The Zennist

To walk on the path of Zen requires intuition

The primary existential problem asks and tries to  answer the question, “Who or what am I?”  However, the question doesn’t come without hidden assumptions yet to be revealed to the questioner.  For example, I might assume that I am this ever growing and changing body, including its senses.  At least I know that I am connected with it and cannot disconnect with it as far as I know. 

If I think about this more, I might ask myself who is it that uses the eyes, the ears, the nose, the tongue and touch?  Who is it that thinks and speaks internally?  At this point I only have guesses which are inadequate.

Now, let’s put this existential problem into a fitting Zen framework.  Imagine that you are visiting your teacher for the very first time.  This is an important interview.  You enter the room, bow then sit at a respectful distance from your new teacher.  So far so good. But then he looks at you and asks, “Who or what drags your body of flesh around, covers it with a robe, and seeks enlightenment?  When you have the right answer, comeback and I will test you.”

Immediately, you think to yourself, “That’s it?  After all this trouble I have been through just getting to this temple and learning the language?”

Believe it or not we all have what it takes to answer the teacher’s question.  Studying Zen in an Asian country; becoming a monk or a nun isn’t, magically, going to help us answer the question, “Who or what am I?” or “Who or what drags my body of flesh around, covers it with a robe and seeks enlightenment?”

In this predicament, whether we know it or not, we are expected to turn away from the six senses in order to find the right answer — the very same answer Siddhartha found under the Bodhi-tree. 

Any authentic Zen teacher wants us to look for the answer in a place the six senses can’t go.  Yep, sounds simple.  But from Zen’s mysterious angle this is the most difficult thing that you will ever do in this life or the next. 

To walk on the path of Zen requires intuition.  Such intuition is not taught in our elementary schools or our universities.  We have no idea what it is.  Back to our imaginary Zen temple.  The teacher is supposed to teach us a path based on intuition.  The question he asked can only be answered through intuition — not the intellect which only intensifies the problem.  Without intuition the question turns into a barrier that we cannot pass through no matter how hard we try.  The intellect may work for everyday problems but not for Zen.

 

Getting your head around Buddhism's proper context

Without context we don’t know what to make of what we read or watch in movies (if you lateralize to the right hemisphere of the brain you really like context — if to the left hemisphere you’re basically a clueless idiot). 

In Buddhism, without context who is this guy many today call the Buddha?  Maybe he was some guy in ancient India doing a lot of virtue signaling, or India’s version of a Stoic basically saying, “Take the pain!”  Who knows!

Without context Buddhism and especially Zen can be anything you want it to be and that ain’t good.  The West’s fifty or more years of de-contextualizing Buddhism and Zen has pretty much destroyed our understanding of Buddhism and Zen.

Remember, that when Siddhartha had his epiphany, he awakened to something very profound.  Let me give you a hint dear Zennist, it was nirvana he awakened to, which is unconditioned (P., asaṅkhata); not made by anything.  And what does it mean to be unconditioned?

“Mendicants, there are these three characteristics that define the unconditioned.  What three? No arising is seen, no vanishing is seen, and no alteration while it persists is seen” (AN I.152).

Speculating, one could also say that the conditioned world (i.e., the world of appearances that we live in) is empty, in the sense of being empty of the unconditioned.  E.g., our thoughts are empty; this includes all mental activity.  We might conclude from this that nirvana cannot be attained by taking up thought which is never other than conditioned and not nirvana.  We can’t think our way to the yonder shore of the unconditioned (i.e., nirvana).

We have entered the proper context of Buddhism and its scion, Zen.  Most of you who follow this blog are not shocked.  But for those who don’t understand the place of context and its iron rule as regards the Dharma, you’re in real trouble.  You’re going to have to crash and burn, figuratively speaking, before you get your head around Buddhism's proper context.

The higher and transcendent nature of man

We learn in the Pali Nikayas that the five aggregates are not the self or in Pali anattā (SN III.22–23).  Nor are these same aggregates the Tathāgata (SN III.111) which is another name for the Buddha. 

