Mathematics of Awakening

We all are aware that in most cases, crawling comes before walking, and walking comes before running. It’s like that with many things in life, you don’t immediately write the magnum opus as soon as you learn how to write. You don’t jump from learning how to count to trigonometry. You don’t learn how to say mama & papa and turn into a great orator. On the surface, that seems entirely natural, and indeed common sense. Once those skills have been learned, it can require continued usage of the skill can slip away. I knew how to speak Spanish and French a lot better before than I do now. You don’t use it, you lose it. You run a marathon, you need to continue running or you won’t make it to 26 yards let alone 26 miles. 

In all these cases, you need to be taught by someone how to manifest these capabilities you have the innate capacity to manifest. However, you can’t take a random group of people, some of whom just learned how to count, some of whom learned arithmetic, some algebra, and expect them all to learn trigonometry equally and at the same pace. They may all have the ability to learn it, but some will be at a different pace than the others. 

In the Lotus Sutra, Shariputra is confused by the Buddha’s teaching. He freely admits it. He’d been around the Buddha for ages, but was still confused. the following interchange takes place between Shariputra and the Buddha:

Then the Bhagavat spoke to Śāriputra, saying: “You have now persistently asked me three times. How could I possibly not explain it to you?

Therefore listen carefully and pay close attention! I will now illuminate and explain it.”

“When he said this, five thousand monks, nuns, laymen, and laywomen in the assembly immediately got up from their seats, bowed to the Buddha, and left. What was the reason for this? Because the roots of error among this group had been deeply planted and they were arrogant, thinking they had attained what they had not attained and had realized what they had not realized. Because of such defects they did not stay. And the Bhagavat remained silent and did not stop them.

Then the Buddha addressed Śāriputra: “My assembly here is free of useless twigs and leaves; only the pure essence remains.

“O Śāriputra! Let the arrogant ones go! Listen carefully and I will explain it to you.”

Then Śāriputra replied: “Indeed, O Bhagavat, I greatly desire to hear it.”

Then the Buddha addressed Śāriputra: “Only very rarely do the Buddha Tathāgatas teach such a True Dharma as this, as rarely as the uḍumbara flower blooms.

Then Śāriputra replied: “Indeed, O Bhagavat, I greatly desire to hear it.”

“O Śāriputra! Trust and accept what the Buddha teaches!”

What the Buddha teaches one, he may not teach another. That teaching may come later, maybe never if it isn’t needed. Just like Shariputra, we should not be embarrassed by not understanding a teaching. Likewise we should not assume that we do have something we don’t, like those who left the assembly before the Buddha could give his teaching. 

For me, there are three stages we go through as Buddhist practitioners. For example, regarding the Four Noble Truths, we hear that we struggle, there’s a reason for it, and then, “Yay!  there’s a way out! And here’s how you get out.” That’s Buddhism 101, arithmetic. Then as Zen practitioners, we move onto Stage 2–Algebra—“No suffering, no origination, no stopping and no path” Then beyond that: Calculus—“How can I help you?” The foundation of all “advanced” mathematics is still arithmetic. 

So is one stage more enlightened than another—more “woker?” It is a rare individual who can learn to count, then immediately leap to calculus. Not impossible, but unlikely. But does arithmetic invalidate calculus, or vice versa? Is arithmetic enough? In some circumstances, yes. In other situations, trigonometry is going to be necessary. But what is necessary at that time is the correct skill at that time. 

You may have heard of the Northern School/Southern School argument about Gradual Enlightenment vs Sudden Enlightenment  Great Seon ancestor Jinul spoke of Sudden Enlightenment/Gradual cultivation. Someone once described it as walking through a rain shower as Gradual, taking a cannonball dive as Sudden. For Jinul’s Sudden/Gradual, our  guiding teacher here at OMZS Ven Taesan  speaks of boiling water—it’s not boiling until it hits 212 Fahrenheit. It hits that, and bang! Boiling Enlightenment. But unless heat is continued to be applied, the temperature will start to drop. Northern/Southern, Sudden/Gradual, Sudden then Gradual, all concepts. Lesser Vehicle/Great Vehicle, Hinayana/Mahayana—concepts. Does one invalidate the other? Is Mahayana right and Hinayana wrong? 

Given impermanence as the 0 point, one may be a carnivore one day, then vegetarian, then vegan, then maybe back to carnivore. The egotist of today may be the most humble tomorrow. Just because a personal bar of ethics may be high, others not matching that level doesn’t necessarily make them inferior; they may not have the capacity for more. 

The Lotus Sutra speaks of Ekayana—one vehicle. Huangbo speaks of One Mind. The Buddha taught all of it, the ancestors and patriarchs have taught all of it, our teachers today teach all of it. Upaya, teaching geared to what the student needs/has the capacity for, not to the teacher’s self-centered ego. “Trust and accept what the Buddha teaches!” How May I help you?

Thunderous Silence

In the Vimalakirti Sutra, Manjushri asks the assembled Bodhisattvas to define non-duality. They all come up with answers, but none of them really nail it. Their explanations speak of entering into non-duality, but all of the 31 explanations descend into duality. Manjushri then poses the question to the layman Vimalakirti, who is silent. Then more silence. And then a little bit more. Manjushri then praises Vimalakirti, as having been the only one who correctly answered.

