Saturday, March 29, 2014

Mountain Path

Hello All,

This is a case that many maybe can relate to. How often have you felt
noisy? How often have you felt noisy in the dokusan room, or on the
dokusan line waiting to meet knee-to-knee with the teacher? How often
have you started preparing while still in the zendo? I wonder, and
this is not a wondering worthy of your zazen time, who it is you are
talking to when you are going about in your head? Are you explaining,
judging, arguing, defending? To who, for what? Please investigate the
source of your patterned narrative for it often leads away from the
mountain tops that have no walls.

As is always the case, what you find yourself doing in zazen, dokusan
and on the line, is exactly how you carry yourself in your daily life.
Because we are quiet enough in the stillness of zazen, we are able to
notice the intimate surroundings and landscapes of our own brains, of
our own chatter, of our narrative and dialog. Some have asked me, "Why
am I so noisy when I practice?" I think it isn't that we are so noisy
while practicing. In fact, it is the inverse. You are beginning to
quiet and so are able to hear and experience the reality of your day
to day thought-feeling activities. Our culture is quite noisy. Our
schools, churches and places of business bustle with noise. Even our
alone personal lives are filled with noise--radios and CD players in
the cars, television and computer streaming at home, headphones when
we are walking, biking and traveling. What a gift to have someone say,
"You are noisy. Go away for awhile." Is there a way you can build, not
this admonishment but encouragement, into your life as you go back and
forth from here to there---"You are noisy...go away for awhile."

In the teisho, Keizan said, "...when he (Wukong) set his mind to Zen
study he still worked especially hard." Most of us would take those
words as a compliment--oh, s/he works very hard. But in this case, and
in Zen generally, these words are not praise. When we work at our
zazen, we miss zazen. When we work at the dialog in dokusan, we miss
the person directly in front of us. When we work at eating, walking or
working mindfully, we completely miss the joy and surprise of those
activities. When we focus in this way, we have a goal in mind whether
consciously or not and that goal subtly leads us down its path and so
we blindly stumble past the path of zen which is before us. Nan-ch'uan
said, "If you try to direct yourself, you go away from it."

The path of zen is, of course, wherever we are but it is most easily
located in the mountains, deserts,  canyons and waterways of this
enchanted land we live on. The green stitching on the back of the
rakusu is a reminder that we are walking a mountain path. (or maybe we
can say, is a reminder that we are part of a mountain path?) Sometimes
we are stuck in the cities and towns of our lives and that is OK but
when we can, it is important to move towards the p(a)laces where the
natural rhythms of the world are most easily located. And once we
arrive, all we need do is stop. & stop! & stop! It doesn't matter if
you sit, stand, lay down or walk. What does matter is that you do
nothing-- but please do not make doing nothing into something. Of
course, you may still be noisy but, just as in zazen, open your hands
and trust... Trust what? Trust what it is that brought you to this
very moment, to this point, to this place. And then, with no need for
a response, ask yourself, "What is your own self prior to the empty
eon?" or "What is your own face before your parents were born?" Stay
away from asking, "Who am I?" or "What is it?" These last two
questions invite speculation and too much thoughtfulness whereas the
earlier questions take your breath away. And when your breath is lost,
look up---do you see any walls? Really? Allow the joy that you are to
surprise you and take delight in it.

Some years later and in a slightly different context, the teacher
Wukong asked, "Is there anyone here who has not experienced joy? If
you are lucky and do not have a bit in your mouths or a saddle on your
backs, you must each apply yourselves to the means of awakening." You
are lucky to have been born with legs, arms, eyes, mouths etc just as
the Buddha was. He was born from a male and female just like you. He
cried, laughed, competed, won, lost and grew tired...just like you.
Your form and his form are not different so you have the same capacity
which he had to wake-up. And though he initially tried and tried, what
he found was just sitting under a tree on the dirt and letting go into
what is was the way to know the body, the face that is before the
empty eon.

Enjoy

Jack
ps. I will stay in touch with you this week and tell you how my
sesshin prep is going. If I am behind on teisho writing, I may forego
the next two weeks with you but I will be back to it the week after
sesshin ends. There are still empyty seats at sesshin, so please feel
free to join us. Mountain Lamp is a beautiful place to practice
sitting, walking, eating and working together.