This is strange given the confusion that the self is, supposedly, what the Buddha denied according to some scholars although there is no real evidence for this claim.  Put another way, it is strange that neither the self nor the Tathagata have anything to do with the five aggregates.  The aggregates are always, in fact, never the self.  But more importantly, the five aggregates belong to the Buddhist devil, Māra (SN III.189). 

Can we say in light of the above that the self and the Tathagata are the same in virtue of the fact that both do not identify with the five aggregates?  It is difficult to believe otherwise.  Isn’t it also the very self (paccatta) that realizes nirvana (SN III.53–54) which is never other than unconditioned?  Certainly, it is also the Tathagata who attained complete awakening or nirvana. 

This awakening is described as unborn, unoriginated, unconditioned, etc.  It has also been described as the highest perfection (accanta.nittham). It is also extremely subtle and not graspable by those in bondage to the five aggregates which are the bait of Māra, the Buddhist devil.

The self and the Tathagata represent the higher and transcendent nature of man that awakens and attains liberation with the proper exertion and intelligence.  But today, few if any are interested in the transcendent nature of man.  Those who follow this blog are fighting a major battle for the hearts and minds of the human race.  There is much evil (excess attachment to the five aggregates).  The spiritual warriors are few.  

 

 

 

Imprisoned in spiritless illusions

Our age is still in its youth, a time of great confusion and great danger lest the most immature seize the day.  Less face it, the bulk of mankind do not know who they really are.  They imagine they know but they are still deceiving themselves.  Not just a little but greatly.  Religion is silent on this question because most people don’t understand what religion is trying to say.  They refuse to listen; much less understand. 

Behold, the great mass of people are imprisoned in spiritless illusions according to the Buddha.  Few if any have freed themselves so as to behold spirit for the first time.

The spiritually wise like the Buddhas do not seek or pray to a demiurge — some kind of creator god.  Spirit is before the manifestation of this illusory world.  Only here is Theos or Brahma to be found representing spirit or the luminous Mind of Buddhism. 

There is nothing human about Theos or Brahma, for humans are still animals subject to natural laws, especially, Darwinian fitness.  They know very little about spirit; they have little or no faith in it.  Those who seek Theos or Brahma by human means will never realize such.  This explains, to a certain extent, why the Buddha teaches this:

"Wherefore, monks, whatever is material shape, past, future or present, internal . . . thinking of all this material shape as ‘This is not mine, this I am not, this is not my self,’ he should see it thus as it really is by means of perfect wisdom.  Whatever is feeling . . . whatever is perception . . . whatever are the habitual tendencies ... whatever is consciousness, past, future or present, internal . . . thinking of all this consciousness as ‘This is not mine, this am I not, this is not my self,’ he should see it thus as it really is by means of perfect wisdom. 

Seeing it thus, monks, the instructed disciple of the pure ones turns away from material shape, he turns away from feeling, turns away from perception, turns away from the habitual tendencies, turns away from consciousness; turning away he is detached; by his detachment he is freed; in freedom there is the knowledge that he is freed and he comprehends: Destroyed is birth, brought to a close the Brahma-faring, done is what was to be done, there is no more being such or so” (MN III.20) 

Here the “self” or freed spirit which does not consist of material shape, feeling, perception, habitual tendencies, or consciousness.  What we truly are is spirit — not the flesh or the five aggregates/pañca skandha which are never other than transitory and inharmonious.  And unless we, personally, realize spirit we are doomed to repeat one painful life after another until we learn (attain nirvana).  There is no real final and absolute death which the materialists hope for.  There is only unending rebirth and maybe a learning curve.

Zen: escaping the consciousness trap

Zen intuition, that is, satori 悟 is a special kind of knowing.  It is not knowing in the usual sense of something for consciousness (vijñāna) which then is a particular object of which we are aware.  This still falls within consciousness as an object for our awareness. 

