The real deal.

Over the years that I’ve been poking here and there, examining a host of religious and spiritual paths, I’ve noticed that from the perspective of each and every discipline, the adherents nearly without exception claimed that their chosen discipline alone was the truth at the exclusion of others.

And another unavoidable observation was (and is) that each adherent could quote chapter and verse from their holy texts to support their claims but revealed their ignorance by claiming to likewise know about other disciplines. Apparently, they differed with Mark Twain when he said, “The easy confidence with which I know another man’s religion is folly, teaches me to suspect my own.”

These observations cast doubt over the entire lot and motivated me to dig deeper into various disciplines to avoid the same error. I may be a fool, but at least I try to keep it to myself. I agree with Mark Twain, who also said, “It is better to keep your mouth closed and let people think you are a fool than to open it and remove all doubt.”

I would be the first to admit that I don’t know in depth about all spiritual and/or religious paths, but I do know about mystical paths (particularly Zen and Gnostic Christianity) as well as the orthodox version of Christianity. I can make that statement, without apology, since I have a formal degree in Theology from one of the finest seminaries in the world and have been practicing, as well as studying, Zen for more than 40 years at this late stage in my life.

I must confess that I get a bit testy when someone, after spending at most a few minutes with Google, claims to know what has taken me many years to understand. And what annoys me even more is when a pastor, rabbi, guru, or other religious figures (who should know better) claims knowledge of matters they know nothing about yet makes unfounded claims and leads their “flock” into ignorance, either intentionally or not.

Now let me address what I said I would do some time ago: differentiate Zen from religions (particularly Buddhism) and I must start with an acceptable definition of religion. The broadly accepted definition is: “A communal structure for enabling coherent beliefs focusing on a system of thought which defines the supernatural, the sacred, the divine or of the highest truth.” 

And the key part of that definition that is pertinent to my discussion here is, …a system of thought… While it may seem peculiar to the average person, Zen is the antithesis of …a system of thought… because Zen, by design, is transcendent to thinking, and plunges to the foundation of all thought: the human mind. 

And in that sense it is pointless to have an argument with anyone about this, rooted in thinking. That’s point # 1. Point # 2 is that Zen, as a spiritual discipline, predates The Buddha (responsible for establishing Buddhism's religion ) by many thousands of years. The best estimate, based on solid academic study, is that the earliest record of dhyāna (the Sanskrit name for Zen) is found around 7,000 years ago, whereas the Buddha lived approximately 2,500 years ago. The Buddha employed dhyāna to realize his own enlightenment, and dhyāna remains one of the steps in his Eight Fold Path designed to attain awakening. Thus, pin Zen to Buddhism's tree is very much akin to saying that prayer is exclusive to Christianity and is a branch of that religion's tree.

While it is stimulating and somewhat educational to engage in discussions regarding various spiritual and/or religious paths, the fact is we have no choice except to tell each other lies or partial truths. Words alone are just that: lies or partial truths concerning ineffable matters. That point has been a tenant of Zen virtually since the beginning. Not only is this true of Zen, but it is also true of all religious and spiritual paths. 

Lao Tzu was quite right: “The Way cannot be told. The Name cannot be named. The nameless is the Way of Heaven and Earth. The named is Matrix of the Myriad Creatures. Eliminate desire to find the Way. Embrace desire to know the Creature. The two are identical, but differ in name as they arise. Identical they are called mysterious, mystery on mystery: the gate of many secrets.” 

In the end, none of us has any other choice except to employ illusion to point us to a place beyond illusion. I leave this post with two quotes, one from Mark Twain and the other from Plato. First Twain: “Never argue with stupid people, they will drag you down to their level and then beat you with experience.” And then Plato: “Those who are able to see beyond the shadows of their culture will never be understood, let alone believed, by the masses.”  

When I make statements, I know that I am telling partial truths, and I am stupid to argue. It makes both of us more stupid. That’s the real deal and should make us all a bit more humble and less sure that our truth alone is the only one.

Coming and going.

