Playing Dress Up

When I first wandered into Zen Center a little more than a year ago, the robes really took me by surprise. It's not clear what I was expecting, maybe jeans and black shirts? It really was a bit of a shock, and while it's the most obvious example of emulating Japanese dress and culture around here it's only the tip of the iceberg.

Beside the surprise there was some mild aversion: surely the transmission of the subtle secret of Zen doesn't require us to play dress up! I mean really, aren't we passed that? What's wrong with some jeans and a nice button up shirt? Why are all these people wearing those funny looking bibs? And that was at City Center.

Dogen's Temple of Eternal Peace Miniature Play Set

If walking into City Center was a surprise, going up to Green Gulch for the first time was a bit of a shock. If City Center is the shallow end of the pool and Tassajara the deep end, Green Gulch is the middle end. There are a number of long term residents, mostly with families, and a fresh batch of farm and garden interns shows up every few months. Reb keeps his residence there and there are priests in training, making it a monastery as well as an organic farm and retreat center. Many more people wear robes more of the time, the buildings are fashioned in Japanese style, the landscaping is heavy on standing rocks and asian trees. It's basically a full time re-inactment of a Kamakura Period Zen monastery.

There's just one small difference: nearly everyone is caucasian. And while the robes annoyed me a little the paucity of Japanese teachers was genuinely difficult to accept. Surely the transmission of the subtle secret of Zen requires Japanese masters! I really had a hard time getting past it at first and not having done my research ahead of time it was a bit of a surprise.

Suzuki Roshi died in 1971, more than 30 years ago, Katagiri Roshi left to establish the Minnesota Zen Center 1972 and Kobun Chino had moved on to establish Haiku Zen Center in Los Altos in 1970, leaving San Francisco under the abbacy of Richard Baker. The inmates have been running the asylum for a while now.

Theatro Zendo

It was clear to me after my first one-day that what goes on in the zendo is a bit of a play. Ceremonies are scripted actions, the priests and students act out a piece called 'morning meditation' nearly every day of the year. With proscribed roles, scripts handed out for chanting, and some nice soliloquies from the teachers during the day it's hard not to see the place as a theater. The zendo is the stage, the liturgy is the script, ceremonies involve lots of blocking and practice beforehand, we are all just players in the great drama of dharma.

In this light, costuming is just part of setting the stage, no different than building the zendo on the pattern of a Japanese or Chinese meditation hall. It's perfectly natural to want to look the part, it helps to reinforce what is is you're up to, it's a constant reminder to stay in character as a bodhisattva. It shapes identity, one of the reasons we get so attached to the clothes we wear is that they are selected to reinforce and project our ideas of who we are.

Of course, the whole point of Zen is to come to the realization that there is no 'self' or 'other'. So how do we reconcile this? Why build the zendos and wear the robes if zen is about realizing the emptiness of forms? Dogen answers the question in the opening of the Fukanzazengi:

What need is there for concentrated effort? Indeed, the whole body is far beyond the world's dust. Who could believe in a means to brush it clean? It is never apart from one, right where one is. What is the use of going off here and there to practice?

And yet, if there is the slightest discrepancy, the way is as distant as heaven from earth. If the least like or dislike arises, the mind is lost in confusion.

For Dogen, concentrated effort was just sitting zazen, the rest of monastery operations were simply the norms of the time. Modern practitioners are committed to the task of recreating the environment of the founder as well as they can in the modern world. Both to help themselves better understand the mind of Dogen and to provide good conditions for the creation of Buddhas. It's not a reenactment, but part of a continuous daily performance of the exact same play, transmitted down through the Soto lineage and brought over by Suzuzki, Katagiri and Chino Roshis.

But the forms are emptiness, paying them out produces no merit on it's own. It's the wholehearted engagement that makes for a good play, you have to suspend belief for a moment to really get to the heart of the moment, forgetting yourself for a moment and engaging in the practice. Theater allows us to see ourselves in a completely different light, and Zen exploits that human trait to help guide people. Follow the schedule completely, and you'll find that over time, as you practice the role, it becomes easier and easier to play it out in everyday life.

A Cosplay Experiment

Remember back when I got Yoga Pants? There was some resistance, and as the year has stretched out since then the resistance became a sort of dismissive amusement; "Aren't they cute in their fancy robes." Clearly I had to do something… So I bought myself some tabi, which was a good start. Tabi aren't worn much around here except by the priests and in the tea house. Wearing them with those yoga pants and my usual button up shirt was a bit of a contrast, but you know what? My feet were much warmer when sitting, and I found them to very comfortable to wear around the house.

