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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.
MahaPariNirvana Part 16. “On Long Life” begins with Shakyamuni asking for questions to resolve any and all doubts remaining in the collected students of this congregation prior to his parinirvana. “Buddhism Reference” – Now Available in the TLK Bookstore; www.lulu.com/spotlight/kwoon
MahaPariNirvana Part 12. In this chapter “On Grief”, we may well ask if it is the grief of Shakyamuni that he must bare the unwavering clinging to illusions of the Semblance Dharma in the monks assembled. “Buddhism Reference” – Now Available Threefoldlotus.com/home/Ebooks.htm How to use this study resource : https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=suIQ89Nc3BU Buddhism resources : http://threefoldlotus.com www.lulu.com/spotlight/kwoon www.cafepress.com/shop/gohonzon/products PayPal.me/sifusylvain Patreon.com/TLK instagram.com/sylvainchamberlain/
MahaPariNirvana Part 11. Cunda makes his leave, and no sooner do the crowds commence with the whining. How must Shakyamuni get through to them before departing? “Buddhism Reference” – Now Available Threefoldlotus.com/home/Ebooks.htm How to use this study resource : https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=suIQ89Nc3BU Buddhism resources : http://threefoldlotus.com www.lulu.com/spotlight/kwoon www.cafepress.com/shop/gohonzon/products PayPal.me/sifusylvain Patreon.com/TLK instagram.com/sylvainchamberlain/
In Episode 272, I discussed the third chapter of Zen Master Keizan's book The Denkoroku, or the Record of the Transmission of Illumination. In the interest of thoroughness, I figured I'd start back at chapter one, with Shakyamuni Buddha's “I and All Beings.” This text explores the nature of enlightenment and the tension between individuality and non-separation.
====================================================SUSCRIBETEhttps://www.youtube.com/channel/UCNpffyr-7_zP1x1lS89ByaQ?sub_confirmation=1==================================================== DEVOCIÓN MATUTINA PARA MUJERES 2025“AMANECER CON JESÚS”Narrado por: Sirley DelgadilloDesde: Bucaramanga, ColombiaUna cortesía de DR'Ministries y Canaan Seventh-Day Adventist Church===================|| www.drministries.org ||===================12 de EneroSerás lo que debes ser, o si no, no eres nada«¡Anhela mi alma y aún ardientemente desea los atrios de Jehová! ¡Mi corazón y mi carne cantan al Dios vivo!» (Salmos 84: 2).El general San Martín dijo: «Serás lo que debes ser, o si no, no eres nada». Una corta, pero poderosa frase que envía un mensaje profundo y tajante a quienes están recorriendo su camino en la vida. No podemos darnos a medias, o en este caso, no somos nada.Cuenta la escritora Emilia Pardo Bazán (1851-1921) que un conde soñó que se veía paseando en un frondoso bosque, cuando una paloma cayó malherida en las manos del príncipe Shakyamuni. De pronto apareció el cazador para reclamar a su presa con el alegato de que le pertenecía por haberla cazado. El príncipe le rogó que le dejara rescatar al ave; el cazador accedió con la condición de que le diera una porción de su propia carne igual al peso de la paloma.El conde observaba atónito la escena. El cazador quitó un pedazo del hombro derecho del príncipe y lo puso en la balanza, no obstante, esta no se movió ni un centímetro. La paloma pesaba más. El cazador cortó otro pedazo de carne del hombro izquierdo y lo puso en la balanza; sin embargo, siguió sin moverse. Así fue cortando por partes al príncipe, pero aquellos pedazos de muslos y hombros no lograban mover la balanza ni pesar más que la paloma. Entonces el príncipe dijo: ponme completo. Cuando todo su cuerpo desangrado fue puesto sobre la balanza, esta se inclinó hacia el lado opuesto de la paloma. Ahora el príncipe pesaba más que ella y se pudo efectuar el rescate. Emilia escribe al final del relato «hay que darse todo, ¿o no aspirar a redimir».?Ese también fue el lema del cielo. San Juan 3:16 lo afirma. El cielo dio todo; Jesús dio su cuerpo entero para que nuestra redención fuera válida. Él nos rescató de manos del cazador. ¿Habremos de entregarnos a su servicio a medias? ¿Así le pagaremos su rescate?Querida amiga, hoy te invito a cantar: «Mi espíritu, alma y cuerpo, mi ser, mi vida entera, cuál viva santa ofrenda, te entrego a ti, mi Dios». Seamos fieles y enteramente dedicadas a la obra que Jesús nos ha encomendado, o no seremos nada.
MahaPariNirvana Part 8. Cunda argues with Manjushri on the central point of Shakyamuni's Lotus teaching. “Buddhism Reference” – Now Available Threefoldlotus.com/home/Ebooks.htm
MahaPariNirvana Part 7. Cunda discovers his Buddha Consciousness and Shakyamuni exhorts him to teach and support all those he can. “Buddhism Reference” – Now Available Threefoldlotus.com/home/Ebooks.htm
MahaPariNirvana Part 6. Chapter 2 introduces the upasaka Cunda to us for the first time. And with him we begin the long back and forth of many questioners of Shakyamuni to resolve their capacity to understand. “Buddhism Reference” – Now Available Threefoldlotus.com/home/Ebooks.htm
ADZG 1218 ADZG Sunday Morning Dharma Talk by Douglas Floyd The post Shakyamuni Sees the Morning Star first appeared on Ancient Dragon Zen Gate.
Buddhism Reference – Tripitaka. (the Three baskets) The early transcriptions of Shakyamuni-buddha's teachings in Pali and later Chinese (Agama sutras) represent the two versions of translations of the earliest teachings of Buddhism. “Buddhism Reference” – Now Available Threefoldlotus.com/home/Ebooks.htm
With so much to learn about Buddhist history, it can be hard to know where to start! This month, we're doing a short series covering Buddhist history. Today's episode covers the early history of SGI Nichiren Buddhism.Online Articles:The Humanism of The Lotus SutraBuddhist LineageBooks:The Lotus Sutra and Its Opening and Closing SutrasThe Living BuddhaThe Wisdom of the Lotus Sutra SeriesThe Heart of The Lotus SutraReach out to us at connect@buddhability.org to get connected with a Buddhability community near you.
El Discípulo Gampopa Gampopa fue el principal discípulo de Milarepa y el maestro del primer Karmapa, Düsum Kyempa. En la época del Buda histórico Shakyamuni, la encarnación de Gampopa era llamada Chandrapada y vivía como el hijo de un hombre rico en Rayagaha. Fue un gran Bodisatva que se hizo discípulo del Buda. En el lugar de la montaña del buitre, donde el Buda dio muchas enseñanzas sobre el Mahayana. Chandrapada pidió las enseñanzas hoy conocidas como el Sutra Samadiraja. En ese Sutra el Buda comenta su conexión con Chandrapada en vidas anteriores. Hace muchas kalpas, en la época que declinaron las enseñanzas del Buda Ratnapadmacandra, había un Bodisatva llamado Supuspacandra. Kalpa es un término sánscrito que significa eón o largo período y es utilizado principalmente en cosmología budista e hindú. Él dio enseñanzas a muchos otros Bodisatvas cerca del palacio del Rey Suradatta, quien ejecutó a Supuscapandra. Luego cambió de forma de pensar sobre las enseñanzas y se arrepintió profundamente de lo que había hecho. El Buda explica en el Sutra Samadiraja que él mismo había sido el rey y Chandrapada había sido el Bodisatva Supuscapandra. Justipreciemos la declaración …
Returning to the twists and turns of the endless, meandering 2024 campaign for POTUS, and looming uncertainty of threatened challenges to the vote promising to bollix up the results, the question arises as to what this may have to do with Zen. The dedicated Zen guy who produces the UnMind podcast suggested that we take up the premise of the “Bodhisattva ideal” in Buddhism, comparing and contrasting behaviors and apparent attitudes of the candidates — and politicians in general — to this lofty ideal and aspiration. Somewhere in the copious Zen literature I came across the proposition that governmental leaders find themselves in positions of power owing to karmic merit accumulated in past lives, apparently whether they know it or not. We can suppose that this quaint notion arose in the context of predominantly Buddhist societies, such as that of Ashoka the Great in India, or in the later empires or principalities in China. It requires quite a stretch of the imagination to interpret our current political situation from that standpoint, though an online meme that one of the candidates is the “chosen of God” is even more ludicrous to contemplate. Looking at the meaning of “Bodhisattva” thorough the eyes of Google, the first hit that comes up is from the University of Washington, Seattle-based home of the Huskies, the first thing that comes up on their homepage. We will defer any consideration of college football as the key branding element of UW, and higher education in general, for a later segment. Their more-or-less traditional definition of the Bodhisattva assumedly comes from their comparative religion department: Bodhisattvas are enlightened beings who have put off entering paradise in order to help others attain enlightenment. There are many different Bodhisattvas, but the most famous in China is Avalokitesvara, known in Chinese as Guanyin. Bodhisattvas are usually depicted as less austere or inward than the Buddha. — https://depts.washington.edu Parsing this definition, I have a few quibbles. We prefer the use of “enlightening” beings as it indicates a process in which all of us comprise a work in progress, whereas “enlightened” indicates a state of completion. No true bodhisattva would ever claim to be enlightened in that sense. In the sense of enlightened self interest and the best interests of others, yes. Then there is the idea of “entering paradise.” The Buddhist term “Nirvana” is not pointing at another dimension or plane of existence, but the true nature of this world in which we find ourselves — so-called “Samsara.” As Master Dogen reminds us, “actually, the Other Shore (of Nirvana) comes to us”; we do not go to it. As Shohaku Okumura-roshi once mentioned, “Everybody says they want to go to Nirvana. But when you go there, there is nobody there. Only bodhisattvas can go to Nirvana, and they choose to stay here. So our charge is to change Samsara into Nirvana.” This is what Dogen means by saying the other shore comes to us. The reference to “many different Bodhisattvas” and the most famous being Avalokitesvara, Guanyin in China, or Kanzeon in Japan, reinforces the notion that bodhisattvas are a special class of beings, outside the kin or ordinary mortals — much like the icons of other religions, such as canonized prophets, saints and saviors, or demigods. My understanding of the Zen ideal is that we are all bodhisattvas, whether we know it or not. And finally, the reference to their relatively diminished austerity seems somewhat overwrought. My reading of the original teachings attributed to Shakyamuni reveal a profound humility and accessibility, and a remarkable empathy for his audience, that any bodhisattva would aspire to emulate. Awakening of the Bodhi mind is concomitant with the Bodhisattva vow — to help all others before reaching the other shore — according to Dogen, who should know. So how do our current carriers of partisan banners stack up against this image? I would suggest that their motivations have little or nothing to do with entering paradise, for one. So in that, they are like bodhisattvas — but focusing their efforts on the present and immediate future of prosperity in the secular sphere — not the spiritual realm. In American politics, and perhaps that of Western countries in general, there is an underlying implication that behavior in the societal sphere is indicative of one's “values,” which tend to land in the ethical, moral, and spiritual column. This may be a vestigial remnant of the puritan ethic that pervaded the early migrants to these shores, the after- effects of which we witness today, including in the performative permutations of partisan politics. But, quoting myself in an earlier UnMind segment, there are brute behaviors of our fellow-travelers in this particular time and space that cannot be excused as politic: When it comes to indiscriminate bombing of civilians and children, we are no longer in the realm of “politics.” If we are silent, we become complicit. Buddha, I believe, would have spoken out against this betrayal of compassion and wisdom. As did Matsuoka Roshi, concerning the corrupt regime in Vietnam, and other atrocities of his time. We can look to the teachings and meditation practice of Zen Buddhism to find a degree of solace and sanctuary from these insults to humanity, but we cannot run, and we cannot hide from them, ultimately. But we do not have to join the partisan divide, either. In the same episode, we provided some historical context by referring to the foundational documents of the Founding Fathers, including the Declaration of Independence, with particular attention to the second section: We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness. This begins to sound a lot like the Bodhisattva ideal applied to the salvation of others, at least in the secular realm. If we are all equal, we all have equal potential to wake up in the most comprehensive sense, as did Shakyamuni Buddha. We also innately deserve to be treated with the highest degree of respect from our peers. And each and all have equal claim to life — within the realistic constraints of aging, sickness and death; to liberty — in the sense of true liberation from our own ignorance, and the imposition of that of others upon our lives; and the pursuit of true happiness, which does not derive from materialistic sources. Perhaps our political leaders are doing their level best to secure the rights, at least in their secular manifestation. But compare to the Bodhisattva vows, which address serving, or saving all beings, on another scale altogether; two translations give us a better insight into their broader and deeper meaning: Beings are numberless I vow to free themDelusions are inexhaustible I vow to end themDharma gates are boundless I vow to enter themThe Buddha way is unsurpassable I vow to realize it However innumerable all beings are I vow to free them allHowever inexhaustible my delusions are I vow to extinguish them allHowever immeasurable the dharma teachings are I vow to master them allHowever endless the great way I vow to follow it completely 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.
