With palms together,
Good Morning Everyone,
Mokusho Zen, Part Four
Hongzhi was a 12th century Zen Master who formulated much of the “Silent Illumination” teachings which powerfully influenced Master Dogen. Hongzhi writes, the whole purpose of practice is to “graciously share yourself with the hundred grass tips in the busy marketplace.” He teaches us to “Stay with that, just as that. Stay with this, just as this.”
In Hongzhi’s teaching of shikantaza there are no ranks. He teaches the field is already with us, this field being Buddha Nature. As Taigen Dan Leighton adds, “Nothing is external to this luminous present mind.” (Cultivating the Empty Field: the silent illumination of Zen Master Hongzhi)
How do we experience what is already there hidden in the bushes of our mind?
Simple. We relax. We notice.
Dogen suggests we turn the light inward and take a backward step. By this, he means we open our attention to our internal world as the external world cradles it. As we sit, walk, or lay down, are we fully aware of what is happening? Do we notice the dynamic interactions between body, heart/mind, and environment?
Dogen argued that as we open our attention, notice our own interactions, the body and mind will, paradoxically, fall away.
Practice: The next time you take your seat and you find yourself feeling itchy somewhere, instead of scratching the spot, put your mind on it as fully and completely as possible. Experience the sensation of the itch completely and watch it. What happens? The itch falls away.
May we practice to do the same.
Be well.
Organ Mountain Zen
Thursday, June 10, 2010
Wednesday, June 9, 2010
Mokusho Zen, Part Three
With palms together,
Good Morning Everyone,
Mokusho Zen, Part Three
Master Dogen writes, “If a human being, even for a single moment, manifests the Buddha’s posture in the three forms of conduct, while that person sits up straight in Samadhi, the entire world of Dharma assumes the Buddha’s posture, and the whole of space becomes the state of realization.” Bendowa, section 20
Dogen Zenji has said a mouthful with this utterance. In one broad stroke, he sets the stage for Every Moment Buddha practice. A little later in the text he says, “The practice is not confined to the sitting itself; it strikes space and resonates, (like) ringing that continues before and after a bell.”
So, what is meant by manifesting the “Buddha’s posture”?
When we gather mind, body, and environment together and reside with them as one, we are manifesting the Buddha posture. In this context, then it does not matter the “form of conduct” at all. We can be sitting, walking, or lying down. In fact, as we live in this “Every Moment Buddha,” forms of conduct, body, minds, and environment, resolve into one seamless present.
What to do next comes quite naturally, but never easily or clearly. For example, the other day I was talking with friends. These friends have been struggling with me since my separation. They report matters of loyalty to be the core issue between us. I would agree in retrospect, although in the moment, I did not.
I have a new female friend and we are quite close. These friends do not want me to visit them with her. Moreover, an invitation to dinner at my home would be rejected if she were present and, of course, an invitation to their home is for me to come alone. They claim this is due to their loyalty to my former partner, also their friend. It is clear to me that they are suffering and I feel badly for them. They believe they need to make a choice as to where their “loyalties” lie. The truth is such beliefs divide us rather than bring us together.
People in such situations have divided themselves and suffer as a result. Loyalty when used this way is hurtful, as it becomes a source of division and pain. Every Moment Buddha would have each of us together see through the other’s eyes, for the sake of deep understanding and connection. Our heart opens as we become more inclusive and as we release ourselves from the grip of duality. In this state, we are practicing Mokusho Zen.
Be well.
Good Morning Everyone,
Mokusho Zen, Part Three
Master Dogen writes, “If a human being, even for a single moment, manifests the Buddha’s posture in the three forms of conduct, while that person sits up straight in Samadhi, the entire world of Dharma assumes the Buddha’s posture, and the whole of space becomes the state of realization.” Bendowa, section 20
Dogen Zenji has said a mouthful with this utterance. In one broad stroke, he sets the stage for Every Moment Buddha practice. A little later in the text he says, “The practice is not confined to the sitting itself; it strikes space and resonates, (like) ringing that continues before and after a bell.”
