The Zennist

Histories of Zen

If the history of Zen, which I would argue is more akin to a genealogy than a history, had a telos or goal with a definitive beginning, middle, and an attainable end or goal, what might this goal be?  Well, it should be obvious.  The goal would be enlightenment or the same kensho (awakening to one's true nature or essence).  I will go a bit further and say that Zen has no other kind of history than awakening—a very specific kind.  One is on a fool's errand who would see Zen as anything other than a road to awakening.  Zen does not allow for many interpretations unlike history, for example. 

Be that as it may, how Zen was popularized in China during the Song dynasty, for example, is also a history, in itself, and different from the history of Zen with its telos of kensho.  This history involves suspicion, namely, that something is missing which requires a kind of behind the scenes look which discovers that the Zen popularizers needed the material support of the emperor together with the literati in order to sell Zen.  In other words, they had to devise clever ways to gain support.  Politics, naturally, was involved. This history also leads to those Zen traditions (zong) that have been marginalized by the dominant tradition.  This might include the so-called Northern School and the various other marginalized schools of Zen.

Bearing the aforementioned cook's tour in mind, we should never lose sight of what the real history of Zen is, even if we accept that it is more myth than fact (facts, too, cannot be separated from interpretation).  It is all about seeing our true nature which is kensho.  Zen is not a unique Asian psychology that helps us to deal with the Mitwelt, that is, how I relate to others—the social-sphere in other words.  Nor is it about my psychological self, that is, how I relate to my self including my own unique personal world.  This, I hasten to add, is where modern day Zennists go astray; being led to a Zen which is not really Zen since it ignores kensho (Zen teacher Brad Warner said, "I have never had a kensho experience. I hope I never do." ) 

Ignoring Zen's real history soon turns into ABKZ (Anything But Kensho Zen) which shows no signs of having any allegiance to the telos of Zen.  This is also another history of Zen, namely, false Zen.  It is the Zen of modernity which is on the road to nihilism.

Aryanism?

One must be careful with history.  It is not all true.  What a person believes may not be true.  For instance, the term and use of the word "aryan" (in Pali it is ariyan) has nothing to do with race.  It is a spiritual term found in the ancient Vedas which first appears as, "the children of arya are led by the light " (jyoti) (RV, VII. 33.17) (another translation might be, "the children of arya radiating light" (jyotiragra).  This light is not reflected light but vital or spiritual light: the very animative principle that gives life and moves our hands and feet according to Bodhidharma.  Arya/ariya is a term not infrequently used in Buddhism often translated by the English word "noble".  Of all Indian philosophies or Dharmas, Buddhism appears to use it the most.  It might even be proper to call Buddhism, Aryanism.  

The contemporary belief that Aryanism means white people are superior is a Western, racist invention.  It is true, however, that the true aryan is superior to a non-aryan for obvious reasons.  Non-aryans have never realized what animates them but more importantly they don't care.  They do not know their true self which is to say, they only know the pseudo-ātman (asmi-māna, satkāya-dṛṣṭi) consisting of five grasping aggregates—the psychophysical body and their world.  They live out their entire life asleep to what animates them.    

In the Pali discourses, the average person or puthujjana is non-aryan (anaryan) without the ability to discern who is an aryan (M. i. 1) such as a Buddha, a Paccekbuddha (solitary buddha) or a disciple (sāvaka) of the Buddha.  In Buddhism, arya/ariya has an invariant and decisive meaning.  The four aryan truths, for example, are not understood by the average person (puthujjana) because unlike the aryan such people have not got beyond suffering failing to intuitively realize, firsthand, the supermundane (lokuttara) which is a transcendental reality that is devoid of suffering.  In fact, our average person doesn't understand things the way they really are from the side of unconditionality.

When aryans talk of the luminous mind or pure Mind the non-aryan has no idea what the aryan means by such a term.  The non-aryan is always at odds with the aryan.  Such people fight against human life, itself, which is a path towards the aryan vision.  The non-aryan is really a kind of false or half human whose self-hatred is directed outwardly to the earth and to others, by which he hopes to rid himself of his anxiety which stems from his refusal to look within which is the beginning of the aryan path.

Falling prey to sexuality

As far as Buddhism is concerned, sexual desire is one of the most difficult desires to master, if we ever do.  It is usually by the force of will that we master it.  And since we are biological creatures who pretty much fall into the category of Darwinian fitness, the urge to procreate is powerful.  

