A glass of Verduzzo

Here is an article I wrote in Czech last March. (As I was working on the translation I changed a few things, including the title, as in English I tend to think a little bit differently and sticking to the Czech original sounded strange. So it is edited and not a word-by-word translation. Plus I  would like to add a short introduction. 

This article was originally called Dharma Is Always Here. What do I mean by the term Dharma? Probably, when you started to study and practice Buddhism, one of the first things you came across, were the categories Buddha, Dharma and Sangha. I think most people know that “dharma” means Buddha’s teaching. But when you study Buddhism for some time, you may find out that dharma also means reality or law or similar things. So when I use the word dharma, I mean Buddha’s teaching in its essence. Not the volume of his sayings or rules or statements, but the very thing, the essential thing he wanted to pass to others, the flower he turned in his fingers. So by dharma I mean the essence of Buddha’s teaching, which is often called simply dharma.

Another thing I would like to say before we look at the article itself is that we have a dilemma in Buddhism. Should Buddhism be explained simply and clearly so everyone can quickly understand what Buddha taught or should it be explained in a lot of strange, sometimes poetic, sometimes mystical images, metaphors, should it be confusing and challenging, should it try to shatter our intellect so in the end we have no clue what Buddhism is? It seems a simple, clear explanation would be best. But why did so many Buddhist teachers in the past use strange images, metaphors, complicated essays, contradictions and sometimes complete nonsense to express the truth Buddha found? I think we cannot naively hope that Buddhist teaching can be summed up in a few simple statements. Even if we sum it up in something like Four Noble Truths, what can we do with such a summary? Will it help us to realise what Buddha realised? I don’t think so. We sometimes need a simple summary. What is Zen? Zen is ordinary life. Simple and clear. But a second after you happily accept this statement, your intellectual mind might come up with a question. What is ordinary life? Is this mess in the kitchen or on the floor my ordinary life? Are my arguments with my wife and children ordinary life? Is trying to make a bit more money ordinary life? Some will say, yes, of course, all these things are real, so I am living a Buddhist life. Great. I don’t think it is as simple as that. In Zen we need to get over our limited understanding of the world and get over our limited self. To understand “my life is difficult” or “my life is amazing” is not enough. I have to shatter such ideas myself every day, over and over again.  Instead of such simplistic understanding of oneself and one’s life, Buddha offered dharma… the truth itself. The Buddhist truth. Now it is not easy to understand what he meant by the truth, let alone practice this truth in our lives. You can disagree. But what I think or what you think is not the point…

Here is the (edited) article I wrote in March:  

There are two kinds of spirituality. One is one that helps us personally. We don't care if the neighbour suffers, especially if we are happy. Of course, doing something for ourselves is not always selfish, on the contrary, but we often do these things primarily to help ourselves. We go to meditation classes, yoga, taichi and similar things to achieve peace and harmony. This kind of individualistic practice is not what Buddha meant. Sorry.

Then there is spirituality, where we must give up trying to achieve something personal, although that does not mean we neglect our essential needs. We eat, sleep, wash, try to maintain our health. This is, of course, very important in a time of pandemic, because our health equals the health of others and vice versa. But dharma that Buddha taught is not here so that we become  happy, harmonious, and enlightened as individuals. That’s why Kodo Sawaki often attacks people who are interested in satori. Personal satori or enlightenment is useless, it is actually something that kills true dharma, it has nothing to do with Buddha’s teaching. You can have a personal breakthrough experience, but if it is useful at all, you will see it is useless unless you clearly see it is not yours or for you, it belongs to the universe and has to be returned to the universe immediately. Because dharma is independent on such personal achievements, dharma is where your personal profit really does not exist at all. So what does Dharma mean to us when it is nothing that a person could profit from? What is it and why should we practice and realize dharma in our lives?

The pandemic shows us that the world of people with their games, desires, opinions, successes and failures is something dharma doesn’t care about. Some people get infected, some don't, some die, some die young, some old. It is something dharma has no opinion of. Dharma is not a god who wants to give us signals or directions. Dharma is perfectly cynical when compared to God. Why should we study and practice something that is not interested in our well-being? Because dharma is the only thing that is left here when we throw away all people's opinions and values. You could lose interest in dharma, because the world of people is full of  beautiful things, values, nobility, wisdom, art, education, problem solving, consolation and pleasure. Should we give up such a fascinating world? There is an interesting paradox. The most wonderful things people created and experience are supported by dharma. But also the worst, the most horrible things are supported by dharma. Without dharma, you get illusions, ideas. In dharma, you get what there is without your opinions. When you let go of illusions and ideas, the beauty is still there, the pain is still there.  But it is free of human mind. It is not your beauty or her beauty, it is not your pain or their pain, it is just pain.  So when we let go of the human aspect of reality, we have genuine reality, intact, this is a kind of freedom you can only experience when you are willing  to let go of everything that comes up in your mind. Then everything is pure dharma.   

The Buddha attained the awakening to this dharma where there is no longer a human evaluation of things, no evaluation of anything, there is no more me versus you, truth versus lie, good versus evil. At this point, there is nothing to say -  otherwise you add horns to a rabbit. Although there is nothing to say about dharma, Buddha decided to teach this dharma and he used a lot of words. He knew the words would never express dharma perfectly, but he needed a method to pass the truth he found. Later turning a flower in his fingers he used an action and it expressed dharma perfectly. So sometimes talking, sometimes acting he taught something we call dharma. Many people mistakenly believe Buddha was enlightened. When Buddha arrived at the truth he could see the truth is just here and now and everyone is enlightened. Now we know this is not so easy to grasp but we need to grasp this fact and express this fact in our everyday lives. We need to turn flowers and lift fingers without imitating anyone or feeling “enlightened”.

When you tell a child that bitter medicine is sweet, you try to help them to swallow the pill - it's for the good of the child. So when the Buddha began to teach others, he could not behave like some Chinese teachers and shout or wave a stick in the air. He was in India. Buddha started very positively. And throughout his work, the Buddha taught very positively. That was his style. When he saw that his disciples were too spiritual, he poured cold water on them (figuratively speaking). When they seemed to have an opinion on the dharma, he refuted it. And so all Buddhist teachers try to give directions to the truth, sometimes talking, sometimes acting, sometimes being quiet practising zazen.

Of course, this does not mean that we will not have opinions within the human world. I have a lot of opinions. But in zazen I flush them down the toilet, I flush myself, I revive myself, I return to the dharma, that which is here without my opinion, and so I am born again and again, every day, hopefully many times a day, whenever my silly ideas don't possess me. When dharma takes over, the whole universe is without a mistake. In that universe, nothing needs to be improved.   But we must encourage people to try and deepen their understanding of themselves and the world, otherwise they will never understand why everything is already perfect. Our ability to get over ourselves and make a bold step into the truth here and now is the most important skill we have. Even if we cannot appreciate this ability yet, we can rely on the fact that essentially we don’t have to add anything to our body and mind in order to become true people. On the other hand, when we let our thinking eat away our awakened energy, the joy of buddhas is imprisoned behind a thick wall.     

Now let's put it into practice: Let's forget what I wrote and have a glass of Verduzzo. Or a glass of whatever you find in the kitchen. 

 

Where can we buy the Moon?

We know that Buddha, after attaining the truth, said that with him all beings and things attained the truth. In other words, he realized that the truth is universal and nobody can say that they, individually, possess the truth, or know the truth. Buddha discovered the truth which is right here and everywhere you go whenever you go. That's why it is so awkward to call this truth Buddhist or Buddha's or enlightenment, if this truth is really absolutely independent on people, or specific religions. We say Buddhism as if there was some kind of specific Buddhist truth that is different from Christian truth or sports truth or meteorological truth. But although the truth is clearly universal and independent on people's opinions and philosophies, we need a language, a Christian language, or Buddhist language or mathematical language to communicate what the truth is so we can maintain the heritage of authentic recognition of the truth, which is impossible without a suitable linguistic system.

Although the truth is universal and everyone's inherent experience, that doesn't mean that everyone can recognize this universal truth. So we definitely need the right tools to find the truth and maintain this experience. Buddhism has its suitable language and tools, Christianity has its suitable language and tools, science has its language and tools.  But languages and tools are only the link between us and the truth. If a religion is a tool, be it, but it can never, the tool, become the truth, as much as a knife cannot become meat and a spoon cannot become soup. If we are warned about religious intoxication, it is a warning not to eat knives and spoons. And we should definitely not replace our experience of the truth with intellectual discussions that only lead to intellectual conclusions. So which is more authentic - to define the truth or pass the spoons? To define mathematics or solve a mathematical problem?  When we speak about buddhas, we have to be careful as not to invent ideas that have nothing to do with our actual experience. Our experience of buddhas is incredibly valuable, but this experience can be easily corrupted with our intellectual discussions about it. That's why intellectual discussions are not encouraged during sesshins, whereas physical work is.

