Nothing to Write About

That last entry was a complete throwaway, it occurred to me to write out a sesshin blurb in that format, so I did, but my heart wasn't in it. The problem is I'm not sure how to write about what actually happened, or if I should, or if I want to share it with everyone. I'm not trying to be coy (well maybe a little) it's just a hard experience to sort out, the crucible of sesshin can have a dramatic effect on people, even experienced sitters.

The Language Thing

One of the hardest and most compelling parts of sesshin for me is the restrictions on reading and writing. Speech I don't have a problem with, but not being able to read and write was initially terrifying. I work in a world of words and conceptual constructions, formal and informal grammars, ontological structures, inheritance hierarchies, complex networks, directed graphs of nodes. For fun I mostly read, voraciously, online and off. It's not a recognized condition but it's probably fair to say I'm on the hyperlexic side of the curve.

Over the course of the last year or so as I've sat through more than twenty full days of meditation the experience has been varied, but as each new experience has come up I've learned to recognize it and label it and let go. In the classic texts there are 10,000 things that come up durning meditation and the practice is to meet those things, recognize them for what they are and let go of them. Just sit there and process what comes up, be still and simply endure your own inner chaos and learn what it is that drives you to distraction.

It's a slow process, picking apart the sensations, perceptions and conscious formations that arise in our minds and figuring out how not to become attached to them. Thus we relieve all suffering one moment at a time, sitting there on the cushion, soaking it in for a little while. Each new sit has brought me a new piece of knowledge about myself, a way to stop for a moment and recognize particular formation for what it is: delusion. So when I realized that I spend most of my time in mediation, and in life, thinking about what to say, well, it might not sound like much but it made a big difference.

Being Time

I haven't started in on the original writings of Dogen just yet, but there is one phrase that has stuck in my mind since I first heard it: "the mind moves from the present to the past". That is, even though we understand time to be a linear phenomenon, with the clock ticking inexorably forward away from the past and into the future, our experience of it is distinctly non-linear. We visit the past every time we remember a pleasant memory or a regret or a loss, and we travel into the future every time we compose, practice and rehearse what we are going to say or write to someone.

Sitting there, one day it came to me, I'm almost always in the past or the future. Either swimming in an ocean of regret and loss or hanging from a cliff of anxiety, fearful of falling into the uncertain future, grasping at the vines. So I had my moment, my sudden realization that I'd been sitting here out of time most of my life. Living in my own forest of delusion about what may have happened and what might happen. That's when it finally got quiet, the monkey sat down in my lap, right there in my cupped hands, curled up a went to sleep.

Nothing to Say

It's what happened next that I'm not sure what to say about, or if there is anything to say about it. Because what it is required the suspension of language, and how can you describe an experience that is inherently outside of the bounds of language? This is the fundamental koan of Zen, how do you show what cannot be described in words? Many have tried, but the answers tend to frustrate beginners:

"How do you think of not thinking? Think of non-thinking."

"The way that can be told is not the true way."

"The path is the goal."

There are moments that I could describe, but they're just memories, just the worlds I use to remind myself about a past that has already dissolved into emptiness. And there are things I might want to say about the future which doesn't exist outside of my own prognostication. The past and future are products of the persistent delusion we all carry around with us, that we are separate from the rest of the universe, that what we think and experience in day to day life is reality. The truth is far more profound than words can describe and it's highly resistant to being recorded or explained, you have to go looking for it yourself, and you can't stop looking until you find it.

Mission Accomplished?

Going back to the beginning of this blog, a little more than a year ago, I laid out my goals for practice:

"What I hope to learn [is] how to be in the moment with myself and the world. How to let go of my delusions and see clearly, how to step away from my habits and into a spontaneous life."

Even at the time I knew that these gaining ideas weren't quite in line with the teachings, but sometimes you have to go with the best you have. Having a specific goal in practice misses the point of exploring yourself and looking for the present moment. Believing for a second that anything has or can be accomplished in seating meditation is a trap, we don't improve by sitting, we create space in the rest of our lives so that we can improve ourself. It's a subtle distinction but critical to keeping close to the way, which is what is required to actualize the enlightenment that can be touched in Zazen.

