Monday, November 17, 2014

Egely Kloster, in Denmark

 [Most of this was written a long time ago, on my old blog.  Rewritten here]


The last time I was in Denmark, we started a one month Kessei with 5 people. Denko had kicked out 2 by the second week. They were two 19 year old kids who were on break from University. They had decided to spend their break meditating instead of partying – good kids, and good workers. One had kept asking if he could work with me. I was building the guest rooms and the meditation hall.

The kids were paying guests, helping to start the place, for Denko. They had arrived a few minutes late once, to dinner, and Denko had kicked them out, screaming, angrily.  He said “I don't want to waste my time with them”. 

 One of the kids was very, very upset when he left.

I found another woman, sometime in the middle of Kessei, crying out by a pile of wood. She would occasionally pick up an axe and chop angrily and wildly at the wood. I stood my distance and tried to calm her down. I asked her if she wanted to take a little walk. She eventually sat down and talked to me, for a little while.

There is a great deal of sneering, angry verbal abuse, in some Zen monasteries. I don’t know what this woman had been through. She didn’t say.

It isn't "strict zen", or anything like that.  It is real upset.  It is anger.  The master screams "What is the matter with you?  Are you STUPID?  Can't you put a bowl down right?" at a 19 year old kid whose bowl thumped a little too loudly during lunch.

I deal with it OK, because I consider people who scream about little, meaningless things..  unbalanced...

Some people have a hard time in monasteries.  It is my feeling that, because of this, they look for ways to vent, and it is my theory that they choose targets of their wrath by a simple formula:  scream toward those that will bring the least consequence.  That means choose those at the bottom of the totem pole, or choose the youngest ones, or the ones who do not appear as if they will scream back.

This is the sort of thing the woman at the wood pile was having to deal with.  It is like a constant hammer, on your head, sometimes.

For some reason -- in my opinion a very selfish reason -- such behavior is rewarded, actually, in Zen monasteries.  This is pretty well documented, actually. 

It is a hard thing to describe -- what is rewarded is a kind of militant belief, and a willingness to impose this belief on others, without consideration.  In this way, the hierarchy is forever fortified.

Denko sometimes calls this the "hai" spirit.  "Hai" is the Japanese word for "yes".  It differs from "yes" in that is a word that someone can say very quickly, and with fire.  Denko's opinion is that a "serious" Zen student, when given an instruction from his "master", is to say "hai!", then bow,  and immediately set himself to fulfilling the master's request.

Is that a good thing?

Because, it seems to me, that this air of incredible importance and unquestioned loyalty that many teachers foster does much more harm than good. 

Let me put it this way:  If you say "my tradition is extremely important!!!", then, in your  robes,  how are you not saying "I am extremely important!!!"?

After all, who holds this thing people call "tradition"?  And what is it, anyway?  It is different for every single person.  Every "master", and every one of the "master"'s students pick and choose the bits they consider imiportant.  It is different everywhere.

So what is it really?

So if make this great claim, regarding tradition -- if you believe it is "extremely important", this arbitrary little formula you have arrived at, then how are you not practicing to become a self-centered  egomaniac?

How are you not practicing narcissism?

Somebody tell me.

I mean this as a serious question, because it seems to me that the Zen definition of "insight" is a state of robotic non-feeling, where monks and senior students become more and more assimilated into the hierarchical structure, more and more dependent on monastic form, and less and less capable of  (or interested in) thinking for themselves.

Personally, I see that as a dangerous thing.  I find it a stretch to consider that a master might foster such absolute obedience with "compassion" in mind. 

This thought just never made sense to me.  It seems like a crazy thought.  If I like someone, the last thing that I want is their obedience.  Why would I want that?  How could that be compassion?

But I think I am alone in this view.  In my experience, 100 percent of "committed" Zen students witness what happens in these centers, and all of them -- every single one -- believe that the "master" holds "great insight", and that he enforces the traditional form with such fire selflessly -- purely for the benefit of the students.

I've asked people about Eido Shimano's riches, to hear them respond "Roshi  isn't concerned about money.  Deep down, I am certain he hates all his money!  But people keep giving it to him!"

I've asked people about Joshu Sasaki's habit of grabbing women and pawing them during dokusan, to hear them respond "Yes!  How his mind works is a mystery!  With enough practice, hopefully, we will understand!"

And, always, regarding the abusive screaming, there is one response:  "Zen is tough!  It is the most direct path!  The master is keeping us in line!  This is Rinzai's 'expedient means'!"