A few days ago I went to a talk given by a Theravada teacher. Someone in the audience mentioned "the truth". The teacher raised his eyebrows and said: "Did you say truth? Isn't that exactly the word that causes wars and bloodshed? Please, don't use that word!"  Of course, the teacher warned the audience that the term truth may be understood very differently by different groups of people and cause hatred and violence. But in our tradition, we are pretty bold and we hope that if we clearly explain that the truth is really nobody's possession and is absolutely universal, then there is no need to argue whose truth is better. Buddha's truth is really beyond mine and yours, ours and theirs, it is not only Buddha's truth, it is the truth we know already. That is the point Buddha needed to clarify. To clarify the difference between his question "What is the truth?" and his actual experience, which is really everybody's original experience. 

We should realize that we are civilized and spiritual beings. By spiritual I mean someone who has realized that there is more depth to life than money, sex and social status, so our spiritual experience means that we have already transcended the level of insects, birds and cows, so we should act accordingly. That means - do not ruin your spiritual experience by making it your private possession.  If your spiritual experience is authentic, then you can see it all around,  and in others, too. This sky, this sun, is it yours or is it ours? If it is ours, nobody can say that they possess the sun. The whole of  Japanese Zen poetry is about observing nature, or noticing one's sadness and loneliness, or one's joy because the water is fresh and the spring has come. There is no need for fame or profit if you are really intimate with nature.

Master Dogen's teaching about fame and profit is beautifully expressed in the very poems of wandering Zen monks. Although they had hardly any money, and nothing to boast, they indeed had much closer relationship with the moon and the stars than the wealthy and successful. Having forgotten their past spiritual experience, the wandering monks enjoyed playing with grass and frogs.

The Misfit

I don't understand people. When I was a kid, I used to sit in the corner, alone, not lonely, just sitting alone and observing something. Then I looked at the other kids in the room and didn't understand their games. I didn't fit. But I didn't care. I had my own games. I am 53 years old and I am still the same kid. I love being on my own. Observe things. I go cycling alone. I love to look at people, but keep them at bay. When I start talking to them, something always goes wrong, it is a mess.  I do love people, especially women. Because they make a bit more sense than men to me. But I am always happy when I can be alone again.

When you look at the first paragraph, you will find 14 "I"s. That's because I am so very egocentric. I don't think that is necessarily a bad thing. It is not being selfish. It is looking at the world around me from my own perspective. I love helping others. I am a teacher at high school and you cannot imagine how happy I feel when I can see the kids are enjoying the lesson and are learning something. But I am alone there. They are the bunch, I am the oddball.

When I was a kid I used to watch walls before going to sleep. If God exists, he must have decided to make me a wall watcher. I remember staring at walls for hours, when I was in hospitals, before going to sleep, I would find all kinds of strange shapes and patterns on the walls. So now sitting in front of a wall is so natural for me. But when you practice zazen you don't observe patterns or lines or anything. I don't, unless it is a very long retreat, but I don't go to such long retreats anymore. Anyway, sitting alone, even if you are among other practitioners, is extremely natural for me. I know sitting without moving in front of a wall must feel silly or useless for many people who try zazen for the first time, but for me it is just my second nature. I just sit and feel happy. Of course, I had all kinds of periods during my Buddhist life, looking for something, trying to keep something, trying to prove something, trying to hide something, all kinds of things, but in between it was just that simple zazen that I somehow practiced even as a kid and felt as balanced as it gets. Mike Luetchford says that zazen is practicing balance. To me this balance is the balance of not talking, rather observing, not reaching out, not waiting for something, just being here, in the middle of the universe. Maybe we are not in the middle of the universe, but basically we are. Everything in the universe is always in the middle of the universe. That's the balance, so you don't fall over, into a black hole or abyss or hell. You sit straight, not waiting, not hoping, not escaping, not falling over, not hiding, not seeking, just sitting in the middle of the universe, together with spiders, flies, rocks, stars, galaxies... this is how I felt when I was a little kid. So that's where my egocentric attitude came from. But these days I think practicing zazen, waking up, being a buddha, means we are responsible for the balanced situation in the universe, we are truly in the middle of it and the universe depends on our balance. And we depend on the balance of the universe. When we watch carefully, the universe is always balanced, but then it is our turn to become balanced. So in zazen the universe and I am balanced, together. So everything in the world is balanced at that moment. It is the primary point, the original situation before we were born, and it is also the purpose of practice, to return to that original situation.

You see, the way I explain zazen may be very complicated and philosophical, but after all it is practiced with this crooked body, with my crooked ribs, my feet that go to sleep, my sensitive tendons, my badly curved spine. I talked about the universe, but this body is the real expression of the universe, it comes from the deepest storehouse of the universe. It is as good as a spider's body and as sacred. So let's not let our human mind get in the way. Let's just sit down and see what happens. See where we come from and where we belong truly, before we think about it. I am not very empathetic, I don't understand others. But in Zen, luckily for me, you don't have to understand others, you just have to be truly yourself, whatever you see, you see, whatever you don't get, you don't get. Spiders are not ducks and ducks are not eagles. I am, essentially, the kid that doesn't fit. But I am sure we all fit into the universal symphony. We somehow fit. Everyone fits differently. Even if you feel you don't fit, you do fit. Just don't wrestle with the universe and you will fit naturally. As for society, that is impossible, you may get along with others wonderfully, but there are still people who will hate you. Societies are hopeless compared to the universe. The universe does not judge. So to sit down and stop talking is a way to go back to where we all belong, no matter if we are alive or dead. And if you make friends with the universal silence, you are never never alone. I remember clearly, when I was three or five, I was never alone. In the middle of the bedroom, watching mountains out of the window, I was in a very good company. Never alone.

                  

About the Teachings with Mike Luetchford

Some time ago I thought I could do an interview with my teacher Mike Luetchford about things I consider important for someone who is interested in Buddhist practice and study. Mike Luetchford often talked about or at least mentioned these topics in his talks I listened to for more than ten years and I should know his opinions by now, but as for me, I want to learn from experienced people repeatedly - what we knew yesterday may be something we need to learn again today - and the readers of this blog might just want to know my teacher's answers to these questions.

What does Buddhism offer that other philosophies or activities don't?

Increasingly, I feel that the term “Buddhism” with all its religious connotations is not always helpful. For more than 2000 years, the teachings have been protected from dilution and distortion in a vessel that has been called “Buddhism”. But increasingly, that vessel has started to limit what we understand from the teachings, which are about life itself, and not restricted to a religion or to within a particular group of people. Increasingly in today’s world, we are coming to understand what life is about, how the universe is and how it works. And this understanding is no longer restricted to within a limited group of adherents. So I would like to use the term “the teachings” to describe what it is that formed the original teachings and what teachers and students have studied and practiced.

These teachings that have been passed on from teacher to teacher are not exclusive. This means that they don’t teach something that no one else knows about or has experienced. The teachings point to the way things are, and help us to see reality as it is. They emphasise things that everyone has experienced but not noticed clearly. They teach us what is important in living. Although the teachings are ancient, modern science in all its forms is confirming those teachings.

What is the meaning of truth / attaining the truth in Buddhist philosophy and practice?

In English, the word “truth” suggests abstract knowledge about the way things are. In the teachings, the term “truth” is used to point to or label something that is neither abstract nor concrete, but real. Finding out what is real is what is meant by “attaining the truth.”

How important is it to have a Buddhist teacher if we want to study and practice Buddhism? What kind of relationship is it that a Buddhist teacher has with a student? What is beneficial and what is not?

If you want to study “Buddhism” then you need a “Buddhist” teacher. However, the “truth” belongs to everyone, Buddhist and non-Buddhist alike. Everything is teaching us the truth of life, the way things are. Unfortunately, human beings are very slow learners, and because we have highly developed intellects, we need intellectual explanations to explain and clarify the truth that we are being taught by everything around us at every moment. We need to find another human being who can communicate to us what life is about. If we can find a person or people who do that, we feel that we are receiving something important and valuable from them. So there is some kind of closeness between the person teaching, the teacher, and the person receiving, the student. The most important thing is that the communication between these two people is honest, without pretence and open to verification.

Why is it important to practice zazen every day?

The practice of zazen forms the centre of the teachings. When we sit in the balanced posture of zazen, we make ourselves balanced – both mentally and physically. Or more accurately, we allow the mental and physical aspects of who we are to integrate into the one whole being who is sitting. This balance between mental and physical is what is meant by the expression “the middle way”. And it can be explained in many different ways. Balance between body and mind, balance between love and hate, balance of the autonomic nervous system that regulates our bodily functions. The posture itself is balanced. When we are balanced, our thoughts and feelings settle, and we can access the wisdom that all living beings possess and which is called “prajna” in the teachings. Pra means before and jna means consideration. So pra-jna means before consideration, which suggests the condition in which we are not biased by over-thinking or over-feeling, but we act directly with our whole being. In the West, we have historically not valued acting before thinking. Our culture has taught us to think before we act so that our action will be right. We have given more importance to thinking than to acting directly. The teachings tell us to practice zazen every day to maintain this state in which we act directly out of the balanced state. In our daily lives, we lose our balance frequently, so to maintain balance we need to practice balance at regular intervals, like ringing a bell to keep the sound vibrating.

