Wednesday, December 29, 2021
"New and Old~Same or Different"
Wednesday, December 22, 2021
"Chanting Service for Ven. Wonji Dharma"
Thursday, December 9, 2021
"Opportunities to Awaken"
Wednesday, December 1, 2021
"Where is That Ox?"
Thursday, November 18, 2021
"To Do Good is to Act as a Buddha"
Thursday, November 11, 2021
3 Out of 4 Immeasurables
Wednesday, November 3, 2021
"Falling Through the Wall"
Wednesday, October 27, 2021
"Right Thought and the Foundations of Mindfulness"
Wednesday, October 13, 2021
"Can You Risk the Snooze Button?"
Wednesday, October 6, 2021
"It Only Makes Sense"
Thursday, September 30, 2021
"Holding On to a Different Past"
Thursday, September 23, 2021
"The Way Needs No Cultivation"
Wednesday, September 15, 2021
"A Dark & Stormy Night"
Thursday, September 9, 2021
"Friends"
Wednesday, September 1, 2021
"To Stop the Children From Crying"
Wednesday, August 25, 2021
"The Fenceless Fence" (Platform Sutra Week 4)
Wednesday, August 18, 2021
"Samadhi & Prajna" (Platform Sutra Week 3)
Friday, August 13, 2021
"What is Prajna?" (Platform Sutra Week 2)
Wednesday, August 4, 2021
"Don't Despise the Beginner" (Platform Sutra Week 1)
Thursday, July 29, 2021
"Five Empty Heaps"
Wednesday, July 21, 2021
"The Great Eternal Question"
Thursday, July 15, 2021
"Don't be a Bodhisattva"
Wednesday, July 7, 2021
"Mirror of Zen"
Wednesday, June 23, 2021
"Consolation"
Thursday, June 10, 2021
"Supporting all Living Creatures"
Friday, June 4, 2021
This is not who I am (and I’m sorry if I offended anyone)
By Rev. Mike Jinji Sunya Wood
“Cancel Culture,” if it exists, would probably not exist if those caught in the spotlight doing or saying something harmful would just apologize, rather than offer a non-apology that looks like contrition only at first glance. It is human to make mistakes, human to make the most hurtful decisions for yourself and other people, human to create good and bad, evil and sacred. It is also human to own one’s actions, reflect on them and learn from them; it is human to admit you are human. Whenever anyone gets called out or their actions begin to hurt their image or pocketbook, the line is usually used, among others, is something like “I’m not like this,” “This is not who I am,” “Anyone who knows me I’m not like this,” etc.
That selfish, cruel person committing those actions is a part of who they are.
And
Surprise! That is who you are too!
If you did something, of course that’s you who did it! Is anything more straightforward? That’s not all you are; a person shouldn’t be judged based on one action or comment. But neither should they avoid the fact that all humans, as complex, flawed beings are capable of anything. It’s just a fact. You may not wake up one day and think it is a good idea to use (and sell) as a protest against vaccinations the Star of David badge that Jews were forced to wear as identification, to shame, to draw attention to them as objects for abuse; but watch out if you think you can’t do something similar, especially in such shrill, thin-skinned times. That woman who did obscenely exploit a sacred symbol, rightfully enraging and appalling millions in the process, never thought she was the type to wake up with an idea like that either.
I think that those insincere, defensive public apologies are driven by fear, fear of losing business, influence, reputation, of the now-inevitable death threats and trolling. Part of it too, perhaps, is a fear of being treated as one-dimensional, defined by one incident, villain. They fear being treated in the way in which they probably saw other people who fucked up in public before them; they may also fear the rage which they felt for those others was now to be turned on them.
We all have a hard time admitting we are vulnerable. We have an even harder time sitting with the idea that we are also capable of causing great pain, making someone vulnerable feel worse about themselves.
So, to the only question there is:
Who are you?
(ie What is this? Or Does a dog have Buddha Nature?)
Does the woman selling the Star of David in the belief that state-supplied vaccines are equal in tyranny to the Nazi state-mandated extermination of an entire race have Buddha Nature?
It is important, I think, to try and understand just what surprise is. Surprise may be understood as being of two main types:
The “surprise” that comes from encountering people or situations in life that disappoint us; an expected promotion turns out to be a layoff; a first spin in a new car ends in an accident that paralyses you for life; the sudden death of a loved one, etc.. The most common surprise in this context is that which comes from other people letting us down.
But the deeper we examine ourselves, observe what arises and recedes around us and in us, sooner or later we learn to realize, if not accept, that we let other people down too. We hurt people.
