The Question: What Allows It, and What Denies It

The only really important koans boil down to "What is this?".  This is actually the same question as "What were you before your grandparents were born?"  You should be able to figure out where these two questions meet. 

A koan that does not aid in resolving these questions, or aspects of what becomes known, is not a real koan.

Joshu was speaking from the answer, or shouting from it, when the monk's question cornered him into the false view.

Zen masters like the fact that Joshu screamed.  It makes it look like the old man was great and grand, and the monk was a fool.

Personally, I see this as a terrible distortion --  an abuse --  like many aspects of the traditional Zen form.  Many aspects of the form extend the idea of "master" over "student".  This includes ceremony, elaborate costumes, a rich Zen mythology, an impressive spectacle of formal order in the zendo, the "master's" aloofness from "normal" work, etc. etc. 

The list just goes on and on, and, oddly,  people criticize sanghas, for excess devotion, when the "masters" screw up.  But it is the traditional masters that insist on such ridiculous form, just for sitting still together, and it is the corrupt masters who require such unhealthy devotion from their students.

Anyway, Joshu is in no way dismissing the monk's question, nor is he demonstrating any sort of superiority, nor is he expressing frustration with the monk, nor is he "blasting away" the question into "nothingness".

He is doing none of these things.

In fact, this question, for all we know, may have been a test.   And, if so, it is a good test, because it scrambles things in a way that makes it impossible to answer. 

So, Joshu was forced to shout. 

What are you?  How are you here?  How are you seeing out your eyes?

Seeing this actually isn't so important, but in Zen, it is talked about as though it is everything. 

How best to address the question?

The truth is, the question is best presented unadorned.  Like any other investigative endeavor, like scientific inquiry, any belief system or devotional notions only diminish it, or steer one away.

In the traditional practices, if you look at the different ways that "insight" is characterized, things just don't match up.  Commitment to a traditional form is not part of the equation.  It won't help anything.  Obedience and devotion to a particular man or woman is not part of the equation.  "Advancing" in a number of  "stages" of "enlightenment", or considering things this way, is not part of the equation.   The unquestioning manner in which one goes through one's monastic rituals is not part of the equation.

Belief in any of these things -- even seemingly innocent trust in them -- are things that actually diminish the question, taking power away from it.  All of these things make it seem like there is something "else", besides "you" that will assist in the answer. 

They are all things that remove the ideas of independence  and self-sufficiency from the investigation.  They make "Zen" or "Buddhism" or "Advancing" into important words. 

A real group meditation "practice", then, where everyone is truly addressing the question while sitting beside one who no longer has no use for it anymore, would appear as "less" impressive, important, or ceremonial.  There would be nothing added to this, save some worldly regulations to make sure everyone is on the same page, operationally.

It can't even be "Buddhist".  Even this is a smokescreen.  Why make smokescreens?  There is no "belief" in a question, and there is no "faith", aside from that in yourself.    What you will see isn't "Buddhist".  It isn't "Zen" insight.  It isn't "Christian". 

It isn't "nothing" either.

You can't describe things these ways.

So why describe the approach this way?

The only people who would do this are the ones who have never seen.  Because there is no reason to burden people with weight that only has to be dropped, if they are to see.

The best group setting would simply be a schedule, and a cooperative, non-hierarchical format that the group has agreed to.  If it is seen by the participants as anything else, anything "more", then things have gone off course.

In fact, much of what is considered "traditional" does not even allow for the question.  A long time ago,  perhaps the practice did, when people were just meeting up to sit together, and chatting about it.  But as soon as "Zen" becomes a "thing", or "Buddhism" becomes a "thing", people behave in a manner, and reward a manner, that actually diminishes the question.

This is just a function of the rarity of the answer, especially among the leaders of form.

All personal labels deny the question.  "I am a Buddhist, I am a monk"  means you have not accepted the question of what you are.  You have, instead, accepted an appearance, and you have called the appearance the answer.  Moreover, you have added  additional layers on top.  You have added things to "Man" or "Woman", making an idea heavier, and thus making the answer more remote.