Does zazen have a goal?

Well, it sounds strange to say it, but the goal of zazen is to give up having a goal. To drop off all thoughts and images in our mind and to sit quietly without a goal. To achieve this goal-less goal, we practice every day.

Are Buddhist monasteries unnecessary in the West?

It must have been difficult for our ancestors to find the time and space to reflect on their lives and practice balance in times when survival itself required all their efforts and energy. In modern times, almost everyone has a certain amount of leisure time in which they can do what they want to do, separate from mere survival. With effort, almost everyone is able to find the time to practice balance and study. It is no longer necessary to live in a monastery separate from society to do this. But if some people are happier living apart from life in society to practice and study, then they can form monasteries for this purpose.

Is it important to study Buddha's original teachings?

It seems that the Buddha’s original teachings were oral, and a written record was not made until around 400 years after the Buddha’s death. In addition, the teachings were first written down in Pali, one of the dialects of ancient India related to Sanskrit. Studying the oldest records of the Buddha’s teachings, known collectively as the Pali Cannon, has been the work of scholars, with good translations into English only appearing within the last 50 years. If you like scholarship, then studying these original teachings can be a way to see how the teachings were communicated in ancient India. And books written by those scholars can tell the rest of us what those teachings looked like. But there is a difference between studying the original teachings, and putting the essence of those teachings into practice in our own lives.

Is it important to study and understand master Dogen's Shobogenzo?

To study and understand Dogen’s Shobogenzo is a lifetime’s work. He wrote in medieval Japanese and classical Chinese. If you want to devote your life to that study, then you can learn what he taught in its original form. Now there are at least seven translations into English and other major European languages, including French, German and Spanish. But what is important is to realise what it is that he taught, and this is different from studying his writings.

The teachings are not what is written. For this reason, the teachings have always been passed from person to person – teacher to student – down through the ages. We cannot learn these teachings only from books because they are about life itself, reality itself. Books can help us understand intellectually, they can point us towards the the truth of life, but without practicing and experiencing, we can never realise that truth in our own lives.

How important are everyday actions and how should we act?

Our everyday actions ARE our life. The story we tell ourselves about our life is just that – a story. Our real life is composed of everyday actions in time present. The fact that we don’t seem to experience our lives like that is because for much of the time we live in the world of our mind, in which there is a past, a present and a future. But in fact there is only the time of our present action. To act in a balanced and sincere way is all we can do. It is not easy to know whether our action in this moment is right, or will have good results, and in fact we can never know this. We practice balance every day so that we can act in this moment in a balanced way, and that is the best we can do. Rather than judging our actions or trying to work out what is best to do, this simple attitude frees us from mental suffering and gives us freedom to act.

How should we approach the numberless spiritual ways we come across in the globalized world? Can we benefit from wisdom ( if there is any) of people who teach these things?

There are many spiritual teachings in today’s worlds, and you can find many spiritual teachers on the Internet. Although their teachings may sound attractive, the criterion has to be – do they work in my life? Reality is not only spiritual. It is the union of the physical and the mental. So teachings that only address the spiritual side of reality are only partial.

What is your opinion of religion in general?

The word “religion” can be broken down into “re-“ which means “again” or “back” and the Latin verb “ligeo” which means “to bind or tie”. So one way of interpreting the word “religion” is “to bind ourselves back again”. Well, if we interpret that to mean “to tie ourselves back to reality” or “to ground ourselves back in reality”, then the teachings are a religion. But most religions are partial, because they are based only in the spiritual aspect of reality. So they are incomplete as a way of living.

What is your opinion of romantic love?

Romantic love is wonderful while it lasts. We feel as if we have found the missing part of ourselves in someone else, and we feel complete, whole, safe and happy. But it doesn’t last. We can enjoy it while we are in it, while we are in love, but sooner or later we will have to climb out again. We don't need to avoid romantic love, but we should notice that it is a wonderful but transient state of delusion.

Is it necessary to see the difference between dreams and reality clearly and is it possible?

The story which we take to be our life is like a dream. Reality is just this moment. So when we are living in our story, we are in a dream. Because we cannot experience the momentary nature of existence within our minds, much of the time we are living in a dream. We practice zazen to experience the simple momentary nature of reality, to come out of the dream. Although we are living in a dream, we are dreaming our dream in this very moment of the present. We can notice that reality is momentary but we live in a dream.

Is suffering necessary in our lives even if we practice and study the Way diligently?

It isn’t necessary to avoid suffering. If we practice balance, then we can see pain for what it is, and live with it. When we are suffering, it is usually because we don’t see the simple situation for what it is. When we see the simple nature of reality and accept how things are, our suffering stops.

What can the generation of new Buddhist teachers offer if they haven't studied Buddhism in China or Japan?

There will always be a new generation of teachers. Teachers have a duty to teach. They may be teaching others or they may be teaching themselves. It's the same thing. To teach something you need to know what it is. Reality doesn't exist only in China or Japan, so a teacher can teach about reality if they know what reality is, whether or not they have studied Buddhism in China or Japan. The only important thing is to know what reality is. And to know what reality is, we continue to practice sitting in reality for many years.

Is there only one kind of Buddhism?

No, there are many schools of Buddhism, and many variations. But there is only one reality. It doesn’t matter what kind of Buddhism it is, it only matters if it teaches reality.

How would you describe what you learned from your teacher master Gudo Nishijima?

To be flexible and not to be proud. To give the teachings freely.

You seem to love people regardless of their faith or practice. What is it that you love about people most?

Yes, without people, we wouldn’t be discussing anything. Without other people, I could not teach. So I love people regardless of their faith or practice. But that is a generalisation. When I meet a real person, I love them if they are simple and honest.

Thank you for your answers.

The Minimalist Zen of Kodo Sawaki

I have just read an interview with Kodo Sawaki about his life and practice. I always wanted to hear or read this interview but so far it has been only available in Japanese.  Of course, what he says in the interview is not very different from the quotes you can find in Homeless Kodo, a book of short sayings by Kodo Sawaki, but to read this interview helps me to see why he said the things he said, and where his minimalistic approach to dharma comes from. 

From his point of view, and immediately we have a big problem, because Kodo Sawaki says clearly in the interview that there are no points of view in dharma, so from his point of view, there is no point of view in dharma. To make it more logical, Sawaki understood dharma as a state of things where there are no points of view. This is how my teacher transmitted dharma to me - no points of view, just this very thing right here. So to find this superminimalistic approach to Buddhism in the interview with Kodo Sawaki is no surprise to me, and I have been teaching, wait a minute, I have always tried, after zazen, to convey something that simple, during my talks and when nothing seemed to work, I just rang the bowl we use for beginning and ending zazen.

But we all know, that even Kodo Sawaki, and my teacher and all kinds of teachers, talk, or talked, as in the case of Sawaki or master Dogen, about all kinds of things when explaining dharma. But always, it seems, Kodo Sawaki or master Dogen or my teacher, would, at last, point back to the place where there is no point of view. Kodo Sawaki in the interview even says that we should not try to attain satori. We have been discussing - directly or indirectly, openly or not so openly -  this no satori zen for ages within Dogen Sangha. Kodo Sawaki says in the interview that it is more important to just practice than to look for the truth. Then how can people who practice zazen deal with their innate interest in understanding the truth, or even, attaining the truth? And what kind of realization did master Dogen write about and taught? I think Kodo Sawaki, when telling us to forget about satori, tells us just exactly what master Dogen tried to teach, ie. tell us to get over realization, get over wanting to understand, attain, get, master, and while transcending this "I" that wants to attain something, just practice wholeheartedly, live wholeheartedly. How difficult is that?

Well, I think there are two things to look at. To do something physical, wholeheartedly, that doesn't seem to be the problem with many people, all kinds of people, within Buddhism or without, within a religion or without. We have all seen people work hard and sincerely, completely doing a job, I have seen hundreds of people like that. I see that at retreats, too. But we are talking about people who have little idea how valuable a simple, complete action is. There are also many people, who do scientific work, intellectual, academic work, sincerely and wholeheartedly. That is not a problem, either. But again, how many people really understand the value of such simple, sincere attitude? What master Dogen, and Kodo Sawaki suggest, when it comes to attaining the truth, I think they suggest that if we can see the utmost value, the ultimate value in practicing zazen itself, studying dharma itself, teaching dharma itself, cooking itself, going to bed itself, and when we get over the unnecessary complications of our intellect and just do things, manually or intellectually, we have got over the problem of attaining the truth and actually have attained the truth without saying so, because saying so would be like drawing horns to a rabbit.

