Who am I? Who am I not?

Detachment -- it's a good practice.

I don't think, however, that it's possible to live a full life as a human being if a person limits themselves to a detached view. So in that very human spirit, I have several things I feel the need to say. The reason I'm saying them now is because I think that in the years since I started this blog I've increasingly forced myself (or, worse yet, been advised) to deal with my own reactions and responses using zazen --specifically, using emptiness as a sink for my own reactions to difficult situations and innuendo resulting from those situations. That well-spring of emptiness is without limit. But resorting to it too often chokes off life.

Asceticism isn't always bad. In fact, a balance of asceticism and life is the Way that the Buddha taught. It's also similar to what I think Nishijima was trying to express with his autonomic nervous theory of zazen -- even though I think his expression was tainted by his cultural heritage, the times and his admiration for science. It's also what I think Aśvaghoṣa was expressing in the poem Saundara-nanda -- even though I think that expression was tainted by his cultural heritage, the times and sexism. Each person is a different and unique place in their journey, so that appropriate balance between acesticism and life is going to be different for each person.

***

Returning to the reason for this post:

 - During the last few months, I've felt that I've been increasingly asked to shoulder the responsibility for and take the blame for the actions (or, in actuality, non-actions) of people I've "known" since the start of this blog and before. (I'm using the word know in the conventional sense, although how conventional knowing can be in cyberspace I'm not sure.)

 - It's interesting that I feel I'm having to shoulder the blame in spite of the fact that, in many ways, I feel isolated and invisible due to the absence of direct interactions in cyberspace, not to mention real life. What do I mean by "shoulder the blame?" I mean that, with time, I've felt that my normal modes of self-expression have been threatened, misunderstood and cut-off. What modes of expression have I lost? (a) my ability to directly interact with friends due to the indirect judgments I see, mainly because I don't want negative judgements to spread to my friends, (b) my poetry - for more than one reason I have, to a large extent, cut myself off from my muses and limited my writing, (c) Rumi quotes, (d) because of my poetry, in the past I've sensed that some people have read more into my Shobogenzo posts than was actually there. Does the fact that I write poetry mean I can't study the Shobogenzo or share what I learn from that?, and finally, most recently, (e) I see my choices in music being questioned. Why have I cut myself off or limited myself from these modes expression? Because it has become apparent that some people are unable to appropriately classify and contain their reactions and responses. I can't say I consistently feel threatened and negatively judged either, in some cases I've felt flattered, but it's possible that I've misjudged the intent behind that flattery.

 - I'll shoulder the responsibility for my own actions, but I'd rather not be judged and labeled for the actions and non-actions of others just because I trust those individuals enough that I can find the compassion not to judge them, even though I don't know the exact reasons for their behavior. I'd also prefer not to be teased or judged on the basis of reactions of people who are unable to appropriately contain their reactions and responses.

 - I'm not a licensed psychotherapist, but have an academic background in psychology and feel at least as qualified, if not more so, to recognize, deal with, as well as speak out in cases of potential abuse, such as the Sasaki case, than some of the other folks I've heard speak out.

- As I've struggled to cope with my own reactions to what I see and my own history and experience, some of that expression has been in the form of poetry. As I became aware of that, I've made an effort to put those expressions of my experience in the appropriate context or environment. Most artists know that art often surprises the artist by allowing an escape valve for current emotions or repressed emotions resulting from past experiences.

- I know that my own reactions and responses on-line depend on context and the assumptions I make about the person I'm talking to, either directly or indirectly. I am aware that my own behavior may be confusing and difficult to classify, with experience ranging from the punk scene and other types of music, to poetry and, finally, academics. Even though I idealistically (and perhaps naively) prefer the compassionate response, the in-your-face confrontational response exists in my repertoire as well, especially when I feel I may have been insulted. My choice of response in any given instance is going to depend on my view of the person I'm interacting with, my sense of the situation and the context.

- Finally, and perhaps most importantly, as a result of the Sasaki case and reactions to it, here's my own statement regarding zazen:

I just sit. That's it. In cases where I've volunteered to sit with friends on-line, I've done so to offer support. That's all. I'm encouraged to see groups like the Online Meditation Crew and Treeleaf Sangha that exist to support the sitting practices of people who are removed from local Sanghas in real life.

