The Zennist

What is transmitted?

We can think of a Buddhist lineage or Buddha gotra as a tradition. The word 'tradition' comes from the Latin verb ‘tradere’ which means to transmit. Thus, in a tradition there is a transmission. But tradition also refers to what is transmitted, namely, a traditum. Putting this together, in a tradition something is transmitted. But what is transmitted, in the case of Buddhism, and in particular Zen? Is it a robe, or a bowl. Are documents, seals, or certificates transmitted? If we think about this and answer that the Dharma is transmitted then what is the substance of this transmitted Dharma?

With other traditions it is easy to guess what they transmit. It might be a skill or a secret recipe that has been in our family for many generations. In the example of this recipe we can actually taste the tradition. In other traditions, what is transmitted might be a certain blend of teas, or a particular trade skill that has been handed down as is often the case in Japan. It could also be the tradition of violin making or weaving Persian carpets.

But now we must ask ourselves, in the highest tradition of Buddhism, what is transmitted? What, for example, did the Buddha know and see that other Buddhas before him also realized? Of course, we can posit some answer like, true reality (yathabhutam). But what it is like to receive this traditum? How is it different than a strong belief by which I am persuaded that I have been transmitted?

For Zen master Huang-po (d. 850) the traditum was the One Mind (ekacittam) which, instead of being pluralized, is mind which is purely, itself, or one. In this transmission, even the plural form of mind is recognized to be mind-only whereas before we were unable to distinguish the One Mind from its pluralization into a riot of phenomena.

Who transmits the One Mind is simple: it is the Mind, itself, if we can get into the range for this event to happen by letting go of the baggage of the plural mind. What is important to grasp is that we don’t actually need a teacher to transmit us. The Buddha, the Pali Nikayas inform us, never transmitted anyone. He simply helped people to open their heart up to allow the Mind to Mind transmission as it is called in Zen literature.

Leaving samsara

Nirvana is never given in our everyday experience and neither is the means of our escape from samsara. According to the Buddha, in our everyday experience, the only things which are evident are impermanence, suffering and the hard fact that I am not any of this. It is also evident that I am involved in a process from which escape is not apparent. Or, the same, if there is an escape from samsara, I am ignorant of it. But if the message of the Buddha is to mean anything significant for us—more than a description of our finiteness—it has to disclose how we might pull ourselves out of ourselves so that we can abandon our connection with samsara. Only in this way is nirvana revealed to us: when we have surpassed ourselves, in the present while still alive, so as to release our hold on our entire being which began with our birth and ends with our death. In this release, only then do we gain the sphere of immortality and supreme bliss.

As they are

"We do not see things as they are, we see them as we are."— Anaïs Nin

According to the Buddha, this body of ours, the one we take for granted to be who we are, is a body of being, which in Sanskrit is, satkaya. This is the corporeal body. But it is not who we really are—far from it. While we cling to it, being deeply and profoundly engaged with it, we've set ourselves up, unknowingly, to view things according to the needs of the body of being, the satkaya.

As we flow into the satkaya, as a sattva or being, it alone catches our attention as we enter into bondage. In this respect, we have lost sight of our primordial spiritual nature which is naturally liberated. Now entrained to the satkaya, we are forced to look through the sense organs of the satkaya which are very limited. And because our body of being is often sad, uncomfortable, or suffering, it casts a shadow over things. The world, for us, becomes more than often, gloomy.

If I were to suddenly put you, the reader, into the body of someone who is awakened, to see things as they really are, you would be amazed. First, you wouldn't want to go back to your former existence. So what would it be like? First, there would be the strange sense that you are not really in this body, although it follows your orders, so to speak. Next, everything you set your gaze upon—even ordinary thoughts—begin to wax blissful; so blissful, in fact, that you are almost overwhelmed. When pain arises in the satkaya—it is met with bliss which, I hasten to add, is the real meaning of compassion.

Now, what you don't realize, even though you are in the body of one who is awakened, is that you are seeing things through a spiritual body (manomayakaya) which lets things be as they are. This body, which is not the satkaya, beholds even the satkaya as it really is when it is devoid of interference.

Admittedly, this illustration is out of reach for us. But it is not out of reach to see the tremendous benefit of being gentle beings, who don't hurl themselves into the satkaya with the desire of a drunken sailor looking for a good time! In fact, it is almost a ratio to consider that the more we madly cling to the satkaya, thirsting to enjoy the fruits of the flesh, the more we alter the truth of existence. This is the way, in other words, we lose paradise and much worse, any remembrance of it.