Without exception, every koan depends upon this special kind of knowing (i.e., satori) to see what is really going on when, for example, Joshu says, “No!” to the question: "Has a dog the Buddha Nature?” 

But what every student of Zen does without exception, if they lack authentic satori, is utilize knowing in the usual sense as something for consciousness.  In other words, they haven’t as yet superseded consciousness.  Every time they read and study a koan they are caught in the consciousness trap.  They never achieve the Buddha’s nirvana which, according to the Laṅkāvatāra Sutra, is the cessation of consciousness (vijñāna).

This cessation occurs when thought, which is immediate consciousness, is overcome.  One intuits the very essence or stuff of thought, directly, in other words.  This is the necessary Vehicle of Oneness or Ekayāna since vijñāna hides its duality in observer/observed which is why “vi” is prefixed to jñāna or knowing.  All discrimination is born out of this hidden duality.  Only the Vehicle of Oneness can overcome it.

Koans are, truth be told, a microcosm of our problem with discrimination, that is, consciousness and its moments (thoughts).  Koans will not yield to an intellectual unpacking.  Only with satori can you see their genius.

Zen’s anti-realism

Overcoming appearances that prevent us from realizing, directly, our true nature is much different than giving some metaphysical account of Buddhism that seems descriptively adequate but when all is said and done fails to bring us to actual self-realization, always falling short. 

One could even call the authentic Buddhist practitioner who struggles with overcoming appearances (both sensory and mental) an anti-realist.  Their goal is to one day achieve buddhatā (the state of being a buddha) which goes beyond appearances and is what Bodhidharma was talking about when he said, kenshō jōbutsu 見性成佛, that is, “intuit your true nature become a Buddha.”  He also said:

“Seeing your true nature is Zen. Unless you see your nature, it's not Zen” (transl. Red Pine, The Zen Teaching of Bodhidharma, p. 29).

Zen, these days, is no longer a kind of anti-realism but, instead, is been turned upside down being pro-realism as if to declare, “Live in the here and the now — there is nothing transcendent to realize.  You’re already a Buddha.”

To understand the sense of this is to understand our Zeitgeist which has become a time of personal despair otherwise called postmodernism which is a new kind of Marxism that is aimed at personal destruction.  The discovery of one’s true identity or nature is being unconsciously sacrificed for a life of wallowing, internally, in feelings and, externally, in appearances.  Maybe we should call this attained meaninglessness in which the only thing left to do is take drugs to relieve the pain — an analgesic way of life.

Buddhism or Zen’s anti-realism doesn’t go in this direction.  Our life in the flesh is an instrument, never an end in itself.  Surpassing its seeming realness, with all of its pain, hence, seeing our absolute nature is the goal.  We are meant to transcend our temporal self: to attain an ungraspable goal.  The Buddhas only come to those who search beyond this shore of human meaning; who are without presuppositions; who then become anointed by the indescribable Tathāgatas.

During intense meditation

The whole, naturally, is likened to the absolute but not the things that arise from within it which are its illusory phenomenalizations.  On the other hand, the substance or essence of these illusory phenomenalizations from which they are composed (saṃskṛta), is absolute.  We can also think of the absolute as pure Mind or spirit. 

During intense meditation we are aware of our thoughts (manas) but never the actual content which is the absolute.  We are unable to supersede our mini-world of personal thoughts with their unending displays.  No matter our efforts, we always come to a limit, or the same, we have come to Zen master Mumon’s barrier 關 that we cannot pass through which, by the way, is what all koans represent — answer one you get ‘em all. 

The content mentioned earlier is what the serious meditator is fixed upon; endeavoring to intuit it.  The meditator already knows the nothingness of thought; that it is something stirred up so that it is nothing again and again — never the actual content which is concealed by the stirring.

The stirred content is also the othering of the actual content that appears real but is only an illusion of the real.  Said again, the meditator already knows the nothingness of their thoughts even as both imagination and mental images.  Thought or the process of thinking is stirred content become other to its unstirred self that is not remembered (smṛti) by us. 

