Changes!

A lot has changed since my last post and a few more lie ahead as I'm transitioning from a major phase of my life. In chronological order, I've left the food service industry for auto sales which is about was about as a big a surprise to myself as to every one else in my life. The new hours have cut me free from my aikido practice which I miss dearly. I've also been unable to participate in the weekly activities of my sangha since I work 9 to 9 every Saturday.

So pretty much the three biggest things that have defined who I am as a person no longer do. More recently my longtime girlfriend and I are in the process of separating so there's another thing down in the list of who I am.

The circumstances of this last event have left me with the opportunity to ride out what's left of the lease on our house by practicing as a resident at the Zen Center which will begin later this week. I'm looking forward to this opportunity a great deal as things have lined up just right for it to happen.

Since the only real obligations I'll have will be practice and work and I won't have a television, I'm intending to get back into keeping this up and using it as a tool to examine the practice I'll be fully engaged in. I'll be pushing my practice further than I've been able to before since, aside from going to work for twelve hours a day, I'll be essentially in zen boot camp practicing with and living in a community setting.

So starting with what I have once again, I'll see what happens.

Farmer Zen

(This has been a harder habit to resume than I thought it would be)

So a few months ago, we moved into a house which has a lovely but needy yard. There's a nice plot that was bare of grass I decided would make for a nice vegetable garden. 

Never having had one myself, I used the garden we have at the Zen Center as an example and thereby joined in the humble tradition of the Soto school as a Zen farmer.*

For those of you that don't get the reference, in Japan, the Rinzai school was embraced by the samurai, leaving the Soto tradition to farmers and peasents who had time to patiently sit and wait for enlightenment to come. The samurai on the other hand needed to cut through the matter of life and death "now" since they may face their last opponent in battle at any time.

While I spent quite a lot of time enjoying the outdoors growing up, it's fair to say I did so as a city boy. The most farming I'd done was an herb garden that didn't turn out so well. This is a little larger scale.

I used an axe and a shovel to turn the dense Houston soil and ringed the rough plot with plastic border. It was a lot of work but each moment I did my best to stay with what I was doing and treating it as practice.

By now nearly all the seeds have sprouted and their little leaves are poking through.  It won't be too long before I'll have to thin them out.

For me, this idea of nuturing our practice like growing plants really stikes a chord. My first emotional experience concerning impermanence had to do with a flower. I've also seen the similarities between the momentary effort and patience needed in both practice and planting. My dharma name  (Heavenly Born, Magnificent Bloom) even references the growth and blossoming of my practice.

When we plant a seed, we begin the process, but that's all we're doing. We nuture it by watering and providing sunshine and wait. We can't pull the little sprout out to make it grow faster, we have to wait. The character my teacher has translated as "born" is the same used for "exit" or "protrude" as a sprout comes from the ground. Depending on who you ask, it even originates as a sprout coming forth ( 出).

So we have the sprout which grows and strengthens into a hearty plant over time. Eventually its roots become established and its branches grow strong. When the time is right, a bud forms, and once again we have to wait; there's no forcing a flower to bloom.

Some may see the beautiful opening of the flower as the culmination of practice, for some it may be. But does beauty actually accomplish anything lasting? For nourishment we need fruit so we wait again, and then again for the fruit to ripen.

The fruit bears seeds for the next generation and the dharma continues.

So the seed is hope, looking at it it's hard to discern what it will grow to be. Maintaining the growing plant patiently we only see change over time. The flower rekindles our hope and shows us the precious beauty of our efforts. But the flower's beauty is fleeting and only the fruit of our labor and patience will nourish us and those to come.
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*I've also been revisiting the samurai aspect of my spiritual practice, which rather than confusing and complicated things has actually clarified quite a bit for me right now.

When You Hit Bottom, You Bounce

So I'm still struggling to find a job since my last one was so rudely taken from me.  It's not so much that I'm out there everyday getting rejected.  I've actually only made it to one place and they wanted to hire me but didn't have a position available.  The struggle is with myself, and until this morning (more like afternoon) when I was finally pulling myself together for the day, I realized what my big issue was.

I knew I'd been making excuses like I usually do.  I want to say that I've brought this up before but in scanning through my posts, nothing rings a bell.  The first big insight my practice brought me was how easy it is for me to fall for my own excuses, that I just accept them sometimes without even realizing I'm making them up.  I see them as reality and that that's just the way it is.

The problem is, until I find the root of these excuses, it doesn't really do me much good.  Sure I know that I shouldn't be falling for them, but I still do.

What I realized today is that I'm still upset over the loss of my job, even more so than I'd realized.  On a deeper level, the owners of that restaurant kicked me out of my home; not the one where I went to every night and slept, but the one where I spent my days.  My coworkers were in a sense a new family and I'd been cut off from them.  On the surface I'd just seen it as a job and another one would come along to take it's place.  I hadn't dealt with this aspect that lurked so far below.

So I was still angry and holding on to something I know intellectually was passing and impermanent.  It wasn't until today that that understanding went a bit deeper into realizing the impermanence.

What's causing me trouble now is that deep down, I'm scared of that happening again.  I mean, I really hate looking for a job.  I've stayed at places that were really bad for me longer than I should have because it seemed better than looking for a new place.  But this fear comes from an investment in a possible future that I know may not come true.  So instead I hold on to the dream rather than march in to a place and apply.

So many of us do this in so many different situations.  We let our attachment to how we want things (or think they should be) to turn out cripple us from taking the chance.  Looking for jobs, pursuing a romance, making a purchase or any other choice for that matter.

Is there some magic spell we can use to make this anxiety go away, some short cut around the suffering?  No, we just have to accept that this is what life is.  Our practice may help in that if we settle our minds enough, that iron grip on the dream may soften, but just because you have a light grip doesn't make that desire any less sticky.

A little after Christmas I was in a funk, didn't feel myself, slept too late, wasn't motivated to do anything.  It took me a while to realize that I was a little depressed.  It'd been a long time since I'd been to that place so it wasn't easily recognizable.  Once I'd identified it, it lost a lot of it's power, I'd slapped some boundaries on it and defined its previously ambiguous powers.

For a long time I'd been doing really well, riding the wheel to the top.  But once I hit bottom back then, I was able to recognize that it was a wheel and that I wouldn't be there forever.  It had been a nice ride up and the top felt great, but then I was at the bottom and knowing I'd be going back up eventually was kind of what turned it around.

So today I realized the same thing and it had the same effect.  I'm really bummed about not having a job and it should be enough motivation to go out and get one, but something has been in the way.  Now that I've identified it, given it some definition, I know its power's not infinite.  I'm still moving forward and looking up, not down.

It was a long fall down, and I know it's cliche, but before you can bounce back up, you have to hit the bottom.

I Survived Ango and All You Get Is This Crummy Post

45 calender days is a really long time. We had Fridays off, but most days started at 5:15 am with an officer's meeting and didn't end until 9 pm with chanting the Three Refuges. Half day sits changed the schedule for Saturday and the last five days finished it all off with a sesshin, but every other day was spent in zazen, kinhin, soji, oryoki, services, dharma talks, study, and class. Just about a tenth of the year, and it was interesting.

A lot happened over those six weeks that didn't really sink in until it was almost over and I didn't get a chance to write about hardly any of it.

I received the precepts the second weekend, which was a huge event on its own but it was quickly lost in the blur of the following weeks. We had two priests ordained by my teacher come visit for a while back to back, the second of whose ordination I attended late last year. I sat down with him for an hour and we chatted around the theme of ceremony which I'll get to writing about later. We also hosted Brad Warner for a Dharma Punx organized retreat which was fun to attend and cook for. I also got to go out for breakfast with him with two other people one day, so that was cool. Rereading Hardcore Zen after so long was interesting. It's a chicken-or-egg type deal but the book really matches my current attitudes and I read it at an influential time in developing my practice. I had thought all these views were my own but now I'm not so sure. It doesn't matter, they are mine and I don't have them because someone said that I should.

We had two other guests that same weekend so the buildup was something else. The second is the founder of the Dallas Meditation Center and practices in Thich Nhat Hanh's Order of Interbeing. His style was quite different but I intend to get to know him better since his center is down the street from where my parents live in Dallas. (He was out of town when I was there for Father's Day)

As tenzo, my first practice period (and only third sesshin) had its own special challenges. Three meals were served nearly every day; oryoki breakfast and lunch with an informal dinner. During the week we ranged 6 to 10 participants with around 20 for Saturday breakfast.

