Responsiblity Kyôsaku

Thou shalt not follow a multitude to do evil.
Exodus 23:2


(Photo of Fudo Myō-ō statue courtesy of Wikimedia Commons and a generous photographer.)

The Mountain Kyôsaku

"Although we say mountains belong to the country, actually, they belong to those that love them."

Dōgen

Effort Kyôsaku

"Never do today what you can put off till tomorrow, because you might die tonight."

Ajahn Brahm


(Photo of reclining Hotei courtesy of Wikimedia Commons and a generous photographer.)

Religion Kyôsaku

"Don't try to use what you learn from Buddhism to be a Buddhist; use it to be a better whatever-you-already-are."

His Holiness the 14th Dalai Lama


(Photo courtesy of Jordan McQueen and Unsplash.com.)

Vengence Kyôsaku

"Do not repay anyone evil for evil." Romans 12:17

– a tighter restatement of my own earlier effort.

(Photo courtesy of Widodo Margotomo and Wikimedia Commons.)

Anitya Kyôsaku

Forget your perfect offering
There's a crack, a crack in everything
That's how the light gets in

Leonard Cohen,
Zen hermit monk


(Photo courtesy of Dean Hochman and Wikimedia Commons.)

Indecision Kyôsaku

"Most questions are the answer."

Genjo Marinello Osho
Choboji


(Photo courtesy of Unsplash.com and a generous photographer.)

Practice Kyôsaku

"I don't seek to follow in the footsteps of men of old... rather, I seek the things they sought."

Matsuo Bashō






(Photo courtesy of Rawpixel.com.)

Advaya Kyôsaku

"You’re just another version of me. That’s why I can’t take you that seriously."

Brad Warner


(Bairei Kōno's take on 鴉烏 courtesy of Rawpixel.com.)

Discursive Mind Kyôsaku

"We mustn’t forget that today’s science and culture have only developed out of the lowest levels of consciousness."

Sawaki Kōdō


(Photo of lotus pond in the Singpore ArtScience Museum courtesy of Dietmar Rabich and Wikimedia Commons.)

Interdependence Kyôsaku

"The flower and the wind are old friends."

Bill Porter (Red Pine)


(Photo courtesy of Nico Westerhof and Wikimedia Commons.)

Responsibility Kyôsaku

"Do not emulate others' wrongdoing. See to your own virtue."

Dōgen

(Photo courtesy of Jay Castor and Unsplash.com.)

Ten Years And Counting

This month past brought Rusty Ring into its tenth year of publication, not counting the four-odd months that I sat ango. This blog has become so integral to my monastic practice that I didn't even notice that an anniversary had passed until this week.

There's an ancient Zen commandment that monks keep a journal of their lives and activities, and that such records should be accessible to all in order to support others' enlightenment practices, present and future. Rusty Ring, and the regular posting schedule that I imposed on myself from the beginning, with the resulting pressure for material, quickly filled that gap in my monastic programme.

And then it added something else as well: sangha. As I've mentioned before, the third is the hardest Treasure for hermits to acquire, and the lack most keenly felt. In the case of Rusty Ring, just the blog itself, absent of readers, is already sangha; somebody for me to talk to. That it's also attracted a modest but loyal cadre of regulars, with similarly serendipitous stop-ins from visitors all over the world, provides a cogent counterpoise to my monk game.

And so I feel like this is the moment to let a small but significant cat out of the bag: that this is in fact an actual primordial 'blog. That is, in the original intent of the medium – by its full name, a weblog – it's a personal thought journal, with the appended late-90s enhancement that others can read it too if they wish.

Thus, all of the posts here are messages to me. Reminders, for the most part, practical and philosophical.

To lift my spirits and strengthen my resolve.

To summon the kyôsaku when I start sloughing off.

The recipes posted, I refer to while cooking.

The sesshin and practice points I consult while organising my own.

And crucially, the moral and political exhortations that frequently appear here are all addressed to me.

Spoiler alert.

Not quite The Sixth Sense, but there may be a touch of O. Henry in that revelation for some, all the same.

Any road, I hope the reflections that I share here – or at least make available – or at least don't hide – are useful to those who must, with increasing difficulty, dig them out. (I have got to move to a better host!)

Your company and contributions have been invaluable, and I'm deeply grateful for your influence on my life and practice.

In pleasant anticipation of the years to come, I remain,

Your obedient servant.

Real-World Kyôsaku

"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.)