What is lacking for the meditator is they have not left the boundary of the altered or stirred content.  They are still facing Mumon’s barrier unable to make heads or tails of it.  Koans bring out this frustrating fact to consciousness.  One never is quite sure they fully understand, and never will until they see/remember the essence or content face-to-face.

Reading Buddhist books: a search for context

The modern academic style of writing as regards Buddhism, it seems to me, is often more of a search for Buddhism’s authentic context.  Lacking a context there can be no meaningful unpacking of Buddhism that brings, so to speak, a light to darkness. 

In this search for context, it is easy to stray into the world of opinions which, granted, are more than impressions but still fall under the category of being suppositions.  But Buddhism’s context should not be that hard to find; not has difficult as, for example, Christianity.

When people ask me if there are any helpful Buddhist books that I should read, I am often frustrated to reply because I know the beginner’s mind in addition to knowing that Buddhism’s context is not easy to see in many of today’s books.  But let us pretend that there is a rather remarkable book that you can buy on Amazon that lays out Buddhism giving the beginner its proper context.  In other words, it gets straight to the point.

Buddhism is the teaching of Siddhārtha Gautama who awakened to the essence or substance of the universe which includes all of its galaxies, all the way to thought and its essence.  His awakening, itself, can be best described as a sudden intuition or the same, immediate cognizance of essence that goes beyond reasoning and inferring.  This essence is totally uncomposed or the same, unconditioned.  It has neither shape nor is it thinkable.  Nevertheless, it is completely real and vital.  With proper effort are, personally, able to realize it by intuition.

But these words from this fictitious book can easily turn into a stumbling block:  an impediment to our understanding of Buddhism’s context, especially, when we enter, so to speak, the temple of Buddhism with too many wrong assumptions about Buddhism which don’t amount to a hill of beans but, nevertheless, are clung to like a child holding onto their baby blanket. 

Now comes an important question.  How are these wrong assumptions about Buddhism removed?  I guarantee you that it is not without difficulty.  Adding to this, we have to do most of the removing on our own with very little help from a teacher whose only real job is to admonish us, from time to time, showing us what should be avoided; reminding us also that our world, including even our thoughts, is only a configuration of this essence and that we must intuit this essence, directly, not just believe it or accept it on faith.

I know this also sounds easy and just common sense, but then if you are a teacher how do you deal with those who believe that Siddhartha denied the ātman (he didn’t) or the ātman transmigrates from one life to the next (consciousness, not ātman, is the transmigrant)?  What about all the confusion with emptiness or śūnyatā, which Western Buddhists turn into some kind of absolute negation without positive implication?  This doesn't even touch on what meditation is all about which I hasten to inject, is not about sitting.

Many times the Buddhist books, including books about Zen a person reads and believes are important, only help to reinforce their wrong beliefs about Buddhism and Zen.  We have never once in our lives intuited what thoughts are composed from.  This is a very alien idea for us.  In fact, we turn our thoughts into our last bastion of hope even engaging in logomachy.  See what thoughts are made from, transcending them — are you kidding?

Our age has more in common with Dante’s Inferno

In the Dhammapada (80) one line reads, “wise people (paṇḍitā) master their self (attānaṃ).”  The overall context here (verse 80), is about overcoming obstructions in the example of an engineer who builds canals and aqueducts to lead the water where it is needed or a fletcher who makes the bent wood straight to become an arrow.

Today, the idea of mastering one’s self, that is, perfecting it so that it is in unity with the absolute nature of reality, is not well understood nor is it taken, seriously, in Western culture. 

By not taking it seriously, few people can hope to rise to the level of a wise person (a pandita) and much less an awakened one (buddha) whose personal essence, perfectly, resonates with the essence of the universe.

In some respects, our age has more in common with Dante’s Inferno which is a realm of suffering for the dead who have willfully forsaken all spiritual inclinations and values; who have wallowed in bestial pleasures, gluttony, and avarice; even delighting in undermining every human virtue with fraud and deceit.  It even reminds one of the Buddha’s three poisons, namely, stupidity, hostility and desire which prevent one from ever attaining nirvana.