Sometimes silence is appropriate, sometimes not. Not-silence can often turn into polemics, proselytizing, and preaching. The thoughts behind the words may themselves be as accurate as Vimalakirti silence, but their delivery is less than skillful. The listener’s (or reader’s) ears may glaze over, or maybe they elicit praise, maybe they elicit anger. Same words, different responses, how so, great a Bodhisattva? The listener or reader determines how they feel about what the other person said. I could say to someone, “You’re ugly and your mother dresses you funny,” and similar feelings can result. Friends who know me and my tongue firmly implanted in cheek delivery might laugh, ones that don’t might just look at me a little funny and back slowly out of the room, and the remaining may become extremely hurt by my evaluation of their physical characteristics and fashion sense, the others may get very angry to the point of thinking about being violent, and the last few might actually scream and throw a punch. All from seven little words strung together in a particular order. (Or are you too stupid to see that?) What just happened then? 

I teach a class that involves the Eightfold Path, and that’s one of my questions for the students regarding Right Speech—can your words make someone feel a certain way. Almost always their answers involve negatives, how words can hurt someone. I use the above answer about their responses being made by thinking. What’s really at the heart is the state of the speaker or writer’s mind. What are my intentions behind the words? Do I intend harm, do I hope to bring laughter, am I just blathering on to hear myself talk? Both of speaker’s and reader’s sides both involve a large amount of “I.” To use Zen grammar-speak, subject and object. Mighty dualistic, wouldn’t you say? (What just happened there.)

In the state of Florida, there was just another mass shooting at a school, with 17 fatalities. There are plenty of people who’ll pontificate about banning guns, others that contend that if there were a “good guy with a gun” that lives would have been saved. Others will offer “thoughts and prayers.” What do all these words exhibit? So far as I can tell, there’s a large amount of “I.” “I know better, the Second Amendment must be preserved at all costs,” or, “I know more better, Right to Bear Arms be damned!” These statements will result in any of the possible reactions I showed above, maybe some I hadn’t even considered.

All this subject/object is just duality, opening the door to potentially vehement agreement or disagreement. It could be that how the words are expressed more skillfully than they had been, and the result might have resulted in something more than involving at least one of the Three Poisons of “Greed, Anger, and Delusion.” I can’t really tell you how you should feel, let alone what you should do. Maybe at best I’ll give you something to think about you hadn’t considered before, but most likely that depends on how skillfully I present it. I can consider my intentions, and how much I consider your potential response. 

My action of responding to the shooting at the Florida High School is that I took a personal vow to be nonviolent. Ahimsa, it’s called, to do no harm. I may not always exhibit metta, or lovingkindness; hopefully I’ll at least avoid doing harm. I haven’t been in the situation that the students and teachers were, so I can’t even say for sure how I’d really react. I only can hope that as I develop everyday my wish for doing no harm, that it becomes more habitual think and act that way than a knee-jerk hard left/right, right/wrong descent into duality. At times like this, my own thoughts, intentions, and speech are all I can control. At times like this, I’d hope that even Vimalakirti wouldn’t be thunderously silent.

May all beings be happy, safe, and secure, and have the causes of happiness, safety, and security.

Forest, Meet Tree

The Buddha's teaching of anatman, or “not-self” is often troubling and/or misunderstood by practitioners, both seasoned and novice. A number of techniques have been used to allay the fear of losing “my self,” by the Buddha and subsequent sages. As with all teachings, the use of Upaya, or “skillful means” is crucial. The Buddha was addressing bhikkhus, not standard householders, and as such, their capacity for understanding anatman is likely to have been more advanced than that of lay people.

So, what is a skillful way not to cause more suffering with the teaching of not-self? Certainly, having just described the human condition as characterized by dissatisfaction and that there was a means to relieve this dis-ease, immediately introducing as horror-inducing a concept as annihilating “me” doesn't seem to be a reassuring approach, especially if you throw the word "emptiness" in on top of that. What a hollow feeling! If one looks at the Five Skandhas--Form, Feelings, Perceptions, Impulses, and Consciousness--seeing that they in and of themselves do not comprise a permanent entity shouldn't be too threatening. All of them are constantly changing, de facto pointing to their not lasting permanently, i.e., obviously being impermanent. These five heaps haven't any Self-Nature or permanence of their own, therefore are characterized by emptiness, so added together it can't be expected they would somehow comprise something permanent. If one looks at the Buddha's teaching directly, he doesn't so much say that there isn't a “self,” as that the Skandhas aren't it.

The Relative/Absolute approach may be less threatening to the much clung-to need for “identity.” In the relative, you're you, I'm me, and we'd see that truth if I went to the bank and tried to make a withdrawal from your account. In the Absolute however, where do you end and I begin? From 30,000 feet, vegetation may seen, but as to whether that's grass or trees may not be so obvious. Coming in closer, tress may appear, but not necessarily whether they're pines or oaks. Closer in still, that they're oaks becomes evident, closer in still, individual trees, and so on down into bark, xylem, phloem, and finally to individual cells. At what point can we see the forest for the trees? And while a plant cell doesn't make a mighty oak, neither can the oak exist without the individual cell. The cells are the Relative, the patch of vegetation is the Absolute. The tree only manifests through the cells, the cells only manifest through the tree.

