Good Morning Everyone,
Monotheism, the belief in one God, is a ubiquitous belief in the West. I said in an earlier post that it was a cultural belief and, as such, forms part of the sociologic fabric of our lives. Yet, we rarely address this belief. Its rather like a "fact" held, but without a serious discussion of the fact's perimeters. There is a cultural assumption that we all "know" what "one God" means. Yet, in truth, we do not.
God is so diversely understood as to render any one understanding of Him/Her/It virtually meaningless in terms of consensus. This is partly due, I think, to the fact that we assume so often we each "know" what the other means when we refer to God, but also I think, to a real unwillingness to explore the topic. We prefer, in a sense, the anthropomorphized version of God so deeply ingrained in our consciousness and pervasive in our religious literature.
Zen demands us to ask, "what's this" at every turn in our conscious life. So when a contemplative student of whatever faith tradition approaches God in whatever context, he or she must first address the question, "what's this" before he or she can go any further.
So, what is God?
You see, immediately we are cast in a different dimension of understanding. No longer are the "he's and she's" of God appropriate.
I suspect God is a meta-label for what is infinitely out of our cognitive grasp. We might in the new age say God is universal energy, the stuff of life, but this would exclude God from matter. We might say, God is infinite love, but then we must understand love on such a cosmic level that the individual must be essentially meaningless, and therefore, the very word is rendered meaningless itself.
Historically, God was understood as either transcendent or immanent, that is, wholly other or completely present. Some might say God is both simultaneously.
Buddha argued that the very question was not helpful. He argued that the existence, non-existence, or shape and form of God was ultimately unknowable, and therefore a distraction from the Great Way.
When we understand God to be the absolute of Big Mind and the Relative of Small Mind, in the Zen context of understanding Non-duality and Duality, we get a somewhat different picture, however.
Letting go our grasp, opening our mind's eye to see the universe as it is, rather than as we would wish it to be, or as we think it is, takes us right to the question, what's this?
It is not the answer so much that is important, its not even the actual question, per se, but what is most important is our attitude toward our life and to the universe around us.
This leads us ultimately to the fact that we cannot really know God in the cognitive sense, but rather only in the experiential sense. We can know God through our experience of opening the hand of thought as Uchiyama-roshi elegantly phrases it. What we "know" is not a concept, not a static positivistic label, but rather, the universe itself. open and immediately present in our lives.
Be well.
Organ Mountain Zen
Wednesday, March 12, 2008
Tuesday, March 11, 2008
Hiking and Sitting: Zen Training
Good Morning Everyone,
This morning I will be hiking with a new friend who is here in the condo complex for a short time, as he lives in the Virgin Islands. The weather is cooperating, I think. Its supposed to be sunny with a high near 70 today. Currently, its 43 degrees outside. Delightful for a morning hike through the desert.
Some people enjoy company on their runs. While I will enjoy this man's company for a hike this morning, I confess, I do not enjoy company during training runs, in particular. While I welcome an occasional training partner, like my friend Katie, I would rather be alone on distance runs. Part of the reason for this is the value of concentration during training. Its one of the reasons silence is thunder during meditation retreats.
Training is a relationship with interior awareness and experience of a challenge. We say we will run hills, a set of four, six, eight, or ten hill repeats. Or we set out to do speed repeats. Or a long slow run to increase endurance. Each of these sets our interior world against an exterior challenge of mind, body, and spirit.
Just so, sesshin, the Zen practice of secluded, extended, silent meditation.
In each experience we are required to come to terms with ourselves as we approach and touch our limits. Sometimes we move past these limits by simply dissociating from our internal discomfort, we distract ourselves with mental tricks, jokes, etc., but this is not really a good way, in my opinion, as it takes us out of touch with what is actually going on and, in physical training, this can lead to injury.
The best approach is the Zen approach: complete presence with perseverance.
