Buddhist ‘Class Acts’ etc etc.


It's tempting to rent 'Buddhism' out of normal, everyday, screwed up people's lives and put it high up on the pedestal of our own ideals, morals and values... I think maybe we do it all the time. Various sets of assumptions can be clearly perceived in how Buddhism is portrayed and projected in its various quarters. It's probably inevitable (if regrettable at times).

Buddhism has, for a long time, had various 'flavors' and diverse manifestations across time and differing cultures. This has its very positive aspects and, due to the inherent narrowness of aspects of human thought and experience, it clearly has its negative aspects too of course.

I'm not really prime Buddhist 'Class Act' material... I don't really 'fit in' to the latter day Western (mostly American) version of the touchy-feely, college educated, well integrated and content 'white-middle-class-from-a-nice-part-of-town' type Bodhisattva. I'm not from a 'nice part of town' (although everywhere has it's own 'good' and 'bad'). That's fine (with me anyway... most of the time).

Even so, if I had been from a few streets across, I would have been from a even 'not nicer' side of town: I might be in jail or on the run now; I might be a drug addict and petty criminal; I might be a struggling plasterer or bus driver trying to bring up his kids in a community traumatized by conflict and the blight of ghettoisation.

It's not even a matter of streets of distance: Had I been from one door across I would have been the child who heard his mother savagely beaten by his father every Saturday night after the pub.

I can feel superior and much more 'Buddhist' than those poor devils from several streets, or just one door, across... but, I wonder how much of a substantial basis my smugness has? The accidents of nature that had me born into the relatively 'good' home a door away, or a few doors away, is really not an accomplishment I feel I can lay claim to.

... And, if you would like to smugly tell me that it is not an accident that people are born into lives of pain and suffering, if you would like to tell me that it is all a matter of "Their Bad Karma from Previous Lives Catching Up With Them, Man", then I will say to you, true to my 'bad area' guttersnipe form:

Don't be a dozy 'Buddhist' idiot!

Regards,

Harry.

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Not much to really go into today…

Rather than get all philosophical, I'll just post my random observations of minor random stuff from the myriad things:



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Know Nothing

With palms together,
Good Morning Everyone,

Case One of the Blue Cliff Record tells the story of Master Bodhidharma’s interaction with Emperor Wu-tei. “What is the first principle of the holy teaching?” the Emperor asks. To which Bodhidharma answers, “In the boundless universe there exists nothing to be called ‘holy’.”
“Then whom am I facing?” (Are not you a holy man?), the Emperor asks. Bodhidharma replied, “I know not.”

Sacred and profane are not separate. They are not one. They are mere concepts, like so many leaves scattered on the porch by the wind through branches of aged trees approaching winter. What is this? Meaningless. Who am I? Meaningless.

There is no answer that does not harm us. Master Bodhidharma might have better taught by walking away in silence.

Yet, in doing so we recognize such a teaching would offend our Western sensibilities. We so deeply live in a rationalized, empiricized, dualized interior world that we cannot hear the knock at the door. We cannot perceive the teaching.

My answer? Be still even when running. Pay attention to the whispers in the trees, the whirl of the drier, the sounds of the office, the feeling of your heart beating. There are no words, just life. And if it were water, we need but dive right in.

Be well.

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for kwanjŏk



perceive stillness

in the
great brightness.
a sharp sword
of wisdom
kills and gives life.
the edge is honed
but keep it sharp
from this
wisdom peak
the journey home
is a long and tenuous trek.
stay in this moment
and don’t delude
your self.

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Dogen on Bodhicitta, Kensho, and Enlightened Wisdom

 Dogen on Bodhicitta, Kensho, and Enlightened Wisdom

As touched on in previous posts, Dogen (thus Shobogenzo) is in complete harmony with all the classic masters that accessing bodhi prajna (enlightened wisdom) always (and only) begins with bodhicitta; the thought of (or wish for) enlightenment. In his teachings on bodhicitta (giving rise to the intention to realize enlightenment), Dogen frequently refers to it as the first of the four principals of the entire Buddha Way (the other three are “training,” “practice-enlightenment,” and “arriving at the ultimate” (i.e. Buddhahood, Nirvana, etc.) respectively). Dogen’s descriptions of bodhicitta are numerous and variable, but its primary characteristic is always portrayed as a profound and powerful desire, or aspiration for enlightenment. Because of its significance as the essential first step to accessing enlightened wisdom, we need to look at this a little deeper before moving on. To do so, we will begin with this excerpt from Shobogenzo, Hotsu Bodai Shin:

The bodhisattva Makakasho, wishing to pay homage to Shakyamuni Buddha, composed the following eulogy:

Awakening one’s intention and arriving at the Ultimate, though two, are not separate.

