Just this.
Sunday, November 07, 2010
Life
With palms together
Good Morning Everyone,
“The dharma is incomparably profound and minutely subtle…” I have been chanting this nearly daily for some time now. I have come to realize life is like that, the dharma. Actually, life is the dharma: Life unpolished, life without our fine gloss. Just life as it is: nothing special. This is the profound aspect of the dharma. And its subtlety is the very thing it uses to hide itself. A delicate membrane of ignorance covers our eyes of its truth. A persistent membrane, one that keeps rebuilding itself, over and over and over again until our practice reveals that both the gross and the fine are one and there is no membrane, no ignorance, and no wisdom. Indeed, there is no dharma.
We like being contained in this membrane. It helps us feel safe. We feel in control. We feel we know what’s what. It’s a warm and moist place. Who really would want to leave it? Like living in a holographic world where we are exactly what we think we want to be and everyone and everything is just right: who would really want to abandon such a place?
Some of us, though, have either torn that membrane a bit, had it torn for us, exposing it for what it is, or have “aroused the thought” of such. For us, the membrane has been exposed and we have a sense of the true dharma. We no longer are of the “membrane world,” but can see the complete wonder of being free and easy in the world as it is.
Life, as it is, is just right.
Good Morning Everyone,
“The dharma is incomparably profound and minutely subtle…” I have been chanting this nearly daily for some time now. I have come to realize life is like that, the dharma. Actually, life is the dharma: Life unpolished, life without our fine gloss. Just life as it is: nothing special. This is the profound aspect of the dharma. And its subtlety is the very thing it uses to hide itself. A delicate membrane of ignorance covers our eyes of its truth. A persistent membrane, one that keeps rebuilding itself, over and over and over again until our practice reveals that both the gross and the fine are one and there is no membrane, no ignorance, and no wisdom. Indeed, there is no dharma.
We like being contained in this membrane. It helps us feel safe. We feel in control. We feel we know what’s what. It’s a warm and moist place. Who really would want to leave it? Like living in a holographic world where we are exactly what we think we want to be and everyone and everything is just right: who would really want to abandon such a place?
Some of us, though, have either torn that membrane a bit, had it torn for us, exposing it for what it is, or have “aroused the thought” of such. For us, the membrane has been exposed and we have a sense of the true dharma. We no longer are of the “membrane world,” but can see the complete wonder of being free and easy in the world as it is.
Life, as it is, is just right.
Saturday, November 06, 2010
Ceremony
With palms together
Good Morning Everyone,
Ceremony is an interesting thing. We Americans appear to both love and hate it. We are suspect of rules, forms, and expectations, yet on the other hand, we seem to take particular pleasure in witnessing others in ceremony. Opening ceremonies, closing ceremonies: we love to play dress-up if only to watch others go through the motions. When asked to participate, however, we seem hesitant, awkward, or sometimes just plain hostile.
Those who come to Zen are often quite surprised by our ceremonial forms and rituals. I don’t know, but it seems people think we are a rag-tag, iconoclastic bunch of misfits and so, when they come into a Temple and are asked to remove their shoes, place their hands in special positions, and even bow, well, my goodness, they often just don’t know what to say. “Do we really need ceremony?” We suddenly ask. “I don’t feel comfortable,” another might argue.
Why do we have so many forms? Why ceremonies at all? The short answer is simple and direct: forms and ceremonies keep us intact. Without them we are like chess pieces without a board or a box. We might bristle at this, but it is so. Maps guide us, boundaries aid us, cup and tea are symbiotic. Even if we reject all forms (which is impossible to do and still remain human), in our formlessness we seek form. People want and need to know what the next step is.
If we had no forms, no ceremonies, no rituals, people would create them, demand them, and still complain about them in the process. Forms actually free us. In them we are no longer wondering what to do next, but rather, have a place to put our mind’s eye. Life demands this. Awakened life is this.
Interestingly, Maezumi-roshi suggested in a talk he did that ceremony has a healing function. He says, “Ceremony means to do things orderly. To take care of things in a healthy way. It is a healing process itself.” With form, order, and proper attention, we protect ourselves and show respect for both ourselves and Zen.
One last point, it is important to note that showing respect for something or someone is a mechanism for caring. No respect, no care, and the problem with a lack of care is that things uncared for fall apart.