***

In summary, what I can say about the last three years of my life is that I've been increasingly forced to take an ascetic approach and use zazen as a sink or escape from the difficulties and isolation I'm facing. Somehow that needs to stop. At the same time, I have to admit that precisely because I've relied on an ascetic approach and on zazen to compensate for some very difficult and challenging experiences, I'm not ready to make any major decisions. Given the numerous practical constraints and limitations on my life at this time I'm not exactly sure what the solution is, but I firmly believe the solution for myself and me is not something I'll find with more sitting. I'll still always love to sit.

Sometimes I am not a Buddhist and I still have a Distaste for Religion

What I’m going to say next relates a little to Uchiyama’s (and, therefore, possibly Okumura’s) thinking and, if I hadn’t run short of time yesterday, would have been part of the last post: 

We can think of any role we have in life (job, marriage, parenting, whatever) as a cloud. [In this analogy, different clouds are made up of different elements and, as a result, have different properties in regard to weights, responsibilities, indirect costs, etc. At any given moment in time, different clouds can overlap.] Buddhism and, by extension, Zen is a cloud too. And both are extensions of what the Buddha taught. I think a person is fine walking through the cloud that is Buddhism, Zen or what the Buddha taught as long as he or she doesn’t try to grasp onto the cloud in order to define themselves. When we grasp onto the cloud looking for refuge or to define ourselves, especially in a way that tries to define the borders of the cloud itself, we run into trouble. We lose whatever our original features are. That effect can last only moments or, in some cases, years. In the latter case, one day we wake up and find ourselves materialized into a brick wall that can be very difficult to extract ourselves from.

I have a couple of reasons I’ll continue to say I’m Buddhist and Zen, at least for the time being. The first reason is very practical in that my life situation appears to require it at the moment. The second is that I’d like for Buddhism, Zen and what the Buddha taught to continue to exist as part of the same cloud.

When a person strongly defines themselves as anti-Buddhist, it creates two problems. The first problem is at the level of the individual, namely that the anti-Buddhism cloud can be every bit as much of a trap as the Buddhism cloud is. It can cause a person to lose their original features. The second problem relates to the role of what the Buddha taught in society, humanity, and the universe (whether the universe was/is created by the mind, God, the Big Bang, or as part of a computer simulation -- like in the Matrix). Given the tendency of humans to allow will-power, as opposed to wisdom-power, to run the show, I predict that individuals like you, me, and people like Brad Warner, are more effective within the Buddhism cloud than outside it – at least if we don’t allow it to define us too tightly. Otherwise, at some point in the future, Buddhism may become a cloud so dense, or a bigger more evil monster, that it is capable of destroying what the Buddha taught entirely. And that would be a shame.

The reaction of “Buddhism” against someone who is strongly anti-Buddhist, more often than not, is to cause the cloud that is Buddhism to strengthen it’s borders and definition in opposition. That, in turn, causes Buddhism to become a cloud made of a heavier substance and puts more people within it at risk. While I’m permitted, I’d rather be someone within the cloud of Buddhism working to keep the borders and definitions of that cloud soft and flexible -- which I think is most in accord with not doing wrong and what the Buddha taught. 

***

As a footnote, if I comment on this post, my comment would be: What a wonderful piece of idealistic thinking! 

That doesn't mean it isn't true. Only that it, like everything else, is a partial truth. At different points in our life, each one of us is forced to take a stance on some issues. 

My Response to Sweeping Zen

I was going to call this post something along the lines of "I am not a Buddhist and I have a distaste for religion." I'm hoping that's going a bit too far.

The post was to be a lot like a comment I just posted to Brad Warner's Facebook page:

People are easily drawn into emotionally-charged scenarios. I think each person has baggage from their past that acts like a magnet to draw them in and as a lens to distort their view of what’s happening. One of the things Buddha taught is step free of those distortions, at least momentarily, so that distortions are less liable to negatively affect actions. It’s called detachment.

