Leaving the Impression Behind →

There's a sign on the wall here in the Dharma room, “leave no trace” of having been here. No garbage, nothing out of place, paying attention to how the room was when we got here, and paying attention to leaving it that way. If nothing else, that's common courtesy. Given the number of different people who come in here—from us to massage therapists to mental health counselors to dancers, if it were any other way than what it was when we came in, it would be inconsiderate to leave the room otherwise. It might be convenient for us to leave the altar and mats in place, but not for the dancers. If the massage table were left in the middle of the room, it's not like they could work around it too easily. (Of course, Zen practitioners that we are, we would certainly proceed without judging how inconvenient this is, and what an awful person that masseuse must be).

On a practical level, when we clean the dishes, we pay attention that no food is left behind. We also put the dishes back where they're supposed to go, even if that's the dish drainer, because the dish drainer's correct function is to allow the dishes to dry--no trace of the water is left behind.

Zen Master Thich Thien-An quotes a poem:

“Swallows fly in the sky,
The water reflects their images.
The swallows leave no traces,
Nor does the water retain their images”.

That's a metaphor of course; birds fly, but they don't leave much of a wake in the air, “cluttering it up” so that the next bird has to work around it. Fish swim, water is disturbed for a moment, then returns to its natural state. Even when the air and the water combine to create waves, once the wind stops, the waves stop. Both air and water return to their undisturbed state. When we pay attention to what is happening right here&now, we may be in the disturbed, wave-like state, we may be in the calm, peaceful state of equanimity. When the waves stop, we don't have to act like they're still there, emotionally battening down the hatches. When something challenging happens, we can either ignore it and suffer the consequences like the inhabitants of barrier reefs who don't evacuate when there's a hurricane, or like the residents in the line of a forest fire just stay put, even when the fire is at the door. Peaceful, calm equanimity is wonderful, and even in those situations when disaster is knocking, we deal with disaster and don't have to turn it into something: “Oh, this always happens to me, what did I do to deserve this?!?” Water rises, get a raft. Fire's in the yard, grab a hose.

But either way, at some point we will be going into a wave if calm, into the calm if we're in a wave. And maybe sometimes, waves turn into tsunamis, not directly alternating with calm. The good news is that even tsunamis end. The bad news is that even when they end, we may be all too ware of the tsunami having been there. But, if we're surfers, we may like the waves, even be attached to the waves, becoming unhappy when they calm down. If we like placid, we may become attached to placid, and become upset when there is a disturbance. We all know someone who is at their best when the heat is on, a regular adrenaline junkie. We all know people who are like that becoming embroiled in situations that may not even be their own situation, and making waves when there needn't be any.

But even then, due to the impermanence and emptiness of all dharmas subject to causes and conditions, they really are transparent, they really will pass. That's just how impermanence works. Our thinking is what makes them how they are, not how they are in reality. And that's fine, that's how things are too, and when we're in the middle of the emotional tsunami, that seems totally irrelevant. The Buddha's First Noble Truth points to that sometimes things are just not to our liking. We get the opportunity to apply the other Noble Truths and the Eightfold Path over and over again. Maybe that helps, maybe it takes a little while longer to help than we'd like. But even though we create all things by what's going on in between our ears, knowing that we isn't much of a help when we're really deeply feeling something. “Feelings are empty,” the Heart Sutra tells us. It sure doesn't seem empty when we're really hurting. So we feel the hurt, when the hurting is over, we really should let it pass, and that's probably easy enough in most cases. The same applies to being joyous, and letting that go might be a little more difficult. But eventually, that happens too.

We live in the world of the Relative, where even though the “things” themselves are non-existent, that we are feeling them regardless is reality. Even being delusional about reality is in and of itself reality. That's the Absolute manifesting itself in the Relative. And part of that manifestation is that reality doesn't just contain impermanence, emptiness, struggle, and non-struggle. Let's not forget about the interdependence of all dharmas. It might be nice to live in a world of black/white progression, of “feeling, feeling is empty, let go of feeling, feeling is gone.” But we don't.

It might be nice to live in a world of leaving no trace, but every single action, thought, and word is going to leave an impression. Walk on a beach leave footprints in the sand, wave washes away the footprints, done. No trace. Really? What if countless sea creatures die because of the impression of the feet? What about whether those footprints somehow contribute to beach erosion? And what if that erosion contributes somehow to the next tsunami?