Saturday, March 22, 2014

UnQualified Investigation

Hello All,
Over the years of practice I have been asked to investigate my walking practice, my eating practice, my work practice and sitting practice. Dogen, a distant great-nephew to Hongzhi, asked us to investigate not only our own forward and backward walking and sitting but the walking of both Green and Blue Mountains. He also encouraged us to investigate the East Mountains movement on water. Dogen intimates that if we think this type of investigation isn’t possible or we do not understand the walking of Blue Mountains and the flowing of East Mountains, it isn’t because the mountains do not walk and flow but that our investigation isn’t clear or precise. If we aren’t able to investigate successfully, it is because our means of investigation aren’t yet fully developed because the mountains indeed are walking and flowing in this very moment. One reason we have difficulties investigating accurately is because we assign values to what is before us. We think in the paradigm of subject and object, male and female, sentient and insentient etc.. Hongzhi furthers his investigative parameters by asking us to not even give value to being or non-being, born or unborn, dead or undying, time or no-time. If there is any Buddhism in your investigation, the investigation will not be successful—you will just end up meeting yourself, your own ideas. Shih-t’ou, a distant but direct relative of Hong-zhi and Dogen said, “When you hear words, you should understand their true reality and not set up any rules of your own.” I take words to mean your own (thoughts in the head) or someone else’s. Be careful, do not make things into something…let them be what they actually are.

When we ‘empty’ ourselves of thoughts, feeling and sensations; when we do not grasp at or push away thoughts, feelings or sensations and sit in the open space of Mu, of Who Hears, of Shikantaza, we are wandering in our investigation of wonder. We wander because there are no boundaries to hold or contain us other than the form of our practice. We wander meeting ourselves in the call of the lone loon, in the sob of our friend at midnight, in the soft plaintive woof of a white dog turning to snow.  In this wandering within wonder we do not yet need any signs, symbols or fingers pointing. We just move within the natural rhythms or rising and falling although Hongzhi would never concur with the thought of that much activity. He would imagine no arising but the constant glow of the sun even at midnight. When we leave discriminating conditioning, although a child hoots, a horse whinnies or a carp splashes, there is only light—bright and forevermore. When we let go of discriminating conditioning, although there are still birth, sickness, old age and death, there is constantly radiance, bright and beginningless. This does not mean we are not active and engaged in the hoots, cries or yells. This wandering in wonder does not absolve us from full participation in the unfolding world but actually invites us into a more intimate level of participation and response. We are no longer held back by or to our ideas and conditioning, thus narrowing our range of responses. The circle of wider includes each and everything including our complete involvement.


So we investigate wonder with open hands, warm hearts and an upright posture whether we are sitting, standing, walking or laying down. We are upright, which means honest of heart, in our conditions which allows us to see through our conditions to the one who truly sees…&

 I leave you with this to wonder about…who is it who sees through the one who sees?

Enjoy


Jack

Friday, March 14, 2014

This? & Not This?

Hello All, Here is an old translation of the case we are looking at today by Aitken Roshi.

T-ien-t’ung Tsung-chueh was attendant to Wu-k’ung for a long time. One day Wu-k’ung asked him, “What is your view these days?”
Tsung-chueh said, “I want to say, this! this!”
Wu-k’ung said, “It is still not good enough…Try again.”
Tsung-chueh said, “Why isn’t it good enough?”
Wu-k’ung said, “I don’t say what you say is not good enough. But you have not yet realized the uppermost matter.”
Tsung-chueh said, I can speak of the uppermost matter.”
Wu-k’ung said, “What is the uppermost matter?”
Tsung-chueh said, "Though I can speak of it, I cannot show it to you.”
Wu-k’ung said, “Then you truly cannot speak of it.”
Tsung-chueh said, “I humbly beg Your Reverence to say it for me.”
Wu-k’ung said, “You ask me the question,—I will say it for you.”
Tsung-chueh said, “What is the uppermost matter?”
Wu-k’ung said, “I want to say, not this! not this!”
Tsung-chueh hearing this, had realization.

verse: It is like two wedges, upper and lower;
If you press, it does not enter;
If you pull, it does not come out.