It’s not that practitioners have a license to be amoral. It’s just that the motivation for action in any instance is different. It’s “not doing wrong,” followed by “good doing”, as opposed to “doing good”. What Dogen meant by “doing good” is action motivated by societal rules and expectations and it can be the source of a lot of harm. Not doing wrong is independent of those rules. It’s not amoral, it’s a higher morality dependent on the specific circumstances. Ideally, it is a fluid stance from moment-to-moment. In any situation, only the people directly involved have the slightest chance of knowing what that might be.

Tebbe is over-reacting for reasons only he has the foggiest notion of understanding. It’s not my business to know why. My suggestion to him is that he spend some time on a zafu to investigate the root cause. The Sasaki case also is none of my business since I, myself, have no way of knowing anything. I refuse to take second and third hand reactionary statements as truth. What is my business, however, and only to the extent I can remain detached so that it doesn’t become too emotionally disturbing and interfere with living life, is watching the reactions around the blogosphere. In that sense, Tebbe’s reporting appears to me to be not only inflammatory, but also detrimental to any successful resolution of the case. It sets off other people’s triggers and emotional alarms. It gets more difficult and more difficult when people on the outside with an inability to know, i.e. not directly involved, start forming their own judgments, especially when such judgments are based on their fears, own unrelated past experiences and agendas. I, for the time being, have removed Sweeping Zen off my reading list.

I hope Brad Warner doesn’t sell his robes on eBay, either for the rent money or out of disgust at the limitations on life the powers that be try to throw on him. As I’ve said before, the inclusion of of Brad’s personal life in the reporting on the Sasaki case is divisive and a person has to wonder about the agenda of anyone acting in such a fashion. In my opinion, he’s one of the few examples of someone living zen instead of preaching it, and I think “Buddhism”-- for lack of a better term, would suffer at the loss.

By the way, Jordan Fountain wrote a great post on the role of morality in Zen awhile back: http://asuradharma.blogspot.com/2012/07/morals-have-no-zen.html

Common Sense when Looking for Buddha Dharma and Sangha

Religions have made me uncomfortable since my mid-teens. Although I can cite a number of reasons, the important one for this post is that I was disillusioned after repeatedly observing others not living up to the ideal, i.e. not practicing what they preached.

What bothered me most was that the hypocrisy I observed extended beyond the binge-drinking and affairs that occur to, more importantly, a failure to maintain (or at least return to) attitudes of basic loving-kindness, open-mindedness, and forgiveness. I decided that friends outside these groups were being more honest and quit "religion." At the time, I thought I was quitting never to return. Who or what "God" was and ever shall be grew increasingly vague as I grew older.

It took me a long time to accept and admit that I was "Buddhist" in addition to being a meditator. (The start of this blog marks that decison.) When I did, given my prior experience, I acknowledged that:

(1) I did not expect any Buddhist to be anything more than a human being with flaws, even teachers. Nor did I expect perfection out of an entire community. I accepted that any Sangha I might find was not a "safe haven" or shield.

(2) I accepted that my practice was stagnating on its own. I wanted the support (and challenges) for my individual practice that interacting with a community or Sangha provides.

(3) I accepted that if I separate myself from religion or Buddhism, isn’t what I leave worse off for my absence? Why should I separate myself from the very people holding values most similar to my own?

I think a lot of people look to Sangha or similar communities for the "safe haven" or "shield" they appear to represent, as opposed to the experiential challenges. One of the things a person eventually learns with continued practice is that the safe haven exists inside, within each individual, not outside. This safe haven provides the ground or balance point from which each of us can extend trust outwards to include others, situations and circumstances as they arise allowing for all possibilities, even those we might fail to anticipate.

When a person is born into the world, each of us is gifted with "the eternal, joyous, selfless and pure" along with the inheritance of samsara. I consider the eternal, joyous, selfless and pure to be at least one definition of the Buddha-dharma, i.e. what the Buddha taught. In my view, every person has a responsibility to honor and protect what is eternal, joyous, selfless and pure within themselves. This is the source of the sincerity and wisdom-power that motivates practice, including zazen. This is also the source of kindness and compassion towards others. One of the things that seems true for me is that when I sit I tap into the "What" that is eternal, joyous, selfless and pure and uncontaminated by views. Sitting helps me be aware of It, even if I can't put what It is into words.

In my opinion, the most important question for any person to ask regarding their own practice is:

(4) Is what I am doing or not doing encouraging the growth of the safe haven* within, i.e. that which is eternally joyous, selfless and pure? 

