The Zennist

Our original face

“Not thinking of good, not thinking of evil, just at this moment, what is your original face before your mother and father were born?”

— Sixth Patriarch Hui-neng

In the practice of Zen, the seeker’s mind is entangled within idealizations or hypotheses of what he imagines the truth of Zen to be. It is especially the case with Hui-neng’s “original face” which preexists thought determinations. Hence, to think of this original face is to make a non-original face. In fact, any ploy the Zennist tries, in answer to the whatness of the original face, posits a derivative face. It falls short of the original.

The Zennist’s eagerness to find some sort of answer stirs the repository of consciousness (alaya-vijnana) which is like the smooth surface of a pond the wind has caused to form ripples . Mind, it should be understood, has a positing side as well as a receptive, alaya-vijnana side. Everything of which we are conscious (vijnana) can be likened to a wave formation—small or large—on the alaya-vijnana ocean. But as for the original face, itself, which is to be distinguished (prajna) from the receptive alaya-vijnana, a deeper introspective search has to be conducted.

This is where the Zen master, like Hui-neng, steps into the picture, who has seen his own original face firsthand. His job is to push the seeker towards the mysterious dark (hsuan), forcing the seeker to leap into it. He knows, however, that the leap is nothing dangerous. What the teacher has to deal with is the student's basic fear of the unknown. It is like telling someone in an area infested with poisonous snakes to pick up a rope in the dark. Hopefully, the poor chap will not die of fright imagining the rope to be a cobra!

Directly intuiting the invisible nature of the original face is further compounded by the seeker’s impatience and his unwillingness to learn to see his original face in its own light; as it were, to approach it by a different means than he is usually bent towards. Accordingly, the right answer largely depends upon renouncing one’s old habits which desire to see the world commonly; through old patterns and assumptions.

Using effort

Everyone has a lamp giving off great light: originally it spontaneously illumines heaven and earth; there is no distance to which it does not reach. It is no different from the Buddha and the Zen masters, but when it gets covered by false ideas and material toils, so that it cannot come out, it is therefore necessary to use effort in study to refine it.

— Zen master Yuan-hsien

To use effort in study means to remember something ancient within each of us that is, presently, concealed. If we wish to remember this great light, which is the pure Mind, we need to concentrate our energy instead of dispersing it, which weakens us, spiritually. When we engage with the mundane world, we are dispersing our spiritual energy. We are not concentrating our minds sufficiently, in other words. Zen, naturally, is very insistent that we learn to concentrate on everything we do, especially when it comes to taming our minds.

When it is said in books about Zen that the founder of Zen, Bodhidharma, sat ‘wall-gazing’ he was actually doing insight meditation, which is a form of mind concentration. He wasn’t involved with the mundane world of truck and barter. He wasn’t raising a family or engaged in conspicuous consumption, trying to maintain his social status.

Bodhidharma’s wall-gazing practice can be rendered as “transcends discrimination and abides in brightness” or “rejects discrimination and abides in brightness” (both are from Tibetan Zen sources). In either case, such descriptions are illustrative of insight meditation, vipashyana (C., kuan). The idea that Bodhidharma sat facing a wall (C., pi 壁) for nine years is almost ludicrous. If anything, wall-insight meditation means to penetrate through the wall of sensory consciousness such that one is able to break through it reaching, as a result, the brightness to abide in it.

We cannot even hope to break through the wall of sensory consciousness, upon which the mundane world is presented, if we are deeply attached to sensory phenomena: believing there is nothing beyond this enchanting wall. In such a state of ignorance, our ability to concentrate our energy, instead of dispersing it on the eye candy of sensory phenomena, is next to nothing. It is only when the mind is concentrated or singualarized, which is then able to pierce through the phenomenal wall, that any real progress is made in Buddhism. Short of this, we might sit and gaze at walls all of our lives. But we will never transcend the sensory wall of subject & object to experience the great light.

What meditation is supposed to accomplish

Asians are not too big on formal meditation. I think they realize that just sitting on one’s backside it not going to accomplish much. It might even be unhealthy since blood-clots can often form. Asians, I know, want to at least get an accurate idea of the context of Buddhism. Westerners seem not that interested. In fact, Westerners have pretty much concluded that Buddhism is a form of materialism, blending nicely with science.