So, this morning, as I walk in the desert with my new friend, I will be aware that my attention is being divided between my footsteps and my mouth; between my body and our need to interact. In such a case, training becomes secondary as relationship becomes primary, and through this, enjoyment of the experience is made possible. This is what happens when I walk with My Little Honey, which I thoroughly enjoy.
I have not trained with Katie for a couple of weeks now. I miss going out with her. Maybe, if she reads this, she will go out with me on Thursday morning to run some hills.
Be well.
This morning I will be hiking with a new friend who is here in the condo complex for a short time, as he lives in the Virgin Islands. The weather is cooperating, I think. Its supposed to be sunny with a high near 70 today. Currently, its 43 degrees outside. Delightful for a morning hike through the desert.
Some people enjoy company on their runs. While I will enjoy this man's company for a hike this morning, I confess, I do not enjoy company during training runs, in particular. While I welcome an occasional training partner, like my friend Katie, I would rather be alone on distance runs. Part of the reason for this is the value of concentration during training. Its one of the reasons silence is thunder during meditation retreats.
Training is a relationship with interior awareness and experience of a challenge. We say we will run hills, a set of four, six, eight, or ten hill repeats. Or we set out to do speed repeats. Or a long slow run to increase endurance. Each of these sets our interior world against an exterior challenge of mind, body, and spirit.
Just so, sesshin, the Zen practice of secluded, extended, silent meditation.
In each experience we are required to come to terms with ourselves as we approach and touch our limits. Sometimes we move past these limits by simply dissociating from our internal discomfort, we distract ourselves with mental tricks, jokes, etc., but this is not really a good way, in my opinion, as it takes us out of touch with what is actually going on and, in physical training, this can lead to injury.
The best approach is the Zen approach: complete presence with perseverance.
So, this morning, as I walk in the desert with my new friend, I will be aware that my attention is being divided between my footsteps and my mouth; between my body and our need to interact. In such a case, training becomes secondary as relationship becomes primary, and through this, enjoyment of the experience is made possible. This is what happens when I walk with My Little Honey, which I thoroughly enjoy.
I have not trained with Katie for a couple of weeks now. I miss going out with her. Maybe, if she reads this, she will go out with me on Thursday morning to run some hills.
Be well.
Monday, March 10, 2008
Being One
With palms together,
Good Morning Everyone,
Yesterday I talked with a Zen student of mine on the telephone, I also received emails from several other students, each asked if I were OK. It seems of late I have not been posting as regularly as I have in the past and my students have detected a shift in my tone. They are good students! They will make good priests in the Zen tradition.
I have not posted as often because I have less to say just now. Not being affiliated with the local Zen Center I founded has left me as a fish out of water, one might say. One of the things I have done, then, is I dove into the Jewish pool at Temple Beth El here in Las Cruces. I study Talmud there once a week, attend a weekly discussion group, a weekly breakfast with the boys, and offer meditation once a week there. I even joined the Mensch Club. This, in addition to weekly Shabbot services on Friday night. My reading, outside of a renewed study of Uchiyama's "How To Cook Your Life", has been also in Judaism. I am preparing to teach a class in Jewish History to begin the first week of April. I will also offer two sections (one introductory, one advanced) on Jewish Spirituality at the Academy. I am reading Martin Buber's book, "The Ten Rungs and the Way of Man", as well as several other books cast about my bedroom and study. Of course, my study of Hebrew is continuing.
Why?
Well, for one thing, we all need a practice group. Judaism, like Zen, requires a sangha, a community of practitioners. Judaism, like Zen is a practice, but with a vast history and many possible ways of understanding relationship to both the Infinite and the world. It can approach this idealistically or in the contemplative traditions of Jewish mysticism, non-idealistically. Without a Zen Center, my Jewish history and identity offered me support.
Most importantly, however, is this: Zen in America is not a religion. Its institutions are not well developed as community based centers. Zen communities, as I have found them, are not as family focused, and Zen Centers focus their attention on individual needs of members rather than the communal needs of the group and larger societal system.
