The Zennist

Chinese Zen

In China, regarding the identity of the Zen or Ch’an school, it is distinguished only by the Zen transmission lineage.  This is because in China there is no special ordination for Zennists. One is simply ordained a Buddhist monk or nun of no particular sect (this is different in Japan). (In the U.S. some who claim they’re following a Zen tradition because they’ve received the typical Chinese monastic ordination, don’t seem to understand how Chinese Buddhism works.) 

As Buddhist scholars point out, going back to the Sung Dynasty and even today, the huge majority of monks and nuns in China were not affiliated with any particular Buddhist school.  Still a tradition in China, the key to becoming a member of the Zen lineage, eventually receiving the seal of transmission from a Zen master, is first to become his personal disciple.  It is not in error to say that this is not an easy task as compared with becoming a monk or a nun.  

As for the importance of the Zen transmission, in order to become the abbot of a designated Zen monastery, one had to be first transmitted.  In other words, the special importance of the Zen transmission is only meaningful and advantageous for someone wanting to become the abbot of a large public Ch’an monastery.  Also, it is important to understand that “Ch’an monastery” did not mean the huge majority of monks and nuns, including lay people, who practiced at this monastery received Zen transmission.  Far from it.

Zen in North America and Europe is not like Chinese Ch’an/Zen.  One is first ordained a Zennist who then follows a Zen regimen of meditation (zazen) and koans.  Basically, to be blunt, this is a pile of bovine manure.  Minus the Zen transmission, which begins with Mahakasyapa who, according to the Avatamsaka Sutra, is not capable of perpetuating the lineage of Buddhas, there is nothing special about Zen institutions. 

The only authentic transmission is Mind to Mind, not teacher to student.  If certification is further required then, as I used to say years ago, find a leaf with a bird shit seal on it.  Of course you might do what Dogen did, forge your own certificate. 

Where there is smoke there is fire

 That there are many problems in the world and much suffering, only means that their are degrees of ignorant people in the world who have no idea what is happening; nor do they know about themselves and the true nature of reality. 

Religion is where some of these people hide who have not awakened to the true nature of reality.  Materialism is another place ignorant people hide who have a limited intelligence.  What these people have in common is a closed mind, and little if any faith (sraddha) to realize that where there is smoke there is also fire. 

The world in front of us is the smoke including our psychophysical bodies (the five skandhas consisting of physical shape, feeling, perception, volitional formations, and consciousness).  If we had sufficient faith we would acknowledge there is something profound behind all of this phenomenal smoke that is not smoke but, instead, fire, i.e., the true substance of reality.  (After the Buddha’s enlighenment he entered into tejodhâtu-samadhi or fire-element samadhi.)  But alas, many of us are stubborn to the bone; hard to correct who kick at the goad.  We mistake our sickness for enlightenment, and poison for the cure.  About this condition there is an important parabale in the Lotus Sutra named, The Physician's Sons (chapter 16). This is a synopsis from Robert K.C. Forman’s book, The Innate Capacity.

"The sons of a wise and competent physician get into his medicine cabinet while he is away and make themselves ill by taking drugs. The physician returns and begins to prepare antidotes. The children who are mildly affected take them and are cured, but the seriously ill children are deranged and will not accept the treatment. The physician goes away again, leaving the remedies with his children, with instructions on how to take them. Later, he sends word that he has died, and the children, shocked with grief and feeling abandoned, take the medicine and are cured. The physician returns, and his children welcome him. Here, the physician is the Buddha; the mildly ill children are disciples; the seriously ill children are nonpractitioners; the drugs are the passions; the antidotes are the Buddhist teachings; and restoration to health is liberation." 

The unmanifest Tathagata

When the Tathagata manifests himself into this world we see him, perhaps, as some old guy with more fingers on his hands than teeth in his head. Like Gautama, he might be flatulent; his lower back aching most of the time.  No one would recognize him as the Tathagata.  He would not fall into a worldling's idea of what a Buddha is supposed to look like or how he is supposed to behave.  The manifested Tathagata, we could say, is much different than the Tathagata before he manifests himself into this corrupt world.  From the Vimalakirti Nirdesa Sutra, which has been translated by Charles Luk, here is the unmanifest Tathagata.

