In These Uncertain Times

The first time I heard the phrase “in these uncertain times “ on a television commercial, I thought how sympathetic it was, acknowledging people’s fear and discomfort, across this world, as a result of a disease. Then, after the 80th time and my eyes and ears glazed over and started feeling like sympathy was being commodified so these fearful people would buy more stuff from these supposedly sympathetic merchants that somehow would be comforting, that would restore some sense of predictably, it dawned on me: When are times certain? 

Impermanence is one of the Three Dharma Seals—everything is changing, changing, changing. But if everything is changing, is that any different from it being still? Same as still? Everything is perfectly still, perfect as it is, even when that’s uncomfortable. And as it changes from moment to moment, all of this good/bad is just thinking. If everything is in constant motion, then how is that changing? If nothing is ever in the same place twice, doesn’t that become the baseline, the ground from which it all springs? If there were only light, there’d be no reason to bother having the word dark. Dark would only be a mental concept. If everything is always in flux, why do we invent the concept of static? We make our own opposites, we create duality where there is none.

Richard Clarke translated Sencan’s Xinxin Ming:

“Do not remain in the dualistic state;

avoid such pursuits carefully.

If there is even a trace

of this and that, of right and wrong,

the Mind-essence will be lost in confusion.

Although all dualities come from the One,

do not be attached even to this One.”

Shitou Xiqian, great Chan sage wrote something called CAN TONG QI—merging of difference and unity. This is part of it, as translated by JC Cleary:

“Each sense and every field

Interact and do not interact;

When interacting, they also merge -

Otherwise, they remain in their own states.

Forms are basically different in material and appearance,

Sounds are fundamentally different in pleasant or harsh quality….

The four gross elements return to their own natures

Like a baby taking to its mother;

Fire heats, wind moves,

Water wets, earth is solid.

Eye and form, ear and sound;

Nose and smell, tongue and taste -

Thus in all things

The leaves spread from the root;

The whole process must return to the source;”

So of course these times are uncertain, but only because we think times are or can be certain.we think phenomena have a self-nature, even though everything we’ve ever heard is that all conditioned phenomena have no self nature, that they are all characterized by emptiness. But we’re shocked by how that lack of self-nature comes out. Most days just slide one into the next, even when the unexpected comes along, it’s easy enough to ignore. Water is wet, but when the water cooler is out of water and it’s dry, it’s no big deal. 

But there are those other times when we feel like we’re hanging by our teeth from a branch dangling over a hungry tiger, and with a swordsman at the base of the tree in front of us. We’re standing on top of a flagpole with nowhere to go. We can hang on for as long as we can, trying to impose order when there really isn’t. But the baseline is still there, that baseline of perpetual change, that baseline of all change being no change, of uncertainty.

We can choose what we like and don’t like, we can say this is good, that is bad. It’s not good and bad, reality doesn’t need our validation to just be. Water is wet, Fire is hot, ice is cold. Uncertainty is uncertainty. 

Step off the flagpole, help all beings. Unclench the jaw, “how may I help you?” See reality for what it is, wipe out the self-centered preferences, and take on the selfless act of realizing your True Buddha Nature, return to the source that was never left, and help all beings, even in “these uncertain times.” 

You’re Soaking in It

Something we hear, see, even taste, touch, or a thought pops into our heads generates some interest. And, that interest piques our curiosity, and then we want to find out all we can about it.mAccumulating information about the Patriarchs and Sages, the Ancestors, their quotes their teachings, nothing wrong in it. And then...

Zen. One of the Great Teachings of Zen is there is no teacher, no teaching to be done, and no one to be taught. That's not just Zen teaching; it's in any number of Sutras. But even the Sutras say there's no teaching. And even though the word “teach” is used, that's not quite the gist of any of the Noble Truths, or Absolute Truth, or Relative Truth. It wasn't like the Buddha was inventing something new, nor did he ever say he was. All these things were already “Truths,” not theories. One could say that the “Four Noble Theories” would be an interesting twist, but the existence, cause, end, and means to end struggle and dissatisfaction are givens; they're there even if we don't notice it, even if we deny it. Believe the earth is flat all you want, but there's this evidence to the contrary, and then….

