Nothing? Part One.

We are taught, 'All dharmas are empty.' This sort of statement, along with the negations in the Great Heart of Wisdom Sutra must be very confusing to newcomers to Zen. As well they ought be. What could the Buddhas mean when they say, "No birth, no death..."? The language used doesn't help make the dharmas understandable at all, yet we recite these words on a daily basis with great confidence that they are true. Let's talk briefly about this.

The word that gives rise to the confusion is "empty." For English speakers the word means without content. The cup is empty means there is nothing in it. In a way that's one way of understanding the word as used in the sutra. But in a specific way. If the cup is empty it has no meaning as a "cup." But to get to what "empty" means to Zensters we must go a little farther. 

Technically, "empty" means without independent existence. From a Buddhist perspective all things are "conditional," meaning, as Buddha said, "this is because that is." In other words everything comes about due to the conditions for which they are able to come about. All things are connected, or better, interconnected. So to say life and death are empty is to say life is conditional, as is death. 

Now to the "No birth, no death..." stuff. In the Zen Buddhist world, in the world of so-called "Big Mind," everything is one with no separations. My body is your body is the chair, and in my case right now, my MacBook Pro."
From such a vantage point there could be no birth or death as these "concepts" would be meaningless, just as, if everything were one, one would cease to exist because its existence is dependent on "two." 

This flies in the face of the empirical world, however. From an empiricist's vantage point, all things are separate: this tool versus that tool; this person or that person. This understanding is what we call "Small Mind" or the mind that exists in the relative world. But Zen practice teaches us that both "minds" inter-are. They are not separate. The separation is a delusion.

More to come in Part Two

Pain and Suffering Part Two

Pain and Suffering Part Two

With palms together,
Good Evening All,

Its a chilly 34 degrees this evening here in southern New Mexico. When its cold my body wants to recede into itself.  I argue with it but to no avail.  My body has a mind of its own.  One of the things about aging is this: our minds and bodies assert themselves with both vigor and authority.  I want to run.  My feet, legs, lungs, and mind rebels: "No!" So I no longer run. Simple?

No, since as a result I suffer. Why?  Because I want to run.  I want to walk without pain.  I want, I want, I want....But I can't. Here's the thing, suffering is not pain.  Suffering is our relationship with pain.  Pain is pain, that's all.  Of course pain is painful, duh!  Suffering, on the other hand, is a result of our desire not to be in pain.  Just so, we suffer when we cherish something, not wanting it to change, but it changes despite our desire.

The Buddha Way is simple: change your relationship to the thing you desire. Let your desire fall away.  Its not that we come to a place of not caring, it is, instead, coming to a place of honest reflection and acceptance of the nature of things as they are.  We are of the nature to suffer because we don't accept the truth of our nature.  And that nature is change. Change is not unique to us. The one constant in this universe is just that: change.

What I could do ten years ago I cannot do today. I suffer when I hold onto the belief I ought be able to do those things. That belief is unrealistic and flies in the face of that one constant: everything changes. So suffering ends when we authentically come to terms with our realities. This doesn't mean our pain will end, to the contrary, we may actually feel more pain because we are now looking at it directly. Yet, because this is so, it becomes possible to watch our pain and look deeply at it.

Robert Bly, the poet, once wrote, "If you don't like the mud you're in, change it." My wife has helped me a great deal. She has, in no uncertain terms, pointed out my suffering, as well as the fact that my suffering affects others, but in particular, her. We are not just living for ourselves, are we?  Our old mud leaves its tracks and traces and on occasion dirties up our home. To put an end to our suffering we must give it up.  Some of us like our old mud, though. So we keep it and suffer all the more as a result.  Crazy? I don't know. We are comfortable being what we know. My advice? Get uncomfortable.  Practice being silent in the face of change.Lastly, find ways to embrace and value change. As it is change which allows life to exist.
Be well

Pain and Suffering, Part One

With palms together,
Good Morning All,

It is the morning of December 7th, a day that Roosevelt said would "live in infamy."  The Japanese attacked our base in Hawaii decimating our navy and bringing us into a World War.  It was a devastating attack and what most of us don't know, preceded arguably the most important Zen Buddhist holiday of the calendar year, "Rohatsu," the celebration of the enlightenment of Siddhartha to become, "the Buddha."

Our guy sat outside under a tree, swearing he wouldn't get up until he found the way to end suffering. So he sat there, and sat there, and sat there some more.  One morning, traditionally in our calendar, December 8th, he saw the "morning star."  But he saw far, far more than that:  he saw everything in every time, in every place, all at once, and realized he and all of that were one. He had achieved anuttara samyak sambodhi" or in English,  "complete unexcelled awakening."

As the Great Wisdom Heart Sutra says, "with no hindrance in the mind, no hindrance no fear.  Far beyond delusive thinking they (we) achieve complete awakening." So Buddha at that moment deeply understood the relationship between pain and suffering, freedom and imprisonment, and the great oneness of everything.

So what might that mean to us today? The same as it was yesterday and the day before, and the century before that.