The same shopping trip was actually intended to get Kimono for my daughter and her friend, we organized a children's tea ceremony for a few of the kids and wanted to dress them up appropriately, but it was also my first step into the world of Zen dress up. The girls looked cute and the ceremony (we served cocoa instead of tea) was a lot of fun for them:



A Tale of Three Contexts

Uniforms are a powerful thing, we associate them with authority and control. Judges wear black robes to project an air of authority, police, fire fighters, military personnel all have recognizable, distinct, uniform styles which quickly communicate their role both to outsiders as well as within the group via more subtle signals such as insignia. Sales of these items are often restricted and it's a crime in most jurisdictions to impersonate an officer.

Thankfully no such restrictions are applied to the traditional Japanese garments worn around casually by some residents. Turns out, you can just go over to Japan Town and pick them up, even in gaijin sizes. One day I finally buckled, Lilly and I were shopping for a new parasol and fan to replace the last two, which had been over-loved a little. There it was, hanging in a rack of various cotton Kimono and other Japanese style garments: the blue jacket and pants combo, in XL. It fit perfectly.

The next day was the first Sunday of the month, Children's Program. Naturally I wanted to show off my new outfit, join in on the re-enactment a little bit, Lilly in her kimono and me in my new Sunday best. I got about what I expected from the residents, more than a few knowing smiles, you can almost hear them thinking, "we got him." What I wasn't expecting was the reaction of outsiders, especially with the addition of the name badge we wear as Children's Program volunteers. Several times during the day people asked me for directions or had questions about Green Gulch, parents asked what we were doing with the kids today: I clearly looked like I knew what I was doing.

The following Saturday I got dressed up again and went to City Center early for Zazen, service, and breakfast. I haven't been around City Center for a few months and there were a number of new faces. I'd also forgotten that there are many fewer people wearing the traditional clothing, the priests are still in robes but I actually felt a bit out of place. Getting in and out of the Buddha hall for service has a very specific form that I've never completely understood, people expect that you know what your doing when you wear the uniform, so I got a couple of corrective glances getting in and out that I probably would have been spared if I was in my usual outfit.

Worse, I started to think I was an authority. During breakfast I started whispering a detail about the serving form to a neighbor, who quickly cut me off. You might think I would have known better but there it was, the impulse to correct someone, or help them, caused me to break the silence and disturb their breakfast.

The next day was a special event in Japan Town, kimono day. There were a number of events and a few people, mostly women, dressed in traditional Japanese dress, mostly kimono. Only a few of us gaijin were brave enough to go wandering around in consume. I got a few funny looks from the maiko in formal dress, chatted with my favorite antiques dealer, had some ramen and went home feeling a little silly but having enjoyed myself.

Once I got home I didn't immediately change into my usual clothes. I stayed in costume, started cleaning up and getting ready for a week with Lilly. I was still playing dress up, not for an audience or to express authority, but to remind myself how I want to behave. To wrap myself in the teachings of Suzuki Roshi and of Dogen Sama and Bodhidharma and the Original Buddha.

Great robe of liberation
Field far beyond form and emptiness
Wearing the Tathagata’s teaching
Saving all beings.

