Zen and Poetry: a Brief Conversation

The following discussion on Zen and Poetry took place at Dharma Zen Center in Los Angeles on March 17, 1997. My Grand-Teacher, Zen Master Sŭngsan agreed to meet with me to answer my questions about the role poetry plays in meditation practice as well as in teaching and conveying Zen mind to the Western World. It is included here to serve as a catalyst of understanding for Zen Poetry as well as a wonderful teaching about how we all can live in this world.

Dochong: Hello sir, I’m very happy to see you again. You are looking quite well after your recent eye surgery, so I hope you are up to these many questions I have brought. I decided to write them on a list so I wouldn’t forget what it was I wanted to discuss with you. So if you are ready we’ll get started.

Zen Master Seung Sahn: (glancing at the ominous list in my hand) So, you have many questions?

DC: Yes Sir, I realize this isn’t our normal Zen style, but I felt it would be important to students, as well as readers of poetry, to understand how you, a Zen Master, might approach the subject of poetry. Along this line, if you don’t mind, the first question is; why do you, as a Zen Master, bother to compose poems?

ZMSS: For you. (the two of us laugh at this answer)

DC: Thank you very much for all your wonderful gifts! That’s a very good answer. I was wondering about when you compose a poem, do you actually reflect on the situation and then write using “beautiful language?”

ZMSS: No. Only whatever situation comes up or appears, then I will compose a poem. Not so much checking situations, and not so much making something.

DC: So, what you are saying is that only just this moment, whatever appears is usually your subject for a poem.

ZMSS: Exactly, this moment appears, then compose a poem.

DC: In your teaching I have often heard you say that people suffer from word sickness so word medicine is necessary. Along those lines would you describe how you use language in your poetry?

ZMSS: Simple! Only whatever situation comes up or appears! Any style of writing is OK. You know, Korean, Japanese, English, any kind of writing, but most importantly only what appears.

DC: As you say, “Simple.” But, this all seems much too simple to a complicated mind. I love reading your poetry because it allows me to connect to this moment, so what if I was to say to you, “I love your poems; they are so beautiful,” what would you say to me in response?

ZMSS: I don’t care! (much laughter.)

DC: Of course! I should have known you’d say that! In your teaching you often talk about candy, which can be words, or possibly artwork, or even the environment surrounding us, something that gives us a good feeling. You also use existential questions known as Kong-ans (Japanese: Koans) which have hooks in them designed to catch our conceptual mind and trap us within the labyrinth of our own thinking. Eventually out of this internal struggle with trying to understand that which cannot be conceptualized will come some opening to the world of truth. Considering all this then, a Zen Master’s words can sometimes be candy and sometimes hooks. Is there candy in your poems? Are there hooks? And would you explain what you mean?

ZMSS: Yes, sometimes candy and sometimes hooks appear in my poems, but realize that I don’t create candy or hooks in these poems. They are written, with no intention, only for all of my students.

DC: OK., so I know that you have studied the poetry of other Zen Masters and sometimes quote their poems in your talks as well as in print; an example would be in one of your recent books, The Whole World is a Single Flower. What happens in your mind when you read or hear other people’s poetry?

ZMSS: I never check other people’s poetry. The mind with which I read or comment on another’s poetry is only a practicing mind, so their meaning appears, then I only comment.

DC: So, you keep a clear mind to penetrate the meaning of other’s poetry, but I wondering what is the best way to read your poems so that I may learn your teaching?

ZMSS: Put it all down, everything! Then my mind and your mind can connect.

DC: That’s not so easy. To some extent, I suppose we all are trying to find the meaning in life, to transcend our attachment to intellectual understanding. But, I was wondering, is poetry Zen? Does true poetry manifest Zen mind?

ZMSS: Zen mind, poetry mind, writing mind, practicing mind, are all not different.

DC: So would you say it is better to write poems or to talk about poems?

ZMSS: I really don’t like to talk about poems. If you see clear, hear clear, and smell clear, then everything is clear. So, only what appears then only write that down. Not so much like poetry people getting together talking about this poem is this and that poem is something else. This is making something, like painting legs on the picture of a snake, a snake doesn’t need legs to get around. I don’t use this style so much.

DC: So, if I might paraphrase what you just said and ask it another way; only reading the poem, then (claps hands) cut off all thinking, and then only what appears in this moment is all that is necessary?

ZMSS: Yes. It’s very simple. For example, in my poetry book, Bone of Space, when I traveled around Europe, for each city I visited I wrote a poem. If you read these poems you will understand the situation, condition and relationship that existed during that trip—how I connected to this country, how I connected to this city, and how I understood these cities. Something would appear and I would only compose a poem. This is not special, in writing poetry I only see clearly, hear clearly, smell clearly, and think clearly. My thinking is also clear, not checking anything, just thinking clearly. So then, just think, just think clearly and then compose a poem. That was the poetry style I used going around to those various cities. Only what appeared I would write down.
DC: I have another question. In the west there is a rhyming poetry style, or in Japan there is Haiku which is limited to 32 syllables, these are poetic structures. These structures or forms are interesting but seem to sometime limit or control the expression. In the spirit of Zen it appears to me that Zen poetry has no structure, is this correct?