Practice, therefore, is just that: practice. The real work of becoming a Buddha—something I never intended to pursue—happens outside of the Zendo, away from the cushion. Practice prepares the ground of awakening, but the seed is already beneath the soil, richly fertilized with our karma and delusions, ready to come up through the ground and grow if we can just let the light in and make room in the garden of our minds.

"Dirt farming and cloud farming, it's all the same."

Four Truths of Sesshin

One: All of Sesshin is Suffering

From forgetting my Oryoki bowls, to being late to take the refuges, to wake up bell, into hours and hours of sitting, through twenty services and oryoki meals, hundreds of prostrations, soji, dishes… Following the schedule completely is suffering, anyone who tells you differently is selling something.

Medicine Bowl might be the worst, though.

Two: There is a cause for Sesshin

We chant about it in morning service: all my ancient twisted karma; born from beginning-less greed, hate and delusion. Sitting is first and for most an exercise is not generating karma. What karma can accumulate when speech, movement and even thoughts are restrained?

Sesshin is the process of cutting the Gordian knot that we create in our lives, through our actions, speech and thoughts. Just sitting there the past and the future unwind into the present moment, past misdeeds are confronted and desires for the future examined in detail. Sitting puts our karmic life under the microscope and asks us to look at it, to classify it and understand the roots of our suffering.

Three: There is an end of Sesshin

The schedule loops day after day, it becomes a steady rhythm and you move from place to place, ceremony to ceremony, sit to kinhin, back to the cushion, setup for talk, eat lunch, take a break, afternoon sitting, service… The clock ticks through every moment of the week, keeping an eye on the schedules posted around is pretty much mandatory. It's also the only reading you get to do. Savor it.

Six full days of living in a darkened room, staring at a blank wall. But then, on the seventh day, it ends. You have breakfast, a closing talk, lunch and then the sesshin is over. You can talk again. Read. Have a cookie.

OMFB a Cookie.

Four: There is a path to the end of Sesshin

The path has eight steps

1. Right View - Sure it's painful and exhausting but remember that you're here to have fun.
2. Right Intention - Just to make it through to the end seems like enough of an intention.
3. Right Speech - None. Well, as little as possible. Dish shifts are a good place to sneak in a word or two.
4. Right Action - Do whatever is needed of you in the moment, you might luck out and get to serve tea.
5. Right Livelihood - Do your soji job well, make it your personal mission to keep your area perfect for the week.
6. Right Effort - Try not to miss sittings. Try. I signed out for one evening sit on the tenkin pad: "in room crying".
7. Right Mindfulness - Remember that everyone else around you is going through the same process, give them space.
8. Right Concentration - Enjoy your zazen. It is the dharma gate of bliss and repose, after all.

Keep these four truths in mind of and follow the eight steps and you might do a little better than just Surviving Sesshin.

Just Another One Day

My favorite priest is leading the practice period at Green Gulch this spring so I've signed up for both one day sittings and the Sesshin at the beginning of April which marks the end of the period. I've found myself lamenting the fact that I won't be able to do a full Practice Period for more than ten years, since I have a seven year old and taking three months off from being a dad is basically unthinkable. So, I'll have to make do as a Zen Reservist: one weekend a month, two weeks a year.

Guest Bowls

I had a deadline Friday night at midnight, some work had to be completed and submitted. I also had an aunt visiting from out of town, a doctors appointment and a meeting which I needed to be prepared for. Busy day, lots going on, while I was getting packed for the one day I put my Oryoki set next to the door so I wouldn't forget it.

Around 10PM I finished up and finished getting ready, double checking my reservation I noticed that there wasn't the usual note about the guest house stay. Considering this for a second I packed up a small tent and brought it along, after doing some laundry I finally left the house around 11 PM. Guess what I forgot?