I started out really organized, planning a week's worth of meals at a time with my own spreadsheet displaying which day, meal, and bowl's food, condiments, number of diners, and who would be preparing/helping prepare the meal. I made two shopping trips a week, one on our off day, Friday. Two dinners a week I was able to let someone else plan and prepare to give me a break.

All this time, I'd been re-reading sections of the Tenzo Kyokun for inspiration and insight and came across something funny. One part I'd always read without too much care is the section where Dogen outlines the day's activities for the tenzo. With my professional training and guidance from within the sangha it never really matched up with Dogen's instruction. As I settled into how I thought things should be done, I realized I was actually doing it the way Dogen suggests. Setting up and soaking the rice for breakfast at night, preparing lunch while breakfast cooks... it was nice.

Before my term in charge, meals were prepared a day in advance and the recipes were overly complicated. With my menu and experience I didn't have to do this. It made storage much easier and I had a greater degree of flexibility if something unexpected came up. Because of this the third week was almost entirely improvised off leftovers.

There were a couple points where the whole thing was getting old and I was ready for it all to be over with, but that's all part of practice. It's not all that different from sitting; once you're in it you have to see it though.

One thing that I really enjoyed about the practice period was it's intermediate nature between daily life and sesshin. Daily life (for me, especially while unemployed) is very dynamic with almost no structure. Sesshin is completely regimented with nearly every moment planned out. During Ango, each piece of the day was optional and we could come and go as our outside life needed. This allowed a daily blending of “lay” and “monastic” life whereas the two extremes usually exist pretty independently. Sesshin is also really short so as soon as you're really settled it's over. But as I said 6 weeks is a long time.

All of this makes for a powerful reminder that practice is all the time. The practice period really helps establish practice as a daily habit and six weeks provides a good amount of momentum.

I really enjoyed participating and intend to go into some more detail about some aspects of it soon.

True Compassion

My aunt has a big rock (it's a novelty rock, probably not even rock but it's big, gray, hard and cold...) that has two sides.  On the top it says "Please turn me over," and on the other "Thank you."

Now it used to bug me that people would keep turning it back over having "gotten the joke" since it obviously preferred to be on the "thank you" side.  But recently I've been thinking about it, wondering if it's not that it prefers a side, but that it enjoys being turned over.

Yes, it's a damn rock.  I know it doesn't have feelings, just what we project on to it.  But I have long felt a sort of animistic connection to many objects for a long time and these are things that I think about.  Animals have preferences that they express in different ways.  Plants express preferences in how they thrive.  Just because all life doesn't experience the world through the same sense gates as we do, doesn't mean that their experience is any less vibrant or real.  As all things are transient and interconnected, who is to say that a rock or any other form of inert existence isn't alive?  It was created, exists in this moment, and will pass into another form eventually.  Where do we draw the line of what life is?

Part of this viewpoint stems from an interesting source.  There's an anime I like a great deal for many reasons called Trigun.  There's an episode where a child version of the hero is having a conversation with the influence of his life and she tells him about how trees are just as active and full of life as we are, using all of their life's force and effort just to grow tall and be green, to reproduce and fulfill their function.

This perspective stuck hard and fast with me.  It also has a great deal on how I view life as a food source, but I promise I'll get around to that post eventually.

My point is, in our limited view, we think we know what's right for others and ourselves.  We think that the commonly held viewpoint of compassion as "a feeling of distress and pity for the suffering or misfortune of another, often including the desire to alleviate it" (dictionary.com) is alleviated through being nice and forgiving and all those other positive things associated with compassion.

The truth of the matter is, sometimes we're wrong.  And we can be very wrong.  Sheltering and pampering can cause someone to become weak and unable to fend for themselves in the real world.  Just as a pet animal can never be released into the wild, the pampered will require that for survival.  Even if they don't they'll have to suffer a great deal in order to regain their instincts.

The world is full of frustrated little dogs treated like children instead of like dogs and a handful of people are making a living reminding their owners of that fact.

This doesn't mean we should kick people to the curb and shut down homeless shelters or food pantries.  This is not a call for an end to altruism, just a call to attempt to understand that what we think someone needs is not necessarily what they need.

I think we all need a certain amount of suffering to get us moving.  If we were perfectly comfortable during zazen it would be harder to stay in the moment.  Without suffering we wouldn't have the need to practice.  Isn't that the whole reason living in the realm of the devas isn't all it's cracked up to be?

Suffering, whether physical, emotional, or intellectual, is the fuel of our practice.  It is the reason we seek to make ourselves better.  Sometimes being compassionate is allowing an individual to suffer just the right amount.  I'm sure I'll revisit this and refine my view, but I doubt it will wander far.


Let us be grateful to experience suffering so that we may seek to go beyond.

 

Silence Does Not Apply to Almonds

So Week 2 of Ango is underway and I'm really starting to get the feel for this tenzo thing.  I've made notes of some changes to menu items that need to be made and others items (especially some of my originals) have been wildly successful.

Monday, I inadvertently started the week off for everyone with a laugh during breakfast service.  I'd prepared quinoa, cottage cheese, and some frozen applesauce (care of Dale Kent, there's still more and it was tasty).  I figured we could use a little more texture so I toasted some almonds as well.

Now I've toasted almonds, cashews, and walnuts before but don't remember anything like this happening when I did.

So we're all sitting there at the table at 7:30 after two hours of meditation and a service.  My teacher, the ino, work leader, ino's assistant, jisha, visiting priest, a couple others and myself being all intense and focused for oryoki when we notice that the bowl of almonds are popping like rice crispies as they were cooling.  We each top our cottage cheese with a scoop and the bowl makes its way down the table.

Inside, I found this condiment's noisy irreverence, with all of us being so solemn, really funny and was trying not to smile about too much since my teacher was sitting to my right.  I thought I had it under control when the ino's assistant sitting right next to me on the left starts up with the giggles.  It was just too much and I had to snicker along with a few others.  I couldn't see my teacher's face but I'm sure she enjoyed it too.  They kept popping throughout the meal.

(I wish I could have been there for lunch when they ate the "So wonderfully mild gazpacho," as my teacher called it after dinner that night.  Two serrano chilies was one too many, it just got spicier as it sat in the fridge for three hours after I made it.  I said that I was glad "hot" was one of the Six Tastes and Three Virtues.)

What a way to start a Monday.

(I'm so lame...)

I'll have to write about my super exciting weekend receiving the precepts another time.  Plus I've gotta prepare for cooking a half day retreat for a bunch of Dharma Punx hosting Brad Warner.  It'll be cool to finally me him. Dunno how long he'll be in town though.

Two Months of Fun (?/!)

Ango started today and I'm not too sure what to expect out of this summer practice period so I'm trying not to expect anything.  It marks my first official assignment as tenzo (as far as I'm concerned, all the other stuff was a warm up).  I have full control over the kitchen as well as all planning and purchasing.

Since I can't take two months off (my supercool and exciting) job, I'll only be able to prepare breakfasts and a couple dinners during the week.  I've planned out all of the meals with the exception of two dinners a week and will coordinate purchasing and prep for all of them.

My activities this week will be limited in the evenings by Aikido since I have a test Thursday, and this weekend because my dad will be coming into town for the weekend for a visit and to attend my jukai ceremony (which I'll write about later).


It's an odd feeling with so much to do and no real choice about doing it.  It has to get done and I'm best qualified to do it.  I feel some resistance at times, it comes and goes.  The meals don't have to be fancy, people just need to get fed.  It's definitely far easier to do what I need to do when I'm in charge.  I've always been more comfortable as a second in command, just making sure nothing slips through the cracks, but it's good to be calling the shots and being successful.

By the time the sesshin rolls around the last week of June, everything should be running super smooth and should be a very different experience than the last two sesshin I worked. The previous retreats have had a huge buildup right before the start as we go from normal life to retreat life with meal planning and coordinating to do, but all of that anticipation will have been burned off by then, it already feels like a relief just to have it started.  All the meals for the whole practice period are oryoki, so by the final week I will have run through most of my recipes a couple times leaving no questions about prep, leaving me more mental space to just relax and enjoy it.