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.
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.
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Continuing with our theme: the importance of independent thought and interdependent action to the future of Zen in America, we must define the design intent of our program in the current context of uncertainty. The accelerating pace of change, including geometrically expanding attractions and distractions in the secular and now digital world, gives our task a certain urgency. As we touched on last time, from Master Dogen's record of live teachings late in his career, Shobogenzo Zuimonki: Even in the secular world, it is said that unity of mind is necessary for the sake of maintaining a household or protecting a castle. If unity is lacking, the house or the castle will eventually fall. Similarly, Honest Abe declared that “A house divided against itself cannot stand.” The great unifying principle underlying Zen, then, is this “unity of mind.” But it begs the question of what precisely we mean, by “mind.” Usually our mind – the “monkey mind” anyway – is anything but unified. It may indeed be unified against all comers; or unified in its stubborn clinging to its own opinion; but it is not unified in the sense that I think Master Dogen meant. And it is not the mind characterized by dependent thinking and codependent action, as in “we are of the same mind,” or “like-minded people.” As in the past, the future of Zen comes down to the transmission of this unified mind, which cannot be transmitted directly. Transmission of the method of unifying the mind – which is one meaning implied in the Japanese word sesshin, an intensive, extended retreat – is where we can focus our attention, and plan the design intent of our process around it. In a present and future world increasingly transformed by digital technology and virtual engagement, we may need to rethink the traditional parameter of face-to-face transmission, honored as the most efficacious pedagogy in the history of Zen. However, when we can meet in a virtual room from virtually anywhere in the world, the face-to-face connection becomes one of interfacing video screens. This option was not available in the history of Zen, to belabor the obvious. Objections to an argument that this kind of transaction may suffice to transmit the Dharma include that the perceived teacher-student environment may be colored by such tinkering as phony backgrounds and visual enhancements of lighting and filters, along with stage-setting and costuming designed to play to the camera. In the context of direct Dharma transmission, these amount to additional layers of delusion heaped upon the underlying distortions of conscious perception and conception built into the monkey mind. What is missing in the virtual world is the rest of the story, what transpires behind the screen – the day-in and day-out mutual observation of behaviors and attitudes under less-than-ideal or challenging circumstances – wherein transactional exchanges of personalities and communication in the real-world dynamic of the teacher and student relationship enables “coming to accord” with the teacher's worldview, which is hopefully “Right View.” In Dogen's Jijuyu Zammai – Self-fulfilling Samadhi, he points out the importance of this relationship and its hoped-for outcome: From the first time you meet a master, without engaging in bowing, incense offering, chanting Buddha's name, repentance or reading scripture, you should just wholeheartedly sit, and thus drop away body and mind. Along with establishing the secondary supporting role of Zen's protocols, rituals, and the written record, he goes on to declare that this “dropping off” of body and mind is tantamount to Buddha's insight, and that it completely transforms your world: When even for a moment you express the Buddha's seal by sitting upright in samadhi, the whole phenomenal world becomes the Buddha's seal and the entire sky turns into enlightenment. Later in the same passage he profiles the transition that occurs when the student becomes the master: Those who receive these water-and-fire benefits spread the Buddha's guidance based on original awakening; because of this, all those who live with you and speak with you will obtain endless buddha virtue, and will unroll widely – inside and outside of the entire universe – the endless, unremitting, unthinkable, unnamable buddha-dharma. The telling phrase is “all those who live with you.” A compelling question for lay householder Zen practitioners today is, Do we need to actually “live with” a teacher, or within a residential community, in order to apprehend the true Dharma? And if so, how do we go about implementing that design intent, within the practical constraints of maintaining a household, holding down a job, and raising a family? Or do we all have to become monastics? In which case, Zen is just another program for a privileged few. Dogen's effusive celebration of awakening to the truth of Buddhism as received wisdom includes – and is implicitly dependent upon – your relationship with your teacher. In Dogen's narrative, he must be referencing his lived experience with Rujing in China. But it raises the question of exceptions to the general rule, such as the example of Shakyamuni himself, or Huineng, Sixth Patriarch in China. The case that one absolutely must have a teacher cannot be made – any more than it can be proven that one absolutely must practice zazen – in order to experience the insight of Zen. In research circles, we hear phrases such as “participant observation” to define this kind of intimate, all-embracing investigation of another person's world and approach to coping with it. The adage about walking a mile in someone else's shoes captures the difficulty of getting far enough beyond ourselves, to be able to truly understand the worldview of someone else. In the martial, plastic and performing arts and crafts, as well as trades, guilds, and other apprentice-journeyman-master modes of learning, we see parallels to that of the Zen master and student, where the craft is transmitted mainly through nonverbal observation, closely following the approach of the trainer until it becomes second-nature to the novice. But in the complex society that we encounter today, the possibility and potential payoff of living together, in order to effect a transmission of mind-to-mind seems more and more a pipe dream of a past reality that may no longer apply, and in fact may never have been the norm. Garnered from such collections as “The Transmission of the Lamp” from Song dynasty China, anecdotes from the millennia-long history of Zen begin to look like a mixed bag of long-term and short-term encounters and exchanges between masters and students, and master to master, as well as between students. The resultant impression is that handing down the Dharma from generation to generation was largely a matter of monastics living in large and small communities, but also hermits living in isolation, being visited by other monks and nuns on pilgrimage, and occasional lively set-tos with lay people, women in particular. Notable exceptions to the monastic model include influential lay practitioners such as Vimalakirti in Buddha's time, and Layman Pang and others later in China and Japan. A line in the seminal Ch'an poem Hsinhsinming says, “For the unified mind in accord with the Way, all self-centered striving ceases.” The operative phrase here might be “in accord with the Way.” The “Way” being the Tao of Taoism. Which is a catchall phrase for the natural order of things, with which we want to come into harmony. This unified mind is the Original Mind, capital O – capital M – which we rediscover in our meditation, after sitting still enough and upright enough, for long enough. So the central focus of our practice in the personal sphere has not changed, and our marching – or sitting – orders remain the same: hie thee to the cushion. With or without a teacher. Secure in the assurance that when the time is ripe, your teacher will appear. In due time, you may even find yourself in the unenviable position of being regarded as a teacher of Zen. Further on in the Shobogenzo Zuimonki, the great founding Master talks about what it takes to herd the cats: 5 — 17There is a proverb, “Unless you are deaf and dumb, you cannot become the head of a family.” In other words, if you do not listen to the slander of others and do not speak ill of others, you will succeed in your own work. Only a person like this is qualified to be the head of a family. Although this is a worldly proverb, we must apply it to our way of life as monks. How do we practice the Way without being disturbed by the slandering remarks of others, and without reacting to the resentment of others, or speaking of the right or wrong of others? Only those who thoroughly devote even their bones and marrow to the practice can do it. Thank you, Dogen, for your candor and real-world practicality. It certainly resonates with my experience. If we read between the lines, we can see that Dogen's life, and that of his monks, was apparently not always as ideally serene and transcendent as we may prefer to imagine. People are people, and were the same hot mess in 13th century Japan as they are today. Maybe even worse. In the next segment we will continue with past as prologue to present, and present as perhaps prescient for the future of Zen. Your comments and response are, as always, welcome and encouraged. You know where to find me.* * *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
Buddhism Reference – Brahman Conduct. Some translations of the Lotus Sutra continue to use this terminology to discuss the comportment of Bodhisattvas. This term shows up in the very first teachings of Shakyamuni in the Avatamsaka Sutra. E-books - “Buddhism Reference – Now Available Threefoldlotus.com/home/Ebooks.htm
TLK Lotus Sutra - part 63 – Meditation on Bodhisattva Universal Virtue. The process of self-realization is delved into as a reminder and coalescing of all Shakyamuni's teachings, crystallized in this lotus Sutra method for focused contemplation, release, and awakening. E-books – “Threefold Lotus Dharma Sutra” Threefoldlotus.com/home/Ebooks.htm
TLK Lotus Sutra - part 62 – Meditation on Bodhisattva Universal Virtue. In this closing sutra, devices reminiscent of the first of Shakyamuni's teaching of awakening, the Avatamsaka Sutra, emerge as short mental exercise to integrate the personifications of Buddhist characters into our mental cognition and experience of enlightenment. E-books – “Threefold Lotus Dharma Sutra” Threefoldlotus.com/home/Ebooks.htm
TLK Lotus Sutra - part 59 – Deeds of King Resplendent. Shakyamuni tells a tale of timelessness to recount the filial relationships of leaving the household to pursue a life dedicated to learning and propagation. And as is the form, the story reflects upon the history of comportment and single-mindedness of the present Bodhisattvas. E-books – “Threefold Lotus Dharma Sutra” Threefoldlotus.com/home/Ebooks.htm
In the last segment of UnMind, we took up the most social of the Three Treasures: Sangha, or community. In this segment, we will continue with our analysis of the design of Dharma study; and in the next, that of Buddha practice, Zen's unique meditation, or zazen. These three constitute the highest values and manifestations of Buddhism in the real world, and the simplest model for the comprehensive nature of living a Zen life. They are regarded as three legs, without any one of which the stool of Zen is unstable. Design intent is reflected in their modus operandi, message, and method, respectively. Dharma study consists in reviewing and contemplating the “compassionate teachings,” the message transmitted by Shakyamuni and the ancestors down to the present day. While they were all, in effect, “speaking with one voice,” nonetheless Dharma ranks second in importance and emphasis, as an adjunct to meditation, just as Sangha comes in third, in providing the harmonious community and conducive environment for Zen. As referenced in Dogen's Jijuyu Zammai – Self-fulfilling Samadhi: Grass, trees and walls bring forth the teaching for all beingsCommon people as well as sages The “walls” are the infrastructure that was built around personal and communal practice in the form of our sitting space at home, grass hut hermitages, and meditation halls of temples, centers, or monasteries. This is the millennia-old design-build activity of the ancestors attested to by the stupas of India and the monasteries of China, Tibet, Japan, and the Far East, the legacy inherited by modern proponents of Zen in the West. Dharma likewise has been codified, collected, and contained in tangible documents, originally in the form of rice paper scrolls, now in books distributed worldwide in hardbound and paperback format. My own two current volumes in print ‑ “The Original Frontier” and “The Razorblade of Zen” ‑ were actually printed and bound in India, the home country of Buddhism They are also, or will soon be, available in electronic form, as eBooks and audiobooks accessible to virtually anyone, anywhere, anytime. It is as if Avalokiteshvara, the Bodhisattva of Compassion – s/he of the innumerable eyes and ears needed to see and hear the sights and sounds of dukkha in the world, with innumerable arms and hands bringing the tools necessary to help ‑ has come to be manifested globally, in the form of the worldwide network of mobile media. By means of which her ongoing witness to the suffering of the world is also recorded for posterity. Thus, the potential for Dharma to have an effect on the world at large has expanded exponentially, as in the vow: “I take refuge in Dharma, the compassionate teachings.” Taking refuge in the Dharma