We are a nation of cultural, if not religious, monotheists. Zen to thrive, must encounter this fact in ways that enhance the cultural monotheism, rather than fight against it.
While it is true, Zen does not have a "God" nor do we Zen practitioners "worship" in the same sense as the monotheistic faiths do, it is equally true that the more spiritually centered and contemplative branches of the monotheistic faiths share more in common with Zen than they do their own non-contemplative brethren
My sense is that Zen can be a serious teacher for us all. It can offer a real wake-up potential to those who sleepwalk through their days, dutifully going to work or church or synagogue on weekends. But to do so, Zen must enter these faiths and assume a role within them.
Personally I am fortunate to have a local congregation that is open, a congregation of learners, as Rabbi Emeritus Kane has pointed out, who are willing to learn with me.
As a result I will be a better Jew, a better Zen Master, and certainly a far better integrated human being. Another result will be a more American Zen tradition.
Be well.
Good Morning Everyone,
Yesterday I talked with a Zen student of mine on the telephone, I also received emails from several other students, each asked if I were OK. It seems of late I have not been posting as regularly as I have in the past and my students have detected a shift in my tone. They are good students! They will make good priests in the Zen tradition.
I have not posted as often because I have less to say just now. Not being affiliated with the local Zen Center I founded has left me as a fish out of water, one might say. One of the things I have done, then, is I dove into the Jewish pool at Temple Beth El here in Las Cruces. I study Talmud there once a week, attend a weekly discussion group, a weekly breakfast with the boys, and offer meditation once a week there. I even joined the Mensch Club. This, in addition to weekly Shabbot services on Friday night. My reading, outside of a renewed study of Uchiyama's "How To Cook Your Life", has been also in Judaism. I am preparing to teach a class in Jewish History to begin the first week of April. I will also offer two sections (one introductory, one advanced) on Jewish Spirituality at the Academy. I am reading Martin Buber's book, "The Ten Rungs and the Way of Man", as well as several other books cast about my bedroom and study. Of course, my study of Hebrew is continuing.
Why?
Well, for one thing, we all need a practice group. Judaism, like Zen, requires a sangha, a community of practitioners. Judaism, like Zen is a practice, but with a vast history and many possible ways of understanding relationship to both the Infinite and the world. It can approach this idealistically or in the contemplative traditions of Jewish mysticism, non-idealistically. Without a Zen Center, my Jewish history and identity offered me support.
Most importantly, however, is this: Zen in America is not a religion. Its institutions are not well developed as community based centers. Zen communities, as I have found them, are not as family focused, and Zen Centers focus their attention on individual needs of members rather than the communal needs of the group and larger societal system.
We are a nation of cultural, if not religious, monotheists. Zen to thrive, must encounter this fact in ways that enhance the cultural monotheism, rather than fight against it.
While it is true, Zen does not have a "God" nor do we Zen practitioners "worship" in the same sense as the monotheistic faiths do, it is equally true that the more spiritually centered and contemplative branches of the monotheistic faiths share more in common with Zen than they do their own non-contemplative brethren
My sense is that Zen can be a serious teacher for us all. It can offer a real wake-up potential to those who sleepwalk through their days, dutifully going to work or church or synagogue on weekends. But to do so, Zen must enter these faiths and assume a role within them.
Personally I am fortunate to have a local congregation that is open, a congregation of learners, as Rabbi Emeritus Kane has pointed out, who are willing to learn with me.
As a result I will be a better Jew, a better Zen Master, and certainly a far better integrated human being. Another result will be a more American Zen tradition.
Be well.
Thursday, March 6, 2008
A Rock and a Rard Place
Good Morning Everyone,
Zen teaches us how to relinquish our desires: we observe them for the wind in the flags they are. But then, what do we do with the flags themselves?
In a discussion on the Zen Living list I moderate, list member Enryu rightly points out, when the pot is empty, its difficult, if not impossible to let that emptiness go.
