The last day of the retreat was remarkable only in it's unremarkableness. We had to rush a little bit to finish up the text, but then again, the last part of the text is also a summing up, so it was okay to go a little faster.
These chapters in Dogen's "Treasury of the True Dharma Eye" were teaching aids for him, essentially his lesson plan for his students, and it is unlikely he intended that they be reviewed as we are reviewing them now. It is not the text of a speech,and these are probably just outlines and reminders about what he intended to say during the lesson.
It is important to remember that and not turn these into Holy relics.
However, I have further come to understand that Dogen is undergoing a bit of a revival now, and why. Zen Buddhism has become religious, overly so in Japan for some time now, and now that it is taking root in the US it is also beginning to veer in the direction. Shaved heads, robes, dharma-names, etc., these are all the trappings of setting up an separately-existing individually-identifiable group called "Zen Buddhists." Just as the greed, hatred and ignorance displayed by modern Christianity marks its break with the message of Jesus Christ, Zen Buddhism is making the same mistake by trying to be something special and separate.
The shaving of heads originally was done so that zen monks could travel in openly barbaric lands without being attacked. It identified them as NOT being soldiers, or any other kind of threat. Now, it is a seen as a mark of devotion to the rejection of seeking after beauty/virility, at best. It has nothing to do with the techings.
Dogen's teachings, if brought into full flower in modernity, could be an opposing force to all this religiosity in zen. I am not the only student similarly concerned, in fact, this is something like the groundswell that swept Obama into office. Zen's organizational leadership in the US seems sort of oblivious to the fact that a large number of zen students reject their emphasis on being grim, and formal, and Japanese. I think that is part of the reason that people are attracted to Dogen, he definitely rejects all that while vigorously making a case for the foundations of practice--sitting zazen, being generous, being kind, cultivating wisdom. He is to zen what Mother Teresa is to Christianity.
The drive back to Indianapolis was pleasant--nice weather, lots of wildflowers. My companion got on a flight that left as soon as we arrived, I flew standby on a flight that left about an hour and a half after that, which was 2 hours late itself. My flight didn't leave Indianapolis until I was already back in Harlem, and my bags were on that flight. Yay, air travel!
I am now enjoying my last down-day before returning to work. Zen retreat is done, back to practice. Thanks for reading.
Tuesday, May 5, 2009
Sunday, May 3, 2009
Genzo-e retreat - Day 4 - Buying a book.
There's always something that happens that is emblematic and symbolic of my experience with a new zen center. Today it was buying a book.
Like most zen centers, they have a collection of books for sale, usually those written and/or edited by the resident teacher, this one is no exception. Shohaku Okumura is a scholar, writing is what he does, and he's been doing his life's work for 40 years. Even though it is excruciatingly slow to do what he does, in that time he has authored a number of books.
I already own a couple of them, but I was trying to make a choice today about which one among those I do not own to buy while I am here. I consulted my traveling companion who is very familiar with these books, and he recommend a particular one, "Opening The Hand of Thought," which Okumura edited. It is Okumura's teacher's writings (Kosho Uchiyama) for "serious students of zen," or so it asserts on it's cover.
On the bookshelf above the books for sale is a stack of forms with a sign that says "fill these out to purchase a book." Behind that is a box that says "for book sales" on it. On the form it instructs you to place the money with this form in the box behind it.
I reached up to do that and someone told me "Oh, we don't do book sales like that any more, you have to give the money directly to the Ino." Actually, this happened more than once, and the exact same instruction came from more than one person. I have been picking up books for a couple of days and each time someone new has given me this helpful instruction.
Ok, I thought to myself, then why do they still have this sign up here, the forms available, and a box clearly labeled "for book sales" behind it? Never mind, I further said to myself, just take the book, find the Ino (pronounced EE-no, aka the practice director, sort of the administrator for the zendo), and get it over with.
So, this was just before the afternoon lecture, so I cornered the Ino in the zendo and asked him "I have some money for a book, when would you like to have it?"