means returning ‑ or “fleeing back” ‑ to the original truths or laws of existence, and our place in it. Consider what the first teachings of Buddha really had to say, and what was their intended effect upon the audience. The First Sermon lays out the essential logic of the Middle Way, and its avoidance of extremes of attitudes and approaches to the fundamental problem of existence as a sentient, human being. The design intent of the Dharma as expounded by Shakyamuni Buddha, was, as far as we can determine from the written record, to correct the conventional wisdom of the time, which I take to have been primarily based on beliefs and doctrines of Hinduism. One well-known example is his teaching of anatta or anatman, a refutation of the Hindu belief in a self-existent soul, or atman. Not being a scholar, I am basing this on my scant study of the canon and the opinion of others more learned than I. Considering how the Dharma was first shared gives us an insight more technically oriented to the intent of its design. In the beginning was the spoken word of Siddhartha Gautama, similar to the Bible's creation story. Buddha never committed a single word to paper, or so we are told. It is also said that he “never spoke a word,” a comment I take to mean that while language can point at the truths of Buddhism, it cannot capture them. Buddhist truth is uniquely experiential. It has to go through a kind of translation into language that is beyond language itself, as in the last stanza of Hsinhsinming‑Trust in Mind: Words! The Way is beyond language for in itthere is no yesterday, no tomorrow, no today Later given the honorifics of “Buddha, ‑ fully awakened one” and “Shakyamuni ‑ sage of the Shakya clan,” and others, ten in total, Siddhartha's First Sermon to the five ascetics with whom he had been practicing, begins with: O monks, these two extremes ought not be followed by one going forth from the household life. What are the two?There is devotion to the indulgence of self-gratificationWhich is low, common, the way of ordinary peopleUnworthy and unprofitableThere is devotion to the indulgence of self-mortificationWhich is painful unworthy and unprofitableAvoiding both these extremes the Tathagata has realized the Middle WayIt gives vision it gives knowledge and it leads to calm to insight to awakening to Nirvana The intent of the content was to dissuade these monks from continuing to follow the dictates of their method of asceticism, which Buddha had found to be ineffective, to say the least. And to hold out the hope that if they were able to relinquish their own opinions of the truth they were seeking, and the method for apprehending it, they would be able to accede to the insight that he had experienced directly in meditation, the “middle way.” “Tathagata,” by the way, is also one of the ten honorifics accorded to Buddha later in the course of his teaching career, meaning something like the “thus-come one.” It was most likely appended to this narrative when finally committed to written form, some four centuries after-the-fact. But our point is that the spoken language was the medium in which the teaching was first shared. Buddha was said to have spoken Pali, which is similar to, and perhaps a dialect of, Sanskrit. The theory I have heard explaining why they were not recorded in written form is that they were considered sacred, and writing them down would have made them vulnerable to accidental or intentional change. The oral tradition was more dependable in terms of preserving them with their original intent intact. So the “design intent” of Buddha's use of kind or loving speech was not the usual intent of language in general. It was intended to encourage others to apprehend the “Great Matter” of life-and-death in the most direct way, the only way, possible. Buddha recognized that there was no way of sharing his experience with others in the ordinary sense, so he resorted to parables and analogies, to allow his audience to see themselves in the pictures he painted, and to transcend ordinary understanding in words and phrases, or the pursuit of information, the usual application of language. The later codifying and organization of the original spoken teachings into the Tripitaka or “three baskets” was designed to allow teachers and students to study the voluminous canon in an orderly way, and to prioritize their approach to it in digestible bites. It was most likely understood that the existing literature of the time ‑ which had to be scarce, compared to today's glut of publications – was to be absorbed in concert with practicing the meditation that had led to Buddha's insight to begin with. As Master Dogen reminds: Now all ancestors and all buddhas who uphold buddha-dharma have made it the true path of enlightenment to sit upright practicing in the midst of self-fulfilling samadhiThose who attained enlightenment in India and China followed this wayIt was done so because teachers and disciples personally transmitted this excellent method as the essence of the teaching In the authentic tradition of our teaching it is said that this directly transmitted straightforward buddha- dharma is the unsurpassable of the unsurpassable The design intent of the teachings has been, from the very beginning, the direct transmission of the buddha-dharma, what Matsuoka-roshi referred to as “living Zen.” In the daily lives of monks and nuns, frequent repetition of chanting selected teachings enabled the monastics to deeply assimilate them. Master Dogen was known for connecting each and every regular daily routine with brief recitations, such as the Meal Verse, in order to bridge the gap between the sacred and the profane, the physical and the spiritual. Codification of the koan collections of Rinzai Zen ‑ some 1700 strong according to tradition, later organized into five sets by Hakuin Ekaku Zenji, the 18th Century Rinzai master ‑ represent design efforts to structure the lore and legacy of Zen's anecdotal history of exchanges between masters and students available in progressive levels of difficulty, enabling accessibility of the apparent dichotomies of Dharma. Soto Zen simplifies the approach even further by regarding zazen itself as representing the living koan, requiring nothing further to complement, or complicate, the process of insight. All the various models of buddha-dharma developed by the ancients qualify as efforts in information design ‑ visualizing images and what is called “pattern-thinking” ‑ that allow us to grasp the form of the Dharma beyond what mere words can convey. The Four Noble Truths comprise the first historical example of these descriptive models, including the prescriptive Noble Eightfold Path. Tozan's “Five Ranks” and Rinzai's “Host and Guest” come later, but have the same design intent – to help their students get beyond the limitation of the linear nature of language. My semantic models of the teachings, published in “The Razorblade of Zen,” represent more contemporary cases in point. Nowadays ‑ as testimonial evidence indicates, from one-on-one encounters in online and in-person dharma dialogs with modern students of the Way ‑ people are no longer studying buddha-dharma as they may have throughout history, when documents were rare. More often than not, they are reading more than one book at a time, in a nonlinear process I refer to as “cross-coupling”: simultaneously absorbing commentaries from one author or translator along with others; or perhaps comparing the teachings of more than one ancestor of Zen to those of a different ancestor. This may be an artifact or anomaly of the ubiquitous presence and availability of Zen material in print form, as well as the encyclopedic scope of online resources on offer today. It seems that in every category, and every language, we have at our fingertips a greater textual resource than ever conceivable in history, dwarfing the great libraries of legend. We can “google” virtually anything – no pun - with a few strokes of a keyboard. In addition, Artificial Intelligence threatens to bring together summaries and concoctions of content at the whim of any researcher; documents are readily searchable for those who wish to quantify uses of words and phrases at any point in history, teasing out trends and making judgments as to the hidden patterns in historical evolution of ideas. In this context it is difficult to ascertain the design intent of dharma as articulated today. It is not easy to discern the intent of the publish-or-perish, rush-into-print crowd, or to judge whether a given piece of contemporary writing is worth our effort and time to read. Fortunately, Zen offers a wormhole out of this literary catch-22. Zazen provides recourse to an even greater inventory of databases, built into our immediate sensorium. We can always return to upright sitting, facing the wall. This is where we will find the nonverbal answers we are seeking so feverishly, and somewhat futilely, in “words and letters” as Master Dogen reminds us in his seminal tract on meditation, Fukanzazengi: You should stop pursuing words and lettersand learn to withdraw and turn the light on yourselfwhen you do so your body and mind will naturally fall awayand your original buddha-nature will appear This stanza is sometimes interpreted as a slam on the nature of contemporaneous Rinzai practice predominant in the Japan of Dogen's time. But I think we should take a broader view of the great master's intent. He is merely cluing us in to the fact of the futility of pursuing literal, linear understanding of the Dharma in its manifestation as verbal expression. We are to turn our attention, instead, to the immediate and intimate presence of the self of body-and-mind ‑ beyond, or before, words can interfere. Here is where, and now is when, we will witness the full force of the design intent of the Dharma.* * * 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 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
TLK Lotus Sutra - part 40 – Bodhisattvas Spring Up from Beneath the Earth. Maitreya finally asks the ultimate question. And this brings Shakyamuni to the centrally foundational point of the Dharma as developed by Nichiren throughout his doctrine. E-books – “Threefold Lotus Dharma Sutra” Threefoldlotus.com/home/Ebooks.htm
TLK Lotus Sutra - part 35 – Exhortation to Maintain Conviction and Confidence. Be true to the Teachings bequeathed us by Shakyamuni. This commitment will keep us protected from all detractors and distractions. E-books – “Threefold Lotus Dharma Sutra” Threefoldlotus.com/home/Ebooks.htm
TLK Lotus Sutra - part 28 – Predictions for the Arhats. Ultimately for the entire assembly, Shakyamuni states the ever present potential in all sentient minds to attain enlightenment, the realization of Tathagata, to course (live) as Bodhisattvas with Buddha mind. E-books – “Threefold Lotus Dharma Sutra” – Artist's Proof Threefoldlotus.com/home/Ebooks.htm
TLK Lotus Sutra - part 22 – The Parable of the Herbs. Shakyamuni makes clear that his teachings have always been consistent in the One goal, however received variously by those of varied capacity. E-books – “Threefold Lotus Dharma Sutra” – Artist's Proof Threefoldlotus.com/home/Ebooks.htm
TLK Lotus Sutra - part 18 – A Parable. In closing, Shakyamuni describes the people whose behavior and self awareness is desirable to teach this Lotus Sutra method for immediate enlightenment. E-books – “Threefold Lotus Dharma Sutra” – Artist's Proof Threefoldlotus.com/home/Ebooks.htm
TLK Lotus Sutra - part 15 – A Parable. This 3rd chapter begins with the joyful acceptance of Sariputra of this universal Dharma teaching, and Shakyamuni pointing out the timeless abiding of this One Vehicle Buddha Law. E-books – “Threefold Lotus Dharma Sutra” – Artist's Proof Threefoldlotus.com/home/Ebooks.htm How to use this study resource : https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=suIQ89Nc3BU Buddhism resources : threefoldlotus.com www.lulu.com/spotlight/kwoon www.cafepress.com/gohonzon PayPal.me/sifusylvain Patreon.com/TLK instagram.com/sylvainchamberlain/
TLK Lotus Sutra - part 14 – The Hoben chapter. The close of this chapter repeats the exhortation to Sariputra of the One and only Buddha vehicle as well as an anecdote of Shakyamuni's decision to teach in stages appropriate to the capacity of those to whom he would teach. E-books – “Threefold Lotus Dharma Sutra” – Artist's Proof Threefoldlotus.com/home/Ebooks.htm
TLK Lotus Sutra - part 9 – Shakyamuni is in samadhi, while Manjushri and Maitreya explain to the assembly that the momentary glimpse the Buddha has shared for them is only a taste of what is about to be taught. E-books – “Threefold Lotus Dharma Sutra” – Artist's Proof Threefoldlotus.com/home/Ebooks.htm
Hurvitz–Lotus Sutra–part 39. Life Span of the Thus-Come-One. Shakyamuni declares that he is but an impermanent vessel for the dharma to teach ordinary beings that it exists throughout all time without ceasing. E-books – “Threefold Lotus Dharma Sutra” - TBD Threefoldlotus.com/home/Ebooks.htm
Hurvitz–Lotus Sutra–part 33. Fortitude. With the entire assembly conferred the promise of future Buddhahood, vows of commitment for propagation of this ultimate teaching of the Lotus are made to Shakyamuni and Taho Buddhas. E-books - “Buddhism Reference Volume 2” - available at Threefoldlotus.com/home/Ebooks.htm
Hurvitz–Lotus Sutra–part 32. Devadatta. Shakyamuni gives kudos to Devadatta while reminding him of what he has forgotten and then breaks the Arahant delusion of nirvana, represented by Sariputra, to demonstrate the immediate enlightenment of MyoHoRenGeKyo. E-books - “Buddhism Reference Volume 2” - available at Threefoldlotus.com/home/Ebooks.htm