Every meal I prepare for the sangha feels like a session of zazen and after so many it feels so much more comfortable to slip into tomai sanmai (rice-washing samadhi)*.   It should be interesting to see what happens after  I've prepared the next 80 something meals in the Zen kitchen.

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*a new term I discovered that my girlfriend refers to as "cooking face."  Apparently I do a mean Bodhidharma impression while I'm cooking and have for years.  Virtual high-five to anyone who can find the kanji for "toumai sanmai"

Shaving Ice, One Hopper At a Time

My new job entails a lot of prep work, which I enjoy a great deal.  When you're a server there's side work to do that can be similar, but the biggest difference is that it's done on the side, as in while you're still waiting tables. 

In the kitchen, your attention is almost entirely on just what's in front of you.  In the dining room it's a little different. Waiting tables requires a lot more multitasking so the monotonous aspects of the side work require you to always keep your mind on your tables while you're doing it, forcing you to split your attention.  How un-Zen is that?

Now don't get me wrong, the way I did side work, at least in attitude, was altered by my practice, but it was still difficult to throw myself into cutting lemon wedges if I had to keep track of whether or not table 24's entree is up and if it was timed right that they're just finishing their appetizer so that I can use the same tray to bus those plates that I'm bringing the new food on.

In the kitchen there's a list.  It's always waiting, but nothing demands your attention more than the one item on that list you're doing now.  Everything else will be there for you when you're ready for it.  There's still a sense of urgency since you are getting paid by the hour and it's all got to be done before you can leave, but it's still just patiently awaiting its turn.

This is something I'd missed, fondly remembering assembling the collapsed boxes for chicken strips while watching the South Texas Sunset out a window at another job I held long ago.

I find myself peeling and deveining a lot of shrimp.  Today they were cooked first so I had to peel off their dorsal side and remove all the guts inside.  I noticed that as soon as I let my mind wander, what was supposed to go in the trash was going in with the shrimp, oops.  A split second was all that it took for me to make a mistake.

The restaurant I work at now serves oysters on the half shell, a lot of them.  So in anticipation for tonight's business I was asked to shave ice for their plating.  There's a sno-cone machine in the wonderfully brisk 32 degree walk in cooler where I stood for the better part of an hour cramming about a half gallon of ice at a time into the hopper and pushing down the frozen plunger.

I knew about how much I was going to need, but the cold was getting to me and my thinking mind kept going for ways of making the process go faster.  There was nothing I could do though as the hopper was only so big and it had to be loaded by hand each time.

Dishwasher and prep cook are usually the two entry level positions in a kitchen for a good reason.  The results of the work is usually taken for granted and almost always boring.  The skill level is relatively low and so is the pay.

But as I was grinding away, I wasn't reminded of the tenzo dutifully drying mushrooms in the hot sun because someone had to.  I was reminded instead of Huineng pounding away at rice for years until he realized the Truth.  I embraced it as an opportunity for enlightenment, not as just something that needed to get done.

After the first few minutes my arm and shoulder were getting tired from trying to push the plunger down from above my shoulders, so I relaxed and let my Aikido earn its keep by connecting with it and dropping my weight, letting the heaviness of my body do the work instead of my shoulder and upper arm.  This of course is connected with the breath and as I exhaled with each stroke, I saw each load as a breath and a moment in my life to be present in and enjoy.  So I did.

Every now and then that impatience popped up, prompted by the numbing cold in my fingers and diminishing amount left to do.  But I took a breath and enjoyed it, not only for the sake of enlightenment, but just because I could.

What Is It About Ignorance in Others That Bugs Us?

Listening to someone speak of their troubles relating to a coworker the other night, specifically with the coworker's intractable ignorant bigotry, got me wondering what it is that prevents us from just accepting these "flaws" in others.

First of all we have to realize that there is a reason they feel the way they do and why it's different than how we feel.  The events of their lives have resulted in circumstances that have led them to believe what they do.  From their perspective we're the ones with flawed views.  Accepting this, is it really fair to say they're "wrong"?  All that we try to cultivate in ourselves as Buddhists says no.  After all, we're full of ignorance ourselves.

I think it's that we see another's opinion and we see difference, a difference that we don't like.  We see it as separate from ourselves and it's just the fact that something is apart from ourselves that we find fundamentally upsetting; the content of that difference doesn't matter.  When our efforts to make our opinions theirs fails, we get frustrated.

But it's just one person, what's the big deal?  Surely other people see how ignorant their views are, right?  Well, those views came from somewhere and usually it's from another person.  It's this contagious nature of hurtful ideas that lies at the root of our need to correct the problem and we try so urgently to correct the problem at its source.  We don't want that which is different to spread, further isolating ourselves from the universe around us.

What we have to remember is that people who hold strong opinions hold them strongly, they're not open to new ideas.  We end up hitting an immovable object with our preaching/educating, furthering the antagonistic nature of the relationship.

It's not that they're a lost cause, but it's in those around both of you that you stand the greatest chance of making an impact.  But preaching is often met with resistance, even if those that hear are likely to agree with the ideals being spoken of.  Words are not only easy to ignore, they're also easy to fake and there are plenty of examples of people preaching but not practicing.

So forget the preaching, we can only change ourselves and be a good example.  The message of Buddhism is not to spread Buddhism, but to realize our own true potential.

By doing our best to do this, by being accepting of others, taking responsibility for our own actions, and living in the moment, others may see us as positive role models.

What this all really boils down to is accepting the choices of others, knowing that we can only control ourselves.  We can't force anyone to change their minds, but by being good people they may take our examples.  Without uttering a singe word to try to convince them, we lead by example.  In this way we are able to fulfill our vow to save all beings.

This doesn't only apply to Buddhists, but to not only anyone practicing any faith based on love, but also those who hold no faith at all. 

When you try to force something on someone, or even just convince them of something, you give them something to resist.  Keep this in mind.

Are You Ready for the Truth?

One of the first things we were taught in the Intro to Zen Meditation class at the Zen Center was the two types of Zen meditation.  I've found "types" to not be a very accurate word to use, when we're letting whatever happens happen, the two can arise on their own, sometimes at the same time. I guess "effects" may be more appropriate, but I don't make the rules...

But anyway, these two types are insight and calming/relaxing.  The first involves the dissolution of delusions, allowing us to see reality for what it really is.  This may be about the interconnectedness of everything, the reality of the causes of suffering, or the impermanence of everything; which together are referred to as the Three Marks of Existence in Buddhism.

However, without a calm, relaxed mind we won't be to experience this insight.  Calmness and relaxation also allow us to remain upright physically, mentally and spiritually.

So these ideas hung around me for the better part of a year, occasionally surfacing with some meaning but usually not much impact.

A few months ago, I participated in a retreat and one of the themes that arose during the dharma talk was this twofold aspect of zazen and things clicked a little more for me.

If we don't relax, we may still experience the insight, but it can frighten or upset us.  The Truth can be cold and uncaring if we're not ready to see it even if it is for our own good.  I think that this potential is greatest observed in those who pursue spiritual awakening with psychotropic experimentation or any sort of short cut "enlightenment now" methods.  The same things are experienced but without the spiritual discipline provided by long training the event can be damaging.  The Truth can be heavy; you don't just walk into a gym and try to bench press the heaviest weight in the room with no training.  The Truth can crush you in the same way.

So in my head, this all made sense.  Even in experience some light was shone.  But only recently have I been able to observe how I've experienced how all of this ties together.

Our delusions are like toys, as Uchiyama Roshi put it.  They distract us from reality.  Practicing zazen allows us to loosen our grip on those toys so that when we see them for what they really are, we'll be comfortable letting go.  We invest a lot in our delusions, sometimes thinking them as the only things we really have.  Like babies, we hold on to them with all of our might.  Sometimes Life comes along and wrenches them out of our hands and we panic and cry out in fear.

Sometimes though, babies let go of their toys and they fall aside on their own either because something new comes along or they relax.  In the same way we deal with our delusions.  The best of the two options being when we relax and realize we don't need that particular delusion any more.  For me these usually happen in "ah-ha" moments.  Something clicks inside me and I realize the truth behind my thought.  Realizing the truth that a particular koan points to is a good example.  Everything just falls into place and makes sense.

