“Who is he?”

June 16, 2017 § Leave a comment

Hoen said: “The past and future Buddhas, both are his servants. Who is he?”

Mumon’s comment: If you realize clearly who he is, it is as if you met your own father on a busy street. There is no need to ask anyone whether or not your recognition is true.

Do not fight with another’s bow and arrow.

Do not ride another’s horse.

Do not discuss another’s faults.

Do not interfere with another’s work.

­“The Gateless Gate” (Koan 45)

Most come to the path with the question, “Who am I?” Hoen asks, “Who is he?”

To the Buddhist there is no permanent self. What others call a permanent self is actually an ever-changing collection of feelings, perceptions and thoughts associated with a physical body. Out of this aggregate comes a concept of self that is presumed to be permanent but which is, in fact, constantly in flux.

The self is just an endless line of passing stages given names like child, adult, husband, wife, happy, sad, etc. Underneath these there is no self but that no self is not nothingness. It is the innermost essence of all sentient beings.

In meditation you study self to drop self and in doing so come to know your true essence. When studying self you ask, “Who am I?” But when the self is dropped and your essence revealed, it is seen as the ‘other’. The question then becomes, “Who is the other? Who is he? Who is she?”

It is through their actions that others are known.

In the documentary “Possibilities” the great jazz musician, Herbie Hancock, said, “A master wants you to reveal yourself.” Herbie Hancock wasn’t suggesting that he was a master. He was merely saying that when he encouraged musicians to show their talent, and he showed his, that something of greater value arose than if he just told them what to play. In the true sense of the koan, Herbie Hancock was asking the question, “Who is he?” It wasn’t the ego he wanted to know but the musician and he could only know that by how the person played.

You might imagine that Herbie Hancock wouldn’t be impressed by a musician playing in another’s style. In the words of the koan, that musician would have been riding another’s horse or fighting with another’s bow and arrow. You might also imagine that he wouldn’t point out faults or interfere with another’s playing if it truly came from the heart. Whether a true expression was feast or famine, Hancock’s idea was to turn it into something of value.

That is how to approach koan 45, if not life in general. Take your inner recognition and find a way to express it that is your own. Take each moment and turn it into something of value. And in each encounter with others, seek to do the same. It is the expression that is all-important.

Never a dull moment.

May 28, 2017 § Leave a comment

I am intrigued by the following description of Mae Chee Kaew’s inner activity before her enlightenment, found in “Mae CheeKaew. Her Journey to Spiritual Awakening and Enlightenment.” By Bhikkhu Silaratano.

The author writes that Mae Chee Kaew “began to meticulously scrutinize her mind’s extraordinary radiance, looking for any signs of imperfection. The luminous mind appeared unblemished, untroubled and exceedingly pure at first. But when she looked at it more closely she began to notice that an equally refined dullness occasionally emerged to tarnish that radiant, crystal-clear essence of knowing.”

Although it may not be readily apparent, what the author describes is essentially the same meditation practice that you or I undertake each time we sit.

Mae Chee Kaew’s meticulously scrutiny is analogous to the mental alertness that we aspire to in meditation. Her search for imperfection is our endeavor to wake up from distracting thought. And the dullness that tarnished her ‘crystal-clear essence of knowing’ is just a highly refined or subtle thought. Unlike Mae Chee Kaew, our thoughts are less subtle and our own knowing not crystal-clear. Nonetheless, when we sit in meditation we examine the same Buddha mind she did in the same way.

Whether a thought is coarse or refined, it still dulls awareness of the present moment. Whether the mind is clear or murky, it is still Buddha mind. Your mind is the radiant, luminous mind. All you need do to see this is wake from the thoughts that dull your awareness, the crystal-clear essence of knowing.

To quote Mumon from The Gateless Gate, if one sees this clearly “there is no Shakyamuni Buddha before him and no future Buddha after him.” That is to say, all concepts obscure the ever-present Buddha Mind, even the concept of Buddha. So when you sit, drop all expectation of ‘something else’ because the very mind you have right now is Buddha mind.

Dropping all expectation is returning to the present moment. In the present moment there is delusion and realization, practice, life and death, buddhas and living beings. When we sit with simple awareness, flowers die and weeds grow without clinging or aversion. When we stray into thinking, we return once again to the present moment, expecting nothing, seeking nothing.