Hurvitz–Lotus Sutra–part 23. Parable of the Conjured City. Closing out this chapter, Shakyamuni reminds us that we too should use expedients at times when those who seek us out for guidance feel defeated or low of confidence. E-books - “Buddhism Reference” - available at Threefoldlotus.com/home/Ebooks.htm
Buddhism Reference – Nirvana. Shakyamuni deciphers the three Nirvanas as expedient means to give those on the path a rest to replenish their commitment and resolve, to rebuild their confidence on the value of the ultimate goal of Buddhahood. E-books - “Buddhism Reference – Now Available Threefoldlotus.com/home/Ebooks.htm
Hurvitz–Lotus Sutra–part 22. Parable of the Conjured City. The emulation of Shakyamuni's teaching life is the ‘boilerplate' for full Bodhisattva path. E-books - “Buddhism Reference” - available at Threefoldlotus.com/home/Ebooks.htm
Hurvitz–Lotus Sutra–part 19. Bestowal of Prophecies. For all in the assembly who continue to have doubt, Shakyamuni assures them of their enlightenment via their committed behavior and attitude toward all sentient beings as Buddhas. E-books - “Buddhism Reference” - available at Threefoldlotus.com/home/Ebooks.htm
Hurvitz–Lotus Sutra–part 18. Medicinal Herbs. Closing out this chapter with the Sanskrit additional text, Shakyamuni once again restates the one vehicle teaching as the sole concern of his teaching life. E-books - “Buddhism Reference” - available at Threefoldlotus.com/home/Ebooks.htm
Hurvitz–Lotus Sutra–part 15. Belief and Understanding. Closing this chapter, Mahakasyapa restates in gathas the parable of their sudden realization as Shakyamuni delivers this ultimate teaching of the truth. E-books - “Buddhism Reference” - available at Threefoldlotus.com/home/Ebooks.htm
Hurvitz–Lotus Sutra–part 8. Expedient Devices. Shakyamuni defines his use of various teaching methods for the benefit of fostering aspirations in the various capacities of students, and now commits to the unexcelled path for all. E-books - “Buddhism Reference” - available at Threefoldlotus.com/home/Ebooks.htm
Buddhism Reference Volume 2 – Eagle Peak or Vulture Peak. Vulture Mountain is an actual location in Northeast India known to be a site of many sermons and retreats with Shakyamuni and his followers. E-books - “Buddhism Reference Volume 2” – TBA Threefoldlotus.com/home/Ebooks.htm
BDK – Lotus Sutra – part 48. Transcendent Powers of the Tathagata is Shakyamuni's exhortation to us for propagation throughout the world, the cosmos, and the duration of time. With this commitment to recite, copy, expound and preserve this teaching, we avail all sentient beings to the full potential of life. E-books - “Buddhism Reference” - available at Threefoldlotus.com/home/Ebooks.htm
BDK – Lotus Sutra – part 45. Benefits of the Expounder of the Dharma, in closing, Shakyamuni explains the shift in perception and the clarity of the mind as it develops Buddhaness. E-books - “Buddhism Reference” - available at Threefoldlotus.com/home/Ebooks.htm
This episode we are looking at some of the earliest temples to be built in Japan. Namely: Asukadera and Shitennoji. These have pretty good claims to be some of the earliest temples, and they are mentioned in this reign, both in relation to the Soga-Mononobe War. For photos and more, check out https://sengokudaimyo.com/podcast/episode-97 Rough Transcript Welcome to Sengoku Daimyo's Chronicles of Japan. My name is Joshua and this is episode 97: Asukadera and Shitennouji. First off, quick shout out to Craig for supporting us on Ko-Fi.com. We'll have more information on how you can help support the show at the end of the episode. To recap so far, we are still in the reign of Kashikiya Hime, aka Suiko Tennou, in the 6th and early 7th centuries—though for this episode we are going to step back a little bit as much of this has origins in the 6th century, looking at the early spread of Buddhism and the founding of some of the first permanent temple complexes—specifically Asukadera in, well, Asuka, and Shitennouji in the area of modern Ohosaka. As we've seen, Yamato was in the process of importing various things from the mainland—both material culture and immaterial things as well, including philosophy and religion. By religion, of course, we are talking about Buddhism, which we've already covered to some extent in Episodes 85 and 88, but let's go over a little bit of the history, shall we, and catch up with what has been happening since. Buddhism had likely been coming over to the archipelago since the arrival of Buddhist immigrants from Baekje and elsewhere, though their religion is not much discussed. After all, the Nihon Shoki is focused largely on the Yamato royal family and the court, and so other than groups of immigrants beings settled and possibly organized into family groups, there wasn't much call to look into their day to day practices. It is also difficult to know just how far Buddhism had penetrated into the lower ranks of society on the continent, as well. Certainly the courts had adopted Buddhism, but to what extent it was part of the daily lives of the common person, I don't know that I could say with any certainty. Still, we can imagine that there were likely those who came over to the archipelago with an extant belief in the Buddha and some inkling of the rites and other aspects of Buddhist worship. Did they set up small temples in their villages? Or convert a house into a shrine? Or did they just keep private practice and worship? We don't know, and as far as I've come across we don't seem to have any conclusive evidence via the archaeological record, either. And so we are left with the written record and what it has to say on the subject. The Nihon Shoki notes the first official mention of Buddhism in the archipelago as the arrival of a Buddhist statue from Baekje. The official record puts this in the year 552, in the reign of Amekunioshi, aka Kinmei Tennou, and credits Soga no Iname with taking and building the first temple and setting up the first temple by repurposing his own house—or at least some part of his property. Other families, however, opposed the Soga's attempts at bringing in and establishing this new religion and ultimately ended up destroying that first temple, tossing the image into the river. This whole thing repeated itself in 584, about 32 years later—Silla had given Yamato a Buddhist image in 579, and then an image of Miroku, aka Maitreya, and an image of the Buddha, aka Shakyamuni, were both found. Soga no Umako, Iname's son and successor to his role as Oho-omi, took the two images and had a temple once again built, importing specialists and setting up three nuns to attend to the appropriate rituals. Once again, the Soga's opponents, led by the powerful Mononobe family, cried foul and had the temple destroyed and the nuns stripped of their robes. There are a few things about this account that are more than a bit sus, however. First, there is mention of that first Buddha image in both the Joguki, the record of the life of Prince Shotoku Taishi, as well as a record from Gangoji Garan Engi, a record from Gangoji temple—which is to say Asukadera, one of the temples we'll be talking about, today. In those records we find a different date for the first Buddha image, with its arrival coming in 538, not 552. That would have put its arrival a year before Amekunioshi, aka Kinmei Tennou, took the throne. It is also rather interesting at just how much the two stories parallel each other, and one has to wonder if they were really two separate stories or if they were one story that got attributed to different members of the Soga family, for some reason. It is also possible that they are different stories, but with similar elements that got conflated across each other. Or it really was a matter of déjà vu, with the experience of Soga no Umako paralleling that of his father, Iname. We also cannot discount some massaging of the text. For one thing, they put it in the reign of Amekunioshi, who had a different maternal line than his previous two successors and elder half-brothers. There may have been political reasons to keep the stories as they were and, hopefully, keep the story relatively tidy. Regardless of why, the implication seems clear that by 585 there were people in Yamato with some knowledge of Buddhism, as well as the necessary artisans and craftspeople to create a continental style temple complex. In the following years, the fight between the Soga and the Mononobe escalated with the death of sovereign and the ensuing succession dispute. The Mononobe and their candidate, Prince Anahobe, were destroyed by forces in league with the Soga family. During that conflict, which we covered in Episodes 90 and 91, there was a point where both Soga no Umako and his nephew, the young Prince Umayado, each prayed to the Buddha for victory, promising to erect a temple if they succeeded. Indeed, they did succeed, and based on their vows, two temples were eventually created. The first temple is known as Asukadera, or the Temple of Asuka, although it also is known by its official name of Hokoji, and later Gangoji. Construction of Hokoji started in 588, and is attributed to Soga no Umako. The second temple is Shitennoji, or the Temple of the Four Heavenly Kings. We'll talk about them a bit more, later, but the Four Heavenly Kings are four gods, who appear to pre-date Buddhism, who were co-opted into the Buddhist pantheon as protectors of Buddhism, each one representing a cardinal direction. Shitennouji's traditional founding is given to us as 593. Both of these temples still exist, in one form or another. If you go to Asuka, today, you can find a small Asukadera on the site of the previous temple, but it is much reduced from its original form. When it was built, Asukadera would have been at the center of the political heartland of Yamato. It was the land of the Soga, but also the location of the palace of Kashikiya Hime, and it likely rivaled her palace for pride of place in Asuka. However, when the capital eventually moved away from Asuka—first to nearby Kashihara, but then across the Nara basin to Heijo-kyo, modern Nara city—the temple buildings were removed to Nara, to modern day Gankouji, though the site of Houkouji continued to be used as a small, local temple. The modern temple in Asuka does have a Buddha statue, however, that they believe to have been the original Daibutsu, or Giant Buddha, known as the Asuka Daibutsu. It changed hands many times over the centuries, but has since come back to Asuka, though a little worse for wear. Shitennouji, on the other hand, is in the heart of modern Ohosaka, in the Tennoji ward. The buildings of Shitennouji have been rebuilt numerous times, although supposedly by the same construction company, one of the oldest businesses in the world, and they remain in their original configuration. Since they've been rebuilt, however, this is why you will often hear of another temple, Horyuji, also associated with Prince Shotoku Taishi, as being the oldest temple in Japan, as it has the oldest extant buildings. Make no mistake, however—Asukadera and Shitennouji were founded first, and both still survive in some manner. These two temples do a lot to help us better understand Buddhism and its influence, but also helps us understand more than that. They help us look into the politics of the time, and even illuminate some of the apparent tensions between different immigrant groups from Baekje and Silla that were becoming more and more prominent in Yamato. Of the various early temples that were built, Asukadera is perhaps one of the most well-documented, both in the historic record as well as the archaeological evidence. Donald McCallum, in his book, “The Four Great Temples”, notes that serious study of Asukadera began around the Meiji and into the Taisho era, in particular calling out the work of Fukuyama Toshio, published in 1934. Up to that point, it was mostly looking at the histories—both the Nihon Shoki and also works like the Gangouji Engi, the record of Gangouji, the later name for Asukadera. He determined that much of the record, though it claimed to have been written by Shotoku Taishi himself, was actually written later than the Nihon Shoki, based on linguistic analysis. However, there were some sections that appear to be earlier or contemporaneous with the Nihon Shoki, likely pulled from other works, which the Nihon Shoki may have been pulling from as well, including inscriptions on the extant temple buildings at the time. This was determined by things like the grammar and Sinitic characters used, as well as the lack of terms like “Tennou”, which still were not in use until later periods. It is also interesting to note that Shotoku Taishi is referred to in the document by the name “Prince Umayado no Toyotomimi” Based on that analysis, it seems fairly certain that Soga no Umako was, indeed, largely responsible for donations to build Asukadera, although the Nihon Shoki gives credit to Kashikiya Hime as well. That and certain other features of the Nihon Shoki account were probably added later, possibly at the urging of the Gangouji priests themselves, to stress a stronger connection with the Yamato royal family rather than just Soga no Umako. The text gives a brief history of Buddhism, which is where we see Buddhism being introduced as early as 538, though it seems to suggest this was still in the reign of Amekunioshi, aka Kinmei Tennou, rather than his predecessors. Soga no Iname is still given much of the credit, though there is a note about Kashikiya Hime also installing a Buddhist icon in her own quarters at one point—something not mentioned in the Nihon Shoki. It does mention the various pro- and anti-Buddhist arguments and steps that the various sides took, including Umako having three nuns ordained and them being eventually defrocked—though without mention of them being whipped, which may have been too much or could be sensationalist additions to