 “I see the Tathagata did not come in the past, will not go in the future, and does not stay in the present. The Tathagata is seen neither in form (rupa, the first aggregate) nor in the extinction of form nor in the underlying nature of form. Neither is He seen in responsiveness (vedana), conception (sampan), discrimination (samskara) and consciousness (vijnana) (i.e. the four other aggregates), their extinction and their underlying natures. The Tathagata is not created by the four elements (earth, water, fire and air), for He is (immaterial) like space. He does not come from the union of the six entrances (i.e. the six sense organs) for He is beyond eye, ear, nose, tongue, body and intellect. He is beyond the three worlds (of desire, form and formlessness) for He is free from the three defilements (desire, hate and stupidity). He is in line with the three gates to nirvana and has achieved the three states of enlightenment (or three insights) which do not differ from (the underlying nature of) unenlightenment. He is neither unity nor diversity, neither selfness nor otherness, neither form nor formlessness, neither on this shore (of enlightenment) nor in mid-stream when converting living beings. He looks into the nirvanic condition (of stillness and extinction of worldly existence) but does not dwell in its permanent extinction. He is neither this nor that and cannot be revealed by these two extremes. He cannot be known by intellect or perceived by consciousness. He is neither bright nor obscure. He is nameless and formless, being neither strong nor weak, neither clean nor unclean, neither in a given place nor outside of it, and neither mundane nor supramundane. He can neither be pointed out nor spoken of. He is neither charitable nor selfish; he neither keeps nor breaks the precepts; is beyond patience and anger, diligence and remissness, stillness and disturbance. He is neither intelligent nor stupid, and neither honest nor deceitful. He neither comes nor goes and neither enters nor leaves. He is beyond the paths of word and speech. He is neither the field of blessedness nor its opposite, neither worthy nor unworthy of worship and offerings. He can be neither seized nor released and is beyond ‘is’ and ‘is not’. He is equal to reality and to the nature of Dharma (Dharmata) and cannot be designated and estimated, for he is beyond figuring and measuring. He is neither large nor small, is neither visible nor audible, can neither be felt nor known, is free from all ties and bondage, is equal to the All-knowledge and to the (underlying) nature of all living beings, and cannot be differentiated from all things. He is beyond gain and loss, free from defilement and troubles (klesa), beyond creating and giving rise (to anything), beyond birth and death, beyond fear and worry, beyond like and dislike, and beyond existence in the past, future and present. He cannot be revealed by word, speech, discerning and pointing.”

The unmanifested Tathagata is with us right now, although hidden from our all-too-worldly view because of our insatiable desire for sensory objects and pleasures.  We want to see the Tathagata as a human.  Maybe he is a nice old guy with his teeth all lined up, perfectly, who smiles a lot, even when we ask stupid questions such as what to do with our roommate who won't pick up after themselves. We also want a Tathagata who will dumb down Buddhism, sufficiently, so that we can become awakened in a matter of weeks instead of months and—God forbid—years.  Sorry, it ain't going to happen.

Zen Buddhism and Buddhism, in general, is about training us to see the real, unmanifest Tathagata who is standing right in front of us although he is imperceptible; who is not in conformity with our expectations.  For us to drop all of our expectations of the Tathagata will take some considerable work on our part which, I dare say, most of us are unwilling to do.  We want the quick fix.  How about doing zazen?  Or how about just learning to be aware?  Does that suffice?  Sorry, it doesn't. 

On being mindful or sati

In the Sutta-Nipata, which contains some very old discourses of the Buddha, advocates the practice of sati/smrti (mindfulness) and dissociation from saññâ/samjñâ (the third aggregate, also a term that appears not infrequently in the Diamond Sutra usually rendered as notion or idea). The older material helps us with a deeper meaning of mindfulness.

Sati and sañña are coordinate.  Sati, generally speaking, can be thought of as an antidote to the bewitching power of perceptions both internal and external.  The English word “perception” which can mean “mental image” is very close to the Pali word, sañña.  I think, however, sañña can be expanded to mean all percepts or perceptions from sensory ones to various mental kinds such as ideas, concepts, etc.  

“There are not ties to him who is free from ideas [sañña], there are no delusions to him who is delivered by wisdom.  Those who grasp ideas and views, wander about coming into conflict in the world” (Sutta-Nipata, 847).

