Wednesday, February 17, 2010

Floating Zen: Harvard Buddhist Community

Photo © 2006 Laine Walters/The Pluralism Project; you can visit the beautiful Andover Chapel virtually here at the Pluralism Project's resources page.

This one I'm going to call Dharma treat.

Especially after the day I had-- oy! Pilar Teishin and the very bad no awful terrible horrible day. (A mama's nod, obviously, to this gem.) To wit: my kitchen flooded-- Twice; and thus I learned my landlord is terminally ill. Some mean 20-year-olds began dismantling the igloo I'd just made for my 3-year-old in front of him, apparently for snowballs. And to make matters worse, turns out I'd put my underwear on inside-out while dressing this morning. Gah. This day!

I'd planned to visit the Harvard Buddhist Community meditation session in the evening, but while stirring my rice for dinner I decided I oughtn't count on it... and so began the utter blessing of remembering to give up completely.

I even gave up on counting on knowing where I was going, once I made it there --and so I did, at 6 o'clock sharply. And so imagine my delight when I arrived at the chapel's front door just in time to meet a very nice law student who was on his way there also. A guide. Wonders!

We ascended a noble-looking stair and entered an old chapel that took my breath away. I'd read a bit of its history on the Pluralism Project website (the link is above), but really, web sites do no justice to delivering the real feel of a place. Old wood, wide walls, grand ornamentation and lofty, pointy ceilings-- I entered the room and felt elevated.

And so should one feel at Harvard, one supposes...

At the center of that ruckus of a wooden-chair-gathering you see pictured above was a nice, cushy oval rug, and upon that rug were a handful of zabutons, upon whose zafus sat a handful of students. Honestly, it was a novelty for me-- nearing 40 as I am-- to at long last be the eldest person in the room; most dharma communities I visit are home to folks far older than I, and I've long been one of the youngest in attendance, even now. Yet at the opposite end of the oval stood a simple wooden table, and thereupon sat the oldest One in attendance, with a bright offering of a single candle beside the icon. I bowed to all the ages, and sat.

Tsultrim, the student leading the group, gave a brief introduction to the practice, which was grounded in awareness, effort and relaxation. There is no particular style HBC follows; rather they are open to any meditation tradition and so echo that diversity in the format they offer. We sat "in our own way" for 20 minutes, facing the center of our oval, and after had a brief Council-style sharing session where we could say aloud whatever was on our minds at the moment, passing the talking-stick afterward to our neighbor. Tsultrim began our Council practice with a short reading on past, future & present from his Tibetan resource of Mind Trainings. At the end, by my request, we said our names again and what meditation tradition we followed.

The real gift of the evening-- I mean besides giving up completely-- was in the joy offered by sitting with others who are from such different backgrounds, inspirations, techniques and traditions. It struck me that this doesn't really happen that often-- usually, one goes to a Zen Center or a Tibetan Center or a Theravadin Center, and that's that. So throughout the meditation period, before even knowing anyone's training or experience, and without those labels or the "common cause" that can rally (...and distract) those within a given tradition, I returned again and again to this sense that all of us were just sharing a truly human experience. By whatever means, we were simply meditating. And struggling with the same repetitive thoughts, soreness of muscles, antsyness, stillness... Just sitting.

The Harvard Buddhist Community is open to anyone who has an interest in sitting with such a lovely diversity of folk, and tonight students old and very new in the Vipassana, Zen, Tibetan, Thich-Nhat-Hahn, Catholic and "otherwise nameless" traditions met together with great sincerity.

And, once again (lucky me), with great zafus...


Three out of three enso!

Saturday, February 6, 2010

Floating Zen: Spring Hill Zen

An old image of the UU Church of Medford, found here. You may also visit their website here.

Boston Dharma Tour 2010 continues...! Today I chanced to visit Boundless Way Zen of Spring Hill in the Medford neighborhood. Housed as it is in an old Unitarian church (est. 1663!), my first impression was quite grand: Today I am going to have a truly religious experience.

Indeed, one of my very favorite things about experiencing the different types of zen offered in the area lies in the precious discovery of so many approaches to practice. For there are so many expressions to offer, as I've always assumed, but never explicitly sought out. It's a treat and a gift to be in this position-- of not being a seeker, per se, as I've already found "my" lineage and practice-- I'm not shopping for form. Rather now I'm simply exploring what is out there, to enjoy and learn from what others do.

For Spring Hill Day I arrived a little early, thinking I'd acquaint myself with the new surroundings. I found the sangha gathered in a large social-hall in the back of the church. (I'd actually hoped for a peek into the church itself, but ah well, next time...). They were a friendly group, and in good, intimate number; again as it was at Open Circle, the core seemed to consist of 4 long-time members. Additionally there was a visiting teacher, and another newcomer and myself. Such a mix lent a good dynamic as far as age-range and practice experience, it seemed to me. We stood outside of a smaller room, speaking quietly to each other until 9 am. Then we filed in, chose our places, and sat facing forward until the service began.

The service! My. I have not attended a full Zen liturgy in years and years! And this is where my first bit of resistance popped up: Shaddap already. I just want to sit. Yet you'll see a note on their website that specifically addresses this resistance (what, you think I'm the only one?), and at the end a key point by John Daido Loori roshi: that it's through this practice of offering and expressing our beliefs that we bring Buddha to life. Not here, not gone: Buddha exists beyond absolutes, and our devotional practice--performed with the right spirit-- allows us a moment to access that sense more fully.

One of my first observations was that the ceremonial form of the practice toys with absolutes...Meaning the quality of the practices did not settle, but changed with each turn: first chanting cadence up, and then down... kinhin slow, and then fast... zazen facing the wall, and then the center. The practice seems to me another mix of Soto and Rinzai Zen, which I'm finding typical for the area. And without settling on one or the other, a pattern developed, a rhythm of doing, a rhythm of change, that offered me a new perspective, a new approach, to not knowing.

The morning thus consisted of a 1/2 hr service (facing center!), with lovely bells and drums and song; then 5 minutes of kinhin (slow, then fast!), and then four 25-minute periods of zazen (facing/not facing/facing/then not facing the wall), punctuated by the same kinhin practice. We ended with a recitation of the 4 Vows & of course, 3 Bows, announcements... and an invitation to brunch down the street.

Spring Hill Zen offered a vibrant, committed and intent-driven practice environment. And situated as it is in an old church, being surrounded by fragrant old wood and stained glass offers one a real sense of tradition that is not as evident in the shiny-new (current century, that is) patina of many Zen Centers. Oh yes, and once again? Great zafus.

"Three out of three enso" ;)