Practice Kyôsaku

"Zen is not found in the understanding, it's found in the doing of it."

Gil Fronsdal

(Photo courtesy of Wikimedia Commons and a generous photographer.)

Walden Kyôsaku

"The greater part of what my neighbours call good I believe in my soul to be bad, and if I repent of anything, it is very likely to be my good behaviour."

Henry David Thoreau


(Early 1900s postcard of the cairn marking the site of Thoreau's cabin on the shores of Walden Pond courtesy of the Newberry Library and Wikimedia Commons.)

The Toolbox Fallacy

"I can't do X until I have Y."

That's the fundamental delusion, according to Ian Martin. Essentially, he suggests, we tend to get wrapped up in the notion that we have to have certain tools before we can do certain stuff. Some of them are literal, others figurative, but eventually the lack of them – perceived or factual – becomes an excuse to allow our aspirations to remain unpursued.

I stumbled over Ian's kyôsaku in the course of an unrelated surf, and clicked on it because it was only 7 minutes long. The message hit me hard, both as a writer and a monk. In both cases I've been grappling with lost momentum, and Ian's whack on the shoulder had just the right snap.

Not that I was entirely ignorant of this truth. In Zen we toolbox the crap out of each other. Gotta have a sangha, a centre, a master. Gotta have a quiet setting, or a sit-friendly schedule, or the proper zafu, or…

I sussed that trap early on, and took the hermit path around it. But I haven't completely set such fears aside. Especially in times when I can't maintain regular sitting. Then I tend to drop it entirely until conditions coöperate.

But the fact is, I can meditate wherever, whenever.

Will it always equal ideal zazen? Perhaps not. Is that failure?

No.

And actually, it's just this kind of thing that's often yielded the greatest results. Harder than controlled-environment sitting, sure. But you know what else is out of control?

The entire universe beyond my few square controlled feet.

If you can't practice out there, you're a prisoner. That's why they call 'em "cells".

But one thing Ian doesn't mention is that failure isn't the sole fear. There's also the scorn of others. And that scorn is inevitable.

I watch a lot of indie films. Really indie films. You know, the kind that are financed by friends and family and made in the director's parents' garage. Many are terrific. But you wouldn't know it from some of the IMDb "reviews".

It's astonishing how much people who've never canned a damn minute in their lives know about making movies.

In a similar vein, some folks get all Old Testament on my backside when they hear I practice alone. I even catch accusations of fraud. (Dude. I said I practice alone. I didn't order you to.)

My point is, if you pursue your ambitions without the toolbox, you'll be scorned down to your waraji. Behind your back and in front of your back and all around your back.

Because holy crap it offends some people when their expectations aren't validated.

And those same people tend to be cocksure and outspoken. Somewhere in there is insight, I feel sure of it...

Anyway.

What I want to append to Ian's excellent wake-up call is simply this: Whiners gonna whine. I need to remember that.

Because others will definitely sneer. At my writing career; my monastic practice; the fallibility of my nature and judgement; the new workbench I just built.

And except for that last one, they lack authority. (Shop-types smirk. I'll have to give them this one.)

So I'm with Ian. If you don't have a chainsaw, use a hatchet. But chop that wood.

(Photo courtesy of Unsplash.com and a generous photographer.)

The Lemon Koan

"When life gives you lemons, you are mistaken."

Ummon (probably)

(See the Blue Cliff Record, Case 6, and the provocative commentary that follows it. Courtesy of William Nyogen Yeo and Hazy Moon Zen Center/Koun-Ji Temple, Los Angeles.)



Photo courtesy of Scott Bauer, the Agricultural Research Service of the US Department of Agriculture, and Wikimedia Commons.

Ego Kyôsaku

"The biggest ego-trip going is getting rid of your ego."

Alan Watts




(Photo courtesy of the Metropolitan Museum of Art and Wikimedia Commons.)

Compassion Kyôsaku

"[Kitano] was thin and not in good health, but Shunryu was mesmerised by the way he would lay out his bowing cloth and lower himself to place his forehead on it, and above all by the way he would rise up again. He was so frail that every time he bowed Shunryu thought he wouldn't be able to get up, but he did, time after time.

"Eventually Shunryu realised that it was harder for him to watch Kitano bow than it was for Kitano to do so."

David Chadwick, Crooked Cucumber



(Photo of Avalokiteśvara Bodhisattva statue in Bodhisattva garden of Truc Lam Tri Duc Zen Monastery courtesy of Wikimedia Commons and a generous photographer.)