Podcasts about in zen

In 1988 at the 31st annual Grammy Awards, a new category was introduced: Best Hard Rock/Metal Performance Vocal or Instrumental. That night, Metallica's '...And Justice For All' famously lost to Jethro Tull's 'Crest of a Knave', but another album was also nominated that evening: 'Nothing's Shocking', the debut studio album by Los Angeles band Jane's Addiction. Love them or hate them, there's no denying the impact JA had on 90s alternative music moving forward, and this week's guest, Reno, Nevada musician, actor and artist Nick Ramirez (Worst Little Podcast in the World), is comin' down the mountain to talk about it... Songs discussed in this episode: Jane Says - Jane's Addiction (Live Roxy Theater, Los Angeles 1987); Worst Little Podcast Intro - Worst Little Podcast in the World; Dumped In Tokyo - Cori Elba (recorded live on the Worst Little Podcast - Reno, NV, March 2025); Pigs In Zen (Live Roxy Theater, Los Angeles 1987) - Jane's Addiction; Nobody's Fool - Cinderella; Walk Together, Rock Together - 7 Seconds; Love Removal Machine - The Cult; Nausea (X cover, recorded live in Los Angeles, 1989), Ripple (Grateful Dead cover), Up The Beach, Ocean Size, Had A Dad, Been Caught Stealing - Jane's Addiction; Ringfinger - Nine Inch Nails; Serve The Servants - Nirvana; Ted, Just Admit It - Jane's Addiction; Everything Zen - Bush; Standing In The Shower...Thinking, Summertime Rolls, Mountain Song, Idiots Rule, I Would For You (Live Roxy Theater, Los Angeles 1987), Jane Says, Thank You Boys, Pig's In Zen - Jane's Addiction; Stranglevine - Roxxy Collie  

Are you dreaming? How is your experience, like a dream?In one sense, the words you are reading, the sounds you are hearing, the thoughts racing through your mind and the ones seeming to linger in the background, the worries, and any other emotion that you might be experiencing, including experience itself—all are un-pin-down-able, you can not grasp them, you can not even find a single unchanging sensation that you can call yourself.All appearance is as ephemeral as a dream.In Zen practice we are encouraged to inquire into this dream-like experience. To really taste and know experientially the empty-yet-apparent nature of all experiences.Such an inquiry can revitalize wonder in our living.For if this were a dream, then these characters, these people you seem to meet, the environments that you traverse, the feelings and thoughts that arise—are all part of the dream.Blue Cliff Record Case 40: Nan Chuan's As a DreamAn officer from the monastery was talking with Nan Ch'uan and said, “The Great Teacher Chao said, ‘Heaven, earth, and I have the same root; myriad things and I are one body.' This is quite marvelous.”Nan Ch'uan pointed to a flower in the garden. He called to the officer and said, “People these days see this flower as a dream.We can practice seeing the dream-like nature of reality and open to the oneness of experience. If heaven, earth and yourself have the same root, if the myriad things and you are one body. What is this root, what is this body?What is our shared nature?Meeting the Characters in This DreamI want to share a practice I have been exploring as a way of meeting the characters in this waking dream, as if they were characters in a night-time dream. I have found that when I entertain that this is a dream, and meet the characters and myself fresh, with compassion and curiosity. I can step outside of my projections and strategies of protection, and see the mystery of who and what we are.I would like to share the practice here. If you would prefer to listen to the guided meditation version. Click the link above. Today's audio is just the guided meditation of this exercise. You may want to have a journal as you listen or read along.* Recall a situation in your life where it feels stuck, this could be a relational conflict, work situation, impasse, your experience of the political situation.* See the different characters in this waking dream, see the environment where this situation is occurring from a zoomed out position. Remind yourself that this is a dream and notice if anything changes in how you are seeing and experiencing the situation.* Now see the dream of yourself in this situation, notice what feelings, beliefs are alive in you—what do you want? What are you afraid of?* Zoom out again and see the whole scene. Next imagine stepping into one of the other characters in the dream, this could be a person with a different belief or position, someone who is not you. What do you see from their vantage point? What feelings and beliefs are alive in them? What do they want? What might they be afraid of?* Zoom out again and see the whole scene. Now see if there is another perspective, maybe that of a third character, a pet, or part of the landscape of the dream (sky, chair, wall, floor) What is it like to step into their position? What do you see from their vantage point? How do they feel about this situation? What might they want for you? What wisdom might they have?* Come back to seeing the whole dream, the whole scene in this situation. Notice if you see anything you didn't notice before. What is it like to come back to the situation itself, after having stepped into the dreams of the various characters?Notice if you feel curious or open or more compassionate?* Come back to this dream, feel your body here, connect to your senses, look around your space. Take a moment to write down or draw anything you learned or observed.I'd be curious to hear about your experience. Feel free to leave a comment.* What was it like to see this situation as a dream?* What did you learn from stepping into the other characters in this waking dream?* Are you aware of anything that you weren't aware of before?I'm also curious to hear from you. We have been diving into the exploration of the dream-like nature of reality, are there other topics that you are interested in hearing more about or focusing on? I'm considering doing a Summer Read of The Hidden Lamp. This is a collective of koans/stories from the women ancestors with commentary from contemporary teachers. I would share the koans we are focusing on throughout the summer, and you could read along or listen to my talks on the koans. We could share thoughts and experiences with the koan live on zoom on Monday nights and through the comment section here on Substack. I'm Amy Kisei. I am a Zen Buddhist Teacher, Spiritual Counselor, Astrologer and Artist. I offer 1:1 Spiritual Counseling sessions using IFS and somatic mindfulness. I also offer astrology readings. Check out my website to learn more. I currently live in Columbus, OH and am a supporting teacher for the Mud Lotus Sangha.I currently have a couple of spaces open in my Spiritual Counseling practice for the Summer. And my books are open for June if you would like to book an astrology reading. It's quite an interesting year astrologically and I do natal readings as well as solar return and year ahead readings.Below you can find a list of weekly and monthly online and in-person practice opportunities.Weekly Online Meditation EventMonday Night Dharma — 6P PT / 9P ET Join weekly for drop-in meditation and dharma talk. We are currently exploring Zen and Dreams.Feel free to join anytime. Event lasts about 1.5 hours. ZOOM LINKZen Practice opportunities through ZCOLight of the Ancestors Sesshin—May 12 - 18, in-person at Great Vow Zen Monastery16 Bodhisattva Precepts Class—May 4 - June 8, online class series exploring the ethical teachings of Zen BuddhismGrasses, Trees and the Great Earth Sesshin—August 11 - 17, in-person at Great Vow Zen Monastery (this retreat is held outdoors, camping is encouraged but indoor dorm spaces are available)In-Person in Columbus, Ohio through Mud Lotus SanghaInterdependence Sesshin: A Five Day Residential Retreat Wednesday July 2 - Sunday July 6 in Montrose, WV at Saranam Retreat Center (Mud Lotus is hosting its first Sesshin!)Weekly Meditations on Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit amykisei.substack.com/subscribe

ZEN IN OUR TIME“Connecting the Dots”Some of you A few may have undergone formal training, in Zen or other meditative traditions, or you may be a relative newcomer to Zen. The objective of this essay is Whatever your experience level, this course should help you sort the wheat from the chaff, to clarify for yourself which teachings of Buddhism are relevant to you, to provide some background on Zen Buddhism, how to integrate Zen practice into your daily life, and the importance of Zen's unique style of meditation, and finally some approaches to integrating Zen practice into your daily life.. My approach to Zen may seem a bit different from others you may be familiar with. The reason for this is NOTE: Applying my professional training in design thinking, which influences how I see the world. To augment more traditional text-based presentations of Zen and buddha-dharma, my training in graphic design, I have charted the basic teachings as 3D structures flattened into 2D charts, available upon request. This illustrates their interrelatedness, providing visual aids and mnemonics to help you visualize and remember them. The graphic models allow further analysis of overlapping and interconnected implications of what otherwise typically appear as linear constructs and literary outlines in the verbal formword. We are literally going to connect the dots to the degree possible.Basics of BuddhismZen NOTE: Applying my training in graphic design, I have charted the basic teachings of Zen as semantic models, 3D structures flattened into 2D charts, for the sake of illustrating their interrelatedness, as well as providing visual aids and mnemonics for you to visualize and remember them. These will also allow you to do further analysis of the overlapping and interconnected implications of what otherwise appear as linear constructs in the written word. Buddhism is both very simple and complex at the same time. As we say in design circles, "simple in concept; difficult in execution." The amount of material available on Buddhism appears virtually endless. I am not a scholar, nor a historian, but it may be helpful to provide some background from the perspective of Zen practice, on the subject as I understand itThe Four Noble TruthsBuddha re-discovered these truths in his meditation and articulatedmeditation them in his "First Sermon.” He unfolds a model of "Four Noble Truths." This quartet constitutes a kind of take-it-or-leave-it description of reality, the causes and conditions of sentient existence, including the Eightfold Path, a thoroughgoing prescription for practice, covering the eight dimensions of leading a Zen life based on meditation. All of the teachings may be seen as corrective descriptions of enlightened realty and prescriptions for taking action based on the enlightened worldview. Buddhism's Four Noble Truths are traditionally translated as the existence of suffering, its origin in craving, the potential of cessation, and the path to follow in daily life, leading to cessation. This begs the question — WhatWhat, exactly, makes them so noble, after all? They can beare ennobling, but only if we embrace them. If we do, : they can enable us to live a life of compassion in the context of inexorable change, or "suffering." The Noble Truths do not change with circumstance. They do not interact with, nor react to, changes in circumstance. The first of the four truths is that this existence — indeed any physical existence — is of the nature of suffering (Skt. dukkha). There is no existence without change, the universal dynamic. Galaxies colliding, the Big Bang — all is dukkha. As human beings, we are caught up in this change, and we tend to take it personally. We suffer not only physically, but also emotionally, mentally, and even socially. The second truth is that most of our suffering is finds its origin in our own attachment and aversion,, craving, or thirst: clinging to the pleasant, and avoiding the unpleasant. Suffering is both natural —, as in aging, sickness and death —, and unnatural or intentional —, as in self-inflicted and mutually-inflicted suffering between human beings, and imposed upon other beings, sentient and insentient. On a personal level, Buddhism embraces suffering, rather than trying to avoid it. The third of the truths offers hopeis that suffering can cease, but only through our embrace of it. The natural processes of aging, sickness and death cannot be avoided no matter how hard we try. They are built into existence itself. UnnecessaryIntentional and unintended suffering can come to an end, however, through relinquishing cessation, or at least lowering,the extent ofof our craving, modifying our craven behavior.The Noble Eightfold PathThe fourth of the quartet posits that there is a way of living daily life as a path to cessation. Theusual interpretation of its eight points begins with worldview, or intention. In time our view evolves toward conformance to that taught by Buddha, through examining our thought, or understanding., "Right" view and thoughtwhich together comprise right wisdom.; Engaging in loving speech, kind action and a compassionate livelihood, add up toor right conduct. E; and engaging effort, mindfulness and meditation, we developas right discipline. The only real discipline in Zen is self-discipline, which applies to lay practice as well as monasticism.Wisdom, conduct and discipline constitute our tripartite path. Fortunately, Zen offers a workaround. The primary focus of Zen is the practice of its highly focused method of meditation (J. zazen), integrating posture, breath and meditationattention, called “zazen” in Japanese. Zazen is like a magnifying glass, an indispensable and instrumental method for focusing attention awareness in an extremely tight awareness on our own direct experience. Which is where the origins of Buddhism arose, from the meditation of Buddha, Shakyamuni. Visualizing the Eightfold Path as a 3-dimenional model of a cube illustrates that these eight components of the three primary divisions — the outer person, or conduct;, the inner person,or discipline;, and the fruit of the practice, the evolution of true wisdom — are all interconnected in complex ways. For example, the intersection of right speech and right action: “You talk the talk, but you do not walk the walk.” Your words do not match your actions. Each pairing of any two of the eight dimensions can be analyzed in such a manner. But the important thing is to be aware of them, and observinge how they affect our lives, and how our manner of living affects them. The Six ParamitasWhen we think of perfecting our practice of any activity, such as playing the piano, or high-performance athletics, naturally we form some sort of goal or expectation that we hope to realize. But the notion of perfection in Zen is not like that. There is an ancient Sanskrit term,from Sanskrit, “paramita,” that is sometimes translated as “perfection.” There are six such, (sometimes expanded to ten,) such in traditional models. — The basic six-pack usually translatessometimes condensed as: generosity or giving;, precepts or (ethics);, energy or or effort;, patience or or forbearance;, meditation, contemplation or concentration;, and wisdom. But in Zen, we instead look to discover their true meaning and application in our meditation. The founder of Soto Zen in 13th Century Japan, Master Eihei Dogen, was said to have commented, paraphrasing: asking In zazen, wwhat Precept (morality) is not fulfilled? In Zen, the perfection of desirable personality traits, and the full comprehension of them, becomes possible only through diligent pursuit of wholehearted meditation practice. My Zen teacher, “sensei” in Japanperese, Soyu Matsuoka-roshi, would often say that we should always aim at the perfect posture in seated meditation, never imagining that we have achieved it. This amounts to “posture paramita.” We engage in a process of perfecting, in lieu of setting goals of perfection. Eventually, with repetition, any endeavor such as practicing the piano, dance moves, sports, or martial arts forms, will reach a turning point, where it becomes truly musical, transcendent, and transformative. Your practice of meditation will likewise naturally go through several turning points in its evolution. Eventually, it will become what my teacher referred to as “the real zazen.” This is when posture, breath and attention all come together in a unified way. Not-two.Zazen: Sitting Still Just Sitting; Still Enough, Straight Enough, For Long EnoughThe focus of Zen is on the present moment, but the activity that is occurring moment by moment is ceaseless, relentless in its changing dynamic. We sit still in order to recover our original mind, in which stillness is not separate from motion. This is one meaning of an ancient Sino-Japanese term, “mokurai”: stillness in motion, motion in stillness. Silence in Zen, to take another example of mokurai,, is not the absence of sound. The silence is in the sound. And vice-versa. Same for stillness and motion. Nonetheless, we emphasize the stillness partsays. It is difficult to slow down, let alone come to a full stop, in today's world. When we do — sitting still enough for long enough — a whole new dimension of reality opens up for us. We enter the original frontier of the mind, discovered by Buddha two-and-a-half millennia ago, and passed on to us by the ancestors of Zen.Concluding the InconclusiveLike most things in life, Zen has to be experienced to be understood, from personal experience. This is one instance of how the highly specialized training in Zen has a halo effect on daily life. If you have become accustomed to the extreme clarity of mind engendered in quiet meditation in the zendo, you will be better equipped to face the chaos in daily life Two aspects of Zen that I have mentionedindicated remain foremost in my mind —- its irreducible simplicity of method, and the importance of finding the right teacher for you. I highly recommend you pursue both with diligence, as if your hair were on fire, as per Master Dogen.

Speaking of watching your Ps and Qs, when taking up the way of Zen meditation, it may seem all too easy to get things backward. In fact, according to the great Zen ancestors, getting it wrong is a natural and necessary part of the process, expressed as "Fall down seven times, get up eight," apparently an old Chinese saying adopted by Master Dogen. He also said that hitting the bullseye depends upon the 100 prior misses. So we are inevitably immersed in trial and error. In considering Buddha's original teaching in the First Sermon — outlining the Four Noble Truths, including the Eightfold Path — one aspect is often overlooked. Along with the fact that they consist of a description of reality and a prescription for practice, respectively, they also include four admonitions, or instructions for how to approach implementing them. I think of these as the four "charges," one accompanying each of the Noble Truths, namely: 4 CHARGESExistence of dukkha - (we are to fully) UnderstandOrigin of dukkha - () AbandonCessation of dukkha - () RealizePath to cessation of dukkha - () Follow The translator's choice of "understand" in this context seems woefully inadequate, given that even Buddha himself pointed out that what he realized was beyond understanding, in any ordinary sense of the word. But setting aside the semantics, let's consider all four commands as outlining a process of assimilating and acting upon Buddha's teaching. We are to fully understand, or comprehend, the existence of suffering in this world. We are to abandon its main source, or origin, namely our own craving. We are to realize the cessation of suffering, hopefully in this lifetime. And we are to follow the Path in our daily actions, so that everything we do becomes the path. And thus, as Buddha taught in the Lotus Sutra, widely regarded as his last teaching, there is actually no separate Path, if everything is the path. We are on this path whether we know it or not. And, of course, we do not necessarily engage the process in the order implied by the sequencing of the sentence. In fact, we begin at the end, with the Eightfold Path. It, too, is usually laid out in reverse order of its implementation: Right wisdom: view and thought; right conduct: speech, action and livelihood; and right discipline: effort, mindfulness and meditation. Again, we begin at the end, with meditation, which leads to mindfulness and greater effort, which affect our conduct, and so on, leading eventually to right wisdom of understanding and worldview. Or so we hope. But when we consider the difficulty of what Buddha did, and is asking us to do, it seems impossible on the surface — as do the Precepts, when considered as literal and absolute. So we are left with the prospect of figuring out what these directives actually mean, and how they might be accomplished, by contemplating them in meditation, which brings us full circle to where Buddha realized these truths, on the cushion. In Zen meditation, we are encouraged to give up our reliance on the ability of the discriminating mind to analyze and understand, and instead to trust our intuition to come to an insight into reality that is not accessible to reason alone, what Master Dogen referred to as "non-thinking": neither thinking, as such, nor notthinking. So we are to find the sweet spot, the balance between these two aspects of our original mind. In light of this attitude adjustment to the way we ordinarily approach problem-solving, let me suggest another analogy to clarify the long and broad teachings of Buddha's tongue. P's & Q's of ZenKeying off of this common trope, engage with me in an experiment in semantics that may hopefully shed some light on buddha-dharma. Setting aside the "Qs" for now, I propose that we can frame the basics of Buddhism in alliterative form, as a collection of words beginning with P, or more precisely, "Pr," which turns out to be a substantial set of considerations to be assimilated before ("pre-") setting a course of action: • Premises & Principles• Predilections & Proclivities • Prescriptions & Practices• Promises & Predictions Premises & PrinciplesBuddhism, and for that matter any body of teaching, is based on a set of premises, defined as: ... a previous statement or proposition from which another is inferred or follows as a conclusion: if the premise is true, then the conclusion must be true. Another pr word pops up in the definition: proposition, which has a less definitive connotation, being a mere proposal, than a premise, which indicates a more settled basis. Premises, when proven out by experimentation or sheer experience, may become principles, much as hypotheses become theories (and with enough evidence, laws, or precepts) of the profession under consideration, such as science; or, well, law. Predilections & ProclivitiesHowever, Buddhism — dealing as it does with fallible human nature — also takes into account our predilections, proclivities, and predispositions, as well as any pertinent preconceptions we may be harboring. These words, too, have definitions and synonyms that often reflect each other, such as predisposition and predilection, i.e. sharing similar connotations of preference and propensity. Prescriptions & PracticesWhen it comes to taking action based on the premises and principles laid out in Zen's teachings, and in light of the weaknesses of our predilections and proclivities, semantic hair-splitting does not help much, except perhaps to illustrate the subtlety of the task of discerning which prescriptions and practices might prove to be most productive for following the Zen Way under the present predicament in which we find ourselves. The default mode of action prescribed in Zen is meditation, of course, but many of the practices surrounding and supporting it raise issues of protocols in a starkly different social and cultural environment than that in which the ancestors found themselves. This is the key challenge of propagating Zen today, in a context of over-choice on every level of society. Promises & Predictions The promise of Zen, however, remains the same, no matter the situational causes and conditions surrounding our life and practice. Success in penetrating the koan of existence, while not predictable, may be predicated upon the simple formula of sitting still enough, upright enough, for long enough that the effects of zazen begin to manifest. Buddha predicted the future buddhahood of many of his followers, including his cousin Devadatta, who reputedly tried repeatedly to assassinate the great sage. AfterwordThis familiar "Ps & Qs" phrase came to mind while mulling over the design of Buddha's initial teachings, and after reading Ben Connelly's excellent commentary on "Vasubandhu's Three Natures." The first page that comes up from an internet search on Ps and Qs tells us that the phrase can be traced back to the 1779 Oxford English Dictionary. The most plausible origin, of several possible provenances, is that it refers to early typography, where "p" and "q" were likely to be mistaken, one for the other, when setting lead type. This factoid comes from a site hosted by The Guardian that you may want to check out if you are interested in the origin of words and phrases (etymology), semantic enigmas, and the evolution of language in general In our next segment we will continue delving deeper into the design intent of Zen's teachings and their implications for living in times of increasing uncertainty. Other than death and taxes, the beneficial effects of Zen and zazen are one of the few things that are certain in life. But that does not mean that we should take them for granted. We have to put in the work, making "effort without aiming at it as Master Dogen prescribes. Please plan to join our new online and onsite practice opportunities for 2025. My new Thursday evening Advanced Workshop, in particular, is designed to take a deep dive into the more subtle secrets of Zen and the details of zazen.

In the new Thursday Workshop I have initiated for 2025, I am attempting to lay out in great detail what I believe to be the most natural way to meditate: zazen before Zen, so to speak. It may not be your daddy's meditation, but it is that of our ancient forefathers. Meditation, after all, was not the exclusive discovery of the historical Buddha, and his realization could not have been the first in the long presence of humankind on the planet, just the first recorded in history. What he discovered represents a return to something more primordial than Buddhism; Buddha was not a Buddhist, after all. Traditional teachings emphasize the perfecting of the Six Paramitas, which enumerate both personal and social dimensions of the place of Zen philosophy and practice in the cultures of India, China, Korea, Japan, and the far East. They are variously translated as charity, ethics, patience, effort, meditation, and wisdom. But in Zen practice, the perfecting of the paramitas in our daily lives is not merely a matter of remembering and agreeing with them in principle. It is, instead, recommended that we observe them in everything we do, within each dimension of the Eightfold Path; most especially including meditation, the eighth in the usual order, and the first place we begin to make effort. As Master Dogen is quoted as saying, In zazen what precept or ethical principle, is not fulfilled? The main method of Zen cannot be detached from the Eightfold Path, nor can it be left out of the process of perfecting the other five paramitas. Posture ParamitaIn fact, in zazen we begin by taking up another process of perfecting — perfecting the posture. Matsuoka-roshi would often say that you have to work your way through every bone in your body, and suggested that we develop an attitude of continually aiming at the perfect posture, never imagining that we have achieved it. This amounts to a practical application of Dogen's cryptic phrase, "making effort without aiming at it." This is what I refer to as "posture paramita": an exploratory search for the natural posture. Much like the proposition that we are already enlightened but we don't yet know it, this approach suggests that our posture is already perfect, but we keep interfering with it. Much of our training in zazen method is about how to stop doing that. The Natural Way to MeditateOne of the misconceptions I would like to address up-front is that we can do zazen the "right" way — and its corollary, the "wrong" way. While the ancient teachings mention "right meditation" along with all the other "rights" in the Eightfold Path, this translators' choice is not meant to indicate that there is an absolutely right way to meditate, as opposed to wrong ways. The "right" in this construction is more like a verb than an adjective — as in righting a capsized boat, in order to continue sailing. Or righting a wheel that is out of round, so that it rolls smoothly. In Zen, we continually correct as we go, when we detect that we are off-course. The vacillation is built into our conscious mind, continually swinging from one end of the spectrum to the other. For example, most practitioners interpret the instructions for zazen as strictly indicating that we are to sit stock still. Don't move. And empty the mind of thoughts. The former command to sit still may comprise a more pedantic obiter dictum in Rinzai praxis than in Soto Zen; the latter notion of the empty mind, a Western misconstruing of Master Dogen's "non-thinking." But most Americans, when first approaching Zen meditation, probably harbor these two ideas as a preconception. To which I say "good luck" with either of these notions, especially in combination. Unless you give yourself permission to move, you will never discover why it is that we sit still. Unless you give yourself permission to think, you may never realize what Dogen meant by "non-thinking." This was Master Dogen's expression of the natural state of attention in zazen. It is neither thinking, nor not thinking, which are opposite sides of the same coin. We sit without relying on thinking, our default go-to in most other areas of endeavor. Feeling GravityTake an example from early childhood. Gravity is said to be the "constant teacher." As a toddler just beginning to transition from crawling to walking, we stand up, we fall down. We stand up again, we fall down again. This natural process may be the origin of the old saying that Dogen adapted, "Fall down seven times, get up eight." I always wonder why he didn't say "get up seven." We don't learn to stand and walk by thinking it through. At that age it is not likely that there is much thinking going on at all, in the ordinary sense of the word. We might better regard it as a process of adaptation. We are learning to navigate and negotiate the causes and conditions of our world, in which gravity is a major player, by trial and error. Which involves intuition and observation rather than intellectual analysis. Similarly, the very act of sitting and facing a blank wall for extended periods of time is a counter-intuitive and counter-cultural act. That is, its simplicity sets aside the usual resort to thinking and analysis, bringing forth the intuitive, instinctual side of awareness. Taken for GrantedOnce we can successfully balance, standing and walking in the field of gravity, it becomes less and less of a concern, and eventually goes subliminal. We are less and less aware of its influence. Until we take up athletics, dancing, or some other activity that challenges our security in the face of gravitational attraction, such as mountain climbing or walking tightropes. Maybe bungie-jumping. As Master Dogen was wont to say, after laying out an analogy to help us grasp the principles of Zen, "All things are like this." That is, we adapt to all sensations over time, becoming less acutely aware of all the multiple stimuli that are acting upon us at any given time. In doing so physically and sensorially, we take more and more of our world for granted, until some natural or manmade disaster comes along as a wakeup call. Stepping BackAnother natural way to de-condition ourselves and recover our awareness of the fundamentals of our existence — like gravity — is to practice zazen. Finding and engaging the most natural posture — upright seated meditation — combined with the most natural breathing pattern, we afford ourselves the best opportunity for discovering, or recovering, our most natural, original mind. As our attention withdraws from our usual ruminations over the ongoing conditions of our lives that we find unsatisfactory (dukkha) — in what Master Dogen referred to as the "backward step" — we naturally return to a more primordial state of awareness, sometimes referred to as "bare awareness," becoming aware of, or remembering, what it is to exist as a sentient being. This "returning to" is the root meaning of "refuge" — refugo, refugare from the Latin — rather than escaping or hiding out, we are returning to familiar territory, our true home. I would say, remembering what it means to be a "fully conscious human being," but Zen's teachings caution us to accept that we are not necessarily fully conscious — in fact that we are largely asleep. The Zen Buddhist proposition regarding consciousness is relatively simple in concept, but difficult in execution, as we say of certain problems and processes in design thinking. That is, we were all asleep last night, and we all woke up this morning, and we all know the difference between the two. Although lucid dreaming sometimes calls the difference into question. One key tenet of Buddhism, that I do not believe is characteristic of any other religious or spiritual practice, is that — as wide awake as we may seem to be at the moment — we are still asleep, to a certain degree. And that we can wake up — fully — as Buddha did. The honorific means, literally, the "fully awakened one." And that we will know the difference. This suggests that we can do this on our own recognizance. We don't need no stinking teachers, as the threefold Lotus Sutra reminds us. Zen is pointing at something natural, primordial, that comes with the territory of being a human being. We look to teachings for guidance, but we cannot depend upon them, nor upon our teachers, for our own insight. In this matter, Zen is truly the ultimate in do-it-yourself, which helps to explain its appeal to the Western mindset of independent thinking, the cult of the individual. As we turn our attention away from the pressing concerns of the social sphere, shining the bright light of Zen meditation upon the personal sphere, the natural process of sensory adaptation will set in. By stressing stillness and sameness over motion and change, we begin to experience motion in the stillness, on deeper and more subtle levels. As Matsuoka-roshi would often say, "Zen goes deeper." At bottom, we embrace the reality that these apparent differences are really not separate, that nothing has really changed from the beginning. It is what it is, what it has always been, and what it will always be: everchanging. Please plan to join our new online and onsite practice opportunities for 2025. My new Thursday evening Advanced Workshop, in particular, is designed to take a deep dive into the more subtle secrets of zazen and Zen.

Well, now we know. That is, we know how the vote tally turned out. What we don't know for sure is what will happen next. As I said in closing the last podcast, we are waiting for the next number of shoes to drop. But many of our fellow citizens are worried that they know all too well what is coming, ranging from your worst nightmare to the final establishment of Valhalla on Earth. But this time the hall will include only the living survivors, not those who died in battle, as in the Norse myth. We have been here before politically, which will be remembered by all but those who voted for the first time in this election, who may have known only the recent history, and thus are doomed to repeat it, according to Churchill (who should know). The sanctification of former President George W. Bush by certain religious groups, particularly in his second campaign and term in office, presaged the elevation of the current President-elect to the status of being anointed by God to lead the country. Vilification by the other side reached similar levels of hysteria, if memory serves. One might regard the entire campaign as an example of confirmation bias on steroids. Both sides interpreted events — crowd size, 50-50 polls, mob hysteria at rallies — as confirming their most cherished hopes for victory. Only time will tell which, if either, is the extreme position out of touch with reality. Midterms may be the next major tilt of the teeter-totter. Meanwhile, let us return to the central focus of Zen — reality itself, the ultimate in vacillation. Like a Taoist shaggy dog story, this may be good, but it could be bad. Through this lens, the question arises as to exactly how important — how relevant — the political landscape can possibly be, to the living-out of our daily Zen lives? It might provide a bit of perspective to recall that Buddha did not buck the political establishment of his time in India. Which, if my poor understanding of history is correct, was based on the caste system — from the Brahmin, or priests at the top of the pyramid — to Sudra, or commoners, peasants and servants, at the bottom. Completely outside the box were the outcasts, out-of-caste members of the society — untouchables — who were employed as street sweepers and latrine cleaners. From an online search we find the following AI-assisted definition: India's caste system is a social hierarchy that divides people into groups based on ritual purity and is passed down through families. It has been in place for at least 3,000 years and is considered one of the world's oldest social hierarchies. The caste system dictates many aspects of a person's life, including their profession, who they can marry, and their social standing. The system apparently does allow for some upward social mobility as it functions in modernity, but it appears that originally, the level into which you were born pretty much determined your fate and future in society — what degree of influence you might have on the social sphere, and its degree of influence on your personal sphere. Needless to say, it was an asymmetrical relationship at best. Buddha was born into the Kshatriya, or warrior caste, second only to the Brahmin. Which makes me wonder if he was basically a late-blooming draft-dodger, or resistant to implementing the military misadventures of his overlords. I am fairly certain that had he been born into the lower classes, or as an untouchable, he would not have been able to carry out his program of establishing Sangha, the original order of monks and nuns. It is notable that many who joined him were of his same caste, some related to Siddhartha Gautama by blood. It is also noteworthy that whoever initially conceived the caste system, they justified it based on a notion of inborn “ritual purity.” Compare to today's stiff-necked, toxic, entrenched and unyielding attitudes on racial and ethnic superiority. In the last segment I encouraged you to vote, without consideration of how you vote or for whom, other than to vote your conscience and for the future. You may have been surprised, as I was, at the outcome, either distressingly disappointed, or irrationally exuberant. In either case, I suggest tempering your expectations as to what may transpire in the next four-year cycle. Again, we have been here, done this, seen this movie, and rode this rodeo, before. The pendulum swings. Though, admittedly, if it swings to far it may break its mount. Uchiyama-roshi, in “Deepest Practice, Deepest Wisdom,” which we have been studying in the Tuesday evening Cloud Dharma readings this year, encourages us to look at our present life as if we had been aborted at the beginning. That way, we would never even have been here to suffer the vagaries of our lifetime. A less extreme thought experiment is to imagine that you were born into another period in history. In any time, if you lived to the full “three-score-and-ten” lifespan of tradition, the passing political pageantry of a given period may or may not have had any substantial effect upon you. You may have perished in the Revolutionary War, or been enslaved during the Civil War, or you may have been so far removed from the fray that you survived relatively unscathed. In the context of geologic time, a human lifetime is equivalent to the blink of a gnat's eyelash in human time. In any case, how you lived and died mattered more within your personal sphere of experience and influence, than did the likely impact of your life on the social sphere. It is an asymmetrical relationship at best, and even more so as regards the natural and universal spheres. You may counter with the “great man” theory of history, but that assumes a lot, is over-simplistic, and in any case applies to very few individuals. Most of us are statistical placeholders. So, what to do? I like the old aphorism, “tend to your own knitting.” Not much actual knitting is going on these days, of course, but it points to the same idea as Matsuoka-roshi's response to the question of how to take up so-called “engaged Buddhism.” He would assume the zazen posture and say: This is the most you can do. A more ancient saying from a Ch'an poem of about 600 CE — third patriarch Sengcan's Hsinhsinming; Trust in Mind — takes this idea to a new, nondual level: In this world of suchness there is neither self nor other-than-selfTo come into harmony with this reality just simply say, when doubt arises, “Not-two.”In this “not-two” nothing is separate, nothing is excluded.No matter when or where, enlightenment means entering this truth. So I suggest that when doubt arises in the context of concerning and confusing developments in the social sphere — or even the natural or universal spheres — that we simply double down on Zen. In Zen, even the opposing political parties and their policies are “not-two.” This is not simple. Nor is it easy. But where are you going to find the answers to the social and political dilemmas we face today, if not in your meditation? Remember the old spiritual, “O sinner man, where you gonna run to? All on that day?” Well, every day is “that day” in Zen. I remember an old friend quoting an Indian guru, repeating over and over: “Every day, every day, every day — you must die a little to become the Buddha!” He would do it with an exaggerated East Indian accent, his voice rising higher and higher with each recitation, until he had you in stitches, your stomach hurting from laughing. But, you say, this is not a laughing matter. Are you so sure? It's either laugh or cry, as we say. Only you can determine whether your life is a melodrama, a tragedy, a comedy, or a tragicomedy. The frustration we feel in our inability to influence the outer spheres of our reality to move in the direction we want to see them evolve stems mainly from the futility of any such endeavor. The most we can do to have a direct influence is to put our attention and effort into the personal sphere, beginning on the cushion. The ripple effect hopefully ensues. The Bodhisattva Vow to “save or free all beings” is not a directive to take to the streets and lead the charge toward the elusive “arc of the moral universe bending toward justice.” MLK was a modern bodhisattva who appreciated the limits of what he could do in this regard, but expressed a deep faith that however futile his efforts might be, this is the inevitable direction of existence. In Buddhism, it is the wisdom of waking up to reality, in which we pray “May all beings be happy.” But with reality as it actually is, with aging, sickness and death baked into the cake. By their example, bodhisattvas help all beings to save themselves from their own ignorance, beginning at home, like any form of charity, and up close and personal. We have to get our oxygen mask firmly in place before we can effectively help anyone else. We do so by sharing with them the excellent method of zazen. In the next episode of UnMind, the last segment of 2024, we will return to our primary focus on the practical aspects of Zen in daily life. The “design intent” of Zen and zazen, so to speak. Stay tuned. 2025 is the 85thanniversary year of Matsuoka-roshi's coming to America. Please celebrate by intensifying your practice.