He looked at me quizzically, and said "After the retreat," then he corrected himself and said "I mean, after the lecture today."
I thanked him and sat down. After the lecture I found him again and offered him the money.
He said, patiently, "We have some forms up there that need to be filled out, then you can just put the form together with the money in the box behind them" while looking at me as if he was wondering why I was buying a book if I clearly couldn't read simple instructions.
There you go. That's this place in a nutshell.
It's not bad, not at all, it is just a relatively new center and they have a lot to work out. One thing that frustrates me to no end about American Zen is that the centers eat their young. By that I mean new students have to endure a lot of bullshit uncertainty, almost hazing, in order to find their way around, and then each center operates as if they are the only center which does things correctly, and a lot of these procedures and traditions seem to exist only to support the practice of the more experienced students, who should be supporting the newbies! Every single center falls victim to this to some degree or another, one can't just walk in, read the signs, and know what to do. No, you have to mess something up and be corrected before the correct procedures are revealed to you. Argh.
So, the fourth day is over, the lectures continue to be eye-popping and fascinating, and I am very, very happy that I went to the trouble and expense to do this one. I will look back on this as a turning point in my zen practice, the point at which I realized that Dogen truly is my homie. I am in the right lineage, this is where I belong.
Tomorrow is just a half-day, one lecture, and then we drive in Indianapolis for the flight back to Newark. That will be quite the transition, and I expect I will sum it up tomorrow night.
Again, if you understood anything I said about zen, I'm sorry, I caused you to completely miss it.
Like most zen centers, they have a collection of books for sale, usually those written and/or edited by the resident teacher, this one is no exception. Shohaku Okumura is a scholar, writing is what he does, and he's been doing his life's work for 40 years. Even though it is excruciatingly slow to do what he does, in that time he has authored a number of books.
I already own a couple of them, but I was trying to make a choice today about which one among those I do not own to buy while I am here. I consulted my traveling companion who is very familiar with these books, and he recommend a particular one, "Opening The Hand of Thought," which Okumura edited. It is Okumura's teacher's writings (Kosho Uchiyama) for "serious students of zen," or so it asserts on it's cover.
On the bookshelf above the books for sale is a stack of forms with a sign that says "fill these out to purchase a book." Behind that is a box that says "for book sales" on it. On the form it instructs you to place the money with this form in the box behind it.
I reached up to do that and someone told me "Oh, we don't do book sales like that any more, you have to give the money directly to the Ino." Actually, this happened more than once, and the exact same instruction came from more than one person. I have been picking up books for a couple of days and each time someone new has given me this helpful instruction.
Ok, I thought to myself, then why do they still have this sign up here, the forms available, and a box clearly labeled "for book sales" behind it? Never mind, I further said to myself, just take the book, find the Ino (pronounced EE-no, aka the practice director, sort of the administrator for the zendo), and get it over with.
So, this was just before the afternoon lecture, so I cornered the Ino in the zendo and asked him "I have some money for a book, when would you like to have it?"
He looked at me quizzically, and said "After the retreat," then he corrected himself and said "I mean, after the lecture today."
I thanked him and sat down. After the lecture I found him again and offered him the money.
He said, patiently, "We have some forms up there that need to be filled out, then you can just put the form together with the money in the box behind them" while looking at me as if he was wondering why I was buying a book if I clearly couldn't read simple instructions.
There you go. That's this place in a nutshell.
It's not bad, not at all, it is just a relatively new center and they have a lot to work out. One thing that frustrates me to no end about American Zen is that the centers eat their young. By that I mean new students have to endure a lot of bullshit uncertainty, almost hazing, in order to find their way around, and then each center operates as if they are the only center which does things correctly, and a lot of these procedures and traditions seem to exist only to support the practice of the more experienced students, who should be supporting the newbies! Every single center falls victim to this to some degree or another, one can't just walk in, read the signs, and know what to do. No, you have to mess something up and be corrected before the correct procedures are revealed to you. Argh.