Realizing that practice is simply stepping back on the path each time you step off, with no expectation of anything happening, may make you feel a bit like King Sisyphus. In Greek myth he was forced, over and over for eternity, to roll an immense boulder up a hill only to have it roll back down upon him. But if we awaken to the fact that this simple returning to the path each time we step off is the actualization of our own Buddha nature, then we are firmly on the path to realizing the luminous Buddha mind.

Upon her enlightenment Mae Chee Kaew’s said,

“Body, mind and essence are all distinct and separate realities. Absolutely everything is known — earth, water, fire and wind; body, feeling, memory, thought and consciousness; sounds, sights, smells, tastes, touches and emotions; anger, greed and delusion — all are known.

“I know them all as they exist — in their own natural states.

“But no matter how much I am exposed to them, I am unable to detect even an instant when they have any power over my heart. They arise, they cease. They are forever changing. But the presence that knows them never changes for an instant. It is forever unborn and undying.”

To quote Mumon, again, “If you understand this intimately, you yourself can enter the great meditation while you are living in the world of delusion.”

An Oak Tree in the Garden

May 6, 2017 § Leave a comment

An oak tree in the garden stands on its own. It doesn’t seek a teacher to tell it where it must go or how to get there. An oak tree in the garden knows there are no enlightened ones and no enlightenment.

An oak tree in the garden doesn’t think this is what it must do or this is what it must achieve. It knows there is nothing to do and nothing to achieve. An oak tree in the garden knows there is no delusion and no realization.

An oak tree in the garden knows the fallen rain rising up through its roots. Yet it does not feel lack or something missing when, reaching its leaves, the rain returns to the sky. Within the oak things arise and fall yet all the while the oak remains unaffected. The oak tree in the garden is forever unborn and undying.

An oak tree in the garden actualizes itself exactly as it is in every moment. In delusion and realization, life and death, buddhas and living beings. It does not need to think about this. It does not need words to describe it. The heart’s message cannot be delivered in words.

When you meet a Zen master on the road

April 4, 2017 § Leave a comment

Meditation is the practice of waking from the world of thought to the reality of the present moment. Koan study is one way to practice this waking.

In “The Gateless Gate,” koan 36 has Goso saying, “When you meet a Zen master on the road you cannot talk to him, you cannot face him with silence. What are you going to do?”

Mumon’s commentary on the koan reads: In such a case, if you can answer him intimately, your realization will be beautiful, but if you cannot, you should look about without seeing anything.

Meeting a Zen master on the road,

Face him neither with words nor silence.

Give him an uppercut

And you will be called one who understands Zen.

 

A key part of this koan is Mumon’s, “you should look about without seeing anything.” It is quite impossible to look and not see anything, so we need to go beyond any idea of ordinary perception to understand these words. But we needn’t step into the extraordinary because to look without seeing simply means to see the present moment without distraction.

Distractions are many. We are all thought litterbugs who toss judgments, fear and desire out onto the landscape to spoil the beauty that is actually there. So Mumon asks we focus on the moment and not the litter. He tells us to look without seeing.

Koan 36 addresses a particular type of thought litter surrounding authority but to understand it we must talk a little about the mind.

The mind works by constantly favoring significant details of life, while ignoring the insignificant. Actions considered favorable are encouraged, while others that do not are discouraged. Once the mind has figured out which is which, it sets up mental blocks or barriers to keep self-expression within the boundaries of what is acceptable. Over time these barriers fall into the background of consciousness where they exert their influence invisibly, or as projections in the outer world. Either way, their authoritative force is felt to be something exterior to the self.

To study this feature of the mind koan 36 provides a hypothetical Zen master as the recipient of projected authority and conflicting rules to represent its barriers. As with any koan, this study is not just an intellectual exercise but must involve the whole person. The full power of awareness must be brought to bear on the inner experience of being blocked by one’s projections. The invisible restrictions placed upon the self must be felt and made visible. Only then will the barriers be seen as your own mind operating as if it were some exterior force.

The coercive force of authority in social situations, like that presented in the koan, generally come from the belief that power resides in the other. If this belief is held within awareness and compared to the present moment, it will be seen as false. Then, something clicks, and you realize that it simply makes no sense to coerce yourself into inaction or into doing something you don’t want to do.

This “Aha!” moment is symbolized as an uppercut in the koan’s poem. It is not a call to actually hit someone but a representation of the spontaneous energy of the self being released.