I ⼼ Oryoki

Eating Oryoki has become one of my favorite parts of practice, so I got up early this morning and went down to City Center for the early morning sit, service and breakfast served in the Zendo. When I got there, just before the 6:30 AM sitting, there was a line of people doing slow walking meditation in the Gaitan and the Zendo looked crowded from what I could see looking down the hallway. I ended up in an awkward spot when the clackers signaling the end of Kinhin sounded, but managed to get a spot in the Zendo on the floor at the Ino's direction.
People were being particularly quiet after Zazen, we went upstairs for service in the Buddha Hall. The hall was almost full when I got in, and I picked a spot in the front row because I couldn't see another one on the tatami. The new Tanto came over and kindly pointed out I was in the spot that the priest would take when they arrived. Whoops. Coming out of service I noticed the seat assignment board and housing assignment sheet typical of a One Day Sitting, which means it's silent in the building for the day.
I was at the end of the Soji line and all the good jobs (meaning toilets) were taken so I helped setup the Buddha Hall for the public lecture, which mostly consists of moving chairs from the dining room to the hall and lining them up at the edge of the tatami and along the walls. During Soji there was a minor incursion, two men, separately, walked in the open front door and sat down on a bench in the hallway. I was walking into the dining room to get more chairs and the Guest Student Manager (that's the job title on the farm at least, it might be slightly different at City Center) asked me to go close the front door, on my way to go do that I noticed one of the residents taking up station at the door just across from the bench. The situation was clearly under control so I continued to help setup the Buddha Hall and went down for breakfast when the gong was struck to indicate the end of the cleaning period.
I hate to jump to conclusions but it wouldn't suppress me if one or both of the men who walked in were homeless, in any case they were sitting quietly and not being disruptive, and given the Zen Center's history of doing homeless outreach and general concern for the welfare of everyone I'm confident the situation was handled very gently and skillfully. Considering the potential for bit of a scene I'm glad it happened after everyone was down in the Zendo for breakfast.
The Oryoki Weight Loss Plan
Oryoki has been a great practice for me because I have some food issues. Like an alarming number of people I'm carrying around some extra pounds, which I'm looking to lose sooner than later. The very word 'Oryoki' (オリヨキ or 応量器) means something like "just enough in the bowl", so portion control is built into the program. Reading my initial post on the process you can see that I've been fascinated by the form for a while, it's the most complex of the Zendo forms, and the one in which a mistake can be dramatic: hot water being poured from bowl to bowl, the occasional setsu hitting the floor, ceramic bowls which shatter if dropped from the narrow edge of the ton. It turns breakfast, lunch and to a lesser extent dinner (which has an abbreviated, two bowl form) into a bit of a performance, and in that performance my relationship to food has profoundly changed.
First, Set the table. Before eating the bowls are set out and the implements prepared for eating. The unpacking process is a little complicated, to the point where I took a series of photographs depicting the process. Packing it back up is a simple matter of unpacking in reverse, and looking at the full priests set of five bowls (instead of the student set of three) and an additional bowl stand and placemat you start to get a feel for the care that can be taken in setting out your table:

Buddha was born in Kapilavastu,Enlightened in Magadha,Taught in Varanasi,Entered nirvana in Kushinagara.Now we set out Buddha's bowls.May we, with all beings,Realize the emptiness of the three wheels: Giver, receiver, and gift.

Second, Wait to eat. The food is served in succession, one item at a time. The Abbot is first in line, then their Jika, then so on along the ton, where people are typically seated in order of seniority. Only when everyone has been served all three dishes does the meal begin, as a result you have to sit with your food for some time before eating. I can smell the food, notice my body beginning to prepare for it: saliva starts to flow, the stomach starts to rumble, peristalsis starts up and my belly gurgles, a little insulin flows out of my pancreas immediately dropping my blood sugar to almost nothing, hunger intensifies. But I have to wait to eat, and just sit there and feel my body getting hungry for a few minutes, don't react, just feel the hunger and the desire to eat. Just sit with it for a few minutes, then, before eating we chant the Verse of Five Contemplations:

We reflect on the effort that brought us this food and consider how it comes to us.We reflect on our virtue and practice, and whether we are worthy of this offeringWe regard it as essential to keep the mind free from excesses such as greed.We regard this food as good medicine to sustain our life.For the sake of enlightenment we now receive this food.

Third, Consider why I'm eating. "We regard this food as good medicine to sustain our life", i.e. it's not entertainment, it's not pleasure, it's what we need to continue our lives, as much as possible we should make that just enough. The food that's served reflects that, simple, hearty and never spicy. Rice or porridge in the first bowl, which you may season with gamasho only. Soup, fruit or pudding in the second bowl, and something delightful in the third, often roasted nuts or a small salad. Once all the good medicine is served, we chant the bowl raising verse:

First, this is for the three treasures.
Next, for the four benefactors.
Finally, for the beings in the six realms.
May all be equally nourished.