So, the fourth day is over, the lectures continue to be eye-popping and fascinating, and I am very, very happy that I went to the trouble and expense to do this one. I will look back on this as a turning point in my zen practice, the point at which I realized that Dogen truly is my homie. I am in the right lineage, this is where I belong.
Tomorrow is just a half-day, one lecture, and then we drive in Indianapolis for the flight back to Newark. That will be quite the transition, and I expect I will sum it up tomorrow night.
Again, if you understood anything I said about zen, I'm sorry, I caused you to completely miss it.
Dogen: Let me make a stab at an example of what I am learning.
Several people have asked me to provide an example of what I have learned at this retreat. OK, you asked for it. :-)
This chapter of the "Treasury of the True Dharma Eye" is called, by this teacher, "One Bright Jewel." Most teachers call it "One Bright Pearl," including my own teacher. If you search Google, for example, for "one+bright+jewel" you find references to a line from the chapter circulated as a relatively famous zen saying, mostly.
If you search for "one+bright+pearl" you find a multitude of references to the chapter we are studying, including books and translations of it.
One Bright Pearl is wrong. Fundamentally wrong. This is not a minor distinction.
The word in Japanese, ju, is semantically ambiguous, it can be pearl or jewel, sort of like "stone" can mean a rock in the driveway or a $4M diamond.
There is a metaphor in zen and buddhist literature called the mani jewel. Here's a typical reference to it. In some stories it is figuratively described as a jewel one could place in muddy water and the water would instantly clear and be safe to drink.
The difference between a pearl and a clear colorless jewel, as the mani jewel is figuratively known, is that the jewel will take on the color of whatever you place it on. If you put it on a red cloth, it will be red, on a blue cloth it will be blue, etc. A pearl is going to be it's own color no matter what background upon which it is placed.
In this chapter, Dogen is discussing the fundamental nature of reality. One of the most fundamental characteristics of reality is it's seamless integration with the environment. More than that, it IS the environment. Enlightenment occupies the very same space that you occupy. There is no form to it. It cannot be defined, it is analogous to some Christian metaphysical notions of the Holy Spirit. There is no "it" to point to. Searching for it is like a fish swimming around looking for water.
So, the fundamental line in this chapter is "The entire 10-direction world is one bright jewel." The 10 direction world just refers to the four directions: east, west, north, south, plus up and down, plus the four directions bisecting those six, sort of southeast up-ish, northwest down-ish, and so on. It is just a way to say in every direction.
So, the one bright jewel is "without form and it comprises everything in all directions" is one way of trying to talk about it.
Other renderings of the text, and you can use the google searches above to verify this, point to the notion that the one bright pearl is one's own buddha-nature, or soul, that is walking around experiencing all this, or in another way, we are all instances of the universe experiencing itself.
Kumbaya, my Lord, kumbaya...
That's not what Dogen is teaching here, in fact, he is teaching that this view, that there is a separately-existing individually-identifiable self experiencing all this wondrous stuff, including other separately-existing individually-identifiable selves, is precisely what keeps us from seeing the true nature of the world around us.
So, not a little ironically, this is like telling someone "if you want to remove the blindfold from your eyes, put this blindfold on."
Whew, I have a long way to go before I can really teach this stuff.
So, the jewel vs. pearl decision is extremely fundamental. It is in fact the difference between understanding what Dogen is pointing at and *completely* missing the point.
Or as Shohaku Okumura, the teacher, would say, with a wry smile "If you understood this, I'm sorry, that means you completely missed it."
This chapter of the "Treasury of the True Dharma Eye" is called, by this teacher, "One Bright Jewel." Most teachers call it "One Bright Pearl," including my own teacher. If you search Google, for example, for "one+bright+jewel" you find references to a line from the chapter circulated as a relatively famous zen saying, mostly.