Paper or plastic? Plastic ends up in landfills, maybe strangles a bird, takes resources and energy to manufacture it in the first place. Paper also uses resources—trees, lack of which contributes to the imbalance between oxygen and carbon dioxide. Fossil fuels undoubtedly are used to power the saws that cut the tree down, further contributing to air pollution. The possible unintended consequences are virtually endless. Even these words might cause someone to reach either some sort of understanding, have no reaction at all, or maybe become totally disconsolate over the hopelessness of not knowing what to do, and has even more struggle because of it? Obviously it's not my intention to cause more suffering, but I'm aware it might. How that suffering is dealt with by the sufferer will have its own ramifications, maybe positive, maybe neutral, maybe negative, and on and on and on.

There's a Zen quote about being like firewood, burning out completely in our activities, leaving nothing undone—but metaphorically, maybe our fire creates pollution, maybe the fire kills animals in the vicinity or underneath it, maybe the ash and residue contributes to the next generation of plants to grow. Ash doesn't return to firewood directly, firewood doesn't return to tree directly, but maybe they can do so eventually. So it is with our actions and non-actions. We can't become paralyzed into non-action, as even that is action, unless done skillfully.

So what to do? We take the Middle Path. It's not all meaningless nihilism, it's not all meaningful determinism. In the Five Mountain Order, we talk about “Do no harm.” We try our best to be the most effective Bodhisattvas we can be. If our best isn't necessarily saving all beings, then maybe at least the outcome isn't creating hell for ourselves or others.

But being attached to an outcome—as either a goal or a result—is still attachment. If I think, “Well that was a great talk, definitely saved all beings there,” I'm attached to the impression I might have made. Correct action in this situation is to realize that in some way, my words have made an impression, good, bad, indifferent. But once the impression is made, leave that impression behind, and skillfully make the next one, then leave that impression behind. And maybe eventually our “ash” saves all beings, even though I'll be off leaving more impressions.

Maybe your interpretation of “leave no trace” is different from the way I'm using it here for these examples. It may verge toward a Huayan reading of interdependence rather than a strict Zen one. This turning of the phrase “leave no trace”—if it results in the impression that I'm wrong, Wonderful! If you think it's an interesting take on it, Wonderful!

I'm off to make my next set of proverbial dents in the proverbial sand. Eventually it will return to its natural state.

Click on the title to listen to the Dharma talk, or navigate to:
https://soundcloud.com/onemindzen/leaving-the-impression-behind

Not-Thou Shall Not →

In the Five Mountain Zen Order Precepts ceremony, we say, “Most religions have moral and ethical rules and commandments. In Buddhism there are Precepts, however the Buddhist Precepts are not a list of rules to follow, they are signposts meant to guide us on our path to awakening”.

One thing I like about the Precepts as they are commonly given now, is that they not only tell you what not to do, they also spell out what to do instead. They affirm as much as they proscribe. It's a nice signpost, “don't be greedy, be generous”. Sometimes that's a real head-slapping moment.

But...they are no more hard-and-fast than any other of the Buddha's teachings. The moment you think there is something firm on which you can put your foot, the Buddha swipes it away. And those of us who really are looking for something solid, for something, predictable, something that's going to last, well, we're out of luck. They require us to pay attention to situation, relationship, and function. Since even the Precepts are subject to causes and conditions, always changing, changing, changing, we've got to be flexible and adaptable, just to keep up with the changing situations and relationships, if we want to respond according to the way our innate Buddha would respond with correct function.

These are the Five Lay precepts, first from the Five Mountain Zen Order, then another couple versions from other sources (I believe the “disciple of the Buddha” versions are from the San Francisco Zen Center, but I'm not quite sure where the first alternate is from).

The First Precept: I vow to support all living creatures, and refrain from killing.

• Affirm life; Do not kill

• A disciple of Buddha does not kill but rather cultivates and encourages life

The Second Precept: I vow to respect the property of others, and refrain from stealing.

• Be giving; Do not steal

• A disciple of Buddha does not take what is not given but rather cultivates and encourages generosity.

The Third Precept: I vow to regard all beings with respect and dignity, and refrain from objectifying others.

• Honor the body; Do not misuse sexuality

• A disciple of Buddha does not misuse sexuality but rather cultivates and encourages open and honest relationships

The Fourth Precept: I vow to be truthful, and refrain from lying.