Personally, I never saw it that way.   There are an infinite number of ways a group of people may sit together -- truly an infinite number of choices people could show up and spend time on cushions. 

So why do things this way?

Why promote dismissive cruelty?

One morning, during a previous retreat, Denko instructed each of his students to "tell on" the person sitting next to him/her  He would go around the room asking each person "What mistakes did so-and-so make this morning?"

There are certain characters who revel in this game.  To Denko, this is "good Zen".  It is "serious" Zen.

Personally, it is a game that I am loathe to take part in.

As such, I found a way out. 

I once asked Denko's wife what she had thought of all of it, and she gave me an answer that I had heard in many Zen centers.

She said that Denko "keeps her in line".

OK, but towards what exactly? 

Could it ever be good "practice" to behave the way some of these Rinzai "masters" do?

I remember reading about the Inka ceremony of one of Denko's Dharma brothers, back at DBZ.  Apparently the newly crowned "master" was head-butting another monk during the ceemony, causing blood to stream from the monk's nose.  Daido Loori, from ZMM, had been there, at the time.

Witnessing this, Mr. Loori had put an end to DBZ's advertisements in the ZMM newsletter.

Is it too much of a stretch to notice  that Japanese Zen appears like a practice designed to brainwash someone into extreme arrogance, where "masters" are led into thinking "Zen" somehow involves their exercising a (perceived) dominance over others.

I've read some interpretations of Lin Chi's sayings, where the writer (usually a Zen monk or master) reads Lin Chi's "bravado" as great confidence, or "nerve".

I have no doubt that such tremendous arrogance would be beneficial in many walks of life.  I also have no doubt that it must "feel good" to many men who practice Zen.

But that isn't "insight".

That is just arrogance.

And besides, I have a very different interpretation of Lin Chi's seemingly gruff behavior.  If you actually bother to read the Lin Chi record, he isn't screaming at his students.  He is getting in the faces of the "masters", challenging them to prove their insight.  The only time he is seen speaking harshly to his students is when he is admonishing them for their blind faith in the "masters".

So, Lin Chi is actually doing the exact opposite thing today's "masters" are doing.  He is doing the opposite of the the monk's interpretation that I wrote about earlier.

He is telling his students NOT to accept a subservient role, to challenge such convention, and to use their time with their cushion to arrive at "insight", so they may, in time, stand on their own.

So, Lin Chi wasn't after arrogance, or confidence.  He was imploring his students to come to their own understanding.  Only then could they see the falsehood of these "teachers".

The Japanese Zen tradition -- even outside of the DBZ sphere -- really seems like a practice designed only to create such a perception of arrogant dominance.  The costumes and the strict formality really puts this on display.  Students prostrate themselves three times before speaking to the "master".  There is an emphasis on seniority, and "lower" students are treated like dirt.  There are a million little things like this.

(By the way, I wrote a post comparing Zen to the empty hype behind some martial arts here).

Of course, I've had many conversations about this.  People don't see it my way.  Always, people seem to believe the "master" is only acting.  He is making a big show, but he "sees through it"

That's not the case, though.

If you have lived in a monastery and you disagree with me, at least consider if you yourself could behave in such a manner.  You would probably answer "no".  Given this, consider the truth of your theory -- that "insight" is something that would compel you to act the way your "Zen master" does.

Does it still make sense?

Head butting a monk?

Come on...

Anyway, yet another woman left in the middle of sesshin. She was just there to sit for a week. I had never spoken to her, but she had come up to me in day four or so, with a couple of cookies and two cups of tea.

I invited her into the little trailer that I was staying in, which had a tiny table and bench, so she could say what she wanted to say. She asked me why I was there, and I told her I just wanted to sit, and I wanted to help others sit.

 Then she said that I wasn’t like them, and she added “They are crazy!”. She went on. She said “They think they are right, but they are wrong!”, and I just nodded.

The woman thanked me for speaking with her. She told me that she easily could have finished sesshin, but she didn’t want to appear as though she supported the place.  She couldn't stomach that thought.  Her leaving was a kind of personal protest.  For her, it was the right thing to do.

These are sentiments that I, too, have struggled with, over the years, in the places I have sat.

Three people had left, including this woman. It was getting to the point where the screamers would have to pay people off the street, else they would have nobody to belittle.

Finally, there came a kind of crisis. Denko was furious, about something. He and the Jiki had been considering calling off the kessei altogether. Denko didn’t show up for the evening sit. People were wondering where he was.

