Friday, March 27, 2015

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.





Sunday, March 8, 2015

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.




Monday, February 16, 2015

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.

Saturday, February 14, 2015

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?

Tuesday, January 27, 2015

Re: Shimano Archive, It Wasn't About Fujin...

Just want to say, regarding my posts that now appear on the Shimano Archive, that they weren't about the nuns.

They were about Mr. Shimano. 

For some reason, Kobutsu decided to put a picture of Fujin up there, accompanying the post.  I asked him to take her picture down, but he refused.

I only included the nuns' stories because I thought I had to, in order to explain why I had to challenge Mr. Shimano.  My old blog never even mentioned the nuns.

My Shimano post was a long one.  It was long because I was trying to describe the level of deceit at DBZ.  To describe this, I had to include the types of abuses that were going on up there.  That means I had to write about the nuns and, honestly, I did so reluctantly.

Back then, it pained me whenever people described anything as "Jushin vs. Fujin".  To me, it always seemed like this was a way of avoiding the point.  If I was trying to get word to a donor who had been lied to, it wasn't "Jushin vs. Fujin".  It was a donor, and a lie.  If I was trying to make sure 40 paying guests would not be sleeping in bat shit, it wasn't "Jushin vs. Fujin".  It was about the guests and bat shit.

I thought I took pains to explain the difficulties in communicating anything, at DBZ. 

So, for me, it was annoying to see it reduced to "Jushin vs. Fujin", again, on the Shimano Archive.

Because it was never that. 

Like I mentioned in the post, it is impossible to talk to Zen people.  They hear only things that you are not saying.  Always, it's like that -- as though there is no possibility, at all, that anyone could ever be acting out of concern for others.




Monday, January 26, 2015

Probems in Zen? There Were Always Simple Solutions

So all four first generation Zen monasteries were involved in decades of deceit and cover-ups involving sex and finances.

I lived at some of these places.  The level of devotion is unhealthy, and what is not known to most is that the "masters" kept careful watch of the sanghas, making sure the unhealthy environment remained in place.  They never really had any interest in "Zen".   Their sole interest was creating and maintaining a blindly devoted, cult-like group.

What happened at these places required:  1) remarkably deceptive and manipulative character on the part of the master 2)  lack of simple policy and awareness to protect students 3)  secrecy 4) a small number of loyal, devoted followers.

You can't eliminate 1) without committing murder, but you can remove his/her influence, using openness and transparency, and implementing measures that provide choice, within the group.

Actually, this is a simple thing to do.

There are an infinite number of things you can do.

Here are just some:

  1. Separate the notion of "spiritual hierarchy" from operational function of the center.  Include such operational hierarchy only where it is necessary -- work. 
  2. Elect "work leader", periodically, through sangha elections.  Make it known that all sangha members (including "traditional" monks and "masters") are to be treated as equals regarding work (at least, to their abilities).  If a "master" has truly "achieved the ultimate", he would be OK with washing dishes, right?
  3. In an effort to minimize unhealthy "guru"-dynamics, make spontaneous "challenge-response" periods part of practice, where students sit in a circle, and anyone may question anyone else on the subjects of "insight", etc. Provide a mechanism to disallow interruptions.  One way:  everyone has a bean bag.  When one person raises his, it means he will as a question, and nobody else raises theirs.  He tosses the bean bag to the person he will question.  The person answering the question has as long as he/she wants to answer.  When he/she is finished, he tosses the bean bag back to the questioner.
  4. Would it hurt to keep the circle around for normal sits too?
  5. Reduce or eliminate ceremony and liturgy.  If people feel they need this, make it optional, allowing people to sit in the zendo while others attend the devotional practices.  Make concerted efforts to NOT present "leaders" of form, or simplify the devotional forms to the point that "leaders" are changed often, and easily.  Change them all the time.  After one guy leads, he chooses the next guy.
  6. For sesshin, allow up to two talks a day, and allow sangha to nominate speakers from within the group or invite guests.  Do not limit this to "Buddhist" or "Zen".  Compassion isn't "Buddhist", it's just compassion.  You can say the same for wisdom.  Don't sweat the talks.  Put no ceremony around them, so all  would be comfortable speaking spontaneously, with little or no preparation.
  7. Take steps to ensure extraordinary level of transparancy regarding financial matters.  Examples:  post, online, all donations higher than a certain level.  post salaries of all who are on center payroll?  Post approximate costs, per person, of running a retreat, etc. etc.  Keep a blog, online, regarding expansion projects costs, donations.  Elect a treasurer to do these things.
  8. Post, online and in commons areas, center-specific guidelines regarding sexual relations, and harassment policy.  Doesn't even matter what they are, just decide on them and make them.  Include 3rd party contact number of professional counselor.  Include set procedures for dealing with violations.  Make sure every person at the center understands.  Nobody is "above" these rules.
  9. Instead of "traditional" dokusan, allow sesshin participants to select who they wish to meet with, during retreat.  Allow them to meet with their friend, for example, if they wish.  Allow them to choose on a per-day basis (if you are laughing at this idea, ask yourself if you really have the right).  Make only a few dokusans per sesshin -- perhaps only three total.
  10. Internally, perhaps once a month, publish minutes of "resident meeting", where each sangha resident has a chance to speak, or may, alternatively, submit a written post.   Keep these records in a repository.
  11. Minimize the operational difference between "monk" and "layman".   Make these the same thing, as far as how the center is run.  If you are talking about "commitment" to the center, then just call it "one year commitment to the center".  Put no secular/sacred into practice.