ZMSS: Yes, that is correct.

DC: So, just whatever appears we should write down?

ZMSS: Haiku poets all only follow this Japanese style. This style is very tight and everyone is attached to the form. Zen means, don’t attach to name and form. Perceive everything. Don’t attach to any country, any people, any form, any situation, any condition, only bring them together, then become one. Then, if some idea appears, or some form appears, or some speech appears, that’s all, OK.? My poetry is not making something, it is a manifestation of seeing clearly, hearing clearly and thinking clearly, then the poem appears by itself.
A long time ago in Japan there was a region known as Matsushima. Matsushima is a location near the ocean, surrounded by mountains, rivers, trees and flowers. This was a very beautiful area and attracted many poets and artists. All of the poets would travel to this place and then compose many beautiful poems. Eventually many books about Matsushima appeared. Around this same period, a very famous Zen Master and Poet named Basho read these poems and looked at the artwork and decided to visit Matsushima to see this wondrous place for himself. When Basho saw the beauty of this place he wrote the following poem, only three sentences:

Matsushima—
ah, Matsushima!
Matsushima!
Only three sentences. This is a very famous Zen poem. This is the heart of Zen you know. Only Matsushima is Matsushima, it is very simple.

DC: Wow, I don’t think you can get simpler than that. I suppose the poetry I have written doesn’t have the simplicity of Basho’s three lines, but I would appreciate your comments on a poem I wrote while both of us were visiting Nam Wah Sah in China in 1996. Because we shared the same experience it would be helpful to me to have your comments.

It is called All People Become One.

people have come to Hui Neng’s Temple
to celebrate
“The Whole World is a Single Flower,
All People Become One.”
China
Korea
Hong Kong
Malaysia
Russia
South Africa
Canada
USA
Poland
Hungary
the abbot Fo Yuen is happy to see us.
Dae Soen Sa Nim
has achieved the impossible again.
one man’s vision, bring Zen back to China
chanting the Heart Sutra, the main Buddha Hall
reverberates with joy.
if all people become one,
what does the one become?
So Sir, in all my humbleness I ask you, would you consider this Zen poetry?

ZMSS: Yes, this poem is OK. However, in Zen poetry, or any kind of poem, the last sentence is very important. In the end of this poem you have some question, correct? You say; ‘If all people become one, what does the one become?’ This sentence is correct, but the next line, the last line, is very important.

DC: So, what you are saying is that I haven’t quite finished this poem?

ZMSS: That is correct, one more line is necessary. I might suggest that you add this as the last line; ‘I bow to the statue of the Sixth Patriarch.” This was the Sixth Patriarch’s temple that we were visiting so some comment about our Ancestor is necessary to properly finish this poem. This last line is very important. This one sentence. This is a live sentence, in my Zen teaching we call that, just like this.

DC: Let me understand what you just said. You are saying that Zen Poetry always should end with some type of live sentence, or in Zen terminology, a just like this sentence.

ZMSS: Of course, this is a very important point. This last sentence is most important.

DC: OK. So this brings the poem full circle and gives it life.

ZMSS: Correct. These are live words. So poems are; only thinking, thinking, thinking, thinking, then some question appears, then boom! – live words!

DC: Like you always tell us “cut off all thinking,” right? Only this moment. So this style is also teaching people. When they read that, then they may say “Oh, yes this is very simple, all of this thinking, but then everything returns to this moment.”

ZMSS: Yes, in this moment, boom! – just like this! (more laughter) So, you like to make these poems. That is very wonderful, you are a great man.

DC: Now that I have my courage up may we try another poem from the same trip we shared.
.
Chogye Mountain

nestled into Chogye Mountain
Nam Wah Sa is the birthplace
of our current practice.
more than 1,000 years have passed
since the illiterate man
built this place.
many enlightened beings
have tread its hallways.
the energy is overwhelming
to walk in the footsteps
of the 6th Patriarch.
to see the tradition live on,
South China Temple
will emerge from
the Communist rubble
like the lotus flower
emerges from the mud.
Om nam,
Om nam........

ZMSS: Oh, this poem is very good. Om nam, Om nam… is very good to close the poem with, but again this is the Sixth Patriarch’s temple, so in this case some line or word from the Sixth Patriarch is necessary. Maybe you could say, “originally nothing” and insert it just before Om nam. Right here. So then the end of the poem reads; Originally nothing, Om nam, Om nam…. You understand? Then you give this poem some life and connection with Hui Neng.

DC: Yes I can see that. Thank you for your assistance, thank you very much. I started writing poetry after reading Cold Mountain by Han Shan and Bone of Space which is your book of poetry. I am attracted to Han Shan because of his honest simplicity and I enjoy your poems because they cut through my thinking and bring me right into the present moment.

ZMSS: What do you see now? What do you here now? Just become clear.
(Zen Master Sŭngsan actually just asked me a question and I missed it!)
DC: I began to assemble this book of poems to help with Zen practice. Only, thinking, thinking, thinking, thinking, then, as you said, – what now? Only return to this moment, what am I seeing, touching, smelling. I look at each moment, much as I do a poem I have written.