The DharmaByte™ version of this segment will post in the STO newsletter the first week of November. This UnMind podcast will drop on Wednesday after election day, which is November 5th. The next segment of Election Year Zen will be posted on December 4th, barring unforeseen circumstances such as an outright armed revolution — or “the new civil war” as it has been billed in some quarters — an implied threat depending upon the outcome of the election. In Zen, of course, all future circumstances are unforeseen by definition. Unless you believe in prophecy. In this segment I will encourage you to vote, which I understand may not be necessary. Indeed, I have already voted. I have no desire to influence how you vote in terms of partisan politics, or in favor of which candidate or party conforms more closely to my own view. You should “vote your conscience,” in the current term of art. Or vote for the future — which seems contradictory to Zen's “being in the moment.” Remember, in Zen we do not deny the possibility of the reality of karmic consequences occurring over the “Three Times” of Buddhism — past, future, and present. Low voter turnout is a concern of the professionals in this election and has always troubled me somewhat. I mean, how important is all this political posturing, when a large segment of the populace does not even exercise their right to vote? I do not mean to suggest that 100% turnout would somehow cure the many ills that befall our system of elected government. For one thing the third or more eligible voters who fail to turn out are not likely to be informed on issues, or qualifications of candidates on the ballots, let alone cognizant of the long-term effects of their vote. I feel confident, however, that readers of my DharmaByte™ column and followers of my podcast share a significant enough degree of concern, and have a sufficient grasp of the stakes in the outcome, to make intelligent and caring choices. Otherwise, you probably would not be listening to this. As I mentioned in the last Election Year Zen segment, I believe the most important measure of merit for a party or candidate to take office is the degree of their conformance to the principles of buddha-dharma, as I understand them. Quoting myself: I leave it to you to decide whether or not, and to what degree, your candidate for the highest office in the land, the most powerful secular position on Earth, are in harmony with these compassionate aspirations. But remember that the teachings of Buddhism were never meant to be held up to criticize others, but to reflect back upon yourself and your own behavior. The “mirror of Zen reflects all” — the good, the bad, and the ugly — without discrimination. You and your behavior are also reflected in that Precious Mirror. President Jimmy Carter made news recently, first by surviving to his 100th birthday, then by declaring that he wanted to live long enough to vote, one supposes for the opportunity to elect a non-white non-male president for the first time in history. I met President Carter during his successful run for the presidency, when he visited the office of the consumer research company that I joined in moving to Georgia in 1970. What do you suppose is so important in his mind about this election, that he expressed his intent to vote for or against one of the candidates? As the former president most famous for his contributions to humanity after his term in office, what do you make of this kind of commitment to the democratic process? I think we can assume that he harbors a belief in the long-term viability of the benefits of the democratic republic for the future of the human race, on a larger timeline than the next four-year election cycle. Let us turn back to the acronym: V-O-T-E, with which I titled the opening haiku poem. One interpretation that came to me is: “Vote Once for Time Eternal.” At my age, it becomes obvious that however I vote, it will probably have little effect upon my personal sphere, with what little future time I have left. But it raises a question. What are we voting for, exactly? The current trope is, “for the children.” Commentators and candidates take up the theme, appealing to the sentiment or question of what kind of country we will leave for the next generations of children and grandchildren. I suggest that we expand our time horizon to a relatively infinite scale. In the Lifespan Chapter of the Lotus Sutra, on which I gave a dharma talk recently, the point is that Buddha's physical death, or Parinirvana, is only apparent. The truth is that Buddha is still here, forever, but cannot be seen by ordinary vision. Thus, what Buddha was, or is, has only a circumstantial and temporary connection to the person known as Siddhartha Gautama, the conditioned self of incarnation. Similarly, can we look at the act of voting in this election in a larger context? Not in the light of its connection to the short-term effects it may or may not have on the social sphere in the immediate aftermath, but more in line with the long-term vision expounded by Buddha, or at least attributed to him by his successors? That is, from the perspective of the natural and universal spheres, in which the personal and social are nested? From the “Loving Kindness” or “Metta” sutra, we find the following passage: Let no one deceive another nor despise any being in any stateLet none by anger or hatred wish harm to another Can there be any clearer directive than this as to how to conduct ourselves in the social sphere? Another pair of admonitions comes from the second Five Precepts we receive in the Soto Zen Discipleship ceremony: See only your own faults — Do not discuss the faults of othersKnow self and other as one — Do not praise yourself at others' expense Can we see the current campaign in these terms? Which of the protagonists — if either — is adhering most closely to these guidelines? Which is most blatantly violating them? If we interpret all political dialog as equally duplicitous, equally guilty of deceptive and despising attitudes and behavior, equally wishing harm to others, discussing their faults, and praising themselves at the expense of others, then we have no basis on which to make a choice. But abstaining from voting is, in itself, making a choice. We are all complicit in, if not responsible for, the result. This is not to put all our eggs in the one basket of the social sphere, and the limited sub-sphere of political opinion. We should not be distracted from the natural sphere, in which we are witnessing the long-term consequences of self-centered actions of the species for survival and comfort of an ever-expanding mass of humanity, particularly in the form of climate change. Nor from the universal sphere, where we face potential extinction in the context of the geologic time scale, wherein even the history of the human race appears as a blip on the screen. Why vote at all, when the forces shaping reality have so little regard for our place in it? Mother Nature is no respecter of persons, let alone political parties. Returning to the personal, we can detach, on the level of the absolute, from any implications of the present political climate, while engaging in action — voting, for example — on the level of the relative, understanding that our deeper aspirations may not work out in this lifetime. I think we can presume that Buddha's teachings were not meant solely to affect his followers at the time, but to set the bar for future generations as well. Even though the members of the original Order did not record them in written form for posterity, they went to great lengths to codify and chant them, enabling their memorization and preservation from one generation to the next over a period of four centuries or so. What we are doing in Zen today is, I believe, carrying on this tradition, in the modern milieu and vernacular. We are taking the long-term view. A careful reading of the founding documents of the American experiment, such as the Federalist Papers, the Declaration of Independence, the Constitution and its amendments, the Bill of Rights, et cetera, reveals a similar aspiration. Stated principles of freedom — the right to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness — do not represent temporary expedients, but hopeful wishes for the future generations of people operating on their own free will. Notwithstanding the contemporaneous exclusion of slaves and women from the privileges enjoyed by white men of means, owners of private property. Like much of our retrospective reading of the history of Zen, we have to resist our penchant for interpreting cultures of a couple of centuries or millennia ago as if they were occurring in the light of modern social science. So vote. But I suggest doing so in the spirit of buddha-dharma. Realizing and embracing the reality that you may not see any beneficial effect on your personal life, at least not anytime soon. We take this approach to meditation, which is, after all, the inmost personal experience possible. We set aside expectations as to the positive effects it may bring about, while continuing to hold an aspiration to realization. We approach it with the famous “don't-know-mind” of Zen, assuming that whatever comes of it will be the natural consequence of the manifestation of our Original Mind. We sit not because we have to, but because we get to. We vote, not because we have to, but because we get to. Master Dogen said somewhere that at last, we are left with ambiguity. Enjoy the non-knowing.

In Zen practice we experientially explore the relationship of the One and Many, or Difference and Sameness. This talk fleshes out how these two dimensions of experience play together. ★ Support this podcast ★

In this Teisho, given on July 28, 2024, Rinzan Osho examines case 38 of the Hekiganroku: Fuketsu and the Dharma Seal of the Patriarch." In practicing music, we train to become musicians, learning from those before us and taking the guidance of a teacher. In Zen, we apply these same principles, training to become a human being.

In Zen, words are tools to guide us, but they are not the destination. We will discuss how words can sometimes mislead us in practice, and how we can stay grounded in the direct, lived experience of our true nature rather than getting lost in concepts.

When we mention Zen practice these days, we usually mean sitting in Zen meditation, or zazen. It was not always so. In Bodhidharma's time, “practice” meant observing the Precepts in daily life, discerning to what degree our behavior is comporting to their admonitions. If memory serves, this is found in “The Zen Teaching of Bodhidharma” by Bill Porter, AKA Red Pine. Similarly, when we speak of studying the Dharma, we typically mean reading the written record. It was not always so. When Buddha was alive, the teachings were spoken. You literally had to go listen to live lectures and, later, memorized recitation, to hear the Dharma. This was apparently true of all teachings of all sects at that time; the oral tradition prevailed. It was some four centuries after the Buddha's death, when his utterances were first committed to written form. With the advent of the Internet we have many more opportunities to “hear the true dharma” — a Dogen coinage with a deeper meaning — as expounded by others in the form of podcasts such as UnMind, audiobooks and other modern marvels. But we have to call into question whether we are hearing the Dharma truly. Whether the meaning we extract from listening to the efforts of others to express this subtle and inconceivable teaching is anywhere near to the original meaning that the historical Buddha, Shakyamuni, intended, or for that matter that of any of his many successors in India, China, Korea and Japan, and the other countries of origin. I am not suggesting that we engage in a scholarly examination of the provenance and evolution of the Three Baskets — or Tripitaka in Sanskrit. I propose that we are challenged to attempt to render the meaning in the modern idiom, which involves extracting them from their original cultural context, and embedding them in ours, as well as expressing them in the vernacular, including the language of modern science and philosophy. For one thing, this means divesting the ancient liturgical passages of jargon — primarily the obscure and seemingly mystical terms, mostly from Sanskrit — such as “samadhi” for example — that some contemporary writers seem prone to sprinkle liberally throughout their publications. The downside to this tendency is that it creates an impression that the author actually knows what these terms mean, whether you, dear listener,understand them or not. Another consideration is what is called the “theory-laden” aspect of the semantics of language, as well as our interpretation of direct perception. This conditions the impact that Zen masters' behavior, as well as that of their “turning words” — in Japanese, wato — can have on their students. This concept was introduced to me by George Wrisley georgewrisley.com, a Professor of Philosophy at the University of North Georgia, author of texts on Dogen and Zen, who generously made several technical contributions to my books, “The Original Frontier” and “The Razorblade of Zen.” Professor Wrisley pointed out that, in the now-famous records of Zen students' exchanges with their masters, including extreme gestures they resorted to, in trying to help the student wake up to the reality of Zen — shock tactics such as shouting, and sometimes striking with a fist or staff — each student's reaction to the abuse was entirely dependent upon their belief, or innate “theory,” that the teacher was enlightened, and so could “do no wrong,” to oversimplify the point. Ordinarily, if someone hits you with a stick, your reaction would not be one of profound insight, and undying gratitude for the “grandmotherly kindness” of your abuser. Today it would likely trigger a lawsuit. The ancient ancestors of Zen seem to have an intuitive grasp of the importance of language and its effect on our perception of reality, as indicated in lines from the early Ch'an poems, such as: Darkness merges refined and common wordsBrightness distinguishes clear and murky phrases And: Hearing the words understand the meaningDo not establish standards of your own In Zen, of course, experience comes first, expression a distant second. The interim state, and where we can get it wrong, consists in our interpretation of direct experience, both on the cushion and off. As another ancient Ch'an poem has it: The meaning does not reside in the wordsbut a pivotal moment brings it forth And yet another: Although it is not constructedit is not beyond words Hopefully we have, or will have in future, experienced this pivotal moment. Meanwhile, we are dependent upon words to parse this teaching, and to express it, both to ourselves as well as to others. We can use words to encourage all to go beyond language, and even ordinary perception, in direct experience in zazen. In the face of this design intent of the Dharma, the past efforts to translate it into various languages, and the present effort to paraphrase it into the modern idiom, seem worth the time and trouble. In this spirit, let me share with you my paraphrase of the Prajna Paramita Hridaya Sutra, or Great Heart of Wisdom Teaching, with which, hopefully, you are familiar. This is a work in progress, subject to revision. The typographical layout available on the UnMind podcast page is designed to facilitate scanning and reading the text while chanting it aloud, usually accompanied by drum and gongs. You might follow it with your eyes, while you follow my words with your ears. In this way, you will absorb a multi-sensory experience, which may be more revealing than hearing or reading alone. I will simply recite it here, a capella: ESSENTIAL TEACHING OF PERFECTING WISDOM When any and all Awakening Beingsdeeply and directly experience the process of perfecting wisdom,they clearly see that all five traditional components of sentienceare fundamentally free of permanence and separate self-existence;this insight relieves all unnecessary suffering. Respected seekers of the truth, know that:the apparent form of our world is not separate from its impermanence;impermanence is not separable from appearances;“form,” or particles of matter, is innately “emptiness,” or waves of energy;conversely, emptiness is innately form.All sensations, perceptions, and underlying mental formations,as well as consciousness itself, also manifest as complementary.All existent beings manifest elemental impermanence,imperfection, and insubstantiality:they neither arise nor cease, as they appear to do;they are neither defiled nor pure, but nondual in their nature;they neither increase nor decrease in value or merit.Therefore know that, given the relativity of the material and immaterial,there can be no fixity of form; no tangibility of sensation;no persistence of perception; no infallibility of mental formations;finally, there can be no absolute entity of consciousness.More immediately, the principle of complementarity entails that there can beno eyes, ears, nose, or tongue, as such; and thus, no body;likewise there can be no “mind,” as a separate substance;it follows that, in spite of appearances,there can be no independent functions ofseeing, hearing, smelling, tasting, or touching;nor can there be unconstructed objects of the mind;no independent realm of sight, nor that of any other sense organ;nor any realm of mind-consciousness as a whole. This means that there can be neither ignorance in the absolute sense,nor any extinction of ignorance in the relative sense.Neither can there be sickness, old age and death as absolute states;Nor any extinction of sickness, old age and death as relative states.In light of the implications of this insight,suffering intentionally inflicted upon oneself and / or others can come to an end,stemming as it does from confusion as to root causes;while natural suffering such as aging, sickness, and death cannot end. Thus there can be no isolated “path” leading to cessation of suffering;there can be no essential “knowledge” to gain, in any conclusive sense;and no “attainment,” of any consequential kind. Since there is nothing to attain,all Awakening Beings rely totally on simply perfecting their wisdom;their body-mind drops away, functioning fully with no further hindrances; with no dualistic hindrances, no root of fear is to be found;far beyond confused worldviews,they abide in nondual spiritual liberation. All Awakening Ones of past, present, and futurerely on the perfecting of this deepest wisdom,thereby attaining unsurpassed, complete, insightand letting go of the attainment. Rest assured that perfecting wisdomis the most excellent method;the serene and illuminating discipline; the unsurpassable teaching;the incomparable means of mitigating all suffering;and that this claim is true, not false. We proclaim the transformational perfecting of wisdom: Gone, gone to the other shore; attained the other shore; altogether beyond the other shore, having never left; the other shore comes to us; wisdom perfected! I do not claim to have captured the essence of the original chant. The afore-mentioned Buddhist scholar and Ch'an translator Red Pine, in his modern translation “The Heart Sutra,” tells us that this condensed version of the larger sutra extolling the emptiness of all existence, including the Dharma, was published in China around 900 CE. This was done in order to counter a prevailing trend toward erudition as the indicator of enlightenment, a distortion of the true Dharma that has occurred more than once in history. Another famous example is that of Master Huineng, sixth ancestor in China, who publicly tore up copies of the sutras to make a similar point. Buddha-dharma is manifest in nondual reality as lived, not contained in writing as doctrine. In a future segment of UnMind, we will take up another of my hopeful efforts at paraphrasing the Dharma. Meanwhile I encourage you to try your own hand — or more precisely, your mouth and mind — at putting one of the historical teachings into your own words. You might want to compose your own version of the Precepts, for example. When and if you do so, it may force you to consider the true meaning of these teachings which — through the sheer repetition of chanting them repeatedly over time — begin to sink into our stubborn monkey minds. But the downside of repetition is that they may become rote recitation, in which their deeper meaning and direct relevance to our contemporary lives may be lost. Not to worry, however — combined with the nonverbal silence and deep stillness of zazen, where we can begin to experience the meaning of the expression — we cannot go far wrong.

Our attention is a precious resource. We use it all the time, and so, might forget what a resource it is. Contemplative traditions throughout the ages recognized the preciousness of attention. And also recognized that if we don't put in the effort to train our attention, our attention may get hijacked, scattered, frittered away by the thieves of time or thoughts of worry, disappointment, greed and hatred.With the election news blaring right now. It might feel easier then ever for attention to get hijacked in doom-scrolling, anxieties about the future, worries and fear. It is an on-going practice to notice where our attention is being pulled, and to remember that we have choice about what we are attending to. To remember that attending to joy, compassion, equanimity and loving kindness awaken these qualities in our own hearts and in the world.The intellect can only get us so far, as individuals and as a species. We have other resources and capacities that are under-valued in our capitalist society, but are life-affirming and necessary for our wellbeing. Qualities like spaciousness, presence, clear-seeing, compassion for others, curiosity and play allow us to connect beyond our differences in views and even across species-lines. These qualities potentiate other ways of showing up for ourselves, others and the world—ways of being that empower us to companion uncertainty and awaken to our inter-connectedness.About a thousand years ago, a Zen teacher named Yunmen said to their community: Within heaven and earth, through space and time, there is a jewel, hidden inside the mountain of form. Pick up a lamp and go into the Buddha Hall, take the triple gate and bring it on the lamp.In Zen, we call statements like this koans. Words or phrases that can't be understood with our intellects alone but require a different kind of attention and inquiry. Koans like this, invite us in to ways of seeing that are as multifaceted as this jewel. They invite us into their world, a world of possibility—a world that is right here, inside this one that we are already living. So if you can for a moment, slip below the apparent linearity of time—into the present—and conjure for a moment—MOUNTAIN.Maybe you live by a mountain. Maybe you have only seen pictures of them. Maybe at some point in your life you backpacked or camped or hiked on a mountain. Mountains have presence. To view a mountain, even an image of one can often invoke a sense of inner stillness, a sense of awe or even majesty.In the summer at great vow we would often study the Mountains and Rivers Sutra by Dogen Zenji. In it Dogen says:Mountains possess complete virtue with nothing lacking. They are always safely rooted yet constantly moving. You should study the meaning of always moving. You should study the green mountains. Just because the movement of mountains is not like the movement of human beings, do not doubt that it exists.We would practice sitting like a mountain. My teacher Chozen Roshi said, “If you sit like a mountain everyday for a month, it will change you.” What is it like to sit as a mountain. To sit in your completeness, to sit as though nothing were lacking. To be both safely rooted, connected to the earth, woven into the landscape, deeply connected to yourself as ecotone, as ecology, as a network of being—in constant movement, yet so Here.Mountain practice reminds us that we too are emplaced. Whether you live by mountains, or in the valley, or on the prairie, plains, forest, desert, coast—we are always emplaced. In a network of relations. In this city of sirens and heavy exhaust—a cardinal sings, a bright yellow finch bathes in the neighbors gutter, edible mushrooms grow in the metro park, walnut trees dine with paw-paws creating a ceaseless canopy near the rushing river, where a doe cleans her new born babe, whose fur is covered in white spots, legs still wobbly.Where-ever you find yourself right now, you are emplaced, connected to a geography, a living landscape of relationships. In part it is the quality of our attention that awakens a belonging to this earth community, to the breath of the wind and the space of the sky—Even though in parts of the human mind there appears to be so much division, contempt and fear. Interconnectedness is also true. We are also Mountain, landscape, a web of relatedness—we are also movement, breeze, sky, song. And within this mountain of form—there is a jewel.Within this mountain of form, within this life we find ourselves in, our particular karma—body pain, unanswered emails, childhood traumas, societal divides, violence, fear, disappointment, hope. There is a jewel.Within this body/mind with its beliefs about being unworthy, too much, not-good-enough. There is a jewel.In dharma practice, we are invited to awaken to the jewel of our true nature. To recognize it. To refamiliarize ourselves with it. And to remember that this precious jewel doesn't exist outside of the actual emplacement of our living. The actual events, fears, disappointments, pains.We don't have to go somewhere else to find it. We don't have to transcend this earthly existence. Right here in this mountain of form. This mountain of being. We are spacious clarity, love is our heart's nature—this is the great mystery. For what we are at the core is radiantly present, and vastly undefinable.The buddhist path recognizes that human life throws a lot of shade on this jewel, that we get sucked into believing things about ourselves, others and the world that appears to cover over our radiant jewel. We forget that the mountain is alive, that it is, we are— part of a great re-cycling of energy—that the re-circulating of earth, winds, waters, hope, love + bone is how the mountain continues.In our forgetting, we attempt to make sense of life and death, violence, lack of care—and develop strategies, beliefs are reinforced from caregivers or religious systems, stories are told that aren't true but helped to keep us safe when it seemed like nothing else would.Beliefs like, I alone am responsible for the injustice in the world. I alone should be able to fix this. If only I tried harder, read more, woke up earlier…was more enlightened. Or I'm not good enough. I am a failure. This shouldn't be happening….What we call practice is a path of reckoning with what is true. Coming back to the ground, to the earth, to the body, this mountain of form. Right here—there is aliveness. Right here—mysterious grace. Pure possibility.Then we have the second part of the koan. Use this mountain of form with its precious jewel—pick up a lamp and go to the buddha hall, take the triple gate and bring it on the lamp.It's not enough to recognize the jewel. Now let it shine, share it.It's a ridiculous image. I picture this giant toreii gate smashing through the buddha hall—bringing the temple entrance right here, right next to the buddha, right into our meditation space. Or bringing the buddha hall out through the temple gate. Out into the world.Dharma practice invites us to ask—what is your dream for the world?Sometimes we forget that we get to have one. We are so busy just trying to survive, to manage, to get enough of what we want. Spiritual practice really continues to ask us some version of this—why? What for? So what is your dream for yourself, others—the world? I want to allow what we usually call VOW to be a dream today. Vow can get us stuck in perfection or overly involved in commitmentDream invites imagination, process, experimentation…mystery…It invites us to smash into the buddha hall with all our fears and hopes about the world—to bring everything we've got to our spiritual practice.Dreaming also appreciates that there is uncertainty, much we don't know, that we can't be responsible for everything—but can be responsive.Part of what Yunmen is showing is a kind of radical faith. Yes, this world seems so fixed, but maybe much of what is fixed is your way of thinking about it. Maybe you are taking a limited human view.Or yes our political situation, institutions, society— appear so corrupt, and you don't have to let it corrupt you. Stay connected to this jewel, the spaciousness, clarity, love of your heart's nature. There is possibility, mystery is always right here—even though this may appear to be a mountain of form, it doesn't mean the only thing you can do is summit it, or run away. Maybe there are other options besides conquering or being defeated. Maybe you can walk around, maybe you can meet people at the base, maybe you can meander, sit with a tree, listen to the concerns of the river, get to know the landscape.Maybe we can apply this to our response to the election news or an interpersonal challenge or with our own inner life. Maybe I can hang out with this part of me that gets afraid, maybe I can make space for my grief, maybe I can call a friend and cry together/laugh together/make plans to see each other, maybe I can do something generous for a loved one, maybe I can recommit to showing up for what I care about in a really local way—feeding the neighborhood cat, attending a town hall meeting, volunteering at the library, making a donation to a shelter, getting to know people who work at the local grocery, getting to know my more-than-human community.Part of what I carry on this lamp is a dream for an awakened society. I carry it into and out of the buddha hall, I carry it—even as I meet the very real violence, bigotry, hatred and greed that is part of the manifestation of our world right now, part of my own conditioning. How does the jewel of awakened nature meet the manifestations of greed, violence, fear, loneliness? This is a living question. Something to live into and carry into the world.The koan also gives us practical medicine/instruction. Here are simple things you can do to train/reclaim your attention:Sit as a mountain, connect with the heart center. When we sit as a mountain, we connect to the earth and sky. We are invited to connect with our place, whether we live here or not, we can connect to place where ever we are. We can let ourselves feel emplaced. We can get to know the trees, birds, animals, flowers, rivers, rocks, fossils, breezes, stars and sky that we share this place with.Sit as a jewel—a jewel has many facets, many ways of seeing and responding, a jewel allows there to be complexity and empowers us to live our awakened life. In a very practical way, sitting as a jewel is a practice of appreciating your life. This embodied life. You! Only you can actualize the radiance of your inner light. Recording what you appreciate about yourself each day is a concrete way to nourish the jewelPractice seeing the jewel of each being. Not always easy to do, but such an important aspiration. Instead of judging others (including politicians) can you let yourself appreciate something about them. Or to see beyond their views, to see them as another human being who suffers and is capable of love. Carry your lamp, your dream for the world. Carry it into and out of the buddha hall, your workplace, your bedroom, your car, the establishments you frequent, your relationships. Get to know what helps nourish its light, and make a practice of doing one thing a day to nourish your dream for the world.…I'm Amy Kisei. I am a Zen Buddhist Teacher, Spiritual Counselor, Meditation Coach, Astrologer and Artist. In my Spiritual Counseling Practice, I practice at the confluence of spirituality and psychology, integrating mind, body and spirit. Spiritual Counseling can help you:* Companion Grief + Loss* Clarify Life Purpose* Healing Relational Conflict + Inner Conflict* Work with Shadow Material* Heal your relationship with Eating, Food or Body Image* Spiritual Emergence* Integrate Psychedelic or Mystical Experiences* Move Through Creative Blocks, Career Impasses and BurnoutI am trained in Internal Family Systems (IFS), Dream Work, Hakomi (Somatic Therapy) and Mindful Eating.I also lead a weekly online meditation group, you can read more about below.Monday Night Meditation + Dharma6P PT / 9P ETJoin me on zoom for 40 minutes of meditation and a dharma talk. We are currently exploring embodiment, compassion and the principles of engaged buddhism. All are welcome to join.Zoom Link for Monday NightI currently live in Columbus, Ohio with my partner, we facilitate an in-person meditation gathering every Wednesday from 7P - 8:30P at ILLIO in Clintonville through Mud Lotus Sangha. If you happen to be in Columbus, feel free to stop by!Earth Dreams is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit amykisei.substack.com/subscribe

Following on the previous UnMind series of three segments on aging, sickness and death, the Three Marks of Buddhism's worldview, we will expand our scope to the broader world of international conflict, characteristic of our modern world, where Buddhism's three conditions of existence are also manifested, if in a more universal form. Traditional definitions of these basic aspects of life are universal in scope: impermanence, unsatisfactoriness, and no-self (Skt. anicca, dukkha, anatta). We can see clearly that in today's world, these givens of existence are not warmly embraced on the social level in America, let alone on national or global levels, which surely follows from their avoidance on the personal level. Beginning with Buddhism's “compassionate teaching” – the Dharma – we find that along with the three marks of aging, sickness and death, Buddha promulgated the “Three Poisons,” usually rendered as “greed, anger or hatred, and delusion or folly.” What a witch's brew is conjured, when we mix the six ingredients together. In the context of aging, greed becomes the longing for longevity, the overreliance on meds to avoid the ravages of illness, and extravagant, catastrophic efforts at prolonging life at all costs. Anger and hatred arise when we are denied the ability to forestall aging, when we are overcome by a pandemic, and when we blame widespread death and destruction on others. Delusion and folly ensue when we act on our mistaken beliefs, attacking others for the natural consequences of our collective and individual actions. The unexpected consequences threaten us all, whether in our dotage or full-flowering youth, with the Four Horsemen – plagues, famine, and the predations of war, and not necessarily in that order. Just who is to blame for this situation and how can we hold them accountable? In the worldview of Zen, everything, including charity, begins at home. To quote Master Pogo Possum, “We have met the enemy, and he is us.” The first embrace of reality is to “study the self.” The second is to “forget the self,” as Master Dogen reminds us in his famous teaching, Genjokoan–Actualizing the Fundamental Point.Actualizing the fundamental point of existence requires that we embrace our own aging, sickness and death – the close-up-and-personal reality of impermanence, imperfection and insubstantiality, including our precious self – while recognizing that greed, anger and delusion are fueling the fires of discontent, leading to blaming others for our personal predicament. Sometimes, others are to blame for making things worse, of course, just as we are to blame for making their world more crowded. Stop the world and let me get off. Would it were so simple. The blame game can range from blaming our parents for our birth, on one extreme, to blaming those others most distantly related to us by blood. I read somewhere that the furthest removed any human being can be from any other human, biologically speaking, is something like 26th cousin, if memory serves. One wonders, with the growth in population, whether that tenuous kinship is getting closer, or further apart, as time goes by, with 8 billion people and counting. I also read of a laboratory experiment, some years back, where they used the classic maze of rats to find out what happens when you simply keep adding rats to the maze, without letting any escape. At one point of increasing density, the rats begin attacking each other. They “blame” the others for their own discomfort, apparently. The analogy to human population should not be lost on anyone. The anxiety and outright hostility associated with immigration on a global basis is too obvious a parallel to ignore. Or we can aim all of our blame at the political system, or the candidate du jour. Now that the “debate of the century” has landed with a thud, the rats are having a hard time deciding which of the two leaders of the rat pack is most at fault. Much of the anger and hysteria we witness on ideological and political fronts of the public discourse seems motivated by underlying fears, exacerbated by perceived worsening conditions, including density of population. The identified “foreigners” – bringing unintelligible languages, peculiar cultural customs, and bizarre belief systems – induce anxiety, stereotyping and suspicion amongst native populations, triggering the threat of the privileged being “replaced” by them in the great scheme of things. This probably arises from a tribal, protective social instinct, linked to the survival of “our kind.” Hyped to the max by political opportunists, into the bargain. But on a more personal level, this anxiety, amplified by mob hysteria, surely finds its origin in the triple threat of aging, sickness and death, that is inborn with each individual. Birth is the leading cause of death, after all, like it or not. This perceived threat, however irrational, is tied to what biologists call the survival instinct, or imperative. Reality is not a respecter of persons. But biology is designed to privilege survival of the species over all comers, adapting to ever-changing circumstances. Natural and artificial changes in context often outpace and outmaneuver biology, engendering threats to survival, to cycles of “extinction panic,” or to actual extinction of the species, potentially including humanity. Cultural evolution – our ability to pass on technological advances to the next generation, and their ability to further improve on their cultural inheritance – is ensconced in the social sphere. But it likewise runs into trouble when it is not agile enough to keep up with the rate of change of conditions to which it is adapting, in the natural and universal spheres. Such as climate change. Aye, there's the rub. “Survival of the fittest” is the shorthand catchphrase for dumbing down Darwin's elegant and complex theory on the “Origin of Species.” To find a cogent example of society's collective resistance to this notion that we privilege the fit, we need look no further than the recruiting, drafting and conscription of young men and women – the “fittest” – into the modern military – the main mechanism oriented to societal survival – across the globe. Civilian leaders, and those at higher command levels, manage to keep a safe distance from the front lines, so as to return to fight another day, one assumes. But the survival of the oldest is not Nature's way. It is not natural to put younger members of the species at risk to protect older members. Witness the wolf pack. This biological imperative dictates an age-related triage, protecting those most likely to survive, to survive longer, and to reproduce. Yet humans do the opposite in wartime, and did it again in the face of the pandemic, by sending younger first responders into the fray, while protecting elderly and senior leaders through isolation, quarantine and access to medical care. Notwithstanding how miserable a failure that effort turned out to be, the point is still well-taken. Of course, from a practical perspective, the young provide the necessary numbers, and the vitality, needed on the frontlines. Even if senior members of society were willing to take point in crisis conditions, the question would be whether or not they are able to. Setting aside such considerations of the neurotic societal implications of turning younger generations into cannon and virus fodder, what will it take to finally bring about world peace? Can we beat our swords into plowshares, turn intercontinental ballistic missiles into spaceships, cyberwar into cyberfun? The current national debate is styled as a contest between democratic governance “of the people, by the people, and for the people,” striving toward a “more perfect union” of the republic; versus power elites exerting autocratic control over a hopelessly divided populace. The appeal of the latter is understandable for the “haves,” those who already enjoy a relative elite status of economic and social privilege. They stand to come out on top, liberated from the messy business of compromise with those on the bottom end of income equality. Likewise, the uneasiness of the “have-nots” is easy to understand. They see themselves as already victimized by the unlevel playing field, touted as equal opportunity for all. This, it would seem, is the real wall that is being built, not on the border, but right down the middle of the country. Its building blocks consist of the institutions installed by the founding fathers, rearranged to reassert the original privilege of white, land-owning males. But is all this – the daily fare being served up by the media and opposing forces – really the root of the problem? Whether or not we believe in an eternal soul, or reincarnation, as did the ancient Egyptians, Greeks and Hindus, or resurrection, as do modern Christians, we finally come to face our mortality, in person. In Zen, the only mate who will accompany us to the grave is our deeds. Whatever wealth, honor, or powers of reasoning we have accumulated in managing and manipulating the vagaries of behavior and vicissitudes of fortunes encountered in life, they serve us little in the face of death. The same may be said of family, though better to die surrounded by loved ones than alone, or surrounded by hostiles, I suppose. On the cushion we sit “without relying on anything” as Master Dogen reminds us in his version of “Needle for Zazen (Zazenshin),” including all the tricks, trash and trinkets we have assembled in our toolkit. Try as we might to think our way to enlightenment, or to reason ourselves into insight, we find ourselves failing again and again. Finally we must surrender to the chaos of not knowing, and abandon reliance on reason itself, spawn of philosophy and the other kind of Enlightenment. We find verification of our practice in “making effort without aiming at it.” Needless to say, this is a very uncomfortable place to find ourselves, at a pass that is not really negotiable, in any ordinary sense. All the stages of grief prove futile in the face of the relentless process and progress of biology. We need to confront reality when we are young and vigorous, as in “Stamp life and death on your forehead, and never let it out of your mind,” paraphrasing a truth long lost to attribution. Life takes its meaning in the context of death. If you find that too morbid, just imagine what life would be like if we did not die. Its meaning would be entirely different, and not entirely positive. When the grim reaper arrives, we may want to embrace her / his relentless, unsympathetic and unforgiving scythe, as being not at all different from the sword of Manjusri, hopefully cutting through our final delusions. Just as hopefully, the passing pageantry of life, particularly the concurrent social-political dimension, will have little or nothing to do with the circumstances surrounding the last breath we take. Preferable to die on the cushion, of course. * * *Elliston Roshi is guiding teacher of the Atlanta Soto Zen Center and abbot of the Silent Thunder Order. He is also a gallery-represented fine artist expressing his Zen through visual poetry, or “music to the eyes.”UnMind is a production of the Atlanta Soto Zen Center in Atlanta, Georgia and the Silent Thunder Order. You can support these teachings by PayPal to donate@STorder.org. Gassho.Producer: Shinjin Larry Little

