Liberation, Part One

Liberation 

From Rev. Senzaki’s correspondence in “Eloquent Silence,” (p 386) a few noteworthy notes: 

“… present day Japanese Buddhists do not understand true Buddhism, but are clinging to sectarian ideas instead.”  

And of Priest emissaries here to teach Zen:

“With few exceptions they are not accomplishing anything here but propaganda and the advertisement of their titles and cathedrals, like sandwich men peddling their wares.”

…”They may think they can do things here in America just as they do in Japan, but they are badly mistaken.”

_______________

Yet, today, years later, some of us cling to the Japanese as final arbiters of what is and is not Zen.  Authenticity from mind-to-mind transmission, practice, and up-right living are not as important, it would seem, as what lineage we are from and whether that lineage is officially recognized by Soto Shu in Japan.  

Senzaki-roshi, like Matsuoka-roshi, wished to build an authentic Zen practice here in the United States, a practice not dependent on Cathedrals, titles, and brocade robes. Theirs was a simple practice, one Rinzai, the other Soto, but each engaged in a simple, straightforward practice of Zen.  As we so often say, it was “nothing special.” 

The quotes above remind me of Dogen Zenji’s travels to China and his desire to bring “True Buddhism” to Japan.  His True Buddhism was in the daily practice of Zazen.  As Dogen Zenji attempted to find an authentic teacher, he went through a lot of “advertisements” and those closely affiliated with governing bodies first.  His true teacher, like another Zen radical, Uchiyama-roshi, simply practiced Zazen.     

Many have written and spoken about Zen in America.  There have been retreats dedicated to discovering, or perhaps creating and directing, what Zen in America is or will become. I fear these are essentially a wasted effort, as Zen cannot be directed, especially from the top down, or by groups of well meaning priests.

My Dharma grandfather was a pioneer in Zen here in the United States. He had a fresh vision developed Zen from its true roots, practice.  When he initially taught, Zen Centers were rare.  He did what Senzaki did, he practiced living room Zen.  His centers often, if not always, began from establishing sitting groups in living rooms. Nothing fancy and no trained assistants. He made do, training an Ino when necessary.  Training a Tenzo when meals were needed. As was pointed out (as if a criticism of Matsuoka), by James Ford and Michael Elliston, he often ordained people before they were ready and trained them into their positions. Today we call that OJT.  It is not a bad way to teach.  Its hands on. In fact, we might say, “it's the American way.”

In truth, living room Zen is good, practice in parks and on the streets is good, and practice in our offices or on our motorcycles is good.  Each of these require nothing but the willingness to sit down and shut up.  Pandering to benefactors, holding out one’s lineage as something special, or making idols of dead teachers: these are our jailers, dear friends, not our advocates.

Veterans Day

With palms together,

Veterans Day.  What can I say?  Millions of American men and women have left the relative safety of home in order to serve in the Armed Forces. Sworn to protect the United States against all enemies foreign and domestic, these citizen soldiers learn the skills necessary to close with, kill or capture the enemy. Its a scary thought on the one hand,  to turn a citizen into a human being that can, if need be, hunt fellow human beings. On the other hand, defense of our nation and way of life is crucial in a world gone mad with zealots, dictators, and insurgents willing to kill themselves in order to kill others.

This said, as a Zen Buddhist priest, I am ambivalent about this whole thing. We vow not to kill, but make exceptions for self defense.  We vow not to slander others, but easily refer to those who would harm us in dehumanizing ways, ways in which it makes it easier to kill. and if any of us believe we would not —-or could not—- kill, let me say this: you are deluding yourself.

For me, Veterans Day is a reminder to be grateful for those citizens willing to take up arms and move into harm’s way to defend us. These are people willing to offer their lives to defend us and, perhaps more importantly, they are willing to set aside their civilian and religious values in order to do so. But, at what cost?  

As a therapist I have treated a huge number of traumatized veterans: ordinary people like you and me, who have endured something extraordinarily dangerous and lived to tell about it.  Yet, here’s the rub: combat trauma changes us in unimaginable ways. No longer able to forget it and move on, these veterans suffer from intrusive thoughts, exaggerated startle response, feelings of anger, feelings of deep guilt, and a desire to be “normal.”  Yet, they are not able to do so, hence they see themselves trapped in nightmares that, for them, are as real as the sting of my kyosaku if I were to smack you with it.

Much of the hoopla around this national holiday is downright offensive to me and many veterans, veterans who see the use of the emotionally charged remembrances as methods to increase sales.  The sentiment is touching and embracing: we veterans are “heroes” simply because we put on a uniform.  Really?  For me, this sort of thing diminishes true heroism and true patriotism.  Moreover using patriotism, American flags, and so on to profit is a cheep trick done on the backs of those who have sacrificed so much. Its disgusting.