As a member of a Sangha or monastery, the question also can be extended:

(4b) To question our own role in any community we may be a part of. For example, by rephrasing the question as: Is what I am doing encouraging the growth of the safe haven within other individuals in the community? 
(4c) To question the behavior of teachers in a community. Is what the teacher is doing encouraging the growth of the safe haven within myself?

In this regard, it's important to recognize that a good teacher will encourage the growth of the safe haven within a student not by pampering it, but rather by challenging it. A good teacher will challenge and thereby strengthen the safe haven of a student without seriously damaging it by going too far. How do a teacher or student know what "too far" is? I think it's the responsibility of a formally accepted teacher to be aware of and sensitive to where the student is in his or her practice, specifically what stressors and resources, mental and physical, exist for the student. I think that if a student is made aware of the three points mentioned above, it is also the responsibility of the student to question any situation they encounter as to whether that which is eternally joyous, selfless and pure is being expanded on by their experience and to challenge the teacher or situation if their own answer to that question is not clear.


*The commonly used term is refuge.

Reflections: The Art of Disappearing & Reappearing (III) ... and Notes on Sangha

When any person who has been sitting for awhile has the realization that everything in the Universe is interconnected by the same awareness (e.g., see An Exercise in Awareness), an almost simultaneous realization is that our karmic inheritance, i.e., who and where we are as a human being in relation to the rest of the Universe is a position in Indra's Net each person has a right, even a responsibility, to defend.

What has been more difficult, at least for me, is learning how to integrate those two realizations in a way that allows me to live and act. To me, God is that shared awareness and that awareness allows me to act from kindness, not only towards myself, but also towards others -- even as I realize that I can never accurately anticipate or know exactly where I or any other individual may be acting from. This dilemma is echoed in the impossibility of the Four Vows.

When I come back to the question of "who I am" that has run through the last couple of posts, and when I ask myself why I sit every day, one answer that resonates with certainty is that I believe in kindness, not hatred and vengeance. Isn't zazen, the ultimate realization of kindness to myself? And what a pity if I can't incorporate that lesson into life.

Image from Wikipedia

An interesting conversation I had with another Sangha member after returning from my precepts ceremony concerned her own reticence to take the precepts. She, having been a leader in another religious organization for many years had grown disgusted with the hypocrisy she observed, left, and took up Zen. My answer was to ask her, why she expected any person to be less than a human being with flaws, much less an entire community?

As human beings I think we each have a habit of trusting the organizations we belong to -- and that's true especially for religious communities, whether Christian or Buddhist. The codes of conduct, the ten commandments, the precepts, the robes and rituals provide a false sense of security and led us to expect perfection -- and, while it's not an excuse, no one is perfect. No one.

In terms of religion, I think that if we become a member of a monastery, we typically do so not only as a support for our individual practice, but also in hopes of finding a "safe haven" or shield from the darker side in each human being. Unfortunately, that "safe haven" doesn't exist. Learning to recognize that that darker side is present in every being, including ourselves, is part of how true compassion arises. In fact, while I believe codes of conduct are necessary, they can become the essence of what Ajahn Brahm calls "will power" and asceticism. Asceticism teaches separation and has resulted in some of the worst atrocities known to man. It teaches the expectation of perfection in ourselves and in others.



A story that recently appeared in the news, is that of Sasaki Roshi at Mount Baldy with what appears to be as yet unsubstantiated allegations of sexual abuse. I have no doubt that horrific cases of sexual abuse exist, but from what I have read to date, I'm not convinced it occurred at Mount Baldy. Instead, it could be a monastery with emphasis on a kind and compassionate interactions, or monastery run by a man with a disposition to having affairs. At the moment, in the absence of incontrovertible evidence, what has me more horrified is the almost mob mentality wishing to condemn -- which seems to be another case of fear getting the better of people who should know better.

In my opinion, the mob mentality that is the typical response to any reports of wrong doing is not a constructive response. For one thing, it decreases the likelihood that what actually happened will come to light and it causes people to distort their previous perception of what occurred, both in positive and negative ways. The sensationalism that often goes hand-in-hand with today's media, and the mob mentality that results, harms everyone by decreasing the willingness of anyone suspecting abuse to come forward, either with reports or a questioning attitude due to the shame and damage to self-image and the lives of all persons involved, not to mention Buddhism. The sensationalism of today's media, in my opinion, threatens the free speech of the individual.