ZMSS: So, you must understand that everything is changing, changing, changing. Mountains, rivers, this earth, the sun, the stars, everything is changing. But, what is the one thing that is not changing? So, this is a very important point, the world is changing, changing, changing, but what is it that is not changing?

DC: (I had been carrying this idea for quite some time before this discussion and was happy that I was getting to express it with the founding teacher of my school, little did I know....) I would have to say, don’t know. Don’t know is never changing.

ZMSS: (he smiles a crooked smile I have seen far too often, which tells me I missed the mark again) Nooooo! Don’t know is also changing! (then breaks into much more laughter)

DC: (a little startled because the rug got pulled out again) So Sir, you won’t ever give me anything to attach to, will you?!

ZMSS: So I ask you, what is not changing? This moment is very important; but, what is not changing? Don’t know, is no problem. Why, is no problem. Questioning, is no problem. But, what is not changing? This means, your shirt is grey and your beard is brown. That’s all. Life sentence. Just like this—this moment. This moment mind is never changing, this moment is the truth. What do you see now, what do you hear now, what action is occurring right now. This moment is very important. But also, not now! This moment is very important. Buddha taught us that past, present and future are the three worlds, OK? Each of these worlds are changing. Zen teaches we have no past, we have no present and we have no future, because if you say present that is already past. Time is non stop, so we have no present. In the Diamond Sutra it says, “Past mind cannot get enlightenment, present mind cannot get enlightenment, future mind also cannot get enlightenment.” So, what kind of mind do you get. That’s a very important point. This means that everything is always changing, time is always changing, the present is always changing, the future is always changing, and space is also changing. Also, any kind of name and form is changing, and the truth is changing. If you say the truth and already it is changing. So, we don’t say truth. But if you don’t say truth, then what is truth? This means, maybe shouting, “KATZ!,” then saying; “sky is blue, tree is green,” that’s all. Your poetry should also be this style. When you compose a poem, then maybe some kind of opposites thinking will appear, like crying and laughing or coming and going, so you write this down. Then by itself a question appears – boom! Life sentence.

DC: So if I had a second chance at answering your question, I would answer; your sweater is grey.

ZMSS: Correct. Very simple. Your statement is like Basho’s trip to Matsushima where he didn’t really say anything. Many other poets wrote very special words to describe their experiences. But he only said;

Matsushima—
ah, Matsushima!
Matsushima!

Only Matsushima. This is number one very important point. If you want to understand poetry that is great Zen poetry.

DC: I gather then what you are saying is that if you want to understand Matsushima you must visit Matsushima on your own, then Basho’s mind and my mind become one is possible.

ZMSS: If you want to understand Matsushima you must go over there and see. Matsushima is not different.............

Bodhichitta Practice

Bodhichitta is a Sanskrit word which roughly translated means, “the awakened heart–mind.” The use of the translation of the Chinese charater ‘hsin’ as ‘heart–mind’ is more important than may first be realized. Both the Vedic and Chinese traditions use a term for our psychic essence that has no current English language equivalent; consequently, using the word ‘heart’ is too emotional and using the word ‘mind’ is too cortical to accurately define what was meant by these teachers about our human essence. So, this leads us to using Bodhichitta as a word which must find its own place now in the English vernacular for its meaning is the aspiration to transcend our emotional afflictions and delusions and to realize our full potential by bringing all sentient beings to an enlightened state free which is from dukkha or dis-ease.

Nagarjuna, who lived in what is now eastern India, was a first century apostolic disciple of Sakyamuni Buddha, and his philosophical treatises eventually became the foundation of what we know as Mahayana Buddhism today. The philosophic practice of bodhichitta born from Nagarjuna philosophy later came to be known as Tonglen in Vajrayana Buddhism and as “loving kindness meditation” by the Theravadan (the Teachings of the Elders) practitioners. However, this practice is not the exclusive domain of Tibetan or even its Theravadan proponents, it is simply the manifestation of the Bodhisattva archetype and has now come to be known as Bodhichitta practice. It is a practice that is truly non-sectarian: as it is, any person, from any tradition, culture, gender – even atheists – can do it!

Through my own growth within this rich and fulfilling practice I have come to view it as one of the many doors leading into the same room of personal insight or enlightenment. It may also be considered one of the many antidotes or medicines the Buddha offered for us to take, in alleviating our suffering springing from the three poisons of anger, greed or ignorance. I have personally discovered that this practice is complimentary as well as being in complete alliance with all forms of Zen practice which are popular in the West today.

The purpose of bodhichitta practice is to assist us in accessing, cultivating, and developing our inherent compassion and courage to be of benefit to all other sentient beings. Furthermore, I have found bodhichitta meditation to have dramatically helped me in healing emotional pain, clarifying and pacifying the mind, and upon several occasions resulted in the recovery from physical illness and/or injury. These seeming metaphysical events have been collaborated by friends and relatives as well as impartial observers throughout my long experimentation with these practice techniques.