As Lin Chi said, you have added a head to the one you already have.

If you are interested in the question, you can't even think this way.  How do you see out of your particular eyes?  What puts you there?  What is the root of consciousness?

All experience, thought, and memory depend on this.

So it is worth an investigation.

Your whole life is certainly worth a look.

"I am a student" denies the question.

If you see things this way, you are not looking toward where the answer comes from.

"I am a master" denies the question.  It is even worse than saying "I am a student".

It sounds like I am being nit-picky, but I'm not.  People think "everyone knows the labels don't mean anything.  The masters know that, they aren't idiots".

But nobody is calling them idiots, or bad people.  They are just interested in doing things that are unrelated to the question -- or the answer, in fact.  Much of their life, and much of their activity, and much of their speech, relates, in fact, to the nonsense labels -- monk/layman, etc... 

This is just what happens, after awhile.  Things drift away.

Once in awhile someone comes along and changes things, for a bit, but things drift back, because it is not so common that someone shows up with the answer to what we are.  A man removes all the labels from his life, finds the answer, and wishes to help others do the same.  He doesn't bother with wasteful things.

After he dies, people start picking up labels, applying them here and there, and talking about them as if they are meaningful.   Then, in more time,  they start making great ceremonies for the labels.  They make great spectacles about the very things that have no importance, because they themselves have not found the answer.  They need the spectacle.  They have to make things look important.  They actually have to, because they don't have what is important.

Maybe there is a traditional master somewhere that has truly seen, but I listen to them talk all the time, and they give themselves away.  They always do.   Maybe they believe they have seen -- maybe they have thought out an idea about things being connected, and so on.  But then they will always give themselves away.

If you ask them "what is free will?"  they will talk about Buddhist beliefs, for example.

If you ask them "how about a question  not from the books?" they will give you a speech about the tried and true koan curriculum.


They won't come up with something that you have not heard before, or will not hear again.

They don't know.

If anyone is reading this, there is a point to this blog -- don't assume anything.  Don't assume what I am saying is true. 

The only way you will know, is if you see for yourself.  If you don't know, nobody can teach you.

You have to find out. 

There is no purpose to "following" anything, or anyone.  It is not sensible.  In fact, it is better to go to different places, all the time, like Lin Chi did.  They all say they know, but they give themselves away.

Because someone says "I know" doesn't make it so.

They know how people may answer the koans, but this isn't truly seeing.

Those living the answer have trouble speaking, or behaving, the way the masters speak.    They can, but it annoys them.  It is boring to speak about belief, and tradition, and divisions, and adornments to the self, and other things that are not real. It is a waste of time.

Long ago, it was believed that the sun rotated around the earth.

That is an appearance. 

Everybody thought this.

Galileo figured out that it was the other way around, and he spent his life in jail for what he said.

What was the first step in his figuring it out? 

He accepted the question.  He allowed himself to doubt the appearance, and approached things rationally, from there.

People think "This traditional master has great insight" but it is a nearly impossible thing.  It is like saying "This Geocentrist is a great Heliocentrist"

It just doesn't work.  It is impossible.  It is one way, or the other. 

Today, nobody would talk about Geocentrism.  Why would they?  It is boring.  It is a waste of time.

Genesis: Two Words For One Thing

If there is an icon American religious belief, it is the Bible.

And if there is one story of the Bible that everyone has heard, it is Genesis.

So why not write something about Genesis?

Everyone knows the story.  "God" makes the universe, makes Adam, pulls out a rib and constructs Eve, says have fun but don't eat the apple, the snake comes and says go ahead, so Eve eats it, and she convinces Adam to take a bite, "God" notices their shame, says "You ate the apple!", puts a curse on Eve and kicks them out of Eden.

Life for mankind is more difficult, after that.

The important thing in this story is the apple.  Here, the apple is from the tree of "knowledge of good and evil".  Adam and Eve can do anything in the garden.  They can frolic naked all they want.  There is nothing that is disallowed.  Sex all day.  Sex and sleep, sex and sleep.  Great life.  Anything.  Any amount of sloth.  Whatever they want.

