The Zennist

Just too lazy

There is not much point in explaining the Buddha’s teaching to someone who leaves their front door open in the summer; who then complains about the flies in his house—and won’t clean out the barn which is full of cow manure.  This guy doesn’t want to screen his porch or clean out his barn.  This guy is looking for a panacea, that is, a cure-all whereby he won’t have to labor very much.

In the world of religion there are plenty of people like this.  They, too, are looking for a panacea in order to avoid the hard labor of repairing their being so it can withstand the vicissitudes of life and attain some measure of confidence that they are more than the sum of their anatomy.  This panacea is the belief in a merciful god or a savior who will save them the labor of reforming themselves.  Like the guy mentioned earlier who leaves his door open then complains about the flies, those who believe in god or a savior are lazy.  They complain that they have too many other important things to do.  In this regard, it is much easier for them to turn their lives over to some preacher or priest—or believe in some ridiculous tale of a second coming (e.g., Maitreya or Jesus).

The avoidance of spiritual labor, that is, the indifference to the reformation of one’s being, is something people, in general, find easy to do.  Rationalizations are easy to come by.  Such people are still infatuated with the ordinary world.  They still believe that its reality is the true one.  This is why they cling tenaciously to their possessions, friends and family.  

It hasn’t dawned on these people that the animative principle of their body, which the Buddha uncovered, is the only true panacea.  It, so to speak, is god, or the savior that will deliver beings from their misery— but only if they turn to this animative principle.  In the example of the guy who leaves his front door open; who will not clean out the manure in his barn which is a breeding ground of flies, the savior is a fountain of enthusiasm that finds him one day screening his front porch and cleaning out the barn.  

This savior (i.e., the animative principle) comes from within which leads us to fundamentally change our relationship with the outside world.  By being more and more in accord with it we come to see the intrinsic harmony and goodness of the universe.  On the same note, we realize that suffering has a cause—it just doesn’t come out of the blue by accident. 

Words, paper and brush

Around the T’ang dynasty (618–906), generally speaking, three qualities were required to become a noteworthy Buddhist monk of high recognition.  First, one had to be extremely pious, strictly following the Vinaya (discipline) observing all of the monastic regula.  Secondly, one had to have memorized a great number of Buddhist Sutras and Shastras (treatises).  Then lastly, one had to be able to understand and lecture on the Sutras demonstrating their ability to clarify difficult subjects.  

While on the surface it is difficult to fault such a system, Zen proved to be skeptical of it although Zen masters were, themselves, also monk-scholars.  

With the rise of Zen realization (siddhanta) in China, which had no primary interest in “words, paper, and brush”, a tension began to develop and grow between Buddhist monks who were chiefly committed to literary practices, and those who were committed to mysticism seeking to comprehend the so-called "dark principle".  This principle was none other than the personal experience of Mind as a pure animative power and intelligence—hence, the idea of the "Mind—to—Mind transmission" of Zen. 

Zen realization understood that a literary understanding of Buddhism through the Sutras and the commentarial literature was insufficient to trigger illumination (bodhi).  More was required of the monk.  He or she had to walk a transcendent path which led to a kind of Buddhist baptism or anointing (abhisheka).  By this, one became truly a disciple of the Buddha who was then fit, as a genuine Bodhisattva, to become a Buddha.  

Divinatory thinking

Is thinking permitted in the quest for Zen satori? Are we to understand that Zen satori comes by way of a special kind of psychic osmosis in which case thinking is unnecessary? Are we to take, literately, the words of Zen master Niu-t’ou Fa-jang who said, “Thinking brings unclarity”? 

Lumping the questions together, thinking is permitted in Zen—but rather, it is a special kind of thinking which I call 'divinatory thinking'.  Let me unpack the idea of what I mean by divinatory thinking.  While it seems easy to understand the general notion of thinking, or at least some forms of thinking such as ‘deliberation’, ‘calculation’, ‘reflection’, etc., the notion of divinatory thinking is not in these categories.  Rather it is thinking which is on a path of discovery moving from a state of ignorance or better still, moving from primordial lost-ness to a state of finding-ness in which awakening occurs as a result.  

We might consider as a good example, somebody looking for something precious and valuable they've lost like their wedding ring.  Analyzing this kind of thinking, its trajectory is not so much aimed at thinking about the object it desires, but seeks to have it concretely.  In other words, when I look for my lost wedding ring, thinking about it mentally and abstractly is less important than actually finding the real, concrete ring. 

The critical principle of divinatory thinking, which is necessary to make it work, requires that we really have a burning need to find truth in which the task of finding it becomes almost a matter of life and death.  As it is easy to see, this moving principle is more than idle curiosity which questions, but not at a depth sufficient to engage the drive of divinatory thinking.  