The other type, then, is the surprise of the curious, not the deluded, of the one bold enough to realize one’s own potential for harm, and for being harmed, and for failure, that leads to compassion, to an understanding of interdependence, of the brief, fragile nature of all beings. Hold people accountable, directly, publicly and legally, for the hurt they cause—just don’t let yourself be lulled into a satisfying dream that they and their actions or words are beneath you.
Do the dirty work; it is the base and peak of the mountain at once. Here you are the novice and the Bodhisattva at once.
Wednesday, June 2, 2021
"Spend the Night in a Cave"
Wednesday, May 26, 2021
"Turning and Churning 10,000 Things"
Wednesday, May 19, 2021
"Which Buddha"
The Starting Line
Guest blog by Mike Jinji Wood
Our failures to act, our hesitations, can be the foundation for Bodhicitta, fuel that an aspiring Bodhisattva can use in order to relate to and aid other sufferers. I realize that I have had with me all along the tools I need to heal and be healed; I needed to wade through my sense of who I was to see its impermanence, to see how much of my suffering beyond the initial events was caused by my absorption in them; I needed to realize that understanding my losses as well as my missteps were important because they placed me among everyone else who has suffered. The particulars of my suffering need to be valued, and healed, but are important in so far as they help me understand what other people need to heal. As the individual is both unique and a literal container for the universe, so too the individual path of one at the beginning of the path relates to the idea of the Bodhisattva ‘s path over eons. Instead of eons, I am moment by moment trying to help, trying to use my flaws to my advantage by putting me in a position of understanding of what is needed within a wide range of suffering, developing bodhicitta and compassion from examining my errors and suffering and yet still finding myself in a fortunate position—because of them—to be of service.
This speaks to the heart of my intentions as one who has taken the Bodhisattva vow. Though I am only just beginning, there are already a series of questions I keep in mind, knowing that it is ok if I have no clue how to answer them on a given day. How do I express interdependence in my actions? Do I? Do I really wish to devote my life to service? Why? What are my intentions in taking the vow of Bodhisattva priest? What are the ingredients at hand at this first stage? What do I believe about enlightenment that will help me be useful at this stage? I believe all of these questions need not be, but can be, answered by how I see myself at the first stage of those vows. What does being at the first stage really mean if, in essence, it contains within it the highest of stages of abilities and realizations?
I have always been enamored of the idea of Beginner’s Mind. I take the Bodhisattva’s keeping his defilements handy, as it were, as Upaya for helping the widest range of life with which one will interact for their benefit. To know suffering in many forms can make one more useful, more able to understand the suffering of certain groups. While this is dangerous, at least in the beginning of the path—it is easy to delude oneself into thinking that one is getting drunk with drunks merely to relate to them in order to save them!—mindfulness of one’s flaws is key to understanding and being compassionate to the flaws of others. For me, Beginner’s Mind means that I just need to act, not worry about becoming anything. I can be at the starting line with other people who are also starting out—to rebuild their lives, recovery, learn to read, learn to accept their life and their responsibility for it. To me it means not being afraid to do the daily dirty work of paying attention, being mindful, noticing all the sentient life around you and taking responsibility for it. In those daily, seemingly mundane steps are the seeds for the magisterial heights reached by the Bodhisattva through eons of being of service and taking one’s vows seriously.
The process of practice, of acting out one’s vows with the understanding of their initial imperfection and ultimate emptiness, is what matters. The aspiring bodhisattva at the beginning stage still acts with a mindfulness of vow and a determination to serve; in that way his actions are interdependent with the most perfected of bodhisattvas.
I once signed up to read the weekly news and some books for the blind on a local closed circuit radio station. I impressed myself when I overcame the familiar anxiety in the parking lot that made me want to run away and blow off the audition. I went in, checked in at the front desk where a blind receptionist made a call to announce that the next appointment had arrived. I sat there, excited to have a chance to be a part of something so needed. As I sat there, the man who had auditioned ahead of me came out a side door with a scowl on his face. That was all I needed to deflate my aspiration. As he walked out the door, I followed him and we almost went through the door as one. I often wondered if she heard me leave, or if maybe for a moment she was alarmed that the next man to audition was no longer breathing.
I’m making no great statement of insight or of transformation, nor do I minimize my selfish and neurotic actions which affected other people to some degree. A good part of this is just the natural process of growing up, learning from experience and philosophically taking my head out of my ass. But today I see the Bodhisattva path in terms of action and dedication, whereas maybe twenty years ago I’d have been too enthralled by whatever mystical connotations I attached to it to be of use to anyone. When faced with a person who is suffering, thinking about how I may act as a Bodhisattva, or how worthy or not I am to be having such an aspiration, is foolish.