They just can't take a bite of this "knowledge of good and evil".

In the story, this is the one thing that gets them cast out of the garden, when they take a bite of this.

That is actually what the story is saying, for mankind as a whole:  We have all taken a bite of the apple.  The great majority of us continue to take bites of the apple.  Whenever we judge, in our hearts, we take a bite.  We say "I know what is good, and I know what is evil"  and we make life difficult for those around us.  We diminish the shine of our heart.

That's pretty obvious. That's what "knowledge of good and evil" is;  judgement.

And so the path back to the garden is also pretty obvious, for mankind:  Each of us is to clear out our hearts of all judgements  -ALL of them, no matter what they are, and no matter how socially accepted they are.

Jesus's forgiveness, Buddha's acceptance.  Work so your heart gives freedom to others, and don't put conditions on your compassion.

This is actually a very difficult thing to do, without an enormous amount of travel, and tremendously varied experience.

Why is that?

Because you don't know the things you hold until they are brought to you.  You don't know jealousy until you have faced some terribly painful situation with someone you love, for example.  You don't get a chance to clear that unless you face it, and dive directly toward it, while you sit.  You don't get the chance to say "OK that feels horrible.  I have to feel warmth and love down in my stomach again.  I have to wish her well" for whoever it was, in whatever situation, no matter how bad it was.

This is the only way to find the root of jealousy, and pull it out.

It doesn't matter how you act.  Everyone can act OK after awhile.  It matters how you feel, way down deep, to the depth of all you think you are.  That's why the work takes effort.  It would take less effort if more people were doing it, but, today, it's just not the case.  You are on your own.

Now, the more you face, the better, and the less control on your life, the better.  The more different cultures, the better.  Every society has their particular shoulds and shouldn'ts.  You get hit with them all.  You forgive, and as an added bonus, you become comfortable everywhere.

You see in time that there is no way to live, that everyone is actually free, except for the fact that they keep telling each other how to live, in their hearts, in their words.  "Knowledge of good and evil".  Together, as a whole, mankind creates a cage.  There is only one cage, with different colors, in different societal groups.  It is a devious creation, because its strength is a product of us all, and its destruction requires all of our efforts.

Everybody points that way, to the next guy, in some way.  Nobody considers themselves "judgmental"  but everyone holds something, and we are talking here in absolutes.  Remember the garden.  What is "Adultery" in the garden?  The word seems written in stone, but it wasn't given by "god".  It is fed to each of us by the serpent.

This is not to say "Cheat on your wives and husbands".  Of course that would hurt people. 

Jesus was actually asked about "adultery"  His response was "you make it a sin", remember?

So, the point is to destroy what the serpent has fed us.  We are different people, then, with different motivations.  Sex is no longer so much a driving factor.  In a world where all hearts are pure -- which is something that is possible -- each heart gives freedom to all others, every person cares for the next, and there is no sin.

It sounds crazy, but it's not crazy.

But people live their life, and they don't question.  Because they don't question, they cement themselves into a particular position.  There is a shape to their life, and they cast that shape out on others.

Young adults often face this, with their parents.  A successful businessman makes things very difficult for his free-spirited daughter, telling her how she should be serious about her decisions in life, her career, and so on.

That's the thing.  The guy can't say anything else.  If he did, he would, in a way, invalidate his own life.  He would be forced to face himself.  He sees what he says as "love", but it isn't "love", because it is not shining on what the young woman is.  It is shining on what she is not.

So it exists in everyone: "Knowledge of good and evil".

But it wasn't there before.  For each of us, it was adopted, learned. 

And almost nobody in the world ever wishes to invalidate his  life.  Almost nobody wants to face himself.


And this brings you to  the most interesting part about the story of Genesis.

When "God" shows up again, he sees Adam and Eve sneaking around, covering themselves in shame.

That's interesting. 

This is how you know the story is meaningful, because it illustrates how the heart works.  These two things actually come hand in hand:  judgement, and shame.

