I'm a
Buddhist, a Zen Buddhist no less, and this is my first contribution
here. Since I practice Zen, there is time spent in meditation on a
cushion. Do I think I'm going to get all enlightened by doing it? No,
no more than it would give me a mirror-like shiny brick (read about
Mazu if that seems a totally incomprehensible metaphor). Dogen said
that zazen (i.e.
seated meditation) is
enlightenment, but not in the, “I sit zazen,
ergo I am so freakin' enlightened,” kind of way. When fully
immersed in the sitting, just sitting, not picking and choosing, not
having the conversation in my head, not being perturbed by the noisy
car going down the street, but also just noticing the conversation in
my head, noticing that I am perturbed by the noisy car, letting the
thoughts slide away as quickly as they came, and not placing value
judgments on whether having thoughts of any sort is good or bad, or
that some thoughts are better than others, it's just sitting, just
thinking, just smelling, just experiencing reality as it is at that
moment, and then experiencing reality directly in the next moment, ad
infinitum.
Zen sometimes is criticized as
“quietist,” that the practice is on the cushion, maybe broken up
by periods of walking, but largely centered on the cushion. This
didn't just come out of thin air, we do
spend a fair amount of time on the cushion. I haven't done an
empirical studies, but from my own practice, it's probably about
three times as much time spent sitting than anything else I do in the
Dharma Hall—namely walking meditation, dharma talks, chanting,
bowing. Practice in the 21st
Century US may be different from a Tang Dynasty monastery in China,
at least in quantity of time spent meditating on a daily basis.
Although “No work, no food,” may have been the reality of
monastic life then, I'm guessing that the work/eat/meditate ratio was
probably skewed toward the meditate side more than the others, and
certainly more than my own practice allows for today. Not better, not
worse, not good, not bad. Just different, especially given the ages
we live(d) in respectively.
I
heard a priest at my old sangha remark that meditation is one of the
few karmically neutral things one can do. So, by that equation, the
rest of the day is spent...creating whole bunches of karma. An
orchard's worth of karmic fruit, just ready to drop onto my head and
become another habit, another resentment, another
attachment....Hopefully, while back on the cushion I can get my “mind
right,” as Strother Martin in Cool Hand Luke
might have said. (Wouldn't want to spend the night in the Samsara box,
after all). And that leads of course to the whole basis of Buddhist
practice, the Middle Path.
The
Middle Path was once described to me by another teacher as driving on
an unpaved country road. Veer off too wide on one side, end up in a
ditch, too much the other, drop off a cliff. I'm clever enough to
understand that either of those extremes would lead to various
degrees of unpleasantness. And before anyone says, “But the Buddha
would have accepted dropping off a cliff with peaceful, calm
equanimity,” I'd like to preemptively mention that the metaphor of
the road was to prove a particular point, not as a launching pad for
Dharmic hypothesis. That point is that the Middle Path will work out
better than heading off into either extreme...and that balance is not
that brief moment spent in the center of the widely swinging pendulum
between excessive indulgence and, “Oh, if this hangover ever goes
away, I'll never
drink again.” After all, wasn't it total indulgence +
total asceticism = no solution
that led to, “Better sit under that tree and contemplate this whole
birth, old age, sickness, death thing a little further.” And yes,
whenever I imagine what Siddhartha Gautama's internal thoughts might
have sounded like, he talks just like me!
Amazing!
While
Dharma as the “Law of All dharmas” includes the reality limited
by one's perceptions and feelings and impulses and consciousness, it
also includes that which can't be perceived, felt, done or
contemplated—the unlimited. So just knowing that there are things
out there we know, things we don't know, and things we know we don't
know, in addition to things we don't even know we don't know, that
enables the Middle Path down the rutted road of “Don't Know” to
put it all in perspective. At least the humility and acceptance, the
non-egocentric stance that “all I know is what I can see directly
myself and the rest of it doesn't exist” attitude that emphasizes
“I, I, I, I, I” can possibly be increased by some time on the
cushion.