Returning from the political fray to the realities of daily life on Earth 2 — as the current popular trope would have it — I would like to delve into one of the teachings of Buddhism and Zen that may contribute to its misperception as being overly pessimistic. The “three marks” of dukkha, the Sanskrit word usually translated as “suffering,” or “unsatisfactoriness.” Usually, “dukkha” is related to specific aspects of life, specifically “aging, sickness and death,” as the three characteristics of all sentient existence. From the Tricycle web site we find: The Buddha taught that all phenomena, including thoughts, emotions, and experiences, are marked by three characteristics, or “three marks of existence”: impermanence (anicca), suffering or dissatisfaction (dukkha), and not-self (anatta). These three marks apply to all conditioned things—that is, everything except for nirvana. According to the Buddha, fully understanding and appreciating the three marks of existence is essential to realizing enlightenment. (It is a schema that is accepted in both Theravada and Mahayana schools, but more emphasized in the former.) Here we find a much broader, less personal definition of the three than “aging, sickness and death,” but as human beings, we are naturally more concerned with how they apply to our wellbeing most immediately and intimately, than how they function as universal principles. It seem to me that much of the chaos and uncertainty that we are currently witnessing in the social sphere is animated by the unsuccessful resolution of our personal relationship to these three marks, along with the built-in resistance to embracing them fully, with any measure of equanimity.As an octogenarian, I can personally testify to the inevitability of the first two, and their power taking precedence over all other dimensions of daily life, in due time. All you have to do is live long enough to find out for yourself. However, the Buddha apparently came to this conclusion, or confrontation, relatively early in life, in his mid-thirties, when we would expect him to be in the prime of life, though 2500 years ago, life expectancy was not what it is today. Let us consider each of them one at a time, from a problem-definition and problem-solving perspective. In passing, let me recall that the least emotionally-laden definition of dukkha is, simply, “change.” Nothing personal about it. Buddhists may be said to believe these teachings, rather than “believing in” them, as some of the online commentary would have it. As with all of the “compassionate teachings,” one's own first-person, experiential evidence will drive home the validity and veracity, as well as the long term priority, of these findings and conclusions of the Buddha. The only question becomes how – how do we comport ourselves in the context of these dominant aspects of our existence? The existence of suffering itself Buddha said we are to fully understand. And from the above quote, that understanding must of necessity begin with recognizing and appreciating these three most immediate considerations of life, beginning with aging, or impermanence. It does not help much to place our own impermanence in the context of universal impermanence. Misery may love company, but not that much.It might help to consider the question, When does aging begin? At the moment of birth? At the moment of conception? The current flap over in-vitro fertilization – as part of the larger ethical and ideological debate around all things related to birth control, or the larger category of reproductive health in general – illustrates that aging is actually well under way before conception. The eggs and sperm involved have limited viability, aging out of their own, micro-world shelf lives. Owing to a welcome assist from modern medicine, many of us can expect to live increasingly long lives, with notable exceptions in the form of further life-threatening causes and conditions attributed to the very success, and lack of due diligence, of the human species. In Zen, we hear various expressions such as “every moment reincarnation,” from my teacher, for instance. We read Master Dogen's framing of birth and death as “expression(s) complete this moment.” Buddha himself was said to have mentioned something to the effect that, owing to impermanence, there must be permanence. His monks were said to have been happy to hear this. One of the theories that I have read, attempting to explain the success of Buddhism spreading throughout history in its countries and cultures of origin, is that Buddha's followers were so relentlessly happy. So there is a kind of pervasive optimism in Zen and Buddhism, which is hard to explain in the context of impermanence and aging, let alone sickness and death. But just consider, in your own mind for a moment, the possibility that there were no aging. That we would all remain “forever young,” in the memorable phrase from the Bob Dylan tune. What would be the implications, both long- and short-term, of this reversal of biology? What if we did not age? (We can leave the discussion of illness and dying to upcoming segments.) Buddha rejected such speculation as ultimately futile, if taken seriously, but here, we want to treat it as a mere “thought experiment,” for the sake of shedding light on the actual causes and conditions of our existence, no harm no foul. In design circles this is a recognized process, called “synectics,” engaging in the seemingly irrelevant on the chance that it might turn out to be relevant. It is related to “Hegel's Dialectic,” seeing the existing “thesis,” a present manifestation of reality as impermanent, enabling our recognition and even ability to predict the emergence of the “antithesis” on the event horizon. The model goes on to predict the merging of thesis and antithesis into the new thesis, which arises, abides, changes and ultimately decays and disappears with the next cycle. And so on, and on, forever. Not coincidentally, this terminology of “merging” is used discerningly by Master Dogen in his envisioning the process of Zen realization in Shobogenzo Bendowa, if memory serves (emphasis mine): In stillness, mind and object merge in realizationand go beyond enlightenment If we consider aging in this startling, single-point reflection, how does that look? Buddha says, toward the end of his First Sermon: My heart's deliverance is unassailableThis is the last birthNow there is no more becoming If indeed it is possible to come to the end of “becoming,” is that tantamount to the end of aging? Is the essence of what Buddha and Dogen realized is that everything “else” is obviously aging and becoming something else? And must include the one observing the change. And that it has always been thus, from the very beginning. So what could go wrong? Just consider: If the very conditions that we all naturally worry about – all too often to an excessive, obsessive degree – have always obtained in the universe, long before our birth in this lifetime, and likely to persist and pertain long after our death; how can there be anything fundamentally amiss? Not that it's the best of all possible worlds, thank you Pangloss. But really, as a design-build professional, I can fantasize that I was in charge, and made the primordial decisions that determined that, if there is to be sentient existence, what will that look like? How do I make that work? But most ordinary human beings do not have that kind of hubris. They palm the fundamental questions off to a divine entity, the wizard's intent hidden behind the curtain of appearances. We simply accept the givens, try to understand and embrace them, and go from there. But there must have been a “before” – before the Big Bang, or the alternative Bounce. There must have been something – the “sound of silence,” and maybe nascent thought — preceding the “Word.” But then, all heaven and hell breaks loose, and here we are. In this moment. None of this explains anything, of course. Whatever framework we have been given to comprehend the brute fact of existence was totally made up by others. You learned that. And it can be unlearned. Zazen seems mainly a process of unlearning what we think. The very idea and ideal of longevity has only one value in this context, according to my feeble grasp of Zen's teachings: A better chance to wake up! In witnessing – or better, contemplating – aging, I am oft reminded of the unforgettable couplet from musical Zen master Dylan: Ah but I was so much older thenI'm younger than that now My sense of the relevance of aging and impermanence in the context of meditation and Dharma teachings is that, like the questionable linearity of the so-called “arrow of time” in theoretical quantum mechanics, taking the view that time is passing in a direction may be entirely arbitrary. What we may perceive — and more problematically, what we may interpret — as aging, may indeed be true, but only half the reality, as with all dualistic thinking. Perhaps we are growing younger at the same time, disencumbering ourselves with learned inhibitions, rules and regulations that no longer apply, as we mature to embrace emptiness. My idle conjecture on aging represents yet another variation on the theme of thinking independently and acting interdependently. This bears repetition: Sitting in zazen with the Zen community, we are nonetheless sitting alone. Any time we sit alone in zazen, we are joining the larger community of Zen practitioners. Somewhere in the world – at any time, day or night – someone is sitting in Zen meditation. We need flexibility of mind to approach Zen practice in this nondual sense, outside of time and space. In the next UnMind segment, we will take up the more abrupt, if no more tangible than aging, mark of “sickness,” which for some reason is not called out as such in the early translation. Maybe the prevalence of illnesses of all kinds was so much a part of daily life that it did not emerge as a perceivable isolate in the social awareness of the time. Meanwhile, as Buddha himself suggested, don't take my word for any of this. Check it out for yourself, on the cushion, and off.* * *Elliston Roshi is guiding teacher of the Atlanta Soto Zen Center and abbot of the Silent Thunder Order. He is also a gallery-represented fine artist expressing his Zen through visual poetry, or “music to the eyes.”UnMind is a production of the Atlanta Soto Zen Center in Atlanta, Georgia and the Silent Thunder Order. You can support these teachings by PayPal to donate@STorder.org. Gassho.Producer: Shinjin Larry Little

Joel Bouchard will discuss the topic of getting in the flow with me today. Joel Bouchard is a doctoral student in psychology at Liberty University in Virginia, a multi-instrumentalist record producer, author, painter, Army veteran, business leader, local government official, and host of the philosophy podcast From Nowhere to Nothing. His podcast explores complex themes such as the messy, misapplied, and contradictive nature of tribalism, commitment as a concept through ontological and ethical paradigms, and the life-encompassing yet nuanced concept of work. Joel's diverse background includes discussions on shadow from the perspectives of physics, mythology, psychology, and cultural tradition, as well as debates on substantivalism and relationalism in defining locations. His intellectual curiosity extends to examining Donald Hoffman's ideas on reality and consciousness from “The Case Against Reality,” and exploring metaphysical, epistemological, and ontological aspects of consciousness through documentary scenes. Joel also engages in abstract discussions on the ontological impact of the present and delves into the past from both metaphysical and historical perspectives. His multifaceted experiences and deep philosophical inquiries make him a dynamic and insightful voice in contemporary philosophical discourse. Listen & Subscribe on: iTunes / Stitcher / Podbean / Overcast / Spotify Contact Info Website: https://jbouchard.podbean.com/ Most Influential Person My mom Effect On Emotions I would say that I've become better at expressing my emotions. My friends refer to me as the robot because I generally tend to be pretty unemotional. And, you know, that's good. It's good to be even-keeled, but it can also be negative if you freeze or shut down when in negative circumstances. So, the biggest impact for me is that it's helped me express happiness and joy and also to be able to identify with emotions without getting caught up in them without being angry. I can identify that this is an angry emotion and a justified emotion. Then I can decide how I should act with this information. Thoughts On Breathing As someone who's pretty new to meditation, breathing is something that I still struggle with a little bit. They tell you that you're not supposed to breathe loud, but I always find myself breathing loud because I'm using that to focus my attention. In Zen meditation, this is a subject of controversy. Some Zen masters say you can count your breaths, while others say don't. So I mix the two. You know, for the first 10, I count the in-breath and the out-breath, one, two, and then for the next 10, I only count the out-breath. So in one in two, then after that, I go to not counting. But I find myself still breathing very deeply. I think it helps with relaxation and focus. Sometimes, it can steal attention away from the internal focus on what's happening in the mind. Bullying Story I believe bullying is a problem rooted in a lack of mindfulness on the bully's part. I have a story about being mindful from the other side. During my time in the army, we had an exercise in basic training where we used pugil sticks, like on American Gladiators, to fight each other. The drill sergeant insisted everyone participate, but I didn't volunteer because I didn't want to fight. At the end, the drill sergeant singled me out to fight the biggest guy, nicknamed the Widowmaker, who was six foot five and 280 pounds. Though I didn't want to fight, I had been mindful and observed the fights closely. When it was my turn, I pretended to cower, turned to the side, and ducked down. As he came close, I jammed the end of my stick into his helmet, causing him to fall. I won the fight. This experience taught me that mindfulness can help you navigate difficult situations, even when facing a bigger, more imposing opponent. Suggested Resources Book: The Three Pillars of Zen by Roshi Philip Kapleau App: Headspace Related Episodes An End To Upside Down Thinking; Mark Gober Emotional Intelligence Insights; Harvey Deutschendorf Dream and Visualize For Authenticity; Mary Rechkemmer-Meyer Offer From Bruce Seeking relief from stress and anxiety? As a coach and hypnotist, I'm here to help you conquer your inner critic so you can confidently thrive. Email me at bruce@mindfulnessmode.com with ‘I Am Determined' for a free coaching session. Let me help you pave the way to a fulfilling life.

In looking forward and anticipating the future of Zen in America, once again it may behoove us to take a look in the rearview mirror. According to research reported by one of my future lineage successors – in a years-long series of talks he gave on the history of the transmission of Zen – things did not always go swimmingly when the big cheese finally kicked the proverbial bucket, to mix a metaphor or two. The resultant chaos was not quite as bad as that brought on by the “To the strongest!” gambit attributed to Alexander the Great, settling the question through violence rather than voting, an approach that has gained fresh meaning in recent political campaigns. In fact, one might reasonably question the validity of any aging, declining leader naming their own successor in the first place, in the face of diminishing mental acuity and physical vigor. What part of “declining” do we not understand? How many political leaders have we witnessed who hang onto power way beyond what the dictates of the natural process of aging-out would suggest? Matsuoka -roshi was born in November of 1912 and died in November of 1997. He was and is my “root” teacher, in the common parlance of Zen. It is his legacy and lineage that we celebrate during Founder's Month each November, and which I have done all in my power to preserve, protect, and to propagate. Kongo-roshi, or Richard Langlois as I knew him in the 1960s, was O-Sensei's immediate successor at the Zen Buddhist Temple of Chicago (ZBTC). He was born in 1935, but died unexpectedly in 1999, only two years after O-Sensei's parinirvana. This unfortunate turn of events brings to mind the oft-misquoted but always pertinent couplet: The best-laid schemes ‘of mice and men' gang aft a-gley,and lea'e us naught but grief and pain, for promised joy Thank you, Robert Bobby Burns, from his poem “To a Mouse.” This is not to suggest that planning, as such, is totally useless, or generally ineffective, but any succession planning is clearly a special case. In Zen's historical record, the cohort left to pick up the pieces and carry on were comprised of more than one individual, in many cases. It appears there is a common pattern of two or more Zen successors stepping in and divvying up the role previously played by the retiring guiding teacher. They were often of very different personality types, bringing different sets of skills and attitudes to the table, not necessarily the same as their mentor's. This is also common in the business world, when the CEO is replaced by less-experienced executives. It took me a few decades to realize that I am not Matsuoka-roshi, and that my students are certainly not me. I could not simply continue doing my best imitation of Sensei, oblivious to the fact that my students were approaching Zen practice very differently from my own early days. I had to have flexibility of mind to innovate, not just to imitate. Nor can I compare myself to Okumura-roshi – who officiated my formal transmission –with his historical roots in traditional Zen training in Japan. His successor Hoko Karnegis was recently chosen – how and why, I have no idea, and do not need to know. But I do know that she, who generously wrote the foreword to my second book, “The Razorblade of Zen,” is definitely not a Shohaku clone. The character of the community changes with any change in leadership. But its mission and reason for being need not. I recognize that as founder and guiding teacher of ASZC and STO, I am a “transitional figure.” As are we all – in the ultimate, biological sense – given the inevitability of “aging, sickness and death.” Matsuoka-roshi was certainly a transitional figure, becoming a living example of the “man without a country.” He was no longer fully Japanese, nor was he completely American. It should be noted that all truly transitional figures necessarily appear as somewhat ridiculous, in the eyes of their contemporaries. It becomes necessary to embrace certain contradictions, many that are counter-intuitive and counter-cultural. If you don't quite get the point, just picture myself, or yourself, fully enrobed, walking into a Starbuck's. These transitional aspects of grafting a living tradition onto a new host culture can be considered a necessary and temporary period of adjustment. It is going to entail, and even require, independent thinking, as well as Interdependent action. Perhaps more than anything, it will require focus and perseverance, keeping the eye on the prize, or at least on the ball, in light of the many diversions and apparent obstructions in the path. The Ch'an poem Sandokai–Harmony of Sameness and Difference puts it succinctly: Not understanding the Way before your eyes how do you know the path you walk? Buddha himself is said to have recognized the many blind alleys and dead ends that can get in the way of the simple pursuit of the only truth that matters. In “The Teaching of Buddha,” chapter two, “The Way of Practical Attainment” we find the following: 1. in the search for truth there are certain questions that are unimportant. Of what material is the universe constructed? Is the universe eternal? Are there limits or not to the universe? In what way is this human society put together? What is the ideal form of organization for human society? If a man were to postpone his searching and practicing for Enlightenment until such questions were solved, he would die before he found the path. Like his successors in India, as well as those in China, Japan, and the Far East, the clarity of focus comes through loud and clear, in the context of the seductions of the universal, natural and social spheres. The ancestors of Zen are all speaking with one voice, as far as to where we are to direct our personal attention is concerned. Perhaps this singular emphasis – on avoiding the pitfalls and temptations of following cultural memes and tropes as to what is truly important in life – is even more critical in modern times. When we finally join a fully functioning Zen community, we naturally become possessive and protective of it. We worry about its stability, from both fiscal and psychological perspectives. If its leadership appears unstable, we hesitate to invest too much time and effort into participating in it, both from personal practice and social administrative perspectives. These are natural impulses, and rational as well. We have all witnessed too many betrayals of our trust and confidence by misguided leaders of supposed religious and educational institutions, in America and elsewhere. This is why harmony is the main watchword for the Zen community. And the main reason its members are encouraged to be circumspect in discussing the supposed faults of others. But I want to impress upon you a deeper confidence in Zen. Not to worry — Zen will survive. It was here before you were, and it will be here after we are all long gone. Zen has survived, and even thrived, for over two and a half millennia, and that is only the recorded history of it. It surely began long before Buddha's life, and will survive as far into the future as the human species, which, admittedly, is looking a little iffy just now. Zen will survive because it is not “Zen.” Zen is just a name, a label that we throw at something that has no name. This discovery of Buddha, even in our times, is primordial. It is nothing more than “waking up,” in the most universal, deepest and broadest sense of the word. It is awakening to reality. That simple fact may need our protection, from the vicissitudes of current cultural ignorance. But it comes with the territory of being a fully conscious human being. It will not go away with time, as long as humans survive. This is why the definitive dimension of sangha is “harmony.” Fostering disharmony in the Zen community is a cardinal sin. As Master Elvis reminds us, “We can't go on together, with suspicious minds.” The sangha itself is like a cloud – after my dharma name, “Great Cloud” – constantly evaporating and recondensing. If you do not think so, stick around for a while. We have had literally thousands of people come and go over the decades, and sometimes return after decades. That they come and go is no fault of our own, or of theirs. It is merely the manifestation of their life stories, the cloud endlessly evaporating and recondensing. In Matsuoka Roshi's collected talks, “The Kyoksaku” and “Mokurai,” he shares his perspective on the future of Zen, including the meaning of a Zen temple. We are carrying forward his mission of propagating Zen in America, on the premise that he expressed, that Zen is relatively “dead” in Japan; and would find its rebirth in America: A Zen temple is not a debating place — especially about Zen. Zen was never meant to be debated. It was meant to come into your lives to quiet them and for you to live as a Buddha. If you know Zen, your voice will be quiet and your words will be few. Great wisdom does not need many words to express itself. “Those who speak do not necessarily know.” Master Dogen also mentioned of the tendency of individuals to want to express their understanding of Zen to all who will listen, including the local guiding teacher. It is a known issue in history, and one of many such attitudes that have persisted down to today. But if we see it for what it is – the natural desire of a person to have their own understanding of Zen recognized, and their efforts in support of the temple appreciated – this, too, can be accommodated in our ongoing program of propagation, as a teaching or learning moment. Buddha himself was said to have been assailed by an earnest young seeker, who prevailed upon him to answer the “Ten Cosmic Questions” from what passed for the philosophy of the times: how it all began, how it will all end, et cetera. Which Buddha considered hopelessly speculative, somewhat specious, and not at all to the point of addressing the real problem at hand, that of dukkha. The young man insisted that unless Buddha answered, he, the young man, could not accept him as his teacher. Shakyamuni is said to have pointed out to this sincere but presumptive aspirant that he – Buddha, was under no obligation to be his – the young man's, teacher. And he – the young man, was under no obligation to be his – Buddha's, student. We have adopted a similar motto for our practice centers, which was initiated by an early Rinzai pioneer to America, Sokeian-roshi: “Those who come here are welcome; those who leave are not pursued.” We have a similar middle-way approach to donations, first expressed by our initial practice leader of Southwind Sangha, our Wichita affiliate: “No donation required; no donation refused.” All of the above represent variations on the theme of thinking independently and acting interdependently. Sitting in zazen with the Zen community, we are still sitting alone. Any time we sit alone in zazen, we are joining the larger community of Zen practitioners. Somewhere in the world – at any time, day or night – someone is sitting in Zen meditation. We need flexibility of mind to approach Zen practice in this nondual sense, outside of time and space. In the first UnMind segment in June, we will return briefly to our exploration of “election year Zen,” with whatever challenges appear in the campaign in the interim. Until then... just keep sitting.

In this Teisho, given on March 25th, 2024, the third day of Chobo-ji's Spring Sesshin, Rinzan Osho examines case 18 of the Hekiganroku: Emperor Shukusō Asks About the Style of the Pagoda. In Zen, it is said that we must die to be free. What is it to die? What remains when we do die? What is it to let life spring forth from this great wellspring and to be seamless with all things?

In the next three segments of UnMInd we will take up the Three Jewels, Gems, or Treasures: Buddha, Dharma, and Sangha - the highest values of Buddhism - from the perspective of their design intent. Buddha practice - time on the cushion dedicated to recovering our original, awakened nature ‑ is the most important dimension in the Zen, or meditation schools. Dharma study – reviewing and contemplating the teachings transmitted by Shakyamuni and the ancestors down to the present day ‑ comes second in importance and emphasis, as an adjunct to meditation. While participation in and service to the Sangha ranks third in the tripartite hierarchy, all three legs of the stool are considered essential to leading a balanced life of Zen. It will be most appropriate to take them in reverse order, beginning with Sangha, or community, the one most fully integrated with the social dimension. The Refuge Verse, usually chanted on a daily basis, and translated variously, reads: I take refuge in Buddha I take refuge in Dharma I take refuge in SanghaI take refuge in Buddha the fully awakened OneI take refuge in Dharma the compassionate teachingsI take refuge in Sangha the harmonious communityI have completely taken refuge in BuddhaI have completely taken refuge in DharmaI have completely taken refuge in Sangha The act of taking refuge may be interpreted in a variety of ways; from the New Oxford American Dictionary: • a condition of being safe or sheltered from pursuit, danger, or trouble: he was forced to take refuge in the French embassy | I sought refuge in drink. • something providing shelter: the family came to be seen as a refuge from a harsh world. • an institution providing safe accommodations for women who have suffered violence from a spouse or partner. Its etymological origin is defined as: late Middle English: from Old French, from Latin refugium, from Latin re- ‘back' + fugere ‘flee'. Over the two-and-a-half millennia of the history of Buddhism, the communities of monks and/or nuns originating in India may indeed have comported with all of the above definitions at one time or another, with the possible exception of seeking refuge in drink, which may be more characteristic of lay practice. Certain modern Zen masters have been known for their fondness for sake and beer, as was Matsuoka roshi. The dictionary definitions share a decidedly fraught connotation of seeking “shelter from the storm,” to quote Master Dylan. But when we look at the role of the Zen community in the context of modern-day America, we can see that taking refuge in the sangha has less wary, socially positive functions as well – beginning with that of providing community, itself. True community is an increasingly rare commodity in today's mobile society, where we as householders may or may not know our neighbors; and if we do, we may not for long, as they, or we, may move several times in one lifetime. In ancient India, China and the Far East, people may have been more likely to stay put in their birthplace, unless they were driven to flee danger or trouble. Today, we have displaced persons approaching an estimated 110 million, the largest refugee population in history. When we analyze the design intent of western Zen communities, which manifest a mix of traditional protocols and adaptations to modernity, we have to take into account that the monastic model is no longer the predominant form, outnumbered as it is by the expanding cohort of lay householders. People of all walks of life are taking up the practice of Zen in their daily lives ‑ including participation in programs offered by Zen centers and temples in their neighborhoods, or within a reasonable commute ‑ returning to families and professional livelihoods, partaking of practice opportunities when and where they can fit them in. I call this “guerilla Zen”: we hit it and run; hit it and run; engaging more formal training with a simpatico group, while sustaining daily practice at home, at work, and at play. Everything is eventually subsumed under Zen. Churches and other associations share this paradoxical characteristic, caricatured by the “Sunday saints, Monday sinners” trope. Zen centers do not typically preach morality from the pulpit, but offer some degree of sanctuary in which members can retrench, to reenter the fray of daily life from a more balanced perspective and stance. This is reflected in the Sixteen Precepts of Zen, which we will not detail here, but include such social parameters as not killing, stealing or lying, not indulging in gossip, and so on.The key characteristic by which a Zen sangha is defined is captured in the expression, “harmonious community.” We all belong to, or partake in, various communities and subgroups in our personal, family, and professional lives, but not all of them would meet the high bar of harmony that is associated with a Zen community, or that of a church. We are expected to leave our lesser angels at the doorstep, and aspire to a higher level of behavior, particularly with regard to our fellow seekers of awakened awareness. Compared to other socially-determined groups, such as those found in retirement homes, extended care facilities, private clubs and gated communities, one difference is that a sangha welcomes all comers, however diverse in terms of age, gender, income, background and education, or other social factors by which groups tend to discriminate. “Birds of a feather” and all. Zen groups assume that members are like-minded in their pursuit of the Dharma, and it quickly becomes apparent when newcomers join a sangha for all the wrong reasons. Attendees joining Zen retreats or undertaking residential practice are analogized to stones tumbling in a stream, rubbing all the rough edges off, until we become smooth and polished – harmonious - in our interactions with others. Several dimensions of the Zen environment yield clues to its design intent, and where it may differ from other communities. These will vary from group to group, based on the history and traditions unique to each lineage, the legacy of its founders, and, of course, personalities. Generally, we are encouraged to overlook minor superficial differences in protocols and procedures, focusing on the underlying intent of propagating Buddha practice - meditation; and promulgating Dharma – study of the teachings; the two highest-ranking values in Zen. Let's look at a few characteristic behavioral forms and features to be found in multiple “practice places of buddha-tathagatas everywhere,” to borrow a phrase from Master Dogen: OBSERVING SILENCEAn emphasis on observing long periods of silence is unusual in most public gatherings, noting exceptions such as monastic assemblies devoted to vows of silence, or Quaker congregations. Restraining speech can feel awkward, even artificial; but in time it becomes a welcome source of respite and relief from the usual pressure to engage in small talk in most social and fellowship settings. In Zen, special attention is given to being mindful while others are meditating, taking heed to move quietly, as well as foregoing unnecessary speech. MAINTAINING SIMPLICITYVisual simplicity complements acoustical silence in the form of clutter control, straightforward layout and organization of the space and furnishings, and movement through it. The meditation hall, or zendo, is a particular focus of this principle, but it applies to all the shared public spaces of the facility. The catchphrase is “leave no traces” - which has personal meaning in terms of attachment and aversion - but is manifested in communal environs by putting things back where they belong, fluffing sitting cushions, straightening shoes on the shoe shelf, and so on. Emphasis is on reducing distraction that might intrude upon or interfere with the experience of others. CLEANINGPart of the process of achieving simplicity is the ritualization of temple cleaning, in Japanese, soji. Matsuoka-roshi would often say, “Cleaning is cleaning the mind.” The very act of decluttering the space relieves the mind of mental clutter. He would say “I like to keep it empty around here.” It is understood that “the dust itself is immaculate,” of course, that nothing is really “dirty” in any absolute sense. But attitudes and approaches “providing a space conducive to practice” – a unique definition of generosity, or dana, offered by a senior member of HH the Dalai Lama's inner circle, when giving a talk at ASZC some years ago – are meant to accommodate the relative level of perception, that “cleanliness is next to godliness,” as cited by St. Thomas Aquinas. TRAININGCleaning the environment is a specific activity within the larger category of Zen training in general. We train ourselves to serve the community through these various activities, while at the same time serving our own needs for simplicity, silence, and so on. We train in what has proved necessary to establish and maintain sustainable group practice in the public sphere. Aspects of how we approach this in the context of community may begin to bleed over into our personal lives at home and at work. We may find ourselves growing more attentive to our home or office environment, assuming more ownership and authorship over their functions, and their impact upon mindfulness on a daily basis. Training in Zen manifests this “halo effect,” a natural enhancement of Zen awareness. BOWING AND CHANTINGThe intent of Zen ritual may not be apparent at first blush, and so is widely subject to misinterpretation. It looks, on the surface, much like any other service one might observe, in Protestant or Catholic churches, as well as synagogues. Some are put off by the bowing and chanting, reading in such connotations as worship, public religiosity, and obsequiousness, which are all inappropriate projections. While the various formal protocols that have evolved around Zen practice have practical effects of cohering the community, their intent is largely personal. The Buddhist bow, for example, represents, on one hand, the person we are trying to improve; and on the other, the ideal person we want to emulate, our original buddha-nature. But the palm-to-palm hand position, or mudra in Sanskrit ‑ called gassho in Japanese ‑ symbolizes that just as our two hands are part of the same body, these apparently opposing selves are also just one, or “not-two” as the Ch'an poem “Trust in Mind” reminds us. With repetition, the bow eventually becomes empty of inappropriate connotations. Like emptying a teacup, so that it can be refilled with deeper meaning. Matsuoka-roshi would often remind us to “Chant with the ears, not with the mouth,” and that the concrete chanting, itself, is the true meaning of the chant. In other words, listen deeply to the chant, which is a Dharma teaching - not a prayer or worship - so that the act of chanting in a group becomes deeply meaningful on a personal level. In professional design circles, these seemingly innocuous, everyday conventions of maintaining order in space, and harmonious dynamics in time, cannot be overlooked. They are, indeed, regarded as essential deliverables in retail and other commercial environments, where the adverse effects of clutter and noise can be measured in financial terms as loss of business and customer base. The influence of environmental factors may be less obvious in the personal realm. But in the world of Zen, they can provide powerful aids to finding and sustaining harmony with the Great Way, from Zen's roots in Taoism. For further pursuit of the symbolism and design intent of the Zen space and protocols, I refer you to Matsuoka-roshi's early collected talks, “The Kyosaku,” where you will find a chapter on the various elements to be found in most zendos. Meanwhile, remember Master Dogen's admonition in “Jijuyu Zammai – Self-fulfilling Samadhi”: Without engaging in incense offering, chanting Buddha's name, repentance or reading scripture, you should just wholeheartedly sit and thus drop off body and mind. Sangha, community service, is important, but only to the extent that it provides the conducive environment for Buddha practice and Dharma study. * * * Elliston Roshi is guiding teacher of the Atlanta Soto Zen Center and abbot of the Silent Thunder Order. He is also a gallery-represented fine artist expressing his Zen through visual poetry, or “music to the eyes.”UnMind is a production of the Atlanta Soto Zen Center in Atlanta, Georgia and the Silent Thunder Order. You can support these teachings by PayPal to donate@STorder.org. Gassho.Producer: Shinjin Larry Little

If you are paying an undue degree of attention to the details of my UnMind podcasts, you may have noted that the last segment was titled “Teaching Zen & Teaching Design,” while this one is “Teaching Design & Teaching Zen.” A trivial difference without a distinction, you might say. The emphasis on design thinking may have been a bit confusing, and Zen will be the major focus of this one. But either is here used as a foil for the other, in the spirit of “Harmony of Sameness and Difference,” the second great Ch'an Poem in Soto Zen liturgy, by Master Sekito Kisen: Hearing the words understand the meaning do not set up standards of your ownNot understanding the Way before your eyes how will you know the path you walk? In design circles we say that communication is not the message sent, but the message received. Thus, in parsing my words, and any potential relevance to you and your practice, I ask that you look past my clumsy use of language, which is itself dualistic in nature, to the nonduality of reality as experienced in your consciousness, especially in your meditation. In the last segment I pointed out one obvious contrast between Zen thinking and design thinking: We do not think that we can think our way to enlightenment, in Zen. Meditation goes beyond thinking. Or perhaps more precisely, Zen's shikantaza, the immediate, long-term effect of zazen, defined as “objectless meditation,” resides in that space that exists before thinking. Thought takes time, and so is always looking back on what has already transpired. When it comes to practicing the method of zazen, as well as adapting Zen's worldview, the common premise going in is that thinking, as such, is not going to prove very useful, though it is our most useful tool in apprehending, and recognizing, what Master Dogen referred to as “non-thinking”: neither thinking nor not thinking; the mental middle way. Both design and Zen's meditation process involve a trans-sensory level of learning, which in Zen may be more aptly defined as “unlearning.” So it is not exactly accurate to say that we can “teach” Zen, though we do our best to share our experience, including some “do's and don'ts,” in an interactive dialog. As Matsuoka Roshi would say, “We teach each other Buddhism.” I often learn more in a given exchange, say in dokusan, more than may the identified student. Shohaku Okumura Roshi once commented, during a dharma talk that he gave at the Atlanta Zen center, that he was only “the teacher” because we were there as “the students.” When at home, or in a different context, he was certainly no longer a teacher, as such. We say that Zen cannot be taught, but that it can be learned. Learning Zen, versus learning anything else — especially something as tangible as product design — also differs in that the proof of the pudding, in Zen, is in a taste so intimate and personal that it cannot be shared with anyone. Whereas if I can sit in the chair you designed and built, I can tell for myself that you either know what you are doing, or not. For example, my wife and I once had the distinct pleasure of an overnight stay in Wisconsin, in a small cabin that had been designed by Frank Lloyd Wright, called the Seth Peterson Cottage. It was a lovely, compact building, in which neither Seth Peterson nor the great architect had ever set foot, both having died before it was complete. The relevance to our focus here is that while the building, and its lovely arboreal siting, were works of genius, the breakfast nook was very uncomfortable, consisting of flat banquettes with no cushioning. But they matched the walls, also clad with plywood. FLW was known for this emphasis on appearance over comfort, also evident in an exhibit of his higher-end home furnishings mounted at the Art Institute of Chicago Museum during my tenure there. Zen and Design both entail apprentice modes of training. That is, developing a grasp of Zen is rather like the process of learning to build a Steinway grand piano. The master or journeyman and their apprentice exchange few words, instead the apprentice simply observing and imitating what his mentor does. In near total silence, the essential functions and processes are communicated through actions, not words. And eventually — lo and behold — the piano is ready to play. This apprentice-journeyman-master triad is analogous to the initiate-disciple-priest model frequently found in Zen circles. The former wording may be more appropriate to our times than the latter — laden as it is with quasi-religious overtones, which do not quite fit the reality of being a Zen adept in America. Although we have great respect, bordering on reverence, for our teachers in Zen, we do not let it go to our heads when we find ourselves on the other side of the relationship. Or we should not, in any case. We who find ourselves in the awkward position of being expected to lead others in this most personal of all problem-solving arenas tend to think of ourselves as more like coaches. The student is like an athlete, who is endeavoring to reach the elite level of the sport. If they are not willing to do the work, no amount of coaching is going to help. If they are, it does not take much coaching to move the dial. This also applies to design. After all, I cannot know for sure what another person needs to know, in terms of Zen. I can only know what it is that I do not know; and perhaps, how to go deeper; as my root teacher would say. He would often remark that it's not what you say or do — in leading a Zen service, for example — it's how you do it. That is, it is natural, and okay, to mess up: you may miss the gong at the time designated; blow a line in the chant, et cetera. But as long as you do not let that get in your way, or disrupt the focus of the others present, no harm, no foul. It is more in the attitude with which you approach things — a balance of wholehearted sincerity and lighthearted joy — that will convey the essence of Zen, than it is in the precision or accuracy of your performance. Zen requires an agile sense of humor, and a goodly dollop of humility. Another dimension of the training process shared by Zen and design professionals is that of “training the trainers.” Although in both cases we are not really propagating a priesthood, but promoting a practice, the notion that our successors will carry on the tradition of training others is implicit in most professions, as well as in Zen. Zen should be approached professionally, rather than mystically, the latter being an example of unhelpful connotations often associated with Zen in the West. One of my professors at the Institute of Design one day proclaimed that the main thing you pick up from your professors at university consists of their attitudes toward the work. I would add that you also pick up learning habits and a work ethic: learning how to learn, as the standard trope goes. The same goes for Zen. Attitudes need adjustment. But the focus of Zen training is not exclusively in the realm of ideas, but rather in the realm of direct experience. Zen is not about reality, or what we can do to manipulate it, but a direct pointing at reality. This is how we approach it on the cushion, without relying on ideas, words and concepts. In Zen as well as design, the issue of control comes into play. In planning, designing and building something, anything — from a chair to the Brooklyn bridge or Holland tunnel — we have to control the materials and processes that will achieve the end we are attempting to achieve. Otherwise, the chair will be uncomfortable, like Frank Lloyd Wright's plywood benches, or we may build in a future disaster, like some of the dire engineering collapses we have witnessed from time to time. But trying to control everything has its limits. In meditation circles, we often hear phrases such as “controlling the breath” or “emptying your mind of thoughts.” These represent attitudes 180-degrees from that in Zen meditation, which is not one of exerting control, but rather relinquishing any real or imagined level of control. We follow the body in assuming the posture, and we follow the breath, rather than attempting to control it. What's sauce for the body is sauce for the mind. We let thoughts go, until they die down to dull roar, on their own. If you do not agree with this non-control, next time you are meditating, and Mother Nature calls, just tell her to buzz off: You are meditating just now. See how that works out for you. Similarly, in design processes, you have to relinquish your tendency to force materials and processes into a mold that is unnatural for them to perform the way you want them to. The concrete has to be adequately reinforced for the tunnel or building to withstand the stresses of gravity, or hurricane-force winds. The fasteners cannot weaken the wood, or the chair will collapse. I could go on, but will close with one more aphorism from design thinking: there are many design ideas that are simple in concept, but difficult in execution. Zen may be the poster boy for this truism. Zazen is irreducibly simple in design, but Zen can be maddeningly difficult in daily execution. It is not the fault of Zen, but rather of our stubborn monkey mind. But don't give up. Only you can do this. You are the only one who can design your Zen life. Only you can redesign it, as reality intervenes.* * * Elliston Roshi is guiding teacher of the Atlanta Soto Zen Center and abbot of the Silent Thunder Order. He is also a gallery-represented fine artist expressing his Zen through visual poetry, or “music to the eyes.”UnMind is a production of the Atlanta Soto Zen Center in Atlanta, Georgia and the Silent Thunder Order. You can support these teachings by PayPal to donate@STorder.org. Gassho.Producer: Shinjin Larry Little