It is difficult for many of those who practice meditation in Buddhism to understand, fully, what meditation is supposed to accomplish. I assume most believe it is an exercise that helps cope with the stresses of daily life. But this is not what meditation is, essentially, about.

Let us take the example of breath meditation. It has a goal. The goal is to take us beyond normal respiration to the primary source (pari-mukha) which is pure Mind. But why the emphasis on breathing, in particular? It is because our consciousness, which is presently tied to being breath bound, can also turn to what is beyond respiration. Our consciousness is understood in Buddhism to be a kind of cognitive focus of the mind (citta) which localizes. In terms of rebirth, consciousness localizes on the ovum. In the process of breathing, our consciousness is localized on our respirations. But we can also be conscious of being prior to our respirations as if to be conscious of what is not the in or out breath.

Because normal respiration, according to the Buddha, is something bodily, does it make any sense to follow the breath as some Buddhists believe? Rather we should detach our consciousness from continually attending to the breathing process in order to find, using a Zenic phrase, our original face before our birth. We can only do this by being mindful of the ultimate source of our breathing (i.e., the mukha) rather than simply attending to breathing as we do normally.

In the commentarial literature (UdA 188) that supplements the Udana found in the Pali Nikaya discourses of the Buddha, there is no particular reference to focusing on the nose or the mouth which, unfortunately, is a common meditation practice. The term 'mukha', in a particular commentary, is treated as being synonymous with niyyanattho which means: having the characteristic of leading to release or deliverance. Even in the Pali-English Dictionary by Rhys Davids and W. Stede the passage “parimukham satim upatthapetum” is translated “to surround oneself with watchfulness of mind”. Again, there is no reference to focusing on the mouth, the nose or following the breath. The Indo-Aryan word “mukha” has a significant number of possible meanings. In the Sanskrit Dictionary (MacDonell) besides referring to the mouth; the jaws; the snout—mukha can also mean the head; the chief; beginning; original cause of the action of a drama; source; occasion of; means.

We might ask, “How is focusing on the nose or one’s jaws going to effect nirvana?” In all candor, it seems stupid to focus on the nose or the mouth. But it does make a whole lot of common sense to attend the source of our respirations, or the beginning of breath, or the means of our breathing.

If we think about meditation as being a way to connect with the eternal life-giving part of ourselves, then meditation becomes a vital asset even in our mundane lives. It is, at least, a way to reclaim our spiritual life that is buried in the daily grind which is all for the sake of the temporal body instead of spirit.

Some heady Mahayana thoughts

Because mind (citta) is primordially identical with itself as in the example of, A = A, there is nothing for mind to know of itself whereas it should know. This is a paradox for mind that accounts for its inherent restlessness. The non-knowing of itself is the avidya of mind. Avidya, in Sanskrit, means both ignorance and incompleteness. It is the real cause of mind’s drive or craving—a craving, fundamentally, to know itself (sambodhi).

Through this craving, arising from avidya, mind conjures up possible representations of itself to satisfy (vidya) its craving. These can be thought of as possible hypotheses of absolute knowing in which mind attempts to recognize itself, or come near itself. Yet, every such hypothesis is inadequate—even the most sublime. This is because the absolute is non-hypothetical. It cannot be posited. In simple words, mind cannot be put under itself. Mind can only knows itself as sheer creativity; as numinous animative power that is symbolized by the Buddha sitting on a lotus dais.

The Flower Ornament Scripture (Avatamsaka Sutra) is perhaps the most dedicated of all Mahayana discourses in revealing this animative power through Buddha Vairocana. Vairocana, which in Pali is verocana, refers to the sun in the sense of “shinning forth”. This is not the visible sun, but the hidden sun which is not constrained by so-called, temporal physics. In The Flower Ornament Scripture there is hardly a page that doesn’t mention “light” and resonation (translated as “sound” which is somewhat misleading). The pericope found the The Flower Ornament Scripture (trans. Thomas Cleary), “The truth is seen by Silent Sound” means, actually, resonation. This is an insight into absolute resonation. Resonation occurs when two or more separate systems are joined together by the same frequency. In other words, they come into unison. In the next quatrain, the last two stanzas are illustrative of light’s animative power: “Therefore his purity [the Buddha’s] is the most radiant light: This the realization of the mind of Light Power.”