Other times my reaction is more emotional than a eureka moment.  The realization can cause my heart to break a little and I tear up.  These experiences are on the border of readiness between overdue and completely comfortable, and being unprepared for such deep insight.

Staring into the dark, the light may shine on small truths we've already felt with our hands; knowing their identities before the light goes on.  Other times it shines on things that have brushed against our leg.  Our other senses have given us ideas about its identity, but still unsure, the sudden light frightens us.  The truly frightening is when all the lights go on to reveal to us things unimagined and thus thoroughly not understood staring us in the face with all its glory.

So with zazen, we feel around in the dark and our experiences are flashes of light illuminating the truth.  Sometimes we see and understand, sometimes we don't.  Other times it catches us off guard, but no matter what, if we're serious about finding the real Truth we must relax our grip and let go of our fantasies and delusions about what joys and horrors are out there so that we will acknowledge it when it shows itself.  It's always there just waiting for us to enter the endless Dharma gates.

Interview With a Zen Master, Part 2

Here is the second half of my interview with Venerable Master Miao Tsan.  I asked him some more specific questions about Zen but there are foot notes at the end.  I touched on some of the subjects briefly, some of them I've mentioned here before, but there is a wealth of information about them on the internet as well.

Before I get into the rest of the interview, I'd like to thank some of the people who helped make this happen.  The people at Bright Sky Press and their promoters: Lucy, Susan and Monica. The Golovines for hosting the Master and logistics for more than just my interview.  Richard whose presence during the interview was comforting and Kate for the heads up to us on the initial event.

But anyway, the rest of the interview:

I have been a scholar of Buddhism, mostly Zen, for nearly ten years.  Only in the last year have I begun sitting zazen and it has opened up more about me to my self than the previous ten.  What advice and reasoning do you have to give to those who study without practice to begin meditation or mind training? What benefits to have to offer for those that begin a spiritual practice?

I think at first we can deal with our negative habits.  In this world people think that this is negative habits, first people need to give that up. Then second we can try some meditation. Third if you can be able to be aware of your own thoughts, gradually you have control of your own thought and every single thought it is created by our selves.  If we don’t even know that we are creating the thought, it means unconsciously there are no thoughts leading us to nowhere. If you can be aware of your thought this is very important.  How can you make this happen? Meditation first and then quit the negative habits. Sometimes you can read some books. Probably, for my own idea, I am a Zen practitioner, so I can read some articles from the Zen Patriarchs. They guide you how to realize your own mind. They guide you to know how a practitioner can really practice in daily life. Quit negative habits and then be aware of your own thoughts, meditate and read some articles related to your practice.

I’ve often found that the meditation has allowed me to step back from the cycle of thoughts and so you don’t get caught up in the thoughts.  It’s a very useful tool in realizing your own habits and that you may not be able to change the habits immediately but as soon as you recognize them it becomes easier.

Yes, the moment when you can be aware of your own thought, you start to change that. You are not following the thought.  In everyday life whenever a thought pops up in our minds, most of the time we follow it. So when we are meditating, we focus on the method.  When the thought pop up we call it wandering thought because we don’t want that to happen. So we just ignore them.  Gradually they lose their power. So the more we generate the same thought, the more powerful the thought becomes.  So it is ourselves who gives the wandering thought power.  It’s become our habit.  So the moment we can be aware of the thought, the thought loses its own power a little bit.  So gradually our mind becomes more calm.

One of the first experiences I had with that was the pain in the legs when you sit...

*Laughs* Yes

... and acknowledging it as pain and that it’s not going anywhere until you go somewhere but that you’re not going to go somewhere yet.  That you just acknowledge it for what it is and then it has no strength.  After that realization a lot of other things in my life have become habits that have disappeared because I stopped giving them power over me.

Yes, yes, that’s right.

Monday night, you emphasized that the world that we live in is a product of our minds; that our minds control our experience of the world.  Many people are so conditioned to believe that the world exists in spite of them, that they have trouble seeing this.  You also emphasized that the mind has no form, which is a reference to the Heart Sutra¹, a very Zen teaching that denies the fundamental independent nature of existence.  It is a paradox that emphasizes the non-duality of the universe that can't be truly understood intellectually.  I'm curious to know your personal experiences with the Heart Sutra and what it has taught you.  It seems to be an important touch stone for many Zen practitioners, would you mind sharing a little?

Heart sutra is more like the heart is 100 percent of what I call the mind.  That’s a translation idea.  You can call the Heart Sutra the “Mind Sutra.” They’re the same.  So actually the heart is 100 percent equal to the idea of the mind.  The Heart Sutra focuses on realizing the mind. Mind has no form.  Whenever existence is there, there is the mind. So existence and essence never can be separated.  Just like when you hear this sound: *clap*  The ability with which you can hear the sound can never separate it from this sound: *clap*.  But how can you show me the ability?  *clap* you can hear. This sound you can hear. You realize the knowing is there, the knowing comes from within.  It’s not coming from the ear or the brain; it’s coming from the ability of the mind.² So if we can realize this, our mind has no form.   

Whenever the phenomena is there, the creation of the phenomena includes your thought, your physical body and the whole environment.  The whole relationship, they are one, they cannot be separated. If you can realize this then you realize where the mind is.  Thought is creation, it’s one little portion of our mind.  People can learn to realize this concept. So skillful means is to say “if you change your thought, you change your direction, you change your life” It’s skillful means to say this.  It’s because when your mind has different function, different way, or different direction, if you have your mind functioning in a different way you have a different thought, a different manifestation.  So whenever your thought is different, phenomena is different.  Thought itself is part of the phenomena; physical body is part of phenomena which is manifested by mind. So actually mind has no form, if you realize this you achieve enlightenment.  You can say “one is all”, non-duality, because your thought, physical body and environment are one, they are inseparable.  So I think the main part of the Heart Sutra is to tell us this.

The first [word of the Heart Sutra]: “Avalokiteshvara: [the Bodhisattva of Compassion], the Bodhisattva’s name already tells you everything.  If you realize the Bodhisattva’s name you realize the Heart Sutra because the Bodhisattva’s name is just like if I realize that my own existence in every single present moment is inseparable from everything.³  My mind manifests the oneness all the time, all the time it is inseparable.  Your thought, physical body, environment; they are together.  If you realize this, you are the Bodhisattva and you already are liberated from all the suffering.

I knew of three of the Four Great Bodhisattvas⁴: Avalokiteshvara or Kwan Yin, Ksitigarbha or Jizo, and Manjushri, but Samantabhadra [Bodhisattva of Great Action, representing the embodiment of Buddhist philosophy through the action of practice] was the one that I didn’t know.  Once I knew the purpose of Samantabhadra, what it represents of the Four Vows of the Bodhisattva⁵...  it was no longer something abstract. That to become the Buddha’s Way is to become the Buddha. In sitting in meditation, that’s what happens, you become no different than the Buddha.  That as soon as you realize this you are no longer separate.

To become a Buddha, I tell students this, self awareness makes you a Buddha not the meditation or ritual practice. Self awareness makes you a Buddha.  When someone can manifest the functions, the pure functions without distortion, without attachment, when someone’s mind can manifest the mind itself, its functions and abilities, the person becomes a Buddha.  We can divide the functions into four portions.  One we call compassion (Kwan Yin), one we call wisdom (Manjushri), one we call the vow of patience and learning (Jizo) and one we call the Magnificent Manifestation ability (Samantabhadra). Once the person can manifest his own purity in mind, the person becomes a Buddha, 100%.  So we are not pursuing to become a Buddha, the way to become a Buddha is the way to purify our minds; to get rid of all the pollutions of mind.

..Because the desire to become a Buddha gets in the way

It’s an outgoing thing, it’s not right.

The first of your two final comments Monday night was that you wanted people to remember that you wear black and that you are a monk.  To me this highlighted the nature of the answers you gave to the questions asked.

Yes *laughs again*

They fit the form that my mind has taken from my study of Zen so I understood them well. I have the tools to understand what you’re talking about.   I have a context in which to place them and am used to listening to the way monks speak.  I've learned to look to where the finger points rather than at the finger itself and I think that a lot of people there were stuck looking at the finger.

Yes, yes...