So basically, Kodo Sawaki, in a seemingly cold, severe, indifferent way tries to tell us that whatever our limited self thinks about others and oneself, about dharma and other teachings, about life and death, about enlightenment and delusion, about practice an realization, whatever I , the very limited I, one of the stupidest people there are, say about whatever in the world, or write about something, based on my limited views, that has as a matter of fact, no value  in dharma. Which doesn't mean talking about our personal experience is not valuable. Just opinions based on thinking mean nothing face to face to dharma. What I am trying to write here is supposed to be based on that which is not my personal opinion. And no one's personal opinion, in fact.  In other words, Kodo Sawaki suggests that we look at ourselves and laugh. And quickly, he tells us, not only that, not only realize how limited the small self, the small ego is, rather we should immediately put on okesa - or at least something clean and appropriate -  and practice the practice of buddhas and ancestors. So Kodo Sawaki encourages us to forget about our silly ideas and become buddhas immediately by wearing okesa, looking dignified, sit down, clean and balanced, respectfully, sit down, stop talking and just practice that which is not within words or ideas. Just practice that dignity of buddhas, who have nothing to say, but a lot to do.

This world around us, is very strange, and complicated and often silly. And we often find the same mess inside our brains. Kodo Sawaki suggests that we close the door, forget about this strange world, inside and outside, and just practice that which is out of this world, and in accord with the simplest thing there is, dharma.

Maybe we tend to think that what Sawaki suggests is a good idea, but it is really not an idea. It is something that is right here, something to be done completely. It is very difficult to be so simple and beyond that rigid self, beyond this world and beyond oneself, but I am afraid that if we really want to practice the simplicity, the simple truth Kodo Sawaki teaches, we have to realize that our ego -the limited self - is not a good guide. No matter how often it will take over our body and mind, there is an opportunity to let go, wear okesa, or whatever you find dignified, practice a dignified form, and attain that which is impossible to talk about but is possible to do. The most optimistic about this all to me is that ultimately, none of us is someone we should look down to, and no one is someone we should look up to. We just need some help from people who have transcended the self, and found the simplicity of dharma in their lives, no matter how often these people act strangely and do strange things. (Not that it is always OK). This is not about becoming a great person. This is about transcending a person and acting out what is necessary to act out every day.

Zen Comes from the Deep Silence of the Universe

Zen doesn't mean that we "just" see things as they are. A monk asked: "What is the Buddhist truth?" And Joshu answered: "A cypress tree in the yard."  So I could logically say: "There's a glass of Port on the table".  So I'm a buddha because I can see it clearly. But Zen isn't that primitive. Let's have a look at the problem.  

When children are small, parents accompany them around the country and say: "This is a sparrow. This is an aspen tree.  And there's a stack over there." But no child in the world has been awakened by objective learning about the things around them. "A cypress tree in the yard" is not a lesson for a child. A cypress tree in the yard - grasped completely - is not only what we see in front of us, but also the deep truth of the universe that is invisible to our eyes. Imagine that a cypress tree in the yard would be a mere phenomenon, an object of our sight or touch. But the universe is not just what we see or hear. The truth is not just what we perceive with our senses, let alone what we understand by reason. Therefore, the truth cannot be recognized simply by reading books or attending lectures. And it is not possible to recognize it by looking at something or by listening to something, either. The Buddhist truth transcends objective and subjective, yet there is experience of it, when the division of subject and object drop. So the truth cannot be recognized by simply observing things in nature and saying, oh, that's beautiful. A Chinese Zen master said that if you want to know the deepest truth of Buddhism, listen to the sound of the creek in the valley. But he didn't mean that only that sound was the truth that the Buddha found. Anyone who hasn't lost hearing can hear the sound of the creek. But not many people can forget themselves while listening to it. When we forget ourselves and the creek as two separate things, then there's awakening, which is expressed by the sound of the creek itself. 

When I was a kid, I was fascinated by all sorts of things. I walked around the world like a lunatic. What's this? What's that over there? I saw this witch and the devil over there. Sometimes an angel. But was I able to see Dharma? No. My life was just a dream. Of course, it was a dream based on reality, but subjectively it was dreaming and dreaming. I remember riding a bike, it was nothing like the way I feel when riding a bike these days. So having eyes or ears is not the same as waking up. Indeed, the Buddha discovered the secret he called dharma. When in his fingers he turned the flower on Vulture Peak, Mahakashyapa smiled. Were the others blind? From this story we can see that it was not enough to see the flower Buddha held in his fingers. Everybody saw the flower but only one person smiled. Only Mahakasyapa penetrated the essence of Buddha's simple action.  So Buddha said to him: "You alone understood". Although there is dharma, for example in the form of a flower turned in the fingers, we do not understand it because it cannot be understood by reason. We can't see the dharma, because our eyes alone can't see the dharma. We can't hear the dharma, because our ears alone can't hear it. And yet dharma is here. 

In order to know the meaning of turning a flower in Buddha's fingers, which is dharma itself, we have to stop seeing things two-dimensionally, that is, divided by subject and object, myself and the other... me versus the flower. Me versus the teacher. But the teacher tells us - put down these two-dimensional glasses. The truth is not just what is seen outside, objectively. The truth necessarily contains the inner dimension, the "spirit", the unknown. At the same time, the truth is obvious. It is as it is, and cannot be captured by words, understood by reason, yet it is there. If it wasn't, clear and bright as the most precious jewel, there would be no Buddhism and no buddhas and ancestors. While words or senses can awaken us to the truth, in that awakening itself reason shuts up - we are stunned in a way - and the senses are no longer just a subjective experience. We have to realize that the secret of the flower that the Buddha turned in his fingers is not a secret in the sense that only the Buddha or an enlightened person knows it. The secret is also the brightest thing in the world.

So called suchness in Zen is not simply to see or do something. To wake up is to reach for and pull from the deepest depths of the universe that which is paradoxically right here. And it is bright and clear. A cypress tree in the yard comes out from its own essence. If not, then it's just a subject of botany research. How meaningful is to see a beautiful rose, when we do not see how deep and pure is its essence?  Shunryu Suzuki told his students that "it is very important to believe in nothingness of all things". Nothingness. From this "nothing" or clear essence everything arises. When I say "the universe", it is very misleading because most people imagine that I am talking about an astronomic object. But in Buddhism the universe is understood as the original emptiness of all things and a simple flower here and now at the same time. 

So if a Zen person does not understand the origin of things, then they won't treat things as infinitely valuable. They won't treat themselves as infinitely valuable appearance in the midst of the universe. I don't mean we should go crazy and bow in front of every piece of junk and bow to ourselves every morning and call ourselves perfectly holy. I mean we often forget how infinitely valuable the universe itself is, and all its parts. And we, and all the parts of the universe, are not divided, originally. So to treat a piece of junk as if it was our own hand is necessary and to treat our hands as if it was junk or dust is also important. So we are all very important, and all our body parts are important, but at the same time, everything in the universe has basically the same value. From this understanding we don't have to see ourselves as absolutely different from others or better or worse than others. We should just see how we could help. 

There is dirt and evil and injustice in the world. And there are a lot of things we want to get rid of. From an annoying mosquito to an Islamic terrorist. Of course there is suffering and misery in the world. But where did these things come from? The universe is originally perfect. So they cannot be from the universal storehouse.  Misery and suffering came with the broken mind of a civilized person, several thousand years ago. This person, He began to distinguish and began to choose what he wanted and what he did not want. So he began stealing, originally a free, natural savage, started to see differences between good and bad, expensive and cheap, this person started to steal, kill, wage wars, but also build walls, temples and amazing cities.  This person began to boast or humiliate himself or herself. They began to start a career or fall down to the bottom of the society. There was nothing like this before. Although wolves form a pack with a strict hierarchy, they do not have an opinion. The wolf that is at the bottom of the pack does not dream about becoming alpha. They are perfectly content where they are and what they are. Unlike animals, our civilized person could think and learn to find the truth and meaning of life, but usually could not see the original brightness and purity of all things. This newly educated person couldn't understand that the scent of grass was as precious as a well crafted diamond. That an old stray dog was as important as the most powerful emperor in the world. 

In this world, which we do not understand at all in its depth and complexity, no one is equal to anyone. But in this world, permeated with the purity of Dharma, the last villain deserves the same attention as a wise preacher. The smallest fly deserves the same attention as the tallest building in the world. People can do huge things. Fly to the moon. Study bacteria. They're interested in everything. And often very, very honestly. But almost nobody cares about the true meaning of all things - where they all came from. Christians believe in Christ. Christ, as he is not a person only, but a God, is perfect. Christ, because having the perfect wisdom beyond thinking of civilized people, makes no distinction between a fly and a king, between a cripple and an emperor. Because  he understands the origin of things with his whole being. So he tells people - go back to God. That is, go back to where you came from. Go back to the essential principle. Kodo Sawaki said that practicing zazen is not a task, as we have to return to our mother's womb. To return to God, according to Christianity, is the most important meaning of one's life. For Sawaki, it seems practicing zazen was the most important thing. So we can notice this urgent suggestion about where we should go if we don't want to spend our life in a cinema. 