List member, Hsin says, when he is hungry, he eats. Yes, poetic reflection of an age-old Zen poem.
Yet, when hungry and there is no food? When cold or threatened and there is no house?
Zen vows, both the Three Pure Precepts, and the Four Great Vows, offer us a way of understanding this relationship.
We are to stop doing bad, do good, and bring about good for all, says the three pure precepts. We sit in paradox and contradiction when we accept the four great vows. In the first of these, for example, we are to free all beings, knowing we cannot free anyone, even ourselves.
States of mind versus states of being. When we think of something we should always keep in mind, the thought is NOT the thing. Acceptance does not mean remaining hungry or homeless or passive victims of a state sponsored war. Acceptance means being with our desire for food without having it lead us around by the nose. Sitting with it will help this, but it will not put food in our belly nor in our pot. Only getting up from our cushion and earning our food will do this.
If we want peace, we must earn peace: we earn peace by being peace. We should be peace --- even in the middle of strife. By being peace, we model peace; by modeling peace, we bring at least our peace into the world.
Paradox is purely mental. Its a phenomenon of mental constructs. Can light be both a particle and a wave at the same time? Can something be in two places at the same time? Yes, according to modern physics; no, according to this mind we use, hard wired as it is to reside in duality.
Zen practice busts us out of quietism when we see practice as life itself.
Happy bubble bursting.
Be well
Zen teaches us how to relinquish our desires: we observe them for the wind in the flags they are. But then, what do we do with the flags themselves?
In a discussion on the Zen Living list I moderate, list member Enryu rightly points out, when the pot is empty, its difficult, if not impossible to let that emptiness go.
List member, Hsin says, when he is hungry, he eats. Yes, poetic reflection of an age-old Zen poem.
Yet, when hungry and there is no food? When cold or threatened and there is no house?
Zen vows, both the Three Pure Precepts, and the Four Great Vows, offer us a way of understanding this relationship.
We are to stop doing bad, do good, and bring about good for all, says the three pure precepts. We sit in paradox and contradiction when we accept the four great vows. In the first of these, for example, we are to free all beings, knowing we cannot free anyone, even ourselves.
States of mind versus states of being. When we think of something we should always keep in mind, the thought is NOT the thing. Acceptance does not mean remaining hungry or homeless or passive victims of a state sponsored war. Acceptance means being with our desire for food without having it lead us around by the nose. Sitting with it will help this, but it will not put food in our belly nor in our pot. Only getting up from our cushion and earning our food will do this.
If we want peace, we must earn peace: we earn peace by being peace. We should be peace --- even in the middle of strife. By being peace, we model peace; by modeling peace, we bring at least our peace into the world.
Paradox is purely mental. Its a phenomenon of mental constructs. Can light be both a particle and a wave at the same time? Can something be in two places at the same time? Yes, according to modern physics; no, according to this mind we use, hard wired as it is to reside in duality.
Zen practice busts us out of quietism when we see practice as life itself.
Happy bubble bursting.
Be well
Tuesday, February 26, 2008
Forget the Buddha: be yourself
Good Morning All,
Sometimes we can "know" the Buddha too much. We read his words, study his life, and think we have an idea of what it is to be a Buddha. This is the precise moment we should kill him, cut him into little pieces and spread him on the ground to serve as compost.
Keeping the Buddha prevents you from being a buddha. He becomes a mouthpiece only, so you cannot speak, but to mouth his words, dry and stale as they might be, and offering little nourishment to the world. Or maybe he becmes your clothes and you wear him like a talisman on your body. Forget him. Be yourself.
_____
An Offering
Time to get naked.
Time to let yourself come out.
It is you, afterall,
Who is the real Buddha,
Not some dusty words on paper,
Or puke from a teacher's mouth.
When the teacher teaches, run.
Find your own place in the sun.
Then open your self ---
And be.
_____
See ya.