If you search for "one+bright+pearl" you find a multitude of references to the chapter we are studying, including books and translations of it.
One Bright Pearl is wrong. Fundamentally wrong. This is not a minor distinction.
The word in Japanese, ju, is semantically ambiguous, it can be pearl or jewel, sort of like "stone" can mean a rock in the driveway or a $4M diamond.
There is a metaphor in zen and buddhist literature called the mani jewel. Here's a typical reference to it. In some stories it is figuratively described as a jewel one could place in muddy water and the water would instantly clear and be safe to drink.
The difference between a pearl and a clear colorless jewel, as the mani jewel is figuratively known, is that the jewel will take on the color of whatever you place it on. If you put it on a red cloth, it will be red, on a blue cloth it will be blue, etc. A pearl is going to be it's own color no matter what background upon which it is placed.
In this chapter, Dogen is discussing the fundamental nature of reality. One of the most fundamental characteristics of reality is it's seamless integration with the environment. More than that, it IS the environment. Enlightenment occupies the very same space that you occupy. There is no form to it. It cannot be defined, it is analogous to some Christian metaphysical notions of the Holy Spirit. There is no "it" to point to. Searching for it is like a fish swimming around looking for water.
So, the fundamental line in this chapter is "The entire 10-direction world is one bright jewel." The 10 direction world just refers to the four directions: east, west, north, south, plus up and down, plus the four directions bisecting those six, sort of southeast up-ish, northwest down-ish, and so on. It is just a way to say in every direction.
So, the one bright jewel is "without form and it comprises everything in all directions" is one way of trying to talk about it.
Other renderings of the text, and you can use the google searches above to verify this, point to the notion that the one bright pearl is one's own buddha-nature, or soul, that is walking around experiencing all this, or in another way, we are all instances of the universe experiencing itself.
Kumbaya, my Lord, kumbaya...
That's not what Dogen is teaching here, in fact, he is teaching that this view, that there is a separately-existing individually-identifiable self experiencing all this wondrous stuff, including other separately-existing individually-identifiable selves, is precisely what keeps us from seeing the true nature of the world around us.
So, not a little ironically, this is like telling someone "if you want to remove the blindfold from your eyes, put this blindfold on."
Whew, I have a long way to go before I can really teach this stuff.
So, the jewel vs. pearl decision is extremely fundamental. It is in fact the difference between understanding what Dogen is pointing at and *completely* missing the point.
Or as Shohaku Okumura, the teacher, would say, with a wry smile "If you understood this, I'm sorry, that means you completely missed it."
Saturday, May 2, 2009
Genzo-e retreat - Day 3 - Crap, everything I know is wrong.
I realized during today's lectures that almost everything I thought I knew about Dogen is wrong. The English translations are all wrong, and most of the commentary is wrong, even those originally written in Japanese.
Crap.
Well, it's a good thing because for the first time Dogen is making sense to me, and it fits with my experience in practice, which is a very, very good thing, but I have a lot to un-learn now, and in some ways I am embarrassed because I should have known. My leaning mind misled me.
Shohaku Okumura, the teacher I am visiting now, has shown me this. He continually apologizes for explaining almost every word in the text, but he's right. Dogen did not write casually, and almost every choice of word and phrasing has meaning in the context of other works of zen literature, and that connection is vital to seeing what he is getting at.
It like when one Star Wars geek says to another, otherwise out of the blue, "these are not the droids you are looking for." That utterance has nothing to do with droids, or with looking for something, it is a reference to the power of suggestion, particularly when practiced by a skillful and wise person of metaphysical influence.
Litterally every line of this text we are studying contains such a reference, equally as opaque to the novice student. Okumura has been peeling off the layers for me, and literally every line causes me to figuratively throw up my hands in exasperation at how far I have been off in my study all these long years. When I get home, I am going to throw out every Dogen text I own. They are worse than useless, they have been misleading me.
