On “The Heart Sutra Commentary,” Sekkei Harada’s Words on the function of Dharma

“It is not possible for the ego to intervene in the Dharma. This means that it is enough to become the Dharma. In order to become the Dharma, you must forget the ego. In order to forget the ego, you must sit. That is all there is to it.”

Commentary: Becoming that which you are already are, is like turning from old woman to young. The salty water pervades skin, flesh bones and marrow. Don’t think that forgetting is passivity; don’t think that forgetting is activity. Is there anyplace where this sitting cannot take place?

The Bird and the Ox on Waking Up

Last weekend I was enjoying a discussion about ego with the Dharma en Español group, a gathering of practitioners who study the Spanish translation of Zen Mind, Beginner’s Mind at SFZC City Center on Saturday mornings. We were exploring the ways in which our views about the world reinforce the idea of a separate self, which is THE fundamental delusion of our lives. Eventually an example was needed, and I offered this one:

You are sitting zazen, and begin to hear the chirping of a bird. You think to yourself, “Ah, this bird is trying to help me wake up!”

Can you find the ego-self in this scenario? It reminds me of the 10 Oxherding pictures – particularly number 9, which appears after the empty frame…

Ox herding picture no. 9

Do you see the bird? Do you see the one who sees the bird? Or the one who hears it? Which is to say, the bird does not appear to arise in order to teach you something. The bird is simply bird; it is there to be the bird it must be, due to the coming together of the particular set of circumstances of the moment. The same applies for the hearer, who is an aggregation of a set of circumstances of the moment, which include a bird sound. This is not to say that the bird and the hearer do not influence one another. They most certainly do if there is any sense contact, or even thought of sense contact. So it is clear that they do not apparently arise independent of each other in the moment of contact. They co-arise in the moment. Yet, there is an aspect of the unknown. The hearer cannot know all of the conditions which appear to create bird or even appear to create self in that moment. This is what Dogen meant when he said, “When one side is illuminated, the other is dark.”

The difference between a deluded view of this event and an awakened view of the event is the perspective. One perspective thinks that the bird exists only in relation to the hearer. The other perspective is that the bird and hearer are in relation to one another and to the myriad circumstances of the universe, with neither apparently arising solely based on itself or the other. So the hearer cannot hear oneself in relation to bird. One can only hear bird. And at the moment of hearing bird, the hearer is one with bird, inseparable from bird, and from all the other conditions of the moment.

This phenomena is especially important to consider when dealing with other people. We can have a perspective of them which is totally caught up in the way we believe that they are serving us, or not serving us, rather than taking the view that we are together co-arising in the moment. In fact, our view of them is as much a factor in each others co-arising as some physical factors.

This kind of discovery happened to a friend of mine who recently wrote to me about his practice. His intention was not to be a cause of suffering for others. He had this wonderful intention, and was very aware of it in his day-to-day life. However, one day it dawned on him that this view was based on his idea that he could control the suffering of others. It became instantly clear that this was an ego-based intention. So, acknowledging that error, my friend could take up the same vow but with Right View, the view of the fundamental interconnected, and yet unknowable nature of those he wants to serve. Now that intention can take flight!

 

Looking Backward in the Mirror

This morning, in conversation, I found myself receiving the admonishment of Shakyamuni Buddha. “There is no need to convince another of Right View. Simply conduct yourself in such a manner, and the world will co-create itself according to the Way.” Ahhh yes. The desire to have a positive influence, to leave a legacy, to be seen as offering discernment – these desires are all simply an expression of the ego self. They reflect a wish to protect some small-minded identity that habitually defines the world in a way which is incredibly petty when placed into the real context of a universe of co-created activity. Wow! Thank you to the vehicle of the Dharma, a long-time practitioner who is himself humbly finding a path amidst mind, small and large and beyond measure.