Camping Out

There wasn't an note on the door with my name on it, and I didn't want to bust in at 11:30 and see if there was a room unoccupied I could use for the night and settle up with the office in the morning, besides I hadn't slept out for a while, so I headed down to the beach. Walking through the farm at night with just a crescent moon and the glow of the city over the hills is an experience of sounds and smells (the compost heap is a particularly fragrant spot), the creek babbling along with you on it's way to the ocean, the wind rusting the trees and grasses, the howling of coyote up in the hills, the breath and chewing of the horses outside the bottom gate, the scurrying in the bushes on the path to the beach.

The tent I brought is a bivvy shelter, I can pack it with the mattress and sleeping bag already in and roll them up into a compact bundle that sets up in less than five minutes. The hike down to the beach is about fifteen minutes, so right around midnight I was tucked into bed on Muir Beach, with a great view of the sky and the surf in my ears. Despite that I didn't sleep much, and the first sitting is at five, I had to get up, break camp, hike back and get changed then stash everything back in the car. There was just enough time for coffee.

Wholehearted Sitting
There is a lot of talk about wholehearted practice around here, reminding us that the Way of Zen (and I think any other serious religious practice) demands complete dedication. It's like a marriage, unless you commit to working through the hard times together it's very difficult to make real progress. We see an aspect of this in the Christian tradition of Nuns becoming figuratively married to Christ and wearing bands on their hands.
When we sit on the cushion with the intent of giving ourselves wholly to our own Buddha nature for a day we give up our everyday thinking and engage in examining ourselves so that we can provide support for all brings. It seems like selfish navel gazing but everyone in the zendo is working as hard as they can to improve themselves and help the people around then. Sitting silent and still with that intention is both an welcome break from our daily accumulation of karma and an opportunity to discover how to keep from reacting without first considering the outcomes, which tends to improve the quality of the karma that we do create.

Confession and Repentance
I wasn't very wholehearted in sitting, especially not at Oryoki, which was a bit of a disaster, I neglected to ask the Ino for guest bowls, thinking that the form would the the same as the Saturday morning Oryoki breakfasts at City Center, so there wasn't a tray for whoever came in after me, since I took theirs. I didn't find out about that until after breakfast, which I felt pretty bad about.

There's no setsu, just a paper napkin; a metal spoon, which can be loud against the bowls if you aren't very, very careful; and the chopsticks are very polished lacquer and round, which makes them roll around on the tray and there was no way I could pick up the almonds with them. When we got to the wash cycle I tried to use the paper napkin on the end of the spook as a setsu, which almost works. When it came time to drink the ambrosia I was amused to find that it tasted a lot like paper napkin.

The services felt good to do twice in a day, but I was completely relieved when i was on the morning dish shift. Lunch in the Zendo went better than breakfast, I figured out how to clean with the napkin so that it doesn't end up disintegrating into the cleaning water, made a nice stack of bowls and dropped them off in the kitchen. Took a walk down the farm road for a bit then back for a coffee or two before the afternoon sits started.

Exit Strategy
After tea, there is a short break, I stopped by the office and signed up for the sesshin at the end of the practice period and at that point, already in my jacket, with my car key in my hand, that I knew it was time to go home. My legs were complaining louder and louder as the day progressed, my lack of sleep catching up with me, I pulled a sheet of paper out of my pocket and penciled in a quick note to the Ino, who wasn't at her post in Cloud Hall, stopped to tell the Doshi's Jika just to make sure and got in the car.

I drove across the bridge and into the city, not to my house but directly to Macy's. I needed to buy some sheets and new pillows for the house, having thrown out the old ones the night before. After taking them home and putting them in the washer I called up a friend who had been wanting to talk and went out to dinner. So, in the end, I skipped out on the last three sittings to go shopping, eat fancy food and have drinks with a buddy.

Looks like I'm going to need a little more practice.

