Real Practice

From the Margins: Real Zen Practice

by Harvey Daiho Hilbert

One day I was sitting on the street in front of the Federal Building in downtown Las Cruces.  It was fairly early in our war with Iraq.  I sat in robes on a zafu with a small block lettered sign.  The sign read, “PEACE.”   As I sat there a man approached.  He was quite angry and told me his son was fighting in Iraq.  I listened as he talked to me about his concerns for his son.  I barely said a word.  As he talked, he came closer and closer to questioning why his son was there. Even then, many of us did not believe there were WMDs in Iraq and that the invasion was some sort of Bush payback. At some point, he was silent and sat down beside me.  We sat there together quietly.  

On another occasion, I sat in front of the same building as a group gathered to protest the Supreme Court’s decision that ruled corporations were people.  The gathering grew and security, as well as police with K-9s, approached the large group.  I was sitting between the group and the building on the public sidewalk.  The group, also on the sidewalk, was asked to remove themselves.  The authorities argued that the group was impeding pedestrians.  After a lot of discussion and threats of detainment, the large group moved off the sidewalk.  I did not. at some point in my zazen I heard officers standing near me considering what to do with me as I continued to sit.  a K-9 dog approached and sniffed around me.  I just sat there. In the end, the authorities retreated to the Federal Building and I remained on my cushion.  I had not spoken a word nor shared a glance.

These events stick out in my mind.  At the time a number of thoughts came and went.  In the first case I wondered what the man was going to do, whether he would escalate and if the need arose to defend myself, what I might do.  In the second case, I was prepared to not respond, but to continue my practice on the public sidewalk. I imagined being dragged away.  Thankfully that did not happen.

We in the West compartmentalize everything.  Zen is done either at home or in Zendos. We meditate to open our eyes and, theoretically, free all beings.  The classical understanding of this is that by opening our eye, so too, all eyes, since you and I are one. However, eyes open or not, there is great suffering in this world.  The Buddha did not awaken to sit in temples or under trees.  He stood up and taught, wandered and healed, pacified criminals, and Kings.  He was selfless and lived for the sake of others. Unfortunately, we in the West, with our proclivity for self absorption, have either forgotten, never learned, or purposefully ignored the Buddha’s teaching in this regard.  

Zen practice is not only about Zen practice in the relative safety of a Zendo, it is also about manifesting our practice through the precepts in the real world.  True practitioners of the Buddha Way have an obligation to engage the world around them just as the Buddha did.  This obligation arises from the Three Pure Precepts: cease doing evil, do good, and bring about abundant good for all beings. Notice the attention is on “doing” not on “being.” 

So, the next time you ask yourself or your teacher if you have freed yourself while on the cushion, know that in the question is your answer. Like that old Zen story, we don’t make a mirror by polishing tiles and we don’t gain enlightenment by practicing Zazen.  Why? Unless we take our open mind up from the cushion and into the world we have not become practice-realization.  What we are instead is smug Teachers and Students sitting safely and invisibly in a Zendo.