A meeting was called, and we all met Denko in the dining room. He had been alone for a few hours.

It turned out that  was angry because nobody had bothered to move the altar into the meditation hall. In the afternoon, we had all moved it into the hallway. Denko had to go and move it back himself.

At the time, I had actually stopped by the Zendo to sit by myself for a few minutes, because it was a long break. I didn’t sit though, because I had seen Denko setting up the altar, and had asked him if he needed help. He had told me he didn’t need any help.

He had seemed angry then, so I didn’t stick around.  I had taken a walk instead.

Denko didn't respond to me, when I had mentioned this.  He expressed his view that nobody seemed to be taking the practice seriously.  Nobody remembered to move the altar back.  Denko asked everyone to think about what to do.  We were to come up with ideas regarding how to proceed.  We still had half a month left.  Did we even wish to sit?

The next day, during morning meeting, the group was still in crisis mode. Denko wasn’t angry anymore, but had sort of thrown in the towel on the kessei. He asked for the remaining students to offer ideas on how to proceed.

Personally, I don't know what meditation has to do with little Buddha figurines.  I don't consider them important.  I had already watched, in sadness, as students were yelled at and kicked out.  So I mentioned that there was no reason to be angry over (what amounts) to a doll set.

That’s how I saw it --  grown man, having a temper tantrum – a real temper tantrum -- over a little doll set. I added that I don’t like it when people leave, and I saw no reason why people should be screamed at the way they were.

If the doll set is truly so important, to Denko, then he should be happy at the chance to set it up himself, right?


So why the anger?

I mentioned this too, to Denko, offering that everyone there was basically helpful.  If they saw him actually working on something with friendly enthusiasm, they would want to help him.  In the Japanese tradition,  you never see the "master" doing anything.  Things are very formal.  The "master" rarely descends to the level of the "lay students".  For some reason, the "masters" like it this way.

I mentioned that the kids who were kicked out were helpful, and that they were offering to help me build the guest rooms.  Everyone was trying to help, and everyone wanted to sit.  It is just hard to do that if all you hear are insults.  It is hard to do that when the "master" doesn't appear willing to help with the necessary work, himself -- especially if all you see is bad mood.  We were paying students, after all, paying to work 9 hours a day, just so there would be a place to sit in Denmark. 

If you think about it, who, then, can you say, was truly "serious" about Zen?  The "master" or the 19 year old kids he kicked out?

I see it one way, Denko sees it the opposite way.

By this time, there was really only two other people who you could safely call “students”. There was the head nun there too, and the Jiki. That was it.

The head nun and I got along pretty well. She asked that I go for a drive with Denko. On the drive, I asked Denko what he was doing. I asked him if he realized that he was the only one who was upset, and what that meant.

He responded that a Zen kessei is a crucible, and that people need the discipline.

I asked “for what?” and I pointed out that there would have been three more people sitting there, helping build his monastery, without this particular style of “discipline”.

Denko asked me “well, what do you want me to do? APOLOGIZE?”

Denko had asked this question as though it was an outlandish thought, as though it was impossible for anyone to consider that a Zen master might say he’s sorry.

I had recently read "Zen at War".  I actually had it in my backpack, back in the trailer.  I suggested that an attachment to traditional form is still attachment, with the same dangers as attachment to anything else.  I offered Denko the book.

He said, gruffly, "Not interested".

That was pretty much the end of the talk. I didn’t say anything.

Zen is sick. It is difficult to describe the things you see, because people have an idea of “Zen”. They have assembled this idea from phrases they have heard, from kung fu movies they have seen, and from fantastic, serene images they have been exposed to.

If you tell the true stories, you sound like you are attacking. A grown man can spend a month in a temper tantrum, over some tiny wooden carvings, kicking out half the paying group, calling them stupid, and yelling that they are "not worth his time", all in the name of Buddha.

And you are not even allowed to mention it.

 If you do, you lack “perfect serenity”

Go live in a monastery. It isn’t what you think.

I sometimes ask myself if these teachers have the basic ability to see what they are doing.  When they talk about "acceptance", where are they looking?

Whose acceptance are they talking about?

Everyone else's?

I have a little story, regarding this thought.  I'll tell it at the end of this post.

Since the time that I was there, Denko and his wife has changed the "style" of practice.  When websites started popping up about Eido Shimano, Denko's teacher of 15 years, Denko visited a Tibetan teacher, had a new "life-changing experience" and adopted Dzogchen into his practice.