Delving into the trait of curiosity a bit further, curiosity is thinking in which the chief interest is novelty and information gathering.  In no case does it rise above our general satisfaction with ourselves as beings who already find solace in the everyday world and its offerings.  In another aspect, curiosity will not cause an upheaval in our being, whereas divinatory thinking ultimately does lead to a profound change.  

Only divinatory thinking can help us find our Buddha-nature.  But more importantly, only divinatory thinking can walk the path of Buddhism.  At the heart of divinatory thinking, it arouses almost an obsession for finding.

The ant and the grasshopper

The present state of the economy reminds me of an Aesop fable, The Ant and the Grasshopper.  The grasshopper struck by the ant's resolve to lay up food for the long winter asked the ant, "Why bother about the winter? It's summer and we have plenty of food."  The ant said not a word but continued on his way and continued to toil.  Finally, when winter came the grasshopper found itself dying of hunger.  The ant lived.

This fable also has intellectual and spiritual implications which are, especially, pertinent for America's hedonistic culture.  The fable also warns us that a society cannot long thrive on the idealism of greedily consume now and pay later.  In a word or two, we must always prepare for economic winters by learning to live within our means.  We must also avoid subscribing to a grasshopper economic model built upon consumption and credit.  

Addressing the spiritual implication of this fable, we can’t know spiritual liberation and wisdom by enjoying materialism, forgetting to lay up vast stores of spiritual wealth so that our next rebirth will not be fraught with unbearable suffering.  

On this same score, we must also keep in mind that we are reborn into our unresolved errors (i.e., avidya).  It is incorrect to believe otherwise, viz., that we are reborn into what goodness or good intentions we might imagine to have attained.  In fact, every new birth is birth into a degree of spiritual inadequacy that can range from being a god to a demon.  Our present body, for example, is an inadequate representation of the spiritual body that is replete with thirty-two perfect marks.  In any view, we have to start thinking more like spiritual ants laying up stores of spiritual wealth.  The grasshopper days are gone.  Winter is upon us.

Dangerous believers

Religion in the modern world is more than often based on belief.  Belief can be understood as vehement adherence to dogma or fantasy that is supported by invincible ignorance.  In light of this, religion is more of a mental disorder than a way or a method intended to reveal to the wayfarer that part of them which is deathless and unchanging in sharp contrast with the temporal body and the world they inhabit which is under suffering.

It almost goes without saying, but religion is supposed to be the science of our true being—in the Buddhist lexicon, our Buddha-nature.  This is why it is stupid and backwards for religion to descend into belief, which it obviously has.  We see evidence of this in religious fundamentalism which tries to muscle its way into the sanctuary of the human soul where true religion (saddharma) has it beginning.

On another note, it is easy to see why we should never discuss either politics or religion in public life because half the people are probably so-called “true believers” who take pride in their invincible ignorance; who wouldn’t think twice about shifting to the invincible use of physical force.  Indeed, when an irrational concept based on fantasy takes hold of the human heart like some kind of poison, it only has one way to go and that is by means of violence—either covertly or overtly.

In whatever manner some wish to hide the truth about belief, with few exceptions, it is synonymous with fanaticism in which the emotions rule instead of reason and wisdom.  In the course of modern religious history we can’t think of outstanding examples in which belief has turned into reason and wisdom.  Indeed, the believer is never prudent.  In fact, reason in some cases is inverted to provided a veneer of support for belief which gives rise to rationalization (Vilfredo Pareto).  On this same track, I would argue that belief and rationalization, combined, make up the essential sauce of ideology which, to use Napoleon's apt expression, is for “dangerous dreamers”.

It is tempting for me to digress and comment on many of today’s religionists, including those who support laissez faire economics, as being dangerous dreamers.  To be blunt—they are dangerous dreamers.  And this should be of great concern for those who practice true religion which reveals the animative spirit, and those who want to apply the lessons of history to matters of the state and economics.  But the way is blocked by the believers.

A shabby suit of clothes

As I see it, spending all of one's time in meditation by following one’s breath and/or bodily functions has to be a complete waste of time.  I really can't see how, in principle, such meditational exercises, as they are presented by various monk-writers, etc., in books too numerous to count, do justice to the Buddha's true teachings.  

Meditatively attending to the psychophysical body (skandha) is not, one day, suddenly going to make us a Buddha!  We can understand this if we think of the psychophysical body as being like a shabby suit of clothes which by force of wrong habit we've learned to call "myself".  Cleaning our suit or patching it up is not going to reveal the real body which it covers and hides.  If we are to see our true body, which in Tibetan Buddhism is called "naked seeing", we have to take off our suit of clothes!  