So I realized this and it caused me to want to try and see it from the beginning again. I found myself trying giving up that form, to listen with a "beginner's mind," as Suzuki Roshi puts it, to try and stop having preconceived notions,  to try and identify with the way others around me understood your words.

One of the metaphors that I like is that teachers can only point at the truth; we have to find it ourselves.  I came up with the metaphor of two people bird watching.  The teacher has spotted the bird and points while the student desperately tries to follow the teacher's guide to see it as well.  The difference of their perspective makes it difficult for the student to see it for themselves, even if they are looking right at it. Sometimes they don’t recognize it because they think that it’s supposed to look like something else.  A lot of that has to do with perspective.  With the difference of your perspective as a Chinese monastic, how do you think that affects your ability to teach those with such a different perspective, that of an everyday American?

First we need to realize the truth.  We can think, we have actions, then we have a result.  It doesn’t matter if the ability is coming from God, your Buddha nature or your mind it doesn’t matter. We’ll put this concept aside. You can think, this is the truth.  You have a physical body, this is truth.  You live in society, this is truth.  How can you make yourself become better a person?  How can you really live with happiness?  This is the real issue. So I think everyone should think about this, how can you make this happen?  It doesn’t matter if God gives you the ability or if intrinsically you have it. You already have it and this is the truth.  How can you use this ability to make your life better?  This is the issue.  In order to uplift life, in order to use the ability to make your life better, you should be able aware of your own ability.  What is the ability and how is the ability working for you?  We should realize this.  This is every single person’s job, not just a practitioner’s.  If you want to make your life better you should realize who you really are, what can you do? Where are you?  Go back into the original place, go back to the truth. Then you know where you can start or restart to find the happiness.  This is not only for a practitioner or monk.  A monk is a person who becomes a monk and tries to have the role to play to pursue his own happiness.  A monk is a human being. It’s not like people think, that monastic practice belongs to a monk or something.  No, every person has the ability to make their lives better.  How can you use that to make your life better?  I think this is the real issue; it has nothing to do with the monastic or mundane.

The title I chose for my blog is starting with what you have and your book is called Just Use This Mind.  You also mentioned that we are all masters of ourselves.  This is a common theme in Zen:  that you don't need to have or do anything special to benefit from Buddhism.  Enlightenment is right in front of us, we just need to open our eyes.  So, obviously your book isn't telling people that they have to run off and join a monastery to live a Buddhist life.  My experience of Zen is almost exclusively that of American flavored Japanese Soto Zen and in that community the line between monasticism and lay practice is becoming blurred but it still exists.  What role do you see monasticism playing in the future of Zen in America?

I think first we should deliver the message widely, the right message, the right teaching widely.  Normally if you are monk, nun, or practitioner you can get the message in order to practice it right.  Nowadays, many practitioners come from a lot of different schools of Buddhism and schools of spirituality.  But I think it is really difficult to really understand the true meaning of mind or spirituality.  So first I think, deliver the right message in order for people to get it.  No matter if you are monastic or lay, if you practice it wrong, if you have the wrong understanding, it has nothing to do with if you are monk or lay person.  So the right message is much more important than monastic affairs or lay people’s daily life.  Right message, right understanding can lead people to liberation, freedom and happiness.  So first we should deliver this idea widely.  And second, it’s just as you sow, and water, if you plant a seed.  Whenever they come up, you just take care of it. It doesn’t matter if it is monastic or lay people. Just like if you are a farmer. You can’t focus on this is the seed I want.  No, you plant all the seeds, and whatever comes up you take care of them, you take care of all of them.

I guess the traditional model is that the monks practice and that’s all that they do. And that their practice is to benefit all people.  A lot of lay practitioners say that monks have it easy because they don’t have to deal with daily lives, family and all of that.  But if the monks didn’t exist they couldn’t teach.  Just as in a school a teacher may not practice in the world, but that they teach others to do so from their experience and learning.  So monks still need to exist because it’s not an overnight thing to learn; it does take a lot of time and dedication.

Yes, you have to give people an option, a different road to a place.  It’s just like spirituality is a journey, life is a journey.  In life you can change your job. In spirituality you can change your role to play, but the journey is there.  You want to become a monk to finish your journey, or want stay a lay person.  That is your option, just like you want to walk here or walk over there.  Do not take this too seriously; it’s a role to play to finish your journey.

I really enjoyed talking to you.

Thank you!

One of the things that my practice has really benefited me in is that I used to procrastinate a lot and make excuses to not do things.  I wasn’t very assertive.  I’ve surprised myself in getting here, to making this interview with you happen.  I’ve spent a lot of time trying to get my life together and this practice had really helped bring it all together, so I really appreciate all those who try to spread this.  Thank you very much.

1 – “The Heart Sutra” – or “Heart of Perfect Wisdom” is a comparatively short statement in the form of a lecture by Avalokiteshvara (Sanskrit. Kwan Yin, Chinese. Kannon, Japanese) the Bodhisattva of Compassion, to a disciple of the historical Buddha, Shariputra.  It’s topic is the emptiness of phenomena, but it basically denies, one by one, the main tenants of Buddhism holding only the practice of prajna paramita, or meditation as necessary for liberation from suffering.  Within the statement, form and emptiness are both equated and differentiated in an attempt to use dualistic language to present the non-dual and interconnected existence of the universe that can only be reached through practice, not intellectualization.

2 – this is in reference to the five skandhas, aggregates or heaps, that make up the mind. Through these five processes, we experience the world around us. In the Heart Sutra, Avalokiteshvara tells Shariputra that he saw the skandhas as empty while meditating.  I wrote about these here in the context of experiencing color as a colorblind person.  The Master is using our experience of sound here to illustrate this.

3 – My take on this is that when reading or reciting the Heart Sutra, our only focus should be on doing that.  We don’t need to get all the way through it before we experience its benefits, just presently experiencing the word “Avalokiteshvara” puts us in the mindset of the Buddha.  Doing this, there is no room to think about what’s for dinner or the person that cut you off in traffic.  I’ve come to understand this as the purpose for chanting as a Zen form. Content is a bonus, but intention and presence of mind is the practice.

4 - These are four anthropomorphizations of the attributes of compassion, wisdom, patience, and praxis or the applied practice of principles.  By definition a bodhisattva is an awakened being who stays in this world to help alleviate the suffering of others.

5 – These are:  “Beings are numberless, I vow to save them.  Delusions are inexhaustible, I vow to end them.  Dharma gates are boundless, I vow to enter them. Buddha’s way is unsurpassable, I vow to become it.”  These four vows urge us be compassionate, exercise wisdom, be patient and see every moment’s potential to show us the Truth, and to apply our knowledge in practice so that we may see the world as the Buddha did and free ourselves and others from suffering.  They are impossible to fulfill, but our constant effort to uphold them is what is important.

Size Matters Not

little things easier everyday
when will size
cease to matter?

I wrote this almost a year ago when I first started to reap the benefits of my practice.  I've always had issues with procrastination and avoiding certain situations.  Excuses came so easily that I accepted them before even realizing it was possible to reject them.

At this point I was finding little things around the house to be easier, but the big things were still giving me trouble.  Writing these simple pseudo-haiku were my first attempts at examining these thought patterns: the first step in making changes to them. You can't admit you have a problem until you realize the truth of the problem.

a simple difficult intention
i do what i can
or do i?

By this point, I'd begun to question the effort that I was putting towards pushing through difficult situations.

disappointment
aversion is today's vice
it must dissolve

Despite my awareness and effort, I still had setbacks.  I shied away from situations rather than push through them.

the nail on the head
fear of surrendering freedom
next step?

This was an incredible breakthrough.  Now I was aware of why I didn't want to do many of the things I really needed to do to progress in life.  In my last post I admitted to running away from things that ranged from uncomfortable down to inconvenient.  This was because to do them meant giving up freedom.  Once I was in the situation, I just went with it.  Getting into it was a different thing.  Now that I knew what the problem was, I had to figure out what to do about it.

Continued practice was the answer and it has made a difference.

So what makes me bring this up now?

Something wonderful actually.

Monday night, I had the pleasure of attending a discussion at Rice University due to my involvement with writing for Bayou Buddhists on HoustonBelief.com.  The panel consisted most notably of the Venerable Master Miao Tsan, abbot of the Vairocana Zen Monastary in California.  He is publicizing the English translation of his best selling book Just Use This Mind.