In the Ananda Sutta as translated by Thanissaro Bhikkhu, the Buddha and his cousin and attendant Ananda have a dialog:

"Ananda, if I — being asked by Vacchagotta the wanderer if there is a self — were to answer that there is a self, that would be conforming with those brahmans & contemplatives who are exponents of eternalism [the view that there is an eternal, unchanging soul]. If I — being asked by Vacchagotta the wanderer if there is no self — were to answer that there is no self, that would be conforming with those brahmans & contemplatives who are exponents of annihilationism [the view that death is the annihilation of consciousness]. If I — being asked by Vacchagotta the wanderer if there is a self — were to answer that there is a self, would that be in keeping with the arising of knowledge that all phenomena are not-self?"

If one were to look at the totality of the Buddha's teaching of the Dharma, it doesn't stop at personal liberation. It isn't an annihilationist (you don't exist) No Self, and likewise is not an eternalist the Self is an unchanging, permanent entity, it is the Middle Path between either of those extremes. And what is the preeminent aspect of the teaching, and from a natural selection standpoint, the most important is being selfless rather than self-centered.

The Diamond Sutra refers to “all beings are no-beings, thus are they called beings.” The Bodhisattva vow is to save all beings. The Buddha says in that Sutra that anyone who thinks of him/herself as a Bodhisattva is not a Bodhisattva, because that reflects a belief in a self, an entity, a soul. It could also be inferred that thinking of oneself is a Bodhisattva is also an egotistical exercise, thinking of oneself as superior to the other beings who need saving. And yet, in a self-less mindset, the Bodhisattva saves all beings.

A Huayan approach to all this might be that “all beings” includes oneself, and that all beings are totally dependent on ALL beings, with no line dividing the Bodhisattva from other beings. Thus, do to the interdependence, the "individual" contains all beings, just as the more obvious ALL contains the "individual. There is no tree without a cell, a cell is no-cell unless it is a tree. Dogen Zenji's teaching of "Actualizing the Fundamental Point" contains:

"To study the Buddha way is to study the self. To study the self is to forget the self. To forget the self is to be actualized by myriad things. When actualized by myriad things, your body and mind as well as the bodies and minds of others drop away. No trace of realization remains, and this no-trace continues endlessly." (Translated by Robert Aitken and Kazuaki Tanahashi, Revised at San Francisco Zen Center)

As much as anything, this typifies the journey the practitioner takes--clinging to the notion of self, seeing through that via meditation and analysis, seeing the interdependence of all beings, then seeing there be no need to cling to a "self." In not clinging, there is no worry of self/no-self, just join the world and do no harm. The tree doesn't care if it's in a forest, the forest doesn't care about trees, the trees just do what trees do, the forest does what forests do, and that is all perfect the way that is.

Unintentionally Consequential

There's a line between “what we are,” and “what we do.” It's sometimes very blurry, sometimes may even overlap, and sometimes diametrically opposites. It's all based on self-identification. Depending on work, we may conduct myself as an engineer, or banker. If we're in a political mode, the identification might be as Democrat or Republican, Labor or Tory, Trotskyite or Stalinis, Liberal or Conservative. Vegan, vegetarian, omnivore, male, female, gay, bi, lesbian, transsexual, transgender, Buddhist, Zen Buddhist, Forest monk, Shin, Christian, Muslim, Sunni, Shiite, Jew, Orthodox Jew, Hasidic, Reform, etc., and that's a lot of round holes we square pegs might be forcing ourselves into! 

These demarcations often have behaviors we associate with them, and quite often, we make ourselves into cookie-cutter images of what we imagine those labels demand. Likewise the label we pick may even determine what hole we think we should dive into. It's one thing to be environmentally conscious and then become a member of the Greens, it's another to look at them and start acting like we think a Green should act. Neither is particularly good or bad, after all, we haven't necessarily thought of every way to be environmentally conservative and may have something to learn from what appear to be like-minded individuals.

To one extent or another, we also try to force others into round holes, and they may have a totally different hole picked out for themselves. It may come as a real shocker to find out that Hitler was a vegetarian and that he was kind to dogs. Animal rights activists might also be vegetarian dog lovers, but that doesn't mean they also have to be Nazis any more than Hitler was a tree-hugging liberal. “Fascists are evil!” we might say, and then to find out that they aren't evil 100% of the time can shake up some of our deeply held preconceptions. And lest we forget, Richard Nixon created the Environmental Protection Agency, no tree-hugger was he, at least according to conventional wisdom. These examples of “other-identifications” are as mistaken as our own “self-identifications.”

Following the Buddhist path is to lead to liberation. Following the Zen path leads to seeing things as they truly are, to experience it fully, to see our True Nature, to help others, and thus become liberated. One could even say that we're already liberated, if we looked for something that held us in chains, we'd see that there really isn't anything. And not just in an “emptiness” nothing, but in reality “nothing” except our own thinking. To be liberated from our thinking is to stop thinking “I'm this,” “You're that,” and because of this and that, it means I must do something and you do something else. Dropping this thinking includes even the notion of unity and differentiation, the notion that there's a fallback position when things get difficult. We make difficult for ourselves, and we really don't need a fallback position. That doesn't really exist either. 