The short of it rather than the long of it, as I was recently explaining to a reader, imagine the heart chakra (cakka/chakra) (the region of Mind) and the mula or root chakra (the region of the carnal) being indistinguishable.  If it were possible to experience, directly, the heart chakra which is luminous and blissful, the mula chakra would be cut off from its supply, so to speak.  If we could increase it by samadhis (yoking with the heart of Mind again and again), the less would be the raw sexual drive.

It could be that suppression of sexual desire instead of driving ahead to achieve kensho (seeing our true nature) is perhaps one of the least effective methods.  In my own recent example, anyone who is open to the luminous heart/Mind I can sense, directly. It is not subjective (it reminds me of my Fisher stove on a winter's day with the heat radiating from it).  When I am with a person of the opposite sex I sense it directly, but the sexual side is not there.  The sexual impulse has been degaussed, you might say!  This means I can clearly distinguish the heart chakra from the mula chakra.  With male friends it is the luminous heart/Mind that I sense in certain ones (not all).  There is no sexual impulse there.

The mula chakra seems to be the bad boy together with our inability to distinguish it from the heart chakra.  The unfortunate thing for the human being is they live under this regime 24/7.  Mother nature, you could say, has tricked us into falling prey to craving sensual/sexual intercourse which ends up with the production of offspring and the expansion of the human species to the detriment of the environment and to the detriment of truth, itself, which then becomes difficult to realize.  This reminds me of something I had in my notes.  Malcolm Muggeridge once said that, "Sex is the mysticism of materialism and the only possible religion in a materialistic society."

Many truths or one truth?

A fair observation on my part, lots of people are of the opinion that there are many truths but no real ultimate truth or reality.  I find this opinion to be prevalent in Buddhism as well as in most religions.  When it comes to the mystics, the differences begin to melt away so that we might say the mountain is the same, there are just different approaches to its summit.  Carrying this analogy to life forms, there is just one animative principle but many life forms which are animated, being expressions of it.  The highest philosophy or religion would be the one perfectly able to revert (āśrayaparāvṛtti) to the animative principle, itself.

Given that such an idea as reverting to the animative principle (our Buddha-nature or ātman) is going to find very few takers, it is much easier to go with one's own beliefs and opinions, as if to say that there are many mountains and no such things as a primary vital principle that we can yoke with.  What such an attitude is suggesting is that there are many truths but no one truth.  This means truth is relative which—I hate to say it—is epistemological nihilism.  This means truth is relative to each individual or particular group.  It can even become Max Stirner's idiopathic concept of truth.

"As long as you believe in the truth, you do not believe in yourself, and you are a—servant, a—religious man.  You alone are the truth, or rather, you are more than the truth, which is nothing at all before you" (The Ego and His Own).

But epistemological nihilism naturally gives rise to its own downfall.  There becomes, then, many truths and many egos and just as many conflicts which never become resolved. It is bellum omnium contra omnes (the war of all against all).  I begin to draw the conclusion that much of this stems from a fear of truth which is tied up with a fear of change.  People hold on to their presuppositions; they don't want to have them challenged.  They fight back.  Their "I" is the sum of all their presuppositions among other things.  In contrast to this attitude, the mystic in every religion is not all that welcome.  Something in them makes them different from the average person—faith is for them letting go of everything.  By whatever name we wish to call what they've discovered, it is inconceivable; it is good; it is eternal; it is blissful insofar as it is where all signs cease (the fodder of all disputes). 

Our desire for passion

The first noble or aryan truth (satya) is suffering.  The first noble truth is also the Five Aggregates (skandhas) consisting of corporeality, feeling, perception, volitional formations and sensory consciousness which, incidentally, are said to be previous karma according to the Buddha.

"And what, bhikkhus, is the noble truth of suffering?  It should be said: the five aggregates subject to clinging; that is, the form aggregates subject to clinging [to] the consciousness aggregate subject to clinging. This is called the noble truth of suffering" (S. v. 425). 

Translators decided to translate the sanskrit word duḥkha (P., dukkha) with the English word "suffering".  It's not bad, but in a spiritual context the word "passion" (G., pathos) might be better (remember the passion or suffering of Christ?).  Passion means "the state of being subjected to or acted on by what is external or foreign to one's true nature," which is a better fit in my opinion since the Buddha says we are not the aggregates or skandhas; nevertheless, being subject to them by our desire (clinging, craving, etc.).  

