Water Sucking Practice

At six this morning, an alarm went off in our house. I've heard the burglar alarm--there was the time I came home in the dark and couldn't find my glasses to disarm the system. I heard the smoke alarm last time I made homemade pizza. But I had never heard this particular sound before. I consulted the LED panel: "Water Alert."

Wha?

We've had quite a lot of snow and rain recently. More than I realized, in fact. The water table is unusually high, and this morning my nice less-than-five-years-old basement was wet, Really wet.

So I got out the wet/dry vacuum and used it wet--possibly for the very first time. I can't remember ever doing it before. I filled it up pretty fast, and that's when I remembered that a gallon of water weighs eight pounds. So that means a 20 gallon shop vac full of rain water weighs--what? 160 lbs., that's what.

What fun.

I've been working with Lojong slogans the last few weeks, thanks to Norman Fischer's terrific new book, Training In Compassion: Zen Teachings on the Practice of Lojong. I don't intend this to be a discussion of Zen adaptation and adoption of this Tibetan teaching, interesting as that might be. Rather, I want to talk about a couple of those slogans from the standpoint of one who has been sucking up water for the last ten hours.

Slogans 11 and 12 are: Turn all mishaps into the path, and Drive all blames into one. (I see #12 as just a variant or refinement of #11.)

A Zen way of saying Turn all mishaps into the path might be "Your best teacher is always in front of you." So how should I vacuum up a cellar full of water with this attitude in mind? Put down opinions, for one thing. Don't bother about what is "good" or "bad." Just work. Just do what's in front of you without any idea of gaining something. That was actually easier than it sounds, once I realized that in fact there was no "gaining." As soon as I vacuumed up water, it came right back again. I haven't gained anything that I can see.

Drive all blames into one. Why did we build this house with a basement? I didn't exactly oppose the idea, but I did question it. We live next to the ocean. How would we ever keep the place dry? Oh, it's going to be totally waterproof, I was told. No problem. Technology is wonderful You'll see!

I also wanted gutters on this house, but was told they were aesthetically undesirable. They were simply too ugly for the style of house, and besides they were unnecessary, as I had already been told.

None of the people who told me these things five years ago was available this morning to help vacuum up the water, of course. I'm sure they're busy all afternoon as well. So I have plenty of opportunity for blame. But the slogan tells me that the real blame (if there can be such a thing) rests with my opinions and preferences and my inability to find some good in this situation.

Some good? What good can possibly come from this? What is there to be learned from using my whole Saturday sucking up water?

The answer is Patience. Norman Fischer calls patience "my all-time favorite spiritual quality." We might imagine there has to be some easier way to learn patience, but there really isn't. The only way to increase patience is to run right up to the edge of our limits and take one step over that line for a while.

Mission accomplished.

Actually, it's continuing.

Jianzhi Sengcan, Third Zen Patriarch (Part 3)

"To deny the reality of things is to miss their reality; to assert the emptiness of things is to miss their reality. The more you talk and think about it, the further astray you wander from the truth. Stop talking and thinking and there is nothing you will not be able to know."

From Hsin Hsin Ming - verses on the faith mind of Sengstan (Sosan) 3rd Zen Patriarch, translated from the original Chinese by Richard B. Clarke, Zen teacher at the Living Dharma Centers, Amherst, Massachussets and Coventry, Connecticut. (Source: Deeshan.com, tip o' the hat to David Lawrence.)

Jianzhi Sengcan, Third Zen Patriarch (Part 2)

"When the deep meaning of things is not understood the mind's essential peace is disturbed to no avail. The way is perfect like vast space where nothing is lacking and nothing is in excess. Indeed, it is due to our choosing to accept or reject that we do not see the true nature of things. Live neither in the entanglements of outer things, nor in inner feelings of emptiness. Be serene without striving activity in the oneness of things and such erroneous views will disappear by themselves. When you try to stop activity to achieve passivity your very effort fills you with activity. As long as you remain in one extreme or the other you will never know Oneness. Those who do not live in the single Way fail in both activity and passivity, assertion and denial."