The bottom line is that there is no more a reason than an excuse for doing what we do. Negotiating the line I mentioned above can be tricky. Do I not eat meat because I'm a “vegetarian” or am I feeling compassion for all beings and therefore don't eat meat, so I look for the vegetarian section of a menu? Anything I do because I'm a “Zennist” is a poor excuse for doing it. Do I do things because I think it's correct action, and that just so happens to be what the Buddha would have done? Better reason for action. When I go the grocery store, do I put the cart in the little cart hut because that's what a Zennie “should” do? Do I see that someone's livelihood depends on people not putting carts back so he can gather them back up--which is what puts food on his family table? Honestly, sometimes I'll do either, largely dependent upon a whim. 

To use the grocery store example further, when they ask “Paper or plastic?” which do I choose and why? Do I immediately say “paper” because I think of myself as environmentally conscious Buddhist, and the Buddha wouldn't have used paper, so ergo I must use paper?. Making the choice isn't that straightforward if I really look at it. Paper requires trees to be cut down. These trees help the atmosphere, provide habitats for animals, help stop soil erosion and so forth. The power saws used to cut them down requires power, obviously. That power is most likely a fossil fuel, the trucks that transport the timber to the sawmill likewise uses gasoline, the saws at the mill use electricity, which may have been produced by coal, nuclear, or maybe by wind, solar, or water power. The rest of the paper-making process likewise requires power, and on it goes. As it turns out, I bring my own bags, because Northampton Mass has banned plastic shopping bags, so it's a moot point here. Previously I went with paper because for all the shortcomings manufacturing entails, plastic ends up not decomposing for the most part, so the long term result is probably the worse choice. Neither choice is pristine.

Until we stop creating karma, our actions will by and large not be pristine. Some may be wholesome and positive, some negative, and some neutral. The priest at an old Zen sangha I attended once said that meditation is one of the few karmically neutral actions we can make. Virtually any action we take--writing, grocery shopping, driving, being with loved ones, working--all involve other people, and therefore will have consequences. In my estimation, the same action will be perceived differently by others involved in the ripple effect of the action. The same person may have radically different reactions to the same phenomena, depending on the flexibility of perceptions. The reaction is dependent on any number of other factors in addition to the action I have taken. It would be very naive and self-important to think my actions happen in a vacuum, that they're the only stimulus that elicits a response. Even when I'm “just writing” this, the thoughts that come to me, the mood I'm in, my physical environment all figure into creating that “just.” In reality, what is it even possible to “just” do? 

As Bodhisattvas, the job of “saving all beings” may be as simple as trying not to do harm. Maybe the next notch up is to try to be helpful. We can't worry about how this help will necessarily be received, we can't be paralyzed by the possibility that an action may be taken to be other than in the spirit we intended. We do what we can, as skillfully as we can, to be of benefit to not only the one person we're interacting with, but with the realization that the ripples of our action will flow out like Indra’s Net. This is how we save “all” beings--by respecting and taking care of ourselves so we can help the next being with whom we come into contact, 

If we aren't paying attention, acting mindfully if you like, then our blind wandering throughout our environment may indeed result in our actions being “Unintentionally Consequential.”

The Gravity of Karma (Part 2)

This past weekend in the early hours of June 12, 2016, approximately 50 people were killed, another 50 wounded in the "worst mass-shooting in US history." I'm not going to expound upon the need for gun control, I'm not going to share an opinion whether everyone in the nightclub were packing a weapon, then a lot fewer people might have died. There are plenty of politicians and people from all walks of life that will supply the sides of that coin, and my opinion will add nothing about the subject. In the Dharma talk titled “The Gravity of Karma,” I mentioned the Sandy Hook school shooting of December 2014 (a classroom of 20 six-year-olds and six adults were killed), and the December 26, 2004 tsunami that killed a quarter of a million people.

In an unfortunate twist of serendipity, the original blog came out hours after the Orlando nightclub murders; the talk had actually been given a couple weeks previously. What I'd mentioned about Sandy Hook and the Tsunami, is now applicable to Orlando, and any future disaster and to previous ones as well. If you were to look at the Saṃyukta Āgama from the Pali Canon you'd come across this:

"According to the seed that’s sown,
So is the fruit you reap therefrom
Doer of good will gather good,
Doer of evil, evil reaps,
Down is the seed and thou shalt taste the fruit thereof."

That could be taken literally, and there's nothing wrong with doing so. I find it an oversimplified reading of Karma-Vipāka, what some translate as cause-effect. Thich Nhat Hanh would point out that the "seed" requires other factors to sprout: Sun, rain, soil, etc. Seed doesn't just sprout simply because it's a seed. Causes and conditions are required. 

The Madhyamaka school of Nagarjuna would investigate karma as it would any other empty, impermanent phenomena. There are four possible takes with karma: First is that cause is the same as the effect. Next, that the cause is different from the effect. Third that the cause is both the same as and different from the effect. And finally that the cause is neither the same as nor different from the effect. What the Madhyamikas would conclude from this is that there are problems in each argument, and conclude that the Middle Path is where Truth is.