It should not be surprising then, to understand that the second noble truth is the origination (samudaya) of passion which involves clinging to the Five Aggregates (M. i. 191).  These aggregates are what is external and foreign to our ātman (P., attā) or Buddha-nature.  By clinging to our passion or aggregates, passion grows in us.  In other words, eventually, we lose sight (or the scent) of our ātman which transcends passion/skandhas. 

The Buddha also teaches us that the Five Aggregates are empty and vain.  He says, "Corporality is like a lump of foam, feeling is like a water bubble; perception is like a mirage; volitions like a plantain trunk, and consciousness is like a magician's illusion (S. iii. 142).  Clinging to phenomena opens us up to increasing levels of passion—something happens to us or befalls us as a consequence.  We become gradually consumed by the other which we keep on clinging to—losing the sense of our ātman as we go to the other.

Sexuality is perhaps the stronger of passions that we have to contend with as compared with drugs, obtaining wealth and other such things.  There seems to be no end to being passion-ized.  Attending this, is a craving or want for more passion.  We crave ever greater forms of passion gradually losing control of ourselves.  The only way to lasting peace is to stop clinging to our passions.  As I told someone recently, it is not the beautiful jacket that is the problem, it is clinging to the passion for it.  By clinging so much to our passions, anger, greed, jealousy, and many more unwholesome states of mind can arise.  We can cling so much that we are blinded and consumed by our passions.  We are in a way devouring ourselves—it's  spiritual suicide.

 Our ātman, as the noble witness, in order to be free must find a way to stop clinging to passion by realizing the passionless—true reality.  In a word, ātman must realize the higher ātman, the Buddha-nature, which is nirvana but is also the extinction of desire for the life of passion. 

First impressions matter

People are more open to indoctrination and propaganda than critical thinking.  This is even so in our universities. Our so-called, Media Indoctrination Complex (MIC) knows this which is why it positions itself to be the first news we see or hear.  This is done for a very special reason that is explained by, of all people, Mark Twain:  "It is easier to fool the people, than to convince them they have been fooled."  This means the human mind is, naturally, disposed to believe the first thing it sees or hears which is not necessarily true.  Put another way, the human mind prefers first impressions.  A correction of such impressions more that often proves the more difficult task if not sometimes impossible.

The general public is very seldom aware of how they are being constantly manipulated by the media taking advantage of first impressions.  A study of history beginning at the start of the 20th century is a goldmine of information of how the American people were deceived and led into the Great War (World War I), the most violet war ever fought in human history up to that time.  The same goes with World War II and every following war including the Cold War.  In light of this, should we believe our first impressions of Zen Buddhism, especially, when it comes through the media?

Magazines like Tricycle, or articles in Huffington Post about Buddhism, seem more credible to the public than some insignificant blog like The Zennist because they are there first.  We get our first impressions from such sources.  The public is supposed to believe that Buddhism is all about promoting nonviolence, compassion and the belief that all things are interconnected.  Such a view of Buddhism is so vague and shallow that practically any religion, including atheism, might be called Buddhism.  Such a portrayal by the media ignores the goal of Buddhism which is nirvana explained as a deathless state that one recognizes in deep meditation which is what the Buddha realized under the Bodhi-tree.

Gradually, as Zen Buddhism and Buddhism, in general, became more popular the public's first impressions were often misleading, moving in a direction almost opposite or short of enlightenment.  Alan Watts' book, The Way of Zen (1957) and Walpola Rahula's book, What the Buddha Taught (1959) proved to be popular books that impressed public consciousness, but with a view of Zen Buddhism and Buddhism that swerved so that it became an uphill battle to convince people, later on, that neither authors understood what the Buddha taught.  At this point, one might reflect on the old saw that a little knowledge is a dangerous thing which also suggests that a shallow understanding is not knowledge at all but, instead, the illusion of knowledge.

A coda to this, I have been examining my own voyage of discovery which I began when I was a young dude of twenty trying to remember my own first impressions of Zen.  Around that time I had read Alan Watts' book, The Spirit of Zen (1958) which, at the time, I found to be difficult to understand.  A clear message seemed to be lacking.  If I wanted to understand what Zen was really saying, I had to dig for it.  I didn't have the benefit of any first impressions, at that time.  I think that was a good thing, looking back!  I just know how much I was drawn to Zen, like a compass needle to magnetic north.  I couldn't get a way from it.  If you are a beginner reading this, try to avoid first impressions; also be willing to dump what you think you learned.  It could be totally wrong.