Of these two states of mind, the former is the more difficult to arrive at,

So when those who have not yet arrived at the Ultimate first lead others to arrive,

I, for that reason, bow to their first giving rise to their intention.

With Your first arising, You were already a Teacher for humans and gods,

Surpassing those who merely listen and those who seek the Goal only for themselves.

The arising of such an intention as Yours has surpassed the triple world,

And therefore we call it the supreme state above all.

The arising of the intention means giving rise, right off, to the intention to help others reach the Other Shore, even though you yourself have not yet reached that Place. We call this giving rise to the enlightened Mind for the first time. Once you have given rise to this Mind, you will then encounter Buddhas to whom you should make alms offerings, and you should hearken to Their Teaching. Further, should you then strive to give rise to the enlightened Mind, it would be like adding frost atop snow.

The term ‘the Ultimate’ refers to the Wisdom that is the result of Buddhahood. Were we to compare the state of supreme, fully perfected enlightenment with the state of giving rise to the enlightened Mind for the first time, it is like comparing the universal, all-consuming conflagration of the final age with the light of a firefly. Even so, when you give rise to the heart that helps others reach the Other Shore, even though you yourself have not yet reached that Place, there is no difference between the two.  ~Shobogenzo, Hotsu Bodai Shin (Translated by Rev. Hubert Nearman)

This passage contains a number of assertions providing definitive clarification on some of the most important aspects of Dogen’s Zen teaching. The fact that much of Shobogenzo is as lucid and forthright as this passage makes it difficult to understand how certain key elements of Dogen’s Zen continue to be so hotly debated. This short passage alone offers evidence enough to settle, at least in a general way, Dogen’s positions concerning “enlightenment as the goal of practice,” the affirmation of “various stages (or levels) of enlightenment,” the necessity of achieving an “initial enlightenment experience,” and others.

First, notice that the Buddhist scripture Dogen quotes begins with an affirmation of the nonduality of “bodhicitta” (Awakening one’s intention) and “arriving at the ultimate.” Like “delusion” and “realization,” “self” and “not-self,” “practice” and “enlightenment,” and all the other nondual dharmas, the “first step” (bodhicitta) and the “final realization of Buddhahood” (arriving at the ultimate), “though two, are not separate.” Second, notice also that Dogen’s first comment on this passage affirms the nonduality of the “intention to awaken” (bodhicitta) and the “intention to help others awaken” (reach the Other Shore; i.e. Nirvana). Third (and finally), notice the implications: “the intention to awaken,” “arriving at the ultimate,” and “the intention to help others awaken” are not separate (i.e. are nondual; depend upon and contain each other). If so, why the debates concerning Dogen’s view of what constitutes “arriving at the ultimate”? Clearly, whenever a sentient being simply intends to help another awaken, “even though they have not yet reached it” they arrive at the ultimate. The key word here is “intention,” which, in Dogen’s use, connotes a certain “wholeheartedness” that is absent in the usual sense of the word.

The next thing to consider is Dogen’s points concerning, “giving rise to the enlightened Mind for the first time.” In his explication, Dogen offers an astonishingly creative portrayal of the process for “accessing bodhi prajna” by describing the dynamic interaction of “initial enlightenment,” “helping others,” and “full, perfect enlightenment.” The skill with which Dogen weaves these apparently “disparate” elements together, thus illustrating their interdependence (non-separation) is a good example of his mastery of language–and an excellent passage to seriously contemplate.

Note: Some assert that Dogen’s Zen does not acknowledge a need for “initial enlightenment experiences” [commonly called “kensho”]. Nevertheless, the above quote is typical of Dogen’s own statements on the issue; hence I leave it for the reader to discern Dogen’s own position. I trust that most readers will do so with little difficulty.

 

Peace,

Ted


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Remembering James Reeb

On this day in 1965 James Reeb lay in an Alabama hospital, his life slipping away.


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A little Engrish Humor for a change

What Superman was before his parents were born?

I guess Dr. Kevorkian has started a mass marketing program.

I always like Bamboo Flavored Crap Eggs for breakfast.

This is the Chinese Equivalent of the Complaints Department.

Why don't we sell bottled water in a can? I feel ripped off now.

Is this meant for bears or elephants?

I promise I won't do it!

I want to eat here.


Korean "No Smoking Sign"


I am glad he cleared this up, otherwise I would have never known.

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the TV show

.
For the third day in a row, the dawn comes up pale blue and clear from end to end. Looking into a sky like that, it is hard to pay it much mind. There is no contrast, no point of reference, no excitement ... none of the dazzling or delightful clouds that float and shape-shift. It's a little like looking at a TV that's off.