 
The later Huayan school was more inclined to investigate the interpenetration of all phenomena, where in regard to the action/following action karmic sequence, "cause" results in "effect," but this effect is in turn the “cause” of the following “effect.” This virtually renders any difference between "cause" and "effect" moot. It's a dependent origination chicken/egg situation, where both sides could be argued for, and both against, and equally correctly and incorrectly. For my interpretation, the Middle Path is interpenetration, where cause is effect, effect is cause, and they are neither same or different.

But enough academics. Fifty people were killed in one night in Orlando, and honestly, there are probably any number of other locations in the world where murder is happening, maybe more victims, maybe fewer, and a great number will never be known through the media. Regarding Orlando specifically, there will be some who say, "How could God allow that to happen? There is no God." Others will forthrightly contend that because it was a nightclub frequented by the LGBTQ community, that as obvious sinners, that their deaths were not only God's will, but that they deserved to be killed as well. There are also some who, looking at the Saṃyukta Āgama, would conclude that the patrons of the the Pulse were merely reaping their karmic seeds. If that were the case, that would likewise have to apply to Sandy Hook, the tsunami victims, the 29 coal miners at the Upper Big Branch mine, etc. That interpretation strikes me as no less fundamentalist than those who judge than the "Gods will/they deserved it,” and equally naive. 

But being judgmental is not what this is about. Judging that a victim in a disastrous death is more horrific than another requires that multiple simultaneous deaths are "worth" more than individual deaths. The second judgement is that death is somehow a punishment rather than simply what happens. I don't say that to be cold or callous. Going back to the "cause is effect is cause" line, we have to observe what “cause” that the death “effect” will have, and what we can do about it. We can wring our hands, offer prayers, and in a few days when the media uproar stops (as it always will), and let it slide into being a statistic rather than tragedy. What is required is response rather than reaction, wisdom rather than revenge. 

Some will point to the Orlando gunman's religion, and say it was an act of Islamic terrorism. Others will point to the victims being in a gay bar, and classify it a hate crime. It may be both, but likewise it may be neither, and possibly neither. If either of those designations are taken as a cause for the action of murder, what “effect” was it that caused that "cause?" And that's not to make any excuses, or even to hypothesize about reasons. Understanding as best we can the relationship between these A►B events is what we can do here&now to affect what happens now, and help us to decide on a course to affect the future.

Hate for LGBTQ, hate for Muslims, hate for guns, hate for gunmen, hate for gun-control advocates, hate for nature, hate for God, will only maintain the status quo. Where does lovingkindness come into play, and if not that, at least respect, or at least tolerance, and if not that, at least a willingness to stop hating, to stop being willing to do harm. A bodhisattva vows to save all beings. "All" may be really tough to swallow any day, but in the aftermath of a headline grabber, even moreso. But we need to get there, regardless of the difficulty, regardless of the emotions that fuel hate today and tomorrow.

Rage is a natural reaction to events such as mass-murders. Clinging to rage will only serve to be another "cause," which be be another "effect," an A►B►A►B►A►B►A►B►A►B►A►B simplistic rhyme scheme that goes nowhere other than "self-" perpetuation. Rage is impermanent, but when we decide to let it dissipate will be when we decide to live in the here&now rather than the past, and work diligently to have an effect on the future that benefits all beings, even the ones with whom we might be vilifying with righteous indignation today. And maybe when we observe our own emotions, we may be able to see the interpenetration of emotions that take place in everybody, everywhere, every day, and decide what we can do to break the causal chain of hate and replace it with love.

Indeed, karma is relentless.

To listen to the Dharma talk, click on the title or navigate here:
https://soundcloud.com/onemindzen/the-gravity-of-karma
To read the original blog “The Gravity of Karma, go to:

http://nobodhiknows.blogspot.com/2016/06/the-gravity-of-karma.html

The Gravity of Karma

Zen doesn’t spend a lot of time on karma compared with other subjects, but any number of Zen Sages have taught and commented on it, starting with Bodhidharma, and continuing through to the present day. And karma is, along with rebirth, a major point of contention between various practitioners--Secular versus non-Secular being one dividing line. Are karma and rebirth just vestiges of the Gangetic Plain of 2,500 years ago, and as such not really Buddhist? There are statements the Buddha made about karma in the Sutras, but the Secularists might argue that these were added in by others as the Sutras evolved from oral to written forms. That may be the case. But I don’t really spend a lot of time arguing for or against them, as I just take them as a given.

I also don’t spend a lot of time on thinking about gravity. Right here&now, I’m subject to it. If I drop a glass on a hard floor, more than likely it will break. That’s just how gravity works, as well as floors and glasses, and clumsiness. Likewise, my volitional actions produce karma, and karma is produced in turn. The word Karma just being Sanskrit for “action,” and specifically intentional action, speech, and thought. In addition to the no-brainer that one action producing another seems to me, it’s also a no-brainer that karma isn’t just a simple A►B, cause-and-effect chronology. There may be times when it seems a simple as “drop glass, glass breaks,” but even there that resulting action of glass breaking, is still just the latest action in a line an infinite number of previous causes and conditions and their resulting actions.