In this segment of UnMind, I would like to return to the basics of Zen, after a foray into some of the darker topics of the times, in particular the horrific conditions of global strife in which we find ourselves immersed these days. It's a bit like being trapped in the middle of a train wreck where we cannot turn our gaze away. Life has always existed on the edge of death, aging and sickness — the three cardinal marks of dukkha, or “suffering” — Buddha's sine qua non of the conditions of existence as a sentient being. But the sheer enormity of wasteful, infuriating carnage being inflicted upon human beings by other human beings in current hotspots around the globe — not to mention the local wildlife, livestock, and pet animals — has exceeded all bounds of dysfunctional perversity. It seems a vestigial throwback to more primitive times, and is beginning to look like proof positive of the apocalyptic vision of some religions: the Prince of Darkness, evil personified, indeed has dominion over the Earth, at least for now. The Great Deceiver is parading around in the guise of political leaders of supposedly enlightened government, celebrating the targeted collapse of civilization everywhere they direct their ire. In this context it may seem irresponsible, and even insane, to turn our attention to examining the fundamentals of Buddhism and Zen, which encourage studying the self, forgetting the self, and hopefully realizing the true meaning and purpose of our existence, when the people actually doing the damage are the least likely to have any such inclination to self-examination, let alone any realization of compassionate insight for others. But, as they say, when the oxygen masks drop because the airplane is losing altitude, put yours on first, or you will not be able to help others. In Zen, zazen is your oxygen mask. ZEN ≠ ZAZEN ≠ MEDITATIONZen is not equal to zazen, and zazen is not equal to “meditation” as commonly understood. Zazen is not the same as other meditations, and the term “Zen” should not be considered interchangeable with “zazen.” It may seem heretical to propose that Zen is not equal to zazen, or that zazen does not fit the Western cultural definition of meditation. But bear with me. There are so many alternative styles of meditation today that it is past time to differentiate Zen's method from the rest. And to clarify that — while Zen and zazen cannot be separated — the terms are not interchangeable. Zen is not synonymous with its meditation method, zazen, simply because there is so much more to Zen as a way of life, a philosophy, and as a formative force throughout history. This has primarily been true of the history of the East, but following its introduction to America in the late 1890s, and especially after WWII, westerners in general, and Americans in particular, have become more and more interested in Zen, along with a parallel engagement with other meditative traditions and styles, such as Yoga, as well as other Buddhist and non-Buddhist variations. Zen is known as the meditation sect of Buddhism, but zazen is not its sole method of teaching. Zen boasts an extensive literature and liturgy on buddha-dharma as experienced and expounded by its adherents, traditionally beginning with Bodhidharma's journey out of India, and tracing its evolution through China, Korea and Japan, to the Far East. However, distribution of the Buddhist canon, in the form of written sutras and commentaries, had preceded the 28th Patriarch by centuries, and his bringing Zen from the West to the East was definitely focused on the direct practice of upright sitting, or what we now refer to as zazen, or more precisely, shikantaza. Likewise, zazen and shikantaza may usefully be parsed as to their relative definitions as method and effect, respectively. More on this later. ZAZEN & MEDITATIONThe Great Sage's meditation practice inside that cave at Shaolin Monastery did not conform to the traditional style known as dhyana, or contemplation, though this is how the local punditry interpreted his “wall-gazing Zen.” But he was not contemplating the wall. Dhyana, in the classic definition, involves a subject, or mind, meditating upon an actual, tangible object — such as a tree, in one famous example (from Hokyo Zammai—Precious Mirror Samadhi): If you wish to follow in the ancient tracksPlease observe the sages of the pastOne on the verge of realizing the buddha wayContemplated a tree for ten kalpas “Ten kalpas” is a mighty long time. The entire universe passes through only four kalpas in its cycle, known variously as the empty kalpa, or kalpa of formation; the kalpa of continuance; the kalpa of decline; and the kalpa of disintegration. So ten kalpas embrace two-and-a-half cycles of universal evolution. Long time. But we digress. Generally speaking, dhyana, or contemplation meditation, continues until the observing mind finally runs out of ideas, exhausting all possible thoughts about the object; leaving a direct sensory awareness of the existential reality of what we call a “tree,” but without the overlay of conceptualization, categorization, and endless web of connections. Bodhidharma, by turning abruptly to face the wall of the mountain, was demonstrating not contemplation, but shikantaza, or “objectless meditation,” which amounts to a kind of oxymoron, in conventional terms. Meditation is typically defined as focusing our attention on something, and so inherently implies a division of subject and object. If our direct experience in zazen eventually becomes objectless, then by definition it must also become subject-less (which, tellingly, is not a recognized construction in English; thus the hyphenation). In the most salient sense, then, zazen transcends normal meditation. We might say that we transcend from the personal dimensions of posture, breathing, and paying attention to the senses, as well as the machinations of the mind — the “eye, ear, nose, tongue, body, mind” of the Heart Sutra — to a subtle awareness of something less definitive: meditating upon the whole, rather than any part. The observer is subsumed into the observed, like a holon in a holarchy. More on this later.“Zen” is phonetic Japanese for “Ch'an,” which is phonetic Chinese for the Sanskrit “dhyana,” one of the traditional Six Paramitas, or “perfections” of Buddhism. Thus, because the origins of Zen meditation are not conflated with dhyana, but as going beyond contemplation, “Zen” is actually a kind of misnomer. Which is a good thing, because what Zen is pointing to cannot be named. In Taoism there is a similar idea, paraphrasing: Naming is the source of all (particular) things That which is eternally real is nameless Zazen and shikantaza, as mentioned, can also usefully be parsed as to their relative functions as “method” and “effect,” respectively. Holarchy & HolonI first came across the term “holarchy” — as opposed to the more familiar “hierarchy” — in the form of a book, “The Essential Ken Wilber,” recommended by a member of the Suzuki lineage for its treatise on “integral spirituality.” The term, holarchy, was not coined by him, according to Google, which, like the old magic oracles, you can ask anything:Arthur Koestler, author of the 1967 Book “The Ghost in the Machine,” coined the term holarchy as the organizational connections between holons (from the Greek word for "whole"), which describes units that act independently but would not exist without the organization they operate within. Is a hierarchy a nested holarchy?Instead of everything being explained in terms of smaller bits and ultimate particles—which was the way science worked in the modern era—we can now think of the universe holistically, organized in a series of levels of organization in a nested hierarchy or holarchy. At each level, things are both wholes and parts.Some of the earliest examples of holarchic models may be found in the early teachings of Buddhism: the Four Noble Truths and the Eightfold Path, the Twelvefold Chain of interdependent co-arising, the Five Aggregates and Six Senses, and so on. My model of the Four Nested Spheres of Influence, with personal at the center, surrounded by the social sphere, then the natural world, then the universal, is also like this, a holarchy. These sets of components are not meant to be understood as entirely separate and apart from each other, but intricately interrelated, to use one of Matsuoka Roshi's common expressions. In Zen, all seemingly disparate things are also connected, the ultimate expression of the current trope: “Both things can be true at the same time.” We turn to zazen in our daily lives, in order to manifest a Zen life. Zen is the meditation sect of Buddhism, and zazen is the heart of Zen. The method of zazen is the main thing that we actually transmit, from one generation to the next. It is the same in music and other arts and sciences. No one can teach another music, as such, but someone can teach you how to play an instrument. It is up to you to find the music. Similarly, we can teach others this “excellent method” of zazen, as Master Dogen defined it. It is up to them to find the Zen.The instrument we study, and play, in zazen, is the human body and mind, our essential inheritance enabling us to wake up fully, as did Buddha. Other species are not considered to have the level of consciousness necessary and sufficient to the challenge. Dogs may have buddha-nature, but like most humans, they may never realize it. Ironically, it seems that we have to stop “playing” the instrument of body-mind — that is, give up our impulse to control everything — in order to allow it to “drop off” (J. shinjin datsuraku) to reveal our true nature, which is not limited to this body and mind. Body and mind are not separate, and, again, both can be true at the same time. That is, mind and body may seem to be of different categories, yet they are intricately inter-related.So sitting in zazen may be considered a subset of Zen, which is all-encompassing, and thus the holon of zazen is subsumed under the holon of Zen. But the necessity of zazen as central to apprehending the larger sphere of Zen, means that the two not only cannot be separated, but that the method cannot be separated from the larger effects, as in: So minute it enters where there is not gapSo vast it transcends dimensionA hairsbreadth deviation and you are out of tune This stanza from “Hsinhsinming—Trust in Mind” by Master Kanchi Sosan, indicates another holarchy, that of the transcendent “IT” of Zen, and your personal relation to it. The slightest deviation on your part, in resisting or missing the point of this all-embracing teaching, is the primary source of your suffering. This basic idea of the asymmetrical nature of the relationship — of the holon of the “I” to that of the “IT” of Buddhism — is more directly captured some 200 years later, in Tozan Ryokai's “Hokyo Zammai—Precious Mirror Samadhi: You are not it but in truth it is you In zazen, as well as in Zen writ large, we are embracing the directive from the first poem, in which Master Sosan admonishes us, paraphrasing: To move in the One WayDo not reject even the world of senses and ideasIndeed embracing them fully is identical with true enlightenment Stay tuned. * * * Elliston Roshi is guiding teacher of the Atlanta Soto Zen Center and abbot of the Silent Thunder Order. He is also a gallery-represented fine artist expressing his Zen through visual poetry, or “music to the eyes.”UnMind is a production of the Atlanta Soto Zen Center in Atlanta, Georgia and the Silent Thunder Order. You can support these teachings by PayPal to donate@STorder.org. Gassho.Producer: Shinjin Larry Little

I hesitate to add yet another voice to the cacophony of cries of agony, suffering, outrage and acrimony emanating out of Israel, Gaza, and surrounding Arab states, exacerbated by the 24/7 chattering class. Not to mention the ongoing carnage in Ukraine, which seems to have slipped under the global radar. But I fear that if we in Zen do not try to address these terrible global realities in the context of Buddhism, it may be taken as an indication, or an admission on our part, that Zen, along with its teachings and practice, have finally faded into irrelevance, in the face of such intractable 21st century problems. But as Katagiri Roshi reminds us, “You have to say something.” And Matsuoka Roshi did not shy from taking on the atrocities of his day. Check out his collected talks. Actually, just the opposite is true. It is not that the Zen Way is a panacea, or that it offers a silver bullet that will somehow “fix” a situation that has been several millennia in the making. But Buddhism points to the fundamental origin of the problem, traditionally defined as “craving” or “thirst.” The difficulty is that we have to individually “abandon” that craving, in order to enable the cessation of suffering, not only for ourselves but for others. But the individuals directly affected by the war seem to have no power over, or protection from, the influence and actions of the masses. So it would seem that our challenge may be to define the actual source of the conflict in the Middle East as originating in some form of craving, one that has been in force since long before the founding of Israel, just after the end of WWII. We must concede that the abandonment of that craving may or may not be possible, given the volatility of the situation, and the likelihood that cooler heads will not prevail for some time. According to my limited understanding of Buddhism, craving begins before birth, innate in the very desire to exist. This idea amounts to a pre-Enlightenment or proto-scientific hypothesis, an attempt to explain Nature's overwhelming fecundity, the irresistible will to life, manifested as the innumerable cascade of seeds, sperm, spores, and other forms of burgeoning life, populating the natural sphere in all corners of the planet. In sentient beings such as humans, this craving is clearly inchoate, beginning before or at conception and continuing in the womb, arising out of basic ignorance of the causes and conditions of our own origins. Whatever level of awareness can be attributed to the developing embryo, it is of a relatively primitive nature, compared to its later stages of maturation. Buddha made a noble attempt to model the process of growth of sentient beings, arising from primordial ignorance under the influence of mental formations, slowly differentiating the senses, and finally segueing through birth, aging, and death; then beginning another round through rebirth, in the teaching known as the “Twelvefold Chain of Interdependent Co-Arising” (Skt: pratityasamutpada). Find the link to the illustration in the show notes for this segment. Note that “mental formations” (#2) comprises the second link in the chain, arising in the womb out of the first link, the primordial sea of ignorance (#1) from which the universe arises. These formations are the motives, intentions and desires that underly all other dimensions of life, and which underpin our natural consciousness (#3) as a sentient being. The growth of the fetus continues, following its DNA blueprint — as we now know from modern genetics — resulting in a particular form (#4) of the organism; which leads to development of the six senses (#5), and contact (#6) with the outer world; which, in the context of the mother's womb, would arise from subtle sensation (#7) and perhaps a level of subliminal perception (#8), such as hunger experienced as craving (#9); which then develops into clinging (#10); leading to “becoming” (#11) — in the most general sense of the word — in modern terms, ontogeny; and finally to birth (#12), which ultimately reverts to aging and death (#13). Then, according to this theory, the cycle begins all over again. Tradition has it that it takes three full cycles through the chain to complete the process. So what does all this have to do with war, let alone the karmic consequences we might associate with war? Modern biology might find this model overly simplified, but I propose that we apply it to the arising of social awareness in the individual. We may find some linkage as to how a chain of conflicts arising between individuals can spread within a community, and between ethnic groups, eventually fueling international strife. One of the guest speakers at a conference we held in collaboration with the Department of Religion of Emory University in 2000, structured around the scholar-practitioner divide and focused on the teachings of Master Dogen, was asked, during the Q&A following his address, whether Christians, Buddhists, and Muslims, could truly engage in a dialog. His answer was “No.” As long as they are Christians, Buddhists, and Muslims, no dialog is possible. At the risk of repeating myself, allow me to take this moment to point out the obvious: Buddha was not a Buddhist, any more than Christ was a Christian. These concepts came into the vernacular following their life and death on Earth. They have now become additional labels for identifying and differentiating the constructed self. During his recent peacemaking trip to Israel, president Joe Biden was quoted as saying something like: “Whether you are Muslim, Jewish, or Christian, if you give up who you are, the terrorists have won.” But Buddhism suggests that we should do precisely that. We are to thoroughly examine the reality of this “who you are” — the imputed or constructed “self” — with a judicious skepticism, particularly in meditation. When we do so, we are told, we will see through the outer appearance of the self, penetrating to the emptiness at its core. This “emptiness” is an inadequate translation of the Sanskrit shunyatta, which points to the dynamic, ever-changing reality underlying all phenomena, and not a vacuous, woeful, or frightening void of nothingness, as it is sometimes interpreted. Perhaps we can draw an analogous parallel between the progress of a single person through these stages of life, as articulated by Buddha, to that of the tribe, or community, a group of individuals united by a common gene pool and shared biological and geographical roots, as well as agreed-upon social mores and norms. When two such groups clash, the knee-jerk reaction is to point fingers and blame the other side for starting the current conflict. The response is always to reflect the blame back on the accuser, in a seemingly endless regress into the fog of history. Observers seem compelled to weigh in on one side or the other. If we look at the suffering in an individual's life, we might entertain the same question: Whose fault is this? Who started this? Whose idea was this? Theistic philosophies have a ready answer — that this life, with all its imperfections, is a reflection of God's will — moving in mysterious ways that we cannot hope to comprehend. Applying this same nostrum to international strife seems largely an evasive maneuver, an avoidance of the responsibility of actually resolving the dispute in human terms. In Zen, we embrace the idea that, if anyone is to blame for our individual life, it is us. The repentance verse expresses this notion concisely: All my past and harmful karmaFrom beginningless greed, hate and delusionBorn of body, mouth, and mind,I now fully avow. “Avow” is a rather archaic term, meaning to assert or confess openly. In other words, we are owning it — assuming responsibility for the unintended consequences of our own behavior — we are not blaming others. We might want to blame our parents, and their parents, another endless regress, as the proximate cause of our own existence. Good luck with that. Even if they are at fault, we cannot hold them accountable, at least not for long. After their demise, we are left to face the same reality, without the scapegoat. Similarly, in international conflicts, which often amount to tribal warfare on steroids, it might be helpful for all sides to own up to their own culpability in what has come to pass, as president Biden did in recalling the overwrought reaction to the 911 crisis. This would amount to a simple recognition and acceptance of one of the seminal marks of dukkha: “imperfection.” Admitting that “mistakes were made” — before the situation accelerates to an irresolvable level of mutually-inflicted violence. One of the black marks on US exceptionalism — that of Hiroshima & Nagasaki — has become the mother of all mistakes that have ever been made on the global stage. The country that first dropped the Big Bomb on civilians is hardly in a position to lecture others on the morality of human decency in following the “laws of war,” the mother of all oxymorons. War is precisely the end of law, in any human sense of the term. Where people — or, for that matter, any sentient beings of the same species — are separated, they tend to evolve in different directions. This principle of Darwin's “Origin of Species” theory can explain a lot, such as the development of varying cuisines, dialects and languages, as well as the susceptibility of isolated populations to propaganda. What if the appropriate authority, such as the United Nations, undertook a program of social exchange in all such closed-border situations as that of Israel and the Gaza strip? What that might look like would be providing safe passage from each side of the border to the other for limited groups of families or age groups, who would spend a limited amount of time in the company or homes of their counterparts in the “other” culture, the designated enemy. This is an old idea whose time may have come around again. If people get to know each other on a personal, more intimate basis, and “break bread” together, they are a lot less likely to turn on each other for no reason, and to find common ground. Wasting the opportunity of a lifetime in the service of a questionable, survival-oriented self finds its analog in following political leaders who are similarly self-striving, finding at the end-of-the-day, or at the end of your life, that not only are they, your titular leaders, unappreciative of your loyalty, but that they even regard you with contempt, as part of the problem, or at best a pawn in their geopolitical chess game. In the personal sphere of meditation, you may fight your own war, and hopefully find your individual salvation. Then, and only then, you may be able to share it with others in, and outside of, your social sphere. Good luck with that. Don't give up.* * * Elliston Roshi is guiding teacher of the Atlanta Soto Zen Center and abbot of the Silent Thunder Order. He is also a gallery-represented fine artist expressing his Zen through visual poetry, or “music to the eyes.”UnMind is a production of the Atlanta Soto Zen Center in Atlanta, Georgia and the Silent Thunder Order. You can support these teachings by PayPal to donate@STorder.org. Gassho.Producer: Shinjin Larry Little

In the last segment we ended with the suggestion that you, dear listener, might construct your own Noble N-fold Path based on your vision of the Noble Truths, with the proviso that you may have to articulate what the existence of suffering means to you, and how you might pursue a path to its cessation in modern times. In doing so you may discover that there are more origins of suffering in your life than simple craving, although craving is not simple. You may also find, upon closer examination, that the cessation of suffering is going to require giving up more than your basic biological cravings, and that your personal path to salvation will have more than eight basic dimensions involved. However, most of the more detailed dimensions and distractions in daily life today will probably loosely correlate to those that the Buddha defined. Let me know if, in the interim, you have thought about this, and engaged in the creative exercise I suggested — that you make an attempt to redefine the Four Noble Truths and the Noble Eightfold Path in your own terms. I would be interested to see what you came up with. In this segment, as promised, I will attempt to expand the context further, integrating the original four as defined by Buddha with those surrounding spheres of influence that have impact on our daily lives, as well as on our contemporary practice of Zen, including the personal and social we have discussed so far, as well as the natural and universal spheres. Go to the UnMind webpage to see my diagram of the nesting spheres of influence combined with the Four Noble Truths. The link to the page is in the show notes for this episode. This illustration attempts to paint a picture of the comprehensive context of a modern Zen life and practice of the Eightfold Path, tying together our current, more expansive grasp of the surrounding universe, with Buddha's Four Noble Truths. These are the Four Spheres, those surrounding layers of reality in which we find ourselves enmeshed, and are directly or indirectly influenced by, in the ongoing management of our lives. The most central is the Personal sphere, the next level out being the Social, then the Natural, and finally, the Universal. They are not truly separate, of course, but relatively so.THE UNIVERSAL: EXISTENCE OF SUFFERINGOur meditative practice is centered in the personal experience we find on the cushion, the most intimate dimension, inseparable from the other three. Buddha's teaching of the Existence of suffering — and his charge that we are to fully understand its existence — we might assume to lie within the innermost circle, the Personal. But its true home is in the outermost, the Universal realm. After all, nothing, anywhere in the Universe, is exempt from dukkha, as the principle of change. Galaxies colliding in outer space are an instance of dukkha. That we are, each and all of us, caught up in incessant change, does not reduce dukkha to a merely personal concern, however, from either a positive or negative perspective. We are neither the chosen, most favored, beings in this spectacle; nor are we the sole victims. Dukkha is not a respecter of persons. The universal dimension of zazen includes the physical posture sinking into a profound stillness, which lies at the heart of all motion (captured by the Ch'an expression “mokurai”); and settling into precise alignment with the field of gravity. The term used to name this profound equilibrium is “Samadhi.” Zazen-samadhi transcends the Personal and Social spheres, linking into the Natural and Universal forces of the planet and the solar system, as we hear in the Ch'an poem Hokyo Zammai—Precious mirror Samadhi: Within causes and conditions time and season It is serene and illuminatingSo minute it enters where there is no gapSo vast it transcends dimensionA hairsbreadth's deviation and you are out of tuneAll change, from the most minute in the microcosmos to the outermost reaches of the universe, is a manifestation of dukkha, which is, however, “serene and illuminating.” All forms, including solid, liquid and gaseous states of matter in continual flux, provide examples of the Universal impinging upon the Personal. Our very life depends upon these three basic states of matter, as well as the functioning principles of organic chemistry, or biology, which overlap with the Natural. We cannot personally control, or negate, these influences to any significant degree. But we can come into harmony with them if we tune ourselves to their frequency.THE NATURAL: ORIGIN OF SUFFERINGThe Origin of suffering, usually translated as “craving” or “thirst,” Buddha taught that we are to abandon, again as fully as possible. Craving would most logically find its home in the Natural sphere, as it comes bundled with sentient life. As attributed to the plant kingdom, for example, to claim evidence of craving may seem a bridge too far, but we describe trees and grasses as thirsty, especially under increasingly common conditions of drought as one result of climate change.It is even more difficult to defend craving as manifested in the mineral kingdom, though certain chemical reactions, and even the simple dynamic of osmosis, or wicking, via capillary attraction, appears to mimic a form of thirst, admittedly inchoate, and unconscious. The main point is that while we tend to own our own feelings of craving, struggling with guilt and other obsessions as a consequence, they are clearly and largely a result of being a physical being — an animal — one endowed with painfully intense self-awareness. “Born of body, mouth and mind” is the operative phrase in Buddhism's Repentance verse. Most of our suffering comes with the territory. And therefore we are not responsible for it, only for what we do, or do not do, about it.The Natural sphere is not only the macro environment around us, but also the micro environ within our body, including the biological, chemical and electrical processes of breathing, digesting, and the rest of the inconceivable scope of life functions built into existence as a sentient being. It is all changing constantly, and subliminally to our typical awareness.THE SOCIAL: CESSATION OF SUFFERINGThe Cessation of suffering, which we are to fully realize, I position primarily in the Social sphere, though the most efficacious means for realizing it may reside in the most intimate inner circle of the Personal. A transformational event that Buddha identified as a “turning about in the inmost consciousness,” is tantamount to salvation in Zen. But this is not the salvation of an eternal soul in the afterlife.Personal suffering of aging, sickness and death — including birth as the leading cause of death — is quintessentially Natural. This process follows the “Dharma” as the natural law of sentient life. It is natural, in the psychological sense, that we look for personal salvation in the face of such suffering. And it is understandable that we look to the social level — of advanced medical treatment, for example — for solutions to mitigate personal suffering. However, in the most fully developed and comprehensive of the Mahayana teachings, the Bodhisattva Vow, we find that no one individual can be saved while the rest remain mired in suffering. In Zen, the most central form, and cause, of suffering is our willful ignorance, and resistance.THE PERSONAL: PATH TO CESSATIONThe Eightfold Path, which Buddha challenges us to fully follow, I place primarily in the Personal sphere. It forms a bridge into the Social, most obviously, but has resonance with the Natural and Universal spheres as well. While the usual linear sequence begins with Right View, and ends with Right Meditation, in actual Zen practice, the sequence is reversed. Some sects do not encourage students to meditate until they have some grounding in doctrine. Zen subscribes to the sink-or-swim approach, trusting the practice of upright, seated meditation to have an immediate, positive effect, encouraging followers to do follow-up research to clarify their experience. Engaging fully in Right Meditation, the practice of Right Mindfulness and Right Effort will follow naturally. These three comprise Right Discipline. This necessarily begins in the Personal sphere of practice-experience on the cushion, but mindfulness and effort obviously carry over into the Social realm. Right Speech, Action and Livelihood, taken together as Right Conduct, are most engaged in the Social sphere, though our actions and livelihood clearly affect the Natural realm, as in examples of mismanagement of resources.Finally, Right View, and Right Thought, when combined, comprise Right Wisdom in the threefold Path, complementing Right Discipline and Conduct. Wisdom consists in the evolution of our worldview to approximate that of the Buddha, or Buddhism, through trial-and-error, engaging the other dimensions of the Eightfold Path.THE INSEPARABILITY OF PERSONAL, SOCIAL, NATURAL & UNIVERSALDividing the Path into digestible bites does not imply that such separations are absolute. All diagrams are Venn diagrams, to a degree, whether of Buddhist teachings, or other areas of human endeavor. The personal cannot be separated from the social, the natural, or the universal, in reality, nor can wisdom, conduct, and discipline, whether right or wrong. The natural sphere entails stewardship of the environment, including the survival of the species. Extinction of species in the ecosystem, as a result of insensitivity to long-term consequences, and callous disregard for the sake of short-term profit, becomes very personal in terms of its impact on individuals, social in its effect on whole communities. Exhaustive mining of mineral resources provides another example of the connection between our personal needs and the dictates of Nature writ large. The most direct and obvious solution to the social and natural “tragedy of the commons” is for each individual to reduce craving on a personal level. Zazen, which seems to be Personal, disengaged navel-gazing, is actually the most direct gate to the Social, Natural and Universal dimensions of our existence. When we leave the cushion and re-enter the fray, the benefits of our practice come with us. Please examine this thoroughly in practice — thank you, Dogen.* * * Elliston Roshi is guiding teacher of the Atlanta Soto Zen Center and abbot of the Silent Thunder Order. He is also a gallery-represented fine artist expressing his Zen through visual poetry, or “music to the eyes.”UnMind is a production of the Atlanta Soto Zen Center in Atlanta, Georgia and the Silent Thunder Order. You can support these teachings by PayPal to donate@STorder.org. Gassho.Producer: Shinjin Larry Little

Susan O'Connell, Spiritual Director of the Zen-Inspired senior living communities, Enso Village and Enso Verde (in development), speaks to how Zen is a transformative foundation for elder housing, building a healthy community, and bringing joy into everyday living. About Susan Susan O'Connell is the Spiritual Director of the Zen-Inspired senior living communities, a collaboration between the San Francisco Zen Center and Kendal Corporation. Their first community, Enso Village, is opening in Healdsburg, California in November 2023, and Enso Verde, its sister property, will be opening in Simi Valley in 2027. These revolutionary new Zen-inspired life plan communities are the result of Susan's leadership and vision over the past 15 years as Vice President and President of the Zen Center Board of Directors, and the wisdom and experience of the Kendal Corporation.  Susan's career wasn't always rooted in Zen practices. In fact, she spent over 25 years in the entertainment industry working as a professional actress and developing and producing several films. It wasn't until her visit to Green Gulch, the Zen Center's Muir beach location, in 1987, that Susan's interest in meditation was sparked. After a few years of exploring this new practice, she experienced a long series of losses and difficulties and in 1995 she decided to give up her Russian Hill apartment, give everything away and move into the San Francisco Zen Center in search of peace and refuge. Susan went on to receive priest ordination from Tenshin Reb Anderson in 1999, was head monk (shuso) in 2004, and was given Dharma Transmission in 2017. Today, Susan gives regular Dharma talks via the Zen Center, and is known for speaking on and writing about topics such as “The Power of Joy”, and “Transition- A Way to See What Matters.” She is passionate about sharing her wisdom on mindful and positive aging and after 27 years at the Zen Center Susan is now a proud resident at Enso Village in Healdsburg, spearheading the spiritual direction of Enso Verde as it is developed, and living her life to the fullest. Key Takeaways Zen is what you think it is. It's simplicity, calmness, and about being present, in its widest sense. Beyond that, it's about living an equanimous life, being able to be flexible, and move with whatever is arising from having a strong base, cultivated by meditation. Community itself can be a healing modality. In Zen-inspired senior living communities, you can integrate quiet, meditation, caring about the planet, and this leads to a sense of community that is healing in and of itself. Dual caregiving, which often occurs at senior living communities, is when a person who thinks they're “well” cares for another who they believe is “not well,” and the care becomes oppressive. Try to have buckets of joy. It can be easy to get caught on the side of loss, but there can be joy in just being alive.

In the midst of the chaos we are going through, it seems we've left sanity far behind and it will be so difficult to return to it.  Living in a world with mixed messages, confusion and emotions flaring high we wonder if we will ever find the road to clarity, and simple moments of joy. The truth is that sanity is right here, all the time, impossible to avoid. Unless we turn away from it. .. It is truly up to us to stop and notice where we place our attention, what messages we respond to, and believe to be valuable. In Zen practice, we stop racing around, searching for answers. The quieter we become, the more we attend to simple, natural moments, and the plain reality of who we are, what is happening right now, the more truth reveals itself. The more we enter the natural, inevitable harmony which directs and nourishes all. 

Continuing with our discussion of various turning points in living the Zen life, we will examine the Buddhist tradition of “leaving home” to become a mendicant, with its unexamined but intrinsic root question of what, exactly, we mean by “home.” The monastic ideal of “leaving home” is repeatedly praised by Master Dogen in the ordination ceremony known, in Japanese, as “Shukke Tokudo” — which translates as something like “leaving home, sharing the dharma.” In lay householder practice, we do not literally leave home, of course, other than for the occasional extended retreat, or sesshin. But we interpret the meaning as deeply significant, even to the householder. Our true home turns out to be unrelated to geography, or any of the other relative circumstances of existence.We might also question the reality of home-leaving in the life of monastics, as Master Dogen mentions regarding monks of his time (see Shobogenzo Zuimonki). He suggests that some cannot really relinquish their attachment to family, and all that it entails, for the sake of Zen. But it seems a near-prerequisite in order to “hear the true Dharma,” as he puts it in Dogen's Vow (Eiheikosohotsuganmon).Other monks, who are able to relinquish family and home, are not able to let go of their attachment to their body, and good health. They are not willing to put their life on the line, which is, after all, understandable. In this same poem, he quotes Ch'an Master Lungya: “In this life save the body; it is the fruit of many lives.” I take his point to be that an obsession with living a normal life as the scion of a family lineage, at the expense of Zen practice, is ultimately doomed to failure. As a famous analogy has it, family will not accompany you in death. Like other aspects of your life, including health and wellbeing, they will only go as far as the grave. Aging, sickness and death, the three major marks of existence, according to Buddhism, cannot be avoided in the long run. And Zen takes the long view.But the third and most difficult level of monastic non-attachment pointed out by Dogen Zenji, is clinging to our own ideas and opinions, especially regarding all the above. Even monks who can realize the first two levels have difficulty with this last, unable to relinquish, or even to recognize, their erroneous worldview. The monk who can do this most difficult thing has the best chance of waking up during this lifetime. Highest Level of PracticeThis brings up an interesting point, a seeming contradiction, that Dogen does not go into. Achieving this last bit of letting go — of the “ties that bind” — implies letting go of our viewpoints. Including, most notably, those regarding the prior two levels — forgoing a normal lay life of family and friends, marriage, social status, and so on; and further, forsaking our attachment to our own health and, ultimately, our very life. In other words, if we truly let go of all of our own opinions, this would necessarily include any preconceptions we harbor — such as that the most advanced monk or nun is necessarily detached from family and body. Not necessarily. In Zen, we give up our opinions of all such kinds of attachment. It is, after all, natural to be attached to both the body and our family; the distinction lies in the degree to which we are attached to them. This is the heart of the Middle Way.A clear example of this principle is found in pain. We experience some pain in meditation. But we do not immediately react, doing something to make it stop right now. We sink into it a bit more than we usually would, going beyond our comfort zone. In doing so, we have an opportunity to truly experience the “pain” for what it really is. Thus, we may discover that it is not so bad. Although even if we thought that the more extreme dictates of practice may turn out to be life-threatening, we should not shrink from it, according to Dogen. Nothing ventured, nothing gained on a scalable spectrum. Unless we are ale to set aside our preconception that pain = bad, we cannot learn from the experience. This principle then applies to all of our aversions to testy circumstances in life. Aversion is simply the flip side of attachment. Master Dogen's assessment of the levels of commitment of various monks ends with the rare case of one who is able to sunder ties to family, health and life; and, finally, to one's own worldview. This is the highest and truest form of liberation from the random, but seemingly determinative, causes and conditions of our present human birth. But since the last test entails relinquishment of our personal opinion of “all the above,” this should lead to the conclusion that the life of the lay householder is not all that distinct from that of the mendicant monk or nun, at least in any way that really matters in the context of the Great Matter. It is a case of the well-known “distinction without a difference.” If the circumstances of one's lifestyle are only that — circumstance — then by definition, they are not central to living the Zen life.Following on this reasoning, we might propose that the lay person — who is able to relinquish all such opinions, and “succeed to the wisdom of the buddhas” (see Fukanzazengi) — represents the highest possible level of realization. This may explain why it is, in the history of Buddhism and Zen, that such lay persons as Vimalakirti, Emperor Ashoka, Layman Pang, and countless others, are so admired. In spite of having their plates full, constrained by domestic and even governmental duties, they were able to gain profound insight into the Dharma, without renouncing their ordinary life. Not to mention certain monks who were known to flout the norms of monastic life. Of course, you cannot tell the Zen book by its cover, so it is best to appraise only your own practice, and not to judge others, from outward appearances. Contemporary Lay PracticeContemporary lay practice in America is surely vastly different from what it was, and is, in the countries of origin, today as well as in ancient times. My limited understanding suggests that most lay householders practiced dana — generosity — by supporting the monks and nuns of the local orders with offerings of food and material support, including currency and other forms of fungible goods such as metals and fabrics. The community was apparently engaged in other, interactive ways as well. Young children would be sent to the temples and monasteries for training, which probably amounted to finishing schools, including some study of Buddhism. The early monasteries of the East probably evolved into the institutions of higher learning, universities, as they did in the Middle East and in the West, in Europe, for example. But the actual practice of Zen meditation, specifically, was probably not widespread, even in China and Japan. It was, and is, primarily the purview of the monastics Today, however — I think perhaps especially in North and South America, as well as in Western Europe — lay practitioners generally equate Zen practice with meditation. Particularly in the USA, we tend to be do-it-yourselfers. We are not satisfied with second-hand information, and look to direct experience as having its own value, in most everything we do. Thus, Zen training is closely related to apprentice modes of professional training, as in a craft or guild. A novice becomes an apprentice to a master; and eventually a journeyman; finally certified as a master herself. But we must be careful about this idea of becoming a “Zen Master.” We do not master Zen — Zen master us. But only if we allow it. As Master Dogen reminds us in the Genjokoan excerpt from Bendowa, meaning “a talk about the Way,” the first fascicle from his master compilation, Shobogenzo: When buddhas are truly buddhas they do not necessarily notice that they are buddhas. If spiritual awakening is simply awakening to reality, it would not necessarily include taking on a new self-identity as a “buddha.” It might, however, include seeing oneself, as well as others, in a somewhat different light. “Your body and mind, as well as the body and mind of others, drop away” as Dogen assures us in the same teaching. Living the Zen Life TodayWhile we may admire, and hope to emulate, the life of a monk or nun, I believe we in America do not have enough grounding in the reality of that choice, nor in the cultures of the countries of origin, in which Buddhism and Zen originally arose. The choices we have today, in terms of maintaining Zen practice in the midst of life, are surely very different from those of ancient India, for example. Joining the Order meant leaving behind the conventional trappings of society, including family name and caste position, wealth, and so on, though some of Buddha's top disciples seem to have been his blood relatives. The original Order at first included men only, but even during Buddha's lifetime, it expanded to include women. From what I have gathered, any adult from any level of the caste system of the time could join, as long as they were willing to forego the privilege and provenance of their upbringing. This, it seems to me, had to do with renouncing the self, in the conventional sense.This tradition is what Master Dogen, some 1300 years later, referred to as “leaving home,” in laudatory language. Today, we join the community, or Sangha — and can even become ordained as a priest — without literally leaving home in the obvious, outer sense of the phrase. However, when we undergo Shukke Tokudo, lay ordination as a novice priest, the implication is that we leave our ostensible home, in order to find our true home, in universal homelessness.Our True Home: HomelessnessThis homelessness is considered the original, or natural, way of being, and has nothing to do with where we were born, or where we currently dwell, in the geographic sense. Circumstances of our birth, as well as our growing up, our livelihood, and our eventual death, are just that: circumstantial. They are not central to our being, though they may play an inordinate role in shaping our worldview; and, indeed, whether or not we are ever even exposed to the Dharma.This human birth is considered rare in Buddhism, though with nine billion and counting (when I originally wrote this, it was seven billion), it may appear to be so common as to threaten the very survival of the species. By comparison to other life forms, such as insects, we are not even close to predominance on the planet, as measured in biomass. But the disproportionate effect that we as human beings have on the environment amounts to a crisis. We may want to broaden our scope from considerations of our own, personal mortality, to embrace the possibility of extinction of the entire species. There is no greater form of homelessness than to become extinct. ASZC & STO as Collaborative Community Each month, during our Second Sunday Sangha lunch and dialog at ASZC, we discuss issues of how we as individuals can join in the efforts of promoting true community, without compromising our own personal lives as householders and lay Zen people. Matsuoka Roshi predicted, and I concur, that the rebirth of Zen would be seen in America, and that its propagation would be primarily in the form of lay householder practice. He would often remark that “Zen is always contemporary.” That is, we don't have to try too hard to make it contemporary.We have just passed the sixth year anniversary of what might be considered one of the all-time great failures of community, that seen in Charlottesville, Virginia. It recalled to mind the greatest international example of decline of community in Germany, Italy, and later, Japan, which led to WWII. But Charlottesville is only a blip on the screen of the ongoing series of catastrophes, both natural and human, that have plagued the human community since the beginning of recorded history. The latest being the hell on Earth that is Ukraine, courtesy of the Putin regime in Russia. Any serious student of history is not at all surprised by the daily atrocities that we witness on the news. This is human nature in full flower. It is why we aspire to buddha-nature, instead.Now we are in the throes of adolescence, in the growth of the Zen community in America. That there is a lot of confusion wreaked upon this process is to be expected, owing both to quirks of contemporary Western society, and the persistence of myths surrounding the origins of Zen practice in the seminal communities in India, China, Korea, Japan, and the far East. Most of the confusion arises, I think, from the supposed contrasts and apparent contradictions between traditional monastic, and contemporary lay householder, lifestyles. So, as if we need one more thing to worry about, we do not want to become attached to the propagation of Zen as yet another preconceived project in its own right. We are privileged to be exposed to the Dharma, in the most humble sense of the term, and not merely by dint of circumstances of our birth, the source of most social privilege. Let us not miss this opportunity to join with the Zen community, and to serve its members in true collaboration. It is well within our enlightened self-interest to do so.* * * Elliston Roshi is guiding teacher of the Atlanta Soto Zen Center and abbot of the Silent Thunder Order. He is also a gallery-represented fine artist expressing his Zen through visual poetry, or “music to the eyes.”UnMind is a production of the Atlanta Soto Zen Center in Atlanta, Georgia and the Silent Thunder Order. You can support these teachings by PayPal to donate@STorder.org. Gassho.Producer: Shinjin Larry Little