When things are the same, people get agitated or confused or bored: They know instinctively that things change and yet this blue sky is the same. In the army, everyone wears the same clothes, day in and day out. In the zendo, everyone wears a robe. And each morning the employee seeks out a different tie or skirt, a change for what the mirror tells us is the same -- this blue, blue sky -- but different.

It is hard to face up to the fact that there is something that doesn't change. Not intellectually or emotionally, but really -- really, there is something that doesn't change in our lives, some cloudless blue sky.

Part of the difficulty, of course, is that the moment we say something doesn't change, we are cruisin' for a bruisin' because, of course, everything changes. Running around and spouting snuggly words like "god" and "oneness" and "love" ... well, if blue sky laughed, I imagine it must snicker fiercely.

What is it that is the same but will not accede to any notion of same-ness? What is the same but different ... and does not accede to difference either? What is the principle that cannot be grasped and yet cannot be escaped? What is it that, despite all the mystical and religious maneuvering, is at peace ... that is solid as a rock and yet when we try to sit on it, we fall flat on our asses?

Just now, on the porch, beneath the blue, blue sky, I could hear a flock of Canada geese somewhere in the distance. A schoolgirl with a backpack passed by, talking on a cell phone. And on the porch, some old fart nitwit conjures up words to evoke something ... to turn on the TV.

It never changes.

Time for breakfast.
.

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mushin & the train of enlightenment

I often feel I’m not getting anywhere in my practice and that usually coincides with things in my environment going to pieces.  My behaviour gets out of whack or my thoughts spiral out or I just feel a general sense of lack.  Nothing seems to be working or satisfying.  In these periods of agitation, I will do one of two things: let my formal practice lapse or become obsessive about it.  Either way, it’s not fun. When I read the Parable of Mushin in Everyday Zen: Love & Work by Joko Beck, it became my favourite story about practice and the unseen ways in which it works on us.

To preface a bit: I don’t experience love and work as different.  To me, they are both verbs, processes with no start or finish.  Loving and working flow together seamlessly – until I become confused about the intention of loving what I love and how to work with it.  In practice, I feel a process of loving the entirety of the experience: lighting the candles, arranging the cushions, setting the incense stick in the sand, placing the rakusu over my head, approaching the cushion, sitting, and so on.  I feel my body working into each transition effortlessly at times, a struggle at others.  Over time things have shifted, one way then another.  It wasn’t always like this, nor is it always like this.  So when I lose sight of how to keep loving the working of practice, I am grateful for the Parable of Mushin.

This is my compressed version.  The full version is worth the read.

Joe was also known as Mushin because he was really into dharma studies.  He was also very unskillful so he ended up losing his job and his wife.  He decided in the middle of this catastrophe, he was at least going to have enlightenment – whatever it took.  So he got a book called “How to Catch the Train of Enlightenment”, studied it with great care, followed all the directions, and went to the train station to catch the Train of Enlightenment.  Well, you guessed it – the train came and went without Joe being able to get on it.  Not being one to give up, he dove into practice and was relentless at it.  Other people read the book too and came by the station only to suffer the same results.  Over time, people also brought their kids and the station became a little community.  Like all communities, living together created demands like the need for child care, shelter, food, lessons for kids who should be in school.  Joe, looking around, noticed all this and began to set up huts and dining rooms and all the things communities take for granted will appear just because they need it.  Of course, he had little time for meditation or other practices that would get him on that train.  He began to get angry and resentful.  “You know, I’m only interested in enlightenment.  Those other people get to watch the Train and what am I doing really?”  Then one day, he re-discovered zazen and practiced that.  Given the hub-bub of organizing care for this community, it was a quiet way to enter the day.  It allowed him a sense of peace and others, frustrated with not catching the Train,  joined him.  They could hear the Train roar by, but they were too busy taking care of everyone to get on it or worry about missing it.  Over the years, Mushin had the chance to see many people come and go; some stayed to watch for the Train, others gave up and went home, others joined his care-taking community. He found himself able to accept whatever and whoever was present.

But Mushin was tired.  This was hard work, all this loving care.  And there was no Enlightenment Train to give him some reinforcement to keep practicing.

The ending of the parable is probably obvious.  But I like to stop here when I recall the story or read it back to myself.  It leaves me with many questions about the nature, purpose, and epiphenomenon of practice.

What are the things that are being cultivated in the middle of or because of my dissatisfaction?

Thank you for practicing,

Genju


Filed under: Western Teachers Tagged: Joko Beck, practice

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Zen 2.0 The Zenosaurus Course in Koans 2.5: Lost & Found

Lost & Found
 
Some koans are about having a meditation practice. So this piece is going to be about some of the intricacies and dance moves of that practice.
 