Many of us who survived combat do not feel as though we are heroes and are uncomfortable being referred to in that way.  There are true heroes in war, people who risked their lives to protect or care for their brothers and sisters under hostile fire.  True patriotism requires us to engage in serious dialogue about the nature of war, its use value in protecting us, and our nation’s motivations in entering into hostile relations with others.  

For me, I prefer a quiet period of Zazen, perhaps at our Veteran’s park, to honor my fellow veterans.  Or perhaps a visit to a Veteran’s home or VA hospital. To me, this is an engaged practice.  No words need be said, just a compassionate smile and hug will do.

 

 

Some Days

With palms together,

Good Morning Everyone,

Again it has been awhile since I posted any Zen-related musings. I'm not sure what's happening, but as I've said in earlier posts, I feel I have little to contribute that hasn't been said before. As it says in Ecclesiastes, there is nothing new under the sun.  That being said, perhaps I might make a few comments on the state of Zen today.  

Frankly, I feel Zen is suffering from a sickness which is pervading our world.  It is a sickness that causes a perversion of Zen and assaults its very nature.  There is no name for this sickness, at least not yet, but its symptoms include: a desire for power and recognition by its priests, a desire for money to support bigger and "better" Temples and Zen Centers, an all too willing effort to kow-tow to those interested in "self-improvement," an unwillingness to take on politically dangerous or incorrect stances in a public way, and an interest in playing the part rather than being the part of a Zen practitioner.

I admit, this list exposes my own biases.  I am not interested in fancy robes, public recognition, recognition by other Zen teachers, or any of that ego-driven crap.  I am interested in piercing the veil, uncovering the truth of our reality, living an honest and morally upright life, and being in service to others (sometimes at a cost to myself and my relationships). 

When I look at the ads in Buddhist magazines I cringe.  They expose the sad truth that Zen as practiced in some centers is more about profit than anything else. The costs all but prohibit ordinary, blue collar people from participating and seem directed at the more "privileged" classes of our society.  Ads that promote self, as opposed to renunciation of self seem so common as to be the norm. 

I really don't know what the "cure" might be for this sickness, but I believe it is our responsibility as Zen practitioners to do a fearless moral inventory of our practice and our relationship to power, authority, and wealth. Zen, in my humble opinion is, at root, iconoclastic, yet I rarely see the shards of our society's icons on the floor. While money is necessary to operate a Center and/or Temple, it is important, it seems to me, that we examine our needs to see if they are actual needs or, rather, "wants."  I would be careful of any Zen Teacher who values his or her robes above his or her relationship to the Dharma which teaches renunciation.  Personally, I think those who dress in fancy robes, carry whisks and/or teaching sticks about with them, should be carefully scrutinized.  This includes those priests who seem to pride themselves in who they know or whether they are members of the newly forming organizations that hold themselves out to be gatekeepers.

A true Zen teacher in my opinion is one who renounces such things and simply goes about his or her business teaching the Dharma in everyday life in an everyday way: nothing special.

Gassho,

Daiho

Live

With palms together,

Good Afternoon All,

I haven’t posted to my blog since way before I took the road trip I am currently doing.  Since leaving Las Cruces I’ve put nearly 4000 miles on the Dyna, endured pounding rain, major delays in miles and miles of construction, and blind drivers apparently unable to see (or hear) a Harley Davidson motorcycle. I’ve learned a few things through it all. First, my dislike of crowds and anxiety when within them was re-enforced by my experience at the national meeting of the Combat Veterans Motorcycle Association in Gettysburg, Pa. While not news to me, my response was awkward to say the least. It was rather severe. I pretty much stayed in my room and after two days acknowledged it wasn’t good for me to be there.  So, uncharacteristically for me (since I typically tough such things out), I simply climbed on the Dyna and left. 

On the ride towards home I had the opportunity to meet Student Tucker’s mom and step-father.  They were incredibly kind and gracious, offering me a room in their beautiful home and a terrific meal accompanied by delightful conversation.  Along the way I had the opportunity to sample fresh watermelon at the Arkansas border, see wondrous birds, find a hidden wild strawberry, and delight of delights, meet and chat with folks at my frequent stops. second lesson: stop often, enjoy what’s in front of you.

I am now sitting on the square in Georgetown, Texas in front of my son’s 

restaurant, “The Hollow,”  enjoying a beer in the heat of the afternoon.  Life, it seems, couldn't get any better with the exception that I miss the love of my life, Kathryn, greatly. So, in the morning I will saddle-up the Dyna and ride off toward the southwest.

Third lesson: I have discovered that I really do not have anything more to teach, as if I ever really did.  Being a “Zen Teacher” is somewhat an oxymoron. One does not, can not, “teach” Zen.  One simply experiences it. Perhaps “Zen Mentor” or “Fellow Practitioner” might be better terminology. These do not carry the bullshit narratives that often come with titles such as “Zen Master,”  Zen “Teacher,” or “Roshi.” Next to life lived as it is, my words are nothing.  So, if I have any practical advice it would be this” Live.

