Restoring Bodhicitta

So, like I said, I started Zen practice nearly 60 years ago, inspired by curiosity about it from reading Jack Kerouac's novels (I bought Dharma Bums, Big Sur, and Desolation Angels at Tower Books) one summer, either 1964 or 65, I forget which now, and looking around for some kind of information/insight to what this "Zen" might be. 

Realistically, there wasn't much information available back then. After all, there was no internet, no Google, no YouTube, no Zoom. no videos, no email. I could go to the library and seek out books, if there were any, or I could contact one of the few Zen centers then in the United States and hope to receive some information and enlightenment.

I don't remember the exact process I went through. If it was the summer of 1964, I didn't have a car and couldn't drive, so it was difficult for me to get around. In 1965, I did have a driver's licence and access to a car sometimes. I only had my own car the next year, 1966. What I remember doing is contacting the San Francisco Zen Center by letter, asking for information/guidance and receiving a booklet about Buddhism in more or less general layman terms, and some specific information about Zen practice and nice hand-written letter from somebody named Richard or Robert or something with an invitation to come to the Center for more direct experience. And don't hesitate to contact the Center if I had any questions.

I wrote back saying I was in high school and was not able to come to San Francisco on my own nor could I possibly live there. Was there a way for me to learn and practice Zen from a distance? Apart from actually being at the Center?

The answer came back yes. With provisos. I could learn the practice, ie: how to do it, and I could learn the precepts and vows, and the Life of Buddha, on my own with minimal instruction, as it was very simple just to sit in meditation (as it was referred to then), and as long as I could read and follow instructions I would at least be able to begin. But unless I was prepared for the rigors of Zen practice and unless I was guided by experienced teachers, the best I could do would be an initial and maybe momentary enlightenment, maybe not even that. Yet the sitting itself and the intention was often enough to spark a real difference in perception and life. Did I want to try?

I said yes. 

Instruction came via US Mail. Brief life of the Buddha. Precepts, vows, the Three Treasures, etc. And references to other books and works I was to seek out. But most important was to sit. Just sit.

And sit I did.

I set up a corner of my bedroom with a cushion on the floor, an Oriental scroll on the wall, and a footstool on which I placed some Chinese and Japanese knick-knacks we had in the house. The scroll, I think, came from a visit to Chinatown in San Francisco some years previously.

And I sat. Well, at first I tried to, but it was difficult. It was particularly difficult to master the right position and posture on the cushion. Wrestling with legs going every which way, sitting up straight without a back rest, wondering what to do with my hands, whether to have my eyes closed or open, and just taking the time to sit rather than not was a challenge. Letting thoughts come and go while sitting was a challenge. All of this was taking place without a teacher at hand, no guided meditation recordings, and in a somewhat chaotic home environment in the heat of a Sacramento summer without air conditioning, or if I remember correctly, without even a fan in my room. 

Let me tell you, this was not a project or practice for the faint hearted. 

After the initial challenges though, I found I was able to do at least one 20 minute sitting session every day. My intention was that these sits would lead to enlightenment. In the Buddhist sense. 

Which I didn't understand.

Oh my no. I had essentially no idea what this "Enlightenment" was supposed to be. And was "satori" the same thing? Yes, no, maybe? 

Yes, I experienced satori, or what I thought satori might be, sudden insight into the deeper nature of things that I hadn't realized before. But was this Enlightenment the way the Buddha was enlightened? I didn't think so, and it wasn't possible to find out. So I went with satori and didn't worry a whole lot about Enlightenment because it would come or not on its own. Right?

One of the precepts was that of regular practice, sitting without an end to be gained, just to sit and by sitting possibly clear your mind. The mind was both the enemy and the primary resource, necessary and deceptive. Deceptions and delusions arose in your mind and could only be tamed by training your mind to recognize the illusory nature of thoughts and the often destructive nature of emotions. 

You don't become enlightened by sitting in meditation (not referred to as meditation any more) but sitting can be a pathway toward enlightenment. It can help open the door as it were. Enlightenment comes on its own because in essence you're already enlightened, already a Buddha, you just don't know it. 

 And so on. 

The rigor of Zen comes from constant and consistent practice, study and work. Zen is simple but demanding. You can do it on your own, but it will be more difficult, at some points impossible without a teacher and sangha.

At the time, Zen was very strongly linked and tied to traditional Japanese culture, art and architecture. Zen Buddhism wasn't as widely practiced in Japan as Shinto and other forms of Buddhism, but it was perhaps the most influential practice because of its adoption by members of the Imperial Household and much of the Samurai class during the feudal period. It was still an important and influential Buddhist practice in Japan.

For me, learning Zen meant learning about and adopting portions of that Japanese cultural and artistic framework, the "style" if you will, which at the time was considered eccentric and exotic to many western eyes. 

So I did what I could to "be Japanese" but ultimately understood that the style was perhaps the least of the Zen characteristics. 

Neither Zen nor any other Buddhist practice was widely known in the United States at the time, and Zen being the practice of the upper classes and elites it was perhaps the least known because most of the immigrants from Japan were not Samurai, were not of the highest rank, were not royal. Far from it. Most did not bring Zen with them, and most did not adopt it once they were in the United States.

What appealed to me about Zen was not any of that, any of the deeper social significance of Zen and Zen practice, or anything about social stratification in medieval Japan. It was, perhaps in the back of my mind, but not paramount. No, what I was looking for and what I saw in Zen early on was a spiritual means to "calm my mind." Given largely chaotic adolescence and home life, I saw Zen as a practical and spiritual means to shut it down, withdraw, and restore or come to an Awakened Mind -- Bodhicitta (not, however, knowing what that meant.) 

At the lowest level, it worked. Almost like magic. A Zen master would say that was a sign of danger. That I was probably straying too far from the Dharma Path. But that, in a sense, heading off in whatever direction I found was what I needed to do. 

The Buddha was within me, the Dharma was me, the Sangha was with whomever I found on the Dharma Path even if they didn't know it.

And so, close to 60 years later, I'm back near the beginning of that journey. 

Not starting over but renewing. Restoring. Re-committing.