They are actually the same thing. 

It doesn't seem like it when you hear the words, at first, but it is true.

They are exactly the same thing.

India is going through a transformation.  Traditional society is being upended by western-style, secular life.  Women are running companies in the cities.  Young ladies are going to university, wearing pretty dresses, falling in love.

I was in India a year ago.  I would read, often, of some stomach-churning stories going on, villagers hanging a young woman for having a lover, things like this.  While I was there, a western woman was raped by seven men on a bus.  The driver didn't even stop.

It wasn't happening, before.

Now, there are different forces, moving through Indian society, ramming into each other, like waves.

I loved India.  When I speak about these incidents, I am not talking about "Indians", I am talking about the men on the bus, or the villagers who hanged the young women.

What would cause somebody to behave this way?

A man grows up in a traditional religious village, is told over and over what women are, what men are, and how one must behave, how women must live, and what a young man must and must not do.

He follows along, all his life.

One day he is confronted by young lovers holding hands the way he never could, the way he feels he was never allowed.

And he is forced into something. 

He can either face himself, he can either say "I hate the life that I have led", or he can lash out at the lovers and call it "evil".

It's the same everywhere. Nobody wants to question his life.  Nobody wants his life invalidated.  Nobody wants to face himself.  It is easier to lash out.  It is the easier thing to do.

So you take another bite of the apple.  You say "I know good and evil"

That is the story of Genesis.

Hatred of the self (shame), and Judgement.  They are the same thing, taking us all out, away from the Garden.

The Wisdom of Nothing

Something that you hear all the time, especially in Zen, is how this character or that character has "gained great insight", and so on.

This is a strange thing to say, but it is what you hear, and it is the way most people think when they think of Zen, or meditation.  It is also the way most teachers present it -- the achievement of this great thing -- something deserving of worship.

It is better to say that "insight" is the destruction of what is false, and that things are opposite what the teachers say.  Those of insight aren't to be served.  They are here to serve you.  That sounds crazy.  But it is the truth, and it only seems crazy because of what the traditions have become.

 Back in ancient China, in Lin Chi's time, this was the heart of the phrase "Host and Guest".  Those old monks could have chosen any words they pleased to indicate a comparative  level of insight.  They chose "Host and Guest". 

At first this seems strange.  Why not Master/Student?  Why not simply teacher/disciple?

Think about it.

It is the host who serves.  It is the host who, by his nature, is concerned with the well being of others.  It is the host whose job it is to keep those around him relaxed and comfortable.

This is important!  Because that is what real insight is.  That is the true expression of selflessness -- not a devotion to tradition or master, or a death to feeling, or a death to form, but, simply,  a heartfelt concern for others.


I made a point recently, regarding the problems in the spiritual traditions.  The point I made was that outside of the monasteries, people generally know how to behave.  If someone on your adult softball league starts going through people's gym bags, taking others' belongings, that guy will be given a talking to. He'd have to cut that out.  It wouldn't be tolerated. 

If someone walks around grabbing the crotches of the women, he wouldn't be on the team for long.

That's just the way it is.  That's the normal thing.  People don't want ugliness in their lives, especially at community events, like a softball game.  You want to make sure everyone's ok, and that nobody is harmed.

But it isn't like this in the monasteries.

Only in the spiritual traditions do you get strange behavior.

Nobody ever responds to anything I say.  I don't know why that is.  It was this way in the monasteries too.  Say something like this -- and I would, all the time --  and people just look at you for awhile.

They say nothing, and stare, before changing the subject.

I think they are thinking:  You don't get it, do you?  A softball game?  This is ZEN we are talking about.  This is the most important endeavor there is!  A softball game?  Are you joking?

And they talk and talk about what Buddhism is and is not, or what Zen is or is not, for years and years..  The stick their noses in books, to see what other bald people might have said, in similar situations.  They quote famous Buddhists of the past.  They search and search for someone, or some words, to help them figure out what to do.

My point, again, my old point:  Things are backwards.  The traditions take people away from what we all know.