“The Master arrives without leaving, sees the light without looking, achieves without doing a thing.”—Lao Tzu: TaoTe Ching

The quote above has special significance to anyone who has unveiled their true nature. And I use the term “unveil” instead of achieving with intent. Indeed our true nature, for all practical purposes, is buried deep within and must be uncovered. It never comes and never leaves. 

Until that moment our sense of self is anything but permanent. It comes and it goes, riding the waves of good times and bad, dangling on a string of judgments. The importance of the principle is of such significance that it represents a pillar among various Buddhist sects in metaphorical terms of guests and hosts. If you Google “Zen, guest and host” you’ll end up with more than 780,000 hits all of which examine the matter from every conceivable direction.

The essence, however, is very simple even though the means of “achieving without doing” can boggle the mind with infinite permutations. In essence “The Master” is your very own mind; the one that sees without looking. The impediment to unveiling this master is a mind that is seen, not the mind that sees. The Buddha taught that our true mind can’t be seen, it can only be experienced through samādhi the awakening of our never-leaving body of truth. While difficult to explain, when awakening occurs there is no turning back. Only then we know what before was only a figment of our imaginations.

When we think of truth we imagine matters in rational terms; the product of our mind that is seen. While this distinction may appear esoteric it is central to genuine awakening—Hard to ascertain but incredibly powerful when experienced. The difference between the two was laid out by Nāgārjuna in his doctrine of two truths:

“The Buddha’s teaching of the Dharma is based on two truths: a truth of worldly convention and ultimate truth. Those who do not understand the distinction drawn between these two truths do not understand the Buddha’s profound truth. Without a foundation in the conventional truth, the significance of the ultimate cannot be taught. Without understanding the significance of the ultimate, liberation is not achieved.”

Nāgārjuna taught that “true things” exist fundamentally and can be perceived as such by the senses, while “false things” do not exist as they are perceived. The difference? Truth conceived conventionally keeps ultimate truth concealed. Things appear to our logical mind to contain an independent, self-nature, that is flawed by bias and preconceived ideas, but in his Fundamental Verses on the Middle Way (The Mūlamadhyamakakārikā), Nāgārjuna provided a logical defense that all things are empty of such a nature but are instead interdependently related. Even emptiness itself has no inherent, independent self-nature. 

Consequently, what we imagine is a fabrication. While the rational mind of relative truth is necessary to lead us to ultimate truth, so long as we do not let go and see clearly, we will forever be in bondage. It is the experience of awakening to our true nature (not the appearance) that sets us free to enjoy the fruits of the master that never leaves.

What the heck is Zen?

Zen?

Tolerance and empathy are two admirable qualities, ignorance is a vast and endemic characteristic of the human condition. It is difficult to remain empathetic and tolerant with people who live in states of denial and ignorance, persuaded they know intimately what they clearly don’t, yet bulwark themselves against becoming educated. 

It’s a test of patience and compassion to relate to such people. Still, it’s probably unrealistic to expect the uneducated and ignorant to suddenly overcome these failings without having an open mind, in all fairness. After all (as pointed out in a recent post), “…people are far less concerned with truth than they were with finding evidence to support their beliefs, true or not.”

Having studied and practiced Zen for more than forty years now, plus having a formal education from one of the foremost theological seminaries in the world, I imagine I know (perhaps mistakenly) what Zen is and is not. 

Recently I decided to pursue a new educational process entailing social media to broaden the reach of Dharma Space. It’s tough sailing for an old dog to learn new tricks, and I’m still in the process. One of the associated tangents of this new quest took me into Reddit: a social networking site that prides itself as “the front page of the internet” yet culls out posting with thought police guarding the front door.

The obvious glitch here is that the Internet (if nothing else) is supposed to be an open medium that promotes communications across the globe, thus stimulating the freedom to distribute and modify creative works in content by using the Internet as the people's voice. Freedom of global communications is not consistent with thought police who know nothing about Zen but nevertheless barred Dharma Space entrance into their club, claiming as justification that Zen is a religion.

The relevant question is thus: Is Zen a religion? So we must return to basics with a definition of religion, which is, “A communal structure for enabling coherent beliefs focusing on a system of thought which defines the supernatural, the sacred, the divine or of the highest truth.” 