Ironically, “Teaching” is referred to all the time, sometimes within a Sutra or Kong’s-an that states there is no teaching. Rather than teaching, the Buddha and the Sages revealed, uncovered, clarified, reduced, and explained a methodology. Sometimes with all the lovingkindness, and sometimes less so, at least on the surface. The Shurangama Sutra could have been retitled “The Tathagata Reads Amanda the Riot Act Sutra.” The overall feel of it is, “Were you paying attention?!? After all these years, right by my side, and you think what?” Perhaps I'm projecting too much of myself into that, but there's a lot of refuting and clarifying in that Sutra. The Sutras tend to go along those lines--ask one of the bhikksus a “What do you think…” question, followed by a “Well said, well said,” and then a little more explanation. Somewhere between, “What do you think,” and “Well said,” the student answers with the Truth that had been there all along.  That's all any of the Sutras are: Skillful explanations of Truth.

Likewise, Zen teachings are no more than explanations. For some, the explanation lit that Great Cosmic Lightbulb over the listener’s head, sometimes it may have taken a touch more work on the part of both student and teacher. Sometimes that work involved a shout, the obligatory stick hit, maybe even some grandmotherly kindness, sometimes cutting a cat in half. In all cases these were a means to get to something: Truth. Be it Noble, or True Nature, just Truth. And what is Truth? It is reality, nothing more, nothing less. No exaggerations, no back stories, no embellishments, no falsehoods, no deception or denial, just reality as it is. Philosophers may debate whether Truth exists, or if it’s purely subjective, but what they’re debating isn’t Truth. It’s not not-Truth, the debating is Truth, the answer isn’t necessarily. Call it Truth, Facts, Reality, Bob, or “Just this,” Truth is. Or maybe more accurately, Truth is…”....”

Delusion, denial, destitution, dereliction, birth, no-birth, rebirth, no-rebirth, karma, no-karma, self, no-self, peace, war, and anything else that can be imagined is Truth too. The fact that we do, think, or say all kinds of really wacky things is Truth. It happens, we do it. Facts is facts, but fighting against facts is facts too, along with fighting ourselves over having fought the fact. All that may be less than noble, but it’s Truth. “True Nature,” at its heart wouldn’t include greed, anger, and delusion, but Truth does. Realization of One Mind is Truth, but so is clinging to a stubborn self-centered Self.

How do we get to the Truth? There’s no getting away from Truth. We needn't move anywhere, we needn't amass more information, and most of all, needn't have the false notion that we are lacking something. Does that mean we give up study, reading, and listening just because they use words? Using reasoning and reading won’t do it, even though we read and reason, and therefore that in itself is Truth. Rather than trying to accumulate more information and knowledge for anything other than to know more things, thinking that will deliver some ultimate Truth, maybe trying just to notice what’s right here, right now, right in front of, around, and behind us, all ten directions.

Rather than going on some eternal search, a quest to attain some Great Spiritual State only to arrive where we never left. It’s not thinking more, it’s not thinking less, it’s not not-thinking, it’s just paying attention. What was your original face before your parents were born? Don’t give it a second thought, or even a first thought. If you think thought is bad, think again, or not-think again, just pay attention. That’s all Truth, but it’s not a big deal. Just doing something that is helpful to someone else is True Nature, it’s Truth.

I’m soaking in Truth. We’re all soaking in Truth. Don’t bother with the towel, it won’t dry you off. Truth? You’re soaking in it.