Will more rigorous codes of conduct and restrictive conditions reduce the occurence of sexual abuse in monasteries or elsewhere? Not likely, since, in my opinion, they're likely to reinforce ascetic practice. In fact, it's entirely possible that more rigor and restrictiveness would increase the occurence of sexual abuse by increasing asceticism and by increasing the false sense of security codes provide.

I'm personally of the view that any environment that encourages people to let down their normal protective shield, especially those that emphasize kindness and compassion, run the risk of interpersonal entanglements and to expect otherwise is ignorance. Should the interactions of equals studying the Buddha-dharma be restricted equally when they occur in every day life versus the monastic setting? Every person has a responsibility to themselves to question whether how they are being treated is acceptable in any given context. It seems obvious to me that the expectations of acceptable behavior when eating dinner at a restaurant with friends are likely to be different from those a person might have when throwing a party or going to a topless bar. In addition, the same activities may carry different expectations in different cultures. Life in a monastery should be subject to the same personal scrutiny.




Of my friends in the Dharma, I have one question:

Is our experience of zazen one that we use to hide from life and teach ourselves separation? I know that's not why I'm sitting.

Reflections: The Art of Disappearing... & Reappearing (II)

What is anuttara samyaksaṃbodhi, i.e. perfect enlightenment?

Lately, I've been asking a different question, namely: What is the way? The way is often summarized by the words "Just sit." Just sitting means just to sit regularly, preferably every day, and, for the majority of people, the mind gradually unlearns the bad habits of a lifetime and begins to appreciate the peace and ease that can be found in each moment, regardless of circumstances. It's a miracle of kindness, because it happens all by itself. A person has to put in the time and that's it. It's easy to miss the simplicity and essence of the meaning of "just sitting" when reading the Shobogenzo or other sutras. Which is why I appreciated Ajahn Brahm's The Art of Disappearing so much. He gave me a fresh perspective on many of the things I learned in the early days, now, at a time when it was good for me to see them.

Beyond that, the way in real life is different for each person, because each person is a unique individual and each person's circumstances are unique as well.

My own personal and preferred description of enlightenment these days (though partial and, therefore, in error), is when the peace and ease of sitting get up off the mat. With time, I think that more awareness gets up and comes along too. Walking meditation, chanting and the rituals in whatever tradition are good practices because they teach the transition. Each of these practices is subtly directing mind. Each activity can be a sort of meditation in and of itself. The eight-fold path and mindfulness strategies, such as dropping off views, also can be thought of as enabling strategies because they also teach the transition.

Siddhartha Gautama spent roughly six years as an ascetic before deciding that asceticism was not the way. I used to think of asceticism in those classical terms. One of Ajahn's Brahm's insights is that any form of goal-oriented behavior easily reverts us back down the ascetic path. The mind likes to default back to it's habitual way of functioning. Something is fundamentally wrong when sitting, ritual or various mindfulness strategies become an ascetic practice. It prevents the awareness, peace and ease of sitting from diffusing through the rest of our lives. When practice is pushed, the path of regress that is supposed to occur naturally is inhibited. The path of regress, the way, in a nutshell, is the path of gradually being comfortable with less and enjoying what is or can be present in each moment if we only know how to find it.

Not everyone choses to live in conditions as austere as those Siddhartha Gautama or even Ajahn Brahm himself endured. Real existential torment can result for the average practitioner when "just sitting" or any of the above other practices is relied on as an escape rather than facing changes that need to be made in life. It turns "wisdom-power" of the way back into "will-power." "Will-power" is indicative of holding onto to a view or perspective of how things should be. Defaulting to "will-power" instead of "wisdom power" is an error that occurs in monasteries as well.

***

I'm writing this post on a day when fighting has, again, broken out in Israel. And even though I very much want peace in Israel, the question I find myself asking of my own practice is how is it possible to live life without views? When does dropping off views result in injury, not only to myself but those around me? The answer is dependent on context and the circumstances of others and while I can aim for it, it's impossible to know. Sometimes metta may be the only option. I'm in the process of writing my own simple version of the metta sutta. ... it's the best I can do from here.