The practice of bodhichitta is simply using all existing phenomena whether it is painful or pleasurable instead of it using us. We look at all of what we are experiencing with gentleness and without judgment. We are not trying to throw any part of ourselves away, or become a new, improved version of our self; what Pema Chodron refers to as “a subtle aggression against what is”. We are not separate from our qualities such as fear, joy, jealously greed, etc. We ARE our qualities. We don’t want to “throw the baby out with the bathwater”.

We all have this baby Buddha/Bodhisattva within us. It deserves a chance to grow up. So to begin in helping this baby grow up you only have to have to have experienced some suffering and pleasure, and have the aspiration to want to help yourself and be of benefit to others.

In bodhichitta practice we are cultivating fearlessness. We all experience fear; even animals and insects experience it. Fear is about wanting to protect our heart and not wanting to feel any pain or discomfort. We try to avoid it at all costs and the shields and defenses start going up. But as the late Chogyam Trungpa Rinpoche said, “It’s because we are tenderhearted to begin with that we try to protect our hearts.”

By doing do this practice over time, I have experienced my heart opening up more and more and fear controlling me less and less. Just observing it objectively – (like a scientist looking with his full attention through a microscope) is exactly what begins to neutralize it! This has been proven in science by the way: that the mere observation begins to mutate what is being observed.

All beings want the same thing: Happiness. But we go hunting for it in the wrong direction: out there: We may get our “good thing” but ultimately it turns out to be a temporary happiness because everything is always changing and we cannot keep the transient, static or the infinite finite. So when our “good thing” changes, and eventually it inevitably will, we find ourselves once again very unhappy.

But the true treasure, the source of our real joy, never goes away or leaves us forsaken. Pema Chodron has put it beautifully: “We don’t have to feel like poverty-stricken paupers, because right in our heart is everything anyone could ever wish for in terms of open, courageous warmth and clarity. Everybody has it, but not everybody has the courage to let it ripen”.

Bodhichitta is referred to as the practice of sending and taking or giving and receiving. Some practices instruct you to breathe in the “good” and breathe out the “bad”. There is nothing wrong with this and it may work up to a certain point but it is somewhat limited because it is only for your benefit alone.

With bodhichitta you do the opposite: breathe in the “bad” and breathe out the “good”. You invite in your suffering and that of others and breathe out a wish or prayer that “May my suffering help to alleviate that of others”. Already you might start feeling a bit better because you know you are not alone. There are countless others who have suffered before you, with you right now, and will suffer after you are gone. And there are many more whose suffering is so much worse than yours.

If you are feeling happiness during this practice then breathe that in and give it away to others on the out-breath.

Bodhichitta is a “cleaning tool” for me. It helps sweep away the dust and dirt so I don’t forget I and others have this treasure and so it doesn’t become obscured from me. Also I do this practice in conjunction with Zen to keep reminding me of my own and others’ basic goodness and stay open – to keep cultivating fearlessness. And because it helps bring to life the Four Great Vows:

Sentient beings are numberless I vow to help them all.
Delusions are endless I vow to cut through them all.
The teachings are infinite I vow to learn them all.
And the Buddha Way is inconceivable and I vow to attain it.

We can do this practice for our loved ones, friends, enemies, animals, the planet, even for the ones we don’t know and have no feeling for one way or the other. We can use any situation of pain and pleasure and we can do it anywhere, any time. And the price is right: We only have to pay for our happiness by surrendering what is making us suffer to begin with.

In a world gone mad with such strife and horrors like never before in history, we who have such fortunate circumstances and the luxury and opportunity to practice, have a responsibility to try to discover our heart of hearts and find the guts we possess to be of benefit to our self and our world.

You might wonder will doing this practice of breathing in the “dark” and breathing out the “light” harm me. Absolutely not! When you exchange yourself for another, how can it?

Once a Korean woman, Dr. Choi Dae Poep Sa who was in Paris said; after trying to teach some of Seung Sahn Zen Master’s’ students, told him with some derision, “Your students are all junk!” to which he replied, “Yeah, but Zen means take junk and turn into a treasure.”

So I hope that you have faith in your sympathetic, courageous heart, be willing to help it ripen, turning your junk into your treasure and know your life can develop into a living prayer.
What’s better than that?

The Six Realms of Existence

The six worlds arising through ignorance and attachment, through which we alternate continuously.

1. Heavenly Realm.
world of enjoyment, pleasure or pleasant things.

2. Asura Realm.
sometimes we are happy, sometimes we are sad.

3. Human Realm.
world of fighting, or strife.

4. Animal Realm.
without reason, being dominated by desires.

5. Demon/Hungry Ghost Realm.
dissatisfaction, not being content.

6. Hell Realm.
state of suffering and pain.

These are the six realms in which we live our lives, constantly shifting up and down the scale. According to rebirth consciousness we are reborn into these realms as our situation, condition and function changes. If we are thinking then the six realms exist. If we are not thinking then the six realms cease to exist.