Since Zen’s father (e.g., Bodhidharma) defined Zen as “not thinking,” there is no fit between these two definitions. Many remain ignorant of this misfit but cling to their dogma nevertheless. One of the confusing points is the ordinary way of labeling Zen as “Zen Buddhism.” Since Buddhism is a religion, the supposition is that Zen is a branch of Buddhism’s religious tree. Protestants are a branch of the religious tree of Christianity. 

So what’s the truth of the matter? Now we come to the language problem (as always). The word Zen is a Japanese word. Before Zen moved to Japan, there was China, where it was first known as Chán, which was derived from the Sanskrit word dhyāna (translated as “absorption” or “meditative state.”) The Pāli word was/is Jhāna, the Vietnamese word is Thiền, and Seon in Korean.

Zen encourages everyone to look within for happiness and attainment of the enlightenment of Buddha-Nature. Many renowned and well respected Zen masters did not know how to read or write, yet they gained and taught enlightenment effortlessly. Zen teaches, or rather prods, the mind to look beyond the realm of perception and comprehend universal truth, beginning with the question, “who am I?” And it has two goals: to achieve enlightenment and become a Bodhisattva, or compassionate being, one in mind and spirit so you can become one with the Universe. A Bodhisattva has only this one purpose: To teach universal unity.

The practice of Zen/dhyāna was established as one of the steps on the Eight-Fold Path of the Buddha, but here is the kicker: the term dhyāna is found in recorded history around 7,000 years ago, whereas the Buddha lived approximately 2,500 years ago. I already wrote about this in a post, “The real deal” so, I realize that I’m repeating myself. However, some review is good. 

The Eight-Fold Path’s last three steps are grouped together (package deal) to achieve Samadhi: a spiritual state of consciousness. The last three are Right effort, Right mindfulness (the practice that is now very popular and goes by the handle of MBSR—Mindfulness-Based Stress Reduction), and Right concentration (dhyāna), used to suppress the five hindrances to enter into Samadhi. Right concentration (from a Vietnamese perspective) is considered as the fourth jhāna: a stage of “pure equanimity and mindfulness” (upekkhāsatipārisuddhi), without any pleasure or pain, happiness or sadness, and appears in the Mahāparinibbāṇa Sutta. This Sutta has been dated no later than 350-320 BCE, which would allow for a “true historical memory” of the events approximately 60 years before the short chronology for the Buddha’s lifetime (understood more like hagiography than as an exact historical record of events).

Zen is an instrument employed (the same one used by The Buddha) for developing wisdom by cultivating insight to examine the true nature of phenomena with direct cognition. This leads to cutting off delusions, realizing the Dharma, and, finally, self-awakening. The five hindrances/obstacles are (1) Sensory desire, (2) all kinds of thoughts related to wanting to reject feelings of hostility, resentment, hatred, and bitterness, (3) heaviness of body and dullness of mind which drag one down into disabling inertia and thick depression, (4) worry (the inability to calm the mind) and (5) a lack of conviction or trust whereby self-awakening is possible.

I am aware that I am repeating myself and probably boring those who already know this, but ignorance reigns supreme. Besides, I enjoy the improbable task of trying to break through close-mindedness. According to the moderators at Reddit, “Nobody cares.” I would like to believe that humanity still does care about a transformation that could reshape our world into something less than the Hell it’s growing into without this awareness.

Who stands before me?

One of the most profound stories concerning Bodhidharma, the figure who is credited as the originator of Zen, occurred in China during the 6th century CE during a conversation with Emperor Wu. The Emperor had invested himself in many ways to promote Buddhism and thus felt deserving of special merit. He said to Bodhidharma, “I have built many temples, copied innumerable Sutras, and ordained many monks since becoming Emperor. Therefore, I ask you what is my merit?” 

At the level of vast emptiness, there is nothing special, or the opposite: Specialness. In response, Bodhidharma replied: “None whatsoever!” Emperor Wu then responded with, “What then is the most important principle of Buddhism?” Bodhidharma answered: “Vast emptiness. Nothing sacred.” Shocked by his answer, the Emperor then said, “Who is this that stands before me?” Bodhidharma: answered, “I don’t know.”