Finally, I think of our visitors from earlier. They have wandered into this place looking for nourishment, I hope they got some, and in reflecting can only think of what a great gift it is in life to have more food that you need, and what a waste it is to over-eat when others are hungry and have no roof over their head. Oryoki gives me the time and permission to think about all these things, how and when I eat instead of unconsciously stuffing myself with whatever I can get my hands on.
An Oryoki Disaster
The silence of the One Day Sitting makes the Saturday public program a a little subdued, the Zendo gets crowded when people come in for the 9:25 period of Zazen, and they won't serve lunch today so I decided to leave after breakfast. I ran into a friend on the way out and had a lovely chat while I snacked on a rather large apricot with some less than perfect spots on it, they went in for the sit and I sat for a while finishing my fruit. It would have been nice to hear Paul's talk, but the smile I got when he came back in for Zazen was enough.
I headed home to do some soji around the house (finally, a toilet to clean!) After parking, walking back from the car with my hands full, the unthinkable happened:

everything in impermanent

Time to get that fancy five bowl set, I guess…

Advice for Beginners

This past Friday and Saturday I went back to City Center after a long hiatus. How long? Well I was surprised to see that it's been almost three months since the last time I was there.

A Memorial

Friday I went to attend the memorial service for Steve Jobs. I've had the privilege of working for Steve for a few years now and have been a fan for a long time so the news was particularly difficult, and added to the loss of one of my grandmothers the day before it made for a somber week. Driving down to Cupertino on Friday was pretty emotional and as I offered incense in front of a small picture of Steve that evening it was hard not to break down and just start sobbing. I left immediately after the service, though, and didn't stay for dinner. So while I got back into the building my aversion is still in play.

A Come to Buddha Moment

Saturday I went to attend the morning Zazen and lecture, though I missed the early sit, service and oryoki breakfast because I was up late the night before. After the talk Nancy, our Membership & Alumni Manager asked me to say a few words about why I signed up as a member. It was an emotional moment at the end of an emotional week and I didn't want to go on too long and ramble so I made just two brief points:

First, what goes on at Zen Center in the city and Green Gulch on Saturday and Sunday mornings are just the tip of the iceberg, there are so many diverse and interesting programs on offer around Zen Center that it's hard to imagine anyone who wouldn't find something of interest. If you're new to Zen Center there's a lot to learn and many opportunities to do so.

Secondly, the practice of sitting meditation is difficult. It's physically demanding and can be emotionally challenging. I struggled for years with my personal practice and only in the last ten months of being involved with the Zen Center have I been able to get beyond 20-30 minutes sits a few times a week. Zazen is a team sport, and having the support of a community is essential to making real progress. I have immense gratitude for the care and support of the community I've received.

To expand on what I said Saturday, here is specific advice to beginners at Zen Center, taken from my personal experience over the last ten months of involvement:

Advice for First Timers

Come back. I've seen a lot of people come and go from the weekly meditation introduction, this is to be expected, the practice of Zen isn't for everybody. But if you find that the introduction whets your appetite then come back and sit as much as you can, there's a lot more to Zen than sitting but everything revolves around that. Suzuki Roshi, when confronted with a new student full of questions and problems that they wanted solved by a Zen master would give the same advice in pretty much every instance: "Come back at 5AM and sit Zazen with us."

The advice seems odd, we have problems and want to find solutions, want to know what action to take to resolve them. Being told to sit down and do nothing, well, it's a real challenge to the way we've learned to deal with the world. Don't try to fix anything, just sit and accept it as it is. This is the heart of the practice, and for beginning students the most important thing is just to start the process, which means sitting as much as you can.

Advice for Returning Beginners

So, you came back, great, good to see you again. Now it's time to get to know the community a bit, this will be important for the next step, when you'll find that having a support network built up is pretty much essential. There are many opportunities to interact with the residents and members of Zen Center, volunteer, spend a week at Green Gulch as a guest retreatant (I don't recommend signing up as a guest student just yet), take a class or attend a workshop that looks interesting.

The idea here is to get to know some of the residents and regulars, build some relationships and prepare yourself for your first one-day or half-day sitting. I spend a lot of time volunteering for the children's program and hanging out with other Zen Center parents, for e.g. Showing up for early sittings, service and soji is another good way to meet people, though you may end up scrubbing a few toilets in the process.

To Join or Not to Join

Now comes the big moment, do you want to become a member? I joined on Buddha's Birthday this year, before my first One Day Sitting, and honestly I don't recommend it. Not that I regret it in any way but the full day of sitting is a good test to see if you're really into the practice. Some people have a very hard time with the forms, some people are really attracted to them, it pays to find out which camp you're in before signing up. If the forms aren't for you, there's a number of vipassana meditation centers around the Bay Area (I personally find that Vipassana is too secularized, but a lot of people like it for that reason).

If you find that the One Day sit is tolerable and if you notice that the world seems like a quieter place the  next day you might feel compelled to come back. If that's the case then signing up a a member makes a lot of sense, you'll be supporting an amazing community of dedicated people who will do everything they can to support you in our practice. You are basically supporting yourself by giving back to the community and I think you'll find the rewards are worth much, much more than the discounts and newsletters.