Master Dogen Zenji in the 13th century taught that when we practice shikantaza, whole heartedly sitting hitting the mark, we are in a state of "practice realization."  Mind and body fall away. What is left?  Everything all at once.  There is no me, no you, no wall, no cushion while in the very same moment there is me, you, wall, cushion, and sitting.  It just that in that state the small "self" has awakened to, and become, the Big Self.

Masters throughout the centuries have asked us to then "take our cushions with us" as we leave the Zendo.  In other words, live in that place, the place of birth and death and no birth and death; the place of suffering and no suffering. When there is no duality there is no suffering, yet non-duality contains duality.  One cannot be without the other.

I experience pain everyday, often in every moment.  I see myself aging and my body beginning to fail.  Yet it is only when I want to chase away the pain do I suffer. So, suffering is in a relationship with pain; a relationship to the desire to be free of pain.  

Announcing our Weekly Radio Show

Our weekly radio call in show, "Take on Faith" with co-host Brian Harrison, will begin broadcasting at 10:00AM each Saturday morning. The station is 101.5 in Las Cruces, NM, but can be streamed on line through Ktal's website.

http://www.lccommunityradio.org/

Las Cruces Community Radio

Las Cruces Community Radio's station KTAL-LP

LCCOMMUNITYRADIO.ORG

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With palms together,

Good Morning All,

Again, I have not posted a note regarding Zen.  Maybe that’s because I have not been practicing as much as I should.  Maybe its because I have given up my roles as abbot and teacher.  Or maybe its because I have been absorbed in other matters, both personal and professional.  It doesn’t matter, so forgive the ramblings of an old man. 

I wrote in a note to my wife that I feel lost.  I don’t know who or what I am any more. I’ve let myself go, grown my hair, and feel buffeted about by the troubles of age and disability.  It seems to me that I’ve lost my center in the process.

In the same note I said what I thought I needed to do was hit a reset button. Begin again with where I was a few years ago.  I’m not sure I know (at this point) what that means, but what I do know is that it must be something at my core.

What is that? 

For followers of the Way I believe it means renewal of vows, fusatsu, with a renewed vigor and willingness to look deeply at one’s individual situation. It also means a degree of renunciation of misdirection. When we stray off course it is important, as my wife frequently asks of me, to look at how we got off direction in the first place. 

One central misdirection was giving up teaching. This led me to a place where Zen was not front and center and other things moved into that place: biking, shooting, even art to some degree.  Another misdirection was setting aside a regularly scheduled time for engaged practice, deceiving myself into thinking I was doing that practice through the various efforts of my biker friends and clubs. Self deception is our worst enemy, it seems to me, as it leads to a phony life. 

While I do not want to assume an “official” role in the Order of Clear Mind Zen, I will resume my role as teacher. After many days of reflection I have come to accept that teaching is my nature and that through misdirection I have deceived myself  into thinking I could give that up, since to do so led to my loss of a sense of center.

If anyone wishes to engage this practice and you are not a student of another Zen teacher, please feel free to contact me at harveyhilbert@yahoo.com. I will initiate a group study as well using “Living by Vow” by Rev Okumora Roshi. Classes will begin on Tuesday 

evening at 6:00 PM at my residence.

May we each be a blessing,

Daiho

Teaching

Hello All,  

A few changes coming down the pike. Most importantly is I’ve decided to once again take on formally  teaching Zen. If anyone wishes to engage this practice and you are not a student of another Zen teacher, please feel free to contact me at harveyhilbert@yahoo.com.  I will initiate a group study as well using “Living by Vow” by Rev Okumora Roshi.  Classes will begin on Monday evening at 6:00 PM at my residence.

Another Memorial Day, Another Donut

With palms together,

I often say Zen saved my life, but that is only partly true and now Memorial Day is nearly upon us. A time to reflect on and honor those who gave their lives in armed conflict with enemies of the United States. This year that day will follow the 50th anniversary of my being shot in the head by a North Vietnamese Army soldier (May 29, 1966). My life was radically changed by that event. In some ways for the worse, but in many, many ways for the better. While it is true that I limp and stumble and can only use my left hand to pull the clutch back on my Harley, it is also true that warfare opened my eyes to the suffering of mankind and kindled a deep desire to make this world a better place. When my lovely wife and I celebrate (if that's an appropriate word)and will honor the dead this day, we will also celebrate the many lives who survived combat and honor those who have made a difference in our society as a result of their combat experiences.

Sometimes, in the wake of brilliantly lit intrusive thoughts, I recall those people who assisted me on my trek back to "the world" from the jungles of Viet Nam. There were "Donut Dollies" on an airfield in Alabama on my way to Portsmouth Navel Hospital, there were the many medics and nurses who cared for me on that flight, and lets not forget the docs and nurses in Vietnam who saved my life on the operating table in a combat zone. 

And then the there was Alan Watts who unknowingly introduced me to Zen in late 1966 as I read his "The Way of Zen" and began a practice that was destined also to save my life. My chess teacher, Bernie Schmidt, my Zen Teacher Hogaku Shozen McGuire, and the many, many others who sometimes, at great expense to themselves, supported me.  My life has been a world of hurt, but also of many, many blessings.  On Memorial Day it is good to recall both.