From the aforementioned, it stands to reason that in the practice of Buddhist meditation we should identify with "what" we truly are—not with what we are not.  In a word, we are not this psychophysical suit of clothes.  We are not the breath, either, or any part of the body.  In fact, we are thoroughly prior to this cheap suit of ours.  

To engage in proper meditation is to remember (sati) that we are spiritually anterior the body which is posterior.  The heart of Buddhist meditation bids us to tap into the anterior animative principle of the body before it converts into the psychophysical suit of clothes which is a consequence of karma.  

A good conversation

Yesterday, I was talking with one of the owners of the health food store I have been going to for a number of years.  The discussion somehow led to dreaming and then to the 1970s, in particular, Swami Rajneesh whose nickname was the "sex guru".  During our discussion I brought up the fact that I had once known Rajneesh's go-to guy,"Swami T", who told me one of Rajneesh's greatest vexations was that he was bald which is why he is always seen wearing a wool cap.  We both had a good laugh.

Then I decided to jump to the topic of how much we cling to the "flesh" and by doing so forsake acquaintance with the animative light of Mind (citta), this light being who we really are, which is deathless—and certainly immune to the worries of baldness!  

I pointed out that this light is higher than even the God most of the inhabitants of earth believe in.  As I see it, God has too many interpreters who have conflicting interpretations.  One person's idea of God, to be sure, is different from the view of another—enough even, to invite a war between the two!  On the other hand, that which animates all living things is the same for all.  To realize it, first one has to give up clinging to the animate as if it were the means to truth. 

I ended the conversation by saying that this was the Buddha's central discovery who understood that this supermundane light could be met with by anyone, in this lifetime, if they first reasoned that something more than calories animates them. We left the conversation there. 

Enlightened seduction

Goodness, it is amazing to know what lengths the Bodhisattvas will go to convert the heathen!  Yesterday, I received an out of print copy of the Shuramgamasamadhi Sutra (not to be confused with the Chinese Shuramgama Sutra), otherwise in English entitled, The Concentration of Heroic Progress Sutra.  Thumbing through it, I came upon something that tickled my funny bone.  

It seems that Bodhisattva Maragocaranupalipta (an obvious reference to the place of Mara the Evil One who tempted the Buddha) decided to seduce some lustful daughters of the gods called, Devakanyas.  The Bodhisattva by showing his beautiful body to the lustful Devakanyas hoped to convert them to the Buddha’s teaching.  Just as he suspected, they went for his gorgeous body.  

Seeing his body, the Devakanyas said, “If that man makes love to us, we will all comply with his orders.”  The Bodhisattva possessing supermundane senses could see that they were ripe for conversion having the requisite conditions for being delivered.  After he sized up the minds of the two hundred Devakanyas “he also created two hundred magnificent belveders for intimacy.”  

Thereupon the Devakanyas found themselves sexually engaged with the Bodhisattva after which their desires were thoroughly gratified and their craving for sensual pleasures quenched.  After their conversion it is said that they honored the  Bodhisattva who expounded the teachings that were suitable for them in order to arouse complete Bodhicitta (awakening to the animative power of pure Mind).

What I take from this is that mind or citta, in its primordial non-knowledge of itself, is raw desire, that is, incompletion (avidya).  Such desire can only be fully quenched by mind experiencing itself, purely (cittamatra) in which mind realizes Mind.

Spiritual democracy

Buddhism is democratic insofar as it recognizes that all beings have the same potential to awaken to the pure Mind thus becoming Buddha.  Buddhahood is nothing more than Mind experiencing Mind as purely itself in which it stands on its own as the absolute positive medium of all.  Difference, disunity, and selfishness fall on the side of Mind’s non-cognition of itself—the undemocratic resisting individuum.  

In order to maintain the world of individuality we have to forsake any hope of awakening (Buddha).  We have to reject, in other words, our Buddha-nature becoming, instead, the votaries of Mara the Evil One where the repetition of the cycle of birth and death are our lot, although some vehemently deny that there is anything beyond death.  

This, by the way, is where the modern world stands in which death is treated as an entrance into finality since it is believed that man is less than the sum of his body which in death disintegrates returning to spacial indifference.

Can we say that the true essence of democracy has no real power in the modern world which is tied to the furtherance of the individual by means of materialism?  Perhaps we can.  Most people are only looking out for their own skins and could not care less about a spiritual commonality through Mind’s animative power that gives life to all.  Such people are the plutocrats who believe that those with the most material goods should rule.  In fact, it is the only measure they know, namely, how much wealth one has or doesn’t have.  Also, this leads to a simplistic kind of morality which is hardly moral:  good people are those who have more material goods and advantage whereas not so good people have less and are, therefore, to be treated accordingly as possible deviants.