The one with sati sees through the field of subjective and objective sañña. Sati pulls us out of being caught up in all manner of sañña, especially subjective ones the biggest one being “I am this psychophysical organism.” 

As odd as it sounds, disputes arise from our adherence to sañña which are formed into dogmas such as ‘God created the universe’, 'the self and the world are eternal or the self is annihilated at death'. Bewildered by the fog of these volatile sañña, we are unable to see pure Mind. 

Perhaps this is where the importance of Zen koans lie.  Bare words, phrases, physical gestures of the Zen masters are intended to throw sañña at us.  Naturally, we are entangled in them to begin with.  Sati-ing the koan is the way we untangle or back out of our over involvement with the domination of sañña which is a bewitching power.  Joshu's Mu is no more than bewitching sañña.  It is a sound impression or an internal sound impression linked to various intellectual conceptions which are also sañña. But what sañña arises from and depends upon is non-perceptual, hence, the frustration with our understanding of Joshu's Mu who wants us to see, directly, the imperceptible pure Mind which alone answers the koan.

In a way, to thoroughly sati the different layers of sañña is to progressively pry ourselves out of the influence of sañña.  For example, in order to see our house we have to go outside.  To see the beautiful forest we have to go to a higher point overlooking it.  Sati, in a way, breaks the spell of sañña putting us into a better position to realize pure Mind.

How Zen began

It is not always common knowledge in pop Zen that the shift from Indian Buddhism to the many forms of Chinese Buddhism occurred in the T’ang Dynasty (618 – 907 AD).  Traditions such as T’ien-t’ai, Hua-yen, Pure Land, and Ch’an (Zen) arose during the T’ang despite a period of religious persecution.

Many of the T’ang Buddhist schools developed around a particular Sutra such as the Lotus Sutra or the Avatamsaka Sutra.  Supposedly, Ch’an developed around the idea of transmitting the Buddha’s awakening, directly.  This transmission was a Mind to Mind transmission which went beyond the Sutras, not to mention words and letters.  This is the same as saying the moon in the sky is beyond the finger pointing including the word, “moon” and its letters.  Indeed, what the Buddha realized was truly transcendent.

The most prominent Ch’an school of the T’ang was known as the “The East Mountain Dharma Gate” (Tung-shan Fa-men) owing to the previous efforts of Tao-hsin (580–651) and Hung-jen (601–674), both of whom were considered to be Patriarchs .  While it might be correct to call East Mountain a “Zen school” the name “Zen school” has never been used as the name of a particular school.  The popularity of East Mountain was a watershed moment for the development of future Zen Buddhism.  

Before East Mountain was a small school in the Liang Dynasty known as the Lanka School because it used the Lankavatara Sutra as a means of transmission.  The Lanka School was likely initiated by either Gunabhadra or Bodhidharma. Its teachers were called “Lanka masters.” They shook off the ways of the world (dhûta) using only one robe and one bowl.  This school had very little if any popular appeal because of the severity of its practices and the difficulty of understanding the Lankavatara Sutra.  Thanks to East Mountain’s efforts to link itself with the Lanka School, the popularity of Zen Buddhism grew.

What is remarkable about Zen Buddhism is that there is an unbroken golden thread which runs through its various traditions.  This gold thread is Buddha Mind or in the words of the Third Patriarch Seng-ts’an, “One Reality” which is the true essence or substance of the profuse diversity of our phenomenal world.  According to Seng-ts-an,

It is like water making waves, like gold making vessels. The gold is the substance of the vessel, so no vessel is not gold. The waves are the functioning of the water, so no waves are different from the water” (Cleary, Zen Dawn, 45).

By realizing this One Reality we cannot help but see that our phenomenal world is a spectacular illusion—like a mirage—that depends upon the One Reality.  Getting us to this awakening is the task of Zen Buddhism.

Seeing Mind: the early years

Q:  What were your philosophical views before you decided to study Zen Buddhism.