Just help.
The robe I wear, along with the brown kesa, announces that I am a fully ordained monk. But that doesn’t mean I’m halfway toward becoming a Zen master, or am a few steps ahead of other practitioners. If every moment is completely new, then I am always a novice. I have never been 55 years old on April 30 at 9:16pm. How can I pretend to have special insight into a moment that never existed before now? To see each moment like a novice, to greet the moment with curiosity and awe, to stand aside and let the moment reveal its needs, leaves little time for any version of the self to impose itself. How can we allow each moment to reveal itself, to teach us amateurs how we can help it benefit and care for all beings? We too often look toward the finish line in our ambitions and practice, but there is so much to do at the starting line. The more we step aside and see what is independent of our ambitions and biases, we notice that every moment is a starting line, the starting line.
Wednesday, May 12, 2021
"Sitting With the Adults"
Wednesday, May 5, 2021
"What Are You Sitting For?"
Wednesday, April 28, 2021
"The Path, the Practice, and the Precepts"
Wednesday, April 21, 2021
"The Way Seeking Mind"
Wednesday, April 14, 2021
"Grief and Compassion"
Wednesday, April 7, 2021
"Words Beyond Words"
Wednesday, March 31, 2021
"The Invisible Boundary of Self"
Wednesday, March 24, 2021
"The Jewel in the Hem"
Sunday, March 21, 2021
The Vomit of Insight - Guest blog by Rev. Mike Jinji Sunya Wood
In Korea, Wonhyo (617-666) was on his way to China, in the hopes of finding a master who would teach him Buddhism. While on his long walk, he became thirsty, but kept walking. By nightfall he was becoming dehydrated, and retreated into a cave. By luck, he found inside a bowl filled with water. He drank greedily and fell asleep. The next morning, in the light of day, he realized in quick succession that the cave was a tomb, the bowl was a skull, and the water inside it was fetid and filled with maggots. He threw up violently, at which point he was enlightened and saw no need to continue on to China.
A lesson that can be learned here is that we create the good and bad of a situation through our biases, knee-jerk reactions, and conventional understanding. Yet the lesson is also that any situation is a moment to realize liberation, and any challenging moment can be endured without making it any more dire or rosy than it ought. We can realize that we are already liberated by meeting any situation head-on, like Wonhyo, who in his disgust realized that it was only his perspective that caused him pain. Not that drinking maggot, gristle stew out of a skull is recommended—but the night before it had been some of the best water he ever drank. The primacy of personal experience and choice is clear.
The mind is a terrible thing to listen to, a wild jackass of fragments of memory, experience, lies, fears, hopes, dreams, songs, TV shows; we’ve talked to ourselves for long that we’ve churned all that mess into a semi-coherent narrative that we come to believe is true. This jackass becomes a thief, taking you away from a real experience of life with its powerful and seductive judgments and resemblance to a linear factual assessment of who you are.
We can use even the most harsh, sick, disgusting moments of our lives as vehicles for awakening, for breaking the spell of that inner tele-novella . As we can become aware that negative actions and thoughts are just energy, powerful energy that can in turn be redirected for beneficial use, we can also see times of illness or stress as times when there is useful energy present. All of life is our practice: if we are sick, we practice experiencing our sickness, without judgment; likewise with despair, rejection, insult, etc. This does not mean trying to convince ourselves that we don’t feel like shit, or that we are not afraid or grief-stricken. There are times when listening to what our minds are telling us about our bodies is critical to maintaining good health.
It does mean realizing that, if any moment, this moment, is the moment to wake up, and if this is moment of discomfort, so be it. Wonhyo experienced through nausea—and its insight into life and death—an enlightenment moment. Literally puking out ignorance and fear, and realizing that discomfort and fear can be good news for practice, and sharp insight into the ephemeral nature of our emotions. He might have mentioned the hazards of laughing while vomiting, but we nevertheless can be grateful to Wonhyo for his being able to carry this lesson onto the Bodhisattva path and pass on that insight for the benefit of others.
Though Wonhyo could be ambivalent about the necessity of a teacher in one’s awakening, he was a teachers, albeit of the primacy of individual experience. No one can puke out my illness for me; a good teacher, though, like these sages, could point out my sickness for you, and hold the bucket while I vomit out some more of my ignorance.