To attempt to sum this up for now, mind is lost to itself because it is perfectly identical with itself. This is illustrated by A = A in which there is zero contrast. Because of this condition, primordial mind contains only an inner restlessness: an anguishing incompleteness such that it repels itself from itself; thus, making a hypothetical jewel-like cosmos of exquisite beauty and depth. Yet, bearing witness to all of this beauty, mind still doesn’t recognize itself in its profuse displays even though it desires to know itself. As a result, mind becomes antagonistic (the age old war between light & darkness; god and the devil). Only when mind reaches the stage of Bodhisattva, in the way of Bodhicitta, and eventually Buddhahood, does mind fully discover how profound the cosmos is. The long trial of rebirth and suffering is over for the mind that recognizes its sheer luminous power; that resonates with its cosmos in unimaginable unific bliss.

This, I hasten to inject, shows the profundity of Mahayana Buddhism over other religions; that while embracing them, leads them towards the fullest and most complete enlightenment.

Only a killing machine

On a heavily moderated Buddhist forum, a junior contributor asks the question that if people are no more than the sum of the Five Aggregates, there being no self or atman behind them, then why did the Buddha bother to save people?

The answers, in general, to the junior contributor were short of the mark, dismissive, and in most cases without pertinence. The senior members who were trying to help the junior member with his question seemed unaware that the Buddha said this about the Five Aggregates which can be found in the Samyuttta-Nikaya (iii.189):

"When there is form, Radha, there might be Mara, or the killer, or the one who is killed. Therefore, Radha, see form as Mara, see it as the killer, see it as the one who is killed. See it as a disease, as a tumor, as a dart, as misery, as really misery. Those who see it thus see rightly. When there if feeling ... When there is perception ... When there are volitional formations ... When there is consciousness, Radha, there might be Mara, or the killer, or the one who is killed."

The Buddha is telling Radha that the Five Aggregates are, essentially, Mara the Evil One. If, according, to the Buddhists on this Buddhist forum, we are nothing more than Mara the Evil One, then the practice of Buddhism can offer us nothing. Salvation is out of the question. For what is other than Mara?

To be saved implies something to be saved; something more than an aggregated killing machine of a devil. In fact, the being who is to be saved is entangled in Mara's killing machine who is in a state of profound delusion; who believes he is only the Five Aggregates! He doesn't realize that he is not anyone of these deadly, evil aggregates.

In light of this, what is the logical thing to teach this person? It would have to be this: "You are not the Five Aggregates. Your true self is not anyone of them." And doesn't the Buddha teach exactly this?

"There is the case, monk, where a well-instructed disciple of the noble ones -- who has regard for nobles ones, is well-versed & disciplined in their Dhamma; who has regard for men of integrity, is well-versed & disciplined in their Dhamma -- does not assume form to be the self, or the self as possessing form, or form as in the self, or the self as in form. He does not assume feeling to be the self... does not assume perception to be the self... does not assume fabrications to be the self... He does not assume consciousness to be the self, or the self as possessing consciousness, or consciousness as in the self, or the self as in consciousness" (M.iii.18).

Without this understanding, viz., that we essentially are not the Five Mara Aggregates of form, feeling, perception, fabrications, and consciousness, it follows that salvation is impossible. But with proper practice, having the faith that we are not the Five Aggregates, we can eventually extract ourselves from this death-dealing machine seeing it, according to the Buddha, to be like foam, a bubble, a mirage, a coreless plantain tree, and a juggler's creation.

Now, in all candor, who are these senior Buddhists on this forum who believe there is nothing beyond the Five Aggregates? Are they minions of Mara the Evil One? Surely they must be for they teach the unwary to be content with the Five Aggregates of Mara the Evil One of which there is nothing beyond!

The actual

According to Yâska (circa 500 B.C.E.), who wrote the hermeneutical work, Nirukta, the term atman is derived from at (meaning, to seek), or âp (meaning, to obtain, or to complete). Together one gets the clear impression that atman means “actualize” as to be actual as opposed to unreality. As regards atman being a kind of absolute Self, it seems not to be used in this sense, although it often is. The Buddha it seems is closer to Yâska’s atman (in Pali attâ). In the Five Aggregate scheme of Buddhism, each of the aggregates, under Yâska’s notion of atman is not the actual (an-attâ). The aggregates can be thought of as attributes lacking any reality. This is an extremely important consideration for it gets us away from the debate of self vs. not-self which is an argument among Buddhists that can’t be resolved. What is pertinent is whether or not phenomena are actual. Then we must ask, are we actual? If so, then how do we realize the actual from what is not?

