Appreciation

With palms together


Good Morning Everyone,



As the title of one of Maezumi-roshi’s books shouts, appreciate your life! Appreciation of every sense, sense organ, and object of the senses is a foundational practice of Zen. What does this appreciation really mean?



I recall classes in college called Art Appreciation and Music Appreciation. They were intended to offer students a sense of the subject matter and often amounted to little more than a survey of the art or music scene and their histories.



Appreciation, however, goes far deeper than a surface scan of a subject. Dates, appearances,, patterns are important, but the work of appreciation is internal. What does it really mean to truly appreciate something?



The Oxford English Dictionary says that appreciation is the ability to estimate a value of something, be sensitive to it, to esteem it, and to be grateful for it. How meaningful, in other words, is something that sits before me? Do I have the ability to value it for itself? Am I grateful for its presence?



It is one thing to like a piece of art, it is a wholly different matter to appreciate it. Dharma dhatu, or the 18 sensory domains, are there for us to appreciate, but not cling to. Because each is fleeting, we should take a moment to be grateful to them not just for making our universe sensible, but also for being points where an emergent buddha touches the universe.



Be well.

Consequence

With palms together


Good Morning Everyone,



There are no consequences: a simple, but powerful, sentence. This does not mean that “bad” things do not follow “bad” things, or that “good” things do not follow “good” things, but rather, it means:

1. things are what they are, in the moment they are,

2. and when we are one with (and in) them, notions such as good, bad, right, wrong, past, future, are meaningless.



Consequence assumes linearity of time and a dualistic separation of subject and object. When we reside in the moment, we are residing in the moment as it is.



Some might argue that if there were no consequences, that is, no separation between subject and object and perception of linear time, we might misbehave, run amok, and otherwise cause grievous devastation. To them I say, “Look around.” Living in dualism with consequentialist ethics has not shown us much.



What is the alternative? Simple really, live precisely, exactly, and squarely in this moment. Focus your complete attention on your intention in the situation, not the consequence. Consequence, karma, is what it is: do not be afraid. Here is the thing. When we practice, when there is no self, no ego-driven intention, behavior can be other-centered. When our intention is other-centered, love can arise, compassion can be present, and our fear falls away.



With no hindrance in the mind, no fear.



Be here now.

Sangha Building

With palms together


Good Morning Everyone,



If I want to build a sangha, I do not look for Zen Buddhists or even Buddhists for that matter. That would be a big mistake as I would be likely to collect a motley crew of people with all sorts of ideas about Zen.

No. First, I wouldn’t look period. I would find a place and set a time, and then I would just sit. Second, I would welcome whoever came to sit with me. The key is openness and keeping our eye on the ball: practice. I might post a flier or two. I would ask my friends. I would first and last, however, practice.



People too often set out with ideas in mind. This is not the Zen way. We do not chase ideas. We practice zazen.



Training is important when we get past just sitting. Instruction is important before and during our zazen. We never get past just sitting. Training in the forms is an issue for Zen Temples and Practice Centers. Important, yes, but not essential.



What is essential first is that we understand what we are doing and second, our limitations. We are practicing zazen. Instruction on this practice is readily available and quite simple. Its practice is difficult. We should be careful not to allow the fact that we do not have a sangha, room, or building to take us away from our practice. We always have a park or a tree or a sidewalk or some other public space we can just sit in. Kinhin can be practiced pretty much anywhere and at anytime. And mindfulness practice becomes a deeply ingrained way of life.



Let the labels go. Zen Buddhists? Not necessarily. People willing to sit down with us and take the backward step? Yes! Compassionate hearts? Yes! Diligent hearts? Yes!



It is the practice that is essential, nothing else.



Be well.

The Deep End

With palms together


Good Morning Everyone,



Stepping off into the deep end of the pool requires a few things. Courage, faith, and a certain foolhardiness, as well as a sense of centered acceptance of life as it presents itself. We must have faith in our ability to swim without aid of the pool bottom. We must have the courage to test that faith. We must be reckless enough to take the chance itself. Lastly, but I think most importantly, we must know our center intimately enough to know that regardless of any possible outcome, including drowning, we will be serene in the process. Serenity in this case, is a palpable acceptance of what is.



So if we are swimming, serene. If we are fearful, serene. If we are drowning, serene. We must use the word, centered, here to help us make sense of what I am calling serene. It isn’t that we are not struggling to stay afloat if something happens and we have begun to drown. We are struggling. But we are struggling knowing we are struggling and being completely with that struggling. When we are one with something that thing no longer exists opposed to us, but is us.