This list can go on.  These aren't all "great" ideas.  But they are, at least, very simple ideas.  It is very, very easy to come up with ideas that would make the problems in Zen go away.  It is a simple thing to choose openness over secrecy.

Anyone could actually do things like this, and anyone could have, at any time, during the last five decades.

Wednesday, January 14, 2015

All Children are Solipsist

"The man aged in days will not hesitate to ask a little child of seven days about the place of life, and he shall live; for there are many first who shall be last, and they will become a single one." -- Gospel of Thomas

I am often sad.  Often, I just have no hope for people. 

I often think that people talk and talk about Zen, or God, or "insight", or Buddha, but they actually aren't even interested.  They are interested in adopting belief, or in becoming something (Buddhist, Christian, Monk, Master).  They are interested, mostly, in the comfort of their "place" in the world.   They are trying to define this "person", their "place", or to decorate it.

But...

This actually means they are not interested!  They have no interest in un-becoming!

So, it is all very sad.

But now I am in a good mood, because of something I read.

I just read that many development psychologists believe that all infant children are solipsist, and that, as children grow, they infer that "I" is separate from "other", and, though experience, come to see the world the way the "grown-ups" do.  In time, they differentiate "self" from "other".

Of course that is how it is. 

Still, it is heartwarming to read it in the news.

There are different sub-definitions of solipsism, although the word is sometimes tossed around as if they all mean the same thing.  So, to clarify, I am using, here,  any definition of solipsism that maintains mind as a question, and, through the existence of this question, therefore allows multiple "sentient beings". 

I don't want to get bogged down in the definition. For me, the interesting point is that, within the apparent world, young children see you and me, along with themselves, as "one".

This is a true way of seeing.

Within the grown-up world,  the infallibility of the reasoning behind solipsism keeps the idea around, lurking at the edges of thought, always.  In various forms, it has made entrances in the ideas of Descartes, Berkeley, Schopenhauer, Plato, and nearly every religious "prophet".

Ask yourself this:  What is NOT mind?


Scientists, generally,  will do anything they can to avoid the idea, as anything that hints of solipsism necessarily invalidates the importance of their lives.  Nobody would wish to look back on their years to say they studied the properties of dream-things (such would be a wasteful use of a dream indeed!). 

(Note:  children have no such baggage)

So they fight  the notion.  Scientists sometimes refute the philosophical idea of solipsism altogether by simply noting the creative output of mankind.  To them, this means there are "two or more" minds at work here. 


But this is an obtuse argument, in that it presupposes the mind-is-of-the-body-and-that-tree-is-over-there view, which is a notion that the philosophers are questioning, usually, when they bring up any form of solipsism in the first place.

And, to make things worse (better), you have two of the greatest scientists in history, going head to head, for decades, over the meaning of mankind's greatest (in my view) experimental breakthrough:

Einstein:  Do you really believe the moon isn't there when nobody is looking?
Bohr:  Yes, it's not there when nobody is looking.
I am a big fan of Neils Bohr -- not only for his genius, but for his gentlemanly ability to withstand the full force of none other that Einstein himself.  He managed to do this, for decades, generally coming out on top. 

You would not think it possible to approach the workings of the dreamer only by examining the dream-things.

You have to be a fan of Bohr.

As well, you have to be a fan of every little child.