Sometimes we can "know" the Buddha too much. We read his words, study his life, and think we have an idea of what it is to be a Buddha. This is the precise moment we should kill him, cut him into little pieces and spread him on the ground to serve as compost.
Keeping the Buddha prevents you from being a buddha. He becomes a mouthpiece only, so you cannot speak, but to mouth his words, dry and stale as they might be, and offering little nourishment to the world. Or maybe he becmes your clothes and you wear him like a talisman on your body. Forget him. Be yourself.
_____
An Offering
Time to get naked.
Time to let yourself come out.
It is you, afterall,
Who is the real Buddha,
Not some dusty words on paper,
Or puke from a teacher's mouth.
When the teacher teaches, run.
Find your own place in the sun.
Then open your self ---
And be.
_____
See ya.
Monday, February 25, 2008
Live or Die: there is no such thing
Good Morning Everyone,
The Buddha taught that we should be very careful to see clearly, in fact, seeing clearly and being completely at ease with what is there, is a sort of code pointing to awakening. If I say "this is a cup" and my mind has fixed itself of "cupness" I am not really seeing the object I am calling a cup. I am seeing with my mind's eye. And if we see someone about to harm us? How do we see clearly then?
In the martial arts, it is very important to develop an ability to make your mind like water. Still water reflects accurately what is around it. It fixes on nothing. In Zen, we do the same. We call this non-attachment. Non-attachment means non-investment. We suffer in direct proportion to our emotional investment in something we perceive we are about to lose.
So, self seems central. Our mind's eye records for the self; it is in service to the self. Unless we re-wire it. Training to let go of self, lets go of fear, and fear distorts, causing ripples in the water. Training to let go of attachments, non-investment in outcomes, is key to our success and allows us to see clearly.
So, someone is trying to harm you. You are unconcerned about yourself. You can see him clearly. His suffering, his pain, his craziness. You can meet his needs, sidestep his assault, embrace his pain. You live; he lives: two have not just survived, but thrived. The seeds of kindness and compassion have been watered.
What is a cup if not a cup? Cup is just a concept, a word. The thing itself is what life is all about. Live without the labels, live without fear. Know there is no "live", no "die". Be present.
Be a blessing.
The Buddha taught that we should be very careful to see clearly, in fact, seeing clearly and being completely at ease with what is there, is a sort of code pointing to awakening. If I say "this is a cup" and my mind has fixed itself of "cupness" I am not really seeing the object I am calling a cup. I am seeing with my mind's eye. And if we see someone about to harm us? How do we see clearly then?
In the martial arts, it is very important to develop an ability to make your mind like water. Still water reflects accurately what is around it. It fixes on nothing. In Zen, we do the same. We call this non-attachment. Non-attachment means non-investment. We suffer in direct proportion to our emotional investment in something we perceive we are about to lose.
So, self seems central. Our mind's eye records for the self; it is in service to the self. Unless we re-wire it. Training to let go of self, lets go of fear, and fear distorts, causing ripples in the water. Training to let go of attachments, non-investment in outcomes, is key to our success and allows us to see clearly.
So, someone is trying to harm you. You are unconcerned about yourself. You can see him clearly. His suffering, his pain, his craziness. You can meet his needs, sidestep his assault, embrace his pain. You live; he lives: two have not just survived, but thrived. The seeds of kindness and compassion have been watered.
What is a cup if not a cup? Cup is just a concept, a word. The thing itself is what life is all about. Live without the labels, live without fear. Know there is no "live", no "die". Be present.
Be a blessing.
Sunday, February 24, 2008
Seeking Ourselves
Good Morning Everyone,
When we seek something in intangible, we often do not find it. Somehow the act of looking gets in the way. We typically have an idea of what the "something" looks like and we set out to find something that corresponds to our idea. If we are searching for God, the Infinite, or Enlightenment, big problem, as we really have no idea what these look like. We only have our ideas about them.