Great Faith and Great Courage

When I did my first one day sit, which seems like forever ago, the talk was something about having Great Faith and Great Something, can't quite remember what. I'm gonna go with Courage:

After having a rough day on Saturday I went up to the farm for the Sunday program and signed up for the Seven Day Sesshin with Reb Anderson. What could possibly go wrong?

Taking Refuge in the Sanga

I take refuge in the Buddha

I take refuge in the Dharma

I take refuge in the Sanga

I could write a whole article about the refuges, but here's the important thing: since coming back from Green Gulch for the week I've gotten up every morning and done at least three full prostrations while reciting them, usually nine. Even if I don't have time or won't make time to sit I do the bows every morning before leaving the house, religiously, if you will.

So, in light of my breakdown on Saturday and Shundo's very sweet response I wanted to write something about the critical importance of the Sanga to deepening practice.

Serious meditation practice is difficult, facing the wall you are left to face yourself, and that's hard practice on it's own. Sidhartha achieved enlightenment after sitting under a tree by himself for eight days, this after years of studying with various gurus and attempting different practices. But it's what he did afterwards that makes Buddhism what it is: he created a community of monks and dedicated the rest of his life to transmitting what he discovered and forming the sanga which carries on to this day, now diversified into myriad schools which vary in the details of their methods but all with a singular goal: to free humanity from suffering.

The first two refuges speak to the achievement and the compassion of the Buddha, the attainment of enlightenment and the desire to share it with the world. But the third is maybe the most important. Enlightenment is all well and good but the real challenge of human existence is maintaing that feeling of connectedness in the face of all the suffering that exists in the world and in relating to other people. You can't really learn about who you are without other people around to bump into, to come into conflict with, to challenge your equanimity and composure, to trigger your desires and obsessions, to get under your skin in ways you didn't know someone else could do.

At the same time, the practice is so challenging and at times difficult that it takes a singular person to achieve the goal on their own, which is why having the support of a community around you is critical. I practiced meditation for years on my own and have read all kinds of dharma but without the encouragement of a community that's also engaged n the same practice it's hard to make real progress, especially if you can't remove yourself from the world to sit and contemplate your life.

How is your meditation today?

So, Saturday when I said there was no Zazen for me I wasn't being quite accurate: there wasn't any Zazen until I went and sat in the hall. I had been floating all day at the surface of that ocean of suffering, bobbing about, uncomfortable, maybe a little seasick. As much as it stung in the moment to be asked to go sit outside it was a great gift to be thrown off the raft, to jump into the first noble truth and be immersed in it.

I couldn't do that in the Zendo, my concern for maintaing the form and my own composure wouldn't allow me to really be there with the suffering under the surface, my attachment to the forms had become a fetter and were holding me back from seeing the reality of myself: the insecurity, the loneliness, the feelings of inadequacy, the seemingly endless failures of everyday life, struggling with being a single parent, my obsessive attachments, feelings of rejection, worthlessness, embarrassment and remorse. All that's in there, and ignoring it doesn't make it go away, only facing it and learning to abide with it will bring it to an end, and to do that you need the compassion and kindness of your fellow travelers.

Most descriptions I've seen of the use of the Keisaku involve a sort of disclaimer: it doesn't really hurt and the administration of the stick is really an act of compassion for the meditator who's having trouble centering themselves. Sure it stings, but it releases the shoulder muscles and focuses the attention in a way that is hard to replicate with words. As much as it hurt me in the moment to be asked to leave it was in fact an act of great compassion, I was given permission to go out and really be with myself for a few minutes, a chance to cut through my own defenses and spend some time with feelings that I almost never allow myself to admit to, because it's uncomfortable to sit and face that kind of suffering.

After having a couple of days to think it over, to feel it out, I'm deeply grateful for the opportunity to learn something critically important about myself: that I can sit in the midst of my pain and come out the other side in one piece. It's gifts like these that make the Sanga such a critical component of awakening, they are there to guide you, to support you and to push you forward even when it's not immediately apparent thats what's really going on.

 

Go Sit in the Hall

"Peculiar travel suggestions are dancing lesions from God"

- Kurt Vonnegut

So, there I was Thursday at work, killing some time reading the Ino's Blog and I notice that there's a one-day sitting on Saturday. Well, I was planning on going for the early sit and service before the lecture anyway so why not make a day of it? Registration deadline was Wednesday, but I figured it was worth a quick call to the office to see if they had space, and I lucked out.