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…

I Suck at Sesshin

No really, I'm awful. This beginner was in no way prepared going into this, not physically, not emotionally, and it showed. Here's the play-by-play:

Sunday the 21st

Got stuck in traffic on the way in, needed to stop in to the office before they closed to reserve some rooms for an upcoming weekend with some other parents from the children's program. The Tanto made a point of giving me a stern look when the "no electronics" admonishment was read by the Ino, I'd say my reputation proceeds me but I was in the middle of typing out one last email on my phone at the time, so I had it coming.

After orientation some people stuck around for oriyoki instruction, I went to unpack my room and get ready for the week. After dinner in the dining room we had another rest period (which is traditional after eating) then a period of zazen or two and a brief service for chanting the three refuges, the Ino announced the start of sesshin and our week of silence had begun.

Monday the 22nd

I was late to the first morning sit, which was a real issue because not only did I miss the morning greeting, I didn't really know the form for getting into the zendo a little late. Like any other form you follow along as best you can and try not to dwell on it while settling onto the cushion.

We got our week long Soji assignments in the morning: mens bathroom in the residents hall. It's a Soji dream (lots of toilets and urinals) and there was a bit of a race to get to the soji sheet, read the instructions for the toilets, and grab the supplies before someone else. The first day we had too many on the crew, half were supposed to clean the outside men's room, so there were a few moments of "everyone is doing something, what should I clean." Once we had that sorted negotiating turns at toilet cleaning got easier (there were only two of us left) and the rest of the week went quite smoothly.

Some of the participants work in the kitchen during the week, some are on the Oryoki Serving crew, I was on a dish crew Monday, Wednesday, Friday and one shift on Sunday. After a week on the farm and occasionally doing drop-in shifts I know dishes pretty well so this was a welcome break from the sitting and I was able to help out some of the other participants with putting stuff away and other kitchen forms. So my one area of semi-competence durning the week was well outside the Zendo, but at least it's something.

Tuesday the 23rd

By Tuesday morning I was coming to grips with the schedule a bit and discovered a great gift: a noisy neighbor. Remember back at that last one day, when I was fidgeting all over the cushion? Well, it was that all over again except I was on the other side, thankfully I had Shundo's advice to follow: be compassionate, which wasn't hard considering my recent experience. I'd been there and knew how it felt to sit with my own suffering and to feel like I was disturbing the people next to me. In fact, as long as I had this suffering to be compassionate about, I was able to sit very quietly and focus on that. It was much easier than sitting with my own suffering.

After lunch I took a long hike on the break, up Middle Green Gulch trail to the ridge and then back down the fire road past Hope Cottage. I got back just in time to change out my shoes for sandals and get into the Zendo for the afternoon sit, sweaty and well exercised, feeling every breath.
After dinner I took another break for a sauna, the Jisha to the Tanto came in after me and left before me. I should have paid attention to this but I was enjoying the sauna after the hike at lunch break. When I finally did get out and shower off I was a bit alarmed to hear the Han sound out before I was quite dressed. The message of the Han is 'come to the zendo now', I'm sure nobody minded that I got dressed before I did.

Wednesday the 24th

Most guests who aren't working get a break after meals, the dish crew has to report to the kitchen to do the dishes, so we were excused from the sitting periods after breaks. Monday I didn't take all these breaks but Wednesday I did. Schedule fatigue sets in pretty deeply after three days of dawn to dark sitting, having those breaks was nice even if I did feel like I was missing out, or cheating, or something. Most of the break time I spent in the dining room working on my origami and drinking coffee.

During the week Reb would periodically walk around and give posture adjustments, by Wednesday I could at least get into a posture that didn't need much correction when he came around. Of course I went right back to slouching after that, but for a moment there: Passable Posture.

Thursday the 25th

Got up early, around 2AM, went down to the kitchen around 3 and made coffee then went to the zendo and did an hour of sitting in the dark. Wasn't too hard to be the first for the 5AM sit after that, even after taking time to go get a coffee after the wakeup bell started.

I had two practice discussions Thursday, which was a long time to wait to have a conversation with anyone. The character of the two discussions was pretty much the opposite of what I had expected going in, but I did get what I was looking for, even if I wasn't quite prepared for it that early in the morning.