About this episode:In our fast-paced modern world, the pursuit of mindfulness and spiritual growth can often feel elusive. However, at the heart of Zen philosophy lies a profound truth: everything in life is usable for awakening.Embracing this concept means seeing imperfection, challenges, and difficulties as tools for personal growth and enlightenment. It's a pivotal moment in our spiritual journey when we realize that suffering and imperfection can crack open the shell of ego, leading to humility and compassion.Eckhart Tolle, in "The Power of Now," beautifully captures this idea: "If you had not suffered as you have, there would be no depth to you as a human being. No humility, no compassion. Suffering is necessary until you realize it is unnecessary."The key is to confront discomfort without judgment and listen to our inner wisdom." Thich Nhat Hanh, in "The Miracle of Mindfulness," reminds us that even mundane activities can be opportunities for awakening.Mundane experiences become gateways to mindfulness and a deeper understanding of the present moment. Positive experiences, too, can be savored without worrying about their end, teaching us to appreciate the now.Challenges, whether they come in the form of new experiences or difficult emotions, have the power to transform us, shedding illusions of weakness and conditioning, revealing our true selves illuminated with awareness.In conclusion, the concept that "everything is usable" reminds us that every moment, every experience, and every emotion in life can be a stepping stone on our journey toward awakening. Embracing imperfection and challenges with open hearts and minds unlocks our potential for personal growth, mindfulness, and a deeper connection to the world around us. Ultimately, it is through these experiences that we become more fully alive and aware of the beauty of our existence.Transcript:00:16Welcome to The Imperfect Buddhist, where we discuss present moment awareness and incorporating Zen principles into modern life. My name is Matthew Hawk Mahoney and today's episode is titled, Everything is Usable. Today's episode is all about using what is at hand, what is in our life for awakening, whether that's pain, joy, or just boredom.00:42We'll talk about the concept of everything is usable. The concept that we can use all of life's experiences for our own awakening.01:09At some point in our spiritual life, we decide to embrace imperfection. We start to embrace challenges in our life. This will be a shift for us. Some people, maybe if their parents were on some different level, maybe they helped their children accept and embrace challenges and difficulties. But for the most part, most people will have to learn how to do this in their own way. At some point on the spiritual path, we begin to embrace01:37difficulty and imperfection in our life. We start to see imperfection and difficulty as teachers. We start to see imperfection and difficulty as fodder for awakening, something that can fuel our personal awakening and the endeavor of meditation.01:58Eckhart Tolle in his book, The Power of Now says, If you had not suffered as you have, there would be no depth to you as a human being. No humility, no compassion. Suffering cracks open the shell of ego. And then comes a point when it has served its purpose. Suffering is necessary until you realize it is unnecessary.02:21This idea that suffering or imperfection can be used in our own awakening is something that I'm becoming reacquainted with in my own practice. My wife and I this year have been endeavoring to reduce our technology use and to start picking up old hobbies or being comfortable with it just being quiet in the house staring out the window. And so I've been noticing that through eliminating our TV use or trying to limit our technology use that I'm...02:48Becoming more acquainted with this underlying feeling of dissatisfaction, like this kind of anxiousness that's been living underneath the surface and festering as I've been indulging in a lot of screen time. I have had a couple moments where I'm feeling uncomfortable and I'm like, I don't want to feel this. I want to distract myself again. I want to get away from this feeling. I don't like it. And sometimes it wins. Sometimes I start watching stuff on my phone as I stuff my face and eat my lunch.03:16And sometimes it doesn't. Sometimes I'm able to stick with it and feel it and go through it. And then I'm able to ask myself, is there anything I can do differently that may make an impact on how I'm feeling? I started picking up rock climbing again, and soon I'll be doing some yoga at the rock climbing gym. And I noticed a big change in my body. Rock climbing for me is a really mindful sport, present as I'm doing the moves necessary.03:44So this little slight change to my routine is starting to help me.03:54What I'm talking about is a recognition in your own presence. When you embrace whatever suffering you're feeling, you embrace it, you feel it. You're not mad at it. You're not trying to push it away, but there's a still voice or a voice that comes up where you could say, oh, maybe there's something I can change that would help me. This is a little bit different than pushing it away or being upset about how you feel, adding an extra layer to the pain that you already have. It's a quieter, still, wise voice that just says.04:23Maybe there's a different way. Coming back to this feeling of dissatisfaction. Maybe some of that is pretty normal. Maybe there isn't a whole lot I can do to change it. Maybe that dissatisfaction is inherent with the current way a lot of people's lives are set up.04:41Thich Nhat Hanh said, if while washing the dishes, we think only of the cup of tea that awaits us, thus hurrying to get the dishes out of the way as if they were a nuisance, then we are not, quote, washing the dishes to wash the dishes, end quote. What's more, we are not alive during the time we are washing the dishes. In fact, we are completely incapable of realizing the miracle of life while standing at the sink. If we can't wash the dishes, the chances are we won't be05:09able to drink the tea either. While drinking the cup of tea, we will only be thinking of other things, barely aware of the cup in our hands. Thus, we are sucked away into the future and we are incapable of actually living one minute of life. Thich Nhat Hanh, the miracle of mindfulness.05:27Mundane activities can be a doorway to awakening for us. They are opportunities for mindfulness and presence. And there is no mundane activity. Everything becomes sacred by our awareness. When we tap in and we live the philosophy that everything is workable, everything is usable, then everything becomes sacred. Everything becomes our teacher and we are awakened and enlivened by our life, just as it is.05:59We can take the awareness we cultivate through our formal practice of meditation, zazen or mindfulness practice, and we can take that into anything we do. We can take it into doing the dishes. We can smell the soap. We can feel the gross outness because, man, maybe we didn't do dishes for a week, which seems to be the case for me sometimes. We can feel the heat of the water on our hands and listen to the scrub brush as it breaks away the dried-on food from a whole week, you pig.06:29But we can tap into what's happening in that moment. Where's our attention? Is it on the present? Is it in this moment? And if it isn't, maybe we can ask ourselves why. And we don't wanna get into a bunch more thinking. But if it's a simple answer, it's usually true. Sometimes when I ask myself, why am I not present? Well, doing the dishes or rock climbing or driving to pick up my wife. It's because either A, I'm just not aware and I'm letting my mind drift, which is natural.06:59Or B, there's something that in my life right now I'm not wanting to feel, I'm not wanting to deal with. I would rather it not exist. And so I purposely or unconsciously put my attention somewhere else. I daydream or I uninhabit my life.07:21Everything is workable, even positive experiences. They may not have the pull that suffering does, because suffering really can pull you right into the moment, right into your body, because it's so intense. Positive experiences can teach us a lot. Yeah, it feels, number one, it feels great to have a positive experience, something that goes our way, or to spend time with someone we really love and enjoy, where moments flow together, and there's a sense of ease and happiness and joy.07:51It's pretty easy to be mindful in those moments, although a lot of people aren't. They're worried about losing that moment. When's it gonna be over?08:01I know that I'm guilty of that with my marriage. My marriage I'm very happy in. I love my wife and my partner, but I can't help but think of what happens when it's gone. How am I gonna feel? I don't wanna lose this. I can tap in right now and experience this moment, cherish it, and realize that it is fleeting, and that all the warring in the world will not change this moment from not being at some point, whether that's 10 minutes.08:29An hour, a day, a year, 50 years, there was going to be a moment where this experience will be no more. When we tap into the present moment, we experience the joy of life. And we can also see that it's transitory and learn the lesson that all things are transitory. We see this in our pain, we see this in our joy, and it makes us much more appreciative of what is happening. If it is joyful, we can really savor it and be appreciative for what it is.08:58Wow, I have a wife, a partner that time flows easily for us. We get along, we laugh, we have adventures. We experience really beautiful things. She brings the best out of me, helps me see the world in a more bright and beautiful way. And I can cherish that and savor that now, knowing that it isn't forever. If someone told me, hey, Matt, your dad's gonna die when you're 19 and it's gonna be one of the most transformational experiences of your life and in...09:2610 years, when you're 29, you might even say, hey, I'm thankful that I went through that experience the way that I did. I would be like, you're full of shit. I'm not thankful that my father passed, but I'm thankful for the lessons that I learned in that challenge. And we can start to approach the challenging circumstances of our life as lessons. We can start to be present with challenges, whether that's a new job, new partner, maybe something somebody said that was hard for us to accept.09:56Maybe it's a book or a new workout routine. Maybe the challenge is just simply getting out of bed and talking to somebody.10:06Challenges transform us and they allow us to realize who we truly are at our deepest core level. When we submit ourselves to challenge, working through it, growing and doing our best, a lot of the illusory weakness that we've adopted through conditioning drops away and we can find our core as a creative human being illuminated with awareness.10:34When we embrace difficulty, it often leads to personal breakthroughs and our spiritual development. In Zen, you find teachers that will walk around the zendo, typically in Japan, more formal settings, and they have a stick and they'll smack somebody to wake them up or get them back into line. They're challenging that practitioner to keep their focus, to stay aware, to stay upright in their posture and their mind. Going to multi-day11:02Retreats has been a challenge and people would ask me like, are you crazy? What are you doing? I've only ever done, I think maybe a five day or three day retreat, which is nothing compared to some people. But I know that for me, it was a challenge at the time. I was a little bit nervous going into it. And during it, I found strength that I didn't know was there. I found a wherewithal that I didn't know was there. And I found that experience was workable. That each moment I had little choices I could make and it was workable.11:32Now what about the mundane? Riding the train to work, walking the block to the convenience store, waiting in line for your Starbucks coffee. The mundane, even the mundane holds the same wisdom and awakening that the other more extreme moments hold, such as joy and suffering. We can tap into the present moment no matter where we are, standing in line. Starbucks, we can see the faces around us.12:02smell the coffee in the air, feel our breath coming in and out of our bodies, and we can actually start to see the miracle of life all around us. We can tap into that as a reality. The mundane experiences are usable.12:17There is no reality other than this present moment. When we daydream of the future, we're doing it from the present moment. When we regret the past, we're doing it in the present moment. We're a step removed from reality. And we're a step removed from ourselves if we're totally caught in that thinking mind and identified with all the thoughts that it's churning out. Even that is usable.12:41When we embrace the philosophy that everything is usable, you start to realize that within your pain, within your joy, in your fear, within the subtle sensations that you might experience, within the light and colors all around you, there is a depth of experience deeper than our mental projections of the things around us. Instead of looking at this tall, slender being in front of us and saying, tree, bark, those are pine needles,13:11It's green and brown. We have a deeper experience of the thing that we look at.13:17Katagiri in his book, Returning to Silence says, the pure sense of emptiness means vastness. Your existence is not just in the small scale of the world. It is vast. This is the pure sense of moment. But if you see the moment from just your individual viewpoint, it becomes limited. The pure sense of moment is vast. Immediately, your individual existence expands to all sentient beings. This is total manifestation. It is not just an aspect of human life.13:46It is the real portrait of existence itself.13:55Thanks so much for stopping in and listening today. I appreciate you being a part of the Imperfect Buddhist community. Keep an eye out for new episodes and please consider liking, subscribing, and commenting, leaving your thoughts about the show in your favorite podcast provider, whether that's Apple, Spotify, or Amazon. Your reviews and comments help other people discover what we're doing here.14:21I hope you have a wonderful rest of your week and I look forward to talking to you next time. Bye.Support this podcast at — https://redcircle.com/the-imperfect-buddhist/donations

Continuing with the drive-time focus from the last segment is in keeping with the current thrust of UnMind. Each segment consists of a dissertation on issues typical of the USA, and coping with the international scope of global citizenship. Such concerns as over-consumption and the cult of the individual, plus lingering hangovers from 19th- and 20th-century ideas regarding right speech, action and livelihood, the right conduct sided of the Noble Eightfold Path, recur throughout as themes. The halo effect of right meditation proves to be our saving grace, in meeting, and managing to maintain, a genuine Zen practice in the face of daily life in a chaotic world. I would like to key off of one of our Paramitas, or “perfecting practices,” the very first one, concerning Dana, or generosity. I suggest that you might practice generosity with yourself while driving in traffic, which may strike you as an odd concept. But if you can be truly generous with yourself, it is much easier to be generous with others.According to my limited understanding of classical Buddhism, and likely the proto-Hinduism that preceded Buddhism, karmic consequences of our actions may be positive, negative, and even neutral. But there will be consequences, regardless. The judgment call as to whether a consequence may be regarded as positive or negative is based upon human perception and desire. Certain consequences, and outcomes, we want to happen; others we want to avoid like the plague. Incidentally, The first Plague of history turns out to be an unintended consequence of human activity. It was reputedly transmitted by commuters traveling along the Silk Road, with a generous assist from our rat cousins, and their fleas. Nowadays, the greatest threat of pandemics is the enormous scope of human travel by land, sea, and, especially, by air. Every human being is, for the first time in history, one plane ride away from every other human being on the planet.That any karmic consequence may be neutral — rather than necessarily positive or negative — may be a new idea to you. As an instance: if we continue breathing for the next five minutes, we are more likely to continue living. If we stop breathing for the next five minutes, then we will likely die. Whether this is a positive or negative consequence is, again, a judgment call. In most cases, life is preferable to death; but there are exceptions to the rule, which has become more of an issue with the life-extending technology available in modern medicine. The relatively neutral consequence is simply that life goes on, as long as we are breathing. But it may be in a vegetative state.From a general, social perspective, life going on, and increased longevity, is considered a positive consequence, considering the alternative. In that sense, we are all consumers of life. So, the more, the better. From the perspective of Buddhism, we might say that longevity is desirable mainly in that living longer allows us more time, more opportunity, to awaken to the truth. This spiritual awakening is the highest value in Buddhism and Zen. “Buddha” means the “fully awakened one.” A consequence of Buddha's life's work is that we all have now been enabled to become aware of this truth, or Dharma.For example, dukkha, a Sanskrit word usually translated as “suffering,” points to the unsatisfactory nature of this existence, encapsulated as “aging, sickness, and death.” This is the quagmire into which all sentient beings are born, and find themselves enmeshed. The wealthiest person in the world cannot turn back the clock, despite the hopeful claims of the medical and therapeutic professions; the cosmetics industry; plastic surgeons, et cetera. We see caricatures of this aspiration on a daily basis, for instance when certain botox and facelift icons appear on television. Or we see snapshots of the passing pageantry of life in Los Angeles and Manhattan, where women, in particular, as well as men, well into their 50s, 60s and older, strive to age gracefully by maintaining the outer appearance of an ingénue, or a dashing heartthrob. No amount of wealth can prevent some forms of illness, in the final stages of life. Particularly when one's lifestyle itself amounts to a cocktail of causes that accelerate the deterioration of body and mind, such as over-eating, smoking, taking recreational and diet drugs, and drinking alcohol to excess. The lifestyles of the rich and famous are often notorious for this kind of self-destructive dissolution, if you believe the press, which tends to exaggerate.Science fiction to the contrary, no amount of wealth can forestall forever the death of this body and mind, in spite of earnest life-extending efforts in geriatric medicine and cryogenics. The sometimes frantic activities surrounding preservation of life, as witnessed in the Terry Schiavo case, for example, betray a profound fear of death and dying. This fear naturally emerges as a fear of aging, the evidence provided by visible, gradual, long-term, symptoms we see in the mirror each day. Of course, we do what we can, but it is futile to postpone the inevitable. An old Chinese poem includes the line, “Save the body; it is the fruit of many lives.” But we cannot save it in the sense of preserving it forever. Other than as a mummy, which historically has been the fate of some Zen ancestors as well as Egyptian royalty.We who follow Zen do not arrogantly dismiss such fears as baseless. Nor do we pretend that Zen practice will allow us to go quietly into that dark night, though Zen's history is replete with stories of masters dying with great dignity and composure. Zen is not overly optimistic in this regard. It does not present a pollyannaish view of existence, promising a heavenly rose garden after death. Nor is Zen overly pessimistic. We don't bemoan the fact that this existence is, intrinsically, of the nature of suffering, or impermanence, imperfection, and insubstantiality. We don't insist that the natural process of aging, sickness and death is necessarily a negative consequence of existence. It is simply a consequence of existence. And, thus, our physical fate falls into the neutral category of karmic consequences.In this way, Zen is simply realistic about the causes and conditions that we all face in life. Its teachings do not suggest, pretend, or imagine that there could be some other outcome. In Zen, coming to this clarity regarding karma is regarded as a kind of spiritual maturity.We can usefully regard these causes and conditions, the “givens” of the equations of life, as natural koans, illogical riddles. Koans are not to be solved in the sense of finding a logical answer, as I get it. I understand that they are used as a central part of training in the Rinzai sect. In Soto Zen, we don't make programmatic use of the 1700 or so classic koans in the record. But instead we recognize the reality in which we find ourselves, the very spacetime continuum — to borrow Einstein's phrase — in which we are sitting at the moment, whether in the zendo or in the driver's seat, as our immediate koan. This very reality “in front of your face” is the primordial koan. An ancient Chinese poem reminds us: Emptiness here, emptiness there but the infinite universe stands always before your eyes“Emptiness” is used here to name the ideal of Buddhism and Zen: clarity of insight into the dynamic reality of existence. It does not indicate the “void” as the ultimate reality, set against our normal perception of everyday reality as being an illusion. This is not something we recommend obsessing over at full speed, or in bumper-to-bumper traffic. But this infinite universe, standing always before our eyes, is the real koan, the koan of everyday existence. It is the meaning of everyday life that we have to penetrate, whether we realize it or not. There is no choice in the matter. Penetrating to the depths of it may result in realizing that “every day is a happy day; every day is a good day,” another old Zen expression. We should add “regardless” — regardless of circumstance, that is.Most of our conventional cultural memes, as prescriptions for happiness — getting your go-to-hell-money; retiring to a life of travel and playing golf, and so on — can be seen, in this context, as avoidance techniques, evasive maneuvers. This kind of goal orientation amounts to a kind of self-indulgent cognitive therapy, in which we attempt to replace unpleasant thoughts — of failure, indebtedness, and so on — with pleasant ones. In which we attempt to conjure up a comfortable fantasy, in place of our dissatisfactory reality.This is a natural tendency, and actively promoted by the culture, particularly in the West. So we should not beat ourselves up too badly over the fact that we have fallen for this societal scam. Most highly touted concepts of happiness are designed and intended as marketing devices to sell us products and services, as well as alternative lifestyles. Those that most closely match the archetypal American dream come with the highest price tag. But the choices we have are not limited to only those that we think we can afford, within an economic paradigm. Zen is sometimes considered not immoral, but amoral, because it recognizes that we have complete free will at all times, and in every particular situation. That is, as long as we are willing to face the consequences — whether negative, positive, neutral, and unintended — of whatever actions we take. For example, many people are out of work, looking for a job, or changing jobs. The world economy is forcing a re-evaluation of the definition of a “job” as paid employment provided by someone else. A job includes a place of work to which one goes every day, commuting to the office or factory; checking in or punching a time clock, under the watchful eye of management; and after putting in a sufficient effort for the day, returning to the comforts of home. These and other outdated cultural memes, customs and habits can affect our view of reality in subconscious, even insidious, ways.But in our meditation practice, we are encouraged by Master Dogen — founder of Soto Zen in 13th century Japan, to stop the ordinary functions of the mind, setting aside all thoughts of good and evil, right or wrong. It is necessary to point out that this instruction, or advice, is intended to be followed mainly while we are on the cushion. When we leave the cushion, and go into daily life — get into the car, and enter onto the expressway — we are constantly faced with choices of good and evil, right and wrong. We must make judgments regarding the behavior of others, which we cannot ignore beyond a certain point, as well as concerning our own behavior. Once again, in all of these instances, Zen is neither overly optimistic or overly pessimistic. It is simply realistic.So this aspirational idea, that if we could somehow set aside all considerations of good and evil, right and wrong — that we can live blissfully unaware of all the obvious good and evil, right and wrong in the world and thus be happy — is tempered by the pragmatic nature of our Zen practice. Even when we sit on the cushion, we cannot completely avoid suffering, in the sense of the good and evil influences in our lives, and the right and wrong choices that we have made, and that we are forced to make, on a daily basis. The point is that it isour choice. And the consequences that flow naturally from the choice — from the action, or lack of action that we take — are also ours. Whether karmic or not.Some old wise man said, “Through change, consume change.” Change is all there is. But we try to maintain status quo, out of fear of losing control. It is already out of our control.As Ambrose Bierce pointed out in The Devil's Dictionary, what we call an accident is, paraphrasing widely, actually the inevitable result of immutable physical law. So if you become distracted by this podcast, and run into the car in front of you, that so-called accident is the inevitable result of the immutable laws of physics, as well as of the choices you made that led to it. And, while you might have prevented it, if you did not prevent it, still, it was no accident. Your driving in traffic is no accident. Nor is listening to my podcast.So be careful out there. If you consider that the driver of that vehicle that just recklessly cut in front of you may be someone you know and like, who is just under a lot more stress than you are at the moment, it may make it easier to respond to the situation in an appropriate manner, without adding the overlay of anger and condemnation that we reserve for strangers. It may also make you safer in the long run.Once you are safely ensconced back on your cushion, you might remember what it was like when you were on the commute, and come to appreciate your zazen even more.

Jody Hojin Kimmel, Sensei - ZCNYC - 7/16/2023 - Hojin cites the case "Advice of the Caterpillar," written by Daido Roshi on the conversation between Alice and the Caterpillar, from Alice in Wonderland. The Caterpillar asks Alice "Who Are You?" In Zen practice, this is one of the central inquiries: Who are we, really?

(A)theismTheism, okay —But not without its flip sideBoth is and is not.Continuing our discussion of addiction and theism, along with atheism, we will focus more tightly on alcohol, as one addiction amongst many. I contacted an associate we will refer to as Buddy C, who for some years has hosted a Taoist AA recovery group online, focusing on one verse of the Tao te Ching each week. I would join on one afternoon per month to add my two bits on the verse from the perspective of Zen. I interviewed Buddy regarding the twelve-step program for liberation from alcohol, which as I mentioned in the last segment, tends to receive a lot of attention in the press, though marijuana is beginning to challenge it for coverage, as it becomes legal in many states for medical and recreational purposes. Perhaps the term “doppleganger” used in the last segment is not entirely appropriate to characterize atheism's relationship to theism, since it means an exact double of a person or entity. Atheism is not a look-alike for theism, but one suspects that a contrarian belief has meaning only in the context of the belief being refuted. At best, it is a codependent relationship. But let us leave that debate to the experts. Let's also set aside the broader definition of addiction as applying to all aspects of life. For this segment I will structure my comments around Buddy's email to me, outlining AA's 12 steps to recovery from alcoholism. Using Buddy's initial, in place of his last name, is in keeping with AA's emphasis on anonymity in its approach, which is very Zen. Buddy explained that the 12 steps are structured in 3 sections: Surrender; Inventory and Amends; and Maintenance. Beginning with surrender, the steps are expressed in the past tense, as if they are already accomplished. This calls to mind the introductory lines to Tozan Ryokai's Ch'an poem Hokyo Zammai—Precious Mirror Samadhi: The dharma of suchness is intimately transmitted from West to EastNow you have it preserve it well This presumes we already have this dharma, whether we know it or not. Perhaps we already enjoy the benefits of sobriety, whether we know it or not. This posits the made-up self versus the true self, a central dilemma in Buddhist thought, and perhaps in life in general.Let's look at what surrender entails in AA. In Zen, the very posture zazen is one of surrender. 1. We admitted we were powerless over alcohol—that our lives had become unmanageable. Humbling, to have to admit to the fact that a mere physical substance is winning the battle. This is similar to the Repentance verse of Zen: All my past and harmful karma Born from beginningless greed, anger and delusionThrough body, mouth and mindI now fully avow Like the preceding verse, AA addresses a broader view of ourselves, rather than the specific issue of alcoholism. Zen also takes this broader perspective, asking not “Why me, Lord?” but “Why not me?” Avowing, confession, and admission, are all the same act – fessing up to what we acknowledge as the reality of our existence, and our limited control over it. A key concept to remember is that our consequential actions, or karma, and the desires that trigger them, come with the territory of being a human being. To that degree, they are not our fault. Where we go off the rails is in how we react, or respond, to them. Buddy tells me that AA has an acronym for the main triggers of relapse when one is starting the recovery process: H-A-L-T — or “halt.” The letters stand for “hungry,” “angry,” “lonely,” and “tired.” The admonition is to stay alert to these emotional and physical states, and take action to cope with them before they have a chance to trigger craving for alcohol as our default reaction. Same for other O-C behaviors. 2. We came to believe that a Power greater than ourselves could restore us to sanity. Buddy pointed out that his understanding of what Zen is pointing to seems similar. Every book in our various reading groups suggests something similar, that there is something there that we can rely on, often expressed as buddha-mind, original mind, even buddhas and bodhisattvas — and if we go there, embracing the notion that there may be something beyond our puny powers as a human being, it can be a bridge to something greater. Matsuoka roshi would often speak of this power, if not in religious terms: “If you can put your whole self into this simple act of sitting, you will gain the power to put yourself into everything you do, and become the strongest person in the world.” Note that Sensei was not referencing a supernatural power outside oneself, but in a very real sense it does not matter what worldview, Christian or otherwise, you bring to Zen. If you persist in sitting still enough for long enough, you will inevitably return to the clarity, and sanity, of the Original Mind of Zen. 3. We made a decision to turn our will and our lives over to the care of God as we understood Him. Buddy also took pains to make clear that this higher power doesn't have to mean “God” — Him or Her — which universalizes the 12-step process, taking it out of the exclusive camp of Christianity, or any and all theistic traditions. 4. We made a searching and fearless moral inventory of ourselves. Buddy made a point of emphasizing that addictive behavior is primarily based on fears: the fear of being embarrassed, by our family, for example. Or a generalized fear of not being enough, not good enough. Or a fear of being a failure, or not achieving the success we expect, about which the Tao te Ching has a compelling question: “Which is more destructive — success or failure?” Fear of not getting something we want, or losing something we have. These are all examples of living in the future, not in the moment. The attitude in AA is to resist acting based on these fears. Buddy says the twelve steps reveal how we try to control, and attach to our expectations, arising out of stress, and anxiety that others will come to know our secrets. An example Buddy and others share, is that our son or daughter did not go to college, a wasted opportunity, a fear of shame and a source of anger about that, which affects your relationships. But this anger is misplaced; we are angry owing to our own failure to have helped the situation positively. Similarly, Matsuoka Roshi would emphasize that the Precept of not indulging in anger does not mean that we never feel anger, which he likened to cutting water with a knife leaving no trace; but that we do not speak out of anger, which leaves a groove like cutting sand; nor act out of anger, which is like cutting stone — the scar takes forever to wear smooth again. This inventory approach of AA recalls the so-called “mirror of Zen” — the undifferentiated awareness that reflects the good, bad, and the ugly, without discrimination. Buddy notes that the inventory includes how we have been harmed by others, as well as how we have harmed others. Recognizing the harm others visit upon us is the more natural, knee-jerk reaction to social transactions in general, at its worst engendering victim mentality. But here, we are to take a fearless look at our own part, the role we play in the transaction. This is akin to remembering the Buddhist Precepts, as we repeatedly break them. “Turning the light inward,” “peeling the onion back,” getting some relief from those fears in the process. 5. We admitted to God, to ourselves, and to another human being, the exact nature of our wrongs. This confessional approach is found in all religious and psychological systems, it seems. Buddy contends that the recovery process flipped his belief system upside down. He used to rely on his beliefs first, but now belief doesn't matter so much — action comes first. Acting our way into right thinking, versus thinking our way into right action. Even if that action is only in the form of prayer, it begins opening your heart; you begin to change. I suppose you have to find the right person to open up to, just as you have to have an affinity with any other kind of mentor, including Zen. 6. We were entirely ready to have God remove all these defects of character. Being “entirely ready” would necessarily entail having entirely given up on our own futile efforts. In Zen, we have to “trust in Mind,” capital “M,” relinquishing our usual dependence on discriminating mind. If there is a God, one thing is sure — it's not you. The “higher power,” however you conceive it, has to be other than self. In this regard, Buddy maintains, everyone has their own “god language”: the way they describe what is greater than themselves. This spiritual language comes with various dialects, much like spoken languages. Zen and AA alike encourage an openminded approach to life, including our approach to the idea of God. 7. We humbly asked God to remove our shortcomings. Buddy mentioned that, for him, “God” is now experienced as “love” — love for others, as well as for oneself, I suppose. This is the message of the Metta Sutta, or “Loving Kindness Sutra,” attributed to Buddha. If you cannot in some way love yourself, you will have a difficult time truly loving someone else. In AA, self-love is realized by loving others; the act of love toward another changes us. Buddy also mentioned overcoming our character flaws. A great jazz singer I once knew said something similar: she said that if you love someone, you have to love their faults as well. 8. We made a list of all persons we had harmed, and became willing to make amends to them all. A more specific, and personal inventory. Buddy pointed out that when we are addicted, we stop maturing — in ways other than physical. I said I thought that the hangover the next morning would give you a clue, but he said some alcoholics never have a hangover. Instead, they take a drink, the “hair of the dog,” so they have a bit of a buzz going at all times. This is what is called a “functioning alcoholic,” and it leads to the familiar health issues associated with alcohol poisoning. 9. We made direct amends to such people wherever possible, except when to do so would injure them or others. Again, if you start using alcohol at the age of sixteen, you basically stay at that level of development as your body continues aging. This expression, “using,” is in reference to any drug of choice, so it is worth asking the question, when you are sober — “using to do what?” — to address the moment in which you find yourself, with all its unsatisfactoriness, one definition of Buddhism's “dukkha” — suffering — or to escape from it. Drugs and alcohol are popular because they work — until they don't. One way out of this dilemma is to start helping others immediately, according to AA's “Big Book.” In particular, to help another alcoholic. In one case, a person volunteered to work in the “wet brain” ward of the local hospital, where long-term alcoholics are disabled, their brains having been poisoned by drinking. There is a tradition in Buddhism of monks & nuns volunteering for hospice & funeral duty for similar reasons, to be near death and dying for their own sake of facing up to their own fears. In both cases, mental and psychological disorders are seen as a three-part disease — on spiritual, mental & physical levels. The theory is that if you take care of the spiritual — helping others is helping yourself — the other two will take care of themselves. 10. We continued to take personal inventory and when we were wrong promptly admitted it. Buddy described this need for constant diligence and vigilance as analogous to the hand being unaware of the body. If we are unaware of what is happening — disconnected from the full context of our being-in-the-environment, we fall back into the fantasyland of addiction. Compassion can only be practiced in this moment. Unrealistic fears always pull us out of the moment into the past with regret, and into the future with worry, both of which are basic forms of fantasy. 11. We sought through prayer and meditation to improve our conscious contact with God as we understood Him, praying only for knowledge of His will for us and the power to carry that out. If and when we fall off the wagon, thinking it okay to take just one drink, the trope is that “You have a drink; the drink has a drink, then the drink has you.” The alcohol or drug immediately affects your judgment, rationalizing the second drink, and here we go again. Zen's model of the mind includes what is referred to as “nen” in Japanese, incorporating three levels: first-, second-, and third-level nen. As I understand the term, translated as something like “thought-moment,” the three levels in reverse order are higher thinking, middling cogitation, and basic mentation, roughly corresponding to a simple model of the brain: neocortex, midbrain and brain stem. When we sit still enough for long enough in meditation, our conscious awareness naturally proceeds through a process of adaptation, progressing from more complex thinking, sometimes called “monkey-mind,” to a simpler focus on sensory awareness, and finally to a merging of subject and object. So I suppose it can be considered a kind of regression, back to the Original Mind. Perhaps drugs and alcohol have a similar effect, where for a time at least, when intoxicated, we are relieved of the burden of confronting the more complex nature of existence. One difference is that meditation cannot be addictive, although you might try to use it as an escape. Good luck with that. 12. Having had a spiritual awakening as the result of these steps, we tried to carry this message to alcoholics, and to practice these principles in all our affairs. In this regard, Buddy mentioned that “A drug is a drug is a drug,” yes — but “recovery is recovery is recovery,” no — Buddy noted that alcohol is mentioned only once — in the first step. Different addictive substances require different strategies for withdrawal. This was confirmed by a half-dozen MDs who once attended the Zen center as part of a rehabilitation program for their variety of addictions, which they explained do not depend on the substance alone, but on its particular interaction with the metabolism and psyche of the individual. So both programs, Zen and AA, posit a kind of spiritual awakening or insight as an intermediate goal, so to say, but we are not done yet. When Master Dogen returned from his awakening experience in China, he claimed that his life's work was over, but that he felt the weight of the world on his shoulders. The work in the personal sphere was largely complete, but that of the social sphere was just beginning. Similar to Zen's expression, “Watch your feet!” Buddy says AA recommends keeping your head down, and being where your feet are, rather than relying on thinking to reason your way out of the problem of everyday life. This mentality is likened to walking with a dim flashlight at night, where you are seeing only the next step, i.e. doing the next right thing, and being vulnerable to what arises. In Zen, this worldview is sometimes referred to as “living by vow” — an open-ended commitment to “being here now,” as Ram Dass titled his seminal book. In the prior segment I quoted the founder of Soto Zen in China, reminding us that “Whether teachings and approaches are mastered or not, reality constantly flows.” Get with the flow, and get over the addiction. We are not in control, but we don't have to be out of control. Not yet sure where the next segment will take us on our exploration of this “Original Frontier” of UnMind, but please join me on the journey.