If we really wish, in our heart of hearts, to behold this vast universe as it is, from our spiritual bodies, we have to stop subsisting on the carnal body. We have to fast from it, in other words, which begins the slow process of the retraction of our wayward spirit (sattva); at least withdrawing it to a level where we begin to see the higher life (svarga).

Dark and obscure

Having entered the Dharma Hall for a formal instruction, the Master said: “Every person originally has the radiant light—yet when it is looked at, it is not seen: dark and obscure!” With this, the Master left the teacher’s seat. —Yumen

Zen hides a great mystery, but paradoxically, an obvious one. In fact, Zen is all about mysticism—Chinese style. If you are not keen on mysticism you might miss the real teaching of Zen and lose your life in the sea of samsara.

When Hui-k’e sought an audience with Bodhidharma, the first Patriarch, he was on a spiritual quest. Hui-k’e wanted to find the transcendent which is beyond birth and death. He knew that if he could encounter it, directly, he would be free from the deadly influence of samsara. When they met, Bodhidharma could tell that Hui-k’e was ripe for Mind baptism. He had exhausted all of his options and presuppositions about pure Mind. Hui-k’e was like a little mouse trapped in the dry horn of a bull, pushing his little nose against the small part of the dry horn.

Hui-k’e implored Bodhidharma to bring peace to his mind. Then Bodhidharma said, “Show me the mind. I will make it peaceful.” Hui-k’e responded by saying, “I have searched for it, but I could not find it.” Then Bodhidharma said, “I have once and for all brought peace to your mind. Do you now see it?” With these words, Hui-k’e became greatly awakened.

If Hui-k’e had known that Mind, with a capital ‘M’, had brought him to Bodhidharma which also animated this thoughts and words, he would have twisted the nose of the old sagely one. But, obviously he didn’t. He didn’t recognize that Mind is without characteristics and invisible, or that Mind is radiant and animative. Hui-k’e, to use an old Zen expression, was riding a donkey in search of one.

Make no mistake about it, Hui-k’e was a brilliant person and already knew a great deal about Buddhism, but he was not smart enough to know and to see that Mind is like an invisible force which cannot be grasped or seen—especially with words. But with the help of Bodhidharma Hui-k’e’s mind found Mind.

Today, those who seek the heart of Zen are often not told that Mind is a numinous power which animates us. They are just told to sit and basically, shut up. But Hui-k’e was not sitting when he saw “it”. And he didn’t shut up. He was hot on the trail of Mind; hot enough to seek out Bodhidharma. I bet it astonished him to sense the spiritual power of Bodhidharma when he first approached him. How could Hui-k’e not help but see “it”, the Mind. Bodhidharma was a powerhouse of Mind’s radiant nature. In fact, one of the legends about Bodhidharma is that he sat Wall-gazing. But correctly translated it says, "transcends discrimination and abides in the numinous."

Anti-foundationalism and Zen

Some scholars of Buddhism and, indeed, some Buddhists are of the largely unproven opinion that Buddhism, and especially Zen, teaches a radical form of anti-foundationalism in which phenomena are their own basis.

So what does this all mean in non-high-faluting English? It means that there are some who believe that there is no underlying principle or subtrata to phenomenal reality—no reality limit (bhuta-koti), in other words. For them, what we perceive through our senses is all there is—there is nothing more foundational or fundametal behind things.

These same people believe, in essence, that our thoughts, which are constantly in flux, are not compounded from any kind of numinous substrata of Mind (prakritiprabhasvaram cittam) or Suchness (tathata) which, incidentally, goes against the Buddha's teaching. Supposedly, there is only dependent co-arising which, I hasten to add, is synonymous with suffering since it specifically deals with the world of becoming (i.e., birth and death)!

What they have overlooked in being so one-sided, is nirvana. Rightly, nirvana is to be regarded as the logical counterpart of dependent co-arising, or the same, dependent origination. In a word, nirvana does not become. It transcends birth and death. Nirvana is connected with the absolute or foundation of things which is uncompounded; which is not something we perceive in our daily thoughts. This is foundationalism at it purest.