I Suck at Soji

I had the day off work Friday for a couple of appointments, so I got up at first bell and drove down to City Center for the Full Moon Ceremony. It was my first and I'm going to write up a longer article with some details but I got there just before the ceremony, sat for a few minutes in the Gaitan, which is the hallway leading into the Zendo where you sit if you arrive after the Zendo is closed or if you have to leave a sitting early, so your coming and going won't interrupt the meditation in progress.

After Service there's Soji, temple cleaning, I lucked out and got to help setup the Zendo for the sit the next day. We had to take some straw mats and zabutans from the Ino's Closet (I always wondered what was in there…) and lay out the temporarily middle row of seats for a busy Saturday. But my head wasn't in it and I made a few mistakes: walking out the priest's entrance to the zendo, in only my socks into a 'shoes on' zone to get cushions and when i came back i walked right past the altar without even thinking about it. I've done the altar thing once before when returning a zafu but nobody saw me that time.

Defining Dokusan

Turns out that there's two types of teacher interview at Zen Center; you can have practice discussion with any number of senior sanga members, many of whom have received transmission or you can have a formal Dokusan with an Abbot or Senior Dharma Teacher, who I believe were all Abbots at one time. The forms for getting in and out of the room differ a bit, but they're different between Green Gulch and City Center in the first place: there's a full bow before the Abbot before and after the interview instead of the standing gassho bow for a practice discussion.

As I said in my last article, the contents of Dokusan are private, but I will share that I felt like I totally failed the interview. Paul kept asking one simple question: How is your Zazen today? For the life of me I simply couldn't answer, I was so caught up in various anxieties and memories that there really wasn't any Zazen for me that day, I just sat on the cushion and let my run away while I waited for the next service or work period so that I could get off that damn cushion and go do something.

Sitting and doing nothing wasn't happening, no backwards step, no clear mind, I couldn't even sit still. My legs ached all day long and I was constantly adjusting my position. It was by far the hardest day in the Zendo so far, and it was shorter than several days I've put in the the past.

Last Sit

Sitting was so hard, and I was so fidgety that after the kinhin break and before settling into the last sitting session of the day one of my neighbors leaned over and whispered "excuse me", I don't remember exactly how he phrased it but the message was pretty clear: You're being disruptive, go sit in the Gaitan for this session.

So, I grabbed my cushion and headed out of the Zendo the bell, sat seza on my cushion and just started crying and kept going for basically the entire last sitting period. I felt like I'd failed at being a good student, that I wasn't good at anything, a lot of stuff came out, and a lot of it ended up on my sleeve. It was sort of the exact opposite of my Oryoki Incident from last month, instead of having an ecstatic emotional release I was dropped into the ocean of suffering and had to just tread water until the bell for the last service.

The last service was hard, there were still tears streaming down my face, my nose was congested and a couple of times I felt like falling over or fainting when getting back up from a bow, my voice was rough in the chanting and I wasn't sure if I wanted to go to dinner afterwards or just go home and feel sorry for myself.

I ended up staying for dinner, and had a nice chat with a relative newcomer who had come over from a Rinzai temple, I told her about my experience and she related the form at her pervious temple: they yell "Second Zendo" at you in front of everyone and you have to leave. That's after they've hit you with the Keisaku. I'm really not sure which would have been more painful.

Update: Please read the follow-up if you make it all the way down here.

My Dinner With the Ino

I've been up at the farm all week on summer vacation, but I really wanted to catch up with Shundo after all the back and forth on our respective blogs after attending Sesshin last week so I drove down to City Center for the evening sit, dinner and an interesting discussion.

We talked about a lot, including our practice histories, some of the details of Zendo management, even a little about our aspirations with respect to Zen. One interesting thing I brought up is the rather odd contrast between the two defining characteristics of Suzuki Roshi's lineage: orthodoxy and reformation.

The practice of Soto Zen at Zen Center is impressively orthodox, the forms are maintained with as much fidelity to the japanese practice as possible and the establishment of the first Zen monastery and training temple was a major accomplishment. Suzuki Roshi is in a very real sense as important a figure as Bodhidarma or Dogen in the history of Buddhism. Some things have changed, to be sure, but we chant in japanese at services, the monks wear traditional robes and if there are differences it's certainly not from a lack of earnest effort on the part of the residents and staff. As Shundo pointed out, Zen Center is 'the Vatican' of western Zen.