The discussion itself was a wonderful experience, but when I found out that initially the potential for an interview had been offered, I jumped on it.

I've never conducted an interview like this before so I really didn't have any idea what I was doing or what I was getting into.  Sure, I listen to interview programs on public radio all the time so I know what the end result is like, but to birth it myself would be an undertaking.

I plowed right through it.  I came up with sample questions which I ended up actually using. I played the email game to work my way to the people who could make the other end meet mine to make it happen.  I showed up and, although nervous for most of it, I got through it and even did a good job.

The whole time, from saying yes to the idea all the way through the end of the interview, all I could think was, "wow, I'm really making this happen."  So recently, I would have been making excuses to myself; talking my way out of it. 

There's still work to do.  I have to finish transcribing the recording, then format and edit it, so soon it will be posted here and at HoustonBelief.com.

But I really made this happen.

I've never considered myself assertive or any type of go-getter.  I'm typically passive and introverted, so this was a shock.  I don't really feel any different, but obviously I am.

While I haven't mastered myself, I am not in full control yet, size really has begun to cease to matter.

Learning from Pain... Again

Yeah, it's a theme. Well, life is suffering. It's kind of hard to miss as the first of the Four Noble Truths.

So what'd I learn and how... again?

I participated in a half day sitting organized by the Dharma Punx Houston who meet at the Houston Zen Center on Sunday afternoons. The Zen Center was gracious enough to rent out the facilities for the retreat.

I was excited to participate since the longest I'd done zazen was forty minutes followed by thirty. With the Rohatsu Sesshin coming up, I wanted a taste of what to expect. While the half day sitting can't compare to 5:30am to 9pm, it was still an experience. On top of all that, it's also where I relearned an important lesson.

The second Noble Truth is that suffering is caused by desire. This desire manifests in many ways. Mostly what it boils down to is the desire for things to be different. We want something we don't have, want to get rid of something that we do. We want to be somewhere else or for something to be over with.

For me, once again sitting on the cushion, I wanted the pain in my legs to go away. It's been a long time since my legs have hurt so much. For some reason all my time sitting didn't matter that night.

Interestingly enough, I was sitting in the same spot in the zendo as I had been when I experienced what led to this post.

I've come to accept that sometimes sitting is painful, just like life. We don't always have the option to run away so pushing through the discomfort is a form of developing discipline and acceptance.

When I had my wisdom teeth taken out, I was told that it would be the greatest pain that I'd ever feel in my life.  I was given steroids to control the swelling and told to take ibuprofin as an anti-inflammatory.  I didn't know that I could have asked for more than that, so I just put up with the pain.  On top of that, I had debris get in the empty sockets.  On my follow up visit, they flushed the holes out and were amazed that I'd been able to put up with the pain.  I didn't see it as macho, I just sucked it up and waited for it to stop hurting.

Other times haven't been so extreme, but this is something that I've dealt with at various times of my life.  Something I had no control over would happen and I'd have no choice but to put up with it.  The difference before was that whenever I saw an opening to escape I'd run like hell.  It didn't even have to be painful or uncomfortable.  If something were even just inconvenient, I'd avoid it.

The difference now is that I'm more able to face the discomfort with acceptance.  Do what I need to and get over it.

What I learned that night took things another step further.  It hurt really bad.  It was no longer about accepting the pain, it became self-torture.  The thought occurred to me, "why am I doing this to myself? I get the point, just move already."  There's a difference between discomfort and doing damage and I was pushing it.

So I moved.

And I didn't care.  I accepted that it's not always about acceptance, sometimes you have to change.

This is a very powerful concept: accepting non-acceptance.  Not just at face value, but in other concepts as well.  The moment is eternal, yet ever changing.  As soon as we realize the timeless nature of time, it resumes again.  Reality is only as real as we accept it to be, yet it's still real.

The more you try to grasp this nature, the less of a grasp you have on it.  Only in relaxing the mind to accept it, do you truly hold it.  It's like a paper cup: the tighter you squeeze it, the less it will hold. The cup must have its full size to hold the complete truth.

One of the steps of the Eightfold Path, the way to end desire and thus suffering, is Right Understanding.  It's never complete, but I'm working on it.

This experience showed me how far I've come, but also how much further I have to go.  And I'm pretty sure the view ahead will always be the same.

Saving All Beings

Who’s to say what’s impossible 

Well they forgot this world keeps spinning 

And with each new day

I can feel a change in everything 
 


And as the surface breaks reflections fade

But in some ways they remain the same

And as my mind begins to spread it’s wings 

There’s no stopping curiosity
 


I want to turn the whole thing upside down

I’ll find the things they say just can’t be found 

I’ll share this love I find with everyone 

We’ll sing and dance to mother nature’s songs

I don’t want this feeling to go away
 


Who’s to say I can’t do everything 

Well I can try, and as I roll along I begin to find 

Things aren’t always just what they seem 


I want to turn the whole thing upside down

I’ll find the things they say just can’t be found 

I’ll share this love I find with everyone 

We’ll sing and dance to mother nature’s songs
 

This world keeps spinning,

Well it all keeps spinning spinning 

Round and round and upside down
 

Who’s to say what’s impossible and can’t be found

I don’t want this feeling to go away
 


Please don’t go away

Please don’t go away

Please don’t go away
 


Is this how it’s supposed to be?

Is this how it’s supposed to be?

                                                    ""Upside Down" - Jack Johnson (click to hear)

This is one of my favorite songs ever.  These days it really describes how I feel about my practice.

I can't help how I feel.  Before it's been more about discovering things I knew nothing about.  Discovering things I never dreamed about that lie just around the corner.  It's what makes life livable for me, giving me purpose.  I can't help but try to pass it on to others in an attempt to spread my joy.

Recently this focus has shifted a little.  I've discovered some pretty crazy stuff that has changed my life, but hasn't really made it any different.  

"And as the surface breaks reflections fade/ But in some ways they remain the same."  In sitting, I have calmed the waters and seen with clarity. But they don't stay that way, as soon as I poke the reflection to test its veracity, the surface breaks.  The memory of what I've seen echoes, not as clear as the original and slowly fading, but persisting, none the less.

I see those suffering and I just want to pat them on the back and somehow let them know it's alright.

What a Difference

I feel almost  like I'm imagining it, but I really do seem more able to live in the moment now.  I'm a couple months shy of a year since I began my practice in earnest, but there seem to be some graspable changes.

The first indicator should have been months ago, when I found it easier to do things I didn't want to do or that I normally put off for later.  I still struggle, but that little voice in my head telling me to put it off has gotten quieter.  Sometimes I don't hear it, but another voices cheers me on for doing it so I'm still not acting with equanimity.

Instead, the point where I really noticed was when sitting for 45 minutes one morning, a time that a mere few weeks ago would have seemed unthinkable, felt no different than the 10 minutes that I sat later on that day.  It no longer felt like I was waiting for it to end as if I were serving time.

Some of this I attribute to my body relaxing into sitting with appropriate posture but whether this is a cause or effect is unclear since I've noticed my focus on the moment feeling sharper and clearer.  Each moment has an odd weight or groundedness to it, somehow more real as if a my glasses were fogged and they've cleared a little.  The insubstantial still has its own weight, but there is a bolder line drawn between them.

Listening to people has become more intense and I am not easily distracted by thoughts not related to the conversation.  The same goes for reading.  When I realize I've strayed it's a very crisp awakening back to the present, though.

My Aikido shows improvement in focus and intensity of intention and body awareness.  I seem to have found myself as the dojo poster child for the benefits of zazen in Aikido.

All of this seems very different than I remember but how am I to compare who I am now and how I see things with the past to ever know for sure?

Everything seems to have gained an odd immediacy yet I'm more relaxed in dealing with it.  Any anxiety I feel, while rare now, seems natural for the situation and doesn't run my mind around but instead serves to boost my focus just a little.  It doesn't seem to matter whether it's something I want to do or want to avoid, as soon as I've plunged into doing it, it feels right somehow.

I wonder what currently unimaginable changes await me as I wait patiently watching each moment come and go, doing what I can to make the best of each moment.