But the place where we meet God, or return to our mother's womb, is not necessarily a beautiful garden or a pebble beach with pristine clear water or a thousand-year-old temple. The place where we encounter our essential principle, is necessarily partly in our heart and partly in external things, but these two have to become one. So we who are interested in Zen have to go beyond the limits of reason, the limits of words, and the limits of ourselves - this silly, limited Roman or whatever your name is - to reach the essential principle and meaning of things. Only there can we find the dharma of past buddhas and ancestors. Before we get there, we may intellectually understand Dharma, but our heart won't be its true home.  At the same time, now when  we do not close the gates of the heart and accept the bright quality of the universe, and have this transcendental experience, and completely forget ourselves, we have replaced our limited self with the awakened self, because we have discovered which was only partly grasped before. It is not possible to go someplace where dharma does not exist, but it is possible to cover our eyes and ears and heart with some kind of personal hallucination. What Christians call a grave sin is in Zen a kind of raging self which has lost touch with dharma. 

So a Zen person must overcome the limits of self, the limits of things, and penetrate the essence. Similarly, a pious Christian is not so pious unless they understand that all things and people belong to God, come from God and return to God. And this is not only an academic task. We must go to the origin of things with our hearts and show our connection with our everyday actions. It is not enough to lie down on the most beautiful natural beach in the world and breath out with relief and pleasure. We have to take this beach with us to the bank and the cemetery and indeed to our own grave. Then it made sense to lie on it. If you look at your wife's hand, you might find it ordinary. But do you know where that hand came from? When we understand how the whole being is originally innocent and pure, we will kiss this hand for hours and hours. And then we'll realize that it's not just her hand, it's all her body, but then we'll realize it's also a table and a garden and the woods on the horizon.  A flock of ducks. Everyone can appreciate what is obviously beautiful. When we are in the theater, houses and trees appear like a miracle from the darkness of the backstage. Stunning. But that's exactly how things appear in the universe. They come from the backstage of universal architecture and we spit and step on them. Or make them our idols. We will bow to these stones and offer sacrifice. Christians reject idols. Zen says - everything is originally pure. I remember a few years ago, many years after I started practicing zazen, walking in nature I was puzzled why the obvious beauty of the river, the trees, the clouds did not satisfy me.  People want to travel to distant countries, lie down on a hot pebble beach, let the sea tickle their bare feet, touch crabs and shells ... because like that they return to the innocence once lost. But this return doesn't make much sense if we're not able to find it in our own study ... 


It is therefore necessary to notice both the transcendental, mysterious aspect of things as well as their present, immanent form. When we let go of everything, in the mountains or in a quiet room in the middle of a busy city, we should really enjoy those moments. A Christian will think of Christ for a while.  But if we are "just" Zen people, we should practice these moments every day .... and not fall asleep intoxicated by dreams about exotic holidays while actually having exotic holidays.  Zen is realized only after someone hits us in order  to awaken us from the transcendental dizziness. Not from silence to that annoying, complaining, rigid self, but from silence to the true, free, ineffable self. When we practice zazen, no one has to kick us, because our knees hurt or we have a toothache. That is awakening. But then we have to realize how important it is that our knees hurt or teeth ache. That is a clear sign that we are still alive and this here and now is not a dream, it is dharma. Awakened from dreaming about Buddhist ideas, out of silence of zazen, awakened by the bodily functions, we face the dharma. 

The Pleasure of Doing Things Properly

In my last article I discussed the problem of suchness versus right and wrong. I said that in Buddhism we learn to see things as such, or "things as it is", quoting Shunryu Suzuki, but we also have to understand that within the world of people, some things are right and some are wrong. So we have to accept that there are these two ways to see things and both are necessary. Today I had done some cleaning at home and noticed this strange kind of pleasure I feel whenever I do things properly. And immediately I realized how I feel a kind of mental mess, or am slightly upset, whenever I don't do things properly. And we all know that Zen centers, Zen teachers, Zen temples, Zen retreats are very much about doing things properly. When I began to practice Zen as a young, bohemian, disorganized intellectual, this obligation to do everything properly got on my nerves, very much, especially when I saw how my fellow practitioners did things much better than I did and kept scolding me. So that was another reason I felt like an oddball in the world of Zen people. At the beginning of my practice and Zen studies, I kind of hoped that Zen would be a mixture of mess and enlightenment, it would be about poetry, sipping tea, listening to the wind in the woods, just like in the Zen books, not that mixture of discipline and everyday life, which Zen is in fact much more than physical and intellectual mess and enlightenment... It took me several years, probably it helped to meet Mike Luetchford, my teacher, to first accept that doing things properly not only makes sense, but later, even that doing things properly is a kind of fun and pleasure. And a few years ago I really started to enjoy doing things properly. At the moment I think I am at a stage when I often fail to do things properly, but I am not discouraged any more, when I mess up. I just feel some hope that it will be okay again tomorrow.

So why is it nice or pleasant, for me, but I suppose for most people, to do things properly? I think that at the moment of doing something properly, we are necessarily in a balanced state of body and mind and we are one with our activity, so obviously, it is a Buddhist state, a state of awakening. Who wouldn't like to be awakened? But we must notice the difference between the idea of awakening, which is absolutely abstract and unreal, and the experience of being fully present and balanced acting here and now, beyond concepts of right and wrong, even proper or improper.  I remember as a little kid I found pleasure in watching people who were busy doing something wholeheartedly, and properly. Let me explain the difference between wholehearted and proper a bit later. Now I was watching, as a kid, these people, like a neighbor who was repairing my bike, or my grandma who was cooking, baking, cleaning, knitting, sewing, washing clothes, gardening and singing all along happily. I deep down was sure that she was perfectly happy and true while being active like that. But I tended, all my life, to do the opposite... to screw up things, mess up, unfinish things, and get furious whenever something went wrong. I would give up almost everything I started... I hardly finished college and I still cannot understand how I was able to finish that school. When I met Mike, I noticed how my old grandma, strangely did things basically just like Mike - just doing it. Mike does not put emphasis on philosophy, he teaches philosophy which puts emphasis on actions. My grandmother did not talk about philosophy or the meaning of life, but she just did things. And when Mike does things, he does not talk about philosophy, either. In that way, to me they represent the same principle. So meeting Mike and seeing him just act without talking kind of helped me understand why I felt so happy and safe in the presence of my active grandma. Of course, she was willing to explain things. She would patiently explain to me how to do this and that, for example I was allowed to help her baking, and when I made a mistake, she laughed and patiently explained why what I had done was not proper stuff. So she did her best, used her skills fully and was willing to teach others what she learned from her mother and others. She did not have dharma transmission, but her mother gave her life transmission, which is at least as important. Paradoxically in Buddhism we learn why such people are our role models and buddhas. That's why I say that life transmission is much more important than academic debates about Buddhism.

This life transmission does not include much philosophy. If we don't understand the meaning of life transmission, the meaning of learning to do things properly from our teachers and parents, studying Buddha's teaching may help. Intellectuals like myself need to transcend their intellect and become someone like my grandmother. Without neglecting their intellectual knowledge, because that knowledge may be helpful or necessary at times. But not when you cook or mend clothes or sew okesa. Now I think it is clear that the balanced state and acting within that state is nice for most people and some of you may really find pleasure in being in that state. I don't mean flow necessarily, I am not sure if doing tedious work, repetitive work, like washing stairs or windows could be a flow. I think flow is fun, but a repetitive, simple actions, are not boring, if we stop judging them, labeling them as boring and ordinary, and just do them. Then we may feel the kind of pleasure I mean.

Now what is the difference between proper and wholehearted. You can see someone who is totally trying to drive a car and failing horribly. They are wholeheartedly committed to it, but it is a complete mess. You want to shout and say, no, not like that, use the clutch, oh, not the second gear, oh, no, stop... Obviously, the person is not driving properly, but they are doing it wholeheartedly. It is a bit different from doing something properly, but indifferently. So you can be a professional driver, you have driven millions of miles, all kinds of cars, but these days you get bored and distracted when driving. You do drive properly, but it is not wholehearted. You couldn't care less, you want to drive a ferrari at least, in order to enjoy driving again. Doing things properly, without care, is just routine, not pleasure at all. I find pleasure in doing things properly and wholeheartedly.

To do things wholeheartedly, but badly, is like making a lot of effort when we practice at our first retreat or when we practice zazen at the beginning. We try hard, we do our best, but we are not sure how to sit properly, how to practice properly. So we make a  lot of effort and we suffer - more or less. I think most people suffer a bit in such a situation. But I have also seen people learning new things, making mistakes, but no worries, just smile and they try again, and again, and again. Wow. I have never been like that. Kudos to them. I think for most people to practice zazen, to study Buddhism must be very difficult at the beginning, the first ten or twenty years, before the whole thing breaks in... but we know very well that there are people who couldn't care less. They just come and go, come and go.
   
