Renunciation

Letting go may be seen as either a negative or a positive. On the one hand, it could be a sign of weakness; of just giving up when tenacity or perseverance is required. Failure to achieve is often seen in this way. On the other hand, letting go may be exactly what is needed. It is impossible to grasp one thing when we are full of another. The difference between these can be understood against the background of time—a function of memory.

Our experience of time results from memory. It is established that people with damaged left-brain capacities have no memory and lose a sense of time. The reason for this loss is that memory occurs in our left hemisphere and without an ability to compare the present moment to the past, time goes away. If there is no past, projection into the future likewise goes away. It is impossible to learn from experience when there is no time.

In Zen, we are taught to live in the moment by detaching from the baggage of the past and to let go of the illusion of the future. When our memories are healthy (not damaged) this is a valuable way of living. When we are full of either the illusion of the future or the baggage of a dead past it is very difficult to be present. This concentration on the present is a primary focal point of zazen. But the principle has a much broader application beyond sitting.

To a significant degree, we have learned to undermine our own capacities and potential with limiting stories and ideas we tell our self. “I’m not good enough”; “She is better than me”; “I am flawed and thus unworthy”...All these and more are examples of self-imposed limitations which undermine functioning. Where did these stories come from? In a substantial way, they come from our memories. 

We learn through experience which we then recall when similar occasions arise and then we compare our memories to unfolding conditions and take the next step and project. What this process does not consider is changing circumstances. The conditions which may have existed no longer exist.

Pema Chödrön said that “...renunciation is the same thing as opening to the teachings of the present moment.” Every moment is unique. Every moment is a manifestation of circumstances that have never existed before. By letting go, we are more able to meet present teachings with openness and clarity—Impossible when we remain lodged in the past and future.

Names and Faces

"Happy Face/Sad Face"

What’s in a name? We love and hate names. We cherish some names that bring us pleasure and correspond with our thoughts about how things should be. We hate other names: the ones that bring us pain and disrupt our sense of order. 

One of the most famous Zen koans concerns names: “Who were you before your parents named you?” It’s a good koan since it forces us to release ourselves from the unimportant and move toward what is important.

In truth, names are just handles—pointers to what is real. If we use the name “God,” a certain image is evoked along with a lot of residual baggage. If we use the name “Buddha-Nature,” a very different image is evoked with different baggage. Since Buddha-Nature has no baggage, the question is, “who does?” Some of us were given dharma names when we received precepts. We had a name before and a different name afterward. Sometimes when a woman has married, her name changes (less and less nowadays). Our names can change, but our fundamental nature remains the same. Sometimes in Zen terms, that original nature is called “Original Face.”

Bodhidharma put it in a slightly different way. He said, “Despite dwelling in a material body of four elements, your nature is basically pure. It can’t be corrupted. Your real body is basically pure. Once you recognize your moving, miraculously aware nature, yours is the mind of all Buddhas. If you don’t see your own miraculous aware nature, you’ll never find a Buddha even if you break your body into atoms.”

Names are just waves on the ocean of consciousness or like the moon reflected on surface ripples. They are fleeting handles pointing to the deep.