the Nihon Shoki text. One thing that is notably missing in the Gangouji Engi, at least as McCallum summarizes it, is mention of the Mononobe and Soga conflict, and so there is no mention of any special vow that was made to build Asukadera if they were victorious—let alone anything about the vow to build Shitennouji. Instead, it is instigated by the three nuns, who request both a nunnery and a monastery, each with at least 10 ordained nuns or priests, as that was the number required for many of the rites and to ensure proper ordination could take place in the future, thus allowing them to grow the religion. These two temples would need to be close enough so that they could each hear the bells from the other. Although priests were requested from Baekje, too few came over in response, which is why the nuns themselves were sent over to get a proper ordination. They return in 590 and urge the completion of the two temples—Asukadera and Toyouradera, the latter using the land that was previously Kashikiya Hime's palace prior to her moving to the Oharida palace site, nearby. All of that was based on the extant texts, but there were also archaeological excavations that took place in 1956 to 1957, as well as later investigations in and around Asuka Temple and the general area. Even today, excavations in the regions are ongoing, and in a recent visit I saw them excavating nearby palace ruins. Fortunately, the area has not seen the kind of heavy urban development, whether in the modern or pre-modern period, that many other areas have gone through, with much of the land having been returned to farmland, and the importance of the area, today, is well understood. The initial excavations were a bit surprising. Based on extant temples such as Shitennoji, it was expected that Asukadera would have been planned out in such a way that there was a straight line from the central gate, to the pagoda and the kondou, or golden hall, sometimes called an image hall, with the koudou, or lecture hall, in back. Often there is some separation of the lecture hall from the other two. These buildings are both connected and separated by gates, walls, and pathways, including covered cloisters along the wall, which conforms to the pattern of temples on the Korean peninsula as well. This is very reminiscent of the Baekje layout for temples, and may include other elements such as belfries or similar. The three main buildings each serve a purpose. As we noted back in Episode 84, the Pagoda had replaced the Stupa, and was often a reliquary, holding relics of some kind. Then there is the Kondou—literally golden halls, as many of the statues and other artwork would be gilded and designed to reflect light, often shining out from the darkness with the goal of leading more people to consider enlightenment. These are the halls where images are placed—hence the other term, “image hall”—whether metal, wood, stone, et cetera. The pagoda and the kondou may be areas of personal worship, with believers coming to visit them, perhaps to venerate a particular aspect of the Buddha or contemplate something, and images or particular relics are often ascribed particular spiritual power. Often these are included together or near one another. On the other hand the koudou, or Lecture Hall, also known as the Ordination Hall, would be the place for sermons and various ceremonies. In many ways these are the “working” areas of a temple, and while they often have images and are ornately adorned, they have, in some ways, a more utilitarian function, and in many early temple layouts they are often held apart from the pagoda and kondou in some way. At Asukadera, the excavations revealed that it was not planned out in the standard three building model, all lined up, as had been expected. Instead, there was a walled courtyard, with cloisters around the sides and a central gate that led to a pagoda in the middle of the area. Then there were three buildings, identified as individual kondou, or image halls, spaced equally to the left, right, and behind the pagoda. A larger building was then found behind the walled courtyard area, determined to be the temple's lecture hall. All of this was enclosed in another wall, which seems to have defined the larger area of the temple. This layout is fairly unique. It doesn't exactly fit anything we've seen in Baekje or Silla temples of the period, and most closely resembles something out of Goguryeo. It may be worth noting that there are records that claim the King of Goguryeo provided funds to help build temples in Japan, and that some of the monks involved, including the monk Eben, or Hyephyeon, who helped initially ordain the Zenshin and her fellow nuns, was said to be a man from Goguryeo, and so may have had some influence on the design. On the other hand, the rooftiles found at the Asukadera site are very much in the Baekje tradition. Up to this point, there is no indication that the Japanese were using rooftiles in their construction, and were likely using thatching, much as many Shinto shrines continue to use to this day. The use of rooftiles is thought to have started with Buddhist temples, and occurred much earlier than their use in other buildings, including palace buildings. Since rooftiles were ceramic, they required different construction techniques so that the roof could support the weight, which would further explain the need to import craftsmen from the continent to help build these structures. Rooftiles are not necessarily the most exciting thing for people wandering through a museum. Often one is looking at weapons, jewelry, or haniwa statues, and suddenly you come across a plethora of tiles from different buildings, and it can be easy to just glance past. Without understanding what you are looking at, the rooftiles often seem the same—or same-ish. The majority of the tiles are plain, without much distinction. End tiles—whether round or flat—often have similar decorations, such as lotus flowers, and they are often very similar to one another. Furthermore, these are rarely refined works of art—tiles were meant to be mass produced and were often created quickly to meet the demands of construction. Despite all of this, I think it is worth recognizing that the rooftiles are often important to helping archaeologists, especially when the rest of the building is no longer extant. Rooftiles often would fall off and get buried, or even be reused in some way to edge a gutter or something similar. However, how they are made, the molds that were used, the composition of the clay, etc. can all be analyzed to provide information about the age and size of a structure, helping to know when different buildings may have been built or rebuilt, as well as providing some information on where the materials were coming from. And for those who want to learn more, you can be sure that every part of a tile has its own specialized name and vocabulary—it is something that you can really delve deep into if that is your thing. The rooftiles at Asukadera are somewhat odd in that they are not as uniform as one might expect, and this may come from the fact that they had imported different tile makers from Baekje, and so each one set up their workshop with slightly different standards. Later, as Yamato as more temples and other continental style buildings were built, these would become larger, more standardized industries. Still, that they seem to conform to the general patterns found in Baekje speaks, again, to the location that the craftsmen were likely from, as well as the connections mentioned in the texts. And so we see at least Baekje and possibly Goguryeo influence on the design of this temple. One other thing that has been found is the stone pedestal for an image in the central image hall. We know that at some point a large image was crafted, and the Asuka Daibutsu, or Giant Buddha Image of Asuka, is still extant, and the stone pedestal was likely where it or a similar image sat at some point. However, just when this image was created and installed is still unknown—there are references to various images, but nothing that can be directly attributed to the current Asuka Daibutsu, though various scholars have identified it as being consistent with the Asuka style from at least the 7th century. The earliest information talks about the stone Miroku, or Maitreya, image that Kafuka no Omi brought back. It was probably not that large, and it seems that it was eventually enshrined at Asukadera in some form. There are mentions of various icons made in the early 7th century as well, which could refer to this. It is said that it was made in 609 by Kuratsukuri no Tori, though that is not without controversy. It was damaged in a fire in 1196, which was originally thought to have destroyed everything. Indeed, an examination of the image has shown that it appears to have been reconstructed, though there is some evidence that the face and right hand are likely original, while the rest of the body was refashioned, probably from the burnt and melted pieces that were damaged in the fire. It still sits in the Angoin at the modern site of Asukadera, for anyone who wants to come and see it. Taken together, this can give us some idea of what it took to build the temple. Previous so-called temples appear to be conversions of local buildings, with perhaps some work on building a proper pagoda, but at Asukadera they went full-out to build according to the continental standards. That said, there has been a significant amount of ink spilled over just how this process went. Based on the Nihon Shoki, it would almost appear that everything arrived, fully formed, at the end of 588. As I've noted previously, the way that the Nihon Shoki records read it can sometimes be difficult to figure out exactly what happened when, as a single entry will often contain details that must have happened before or after the date of the entry itself, and it isn't entirely clear exactly what happened on the referenced date, in many cases. Furthermore, since the Chroniclers were pulling from other sources, there is always the possibility that they, themselves, misinterpreted something. Finally, I would note that their primary goal was to give readers and idea of what happened that conformed with what was known as true and what supported the state institutions. Would it have mattered to them exactly when Asukadera was built, as long as it was generally right and in the regards to the appropriate sovereign and nobles? Probably not. It likely would have taken some time to pull everything together. There would have been planning sessions, and drawings. They would have to harvest the right kind of wood and shape it based on the designs, and an entire industry of tile-making would have to be set up, likely with local hands learning the process. Similarly, woodcarvers would have already existed, but they would likely need to learn new techniques to account for the continental design. And then there were the various rituals that would need to be carried out. This is all in addition to any stonework, special metalwork, or other such things that had not been previously done in the archipelago. On top of that, there would have been issues of translation, with immigrant artisans directing their various groups of craftsmen. It is possible that work for planning the temple began as early as 588—which may have just been the request for more craftsmen—and then in 596, when we have textual evidence that some part of the temple was “finished”, that may have been nothing more than the pagoda by that time. It is then unclear whether the other buildings were finished together or in separate phases—perhaps the central image hall was finished, and then the two on the sides of the pagoda were added at a later date. Images may have also been shifted around as new images, like the Asuka Daibutsu, were completed. Many scholars have argued for different interpretations based on their readings of the texts, but none of the evidence is so clear as to be incontrovertible. What is clear is that this was a grand temple, and that would have been equally clear to everyone who viewed it. Furthermore, this temple was connected directly to Soga no Umako and the Soga family. Something to consider: Just as the giant tomb mounds helped demonstrate the power of various clans based on the work and resources that went into them, a temple like Asukadera would have provided similar cache for the Soga family. This is more than just religious devotion, it was a political statement, made in the heart of the region that Kashikiya Hime was ruling from. Visitors to her palace—not to mention later palaces in the area—would have hardly been able to miss the pagoda and the tiled rooves, and locals would have likely heard the toll of the bell, assuming that both they and Toyouradera had them as the sources mention. Speaking of Toyouradera, I have less information on that compound, but it seems to have been built sometime later. Kashikiya Hime moved to the new Woharida palace around 603, which would have freed the Toyoura palace buildings to be used for the nunnery. While there is evidence of a pagoda being built, I suspect that it originally reused the old palace buildings, repurposing them, and then would have been built out as time allowed. There is still a temple in Toyoura, and some remains that have been examined, but I am not aware of anything as extensive as the work on Asukadera. In comparison—and perhaps contrast—to Asukadera is the other temple of this episode: Shitennouji, the temple of the Four Heavenly Kings. Now while many later texts certainly involved both Kashikiya Hime and Prince Umayado in the building of Asukadera, it is clear that Soga no Umako played a leading role—and was probably the primary patron for that temple. In contrast, Shitennouji