In my last article I discussed the problem of right and wrong and said that in order to help this world, and ourselves, and avoid too much suffering, we need to know first what is right and what is wrong. Even what is the right way to cook and what is the wrong way. What is the right way to drive and what is the wrong way. What is the right way to act during a retreat and what is wrong. We have these concepts of right and wrong and then we do things in real life, and others decide or we decide if the actions were right or wrong. How do you install this? Oh, not this way?  I see...

But we must accept that it is not necessary to stick to, try to rigidly dwell in the state of doing everything properly and wholeheartedly. It is the ideal of Zen, but an ideal is not our real life. Our real life is much more important and much more interesting than the ideals of Zen. So if you notice that you feel nice when you stop being a bohemian mess throwing things on the floor and you begin to dust your room once a week and do your errands, etc. If you realize it is natural for you and you feel nice and balanced, that is great. And you can practice zazen the same way, just sit down, sit properly, don't worry about past and future, don't be a Buddhist intellectual, and you may find that there is something deep and true about this kind of simple way of life. Then you can return to this nice state and nice actions over and over again. But you don't want to be a proper maniac. Like some Zen people are. If you do everything perfectly, something is very imperfect about you and you may be a Japanese robot.

So the point is to learn what is right and wrong, how to do different things properly, and then just do your best, no matter how many mistakes you make. Just doing your best, here and now, doing this or that, may begin to feel strangely nice. And if you make it the basis of your life, if you find awakening in that kind of state, you may have discovered the secret of Buddha's teaching.

Suchness and the Necessity of Distinction

Have you ever heard things such as: "My zazen today was better than yesterday... or That retreat was better than this retreat. This state is better than that state. An hour of zazen is better than five minutes of zazen. Sitting in full lotus is better than sitting on a chair." Such ideas are pretty common among practitioners. I sometimes feel that it would be better if a retreat was more silent. Or that if I could practice in full lotus it would be better than if I practice in half lotus.  My mind also comes up with ideas like that but I have also learned in Buddhism that it is better to let go of such things and just return to my everyday activities without judging them. Did I just say "better"? Well, explanations of contradictions later, if you please.  

So as our mind wants us to evaluate and compare things all the time, there is this kind of dualism going on even among experienced practitioners of Zen. If you let go of all that dualism, you are holy... Seriously, our mind wants us to look at things in opposite terms, right and wrong, good and bad. So logically our mind tends to think that being twenty years old, slim and fit is better than being a hundred years old and attached to a wheel chair. But what is interesting is that from a strictly Zen point of view, or -  if you like -  from the strictest view of the truth, nothing is better than anything else. Being sick and old is as good as being just born. Having huge tits is as good as having tiny tits, etc. From that point of view sloppy zazen of a beginner is as good as an old zen master's zazen. Rainy day is as good as a sunny day, etc. The thing is, if we do not let go of even  the tiniest bits of dualism, we will be light years away  from the truth. Do you know the Shin Jin Mei, which is traditionally considered a work by the third Zen patriarch Sosan? Here is an excerpt:

The Perfect Way knows no difficulties

Except that it refuses to make preferences;

Only when freed from hate and love,

It reveals itself fully and without disguise

(trans. by D.T. Suzuki)^[8]



According to this poem, there is no room for preferences in Zen. Logically, to practice zazen would be as good as killing ants or running around temples and screaming. To study the Way would be as good as gambling. To sleep with several people a week would be as good as living in a monastery. This problem is a very, very important part of Buddhist philosophy. Although the poem Shin Jin Mei tells us over and over again that there is no room for dualism in Zen, it does not tell us that there is the flip side of the coin.  If we stop evaluating things completely, it would be better if we leave the society and live in the mountains eating pine needles, dealing with no people whatsoever. But living in the society we have to take into account, and that is something Buddhism, even the Zen part of it,  has always taken into account, and that is the suffering of the world. So as we live in the world of suffering, or at least the world of conflicts, frustration, lack of wisdom, water or food, we must respect that part of the universe which consists of opposing forces. And from that point of view it is necessary to decide what is right and what is wrong. What is great and what is lousy. Essentially, and that is the point of Shin Jin Mei, practicing Buddha's truth is as good as spitting and coughing. But if it is only that, why bother with poems about Zen? So we must understand that both suchness, in other words no dualism, and opposing aspects of the truth are necessarily part of a sensible approach to the world. But when is it better to let go of opposing views such as right and wrong and when is it necessary to decide what is better? 

I injured my knee a few weeks ago and ever since I haven't been able to sit in half lotus. I have been sitting on a chair since and I hope I will go back to half lotus in a month or so. According to Shin Jin Mei, there is absolutely no difference between sitting on a chair and sitting in half lotus. So how do we get out of this entanglement? We have to learn to accept a kind of dual understanding of things. The usual, or social understanding of things, which says there is right and wrong, good and bad, nice and ugly... there is zazen and gambling and they are not the same. Zazen is great, gambling is bad. Buddhas are great and criminals are horrible. We must follow and accept that this world is somehow black and white - or bad and good - and we want to try to follow the white line, I mean to do good and avoid doing bad. Follow wise people and ignore the words of fools. Do our best and learn from our mistakes. Practice sincerely and admit we are sometimes wrong. On the other hand, the ultimate state is the state Shin Jin Mei describes. In this state at the moment of spilling soup there is no right or wrong. When I sit on a chair, there is no right or wrong, and that sitting isn't better than zazen or worse than zazen. When we bow in front of Buddha, we do not think Buddhism is better than Christianity. Trump is not worse than Gautama Buddha. Coca cola is as good as fresh mint tea. Because right now, at this very moment, things are just what they are. The universe itself, the truth itself , does not judge, and is not right or wrong, it is just what it is.

The thing is we should not stick to ideas about right and wrong, but we need to know what is right and wrong. When we study and practice Buddhism, we learn from teachers what the right understanding of Buddhism is and what the wrong understanding is. There is the right way to sit in zazen, with your spine vertical, shoulders relaxed, you sit straight and you should not move too much. It is wrong to crouch or lie down and say it is the same as zazen and there is no need to sit up straight. But once we sit in zazen, it is necessary to forget right and wrong, and just do our best here and now. We already know how to sit, so now it is time to sit only, without judgment. When I sit on a chair, I do not think it is zazen or it is not zazen, it is good or it is bad, it is better or worse. It is just what it is. But if people say they can practice Buddhism by walking, dancing or cooking, without practicing zazen, it is wrong. Here we deal with wrong directions.

Basically everything Buddhist teachers say, within a dharma talk, are not intellectual opinions, they are directions. And the directions must lead to the truth. Dogen, strictly speaking, he wasn't  telling us his opinions when he discussed dharma. He gave directions. Directions are not opinions. He said yes to a person who said the right things about dharma and no to a person who said the wrong things about dharma. He approved a certain gesture or action and disapproved of another gesture or action. Those were directions, not the truth itself. So teaching Buddhism is not about being right. Zen is not a "good practice" or the right way of life. It is just what it is. But to get there where things are just what they are, beyond human judgment, a very strict, precise, and seemingly dualistic path, or instructions exist. And a very precise kind of practice is necessary. There are many directions, so many approvals on the one hand,  and a lot of  criticism on the other hand, in sayings of Buddhist teachers. Zazen is not something which is good to do or bad to do. Buddhism is not something better than chemistry or knitting. But Buddha Gautama was a guy who noticed it is possible to see the whole mess of human civilization, I mean both mess and its grandeur, from a completely different point of view, actually abandoning all views and just experiencing what cannot be described, practicing what cannot be replaced by words or knowledge.  He discovered reality itself. Reality free from human points of view, free from right and wrong. But discovering this reality he did not say there is no right and wrong, or that directions are not necessary. On the contrary, as soon as he decided to teach the truth, he began to tell people what the path to the truth is and what is not, which is good for others and which is not good... etc. There was a huge burden on his shoulders. In a way, he knew there was not much to say about reality, but people had thousands of questions so he gave thousands of directions, out of pure love and care for his disciples.  

Ultimately, the goal of Buddha's teaching is to liberate people from the ties and bonds of intellect, so that they could experience reality completely here and now, without ignoring the suffering and the causes of suffering of this world. Often it is necessary to reflect on the situation of the world, or somebody's state.  Here and now sipping tea you don't have to worry about the suffering of the world, but when discussing philosophy or religion, it is necessary to reflect on the suffering of this world. There is a huge difference between being trapped in the intellectual thought on the one hand, and using one's intellect to look for, to find or to show the path to freedom and responsibility at the same time - free responsibility and responsible freedom. Freedom from intellectual traps and bonds on the one hand, and responsible attitude towards the problems of this world on the other hand.

