What are we afraid of?

With palms together,

Lately I've had some dialogue with my friend Randy Harris, who leads our local "Great Conversation" on the topic of free speech v. hate speech. It seems to me it all boils down to the question, "do you feel safe?" In fact, many universities are now touting they are "safe" zones and, as a result, disallow speech that is "offensive" or "hurtful." 

Frankly, I think this is a grave mistake, especially in an institution of higher learning. It is a dangerous path to take as it disallows alternative views so that we do not get to hear what our adversaries may be thinking or doing. Moreover, I believe it is an assault on the First Amendment. And for what? To protect our feelings? Are our feelings so important that we take away a speaker's right to speak?

No. They are not. Our feelings are subjective, they are ours; deal with them.

Because they are subjective, the litmus test to remove a speaker, professor, or student, must also be. As we all know (I hope) all of us respond differently to perceptions. and all of us perceive differently. Since this is so, there simply cannot be an objective test regards so-called "hate speech." 

When we do respond to speech that is hurtful or offensive, it ought not be related to our feelings being hurt, but rather to any threat that might be contained within it. Being vulnerable is a part of adult life. Adults don't cry to their mothers that their feelings were hurt. They make themselves stronger though directly dealing with the situation.

The Dharma

With palms together,
Good Evening All,

The Dharma is incomparably profound and minutely subtle. It is rarely encountered in hundreds of millions of kalpas. We can now see it and hold it. May we understand the Tathagata's true meaning.

Lofty words signifying nothing.  The dharma is reality and reality is empty, which is to say, it is constantly changing, but more, it is perceived differently by each and every one of us. So what's so profound?  What's so subtle? Have we rarely encountered it?

I believe we each encounter the dharma on a moment to moment basis. The universe lays itself before us in each breath.  Do we breathe? It spreads itself out as we walk, do we walk?   It is as open as the sky, do we see it?

Some of us answer yes, some no.  Most of us are far too busy (we believe) to encounter it at any time, let alone when asked to.   Yet, there it is, the dharma.  What we don't do is see it and hold it, nor do we attempt to grasp its true meaning.

The Tathagata, meaning "one who thus came" is just another word for Buddha.  What is his true meaning?  I mean the meaning of the life that he lived and the teachings he brought into the world through his body, mind, and speech?  Funny, in my view his teachings aren't "the dharma," but rather a reflection of it.  Just as mindfulness practice is not mindfulness. When I see reality directly, that is dharma, when I later speak of it or write about it, that is not dharma, but my recollection of it.

True dharma, then, is only that which we directly experience.  It is why zen teachers ask students not to read so much.

May we each put down our books and sit quietly inside or outside.  May we each breathe in the universe and exhale ourselves.  May our minds and bodies fall away.  May we experience.

Be well

Practice, Part Two

Practice, Part Two

From a Zen point of view there is only practice. Everything is practice. Every breath, every taste, touch, sound, and thought is practice when properly understood.

What does "properly understood" mean? That's the great question, the question answered only in our practice itself. We sit down. We shut up. We listen with all of our senses. As we do so, its as if we are on an escalator. As we rise, we drop away parts of our mind and body, we drop away the escalator. We drop away up and down, right or left. "We" drop away.

What is left is the gate itself: proper understanding or what is sometimes referred to as "Right Understanding." The full integration of body, heart, mind, and environment. We might call this oneness itself.

In this place of proper understanding our eyes are open, as is our heart and mind. It becomes possible for the other elements of the Eightfold Path to manifest. Without proper understanding we are adrift in a boat without an oar or rudder. When we step outside of our practice we view the world in parts, there is you and me, inside and outside, up and down.

Yet, as a continuing result of our practice we begin to appreciate the world around us much more deeply and certainly more directly.

Practice, Part One

Part One

With palms together,

Good Evening Everyone,

Tonight I sip a glass of wine, cheap red wine, and consider my life. I believe it is a function of being an elder, to sit idly by witnessing the stars, the sun and moon, the clouds and the breeze, and (for me) most of all, the night. My pet words are "morning light." I have used them to inspire not a few poems, an unfinished novel, and the hope that arrises with the dawn.

The practice of Zen is the practice of life itself. To sit still, if only for a few moments in the middle of a breath, and any chaos, thoughts or feelings that swirl around you and you respond like a duck floating on water, that is Zen. We too often think Zen is other worldly. It is not. It is as down home as Mom's Apple Pie or Judge Judy setting the entitled straight.

I have practiced most of my entire life. Sitting formally, chanting, lighting incense, bowing, shaving my head, (all well and good) but not so much Zen. Yet, at the same time, it is exactly Zen.

And the teachers of Zen? Most of the senior teachers I know are, indeed, senior. They either write or don't write, converse or don't converse. They are neither themselves nor their teacher. As a result, they are truly nobody. Perhaps a footnote to some, an angel to others and possibly an antagonist to most. It is one of our roles, after-all, to bring discomfort to the complacent; to jar our minds to the point where we lose our minds, all the while, bring us to life free once again in an all too structured and sleepy village.

End Part One

Empty

Good Afternoon All,

My study group is tackling the most central sutra of Zen Buddhism, The Great Heart of Wisdom Sutra. The sutra is the core teaching of Zen. Its about "no" and suggests how we understand "no" may set us free. Free, but from what? Well, now, that's an interesting question. In a way, free from the constraints of mind. In another way, free from our history, our beliefs, and ultimately, free from ourselves.

The sutra alleges that pretty much everything is "empty." Even the quest for enlightenment is "empty." Now, this "emptiness" is quite something. It does not mean "empty" as in my cup is empty of tea. This emptiness is about the relative or "conditioned" nature of existence. All things, everything, exists because the conditions for their existence are present. When these "conditions no longer exist, the thing falls away and returns to the source. Because something has no "permanence" that very thing is "empty." What does any of this mean to us in our everyday lives?

Be careful about what you lean on.

Gassho

Matsuoka-roshi Chanting Hannya Shin Gyo

Here is a link to a YouTube file of Matsuoka-roshi chanting the Hannya Shin Gyo

Being

Good Morning All,

Back in the 60's ands 70's, "Becoming" was a popular notion.  It felt as if we all were given the opportunity to be re-born into a state of freedom.  This freedom was intoxicating.  It was delicious. We felt free to explore our personal identity, meaning, and ultimate purpose.  We explored our sexuality, our politics, our drugs, our religion and its spirituality.  We explored music, dance, and art. It was a scary era in a sense, as we had no idea what the consequences of an unbridled freedom may mean.

I discovered Zen in this mix, being introduced to it through martial arts and "The Way of Zen" by Alan Watts.  Through karate i learned of Bodhidharma and the Shaolin temple.  I learned about "mind like water."  What truly fascinated me, though, was sitting zazen under a willow tree and in public parks.  I often sat in the gardens of "Vizcaya" in Coconut Grove.  It was a beautiful time, a time filled with hope and anxiety.

I read about a philosophical conflict between "being" and "becoming." Like freedom and determination, I thought there ought to be no reason the two might not be two sides of the same coin, much like samsara and nirvana. What I have come to over the years is this:  becoming is like wishful thinking, a delusion; being is all there is.

It appears we are becoming only because we remember prior states.  But in truth, each moment is complete as it is. While life may appear to be a string of frames that when looked at together form a movie, We ought not forget each frame is the entire universe within it. The memory of frames make us believe there was a yesterday and, hence, a tomorrow.  So many of us are stuck in one or the other, so much so, that we diminish the value of this precise frame, the frame of now.

Instead, might we look more deeply into this present moment frame, this frame of being.  May we each in this moment the freedom of our true nature.

Gassho