Your zazen may leadTo a kind of gravitas —But it's only Zen.* * *“Gravity,” the John Mayer song that won a Grammy in 2005, begins with the lines:Gravity is working against me And gravity wants to bring me downTruer words, as we say. One of the four fundamental forces, as defined by Google:There are four fundamental forces at work in the universe: the strong force, the weak force, the electromagnetic force, and the gravitational force. They work over different ranges and have different strengths. Gravity is the weakest but it has an infinite range.Gravity is said to be the constant teacher, for a toddler who is just learning to stand. Every time they finally get their balance — boom! — they fall down again. With repetition, they finally learn how to maintain balance even while walking, which has been described, dynamically, as falling forward and catching yourself with your feet. Some animals, like horses, are born ready to walk, with a little help.With repetition over time, we adapt to gravity and lose awareness of it, until we don't. Zen's walking meditation, kinhin in Japanese, is a bit like learning to walk all over again. We raise our elbows to shoulder-level to act as outriggers for balance. If you find yourself losing your balance from time to time, you are doing kinhin correctly. Like a tightrope walker, we become more aware of the precariousness of our balance. We also become sensitive to the long-term effects of gravity on our body shrinking with age. I have lost about 3 inches so far, my own personal version of the incredible shrinking man.When we feel we are losing our balance, an increasingly common and dangerous issue as we age, we experience a sense of dizziness, or vertigo. If we actually fall down, we experience the acceleration of gravity, with the unpleasant slam of our body mass on the ground. But typically we are unaware of the constant pull of the gravitational field. What we refer to as “weight” is the measure of the mass of an object, such as our body, in thrall to the gravitational mass of the Earth. It is said to be about six times that of the moon. One would assume from this that for every planetary or other celestial body, the mass of the being's body, moving within the orbit or g-force field generated by the mass of the larger body, would determine the relative weight of that being, in that particular context. So what, you say? Consider that in zazen, because we sit still for relatively long periods of time in an upright posture, our relation to gravity is relatively constant. So the ability to once again feel gravity as a constant comes into play. It becomes obvious when we are meditating that we are out of balance, leaning one way or the other, rather than sitting upright, which ordinarily we do not feel, having adapted to our usually crooked posture. This is why we do the rocking motion as we are settling in, to find our center in the field of gravity, like a metal filing lining up on a magnet. Rising for walking meditation, we become acutely aware of moving in gravity, at an excruciatingly slow pace. And when we return to the cushion, we feel the immersive embrace of gravity, as we once again settle into the zazen posture. As we enter into deeper physical samadhi — equipoise or equilibrium — the forces of gravity and their impact on the various parts of the body even out, resulting in a sense of effortlessness, even a sensation of floating. Our sense of time undergoes a similar reorientation to that of our position in space, which will be a subject for a future segment of UnMind.Falling back to gravity for the time being: If you picture yourself sitting on the globe of the earth, like a tetrahedron perched on a sphere, you can see that the peak of the tetrahedron would lie on a radius that runs to and from the center of the planet to the crown of your head. This illustrates what Matsuoka Roshi called “sitting-mountain-feeling,” which he used to indicate how one knows when the posture is perfectly balanced. He also described it as if the top of your skull is pressing against the ceiling. Extremely solid and stable. Of course, the human body is more complex than a geometric figure. But when all the bones of the skeleton are arrayed properly, and the tension or turgor in the musculature membrane is evenly distributed, it feels as if the body is composed of one material throughout — wood, stone, or metal. You have become a statue, so to speak, with gravity pulling down on you from below, atmospheric pressure bearing down from on high.Gravity is a central operating principle of the universe, according to the science of (astro)physics; Dharma & karma may be said to be operating principles of reality, according to the teachings of Buddhism. Note that I said “teachings,” not “beliefs.” Buddhism is not a system of beliefs, but rather what we may call conjectures, concerning the true causes and conditions of our existence. One of which — a big one — is gravity. The most difficult-to-embrace aspect of the definition quoted above is its imputed “infinite range.” That it is the weakest of the fundamental four is a bit slippery as well. It certainly seems that it would have to be stronger than forces operating only at a microscopic level, and only at very close range. But gravity can not overcome these other micro-forces, fortunately for us.It may be appropriate here to interject another parallel I find between science and Zen, according to my poor understanding of both: Even Einstein did not “understand” gravity; even Buddha did not “understand” Dharma, or karma. These principles, or phenomena — again, not beliefs — are beyond understanding, in any ultimate sense. This is not merely a semantic quibble, but goes to the essence of the concepts of gravity, Dharma, and karma. They are real beyond concept, in some sense, but also, in their ubiquity, not really “findable.” Like most fundamental phenomena, they cannot be isolated.Let's entertain a thought experiment regarding gravity, no offense to the great Master physicist. Who, by the way, was known to sit in a chair holding his pen, and drift off into a kind of meditative reverie, which he described as not exactly thinking, but “visceral” in nature. At a certain point he would lose consciousness, dropping the pen, which would wake him up. Then he would retrieve the pen and start over again. This sounds, by the way, similar to Hakuin Zenji's “Naikan Tanden” healing exercise, with which you may be familiar, designed to help you get a good night's sleep, and which we sometimes practice on overnight retreats. When you are lying in bed, trying to fall asleep, picture yourself floating in space, safe and sound on your mattress. Once you can feel your whole body's position, or proprioception, imagine that your bed suddenly disappears. What happens? You instantly fall to the floor with a thud, subject to Newton's second law, the acceleration of gravity, at 9.8 meters or 32 feet per second squared, or “per second per second.” So the thud, accelerating only a couple of feet from the disappearing mattress to the floor, is already considerably more than your body mass. That's going to hurt.Now if you imagine the floor disappearing as well, you fall into the basement or crawl space, at a proportionately greater acceleration, and corresponding thud, or splat. So while we may perceive that we are relatively free of gravity, it is a form of delusion, based on sensory adaptation. Falling off a cliff, we would impact a series of surfaces with greater and greater force, as we approached the bottom. We are constantly in danger of being flattened like Wile E. Coyote, or sucked into a sinkhole or quicksand, if we step off the edge of whatever surface is between us and the slippery slope of the gravity sink.“All things are like this,” again quoting one of Master Dogen's favorite and frequent constructions. What we are actually feeling, at all times, is the pull and drag of gravity, along with our body's resistance and adaptation to it. When we sit in zazen, a kind of reverse-adaptation sets in, where we become sensitized to the fact that we have adapted to sensory input, including most especially gravity, the most constant and unforgiving force acting upon us, but also a panoply of others, such as the effect of light and dark with the daily cycle of revolution of the planet. The latest fad in the meditation and retreat business, made famous by none other than Aaron Rogers, the celebrity professional football quarterback, consists of immersion in total darkness — requiring absolute shielding of the subject from any natural light. Zen instead recognizes that there is no need to go to that extreme, as indicated in the Ch'an poem by Master Sengcan: Sandokai—Harmony of Sameness and Difference:In the light there is darknessBut do not take it as darknessIn the dark there is lightBut do not see it as lightPerhaps the attraction of immersion in darkness can be understood from a Zen perspective, as suggested in a later Ch'an poem, Hokyo Zammai—Precious Mirror Samadhi:In darkest night it is perfectly clearIn the light of dawn it is hiddenThese translations always beg the question: What, exactly, is referred to as “it”? It, of course, is the meaning and effect of the practice of Zen, its raison d'etre. It is also our reason for being, from a deeply philosophical perspective. Some great sage lost to my memory said something to the effect that knowing this “it” in the morning, it is okay to die in the evening. Master Dogen wrote, when returning from his sojourn in China, that his life's work was finished. So this “it” is IT – is everything, the only thing in life truly worth pursuing. Which brings up the principle of gravity in another context: what is the most grave aspect, or dimension, of life? Declaring death to be the answer may be true, but a bit glib.In Zen, as in most philosophical, religious schools of thought, and even in professions, such as medicine, we find precepts – fundamental tenets that are expressed as the wisdom and working principles of the field. In Buddhism, there are ten such that are referred to as “grave” precepts, those that determine or define key parameters of the life of a Bodhisattva or Buddha, not to mention that of a lowly follower of Zen. What is grave about them is that they address the most fraught dimensions of life and behavior, such as killing, stealing, lying, and so forth. For which everyone already harbors some kind of precept, though it may not rise to the level of conscious intent and awareness, as in Zen.One final thought on gravitas, which, being a human perception operative mainly on the social level, does not carry the weight of gravity — no pun intended — and so is undeserving of the same degree of consideration. My only comment is that through the practice of meditation — that is, of the real zazen — it may appear that you develop a kind of gravitas, charisma, or magnetic personality, a depth of seriousness that others find intriguing or attractive, even before you have any real insight into the truth of Zen. Don't let it go to your head. It is only a side-effect of zazen. Not sure where the next segment will take us. Down another rabbit-hole in the wonderland of Zen and Design Thinking, for sure. Maybe the space-time thing. And maybe this time we will come out on the other side of the wormhole.* * *Elliston Roshi is guiding teacher of the Atlanta Soto Zen Center and abbot of the Silent Thunder Order. He is also a gallery-represented fine artist expressing his Zen through visual poetry, or “music to the eyes.”UnMind is a production of the Atlanta Soto Zen Center in Atlanta, Georgia and the Silent Thunder Order. You can support these teachings by PayPal to donate@STorder.org. Gassho.Producer: Shinjin Larry Little

Sometimes we can unintentionally spiritually bypass activism, thinking and believing “we are all one” and having “high vibes only” is enough… Or, on the flip side, we get burned our because we're too overwhelmed trying to make a difference with very complex issues. But it's so important that these tendencies don't turn us away from activism, because caring and taking action is part of our spiritual practice. Many social activists are feeling the need to root their activism in spirituality, in more compassion and more presence - not just from action-oriented goals, but also from a deeper spiritual root. When I think back to my own path in terms of social activism, in high school I was very involved with peace work and I organized boycotts against GE because they made the triggers for nuclear bombs and whatnot. In college I started volunteering for feminist causes, environmental issues, and more community activism. Then I started taking meditation classes, so one night I would go to a political meeting and I'd hear these angry, hostile things and bitter name-calling, and the next night I would be in a bliss state on my cushion feeling so calm. The worlds felt disconnected and at odds with one another. I wanted to bring them closer together. But how? Albert Einstein said, “You cannot solve a problem with the same mind that created it.”  The truth of this was becoming more apparent to me. It would take rethinking how activism and the calm tranquility and growing equanimity found in my spiritual practice could merge. The key for me was found in more deeply understanding interdependence. I think of a story told by Jarvis Masters, who is an African-American Buddhist on death row in San Quentin: One day, there was a seagull out in the yard, paddling around in a puddle after some rain. And one of the inmates picked something up to throw at the bird, and without even thinking, Jarvis puts his hand up to stop it. Of course, this escalated the man's aggression, who started yelling. And everyone starts to circle around them, because this is the way fights would start in the prison, and they're all screaming at Jarvis, “Why did you do that?” And the words that came out of Jarvis's mouth were, “I did that because that bird got my wings.” He knew there was an inseparable connection. There's something that connects us all – you and me and the mountains and oceans and chickens and ravens and trees. How can we deepen this sense of belonging together? One step is to investigate - how do we relate to our “opponents?” To the people that we've created as the “bad other” or the “enemy”? This can be a really compelling inquiry right now, since many who want peace on the planet also harbor a lot of resentment towards other...earthlings;) When I read the New York Times in the morning and hear about what's going on in the world, I can get really riled up and start to separate me and who I start to think of as the “bad guys.”But the reality is, when I look under my anger, what's really there? Usually it's fear – fear for  the planet, for future generations, for what's left of my time here on this planet... But then let's go even deeper. What's underneath the fear? Usually, for me it's actual sadness. And grief. Grief for the loss and the pain.  And underneath that is  - surprisingly – a deep sense of caring about it all. So when I'm able to see that, I can start to put on my “glasses of compassion,” as my teacher Rashani on the Big Island calls them. I can start to see how that “other” person is actually really hurting. How the things they do are greatly impacted by their suffering and how it's shaped how they see the world. The second reflection that I find really useful is to ask, “What are my unseen biases?”  What are the ways we create separation in a kind of habitual way where we assume the other person is somehow “less than?” Through internalized racism, patriarchy, and consumer culture, for example. The third inquiry is, “How do we relate to the suffering we encounter?”  It's common that we reflexively pull away from and avoid suffering. So really this comes down to being willing to feel uncomfortable, right? To have a willingness to feel pain, a willingness to be touched by suffering - our own and others.  I remember one time when we were volunteering in Mexico in high school, and we were building a schoolhouse. Later that day a family invited my friend and me to dinner. We went into their home and it had a dirt floor and bare furnishings, but they had saved their best food for us and made chicken with beans and rice.  We were trying to politely decline, since we knew they didn't have much food as it was, and we didn't want them to feed us out of feeling obligated. We knew chicken was a rare delicacy. We declined a few times, but they insisted. It was delicious. We were grateful, and they were so happy to be able to give us something in return. And we realized that we had actually created a distance between us and them. Like we were the “helpers” and they were the “other.” And that, my friends, is when compassion turns into pity. That distance we create can take away from someone's dignity. True compassion and action means we're in it together. Tara Brach said the point of organizing isn't actually to “organize something.” It's actually to strengthen the web of life and the connections between people. And it takes time – as long as it needs to. If we're going to get depressed or discouraged if we don't see quick results, we aren't going to last very long, right? In Zen they say there are only two things: you sit, and you sweep the garden…and it doesn't matter how big the garden is.  Our activism can sit in the sweeping of the garden. So in our practice we can invite ourselves to quiet our minds and open our hearts and as we go out into the “garden” of the world, we reflect on what opens our heart.   As we do this, we feel more hope and encouragement and joy and can potentially overcome our depressed mood or sense of hopelessness.  What inspires compassion and action within us? What love do we want to express? What gift can we offer the world - even if the gift is the suffering that we've gone through and witnessed?  It just takes one person to shift things. One person. One thing. To be that person who can offer something somewhere, to do that one things, begins to open a channel of connection for all of us. What is that channel that wants to open? What is that first step we can take? What is that gift you might have to offer – even if it is your suffering? You will learn:// How to reconcile the seemingly different energies of activism and spirituality// The one feeling to tap into to motivate our activism from a more loving place instead of hate or unhealthy anger// Why we are naturally called to take care of Earth and all of its inhabitants, even the non-human ones// 3 reflections we can do to connect ourselves with our belonging with others// The true purpose of activism Resources:// Episode 4: Anti-Racism + Radical Mindfulness // Episode 5: Try Allyship and the Willingness to Be Uncomfortable // If you're new to the squad, grab the Rebel Buddhist Toolkit I created at RebelBuddhist.com. It has all you need to start creating a life of more freedom, adventure, and purpose. You'll also get access to the Rebel Buddhist private group, and tune in every Wednesday as I go live with new inspiration and topics. // Want something more self-paced with access to weekly group support and getting coached by yours truly? Check out Freedom School – the community for ALL things related to freedom, inside and out. Learn more at JoinFreedomSchool.com. I can't wait to see you there! // Want to join me for the next cohort of the Adventure Mastermind? Visit AdventureMastermind.com to get on the waitlist to be the first to hear about the next dates and locations. If you've already done the mastermind, stay tuned for a special alumni retreat. We'll pick up right where we left off and dive even deeper!

Awakening Inquiry is aimed at awakening to what I've been calling Reality-with-a-Capital-R. How do we inquire into aspects of Reality we have not yet even imagined? How do we even know what we don't know? How can we see what we have not yet seen? How do we even know where to look? In Zen, we do this through the use of koans, whether those are traditional koans or natural ones. I discuss the nature of awakening inquiry and how to find koans to focus your practice.

In Zen, we often say that the moment of death is the moment that reveals how we have been practicing. Indeed, the fear of dying is the base for all other fears. As practitioners, death should be an object of our contemplation. Sister Insight shares her experience of practicing in a way that helps her to let go of clinging, of suffering and of perceptions. Contemplating death brings us back to what is most essential in life and helps us to live each day fully and meaningfully. We become determined to live our life with kindness and love and to savor every moment. Experiencing the death of a beloved one, or grieving over the state of our planet, are also difficult moments in our lives. Even though there is the teaching of impermanence, a loved one's passing still is a loss. And in addition to the loss, we might be struggling with guilt and regret inside of our heart. Sister Insight shares her personal experience of having gone through the loss of her mother and her teacher. Taking refuge in the Sangha, getting in touch with Mother Earth, taking refuge in the island of self and dwelling in the present moment, were the four key practices that helped her. Below are some reflection questions and home practices to help us bring the teachings from Sister Insight's talk into daily life. 1. Letting go of guilt and regret “When our loved ones die, it is our guilt and regret that eat into us.” (Sister Insight) Look into the causes and conditions that came together to contribute to the situation that you regret or feel guilty about. Is it really “you” and “you” alone who was responsible?Write a letter to our loved ones who have passed away and express your regret.What were their joys, passions, and dreams? How can you continue to live those joys, passions, and fulfill their dreams?Offer your love and care to those who are alive, right by your side, and you will experience what Thay means by “In true love, there is no separation between the lover and the beloved”. 2. Going through grief and loss Take refuge in the sangha, in a community of practice. Get in touch with Mother Earth and see the interbeing of the elements inside and outside of ourselves. Breathe mindfully, stay present, see clearly, and do not run away from or suppress emotions.Recognize the stories that are the “second arrows” – smile to them and let them go.

As I've mentioned a few times in previous podcasts I'm always amazed whenever I come across significant wisdom in unexpected places. You can run into it almost anywhere and the sports world is certainly no exception. In basketball Phil Jackson is a former NBA player who became a coach and won more NBA titles than any other coach in the history of the game, eleven championship titles in all, which is truly impressive given how difficult the coaching position is. Not only do you have to master the details of the game, you also have to blend the egos of some extremely talented multimillionaires into a cohesive group that thrives on true teamwork.           Surprisingly for me it turns out that Jackson has had a somewhat mystical and spiritual approach to life for many years, which he claims was a major factor in his success. In 1995 he wrote a book called “Sacred Hoops,” featuring some of his esoteric understandings and there was this one quote that I'd never heard before that really got me that stated, “In Zen it is said that the gap between accepting things the way they are and wishing them to be otherwise is the one tenth of an inch difference between heaven and hell.”           This hit me on a lot of different levels which always gets me thinking. The first thing was the idea that heaven and hell were only a tenth of an inch apart. I'd always been taught that heaven was way up there, while its opposite, hell, was way down there. This idea that they seem close enough to be other sides of the same coin was revolutionary for me.  But it reminded me of a quote from a letter that was found in Abraham Lincoln's desk after his assassination which can still be found in the Lincoln Collection of the Library of Congress. It was supposedly a channeled message from a psychic and it said that “Heaven and Hell are conditions, not locations.” So, if heaven and hell were actually inner states of consciousness, it seemed like the pathway to heaven was somehow connected to accepting things the way they are, while hell had something to do with wishing them to be otherwise. This led me into considering a mental process that we each have called “Idealization.” Now this is where you have a desire for something and you develop a fantasy about having it. In Jackson's Zen quote you're wishing for things to be other than the way they are and you start weaving a fantasy about it. And we all know that there's an enormous difference between fantasy and reality. As an example, let's say you decide to get a new car and you start shopping for one. After a while you start to settle on this one particular kind of car, you start feeling good about it and your mind starts painting mental pictures about it for you. You may imagine a million different things. You're driving in it with your boyfriend, girlfriend, husband, wife, kids - whatever. It can go on and on but the important thing to be understood is that your idealizations are always positive and never negative. In all your imaginations you never imagine the feeling you would have if you went to a store and when you got back to your car there was a dent in the door because somebody dinged you when they open their car door. Or you never picture getting a flat or being stopped by a policeman and getting a speeding ticket.  That's all the stuff of real life while all these fantasies are happening within the dream world of your idealizations and once you actually achieve your fantasize desire and you get what you think you wanted, of course it turns into a whole different ballgame. Humorist Larry David put a funny spin on it in an early episode of his show, “Curb Your Enthusiasm.” He and his wife Cheryl had decided to buy a new home. They found a place on the beach in Malibu and when they walked in, the living room had an enormous picture window overlooking the ocean. The view was absolutely magnificent. Now, I'm paraphrasing the dialogue here but this is the way I remember it. “Oh Larry! Look at the view! It's absolutely incredible,” Cheryl says. “Two weeks,” Larry replies. “What do you mean, two weeks?” Cheryl asks. “You won't notice it after two weeks,” he answers. “You'll be so wrapped up in everything that's happening in your normal life, you won't even notice the view anymore.”  Cheryl was idealizing the idea of moving to the home with this incredible view and imagining how wonderful it would be to live there. And Larry, with his hard-boiled New York sensibility, went straight for the reality of every day daily life. Of course, one of the main reasons his stuff can be so funny is because of his talent for putting his finger on things that can make us feel uncomfortable about ourselves but still make us laugh. Now idealization is often followed by something that is broadly termed “Buyer's Remorse.” Before you get the object of your desire you still construct the idealization. But once you've actually had it for a while, you start dealing with the reality of it, which rarely, if ever lives up to the fantasy you had in your mind. It reminds me of something that happened to me about 25 years ago when our daughter was an adorable five-year-old and we used to shoot an enormous number of pictures of her.  The photo technology seems like ancient history now but this was before the digital age and we took pictures with cameras that had film.  You would shoot an entire roll of film and then take it to a camera shop to be developed into printed photograph. Every picture cost you money so you were operating within a bit of a limit on how many would take. It's hard to imagine such a primitive time now, right?  So, I always used the same neighborhood camera store and I became familiar with the young woman who worked behind the counter. I had probably been coming in for about three years and one day she told me I wouldn't see her again because she was about to take a new job. And she told me with enormous excitement that after years of trying, she had finally landed a job in a hardware store. It'd always been her dream and now it was coming true! She was incredibly excited. Of course, we each have our own playbook of desires and personally it didn't hit me as such a dramatic improvement to be making the move from working in a camera store to working in a hardware store. But what do I know?  Anyway, we had a nice friendly goodbye and the next time I came in someone new was behind the counter. Then a couple months later when I came back, to my surprise my former clerk was back behind the counter. When I asked her what happened to her job at the hardware store she said with a smile, “Well, I found out that the reason the grass was greener was because it was Astroturf.” At first, I was struck by how simple and funny her comment was. But as you can see, it stayed in my mind for all these years because it pointed to a much more profound truth - the difference between the artificial and the real, which may just be that one tenth of an inch difference between heaven and hell. Maybe it's the celebration and appreciation for what's real, which is on the deepest level for life itself, rather than the constant chasing after the artificial fantasies of the mind's desires which never end, no matter what you have. Maybe that one tenth of an inch difference between heaven and hell comes down to the state of our consciousness as we live our everyday lives. Whenever I ponder the idea, I'm always struck by how simple it is - that it all comes down to where we choose to focus. And I'm going to leave you with two quotes that are so simple that you might not even notice them, but they're so profound that they always bring deeply positive changes to me. The first one is from the world renowned Indian guru Parmahansa Yogananda who said, “The minutes are more important than the years.” And the second quote takes us back to the world of sports, which is where we first began. This one is from Bobby Jones, the great US champion of the 1920s, who is still widely regarded as the greatest golfer of all time. He was talking about a simple secret that he had discovered that had turned him into the great champion that he had become. And he said, “It's nothing new or original to say that golf is a game that is played one stroke at a time. But it took me many years to realize it.” Now that is a deceptively deep concept.  No matter what has happened in the past or what you think may happen in the future, you have to focus on the present.  In golf it all happens just one stroke at a time. And in life it all happens just one breath at the time. The mind has to dwell in the past or the future. But the breath only happens in the present. And that is where the treasure of existence is. It really couldn't be any simpler but how many of us have realized that one tenth of an inch difference? Again, these podcast just present ideas for your consideration. So, let's just leave it there for now and let's call this the end of this episode. As always keep your eyes mind and heart open and let's get together in the next one.

In Zen practice, every moment counts, every detail of our life calls for  attention. A famous Zen saying says, "Messy shoes, messy mind." This guides us not to throw things around, helter skelter, but to be aware of how things have served us, and where they belong.  Therefore the instruction, pick your coat up from the floor and put it where it belongs. Such a simple action with far ranging effects. Don't throw something away after you've used it. Place it where it needs to be, for its sake and for yours. When our lives are filled with careful order and attention,  harmony enters our world. This instruction not only applies not only to our coats and shoes, but to those we meet in our lives as well. If someone needs to be lifted up, do not hesitate to do so. Do not throw others or relationships around. Don't use them when needed and then throw to the floor. One simple careful Zen instruction like this, followed thoroughly impacts our entire lives. The simpler the instruction the better, the further it reaches all.

All are on the Path,Though many do not know it.This Path is no path.* * *The focus of this segment, the intersection of the Social Sphere and the Path to Cessation, sounds dangerously close to “sociopath,” a term that is becoming more and more familiar in the era of extreme divisiveness in the cultural and political landscape, not only in the USA but around the globe. What more appropriate designation for the president living in luxury in Russia, who finds it desirable to be constantly bombing and shelling civilians, women and children, in Ukraine? But then, what name is most fitting for a president who tries to steal an election? “Narcissist” doesn't quite cut it.When we return from our meditation to our family, or sally forth into the public fray — crossing the boundary between the Personal and Social spheres as shown in the graphic model — we enter the Original Frontier™ that Buddha must have encountered the night of his profound enlightenment some 2500 years ago. Perhaps the more accurate term would be “reenter,” as the Social sphere into which he had been born and raised had not changed — he had changed. In the 1960s, the “reentry problem” became a ubiquitous trope, designating that segue back into so-called normality, following a psychedelic-induced “trip” to what appeared to be another world. One of my design students at U of I, Chicago Circle campus, described it as “dumping out all of the drawers in the house in one big pile, and next day, having to put all that stuff back where it belongs.” A psychotropic, rather than alcoholic, hangover.Of course, we never completely leave the Social realm, even when intently focusing on the Personal, in meditation. The influences of our particular social milieu are ever-present, even in the deep isolation of meditation. The Four Spheres are not only outside of us, they are also inside. The body's biology and inherited DNA are obvious examples of the Natural. Subtle movements of chemistry and the neurological verge on the microcosmic Universal. As do such subtle phenomena as circadian rhythms, subliminal responses to sunlight, and the tidal pull of the moon.Not that we are conscious of these influences. The inner Social sphere includes such unconscious elements as self-identity, i.e. association with family ancestry, including persuasions such as identifying with the political party that our parents favored. In receiving the Zen Buddhist lay precepts, we embrace interpretations of others regarding the avoidance of killing, stealing, lying, and so forth, on a conscious level. But we harbor built-in precepts inherited from parents and peers, all unbeknownst to ourselves. Zen's Precepts often belabor the obvious. But they bear repetition.Considering the intersection of the Social sphere with the Path, we call to mind its eight dimensions. Not capitalized here, in order to embrace them as Universal and Natural, as well as Social and Personal, rather than as holy writ. Right view and thought, or understanding, which together comprise right wisdom; right speech, action and livelihood, or right conduct; and right effort, mindfulness and meditation, taken together as right discipline. With our usual caveat that the term “right,” as used here, is more of a verb than an adjective. It indicates taking right action to correct our worldview and understanding, bringing them more into alignment with the worldview of Buddhism, or Buddha himself.One could argue that effort, mindfulness and meditation live entirely within the Personal sphere of action, as exemplified by Bodhidharma, alone in his cave in ancient China. But we point to the halo- or ripple-effect of our personal discipline upon others around us, once we do leave the cushion and reenter the Social realm. Master Dogen is attributed with encouraging us to do one thing, and to do it well enough that we can even do it in front of other people. I have not been able to locate this saying in the written record, but in his famous Genjokoan [Actualizing the Fundamental Point] he declares that “Doing one practice is practicing completely.” This is analogous to the current Zen trope that asks, If you want to drill for water, would you drill a lot of shallow wells, or one deep well? This applies broadly.In the fields of performing arts and athletics, connections of the discipline of Personal effort to Social performance becomes obvious, through repetition of rehearsal and practicing routines. As does the recommendation that “practice makes perfect,” notwithstanding the Buddhist tenet of fundamental imperfection. But the training, while clearly physical, is not only physical. Highly trained athletes are often guilty of making “mental errors.” Gymnasts, musicians, dancers and pole vaulters who persevere and break records, or move audiences to laughter or tears, are examples of this principle. They realize the non-separation of the Personal and Social, following the Path of process and progress through which we integrate inner discipline and outer conduct. In Zen as well as the arts, we arrive at a convergence in which wisdom emerges, on physical as well as mental and emotional planes.Let's take a brief look at each of the eight dimensions and its connection to the Social sphere, beginning where our practice begins, with right meditation. Sometimes rendered traditionally as contemplation or concentration, that there is right meditation suggests that there could be wrong meditation. Again, the usage is not exactly right versus wrong here on the Personal level of meditation practice, but we can agree that there may be wrong attitudes or usages of meditation in the Social context. For example, if we make a divisive or wedge issue of our zazen practice within the dynamics of our household, allowing it to affect our relationships to our family — spouse, children, parents, even in-laws — that might be an example of wrong meditation. An old saying holds that if your spouse and children are happy, your meditation is working. Adding an hour of meditation to our daily routine should not be a cause celebre, but can be inserted at an hour and in a place that does not disrupt or disturb anyone. In fact, practicing zazen should add to the harmony of the household, just as it does to the Zen community, or Sangha.Right mindfulness in the Social realm would suggest extending this Personal caution and humility to the workspace, whether in the office or in the field. Making a display of wearing a wrist mala, for example, calls upon our fellow workers, managers and team members to respond, with questions or comments. While Zen practice has definite benefits in terms of our relationship to colleagues under the stressful conditions of productivity demands, making an issue of it with people who have little or no familiarity with Zen is not advisable. It introduces an irrelevant and even irritating element into a situation already fraught with potential for friction and conflict, e.g. along political or ideological lines. Not that we should be evasive about it, or try to hide the fact that we engage in a practice — meditation — that has its detractors, and does not yet enjoy the kind of mainstream acceptability that it is gaining.A similarly inappropriate, and more common, phenomenon, is the tendency of some to insert their religious views into the business environment, when the business itself has little or nothing to do with religion. I have worked for a relatively large corporation where one of the partners held regular prayer meetings. He was also involved in an illicit affair with one of the employees. Along with being mindful of our practice, we practice mindfulness of context.Right effort plays into the Social context as well, witnessed as our tendency to overdo and overthink all of these relationships, sometimes to the detriment of the relationship. In a comment I came across recently, a mother cogently summed up one example of this syndrome, suggesting that we would be a whole lot less worried about what other people thought of us if we realized how seldom they do. We have all been there, done that, when a colleague or boss makes a comment and we spend the next all-too-long period of time ruminating over it, fretting about what the person really meant, and insulted that they do not appreciate us for the contribution we make to the corporate cause.There are innumerable books published about this, one I heard reviewed on television titled “Neanderthals at Work” by Albert J. Bernstein. He suggests that in the modern office setting you have three distinct types of coping strategies or views of the situation, one he called something like the politician, another the believer, and the third the genius. The “politician,” an example of the bad boss syndrome, schmoozes the people above them, while largely ignoring those lower on the ladder, or worse, criticizing them as a way of improving his position. The “believer” thinks the politician is immoral, feeling that as long as they come to work and do their job, they should not have to play politics. The “genius” comes out of the computer room to solve the problem du jour, but is often culpable in creating the problem. The politician looks down on the other two as naive, simply not understanding how things work in the modern office. Focusing on the boss is the natural approach to the reporting structure. The problem is not that these tendencies exist, but that their adherents do not understand each other, which exacerbates the friction between them.Which brings us to another four-pointed model, my take on the traditional Zen jargon term, “Samadhi,” usually capitalized to stress the high regard in which it is held. I reduce it to the more prosaic “balance.” This concept is simple enough to grasp that no illustration is required. The first of the four is physical samadhi, the centered and balanced form of the zazen posture, leaning neither to the right or left, or front or back, as Master Dogen explains what it is not. From it, or along with it, comes the second samadhi, emotional balance: more calm, less anxiety. Thirdly we begin to experience mental samadhi: more clarity, less confusion. And finally, after some time, social samadhi: more harmony, less friction in our relationships to others. These four comprehend the inner-Personal and outer-Social benefits, or side-effects of Zen meditation practice.Most people want to leap to the Social aspect right away, to handle interpersonal transactions with greater patience and compassion. But Zen goes deeper, of course. When the upright posture becomes more natural and comfortable, the heart-mind (J. shin) becomes calmer and clearer naturally. When one becomes more patient with the monkey mind, and more comfortable in one's own skin through zazen, it becomes easier to have patience with others. But we have to be patient with the time that it takes to get over ourselves, and to divest ourselves of a lot of excess baggage we carry around. This is why Zen takes so long to penetrate to the deeper levels of Samadhi, as a transformational experience, sometimes regarded as the precursor to the fabled spiritual insight (J. satori) of Zen.Summing up so far, we have looked briefly at the Universal Existence of Dukkha, change or suffering, that we are to fully understand; its Natural Origin, or craving, which we are to fully abandon — and which is built-into birth as a human being — which is considered the necessary condition for Buddhist awakening; and the Social Path recommended by Shakyamuni Buddha, which we are to follow to its ultimate conclusion in the Cessation of suffering. A caveat is in order as to this last claim. In the Heart Sutra we chant: “Given Emptiness, no suffering, no end of suffering.” This is not a contradiction, but indicates that the kind of suffering that can come to an end is that self- and mutually-inflicted suffering, intentionally and unintentionally, that we visit upon ourselves and others. The Natural suffering of aging, sickness and death, which come with the territory of sentient existence, do not, cannot, come to an end. But embracing that fact as reality, and perfectly natural, mitigates the suffering as a human meme.Continuing, we will next take up the remaining pair of the combinations of the Four Spheres and the Four Noble Truths, the Personal and the Cessation of suffering, which necessarily involves the Eightfold Path to cessation. Personal Cessation is the only kind there is. Stay tuned one more time.* * *Elliston Roshi is guiding teacher of the Atlanta Soto Zen Center and abbot of the Silent Thunder Order. He is also a gallery-represented fine artist expressing his Zen through visual poetry, or “music to the eyes.”UnMind is a production of the Atlanta Soto Zen Center in Atlanta, Georgia and the Silent Thunder Order. You can support these teachings by PayPal to donate@STorder.org. Gassho.Producer: Kyōsaku Jon Mitchell

Frugality is shaped by the motives behind it, such as prudent management of our finances, or reducing our environmental footprint. In Zen, cherishing the absolute value of each and every thing we encounter is at the heart of frugality. As Zuigan Goto-roshi said, "From the first, in people and in things, there is no such thing as trash."