Without a doubt, to students new to the practice of Zen, this story must seem bizarre. How on earth could such apparent ignorance, expressed by the founder of Zen, be considered profound? To sweep away the cloud that covers over the significance, we must explore a common dimension of human nature: The desire to be somebody special, and the corresponding quest to be involved in doing something we all consider important that moves us toward that goal of specialness. 

So long as we are not doing whatever it may be we consider as important, the more guilt we feel. For many, we begin in childhood with feelings of inadequacy. Some people are so consumed with “doing” they become obsessive-compulsive, doing the same thing over and over to experience some relief. The rest of us, at the very least, feel uncomfortable thinking that we are wasting valuable time by not doing something.

Two points: Who is consumed with this desire? And what’s the difference between “being” and “doing?” Let me address the second point first: The issue of beingness which concerned Bodhidharma’s unknowing. He seemed to be saying he didn’t know himself, and if anything is central to Zen it is the unveiling of our true nature. You really can’t understand this issue without the other part of his answer: “Vast emptiness. Nothing sacred.”

Instead, there is nothing whatsoever, yet within emptiness, is completion. That state of mind is the base upon which everything we do is based. Without “beingness” it is impossible for “doing-ness” to exist, thus the catchphrase, “Be here now.” We have been so conditioned to think that just being without the expression of acting in some way toward our goal, is to be considered as a useless bum. 

There is special significance in being present—fully present in the moment, but the question is “who is being present?” The knee-jerk (and unexamined answer) is, “Me.” But this me can be expressed, both in many definable terms (e.g., The ego, which is mere clothing upon a mannequin, changing moment by moment, depending on changing circumstances), or the indefinable true person that we are, neither special nor not.

So then we come to the first point of the “Who,” to which Bodhidharma answered, “I don’t know.” Why does that make sense, whether we know it or not? It makes sense simply because emptiness—the realm of completion and the lack, is the same realm lacking definition. Nobody, not even a Buddha can define what is essentially indefinable except to note the obvious: doing and being are essential partners. 

If this is the case, how are we to know, not only ourselves but also other people? The Buddha himself pointed to the answer with his statement in the Mahāyāna Mahāparinirvāṇa Sūtra when he said, “Seeing the actions of body and mouth, we say that we see the mind. The mind is not seen, but this is not false. This is seeing by outer signs.” In other words, we not only know who we are, but we also know who others are, not just by what is said but by how actions speak louder than words alone. Our words and actions together define the person that stands before us all.

What's Zen?

We live in a time awash in technology and assume that it is based on electronics. But the principle of technology is much broader. Fundamentally technology means an application of knowledge, especially in a particular area that provides a means of accomplishing a task. Anything from a simple hammer to charting the cosmos properly belongs to the realm of technology.

The common coin understanding of Zen is wrong. Ordinarily, Zen is considered a branch on the tree of Buddhism but few people realize that Zen came first, a long time before there was such a thing as Buddhism's religion. The Buddha used the mental technology of Zen to experience his enlightenment. While Zen isn’t electronic, it is similar since our brain works by exchanging electrical transmissions, and Zen is the most thoroughgoing technology for fathoming the human mind ever conceived.

The human brain is the most sophisticated computer ever and can calculate at speeds a billion times faster than any computer yet built. Furthermore, it is “dual-core,” computing in parallel mode with completely different methods. One side works like a serial processor (our left hemisphere), and the other works as a parallel processor (or right hemisphere). The left creates code, and the right reads the code. The left is very good at analyzing, dissecting, and abstracting (but doesn’t understand) while the right interprets (but doesn’t read) and says what it all means.

Lao Tzu expressed this division of function like this: He who knows, does not speak. He who speaks, does not know.

Zen is the mental technology of using this equipment to understand itself. The true mind watches the movement and arising of the code to grasp how the “machine” works. Everything perceived and processed is watched. There is a conditional and object-oriented aspect, and there is an unconditional objectless aspect. Both sides of our brain have no exclusive and independent status. Only when they function together are they of much use. 