From Hsin Hsin Ming - verses on the faith mind of Sengstan (Sosan) 3rd Zen Patriarch, translated from the original Chinese by Richard B. Clarke, Zen teacher at the Living Dharma Centers, Amherst, Massachussets and Coventry, Connecticut. (Source: Deeshan.com, tip o' the hat to David Lawrence.)

Repost: Inspiring Yourself to Practice by Won-Hyo: Part 1

Garden Buddha, Do Am Sah, Falenica, Poland.
Photo by Mark O'Leary

This is a repost from a blog I have begun reading called "Wake Up and Laugh." The blog is on my "probation" list, that is, I'm still checking it out to see if I want to subscribe to it via my news reader. Check out this post. Tell me what you think. Maybe subscribe to it yourself if you like it. I'll repost Part 2 when it comes out.

INSPIRING YOURSELF TO PRACTICE by Won-Hyo Seunim

For countless eons all Buddhas residing in Nirvana
have discarded their desires and trained arduously.
For countless eons sentient beings have transmigrated
throughout Samsara, not discarding their greed and desires.

The gate to the Pure Land is not blocked.
Yet few are those who enter;
most make their home among the three poisons.
Although the lower realms lack inherent power to seduce,
many enter therein.

The deluded mind values the five desires and the four elements
comprising the body as if they were jewels.
As this is the case, is there no one longing
to retire to the secluded mountains to practice the Way?

Enmeshed in desire, folks don’t go there.
Although you don’t take refuge in the mountains to cultivate your mind,
strive wholeheartedly to perform wholesome actions.

If you can renounce pleasure,
you will be as trusted and respected as the sages.
If you can undergo that which is difficult,
you will be as respected as the Buddha.
Those who greedily seek after things join the ranks of demons.
Those who give out of compassion are the disciples of the Dharma King.

(This post was also published on purelandway.wordpress.com: a blog specifically about Pure Land Buddhism)

How To Meditate, Part 2: Now What?

OK, so you're meditating. Or at least you think you are. 


You have found a place, arranged something to sit on, be it zafu or blanket or folding chair from the old card table set. You have "assumed the position," as it were. You're breathing. 


So exactly what is it we're supposed to be doing here?


Many teachers in the Soto Zen tradition would say, That's it. Just continue sitting. As unsatisfactory as this answer may be to the new meditator, it is to a degree accurate. The Japanese word for this type of meditation is shikantaza, literally "just sitting." It's an incredibly profound and powerful practice. But because you're still a newbie, you don't see it yet. And that's OK.


The goal (if I may use that word) of all Buddhist practice--sitting, walking, chanting, bowing--is to become grounded in the present moment. In Zen, we always say the most important thing is, "What are you doing right now? What is the truth of this moment?" So we want to apply that principle to our sitting practice. 


In a book called Zen Judaism (by David M. Bader), I found the following: "Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe in. Breathe out. Forget this and attaining Enlightenment will be the least of your problems." But of course, we never "forget" to breathe, do we? It happens by itself, the same way we beat our heart or grow our hair. Awareness of the breath becomes a very handy way to make the unconscious conscious. 


Typically, focusing on the breath goes like this: breathe in, breathe out--count "one." Breathe in, breathe out--count "two." Continue in this way up to "ten." Then go back to "one" again. Don't force the breath or try to make it longer or shorter--just let it be whatever your body wants it to be. 


While you're doing this, just place your attention on the bare sensation of breathing. Where do you feel it? Back of the throat? Inside the nose? Do you feel your chest rising and falling? Your abdomen expanding? Don't try to make those things happen; just notice them if they do happen. 


With me so far? Easy, right? Now here's where the practice really heats up.


At some point, you're going to lose focus on the breath. You'll start to think about something else, and you'll suddenly realize you forgot what number you're on. That's no problem. In fact, that's what's supposed to happen! Because the real practice is to realize you've lost the present moment (in the form of concentrating on the breath), and gently bring your attention back to it. You do this by simply returning to counting, beginning with "one" again.