• Manifest truth; Do not lie

• A disciple of Buddha does not lie but rather cultivates and encourages truthful communication.

The Fifth Precept: I vow to maintain a clear mind and refrain from harming myself or others with intoxication.

• Proceed clearly; Do not cloud the mind.

• A disciple of Buddha does not intoxicate self or others but rather cultivates and encourages clarity.

There are a couple different approaches to the Precepts: Hinayana and Mahayana. And that's not Hinayana as a pejorative term for any other form of Buddhist practice, it's just Small Vehicle versus Great Vehicle, as Asvagosa referred to it in “Awakening of Faith in the Mahayana.” Think of it as “Little 'I'” versus “Big 'I',” if you like.

The Hinayana level is the most literal: The first precept is to refrain from killing, So one doesn't go out and kill. This corresponds to the relative—there's a you, there's a me, and I should not kill you.

The Mahayana is the compassionate level—that of the Bodhisattva. We refrain from killing not because the Precept tells us not to do it, the Bodhisattva couldn't conceive of taking a life by violent means without the thought of all beings.

That's not a particularly bi-leveled set of interpretations and actions, either Hinayana or Mahayana. One can start out really literally just not killing other humans, then maybe moves on to not squashing bugs underfoot, then maybe moves on to some of the proscriptions from the Pali Canon. The Buddha said in those scriptures not to kill directly another being (hopefully not a human) for your own food, and also not to have someone else directly kill for your food. The lobster in the tank has nothing to fear from you at this point.

Then later on, maybe due to taking another set of precepts, or reading some of the Mahayana Sutras where it eating flesh is proscribed, you might move into vegetarianism or veganism. (This is probably also the point where arguments with other Buddhists ensue as to whether being an omnivore is against the Buddha's teachings or not). Speaking facetiously, as much fun it is to argue that issue, it's not really as simple as “Well the Sutras say this,” or “The precepts I took say...” Situation, relationship, and correct function comes into play. Much as we might want to have that black & white reliability of “Kill=Go to Hell,” it's just not that way with the Precepts. It can be argued that it's not that way in general, Buddhist or not, Precepts or no Precepts. But that's another argument to have “fun” with some time. Some sort of karmic response to the intentional thought, speech, or action will come, but it depends....

Here's a hypothetical situation for you, and unfortunately one that you might see in the news any day. And let's say you identify yourself as a vegan Buddhist.

You're walking down the beach, and you encounter a starving, half-dead, extremely weakened Syrian child. And there's a ham sandwich just out of his reach. You have choices of what to do next:

1. Because you're a Vegan Buddhist, you think about it, and decide not to give him the sandwich, but will go off and try to find a salad for him.

2. Because you're a vegan Buddhist, you you think about it and decide that the Buddhist thing to do would be to show the kid some lovingkindness, and give him the sandwich.

3. You're in turmoil because your two self-identification labels are confusing you as to what you should do, so you walk away, and hope that someone else will deal with it. Maybe you mutter something to the effect of “No birth/no death, the kid and the sandwich are made by mind alone. They're both just illusions.”

4. You react to the situation at hand, see starving child, see sandwich, feed the sandwich to the starving child, without needing to contemplate it at all.

Maybe another hypothetical situation, one from ZM Seung Sahn's “Compass of Zen” lectures. It's also something that you could also encounter virtually any time you walk down the street lately. A gunman is in the midst of committing mass-murder at a school. You're a police officer. The side of your squad car even says, “To Protect and Serve.” You're on-duty, and you have your weapon, the one you've never used before. And, for the sake of this being hypothetical, let's say you are a Buddhist and have taken the Five Precepts. Again, you have a choice to make:

1. You can say, “The First Precept says not to take life, so I'll try to reason with him.” And then maybe he's “unreasonable,” and continues shooting away.

2. You can say, “Oh, I'm a police officer, so maybe I should try to do something about this.” And then maybe he continues shooting away.

3. Or, before thought, you can react to the situation at hand, and proceed with whatever the correct function is, as it presents itself at that moment.

Bodhidharma states in the Breakthrough Sermon, and Huineng echoes him—Morality, Meditation, and Wisdom—that these are the practices that matter. The Three Pure Precepts—vowing to “Put an end to Evil,” “Cultivate Virtues,” and “Liberate all beings” combat the Three Poisons of Greed, Anger, and Delusion. First we stop being greedy, angry, and ignorant. Then we move on to practicing Generosity, Lovingkindness, and Wisdom. We save all beings by allowing them to express their own Awakened “Big 'I',” we allow ourselves to do the same.