By seeing, as the Buddha did, that all beings are animates of pure Mind which is above difference and individuality, there can be no legitimate rule except one which is spiritually democratic or at least dedicated to this principle.

Yet, the realpolitik is that democracy has no real power in the modern world since those who are strongly tied to materialism and the individual view the world differently.  Collectively, we don’t openly wish to admit this, but plutodemocracy is precisely the form of governance the modern world maintains that lays under Western civilization.  As we might expect, man is not regarded as a spiritual animal but, instead, is regarded as an economic one so that the fruits of civilization must, therefore, be economic.  

How, therefore, can the democratic spirit live in harmony with the plutocratic pursuit of life?  This is an interesting question.  But the answer must be that there can be no harmony between the two.  But if truth is to be our judge, spirit rules the body and so must the commonality of life’s animative spirit in all the people (demos) rule the state.  This means that the state should be dedicated to the implementation and preservation of the necessary conditions that make possible the study of spirit.  This means, also, that a society should be based on noble leisure (Grk. scholê)—not materialism which is the struggle for wealth based on goods.

Verbal muscling

Maybe it’s my imagination, but I see too much pushiness in the world today.  Such gentle coercion, if we may call it that for now, is really about verbal muscularity somewhat like the kind you see in a military boot camp but more subtle.  

Everyday, it seems we are verbally pushed by sales people, the doctor, or our family members and friends, not to mention management in the work place.  Again, such pushiness is emotionally driven and, for the most part, irrational.  For the one receiving the butt of it, it feels muscular—it makes us tense.  

When I think about such pushiness it always has a connection with the muscles.  The pushy person has restrained themselves from using physical force, yet their body is  rigid and aggressive.  The muscles in their face are tensed up, etc.  Women notice this more than men.  They are keenly aware of the muscularity that can be behind the word.  Worth adding, in the 18th and 19th century sweat shops of England, where mothers and children worked, violence was behind every word.  A child could be beaten by the foreman in front of their mother for failing to obey or not doing their job right.  Modern pushiness in the work place is just an extension of this only not as severe.

Today, there is a certain amount of muscularity in religion with regard to proselytizing.  As Buddhists, we often feel like we are being muscled by Christians making sure that we show their religion a great deal of respect which is not often reciprocated.  To be sure, Buddhism is not given the same pride of place as is Christianity or Judaism.  

I think it can be argued that many of the popular religions have aggressively muscled their way into our lives that really don’t deserve to be there.  In fact, I would contend that if religion has to become verbally muscular it has ceased being an authentic religion.  It a word, such a religion has become a cult—a cult being predominately about verbally muscling someone into following a particular dogma, a dogma being belief without reason.  If anyone saw the recent movie, Jesus Camp, this is an excellent example of not only a cult but of the meaning of verbal muscling in religion:  pushiness to the maximum.  In the movie, children were verbally muscled by adults into conforming to a particular view of Christianity; who were cognitively immature and should have been playing outdoors making mud pies, instead.

In fact, I would go so far as to say the predominately fundamentalist types of religions employ verbal muscling on children leading up to severe corporeal punishment—all in the name of God or Allah.  It even goes on in Buddhism as described by Tashi Tsering in his autobiography, The Struggle for Modern Tibet.

"I was going to be lashed across my bare buttocks with long thin switches made from tree branches. This centuries old Tibetan punishment was the most painful kind of beating. It was based, I suppose, on the idea that fear and pain make people work harder and obey better. I was terrified in anticipation of the pain I knew was coming."

Such abuse in religion is nothing new under the sun.  And yes, it even goes on in Buddhism, the religion of compassion.  Worth adding, when the chief of the Nez Perce Indians came to the white man’s camp to talk of peace, he happened to pass by a soldier beating a child.  Filled with righteous contempt for what he saw, he said: 

"There is no point in talking peace with barbarians.  What could you say to a man who would strike a child?" 

The great chief then turned his horse around and led his party away from the barbarians.

The reason why verbal muscling is often used is because there is a lack of good communication skills, inner calm, and convincing reasons.  As regards reason, a “why” is altogether lacking.  On this note, one doesn’t have to be verbally coercive to get people to quickly exit a burning building—but they have to be verbally coercive if they are trying to keep people inside of it!  When people are given true freedom they, invariably, go to where there is peace, kindness, reason, and wisdom.  What should strike us in our modern age is that it is too coercive in which a spectrum of verbal muscling is allowed all the way up to corporeal punishment.  Apart from this, there is neither much reason, wisdom, nor compassion.