And
meditating is a good thing for Buddhists to do, being Buddhists and
all. After all, that's what the Buddha did. He sat down Siddhartha
stuck in dukkha, stood
up awakened as Buddha. So we sit, but with no gaining idea. Just
sitting doesn't turn one into a Buddha, any more than chanting,
bowing, walking, standing or reclining will. Just like Siddhartha,
we're already Buddha, but need to do a little work in order for that
to come to the fore. We need to put in the effort to scrape the
barnacles of delusion off the raft of awakening.
So if
just sitting on the cushion doesn't guarantee “enlightenment,”
and neither does much of anything else, then what is there? We can
start by taking our peaceful, calm equanimity, our deep samadhi,
(whether it feels
like we have them or not) and go into the marketplace, the world at
large, and the small world we spend so much time in. We leave the
cushion in the Dharma Hall, but take the cushion with us. The
Bodhisattva vows say we will save all sentient beings, all of them,
not just the ones we like, not the ones who can be saved
conveniently, all of them. But how? If we take the meditation with us
wherever we go, then we are taking something that generates neutral
karma in and of itself, so that's not a bad thing, right? But of what
practical use is this?
Not
doing harm is a good start on taking the Middle Path on the road, but
that can be somewhat like not shoving somebody into a ditch. There
are a number of Buddhist organizations such as Zen Peacemakers,
Engaged Buddhism, temples/monasteries that run hospice programs,
groups that bring meditation into schools and prisons and so on.
Group work is a wonderful thing, as the talents of a diverse number
of people coalesce into collective abilities, and hopefully the
ability is put the intention and talent into concrete action. When
we're off our cushions as individuals the scope of what can be done
may be smaller, but not less effective in this sentient being-saving
job of the bodhisattva. Habitat for Humanity doesn't send one person
out to build a house, but 150 people aren't needed to comfort a
crying child. Only one person saying “Mind is Buddha” may be
enough. (Yes, another somewhat cryptic Mazu reference).
And
I'm not saying that you have to go out and end all wars, maybe just
start by not supporting them or participating in them. Think that
vegetarianism would end the suffering of sentient animal beings?
Wonderful, now put down the hot dog! Think that vegetarianism isn't a
requirement? Wonderful! Don't waste so much food. Think lying was a
way to keep out of trouble that started when you were a little kid?
The tell the truth! Think road rage an issue? Watch the rage, be
fully enraged, then let it pass without goading it on and engaging in
conversation with it over tea, and wave that person into the lane in
front of you.
If
there's a pattern in all this—and what is karma if not a
continuation of patterns—it would be that it all involves our
thinking, our perceptions, feelings, impulses, consciousness. That's
right, all those things that Avalokiteshvara noted as empty in the
Heart Sutra. In practical terms, that means my not believing
everything I think is reality. If I have an opinion, all that means
is that I think it's
real and correct, and if yours is different, I
think you're wrong. Key words in that sentence: I
& think.
One
thing Zen teaches is that seeing one's True Nature is Awakening. That
doesn't mean that all those superficially nasty things you do, “Oh,
that's just so-and-so being him/herself. It's their nature,” are
actually your True Nature. That's just yet another noticeable
collection of habits, even coping skills and survival instincts that
work...until they no longer do. Observing those habits, seeing them
for what they are and how effective they are, or no longer are, then
have the courage to let them go. It's a start on realizing True
Nature. Shedding those layers of greed, anger, ignorance, clinging,
aversion and all the rest lead toward that True Nature. But “lead”
is a misleading word—there is nowhere one needs to go—it's right
here, right now, all the time, just obscured. Because there are
clouds doesn't mean the sun isn't shining behind them. Maybe for
right now you can't see it, maybe it feels like you'll never see it
again, but it's there.
So
what is this “it?” What is this seemingly esoteric notion of True
Nature? It's just the natural state of metta,
that non-attached lovingkindness that we innately have for everyone
and everything, but is sometimes so difficult to come out.
May
all beings be happy. I vow to do my part to help that happen. Go
ahead, cut me off when driving, I won't flip you off. It's a start.