Inevitable —Yet so unnecessary!Enough suffering.* * *As mentioned in the first segment of this series, one Sunday at the Zen center we conducted a dialog on the recent school shootings and general dystopian state of affairs, as a kind of “dharma combat,” an open and frank discussion of how Zen practice does or does not address the ongoing chaos of modern life in America. In this and the two following segments we will close out this discussion, largely quoting the question-and-answer dynamic that transpired online and in person that day. As usual in Zen dialog, the answers more often than not raise more questions than they provide any pat answers.Master Dogen, in Shobogenzo Bendowa — A Talk About Pursuing the Truth — includes a section of questions and his answers at the end. The format I have chosen, “Someone asks: I say:” below is adopted from that approach. After my brief introductory recap of the subject, quoting a couple of the paragraphs from the prior segment, we opened the floor for discussion. The following is what ensued.Someone asks: What is the best we can do in a situation like this? How can we be centered in dharma without being numb to what's going on around us? Where does the rubber meet the road between practice and avoidance?I say: Mastuoka Roshi was once asked this question, regarding “engaged Zen.” He simply took the zazen posture, saying “This is the most you can do.” What I think he meant is that unless you gain clarity on the cushion, and resolve your personal conflicts with regard to life and death, you cannot really enter the fray in the public realm without adding to the confusion. As long as you have preconceptions, or a bias as to the outcomes, you cannot really engage in a balanced and compassionate manner. If on the other hand you can see both sides of the issue — or in today's context, the many sides of the issue — you may be able to help.Clarification is what we go for in zazen, but the path to it is fraught with confusion and frustration. In pursuing clarity in zazen, one thing that becomes clear is our own complicity, and the degree of responsibility we share in the details of our complex lives. We may be complicit in sharing the karma of our community, but not the direct responsibility, e.g. of the shooter as the proximate cause. Both can be true at once. We are complicit in, but not responsible for, the specific event. But we are definitely responsible for what we do about it now. Karma and its consequences continue through the Three Times — past future & present — according to Zen Buddhism. What we do in the present will probably comprise the most appropriate action, if we thoroughly examine the situation in zazen.Zazen is not a panacea. It does not change anything by “spooky action at a distance” or magical thinking. But in terms of psychology it helps us to see ourselves and our place in this situation.Someone asks: Is there any actual realistic thing we can do to face this situation? What can we do?I say: I think we have to take the long view. This is not to say that we should not rise up in arms, and change everything we can change that is part of the problem. But if you look back on Japan — where our Zen teachers come from — during WWII, Japan and the United States were at each other's throats. We witnessed the calamity of dropping nuclear bombs on civilians of Hiroshima and Nagasaki, the former of which was Matsuoka Roshi's family home. And which to this day I don't agree had to be done, and a lot of other people disagree with that atrocity as well. Nonetheless, Japan and USA are now allies We're, quote, “friends.” So you have to look back on 50 years and say, Well, what was that all about then? It took generations dying off, for us to recover the relationship on a normalized basis between the two countries.So I think that reflects the kind of patience that we learn to practice in Zen. The kind of patience that is not associated with outcomes. Parents with their children, children with their aging parents, et cetera, practice patience with each other and within society. We do, but it's always connected to the outcome. I am going to count to ten, hold my breath, hold my tongue. I am going to be patient in this situation, because it's going to work out the way I want it to.In Zen I think we practice the kind of patience that says this may never work out the way I want it to. And yet I will practice patience with that, because that's the nature of the beast. It's suffering. It is impermanent, it's imperfect, insubstantial, et cetera — all the teachings of Buddhism apply here.I think what we are doing as practice leaders and practitioners is, as Matsuoka Roshi said, the most you can do. We are hopefully teaching people how to deal with their own ignorance, and potentially how to overcome it, by practicing meditation. It's not passive. It is not a retreat from reality. It's a way of girding your loins to go out and go back into battle, you could say. I think we are training armies of soldiers who can go into tough situations, and do probably closer to the right thing that has to be done.I think that's the mission of Zen. It could eventually lead to world peace, if we survive long enough, if we don't blow the planet up entirely. And I think it's our only hope for world peace, personally. I think that the other religions have largely failed. Not intentionally, not because of any particular fault that they have. Politics has failed, as well. From my perspective, the only thing that we have left is Zen.I think we are already doing what we should do about it. It is just, Can we catch up to it in time? We are training individuals to think independently, and to act interdependently. That is the most we can do. The people we're training, they will go out and take action. It is not my place to tell people what they should or should not do. For my part, I need to spend all my time training people this way. So that they will go out and become political, they will go out and join the movement. But the action they take will be from a more compassionate or wise, universalist kind of perspective, than from trying to help my team win, in this situation. Which is what we see with all of the so-called movements.Matsuoka Roshi taught that Zen can bridge East and West. I think Zen can bridge this problem as well. It takes time, and we all have to do our best. Any chance I get I will speak out, as Matsuoka Roshi did, as you know if you've read his collected talks. He spoke out about Vietnam, about WWII, civil rights. He was very much a peacemaker and bridge-builder. It's incumbent upon us to do everything we can, whatever we can.Someone asks: When it comes to universalism — the ideas of emptiness and compassion — to me it seems logical that they would help people to understand that they don't have to be so selfish, they don't have to be so narcissistic and hateful. But how can we help people like that banish some of those delusions? Is there any way we can help them, even in a gentle way?I say: Again, my opinion is, Zen can help. I've tried things like joining the Fulton County Interfaith committee. I was co-chair of the board of that committee for a year, when I began to see that what I was trying to do was never going to happen. I was trying to get the county to introduce meditation into the schools. I think: get them early. If you start people sitting in meditation when they are young, in middle school, elementary grade levels, then by the time they get to high school they might be more capable of dealing with things like hormonal rage, and all the rejection they receive from people around them. They might be able to have more of a sense of humor about it, and see it for what it is, and not take it personally. I sound like Johnny-one-note, but my answer is, get the kids sitting on the cushions.I spoke about this a little bit on my recent podcast, about the “incels” the “involuntary celibates” at certain ages, adolescents primarily. They watch porn on TV or social media, and see that all the girls “want it” and so forth. And then they turn to their local community, and no one wants to have anything to do with them. And so their frustration mounts. The sexuality, the hormones, the social construct that we have, the religious backdrop, these are all contributing factors, as well as probably the killer, shoot-‘em-up computer games. Everything has something to contribute.And it all seems, to my way of thinking, to be part of the same problem, like different koans. In Zen, there are 1700 classical koans, and they are all pointing to the same truth. The way I look at this problem, every dimension of it, like facets of a diamond, they are all part of it. And so it's very difficult to get to the root cause, to the core of it. But I think Buddha identified that.It's the sense of self, needing to defend that self. Needing to empower and consume, for that person to have power and wealth, and to consume what everybody wants. It's predictable — if you take a bunch of conscripts in their teens and twenties from Russia, and send them to invade a country with weaponry — it's predictable what they are going to do. Because you have to dehumanize the population that you are invading, to begin with.So none of this is surprising. Buddha would not be surprised by any of this. He would just be aghast at the scale of everything. And how, to this point, Buddhism has failed. We have failed to adopt these principles, the Precepts, Paramitas, et cetera. This is why we aspire to buddha nature — to wake up — and not to human nature. We are seeing human nature on display. Some people would probably resent that. They say, No, no, that's inhumane. But look at how we treat the rest of the species — livestock and wildlife — and how we treat the planet. It's human behavior. It's humanity. And that's not pessimistic. It's not overly optimistic, either. It's realistic.To be continued.* * *Elliston Roshi is guiding teacher of the Atlanta Soto Zen Center and abbot of the Silent Thunder Order. He is also a gallery-represented fine artist expressing his Zen through visual poetry, or “music to the eyes.”UnMind is a production of the Atlanta Soto Zen Center in Atlanta, Georgia and the Silent Thunder Order. You can support these teachings by PayPal to donate@STorder.org. Gassho.Producer: Kyōsaku Jon Mitchell

In this final segment of Upaya’s series on The Shamanic Bones of Zen, Osho Zenju Earthlyn Manuel focuses on ritual as a form of celebration. In Zen, Earthlyn explains, we begin by receiving the teachings of the ancestors. When we put these teachings into practice, through the rituals of zazen and liturgy, we celebrate the ancestors of what they’ve given to us. And this celebration leads to a sense of gratitude, not only for the ancestors of the past, but for the present moment, for our lives just as they are right now. The purpose of engaging in ritual, Zenju teaches, is not to think about or conceptually engage with the teachings, however profound they may be. The purpose is to initiate our attention into life with a spirit of celebration and gratitude. Click here to pre-order your copy of The Shamanic Bones of Zen. Osho Zenju Earthlyn Manuel ZENJU EARTHLYN MANUEL is an author, poet, and ordained Zen Buddhist priest. She is the author of... More

Whose idea was this?It certainly wasn't mine —Perhaps it is yours?* * *The thread running through this series is the underlying connection, the various links, between Design thinking and Zen, and how they differ from conventional thinking and religion. In considering the topics of the times, such as the spate of school shootings and other mass murders recurring on a daily basis now, it may seem to be stretching this idea to its breaking point. But just consider: What part of these events is not the result of some design of human intent? And how is the design of the conventional response working, or not?After all, the federal government of the United States of America, and the governing bodies of its now fifty states or commonwealths, their counties, parishes (Louisiana) and boroughs (Alaska), cities, and other subdivisions, consisting of the repeat triumvirate of executive, legislative and judicial branches, did not fall out of the sky, like commandments from heaven. It was the product of intense debate documented in the Federalist Papers, and is the subject of continuing conflict concerning the nature of the democracy or republic the powers that be want to see evolve in the future. How is that working out?In Design, we say that you cannot design around human nature. You have to take it into account, warts and all. The design of the government of the USA was putatively intended to limit its powers to those that, if unlimited, would appeal to the worst instincts of human nature. In other words, government of the people, by the people and for the people, as honest Abe put it, is intended to govern, or control, the people themselves. Especially those in power. But we have seen this original design intent corrupted again and again, and by guess who? The people in power at the moment. And those in power have again and again attempted to establish dynasties, wherein they not only retain power for life, if possible, but also hand it down to their children in perpetuity, potentially, like some permanent potentate. As recently lavished upon the royal family, under the rubric of the queen's “platinum jubilee,” with grand — some might say gross — pageantry, in what was formerly Great Britain. Or witnessed in the Trumpist claim to entitlement in the USA. Not to mention the long, sad history of nepotist despots in South America and around the world. There apparently is no limit to human hubris, given the financial means to indulge it.In the face of the many absurdist reality shows on offer, in their disappointment and frustration, people naturally turn to sources of comfort and solace, such as religion or science. This is one of the main themes of my soon-to-drop second book, “The Razorblade of Zen,” positing Zen as a third alternative. But religion gets mixed up with politics, when we begin to see the local melodramas and misuses of governance in the light of a larger plan, namely a “divine plan” of God, who we imagine to be interested in, and intimately involved with, the now-continuous campaigns of mere mortals for earthly power. This generally turns out to be an ugly marriage, birthing many ugly babies. As a current example, some evangelistic sects are reportedly being torn apart by political and ideological conflicts insinuating themselves into the church as wedge issues stressing its fragile fellowship, and begging the question of God's will. Likewise, when we hope for a silver bullet from science, we are often disappointed.Here, in the dark interior of this particular Pandora's box, is where one of the approaches routinely applied in Design thinking may shed some light, or at least raise the appropriate challenges to conventional thinking. We call this particular exercise, “What if?” What if there were no government? How would you govern yourself? What if there actually is no god, at least not of the kind we imagine. Which, truth be told, is inevitably a projection of our own self-nature. What else would you expect from a person, in conceiving the kind of intelligence behind the creation and design of this world? Something inhuman? And therefore having little or no regard for your fate? That would not do. No, God, capital “G,” must surely be like us, or rather, like me. And probably more like me than thee, come to think of it.The concept of a personal God, like that of a personal soul, provides too ready an answer, too often a substitute for confronting inconvenient truths, just another foil for reinforcing our dubious self-identity. Matsuoka Roshi would often address the question of the existence and nature of God. He would say, “In Zen, who is Buddha? You are Buddha! In Zen, who is God? You are god!” He never claimed that he was God, or that he was Buddha. What could he possibly mean?I think we have to ask, What is Buddha? Again — aside from the capitalization indicating the historical Buddha Shakyamuni — “buddha” essentially means “the awakened one.” That is, consciousness itself. If this seems too simple and inadequate, your interpretation does not address the implications of consciousness. Or we might say, the miracle of consciousness. Nobody, not from the scientific end of the spectrum, nor from the religious perspective, really understands this phenomenon. Buddha himself did not understand it. The bare fact of sentient being is not something that can be understood.So if there is such a thing as God, it must have something to do with this consciousness we share with all sentient beings, to differing degrees, of course. Perhaps what Sensei meant is that the very consciousness that raises the question — Who is God? — is the answer to the question. The “sparrow quote” proclaims a belief in the omniscience and omnipresence of God, from the King James Bible:Not one sparrow can fall to the ground without God knowing it. And the very hairs on our heads are all numbered. So don't worry; we are more valuable to him than many sparrows. (Matthew 10:29-31)The scientific question here would be “how,” as I suggest in my first book, “The Original Frontier.” How, exactly, does God register this relatively inconsequential event? Perhaps by dint of the sparrow's consciousness — of its own death? Or that of its mate? By the thud of the carcass striking the ground, heard by the local coterie of sentient predators, who would regard it as a snack? Or perhaps the swarm of scavenger rodents and insects who strip the flesh from the bones of the corpse? All of the above?In this analysis, “God” is all consciousness, mutual awareness of all sentient beings taken together. To a person who believes that there absolutely must be a separate “who” behind the “why” and “what” of existence, as well as the “how” — not to mention the “where and when” — it may seem self-evident that there is an “intelligent designer” behind what is arguably the intelligent design of the universe. But such a person, in order to discern the presence, must be ready and willing to consider the absence of God, as well. In other words, to take into consideration the possibility that there is no such God, as proof of concept. Otherwise, their God is an example of blind faith, a belief that is not seriously examined, but only adopted for convenience. If the reality of a benign overseer is to be proven out in one's own experience, it must begin from a baseline of the absence of that presence. The only way to distinguish an object is to separate it from its ground. The inability to do so is a bit like an optical illusion.So, what if there is no God? This would render our knee-jerk conventional resort to such aphorisms and euphemisms as “God's will” and “God moves in mysterious ways” largely feckless, in the face of such horrors as the insanity of war and mass killings, at the hands of our fellow man. Or that the trigger-man is simply “evil,” which in this context is a religious statement. These simplistic pat answers are evasive maneuvers to avoid the question, actually. If there were no God, we would have to consider an alternative approach to the definition of the problem at hand. Which is the essence of Design thinking.Assuming that there is no God on whom we can dump the blame, we have to move in a different direction toward a solution. This is a case of moving “what if” into the logic of “if, then.” If it is true that there is no God — remember, this is just a working premise, not an argument one way or the other — then we cannot turn to God, or our hopeful, self-centered characterizations of Him or Her to resolve our dilemma. We must turn to other sources. And what are those other sources? Usually, government. Back to the justice system and the powers-that-be. But if they are based on the same framework — “In God we trust” — then we are caught in a tautology, a forever self-fulfilling prophecy that can do no more than chase its own tail. “Our thoughts and prayers are with you.” How to break out of this cycle?Or we can turn to Science, with a capital “S,” for solutions. The arc of technology certainly holds out some hope that the men and women in white coats are working day and night, feverishly examining new ways to feed the burgeoning populace, shield the earth from the glare of an increasingly angry sun, cleanse the air and waters of the accumulated pollution of the last couple of centuries of industrial exploitation of resources, and so on. Until you discover that most of the work is dedicated to sustaining the interests and incomes of the very corporate powers-that-be who, after all, finance the research. Including the government and its profiteering complex, no longer limited to the military-industrial bugaboo of Eisenhower's farewell address.The so-called “soft sciences,” including such disciplines as sociology and psychology, also seem to offer some corrective, but only palliative, options. More counseling, more mental health assistance, more concern and care. To be layered on top of existing teacher-student-parent, employer-worker-industry, doctor-patient-treatment, and husband-wife-children triangles — to name a few — that are apparently failing to produce intended outcomes, instead resulting in acts of blaming, revenge and violence.As Pogo the Possum famously declared, “We have met the enemy and he is us.” As a young person I was a big Walt Kelly fan, as well as being influenced as a child-artist by Walt Disney's prodigious output. Mad Magazine was a big one as well, later on. These were the social media of my formative years, mainly print, the movies, and the infancy of television. One of the issues that separates generations, making intergenerational collaboration even more difficult, is this cultural disconnect. The images and influences that fill in the background of the passing pageantry of life are also evolving, more rapidly than we are as biological beings. Cultural evolution more readily explains the domination of the human species over its fellow sentient beings, than any increase in fundamental intelligence. We are becoming more and more of a burden on the environment, but are not getting any smarter.Master Dogen is said to have commented that in Zen, we are about the business of developing true intelligence. This implies that there must be a kind of intelligence that is false. One modern meaning of intelligence, in military and international spheres, is data-gathering. That this kind of intelligence can be false is all-too-painfully obvious in miscalculations and errors that have led governments and their military dogs of war into misadventures around the globe, with America as the poster boy, until Russia, under the benighted guidance of their current potentate, Vladimir Putin, invaded Ukraine. Again. But the kind of intelligence Dogen was pointing to was personal. Your intelligence or mine.Intelligence and sentience, or consciousness, cannot be separated, whatever you may think of the IQ test. In zazen, by unlearning our erroneous views of our own direct experience through the senses, we develop the intelligence side of consciousness, in which perception and conception come more in line with reality as it is, outside our personal preferences. It is this kind of unsentimental, unbiased intelligence that we need to bring to bear on the ever-changing koan of everyday life that we are facing in these challenging times.To be continued.* * *Elliston Roshi is guiding teacher of the Atlanta Soto Zen Center and abbot of the Silent Thunder Order. He is also a gallery-represented fine artist expressing his Zen through visual poetry, or “music to the eyes.”UnMind is a production of the Atlanta Soto Zen Center in Atlanta, Georgia and the Silent Thunder Order. You can support these teachings by PayPal to donate@STorder.org. Gassho.Producer: Kyōsaku Jon Mitchell

Falling through a curve —Sum total of all forces…Zen's “total function”!* * *In this segment we will return our attention back to the more personal sphere of meditation practice. Beyond any consideration of what unlikely intersections we may find between Design thinking and the complex ethical and political issues of our times — other than personal solutions that may help mitigate the worst consequences of the seemingly incompetent or malicious intentions on the part of the powers that be — the deeper implications of some of the most advanced Design thinking and their association with Zen may not be readily apparent. One such example would be the Geodesic geometry of R. Buckminster Fuller, one of my many mentors. In case you are unfamiliar with it, a bit of background.Bucky and his students started out exploring what would become a new branch of geometry by modeling what he called the “closest-packing” of spheres, in the form of ping pong balls or cast acrylic spheres, stacking and gluing them in various configurations. Spheres are the closest approximation to a point in space, having the same radius in all directions, and stand as reasonable analogies to atoms in a molecular structure, or molecules in the structure of the periodic table of elements, as the familiar stick-and-ball models representing the geometry or shape of microscopic components, such as DNA.To illustrate the two simplest versions, imagine holding three balls in the palm of one hand, where they will nest and form a triangle. Then place a fourth ball on top, and you have a tetrahedron. This is the first and simplest geometrical solid that divides space into inside and outside, the technical engineering definition of a “system” according to Fuller. Theoretically, any system of whatever complexity can be reduced to four major components, or subsystems. If you can define the four major divisions, and describe their six connections — the edges of the tetrahedron — it can be said that you “understand” or comprehend that particular system, or so Bucky asserts.So the tetrahedron is the shape that represents the first level of closest packing of molecules, or any other singular entities, with a void at the center. The second example starts with a single sphere at the center, packing one layer around it. Surprisingly, the classic solid that results is the rhombi-cube-icosahedron, the unique solid that Bucky referred to as the “vector equilibrium.” Its surface planes consist of alternating triangles and squares, six of the latter and eight of the former. He called it a vector equilibrium because the tensional vectors, representing the outer edges of the surface, are exactly balanced by the compressive vectors, meaning the connections between the outer vertices and the central sphere. Interpreted as vectors, as in a soap bubble, they are in equilibrium, represented by the distance between all points being the same.I think the connection to Zen practice is pretty obvious, as our seated meditation posture, zazen, is basically a tetrahedron, especially when we brace ourselves by placing our hands on our knees. The arms complete the six edges of the tetrahedron. Similarly, the 12-pointed model of the rhombi-cube-icosahedron is the model for Buddhism's Twelvefold Chain of Interdependent Origination, with the 13th point being the center. I have used this geometry as semantic models of the main teachings of Buddhism (See Fig. 1). But how does Fuller's geodesic geometry reflect Design thinking?Fuller's first application of geodesic design thinking was in the form of a map of the earth. The geodesic domes came much later. In this design, the continents are laid out on a triangular grid, called a tessellation, that allows the two-dimensional flat projection to be folded into a three-dimensional solid that represents the globe. (See Fig. 2) The outlines of continents and oceans are projected from the center of the Earth rather than from outside, like the familiar Mercator projection. Compared to that standard, this approach distributes the distortion in the projection evenly to every triangle, rather than exaggerating it depending on how far away the area is from the center. A second advantage is that the flattened map can represent a one-continent map as illustrated, or unfolded a different way, a one-ocean map, with the continents at the edges.The question may arise, what is the design intent underlying this exercise? What would be the point in designing another kind of world map? Bucky was interested in precision in communication. It bothered him that scientists, who know better, would still refer to the sun as “rising” and “setting.” Far from picking nits, for Fuller these lazy tropes continue to reinforce ignorant conceptions of reality. It bothered him that the maps we were using distorted our perception of the interconnectedness of the world. You may argue that looking at a globe provides the same data — that is, accurate distances between points of interest — but this ignores the fact that you can see only one side of the map in 3D representation. It is more difficult to think and conceive in three dimensions, as the increased level of difficulty of three-dimensional chess illustrates. We tend to miss obscure connections, such as that the Japanese might fly over the North Pole to attack Pearl Harbor, the shortest distance from a world-around perspective.Zen and Design thinking share this premise: that we are limited mainly by self-imposed strictures and ways of thinking, adopted from the cultural memes and worldviews of our community, parents and peers. Breaking out of these constraints is common to the mission of Design as well as that of Zen. The seminal teachings of Buddha himself were basically correctives to the received wisdom of the time. He would welcome these challenges to conventional thinking.In fact one could argue that the foundational premise of Zen is that there is something missing in our apprehension of reality. Matsuoka Roshi would often say that people go through life with this sense of “something missing.” They don't know what it is, to belabor the obvious, but they definitely know that it is missing. They come to Zen to find it. This “IT” is the big carrot that Zen and other insight-based endeavors dangle to attract sincere students of the Way. It is the “that” of suchness, in Japanese inmo, the ineffable realization of Buddha's wisdom, to quote Master Dogen's definition of the meaning of zazen. The implication is that our present “normal” awareness is limited by dualistic thinking, or in the worst case scenario, limited to dualistic thinking. Only you know for sure.What is your worldview, exactly and in detail? How can you mount challenges to it? Bucky modified his worldview via the empirical scientific method — studying particular case experiences and deriving general principles therefrom — his definition of the standard operating procedure of human intelligence, itself. We can hopefully achieve higher approximations to reality by relinquishing the choke-hold that dualistic thinking has on our perception. In Zen, the way to that eventuality is zazen. Ride the cushion into that geodesic reality.* * *Elliston Roshi is guiding teacher of the Atlanta Soto Zen Center and abbot of the Silent Thunder Order. He is also a gallery-represented fine artist expressing his Zen through visual poetry, or “music to the eyes.”UnMind is a production of the Atlanta Soto Zen Center in Atlanta, Georgia and the Silent Thunder Order. You can support these teachings by PayPal to donate@STorder.org. Gassho.Producer: Kyōsaku Jon Mitchell

Dharma trumps karmabut it is not an escape —Consequences come* * *Last Sunday we performed an initiation ceremony called “Jukai Tokudo” in Japanese. We had an international visitor and a couple of other candidates who were ready and willing to receive the initial precepts of Zen, declaring themselves Soto Zen Buddhists. We will do so again in November of this year, which is our Founder's Month, honoring Matsuoka Roshi, our founding teacher.It occurred to me that in this context, with all the consternation and pontificating over Ukraine — now segueing into the dismal fatigue syndrome of becoming yesterday's news — we might revisit the fundamental question I raised for our Sunday dharma dialog a few weeks ago: “What the hell is wrong with Vladimir Putin?”You may have participated in this discussion, so apologies in advance for any redundancy, but these points bear repeating. It is an inexcusable, but seemingly inevitable scenario, that we become fatigued at the repetition of atrocities, as if the victims being killed and maimed today are somehow not as worthy of our attention, the horror not as shocking, as we registered at the beginning of the aggression. As someone once said at the screaming of lobsters being boiled alive, “They are used to it.” But in light of the aspirational aspect of the Precepts, even this tragedy takes on deeper meaning.In approaching this particular train wreck as a subject for dharma, I was careful to couch my terms, explaining that “what” is the fundamental question in Zen, rather than “why” or “how,” with “who, when and where” being pretty self-evident. “Who” the hell does Vladimir Putin think he is? would suffer from focusing on the wrong question, personalizing the issue to too great a degree. “Hell” is also carefully chosen in that, according to classic Zen philosophy, we human beings make our world into hell or heaven, and reap the karmic consequences thereof. “Wrong” is also understood to reside in the realm of “right” views and thoughts, as well as speech, action and livelihood, the social side of the Eightfold Path, with right mindfulness, effort, and meditation rounding out the inner, personal dimension of our all-too-human existence. In Zen, all opinions are not equal, and all teachings do not lead to nirvana.I thought it might be worthwhile to consider Vladimir Putin's behavior, and the attitudes that it seems to betray, in the light of the Buddhist Precepts, which many of us take up as guidelines or reminders, touchpoints to return to from time to time, as we witness our own actions as well as those of others. There is a hoary meme in Buddhism that government leaders — one of the Four Benefactors we appreciate in the Meal Chant — are in their position of power by virtue of merit accumulated in past lives. So the only set of criteria we can hold them to are those of Buddhist morality or ethics, or Shila. Which begs the question, does this mean that the millions of dollars spent campaigning are basically a waste of time and treasure? And as good Buddhists, aren't we supposed to avoid discussing the faults of others?How does the behavior of Putin, as well as President Trump and others in leadership roles, hold up in comparison to the admonitions of the Buddhist Precepts? First, we must remember that the Precepts of Zen have a history of their own. In India and China they may have been expressed and understood differently. Those we receive in modern times convey the current rendering of their meaning, sometimes translated as “morality,” but “ethical” conduct is probably more appropriate. It should also be mentioned in passing that Vladimir Putin is purportedly a Christian, so whatever precepts, lower case “p” he may be following would not necessarily resemble those of Buddhism or Zen.The quotes regarding precepts in Zen are taken from an essay by Shohaku Okumura Roshi, one of my lineage teachers, in the Soto Zen Journal, “Dharma Eye.” This is a recommended online source of information of a scholarly nature for those of us practicing Zen in the West, its masthead shown below.One of the first factoids that Okumura roshi points out is that there are variations in the precepts given to Zen practitioners over time, depending on factors such as lineage and the country. The scholars tell us that Master Dogen could not have received the sixteen precepts he handed down to us in our initiation and formal ceremonies today, as they were not done that way in China. Whether he modified those he received from his Tendai masters or cobbled together his best interpretation of the precepts he felt inclined to transmit as Bodhisattva principles, I leave to further scholarship. Quoting the journal:Dogen Zenji received only the Bodhisattva PreceptsDogen Zenji (1200-1253), the founder of Japanese Soto School, originally became a monk in the Japanese Tendai tradition in 1213. Therefore, he received only the Mahayana precepts. According to his biography, Dogen had some difficulty receiving permission to practice in a Chinese monastery. This was because he had not received the Vinaya precepts which was a requirement to be recognized as a Buddhist monk in China. However, he did not receive the Vinaya precepts. To his disciples and lay students, Dogen Zenji only gave the 16 precepts that were called Busso-shoden-bosatsu-kai (the Bodhisattva precepts that have been correctly transmitted by Buddhas and Ancestors). The nature of the Bodhisattva precepts we receive in Soto Zen tradition is quite different from that of the Vinaya precepts.Okumura Roshi quotes one of those seemingly contradictory statements that appear so often in Zen literature, this one from the Brahma Net Sutra:And in the introduction of the ten major precepts, the Sutra says, “At that time, when Shakyamuni Buddha sat beneath the bodhi tree and attained unsurpassable awakening, he first set forth the Bodhisattva pratimoksha.”Okumura goes on to make the literal case about this claim:Pratimoksha is the text of the precepts, and here, it refers to the Bonmo-kyo. This means that the Bodhisattva precepts were established as soon as the Buddha attained unsurpassable awakening and even before he began to teach. Historically, this is not true. The Buddha did not establish any precepts or regulations before people made mistakes. In the Vinaya text, the stories explaining why the different precepts were made were recorded. When we read these stories, we can see that the Buddhist Sangha was a gathering of actual human beings. People made all sorts of mistakes even though they aspired to study and practice the Dharma under the Buddha's guidance.So the Vinaya, the rules and regulations governing behavior within the original Order, obviously evolved over time, like any other organizational protocols. The main rule governing the harmonious community, or sangha, is, of course harmony. Most communities we belong to are anything but harmonious, and even Zen groups are known to become rancorous from time to time. Human nature raises its head.But the bit about Buddha establishing the pratimoksha in zazen that night I think we have to take on faith. What transpired within his experience in meditation was, and is, the essential meaning of the precepts. As Master Dogen is said to have asked, what precept is not fulfilled in zazen?If we take the precepts as primeval and natural, built-in to existence and to be discovered, not made up, we can accept that translating them into language and written form is a mere approximation of their true meaning. This is why they seem impossible at first glance. They live in the realm of being, not doing.Ceremonially, Zen precepts include and are preceded by a Repentance Verse and taking Refuge in the Three Treasures of Buddhism:RepentanceAt a precepts ceremony in the Soto Zen tradition, first we make repentance by reciting the following verse, “All the twisted karma ever created by me, since of old, / through beginningless greed, anger and ignorance, / born of my body, speech and thought. / I now make complete repentance of it all.”There is another repentance verse taken from Samanthabhadra-sutra that says, “The ocean of all karmic hindrances arises solely from delusive thoughts. / If you wish to make repentance, sit in an upright posture and be mindful of the true nature of reality. / All faults and evil deeds are like frost and dew. / The sun of wisdom enables them to melt away. This verse clearly shows that our precepts are based on awakening to reality and wisdom of such reality.Okumura is now leading us gently by the hand to the realization of the concrete reality of the Precepts.The Three RefugesWe then take refuge in the Three Treasures: Buddha, Dharma and Sangha. The Buddha is the one who awakened to reality. The Dharma is reality itself, the way things truly are. The Sangha are the people who aspire to study and living according to the teaching of the reality of all beings.We also take refuge, or return to, our original nature, which is called Buddha, or awakened. What we awaken to is the Dharma, which is ever-present, but does not depend upon our knowing it. The Sangha members are primarily vested in awakening to this same truth, or it is not truly a Zen community.The Threefold Pure PreceptsNext, we receive the threefold pure precepts: (1) the precept of embracing moral codes, (2) the precept of embracing good deeds, (3) the precept of embracing all living beings. These three points are the direction we walk on the Bodhisattva path.These are often translated as: Do no harm; Do only good; and Do good for others. And yet the truth of the Precepts is that they are beyond doing in the conventional sense. If we find what we are looking for in our practice, the Precepts become our natural intention. But we make mistakes. And resolve to try harder. Eventually our behavior may become consonant with the Precepts, by virtue of practicing zazen.The Ten Major PreceptsThe ten major precepts are: (1) do not kill, (2) do not steal, (3) do not engage in improper sexual conduct, (4) do not lie, (5) do not deal in intoxicants, (6) do not criticize others, (7) do not praise self and slander others, (8) do not be stingy with the dharma or property ,(9) do not give way to anger, (10) do not disparage the Three Treasures.If this sounds like a laundry list of do's and don't's or the 10 Commandments phrased a little differently, there is a kernel of truth in that. But we take up the way of following Zen voluntarily, not under threat of punishment by a vengeful God. They are not merely literal; in that interpretation some are impossible. We come to understand what they mean through the tried and true process of trial and error.Zen and the Precepts are OneThe Bodhisattva precepts we receive in the Soto Zen tradition are also called, Zen-kai (Zen precepts). This means that our zazen and the precepts are one. In our zazen practice, we put our entire being on the ground of true reality of all beings instead of the picture of the world that is a creation of our minds. By striving to keep the precepts in our daily lives, we strive to live being guided by our zazen.So what does all this have to do with design thinking? Design thinking starts with problem definition and proceeds to problem-solving through design-build actions. Zen starts with Buddha's definition of the central problem of existence as sentient beings and offers a method for arriving at solutions, zazen. In design, we speak of design intent, and strive to maintain its integrity through all the trials and tribulations that any existent object, program or system is subject to, including the test of time. Each of these solutions tends to have a weak link in the chain, which is where it eventually breaks down. The design approach is to take the failure as instructive, and redesign. The Zen approach is “Fall down seven times, get up eight.” Considering the Precepts in the light of design intent, we can see that they are meant to foster harmony in the social dimension, in transactions with other individuals and groups. They shine a bright light on the futility of having “designs” on conquering another country, especially in the context of impermanence and imperfection. Whatever gains are realized are only good for whatever is left of one lifetime. Which brings us back to our starting place. Is Putin evil? Or just ignorant?Zen holds that the only thing that finally accompanies you to the grave, and affects life after death, is the deeds committed in this life. Whatever crusade you mount to defend your actions may be based on a category error. To die in the service of a cause greater than yourself may indeed be considered a noble deed. To kill others in the service of a cause you consider greater than or glorifying to yourself, while cowering behind your local cronies, is a crime, in karmic as well as human terms.Putin may be surprised to discover that his reward in heaven is not what he anticipates. He may be surprised to find that that kind of heaven lasts about fifteen minutes, as an old Master once said. He may be disappointed to find that life moves on without him, as he conceives himself. And that any actual afterlife, including his potential rebirth, is not one of his choosing. He may be surprised that karma is not a respecter of persons, however powerful they may regard themselves. And that the Soviet Union, as well as Mother Russia, do not really exist, except in the fevered imagination of a limited mind.* * *Elliston Roshi is guiding teacher of the Atlanta Soto Zen Center and abbot of the Silent Thunder Order. He is also a gallery-represented fine artist expressing his Zen through visual poetry, or “music to the eyes.”UnMind is a production of the Atlanta Soto Zen Center in Atlanta, Georgia and the Silent Thunder Order. You can support these teachings by PayPal to donate@STorder.org. Gassho.Producer: Kyōsaku Jon Mitchell