Applied Practice and Samantabhadra Bodhisatva

I learned a new word today: praxis - "the practice and practical side of a profession or field of study, as opposed to the theory"

I stumbled across it while looking up information about a Bodhisattva my teacher pointed me towards this morning.

I recently put together a little altar to sit next to my cushion where I sit.  It's not an altar like worship-before altar, the statues don't represent gods or anything. Altar is just a convenient word to use. The statues represent concepts like mascots and are basically just reminders of those concepts.

It started out as just the little Jizo that I made a while back. (I used directions found here using Sculpy instead of clay)  Eventually I wanted to add to it and ended up with this after making a Shakyamuni statue, then a Manjushri, adding it to a Kannon statue I already had to match the statues in the zendo.  The background is a cloth covered screen with rice paper.

One day I made a connection between the four statues I had and the four Bodhisattva Vows.  

• Beings are numberless, I vow to save them  -> Kannon is the Bodhisattva of compassion
• Delusions are inexhaustible, I vow to end them -> Manjushri's sword cuts through delusion
• Dharma gates are boundless, I vow to enter them -> Jizo is the Bodhisattva of travelers and a protector of the Dharma
• Buddha's Way is unsurpassable, I vow to become it -> The Buddha... well, he is the Buddha, it's his way

This last one didn't really sit well with me, but I figured it was just a connection that I'd made and nothing more.

Telling my teacher this this morning, I got through the first three and she asked me about the fourth.  I'd made a valid connection, but the reason the last never fit right is because there was a Bodhisattva I'd missed.

Samantabhadra (in Sanskrit, Fugen in Japanese) was the missing one from the set known as the Four Great Bodhisattva.  Samantabadra is the Bodhisattva of Practice, the missing piece.  In practice we we become the Buddha Way.  How about that?  The four of them are usually depicted seated around the Buddha.

On this page about Fugen it says:

..in Asia, there is a grouping called the Four Great Bodhisattva, with each of the four symbolizing a specific aspect of Buddhism. They are Kannon (compassion), Monju (wisdom), Fugen (praxis), and Jizō (vast patience and salvation from suffering)*

There's that word "praxis." Buddhism is just talk without praxis.  I've experienced that myself over the past ten years.  The practice praxis refers to isn't just sitting, but living the teachings. It is the Buddha's Way. There's no difference in the Buddha's Way between sitting and standing (or walking or lying down...), it's an all the time kind of thing so we vow to become it.

As I've mentioned before, zazen is like exercise.  It loosens us up, stretching and strengthening our "praxis muscles" helping us to manifest the teachings in our daily life.  This isn't a concept I have much trouble with, but it was interesting to have that circle completed for me.


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*or by their Sanskrit names: Avalokitesvara (who the Tibetan Buddhists believe the Dalai Lama to be an incarnation of), Manjushri, Samantabhadra, and Ksitigarbha, respectively

The Middle Way Isn't Just the Middle

This weekend I was honored to be able to spend a lot of time around Sojun Mel Weitsman Roshi.  I was lucky enough to be asked to help prepare breakfast for him, my teacher, the resident students, and the Ino as well as a couple others the past two mornings.  It was wonderful to be around him and the others in a relaxed setting.

For those of you who don't know, Sojun Roshi is the abbot of the Berkley Zen Center and a treasured student of the famous and influential Shunryu Suzuki Roshi.  He's a very kind and gentle, insightful person who has obviously worked very hard at cultivating himself.

He's also realistic and modest enough to admit to us that while he is a priest, he's also a bad person sometimes, too. "Seriously?" you ask, "how is this possible? He's one of a handful of the most respected Zen teachers in the country if not the world."  Even so, he's still human and his practice continues after all these years just as ours does.

He admitted this as part of his dharma talk on Saturday morning at the Houston Zen Center in which he discussed a deeper dimension of what the "Middle Way" of Buddhism really is.

To begin his talk he brought up the first koan given to students in the Rinzai sect.  As I think I've mentioned before, Soto Zen doesn't use koan the same as Rinzai, but they're still a useful teaching tool that I've recently come to appreciate.

So the koan.  It's actually a pretty popularly known one, known even outside of exclusive Zen circles.

A monk asked Joshu, "Has the dog Buddha nature or not?" Joshu said, "Mu."

 Mu essentially translates as "no." It's not a literal translation, that's closer to "not any."  On another occasion the same monk asked again and Joshu replies in the affirmative.*

It is an accepted Buddhist concept that all beings, sentient or insentient, have Buddha nature so the initial negative answer wasn't what the monk was expecting which is probably why he asked again later.  The truth didn't change even though two opposite answers were given.

The reality or truth, Sojun Roshi said, is the Middle Way. Both answers are correct and neither are correct at the same time.  This is tricky ground because it is the use of dualistic language to explain a non-dualistic concept.  Language by definition is dualistic since each word is defined just as much by what it means as by what it doesn't mean, that's just how it works.  Not every word has an opposite, but each word both includes and excludes meaning.

Before whenever I thought about what makes the Middle Way, I thought it meant the mean between any two extremes, moderation  Everything he said lead me to understand that the truth of the matter is that the Middle Way isn't just the middle, but it's all inclusive.  The answer to the question of whether or not a dog has Buddha nature is yes and no because everything is interconnected, nothing is independent.  To say something is independent implies that it is separate from something else.

So because the dog has Buddha nature it doesn't have Buddha nature.  A tree is no different than a car, they're not exactly the same but they're not separate.  The nature of a tree depends on the nature of the car for its identity.

Sojun Roshi also applied this to truly live life is to walk the Middle Way among birth and death.  Each moment the self we are (as well as the whole universe) dies and is reborn as a new moment takes its place. This reminds me of the image used in Japanese swordsmanship schools of a piece of paper with the character for "life/birth" printed on one side and "death" on the other.  This is to remind us that the spacing that separates survival and death in an attack is the thickness of a piece of paper.  In Zen we live in this space sandwiched between birth and death.  It is not exclusive of birth and death but is neither birth and death.

See how the duality of language makes illuminating the truth so difficult?  Zazen is the practice of sweeping away the structure of definition and duality we've built up over the course of our lives.  There's no way to intellectualize our way to the heart of the matter since each thought we grasp at builds up new layers to hide the truth.  Our true nature is always there it's just waiting for us to settle the dust clouds we've kicked up by labeling and defining every new thing we encounter.  The common image used in Zen is that of the reflection of the moon (perception of the truth) in a pool of water (our minds).  Until we quiet our mind, all we see is the shattered multiplicity of the reflection.  Actively thinking just stirs up the water as we grasp at the reflection.

So everything is the same, without difference: comfort and discomfort, good and bad, right and wrong, you and me, matter and energy, true and false.  You name it (or don't) it's all the same just as much as it's different. 

Why worry about anything, what is there to fear?  You do what you do because it's what you can.  To truly experience the undiluted life, to be free of discontentment, we have to make the effort and investment to shake off our attachment to duality.  Excessive focus on the past, whether fond memories or regrets is leaning into death.  Focus on the future with dreams and worries is leaning into birth.  Neither is bad, we don't live exclusively from them, but we don't live in either of them.  We need to learn from our mistakes in the past and organize the future.  We have to see that our hesitations and fears are the product of our ego struggling to establish itself as perfect (and sometimes unconsciously just as oppositely tragic) .  Let yourself make mistakes, we all do.  Accept them and learn from them.

As we all stumble along our own paths, struggling to walk the Middle Way, we drift to the right and to the left.  Coming back to the middle is no more than an intention to not ignore either extreme, not trying to avoid either. 

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*The previous explanation that I'd always heard didn't include the "yes" response.  Instead "mu" is a non-answer, telling the monk that he's asking the wrong question.  There is no answer because the question is irrelevant.  We can't find the truth by asking questions, it can't be given to us.  We have to find it on our own.  The Buddha found the truth through zazen, there was no one for him to ask questions.  For that reason, we sit.  Questions help us understand what we experience, but there is no new information.

Vow for the October Moon

So last month's vow went alright.  We didn't eat fast food as much and were better about what we ate when we did go out.  I cooked more and healthier, but it's still an ongoing process.

This month I've chosen to take a different route.  Rather than focus on one of the Precepts, the spirit of my practice is what I've picked.

