Cats

With palms together,


Good Morning Everyone,



Today at Clear Mind Zen Temple: Private meeting with Hogaku-roshi and Gozen-sensei at 12:00 PM; Contemplative Yoga at 3:00 PM; Zen 101 Study Group at 6:00 PM; Zazen at 7:00 PM. Please consider joining us at the Temple.



We sat last night in the Zendo alone, Soku Shin and I. It was a wonderfully quiet period. Sometime during the period, a cat appeared at the door. I could see him, as I was in the Ino’s seat which looks out over the Zendo and the door to the Temple is in plain view.



The cat came up, sat down, and looked in. Then, without a word, he turned and walked away. I am always impressed by cats. They truly live in their own space and seem so comfortable with themselves. Their needs are easy to read, no confused communication, no fuss, just, ‘here I am.’



They present themselves and we must chose our response.



Sitting is like that: we present ourselves to the wall, we choose to notice and let go of our response to what arises. It is best, then, to come to the wall with a clear sense of openness and lack of judgment and fear. As our briefly visiting cat, just sit then move on: nothing special. We walk in our own authority.



Meow.

Refuge

With palms together,


Good Morning Everyone,



Listening to the gas logs in the fireplace burn, I remind myself of the sound of real logs burning in the wood cook stove at the Refuge. The trouble with memories is that they take us away from this moment in time. On the other hand, perhaps this moment is a time for reflection in which case, memories are clearly appropriate. It is important to know the difference.



Life without a past, is a life without a context. Life lived in the past is a life not being lived.



Context has the potential to enrich our life experience or diminish it. Context is the Absolute aware of the Relative. Absolute, though, must give way to the Relative’s direct contact with what is. When we live in the world of the Absolute and all things are understood in terms of their true nature, we must also understand and accept the everyday, every-moment, relativity of things. Living in the Absolute without touching the Relative disallows the unique and wonderful nature of each being.



On the other hand, living in the Relative world, we must not miss the fact that all things are without permanent form and exist in an intimate, but constantly changing, relationship with everything else. To miss this point is to suffer greatly.



I no longer have a refuge in the mountains and the wood cook stove is no longer mine. While this is so, because it is so, it allows this precise moment to be experienced as it is, both richly and fully.



Be well.

Moving

With palms together,


Good Morning Everyone,



Morning is less cold and we put away most of the kitchen last night. The garage is still with boxes and bags, but it is manageable. Clothes are in the closets. Bathrooms are in order.



Our thanks to Yubao and Dai Shugyo for their assistance and also to others who made generous offers for the use of their trucks. Moving always brings to the front of our minds underlying issues. Home, order, ability to tolerate disarray, that sort of thing. I think, since I have been moving often, I am relaxing more into the process. It is less and less disconcerting. Practice is a good thing!



So, this morning I put away a few more things, sat on the sofa with Soku Shin and Suki, and enjoyed their company as I sipped a cup of coffee. The house can wait a bit and soon the Temple will call me to get up off the sofa and go take care of it. I will.



At 9:00 AM this morning we will sit Zazen. I would like to see you there. Sitting in a group is an excellent and sustaining practice. It’s just not the same to practice alone.



Be well.

Compassion

With palms together,


Good Morning Everyone,

February 4

It is a little warmer this morning at 9 degrees. Last night our women’s group had but three persons in attendance and I sat alone in the Temple’s Zendo. Sitting alone in a Zendo can be very challenging. Lots of thoughts, no helpful energy, and since the willingness to sit is internal, without the energy of others to assist, it is completely possible to blow the whole thing off



I sat one period, chanted the appropriate chants, and left the Zendo for home. But before I left, I had the opportunity to read the preface to Karen Armstrong’s new book, “Twelve Steps to a Compassionate Life.” Ms. Armstrong makes the case that we are a species suffering from a religious/spiritual crisis. She argues that the core of religion is compassion and that we have somehow let that core recede into the background. She takes issue with social Darwinists and argues from the science of an evolutionary neurology. Yes, we have a reptilian brain, but we also have a part of our brain which gives rise to compassion. She discusses “mirror neurons” and their role in generating empathy, and makes the case that these traits and qualities can be trained and developed to very high levels when we wish to do so.



She writes, “…those who have persistently trained themselves in the art of compassion manifest new capacities in the human heart and mind; they discover that when they reach out consistently toward others, they are able to live with the suffering that inevitably comes their way with serenity, kindness, and creativity. They find that they have a new clarity and experience a richly intensified state of being” (pp 21-22).



As I read this beautiful book, I hear my own nagging reptilian brain squawking, but what if? Student Shoji and I had a good discussion the other day on Skype where we talked about our feelings in situations that might be perceived as dangerous. My sense is that we practice to get to a place where keeping ourselves alive at the expense of others is no longer acceptable. Rather than living to maintain our lives, as Bodhisattvas we live for the lives of others. Our aim is not self interest, but the interest of all beings.



So, how do we fair as compassionate beings? Can we say we live for the well-being of others? And what if, as we walk down the street, we are confronted with aggression?



In truth, I know that in the past I have met aggression with aggression, sometimes having lethal consequences. More recently, I have met aggression with more of an open heart, knowing my heart’s purpose is to heal others. So, today, my hope is that I would take a backward step and act for the sake of the one in front of me. Given a Self that is ‘no self’ (as it is thoroughly interdependent), what would self defense mean? My guess, compassion.



Be well.

On Robes and Things

With palms together,


Good Morning Everyone,



It is zero degrees outside and we are snuggled in together with our laptops. Wel, one laptop. The other is downstairs. The coffee tastes so good on mornings like this and if I didn’t know better, I’d have thought we were deep in the mountains.