So, what is meant by manifesting the “Buddha’s posture”?
When we gather mind, body, and environment together and reside with them as one, we are manifesting the Buddha posture. In this context, then it does not matter the “form of conduct” at all. We can be sitting, walking, or lying down. In fact, as we live in this “Every Moment Buddha,” forms of conduct, body, minds, and environment, resolve into one seamless present.
What to do next comes quite naturally, but never easily or clearly. For example, the other day I was talking with friends. These friends have been struggling with me since my separation. They report matters of loyalty to be the core issue between us. I would agree in retrospect, although in the moment, I did not.
I have a new female friend and we are quite close. These friends do not want me to visit them with her. Moreover, an invitation to dinner at my home would be rejected if she were present and, of course, an invitation to their home is for me to come alone. They claim this is due to their loyalty to my former partner, also their friend. It is clear to me that they are suffering and I feel badly for them. They believe they need to make a choice as to where their “loyalties” lie. The truth is such beliefs divide us rather than bring us together.
People in such situations have divided themselves and suffer as a result. Loyalty when used this way is hurtful, as it becomes a source of division and pain. Every Moment Buddha would have each of us together see through the other’s eyes, for the sake of deep understanding and connection. Our heart opens as we become more inclusive and as we release ourselves from the grip of duality. In this state, we are practicing Mokusho Zen.
Be well.
Tuesday, June 8, 2010
Mokusho Zen, Part Two
With palms together,
Good Afternoon Everyone,
Having ground some ink on a grinding stone, I am now holding my brush upright above the paper. The brush is wet and seems to anticipate. I wait and consider. Where am I? The ink I mixed with tightly pressed, circular strokes. In a moment, the brush will fall and be committed to simple, broad strokes. Zen is like this.
We enter a Zendo with deliberate and mindful steps. As we approach our cushion, our hands move from shashu to gassho. With palms pressed together, we might rest in the moment just before we bow to our cushion, that which supports our practice, and then turn and bow to the Sangha, a community which supports our practice, then we take our seat.
Where else is there to be? Wherever we go, there we are, and so the task is to be there. In the moment before taking our seat, there should arise the question of our commitment. In this moment, we draw our self together and make a decision. The brush falls to paper and we make ourselves in a simple downward stroke.
Although the adverb, “just” is used extensively in Zen, we rarely see anything written about it. Just means, exactly this and no more or less. It means precisely”this, and not that.” Therefore, when we say, “just” sit, we mean literally, just sit. Add nothing; take nothing away. Just sit. Exactly and precisely, just sit.
Practice this way, not that, attention to this, not that. Let body and mind drop away. Right. Our mind is a powerful weapon against non-duality. It steps right in and says, “Enough! Let’s watch a movie!” We worry some more.
Can we just sit down and shut up? I mean, is that possible? Of course, it is possible: worry less, do more. In the meantime, just say, “Yes” when the bell rings.
Be well.
Good Afternoon Everyone,
Having ground some ink on a grinding stone, I am now holding my brush upright above the paper. The brush is wet and seems to anticipate. I wait and consider. Where am I? The ink I mixed with tightly pressed, circular strokes. In a moment, the brush will fall and be committed to simple, broad strokes. Zen is like this.
We enter a Zendo with deliberate and mindful steps. As we approach our cushion, our hands move from shashu to gassho. With palms pressed together, we might rest in the moment just before we bow to our cushion, that which supports our practice, and then turn and bow to the Sangha, a community which supports our practice, then we take our seat.
Where else is there to be? Wherever we go, there we are, and so the task is to be there. In the moment before taking our seat, there should arise the question of our commitment. In this moment, we draw our self together and make a decision. The brush falls to paper and we make ourselves in a simple downward stroke.
Although the adverb, “just” is used extensively in Zen, we rarely see anything written about it. Just means, exactly this and no more or less. It means precisely”this, and not that.” Therefore, when we say, “just” sit, we mean literally, just sit. Add nothing; take nothing away. Just sit. Exactly and precisely, just sit.
