Die on the Cushion

In this crisp morning after last night's thunderstorm, I went off to my cushion at Joy Lane with a gnat of a thought buzzing in my head. Dosho Port, sensei posted an intriguing case about death at his blog Wild Fox Zen. (If you click the link, you'll see the post.) In it, he quotes from a report that investigates the afterlife beliefs of Japanese Zen monks. It was rather thrilling, I have to admit, to get to read the innermost, quiet beliefs of these men who are singularly dedicated to living and breathing zazen....

And it was surprising, for what they think is not necessarily what you'd think they think!

Reading of it was refreshing, in a way-- for if these people who are so dedicated to zen practice could hold such beliefs, they could be human too, rather than the enlightened stalwarts I elevate them to be. Ahhh!

What annoyed me was my sanghas' responses to this post. Dosho asked, "What do you believe?" And as usual, most answers were either "why bother worrying about it? It's not happening now (it's not enlightenment?)," or some quote by some long-dead Zen Master, proving how clever the post-author was. As if avoidance was perceived to be "enlightened behavior".

So I grit my teeth and set about "dying on my cushion" this morning, following the first zen instruction I received early in my practice. Humph. We must face death earnestly and honestly!

Well....thoughts floated and buzzed and by the end I'd gritted and grunted through the lot of it. Zazen is hard, when you have a "mission" or something to prove.

It wasn't until later in the evening that a lightningbolt of understanding struck me. (Yes, a tooth-flossing kensho, you might say.) It seems that one of the sangha had responded to another of Dosho's posts to say he'd had a very strange dream about death that night. Clearly the conversation had given him a bit of a mind-scramble. I understood. Death is hard.

We can't think our way through death. And we cannot think our way through to enlightenment; and it follows, we oughtn't think our way through life, either. My earlier grit fell away, my disgust over over-intellectualization dissolved. We do it--think-- because life, existence is so large, so overwhelming. There's too much to comprehend; and we think the more we can mentally organize, the safer we are. We cannot.

So I leave you with this bit of advice from Buddha himself, culled from yet another blog I find very inspiring, that of Eido Frances Carney of Olympia Zen Center. She's paraphrasing her own dharma talk. And what she had to say seemed a good approach to this string of events. Enjoy!

When we think of "self" we think of consciousness or mind as that which defines us. But, the Buddha pointed out that it was much wiser to take the physical body as the self rather than the mind, or consciousness, because the body was slower, more settled, solid. Our minds are moving very quickly and our thoughts change very rapidly, much much faster than does the body change. Also, if we must think of a self, by placing the notion of self in the body, we can release ourselves more easily from the tyranny of thoughts and be more equanimous moment by moment. That is a moment of the Buddha's sweet wisdom.

Good, Bad and...What Else Is There?

Welcome back, after a bit of an absence! Our travels for Mother's Day were wonderful; it's good to get away from it all once in a while, to change scenery and perspective. And I was very glad to be back in the Zendo last week. Personally, I had a "good sit"-- you know, one of those days where it's easy to enter the flow of things as the Mental Chatter is low and expectations are nil. Two periods of zazen flew by and I left the zendo feeling refreshed and light. I had missed my practice!

One week later, though, and it's more thorns than roses on the zafu. So, what's the difference? Why should I lose that energy that I had last week? Sits like these are disappointing, and I find that when I leave the cushion, I feel such regret for wasting an opportunity to have an hour of my life well-centered and at ease.

In Soto Zen, there are a couple of "tricks" one can use to quiet the mind in order to create a "good sit". One is counting the breath-- counting exhalations to 10, and thus focusing the mind. Another strategy I used this morning was simply asking, "what else is there?"

A nightmare of a thought popped in. "What else is there?" I asked myself as I found myself following a very negative thought-stream. And just with the asking, the negative stream abated, and on I went. Soon an agitated thought popped in. "What else is there?" And I recognized a pattern to my thoughts that seemed to suggest an agitation in my psyche. So rather than belittle myself for having "bad thoughts", I gave myself a dose of compassion, promising to address the underlying issue once I got off the zafu. Soon I felt that sense of flow again, a "good sit". But still, "what else is there?"

We don't meditate to have a "good sit", and zazen isn't about strategies-- though these can help to gain concentration. It's about just sitting, without aim or goal. It is a study of the self, and a forgetting of the self to find the reality of all things. Just sitting-- opening to the experience of enlightenment itself, beyond "good or bad". Just.

Shelter from the Storm

Buddha's Footprint, featuring the symbol for the 3 Jewels. 1st Century CE.

Another brilliant day of grey skies, and thus richer forest color and birdsong, at the Zendo today. But did I notice? No. Why is that? Ah, this was one of those days where my mind was spinning in a million directions of worry, concern and regret. We've all had sitting periods like that.

It's easy to want to escape from those moments on the cushion, but I attribute them to be flags of concern, reminders to myself to sit still more often, because evidently there is a lot happening in my life that is a little too much to bear. "My mind runneth over." Perhaps like many others, my present way of dealing with these overwhelming things is to ignore them and just move on... Keep moving!

Don't Just Do Something...Sit There! Sylvia Boorestein has a knack for creative Buddhist book titles, and that one has always been my favorite. I have yet to read it, but the title has certainly been a mantra for me on days like this. My other mantra is "I take refuge..." This phrase began my journey of dedicated practice, and over and over it continues to inspire me, especially when times are hard. Like today.

"I take refuge in Buddha. I take refuge in Dharma. I take refuge in Sangha." These are the Three Jewels of Buddhism, and the basis of the vows one takes when practice deepens. These are also what is represented by the three bows I make before chanting the Heart Sutra on Saturday mornings, and the three bells rung at the end of our practice. But what are they?

Refuge can mean many things. What came to mind today for me was refuge as an oasis, a calm-in-the-storm, a moment to step out of the downpour under a shared umbrella of kindness. Refuge in the Buddha today then meant taking shelter in the idea that this, too, is a part of enlightenment; that beyond my judgments and worry, there is perfection in this exact moment. This moment is awake.

By taking refuge in Dharma, or the teachings of Buddha, today I chose to have faith in the act of sitting down in the midst of all my worry. The zafu itself, the moment, crowded as it was in my thoughts, became a rich teacher by my allowing it to be so. I didn't get up and run. The zafu was my refuge.

Taking refuge in Sangha often points to the community of practitioners one shares space with. And, it can also mean the teachers that have imparted Dharma in one's life. So today I took refuge under a large umbrella of compassion, upheld by all the multitudes of generations of teachers and students that have come before me, all of them with equally complicated human lives. Today, I took refuge in being fully human.

So I fell back on that cushion today, and allowed my mind to simply overflow, relaxing in the refuge of the heart of my practice. And guess what? Without me chasing after them so hard, those awful thoughts calmed on their own, and by the end of it, I was merely half as harried as I had been when I first sat down.

Ah, the power of the humility of "I GIVE UP!!!"
Have a peaceful week, everyone.