Recently I felt incredibly lonely. It was a day where I spoke to no one, saw no one, and even was prevented from doing computer work by the fact that I was going through a thorough scan of my computer, a process that took nearly four hours. During that time I faced myself quite directly. I saw the risks I have taken clearly. Family and friends are not what they were. I have changed my relationship to them. They rarely call and, to be honest, I rarely call them. It’s just not the same.



So, I sat at my desk in my little study/bedroom and experienced deep loneliness. It was my deep end of the pool. I went through self-pity, deep questioning of my motives, and a variety of feelings from fear and anger to hurt and sadness. In the end, I discovered I am OK. Here I am in this moment writing to you and offering something, I don’t know what.



I am a monk. I practice zazen. This is my new pool and my new stroke. Be well.

Time

With palms together,


Good Morning Everyone,



This morning I am inspired by student Shoji’s work on Uji, a piece written by Master Dogen in the 13th century. Uji is a koan of sorts and relates time and being.



He concludes in a piece he is writing, A blade of grass that will eventually grow on a mountain that does not yet exist is here, always was and always will be. Likewise, a leaf that grew and decomposed millions of years ago is here, always was and always will be. After all, where is there to go if everything and everytime is now - is this present moment?



Zen asks us to experience all points, all relationships, all time as one, and, as Alan Watts once said: we are it. Conversely, for time to be time it must have points in space related to each other. And these points must be observed by an observer. In Samadhi: no points, no relationships, no observers, no time.





Separation from the observed is an illusion, therefore, observer and observed is an illusion, past, present and future is an illusion. There is no mountain then or now, no leaf then or now, there is no then or now, period.



And yet, we remember past and we see potential future. And if a mountain is before us we must climb it. I think much like the relationship between classical physics and quantum theory, we must ask ourselves at what point on the continuum of awareness does one give way to the other and is there something that holds them together?

Practicing Together

With palms together,




Good Morning Everyone,







Last night student Luisa sat with me at the 7:00 PM zazen period. This morning student Mu Shin sat with me at the 7:00 AM period. Suki stayed in her bed. It is good to sit with others. There is something about the energy of people practicing together that supports us in our own individual practice. After Mu Shin left, I sipped coffee, then welcomed Teacher Ken Hogaku-roshi into our Temple where he set about completing a construction job in the zendo. I took Suki to Pioneer women’s Park and we walked our single loop. It had rained last night and there were huge puddles for Suki to play in. She was a joyful mess by the end of our walk.







Sangha is key to successful practice. Successful practice is any practice that is done in mindfulness both in a zendo and out. Practice within a sangha is a means of learning to be mindful of others and our relational interactions. It requires us to get out of ourselves, to open our hearts, and practice generosity of spirit.







We do not always want to go to a temple, center, or park to practice. It is so much easier to just sit down in our room and practice there. We can be lazy buddhas. This is not the way. True practice requires the discipline of going to a group for practice. Then when we say, “I take refuge in the sangha.” we mean it. At a practice center we experience renunciation of self and open ourselves to the energy of others.







We practice at Clear Mind Zen Temple at 7:00 AM, 2:00 PM, and 7:00 PM Monday through Friday, at 9:00 AM on Wednesday, and at 9:00 AM on Sunday. In addition, we sit in the park at 9:00 on Monday and Friday. We also provide two forms of contemplative practices in motion: T’ai Chi Chih at 4::00 PM on Wednesday and Gentle Yoga at 4:30 on Thursday.







Why not join us?







Be well.

An Unexpected Practice

With palms together,


Good Morning Everyone,



This morning was a challenge! I woke late, did a short, fast bicep/triceps workout, practiced zazen, and talked with K. Then off for a walk in Pioneer Women’s Park before zazen at 9:00. Walking, or should I say stumbling, around my futon, I jammed my thigh into the wooden edge. Pain. Then off to the park. Suki was a madwoman dog. Running hard after every bird, every leaf, everything that remotely looked like fun to chase. We did our lap of the park and I discovered my keys were not where I usually put them and I had forgotten my cell phone in the pain of a bruised thigh. So, another lap of the park to look for a mess of keys. No luck.



All the while I am practicing: notice the anger, notice the panic, notice the grief over the loss of my balance and memory. Notice the beautiful sky, overcast and pregnant with rain. Notice and take another step, and another.



At the car, I looked once again in my shoulder bag. Good grief. There they were in a pocket I never use for keys!



Starting the car and driving back to the Temple I felt deep relief and a sense of gratefulness for the practice of Zen. While Suki took up residence on a zabuton in the zendo, I lit a stick of incense and bowed deeply.



Be well.