The koan genre

I have more than once thought of koans as being a unique kind of Chinese Buddhist genre.  Most of us are familiar with the term.  Classical genres can be tragedy, comedy and satire, the novel and the short story to name a few.  It is not all that easy to convey in English what this interesting French term means.  In a general sense we can say of a genre that it has certain shared characteristics.

Koans do have, as a matter of fact, a number of shared characteristics.  They are usually dialogic.  There is a Zen master who represents, supposedly, the Buddha's enlightenment and the interlocutor who might be a monk—but more, generally, a person seeking enlightenment which could be a government official, for instance.  In addition, there is often a commentary and a poem composed by the one who put the koan collection together.  This is all the reader gets who now must make sense of the koans.

But there is still more to this odd genre.  It is a given, that the koan is an emanation, meaning, it comes, outwardly, from the enlightened Mind, being verbalized.  The answer bears both a mundane and a paradoxical side.  For the interlocutor, the Zen master's reply to his question appears nonsensical.  For the reader of the koan, they become insnared by the koan more or less.  There is something intriguing about the question and the answer that keeps the reader going back to the koan. 

The most important part of the koan is being the enlightened mind of the Zen master.  This means intuiting the Zen master's state of mind before it is stirred.  This requires a kind of reversion to the point where the mind is pure and original.  The essence, in other words.  The confounding aspect of the koan it that it will admit only one answer, the mind before it is stirred.  The intellect is not permitted to enter the gate.  In fact, any intellectual answer acts as a barrier.  Nor can we assume the koan is telling us to just be ourselves or there is nothing to realize in Zen.  Indeed, our biggest barrier is semantics, trying to find the answer there.

There are deeper levels of realization

In a recent blog of his, Soto Zen teacher Brad Warner said that there are no deeper levels of realization than where you're at right now.

The deepest level of realization you will ever have is the level of realization you have right now. With practice you may be able to gradually come to notice this. But in doing so, you will not deepen your level of realization. You’ll only learn to recognize the level of realization that’s already there.

But the monkey mind or the same the confused and uncontrolled mind is what many Zen practitioners wish to get beyond.  The average being's mind is what the Buddha called the defiled or polluted mind, the mind of adventitious defilements. Transcending this mind is the mind (citta) that is luminous (pabhassara) or the "natural mind" (pākati-mana) in the sense of primary (eka) and therefore unpolluted.

It seems odd for Brad Warner to make this assertion given terms like Buddha Mind, or mind is nirvana.  Other important terms are the unconditioned Mind, the pure Mind, and the unborn Mind.  Special terms like these don't ring with "the realization that's already there" which would be the defiled mind.

I get the impression that Brad Warner views the idea of deeper levels of realization as a marketing ploy by which to reel in the suckers which, of course, requires a charlatan for a teacher.

"The reason I say that deeper levels of realization are for suckers is that concepts like “deeper levels,” “higher planes,” “awakening experiences,” “satori,” “kensho” and all the rest are really just marketing tools. These concepts are designed to make you think that certain people have the ability to give you something you don’t already possess. Actually “give” is not the correct word. The correct word is “sell.”

Of course guys like me, according to Brad Warner's standards, could possibly be charlatans.  Yes, I blog about such things as "kensho", "pure Mind" and so on including "Buddha-nature" and "One Mind." But these terms are easily found in a Buddhist or Zen dictionary.  Translator and author, Thomas Cleary, even wrote a book entitled, Kensho: The Heart of Zen.  

On this blog, sometimes I go to the outer-limits talking about paranormal things (I have certainly had my share of extraordinary encounters such as the Light of Mahayana).  As for all the money a charlatans plans on getting from his suckers — well, I don't charge. I don't ask for donations.  So I must not be a charlatan.   The gods have been good to me.  I don't require the nickels and dimes from those who read this blog.  Maybe Brad Warner does. But then I don't know anything about is financial status. I just care that he insults and slanders Zen Buddhism.  By insult I mean he has disrespect for the true teachings; and by slander, he is trying to damage the reputation of Zen Buddhism trying to turn it into a species of secularism.

One final note.  Perhaps the most insidious form of charlatanism is to say that there are no deeper levels of realization than where you are at right now.  It covers the teacher's arse since they've never seen their true nature (kensho).  It simplifies teaching: just sit on your arse and if that doesn't work for you, sit more.  No need to study the Buddhist canon or read what Zen teachers actually taught.  Truth be told, Zen is a difficult path.  This much becomes apparent when you study the discourses of the Buddha.  Every step that you take challenges you.  Following Brad Warner is not enough.