Be well
Quote from Maezumi-roshi’s Teachings of the Great Mountain.
Good Morning Everyone,
Ceremony is an interesting thing. We Americans appear to both love and hate it. We are suspect of rules, forms, and expectations, yet on the other hand, we seem to take particular pleasure in witnessing others in ceremony. Opening ceremonies, closing ceremonies: we love to play dress-up if only to watch others go through the motions. When asked to participate, however, we seem hesitant, awkward, or sometimes just plain hostile.
Those who come to Zen are often quite surprised by our ceremonial forms and rituals. I don’t know, but it seems people think we are a rag-tag, iconoclastic bunch of misfits and so, when they come into a Temple and are asked to remove their shoes, place their hands in special positions, and even bow, well, my goodness, they often just don’t know what to say. “Do we really need ceremony?” We suddenly ask. “I don’t feel comfortable,” another might argue.
Why do we have so many forms? Why ceremonies at all? The short answer is simple and direct: forms and ceremonies keep us intact. Without them we are like chess pieces without a board or a box. We might bristle at this, but it is so. Maps guide us, boundaries aid us, cup and tea are symbiotic. Even if we reject all forms (which is impossible to do and still remain human), in our formlessness we seek form. People want and need to know what the next step is.
If we had no forms, no ceremonies, no rituals, people would create them, demand them, and still complain about them in the process. Forms actually free us. In them we are no longer wondering what to do next, but rather, have a place to put our mind’s eye. Life demands this. Awakened life is this.
Interestingly, Maezumi-roshi suggested in a talk he did that ceremony has a healing function. He says, “Ceremony means to do things orderly. To take care of things in a healthy way. It is a healing process itself.” With form, order, and proper attention, we protect ourselves and show respect for both ourselves and Zen.
One last point, it is important to note that showing respect for something or someone is a mechanism for caring. No respect, no care, and the problem with a lack of care is that things uncared for fall apart.
Be well
Quote from Maezumi-roshi’s Teachings of the Great Mountain.
Friday, November 05, 2010
Patience
With palms together
Good Morning Everyone,
Life has its ways of demanding that we pay attention.
After three refrigerators and several repairs of refrigerators, it seems the refrigerators were not the problem, but the receptacle in which they were plugged was faulty. My chess rating was three hundred points higher than it is now and I just got beat twice by someone who was likely ten years old and who behaved like it. When bills are not paid, someone will try to collect on them. In each case, someone was not paying attention and in the end some sort of bell was invited to ring.
What is interesting to me is the sound of that bell.
Is it a soft and gentle bell, a loud bell, a sharp and jarring bell? What are my responses to these bells?
Last night I offered a dharma talk on the kshanti paramita, that is, the perfection of patience. When we practice patience, we must open ourselves and allow the bell, of whatever type, to ring. We must allow the bell to teach us.
When beaten by a brat was I a brat in return? Did bratness trigger bratness? And when I learned I needed to pay much closer attention to who owes what to whom and when, how did I respond?
When we practice mindful patience, there is only the moment in which we are in. We practice to open that moment and reside fully and completely there. Self falls away and our presence is available completely to, and for, the situation. Internal dialogue becomes a teacher. What are we saying to ourselves? Can we see it, experience it, accept it? Can we smile at ourselves, forgive ourselves, and gently take whatever action is necessary?
May many bells continue to ring
Their sweet sound
Is everything.
Good Morning Everyone,
Life has its ways of demanding that we pay attention.
After three refrigerators and several repairs of refrigerators, it seems the refrigerators were not the problem, but the receptacle in which they were plugged was faulty. My chess rating was three hundred points higher than it is now and I just got beat twice by someone who was likely ten years old and who behaved like it. When bills are not paid, someone will try to collect on them. In each case, someone was not paying attention and in the end some sort of bell was invited to ring.
What is interesting to me is the sound of that bell.
Is it a soft and gentle bell, a loud bell, a sharp and jarring bell? What are my responses to these bells?
Last night I offered a dharma talk on the kshanti paramita, that is, the perfection of patience. When we practice patience, we must open ourselves and allow the bell, of whatever type, to ring. We must allow the bell to teach us.