The degree to which the Japanese forms are emulated was, to be honest, a little strange at first. I would occasionally shake my head at something I didn't understand or recognize and write it off as an attempt to be 'more zen than the zen masters'. Sometimes it struck me as a little silly or maybe just foreign, which it is, and I've found the forms to be both challenging and comforting as I'm learning them.

However, this experience of strangeness points directly to the second important legacy of Suzuki Roshi; something I think it's fair to call the Soto Reformation. Suzuki Roshi didn't just bring Zen practice to the West, he also brought it to anyone who was willing to come and sit. In Japan, Zazen is almost entirely a monastic practice, lay members of the Sanga might come to see and participate in services and listen to dharma talks but they don't typically sit in meditation. Zen Center, by contrast, was started by lay practitioners who wanted to engage in Zen but who would not or could not retire from the world and enter the monastic life.

Zen Center provides a truly unique opportunity to learn and practice alongside of some wonderful people who have dedicated their lives to intimately transmitting the dharma from West to East, for the benefit of all beings. Being able to sit down and share a meal with one of them is more than a treat, it's a great privilege and I'm immensely grateful for the opportunity and for the continuous effort of everyone who makes it possible.

Surviving Sesshin

The first I heard about Sesshin was one Saturday lunch at the beginners table, Shundo was outlining the basics: sitting all day, no talking, and when he got the the part about no reading or writing I remember saying something along the lines of “Are you kidding? That’s just crazy.” I wasn’t sure that I could handle it, and clearly I was right, but for the most part I was able to keep to the schedule and follow along. There was a lot of discomfort on many levels but the experience was deeply rewarding and I’m grateful for all the hard work that the residents and staff at the zen center put into making the weekend happen.

The Oryoki Incident

Over the course of the three days I felt like I was gaining competency in the forms, by the third day the routine of the Zendo was becoming second nature, there wasn’t much worry about making mistakes, when I was out of form i would simply adjust and that was that. I started to feel real comfort in the services. I even felt like I was getting good at Oryoki, until breakfast on Sunday.

We had finished eating and moved on to the wash cycle, I had cleaned my Buddha bowl and was working on the second or third when the unthinkable happened: I dumped about half my wash water along with my spatula onto the floor of the Zendo making a racket and a mess. Mortified, I had no idea what to do, I really couldn’t get up because my bowls where still on the meal board in front of me, I froze for a second until the attendant to the Tanto who was sitting next to me leaned over and gave me instructions “put your hands in gassho and someone will come around to clean up.”

Soon enough, a sponge appeared, the mess was mopped up, the dropped spatula was taken to the alter to be purified then returned to me, and I put my bowls back together and wrapped them up with shaking hands. After the meal when we got up to leave the Zendo I tried to brush the remaining water off the meal board and was shaking my head feeling embarrassed and clumsy when I heard the words, “don’t worry about it.”

In Zen there is the concept of sudden enlightenment, that all the effort you put into meditation and study and practice only lay the groundwork for awakening, there’s a leap that you have to make on your own from the mundane to the profound. It comes as suddenly as a flash of lightening when it comes but there’s no anticipating it or planning for it. It just happens when it happens.

I had spent two days sitting, composing letters in my head, struggling with my karma and generally worrying myself into a bit of a state. Those four words, right at that moment, were like opening a dump valve, suddenly all my worry fell away and it was all I could do not to laugh out loud with the joy of relief. That feeling dissipated over the next few hours but every now and again when I would catch myself getting back into the worried and anxious mind i would repeat it back to myself, “don’t worry about it.” Works like a charm.

Co-Conspirators

As we were leaving the Zendo at the end of the last sit, Jordan said a few words in conclusion and asked Blanche if she had anything to add, her reply which i’m paraphrasing was wonderful “we’ve been breathing together for three days, we’re conspirators now.”

Even without talking or trying not to make eye contact, there’s a feeling that developed over the three days of real connection to everyone else in the group, especially the few of us that were left on the third day after many of the residents dropped out (this is pretty understandable, it’s pretty easy to just walk next door and get back to your regular routine). A few people I knew from Saturday service in particular felt much closer and familiar.

There’s a lot more I could say, but in closing I think the most important thing I took away was that while being serious about practice is important, you can’t be too serious, especially if you're just a beginner.