A:  I think at that time during the early 1960s I was still searching for something meaningful.  So I experimented—read some books; even a little Aristotle, but wasn’t moved.  It was with Zen Buddhism that I found what I was looking for.  And the reason why is that, oddly, I could understand and not understand Zen.  It wasn’t a love/hate affair.  It was more like Zen was speaking to something profound in me but I didn’t know what the heck it was at the time!  Let me say that I was not your philosophical sort of guy.  Zen seemed to be pointing to something much deeper than philosophy—at least modern philosophy.  That depth I wanted to know.  I wanted to see what these Zen masters saw who saw what the Buddha saw.  During my stay with my Zen teacher who was an Abbot whose temple had just been recently consecrated by Primate Takashina Rosen, the head of the whole Soto sect in Japan, I came to learn a little more about Zen, especially about keeping a vigilant awareness at all levels of my daily life in the temple.  From making a robe to gardening (my teacher was also a master gardener) keeping my mind on the task at hand laid the foundation for meditation.  It was with the discovery of the Lankavatara Sutra in the temple library that I began to see through the fog.

Q:  I have read a little of the Lankavatara Sutra, but what about it, in particular, caught your attention?

A:  I think it was seeing the word Mind on almost every page!  I then began to connect the dots.  The word Mind appeared not only in the Lankavatara Sutra but in The Sutra of Wei Lang (or Hui Neng) that was in our small temple library.  So here is this Chinese guy, Hui-neng who says that the Essence of Mind which is the seed of enlightenment is pure by nature.  Isn’t that interesting?  I learned that this essence is what I need to know.  But at that time, I didn’t put my heart and soul in trying to uncover it.  I still had a few years to go.  I figured that my Zen teacher knew it and that I would eventually learn what it was.  (How wrong I was about that!)

Q:  But you did the usual zazen practice, right?

A:  Yes, but nothing formal like in a major Zen temple in San Francisco.  For me it was nice to sit in zazen.  That way I could escape from always having to be aware of everything I did, getting called on the carpet for my screw ups!  All the zazen I did, however, brought me no closer to the Mind which Hui-neng, the Sixth Patriarch, was talking about, and the Mind in the Lanka.  Speaking for myself now, if I had a student and I knew what I knew now he would hear about Mind every day.  I would drum it into him (or her) that realizing Mind’s incredibly pure nature is the name of the game.  Unfortunately, not hearing my Zen teacher explain Mind is when I began to realize that the Zen institution might be missing something in a huge way.  Without having any insight into this Mind, as a monk I had become something like a Zen actor.  As the Chinese put it, I had become a Zen coat hanger.  This didn’t set will with me including the fact that my Zen teacher had fallen in love with the senior monk.  The senior monk eventually quit which drove my teacher to drink one too many beers.

Q:  Did you keep up your quest to discover Mind’s pure nature?

A:  It was always at the back of my mind.  After my teacher and I had a falling out, I was free to deepen my knowledge about Zen Buddhism.  More and more I had begun to firmly believe that a profound realization is required to really know Zen Buddhism and what its mysterious koans were pointing towards.  Incidentally, D.T. Suzuki’s book, Studies in the Lankavatara Sutra, was a big help to me because it covered some of the early history on the formation of Zen in addition to providing a more in depth look at the Sutra, itself.  I quickly found out that modern Western philosophy knew of no such depth.  This was a new world to me.  I had no desire to look at this world through the spectacles of the West.

Q:  Do you think that this is the problem with the West’s approach to Zen Buddhism?

A:  It seems like it to me.  The West is either religiously oriented or it is materialistic.  Those who disagree with me the most hate religion in general which to me makes them materialists.  Then I try to explain to them that Zen Buddhism and Buddhism, in general, are not a religion in which one worships some divine being.  Buddhism is mystical and Zen is the path Buddhism provides by which to realize our true nature or pure Mind.  In this respect, it is more of a mystical science.  By realizing our true nature we also realize the essence of the universe.  

Q:  So what if the West doesn’t buy the mystical?  What becomes of Zen Buddhism?

A:  Then there is no crossing over to the other shore.  This entire world including the body we perceive the world through is this shore—not the other shore.  All of our thoughts, all of our feelings about our loved ones is this shore—including birth and death.  Even going to a Zen monastery or becoming a Buddhist monk or nun is all on this shore.  It makes no difference what we do if we do not begin to cross over which is what the mystical path is really about.  Remember, nirvana is unconditioned and supermundane.  This is pretty mystical stuff.  It sure as hell is not of this world.  Western scholars, for the most part, seem to want to revise the teachings of the Buddha—turn the teaching into something mundane instead of supermundane which it is.  If you want to know what will become of Zen Buddhism these days, it has already happened.  It has become Dogen Zen.  It’s all about sitting or doing concentrated just sitting.  But the Buddha never taught this.  He never transmitted a “sitting doctrine”.  In the Zen literature it says that he transmitted Mind.  Mind, for want of a better definition, is purely animative.  We don’t see it because it is so clear that there doesn’t see to be anything.  But for those of us who have seen the clear Mind, it is quite real and powerful.  It is what animates us.  It blinks my eyes, twirls a flower, lifts up a staff, says Mu.