And of those Zennists, like Zen master Lin-chi (J., Rinzai) who said, “The Mind of Dharma is immaterial and pervades all the ten directions of space” they are to be counted as foundationalists instead of anti-foundationalists! These are the same teachers who understand that emptiness (shunyata) is Suchness; which is aether-like. Emptiness, it should be underscored, is not a vacuum. It is quite the opposite, in fact. The Buddha regarded it as fullness. When it is said, for example, that “form is emptiness and emptiness is form” we are to regard all formations as being composed from the substance of emptiness which is formable. It is no less being itself as the foundation of a tea cup or our body. And to experience emptiness is to experience a great power instead of nothing. Emptiness is synonymous, according to Mahayana Buddhism, with the absolute (paramartha) and fundamental reality (dharma-dhatu). Again, this is foundationalism.

For those who have not apperceived the foundation of phenomenal reality it is altogether natural to conclude—and rather hastily— there is no foundation to it. What they have done is to confuse the true unchanging nature of things with the changing things themselves. They make mere attributes and properties the foundation of still other attributes and properties!

The key difference

The key difference between Hinayana Buddhism and Mahayana Buddhism may lie in the difference of presence. Hinayana denies that anything is present in Nirvana. Mahayana realizes the advaya nature of this state which means contrast without duality. It is akin to ice in water—or we could also say, the contrast of spirit, itself, with the density of spirit. Fundamentally, in advaya, there is not one scintilla of actual difference between the absolute and its contrast which is this world.

Surprisingly, we are already here, in this state. But our delusions tell us something quite different. And because we have great faith in our delusions (and the deluded mind which is their slave) we wish to hold on to them.

Those who subscribe to Hinayana Buddhism tend to believe that going to Nirvana is going to oblivion—this is their delusion. They are under the sway of the illusion of oblivion which is deficient (hina) of contrast; which is actually nothing more than ignorance! By comparison, those who subscribe to Mahayana Buddhism gain unlimited freedom; who never again fall into illusion. All before their gaze is the mode of Buddha Mind which is an endless, living array of Buddha Mind’s creative outpouring.

The shadow’s lag

All of us understand that a shadow lags behind the actions of our body. We also understand that the body is not an emanation of the shadow! But do we understand that the body is a shadow, also? Do we understand that it lags behind the Suchness (tathata) that animates it? Apparently, not many of us understand. We treat the body as primary—not as a shadow which lags behind.

We are so disposed by wrong habit to imagine that our body is first and all else which appears to arise from it, is secondary or the same, it is epiphenomena. While this may seem to be the case, it is not as it appears. Our body is actually a dependent arising which is dependent upon an animating spirit. But try as we might to apperceive this spirit or Suchness, we can’t. We can’t, because the apperceiver is also a dependent arising! Put another way, the apperceiver is a shadow. And here we come to the difficulty of awakening (sambodhi) or even having an initial awakening (bodhcittotpada).

In a way, Suchness has to deduce itself from out of itself. This can only be accomplished by understanding the difference between pluralized Suchness as bodies, and singular Suchness by making the mind one pointed which is a bodiless state. When our body moves, being only a shadow, it is moved by the bodiless being—not the bodied person (satkaya). From the perspective of the body, this is starkly nothing for us. This perhaps accounts for why it seems easy to deny spirit because in terms of the body, spirit or Suchness is nothing (like a body). This is also a mystery, because this knowledge is only known to a very few who have mystically been in the presence of Suchness; who can distinguish singular Suchness from its aggregation, or body (mass might be a more apt term at this point).

Great sages have, to some degree, made contact with Suchness so that their bodily existence is shadow-like and secondary. In this state, the sage has merged, to some extent, with Suchness so that, more and more, the body is perceived as a colorful shadow lagging behind the animative power of Suchness.

For the ordinary persons this amounts to gibberish or nonsense. This is because they are in a total state of ignorance, believing that the dependently originated body is primary. So to speak, they have been looking at shadows for so long they have lost sight of the animative side which is Suchness.

Their condition is so extreme that in many cultures the sage is scorned being often treated as a parasite who sits around doing nothing. Yet, it is the ordinary people who are to be scorned because they have altogether forsaken Suchness which makes their very life possible. By such a denial, they worship the dying instead of the undying. And in their daily lives they pursue the bodily instead of the disembodied. By their actions they strengthen the world of the dying eventually reaching nihilism. By comparison, the sage strengthens life and the undying. The sage brings light into the world which dissipates the shadow.

The unconventional self

The essence of Mahayana Buddhism is that it points to the transcendent, even resurrecting the atman in Sutras like the Nirvana Sutra and the Lankavatara Sutra.