Simple “cause and effect” and the Newtonian physics of “each action has an equal and opposite reaction,” also strike me as inaccurate. Given that the effects may be well-removed from their causes, and thereby subject to subsequent additional causes, A►B doesn’t work; it’s an oversimplification. “Equal and opposite reaction” may work for a while with those little balls on strings that clack back and forth against each other, but they don’t clack ad infinitum due to having expended energy with each swing, inevitably just running out of steam. The  A►B of committing a robbery and subsequently being robbed is likewise an oversimplification, as is the popular notion of “paying it forward.” I can’t say for sure, but I don’t think there’s a big cosmic piggy bank in which we make a deposit every time we hold a door open for someone. If there were, I’d better be able to cure disease A, just so someone else can discover a cure for disease B, and this cure discovery will be purely rooted in my having cured disease A, just in case I come down with disease B. Again, many more causes and conditions figure into the equation.

If someone sits in a bar and thinks it will be a good idea to drink for ten hours, then decides it would also be a good idea to hop in the car, it’s really not such a surprise when we find out that his car got wrapped around a tree with him behind the wheel. That would even seem to be pretty close to an A►B karmic flow as it gets, but many other factor have contributed--what happened earlier that day that got him to thinking that a 10-hour bender would be a good idea, and what led up to the events of that day, how did home or job or study contribute, how did childhood contribute, how did the bartender’s day contribute to his thinking it would be a good idea to continue to serve someone who’s been there through a couple of shift changes, was there a defective steering mechanism that came with the car from Detroit, did the most recent tire change at the garage contribute negatively to the car’s steering, and so on, going back well beyond Henry Ford and the assembly line and whoever it was that invented the wheel and intoxicating substances. Pinning it all on the Egyptians in this case may seem reasonable, but what came before the Egyptians to cause them and create the conditions where all these other thoughts, words and actions came to be?

Negative karma and negative outcomes, positive karma producing favorable outcomes is likely true, although when the positive seed bears positive fruit may not take place chronologically close enough for the correlation to be obvious. “Good” and “bad” karma are often seen as reward and punishment, as the fate of heaven and hell, and that’s really not a particularly Zen take on karma. Making one action “good” and another “bad” is the first problem. Who is it that’s making good and bad out of them? Rain on a wedding day may be a disaster for a bride and groom, and a godsend for a farmer. Rain may be followed by sun, maybe hurricane; sun may be followed by rain, maybe by drought. Thinking of these as karmic consequence isn’t correct, or incorrect. Taking them personally would be. 

Sun followed by rain is one thing, one might say a natural example of impermanence, of everything changing. Sun followed by drought may likewise be a natural sequence; both rain and drought are subject to causes and conditions, not only directly by the atmosphere, but also by the contributions of all who create karma on the planet that may affect weather and climate. Taking a rained out wedding personally, as in that’s the payback for stepping a a bug yesterday is probably not correct thinking. In the same vein, the farmer who takes credit for a well-needed rainstorm because he swung a chicken over his head three times last Thursday may also be flawed. I can’t honestly say for sure.

My thought on karma, and rebirth for that matter, is that they’ll take care of themselves, that is if there’s a “they” to be taken care of in the first place. If the result of one’s belief in “good” and “bad” karma, of “heaven” and “hell,” of “reward” and “punishment” really doesn't matter. As a concept, karma is as empty as any and every other concept. Taking that to be an excuse for nihilistic behavior would be incorrect, as general denial of “this” being involved in the rising of “that.” I can’t say you’ll be return as a fox for 500 rebirths, but I also can’t say you won’t. Even if it’s a Pascal’s Wager situation where performing correct action is a good idea, just in case there is some sort of cosmic retribution to come from it, that’s OK. Maybe not 100% correct, but maybe not incorrect either. What matters is that we ask ourselves “who is it that’s acting like there’s no downside to correct action,” “who is it that considers ‘this’ bad, and ‘that’ to be good,” “who is it that has created this karma,” “who is it that has had this fortunate rebirth, to hear the Dharma?” What really matters is that for whatever underlying reason there may be, we perform bodhisattva action, saving all beings. It may start out as a means of accruing good karma or merit, maybe as a means to avoid rebirth in one of the lower realms, and then eventually, for “no merit whatsoever,” as the Red-Bearded Barbarian once said.

Bodhidharma has another quote attributed to him that sums up karma as well as any other: “When something unpleasant happens, don’t be angry, it only makes sense.”

That’s the gravity of karma: It’s relentless.

Click on the title to listen to the Dharma talk, or navigate here:

https://soundcloud.com/onemindzen/the-gravity-of-karma

Truly Natural

I’ve spent a fair amount of time as what might be called a Zen hard-ass. I see a website for a Zen center that says that meditation will result in peaceful calm equanimity, and I want to shake somebody. I’ll think to myself, “How can you say that?!? There are no results, and making promises that can’t be kept just sets people up for a feeling of failure, maybe even contempt for the Zen center or Zen practice itself!” To some extent that is false advertising; it’s not like sitting mindfully on a cushion will unequivocally bear any fruit, at least maybe not in the meditator’s time frame. There are no guarantees of peace, calm, or Enlightenment just because you sit on a cushion once a week or read a book.