What is this free responsibility and responsible freedom? Loads of terrible things and actions and loads of beauty, and not just natural beauty, but also beauty created by human genius happen in this world.  When we see something beautiful, we should forget everything and completely enjoy the experience. When we see something terrible, it is natural to cry or feel frightened. Or do something about it, be it recycling or have a speech or get glued to railing. So enjoy the freedom to be sad or happy, act or not act, according to the situation, according to your true consciousness, but don't forget to enjoy your cup of tea or a cheesecake, despite the suffering going on in this world. If you cannot really see or taste or hear, there is immediately much more suffering in the world, so become an island of wisdom and freedom from intellectual traps and live freely and responsibly, freely responsibly, whenever possible. And forget names and judgment when you sit in zazen, and just sit, without a religion, philosophy, society, past and future. And do not allow even the most beautiful poems and the most terrible things happening in this world steal away the poetry of your own moment here and now.

Kids (goats) and What more is there to learn?

note: The following text was translated from my original Czech article using Google Translate plus my editing.

When I think about what I saw at the sesshin at the farm in Komorce, a week later, it is quite evident that we all very, very often express the true self, Buddha, whatever you call it. All the participants but also Vanda, my brother, dogs, goats, etc. express their true self very often. Of course, goat kids have the least problem with being themselves. We people often have a big problem with it. That's why Buddha Shakyamuni asked - who am I? And he practiced and then one day he found out. He didn't become himself that day, but he understood who he had been so far and most importantly, who he had been essentially, not that he became a new person, a buddha, no, he realized how he had already been buddha before, which is a big difference. He noticed that he often used to cover his true self. Now it was clear to him who he essentially was. So others began to call him Buddha, awakened.

We are often like the goat kids, completely ourselves, at a sesshin. There is no problem expressing our true selves at an event like this. Even if we ask a question, we express ourselves freely as long as  we do not have a shadow of doubt at the same time - am I asking a stupid question? Wouldn't it look stupid if I ask such a question? Or a senior participant may feel very confident... "no need to ask, I know already." A beginner has no problem asking, I mean, the fact that he or she asks a question does not mean the true self is not expressed. Quite the contrary. If a beginner has a single doubt, no problem. He doubts clearly and without a doubt. E.g. she may have a sincere doubt about being a buddha. Am I really a buddha? So she asks the teacher. When she asks clearly and honestly, it is obvious that she is a buddha. But if it is a very complicated question and the student's mind is very complicated at the time of asking, then true self cannot be expressed. As I said, it is easy for a goat kid to be itself, but for an intelligent, well-educated person it can be a big problem.

Frankly, until the beginning of 2017 I was suffering from a major inferiority complex. I had never realized it, I thought it was just me... I didn't even know it was feeling inferior, I just thought some of my colleagues or peers were much better and I underestimated myself and my abilities, obviously, this was just my feeling. It was clearly a mental disorder. When I had to talk to the others, in front of others about something important and everyone was listening, I was very nervous. When somebody criticized me publicly in front of others, I felt like I was being sent directly to hell.  It was a terrible feeling. It was very complicated, so it often interfered with my true self. I remember I wrote an article about Buddha several years ago and Mike wrote something very positive about it. When you have this inferiority complex, and someone you admire praises your work, it is like a junkie getting a dose at last. Aaaah... in heaven again. So just like a junkie you go down to hell and up to heaven over and over again, never realizing what your personal value realistically is.  Zen is a bit cruel to a person who suffers from this complex. Because it keeps telling you, be yourself, find courage, self-esteem, go straight ahead, don't give up, don't worry if others criticize you. But you just can't. And you think it is just not Zen enough... to admire others and look down on yourself or tell others Look, how great I am because I did so and so... you know this is not the way you are trying to follow.

At a sesshin the people may have all kinds of personal problems, who doesn't? But they still most of the time come across as self-confident. Anyway, about two years ago - I really don't know how it happened, but probably twenty five years of every day zazen and regular input from Mike and possibly some kind of success at work and a newly required respect from my colleagues, not sure which of these things or if all of them contributed to overcoming my mental sickness ,but at last I felt free from it. I feel much more relaxed about myself these days, at work and in situations that used to be horrible for me in the past.  So what happened two years ago made my life much easier. At last I feel like I'm a just another guy, just another guy, at times making a mistake, another time succeeding, nothing much better or worse than others. Just another participant at another retreat. Of course, I know I am different, very different, but not much worse or much better than anyone anywhere in this world...  it is still nice when I get a positive feedback and unpleasant when criticized, but I am not a junkie any more. My life doesn't depend on whether someone says I am an idiot or a sage. I'd rather have a nice cup of coffee.

... But back to the true self. Does this mean that when you overcome an inferiority complex, you automatically become your true self? Well, most people do not suffer from this mental disorder, and yet cover their true self with all kinds of ideas, dreams, opinions, attitudes... I don't believe Zen is supposed to work as psychotherapy, but we can't deny that zazen has an impact on our psyche, a big effect, that's for sure. However, the task of zazen is not to cure our mental disorders, but to let the true self appear. In other words, stop obstructing your true self.  When I was suffering from the complex, it didn't mean I was never my true self. For example, when freely swimming in the ocean, there was nothing that would prevent me from expressing myself freely.  And I saw this free expression with all the sesshin participants. You almost always show your true self - if you just do something, or simply ask, or just tell someone that the shower is busy. It is our most ordinary, essential experience that we express in a most essential, ordinary way. In a noble way, it is called the Buddha. Or simply our "everyday experience". But it's the same. Buddha or everyday experience.  So what else should we learn if we express our true selves so often and if it is not important if we sometimes forget who we truly are?

I think that at some stage of our practice it is our primary task to learn to distinguish between what I am essentially and what is my shadow. We can ask sincerely and simply, and not in a complicated way, hiding our true questions. I write long articles about Buddhism. But if they don't point to what is essential, then these articles are useless. If they do not encourage us to let go of complicated ideas and philosophies, they are useless. If they suggest that thinking is more important than acting, they are useless. If they suggest understanding is more important than honest actions, then they are wrong. So the first stage of practice - is it really me? Am I this? Is this my essence? And in the second stage, when we have already clarified what we are essentially, we may wonder how the complications of mind and life prevent us from expressing ourselves completely and truly. And we together with zazen and other people work on this never ending task of everyday life and everyday zazen practice. Then every day is a new task. If possible go to the present moment. If possible. If not, don't worry, try again later. Sometimes angry, sometimes sad, sometimes clear, sometimes cheerful, sometimes mischievous...

Kodo Sawaki said he was deluded and only thanks to zazen he saw his delusions clearly. I am not saying that we should be deluded, I am saying that we should see our weaknesses and delusions. And zazen is a very simple way to see ourselves. The Buddha does not mean you are not ordinary, but damn well you know and practice and realize in your real life that ordinary Buddha. Goat kids do this naturally. But it's amazing that someone like Buddha figured out the key to our original nature. And that although we can't do it all the time, we can often be ourselves. There's always a lot to learn. And when we like to learn and do it honestly, we immediately express our true self. What is that? I want to know! A kid goat. It is running away. It is scared. Running to its Mom.

Kůzlata a co se ještě můžeme učit?

Po delší době mám zase jednou chuť psát česky. Na posledním sesshinu vlastně jen dva lidi neuměli česky, lépe řečeno nerozuměli, ale skoro všichni rozumíme česky. Moje čeština je čím dál horší, protože většinu času trávím četbou textů v angličtině. Česky moc nečtu. Ale k věci. Když se tak zamyslím po týdnu nad tím, co jsem viděl na sesshinu na farmě Komorce, tak je zcela evidentní, že všichni velice, velice často vyjadřujeme pravé já, buddhu, jakkoliv to nazvete, true self. Každý účastník sesshinu, plus Vanda, můj bratr, psi, kozy, atd. Samozřejmě kůzlata mají nejmenší problém s tím být sami sebou. My lidé s tím máme často velký problém. A proto se Buddha Šákjamuni ptal - kdo vlastně jsem?  A cvičil a pak na to jednoho dne přišel. Nestal se toho dne sám sebou, ale pochopil, kdo je, což je velký rozdíl. Pochopil, že měl ve zvyku často překrývat svou pravou podstatu. Nyní mu bylo jasné, kdo opravdu je. Tak mu začali říkat Buddha, probuzený.