There might be several reasons why Mahayana Buddhism developed and become so prominent. One possible reason is that some Buddhists, after the Buddha's death, became fed up with the no-self teaching which had taken a turn towards nihilism. They may have started other schools trying to reform Buddhism; trying to make it a religion of hope instead of despair. Another possible reason is that shortly after the Buddha’s death a radical split developed between the antitranscendentalists, who disbelieved in anything their senses could not perceive, and the transcendentalists, who subscribed to the theory that behind the temporal veil is an unchanging ground of reality.

Leaving aside further analysis for now, some of the tenets of non-Mahayana Buddhism have, over the years, gained wide appeal. One tenet, in particular, is the no-self doctrine which mainly has its roots in the Theravada tradition.

The main thrust of Theravada Buddhism is its denial of an unconventional self which transcends sensory consciousness. Instead, it choses to limit self to a conventionalist view of self; a self which is personal but, nevertheless, finite having no real existence.

This conventionalist interpretation of Gautama’s discourses rests upon two supports. The first support is that the term ‘self’, as used in the Pali canon, has only a conventional designation. It strictly refers to the personal, psychophyscial being which is made up of Five Aggregates; which are usually given as form, sensation, perception, habitual formations, and consciousness. The second support is that, without exception, the Buddha denied an unconventional self which transcends the Five Aggregates. It should be added to this, that both of these supports are critical for the no-self doctrine of Theravada Buddhism. There can be no exceptions by way of scripture.

If, in fact, an exception occurs within scripture, then it is more than likely that the Buddha taught a transcendent self and that Mahayana Buddhism, in its development, was an endeavor to restore the unconventional, transcendent side of Gautama’s teaching which had been previously suppressed by the antitranscendentalists.

At this point, we need to examine the Pali canon to see if the self is strictly used ‘always conventionally’ and ‘never unconventionally’. If there are any gray areas or utterances made by Gautama which even seem to refer to an unconventional self, which is other than a designation for the Five Aggregates, then the no-self doctrine has to be rejected; which means it is a deficient (hina) teaching of the Buddha; Mahayana thus being the more complete teaching.

Rather than pose arguments which can become complex and arcane to Buddhists and non-Buddhists alike, I will present a number of passages which fall into the category of the ‘unconventional self’ which is not associated with the Five Aggregates. This simply means that the self used in these contexts in transcendent and unconventional.

“They who have the light of self (attadipa), possess nothing. They wander form place to place every way released” (Sutta-Nipata 501).

“One who by the path made by the self (pajjena katena attanâ), is gone to utter coolness (parinibbânagato), has crossed all doubt, leaving aside becoming and non-becoming, one who has lived the life, who has suppressed all rebirth, such a one is called a true bhikkhu” (Sutta-Nipata 514)

“Let the bhikkhu become calm in the self (ajjhattam). Let him not look for quietude from another, for one who is calm in the self (ajjhattam), nothing is assumed nor therefore rejected” (Sutta-Nipata 919).

“The self (in thee), man, knows what is true or false. Surely the noble Witness, sir, the Self, you do misjudge, in that when sin is there you do conceal the Self within the self...Thus he who has the Self as master, let him walk with heed, for whom the world is master—shrewdly walk, for whom Dhamma is master (as a) muser (let him walk). Who lives as Dhamma bids him never fails” (Anguttara-Nikaya 1.149, from I.B. Horner's Early Buddhist Theory of Man Perfected, p. 145)

“The Perfect Buddhas who have passed, the Perfect Buddhas yet to come, the Perfect Buddha who is now, and hath for many banished woe—all dwelt and shall dwell: 'tis their way. So he to whom the self is dear (attakâma), who longeth for the great Self (mahattam)—he should homage unto Dhamma pay, remembering the Buddha-word” (Anguttara-Nikaya, ii.21, IV, III, 22).

“When consciousness is unestablished, not coming to growth, nongenerative, it is liberated (vimuttam). The self liberated (vimutt-attâ), it is immovable, the self immovable, it is content, whose self is content, is not agitated. Unagitated, the very self (paccattam) surely attains complete nibbana” (Samyutta-Nikaya, iii.53–54).