Dogen is a cool guy. What I've felt about him intuitively all these years is correct. Basically, Dogen and I agree on a fundamental aspect of the dharma that all Buddhists *should* accept but so many of them don't--there is no persistent, individual, separately-identifiable self, or any other such phenomena. This is entirely a creation of the human mind.
Many, actually most Buddhists get around this by discussing something they call "Buddha-nature." That's just another word for the soul. Each branch of Buddhism (including Zen) has some version of this, this is what reincarnates, and the concept of reincarnation turns a lot of people away from the Dharma, because when you read that into it, it just becomes another doctrine to believe, another framework in which to have faith, just another way to deny the facts of life. Buddhism is just another flavor of bullshit if you insist upon permanence in anything.
Dogen, as I do, insists upon an epistemology that rejects conjecture and belief.
Some of his writings, hell, all of his writings that I've known until last Thursday are construed to assert that Dogen, at best, simply leaves the question of persistence alone, and the assumption is that he just never worked it out and allowed it to be unsolved. That never sat right with me, and since I can't read his writings in their original form I just assumed that these people knew what they were talking about, and just as The Bible really never explains how a omnipotent omniscient God who loves justice can permit injustice, I just assumed that this question just has an answer too impenetrable to comprehend.
See? I'm buying the bullshit.
No, Rev Okumura reads Dogen in the original text, and he is intimately familiar with all other relevant zen literature, and he reads Chinese, and he teaches in English. Dogen writes in a dense and academic style in Japanese, he mixes in Chinese kanji when he doesn't have a word in Japanese that works, and he is relatively unconcerned with how easy it is for a student to understand, he is concerned with getting it right.
Imagine reading a text in 13th century English, with Greek and Latin words thrown in when a suitable English word wasn't available, by a scholar who didn't mind if people who weren't as well-read as he, who did not work as hard as he at this kind of scholarship, didn't understand. Imagine that same scholar dropping references to other contemporary and ancient works of literature like so many crossword puzzle clues in order to illuminate the connections between his works and other works. Further, imagine that person coming from a fundamentally contrarian standpoint with a personality very resonant with the TV character on "House."
Now, imagine you have been studying the works of this individual as rendered by the editorial staff at People magazine for years, and you suddenly began to study with someone who gets it.
You see? Everything I know is wrong.
I had a good day.
Crap.
Well, it's a good thing because for the first time Dogen is making sense to me, and it fits with my experience in practice, which is a very, very good thing, but I have a lot to un-learn now, and in some ways I am embarrassed because I should have known. My leaning mind misled me.
Shohaku Okumura, the teacher I am visiting now, has shown me this. He continually apologizes for explaining almost every word in the text, but he's right. Dogen did not write casually, and almost every choice of word and phrasing has meaning in the context of other works of zen literature, and that connection is vital to seeing what he is getting at.
It like when one Star Wars geek says to another, otherwise out of the blue, "these are not the droids you are looking for." That utterance has nothing to do with droids, or with looking for something, it is a reference to the power of suggestion, particularly when practiced by a skillful and wise person of metaphysical influence.
Litterally every line of this text we are studying contains such a reference, equally as opaque to the novice student. Okumura has been peeling off the layers for me, and literally every line causes me to figuratively throw up my hands in exasperation at how far I have been off in my study all these long years. When I get home, I am going to throw out every Dogen text I own. They are worse than useless, they have been misleading me.
Dogen is a cool guy. What I've felt about him intuitively all these years is correct. Basically, Dogen and I agree on a fundamental aspect of the dharma that all Buddhists *should* accept but so many of them don't--there is no persistent, individual, separately-identifiable self, or any other such phenomena. This is entirely a creation of the human mind.
Many, actually most Buddhists get around this by discussing something they call "Buddha-nature." That's just another word for the soul. Each branch of Buddhism (including Zen) has some version of this, this is what reincarnates, and the concept of reincarnation turns a lot of people away from the Dharma, because when you read that into it, it just becomes another doctrine to believe, another framework in which to have faith, just another way to deny the facts of life. Buddhism is just another flavor of bullshit if you insist upon permanence in anything.