Moses and the Shepherd

Moses heard a shepherd on the road praying, “God, where are you? I want to help you, to fix your shoes and comb your hair. I want to wash your clothes and pick the lice off. I want to bring you milk to kiss your little hands and feet when it's time for you to go to bed. I want to sweep your room and keep it neat. God, my sheep and goats are yours. All I can say, remembering you, is ayyyy and ahhhhhhhhh.”

“Who are you talking to?” Moses could stand it no longer. “The one who made us, and made the earth and made the sky.” “Don't talk about shoes and socks with God! And what's this with your little hands and feet? Such blasphemous familiarity sounds like you're chatting with your uncles. Only something that grows needs milk. Only some one with feet needs shoes. Not God! Even if you meant God's human representatives, when God said, 'I was sick, and you did not visit me,' then this tone would be foolish and irreverent. Use appropriate terms. Fatima is a fine name a woman, but if you call a man Fatima, an insult. Body-and-birth language right for us on this side of the river; not for addressing the origin, not for Allah.”

The shepherd repented and tore his clothes and sighed and wandered out into the desert. A sudden revelation came then to Moses. God's voice: You have separated me from one of my own. Did you come as a Prophet to unite, or to sever? I have given each being a separate and unique way of seeing and knowing and saying that knowledge. What seems wrong to you is right for him. What is poison to one is honey to someone else. Purity and impurity, sloth and diligence in worship, these mean nothing to me. I am apart from all that. Ways of worshiping are not to be ranked as better or worse than one another. Hindus do Hindu things. The Dravidian Muslims in India do what they do. It's all praise, and it's all right. It's not me that's glorified in acts of worship. It's the worshipers! I don't hear the words they say. I look inside at the humility. That broken-open lowliness is the reality, not the language! Forget phraseology. I want burning, burning. Be friends with your burning. Burn up your thinking and your forms of expression! Moses, those who pay attention to ways of behaving and speaking are one sort. Lovers who burn are another. Don't impose a property tax on a burned-out village. Don't scold the Lover. The “wrong” way he talks is better than a hundred “right” ways of others. Inside the Kaaba it doesn't matter which direction you point your prayer rug! The ocean diver doesn't need snowshoes! The love-religion has no code or doctrine. So the ruby has nothing engraved on it! It doesn't need markings. Only God. God began speaking deeper mysteries to Moses. Vision and words, which cannot be recorded here, poured into and through him. He left himself and came back. He went to eternity and came back here. Many times this happened. It's foolish of me to try and say this. If I did say it, it would uproot our human intelligences. It would shatter all writing pens. Moses ran after the shepherd.

He followed the bewildered footprints, in one place moving straight like a castle across a chessboard. In another; sideways, like a bishop. Now surging like a wave cresting, now sliding down like a fish, with always his feet making geomancy symbols in the sand, his wandering state. Moses finally caught up “I was wrong. God has revealed to me that there are no rules for worship. Say whatever and however your loving tells you to. Your sweet blasphemy is the truest devotion. Through you a whole world is freed. Loosen your tongue and don't worry what comes out. It's all the light of the spirit.” The shepherd replied, “Moses, Moses, I've gone beyond even that. You applied the whip and my horse shied and jumped out of itself. The divine nature and my human nature came together. Bless your scolding hand and your arm. I can't say what has happened. What I'm saying now is not my real condition. It can't be said.” The shepherd grew quiet.

When you look in a mirror, you see yourself, not the state of the mirror. The flute player puts breath into a flute, and who makes the music? Not the flute. The flute player! Whenever you speak praise or thanksgiving to God, it's always like this dear shepherd's simplicity. When you eventually see through the veils to how things really are, you will keep saying again and again, “This is certainly not like we thought it was!”

Jellaudin Rumi, translated by Coleman Barks

Five Mountain Sangha

There are five primary aspects of Zen training in the Five Mountain Sangha. Primarily, it is important for each student to establish their direction by adopting two processes; the first of these are adopting the Buddhist vows and second is attained through following the precepts. Every morning and evening our students recite the four great vows which reminds them of their chosen path. As the students progress, they may take more advanced precepts, which establishes more firmly their dedication to the Buddha, the Dharma and the Sangha. Perhaps the greatest vow that one must take is with his or her self, Buddhist practice can only be done by the student and nothing can substitute for this primary commitment. Practicing allows the student to slowly release their attachments to their opinion, their condition and their situation. The Zen Teacher can respond to this commitment by sharing his or her unconditional compassion.
The next aspect of training is the process by which the student begins to clean their own kárma. This is accomplished by bowing one hundred and eight times (or some reduced number when a student’s health does not permit) every day. Correct bowing means that the student must, with each prostration, allow their (small) I to take refuge in their Big (universal) I. Additionally, students perform many acts of together action at our Zen Centers as well as in their extended community. Every deed of selfless compassion helps to clean our kárma. It is very hard for a student to change their kárma if they live and practice in isolation.
The third aspect of student training involves leaning how to focus their attention, so that they might experience a before-thinking mind. This allows an experiential contact with their original nature and is sometimes called kensho (to perceive one’s nature). Meditation, both seated and walking, various types of yoga and some types of martial arts are all useful in this training. The Five Mountain Sangha emphasizes sitting Zen as the core of this training.
The fourth aspect of training involves expanding the student’s generosity of spirit. In our group we call it developing our Bodhisattva intention. Chanting helps to open a student’s heart, which is at the core of Bodhisattva intention. Zen Master Seung Sahn once said that we must chant for years in order to develop a tear in our voice. This can facilitate the students to share their feelings of generosity and become helpful to other people in the Sangha (and their extended community) through genuine service.
The fifth aspect of training is insight training, and this is Koan study, and Dharma talks. Koan training is many-sided and is used initially to give the student a map of the territory. The training introduces the student to the history of Zen and its primary teachers and leaders. It also brings them into a relationship with the basic cognitive aspects of Zen teaching. The actual attainment of insight is not the same as understanding the map of the territory of Zen. A second purpose of Koan training is that it will illuminate to the student those places where their kárma prevents them from seeing clearly.
The student and the teacher must approach Koan training in the correct spirit. There is no room for arrogance. There is also, no secret knowledge associated with passing particular Koans. Arrogance always comes from dry cognition; a cleverness, which only creates more kárma. And, this kárma is usually more difficult to overcome that any previous kárma accumulated by an individual. Conversely, genuine insight results in a widening of the generosity of spirit of the student.