In such an age as ours, why would anyone wish to become wise so that they might master their self?  Anyway, what is there to gain that exceeds unbridled desire and pleasure — having it always your way without repercussions?  Just look at Hollywood.  There is the future — or is it? 

But what have we really done?  Look at what the Communists did beginning in the 20th century.  They murdered something like 150,000,000 people not counting war dead.  They made the Nazi’s atrocities look, seemingly, minuscule.  Thus far, we have managed to sweep this Communist horror under the historical carpet.  But why?  Perhaps, so we can bring it back again, repackaging it into some new kind of horror that hides behind words like “social justice" or “equal outcome.”

We did not recognize it but the 20th century was a modernized Inferno or Hell — not for the dead, but for we the living, and the 21st century is not far behind with new horrors looming on the horizon.

And where, exactly, is the source of this Inferno; its architect?  The source lies hidden by the media.  You will have to look hard for it in some university library.  And even if a few manage to find out who is behind the construction of this new Inferno, who is awake enough to believe it and not dismiss it as a conspiracy theory?

The problem with youth culture

The typical college campus can be and often is more of a reflection of youth culture’s transition to self-identity and with it adulthood which stands on the foundation of Darwinian fitness—like it or not.  But this transition is neither smooth nor easy and can easily turn into somewhat of a rebellion (a rebellion against leaving youth). 

The youthful urge to rebel can also be manipulated in which the curriculum is changed so that indoctrination gradually replaces education, the typical education being more about scholastic study, critical thinking, learning how to speak and write well, debate and learning about classical wisdom. 

By the way, this is all for the greater good of the individual helping them to transition to adulthood and not stay in a sort of Peter Pan Neverland where, to borrow the psychologist Erik H. Erikson’s term “role confusion” dominates preventing “identity” or the same, self-identity. 

During my time on this planet having made my own transition to self-identity through Buddhism, the huge majority of people I see today who are interested in Zen Buddhism are still immersed in youth culture trying to make the transition to self-identity.  Some have an easy time but most do not. 

Often more youth than adult, they are still very much self-conscious, that is, concerned with how they appear to others, and just as concerned with how they feel about themselves.  There is very little stability or self-confidence.  Such youth still cannot parent themselves.

A fake or partial transition to adulthood, if we could call it that, is to become ideologically minded, that is, to think and draw conclusions from our feelings and emotions which never rise to the level of knowledge or a -logy, that is, a science.  An example of this can be found in today’s climate change movement in which youth is enlisted by wealthy elites to carry their message, in the example of the Swedish teenage environmental activist Greta Thunberg.

Buddhist training doesn’t waste its time in movements conducted on ideological terms which only delay one’s transition to adulthood; offering, instead, a youthful utopia which is far from the shores of reality. 

My training under a Zen abbot was first about realizing that all conditioned life, without exception, is suffering and that my thirst for it is causing me to suffer the more I cling to it.  It was like one of those pot belly stoves that keeps the cabin warm in the winter.  Yes, it keeps you warm, but don’t put your hand on it.  You will get burned and suffer as a result.

Buddhism is meant to show us that the reality of our world is not what we imagine it to be.  It is an illusion which we gradually have to wean ourselves off of.  But youth culture is not here—not even close.  They remain confused as to who they really are.  They have not the slightest clue as to what is most profound and true within them. 

If youth doesn’t achieve some level of mature self-identity, somewhat like Freud’s “ego” whose job is to stop the untamed passions from destroying us and our future, youth will bring itself to ruin. 

I grew up in the 1960s and became a Zen monk in 1965.  It was a time of youth, from sex, psychedelics, rock & roll, to various liberation movements.  Some of them violent.  But all of this was led by youth.  Looking back, it was a great diversion from growing up and coming to self-identity.  It is happening again.  But now our colleges and universities are failing.  People don’t know who they are and they don't seem to care.