In a real Zen practice, there would be no worship, of anything.  There would be a good deal of the things that, deep down, we all appreciate the most in our lives -- simple friendliness, cooperation, helpfulness, laughs, and playful challenge.

That is what serious Zen is, actually.  That is its expression, as silly as it sounds.

That's the truth.

Be Passerby

"Be passerby" is from the Gospel of Thomas.

There is the related Zen question too:  "Why did Bodhidharma come from the west?"

If someone asks you this, best to just keep walking.  And, if you are sincere about "knowing" the infinite non-answer to this question, what are you doing following the forms of a monastery? 

What is a life of no attachment?  How does it appear?  What is "emptiness" realized?

A real practice should promote inquisitiveness, experimentation, sharing, and travel.  It is my fantasy that, someday, this will be considered a normal thing -- to walk from one meditation center to another, meet the people there, work with them, have your little dharma debates, etc....  Then go to the next place.

If you think about the lives of the ages, this phrase -- "Be Passerby" --  pretty much sums it up.  You can go right down the list -- Rumi, Lao Tzu, Buddha, Jesus, Bodhidharma, Lin Chi, Mohammad.

That is a who's who of heavyweights.  If you take all the people of the world who subscribe to a known religion/spirituality (Buddhism, Islam, Christianity, Daoism, Zen), then you have maybe 99.9 percent following ideas born of wanderers.

What else were they?

Monks?  Laymen?

Secular?  Sacred?

No.  They were nothing. All of them.

In monasteries, this is one of the points I would sometimes make -- that all these guys were just guys -- travelers.  That's about the only word you could use.  They just drifted around.

It is one of those conversations that goes nowhere.  People just politely smile, and make no response.  It is like speaking to air.  They think I'm an idiot, I guess.

Like my blog.  One comment.  24 posts.  I don't know why I write. 

But it is an important thing, this "be passerby".

Let's say you are extremely sincere about things, and let's say that meditation has changed you.  You can witness the mistakes "you" make, and you can change how you see.  So you can sit, and you can forgive -- deeply, in such a way that your entire world changes. 

When facing an injustice, you always learn a little something when you do this kind of forgiveness.  You see the pain of the other.  You couldn't see it before.

Then what would ask for?  What would you wish for?

Well, nothing.

BUT you would welcome anything.  You would welcome the pleasant things, as you always did, and you would welcome the difficult things, because they give you a chance to grow.  The difficult things are opportunities.  There is something in you that the world has "hit".  Before, you couldn't see it.  Now you can.

Moreover, you would put no controls on the world.  You would offer no set appearance.  The last thing you would do would be to wear a uniform of any sort.  People have a reaction to "monk".  They bow and things.  You don't want that.  You want to see them as they are.

Think of the guy -- Goatama, leaving his father's compound, wearing some old rags.

It is important.  "Be passerby". You wish to see the truth of the world.  You wish to face it.

You are saying "OK world.  Here I am.  I have love.   I have my heart, and it is all I need.  Let's see what you've got.  Come on!  Let's see!"

This is how you come to see.  This is how you come to know the heart of man.

Think about it.  How else?

That's what Buddha did.  And Jesus.  And Mohammad.  And Lin Chi.  And Bodhidharma.

They were annoyed with t he traditional forms of their time, and they spoke against them.  But they weren't speaking out of hatred for the men and women.  They were trying to point out the way of the heart.

Obaku Praises Lin Chi's Hard-Earned Freedom

There is an age old war.  If you want to sound fire and brimstone, you can call it the battle in heaven.

It waged along a one-dimensional line.  One direction is form, and the other is destruction of form.

A woman in a cafe looks across the street and sees a child walking into the street.  She runs across and stops him.  She caresses him.  She finds his parents and brings the child to them.

Her motives are selfless.  They are born of love.  She has no concern, at all, for the rules.  Did she jaywalk?  Who cares!  There is nobody on this earth who can tell her she did anything wrong.  If some idiot tries, she knows they are crazy.  There is no "form" that overrides a selfless intention.  Maybe she gets arrested.  Maybe the cafe owner gets angry because she neglected to pay.  It doesn't affect her.  In this moment, she knows herself.  It is love.  She knows her life.

