Japanese Zen Culture, and American Zen Culture

I wanted to write a bit on this piece I found by Koun Franz on Zen Culture, from my perspective as a guy who's been doing Rinzai Zen practice for more than a couple of decades or so now, and as a guy who's practiced at temples in China, Japan, and the US, although not regularly outside of the US.

I don't think Franz's piece is necessarily wrong, but rather that it's self referential in kind of a way.  The blog Speculative Non-Buddhism might have more to say about this topic from their perspective than I would (but see self-referentiality with respect to them as well.)

Franz writes:

... I’ve noticed, especially recently, that one of the defining characteristics of Zen culture is a tendency to speak negatively about Zen. It’s built in. It’s fashionable. I cannot count how many conversations I’ve heard in Japan in which priests lament the state of the tradition, of the priesthood, of the monasteries. Someone I know once asked her teacher (a very high-ranking and respected Japanese monk in his own right, a teacher of teachers), “Are there any Zen masters in Japan?” He thought about it and replied, “No, I guess not. Well, maybe that guy in…. No, well, no. Maybe not right now.” Older monks love to talk about how the young monks just don’t get it, and the young monks can see that a lot of the old monks seem to be all talk and no action*. Everyone knows that the monastic standards have gone lax — again, there are exceptions, but one doesn’t have to look far to find an authorized training monastery that is a monastery in name only, where even zazen practice is maintained at only the most basic, basic level (once a day, maybe). 

If you’re new to Zen, this may all sound a bit shocking (or just sad), but it goes way, way back. 800 years ago, Dōgen (the founder of the Soto school in Japan) spent a good amount of ink complaining about how Buddhism has gone down the drain, how the people in authority have no idea what they’re talking about. Of course, Dōgen believed that the teachings he had received from his teacher, at least, were authentic; he just felt that he was more or less alone in what he was carrying. 

Some of these complaints about Japanese Zen are absolutely real — I am deeply pessimistic about the trends I see here. But some of this way of talking is also cultural — in a country where self-deprecation is as fundamental as gravity, one shouldn’t be surprised that so few people are prepared to say, “This is the real deal.” I suspect that in his time, a lot of Dōgen’s enemies despised him not for what he was teaching, but for the unapologetic confidence with which he taught it.

First of all, the * in the quoted text references a piece by Noriyuki Ueda-san on Zen in Japan (page 8).   I will make a few comments about that piece, too.  But, as I live in America, and Sweeping Zen has a wish to be somewhat authoritative in on-line Zen matters, I'll deal with them first.

There's a tendency amongst American Sōtō Zen oshos and practitioners to view Sōtō Zen as the Zen and Dōgen as the guy, the authority from which argument can be justified.  It's kind of strange from my vantage point, because from that vantage point Dōgen is not separate from the Buddha or the ten thousand things.  Dōgen was a pretty brilliant guy, but a lot of people want to make an icon out of him it seems to me.

Moreover,  when it comes to the bit about how "Dōgen's enemies despised him not for what he was teaching..." this needs a bit of unpacking because it's a bit oblivious to history.  Dōgen lived during the Kamakura shogunate.  The "official" Buddhism during that period was originally Tendai Buddhism, but Shingon Buddhism was also in Japan for quite a while as well.  However, as Wikipedia helpfully points out, during the Kamakura period other schools started to flourish as well, and the Zen schools arose in part from the Tendai school. 

Moreover, the Tendai school during this time was politically connected to the Shogunate, so naturally Dōgen (as well as Nichiren) wouldn't fare well challenging the status quo, especially, in Dōgen's case, because Zen would challenge the ecosystem wherein Tendai Buddhism was accommodationist with respect to Shinto.  Which is another way of saying it wasn't Dōgen's confidence that was the issue,  but rather the status quo, and Dōgen being the "nail that sticks out."

Next though, let's get to the main point of the quoted text: Is Japanese Zen "in decline?"  I don't know about Soto Zen, other than to say that at Sengakuji, they only have sitting for lay people once a month, and if you go to Sengakuji during a weekday, you'll find that most of the visitors are older people (because, duh, people are working during the day generally).  I'm also told it's a place to go for school field trips. Yet if you go during a weekend, you'll find that yes, there are younger people there. 

(A similar dynamic exists in Chinese temples whether they're more Pure Land or more Zen, though I don't know if schools have field trips to them; I sort of doubt they do.)

As for my recent visit to Engakuji, as I wrote elsewhere,  there were scores of practitioners, many beginners on the Sunday on which I visited.   That temples like Engakuji are also tourist meccas makes it somewhat wrong to me to conclude that Rinzai Zen is dying out in Japan faster than the decline of population of Japan in general (though that's a serious issue.)