Remember the ocean of suffering I went swimming in last month? Well it's still there and since my noisy neighbor got a doan job I was all out of distractions, compassionate or otherwise. Most of the rest of the day was spent with that ocean behind my eyes, leaking out slowly and quietly (I hope) as I sat on the cushion.

Friday the 26th

Friday morning came and went, I took a walk down to the beach after doing dishes and got back in time for the lecture. While at the beach I noticed a bag that had been there yesterday, I don't know for sure what was in it but judging from the weight I decided not to open it up. Sitting on the bench I noticed a number of cigarette buts on the ground in front of a bench overlooking the ocean. After a moment of disgust at having to clean up after these dirty litterbugs I picked everything up and walked it over to the garbage cans at the parking lot.

My little beach cleanup left me thinking: what an odd mix of intentions these people had, to come to the beach and try to find some peace and then to poison themselves (as an ex-smoker, I totally understand but I had to develop an aversion to help myself quit) and finally defile the beach by leaving their litter behind. By the time I got to the garbage can to drop off my little bag of shit I'd gotten over my disgust and saw that I'm really no different. We're all a mix of intentions and the trick, if you can call it that, is to stop yourself in the moment between though and action, evaluate the intentions that come up and try to pick the best one.

After listing to the lecture I actually worked up the courage to go up to the front and ask a question about my experience on the beach. You can hear the exchange between Reb and this beginner here (it's about eight minutes in total).

Saturday the 27th

While the break for a walk and doing the Q&A was good I spent most of the day Friday in tears again, twice I got up and a tissue that I'd tucked under my shirt fell out onto the Zendo floor. My neighbor was nice enough to point this out both times. During morning Soji I hit my head on a beam while getting my shoes and blurted out "Every God-Dammed Time!" which drew a few mute stares. It's one thing to break the silence while you're doing dishes but another to start swearing before Soji. Clearly I was starting to get worn down.

After cleaning the mens bathroom but before breakfast I asked the Ino if I could go lie down, my legs hurt, I was tired of crying all day long, I wasn't getting enough sleep or food (I'd been taking small portions at meals all week). Going back to my room I fell asleep immediately and had the most lurid dream I can recall having in years. It reminded me of a story about Ananda, from the roll-in to the Surangama Sutra (p.25 in that translation) where Ananda goes out begging and is tempted into a house of ill repute, he's about to loose his virtue when an agent of the Buddha intervenes at the last minute and 'saves' him from the clutches of a low woman.

Waking up from the dream I checked the schedule and clock, looked at myself in the mirror and quickly shaved then returned to the Zendo for lecture. Turns out you're not actually supposed to shave during Sesshin but I had forgotten to bring a hair brush as well and was starting to look like one of the Farm Crew. Sitting through the lecture was easy enough, and I stayed in the Zendo for fast kinhin, i think, and for lunch.

After lunch I walked down to the beach, coming back my fatigue caught up with me, I felt immeasurably lonely walking back, didn't want to sit in the Zendo and cry any longer so I went straight back to my room to hide under the covers for a few hours. I neglected to tell the Ino where I was (this is part of the Sesshin protocol) and after a few missed sits she came up to check on me and ask what was wrong. I offered up some lame excuse about my legs hurting, and got some advice on stretching and taking a walk to the beach.

Good advice, but hardly pertinent to my situation. I guess it's what I get for lying about why I was missing in action. I promised to come back for the evening service, which was going to be a Bhodisatva initiation ceremony for one of Reb's students (the same one, it turns out, that helped me with the chant book way back at that one day sit).

Sunday the 28th

By Sunday I felt like my knees weren't going to make it the whole day, so I decided on skipping oroyki which has become my favorite part of the full day sits, but which is also the longest time you have to sit without a posture adjustment. I felt that the sitting was more important, though having done it getting in and out of the zendo before and after each meal was a bit awkward, so I'm going to either have to start doing yoga (which is popular around the Zen Center for what are quickly becoming obvious reasons) or give up my pride and sit at a table.