Where is my mind? I don’t seem to have one. I see this. I see that. But when I look for the “I”, no “I” appears. Maybe the “I” is simply a sensory receptor and interpreter of a body born from an ancient strain of birth and death. Maybe there is no “I“ but for the neurological slight of hand the brain pulls to create an us in the first place.



Does it matter? Or is this just Zen mumbo-jumbo? I think the latter. Seeing under the surface has use value only when we have the determination to use it. Most of us enjoy it as simple mental masturbation and would not let the ego drop away if we were paid to do so in our weight in gold. No, we are wedded to our delusion.



For example, would we each give up 10 percent of our daily commodity use in order to raise the standard of living across the planet? Do we really need two or three cars, several televisions, and closets full of shoes? Our egocentric, ethnocentric and species-centric views are not easily given up. Most of us can imagine living with less, but we don’t. It is this simple truth that underscores the point. Even those ‘enlightened’ souls of PETA or vegans or other hipster-types seem so wedded to their views that they cannot see their own ego investment.



Zen in America has a long history of discussion regarding the necessity of titles and other symbols of Buddhist clergy and practice. When we look at Zen, even shaved headed monks in monasteries seem attached to their bald heads and robes, as are those who seek them out.



What if suddenly every major temple stopped using robes, titles, razors, bells, clappers, candles, incense, and chants? Would we go?



I don’t think so…or at least not for long. We would eventually say, “nah, nothing there I can’t do at home!”



Which suggests to me that we may think we go to Zen Centers for Zen itself, but there is something more to it. This is where perception and symbol come into play and where we see the truth in the fact that we are meaning making creatures who use symbol as manifestation of the meaning we make.



I think it is disingenuous to suggest clergy stop using vestments and for temples to stop using ritual, when it is consumers, neurotic as we are, who demand their use. Zen Mountain Monastery, Upaya Zen Center, or San Francisco Zen Center would not exist without the robes, shaved heads, and ambiance of Zen. Tibetan Dharma Center without statuary, robes, and 108 bead malas would not be perceived as Dharma Centers, but just another building with folding chairs or pillows on the floor. Would the Dalai Lama be listened to, revered so much, if he were not in robes? If you say ”yes, of course, it’s the man not the clothes!” I respectfully urge you to think again.



As for myself, I would be happy to let my hair grow out. It would make my partner very happy. I would be happy to give up my robes. I actually enjoy wearing jeans. And I could be just “Harvey” the guy who does what he can to make the world a better place. But in the end, this would be equally disingenuous as I would be in costume. The truth is, I am a monk and for a couple of thousand years monks shaved their heads, put on the Buddha’s robe, and took on the yoke of the priesthood. Its just what we do.



Be well.

Weather

With palms together,


Good Morning Everyone,

This morning we woke in our new apartment to a wonderful scene. Snow. Icicles. And 12 degrees. This is Las Cruces, New Mexico. Lots of sun. Except today. So, our moving has been put on slow. We will go out in a bit for a breakfast of bean and cheese burritos and coffee. It is likely we will go by the old apartment, pick up clothes and other essentials, and then nestle in for the majority of the morning.



Last night’s Zen 101 group was sparse: students Yubao and Caiti came. We left early as the snow had begun to come down rather fast and furiously. In a place like Las Cruces, there are no snow plows, no salt trucks, and many drivers who have never driven on ice. Its best to offer ourselves to the rest imposed by such conditions.



Setting aside plans is a necessary part of our practice. Being pliant is part of being resilient. Resilience is essential for our spiritual health. As we are confronted by conditions adverse to our aims, our willingness to open ourselves to change becomes a marker of our development in the Way. Obsessive-compulsive feelings need to be noticed and let go of. Our practice to be willing to live in the moment we are in shows itself.



So, this morning no breakfast burrito, coffee made at home, and in this instant, our power went off. So I switched to my Android phone and am using it as a modem to send this message to you.



Please be safe.



The Temple will be closed today.

Roshi

With palms together,


Good Morning Everyone,



Soku Shin, Suki, and I just got back from a 2.6 mile desert hike. Suki did what Suki’s do, and gave chase to the myriad rabbits inhabiting the desert. Soku Shin did what Soku Shin’s do, talked with friend Caiti along the way. I did what I do, walked residing in my thoughts.



My thoughts are in a bit of a turmoil this morning. My Teacher who has always been a bit of a challenge for me, has sparked some conflict again. It has set me to wondering about the role of Teacher as we “advance” along the way. A friend recently asked me what being a “roshi” meant to me. I was taken aback by the question as I had never really given it much thought. He is in a position to have that honor bestowed upon him and he is concerned about it.



Rightly so.



I feel it is rather like when I finally was awarded a PhD and a license to practice independently as a clinical social worker. Oh my, big, deep breath. What are the expectations? Can I meet them? And on and on…



In America, this title has taken on too much weight, in my opinion. It simply means old teacher, but has morphed into Zen Master and beyond. I do not like pedestals.



Six years ago my Teacher gave me this honor (or burden, if you will). I feel as though I met the burden with a degree of grace and humility and lots of hard work. Over the years my Teacher and I have fought, cared for each other, and wrestled with a ton of issues. We had, I thought, reached a point where we saw each other as colleagues. Of late, though, given a few things, I am beginning to wonder if the title ought best be reconsidered.



If becoming a roshi is anything more than being a manifestation of Buddhanature, it cannot be correct. And if it is that, then all who practice deeply and sincerely are roshi. With such a realization, the title becomes meaningless.

Be well.