Dogen, as I do, insists upon an epistemology that rejects conjecture and belief.
Some of his writings, hell, all of his writings that I've known until last Thursday are construed to assert that Dogen, at best, simply leaves the question of persistence alone, and the assumption is that he just never worked it out and allowed it to be unsolved. That never sat right with me, and since I can't read his writings in their original form I just assumed that these people knew what they were talking about, and just as The Bible really never explains how a omnipotent omniscient God who loves justice can permit injustice, I just assumed that this question just has an answer too impenetrable to comprehend.
See? I'm buying the bullshit.
No, Rev Okumura reads Dogen in the original text, and he is intimately familiar with all other relevant zen literature, and he reads Chinese, and he teaches in English. Dogen writes in a dense and academic style in Japanese, he mixes in Chinese kanji when he doesn't have a word in Japanese that works, and he is relatively unconcerned with how easy it is for a student to understand, he is concerned with getting it right.
Imagine reading a text in 13th century English, with Greek and Latin words thrown in when a suitable English word wasn't available, by a scholar who didn't mind if people who weren't as well-read as he, who did not work as hard as he at this kind of scholarship, didn't understand. Imagine that same scholar dropping references to other contemporary and ancient works of literature like so many crossword puzzle clues in order to illuminate the connections between his works and other works. Further, imagine that person coming from a fundamentally contrarian standpoint with a personality very resonant with the TV character on "House."
Now, imagine you have been studying the works of this individual as rendered by the editorial staff at People magazine for years, and you suddenly began to study with someone who gets it.
You see? Everything I know is wrong.
I had a good day.
Friday, May 1, 2009
Genzo-e retreat - Day 2 - Bodhidharma did not come from the East.
Bodhidharma brought Buddhism from India to China, which means he traveled west, or came from the east, to China.
But, he really didn't.
Thanks to this retreat, I realize why that nonsense is not nonsensical.
So, it turns out that I was manufacturing a lot of strife in my head. Surprise!
I went and discussed my situation with the practice director and I was told that I could do what I wanted to do. So, I did. I completed my work obligations, gave the cook my copy of "Real Food," went to the store to buy my sequestered fellow students some cheese and fruit, went to the lectures, and otherwise conducted zen practice on my own, sitting today in my motel room because it was raining outside.
Otherwise, I enjoyed some unanticipated down-time, which was what I really needed.
This gave me a chance to see a little bit of Bloomington, something I didn't think I was going to have a chance to do. It is a pretty idyllic little college town--clean, homogeneous, seemingly untouched by the economic downturn, just as dryer-fresh as the college kids running around everywhere. There seems to be a lot of upper-middle-class money here. Lots of kids driving shiny new cars. Maybe that's who can afford to go to college these days, I don't know.
Unfortunately, the grocery stores suck, there's very little real food, and little in the way of indigenous culture or cuisine. It seems like you go to college here and don't stick around for much else. All of my previous experience with Bloomington was from the movie "Breaking Away" and it looks the same. The movie was released 30 years ago.
On the plus side, I haven't seen any sneezing pigs, so I think I am out of the way of H1N1 for the moment. Of course, that's a delusion, but at least I know that.
Speaking of knowing delusions, my traveling companion, the Japanese Zen Buddhist priest who is attending the retreat with me told me about a fight in the zendo today I *just* missed (it happened right after I left), lest you think that zen practice makes people all calm and tolerant.
It was, ostensibly, over black pepper.
First a little background for those who don't know my religious stuff. I refer to myself as a student of the teachings of the awakened (I don't like using foreign names when there are perfectly good English words).