Rumi's Valentine Gift

I have followed Coleman Barks and Robert Bly for years, and their collaboration is beyond explanation. But here is my pick for a Valentines Poem from Rumi. May Allah be a light to all of us.

where does your fist go?

To illustrate how thought and language distort our perception of reality, the great twentieth century Zen Philosopher, Alan Watts, once posed the question, “Where does my fist go when I open my hand?” Watts wrote that in this question the word “fist” is “a verb masquerading as a noun.” He explained that a fist is an activity rather than a physical thing, but that our conceptual thinking hides this fact. If this is so, then are there any physical things anywhere? For example, where does a rock go when it erodes? Where does a cloud go when it dissipates? Where do we go when our body ceases to breathe? Every form that we conceive will eventually lose its form. A rock obviously holds its form longer than a cloud, but the principle is the same. Why, then, do we believe that something continues after our own bodily form disappears? Is it dreaming, or is there some part of us that survives our loss of form? If we have a soul, for example, why doesn’t a fist have a soul? The question about the fist is not nearly as trivial as it might at first seem.
To help sense the truth, we might open and close our hand several times. We could contemplate rather than think about what we see. We might look at this activity with our eyes rather than with our thought habits. Where does our fist come from and where does it go? Why do we imagine that we see a thing called a fist at all? In fact, when we look at the visual field in front of our eyes, our intellect creates an amazing illusion. First, it conceives form and void. Next, it symbolizes our concepts of form and void with words. Then, it repeats this sequence of events so often that we mistake the thoughts and words for the truth. Our intellect divides a seamless action into static states. It is like taking a still-life photograph when we need a video camera to capture the truth. A still-life photograph cannot capture motion. In the same way we see concepts of form rather than the truth. As we do this over and over again, we begin to think that these static images are the truth. This deadly mental process is so subtle and so habitual that it usually goes unexamined.
It is easy to understand that different words can represent the same form. For example, we could call a fist a “furkle” if we wished. However, it is not as easy to understand that concepts of form are equally arbitrary and artificial. Mistakenly, we imagine that the things we imagine are separate things rather than products of imagination. The process of conception thereby creates a kind of mirage that blinds us to reality. A fist is actually a concept a way of statically picturing an aspect of the truth. It is a way of mentally freezing the action. Rocks, trees, and human beings are also concepts. The reality from which these forms are abstracted is beyond all concepts or words! As we grow from childhood to adulthood our thinking gradually creates the illusion that the universe is a big thing composed of many little things, but it simply isn’t true!
The act of conception artificially divides something that is fundamentally indivisible. In the process, it destroys something holy. Conception is the reason that Adam had to leave the Garden of Eden (the real world); he began to create and then live in an imaginary world created by his intellect. He began to conceive ideas of physical objects, ideas of qualities, ideas of relationships, and ideas of measurement. He thereby lost the one thing that transcends all ideas. Each child goes through the same process symbolized by Adam. Born innocent and unified with reality, each child learns to imagine a world composed of things. The challenge of the spiritual life is to find a way to escape that imagined world.
To break free of the illusion that the world is composed of things, we must learn to look without seeing form and void. For example, can we look at our hand without imagining that it is a hand? Can we see what is in front of our eyes without imagining anything? Can we look at the action in front of our eyes without psychologically freeze-framing it? Can we look at the world and not see it as if it were divided into abstract states?
When we first try to see the world without conception, our thoughts will carry us away, but each time that happens, we must bring ourselves back to what our eyes see. We must look until we can see what Is.
The good news that Buddha and every other great spiritual teacher has taught is that the ordinary world of time, space, and objects is an illusion; it is like thinking that we see a fist when we close our hand. Like fists, human bodies appear for a few moments and then disappear. Where do these bodies come from and where do they go? Doesn’t it seem strange that we are not concerned about where we came from? If we do not know where we came from, why should we be concerned about where we are going? Our ordinary thinking about this issue hides the startling truth.
To see through the illusion of thingness requires that we leave the world of the intellect and see who and what we are. In fact, we were here before this body appeared and we will be here long after this body has disappeared. Anyone who is willing to make the effort can wake up and verify this simple fact. It does not require ideas, beliefs, faith, or religious rituals. It only requires using our perception in a different way.
The fist that seems to disappear when we uncurl our fingers does not go away. It is still here. Can we see it? Every single fist that we have ever made in our life is still here! Even if we had wanted to get rid of all of those fists, where could we have put them? No matter where we look, there is only one amazing thing before our eyes. Can we see it?
If we choose to identify with a human body, then we must die when this body dies. However, if we choose not to be attached to a personal identity, then we will perceive something quite different. Forms come and go, but the field from which forms appear and disappear is infinite. The field is who we are.