The Four Spheres are real —as real as anything else —but temporary* * *We left off with the promise that we would continue examining the can of worms called “anxiety.” To a fish or a bird, as Master Dogen analogizes, this would be a more attractive proposition. Growing up outside a small town in southern Illinois, we lived near the country club overlooking an artificial lake, where we and others would go fishing. I sold earthworms for bait on the road to the lake in front of our farmhouse. Amongst other things, I learned to lay sheets of cloth or paper on the ground so that the worms would voluntarily crawl to the surface. That way I didn't have to dig them up. I don't know if they experienced anxiety or not, but they would do their utmost to wriggle out of my grasp. One of Buddha's early experiences of suffering in the world was said to be his observation of earthworms that had been plowed up, writhing in agony.Anxiety is frequently encountered in meditation, including that around concerns as to whether we are doing zazen correctly, along with other obsessions of the worry-wart monkey mind. But also in daily life, especially when the unexpected happens, such as an emergent natural disaster like the current pandemic, or a man-made calamity like the war in Ukraine. When more than one such cataclysms are occurring simultaneously, the synergistic effect elevates the level of anxiety to panic proportions. You can't spell “pandemic” without “panic.” To make matters worse, we often don't know whether we should panic or not, depending on the proximity of the threat, and the quality of the information we have about it. Not to mention those lurking on the horizon that we are completely unaware of at present. One more thing to worry about. What you don't know not only can hurt you — it can kill you.In such cases, it is difficult to determine to what degree our “eye of practice” — Dogen's phrase — can recognize or anticipate the clear and present danger with any accuracy. In the case of climate change, a scientific view from the perspective of extensive training and experience informs an opinion bearing more weight than those based on relative ignorance of atmospheric dynamics or confirmation bias. All too often in the polarized world, the latter wins out. If you have a bias, you want to confirm it.The quote from Dogen's Genjokoan [Actualization of the Fundamental Point] generalizes this reality:Though there are many features in the dusty world and the world beyond conditions you see and understand only what your eye of practice can reachNeedless to say, your eye of practice is your only bulwark against your own prejudices and opinions. Much of what our eye of practice can reach depends upon repetition, not only in Zen but in any field. And I think we can assume that no two person's would be identical, though when “coming to accord” with your Zen teacher, one would presume they are in some wise congruent, at least as regards the degree to which we can grasp the implications of buddha-dharma. Certainly our eye of perception is not as dependable as our eye of practice, as Dogen reminds us in Jijuyu Zammai [Self-fulfilling Samadhi]:All this however does not appear within perception because it is unconstructedness in stillness; it is immediate realization.When calamity occurs, however, very few of us, other than first-responders, have enough significant repeat experience to train us as to how we should respond to the situation at hand. In Zen, contemporary causes and conditions may be regarded as variations on a theme. That in some sense, all people of all times have confronted similar threats to their comfort, health and life, and that Zen has always provided a resort, if not a sanctuary, in dealing with them. In this sense, nothing is new under the sun.But on the other hand, humankind may have reached a tipping point that amounts to an existential threat to the species. In that sense, we may say that this situation is unprecedented, at least in recorded history. One thing is sure: the pandemic and other daily and looming disasters have illuminated some of the underlying premises of Zen, and its central method of meditation. Examining these things thoroughly in practice, another Dogen construction, makes it clear that some of the cultural maxims, memes and morsels of received wisdom are not to be believed. Let's review a few:That which does not kill us makes us stronger. No, not really. Not necessarily, anyway. In “Trial of the Will,” an article in Vanity Fair, Christopher Hitchens, while dying of cancer, criticized this trope:“Whatever doesn't kill me makes me stronger.” Oh, really? Take the case of the philosopher to whom that line is usually attributed, Friedrich Nietzsche, who lost his mind to what was probably syphilis. Or America's homegrown philosopher Sidney Hook, who survived a stroke and wished he hadn't. Or, indeed, the author, viciously weakened by the very medicine that is keeping him alive…Aging and sickness actually make us weaker. We may effect a recovery, but the long-term diagnosis trends downward, in terms of vim and vigor. There are many prognoses for practicing healthier lifestyles that lead to longevity, including Zen meditation and its moderation in all things including diet, but nothing reverses the inevitable decline. But this is natural, according to Buddhism. Get used to it.We are not in control of everything — Nature is. If you disagree, next time nature calls, tell her to take a hike. You are busy meditating just now. See how far you get with that. We do not control our breathing even though we may use that construction in the instructions for meditation, particularly of the yogic variety. Pranayama, as I understood it when first practicing yoga before I was exposed to Zen meditation, is purported to be a kind of breath control. Advanced yogis can ostensibly affect their body temperature, thaw out frozen sheets, et cetera. But if someone knocks you out with a baseball bat, your body will keep breathing on its own, thank you very much. Depending on how hard they hit you. The point is that the body is doing the breathing, and eventually will do the dying. There is not a whole lot that we can do to prevent that in the long run, though we postpone the inevitable as long as we can.Our political leadership is woefully inadequate to the problem. I don't know that anyone would seriously propose a theory contradicting this belaboring of the rather obvious. R. Buckminster Fuller, one of my mentors in the realm of design thinking, said something to the effect that we look to politicians for answers to our everyday problems. But if they really had any answers, they wouldn't be politicians. They would be out doing something to actualize the solutions they had come up with. Politicians are the poster boys for maintaining status quo. Particularly their place at the public trough.Emphasizing the economy over public health is short-sighted. Another goes-without-saying. But it depends on whose economy is getting gored. Yes, yes, yes, I could do the right thing that engenders the greatest good for the greatest number, but if it affects my pocketbook negatively it is difficult to convince me of its value. The tragedy of the commons writ large. Another cow will improve my lot, even though it inevitably degrades the lot we all share in common, the cow pasture.Seeking fame and fortune is a waste of precious time. I once had a Zen student accuse me of seeking fame and fortune as my motive for propagating Zen. I took it as doubly insulting because I am obviously so incompetent at doing so. If I were in it for the money, I wouldn't be in it. There are plenty of ways to make an honest buck. There is no money in Zen. If it were for fame, good luck with that. You are going up against a lot more interesting people who have a lot more entertaining subjects to present than Zen. Zazen is boredom on steroids.We do not need to commute to work. We never did, actually. As long as you are willing to temper your lifestyle to meet your demands on a local level. It was only with the inception of the industrial revolution, with its assembly line production efficiencies, that everyone had to show up at the same place to get the job done. Nowadays that assembly line has been scattered all over the globe, resulting in the supply chain glitches that have further aggravated aspirations of the masters of the overall economy to achieve ever greater growth. It seems there is a natural limitation to growth on the corporate scale, just as there is on the personal level, though that does not keep the captains of industry from trying, however much the former impinges upon the health and vitality of the latter. King cotton, king coal, king oil, king nuke, they must grow, like a cancer, in order to deliver ever-greater profits to their owners. Their hosts may not be so lucky.It may be that the pandemic will inspire a return to the village model, where everyone can work at home or close by, relying on the interconnectivity of world-around media in the information age. But someone still needs to deliver the goods. Enter Amazon. Maybe eventually everything can be delivered to your door.If what you have to offer is good enough — a better mousetrap — they will beat a path to your door. Not no more. To compete with the big boys for the big bucks you have to already have the big bucks. Check out the cost of a Super Bowl commercial. Thirty seconds in 2021 was over half a billion dollars.We can have clear skies, fresh air and clean water. For a brief period everyone was sheltering at home. The expressways and surface streets in the city were relatively quiet. You could hear the birds over the muffled sounds of traffic. There was no rush hour. The air was taking a breather. Everything other than the virus itself took a break. Then, of course, everyone got bored and started pushing to return to “normal.” The politicos got out in front of that parade, as usual. Who wants that kind of “normal”? To close out this rather long segment, let's return momentarily to the model of the Four Spheres of Influence (see diagram). It should be mentioned in passing that Zen finds no conflict with the findings of science — a point that my teacher, Matsuoka Roshi, would often make — and one that is endorsed by HH the Dalai Lama. But with the pressures of population growth and disruptions in the geological and geopolitical realms, that does not mean that everything is hunky-dory, whatever that means.It is clear in the examples cited above that in the face of the current upheavals, the Universal intrudes upon the Natural, Social & Personal realms, sometimes with a vengeance. There is a direct connection between not only the atmosphere, but the sun itself, with the annual orgy of forest fires, for one example. Just as dependably, the Natural takes precedence over Social and Personal spheres, in terms of influence. Read Covid. The Social likewise impacts the Personal, negatively as well as positively. And the Personal is where we ultimately live, but only in the context of the Universal, with intervening Natural and Social spheres. It is no wonder that we feel caught in a trap, along with Master Elvis. And we really cannot go on together, with suspicious minds. Like a vice, when the heat is on, the surrounding spheres become more and more claustrophobic. Where you gonna run, oh sinner man, all on that day?In Zen, we turn to the Three Treasures for refuge. In terms of where they live within the four Spheres, Buddha is Personal; Dharma is Universal; and Sangha is Social. They are all Natural, as is meditation, at least Zen's approach to it. In zazen we find and follow the natural posture, the natural breath, and eventually find ourselves residing in the natural state of mind, awareness or attention.In conclusion, let me suggest that pandemics remind us of basic buddha-dharma: that Life is fragile, and temporary at best. That the tropes that have come out of the collective experience are as unreliable as the ones cited above: we are emphatically not all in this together — witness the uneven distribution of vaccine. On the downside, we are all in this together — unless we all get immune to the virus, it will be the gift that just keeps on giving. Finally, we will not all get through this together, no matter how much the feel-good commentators and politicians vying for your support in dollars, ratings or votes argue to the contrary. Witness the half-billion cases and over six million deaths worldwide. Perhaps Mother Gaia just concluded that there are too many humans demanding too big a piece of the pie, and it's time to give some of the other species a fighting chance.Let's leave it here, or there, for now. It is neither here nor there, as grandpa used to say. But it is now. Please stay tuned for more cans of worms to be opened. Here's your daily koan: How did those worms get into that can, if it was closed?* * *Elliston Roshi is guiding teacher of the Atlanta Soto Zen Center and abbot of the Silent Thunder Order. He is also a gallery-represented fine artist expressing his Zen through visual poetry, or “music to the eyes.”UnMind is a production of the Atlanta Soto Zen Center in Atlanta, Georgia and the Silent Thunder Order. You can support these teachings by PayPal to donate@STorder.org. Gassho.Producer: Kyōsaku Jon Mitchell

In Zen practice, we are instructed to view each activity as an expression of our true nature or buddha mind. We cannot find buddha mind in the past or in the future—only in the present. Master Mazu famously answered the question ‘What is buddha?' with the iconic phrase ‘This mind here now is buddha.” This talk considers two common misinterpretations of this statement—naturalness and essentialism—and suggests practices for establishing here-now-presence. Welcome to Zen Mind! Become a Boulder Zen Center Member! It is the best way to support Zenki Roshi and the continuation of this podcast. See all events and join our mailing list at www.boulderzen.org. Email us at office@boulderzen.org or give us a call: (303) 442–3007. If you're enjoying these talks, please subscribe and leave us a rating or review! Zenki Christian Dillo Roshi is the the guiding teacher at the Boulder Zen Center in Colorado, USA. This podcast shares the regular dharma talks given at the center. Zenki Roshi approaches Zen practice as a craft of transformation, liberation, wisdom and compassionate action. His interest is to bring Buddhism alive within the Western cultural context, while staying committed to the traditional emphasis on yogic embodiment.

It's all personal —but entangled seamlesslywith universal* * *This is the last of a quartet of essays on semantic modeling, an approach that emphasizes simultaneity of components in a system and how they interact with each other, a more geometric than algebraic framework for portraying causes and effects. This preference for simultaneous interface over linear causality is said to be characteristic of the Eastern mind in comparison with Western thinking, and is illustrated by Buddha's Twelvefold Chain of Interdependent Origination (not illustrated here), his own model of “how things get to be the way they are,” with which you are by now probably familiar.Continuing with our exploration of intentionally applying analysis to subjects we usually approach intuitively, Zen and Zen meditation in particular, here is a blank version of the tetrad for you to print out and play with, penciling in various aspects of your practice and/or daily life you may want to get a handle on. You may treat the four components and their connections as representing critical relationships, between which you feel a need to strike a better balance. Such as your job, your family, your household, and a fourth area of endeavor such as a hobby or charity with which you are engaged. In examining the six connectors between the four components, you may discover a disturbing disconnect that is important to re-establish, or you may determine that one of the four principal areas is way too demanding of your time and resources, and you may want to begin emphasizing the others, in order to achieve a more harmonious balance between all four. Balance is characteristic of Zen's middle way.There may also be cases where you can think of three components but not a complementary fourth. This may require taking a backward step, one of Master Dogen's coinages, to see the bigger picture. For example, the three marks of suffering, or dukkha, are often cited as “aging, sickness and death.” If you want to analyze their relationship with the tetrad diagram, you might want to fill in the fourth with “birth,” without which the other three would be meaningless. The exercise might reveal the goes-without-saying truism that birth is the leading cause of death, for example. If you can isolate only three components in a system you would like to look at, you are probably overlooking something. You can always include yourself as the fourth component, for instance in considering the Three Treasures of Buddha, Dharma and Sangha. What is your practice relationship to each of them? Them to each other?We introduced the next graphic in earlier segments, also based on four components but expressed as nesting spheres. I term this one the Four Spheres of Influence, including the personal, the social, the natural, and the universal spheres, from inside to outside. This model represents our surrounding context in layers, from the closest and most intimate on the personal level to the most remote and impersonal on the universal level, with the interim social and natural worlds in between. But note that the degrees of influence are asymmetrical. Those incoming from the outside have an effect on our personal sphere that is massively disproportionate to the effect that we can have on the outer spheres. Can anyone say “covid”? Or “climate change”?Of course, the continuing, seemingly intractable international armed conflicts and wars around the globe illustrate that we are in a perilous period in human history, in which an ever-smaller group of powerful people can have a devastatingly destructive impact on an ever-larger portion of the population. Witness Ukraine. The prospect of unleashing chemical or biological weapons looms, not to mention the dreaded arsenal of nuclear weapons of mass destruction. Unlike Iraq, Russia really does have them.But these four spheres can also be contrasted and compared by modeling them as a tetrad instead. In the next illustration we can structure the order as our personal sphere at #1, naturally; social comes second, natural third, fourth and finally the universal. Subsumed within the personal sphere are included the binaries of nature versus nurture, including DNA as a fundamental dimension of the former. Nurture would include the influences of parents and peers as well as academic and professional mentors. Personal includes such other aspects as our general health, age, and medical conditions, as well as diet and exercise regimens, and demographics such as time-of-life phases, from childhood and adolescence through adulthood, parenthood, empty nester, retirement, and the “golden years.”Zen praxis as an overview combines the personal dimension of individual practice of zazen with the social dimension of group practice, in harmonious balance. The key term is harmonious, which is not always true of all the many social groups with which we associate. On the social level, relationships to family and friends go both ways, embracing not only their nurturing influence on us, but also our influence upon them, and mutual collaboration with colleagues. We can help foster harmony, or not.A further extension into the larger community and culture, or social milieu, illuminates the various roles that we play in that context. Which of course changes with personal factors such as time-of-life, career choices, and the maturation of family ties. In Zen, we are chary of the clinging kind of self-identification that we tend to associate with those roles, as they are all temporary, for one thing, and our investment in the role tends to distort or inflate our sense of self. Where the social world becomes problematical is when our roles no longer match our actual function and place in the social system, when we find ourselves living as if circumstances have not changed, when in fact they have, out of our control. Technical difficulties in adjusting to reality.The corporate entities in the social circle have intruded with ever-more influence in many of our personal lives, including the institutions of elementary, middle and higher learning where we get our education, join fraternities or sororities, which can have an overweening impact on professional careers, working with or against other corporations in business and political enterprise. Owing partly to world-around expansion of commerce and communications, these corporations represent an intertwined network of cities, states, nations and international groups of global citizens. And no, corporations are not persons.The fourth component I place in the social sphere is that very technological evolution, which has gone global in its impact and influence. I think we have barely begun to scratch that particular surface, and that even the most farsighted amongst us cannot begin to predict where it will lead. Or whether it will be nipped in the bud by the unintended consequences — read climate change — that it has engendered. Everything seems to fulfil the old prophecy of carrying the seed of its own destruction. This would be one variation on the theme of emptiness, that while all things are definitely real they are also definitely not permanent. Poking the bear of Mother Nature out of her hibernation is never wise.Moving to the natural world, I begin with the three elements of the earth with which we live in symbiosis, and which we have polluted, perhaps to an intractable degree: air, water and land; the atmosphere, rivers lakes and oceans, and the continents with their fragile layer of arable soil and fire-prone forest cover. The intricate nature of these components and their interrelationship to earth's orbit around the sun is revealed in the whack-a-mole interplay of seasonal weather and climate dynamics, with increasingly unmanageable consequences of massive fires, hurricanes and tornadoes. Day and night are another obvious consequence of the interconnectedness of the planet and the solar system that we take for granted, but which harbor a secret of Zen, as touched on in Master Tozan's Hokyo Zammai, Precious Mirror Samadhi:In darkest night it is perfectly clearin the light of dawn it is hiddenWhat the “it” is in this declaration I leave to you. It points at the deeper meaning of consciousness, with its internal illumination, no matter the external circumstances. But this insight, however profound, does not amount to an escape hatch from the pressing exigencies of the moment. We are all earthbound.When looking at the earth itself, especially from space, as we have all seen, the first generation of human beings in history to be so privileged, we enter into the universal. Actually, of course, we have never left the universal. Its powerful influence has been impacting the presence of human life on the planet far before human beings appeared. One only has to look at the moon to see the literal impact of incoming from the universe in the craters formed by that impact. But the earth itself is constantly undergoing change of a universal order, in the form of plate tectonics and volcanic activity, to name a few. The connection to the moon is now being contemplated as a stepping-stone into the cosmos, the possibility of populating other planets, long a dream of science fiction visionaries. Unfortunately, if it actually comes to fruition, we may extend the disposable economy to include whole planets. There is already talk of sending trash into orbit, while it is already a major problem in rivers and oceans.As we enter into that final frontier, after the moon comes old Sol and the solar system. Then onward and outward to the galaxy, the local cluster, and beyond. Again, how far we can go in this venture is limited by the physics and biology of reality. The point of diminishing returns on a cosmic scale is likely to be in our own backyard, relatively speaking. Especially considering the proposed expansion of the universe. Not only is the rainbow receding, it is doing so at an accelerating rate, if we are to believe the Hubbles of the world. Better to turn our attention to the immediate issues of survival on the third rock from this particular sun, than be distracted by the great cosmic what-if. But embracing the larger context and its jaw-dropping gobsmacking scale may help to encourage this kind of modesty. There is no real separation of the universal, natural, social and personal spheres. But where we can begin to take effective action is stunningly clear. Everything begins at home. And there is no time to waste.In the next segment we will move on, setting system analysis and modeling aside, and take up other principles of Design thinking and their connection, however tenuous, to our practice of Zen and zazen.* * *Elliston Roshi is guiding teacher of the Atlanta Soto Zen Center and abbot of the Silent Thunder Order. He is also a gallery-represented fine artist expressing his Zen through visual poetry, or “music to the eyes.”UnMind is a production of the Atlanta Soto Zen Center in Atlanta, Georgia and the Silent Thunder Order. You can support these teachings by PayPal to donate@STorder.org. Gassho.Producer: Kyōsaku Jon Mitchell

He was the great sagewho said no need for zazen —if you grasp the truth* * *At the beginning of the last section on analysis and systems modeling, I suggested it may be worthwhile to delve a bit more deeply into applying the tetrad to the scope of activities in daily life as well as directly to Zen practice, particularly zazen. And that we would continue along these lines with yet another variation on the tetrad theme, looking at things from a four-pointed perspective. It turns out that there are many tropes and memes in Buddhism that consist of four parts, starting with the Four Noble Truths. Another is attributed to the 28th Patriarch in India, first in China, the formidable Bodhidharma. He is said to have suggested four areas of observation that are characteristic of meditation, at that time of course not referred to as Zen, or Ch'an, as it later was. The four main areas he defined are observing the breath, the physical sensations, the emotional mood swings, and the mental conceptions that we come up with in and about meditation.The semantic model illustration includes my first draft attempt to fill out the four subsets within each of these four main objects of observation. You may want to substitute other aspects as you see fit. Under breath, I have listed very simple dimensions, such as inhaling and exhaling, counting and following the breath, which are characteristic of our typical instructions for breathing while in zazen.The most important may be the last listed, that is that we follow the breath, rather than try to control it. This principle really applies to all the other dimensions of zazen meditation as well, such as that we actually follow the body in zazen. It knows, and will eventually teach us the natural posture, so we cannot really get it wrong unless we refuse to listen to what our body is telling us.Under the physical component of the model, we find the five conventional physical senses, including that of the body itself, usually lumped under the tactility of the skin as the largest organ of the body. But “body” includes all the internal sensations of weight, the sense of balance and location in space, or proprioception, plus the many ancillary sensations such as itching and various aches and pains. The other organs of the physical body come into play in meditation, such as the eyes, for which we recommend practicing a fixed gaze, rather than closing them as is recommended in the popular forms of so-called “mindfulness” meditation. To which I query, how mindful can it be if it excludes vision, our primary source of incoming information? But I digress.The ears are considered perhaps more accessible to the settling of the mind through deep listening, than the more acute stimuli received through seeing, and the resistance we encounter in the realm of feeling, the accommodation of the body to sitting still in upright meditation. The nose and tongue play a relatively minor role, in that they adapt very quickly to the lack of stimulation of fragrance and flavor. However, once we have become comfortable with the physical dimensions of meditation, the emotional and mental begin to kick in.Under what the great sage classified as emotional sensations, or mood swings, I have listed four pairs of mood or affect that I have come across in my experience as well as in studying dharma and modern analysis of psychological phenomena. Elation or “bliss” is sometimes touted as the goal of meditation, as in “pursuing your bliss,” another pop trope of the New Age perspective on spiritual practice. In Zen, we recognize such highs as the natural vacillation between extremes with the lows, such as depression or milder forms such as ennui or melancholy. We are all bipolar, which becomes manic-depressive at its extreme manifestations.Serenity versus anxiety is another way of saying the same thing, perhaps more influenced by the social sphere of our daily lives, which provide plenty of rationales for experiencing anxiety, and not many opportunities to settle into serenity. Thus the existence of Zen centers, temples and monasteries. As Master Dogen reminds us in Jijuyu Zammai [Self-Fulfilling Samadhi] (emphasis mine):Grass trees and lands which are embraced by this teaching together radiate a great light and endlessly expound the inconceivable profound dharmaGrass trees and wallsbring forth the teaching for all beings common people as well as sages and they in accord extend this dharma for the sake of grass trees and wallsEmphasizing the “walls” in this passage points to the “realm of self-awakening and awakening others” mentioned earlier in the same teaching, the efforts that the ancestors made to provide environments conducive to training. Achok Rinpoche mentioned this as a form of dana, or Buddhist generosity, in his guest talk at our Zen center some years ago. The walls of the zendo represent this extension of dharma for the sake of grass and trees, complementing the manifestation of dharma in the form of Nature.Faith and doubt as a binary encapsulate another vacillation in the emotional sphere, which provide another contrast with pop spirituality as well as traditional forms of theism. A conventional interpretation of faith is that it brooks no doubt, and even regards the appearance of doubt as a crisis of faith. In Zen, you are advised to “keep your doubt at a keen edge,” an old saying its attribution lost to memory. The more doubt we feel, the more faith we are called upon to exercise, just as we manifest courage in the presence of a high threshold of fear, not the absence of fear. If we can take the appropriate action, in the face of great fear or doubt, we can be said to be courageous, or faithful, respectively. If our faith is dependent upon the absence of any challenge that would create doubt, it is a faux faith, and will not stand the test of time and circumstance. Even Buddha admonished us to not take his teaching on faith, but to test it out in the crucible of our own experience.The last dyad, excitement and exhaustion, I have heard is a Tibetan description of the last vacillation that we can expect to encounter in meditation. Excitement at the prospect of some transformation being possible, some insight into the reality of nonduality, spiritual awakening, et cetera, however you might wish to characterize your aspiration to Bodhi mind. But at the same time exhaustion, extreme weariness at the continuing frustration of trying so hard and seemingly getting nowhere, plateauing again and again in your quest for understanding. Proceeding in the face of little or no indication of progress is the prescription for zazen. Like the last 10 yards of the hundred yard dash, it doesn't get any easier as we approach what we hope is the finish line. And it doesn't help to be reminded there is no finish line. The worse it gets, the better it is, expresses the ironic perversity of the dilemma. Just don't give up was my teacher's advice to me. And mine to you.Lastly but not leastly in Bodhidharma's model of meditation observation is the mental machinations we undergo courtesy of the monkey mind, but also as a natural process of the empirical method of observing primarily the evidence of the senses, but also reflection: going over and over it in our minds. This second part of empirical process is where we can go down the rabbit hole of rumination, obsessive-compulsive habit patterns of thought. But it is also the source of the highest achievements of the arts and sciences, when analytical reasoning is balanced by intuitive insight. This is testified to by the third Patriarch in China, the estimable Master Sengcan, in his poem Hsinhsinming — Trust in Mind:If you wish to move in the One Way do not dislike even the world of senses and ideas Indeed to accept them fully is identical with true EnlightenmentSo we do not reject the sense-data coming in nor do we trust it to be 100% accurate. Nor do we turn away from the power of the mind to perceive, analyze and conceive higher and higher approximations to the reality of existence, as exemplified by the revolutions in the science of physics, and indeed the teachings of Buddhism. But, like chasing the rainbow, the closer we come to capturing it, the more it exceeds our grasp. However, we should not be discouraged and give up the quest.In the dyads subsumed under the conceptual power of the mind I include the classic formulation of form versus emptiness, the translation of rupa and shunyatta into English. As in most cases, something is lost in translation, but fortunately we are not totally dependent upon words or language, but rely on our own experience in meditation to embrace the reality that these terms are pointing to. Form is the actual appearance of reality that we are all familiar with in our own awareness; emptiness is the underlying dynamic of ever-changing morphology. The essential nature of the material world is its immateriality.Nihilism and eternalism are likewise traditional dualities debated in the history of, and probably predate, Buddhism. Either standpoint, that nothing exists but delusion or illusion, or that anything is eternally existent, as a worldview, is considered an extreme position that ignores “the rest of the story” so to say. Buddhism lands somewhere in the middle, holding that those things that seem permanent are actually changing, if at different frequencies, and that the absolute nonexistence of anything is a state of denial.This is succinctly addressed earlier in the same Ch'an poem:To deny the reality of things is to miss their realityTo assert the emptiness of things is to miss their realityFurther, to assert the absolute existence of things is to miss their reality. Things exist, but by virtue of emptiness. They arise, abide, change and decay. The abiding part is the mystery, the delusion. But that all things are impermanent can be argued as the proof of permanence. The aggregate condition of ever-changing causes is a permanent condition of change. From the same poem, toward the end:Emptiness here Emptiness there but the infinite universe stands always before your eyesInfinitely large and infinitely small no difference for definitions have vanished and no boundaries are seenSo too with Being and non-Being“Being and non-being” is another phrasing of absolutes as extreme assertions about reality. But if “definitions have vanished and no boundaries are seen,” the apparent separation of being and non-being comes under scrutiny. The antipode to this idea is that everything that exists now always has and always will, just not in the same configuration.As the poem moves toward conclusion, Master Sengcan assures us:To live in this faith is the road to nonduality because the nondual is one with the trusting mindSo from everyday dualities such as proposed separation of body and mind, self and other, the analysis proceeds to consider the meta-binary of nonduality as opposed to duality itself, as such. As Matsuoka Roshi would often say, “There is no dichotomy in Zen.” Then where is the dichotomy? Are duality and non-duality simply concepts, generated by a fevered mind? Or are they general principles, extracted from particular case experiences, the very essence of intelligence applying the empirical method?In the next segment we will entertain our last experiment with the tetrad analysis model, taking a closer look at what it reveals about the relationships between the four spheres of influence introduced in an earlier section as nesting spheres, as illustrated here. We will explore some of the relationships between the personal, social, natural, and universal spheres which, as a concentric model, paint a picture of proximate and distant surrounding causes and conditions of our existence, and the comprehensive context for our Zen practice.* * *Elliston Roshi is guiding teacher of the Atlanta Soto Zen Center and abbot of the Silent Thunder Order. He is also a gallery-represented fine artist expressing his Zen through visual poetry, or “music to the eyes.”UnMind is a production of the Atlanta Soto Zen Center in Atlanta, Georgia and the Silent Thunder Order. You can support these teachings by PayPal to donate@STorder.org. Gassho.Producer: Kyōsaku Jon Mitchell

Buddhist ethical training, like the Yoga path enumerated by Patanjali, involves five precepts or mindfulness trainings. In Zen, there are three different but interpenetrating ways of approaching the precepts. In this episode, Pobsa presents an introductory overview centered around the guiding principle of ahimsa, "non-harming" or "non-violence." If you wish to support this podcast, please subscribe, comment, like, review, and share! Also, dana can be offered at: https://www.mindfulnessyoga.net/dana....OR https://www.paypal.com/paypalme/poeps... If you've any suggestions or requests for future episode topics: https://www.mindfulnessyoga.net/conta...

Danica Shoan Ankele, Senior Monastic and Dharma Holder - Zen Mountain Monastery, Friday 02/25/2022 - In Zen practice we have many sacred containers of ceremony--liturgy, rituals, sesshins, and koans—into which we enter. And yet, why is it that we practice this ancient mystical tradition? For stress reduction, or to wake up to life's mystery and be free? In this talk, monastic Shoan explores this wisdom tradition with readings from Zenju Manuel's "The Shamanic Bones of Zen." When we enter ceremony, we can begin to see for ourselves that there is no separation between ourselves and the mystical.

Ryūshin Paul Haller gives insight into the inclination to reach beyond our limits. In Zen ceremonies, we vow discover a path to wider notion of wellbeing. Despite our karma, our stories, the challenges- we try to live in service of others. Navigating the paradox of existence gives vitality to each moment. This liberation and effort echoes far beyond what we can ever know.

The Outer Limits of Inner Truth welcomes the return of Metaphysical Teacher & Author Dick Sutphen ​Dick Sutphen has spent 45 years researching human-potential and psychic abilities and he is called “America's Leading Past-Life Therapist” by the Body Mind Spirit Festivals in England and Australia. As a specialist in Past-Life Regression and Spirit-Contact Therapy®, he has a private hypnotherapy practice, and has created 600 mind-programming CDs. ​​Dick Sutphen also started the Valley of the Sun Publishing Company in Scottsdale, Arizona in the 1960s and was founder and former director of a Hypnosis Center of Scottsdale. Dick's first best-selling book was in 1976, “You Were Born Again To Be Together,” Simon and Schuster Pocketbooks. While out on tour for his book, Dick was the first to hypnotize a member of the audience on national television on the David Susskind's Show, Tom Snyder's Tomorrow Show, and Good Morning America. Dick has created and conducted Master of Life, Bushido, and other Psychic and Reincarnation Seminars worldwide and developed innovative group hypnosis exploration techniques that are now being used internationally. Over 300,000 people have attended one of Dick's seminars. As a Professional Hypnotherapist, he is well-known for his hypnotist trainings and has received numerous awards. Dick's first books were published in the 1960s by Dick Sutphen Studio for the professional advertising and design market. The large hardbound editions of Old Engravings & Illustrations Volumes I & II were highly successful and led to a dozen additional titles that sold worldwide. The only consumer title published by the Studio was The Mad Old Ads. The book received major media reviews and was picked up and published by McGraw Hill, New York, and W. H. Allan, London. Between 1976 and 2012, Dick wrote, produced and recorded over 600 audio and video programs that included hypnosis, meditations, sleep programming, and audio books on cassette. Most were released by Valley of the Sun, but he also created projects for several other audio publishers. Foreign rights to Dick Sutphen books have been sold in nine countries and several licences were given to Nightengale-Conant to produce and sell unique titles. =================== Selected Writings & Lessons From Dick Sutphen What you resist, you draw to yourself. As long as you resist something, you are locked into combating it and merely perpetuate its influence in your life. Resistance is fear, something that you need to karmically resolve. You must let go of the fear by encountering it until you learn to consciously detach from what you view to be negative. – Dick Sutphen in “The Oracle Within” Why believe in God when you can experience God? Belief is a poor substitute for experience. If you want to know, don't simply believe. You can only believe things you don't actually know. – Dick Sutphen in “The Oracle Within” Joshu is my favorite Zen Master. It is said that a monk once asked him, “To be holy – what is it like?” Joshu replied, “To dump a mountain of shit on a clean plain.” In Zen language that means if we do not divide the world into “holy” and “unholy,” there is nothing to stain it. – Dick Sutphen in Master of Life magazine A Zen monk was with his roshi one day when the roshi was murdered by thieves. His roshi cried out in fear and pain as he was being murdered, and this disturbed the student greatly. He was about to leave the monastery when another roshi approached him and said, “Fool! The object of Zen is not to suppress all emotion, but to free us to fully express at the appropriate moment.” – Dick Sutphen in “Master of Life” A Zen story concerns an elder monk in a Japanese monastery. The young novices were in awe of this man, not because he was severe with them, but because nothing ever seemed to upset him. A few of the young men decided to test the monk by devising a plan to scare him. Early one dark winter morning, it was the monk's duty to carry tea to the Founders Hall. The young men hid in the alcove of a long and winding corridor near the entrance to the hall. Just as the monk passed, they rushed out screaming like crazy men. Without faltering a step, the monk continued walking on quietly, carefully carrying the tea. When he arrived at his destination he set down the tray, covered the tea bowl so no dust could fall into it and then fell back against the wall and cried out in shock “Oh-oh-oh!” A Zen Master relating this story said, “There is nothing wrong with emotions. Only one must not let them carry one away, or interfere with what one is doing.” – Dick Sutphen in “The Oracle Within” ===================== Dick Sutphen Quotes “Everyone is doing the best they can – not the best they know how but the best they can. So to judge others by our own standards is always a mistake.” – Dick Sutphen “Love me without fear. Trust me without questioning. Need me without demanding. Want me without restrictions. Accept me without change. Desire me without inhibitions. For a love so free . . . Will never fly away.” Dick Sutphen   Dick Sutphen, New Age, Spiritual, Psychic, hypnosis, energy healing