With this initial realization the mind’s barriers begin to crumble. As it deepens and extends to other areas of life, all the authoritarian thoughts littering your mental landscape become apparent. The full realization of this “will be beautiful”, to use the words of the koan. “And you will be called one who understands Zen”.

Contemplation

March 16, 2017 § Leave a comment

Meditation may be described as ‘awareness waking to the present moment from all distraction,’ those distractions being mostly thought or thinking (includes emotion).

Initial instruction on meditation is to focus on some object, such as the breath, to steady the mind and develop concentration. After a state of relative calmness is attained and the novice no longer falls into fanciful reverie, the stage is set for deeper contemplation and insight.

Contemplation is more often linked with western mysticism but is also found in Buddhism. In its highest sense contemplation is a ‘power of knowing’ that comes from total concentration of one’s entire being on a single object, resulting in a fusion of the subject with the object. Western Contemplation is similar to eastern Samadhi that also results in fusion but just as there are various kinds of Samadhi, so are there different levels of contemplation.

As used here, contemplation is still a power of knowing but lacks the fusion of subject and object. In this type of contemplation thought is held in awareness for examination where, through an act of discrimination, insight into its true nature is revealed.

Examination of this type is not so much an intellectual process as an observational one. Imagine, for instance, watching some people off in the distance. You can see they are doing something but don’t know what. So you watch, hoping it’ll all make sense. Although there may be some silent attempt to put the activity into context, by and large thinking is suspended as you wait for the situation to reveal itself. This inquiring observation without thought or prejudgment is what is meant by examination.

Where discrimination comes in lies in the above mentioned ‘silent’ attempt to put the activity into some context. To put something in context requires it be discriminated from all things that it is not. Discrimination is used in meditation, for example, to see the difference between distracting thought and the present moment. In contemplation, this act of discrimination is taken further to reveal the true nature of thought.

Higher contemplation doesn’t develop until the mind has attained a certain level of calm and is able to hold an object in mind without distraction. But as the word is used here, it is possible to contemplate those complex aggregates of thought that arouse intense emotion. In fact, many times one can do nothing but attend to bothersome thoughts and feelings during meditation.

At times when emotions are intense, walking away is sometimes necessary. But when the mind has developed sufficient strength it becomes possible to hold complex aggregates of thought and feeling up for examination. The aim is not to psychoanalyze but to discriminate them from what is actually going on in the present moment. In so doing thought is eventually seen to be of the same stuff as a dream, a dream from which one may wake.

By fully separating what is going on in the head from the outside world, the difference between the two is seen and a certain degree of freedom attained. Then the full power of contemplation may be turned upon the ego or self. Not to compare it to the outer world but to That which is contemplating this self. This is Contemplation in the higher sense that leads to Self-Transcendence and the eventual realization of no self or Identity with Suchness.

Non-thinking

February 23, 2017 § Leave a comment

evolution-of-thought-non-thinking

When Priest Yaoshan was sitting in meditation a monk asked, ”What do you think about, sitting in steadfast composure?”

 

Yaoshan said, “I think not thinking.”

 

The monk said, “How do you think not thinking?”

 

Yaoshan said, “Non-thinking.”

 

This brief Zen story may seem abstruse but when ‘thinking not thinking’ is interpreted as not following thought, it falls into place with meditation as the practice of continuous waking from distraction to the present moment.

We come to realize the extent of our distraction only after some attempts to practice being in the present moment. We find that our days have been spent watching thought play out on an inner screen. The stories we’ve projected about life, what people say about us, and what we think about ourselves, we’ve taken to be real. And we come to see that we’ve been interacting with these stories more than we have to the actual world.

To stop this we must first create an intention not to follow thought or, as Yaoshan said, ‘think not thinking.’ One way of doing this is described in the yoga aphorisms of Patanjali. He described thoughts as waves that have a certain force that must be countered by opposing waves of thought. Hateful thoughts, for example, are to be countered with thoughts of loving-kindness. By continually creating opposing waves of thought, the mind is eventually stilled.

In other practice thoughts are simply labeled as ‘thinking, thinking, thinking’. Emotions are identified as ‘fear, fear, fear’ or ‘boredom, boredom, boredom’, etc. The same is done with other distractions such as noises or physical discomfort. All distractions are labeled and the attention is returned to the present moment. In this way the mind uses thought to not follow thought.