And yet, I can’t deny that with practice, maybe in one instant, maybe in an instant that takes many lifetimes to roll around, peace, calm, equanimity, and yes, even Enlightenment may actually result. Meditation can be like the medication that is meant to treat one thing, and ends up having a beneficial side-effect. We get on the cushion because of some sort of suffering, and maybe that suffering is relieved through our practice, but “Hey, what made me suffer is still there, but at least now it doesn’t make me suffer...at least not right now, anyway.” A minoxidil of the struggling self, where not only is the ulcer relieved, but “Hey, look at that, I’m not bald anymore!” And that’s OK.

Bodhidharma spoke of perceiving our True Nature as Enlightenment, or Awakening, or simply “Buddha.” Mazu spoke of “Mind is Buddha.” Sengcan spoke of the Great Way as “easy for those with no preferences.” As Zen practitioners, quite often we can seemingly make things “difficult” for ourselves, argue with the idea that “Ordinary Mind is the Way,” and sometimes mistake what we think is our true nature for True Nature.

When one begins practice, it’s easy to be overwhelmed by the paradoxical, sometimes contradictory statements that the Great Sages have handed down to us. Our inability to understand must mean that we are “bad Buddhists.” We hear about Buddha Nature at some point, and contend that it’s either impossible, or maybe possible for someone else, but certainly not for “me.” We might hear about “no mind,” and assume that implies that if one is sitting in meditation and thinks at all, then we are meditation failures. And maybe we hear about Zen practice as the direct perception of reality. Shortly thereafter, the Heart Sutra comes along and tells us that all perceptions are “empty.” “Damn. This is hard. My ordinary mind is anything but the Way.”

And none of these thoughts we might have are inherently “wrong,” but maybe the way in which they are “right” isn’t readily apparent. When it comes to “True Nature,” as a result of practice, we get to the point where we can observe our thoughts, then eventually judge the thoughts as empty, and live in the realm of the Absolute, at least while we’re on the cushion. Once back in the “real world,” it’s back to greed, anger, and delusion, only to be seen in retrospect back on the cushion, with the distinct possibility that some self-scolding will begin. The wrong-ness of the behaviors I’ve mentioned may seem dualistic, that there’s “not-good/not-bad,” and therefore I’m spouting heretical views to say that there is wrong-ness. That there are “wrong” actions is undeniable.

Upon investigation of those thoughts from a classic text standpoint, maybe do you have a point, but only to a certain extent. If you want to pick and choose the teachings justify that view, then you can come to that conclusion; if you want to pick and choose teaching that refer to not picking and choosing, then it becomes a moot point as to whether I’m right or you’re right, because that’s being. “Oh hell, there’s another kalpa in the realm of hungry ghosts” for having picked and chosen is as dualistic as saying, “Oh goody, I didn’t pick and choose, Great Way here I come!”

It’s easy to come to the conclusion that in radically accepting ourselves as flawed, that stopping there is the attainment of True Nature. “I’m a jerk,” we say, justifying our perceived jerkiness as True. And while it’s true that you’re a jerk, or that I’m obnoxious, or that others are really delusional and would be a whole lot better if they practiced meditation, it may not reflect “True.” Being an obnoxious, delusional jerk is as much a part of reality in its totality as being kind, loving, tolerant, and wise. Seeing our True Nature doesn’t just mean accepting that we’re jerks. It does mean that we can accept it, seeing it for what it truly is--constantly changing--and taking steps to be not-a-jerk. Seeing the jerk within gives us the freedom to be that jerk, to see that we needn’t be a jerk, and that I’m not a jerk every minute of every day and will be forever, or that just seeing being a jerk is not actually running the whole race. We accept reality for what it is, see that not only will it change on its own, but that we can be an active participant in the changing. In the perspective of interdependence of all phenomena, when I change just the slightest bit, the entire universe changes. When the universe changes, I cannot help but change--causes and conditions differ, reactions and adaptations to those causes and conditions change, and as there’s no “universe + 1 (me)”, I’m a part and the whole of the change.

When I see that I can hate, and that I also can love, that’s truth--reality. But when I see that my True Nature, yours, and the Nature of all phenomena, is not to think that seeing that I can hate means it has to stop there, attaching to the notion that there’s any permanence to that particular momentary reflection of reality. So far as direct perception of reality goes, letting go of notions, perceptions, and nature as real things is the Great Way. True Nature isn’t a thing, or a concept, something that can be attained, noticed, not attained, or not noticed. It can be said that it’s both attained and not attained, noticed and not noticed, but that’s getting into the territory of the conceptual. “To Call it a thing is not correct,” as Nanyue said to the Sixth Patriarch. When we look past “True Nature” and simply act truly naturally, then there is correct True Nature, truly natural ordinary mind Buddha-Nature.

Click on the title or navigate here for the Dharma Talk:
https://soundcloud.com/onemindzen/truly-natural

A Nose is a Nose

In Zen, we can tend to use a lot of metaphors and analogies. No harm in that; sometimes we need a “like this” in order to help someone comprehend what is arguably incomprehensible. And sometimes the metaphor or analogy may take on a life of its own, to the point where what it pointed to is lost altogether.

Without putting too much thought into it, “raft” and the “moon” are two that jump out. Metaphorically, we use the raft of our teacher and the teachings to help us get to the other side of our originally ignorant thinking, which would be to get to the other shore of wisdom. Then it's said we are to discard the raft, as there's no longer any need for a one when the river of delusion is crossed. Fair enough. But that doesn't mean we toss the teaching or the teacher aside and disregard them. They still have value for us to use at any time where the situation fits their need. If we do toss them away without regard for the purpose originally served, we’re right back in the “river” of discontent and in need of the teacher and the teachings all over again. The raft is a metaphor. We can reify a metaphor, but the metaphor is only an empty metaphor. To someone who has never seen a river, let alone a raft, the raft becomes doubly empty.