Practice this way, not that, attention to this, not that. Let body and mind drop away. Right. Our mind is a powerful weapon against non-duality. It steps right in and says, “Enough! Let’s watch a movie!” We worry some more.
Can we just sit down and shut up? I mean, is that possible? Of course, it is possible: worry less, do more. In the meantime, just say, “Yes” when the bell rings.
Be well.
Monday, June 7, 2010
Mokusho Zen, Part One: Shikantaza
With palms together,
Good Morning Everyone,
Mokusho Zen, Part One
Zen itself is the Way, walking its path, a delusion.
Shikantaza is not just sitting. It is “just” sitting, “just” walking, “just” eating, “just” talking, and “just” lying down. It is “just” seeing, hearing, seeing, tasting, touching, and thinking. The shikantaza of the ancients is the gateway, the beginning practice of practitioners. It was a tool to aid us in the development of every moment buddha. Somehow, we got stuck, though, and every moment buddha was left in the Zendo. The practice of shikantaza is actually an invitation to every moment practice.
The ancients thought of Shikantaza as the highest practice of Zazen. Shikantaza, which means, whole-heartedly hitting the mark while sitting, was the way Zazen was taught by Master Dogen. He learned it in China as “Silent Illumination” practice. We teach it today as Mokusho Zen, the upright practice of living with what some call “the third eye” open. It is here that all six sense organs are just awake to the present moment. It is here that they function naturally. It is the practice of what Uchiyama-roshi called “Opening the Hand of Thought”.
We say, when sitting, sit; when walking, walk; above all, don’t wobble. Wobbling is life without Zen. Wobbling is multi-tasking. Wobbling is doing this, while wishing to do that, and in the meantime, doing something else entirely. How often do we get lost in our day, miss something delicious whether a picture, a sound, or a moment with a loved one, because we are “inside” somewhere else? Wanting to be present is just a thought, being present is being there without the thought hanging around as window dressing.
My next series of teachings will be on this practice, the practice of Every Moment Buddha or Mokusho Zen.
Good Morning Everyone,
Mokusho Zen, Part One
Zen itself is the Way, walking its path, a delusion.
Shikantaza is not just sitting. It is “just” sitting, “just” walking, “just” eating, “just” talking, and “just” lying down. It is “just” seeing, hearing, seeing, tasting, touching, and thinking. The shikantaza of the ancients is the gateway, the beginning practice of practitioners. It was a tool to aid us in the development of every moment buddha. Somehow, we got stuck, though, and every moment buddha was left in the Zendo. The practice of shikantaza is actually an invitation to every moment practice.
The ancients thought of Shikantaza as the highest practice of Zazen. Shikantaza, which means, whole-heartedly hitting the mark while sitting, was the way Zazen was taught by Master Dogen. He learned it in China as “Silent Illumination” practice. We teach it today as Mokusho Zen, the upright practice of living with what some call “the third eye” open. It is here that all six sense organs are just awake to the present moment. It is here that they function naturally. It is the practice of what Uchiyama-roshi called “Opening the Hand of Thought”.
We say, when sitting, sit; when walking, walk; above all, don’t wobble. Wobbling is life without Zen. Wobbling is multi-tasking. Wobbling is doing this, while wishing to do that, and in the meantime, doing something else entirely. How often do we get lost in our day, miss something delicious whether a picture, a sound, or a moment with a loved one, because we are “inside” somewhere else? Wanting to be present is just a thought, being present is being there without the thought hanging around as window dressing.
My next series of teachings will be on this practice, the practice of Every Moment Buddha or Mokusho Zen.
Saturday, June 5, 2010
The Way, Part Eleven
The Buddha Precepts, Part Eleven
Do not speak ill of the Three Treasures: Respect and value all aspects of the Great Way.
This precept is a sort of capping verse to the whole enchilada. All of the precepts, indeed all moral behavior, flow from non-duality, the great Oneness of Everything That Is. To speak ill of any one part takes us away from our true selves and allows evil to arise.