I don't usually have very much trouble being generous.  I'm not perfect, so there are definitely times when I could be more generous.

The issue I have is with receiving generosity, complements and gratitude.  When I give any of those, it's not that big a deal to me.  I sincerely mean it, but  I don't have to yank it out from somewhere deep inside, but for some it is. 

I don't react to the way I'd like to compliments naturally and sometimes I could see it as being rude.  I have trouble receiving and just saying thank you.  It comes alright in situations like work, thanking people for what they've done, but compliments are tricky.  Also many offers of generosity, I receive reluctantly or awkwardly.  I have trouble accepting help, probably out of pride, but who knows.

Zen monastics traditionally would go out into the community and practice takuhatsu, or alms begging.  They would accept whatever was placed in their bowl with equanimity.  In addition to providing food for the for the temple, it provided the monks with an opportunity to practice acceptance.  For those donating to them, it was an opportunity to practice non-attachment and generosity.  (Watching TV just now, a commercial reminds me that Trick-or-Treating is similar to this but joy is the currency of the transaction)

So my vow for October and for the rest of my life, is to live with "open hands."  This is the best way I can think of it. Living with open hands isn't just about giving freely, but receiving freely as well.  Everything: the good and bad in all situations, feelings, people, compliments and criticism, gifts both given and offered.  I will try my best to keep my hands open to neither hold on to or reject.


I'll start by saying thank you to everyone that reads my words, whether you comment or not.  Thank you to everyone that opens themselves to others through their writing as well.

Contagious Calmness

So, I've still got it.

One of the classes I'm taking right now is called A La Carte.  It's really fun and easy (although sometimes frustrating) for those of us with industry experience. (A lot of my fellow students have never worked, or honestly will ever be able to hack it, in real restaurants)

Basically the class is divided into four groups of 4-6 people and we rotate staffing each portion of a restaurant at school.  People can come and have a student prepared six course lunch served to them by students for only $10 per person.  Each group rotates through hot station, cold station, dish pit, and service staff with the teacher, who actually is one, serving as chef.  One of the added benefits for us industry pros is that the chef allows one of us to serve as sous-chef and expediter each class.

This position in a classically structured French kitchen using the brigade system is the chef's first officer.  The sous-chef, or "under-chef" serves as a go between for the chef and staff, making sure things get done.  In most kitchens during service time they act as expediter, taking orders from the waitstaff and communicating them to the kitchen then staging them for service and finishing them off by wiping plates and adding garnish.

This is what I got to do today.  I've wanted to be expediter at just about every restaurant that I've worked in, but even though it takes a slightly different skill set than other positions, I was never taken seriously or believed in since I don't excel in back of the house* positions.

At school we don't have fancy computers to print out tickets so each server turns in a ticket for each table's order all at once.  Normally each course has a separate ticket that goes out with the food.  Instead the servers ask for each course to be "fired" and the expediter relays that to whatever station is responsible for that course.  The station then prepares it and puts it in the "window" which is a shelf between them and the expediter.  The expediter then wipes any drips and dresses the plate with any garnish to "sell" it in their own window between them and the servers or food runners.

Doesn't sound all that hard, does it?  Well, tickets come in constantly as well as servers coming back on top of each other to fire different courses.  Sometimes there are modifiers to an item, such as no bacon, a vegetarian substitution, or desired doneness.  The expediter will "add on" another number of items to a station and the station will call back the order to confirm.  If a certain number of items has already been called and more need to be added, the expediter will add on the new number and then add that to whatever has been already called, letting the station know how many they need "all day."

The expediter has to keep straight what's been fired and what hasn't yet, what's been sold to them and to what table it's going.  Sometimes servers make mistakes and need an order "on the fly," or they have to go back to the table to let their guest know we're out of something because it wasn't sufficiently communicated to them that an item was "86'd" because the kitchen is out of it.  There's all kind of slang that will put you "in the weeds" if you don't learn it quickly.  On top of all that, in the real world, kitchens are a cesspool of machismo and trash talking is the vernacular. If you can't hold your own, the kitchen won't respect you and they'll still make work near impossible. It can get hectic.

I had five servers each with about three tables each ranging from one to eight people, which I was told was the most we'd had all semester. I think we served 37 people.   Every one did a really good job and we got it done without any serious problems.

The thing that really pleased me was something that I hadn't heard in more than five years.  Before he left, the chef thanked me for doing such a great job and keeping a cool head.  The expediter has to have the strongest personality in the kitchen to keep things in control and he noted how well lunch service went despite issues in the dining room and the volume we did.

Back in the day, when I worked in a "quick service restaurant" (QSR, that's industry-speak for fast food.  Seriously, there's even a trade magazine by that title) I really knew what I was doing.  First of all, it wasn't really that complicated, but it was a lot of stuff to do and the volume a QSR can do during a weekday lunch can be insane.  If all the pieces don't fall into place, it's very possible for it all to come crashing down.  People freak out about irate customers, the grill person can lose count of how many patties are on the grill, there's a lot of stuff that can go wrong.

In my four and a half years of dedicated service, I had confidence in my ability. I take pride in my work and it showed.  I'd show up with a job to do and the intent to get it done.  Stuff happens, I'd push through it.  Freaking out isn't going to fix anything.  There were shifts where Murphy's Law was proved accurate and I just kept going.  I had several managers over the years tell me that I was like a calming influence on the crew. The freaking out would begin, I'd come up from that first drive thru window (it's actually referred to as the "bubble") to help out and everything would calm down.

I enjoyed the work, it didn't pay well enough for me to stick around any longer, but I do miss it sometimes. Working the drive thru, I'd have nearly 120 brief conversations with interesting guests everyday.  Through my back window I got to watch many South Texas sunsets.

The difference between that and what happened today was that back then my confidence was based on experience.  I knew the limits and all the variables, and I could do the work. I knew I could because I already had.  Today my confidence was a little of that, but it was mostly just guts.  There were a few times when I'd look down at the tickets and couldn't remember what they hell I'd called for or sold or anything.  I'd take a breath and attack the situation one thing at a time.

The funny thing about this was during my last dokusan ** this past Tuesday, my teacher asked me about whether or not I was paying any attention to my practice while at school.  Sure, I find myself correcting my posture or watching my breath, focusing on just what I'm doing in front of me, but these aren't really new things.  I enjoy what I do at school, so I'm usually pretty focused.  It was a difficult question to answer.

But that question Tuesday really primed my mind to be aware of what was going on when the going got tough today and it was nice.  I didn't have the option to freak out and just run away, I mean I did.. but not really.  I had to just keep going, and I did.

Keeping your head in a situation, especially one where everyone around you is losing it, can really impact how things will pan out.  I really feel this is one of the best ways my practice shines in my life.  This is the Bodhisattva  way and saving all beings really does start with yourself.  By improving my ability to keep my cool, I've saved others from losing it.  The effort really pays off.

So keep two things in mind.

The first, next time you go out to eat, whether full service or just the drive thru, yeah the people working there may be idiots screwing everything up, but it's a tough job that a lot of people don't appreciate. Be nice to them, pissing off the people that feed you is never a good idea.***  Food service professionals work long hard hours in hot cramped quarters so that others can enjoy a nice meal before heading to the movies with their sweetie after making probably better money sitting in an air conditioned office in a nice comfy chair crunching numbers on a computer.

Second, be mindful of how your attitude affects those around you.  It can be pretty easy to just go with the flow and let it all go to hell, but with just a little effort you can turn it all around.  Even if no one else realizes it or appreciates, you'll know. 

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*"Back of the house" refers to the kitchen, while "front of the house" refers to the dining room.  Traditionally the maître d’hôtel, "master of the hotel/house"or maître d' for short, is responsible for the front and the
chef de cuisine, or "boss (chief) of the kitchen" is responsible for the kitchen with various other chefs under him.

*** While spitting in food or other such childish things are actually considered food tampering and a felony, there are things they can do that can't be prosecuted.  Orders do honestly get mixed up, but not all the time, fixing it takes time and even if it's comped you're never getting that time back.  What time did that show start again?  Do you still have time to eat your food before you have to get back to the office?
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Forgot to mention post at Dangerous Harvests with a similar theme that I enjoyed.  I know I never seem to mention anybody else, but it just happens that way