is directly associated with none other than Prince Shotoku Taishi. It claims to have been founded in 593, based on the account of the Nihon Shoki, and it is said to have been commissioned by Crown Prince Shotoku, aka Prince Umayado, in response to the Four Heavenly Kings' intervention in the Soga-Mononobe war. To put some of this in perspective: Prince Umayado is said to have been born in 574, and he would have been a teenager during the Soga-Mononobe war, and would have been about 20 years old or so in 593. Granted, this is Shotoku Taishi we are talking about, and all of the history about him claims that he was quite precocious. It is said that when he was born, his hands were clasped together. Two years later, he opened his hands and it was revealed that he had been born holding a relic of the Buddha, which was later enshrined at the temple of Houryuji. Speaking of Houryuuji, I'm sure we'll spend more time on it in a future episode, but here's what you probably should know for context. Houryuuji was built on the site of Prince Umayado's Ikaruga palace, and is also said to have been directly patronized by Umayado, aka Shotoku Taishi. Furthermore, it has the oldest extant wooden buildings in the world, let alone in Japan. And yet, the Shitenouji temple appears to get more air time in the Chronicles, which may be a factor of several different things, but primarily indicating that Shitenouji and its patrons were ascendant at court at the time that everything was being written down, whereas it appears that Houryuuji may have been rebuilding after a fire, and therefore was not as prominent as it would later be. Either way, I encourage people to visit both to get a better idea of this period. There is less textual evidence—or perhaps there has simply been less scrutiny—for the founding of Shitenouji, and its position is hardly central to the Yamato court. Nonetheless, it is in a place of prominence, as it was near Naniwa, the port to the Seto Inland Sea and beyond. This was also an area that had a high number of immigrants from the mainland, which I'll be returning to in a bit. As I mentioned earlier in this episode, Shitenouji follows what we might consider a more traditional design. Entering through the central gate, one comes upon the five storied pagoda, behind which stands the kondou, or image hall. All of this is surrounded by a cloistered wall, which encircles both until you get to the north end, where the wall terminates at the koudou, or lecture hall. The buildings are brightly painted and decorated in red, green, and white—colors that would have likely adorned Asukadera's posts as well, and which we see in many later temples and images. In fact, the image of a Buddhist temple as brown and plain comes later, likely originating with just the ravages of time and the lack of funding to keep up with the paint, which was originally said to help preserve the wood and prevent damage from insects. Eventually, some sects would come to prefer the more subdued image brought about by natural wood, creating a new aesthetic that continues to be popular. Today you can find a variety of different temple buildings from different eras, some of which maintain the bright colors that would have likely been part of any early temple. There have been some excavations around Shitenouji, which appear to confirm that the shape has remained roughly the same over the centuries, from what I can tell. The buildings themselves have been rebuilt over the years, but maintain a certain characteristic that seems appropriate to the early temple period. This may be due to the fact that the temple has retained the services of a family of temple builders that continue to operate as a business, even today. Kongou Gumi claims that it was founded in 578, when craftsmen were brought from Baekje to help build temples in Japan, making it the oldest company in the world, though it is now a subsidiary company of the Takamatsu Construction Group. They continue to specialize in traditional temple, shrine, and castle construction, preserving ancient techniques, but also employing modern materials, such as concrete and rebar, where appropriate. While they were specific to Shitennouji, they were not exclusive, and in the 16th century they helped rebuild Osaka castle. They have repeatedly rebuilt Shitennouji and maintained it through the years, even after it has, at times, been completely destroyed by fire or even typhoon. The story of Shitennouji's founding we talked about in the episode on the Soga-Mononobe War, but to quickly recount: The young Shotoku Taishi crafted figures of the four Heavenly kings and prayed for a Soga victory, promising to build a temple if they won. The Soga did win, and so he followed through by building this temple, using land taken from the Mononobe during the war. So who were the Four Heavenly Kings? Why didn't he just pray to the Buddha? The Four Heavenly Kings are gods from India that were transmitted along with Buddhism as Buddhist Deities. They are: Vaisravana, aka Tamonten, in the north Virudhaka, aka Zouchouten, in the south Dhrtarastra, aka Jikokuten, in the east And Virupaksa, aka Koumokuten, the west. In general, if you are at a Japanese temple, and you see the name end with “Ten” it may be referring to one of the various Heavenly Kings. The four heavenly kings are devas, and included as four of the 20 or 24 devas who manifest to protect the Dharma. Given their role in protecting the various cardinal directions, they became popular in East Asian Buddhism, and show up in various Mahayana texts, but they also appear in Theravada traditions as well. It is unclear exactly when and how they became associated with Buddhism, though it wasn't uncommon for Buddhism to co-opt various gods and deities and turn them into aspects of the Buddha, Boddhisatvas, or, as in this case, protectors of Buddhism. We see similar things happen in the archipelago as various kami are, on occasion, given Buddhist aspects and accepted as defenders of Buddhism. It appears that they have a particular place in the Konkoumyou Sutra, or Sutra of Golden Light, which is where they appear to have entered East Asian Buddhism. This sutra may have been translated as early as the 5th century, though the Nihon Shoki uses quotes that appear to come from a translation likely made around the 7th or 8th century, which was likely popular at the time that the Nihon Shoki was being compiled. Not only that, but later in the 8th century, various Kokubunji, or provincial temples, would be set up under state sponsorship, in part to create spiritual protection for the realm, and these were specifically set up as temples of the Four Heavenly Kings. So we can see that belief in the efficacy of the Four Heavenly Kings was important around the time that the Chronicles were being compiled. In addition, Shitennouji is heavily influenced by what some call the “Cult” of “Shotoku Taishi”. Again, by the time that the Nihon Shoki was being compiled, Prince Umayado had already been lifted up on a pedestal and turned into something more than just a Prince—however influential he may have been. He became known as the Father of Buddhism, and the Father of the Nation, having also played a part—we are told—in the creation of the first ever 17 article constitution. He was a Soga relative but he was not, importantly, a member of the direct Soga line, which would land on hard times just a few generations later and be on the political outs. Michael Como, in his book on Shotoku Taishi, also points out that Shitennouji was associated with the Abe family and with various lineages with ties specifically to Silla, including groups like the Hata—although the layout of the temple still accords with Baekje temple design, as far as I can tell. Still, by the 8th century in particular, Shitennouji and similar temples claiming sponsorship or connections to Shotoku Taishi appear to have had connections with lineages descending from or with connections to Silla. Spoiler alert: Silla would eventually take over the entire Korean Peninsula, and therefore, by the 8th century, there were no new “Baekje” or “Goguryeo” immigrants—anyone coming over was from Silla. And Michael Como points out that there seems to have been a bit of a political rift and distinction between Silla descended lineage groups and Baekje descended lineage groups. Asukadera and the Soga family—and even Shotoku Taishi's temple of Houryuuji—appear to have been firmly attached to the Baekje lineages, whom they had sponsored to come over to help them promote Buddhism, but by the 8th century, Silla-backed groups were more dominant. He points to a “split” in the Shotoku Taishi worship, with the Silla-backed temples dominating the narrative in the 8th century and beyond. This may also play into the story of the founding of Shitennouji, as there is a similar story in the Samguk Yusa, as Como points out. In it, the King prays to the Heavenly Kings for victory against the Tang, and that same King is said to have built the Sacheonwang Temple in the Silla capital of Gyeongju. This temple would become a model for later temples in Silla, and introduced a layout with two pagodas, rather than one. We see this pattern arrive in the archipelago, influencing temples like Yakushiji, in modern Nara. Unfortunately, this all seems to just muddy the waters. I think we can probably say that the founding of Shitennouji by a young Shotoku Taishi, while possible, seems a bit sus. Sure, I guess they could have built a temple on the land taken from the Mononobe—it would have been quite the statement given that the Mononobe had been so anti-Buddhism, at least according to the textual records. But was it originally dedicated to the Four Heavenly Kings? Or did that part come later, as the texts on the Four Heavenly Kings grew more popular? I suspect that the temple, which seems laid out in the standard Baekje style, was no doubt one of the early temples, and it may even have been built on Mononobe property. But the association with Shitennouji—and the legend of Shotoku Taishi—probably came later. It was in a great position, however, to gain patronage from newly arrived immigrants, as the port of Naniwa would have been one of the more cosmopolitan locations, and after the downfall of Baekje and Goguryeo, most of those people crossing the sea would have identified with Silla. Regardless of the legends behind it, Shitennouji does appear to have a claim to be one of the oldest temples in Japan, and shortly after it was built—or at least they started work on the temple—we are told that Kashikiya Hime told Shotoku Taishi to aggressively promote Buddhism, which seems to have kicked off a temple-building fad. No doubt the prestige that came from being connected with a temple like Asukadera or Shitennouji had some small part to play in that. Temples would become another source of spiritual, and thus political, power, for various kinship groups, much as shrines and kofun were as well. In fact, the temple building craze is often seen as the beginning of the end of the Kofun period. All of the money and resources that were poured into temple building—whether as private projects or as state sponsored projects—would put a huge drain on the labor pool for things like monumental tombs. In addition, as Buddhist theology took hold, a dedicatory temple was, in many ways, more useful, as it could be a way of building merit for the dead, as opposed to simply building giant tomb mounds. That doesn't mean it ended immediately, but as I've mentioned before we start to see the tomb sizes shrink. Nothing would rival the middle kofun era building projects, and there would be a greater focus on building things like temples. I also suspect that this new style of construction may have had other knock on effects as well. Grand buildings such as those built for temples, and later palaces, were not quite so easy to dismantle and reassemble elsewhere. These were major construction projects and the materials were now heavier, especially those tiled roofs. Not that it was “easy” to just build a palace in the older style, but it was clearly something that could be done quickly if necessary, as shown with the construction of various temporary buildings for envoys and the like—or even the decision to move to a new palace part way through a reign. These new buildings weren't the same, and we can see how, when Asukadera was moved up to Nara—where it is known as Gankouji—they clearly left many of the buildings and materials behind and likely built new buildings in the new capital. Giant images would also have been difficult to transport, and probably easier to just commission a new one. Had Asukadera, aka Houkouji, not burned down and been generally neglected by the court, which by then had moved on to Heian-kyo, then perhaps it would have retained some of the buildings, as Houryuuji, did. Unfortunately, it did burn down, and so today is only a shadow of what it once was—though still worth a visit, in my opinion. And that's where we'll wrap things up for now. Until next time, then, thank you for listening and for all of your support. If you like what we are doing, tell your friends and feel free to rate us wherever you listen to podcasts. If you feel the need to do more, and want to help us keep this going, we have information about how you can donate on Patreon or through our KoFi site, ko-fi.com/sengokudaimyo, or find the links over at our main website, SengokuDaimyo.com/Podcast, where we will have some more discussion on topics from this episode. Also, feel free to Tweet at us at @SengokuPodcast, or reach out to our Sengoku Daimyo Facebook page. You can also email us at the.sengoku.daimyo@gmail.com. And that's all for now. Thank you again, and I'll see you next episode on Sengoku Daimyo's Chronicles of Japan.