Q:  Do you believe the West is ready for Zen Buddhism the way you explain it?

A:   Probably not.  The West is looking for a quick fix, and sitting in meditation seems to be it for now.  Got a problem?  Just sit.  Problem won’t go away?  Sit more.  I admit that sitting will cause a placebo effect.  That’s okay.  I have great respect for the placebo effect.  But it won’t take you to the other shore.  It won’t open your eyes of flesh to see pure Mind which transcends flesh.

Towards unsurpassed awakening

Frankly, it is amazing that the One Mind can appear to itself as seemingly other than itself even being opposed to itself.  This is because the One Mind as absolute substance or essence can phenomenalize itself in such a way that it can create a difference from itself much like water becoming a whirpool.  This difference or seeming opposition, however, is an illusion.  Even our suffering is an illusion in which opposition is extreme.  The hour of our most intense suffering is also our utmost bondage to illusion.  Still, the Buddha is right when he says in the Lotus Sutra:

"He who knows these things and that all phenomena have the nature of illusion and dreams, that they are pithless as the stem of the plantain, and similar to an echo; and who knows that the triple world throughout is of that nature, not fast and not loose, he knows rest." 

On the same track, if the One Mind penetrates through all of its phenomenalizations, instantly, it stops at itself and knows rest which is pure Mind.  This arrival at itself, or the same, a return-to-self, is of immense importance.  As we settle into this awakened state, we see that the universe we behold through our mortal human body is, potentially, a vast heuristic display for want of a better term.  It is the perfect coincidence of our ideas or views about the world which daily confront us, and the means for their fruition or dissolution (this can all be sumed up under karma).  This is not to suggest that all, in the end, ends well.  It may not for those yet unawakened.  In the Flower Ornament Scripture it says:

"The Buddha’s realm is most profound, inconceivable; He shows it to all beings, letting them enter; but their wills desire the petty and are thus attached to existents, so they cannot understand what the Buddha has realized." 

Instead of trying to penetrate through the veil of illusion, some of us may wrongly elect to nurture the most shallow views of what we imagine the world to be and nuture these ideas beyond all reason to where we can advance no further.  In other words, there is no Buddha here.  This very much applies to Buddhism and Zen Buddhism such that we will never transcend the illusory world and our mortal body because we have accepted illusion as our refuge and expect Zen to instruct us how to cope with it—nothing more.  This is nothing short of bondage which ironically is believed to be the Buddha’s Way!

It is only when we penetrate completely through the illusiory world that confronts us that we acquire unsurpassed awakening, according to the Buddha.  In the mean time, our world is still a challenging hurestic display that if we have faith in the Buddha’s teachings, and take them to heart, one day we shall gain unsurpassed awakening.

Ending the false mind

The common lot of mankind (the prithagjanas) is adverse to giving up their false beliefs; even when proven wrong.  More than often they resist change which is why the Buddhas use skillful means.  This problem is not difficult to find in Zen Buddhism.  Zen at first sight is what we tend to go with.  Seeing monks or laypersons do zazen is what most people believe Zen is about.  We don’t want to change our impression of Zen.   But this is kindergarten stuff, to be honest.  If anyone believes this is real Zen, they will stay in kindergarten for a long time!

On the same track, if anyone spends a lot of time musing over koans they are still stuck in kindergarten.  Koans are not solved by discursive reasoning which is the path Chinese literati took who helped to popularized koans for hundreds of years.  Quite the opposite, the koan is solved by abstaining from discursive reasoning, philosophy, argumentation and the acquisition of knowledge. This is because the koan is based upon the realization of pure Mind which through the Zen master (if he is awakened to pure Mind) expresses itself to the unawakened person.   Such an expression or yung can be verbal or a physical gesture.  The expression often seems strange and illogical to the unawakened person.  But in truth, it is not.