When beaten by a brat was I a brat in return? Did bratness trigger bratness? And when I learned I needed to pay much closer attention to who owes what to whom and when, how did I respond?
When we practice mindful patience, there is only the moment in which we are in. We practice to open that moment and reside fully and completely there. Self falls away and our presence is available completely to, and for, the situation. Internal dialogue becomes a teacher. What are we saying to ourselves? Can we see it, experience it, accept it? Can we smile at ourselves, forgive ourselves, and gently take whatever action is necessary?
May many bells continue to ring
Their sweet sound
Is everything.
Thursday, November 04, 2010
A Mess
With palms together
Good Morning Everyone,
Recently at Clear Mind Zen Temple, we have been discussing elements of the Diamond Sutra. I have been using Dwight Goddard’s selection from his, “A Buddhist’s Bible,” as I like how he re-ordered the text so that the paramitas come together.
This sutra is a powerful teaching tool. But it is very subtle and so much is missed by a superficial reading. Moreover, the sutra teaches how we are to manifest ourselves as the dharma, rather than talk about it (not that talking about the dharma is a bad thing, but rather, talking is just talking, and as Buddha himself points out in the sutra, words are just words: they ought not be confused with the actualization of what the words point to). The sutra is all about us showing what is naturally there in our behavior.
I really needed to refresh myself with this sutra yesterday. It seems a number of things came together all at once. Our altar’s “stage” was installed, the refrigerator and stove were replaced, and T’ai Chi Chih and Zazen collided with these. Zazen was delayed 10 minutes. Everything was a mess!
During everything that goes on in our lives, the practice of patience (khanti paramita) resides between our mind’s eye and our breath. How will we ever get that refrigerator in and the other out? Relax and let it go. In statistics, we used to say, “just work the problem.” Added thoughts and feelings regarding the problem are distractions, like thoughts during zazen. Our practice is to be our practice.
Everything worked out. The bell that starts the day will ring soon. Be well.
Good Morning Everyone,
Recently at Clear Mind Zen Temple, we have been discussing elements of the Diamond Sutra. I have been using Dwight Goddard’s selection from his, “A Buddhist’s Bible,” as I like how he re-ordered the text so that the paramitas come together.
This sutra is a powerful teaching tool. But it is very subtle and so much is missed by a superficial reading. Moreover, the sutra teaches how we are to manifest ourselves as the dharma, rather than talk about it (not that talking about the dharma is a bad thing, but rather, talking is just talking, and as Buddha himself points out in the sutra, words are just words: they ought not be confused with the actualization of what the words point to). The sutra is all about us showing what is naturally there in our behavior.
I really needed to refresh myself with this sutra yesterday. It seems a number of things came together all at once. Our altar’s “stage” was installed, the refrigerator and stove were replaced, and T’ai Chi Chih and Zazen collided with these. Zazen was delayed 10 minutes. Everything was a mess!
During everything that goes on in our lives, the practice of patience (khanti paramita) resides between our mind’s eye and our breath. How will we ever get that refrigerator in and the other out? Relax and let it go. In statistics, we used to say, “just work the problem.” Added thoughts and feelings regarding the problem are distractions, like thoughts during zazen. Our practice is to be our practice.
Everything worked out. The bell that starts the day will ring soon. Be well.
Tuesday, November 02, 2010
Today
With palms together
Good Morning Everyone,
This morning was a chilly 46 degrees. I woke very early as a result of my good ‘ole left leg jumping up and down in my sleep. So, at 2:00 AM I finished laundry, put dishes away, and stitched a tear in a robe. I dropped back to sleep at about 4:00 and woke again at 5:00. Zazen was quiet. There was no one in the Zendo but myself. Last night, as well. I enjoy this quiet time very much, perhaps too much. Zazen is neither enjoyable nor not enjoyable. It is just zazen. Practice is just practice. It is nothing but being present, adding nothing, talking nothing away.
Later in the morning, after voting and after making and eating breakfast, I spent some time at the orthotics place and had my new brace fitted. I found a pair of Asics gels for $40.00 and as very pleased that the brace and shoes are now fitted together. Perhaps now I will be able to run without too much ado. My prosthetic guy, Robert, is great. We spent a lot of time working on the fit and talking about the general state of affairs in the medical world.