Not-Perfect, Not-Imperfect

At this time of year, the Buddha could have just walked down 34^th Street, pointed to Macy's, and said, “Dukkha,” and everybody would have gotten the First Noble Truth without a second word needing to be spoken. But 'tis the season of giving. Bright, fresh-faced, rosy-cheeked children sitting lovingly on Santa's lap in the department store, the jolly Salvation Army bell-ringers with kettles overflowing with donations, peace on earth, good will toward men, fake snow on palm trees in Australia and Africa, and all the rest of the Norman Rockwell world that is the holiday season associated with Christmas. Religious or secular, here it is, the time when people give. I could go into the realm of conspicuous consumption, commercialism, what's ostensibly a Christian holiday (with possible pagan origins) being thrust upon the rest of the world as a capitalist orgy, and I guess I just did. But that's not news.
Reality may be slightly different than the greeting cards might imply. It's not all “peace, love, and crunchy granola.” Families get together for the first time since the last wedding, last funeral, or last Christmas. And quite often, telling the difference between Christmas and one of the other two may not be easy. There's a good chance of excessive consumption of alcohol, much wailing and gnashing of teeth, arguments, and resentments. And then there are the funerals. Along with all that, there is a sense of being placed sometimes forcibly, into the role of gift-giver. Maybe random names are drawn from a hat at the office, where you get to play “Secret Santa,” which invariably results in wondering what face that name goes with, or maybe worse, drawing your boss's name: “Don't want to look unappreciative, so it's gotta be nice, but it can't be too nice, or he'll think maybe I don't need that pay raise.” What do you get for the person who...you don't even know, much less know what s/he has and wants/needs more of, or something that shows you care, or that they'd even like?
'Tis the season of giving, of giving grudgingly, mandatory giving, guilt-laden giving and the occasional giving associated with warm feelings for someone, out of compassion, maybe just to see the smile on someone's face when they receive something donated anonymously, and of being OK with someone appreciating a gift or maybe not. There's probably some of all the above to varying degrees with all of us. There are some assumptions in all these situations: A) There's a giver; B) there is a gift; C) there is the recipient of said gift from the aforementioned giver.
The first of the Six Perfections (Paramitas) is dana, or generosity. By the very act of giving, we release attachment and clinging, at least in a best-case scenario. Generosity is a perfection, so it must be a good thing, right? The temptation might be to renounce all our worldly possessions, to assume a post-ghost Scrooge stance, showering the world with all the worldly goods we can. And that's fine, so long as it's done in the actual spirit of generosity.. If we are generous just to be generous, without any expectation of reciprocation, maybe anonymously, Wonderful! Even if we are generous with maybe a tinge of puffing ourselves up, maybe to get a little pat on the back, Wonderful! Do it anyway, with more practice, maybe that will wear off. Maybe not. I'd guess the homeless guy who just received a gift of food really doesn't much care about the motives of the giver. There's just, “Mmmmm.” Perhaps spending some time on the cushion, looking deeply at our motivations might be in order though.
Then there's the version of the recipient actually asking for a handout. The original Sangha, including the Buddha, relied on donations of food and shelter. It's common practice in many countries that there is a day set aside for the laity to make donations directly to the monks. I'm not fond of megachurches and ashrams demanding donations, especially when the clergy end up living lives of wealth and fame. That's fine, it's just not where I'd choose to send my generosity, any more than to the organizations who run the $1,000 per week meditation retreats. Go to any Zen center website, and more often than not, there's probably a “donate” button. That's fine too. The Dharma is free, but mats, cushions, incense, rent, etc. tend not to be. So go ahead, donate. The Zen Center probably needs donations to stay afloat, and trust me, being a Zen priest isn't exactly the way to wealth and fame. (If you'd like to further investigate the commodification of Zen in the West, Dōshim Dharma wrote a book entitled “Brand-Name Zen,” which details all this quite well).
In China, where the peasantry probably had virtually nothing to give, Master Baizhang Huaihai is attributed with having set up the dictum of, “No work, no food.” Apparently when his student monks hid his tools because a Great Sage shouldn't have to do such menial chores as planting and spreading manure, Baizhang essentially went on hunger strike. This wasn't out of some Zen Master pouting, it was his way of living the ethic of “No work, no food.” It could be said that the monks' generosity to the peasantry was that they didn't demand that they support the temple. Baizhang generosity was to set the example of no one being special. There's also the story of the monk living alone as a hermit being visited by robbers one night. He remarked to them that they must really be in need, so he gave them what possessions he had--the clothes on his back. The monk's generosity, much less the sight of a naked monk, did nothing to deter them from stealing however.
My writing this, instead of finding someone in need of something and giving is probably “self” indulgent. I can justify it in terms of the Dharma being a gift, that any insight I might have that saves all beings demands it must be shared. If I really looked on this cold wintry night at 1:00 AM, I could probably find someone who needs something. But maybe someone will read this and be moved to find that homeless guy and give him a sandwich. Whatever merit is accrued can be dedicated to some other sentient being. It does call for some time on the cushion to investigate this further.
As I mentioned previously, there are three grounds to generosity: the giver, the gift, and the recipient. If any of the three is missing, then generosity is merely a concept, not an action. And our practice is all about action. “It is better to give than to receive” is at best a miscalculation if not downright wrong. “Lie” might be too strong a term for it, due the three grounds of generosity, but it falls way short of the entire process of generosity. Someone gave me the idea to write this. That's right, gave me the idea. I accepted it. It was an entirely natural process, give idea, receive idea, no thought required. That's much different from “No, I couldn't possibly accept this from you.” That attitude does nothing but perpetuate superiority, the duality of self/other, and give rise to false humility. It's as “I, I, I, I” “want,” want,” “want” as one would see in Macy's any of these days.
One of the acts of generosity that can be performed is to receive. There's no, “Oh, I couldn't possibly” to it. There's no false “I”-based motivation to it, if done in the true spirit of generosity. The Second Precept is “Do not steal; do not take that which is not freely given.” A corollary of that is to graciously and without attachment accept that which is freely given. Not to do so is in effect stealing the opportunity from someone to practice the First Perfection. Who am I to deny you the opportunity to perform the Perfection of Generosity? Would I deny you the opportunity to meditate or act morally, or any of the other Perfections? So far as I'm concerned, the “I-ness” involved in that is potentially as dangerous to the well-being of all beings as being greedy. Self-lessly giving is best accompanied by self-lessly receiving. To paraphrase the Diamond Sutra, if you think of yourself as a Bodhisattva, and that are beings to save, and saving to be done, you're not a Bodhisattva. But regardless, we act as Bodhisattvas and save all beings. Giver, gift, and recipient are all subject to causes and conditions and characterized by emptiness as giver and gift, but in the spirit of the Bodhisattva, give a gift, and just as willingly, receive a gift. Now go out and find a homeless guy and give him a sandwich. Thank you. You're welcome.