During the final Q&A session after the closing lecture we got a demo of Kyosaku technique after one of the other sitters asked for it. It was all I could do not to get up and ask to be next, but after seeing it once there was really no need to get up and reveal myself as a total Masochist.

After the conclusion of the last sitting period in the afternoon I cleaned up my cushion, and headed out to the kitchen for tea and cookies, on the way one of the senior teachers stopped me and asked a seemingly innocuous question, "would you like to know something about our Zendo forms?" Uh-oh.

"Of course!" I responded and was then told that wearing a mala in the Zendo is specifically forbidden, by Dogen himself. Fuck. It really left me wondering: what else am I doing wrong? I'm sure the list is a lot longer than I'd like to think it is.

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.

A Week on the Farm: Wednesday

Wednesday: Pond Cleaning

When they got pond cleaning for their work assignment on Wednesday one of the Guest Students was a little apprehensive about going out on a boat so we swapped she went to help out in the kitchen while I went with the rest of the gang down to the pond to pull up some weeds. To accomplish this we used a small aluminum boat, a raft and some rakes that we borrowed from the Farm Crew. I remembered that there was rain gear in my car (where was that yesterday?) and went to grab it even though the weather was much better and it really wasn't necessary.

Pretty quickly we had a bit of an informal competition going between boats, to see who could rake in more weeds. The recommended technique is to put the rake down in the water and swirl it around, like you're trying to pickup a fork full of spaghetti. After comparing our respective loads at lunch time we were all determined to do better in the afternoon and out harvest the other team. As a Guest Practice Retreatant, I wasn't on the hook to go back and work in the afternoon but they would have been one short to crew the boats and the teams would have been split so there really wasn't much choice, it was for the benefit of all beings, except maybe the weeds.

Rake Overboard

My partner and I were in the small boat, besides the rakes we had oars for getting around, the raft used a bamboo punt stick to navigate and hold it's position. Over the course of the afternoon we drifted apart a bit and worked on different parts of the pond, going where the weeding looked most productive. At one point one of our rakes stuck in the mud and was sticking up out of the muck, we had to paddle over to it to get it back into the boat, bit of a close call.

A few minutes later we heard a commotion from across the pond, so we paddled over to discover that the raft crew had lost a rake in deeper water, and it was nowhere to be found. Remember, these are the farms rakes and we were working with a member of the garden crew, so loosing one was a bit of a big deal, the farmers weren't going to let us forget it if we lost one of their rakes. There was a lot of searching, we pulled up all the weeds in the general area and tried to locate the submerged rake, after about ten minutes the raft crew decided to head back so that one of them could change into something more suitable for swimming.

While they were over at the bank my partner in the boat and I continued to search around, and finally I hit it! Leaning over the front of the boat and probing around with my rake I found the submerged one, it's wooden handle floating off the bottom and the iron rake head keeping it on the pond floor. I tried to reach over, almost flooding the boat in the process, after a few minutes of poking at it the course of action was pretty clear. I stripped out of my rain gear and handed my glasses over to my co-pilot, and with a quick "Shikata ga nai" was over the side and into the pond.

The pond is cold and the water is a bit murky, especially after having been stirred up by all the weed pulling. I hopped in and it was way over my head, after coming back up for air I held onto the boat and searched around with my feet until I had the rake between them and could pull it up. Rake retrieved we paddled back over to the cheering raft crew, not only did we save them a swim the farm crew wouldn't have anything to hold over our heads afterwords.

A Week on the Farm: Tuesday

Tuesday: Composting

As much as I enjoyed working in the kitchen, one of my goals for the week was to get out and do some physical work on the farm. So when we heard that we were going to help with composting on Tuesday I was pretty excited. Even if it was raining a little, and all I had on was my jeans and a light windbreaker.

