Some Post-Practice Period Ruminations

It was good to get back into regular zazen practice, though my way is not exactly that of the Zen center. Of course, "my way" started with instructions from the San Francisco Zen Center c. 1965 -- before it became hip and trendy, before New Age, before hippies. Zen was still very Japanese in those days. We were followers of Suzuki Roshi's training, and he went way back in Japanese Soto Zen practice. I think he was made a monk when he was 11, and that would have been sometime around 1915 or so. He brought Zen in perhaps its strictest and purest form from Japan to the United States in the late 1950s, but it didn't really catch on until a decade or so later. Even then, it was still very Japanese.

It isn't any more. Not really. And I've struggled with that. Some of the forms are still observed -- robes and chanting in "Sino-Japanese" (the chants transliterated into syllables, but no translation as such). Zendos. Cushions to sit upon. In fact The Cushion seems to have become the central fact of modern Western Zen. Being On the Cushion is sometimes thought of as Everything. Ok. Well. That's interesting.

During practice period, we had three one hour sits a day and then during sesshin, sitting increased to up to 8 hours a day and could go longer. For me? No. 

Sitting is very important in Zen practice, necessary in fact. But... a wealth of caveats are necessary too. 

Remember, I took up Zen based on instructions from San Francisco Zen Center in the mid '60s. I wasn't at the Center, so I couldn't practice the way they did with such rigid and formal discipline. I wasn't a monk, and I couldn't be. Guess what? I was told I didn't have to strictly observe the forms, that learning how to sit and making time to sit regularly, and the study of the Sutras and Paramitas was essentially all a lay practitioner of Zen needed to do. 

Zen appealed to me because it was so lean and straightforward. You could sit zazen anywhere, any time for as long or short a time as needed. By studying the Sutras and Paramitas, by incorporating the Four Noble Truths and the Eightfold Path, becoming the Dharma as it were, you were doing all you really needed to do. 

The rituals that Zen monks and officiants engaged in at temples and monasteries and in this country at Zen Centers that weren't either temples or monasteries were akin to Catholic or other church services. Necessary for some -- some of the time -- but rarely appropriate for continual practice by lay-people.

Who have lives to live. The point is to get to a point in practice where "practice" is everything you do in life. 

There is nothing that is Not-Practice. 

So what happens when this rotten old bhikkhu (as I call myself sometimes) enters the more rarefied and ritualized modern Zen world, and I look around and say, "Wait, this isn't Zen."

And yet it's appealing for what it is, a sort of amalgam of psychotherapy, counseling, Tibetan Buddhism, and bits and pieces of a Zen tradition barely recalled or understood mixed with memories of Santa Fe New Age.

OK, fine, let's go with it, see where it leads.

It was a remarkable experience, and an astonishing reminder of not only where I've been in my wandering bhikkhu phase, but where I'm headed, too.

I learned, among other things, that so much I thought I had forgotten was still with me and had been so incorporated into my day-to-day life, I took it for granted and didn't notice.

Very vivid memories were brought back, and I learned that those memories ("Dreams" if you want) are guideposts. They're there to be recollected, yes, but also to point forward: this is where you've been, and where you're going.

None of what I learned over the years has gone away. It's all still there. And for whatever reason or no reason, I'm not quite done yet. 

I've never lacked for teachers or guides. The Void I entered all those years ago showed me a vision of Truth that has never gone away, and it never left me.

Being as isolated as I've been during this pandemic was disruptive to what had come to be my routine as "bhikkhu in the world." That's not a bad thing at all. 

I've already seen how my viewpoint and actions have changed since starting the practice period, and how much I've recovered, and how much more I need to get done.

Zen is there as a pivot point, but it's not a whole lot more than that, and by golly, it's not for everyone. Nor is Buddhism. It is simply a way among many to exist in the world and act on our better nature. 

🙏

Impressions of Zoom Ango

Hm. Not quite a week into the program, I think I've got a handle on at least some of what's going on. Ango is a study-practice period in Zen monasteries, and this one will be going on for close to a month. Today is Easter, so there is something of a pause -- though we are free to continue practice as we see fit on our own, and there will be several Zoom sits during the day and evening.

"Practice." It consists of hours of sitting Zen, walking Zen, working Zen, and Zenning out. And immersive study. Textural study, dharma study, Bodhisattva study, listening, reading, thinking, and on occasion speaking about this study.

Years ago, one of our cats, Joe, was a Zen master. Joe would spontaneously go into a Zen state and calm everyone and had cat-compassion for everyone. He taught other cats to Zen, too, particularly the hyperactive ones, and Larry was one of his students. Larry was wildly hyperactive and always on edge. Larry learned after many failed attempts that he could sit Zen like Joe, and after Joe passed, it was up to Larry to teach the others. It was something to see. Larry still practices with complete assurance. Others are less likely to, but some of them can, and when they do, in the cat-sangha, there's an incomparable peace and quiet that descends on cat-landia.

Practicing Zen in the monastery is very strict, patterned, ritualized and somewhat... I don't want to say "empty" but maybe that's the right word. There are about a dozen residents and staff at this Zen center, and they go through the rituals several times a day, much as you might see at a Catholic church -- like today at Easter. By performing these practice rituals over and over again, they increase compassion in the world for all beings according to the dharma and bodhisattvas. Practice itself is the increase of compassion. 

Intellectually, this does not make sense. Practice -- on the material plane -- increases or decreases nothing except perhaps one's personal condition.