Virtue has been all but forgotten in Zen tradition.  But it was the whole point, way back when. This little example illustrates the role of virtue, in a true practice. 

A true practice is one of increasing independence, and it is a destruction of internal forms. It is the end of "Buddhist" and "Buddhism".  It is the end of following anything, or anyone.  It is the birth of "knowing what to do".

Obaku walked into the Zendo, saw Lin Chi sleeping there, and banged his stick.  Lin Chi looked up, noticed Obaku, and immediately dozed off again.

Obaku walked along the line and saw the head monk sitting in Zazen.  He pointed toward Lin Chi and told the monk "The young fellow at the end of the hall is doing Zazen.  What kind of delusions are you indulging in here?"

Why did Obaku praise Lin Chi and scorn the head monk?

It wasn't Lin Chi's courage.  Modern Zen masters talk a great deal about Lin Chi's courage, or nerve.  But it obviously wasn't that.  I mean, the guy was asleep.  He was dozing off.  He wasn't demonstrating much of anything, aside from sleepiness.

Lin Chi knew his life-- a knowing earned from selfless deed after selfless deed.  In truth, there is no other way to know your life -- a lifetime of meditation alone won't do it.  He knew his life just as the woman in the story knew hers in the moment she rescued the child.  He didn't have to answer to anybody.  If Obaku was upset with Lin Chi's rest, then it was Obaku's problem.

That is the way it was with Lin Chi -- a freedom born of virtue.  A total disintegration of form.  A life lit by the heart of hearts.

Lin Chi was sleepy, so he slept.  That is what you do when you are sleepy.  There is no "Zen".

Obaku recognized this calm independence, was impressed by such knowing, and scolded, instead, the poor head monk, who likely snapped to attention as Obaku approached.

It really is an age old battle.

The two monks at the river, with the pretty lady.  The first picks her up and carries her across, the other scolds him for touching a pretty woman.  That's the battle again.  It is the same one dimensional line.  One monk has chosen form.  The other has chosen virtue; the destruction of form.

You may look at the Zen tradition today and ask yourself if it is about form, or if it is about true virtue.  Because these are two opposite directions.  Which is rewarded?  Which is punished?

Look closely.  Don't just follow.

You can look at the heros of modern Zen, if you wish.  Suzuki, in the face of scandal, praising Baker for his loyalty to tradition.  Aitken keeping things under wraps for the sake of Zen tradition in America.  Dogen, explicitly equating form with enlightenment. 

Which direction has traditional Zen taken?

What did Bodhidharma say, regarding the propagation Buddhist tradition in China?

"No Merit"

The form was never the point.

What Use Devotion?

I never got the devotion angle.  I just never understood it.  Like everyone, I hear about it all the time.  Japanese Zen masters talk about devoting 30 years to studying under a "master".  The idea of "loyalty" is paramount in Zen.

In all traditions, actually, teachers speak this way, about the importance of commitment to the tradition.

When I first walked into a monastery, I had never sat before.  That is why I went, because a bell is rung in the morning, and it is an easier thing to sit with others, this way, than to do it on your own.

I wasn't very interested in the teachers.  But it wasn't "arrogance".  My reasoning was simply that I understood I had no "insight".  For me, that was fine.  What good would it do to speak with a "master" if I had no means of communicating intelligently?

Could I "learn" my true self?  Could I "learn" what I was (am) before my grandfather was born?

No, of course not.  That is what the cushion is for. 

Back then, I had assumed that everybody thought the way I did.  I assumed that they would just walk into dokusan for a chat, because they didn't like staying silent for so long.

But I have learned that this is actually an extremely rare view.  In fact, I don't know anybody else who sees it this way.

So I will take the time to explain:

Even if you assume all Zen masters are what they claim they are, you have to understand the reasoning:

If  you don't know how you come to see out your own eyes, you have no basis of communicating about these matters with someone who has.