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Wednesday, March 17, 2021
"I Am Not In Control"
Wednesday, March 10, 2021
"It's Not Pie"
Wednesday, March 3, 2021
"The Bondage of the Blue Screen"
Monday, March 1, 2021
Two Raw Vimalakirtis
By Rev. Mike Jinji Sunya
Much like Vimalakirti, the sly layman of the eponymous sutra, we often meet people who challenge us with their pain, shake us out of our stupor by the mere fact of their presence or, rather, the jarring presence of their suffering. Vimalakirti’s illness was Upaya, skillful means for instructing even some of the great Bodhisattvas in the uncomfortable face of suffering, the true cost of compassion.
So this means too that one of the basic points of the sutra is that though ultimately there is no sickness, in this realm of form, and that sickness can be useful not only as a tool for awakening, but as a means to helps others wake up, it is also real, and acute, and a cruel teacher. To learn compassion, or inspire compassion in others, then, is to recognize both the form and emptiness of pain.
Much like the short Pali teaching The Monk with Dysentery, illness becomes the sharpest of blades, challenging our compassion, our vows, the true cost of the Bodhisattva vow to save all beings. Illness reminds us that practice has to include the dirty work.
Two friends of mine died, years apart an under drastically different circumstances, but their teachings have become, for me, inspiration for living my vow and constant challenges to any bullshit or pride inherent in my practice.
Roger was a resident of the nursing home where I was to do my practical portion of CNA training. My (and my partner’s) duties for him included the most feared of tasks for the trainees: He had an colostomy bag, which had to be emptied and replaced as part of washing him and getting him ready for bed. Once we got him undressed and in the shower, we saw clearly that no one had changed his bag in some time; it was full. I jumped right in and volunteered to the one to change him. I barely touched the bag when it popped loose from his side, and shit therein was now all over me, over him, over my partner. I was also face-face with the open stoma, which was oozing more shit.
Shari Faye Smith was a friend I only met once, on an episode of Forensic Files. She had been abducted by a serial killer who taunted her family by phone once she was in his clutches. Before he was to torture and kill her in the most unspeakable ways, he made her write out a last will. Fully aware that she was going to die not soon after writing it, fully aware of the horror and pain she about to endure, she spent her last few clear-headed moments to show compassion to her parents, and to meet her fate with a steely grace that goes to the marrow of the bodhisattva vow:
I love you Mommy, Daddy, Robert, Dawn & Richard (her boyfriend) and everyone else and all other friends and relatives. I’ll be with my Father now, so please, please don’t worry. Just remember my witty personality & great special times we all shared together. Please don’t even let this ruin your lives, just keep living one day at a time for Jesus. Some good will come out of this. My thoughts will always be with you & in you. Casket closed. (Emphasis mine.-mw.)
Mom, Dad, Robert & Dawn, there’s so much I want to say that I should have said before now. I love y’all! I know ya’ll love me and will miss me very much, but if ya’ll stick together like we always did – ya’ll can do it! Please do not become hard or upset. “Every thing works out for the good of those that love the Lord” (Romans 8:28).
She had just turned 18.
While she derived her strength and resolve from a faith source we may or may not share, the lesson of the power of pain to speed up a realization of, access to, the marrow of practice is clear. Shari Faye Smith embodied Great Faith, Great Doubt and Great Effort as resolutely as any Patriarch.
In Vimalakirti’s little room, the great radiant Bodhisattvas of the 10,000 Realms had no answer to his bringing them face-to-face with simple sickness and death. Of course, there was really nothing in the room at all, illness being ultimately empty as is all form. So that form was empty, but in the moment experienced was a hammer to the face of ignorance, to the dreams of bliss and mastery.
My friends the old man, the teenage girl, and all teachers and bodies (including my own), remind me that the dharma gates we sometimes enter in order to help all beings are doors to sickness, to shit, to incredible pain, to a lost cause, all icy-hot challenges to our own vows, our own Great Faith, Great Doubt, and Great Effort.
What in your life or your practice helps you run toward the dirty work?
What pain do you avoid or turn away from, because it isn’t comfortable or is too painful to embrace?
My answers to that last question include abused animals/images of factory farming, aggressive mental illness, hungry kids; I’m sure that behind the many other doors that need to be opened by me, are suffering beings for whom my tears, self-doubt, squeamishness and pity are not welcome and shown to be hollow.
How can we possibly live our vows? How do I come to embrace the dire needs that are always present? Advancing toward the light is the same in emptiness and form, in contingent and Ultimate realms as shit, and blood, and helpless, raw suffering. How does all that simple yet kinda esoteric idea play out in the mud of your daily life? By getting as close as you can to it, eyes wide open, and become what the moment needs.