Reflections: The Art of Disappearing... & Reappearing (I)

When I first saw the title of Ajahn Brahm's book The Art of Disappearing, I rolled my eyes in a mild reaction of disbelief, although I'm not sure whether I was rolling my eyes at myself or whoever came up with the title. (Since it was not Ajahn Brahm who wrote the Preface, maybe it was not not Ajahn Brahm or an editor of sorts.) The reason for my reaction is that in my experience "disappearing" or "dropping off", while it becomes easy enough at any given instant with practice, has unpredictable and uncontrollable effects that create not "art" per se, but messes in my life -- like my mom's house and it's effect (see the previous post).

Then I thought of the chaos and confusion of our current times and allowed that not only "disappearing", but the resulting mess might be viewed as art, like in the Jackson Pollock painting below:

From http://www.guggenheim.org

When I started meditating, I know I was drawn in because of the peace and simplicity I experienced at times as a result. I'm not sure exactly when, but at some point, I began to develop the expectation that if I learned and applied what the Buddha taught, my life would start feeling more peaceful as well. More like this Rothko painting:

From WikiPaintings

Sources of discomfort, suffering and pain arise not only (a) from the gap between reality as it is and what I want or expected it to be, but also (b) from a reluctance to recognize, accept and "drop off" views I hold of myself, the nature of the mind, others and life -- each of which contributes to my reality.

I've grown to suspect that most people who chose a monastic life style, like Ajahn Brahm, initially chose it hoping for a peaceful and beautiful life like depicted in the above Rothko. What they sacrifice or exchange is their freedom of expression and diversity of experience. And, since a person still has to retrain the mind, the challenges are similar whether inside a monastery or not.

Right now I'm experiencing that self, the nature of the mind, others and life is more like the Pollock painting and that once I accept that, I can "drop" into the detail of each moment and maintain the peace, stability and simplicity that is present in the Rothko... at least occasionally. It's relinquishing control, but with the effect of allowing original features to appear.

Reflections: Practice-Experience & the Ten Thousand Things

One of the thoughts that's visited me time-to-time over the last week is that it's been nearly four years since the beginning of my online presence and nearly three years since the start of this blog.

Both of those decisions were motivated by a search for Sangha. (By Sangha I'm referring to friends that would be supportive of my efforts to practice and increase my understanding of what the Buddha taught). The start of this blog also marked my decision to get a divorce.

To quote from that first post: "At this particular moment, I am enjoying the not knowing, a sense of hope..."

What was I hoping for? More rewarding connection with other human beings, with a preference for people interested in what the Buddha taught because that was the direction I found most personally rewarding. The opportunity to feel fulfilled at least occasionally.

~ ~ ~

As I sit back and review the last four years, I see both positive and negative outcomes:

On the positive side: my on-line Sangha, my brief experiences at Antaiji and Sanshin, a living arrangement that allows more time for studies of the Shobogenzo and provides a quiet place to sit, study and sleep, at least two meals per day, and a local Sangha which although small, without a teacher and not very interactive, does provide me with company during zazen.

On the negative side, my actual interactive contact with people in real life is more minimal than ever in my life before. In fact, it's almost non-existent. One of the negative things I find myself saying to myself sometimes is: Most people in prisons and even the homeless have more conversations in a day than I do.

In short, I seem to have gone backwards in terms of what I was hoping for at the time I wrote my first post. I'm trapped in my circumstances for an unknown amount of time. I'm still trapped in the mortgage I share with my ex and, as a result, my current position. More recently, the double whammy of my mother's recent passing and dealing with what she left behind feels like more than I can stand.

~ ~ ~

For the past few months, Bodhidharma's encounter with Emperor Wu has run through my mind repeatedly:

Emperor Wu: "...Who is standing before me?"

Bodhidharma: "I know not..."

As I've practiced, one of the things I've learned is to "drop off" my views of who I am. In theory, by dropping off views of self, a person lives a more peaceful, richer and fuller life -- although not necessarily "happier" in the typical definition of happiness -- and is actualized by the ten thousand things. In the spirit of letting the ten thousand things provide the answer to the question of who I am,

As an example, the livingroom. (I'm going to delete this picture.)