So what use is the "teacher"?

And, even if you say "inspiration", "motivation" and so on, then what if you are already motivated, and inspired?

Looked at another way, is it a satisfactory feeling to have your "motivation" come from someone else?  What does that mean, actually?

Where does "devotion" fit?

More on this later...

Now, let's say you are looking at things from the opposite shore.  Let's say you have come to see how you see out your own eyes -- you have had a real kensho.  If this is the case, you can speak intelligently, and sincerely, with others who have.

So, you are now in a different position. 

But regarding this one thing -- the subject of this post -- devotion -- have things really changed?

Think about it -- why would they?

What you would be interested in, now, is someone who could speak clear truth.  You would be interested in spontaneous argument, and debate.  Above all, you would be most interested in finding someone who could "best" you in such encounters. 


This would be all that you are looking for.

That's not "devotion".

If you are a chess player, you look for challenge.  You seek out players that will give you a workout.

That's not "devotion" either.  It is simply a love of chess.

 In time, through experience, you might, in fact, come to distrust "masters" who adhere to set traditions  and methods.  If they have truly seen for themselves, there is no reason to use the words of others, right?  If they have truly seen, they would welcome the "unplanned", the "unknown".  They would enjoy hearing what comes out of their mouth during spontaneous challenge.  They, like you, would want this.

There would be no reason to resist this, and there is no reason to allow anything to stand in its way.  If you have been to a room, you can talk about that room in your own terms.  You would have a deep wish to do this, in fact.

So, does "devotion" fit, anywhere?

Like I said, through, my view is rare.  I haven't met anyone who shares the same view.  But that might be because the ones that do have to leave.  They might just be scattered about.

Because I've encountered a great deal of the opposite. 

Here are some stories.

The first Zen master I ever spoke to was Denko Osho, at DBZ.  In my first Dokusan, Denko congratulated me for sitting a DBZ sesshin with no experience in meditation (apparently, this was a rare thing). 

But there, in my first sesshin, I would try to avoid going to too many dokusans.  Also, I left the monastery right after, for a couple of days.  I felt changed by the sitting, and I wanted to see what it was like walking around (of all places)  Central Park, on a Sunday, in this new way.

Denko didn't take well to this.  Upon my return, Denko told me, in the very next dokusan that he didn't want to "waste his time" with me.  He told me not to come to dokusan anymore.  When I would show up (sometimes the Jiki makes you go), he would just say "get out" and ring me out.

That went on, pretty much, until he left the monastery.

The next Zen master I spoke with was Eido Shimano.  Denko had left, following a little power struggle.  But I felt the same way about sitting, so I wasn't so interested in who was running the place.

In my first year there, I took off for a few weeks during the summer, to go sit sesshin at the Soho Zendo.  I also went out to San Francisco to visit my sister, and sat a sesshin at SFZC.  When I came back to DBZ to sign in for the kessei, Mr. Shimano spoke disparagingly of my lack of "commitment". 

I laughed at him, a little.  We were in the meeting room, going through the one-by-one ritual of kessei sign-ups.  I told him that I had sat two sesshins in the last few weeks.  The coming sesshin would be my third in five weeks. 

He replied "not... HERE"

I looked at him, wondering where he was coming from.  But he didn't say anything else.

I already wrote about Joshu Sasaki and Bodhi Manda.  He and I had just finished shaking hands when I asked, casually, if everyone had to go to dokusan, every time.  At Bodhi Manda, there were five a day -- more than I've ever seen anywhere else.

This enraged Mr. Sasaki.  He started calling me a stupid, arrogant American, among other things.

I have a lot of stories about this.

I once spent a few weeks at SFZC.  I remember talking to a lady who would always ask me about my travels.  I have been to a lot of places and she was genuinely curious.  Finally I started mentioning that travel is a simple thing, and that it is actually cheap.  In many countries, you can get by for a small fraction of what you spend in the states, especially if you stay awhile -- if you rent a room by the month or something, instead of staying in hotels or guest houses.  Even in a big city like Barcelona, you can get by for not-so-much money.