Our subjective nature is unseen and without form. Our objective nature has form and is seen. Our brain could be considered hardware and our mind software. Software instructs the hardware on how to operate. Together these two are mirror opposites and rely upon the other side. In Buddhist terminology, this relationship is called “dependent origination,” which means they only exist together. The same is true for anything. Up and down are mirror opposites, and neither can exist separately. Nothing can. Everything can only exist in that way.

The two sides of our brain are mirror partners. Our whole brain is the mirror partner of our mind. Our mind is the mirror partner of no-mind. Every nuance becomes progressively more concentrated and potent. The entire universe in infinite configuration and form is essentially empty. If you delve into quantum physics, you arrive at nothing. If you go to the farthest reaches of space, you arrive at nothing. Before the Big-Bang, there was nothing. Now there is everything. Everything is the same thing as nothing. And this amazing awareness comes about by simply watching the coming and going of the manifestations of our mind. That’s Zen.

Pie in the Mouth

In probing the layers of human physiology and psychology, Paul Broks, neuropsychologist/philosopher, leads us through a haunting journey in his book Into the Silent Land. 

 It is hard not to be stunned by reading his dissecting view of what it means to be human. We take so many things for granted. That, which is basically inanimate “meat,” can and routinely does animate with consciousness, cognition, imagination, feelings and every other aspect of our condition seems to float by as a given. This fundamental mystery is so ingrained into our being that it goes unnoticed, but not by Broks.

He asks alarming and provocative questions such as “Am I out there or in here?” when he portrays an imaginary man with a transparent skull, watching in a mirror his own brain functions. He notices, for us all, that the world exists inside the tissue residing between our ears. And when the tissue is carefully examined, no world, no mind, no ego/self, no soul, no perceptual capacities, nor consciousness—nothing but inanimate meat is found. Unable to locate, what we all take for granted, he suggests that we are neither “in here” nor “out there,” maybe somewhere between the space between the in and the out, and maybe nowhere at all.

Yet here I am writing these words, and there you are reading them, and so it has always been. We are nowhere and we are everywhere. Not to be found yet fully here. We are like holograms; mind manifestations, which appear or vanish when we are plugged in or out. The inescapable conclusion that arises from such a probe is that we are spirit. No other sensible conclusion is possible. This great mystery has puzzled and confounded humans since the dawn of time, thousands of years before there was the science of neurophysiology or neuropsycholgy. How is it possible that we function as we do, out of what is basically meat? The answer remains hidden beneath veils of mystery.

Anyone familiar with the Heart Sutra can’t help but observe the coincidence between Broks probe and the message contained in the sutra—that there is both delusion and non-delusion. There are human aspects rooted in illusion (which have no substantial reality) and there is the realm of all-pervasive, ever-present perfect peace which is, itself formless and void but nevertheless the well-spring of our existence. There is nothing to be found nor attained in the meat. And because of this “...The Bodhisattva relying on Prajnaparamita has no obstruction in his mind.” Prajna (wisdom)+ Paramita (perfection) means perfect wisdom. Such enlightenment comes with the acceptance of this great mystery, that there is nothing to be found yet we exist as manifestations of what we call God. That is the great mystery, not the animated meat!

And what is of equal fascination is how the Western mind grapples with this mystery versus how the Eastern mind does. Whereas the Eastern mind accepts the mystery as a given, the Western mind wants to probe beyond and explain the mystery—to understand it. To western thinking it is extraordinarily difficult to set the matter to rest, to drop it and just let it be. To Zen, a “nose” is not a nose (the convention of N_O_S_E) but rather the tweak of the object that lies between the eyes. Zen wishes us to wake up and feel the tweak—to move beyond all conventions, abstractions and models—and savor life as it is rather than to describe or understand it. 

“If one reaches the point where understanding fails, this is not such a tragedy: it is simply a reminder to stop thinking and start looking. Perhaps there is nothing to figure out after all: perhaps we only need to wake up.” (Zen and the Birds of Appetite)

To Zen, even conventions such as “The Void,” “God” and “Self” are not to be understood but are rather to be experienced. Such a thrust moves us beyond holographic understandings, beyond ideas and beliefs systems—conventions about life—into the realm of life itself. Zen is about pie in the mouth, savored on the tongue instead of a perfect description of the pie that exists only in the holograms of our mind.