During the Branching Moon sesshin next month, I will give teisho on the last 6 chapters in this book so we will be looking at Wu-k’ung and Tsung-chueh’s dialog in more depth than in this short comment. I think this dialog has interesting koan points: “I want to say, this! this!” & “I want to say, not this! not this!” and interesting character building points: “It still isn’t good enough.” & “Why isn’t it good enough?” & “I don’t say it isn’t good enough but…” We Americans do not usually take kindly to hearing, “It still isn’t good enough” because we immediately personalize what is being said and hear, “You are not good enough.”  We don’t even realize we are translating what is being said, that is actually what we hear. This is why zazen can be such an aid for us. As we create space by coming back again and again to our breath, to MU, to shikantaza, we begin the dis-identification process with the manufactured self. We begin, within the ever widening spaces, to hear the wind, to hear the just arrived mourning dove, to hear the uncomplaining last woof of the dying dog. Within the ever widening space, we smell the lingering fragrance of last night’s incense; the almost sweet taste of Chilean blueberries; the softness of white fur covered by a late winter snow. Within the ever expanding space, we forget ourselves and begin to truly see, hear and touch what has always been present…and we begin to hear what is actually being said. Keizan wrote, “When you hear words, you must know their inner meaning and not get trapped by the words. Saying ‘fire” is not the fire itself, and saying “water” is not water itself.” Shih-t’ou said, “When you hear words, you should understand their meaning and not set up any rules of your own.” Our words reveal what is right here, below…just as does the cry of the owl, the whispering of leaves in wind, and the slight shuddering sob of your dearest friend.

Zazen invites us to hear what is actually being said and what isn’t being said. This was Tsung-chueh’s lack. He was stuck to one side of the scale. He knew the great mountain after all the clouds dissipated but he was so mesmerized by his achievement that he failed to see the mountain that is right before us in each venture we are involved in. Maybe we can say, he was confirmed by but he still hadn’t confirmed. Maybe he contained all things but hadn’t quite realized yet, that all contained him. Maybe.

Please take a look at the first 4 lines from the GenjoKoan. Some might think Tsung-chueh is speaking the first line and his teacher adding the corrective of the next line. But I think this dialog is taking place in the third (Tsung-chueh) and the fourth (Wu-k’ung) lines. It isn’t that Tsung-chueh is speaking incorrectly, it is that he is being inaccurate or incomplete. There is more than, just this! just this! There is other than just the flower, just washing your bowls, just standing & sitting. It is always being revealed but it is exposed only to the clear eyed. Here might be another way to say it—there is a grand mountain which is so large and all encompassing that we often look right past it to the smaller mountains and hills and think they are just this! just this! In Zazen Universally Recommended, Dogen when asked how to sit fixedly and think without thoughts said engage in nonthinking, Not thinking, not-not thinking but nonthinking. This is an echo of Wu-k’ung’s not this! not this! His statement is not a negation of anything but an affirmation, for it includes thoughts and no-thoughts. It includes feelings and no-feelings. It includes sensations and no-sensations. It includes each and everything but isn’t tainted or stained by those things. Wu-k’ung’s words are an invitation to wander the circle of wonder. When we wander and wonder, we cannot make or take anything personally. Whether we are successful in wandering and wondering or not, the very same point lies right here, below and so in that we are successful. Whether our zazen is filled with joy and ease or not, still the very same point is right here, below and so we are successful. There isn’t any way to deviate from it, ever. “I didn’t say that what you said wasn’t enough, but you aren’t yet familiar with that which is right here, below.” (Sorry, I am putting in quotes even where I change a few of the words…but I hope not the meaning.)

This! this! Not this! not this! is a wedge that sits above and below. If you press, it doesn’t enter. What would it enter, I wonder? But if you pull, it does not come out. Which of these lines refer to Wu-k’ung’s saying & which to Tsung-chueh’s?

Enjoy

Jack