All the precepts are to be taken seriously...but carried lightly. As Wonhyo is reported to have said, “Even hell-beings need saving.” If saving requires a Precept or two to be broken, break them. But do it skillfully, and with proper motive. Breaking one because it's simply more convenient is not Bodhisattva action.

And unfortunately for those of us who'd really like to take the easy way, sorry. The Precepts are “Not-Thou Shall Not.”

Click on the title to listen to the Dharma talk.
 

Turn it UP!!! →

Strictly speaking, Haiku poetry has just a couple rules—3 lines, 17 syllables total, 5-3-5 syllables per line, and NO METAPHORS, NO ANALOGIES!!!! So many of the well-known haikus of the past may seem like they're just praising nature, but just as likely only observing it.

Alan Watts translated Basho's famous haiku as: 

“The old pond,
A frog jumps in:
Plop!”

(I'm assuming that in Japanese that probably went with the 17-syllable rule, but I don't speak Japanese). 

I don't think Basho had any real feeling about the pond or the frog much one way or the other. He probably happened to be sitting on the bank of a pond, frog jumped in the water, consequently, “plop.” If he were in Tokyo at rush hour, the poem could possibly read:

“Overcrowded train
Salaryman here
white-gloved conductor, shove, shove”

Here's Steve Earle's definition of blues music: Statement of a problem, repeated twice, followed by an implausible solution, in 12-bars. The blues will quite often be just as observational, it's just that the observations seem to take place when some travesty has hit.In honor of the Blood Moon of September 2015, here's a "Blue Haiku:"

“Blood Moon Blues (verse 1)”

There's a moon in the sky
And it has started to bleed
There's a moon in the sky
And it has started to bleed
Gonna make a deposit
At the Blood bank, save its life

Our Zen practice is typified by our direct experience of reality—a frog jumping in the water, your wife up 'n' leaving you, train conductor with his knee in your back. And that “reality” is as much as we can see looking through the keyhole of our own sense-gates. That keyhole is most likely often covered up by layer upon layer of delusion—mistaking our limited perception as “reality.” But even that adulterated version of reality is there for us to experience fully. Sometimes, even though we think we're going to save the moon's life by donating blood, there's a good chance that while the moon isn't what's saved, maybe someone will be. Mistaken assumption, correct motive, correct outcome.

From the Chapter 15 of the Mahaparinirvana Sutra, “The Parable of the Moon:” (Tony Page translation)

"...For example, by the full moon, everything appears. In all places as in towns, hamlets, mountains, swamps, under-water, wells or ponds, and in water utensils, the moon manifests itself. Beings may be traveling 100 or [a] thousand [miles], and the moon always accompanies them. Common mortals and the ignorant think loosely and say: "I see all such in the castle town, in the house, and here in the swampy ground. Is it the true moon, or not the true one?"

“Each person thinks about the size of the moon and says: "It is like the mouth of a kettle."

“Or a person says: "It is like a wheel."

“Or some may say: "It is like 45 [miles] or [4,500 miles] [in size]."

“All see the light of the moon. Some see it as round as a golden basin. The nature of this moon is one in itself, but different beings see it in different forms. O good man! The same is the case regarding the Tathagata. He appears in the world. Man and god might think: "The Tathagata is now before us and lives."

“The deaf and dumb see the Tathagata as one deaf or dumb. Diverse are the languages which beings speak. Each thinks that the Tathagata speaks as he or she speaks, or thinks.

"….A person might mistake him for a sravaka, or a pratyekabuddha; [and they] might think and say: "The Tathagata is now in my line of thought [following my line of thought] and is practicing the Way"; or a person might think: "The Tathagata has appeared for me alone."

“The true nature of the Tathagata is like that of the moon. That is to say that it is the Dharma-Body, the Body of birthlessness, or that of expediency. He responds to the call of the world, being innumerable in [his] manifestations. The original karma manifests itself in accordance with the differing localities. This is as in the case of the moon. For this reason, the Tathagata is eternal and unchanging.”

We still do what the Buddha refers to! We mistake our key-hole view of reality as the totality of reality. We even think the Buddha speaks English or Chinese or Korean or Japanese because we do. If we don't go to that drastic a length, we think that whatever translation we happen to have read is the verbatim version of the Sutra as spoken by the Buddha, and whatever the next translation we read is not as good as the first.