No Blogging During Sesshin

Sesshin is a time to collect the mind, to that end there are admonitions against talking, touching, making eye contact, reading, writing, and as Shundo was kind enough to remind me Friday night, blogging.

Well, here we are, it's Saturday night, after fire watch, with one day to go and I couldn't quite resist writing a little something. Mostly because the lack of entertainment is driving me a a little crazy. The rest periods after meals have been challenging, here are a few things I've found to do to during the down time:

- explore the building, the roof is lovely, and discovering all the bathrooms is entertaining
- maintain excellent dental hygiene, the breaks are all after meals so this works out well, I'm bringing floss next time
- have some tea or water, staying hydrated is important and there is fruit set out in the dining room to snack on
- wonder where all the residents disappear to between sittings. Seriously, they seem to magically disappear after leaving the zendo and then appear just as mysteriously for the next sit period. I suspect that most of the long-term residents live in the building next door but I can't exactly ask anyone.
- leave chocolate on the Ino's desk test his strength of will
- fold origami bunnies:

Okay, I feel a bit better now that I've scratched that itch. Time for bed.

Location:Page St,San Francisco,United States

 

Saturday Morning Breakfast Service

I was clearly feeling ambitious Friday night when I set my alarm for first bell (4:30) Saturday morning. It's not the first time I've attempted to make it to City Center for the early Saturday service but it was the first time I didn't hit snooze and roll back into bed.

And it was totally worth it, after surviving a one day sit last month, Saturday morning services were a real treat. With just one sitting, a chanting and bowing service, temple cleaning and breakfast in the zendo there's enough to get the feel of a full day but without the physical strain of nine sitting periods. After breakfast you can either stay for the 9:30 sit and lecture or go about your day, which is what I ended up doing since I mostly wanted to get a feel for how services and breakfast are run at City Center before sitting the three day Sesshin this weekend.

A couple of important lessons learned:
- Shoes that slip on and off are a must have at City Center to get between the Zendo and the Buddha Hall for services.
- My elaborate plan to bribe the Ino with chocolate in order to get the toilet cleaning job was completely misguided and unnecessary; the Ino does not hand out work assignments, and I got toilets anyway. Also, I forgot the chocolate.
- There isn't a good place to stash your oroyki bowls after breakfast, which makes using the guest bowls very convenient.

Zen and Neuroscience

I attened the Zen and Neuroscience workshop at San Francisco Zen Center , April 23, 2011. The topic has always interested me and Philippe is an active researcher in the field as well as a Buddhist practitioner with a wealth of knowledge to share. it was also an opportunity to meet the Abbot, Ryushin Paul Haller and to experience my first full-day event.

There were some technical difficulties with the recording and setup but you can listen to all of last year's version of the talk. Besides the lecture we did a number of mindfulness exercises and a few listening and compassion exercises, working with a group that seemed to mostly consist of psychiatric practitioners as well as a few odd interested parties like myself.

My  take away is similar to Shudo's: neuroscience is just catching up with 2500 years of inquiry into the workings of our minds by Buddhists monks and scholars. Throughout the day I kept coming back to the first passage ot the Dhammapada:

DHP 1: What we are today comes from our thoughts of yesterday, and our present thoughts build our life of tomorrow: our life is a creation of the mind.

It's exciting to see how rapidly the understanding of our minds is growing, and to have the efficacy of meditation validated by this rigorous inquiry. I was left with a clear impression of the benefits of Zazen both for expanding our awareness and support of physical health. I'll be doing a one-day sit as soon as I have a chance.

Buddha's Birthday: City Center Edition

Every culture more than a few degrees north or south of the equator has a spring festival. If you grew up in, say, a christian household that means Easter, with it's odd mix of old European pagan fertility symbols (the bunny, eggs and maypole) and the crucifixion story from the bible.

For Japanese Buddhists, and adherents to that tradition here in America, Buddha's Birthday, is celebrated on or around April or May 8th. Traditional activities include the decoration of a small temple which houses a baby buddha statue, which is then bathed in sweet tea. The heart sutra is chanted the story of buddha's birth is read aloud.

I got to do all this for the first time, at San Francisco Zen Center, on April 9th, 2011. I'm a member there and a follower of the Ino's Blog, who posts regularly on life as a resident and meditation hall manager. I've really enjoyed having a view in on the day to day life of a resident, and though it would be interesting to chronicle my involvement. So here we are.