Yep, It's Still OK

To recap a blog I wrote here a couple months ago ("No, Really, it's OK"), my partner had just been diagnosed with breast cancer. There was some question as to whether chemotherapy would be needed, but at the very least radiation was required after the surgery. To make a 6-week long story short, radiation finished today. Five days a week for six weeks, radiation. Tomorrow, no more radiation.

In the previous blog I remarked how neither of us panicked about it, or projected too far ahead, and for me, that was a credit to my practice. I'm sticking with that. The main difference between the way she handled it and I did, was that when she heard chemo was a possibility, she went out and bought hats, and talked to her hairdresser about what to do about the possibility of hair loss. The furthest I went down that road was to volunteer to sympathy-shave my head, and that was basically an excuse to do that. (How many Zen priests do you know with full heads of hair, I ask you?)

Zen Master Seung Sahn told a story about when he was in the hospital for heart problems. His doctors suggested to him that he might try meditating to help his heart heal. If it had been me in the bed, I might have given them one of my "one-eyebrow-raised-in-chagrin" looks, but Dae Soen Sa Nim smiled and said he'd give it a try. This was back in 1977, so meditation was the cool new thing at the time, I suppose. He did meditate, and his heart problems lessened fairly quickly. But what he told the doctors was that this "fix your body" meditation was not correct meditation. 

"Clear mind," [he] told them, "means moment to moment, what are you doing now? When you are with your patients, only 100% keep doctor's mind. When you leave the hospital and you are driving home, 100% keep driver's mind. When you meet your wife, 100% keep husband's mind. This means, each moment, only go straight--don't make 'I', 'My', 'Me'. If you make 'I', 'My', 'Me', then your opinion, your condition, your situation appear. Then, you have a problem".
 
For the doctors, when they were operating, they just operate. When driving, just drive. Those are some pretty clear examples of those "life and death" times when intense concentration and reflexive action are called for. But in mundane daily life, where are not those "life and death" situations confronting us, how often can we go about our business and keep clear mind? This is bigger than just "mindfulness," as it seems to me that is much like meditation was in 1977. Real mindfulness isn't just a trick to reduce stress--although it can. It's not even necessarily about "being in the present moment"--although that's certainly part of it.

True mindfulness is being in the present moment, even those moments we don't like. Correct meditation, true mindfulness, is laying on a table with some laser beam from the 22nd Century pointed at you, arms up in some contorted position, and not feeling sorry for yourself, not taking cancer personally. For me, it was listening, being as supportive as I could, and at least to some extent, not freaking out if only to help her not feel like she needed to freak out.