I am encountering walls of resentment in myself as karma (or whatever) continues, without relief, to hit me over the head with answers like my mother's house and stalling even small efforts to get myself out isolation and interacting with people. This is all I am? 

The resentment I'm feeling is due to the fact that the above is not what I chose. I chose getting away from being a slave to inanimate objects and increasing interactions with sentient beings. 

~ ~ ~

Recently, rather than reading Dogen, I've been returning to some of Theravada literature as well as listening to some Dharma talks. This started when my friends at Amazon recommended The Art of Disappearing by Ajahn Brahm, which, by the way, may be one of the best and most straight-forward guides to meditation and enlightenment around (if enlightenment exists). To quote from the Preface: "Do not read this book if you want to be a somebody. It will make you a nobody." The Preface was signed "Not really Ajahn Brahm"... Because this post is getting long, I intend to write more in follow-up, including what I've gathered from Ajahn Brahm in regard to the issue I've mentioned, the resentment I'm feeling, as well as offer a few more comments about his book.

An Old Favorite Poem: Heroic Simile

by Robert Hass
When the swordsman fell in Kurosawa's Seven Samurai in the gray rain, in Cinemascope and the Tokugawa dynasty, he fell straight as a pine, he fell as Ajax fell in Homer in chanted dactyls and the tree was so huge the woodsman returned for two days to that lucky place before he was done with the sawing and on the third day he brought his uncle. They stacked logs in the resinous air, hacking the small limbs off, tying those bundles separately. The slabs near the root were quartered and still they were awkwardly large; the logs from midtree they halved: ten bundles and four great piles of fragrant wood, moons and quarter moons and half moons ridged by the saw's tooth. The woodsman and the old man his uncle are standing in midforest on a floor of pine silt and spring mud. They have stopped working because they are tired and because I have imagined no pack animal or primitive wagon. They are too canny to call in neighbors and come home with a few logs after three days' work. They are waiting for me to do something or for the overseer of the Great Lord to come and arrest them. How patient they are! The old man smokes a pipe and spits. The young man is thinking he would be rich if he were already rich and had a mule. Ten days of hauling and on the seventh day they'll probably be caught, go home empty-handed or worse. I don't know whether they're Japanese or Mycenaean and there's nothing I can do. The path from here to that village is not translated. A hero, dying, gives off stillness to the air. A man and a woman walk from the movies to the house in the silence of separate fidelities. There are limits to imagination.

(from www.poets.org)

Shobogenzo Ch21: Kankin - Reading and Experiencing Sutras

A sutra is all the different threads of life coming together to create the present moment of "me". Another sutra is all the different threads of life coming together to create the present moment of "you". Each is unique in its perspective, each expresses its own truth, and yet each shares the same awareness. 

The above is also true for the written works traditionally referred to as sutras. All the different threads of life came together to inspire someone to write them. To read, recite and experience them. In each distinct instance -- in writing, reading, and experiencing -- they express truths about life.

All the sutras in the universe are teaching the same lesson through different lenses. All the sutras are pointing to the same thing: 

Just this. Life in the present moment. 

And life in the present moment can include reading a sutra. Reading a sutra is as much of an action as sitting is. 

 

Some people will say that the Buddha's truth can't be transmitted by reading sutras. Those people are probably thinking of “reading” as intellectual processing the way one might process material in a textbook. But in Kankin Dogen presents as many perspectives on "reading" and "sutras" as he does on "time" in Uji. In fact, the kanji he choose for the word reading in the title of this chapter can also mean seeing, which can also mean sensing and experiencing.

Why does anyone read the Shobogenzo, sutras or other Buddhist writings? 

Something about what the Buddha taught awakens a sense of curiosity which resonates and is compelling. I think it’s up to each person to figure out what the source of that resonance is. Good friends and teachers help. As I’ve kept on reading what “reading a sutra” might mean has come to include everything in the universe, including zazen.

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Haiku for Kankin:

Trees, rocks, fields and space

Being totally themselves

Transmit the sutras.

Kalpa-to-kalpa

Sutras always being held,

Always being read.