Robert says caring is a chief casualty, apparently, of the new medical world. Money is the driver, documentation a chief second. Docs so often walk in with a recorder in hand, make constant notes, and leave with only the most brief contact with the patient. Time is not of the essence, it is the essence…and, of course, we need evidence of the visit (and what transpired) so that third parties will pay. The truth is, nothing actually transpires. Observation, deduction, and prescription: 5-10 minutes. Care gets lost in the shuffle.
So, I listen to him, nod, and offer my support. It is what I can do. Robert then invites me to an amputee group this afternoon. I will go and listen, offering what care I can. May we each be a blessing in the universe.
Good Morning Everyone,
This morning was a chilly 46 degrees. I woke very early as a result of my good ‘ole left leg jumping up and down in my sleep. So, at 2:00 AM I finished laundry, put dishes away, and stitched a tear in a robe. I dropped back to sleep at about 4:00 and woke again at 5:00. Zazen was quiet. There was no one in the Zendo but myself. Last night, as well. I enjoy this quiet time very much, perhaps too much. Zazen is neither enjoyable nor not enjoyable. It is just zazen. Practice is just practice. It is nothing but being present, adding nothing, talking nothing away.
Later in the morning, after voting and after making and eating breakfast, I spent some time at the orthotics place and had my new brace fitted. I found a pair of Asics gels for $40.00 and as very pleased that the brace and shoes are now fitted together. Perhaps now I will be able to run without too much ado. My prosthetic guy, Robert, is great. We spent a lot of time working on the fit and talking about the general state of affairs in the medical world.
Robert says caring is a chief casualty, apparently, of the new medical world. Money is the driver, documentation a chief second. Docs so often walk in with a recorder in hand, make constant notes, and leave with only the most brief contact with the patient. Time is not of the essence, it is the essence…and, of course, we need evidence of the visit (and what transpired) so that third parties will pay. The truth is, nothing actually transpires. Observation, deduction, and prescription: 5-10 minutes. Care gets lost in the shuffle.
So, I listen to him, nod, and offer my support. It is what I can do. Robert then invites me to an amputee group this afternoon. I will go and listen, offering what care I can. May we each be a blessing in the universe.
Monday, November 01, 2010
The Non-duality Rag
With palms together
Good Morning Everyone,
The Non-duality Rag
So, this morning a cold wind
slipped across my skin
from the open window.
I snuggled with Suki.
She, too, seemed to feel it
and sought the warmth
of my body.
We care.
That is a good thing.
Last night
I watched a documentary
by the Dalai Lama
on the Four Noble Truths.
In his introductory comments,
as he so often does,
he said every world religion
has the potential to create nice human beings.
He defined this “nice”
as being caring and compassionate.
Yes, our practice
is to manifest care and compassion.
We are nice.
Such a way of being
requires others.
Without others,
no compassion is possible.
Without others,
no caring is possible.
Others are essential.
This is why we can say
there is no caring
and there is no compassion.
There is just
caring and compassion.
I cannot care for you; I care.
I cannot be compassionate for you; I am compassion.
Then it gets really weird:
where is this “I” that cares?
Seeking this so-called I,
it cannot be found.
Just a whisper
in my mind’s ear,
“here I am!”
Where? Nowhere.
Shall we live by a whisper?
Good Morning Everyone,
The Non-duality Rag
So, this morning a cold wind
slipped across my skin
from the open window.
I snuggled with Suki.
She, too, seemed to feel it
and sought the warmth
of my body.
We care.
That is a good thing.
Last night
I watched a documentary
by the Dalai Lama
on the Four Noble Truths.
In his introductory comments,
as he so often does,
he said every world religion
has the potential to create nice human beings.
He defined this “nice”
as being caring and compassionate.
Yes, our practice
is to manifest care and compassion.
We are nice.
Such a way of being
requires others.
Without others,
no compassion is possible.
Without others,
no caring is possible.
Others are essential.
This is why we can say
there is no caring
and there is no compassion.
There is just
caring and compassion.
I cannot care for you; I care.
I cannot be compassionate for you; I am compassion.
Then it gets really weird:
where is this “I” that cares?
Seeking this so-called I,
it cannot be found.
Just a whisper
in my mind’s ear,
“here I am!”
Where? Nowhere.
Shall we live by a whisper?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)