Rebirth and death

When beginners ask what undergoes rebirth they often have the self or atman in mind. Generally speaking, in Buddhism, what transmigrates from one being to the next is mind (citta) in which determinate consciousness (vijnana), in the case of humans, connects with a fertilized ovum. Now embodied in the womb, consciousness uses as its reference point the developing fetus which falls within the category of the Five Aggregates. Consciousness, thus, enters into dependent origination which is the opposite of nirvana.

According to the commentarial literature (MA.ii.310) a being to be born, called in Pali “gandhabba”, enters the womb according to its specific karma. In essence, the acquiring consciousness (vijnana), to be born, has to resonate with the DNA of the fertilized ovum. The process is a kind of tuning process in which consciousness tunes into the adequate ovum entering another existence; subjecting itself to countless modifications and suffering.

As we might infer from all of this, there is no escape from the cycles of rebirth insofar as our own consciousness desires to continually reestablish itself in the triple world, being heavily enchanted with it. Rebirth ceases only when consciousness links with pure Mind which is empty of distinguishing marks, infinite, and shining everywhere. In fine, consciousness becomes unconditioned because it has not fixed itself to the conditioned.

Since consciousness takes up what it rests on as might a clear jewel when placed on a white or black place, for example, it stands to reason that consciousness should be free from rebirth if linked with the unconditioned pure Mind. On the other hand, if consciousness has neither seen nor realized this pure Mind, like in the previous example of the clear jewel, it will establish itself in many possible kinds of defiled minds depending upon its karmic propensity.

However, this is not so with a blessed person. In the Maharatnakuta Sutra the Buddha said that “when a blessed, virtuous person is dying and his consciousness departs, he is peaceful and unaware of his death; he passes away fearlessly as if he were dreaming.” The blessed person is fearless because his consciousness resonates with the pure Mind which is beyond the pale of death. The subsequent transition from the carnal body to a transcendent body, during death, is without change or break.

Greatness of self

In the pure removing, the Buddhas have always found a way by their non-self, obtaining the purity of the self (shuddhâtmâ) and arriving at the greatness of self (mahâtmâ). — Mahâyânasûtralamkara IX, 23

It is by removing what is not the greatness of self that the remover returns to itself which is the purity of the self (shuddha-atma). What is not the self is, of course, the Five Aggregates which are also synonymous with the Buddhist devil, Mara. These aggregates are really just attributes in the same way waves are the attribute of water which are not essential to the nature of water, itself.

The practice of removing, the via negativa, assumes that the remover is drawing nearer to its true identity and will eventually resonate (samadhi) with it.

The world around us and our birth body, which is coordinate with it, make up the complete realm of the Five Aggregates. This is what is to be removed. As beings or sattvas, we are entrained to this grand illusion. We have no way of extracting ourselves by a fiat of the will. If someone decides to cut off our head, terror overwhelms us because of our attachment to the birth body.

If, on the other hand, we have already identified with the unconditioned purity of self, which transcends both the world and our birth body, our fear subsides. Upon our death our spiritual body (manomaykaya), being free, attains everlasting independence. Yet, we don't enter into any blanked-out state or some huge black hole. We have simply been freed from depending on the conditioned finite world of nature. We are, thus, at once in paraloka, or the higher world which is blissful (sukha); that is the world of Amitabha Buddha (the Buddha of immeasurable light).

Spiritual body

Thatness (tathata), Emptiness (shunyata), Reality-limit (bhuta-koti), Nirvana, Dharma Substrata (dharmadhatu) are like the multiple bodies made of spirit (manomaya-kaya)—these are taught as being synonymous (prayaya). — Lankavatara Sagathakam

This is quite a statement. It should be carefully noted that all these terms have positive implications as does even the term "emptiness". But for the unwary Zen student, whose mind is beclouded with his suppositions of what Zen is supposed to be, this means almost nothing. This pericope from the Lankavatara Sutra means, however, more than any careless Zen student can imagine.