The task, is to build a layer cake of organic material that will be hot-composted down to organic fertilizer for the farm. The recipe has an adorable mnemonic "Farm Girls Must Sing", each of the letters is an ingredient: Food Waste, Green Waste, Manure and Something else I can't recall. The food waste comes out of buckets, the same we'd been putting our trimmings into during yesterday's kitchen work. Green waste was some cleared brush from a field, which was pitchforked onto the pile. Manure, thankfully, is handled entirely by the tractor, which works from a larger pile and scoops up enough for a layer. The paper towels from the kitchen and bathrooms are composted as well. Durning the composting process the pile is turned several times and heats up high enough to sterilize the pathogens in the manure.

Once the buckets of food waste have been emptied they need to be rinsed, then scrubbed with a brush, and the rinsed again. There were a lot of buckets, and they still had plenty of organic matter in them. Near then end I was so tired that I carelessly dropped the hose. The nozzle landed on the handle and sent an arc of water into the air and directly onto my head. I'd already turned my back and was just thinking, "wow, the rain really picked up, hope it's not long before we head back!" when the farm intern I was working with came over and turned off the rain.

By the time we were finished I was soaking wet, cold, tired and covered with rotten vegetables. The buckets had all been cleaned stacked and loaded into the truck. It was a relief to be excused for lunch and start the hike back up the hill. At the end of the morning, there was a sense of both connection to the kitchen work on Monday and accomplishment at what we had achieved together. The compost pile was taller than any of us and bigger than all of us together.

Sometimes we get so wrapped up in our emotional pain, anxiety and other problematic mental formations that we forget about good old fashioned physical discomfort. Composting in the rain with inadequate gear really clears that up. You get wet, the work is messy and physically demanding, I started out chatty and conversational and ended up quiet and focused on just the task at hand.

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

 

1-Day Sitting Schedule: Annotated Version

4:35 Wake-up Bell ends - Someone in the guest house had already made coffee, for which I am very grateful

4:50 1st Bell - Yes, 4:50AM, head to the zendo immediately, try to find the right door, in the dark

5:00 SITTING - In the dark, watching the zendo get lighter slowly

5:40 Walking - So very slowly, one step at a time

5:50 SITTING - more light coming in, more awake after the walk

6:30 Morning Service - we're chanting what now? on which page?

7:00 Soji (temple cleaning) - stayed behind for breakfast instruction

7:20 BREAKFAST - went okay, missed the wash cycle

8:15 Rest - no meditating after you eat

9:00 1st Bell- back to it

9:10 SITTING - getting the hang of this

9:50 Set up for Talk - turns out you're not supposed to stack the seat-thingys

10:00 DHARMA TALK - "you may be wondering, what did I sign up for?" well, now that you mention it…

11:10 Walking - fast, on a loop through the zendo and out alongside the pond, saw a blue heron in the yard being harassed by a red-winged blackbird

11:20 SITTING - did I just see that?

12:00 Noon Service - still needed help with the chant book

12:15 LUNCH - achievement unlocked: clean your bowl

1:10 Rest - almost an hour, but no talking, reading or writing

2:00 1st Bell - back in the box

2:10 SITTING- support cushions, how do they work?

2:40 Walking - sweet relief

2:50 SITTING - support cushions really working

3:20 TEA - and COOKIE! OMFB a cookie

3:45 Rest - legs really need a stretch, nice to be outside

4:00 1st Bell - OK almost there

4:10 SITTING - support cushions helping

4:35 Walking - so very slowly

4:45 SITTING - who let the monkey in here?

5:10 Walking - only one session left, almost there

5:20 SITTING - can't really feel legs anymore

5:50 Evening Service - actually found the chants by myself

6:00 DINNER (in dining room) - thanks, but i really need to get in my car and put on some loud music now

Awkward, Confused, Overcome

If I had to pick three words for how it felt to do a full day meditation retreat for the first time, those are the three.

I'm a big fan of Socially Awkward Penguin, for me it's some of the most relatablehumor out there. So when you come back from there, imagine someone who thinks of themselves as a little awkward to start with in situation with strict formal rules and traditions, all infused with deep significance, from a culture that is not your own. I felt like I was constantly making errors, because I was, every little thing has a right way and a wrong way: which side of the cushion to be on, which mudra, facing which direction relative to the assembly or your cushion. The inside of the zendo is a highly scripted performance, and you can't spectate, excepting by reading accounts, so participating for the first time is bound to be awkward.