We latch onto whatever Sutra happens to justify our (pre-existing) view of what the Dharma should be saying. Maybe we impose our 21st Century pop psychology, some scientific statistic to a Sutra that is not from the 21st Century, not psychology, and not science. Deep down, even though we may intellectually know that our body will die, can we really imagine the world continuing to spin, the moon to go through its phases, the seasons to change, without our hand firmly on the steering wheel of the universe? Our ability to experience “reality” directly is as limited as our thinking allows.

Even with all these limitations, delusions, and so on, every now and then it all can come out alright. Even when we act out of fear, it still might result in our doing the “right” thing, we may still get the correct outcome. The impetus for what we do may be flawed, but our resultant actions may provide a wholesome outcome. The old saying, “Fake it til you make it,” is certainly applicable, if we start to counter greed, anger, and delusion by practicing, sila, samadhi, and prajna—morality, meditation, and wisdom. Maybe at first we have to force our way into them “like” a Tokyo subway conductor was doing the pushing, but it may follow that those eventually come naturally. When they do, they become habits as much as the Three Poisons may have been. 

Any time we use an analogy—the moon is “like” a wheel--we're one step removed from reality, and our direct experience of it. We hear the Parable of the Moon, and we start picturing the moon in our heads, not getting past the metaphorical moon to the message. If Bessie Smith were a Zen practitioner, when she is singing about peaches, you can best believe she's standing in an orchard. 

What “it” is like isn't “it,” IT is “it.” 

With practice, we can get to the point where when we see the moon, we see the moon, not something like a wheel. When you taste sour, pucker. When tired, yawn. When sleepy, go to sleep. When your life is a blues song, embrace the blue and cry. When you hear the cries of the world, don't be like Kwan Seum Bosal, be Kwan Seum Bosal, and save all sentient beings. 

To use a dreaded metaphor, when we're slipping away from this moment, our attention is drifting, and it's inconvenient to hear the cries of the world, and there's too much other life-music that's getting louder than the cries of reality, go to the volume knob on reality, and TURN IT UP!

“Blood Moon Blues (verse 2)”

There's a moon in the sky
It's the same moon everywhere
There's a moon in the sky
It's the same moon everywhere
All sentient beings
Gotta lotta work to do

Thanks to Dharma brother Gary Cociollilo for the inspiration from his talk, “There is No Such Thing as a Sour Note.”

Click on the title to listen to the Dharma talk.

"Outline of Practice" by Bodhidharma →

This is the text of Bodhidharma's "Outline of Practice" Translated by Ven. Dr. Wonji Dharma, Guiding Teacher-Five Mountain Zen Order and some of Red Pine's "The Zen Teachings of Bodhidharma."

This is what I based the first talk in the Bodhidharma series from September 2015. The italic text below is my commentary, which is largely my takeaway from the text. As such, you may agree with it, you may not. My interpretations are what I came up with upon reading the text for the first time in a few years, and I'd forgotten what a formative text it is, and how much of our practice today comes directly from Bodhidharma. His teachings are reworking of previous Sutras, putting them in a skillful way for his students of that time in China, approximately 1,600 years ago. A couple of my favorite lines I've highlighted as bold text. 

"MANY methods lead to the Path; however, fundamentally there are only two: reason and practice. To enter by reason means to realize the essence through instruction and to trust that all living things share the same true nature, yet this is not apparent because our normal perception is shrouded in sensation and delusion".

•  When we start our practice, a tree is a tree, and only ever a tree. We strive for the permanence that certainty brings us. We want that tree to be a tree, and the “me” to be “me” and to stay “me” even more. If the tree loses its leaves during the autumn, maybe it makes us sad. But our true sadness comes when we see that our own “leaves” are starting to fall.
• Once we are reminded that all beings share a True Nature, that all we see is constantly changing, changing, changing, even from one moment to the next we can choose how we approach this dilemma: We can either deny it, and continue to live in delusion with all the struggle that brings, or we can have faith in our teacher and that the Dharma is just the way things are.

"Those who return from delusion back to this moment, who meditate in presence, the absence of self and other, the oneness of worldly being and sage, and who remain unmoved even by scriptures are in complete and non-conceptual agreement with reason. Without moving, without effort, they enter, we say, by reason".