Old Homeless Kodo used to say, “The person who has left home must create his own life.” The Buddha, Dharma, and Sangha are our refuge, they are the home we let arise when leaving home. They are our natural inherent state of being. It is said, ‘one minute Zazen, one minute Buddha; five minutes Zazen, five minutes Buddha. I say every moment Buddha
I say this because Buddha is universally present, it is only that we need open our eye to see. To speak ill of the three Treasures is to duck with closed eye under the cover of delusion and wrap ourselves in the cloak of ignorance. When we understand the Buddha Way is not Buddhism, we understand it is every breath, every step, and everything we do throughout our day.
Be well.
Do not speak ill of the Three Treasures: Respect and value all aspects of the Great Way.
This precept is a sort of capping verse to the whole enchilada. All of the precepts, indeed all moral behavior, flow from non-duality, the great Oneness of Everything That Is. To speak ill of any one part takes us away from our true selves and allows evil to arise.
Old Homeless Kodo used to say, “The person who has left home must create his own life.” The Buddha, Dharma, and Sangha are our refuge, they are the home we let arise when leaving home. They are our natural inherent state of being. It is said, ‘one minute Zazen, one minute Buddha; five minutes Zazen, five minutes Buddha. I say every moment Buddha
I say this because Buddha is universally present, it is only that we need open our eye to see. To speak ill of the three Treasures is to duck with closed eye under the cover of delusion and wrap ourselves in the cloak of ignorance. When we understand the Buddha Way is not Buddhism, we understand it is every breath, every step, and everything we do throughout our day.
Be well.
Thursday, June 3, 2010
The Way, Part Ten
The Buddha Precepts, Part Ten
Do not get angry: Respect and value tranquility of heart and mind.
It is telling that the only feeling addressed in the Grave Precepts of Zen is anger. We do not vow to be happy or vow not to be sad or afraid, but we do vow not to get angry. What is this about?
Anger is a destructive feeling. It separates rather than unites. It enables us to do great harm and feel good about it in the process. Most of all, anger blinds us. Anger is one of the Buddha’s three poisons. Anger is a poison that takes away our sight, binds our reason, and kills our heart.
In Zen, we take the attitude that we create our universe through our thoughts. It is not that the universe does not exist apart from us, but what the universe is, what it means, is our creation. Our universe can be threatening and dangerous or it can be a peaceful refuge. We turn people into devils hell-bent on causing us harm one day and on another, those very same people can be our friends. The universe and all that is in it are the same. What changed are our thoughts about it. Change the thoughts; change the world…that’s what love’s got to do with it.
Everyday situations can become quite toxic when we assign anger-provoking meanings to them. This person slighted us, that person cheated us, and so on. On the larger world stage, countries do the same: this behavior is provoking, that behavior threatening. The resultant fear and anger allows us to justify aggression.
Yet these moments can be wonderful opportunities to look more deeply into ourselves. They invite investigation, not solution. The tendency to respond in kind must be avoided. We practice to remain open. If we are threatened, address the threat: check it out. What is this feeling doing to me, to my morality, my ethic? What about the situation is a threat? Does the feeling of anger help or hinder me in this situation?
If we really want serenity, peace of mind and body, we must be willing to take that backward step and accept ourselves on the cushion facing a wall. In truth, anger arises and anger falls away. No need to pass it on.
Be well.
Do not get angry: Respect and value tranquility of heart and mind.
It is telling that the only feeling addressed in the Grave Precepts of Zen is anger. We do not vow to be happy or vow not to be sad or afraid, but we do vow not to get angry. What is this about?
Anger is a destructive feeling. It separates rather than unites. It enables us to do great harm and feel good about it in the process. Most of all, anger blinds us. Anger is one of the Buddha’s three poisons. Anger is a poison that takes away our sight, binds our reason, and kills our heart.