The three chanting services provided the most confusing part of the day, some ofthe content is phonetically transcribed japanese, some is english, some may be phonetic pali, i'm not sure. There's an announcer who reads the titles before you chant them but if you don't know that and you look clueless enough the teachers assistant turns the pages for you the first couple of times. I figured it out by the last service. A lot of the smaller verses, especially at meal time, don't get announced so if you're a regular, memorization is key for those.

Breakfast and lunch in the zendo turned out to be a treat, I was focused on the forms and followed along pretty well for breakfast, but missed the wash water and had not perfectly clean dishes for lunch. The kit includes a little spatula for 'licking' the bowl in a dignified manner, to make sure you get everything out of the meal. The wash water is you beverage for that meal, drink about a third as part of the ceremony, drain about a third into the buckets, and save the last portion to drink after. I dumped all my water after drinking a small portion and didn't have enough for the toast after wards. The food was really excellent, simple hearty, portions just right for a light day of sitting and walking.

At the end of the day I left before dinner, feeling a little overcome at the scale of the thing. After years of on and off solo mediation this is a bit like running a marathon both in terns of the physical demands of sitting for more than 12 hours and the demands on concentration and focus. Thankfully, there are slow and fast walking breaks built into the program, which help to ease the physical strain of sitting. I tried to stay in the zendo as much as possible and follow along, there was a lot of helpful correction along the way as well as good examples sitting all around you, especially during the meals you can sort of follow along for the most part.

What goes on in the zendo is a highly choreographed experience, with the goal being to break you completely out of your everyday mind and absorb it into contemplation of the present moment. The forms force you out of habit and daily convention and into strictly stereotyped roles, it removes a few of the 10,000 things that come up in our minds moment to moment so that we can see more clearly into the murky water of the self. For me, as a beginner, it was Monkey Mind all day long, swinging from the rafters of the zendo while I sat still as a stone.

So after all that, what could have possibly been worth the physical pain, the anxiety, the otherworldliness of it all? Not sure I have an answer to that but I'm seriously considering the upcoming 3 Day Sesshin at City Center next month.

Contemplating a full day of contemplation

I signed up for a full day meditation retreat at Green Gulch Farm, I'll be staying overnight in consideration of the schedule starting at 4:35 AM. There are nine periods of sitting meditation with some walking, service, dharma talks and eating in between. Each sitting period is at least 40 minutes, which makes for a pretty full day of staring at a wall.

In preparation I've been reading specific sections from D.T. Suzuki's, An Introduction to Zen Buddhism, which includes a detailed description of the most anxiety inducing part of the day: BREAKFAST. It's right there in the schedule, in ALL CAPS. For good reason, breakfast in the zendo is no idle affair. First, you'll need the special bowls:

The bowls which each brings are made of wood or paper and are well lacquered, the are usually four of five in number and fit into on another like a nest.

There's an entire hand gesture protocol for getting more rice once you've finished your first helping, apparently you need to be able to negotiate this in order to get a reasonable meal in the zendo:

When another bowl of rice is wanted, the monk holds out his folded hands, the waiter notices it and sits with the rice receptacle before the hungry one; the latter take up his bowl, lightly passes his hand around the bottom to wipe off whatever dirt may have attached itself and be likely to soil the hand of the waiter.

Once you've gone through this process three of four times, it's time to do the dishes. No getting up and going to the kitchen from the zendo though, you'll be washing up right where you are:

…the waiters bring hot water; each monk fills his larges bowl with it and in it all the other bowls are neatly washed and wiped with the tiny napkin which is carried by him. Then a wooden pail goes around to receive the slop

I'll apparently need a tiny napkin, really should be keeping a list. This description completely explains the hesitation in the voice of the guy taking my reservation "it's your first time? You should really consider the tray, it's much simpler…"