Now some might say, yes, but these ideas are based on text references, such as biblical sources. Others might say, we we have Masters we can go to who will help point the way. Yes, true, but in both cases, the way is not in the picture the text or the Master presents, but in what unfolds as we seek.
Spiritual inquiry requires us to seek without any real idea as to what we will find. This is why it is so very difficult. In the beginning we have an idea, we want to have God in our lives, or faith, or enlightenment. Somehow these things sound wonderful and maybe even necessary to us. Perhaps we have been suffering, perhaps a loved one has died or left us, or maybe we3 just feel something has been missing in our lives.
We go find a book or two or three. Some may go to the Bible, others to books on religion, still others to church, synagogue or temple. We are seeking something. The books, churches, and religious teachers offer us an idea. "Oh, that's what I'm looking for" we say. But it is only an idea. Ideas, like other thoughts and feelings are rather temporary. In our minds and hearts they come and go. They are unstable, even absolute faith cannot last in our mind's eye for very long before it is replaced by another thought.
Many of us placate ourselves with these ideas, this "faith" or "belief" and never go any deeper. We convince ourselves we have found what we are looking for and that is that.
Yet, I suggest this is a shallow faith, it is a faith in the image of something, rather than the substance. This faith only gets us so far. So often this faith is shattered easily by the most ordinary of human experiences. True seekers must go beyond this.
The moment we acknowledge the this terrible truth becomes the moment we are true seekers. Images and ideas are scattered in pieces on the floor and we step out of the boxes of religion into the true light of day. You see, religion paints a picture, but we often mistake the picture for the thing itself. A picture may be worth a thousand words, but it still is only a picture and words are just words, and like the coffee spoons of T. S., Elliot, they measure out our lives in a hollow lifeless way.
Our task as seekers is to seek. We must never actually find.
Be well.
When we seek something in intangible, we often do not find it. Somehow the act of looking gets in the way. We typically have an idea of what the "something" looks like and we set out to find something that corresponds to our idea. If we are searching for God, the Infinite, or Enlightenment, big problem, as we really have no idea what these look like. We only have our ideas about them.
Now some might say, yes, but these ideas are based on text references, such as biblical sources. Others might say, we we have Masters we can go to who will help point the way. Yes, true, but in both cases, the way is not in the picture the text or the Master presents, but in what unfolds as we seek.
Spiritual inquiry requires us to seek without any real idea as to what we will find. This is why it is so very difficult. In the beginning we have an idea, we want to have God in our lives, or faith, or enlightenment. Somehow these things sound wonderful and maybe even necessary to us. Perhaps we have been suffering, perhaps a loved one has died or left us, or maybe we3 just feel something has been missing in our lives.
We go find a book or two or three. Some may go to the Bible, others to books on religion, still others to church, synagogue or temple. We are seeking something. The books, churches, and religious teachers offer us an idea. "Oh, that's what I'm looking for" we say. But it is only an idea. Ideas, like other thoughts and feelings are rather temporary. In our minds and hearts they come and go. They are unstable, even absolute faith cannot last in our mind's eye for very long before it is replaced by another thought.
Many of us placate ourselves with these ideas, this "faith" or "belief" and never go any deeper. We convince ourselves we have found what we are looking for and that is that.
Yet, I suggest this is a shallow faith, it is a faith in the image of something, rather than the substance. This faith only gets us so far. So often this faith is shattered easily by the most ordinary of human experiences. True seekers must go beyond this.
The moment we acknowledge the this terrible truth becomes the moment we are true seekers. Images and ideas are scattered in pieces on the floor and we step out of the boxes of religion into the true light of day. You see, religion paints a picture, but we often mistake the picture for the thing itself. A picture may be worth a thousand words, but it still is only a picture and words are just words, and like the coffee spoons of T. S., Elliot, they measure out our lives in a hollow lifeless way.
Our task as seekers is to seek. We must never actually find.
Be well.
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