Labeling thought has its place with simple distractions but there are more complex aggregates of thought and emotion that are not so easily named. These are the thoughts that are identified as self, and they naturally arise with thoughts that stand in opposition to the self. In psychology these opposing forces have many descriptors like the id and superego, the inner child and internalized parent or the underdog and the top dog. However they’re called, the conflict they produce may often make it impossible to simply sit and be in the present moment.

Holding these opposing forces up for thoughtful examination often helps to clarify and resolve conflicts. The aim is not so much psychoanalysis but a genuine attempt to realize these forces as merely thoughts that do not need to be followed or obeyed. When, for example, an inner parent has you feeling like a child again, by continually comparing your inner situation to the outer, i.e., the present moment, you come to realize that the parent exists only in your mind. Seeing this clearly means there is no need to follow the parent’s dictates, if they are not appropriate to the situation. It may have been in part related to these conflicts that Zen Master Dogen said, “Sometimes you study the way by casting off the mind. Sometimes you study the way by taking up the mind. Either way, study the way with thinking, and study the way with non-thinking.”

In the beginning of practice it is necessary to use thought to stop following thought. But when the intention not to think has become so established that it is carried out without thinking, as in a habit, thoughts are dropped automatically. Awareness of the present moment then arises naturally. That moment may still contain thoughts but they remain off to the side, so to speak. This alert awareness is non-thinking.

Non-thinking is not some far off goal. Whenever we are alert and momentarily not following thought; that is non-thinking. Whenever awareness is centered in the present, this is non-thinking. These may not be states that occur often in our practice but they are something we can experience today. And that is our practice, to take our isolated moments of non-thinking and turn them into a continuous string of never ending pearls.

The Ocean of Consciousness

January 21, 2017 § 5 Comments

heron-by-the-sea

Meditation is the continuous waking to the present moment from distracting thoughts. This description implies a need to learn the difference between thinking and non-thinking. In practice this means we must be as the heron that has one eye out for food, while the other looks steadfastly to the sky.

It is a sad fact that the vast majority of humanity is so caught up in distraction that life seems barren without it. There is little of the light of the higher life in these masses who disdain the silence of meditation in a fruitless quest to satisfy their cravings.

Above the majority are those whose circumstance and desire has enabled this light to burn a little brighter. These are the quasi-intellectual, semi-cultured ones who often gravitate towards ideology and dogmatism. In these the conceit of ego often erupts in senseless disputes that may at times lead to political chaos and even war.

There are fewer still above these two lower levels who, though still possessing of ego, have learned to put it aside in favor of humanity. We may say of them that their stream of thought is actively dedicated to helping others.

For the most part, thinking dominates the minds of all who are led by ego and desire. In the actual day-to-day experience it plays out as an on-going dialogue and stream of emotion that is often described as a movie projected onto an inner, mental screen. To the greater mass of humanity this movie is fragmented and chaotic. The quasi-intellectual may have more of a story line but it is the rare few above them whose movies may be of ‘epic’ proportions.

For those who meditate and practice mindfulness it may take a long time before they can just observe their movies without being caught up in them. The individual suffering Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder provides an extreme example of this.

For most of us, even when focused upon a simple task the mind plays a story that we soon find ourselves following. When we become aware of this we can usually drop it and return to the task. For the individual suffering PTSD, however, there is no end to the movie. Worst still, the  movie doesn’t just involve the mind but has the entire body reacting to the horrific images being screened. And at the height of anxiety the movie may even jump off the screen into the outside world, leaving the individual feeling as if he or she were trapped in a theatre with no exit.

Whereas PTSD is produced by trauma, our movie producers are our culture, family, personal talents and other attributes that go into making us who we are. It is because our movies are so intricately involved with our identity that they are difficult to drop. And why when we persist on the path that a point comes when anxiety sets in. This anxiety is a signal that we are loosening the very attachments that make us feel safe and secure. Having pruned the tree of distraction, we begin to realize that we must leave its cool shade if we are to fully enter the light.

This is where many fail to progress to the next level that we may call Cosmic or Transcendent Consciousness. The ego, in sensing a Voice that says “I am I yet also Others,” fears the loss of its personal identity. So it hesitates. But if we continue to set one eye on the sky and the other on what lies below the surface, we will eventually see that we’ve been standing in an Ocean of Consciousness, all along.

Where Am I?

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