•  Realization of the Absolute, the acceptance of the Absolute
•  In the Absolute, there is no duality—self/other, worldly being/sage
•  No clinging to previous beliefs, including scriptures
• Before thought--Not-intellectual, intuitive only, not-conceptual

"To enter by practice refers to four all-inclusive practices: Experiencing injustice, adapting to conditions, seeking nothing, and practicing the Dharma.

"First, is the experience of injustice: When those who embark on the Path encounter adversity, they should resolve that, “In the countless moments of my life gone by, I’ve turned from the essential to the trivial and wandered through all manner of conceptualizations, often angry without cause and guilty of numberless transgressions.

"This moment, though I do no wrong, I am allowing my past to control my present. Neither gods nor men can foresee when an incorrect deed will bear its fruit. I accept it with an open heart and without complaint of injustice. The Sutras say, “When you meet with adversity don’t be upset, because it makes sense.” With such understanding, you are in harmony with reason. In addition, by experiencing injustice you enter the Path".

• Akin to First Noble Truth—“Injustice”= Struggle/dissatisfaction—“dukkha.” 
•  Speaking of karmic consequences; unwholesome intentional actions will bear the fruit of those actions—when, where, how are not of our choosing.
• Living in the past by regretting the karmic outcome, taking it personally, “Oh, why me? The world is out to get me,” is a symptom of not paying attention! This moment is here because it is dependent on all causes and conditions to this point. When karma manifests in the here&now, it is in the here&now that we have the opportunity to act…or not, depending on the situation, relationship and correct function.

"Second, adapting to conditions. As worldly beings, we are ruled by conditions, not by our momentary perceptions. All the uneasiness and joy we experience depend on conditions. If we should be blessed by some great reward, such as fame or fortune, it is the fruit of a seed planted by some unforeseen events. When conditions change, the situation changes, therefore, why do we delight in its existence? Nevertheless, while success and failure depend on conditions, our true self neither waxes nor wanes. Those who remain unmoved by the wind of joy silently follow the Path".

• Akin to 2nd Noble Truth—there is a cause for this feeling of dissatisfaction—our karma.
• Even “good” results are temporary because they depend on causes & conditions.
• “True Self” in not conditional. It’s been here all along. In truth, it didn’t come, and it won’t go. It’s just clouded by layers and layers of delusion. Our small “I” is what comes and goes, thinking that all depends on us, when we are what depends on all else.

"The third method is seeking nothing. People of this world are deluded. They are always longing for something-always, in a word, seeking. However, the wise wake up. They choose reason over construct. They fix their minds on the transcendent and experience their bodies changing with the seasons. All phenomena are transparent. They contain nothing worth desiring. Calamity forever alternates with Prosperity! To dwell in the three realms of existence is to dwell in a burning house. To have a body is to experience discomfort and sometimes suffering. Does anyone with a body know peace? Those who understand this realize that all that exists is constantly changing and stop Imagining or seeking anything. The sutras say, “To seek is to experience disappointment.” “To seek nothing is harmony.” When you seek nothing, you are on the Path".

• Akin to 3rd Noble Truth—there is a cessation possible. 
• "Seeking” is to be in a constant state of dissatisfaction with the present moment. 
• To seek nothing is to be absorbed in what it present: Our actions, our environment, our thoughts about them. That determines what we do in this moment, and determines what will come in the next moment. 
• Not to be “here,” is to be living in fantasy. Where else is there?

"The fourth method is practicing the Dharma. The Dharma is the truth that all true natures are of themselves pure. Within this truth, all appearances are transparent. Defilement and attachment, as well as subject and object do not exist. The sutras say, “The Dharma includes no being because it is free from the conceptualization of being, and the Dharma includes no self because it is free from the adulteration of self.”  Those wise enough to trust and understand these truths are bound to practice according to the Dharma. In addition, since that which is real includes nothing worth begrudging, they give their body, life, and property in charity, without regret, without the separation of giver, gift, or recipient, and without bias or attachment. Moreover, to eliminate adulteration they teach to others and without becoming attached to form; through their own practice, they are able to help others and glorify the Dao of awakening. Moreover, as with charity, they practice the other virtues. Nevertheless, while practicing the six virtues to eliminate delusion, they practice nothing at all. This is what is meant by practicing the Dharma".