To elicit the bigger picture of the place of Zen and zazen in our world of practice, I would like to refer you to a couple of semantic models illustrating the interrelationships, or operative interfaces, of the various components of the Four Noble Truths, along with the dimensions of the Noble Eightfold Path that we all encounter on a daily basis, both on the cushion and off. Turning to Buddhism's Four Noble Truths, we see that they can be modeled as a system, the simplest geometry for which is the four-pointed tetrahedron (a “system” here defined as anything exhibiting an inside and an outside). The model shows their interconnectedness, from one to two to three to four, from two to three and four, et cetera. There are six relationships of the four points, to each other. How does the existence of suffering relate to its origin, craving? And so on and on. Go to the UnMind webpage to see my diagram of the Four Noble Truths as a four-pointed tetrahedron. The link to the page is in the show notes for this episode. The four are usually presented in a linear layout in text, beginning with the first Noble Truth of the Existence of suffering (dukkha), followed by its Origin; its Cessation; finally the Noble Eightfold Path, which leads to the cessation of suffering in daily life.First, we must challenge the appropriateness of the word “suffering” to translate the meaning of the Sanskrit word, “dukkha.” Unfortunately, suffering is fraught with narrow connotations of human pain, not only physical, but emotional, mental, and even existential in nature. But I do not believe that this is the intended meaning of the original term. Buddha was expounding a universal principle — that of unrelenting, inexorable change — which we naturally interpret from the perspective of our personal angst, as “suffering.” The Noble Eightfold Path extends this description of reality into a prescription for practice in daily life. Visit the webpage in the show notes to see the diagram illustrating the interconnectedness and interdependence of the elements in the Eightfold Path. A common example: “you talk the talk but you do not walk the walk”; a functional disconnect between right speech and right action.As you reflect upon the Noble Eightfold Path, consider how the interdependence of the eight dimensions reinforce each other: How does Right View influence Right Thought, or Right Speech? Where does Right Action connect with Right Livelihood and Right Effort? Is Right Mindfulness dependent upon Right Effort, and does it then lead to Right Meditation, or is it the other way around? Zen tradition claims to transmit the “right meditation” practiced by Shakyamuni, the historical Buddha and progenitor of Buddhism. But we recognize the absolute relevance and modernity of his message, privileging the simplified approach of Zen. Note that the eight dimensions are numbered in reverse order: “right view,” number one, being more a result than a starting point; right meditation, number eight, is where we must begin. As mentioned in UnMind number 131, “The Noble N-Fold Path”, the traditional division of Buddhism's Noble Eightfold Path may have to be updated to reflect the complexity of living in modern times. Nowadays we might want to add more dimensions to the original eight prescribed for practice in a simpler time. Perhaps today we would end up with a Noble Thirty-Two-fold Path as the last of the Sixteen Noble Truths. In Un Mind number 131, I mused upon the notion of adding “right balance” to the mix, what with the geometrically expanded choices we face in pursuing right speech, action and livelihood, and the challenges of living a Zen life in the midst of over-choice: the temptations and distractions pulling on us from all directions while we navigate the tightrope and keep all the balls in the air. We hope that we can “have it all,” especially compared to our ancestors in Zen, but “living large” exacts a steep price. To cite just a few of the dimensions of our modern milieu, distinctions with a tangible difference from ancient times, challenging our sense of balance today:TRAVEL: Buddha's “ecological sweepout,” to borrow a Bucky Fullerism, was limited to the radius he could reach on foot, by donkey or elephant, though there were likely significant incoming influences from the Silk Road and other trade routes. One of our senior priests made the point that for the first time in history, every individual on the planet is potentially only one plane ride away from every other person. This has all kinds of implications, some positive, some not so much, such as the boost it gives to viral vectors spreading disease globally with blinding speed.TECHNOLOGY: The interconnectivity of masses of people around the world, with advances in applications that provide automatic translation of languages, live video and audio recording and reporting of events on an unprecedented scale and scope of detail and timeliness, is a double-edged sword, a tool that can be used for good or ill, depending on the intent of senders and receivers of the message. The old-school formulas - that “The Medium is the Message”; communication is not the message sent, but the message received - no longer hold in a world of technology that allows anyone to put any words they wish in the mouths of anyone they want. It is impossible to catch up with even the jargon that attempts to keep up with scams popping up like weeds in the garden. From a Buddhist perspective, the upside is that world-around digital media have established a technical analogy to Avalokiteshvara, who “sees and hears the suffering of the world,” and comes to help, in her mission as the Bodhisattva of Compassion. One can hope. EDUCATION: In Buddha's time, and for the vast majority of the development of human civilization, choices in education were severely limited, primarily to learning the trade or craft of one's ancestral family. Compare to today's nearly unlimited potential for social mobility, promising transcendence of the caste or class system, implicit or explicit, into which we are born. One current downside is the emergence of massive student loan debt, a significant burden for those who have elected to finance higher degrees, which do not guarantee a successful career with the ability to pay off that debt.CORPORATIZATION: An awkward word to label an awkward development. Another significant difference in our world and that of the Buddha is the predominance of the corporate entity, which I suppose first reared its ugly head with the formation of the city-states of Greece, and reached its apogee in the Citizens United decision of SCOTUS. Not that corporations are necessarily bad; there are some that are dedicated to doing good, such as NFP 501c3s incorporated for various charitable missions. But the human beings populating the corporate entities, as members of the board and other controlling positions, are still human, and can do more harm with the collective power and reach of the corporation, than they might be able to do individually. I could go on. For example, with the current spate of international wars, widespread drug addiction, and the senseless gun violence that have become our new, dystopian “normal,” were certainly not the norm 2500 years ago. But suffice it to say that Buddha did not have to cope with this scale and scope of the onslaught of global insanity, though the self-striving nature of humanity underlying the chaos has not fundamentally changed since his times. We would likely find it unlikely to find an apt analogy to Dogen's time, let alone Buddha's. When we comprehend the Four Noble Truths as mutually interacting, but constrained within the limits of the context of early Indian subculture, we can update them to the 21st century by constructing our own menu of actionable items based on today's realities. You could, with some imagination, build your own personal set of Noble Truths, four or more, and suss out the vectors of a modern Path that transcend those outlined by the Buddha. He would appreciate your efforts, I am sure.Let me encourage you to engage in such a creative exercise between now and when we meet again. Contemplate what the “existence of suffering” means to you, how you are to “fully understand it”; what attitude adjustments and actionable items on your particular path may be undertaken to transform that suffering into the right view of wisdom. Remember to consider the relationships between the various path factors that you identify, rather than treat each in isolation. In the next segment, I will attempt to expand the context even further, into those surrounding spheres of influence on our daily lives, as well as on our contemporary practice of Zen, well beyond the personal and social, to include the natural and the universal. Buckle 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 next two segments: number 132 and 133 in the sequence, we repeat a subject that we took up in number 113 and 114; namely the buddha nature versus human nature; some of the sameness and differences between what we refer to as “human nature” and what we refer to in Zen as our “original nature,” or “buddha-nature,” “buddha” meaning “awakened one.” Please bear with the repetition; there is new material here as well. And much of what is to be said about the place of Zen in America bears repetition. As promised in the last segment of UnMind, we will continue examining the social, or “corporate” expressions of human nature — versus what we call “buddha nature” — with an eye to those corporate entities growing out of Zen practice, such as the Atlanta Soto Zen Center and the Silent Thunder Order, as examples. Master Dogen mentions the constructions of humankind, indicating that they, too, are part and parcel of the nature and manifestation of buddha-dharma: Grass, trees, and lands which are embraced by this Teachingtogether radiate a great light and endlessly expoundthe inconceivable profound dharmaGrass, trees, and walls bring forth this Teaching for all beingscommon people as well as sagesand they in accord extend this dharmafor the sake of grass, trees, and walls In India the original Order of monks and nuns apparently camped out in the woods, and when the monsoons came, retired to caves in the mountains. Eventually, patrons built dwellings for them, the first “walls” to house the followers of Buddha's teachings. Somewhere I came across a saying, something to the effect that, when a precious jewel appears in the world, not to worry, a container will appear to protect it. The “precious jewel” is the buddha-dharma, and the container consists of the various temples, practice centers, and monasteries that have been established to protect and preserve it. The Dharma opening verse that we typically chant at the beginning of a discourse says: The unsurpassed, profound and wondrous Dharma is rarely met withEven in a hundred, thousand, million kalpasNow we can see and hear it, accept and maintain itMay we unfold the meaning of the Tathagata's truth Assuming we can “see and hear” the Dharma, it becomes our charge to “accept and maintain” it. In the context of modern society, this means not only providing the physical plant, the “walls” within which followers are invited to practice, but also providing the corporate structure that will enable others to maintain the program of promulgating Dharma teachings and propagating the direct practice of meditation, through their financial and in-kind donations. For this reason, and other related incentives, it becomes necessary to establish a 501c3 not-for-profit corporation in order to maintain Zen practice interfacing with other, governmental corporate entities. But some caveats are in order when doing so in the furtherance of Zen, in light of its skepticism regarding the constructed self. Where Zen calls into question the reification of even the human entity, or being, and its extension to the concept of a self, the soul of theism, or atman of Hinduism; the reification of a corporate entity is seen as equally, or even more, suspect. ASZC was incorporated in 1977 to facilitate the mission of meeting the public demand for what we refer to as genuine Zen practice, in particular its uniquely simple and direct meditation. What we refer to as “Soto Zen” or “Dogen Zen” is different from all the other alternatives on offer. Just as what Buddhism teaches as its worldview is starkly different from the various religions and ideologies dominant in our culture. STO was incorporated in 2011 because the stress and strain on the board of directors and committees of the ASZC had become too much to handle, with the growth of our network of affiliates, which were meeting the increasing demand for Zen practice; and the growing awareness of ASZC and STO as meeting that demand in a uniquely user-friendly manner, stressing the practicality and best practices of householder Zen. BUT We should not be confused as to the reality or unreality of the corporate entities we have “established.” They are no more real than any other corporate entity, though we may feel that their existence as such is much more necessary and based on real human need. The human beings, or sangha, populating the corporate shell are real and existent dharmas, in its connotation of “dharma-beings.” The corporation is real enough, in that it can interact with other corporate entities, but is essentially a real but non-existent dharma being, a construct. In spite of the “Citizens United” ruling of the Supreme Court, corporations are demonstrably not persons and should not have the “rights” accorded to human beings, in my humble opinion. All beings are capable of doing harm; corporate entities may survive their human components and thus become capable of extending the harm, or good, they do to future generations. Real persons, fortunately or unfortunately — your call — pass away eventually, but the harm they do often lives after them; thank you, Marc Antony. Sometimes through the corporations they formed during their lifetime. There is a rather useful trope to apply to your personal relationship to the corporate entity that represents the community of fellow practitioners of Zen. These are some issues that have come up from time to time, phrased in the format of “IF-THEN”: IF you find yourself obsessing over the wellbeing of the ASZC or STO, or your local affiliate center, including the management and succession of their leadership, THEN you may be getting distracted from your own, personal practice, which may be much more difficult to deal with, and less gratifying than engaging the social fray. IF you feel under-appreciated for