You'll be tempted to think you have "messed up," done something wrong. Some days you'll tell yourself you suck at meditation. That's incorrect. The practice is not to see how many times you can get up to ten breaths, but actually to lose your concentration and get it back again. Losing count is supposed to happen. You're doing fine.


Last thing: this breath-counting is an elementary practice. For many people, it's the first one they ever learn. That's just because it's easy to teach and easy for the student to do right away. But don't imagine that because it's a "beginner" technique it's something you'll outgrow as practice matures. This simple practice has such power, you could do it exclusively for many years and not exhaust its usefulness. You might get tired of it, but you'll come back to it over and over again. It's that good.


In Part Three, I'll tell you about a couple of things you can do when--despite what I just said above--you get tired of counting breaths.


Hapchang,


Mark

How To Meditate, Part I: Easier Than You Think

Recently, I have found myself giving basic sitting meditation instruction to small groups of people on several occasions.  Although I am not any kind of "official" Dharma teacher, as a practitioner I am sometimes asked to explain to people just what it is we do when we're on that cushion. I thought I would jot it all down here in case someone might find it useful. 


First, find a comfortable sitting position. Traditionally, we sit on the floor using a cushion and a mat. If you have these items, great! If not, don't be discouraged. Folded blankets or towels and firm pillows are perfectly fine if you have them. And if you don't have them, or if you can't sit on the floor because of injury, illness, joint pain or just plain age, no worries! Sitting in a chair is also perfectly fine.


The main thing is to sit so that you can remain comfortable with your back straight and vertical. If sitting on the floor/cushion, aim to keep your knees lower than your hips, either kneeling or in one of the variations of the lotus or crossed-legs positions. This tilts the hips forward slightly, allowing the back to line up naturally in the correct position.  (These positions can be challenging to many westerners, so don't be discouraged if you find it difficult at first. Just be patient and gentle with yourself. You'll get it.)


If you sit in a chair, the knees-below-the-hips thing still applies. You might find it helpful to use a thin pillow to raise you up an inch or two. But the most important thing is don't lean back in the chair! This leads to sleepiness (not to mention a stiff back). Whichever way you sit, keep your back straight up and down. Imagine the vertebrae are like a stack of quarters.


There. That's the hard part. It's all downhill from here, kids!


Hands: there are lots of things to do with the hands. In Zen, we use the "Cosmic Mudra," right palm facing up in the lap, left hand facing up on top of it, thumbs touching lightly to form a soft oval. 


This is a traditional hand position, but there's nothing magic about it. Try it. If it works for you, great. If not, try another way. You can rest your hands facing upwards on your thighs, thumb and index finger touching lightly. Or you can simply rest your palms downward on your knees. Just pick one way and stick with it.


Eyes: open or closed? I have tried it both ways. When mine are closed, I tend to fall asleep, and since I'm pretty good at falling asleep anyway, I find eyes open works better for me. Again, the Zen way is to let your eyes droop to half-mast, and let your gaze rest on a spot on the floor a couple feet away from you. Do what makes sense for you.


If you've gotten this far, congratulations! You're meditating!


But what to do with the mind? That's a subject for next time. Hit me with any questions or comments you may have. Remember, I'm not an infallible authority, so don't take anything on my say-so.


Hapchang,




Mark

Mission Statement: Why I Blog

Titles by Zen Master Seung Sahn, published in German

In the Western world of the 21^st century, Zen is a lot like television in the 1950s, or the internet in the 1990s: we don’t yet know what we have, how to use it, or what it’s going to look like as it grows in this unique environment. Nor do we appreciate the full effect of backwards pressure as American Zen influences Zen in the East.

But we do know that Western-style Zen will be distinct from its Asian predecessors. In China, Korea, and Japan, Zen developed unique expressions of practice, influenced by the cultural, artistic and social realities—as well as technological capabilities—of each of those places. In this blog I hope to examine how Zen expresses itself in a western environment, and how that environment in turn is influenced by Zen.