Because of the general disbelief in a transcendent Mind (lokottaracitta), the average seeker resists having his false mind repeatedly confronted—it’s extremely painful.  Such a person will do almost anything in their power to blunt the attack even showing disrespect towards the Buddha’s teachings.  The same goes with his imagination which deals with fictions.  It should go without saying this, but when there is no place for the false mind, including imagination, bodhi shines forth.  The ending of the false mind is the new beginning of the true Mind.

An inferior concentration

Attachment to appearances (i.e., sensory objects), which is the basis of materialism, in away, is a kind of inferior concentration which is only fixed upon appearances. It cannot go deeper, in other words.  Attachment can also mean attachment to our psychophysical body.  Again, it is an inferior concentration that is fixed upon the psychophysical body. 

Detachment from appearances entails more than the conscious suppression of painful emotions or avoiding unwanted things and conditions.  True detachment from appearances means concentrating on that which transcends all sensory appearances; which ever remains unaffected by change, etc.  In the example of a clay pot, the pot shape is the appearance whereas the clay is the unaffected substance.  No matter in which ever way the clay is shaped, the clay remains itself.

For those who are able to realize their true nature which never changes; which transcends all appearances, it cannot be realized by attachment to appearances.  The concentration has to be more than superficial.  Such a concentration must penetrate through more and more subtle appearances until true reality is uncovered. 

Giving up our attachments has more to do with the depth of our concentration.  Such a concentration must transcend our previous fixation on appearances.  In a way, it is like the difference between the concentration of a child and that of a graduate student.  Upon reaching the absolute essence, appearances are seen for what they really are.  We are no longer attached to them in the way we were before.  All the magic and charm have vanished.  What we thought was a beautiful oasis turned out to be only a mirage.

Zen and the paranormal

I am of the opinion that those who wish to study Zen Buddhism must have no aversion to the paranormal which is beyond the range of what can be perceived through the senses.  Anyone who says otherwise has not penetrated into the arcane side of Buddhism where begins nirvana’s stream.  The Buddha’s profound Dharma was not meant to rescue mundane existence so as to bring purpose and meaning to the worldly life.  The worldly life is a way station; nor is it a refuge.  It is finite.

Unfortunately, Western Buddhists and especially Zen Buddhists tend to scout the paranormal.  Buddhism is supposed to represent a religion that appreciates what modern science and technology have to offer.  Supposedly, Buddhism doesn’t believe in the worship of a God.  The only problem Westerners  have with Buddhism is karma and rebirth and, to a certain extent, nirvana.  Certainly, anything paranormal is out of the question for the typical Westerner who wants to study Buddhism or learn meditation.  Having any paranormal experience is often considered in some Zen Buddhist circles to be makyo which means evil realm.

If anything I have learned in Buddhism and especially in Zen Buddhism is the Western understanding of Buddhism, in general, has been largely a failed attempt at trying to put a round, paranormal Buddhism into a square secular hole.  Just looking at meditation which in Pali is jhâna and in Sanskrit, dhyâna, it is not just about sitting, trying to relax or suppress one’s troubled thoughts.

“Thus elsewhere we read, that here below one can gain ‘entire happiness’ when, in fourth jhâna, one can be aware of the presence of devas, and dwell in converse with them.  Again, the deva-access is gains by jhâna.  Again, that when a man makes to become a way for access to Brahma (or superdeva-) world, he practises jhâna.  Once more, Moggallâna, a chief disciple among the founders, is said to enter jhâna, that he may get into touch with the next world, and so be able to report what he find has been the happy fate of individuals who were worthy on earth, for the encouragement of men here below” (Mrs. Rhys Davids, What was the Original Gospel in ‘Buddhism’?, p. 87).

Here is another paranormal example in this interesting passage from the Nikayas.

“And again, Udayin, a course has been pointed out by me for disciples [airyasavaka], practising which disciples of mine from this body (mentally) produce (another) body having a form (rûpin), made of mind (manomayam), having all its major and mior parts, not deficient in any sense organ” (M.ii.17). 

As might be expected Western Buddhist scholars and translators can only admit passages like this are in the cannon—and yes, they are paranormal.  Western Buddhist teachers and Zen teachers, on the other hand, can act as censors and not mention passages like this wishing not to lose their members who just want to learn how to meditate.  No spiritual mumbo jumbo please.