Bodhidharma

About one thousand four hundred years ago, Emperor Wu of the Southern Province of China became converted to Buddhism. He began building temples, commissioning the translation of Buddhist scriptures, and sending out missionaries. After several years spent spreading the religion of Buddhism, he learned that Bodhidharma, an enigmatic spiritual master who would eventually become recognized as the first patriarch of Zen Buddhism, was living in his kingdom and arranged a meeting with him. When they met, Emperor Wu said to Bodhidharma,

I have made Buddhism the national religion. I have built countless stupas and temples. I have had the scriptures translated and I am responsible for converting millions of people to Buddhism. What merit have I thereby attained?

Bodhidharma replied, “No merit whatsoever.” The Emperor was shocked because this response was not at all what he had expected and also because Bodhidharma was obviously unafraid of insulting him. He then said, “Perhaps I don’t fully understand the teaching of the Buddha. How do you understand it?” Bodhidharma replied, “In vast emptiness, no holiness!” This confused the Emperor even more, so in desperation and indignation he asked, “Who do you think you are?” Bodhidharma only answered, “Don’t know!” Then he turned around and walked away.

Jesus Christ touched on the issue raised in this conversation when he said,

Be careful not to make a show of your religion before men; if you do, no reward awaits you in your Father’s house in heaven. Thus, when you do some act of charity, do not announce it with a flourish of trumpets, as the hypocrites do in the synagogue and in the streets to win admiration of men. I tell you this: they have their reward already. No; when you do some act of charity, do not let your left hand know what your right is doing; your good deed must be secret, and your Father who sees what is done in secret will reward you. Again, when you pray, do not be like the hypocrites; they love to say their prayers standing in the synagogue and at the street-corners, for everyone to see them. I tell you this: they have their reward already. But when you pray, go into a room by yourself, shut the door, and pray to your Father who is there in the secret place; and your Father who sees what is secret will reward you.

Probably the hardest thing to understand from a traditional spiritual perspective is that a reward for correct behavior is not a reward in the usual sense. If we act from a self-centered perspective, we gain nothing but a heightened sense of self-righteousness, but if we act without any ideas and expectations, then natural grace will unfold for us.

Emperor Wu had changed his beliefs but not his state of mind. He may have been sincere, but he was also proud, self-righteous, and attached to his ideas. He had converted to a new belief system, but he had not transcended his selfhood—his sense of being a separate entity. Bodhidharma, of course, perceived his lack of understanding as soon as he began to speak.

True spirituality, whether attained through the vehicle of an organized religion, such as Buddhism or Christianity, or whether attained outside of such vehicles, is about the task of freeing the mind from its attachment to ideas, images and symbols so that it can perceive its unity with the Absolute. Many of Christ’s teachings emphasize this difference of mind operation. The Good Samaritan, for example, was one-with the condition of the injured man he found rather than separated from him by various ideas. By contrast, the Pharisees, priests and lawyers were isolated from both God and man by their thinking habits.

To intuitively grasp the difference between a self-centered state of mind and a unified state of mind, we can ask ourselves which is deeper, the state of mind which tries not to think evil thoughts, or the state of mind in which evil thoughts simply do not occur? Which is more important, the state of mind which sees people in terms of categories, or the state of mind which simply sees? Which is more spiritual, the state of mind which is condemnatory and judgmental, or the state of mind which is merciful and forgiving? Which is more actualized, the state of mind that worries about the literal interpretation of scriptures, or the state of mind which is united with the underlying spirit of the scriptures?

If we do a good deed and feel good about it, then we are still trying to take credit for our actions and we haven’t attained the essence of giving. If we raise money for our Zen Center, give to the poor, donate time to our favorite charity and think, “I’m doing this because I’m a Buddhist,” or “I’m doing this because it makes me feel good,” then we’ll be making the same mistake Emperor Wu made. The real issue of spiritual importance is how to attain a state of mind that acts without any self-reflection.