Yours,

Daiho 

In the Night

With palms together,

Good Morning All,

Thursday, April 17: It is 3:00 AM and I am awake because our lovable dogs decided to bark their heads off over some coyote in the distance.  The girls (our dogs) settled down and soon after fell asleep on pillows on our sofa.  While I, on the other hand, sat upright next to them. So it goes.

You know, I rarely have any real idea what I am going to say next when I write these blog notes.  What I do know is that I have a state of mind that, when I enter it, its as if I am in touch with all the buddhas and ancestors before me.  I feel my fingertips on the keyboard and realize Bodhidharma or Dogen or the Buddha. Sometimes its just a blank sheet of virtual paper staring back at me.  Other times its real paper and I use my fountain pen to jot down notes in my journal. In either case, Ancestors, words, and body are one.  At such times, something unfolds and presents itself. I am as often as surprised as, perhaps, you are. Painting and music seem to be like this as well.

What this says to me is that if we settle down and pull ourselves together while simultaneously focusing our attention on the moment and loosening our grip on the moment, our true nature has the opportunity to speak in various ways.  Just an observation.

Friday, April 18:  Yesterday I was part of an Honor Guard at the funeral of a deceased Vietnam Veteran.  It was a hot, sunny day and we stood for a long time in the sun.  I am finding this practice is similar to the practice of sitting with a decaying body, a practice the Buddha suggested we do in order to realize our karmic nature.  Sitting (or in this case, standing) with death brings us in touch with both the finite and the infinite. We reflect on the interconnected relationship of both. And so it goes.

PLEASE NOTE:  After consideration, I have decided we will not practice in the Zendo this Sunday as it is Easter.  

Be well.

Daiho 

 

Hangout

With palms together,

Good Morning All,

This morning brought a brilliant moon and chilly air.  I am sitting in my flannel robe looking out the French doors in our living room.  Outside, things are still.  The world hasn’t quite woken up yet….well, at least my world.  Kathryn sleeps, as do Binky and Suki, and I putter.  My mind is on the Google Hangout.  Only one of our several invitees showed up.  Interesting.  I know people have their own lives to live and things do, indeed, come up that interfere with our plans, yet, still, it is disheartening.  I think we will come on at an earlier hour, say 6:30 Mountain Time, on Monday evenings.

The trouble with ideas is that they come with expectations.  In Zen, we are taught that expectations come with attachments, and attachments lead to suffering.  Perhaps so.  But, this does not mean that we should not have expectations, rather, that our expectations should be held like loosely held reins.  We have them, but are not attached to them. We move in their direction, but assume an attitude of flexibility and float like a duck, if you will.  

So, we will try to do an Internet service this coming Monday at 6:30 PM Mountain Time. We will chant the Heart Sutra and the Four Great Vows, sit zazen for 20 minutes and then have a dharma talk with a Question and Answer period to conclude.  If you wish to participate send me an email with “Hangout” in the subject line and your Gmail address in the text box.

Lastly, Study Group this evening at my residence.  We will discuss Chapter Four of our text.  I hope to see you there!

Be well.

Daiho

Transformation

With palms together,

Good Morning All,

It is late in the morning for me at 5:57 as I sit down to write to you.  The air here in the desert is cool and the sun has yet to peak up over the mountains to the east. My usually slow Wednesday is sandwiched by two appointments.  The first, at 8:00 AM, is with my personal physician.  The second, at 7:00 PM, is with the director of the perpetrator’s program at our local domestic violence shelter. In the former, a check-up; in the latter, a planning meeting to see where I might fit into their curriculum.  

Our small study group met last night and we discussed “rites of passage” in terms of transformation in relation to our practice,  It is interesting to me how we distract ourselves from our inevitable death.  So, when confronted with it’s imminence, we are both surprised and frightened.  More, we are unprepared.  As a result everyone in our sphere of influence suffers. Yet, my sense is that such suffering is part and parcel of our human nature.  The resultant struggle makes possible a transformation.  What we become is impossible to say, but if we stay in the moment by moment expression of our lives, as they are,  we will be just fine.  

Now, by “just fine” I do not mean everything will be ‘lightness and light,’ no, I mean the sort of just fine that comes with serene reflection meditation within each breath.  Its a sort of deep acceptance, I suppose, that soothe our fears and normalizes the surprise. 

As we sit we realize the impermanent  nature of all things.  We witness the coming and going of our thoughts, feeling, and breath.  We also see the deep interconnected nature of the universe and realize in this witness that we do not exist as individuals, but are instead,  expressions of the Buddha Nature in each moment.   

Yet, these are just words.  Forget them.  Heed the words of our Sixth Patriarch, Hui Neng:

Truth has nothing to do with words. Truth can be likened to the bright moon in the sky.  Words, in this case, can be likened to a finger.  The finger can point to the moon’s location.  However, the finger is not the moon. To look at the moon, it is necessary to gaze beyond the finger.

Be well.

Daiho