The Zennist

Cutting through

A question worth asking: if all phenomena lack inherent existence being, instead, illusory superimpositions (abhutaparikalpita) on pure Mind, that is to say, are productions of pure consciousness (vijñaptimatra), how does one go about cutting through the superimposition to see pure Mind?

Again, taking it for granted from the Lankavatara Sutra, the original Sutra of early Zen, that the manifold kinds of transformations that come under the heading of ‘phenomena’ are simply waves in the ocean of mind, it seems an almost impossible task to distinguish the gold from the brass, so to speak.  Being ourselves a physical phenomenon (the wave) where is the higher of our being which is pure Mind?  

What seems to be missing for those taking up the path is an initiation into a lightning bolt experience of pure Mind—enough to realize that this is what is getting transformed into a phenomenon including a simple thought.  

While it is entertaining to pursue Buddhist metaphysics, it is a thousand times better to get the lightning bolt initiation or, if you prefer, dip one’s toe into the ocean of mind.  I mean, isn’t this what we are all really seeking?  When we hear of a great teacher who may give an empowerment aren’t we really wishing for that lightning charge?

Those who take up Buddhist metaphysics, I am sure, must wish to become baptized with even a tiny lightning bolt.

But getting back to our original question of how do we cut through the thick slab of phenomenal superimposition, it is safe to say that we must begin our path with our own thoughts.  This is where it is easiest to begin and cut through—and get zapped.

We have to envision our thoughts as water-like vortices and change our habit of just seeing the shape (rupa) and proceed to look for the substance.  We also have to envision that this water is utterly invisible and immaterial it is not a vortex.  Then we have to face our everyday world as being a three dimensional field of vortices—then look for that special water.  This is the way you cut through.

Dogma and paradox

Most people who are drawn to Buddhism don’t realize that Buddhism is taught almost without any coherence unless, of course, there is some sage the public hasn’t discovered who is teaching Buddhism as the Buddha taught it.  

This doesn’t mean that there isn’t a lot of information that makes up the subject of Buddhism.  There is, in fact, a great deal of information.  But a lot of it is historical.  And certainly, when it comes to the Buddha’s message, itself, a great deal of information about Buddhism is conjectural and confusing.   

What takes the place of coherence is often dogma and paradox so that the systematic relationship between what the Buddha was really aiming at and the practice for getting there is tenuous at best.  What is missing with such incoherence is, therefore, meaning.  This is aggravated even more when everyone is adding their own meaning to Buddhism which can often set the stage for logomachy, that is, a battle between possible meanings (which, by the way, can only be resolved by dhyana/contemplation).  This is evident in Buddhist Internet discussion groups.

On a final note, there is fairly compelling evidence that the Buddha was not, himself, a systemizer like Shankaracharya, for example, who some argue logically proved that the doctrine of non-duality, i.e., advaitavada, is at the heart of the Upanishads.  The Buddha, himself, did not delve into metaphysics but developed, instead, a profound via negativa coupled with an innovative praxis of relinquishing our identification with the corporeal instrument (satkaya) of our birth so that we might see reality (dharmadhatu) stripped away of our human concepts—free from conditioning corporeal interference (asrava). 

Subtle mindfulness

What made the Buddha's illumination or awakening possible was dhyana (ch’an; zen), although even the fourth dhyana is not the highest attainment (cp. D.i.38).  The initial method the Buddha used was anapranasmriti (mindfulness of prana/respiration).  He gives a detailed exposition of it in the Majjhima-Nikaya (Sutta 118).  Depending on how far the student wishes to go with anapranasmriti it can reach the transcendent or it can be deployed psychologically as a means of coping with neurosis.

Finding a teacher who is capable of teaching anapranasmriti which can help us cope with life's ups and downs is fairly easy.  On the other hand, finding a teacher who can introduce us to using anapranasmriti to achieve dhyana is certainly much more difficult.  

It happened to be the case in China, that even before Bodhidharma set foot in Southern China around 475, there were skilled dhyana teachers (i.e.,  Zen masters), many of whom were originally from India.  They were extraordinary individuals.  One notable dhyana teacher was named Buddhabhadra who learned dhyana from the accomplished master, Buddhasena, who resided in Kashmir. 

It almost goes without saying, but the introduction to anapranasmriti, in order to achieve dhyana, is much more subtle than just sitting on a cushion learning to follow one’s breath.  The commentaries, in fact, paint a more precise picture of anapranasmriti than the one commonly portrayed in modern Buddhist literature as being aware of one's respiration by resting the mind ‘around the mouth’ or on the 'tip of the nose'.  

In the more advanced practice, as was probably taught in Bodhidharma’s time, one is mindful (smriti), mindful in the sense of being before or surrounding (pratimukha) respiration, including the nervous system, so that one eventually experiences the whole body (not just parts or sections of it) in front of one’s mind, as it were, being apart from it in the sense of disembodying.  This is extremely subtle.

Religion: verbal and psychological

If all that we manage to accomplish in Buddhism or, for that matter, any religion, is a new vocabulary and a relative modification of our psychological disposition and behavior, we haven't really accomplished much of anything.  True religion (saddharma) goes beyond words and psychology.  

If we think about it, often acquiring a new vocabulary only makes us better at playing word games while learning a new behavior only helps us to adjust more amiably with those around us.  What is lacking is fundamental change, realizing that we are not actually tied to this human organism which is like a transitory biological mirror in which, interiorized, we see a false self (anatman).

What separates a sage like the Buddha from an ordinary person is that the latter is under the delusion of embodiment.  They believe they are an interiorized self (anatman).  A sage is not under such a delusion.  The sage lives mysteriously disembodied.  And this brings us to the real mission of religion: it teaches us to see things as they actually are (yathabhutam), in an absolute sense, instead of seeing them narrowly (hina) from a limited human condition.

It can certainly be argued that primarily due to the efforts of ordinary people (prithagjana), who have taken over religion, its transformative mission has been largely dumbed down and overly psychologized.  It is made to serve the needs of mundanity, especially with regard to serving its psychological needs.  As a result of this hijacking, true religion is effectively killed and access to fundamental transformation is denied.

Yet, the proliferation of modern religion continues which is, essentially, verbal and psychological.  Each new religion has a new vocabulary and a new set of behaviors.  There is a creed and a pious religious show carried out with a great deal of seriousness but nothing comes of it that is transformative: that we should win nirvana, being sufficiently detached from the tyranny of the physical body.