Crossing Nebraska

  “I have never said to my disciples that I am a true teacher. From the beginning I have said that the zazen each of us practices is the only true teacher.”   Kosho Uchiyama   But what about the Buddha himself? Was he not a true teacher in Uchiyama’s estimation? No doubt some would call it sacrilege to answer in the negative. There exists a story in which the Buddha’s entire sermon consists of him holding up a flower. One of his disciples, Mahakasyapa, is the only one who “gets it” – conveying his understanding with a smile. Many Buddhists believe that something passed from the Buddha to Mahakasyapa in that moment. But might it be that Mahakasyapa merely conveyed to the Buddha that his own zazen (seated meditation) had taught him what the Buddha had already realized? Perhaps the Buddha merely led Mahakasyapa to his own true teacher – his zazen – and Mahakasyapa proved to be a student worthy of its teaching.   Let’s get our heads out of the clouds for just a m...

The commencement of any solitary creative endeavor is an act of faith. Depending upon our area of interest, we sit down with our notebooks or in front of our computers, we reflect upon the materials available to us, or we gaze upon our subject while sitting in front of a fresh white canvas. And as we do we have faith that something will materialize: a poem, a manuscript, a sculpture, a painting, etc. I’m steeped in such faith as I write these words, having promised the world in my last post that I’d have something meaningful to say under the title “Beyond Faith and Reason” -- without my having written a single word on the subject up until now! In addition to faith, the creative process requires at least a modicum of reason and objectivity. The writing process especially requires a great deal of time spent in rational reflection on the work in progress: Have I made any spelling or grammatical mistakes? Is that the most appropriate word to use in this instance? Have I made my point ...

Not too long ago, the post that I’ll refer to here as A Defense of Ritual brought to a close a three-part exploration of what I termed ‘the dichotomy between universality and ritual,’ i.e., the dichotomy between the universal practice of zazen (seated meditation) and those idiosyncratic rituals that, directly or indirectly and to varying degrees, support it. Regular readers will recall that I used the chanting of the Three Refuges as an example. I noted then that, while the act of reciting “I take refuge in the Buddha... I take refuge in the Dharma... I take refuge in the Sangha...” might have everything to do with the practice of Buddhism, it simply does not rise to the level of universality. What it does do, however, is provide a philosophical context for the universal practice of zazen – context that many practitioners require in order to feel grounded in their sitting practice. The reason for revisiting this ostensibly closed exploration of the dichotomy between universali...

universal : “[I]ncluding or covering all or a whole collectively or distributively without limit or exception… [E]xistent or operative everywhere or under all conditions...” Merriam-Webster ritual : “[A]ccording to religious law… social custom or normal protocol.” Merriam-Webster   I step into the doorway of my meditation room, press my palms together and bow. Then, cupping my left hand with my right, I walk over to the altar against the opposite wall and bow once again before it. To the right, the candle and the incense burner sit ready to accept my respective offerings. To the left, one ceramic bowl half full of water reflects the dim light of the room, and another cradles a single heart-shaped piece of polished stone. In the middle, the Buddha statue resting on its wooden pedestal serenely oversees its domain. A shelf beneath the altar holds a book of matches, a box of incense, and various other bells and containers. I light the candle and extinguish the match with ...

Stillness, silence, truth – just like the words to that Beatles song: “These are words that go together well, my Michelle.” Stillness, silence, truth – I knew the first two as a child and completely took the third for granted. After all, we need not have a word for air in order to breathe it deeply so that it may become us. Stillness, silence, truth – this was what I spoke of in Returning To The Source . The Buddha innately knew it as a child, and so did I. (And I suspect that you did, too.) No…, it is not so much a matter of knowing it as being it – stillness, silence, truth. It is what the Buddha returned to after a long and arduous search, and it is what I now return to (albeit, with varying degrees of clarity) each time I sit zazen – stillness, silence, truth.     A spider actualizes his understanding of Indra's Net     “Zazen is the most venerable and only true teacher.”   This was the second of seven points of practice laid ou...

Most people, I suspect, need no convincing regarding the potentially meditative qualities of walking. We discover them easily enough on our own just as soon as we’re old enough to take our first long and solitary stroll. We come to realize quite naturally that the repetitive rhythm of breath and step has a way of inducing stillness of mind, deep contemplation, and an appreciation of the present moment.  Labyrinth walking at Chartes Cathedral, France    Notwithstanding the fact that the meditative qualities of walking arise quite spontaneously, many practices have arisen that either utilize those qualities or serve to deepen them. We might refer to these practices as forms of walking meditation in order to differentiate them from the much more informal practice of “going for a walk.” Perhaps some readers are already familiar with the benefits of walking meditation after having been introduced to it via the teachings of Thich Nhat Hanh, for T. N. Hanh & A. H....