Other people call me a Buddhist. I don't object to that, I just hope I don't think of myself that way. But, to explain something, I have to go ahead and say that one view of what I do is to say that I am a Soto Zen Buddhist practicing in the American lineage of Dainin Katagiri. I have not taken Jukai, which is sort of like Baptism for Christians, and I won't until there's a reason to. Again, I resist all of this accoutrement and these titles, like the wearing of robes at temple and such, because I want to encourage myself to hold a wholesome view of myself. That is, I diligently seek to preserve the view that I am part of things around me, not separate.
So, Soto Zen is distinguished by the unique and contrarian views of it's founder (though I am sure he intended to do no such thing) Eihei Dogen, who lived from 1200 to 1253 in Japan and China. The teacher I am studying with for a few days is one of the world's greatest living scholars on Dogen, certainly the greatest one to which I have access.
Dogen wrote an essay called, no joke, "Fukanzazengi," which translates to "Instructions for sitting meditation," more or less. That is certainly what it is. It is a short text and it is what I rely upon when I am trying to resolve a question about practice for myself. There are as many English translations for this text as there are zen translators interested enough to undertake it. You could say it is somewhat analogous to the Sermon on the Mount for Christians. That is, it is an important text, it deserves respect and study, but taking any one of those translations absolutely literally is going to make you look silly to anyone but the most ardent of self-deluded pious pricks.
There are such people in Zen just as there are bible-thumping anti-intellectual zealots in evangelical Christianity who think the King James translation of the Bible is modern literal truth. No religion has a monopoly on insipid and blind religiosity. No religion is exempt from the siren call of certainty.
Ok, all of that was to prepare you to understand the screaming match today between two of the resident students at this zendo.
Dogen mentions in the Fukanzazengi that one should be moderate in drinking and eating when sitting zazen, and some translations render that as "no stimulating food or drink."
Apparently some people consider black pepper to be such a stimulant. Equally apparent is that the cook does not. Further, it is apparent that those who hold a different view than the cook's think the prohibition is plain in the Fukanzazengi. This led to the screaming match in the zen center.
Hilarious. Zen and the Art of Screaming About Seasoning. Fortunately no one brought salt into the discussion. I didn't notice any of that on the food either, though I do see some in the kitchen. Meals are taken in a very formal ritualized style called Oryoki. Usually (as in at other zen centers where I have practiced) there is a salt and sesame mixture called Gomashio available at meals, using it is a part of the ritual, but this place serves ground black sesame seeds instead, which aren't salty at all. Salt may seduce us into self-delusion, I guess, I don't know (I'm eating on my own now).
Of course, the argument wasn't about black pepper at all. Who knows what the real issue is, but it does reveal that communal living can drive otherwise seemingly sane people to ridiculous extremes, even when they have devoted themselves to eschewing any extremes. So, please divest yourself of the conventional notions of zen practice being a reliable way to inner peace.
On the other hand, that is exactly what it is. See?
If contradictions seem to abound, blame your mind, that's what I do.
Bodhidharma, when he arrived in China, having traveled from india (by foot), did not come from the East.
Speaking of inner peace, time for bed. Be well. I am.
But, he really didn't.
Thanks to this retreat, I realize why that nonsense is not nonsensical.
So, it turns out that I was manufacturing a lot of strife in my head. Surprise!
I went and discussed my situation with the practice director and I was told that I could do what I wanted to do. So, I did. I completed my work obligations, gave the cook my copy of "Real Food," went to the store to buy my sequestered fellow students some cheese and fruit, went to the lectures, and otherwise conducted zen practice on my own, sitting today in my motel room because it was raining outside.
Otherwise, I enjoyed some unanticipated down-time, which was what I really needed.
This gave me a chance to see a little bit of Bloomington, something I didn't think I was going to have a chance to do. It is a pretty idyllic little college town--clean, homogeneous, seemingly untouched by the economic downturn, just as dryer-fresh as the college kids running around everywhere. There seems to be a lot of upper-middle-class money here. Lots of kids driving shiny new cars. Maybe that's who can afford to go to college these days, I don't know.