She replied that she often dreamed of going to these places, but she could not.

So I asked her "why?"

She said she has been studying Zen with her teacher for 10 years, and he told her that if she ever sat anywhere else, he would stop being her teacher.  She didn't want that.

I was sad, hearing this, but I said nothing.

There was some good that came out of all this, for me.

When Denko had told me he didn't want to waste his time with me, I was confused about it, for a couple of days.  I was annoyed to be treated this way. I had recognized some patterns in my life, and this fit a familiar one -- that of doing "well" at something -- work, school, sports, but being dismissed for not showing  "commitment".

In my life, this attitude always confused me.  I didn't understand what it was that antagonized people.

If you have the best record on your team, it should be enough.  If your work is good, it should be enough.  What are people talking about when they talk about "commitment?"  The very conversation would bring be down, because I had heard it so much.  Coaches would like the rah-rah guys, even if they were 3-15 or something.  Even my advisor in grad school sometimes mentioned I did good work, but it "didn't seem like I wanted to be there".

I didn't understand what I did that annoyed people.  Sometimes bosses would say the same sorts of things.  I would keep pointing to my work -- look at all the code in the repository!  Who wrote all that?  What is everyone else doing?  What are you talking about commitment for?

I am not even going to mention women.

There at DBZ, in my second sesshin, I got kind of down, remembering all these things.  One day I even started rolling my head around and mouthing "blah blah blah" during the morning chants.  I was doing things like this, because I was feeling confused about it, and I was tired of it, in my life.

But I suddenly realized something.

I realized that if I felt bad for being dismissed by Denko, it meant that his approval "meant" something to me. Obviously, it was important to me, at the time, or I wouldn't have been feeling despondent.

Why was that?

Well, there really is no good reason.  That is what I realized.

I knew I wanted to sit.  I had a million reason why.  To me, they were all perfectly rational.  I wasn't there for anyone's approval.  I wasn't there to succeed at the word "Zen".

It was (is), in fact, embarrassing to think that I could ever be influenced, so much, by such thoughts as someone's "approval", given what I knew about my own motivations.

Suddenly, sitting there, I got a rush of energy, with this thought.  If Denko, or anyone else, disapproved of my disinterest, in them, then it really isn't my concern.  The guy doesn't understand me, and doesn't care to.  Why spend energy thinking about it?

I redoubled my efforts, lightened from the load of approval/disapproval.

That's the way my sitting has been, ever since.

Off The Tracks

 "And do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind" -- Romans 12:2

"Kill the Buddha" -- Linchi Roku

There is a need that people have -- most all people.  It is a strong one, too -- coming right after food and shelter.  It is the need for spiritual authority.

This need is reflected in all religious belief, and in the adherence to structures of tradition.  It is reflected in most every conversation you hear in a meditation center "I studied with...", or  "I started with Kundalini meditation but have recently been practicing Zen", etc...

There is always something to adhere to -- an idea of "God", or a "master" or a "guru", or a set of lifelong vows -- things like this.

I get the feeling that most people just want to know that they are "good", or "bad".  As long as an important person (or doctrine) tells them so, that's fine.  This is enough to satisfy the need.

Leaving a retreat, I just had a long conversation about this, with a couple of guys.  My point was that meditation only really begins when these needs are forcibly thrown out.  I say forcibly because you are consciously choosing an uncomfortable state.  It is socially uncomfortable.  You are saying there is no particular "way to live", and you are walking a path of extreme independence.

And with this, you are fighting against patterns that have molded your life from birth -- the approval (or disapproval) of authority figures such as parents and teachers, etc.  You are struggling against the inertia of social norms -- the status of a good career, for example.

Taking a jump off the tracks, you have placed yourself "outside" of everything.  You are not interested in other people's definitions of good and bad, successful or unsuccessful.  You didn't build those tracks.  You have chosen to jump off and take your tumbles in the mud, to find, for yourself, what is real.

How else?  People talk about "insight" all the time.  But really -- how else?