This offering arose in the midst of a conversation about how to have a conversation. Recently I’d been approached by a person under whom I have worked. She wanted to talk about disappointment and an expectation that had not been shared. She was direct, but gentle about it. Still, I hesitated because I feel that once the decision is made and the first steps are taken, it’s a little too late to offer feedback. It’s a bit like asking someone what they think of your new hairdo. Once the hair has been cut, to criticize can only be painful. There’s no putting it back, at least not until it grows out. Asking for input before the haircut is more likely to elicit a constructive response.

So the question arose: what is a skillful way to talk about a state of affairs which you undoubtedly view differently, and which is not likely to be undone anytime soon? And what my friend suggested this morning is to avoid trying to convince the other person of my view, or to show the other person who I am by expressing my view. This is a great reminder about renunciation, in this case renunciation of the view of self. That is to say, he recommended that I not impose my view of myself on the situation, but simply express the experience of it.

In this way, if I can cleanly describe my feelings and thoughts and perceptions and respond to what arises in that moment – not the moment that is already history – then the self that arises is simply a skillful interaction, and can be characterized but what’s seen and heard. This is a very different self than the one that is a fixed view, set up in advance and defended over the course of many interactions. So, for example, if I think that I am a compassionate person, then I must always be trying to say something or do something compassionate, and I am constantly judging myself against this view. I will want to hear feedback from others about how compassionate I am, and I will want to see myself as behaving in a compassionate way all the time.

Looking backward in the mirror – c. PR Newswire and American Broadcasting

But, if I forgo the fixed view of myself, and simply act in a skillful and compassionate way, then I can be authentic in the moment and know that sometimes I will act compassionately and maybe sometimes I won’t. But it doesn’t define me or define the world in relation to me except, perhaps, in retrospect, as the consequences of my words and actions have their impacts. This is like looking in the mirror backwards. If you want to see who you are, “you” can only be defined arbitrarily as an accumulation of activities of body, speech and mind. Even this activity of looking back is not necessary, but it can be helpful as a form of studying the self in order to forget the self.

On the Spot

In Zen practice it’s very common to put people on the spot. For example, when a student is leaving the temple to go to practice somewhere else or to return to a lay life or simply to take an extended rest, there is a “Departing Student Ceremony.”

Scene from "Zen" depicting Dogen as a pilgrim

Typically, the Abbess, Abbott or teacher of the student will thank them for their contribution and ask them a single question. This takes place in the zendo, in front of the entire assembly, who stand at their seats and observe silently. It can be a very poignant exchange, and it’s made more significant by the fact that it takes place in public. Students often express some concern in the days leading up to it. They worry that they won’t find an answer, or that their answer won’t be insightful enough. And yet, this is an activity that is well known throughout the community, as anyone who happens to be in the zendo that morning will witness these events. It doesn’t come as a surprise to the students, and many of the people who have been in residence for years come to appreciate and look forward to these exchanges. It can be a pivotal moment, one which can inform practice for years to come.

In fact, in my own experience, it was during a departing monk ceremony that the seed of a koan was planted. I was leaving San Francisco Zen Center to practice in Japan. My Practice Leader Shosan Vicki Austin asked how I could “eliminate the separation” and I replied with “just this breath.” But, on reflection it occurred to me that there is more to meet than just the breath. So the koan arose, “what is this moment?” It is that which we must meet completely, eliminating the sense of one who breathes and one who observes breathing.

But why the stress? Why do people whose stated intention is to be at ease with their own bodies and minds put each other on the spot like this? I think of it like thumping a melon. You thump it and hear what sound it makes, rather than paying attention to its outward appearance. And when a student is presented with a situation in which they feel some pressure, they learn about how they practice with pressure. That is, they learn whether they’d rather shy away, or burst forth with something funny, or simply stand still when the moment is intense. They may even say something without considering the question or choosing their words, possibly expressing themselves with a minimum of conceptual thought. This is where something other than the ego-self can come forth.

So, in Zen, practice is to put yourself in situations where the immediacy of the moment might allow you to forget yourself, allowing the non-self to be expressed more clearly. At that moment being on the spot is the only place to be.