The means to Buddhism's enlightenment

Zen can be thought of as a vehicle or somewhat like a device that is used to get us to Buddhism's enlightenment.  This sounds simple, but there are a few ways this can go wrong.  If we think of Zen as a vehicle like an SUV, we can drive it onto another road that has little or nothing to do with Buddhism's highway.  It becomes more like a personal vehicle in that respect, fitting our special case desires and needs.  Others may see Zen as a device or instrument like a hammer who use it to build an anti-religious, secular Zen being something close to agnosticism.  It has limited aims only extending to sitting in meditation.

Getting to know Zen on its own terms requires a fair amount of study and work.  It doesn't come easy when we take into consideration its founders who were all deeply steeped in Mahayana Buddhism.  Zen was more of a literary genre, you might say, a unique way of presenting Mahayana Buddhism than anything resembling a particular sect.  In fact, there is no indication in the history of Zen that it was ever a sect in the Western sense of the word, that is, a dissenting religious body.  Unlike with Theravada Buddhism, Mahayana did not have a closed canon.  It was still growing, in other words.  Zen is a reflection of such growth you might say.

Zen used too much for our personal needs and ends, easily, becomes less than Zen such that we lose the scent for authentic Zen.  The name remains; so do the robes and the temple; even zazen remains, but the heart of it is dying.  Those who try to correct the modern view of Zen and for that matter, Buddhism, are looked upon with some disfavor.  Nothing they say is understood; certainly not worth listening to.  Zen becomes degenerate at some point.  It breaks up into splinter groups each with varying interpretations and practices.  

In my own example, Zen in the late 1950s and early 1960s was a cool, hip thing to study—great in conversations at some parties.  Not too much was known about it.  It was mysterious.  If you were lucky and a good academic library was nearby you were in luck to learn more about Zen and Mahayana Buddhism.  It never dawned on any of us at the time that Zen was something to help with depression; that doing lots of zazen was helpful for mental stress and anxiety.  Zen was just a cool thing like Taoism.  Chinese Zen masters were mysterious old guys that lived in a hut and blissed out on their satori.  In some ways this idealistic, new vision was more on the mark than where Zen is heading these days.  Back then, some of us wanted to take this odd vehicle to the end of the Buddhist highway.

We knuckle-dragging earthlings

We moderns have a bad habit of finding it difficult to see or envision this whole cosmos as the manifestation of one substance or essence this being Mind.  This bad habit also includes our disbelief that it can be acquainted with in samadhi.  But this is exactly what Buddhism is about.  Some guy named Siddhartha long ago in India became directly acquainted with the stuff  the cosmos is made of, including even his thoughts and yes, even his dreams.  Is this a kind of myth or worse, just nonsense?  No, not for someone who has done it; who never once considered it to be impossible.

The problem with most people who might believe this is nonsense is they are overly attached to the world around them consisting of their neighborhood, home, children, jobs, friends—yes, the list goes on.  In other words, they are bewitched by everything from gnats to galaxies.  Physical things dominate them completely as do their thoughts and emotions about those things.  In such a confused state of mind how can they see what the Buddha saw when he awakened.  For them it is not even possible.  The negatives outweigh the positives.

To see this one substance requires some extraordinary skill of concentration.  One has to become like a laser beam such that their concentration is so exact that it connects (samadhi) with the absolute substance.  What comes as a result of this immediate connection is the realization that a super-pure substance is continuously manifesting itself as phenomena.  It is like primary longitudinal waves always converting into secondary transverse waves—and you are really a longitudinal  person.   You realize that you were never really part of the visible, pluralistic transverse system that is always subject to birth and death.

From this awakened vantage point it is easy to see what real ignorance or avidya is.  It is non-knowledge of the absolute substance.  It is also easy to see why people are always suffering.  They are always clinging to one side of existence: the always being born and dying side of existence.  They don’t see or want to see the side of pure substance or the absolute medium that, despite the many forms it takes, is never changed; is always itself and free from suffering. 

It is not that difficult to infer from this that there are countless advanced world systems where sentient beings are acquainted with the absolute substance; who see the pluralistic cosmos as a beautiful, grand illusion.  They are also free from old age, death and suffering unlike we knuckle-dragging earthlings who are imbibing gallons of poison called delusion, hatred and greed.