your efforts on behalf of the organization, THEN a couple of reminders: One — welcome to the club. Two — remember that we support the organizations because they support the practice of Zen. And in Zen there is “no self, and no other-than-self.” Our actions are neither entirely selfish, nor entirely unselfish, when it comes to Zen. Or you could argue that they are both selfish and unselfish. IF you are engaging in certain activities, and feel that you are making sacrifices, for the sake of someone else in the sangha, including myself, THEN, please stop. A sense of emotional indebtedness will only grow, and can never be recompensed adequately. As Master Dogen reminds us, we should not imagine that we are practicing Zen solely for our own sake, let alone for the sake of others. We should practice Zen for the sake of Buddhism itself. The 13th Century Master cautioned his followers not to call it “Zen,” that Zen is a made-up term. It is only Buddhism, he said. But even his nomenclature reifies “Buddhism,” as if there actually is such a thing that needs our protection. Buddhism, like Zen, is also a made-up term. Shakyamuni was not a Buddhist, any more than Jesus Christ was a Christian. Buddha comes from a root word that means “awake.” Buddha means the “fully awakened one.” What he taught, and what his followers practiced — in a culture replete with Hinduism, where one imagines they encountered considerable resistance — came to be called Buddhism. As such, it is also subject to its own teachings of “impermanence, insubstantiality, and imperfection.” IF you find yourself sharing your personal doubts and frustrations with your fellow travelers as to how the sangha is functioning, including its leadership, THEN you may be fomenting confusion, and resultant disharmony, in the sangha, a big “no-no” in Zen. As the story goes, one of Siddhartha Gautama's cohort of cousins, named Devadatta, was jealous of Shakyamuni's revered status, including the lavish support he received from patrons, and repeatedly attempted to have Buddha assassinated. Yet Buddha predicted that Devadatta would eventually realize buddha-hood. If such transgressions against the cohesion of the corporate Order of monks and nuns in those times could be regarded by Buddha as a kind of trial-and-error, coming of age saga, if over several lifetimes — we may be forgiven for the more minor errors in judgment that we may reasonably be expected to make in our efforts at community practice, and any resultant behaviors that may have unintended consequences. In any case, it does not pay to overthink these considerations, certainly not to make them the focus of our personal practice. A monk complained that when sitting in zazen, the rain was dripping on him from leaks in the roof. The Master told him to “move down.” Why spend a lot of time patching and repairing an old temple building, when you should be about the business of your own awakening to Buddha's insight? It is even more likely today that we will become enamored of the corporate entity and all its trappings, and lose sight of what brought us to Zen in the first place. The only thing that will accompany us when we go to our grave is our deeds. We have to leave the chimera of the corporation, along with the walls of the building, no matter how grandiose, behind — as well as the paperwork, thankfully. This realization should be accompanied by an immense sense of relief. * * * 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
Let's recall our initial outline of areas of interest we are using to compare and contrast the Zen life with our usual preoccupations. To refresh your memory, they were, and are: — Lifestyle: Monastic versus Householder — Physical: Zazen versus the four Cardinal Postures — Biological: Meditative breathing versus everyday situations— Psychological: Shikantaza versus ordinary attention In this segment we will take up the last of the four — attention — the third disposition, after posture and breath, of Matsuoka Roshi's simplified model of zazen, Zen's upright seated meditation. One of his repeat instructions was that, “When the posture, breath, and attention all come together in a unified way, this is the real zazen.” Which implies that we may think we are practicing zazen, when we are not. And what determines whether we are, or not, is, mainly, our attention. We can be sitting in the natural, upright posture; and following the natural, full breathing cycle, all the while paying attention to the wrong thing; or, perhaps better to say, not really paying attention at all, in the Zen sense. So, let's examine what we mean by “attention,” and later, how it works in zazen. In marketing and design circles, attention is regarded as a kind of commodity, upon which we may place a value. That billboard on the expressway attracts a certain amount of attention from the drivers passing by. The owner of the billboard can charge a certain amount of rent, based on the number of “eyeballs” exposed to its message, the client's message. In today's post-print media market, we are saturated with electronic media competing for our attention, seeking to maximize the amount of “clicks” or “hits” a message gets online, as well as on “legacy” or “traditional” media channels such as film, broadcast television, radio, and print publishing. So one way to think about paying attention in Zen, granted that it is a choice we make, is to ask ourselves: What is the most important thing to pay attention to? Of course, I can hear you responding with the hip and flip, too-clever-by-far, all-too-predictable trope: “Everything.” Like the hotdog joke — the Zen master will have one with everything. Which, seriously, raises the question of whether that is even possible. Actually paying attention to everything simultaneously, that is. Master Dogen, in his seminal tract on zazen, Fukanzazengi—Principles of Seated Meditation, at one point says: Now that you know the most important thing in Buddhism how can you be satisfied with the transient world?Our bodies are like dew on the grass and our lives like a flash of lightning Vanishing in a moment This lands about two-thirds of the way though the text, and by then he has said maybe a hundred or so things about Buddhism, so it begs the question, “Which of these is the most important?” But I think we can safely surmise that it has something to do with attention. The legendary Master Bodhidharma, credited with bringing the direct practice of Buddha's meditation to China at the end of the 5th century CE, taught that it is not necessary — or should not be necessary — to do zazen, but that we have only to “grasp the vital principle.” Of course, for most of us, we have to burn through a lot of zazen to be able to grasp the vital principle of Zen. Notable exceptions include Master Huineng, the sixth in the Chinese succession in the 7th century, who underwent a profound experience of insight without benefit of a teacher, or any prior practice. This rare event is traditionally attributed to “merit accumulated in past lives.” But such prodigies are few and far between. My theory is that the main reason that most of us have to sit in zazen to such an extreme extent is that the load of ignorance, personal opinions, and rationalizations we carry on our shoulders has accumulated to that extent. In design and art circles, we speak of two different fundamental kinds of processes working with material media. One is “additive”: lumping clay onto an armature to build a bust of Napoleon, for example; the other is “subtractive”: chipping away the stone to reveal Rodin's “The Thinker.” I find zazen to be mostly the latter. We are chipping away at our own ignorant ideas and preconceptions of reality to get to the bottom of things. And it's a long way down. So what we have to pay attention to is, or may be, “everything,” in one sense; but by taking one thing at a time. And there are a lot of things in the pile we have accumulated. “Pile,” by the way, is one meaning of “skandha” — a “heap,” or “aggregate” — of many like things. Which gets a mention early in the Heart Sutra chanted frequently in most Zen wheelhouses around the world. O Shariputra, form is no other than Emptiness; Emptiness no other than formFeeling, thought, impulse, and consciousness are likewise Emptiness So there you have it. The four aggregates of sentient experience of which we can be conscious — the form, or appearance, of things; the feelings, both tactile and emotional, that we experience on both instinctual and intentional levels; the stream-of-conscious thoughts relentlessly emitted by the brain; and the underlying impulses triggered both subliminally and on the edges of awareness. And finally, consciousness itself, can become conscious of consciousness, “form and reflection” beholding each other, in Tozan Ryokai's memorable phrase from Hokyo Zammai—Precious Mirror Samadhi. Back to Bodhidharma, who refers to this same point in an oblique manner: The great Buddhist saint went on to say that if and when we do zazen — in spite of his reluctance to claim the necessity of doing so — there are four basic aspects of ordinary awareness that we can observe, or pay attention to: the breath; physical sensations; emotional sensations, or mood swings; and finally, the machinations of the mind: our various thoughts or concepts, about everything and nothing. A four-pointed model. I think one of Bodhidharma's main points is that in observing the breath, we note that it comes and goes momentarily — we never breathe the same breath twice. Likewise for physical, emotional, and conceptual phenomena — they are ever-changing, by nature impermanent. Well, “Duh!” you say. But these are four of the main aspects of what it is to be a sentient being — those we most associate with our personal identity: This is MY breath; I am hot or cold, in pain, or comfortable; this is MY moodiness; and these are MY ideas. And yet all four are essentially ephemeral, like “a bubble on a stream,” to borrow from Shakyamuni himself. So where does this pervading sense of continuity come from, this “persistence of vision,” and all the other senses? And what are we to make of this contrarian stanza from Hsinhsinming—Trust in Mind, by Master Sosan: To move in the One WayDo not reject even the world of senses and ideasIndeed accepting them fullyIs identical with true enlightenment As I discuss in excruciating detail in the chapter on “Deconstructing Your Senses in the Most Natural Way,” from my first book, ”The Original Frontier” (I know, I know, it is weird to be quoting from your own writing), as we settle into the relatively extreme stillness of zazen — fixed gaze and all — a kind of profound sensory adaptation begins to set in, which is also referenced in the Heart Sutra, just after the bit about the skandhas: Given Emptiness [there are] no eyes, no ears, no nose, no tongue, no body, no mind;No seeing, hearing, smelling, tasting, touching;No realm of sight; no realm of mind-consciousness So now we are getting a clue as to what to pay attention to in zazen. And the implication that things are not exactly as they seem to be, sensory-wise. If we simply sit still enough for long enough — and it is anything but simple — everything changes. Through the natural process of paying strict attention to the senses, the process of adaptation takes us through what is sometimes referred to as samatha, or samadhi — calming or stilling the mind; and eventually, and hopefully, vipassana, kensho or satori in Japanese; or what is referred to as “spiritual insight.” Which, by definition, is different from, but inclusive of, normal sight. Do you “see” what I mean? Then the Sutra goes on to say: And so no ignorance; [and] no end of ignorance;No sickness, old age and death; no end of sickness old age and death Whoa! Here is a whiplash-inducing claim. Transcending the senses — as we ordinarily experience and interpret them — takes a seemingly sudden turn, eliminating the very ignorance that has been bedeviling us all along. It also magically relieves us of the burden of the three main marks of dukkha, or sentient suffering: sickness, old age, and death. This challenges our credulity. That those things we fear most in life: the loss of life itself, through the random crapshoot of contracting one of the innumerable fatal illnesses threatening us; or the natural process of aging out of life, just as we age out of our professions and familial responsibilities. Is it all just a figment of our imaginations? In summation, we are all paying full attention every moment of our waking day. But, like the proverbial monkey jumping from limb to limb of the tree of consciousness, it seems random and pointless. The challenge, and the question, becomes what is the most important thing in the flux-and-flow of daily life to pay attention to, and more precisely, how? I would submit that we begin with accepting, and even embracing, the flux-and-flow itself. Master Nagarjuna, 14th in the Indian succession, where Bodhidharma was 28th, said something to the effect that enlightenment entails “seeing into the flux of arising, abiding, and decaying.” And it seems to me that that “abiding” piece is one source of our confusion. If anything is abiding, it is not for long, not in geological time, nor in the quantum realm. So a big part of what we are observing, or paying attention to, is change itself, the passing pageantry of life. I would suggest that, as a benchmark, simply paying more attention to posture and, more pointedly, your breath, will help extend the halo effect of your meditation into every situation you confront in daily life. It may also begin to bring home the deeper meaning of the seemingly trivial and mundane activities which otherwise amount to distractions. There is much more to say about attention, of course, as there is about posture and breath. But for the sake of simplicity, and the practical constraints of this podcast, I will leave that to your imagination and to your discovery in zazen. And I will leave you with a final caveat concerning the nature of the realization of insight, as well as the limits of our imagination, from Hsinhsinming: With a single stroke we are freed from bondage Nothing clings to us and we hold to nothingAll is empty; clear; self-illuminating; with no exertion of the mind's powerHere, thought, feeling, knowledge, and imagination are of no value For more on Soto Zen, its meaning and application to our modern life and practice, please check out our online and in-person schedules on the Atlanta Soto Zen Center website, and register for my Master Class on the Soto Zen liturgical verses.