Unfortunately, the grocery stores suck, there's very little real food, and little in the way of indigenous culture or cuisine. It seems like you go to college here and don't stick around for much else. All of my previous experience with Bloomington was from the movie "Breaking Away" and it looks the same. The movie was released 30 years ago.
On the plus side, I haven't seen any sneezing pigs, so I think I am out of the way of H1N1 for the moment. Of course, that's a delusion, but at least I know that.
Speaking of knowing delusions, my traveling companion, the Japanese Zen Buddhist priest who is attending the retreat with me told me about a fight in the zendo today I *just* missed (it happened right after I left), lest you think that zen practice makes people all calm and tolerant.
It was, ostensibly, over black pepper.
First a little background for those who don't know my religious stuff. I refer to myself as a student of the teachings of the awakened (I don't like using foreign names when there are perfectly good English words).
Other people call me a Buddhist. I don't object to that, I just hope I don't think of myself that way. But, to explain something, I have to go ahead and say that one view of what I do is to say that I am a Soto Zen Buddhist practicing in the American lineage of Dainin Katagiri. I have not taken Jukai, which is sort of like Baptism for Christians, and I won't until there's a reason to. Again, I resist all of this accoutrement and these titles, like the wearing of robes at temple and such, because I want to encourage myself to hold a wholesome view of myself. That is, I diligently seek to preserve the view that I am part of things around me, not separate.
So, Soto Zen is distinguished by the unique and contrarian views of it's founder (though I am sure he intended to do no such thing) Eihei Dogen, who lived from 1200 to 1253 in Japan and China. The teacher I am studying with for a few days is one of the world's greatest living scholars on Dogen, certainly the greatest one to which I have access.
Dogen wrote an essay called, no joke, "Fukanzazengi," which translates to "Instructions for sitting meditation," more or less. That is certainly what it is. It is a short text and it is what I rely upon when I am trying to resolve a question about practice for myself. There are as many English translations for this text as there are zen translators interested enough to undertake it. You could say it is somewhat analogous to the Sermon on the Mount for Christians. That is, it is an important text, it deserves respect and study, but taking any one of those translations absolutely literally is going to make you look silly to anyone but the most ardent of self-deluded pious pricks.
There are such people in Zen just as there are bible-thumping anti-intellectual zealots in evangelical Christianity who think the King James translation of the Bible is modern literal truth. No religion has a monopoly on insipid and blind religiosity. No religion is exempt from the siren call of certainty.
Ok, all of that was to prepare you to understand the screaming match today between two of the resident students at this zendo.
Dogen mentions in the Fukanzazengi that one should be moderate in drinking and eating when sitting zazen, and some translations render that as "no stimulating food or drink."
Apparently some people consider black pepper to be such a stimulant. Equally apparent is that the cook does not. Further, it is apparent that those who hold a different view than the cook's think the prohibition is plain in the Fukanzazengi. This led to the screaming match in the zen center.
Hilarious. Zen and the Art of Screaming About Seasoning. Fortunately no one brought salt into the discussion. I didn't notice any of that on the food either, though I do see some in the kitchen. Meals are taken in a very formal ritualized style called Oryoki. Usually (as in at other zen centers where I have practiced) there is a salt and sesame mixture called Gomashio available at meals, using it is a part of the ritual, but this place serves ground black sesame seeds instead, which aren't salty at all. Salt may seduce us into self-delusion, I guess, I don't know (I'm eating on my own now).
Of course, the argument wasn't about black pepper at all. Who knows what the real issue is, but it does reveal that communal living can drive otherwise seemingly sane people to ridiculous extremes, even when they have devoted themselves to eschewing any extremes. So, please divest yourself of the conventional notions of zen practice being a reliable way to inner peace.
On the other hand, that is exactly what it is. See?
If contradictions seem to abound, blame your mind, that's what I do.
Bodhidharma, when he arrived in China, having traveled from india (by foot), did not come from the East.
Speaking of inner peace, time for bed. Be well. I am.
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