Regulars may have noticed that posting on Rusty Ring has become a little haphazard. That's because I've been managing my mother's home hospice for the last two months. Aside from the daily march of tasks, it also includes regular upheavals in routine, resulting in topsy-turvy days and weeks. Since predictable scheduling is the first requirement of blogging, the results are showing up here.
The underlying situation is of course a source of stress, making the actual work a kind of distraction – and therefore a relief – in an ironic way. But once again I'm finding meditation invaluable. As ever, I hesitate to vaunt it too much, as newcomers and interested non-meditators may form inaccurate expectations.
Zazen doesn't fix anything. It doesn't make me care less, and I'm not sure it even makes me fear less.
It just makes me fear better.
If that makes no sense, welcome to Zen.
I have no idea how I survived these things before I became a monk.
Anyway, I'll continue striving to maintain the regular posting schedule, in full knowledge that I'm bound to fail. And I'll concentrate on offering stuff of value when I do, even if it's a line here and a quotation there.
Because one of the sub-vows of my Rule is, "I will do what I can, even if it's unlikely to succeed."
Peace and progress to all seekers.
(Graphic courtesy of Zoltan Tasi and Unsplash.com.)
"When a shepherd goes to kill a wolf, and takes his dog to see the sport, he should take care to avoid mistakes. The dog has certain relationships to the wolf the shepherd may have forgotten."
This line, written by Robert Pirsig in Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance, is incisive; equal to an revolutionary treatise, all by itself.
Reading it again, I'm reminded of several points of insight I've encountered in my past. For example, when I was a history undergrad, one of my professors described how America's white master class had forcibly converted captive Africans to Christianity in an attempt to render them docile and compliant. When, he said, the preacher fetched up against the many accounts of enslavement in Jewish scripture – accounts which rarely or never present it in a Godly light – he assured his enslaved congregation that those passages didn't mean what they seemed to mean; that they couldn't possibly understand such esoteric teachings.
"Of course, " said Dr. Francis, "this was complete nonsense. Those people knew full well what those Old Testament writers were talking about."
Later I encountered bitter capitalist denunciation of syndicalism. "Unions don't belong in The System!" they pouted. "They want to overthrow the free market!" Communism / socialism / atheism / totalitarianism / repression-depression-recession, fa-la-la-la-la.
But we lumpen learned unionism from capitalists. We implicitly understand such notions as monopoly, cornered markets, object value, possession, and the ethical justifications for acting in one's own interest, other considerations be damned. That the boss wants to kill this wolf is understandable. That he believes we've forgotten who the wolf is, is demeaning at best.
And then, of course, there's Bodhidharma. He said, "Just sit."
Literally.
That's his whole teaching.
All of it.
But in the fifteen-odd centuries since he said it, all manner of fa-la-la-la-la (or bup-po-so-en-jo-raku-ga-jo) has accrued on that small, inornate pedestal. Which was predictable; as I've quoted elsewhere, "Meditation is simple. That is why it so easily becomes complicated." You have to expect that, and accept it, and I do.
So now Zen has become a large corporate entity, complete with the usual demand for compliance, deference, and obedience, which has at length led to full-circle condemnation of Bodhidharma in some quarters. Or at least of others of his nation.
"You can't," we're assured, "possibly understand such complex, esoteric teachings."
And yet I meet more and more sheepdogs who smile and bow when we pass.
Brothers and sisters who know full well what the Old Man was talking about.
(Photo courtesy of Elxan Ehsan oğlu Qəniyev and Wikimedia Commons.)
The custodian of a large synagogue approached the rabbi one day and said, "Rabbi, I'm at wit's end. The temple is infested with mice and no matter what I do I can't get rid of them!"
"Ah," said the rabbi, "that one is easy. You go into town and you buy as many tiny little yarmulkes as you can find. You put one on each mouse, and you bar mitzvah him."
"You will never see those mice in the temple again."
Wu Ya's commentary: "Pest control."
(Photo courtesy of Wikimedia Commons and a generous photographer.)
"If my Zen only works at the monastery or at the temple, my Zen sucks."
Jay Rinsen Weik
(Photo courtesy of Wikimedia Commons and a generous photographer.)
(Made this one for a local bike path, using some hardware I got from a shop in town.)
Appearing also on My Corner of the World.
But that's not the only Zen the article contains; another favourite moment relates to the 8 Worldly Dharmas, on which I posted this past August.
In Jason's words, human behaviour is ultimately directed by two desires:
1) The person you desperately want to be.
2) The person you desperately want to avoid becoming.
So that's 8WD all over again. It's also conventional Buddhism à la Thich Nhat Hanh, who emphasises the notion of mental "seeds", or impulses that arise in the mind and either get "watered" (i.e., indulged or praised) or "not watered" (left to languish).
Thich Nhat Hanh suggests we be mindful of these seeds – which exist unremarked in our minds till they sprout as actions, or even habits – and make conscious decisions to water or not water them.
And that's highly effective practice. However, I think Jason's insight – that those seeds come from somewhere too, and knowing where is important – is a necessary second level.
That thing you want – what do you think you'll accomplish with it?
That button that gets pushed – what is that wired to?
That insult that enrages you – why do you care?
That compliment you received – why does that please you? (And how about that other compliment, that leaves you unmoved – or even discomfits you. What's up with that?)
Those positive feelings that arise in a given event – what do you imagine you've accomplished?
That thing you do in a given situation - what are you trying to become, or not become, when you do that?
In Jason's terms, when you feel seeds begin to swell, you should ask yourself, "What do I want to be that's manipulating me to do/say/be this thing?", or "What do I not want to be that's manipulating me to do/say/be this thing?"
I like Jason's perspective, because it goes to the bedrock of delusion. Creating ourselves in this ephemeral world is a lot of what we do here.
If we can give that up – or at least leash it – we stand a chance of getting off this carousel.
(Photo courtesy of Unsplash.com and a generous photographer.)