We often hear about mistaking the finger pointing at the moon for the moon itself. Double metaphor! There is no finger, there is no moon. The ineffable moon is the Great Way. To call it “moon” is not correct. To call it “it,” is likewise incorrect. The “moon” and “Great Way” are fingers, and no more. There are any number of words from the Sutras and elsewhere that are the fingers. For those of us with limited capacities, we might need the direction of the finger to point the way; a smile may not do. That's been the case since Mahakashyapa smiled upon seeing a flower. I'm making a great leap here, but this was the lesson of the flower sermon. A rose is a rose. A kiss is just a kiss, a sight is just a sigh.

I can't say whether dogs have it over us other sentient beings. Throw a ball, then point to it, and the dog becomes enraptured with the finger. On the one hand, we're no different. We attach to the finger and forget all about the moon. On the other hand, if “cypress tree in the garden” is a valid response to “What is Buddha,” then maybe “the finger in my face” is valid as well, so long as there's an actual finger waving in my face. Other answers such as “dried shit on a stick” and “three pounds of flax” only work if you've just come out of a Chinese latrine, or happen to be weighing flax. But let's not attach to fingers, moons, sticks, trees, or fibrous plant material at the expense of what they're used to represent. What's right here, right now? The present, the immediate, the unjudged are. “What is Buddha?” Virtual words behind glass, the smell of fresh, ink stained paper.

When we hear about the dewdrop reflecting the moon, the metaphorical dewdrop reflecting the moon points to something. Or maybe there's just a dewdrop that at that moment happens to be reflecting the moon. It could be said that all phenomena reflect Buddha. If everything reflects Buddha, then there is no need to attach to moon, finger, raft, ignorance, wisdom, green, yellow, rivers, or mountains. In the vast Dharmakaya, there is none other than Buddha. So why bother asking the question “What is Buddha?” The answer is literally right before you eyes, and includes your eyes, what's behind them, and in all ten directions from them. Is there honestly any real reason to think about them at all? All our thinking does is give them name and form, and concepts, and as the “Mind Only” school might say, we are creating them as concepts of eyes and mountains and moons and ducks.

They're all just fine as they are, totally indifferent to our conceptualizing them, pondering them, analyzing them, or analogizing them. They don't worry. They don't need our validation to be what they are. They're as oblivious to us as we are to them until that moment when we cause “that rather large rocky thing that juts up out of the surrounding area” to become “mountain.” When our attention is distracted, we no longer think “mountain.” For us, “mountain” falls away and so far as we're concerned, “what mountain?” We may be at the foot of the mountain, but unless we are paying attention to where we are and what we're doing, what is taking place around us, even that which is there isn't there.

It happens in the other direction also. There's the story of some monks, strolling along the road, when a flock of ducks come into view, fly overhead, then pass. Mazu asks Baizhang where the ducks went. Baizhang replies that they flew away.  At which point Mau proceeds to pull Baizhang's nose, and most likely with great force. (I make that assumption based on the likelihood that a gentle “got yer nose,” story probably wouldn't have endured for centuries). The nose was pulled because it was there, and the ducks weren't. They had flown along with Baizhang’s ability to pay attention. Baizhang falls into Master Ma’s checking trap. There had been ducks, now there are no ducks other than the ones still residing between Baizhang’s ears. When Baizhang’s nose heals, the nose stops hurting. But if Baizhang's grudge against Mazu doesn't heal, then Baizhang is hurting...himself. But any grudge passed, just like the flock of duck. I can well imagine Baizhang being hypervigilant any time he heard “quack.”

There are times where someone might say that the “nose” symbolized the “self,” and Mazu was trying to aid Baizhang in relieving his attachment to the “self” as if it were a separate entity. I can't say I agree with that. From what I've been taught and what I have read, Mazu seems extremely straightforward. I have no reason to suspect Baizhang’s attachment, if for no other reason than I'm not Baizhang. That which pulls the nose is Buddha, that which yells “Ouch” is Buddha, Baizhang’s bloody nose is Buddha, even the drops of blood on the ground are Buddha, whether they reflect the moon or not.

Use the raft, forget the raft, until the next time someone needs to hear about the raft. Then when they no longer need the raft, we can let them in on the secret that not only is there no raft, but there is no “other” shore. Unless you're explaining this on a beach or a river bank, “this” shore doesn't exist either. Point at the moon, but maybe not with a finger and not at the moon, unless it's nighttime and its relatively bright out. One can easily also use the moon and clouds if need be, so long as it's nighttime and gloomy.

But this is a great element of practice: Saying precisely what needs to be said at the correct time, and nothing more. I know of someone who was told that he was qualified to teach, and was even allowed to use words if he had to. But only if he had to with no laziness, no shortcuts, no lack of searching for the right non-word. And when a word is necessary, going straight is certainly something to aim for. The Diamond Sutra teaches this. A nose is no-nose, thus is it called “nose.”

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