The Koan This Week: 

The Coin Lost In The River Is Found In The River

The sun and moon are travelers in eternity. Even the years are wanderers. For those whose life is on the waters or leading a horse through the years each day is a journey and the journey itself is home.
Matsuo Basho


Meditation is something that you do, which is what makes it a practice. It doesn’t need much in the way of theory and it teaches you how to do it as you go. But in order to do it you have to actually do it. In meditation, the world moves toward me and through me and falls away behind. Even if I stay in the same place I am emigrating through time. This koan offers offers the chance of finding that there is a home in traveling, in the smell of toast, the chill of the morning air and even in the feeling of being far from home. The koan reverses the equation that the mind is always trying to solve.

In meditating with a koan you find yourself making moves that would not otherwise occur to you. Basically, you show up in the life you are having at this minute, without judgment or critique. Then you find out what happens.

Meditation goes like this for me:
Let’s start with the part about having lost the coin, let’s say the mind feels off balance in some way. That’s just the first noble truth, that we suffer and most of the things we try to do about the suffering thicken the suffering. The koan is the beginning of a step backwards, of a new direction.

When you are with the koan, you could say that the koan notices your situation for you. Any part of the koan will waken your sense of doubt in the thickness of your unhappiness, so the word coin or river might be what appears in awareness and that will be enough. It is also fun to think of whatever is happening in your life as the form that the koan is taking today. For example, today my body felt out of whack and I noticed my mind offering theories; my thoughts have been a bit sticky and off balance too. The theories are the usual flailing around that the mind does—maybe I need more sleep, maybe I ate the wrong thing, maybe I’m sad, maybe I should get that flu shot….

It doesn’t really matter what theories my mind offers, or even if some of them have a leg to stand on. The mind does lists: the to-do list, the I-can’t-bear-to-or-at-least-prefer-not-to list, or the list-of-dreadful-possibilities. It doesn’t matter whether you are waiting for the results of a cancer test or your lover just ran off, or nothing serious is going on at all. The mind treats treats the thoughts as an instruction to solve a problem but the problem can’t be solved in that way. The thoughts are handles on the situation. The koan takes away the thoughts, then I don’t have a handle on the situation because I’m closer in than that.

At first the mind rushes off after each item that comes up, whether it’s something that happened or a song hook. This doesn’t achieve anything. As the koan continues to operate, the mind settles a bit, it feels the pull of the theories and beliefs but doesn’t follow them so breathlessly. The koan’s job here is to pry you loose, to undermine you, to reverse the direction of the quest. Your awareness notices that it is somewhere and then it’s free for a moment.

Next the mind notices the thoughts but is less identified with them. What is happening when the mind is not chasing its thoughts is starting to seem very appealing. Even the sense that life is unsatisfactory becomes a piece of freedom, something amusing and full of life. Then even the looking is what you are looking for.

Next, not many thoughts or theories seem to be arising but whether they arise is not important. There is no need to move on from this moment, nothing to be anxious about, nothing to do. Then there is not much to say about what is noticed. There is no skin between you and the world. This is the “found” part of the koan. There is not a you and a world in any separated way. The sound of hammering from next door, a truck hauling up the grade, the coyotes doing their midnight cheer, all the sounds happen in stereo and have an aura of eternity about them. The river flows and where you reach is the coin. And the events inside too, the thoughts and feelings are also the coin.

The content of what is happening in my mind doesn’t matter as long as I don’t think it’s me or it’s real. What the koan does is to undermine the thoughts so that what is left is the world. When that happens we have found the coin already and are dancing together—along with the dog who has Buddha nature and the maple tree putting out new buds.

This has all sorts of implications. If I don’t suffer, if I don’t have my known problems, who am I? This is the core of koan work, where it is all headed. Then I step into a darkness or a vastness, and even my thoughts don’t tell me what to do.

The practice part of it is that it doesn’t matter if you think you lost the coin and start to be unhappy about life. That is another theory. And it doesn’t matter how many times that theory rises. Even that theory is the coin. A koan practice means that you go back to the river over and over again and you can trust that process. You can trust the moves your mind makes when you are not ordering it around, telling it to be happy or calm. Then you rest in the source and it it is apparently inexhaustible.

Questions, questions

1. What brought you to meditation? Was there a problem to solve? Does it work? Do you think you're doing it right?
2. Is there a treasure you seek? Can you describe it?
3. What happens for you when you meditate? What happens to the koan?
4. Do you have a favorite explanation for yourself or something in your life? What's it like to imagine being without it?
5. What's the most important thing you've ever lost?
6. What's the best thing you've ever found?

The koan is from the ancient Chinese grand master, Yunmen.
The painting "Incoming Tide" is by Adrian King from Lockhart River.
The map is by pirates.
The toast is by Orowheat.

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