My na sesshinu jsme často jako ta kůzlata, sami sebou. Není problém vyjádřit sebe sama cele. I když se na něco ptáme, jsme sami sebou, pokud současně s tou otázkou nemáme nějaký stín pochybností - neptám se na blbost? Nebude to vypadat hloupě, když se zeptám? Začátečník nemá problém s tím, že by se musel ptát, chci říct, že to, že se začátečník ptá, nesvědčí o tom, že není sám sebou, ba právě naopak. Pokud začátečník pochybuje o svých otázkách, o sobě, o buddhismu, může tu být jeden druh pochybností a ten je v pořádku. Pochybuje jasně a bez pochybností. Např. může mít upřímné pochybnosti o tom, že je buddhou. Jsem opravdu buddhou? Tak se zeptá učitele. Když se takto jasně a upřímně ptá, je jasné, že je buddhou. Když má ale nějaké postranní úmysly nebo je jeho mysl v okamžiku otázky plná dalších otázek a odpovědí, pak nevyjadřuje své pravé já.  Jak už jsem říkal, pro kůzle je jednoduché být samo sebou, pro inteligentního, vzdělaného člověka to může být velký problém, pokud je jeho mysl plná nejrůznějších komplikací a pochybností. Jedna pochybnost - jeden buddha. Mnoho pochybností, mnoho mraků, které zakrývají slunce pravého já.

Upřímně řečeno, asi do roku 2017 jsem trpěl pocitem méněcennosti. Nikdy jsem si to neuvědomoval, protože jsem to považoval za součást mé osobnosti, nevěděl jsem ani, že to je nějaký pocit méněcennosti, myslel jsem si, že to jsem já. Ale byla to psychická porucha. Když jsem měl mluvit před ostatními, na schůzi, na sesshinu, třásl se mi hlas. Když mě někdo kritizoval před ostatními veřejně, měl jsem pocit, že mě svazují a hážou do pytle a odvezou do pekla. Byl to strašný pocit. Bylo to velmi komplikované, takže moje pravé já byla rdoušeno a nemohlo se uvolnit, projevit. Pamatuju si, jak jsem před lety napsal článek o Buddhovi a Mike mi ten článek pochválil. Když máte pocit méněcennosti, chvála druhých vyvažuje váš strašný pocit vlastní nedostatečnosti a špatnosti. Ano, chvála druhých lidí, kterých jsem si vážil, mi dávala odvahu bojovat s mým životem, který byl poznamenán pocitem méněcennosti.  Jenže to bylo pořád skopce do kopce. Když mě někdo kritizoval, propadal jsem se na dno, když mě někdo pochválil, zase jsem se na chvíli vznesl a mohl dýchat. Čerpal jsem z toho na další aktivity.  Zen je pro člověka, který trpí pocitem méněcennosti, trochu krutý. Protože mu pořád říká, buď sám sebou, najdi odvahu, sebevědomí, jdi pořád rovně, nevytahuj se, ani nepadej pod tíhou kritiky. Vidím na sesshinu lidi, kteří můžou mít nejrůznější osobní problémy, ale působí pořád sebevědomě a klidně. Každopádně jsem asi před dvěma roky - opravdu nevím, jak se to stalo, ale nepochybuju o tom, že to mj. ovlivnila moje dlouholetá praxe zazenu a studium filozofie a živý kontakt s Mikem, prostě ne okamžitě, ale asi během týdne tak nějak odpadlo to břemeno, které jsem nosil možná od pěti let v sobě. Že nejsem hoden... nejsem stejně dobrej jako vy ostatní. A tak mi nezbývá než na sebe upozornit, hele, co jsem napsal, hele, jakou hudbu jsem složil, hele, co jsem namaloval. Když máte pocit méněcennosti, prostě potřebujete, aby si někdo všiml, že se vám něco podařilo. Bez toho nemůžete žít. Takže lidi vás považujou za nezralého. Proč na sebe potřebuje upozornit? A Zen učí, jen seď, jen pracuj, jen do your best...

Co se stalo před dvěma roky mi nesmírně ulehčilo život. Mám pocit, že už jsem normální, chybující součástí společnosti, normální, chybující součástí společenství lidí na sesshinu...  na schůzích v práci mě pořád ještě udivuje, když něco řeknu a pak si uvědomím, že se mi netřásl hlas, že jsem si nepřipravoval svou otázku nebo odpověď pět minut předem... Je to velmi příjemné a většina z vás to má jako přirozenou součást života. Toto adekvátní sebevědomí... Ale zpátky k pravému já.  Znamená to, že když člověk odhodí pocit méněcennosti, stává se automaticky sám sebou? Je už to pravé já, je od té doby buddha? No přece skoro většina lidí netrpí pocitem méněcennosti, ale jejich pravé já je zastíněno jinými problémy a pocity.  Je to zvláštní - nevěřím, že Zen má fungovat jako psychoterapie, ale nemůžeme popřít, že zazen má vliv na naši psychiku, velký vliv, o tom není sporu.  Nicméně úkolem zazenu není upravovat naši psychiku, ale odkrývat pravé já. Když jsem trpěl pocitem méněcennosti, neznamená to, že jsem nikdy nebyl sám sebou. Právě v okamžicích, kdy jsem nebyl pod tlakem společnosti, kolegů, učitele zenu, kamaráda, který mě před ostatními kritizoval, když jsem byl někde sám nebo se cítil přirozeně se svou přítelkyní, zcela jistě jsem byl sám sebou, projevoval pravé já. A to jsem viděl i u všech účastníků sesshinu. Skoro pořád projevujete své pravé já - když prostě něco děláte, nebo se prostě a jednoduše zeptáte, nebo prostě někomu řeknete, že ve sprše je obsazeno. Je to naše nejelementárnější zkušenost, kterou nejelementárněji vyjadřujeme. Elegantně, vznešeně se tomu říká Buddha. Jednoduše se tomu říká každodenní zkušenost. Ale je totéž.  Co se tedy máme ještě učit, pokud jsme každou chvíli sami sebou, když cílem není chovat se jako buddha celé dny, bez přerušení?

Myslím, že v určitém stádiu praxe je naším prvořadým úkolem naučit se rozlišovat mezi tím, co jsem ve své podstatě, a co k té podstatě zbytečně přidávám. Někdo třeba zažije satori a pak chodí a říká, satori jsem zažil, satori jsem zažil, víte co to je satori? Já jo. A postaví na tom kariéru. Ten člověk sám sebe obelhává. Pokud zažil satori, pak ví, že to není nic, na co by se dalo ukázat. Lépe by udělal, kdyby se choval jako obyčejný člověk.  Takže i když někdo dosáhne takové zkušenosti, může se chovat jako pěkný mamlas a vlastně si kálí do pravého já, když mluví o svém satori. Kodo Sawaki tohle hodně kritizoval. Takže v určitém stadiu praxe bychom měli zkoušet rozlišovat, co opravdu jsme a co nejsme. Ptát se upřímně a jednoduše, a ne komplikovaně a s postranními úmysly. Odpovídat jednoduše a upřímně. Já píšu dlouhatánské články o buddhismu. Pokud mezi řádky není naprostá a elementární prostota, pak k čemu takové články? Pokud neukazují k tomu základnímu, je to k ničemu. Ale občas prostě píšu o nějakém složitém problému. Možná to neznamená, že je v tu chvíli moje mysl zmatená. Takže první stádium praxe - jsem to opravdu já? Jsem tohle já? Je tohle moje podstata? A v druhém stádiu, kdy už se ujasnilo, co vlastně jsme, už jen koukáme, jak se nám do té krásné jednoduchosti pletou komplikace mysli a života. Tady není úkolem s tím něco dělat, snažit se takové mraky odstranit, tady je úkolem vracet se do přítomnosti. Co právě teď děláš? Právě teď jsem naštvanej a nemám náladu se s tebou bavit. Pokud je to tak, budiž. To není problém. Dříve nebo později budeme muset jít na záchod a naše pravé já se objeví. Jinak počůráme prkýnko, nebo holky nevím co - co můžou holky počůrat? To není fair. Vím, že v přírodě to maj těžký, ale my to zase máme těžký na WC.

Ještě mě napadá, může vlastně člověk s nějakým komplexem žít probuzený život? Může, ale musí jasně vidět, co je komplex a co je jeho pocit nebo názor. Například si musí uvědomit - teď budu mít trému, ale to je jedno, prostě něco řeknu. To je pravé já. Vím, že komplex je, tak s ním nebojuju. Falešné já znamená - zkusím předstírat, že mám sebevědomí. Kodo Sawaki říkal, že je oklamaný a že díky zazenu si to uvědomuje. Netvrdím, že nemáme být nikdy oklamaní - ale mít ve zvyku své klamy v zazenu odhalovat. Jsme jenom lidé. Buddha neznamená nebýt obyčejným člověkem, ale sakra dobře vědět, v čem ten "obyčejný člověk" spočívá - a zkoušet to praktikovat ve vlastním životě.  Kůzlata to mají jednoduché. My lidi složité. Ale je úžasné, že někdo jako Buddha přišel na to, že tu je klíč k naší původní přirozenosti. A že i když se nám to nemůže dařit neustále, často můžeme být prostě sami sebou. Pořád je co se učit. A když se to učíme rádi a upřímně, sami sebou opravdu jsme.  Kůzlata to tak dělají a dělají ty ráda.