With palms together,
Good Morning Everyone,
"This was the turning point of my practice. I became free of my own practice. I became free of my teacher's teaching and the Buddha's teaching. I just settled down in the reality where I was and practiced as much as possible. This is really peaceful practice. You don't need to compete. Just settle down. If I hadn't had physical problems, I don't think my practice would have changed. I thought I was a great Zen master, but fortunately or unfortunately that didn't happen. Adverse experience gave me a broader view of the Dharma. I am really grateful for that. This is bodhisattva practice." (Okumura-roshi, Living by Vow, p.192)
Okumura makes a wonderful confession in this text. His pain, a result of years of sitting, hard physical labor, and the need to practice begging for food and money in Japan, forced him to assess his practice. He found that his determined practice was itself a desire, a goal, and that when he could no longer do it he saw it more clearly and was able to be gentler --- and more authentic --- with his practice.
We often come to the cushion with an aspiration of sorts. We will sit zazen for 25 minutes, we will practice kinhin 5 minutes, and we will sit zazen again, and so on. We do this because we are trained to do it. We are taught this is the way. I suggest It is a way, but not the only way. Moreover, such practice when come to with a sense of righteousness is no longer practice, but rather, advertisement.
My own experience with severe back pain, the result of lumbar spinal Stenosis, caused me to feel a great deal of embarrassment in the Zendo as I was unable to sit, unable to walk, unable to perform the forms required in our services. I had to sit outside where I could move freely. I had to use a cane and sometimes a walker and I simply could not stand at the altar for more than a few brief seconds. I had to examine for own feelings as a priest crippled in full view of the sangha. I thought I was a bad example. I thought, “What will people think?” as I would leave the Zendo for the back porch. All of my thoughts and feelings were a result of believing I was “supposed” to be a certain way and that if my practice were to be an example I could not actually offer, what was I?
It turns out I am a human being. I have pain. I have joy. I have flaws. I also have the ability to adjust my practice, to become more “peaceful” in my practice. As with Okumura, I am grateful for the teaching of disability.
Be well.
Good Morning Everyone,
"This was the turning point of my practice. I became free of my own practice. I became free of my teacher's teaching and the Buddha's teaching. I just settled down in the reality where I was and practiced as much as possible. This is really peaceful practice. You don't need to compete. Just settle down. If I hadn't had physical problems, I don't think my practice would have changed. I thought I was a great Zen master, but fortunately or unfortunately that didn't happen. Adverse experience gave me a broader view of the Dharma. I am really grateful for that. This is bodhisattva practice." (Okumura-roshi, Living by Vow, p.192)
Okumura makes a wonderful confession in this text. His pain, a result of years of sitting, hard physical labor, and the need to practice begging for food and money in Japan, forced him to assess his practice. He found that his determined practice was itself a desire, a goal, and that when he could no longer do it he saw it more clearly and was able to be gentler --- and more authentic --- with his practice.
We often come to the cushion with an aspiration of sorts. We will sit zazen for 25 minutes, we will practice kinhin 5 minutes, and we will sit zazen again, and so on. We do this because we are trained to do it. We are taught this is the way. I suggest It is a way, but not the only way. Moreover, such practice when come to with a sense of righteousness is no longer practice, but rather, advertisement.
My own experience with severe back pain, the result of lumbar spinal Stenosis, caused me to feel a great deal of embarrassment in the Zendo as I was unable to sit, unable to walk, unable to perform the forms required in our services. I had to sit outside where I could move freely. I had to use a cane and sometimes a walker and I simply could not stand at the altar for more than a few brief seconds. I had to examine for own feelings as a priest crippled in full view of the sangha. I thought I was a bad example. I thought, “What will people think?” as I would leave the Zendo for the back porch. All of my thoughts and feelings were a result of believing I was “supposed” to be a certain way and that if my practice were to be an example I could not actually offer, what was I?
It turns out I am a human being. I have pain. I have joy. I have flaws. I also have the ability to adjust my practice, to become more “peaceful” in my practice. As with Okumura, I am grateful for the teaching of disability.
Be well.
1 comment:
Daiho, I am inspired by what you have posted here. I have hoped that you would take time out from your mission to find your own joyous path. I realize that you have (like myself) experienced many difficult events in your life. From poverty to war, few people understand how that impacts someone. I know YOU do. It is something that can deepen our spirituality, or as it did to me, inspire a long period of bitterness and resentment. That had to end for me. I think you can do a lot better than I did.
I am sorry that you have had to experience the pings of mortality in the way you have. For most of my life, I expected very little in the way of joy and comfort. I respect how Zen deals with the issue of suffering and joy in most aspects. However, as a living and breathing human being, I realize that we have limits on what our minds and bodies can tolerate in pain and stress. I wanted to be a superman for a long time. I had something of a martyr complex. It didn't serve me well.
PLEASE do not lose that thought (Sorry, this means thinking!) about taking care of your needs and happiness. It is a long time in coming that we "saviors of the world" finally accept ourselves for flesh and blood humans that we are. We want to help others so much that we forget that must eat, sleep, breath, and experience love, joy, and sadness like everyone else. Even IF the intention and meaning are right and altruistic, I don't think the Buddha would suggest that we ignore that frail and human part of our natures.
I wish you joy, peace, and the love you deserve as you move forward. I hope we shall see each other soon, and that you will let me know if there is anything I can EVER do to help. Peace and compassion to you always.
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