• Akin to 4th Noble Truth--what to do, how to behave, in order to get out of our self-imposed struggle. 
• The way is “The Way,” i.e. practicing the Dharma. 
• From the Diamond Sutra—pointing to the Absolute 
• All beings are no-beings (out of convenience, they are called “beings.”) 
• Self is no-self, thus is it called “self.” 
• Intuitive “before thought” response to situations leads to no need for thought. One is being generous, as there is no alternative to which it could be compared. There is only, “How may I help you?” 
• The Six Perfections are only “perfections” when there are “afflictions.” When all afflictions are seen to be transparent, there are no “real” afflictions, and only what we’d call “correct” function is present.
• Do we have to think about breathing? There is only breathing.
• When practicing the Dao, there is likewise only practicing. 
• Although this is the one section that doesn't end with "the Path," when truly realizing the Dharma, one also realizes that there is no "Path," that everything is the "Path."

Click on the title to listen to the Dharma talk from September 3, 2015.

That Crazy Red-bearded Barbarian →

Over the course of the month of September 2015, we’ve been studying and discussing Bodhidharma. The “Zen Teachings of Bodhidharma” is a collection of sermons attributed to him. We’ve used both Red Pine and Ven. Wonji Dharma’s translations of these four texts: “Outline of Practice,” “Bloodstream Sermon,” “Wake-up Sermon,” and “Breakthrough Sermon.”

In Week One, I give some background biographical information on Bodhidharma—the first Chan (Zen) Patriarch. “Biography” implies the story of one’s life, so that may not be an entirely accurate description—since there are those who doubt Bodhidharma’s existence, where he came from (the Kong-an asks “Why did Bodhidharma come from the West?” not why did he come from southeastern India), and years of birth, death, and stories about what came in between.

He’s often referred to as the “Red-bearded Barbarian,” sometimes even with “Blue-eyed” thrown in. I don’t know what the ethnic traits of the population of southern India were 1,500+ years ago, so I can’t really comment on whether blue-eyes and a red beard automatically disqualify his coming from India. And I can’t say that it disqualifies him coming from modern-day Persia or Afghanistan either. And of course, how well translated “Red-bearded, blue-eyed barbarian” is from the Chinese of that long ago is questionable to me as well. All that notwithstanding, Bodhidharma is a legendary figure, whether it’s all based on legend or not.

If you want biographical information, there are plenty of sources, both from Zen and Kung-Fu standpoints. (He is also credited with being the teacher to the monks at Shaolin Temple in the martial art). There’s even a movie called “Bodhidharma, Master of Zen,” that goes into both those aspects. In its 1970-ish Kung-Fu movie way, it’s very entertaining if you like that sort of thing. I wouldn’t necessarily base any scholarly research on it, however. Then again, it could be 100% accurate.

Regardless of any arguments about Bodhidharma having lived, where he came from, and what he did once he got to China, there are some great, if apocryphal stories associated with him. Right off the bat, he is summoned to meet Emperor Wu, who thinks of himself as a great supporter of Buddhism in China (which had come somewhere around 400 years prior to Bodhidharma’s arrival). Wu tells Bodhidharma about his support for the monks, all the temples he’s been building, the general, “Here pat me on the back, eminent Indian monk, because you should really be impressed by me.” Wu asks how much merit there is in his deeds, Bodhidharma responds with, “No merit whatsoever.” Wu asks Bodhidharma to explain the teachings of the Buddha to him, Bodhidharma replies with, “Vast emptiness, nothing holy.” Perplexed, probably angry with this insolence, Wu asks something along the lines of, “Who do you think you are?!?” Bodhidharma’s reply is, “Don’t know.”

As with many Buddhist teachings, Bodhidharma is inclined to answer questions such as “What is this?” with answers that mark what “this” isn’t. Think there’s a payoff for your good deeds? Don’t count on it. If you do these deeds with the expectation of acquiring something as a result of having done them, the expectation itself cancels out the “merit” the deed might have accrued. You’re still back in the hell realms. The Buddha’s teaching? Nope, not gonna fall into your net, you created it, you wriggle out of it. Who is this? “Indeed, great Emperor, who is this?”

Realizing our True Nature? As easy as surfing across the Yangtze River on a hollow reed. Pacify one’s racing thoughts? Bring them to Bodhidharma, if you can find them. And how badly do you want to study the Great Way with a sage? Would you give your right arm for it? Ask Huike. He has first-hand experience. There is no second-hand.

Click on the title to listen to the Dharma talk, or navigate to:
https://soundcloud.com/onemindzen/bodhidharma-man-myth-legend