It's easy to be "one with everything" when it's all rainbow/unicorn kittens with wings. When it's sitting in the umpteenth  meeting that day, trying to fill out a government form, listening to political talk shows and the like, not so easy. But Sengcan, Third Zen Patriarch Patriarch said in the Xinxin Ming, "The Great Way is easy for those who do not pick and choose." 

There's a lesson in that, if only about the amount of picking and choosing we do. And I guess until we all realize the Buddhas we're capable of being, we can see when we pick and choose, and even get to a point where even the uncomfortable is only uncomfortable, not the wrath of the gods raining down on us. It isn't easy to do 100% of the time, but by applying the practice, especially when you don't think, "Oh, I'm applying what I heard in the Dharma Hall," it gets closer to Sengcan's "easy". 

When driving, just drive. When wielding a scalpel, just wield a scalpel. When radiating, just radiate.

No, Really, It's OK

"May all beings be happy

May they be joyous and live in safety....

Standing or walking, sitting, or lying down

During all one's waking hours

Let one practice The Way with gratitude

"Not holding to fixed views

Endowed with insight

Freed from sense appetites

One who achieves The Way

Will be freed from the duality of birth and death"

From the "Metta Sutta" or "Lovingkindness Meditation" as found in the San Francisco Zen Center's Chant Book

 It is said that Siddhartha Gautama's encounter with sickness, old age, death, and a begging monk led to his leaving home, searching for The Way from other teachers, and not finding it from without, commenced to meditate with great determination under the Bodhi tree until he awakened, from within, with what had been there all along, merely covered over by layers of delusion. Self-indulgence didn't work, self-denial didn't work, but coming upon the denial of self worked.

It's Vesak season. I say season because the actual day celebrating the birth of the Buddha (and the Awakening and Paranirvana as well) happens in the 8th day of the 4th lunar month, and that seems to fall anywhere from April 8 to June 1 this year. I practice in an American Zen order in a Korean lineage, so I'm going with China and Korea celebrating May 25.

The reason I bring up Vesak, the Metta Sutta, and the pursuit of The Great Way is because were it not for the Buddha having been born physically, and basically doing the heavy lifting for the rest of us, I'd probably be a mess right about now. In a nutshell, my partner has been diagnosed with breast cancer. And the unexpected thing is that we're both OK with it. Maybe OK isn't the most accurate way to describe it, but we are OK with it in the sense that neither of us is in panic mode, there's been no wailing and gnashing of teeth, rending of garments, or any other biblical-referenced behaviors pertaining to what people do when they freak out. 

On a personality/idiosyncratic level, I'm typically pretty neutral. I don't really go that overboard when something "good" happens, or, well, do all that biblical stuff when "bad" happens. People have told me that I should be grateful for any number of things, and it's not that I'm un-grateful, I'm just sorta... well, neutral. I've been that way for a while too. Maybe cynicism and suspicion were used as a coping technique in the past. Somehow now, there doesn't seem to be that "waiting for the other shoe to drop" attitude that had permeated my standard operating procedure.

I have to say, that it really seems like the years of practice have had an impact. This isn't how I handled things like cancer a few years ago. To some extent, it feels like I really haven't wrapped my head around it, and maybe that's OK too. I really don't try to be a mind reader or fortune teller so much. Right here, right now, she's sleeping, I'm typing, and that's OK. 

In this Vesak season however, I'm actually grateful. I'm grateful that Gautama was born, I'm grateful he spent time as an ascetic, I'm grateful he found out that didn't work any better than being a rich kid, that he remembered that feeling from under the rose petal tree, I'm glad he sat under the Bodhi Tree, and I think I'm most grateful that he got up from under that tree, turning the wheel of Dharma, and sharing it. 

I'm grateful to Mahakasyapa, to Asvagosa and Nagarjuna. I'm grateful to Bodhidharma and Huangbo. I'm grateful to Seung Sahn and Wonji and Doshim. I'm grateful for the sanghas of my past and present, for giving me the opportunity to take refuge, to support me in my practice, and perhaps the opportunity to be of some help to them in their practice. 

I've found that practice is what happens when I take the meditation cushion with me into the world of birth, old age, sickness and death. And so far, that's OK.

Deep bows to the Buddha, to his teachings, and all sentient beings throughout the world. Thanks for being around for me to take refuge in, and helping me see that it is OK to feel happy and sad, and all the other transient emotions. 

"May all beings be happy." No, really, it's OK.