It is of great importance if we are going to reach the other shore. We can't remain on this shore, running along side of it, fooling ourselves, imagining that we have reached the other shore if we stand with our backs towards the wide ocean of samsara we have to cross.

Thatness, Emptiness...Nirvana, Dharma Substrata are just other names of that divine world that lies across the wide ocean of samsara. They have no reference to this world—the world many Zennists still hold dear, hoping to find enlightenment in the external formalisms of Zen such as zazen (i.e., sitting Zen).

This divine world—yonder shore—is really a spiritual body that lies within us which is naturally unyoked from the mortal body. About this body, the Buddha says the following in the Samaññaphala Sutta of the Digha-Nikaya:

"From this body he creates another body, endowed with form, made of the mind, complete in all its parts, not inferior in its faculties. Just as if a man were to draw a reed from its sheath. The thought would occur to him: 'This is the sheath, this is the reed. The sheath is one thing, the reed another, but the reed has been drawn out from the sheath.' Or as if a man were to draw a sword from its scabbard. The thought would occur to him: 'This is the sword, this is the scabbard. The sword is one thing, the scabbard another, but the sword has been drawn out from the scabbard.' Or as if a man were to pull a snake out from its slough. The thought would occur to him: 'This is the snake, this is the slough. The snake is one thing, the slough another, but the snake has been pulled out from the slough.' In the same way—with his mind thus concentrated, purified, and bright, unblemished, free from defects, pliant, malleable, steady, and attained to imperturbability, the monk directs and inclines it to creating a mind-made body (manomaya-kaya). From this body he creates another body, endowed with form, made of the mind, complete in all its parts, not inferior in its faculties."

What is striking about the above passage is that we see direct evidence of a transcendent body in scripture that is free from the Five Aggregates. In this particular passage, the Buddha is teaching the acquisition of this supra body after clearly distinguishing the carnal body made up of the four great elements, born of mother and father, subsisting on food, etc., upon which consciousness is bound in dependence (cp. D.i.76).

This spiritual body lies, metaphorically speaking, on the other shore which is only found when we depart from the carnal body consisting of the Five Aggregates (form, sensation, thought, experience, and consciousness). To begin to access this supra body we have to peel back the layers mind constructions that make up our subjecthood to which we are attached. We will eventually reach a limit where both subject and object are eclipsed (i.e., the internal and external world). It is from this limit (bhuta-koti) that we disengage from our carnal body and the data of the natural world which streams through it. It is only here that real emancipation is to be found.

Engrossed in secular pursuits

The secularization of religion, that falls under the rubric of 'accommodationism', is not just a modern phenomenon. It could very well be the disease of any religion in which the spiritual light or, the same, pure Mind, it was originally meant to teach, has been lost (or hopelessly misplaced).

For Zen, its secularization probably began sometime after the Sixth Patriarch Hui-neng. There was a growing weakness in religious Zen leading to its eventual secularization in which the pursuit of status and a powerful following become of paramount importance. As a consequence, the subject of pure Mind (cittamatra), that is, the flame that is transmitted, was all but forgotten.

Nobody, who is the member of a modern day Zen center will admit this, of course. They are so engrossed in the secular pursuit of Zen and making a career of it, they are clueless as to the original intent or purpose of Zen or dhyana (contemplation).

But surely something was transmitted to the great masters of antiquity and is still transmittable according to the lore of Zen. And it should be fairly obvious that what this something is, that is transmitted, cannot be a mind sullied by passions; hot with secular ambition. Nor can it be the mind of samvriti which falsely appears as subject (the aware) and object. It can only be the pure Mind that is singular (eka) without parts.

But this is a difficult path to follow for the goal which is reached is beyond ordinary human concepts and reckoning. It is a path, moreover, that is not a temporal path. In this wise, it does not lead to some kind of grand rationalization or psychological state. These are the false cities—only rest stops—on the way to the Isle of Jewels according to the Lotus Sutra (cp. Chapter VII). The real goal is the pure Mind that is consubstantial with Buddhahood. It is no wonder, therefore, that religions often give way to being secularized—even the very best. It is difficult to awaken. To find the Isle of Jewels one must be exceptional and mature who no longer finds joy in this world but rather finds joy in the pursuit of the transcendent.