“But monks, an instructed disciple of the pure ones...regards material shape as: ‘This is not mine, this am I not, this is not my self;’ he regards feeling as: ‘This is not mine, this I am not, this is not my self;’ he regards perception as: ‘This is not mine, this I am not, this is not my self;’ he regards the habitual tendencies as: ‘This is not mine, this I am not, this is not my self;’ he regards consciousness as: ‘This is not mine, this I am not, this is not my self.’ And also he regards whatever is seen, heard, sensed, cognised, reached, looked for, pondered by the mind as:’ This is not mine, this I am not, this is not my self’” (Majjhima-Nikaya, i.136).

"It is as if there was for a man a house having eleven doors; if that house were on fire, he would be able to save himself (lit. the self) by any of those doors. In the same way I will be able to make the self safe (attânam sotthim kâtum) by anyone of those eleven doors that lead to the undying (amata)" (Majjhima-Nikaya, 1.353).

“Here he rejoices, hereafter he rejoices; one who performed meritorious deeds rejoices in both existences. He rejoices and greatly rejoices seeing the karmic purity of the self (kammavisuddhim attano)” (Dhammapada 16).

“Go on the right path announced [to you] and never turn back, inciting the self by the self (attana codayattanam), one should win Nirvana” (Theragatha 637).

An open secret

Yes, of course Zen has a secret teaching as do most Mahayana traditions of Buddhism. The secret is carefully guarded. It is hidden in the obvious like a boat hides in a boat. People who cling to phenomenal characteristics; chasing after name and form, cannot enter through the mystery gate which gives access to the secret temple of Buddhist enlightenment. Real Zen teachers do their best to veil their wisdom so that when an outsider comes into their presence they can’t detect anything special.

When the Buddha first began teaching he taught a secret teaching. Only the Aryasravakas (often translated by the word ‘disciple’) understood what the Buddha was really trying to teach while those who didn’t understand the secret teaching were called, Prithagjana, referring to secular people. According to scholars, originally, a Bodhisattva meant an Aryasravaka. He had an initial awakening (bodhi) which enabled him to comprehend the secret principle of Buddhism, thus expanding it (mahayana).

When the Buddha spoke of certain practices such as creating a spiritual body which, like a sword in a scabbard can be withdrawn from the carnal body, he was speaking with Aryasravakas—not Prithajana. When the Buddha was referring to the Triple Gem Sangha, he meant only the Sangha of Aryasravakas, not monks or Prithajana.

Prithajana are always under the assumption that the Buddha is with a human form; and taught ethical practices. They don’t understand that, according to the Mahavastu, the Tathagatas are born with spiritual bodies (manomayarupa). In this respect, ‘Buddha’ really means the pure Mind which has completely and fully awakened to itself such that it is an effective spiritual power which overcomes suffering.

When the Aryasravakas were in the presence of the Buddha, they were in a state of sukha or bliss to such an extent that they didn’t feel like doing much else except to grin. They sensed their undying spiritual bodies as they energized the carnal body giving it life. Thus, they broke their attachment to the carnal body which is always subject to death.

The Prithajanas, on the other hand, are deeply attached to their carnal bodies because they know and see nothing else beside the physical. They imagine that various physical practices pave the way to nirvana. When the Buddha was alive, they could only manage to act pious around the him which didn’t impress him. They had no idea what was going on. I am sure the Buddha and the Aryasravakas spent much of their time laughing at the pious antics of the Prithajanas and the Prithajana monks.

Much later, in the early schools of Zen, where the secret teaching was said to reside, many people, i.e., the Prithajana, were hard pressed to figure out the antics of the Zen masters. They couldn’t make heads or tails of their enigmatic words or their, often, crazy behavior. Had they been let in on the secret, they might have seen something else. Each Zen master who understood the secret was demonstrating how the secret spiritual principle revealed itself in every day settings. Later, these incidents were fashioned into koans. But of course those monks and lay people who clung to the secular mind didn’t get it. For example, they imagined koans to be like riddles instead of a living demonstration of the spiritual principle.

Now things are much worse than ever for Buddhism since it has come to the West. In Asia, after the Buddha’s secret teaching has been all but lost, Buddhist teachers at least admit, out of a sense of humility and respect, that they are nothing more than parrots; that they really don't understand Buddhism's secret principle. When Buddhism finally seated itself in the West, naturally Western teachers believe they completely understand Buddhism who then go about transmitting what can only be described as Prithajana Buddhism, or better yet, bourgeois Buddhism. Such Buddhism has only accommodated itself to what the public wants—and the public doesn’t want any teaching of Buddhism to be remotely esoteric.