If we recognize that our mind is dominated by concepts, constructs and thoughts, then we can change it, but we cannot change it by studying scripture, following rules, or having beliefs. We can only change the state of our mind by learning to use it in a different way by practicing internal silence and awareness until the habit of reflective self-centered thought is broken. We can change it by practicing looking and listening without comment or opinion. We can change it by doing what we do with total concentration and one hundred percent effort.

The path about which Buddha taught is not about living according to a particular set of ideas, and it is not about such trivial issues as styles of worship, rituals, or religious rules. It is about changing the operation of our mind so that we can leave selfhood behind, discover the Infinite, and become unified with It. This is the transcendent reality to which Bodhidharma referred when he said, “In vast emptiness, no holiness!”

The Five Levels of Mind

The five classifications of mind as set forth by Dongshan Liangjie (807-869) one of the root teachers attributed with the founding of the Caodong House of Chan (Soto school in Japanese Zen). The study uses as its base the relative bifurcation of opposites know in the common consciousness of the delude masses. The opposites are: the absolute / the relative; the fundamental / the phenomenal; form / emtiness; one / many; etc. Below I have mapped these five classifications on the Compass neumonic that Zen Master Seung Sahn would often use.

Obama Hindi Song From India

Times of India

I don't know how many of you read "The Times of India" so I am posting this from the newspaper as it appeared today. Buddhism has been going through a resurgance in India in the last 20 years and I have been reading many articles on Zen in their popular news lately.

Meditate your pain away

TORONTO: You can meditate your pain away, says a new Canadian study.
Zen meditation can help people regain mental, physical and emotional balance, and reduce pain, says the study by Montreal University researchers.
It says those who practise Zen meditation exhibit lower pain sensitivity (during and after meditation) compared to non-meditators.
"While previous studies have shown that teaching chronic pain patients to meditate is beneficial, very few studies have looked at pain processing in healthy, highly trained meditators," a university statement quoted study co-author Joshua Grant as saying.
"This study was a first step in determining how or why meditation might influence pain perception," added Grant who co-authored the study with university professor Pierre Rainville.
As part of their study, the researchers selected 13 people who had practised Zen meditation for at least 1,000 hours and 13 non-meditators to undergo a pain test.
"The administered pain test was simple: a thermal heat source, a computer controlled heating plate, was pressed against the calves of subjects intermittently at varying temperatures," the university statement said.
"Heat levels began at 43 degrees Celsius and went to a maximum of 53 degrees Celsius depending on each participant's sensitivity. While quite a few of the meditators tolerated the maximum temperature, all control subjects were well below 53 degrees Celsius."
When the researchers contrasted the reaction of the two groups, they found a marked difference.
Zen meditators exhibited much lower pain sensitivity even without meditating, compared to non-meditators, the statement said.
During meditation, Zen meditators even further reduced their pain through slower breathing as their breath rate dropped to 12 per minute versus 15 breaths for non-meditators.
"Slower breathing certainly coincided with reduced pain and may influence pain by keeping the body in a relaxed state," said Grant.
"While previous studies have found that the emotional aspects of pain are influenced by meditation, we found that the sensation itself, as well as the emotional response, is different in meditators," he added.
Overall, the study found that Zen meditators experienced an 18 percent reduction in pain intensity. The study has been published in the January edition of Psychosomatic Medicine.

Ch'an Master Sheng-yen

Dìzàng Púsà, Dìzàng Púsà, Dìzàng Púsà.......
the setting of a great sun--
another passing of wisdom
from one generation
to the next.
his light continues
to shine brightly
in the eyes of his students.
knowing all he did for
bringing the Dharma West,
I bow towards Taiwan
one thousand and eighty times.

TAIPEI (AFP) — Venerable Master Sheng-yen, one of the most respected Buddhist monks in Taiwan, died Tuesday aged 80, his temple said.

Sheng-yen, who had kidney disease, died at around 4:00 pm (0800 GMT) at the Dharma Drum Mountain Buddhist complex in northern Taipei county, the temple said.

President Ma Ying-jeou said in a statement he was "saddened and shocked upon hearing the news" about the death of Sheng-yen, who the president said is "good at the use of language to touch people".

"The concept of spiritual conservation he advocated is not only religion but philosophy and attitude of living," Ma said, referring to the monk's relentless efforts to press for peace and a simple way of living.

In 1998 Sheng-yen was named by the popular CommonWealth Magazine among 50 people who have had the greatest influence on Taiwan over the past 400 years.

As a Buddhist Zen school master, he taught a number of celebrities, including Chinese martial arts actor Jet Li as well as Lin Hwai-min, founder and artistic director of Taiwan's Cloud Gate Dance Theatre.

The master was born in China's eastern Jiangsu province and became a Buddhist monk at the age of 14. He joined the Kuomtiang army in 1949 and fled to Taiwan with the Kuomintang troops after they were defeated by the Chinese communist forces at the end of a civil war.

He became a monk again in 1959 and trained in solitary retreat for six years in southern Taiwan. He completed a master's degree in 1971 and doctorate in Buddhist literature in Japan in 1975.

He became Abbot of Nung Chan Monastery in suburban Taipei in 1979 and in 1989 founded the International Cultural and Educational Foundation of Dharma Drum Mountain.