In Zen, we take the attitude that we create our universe through our thoughts. It is not that the universe does not exist apart from us, but what the universe is, what it means, is our creation. Our universe can be threatening and dangerous or it can be a peaceful refuge. We turn people into devils hell-bent on causing us harm one day and on another, those very same people can be our friends. The universe and all that is in it are the same. What changed are our thoughts about it. Change the thoughts; change the world…that’s what love’s got to do with it.
Everyday situations can become quite toxic when we assign anger-provoking meanings to them. This person slighted us, that person cheated us, and so on. On the larger world stage, countries do the same: this behavior is provoking, that behavior threatening. The resultant fear and anger allows us to justify aggression.
Yet these moments can be wonderful opportunities to look more deeply into ourselves. They invite investigation, not solution. The tendency to respond in kind must be avoided. We practice to remain open. If we are threatened, address the threat: check it out. What is this feeling doing to me, to my morality, my ethic? What about the situation is a threat? Does the feeling of anger help or hinder me in this situation?
If we really want serenity, peace of mind and body, we must be willing to take that backward step and accept ourselves on the cushion facing a wall. In truth, anger arises and anger falls away. No need to pass it on.
Be well.
Wednesday, June 2, 2010
The Way, Part Nine
The Buddha Precepts, Part Nine
Do not be greedy: Respect and value generosity of the material and spiritual.
We do love our things, my things, your things, everybody’s things. No problem! Love values. Yet, when we want our things, need our things, when we cannot live without our things, big problem. This precept teaches us that the way we live with our things is relational. We live with our things by being generous with them. Looking deeply, we see our things are not our things, that we have a hand on them only briefly and that they actually are the universe. Understood in this way, generosity means letting go our grip on what we do not possess in the first place.
Greed is one of the three poisons, the Buddha taught. Greed means possessiveness, it means aggrandizement, it means wanting more and more, even at the expense of others. Greed is short sighted. It separates us from others and diminishes our capacity to see clearly our interdependence.
Greed involves both things material and spiritual. As Zensters we offer ourselves to the universe. I offer you me, my time, my home, my heart, my dharma. I do this in the form of opening. The Buddha taught that the antidote to this poison of greed is generosity or “dana.” Dana paramita is the first paramita, the first perfection, if you will. Dana releases us, frees us.
The koan-like aspect of this practice knows we own nothing. How can we release anything? If we release our material stuff, how do we live? Am I to give you my house, my car? In a manner of speaking, yes. I do not possess my house; it possesses itself. I do not possess my car; it too, possesses itself. I am just the caretaker. Most importantly, however, I practice not to let these things possess me.
Generosity is a serious teacher, be its serious student.
Respect and value generosity of the material and spiritual: Do not be greedy.
Do not be greedy: Respect and value generosity of the material and spiritual.
We do love our things, my things, your things, everybody’s things. No problem! Love values. Yet, when we want our things, need our things, when we cannot live without our things, big problem. This precept teaches us that the way we live with our things is relational. We live with our things by being generous with them. Looking deeply, we see our things are not our things, that we have a hand on them only briefly and that they actually are the universe. Understood in this way, generosity means letting go our grip on what we do not possess in the first place.
Greed is one of the three poisons, the Buddha taught. Greed means possessiveness, it means aggrandizement, it means wanting more and more, even at the expense of others. Greed is short sighted. It separates us from others and diminishes our capacity to see clearly our interdependence.
Greed involves both things material and spiritual. As Zensters we offer ourselves to the universe. I offer you me, my time, my home, my heart, my dharma. I do this in the form of opening. The Buddha taught that the antidote to this poison of greed is generosity or “dana.” Dana paramita is the first paramita, the first perfection, if you will. Dana releases us, frees us.
The koan-like aspect of this practice knows we own nothing. How can we release anything? If we release our material stuff, how do we live? Am I to give you my house, my car? In a manner of speaking, yes. I do not possess my house; it possesses itself. I do not possess my car; it too, possesses itself. I am just the caretaker. Most importantly, however, I practice not to let these things possess me.
Generosity is a serious teacher, be its serious student.
Respect and value generosity of the material and spiritual: Do not be greedy.
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