His claim , now, is that his "direct" Rinzai Zen style doesn't suit Westerners.  Westerners, apparently, prefer the "indirect" route of Dzogchen?

The "Dzogchen" style is more popular in Denmark, I guess.  Denko claims that nobody has left his Sangha since his  Dzogchen illumination.

I find this strange.  It feels like Buddhist marketing, to me.  I was never one for the nomenclature.  I try not to talk about meditation.  I find it a little bit of a trial to listen, at length, to someone's comparison of Kundalini vs. Dzogchen vs. Zen vs. Goenka vs. Chakra etc. etc.  The way I see it, if you talk about these words, then you aren't really there to meditate. You are there to put some words on display, for some reason.

Regarding my view on the change of styles, I don't think I am being cynical about Denko's place, especially if you look at the timing of things.  At the moment the online community starts discussing the truth of characters like Eido Shimano and Joshu Sasaki, all of their devoted followers suddenly find compassion.

After 30 years, Ms. Chayat, at DBZ suddenly starts delivering long speeches about the need to protect women.  After 30 years, the monks at Baldy suddenly start talking about how students must think for themselves and confront dishonesty head on.

Denko, after 20 years, suddenly sees the light.

Think so?

Well, I will end with the story I had mentioned.

Are these men even interested in what they are talking about?

It is certainly an important question, especially in the context of Japanese Zen's military style (and direct historical ties to Japan's armed forces).  Such a form demands total, soldier-like commitment, and this is explicitly expressed, in nearly every Zen monastery I have visited.  Most Zen teachers relate stories of the the stark, austere lives they led during the many years they spent practicing under their "master".  The idea is, this type of commitment -- to a particular "master",  is necessary.  The strict form is good.

On to the story, because I can't help seeing things the other way.  I can't help but see Zen as upside-down.  In my view, the "masters" have little interest in actually doing what they talk about.

Once, during sesshin, Denko was giving a teisho about “non-discriminating mind”. A teisho lasts about an hour and a half. An hour of that is talking. The rest is bells and gongs. Denko was talking the way all Zen masters do. “Once you can see, then you will be no different from the ancients.. " etc. etc.

 But, what was funny, was how he ended this “non-discriminating mind” teisho. He was talking about the commitment required to “realize” this mind. He said that, to take up this great effort, one must formally ordain as a monk, and that this wasn’t a pursuit for “just a layman”.

You hear these things all the time, in Zen. You are not allowed to say anything about it. But it is just too much, sometimes…

Like this time.

"Non-discriminating mind" can describe something few people have seen, but there is also a real point to it -- a heartfelt point.  Because in the stream of one's life, it only really matters in the space between you and others.

So I asked Denko “What is ‘monk’?”

The Jiki, the head nun, and another woman started screaming, telling me to shut up.

That’s Zen.

Finally, when they quieted down, Denko took a deep breath and said, solemnly, “A monk is someone who has committed his life to the pursuit of the Dharma”

That wasn’t the question, actually. The question was “what is ‘monk’?” I could have just as easily asked “what is ‘layman’”.

But at least it was an answer, so I asked “what were you before you ever heard the word ‘monk’?”

There were more screams, before Denko said, slowly, and proudly “I am, and always have been, a monk.”

Non discriminating mind.

Monk/Layman.

This is an age old theme.

Actually, in Zen, there really is no older theme.

You could call this idea the birth of Zen.

It is the general form of Bodhidharma’s “no secular/sacred”. It is pretty simple. It is something nearly everybody can understand. But Bodhidharma had noticed something dark way back when. He was surprised by the ones who don’t understand – the ones who never got it, and never will.  He was surprised at the direction the traditional teachers had taken.

He tangled with these people, the Buddhist masters of southern China.

Some things never change.

If you can’t understand “non-discriminating mind”, you don’t need “insight”, you just need a Webster’s dictionary, and an ability to notice, in yourself, when you are making a mistake – when you are straying from the dictionary definition -- when you see one side as "better" than the other -- when you see the divisions as something important.

If you can see the mistakes, then you know that, somewhere in your heart, is “non-discriminating mind”. And, with your sitting, and your life, you just head that direction. That is really all you need. The simple, intellectual understanding is enough. Really, all you need is a dictionary -- that and your own heart, I suppose.  Every decent person has a degree of understanding, with this one.

Everyone but the “Masters”.

1 comment:

  1. Looking at these so-called "heirs" of the flawed characters of shimano & sasaki, is truly pitiful.

    ReplyDelete