And to me, the very question of the "decline of Zen in Japan" is irrelevant.  Why oh why, in a practice which purports to be one "not founded on words and letters, but pointing directly to one's mind," is so much verbiage spent on "whether they're doing it well," and "is it in decline?"  It seems to me to go there in thought is to self-confirm the decline itself! 

Moreover, even though the narrative of Zen in America as a reboot of "real" Japanese Zen, was definitely a narrative that was used,  it seems to have been problematic to even make that narrative as it was a bit of a case of adding another head to one's own.

I don't entirely disagree with Franz, but I would offer that the way Rinzai Zen has evolved in Japan (and its presence in Korea as well) has been "tuned" so that this non-reliance on words and letters and direct pointing to the mind is kind of baked into the practices in my experience, despite the variations from temple to temple and school to school.

Don't get me wrong; there are indeed mediocre oshos in Zen schools, and there are still the real history of scandals in the US, especially in Rinzai Zen in the US.  But that doesn't indicate a "decline of Zen practice" in either Japan or the US. (For some reason, probably because it's an example of what I'm trying to point out, but for whatever reason I want to note that although I didn't understand the teisho given at Engakuji except for words here and there, the osho who gave it gave it in such a way that various sections of it were chanted, and done with great energy.)

With regard to Ueda-san's piece, yes, there's such a thing as Funeral Buddhism in Japan, and because of Funeral Buddhism, there's a critical view of Japanese Buddhist clergy amongst Japanese.  That is definitely true.  But that's more an issue with Japanese culture than Japanese Buddhism actually.  There is so much that Japanese culture has evolved through that they've kind of forgotten how Japanese Buddhism - and Japanese Zen Buddhism in particular informs their culture.  And in those areas I'd cite: 

• The way Japanese use personal space - and space in general - compared to other cultures
• The way in which Japanese language tends to avoidance of conflict, and promotion of the "flow" of conversation
• The continued existence of Japanese arts related to Zen

But at the same time there have been trends in their culture that have stifled growth (via excessive bureaucracy)  and trivialized aspects about life.  There's a place for trivializing aspects of life, of course.   But the kind of thing I'm trying to talk about here you can see at Sengakuji: Lord Asano's death was avenged by having his antagonist's head placed upon his grave at Sengakuji.  In the museum you can see the receipt they got for giving back his head.   Even then, Japanese culture required receipts for such things. 

In addition, I should note that Funeral Buddhism in Japan is closely tied to the Confucian notions of family;  families having ancestral burial grounds going back ten generations is not unheard of, to say the least, so that kind of bakes in a necessity of Funeral Buddhism culturally.

And finally, all of that said, we in America, whether convert Buddhist or Buddhists by ethnic heritage have our own problems, and one answer to those problems is to transmit Buddhism with and without words in our daily lives.

It's very difficult as Japanese might say, but still must be attempted because of endemic suffering.

Is a 公案 a "trick question?"

Brad Warner, back from a retreat, wrote a blog entry, in which, describing shikantaza (只管打坐 ) he says,

Being in Dogen’s lineage, the folks up at Tassajara practice shikantaza style zazen, just as I was taught by Tim McCarthy and Gudo Nishijima. It’s propless meditation. There’s no goal to the practice. There are no mantras to recite. There are no trick questions to answer. Nobody tells you you’re doing it wrong. Nobody asks you to assess the relative success or failure of your meditation afterward the way they often do in other Buddhist lineages. You just do it and then do something else. But you keep on doing this pointless thing and years later sometimes, if you’re lucky, you notice the point to it. Which is precisely that there is no point to it. And, goofy as that sounds, it makes perfect sense.

Now, maybe it's me, but I detect a teeny tiny bit of boasting here, and a teeny tiny bit of passive-aggresiveness, in not naming the specific other practices to which he is obliquely referring. 

There's actually a lot in Brad's post on which to comment on, and I might have another post on the role of belief in ritual.

But back to the point of this post.  I think it might help to clarify, though I've written before, just what kōanzazen (公案座禅)  is, and how it compares with 只管打坐.

Now first of all, yes, I suppose there is a wrong way to do 公案座禅, and that is to try to give an answer that attempts some discursive approach to the 公案.  But I'd find it hard to believe that this happens a lot in 参禅.  The reason I find it hard to believe is you're in a zendo.  If someone in a Rinzai zendo hasn't figured out that this isn't about finding a narrative but being awake and in the world - showing up - well they probably took a wrong turn at Albuquerque.

The "answer" given in the 公案 is an expression of the student's "understanding" ("apprehension," not in the fearful sense may be a better word [On edit: even "understanding" and "apprehension" are pretty inadequate, here because of a presumed subjective/objective relationship between the student and the 公案, but thankfully I put quotes there])  and being in the relation of the Relative and Absolute, that relationship certainly doesn't lend itself  to discourse in a conventional sense. In 参禅 the "point" of feedback from the oshō ( 和尚) is to help the student drop the discursiveness and deepen the answer.   And similar to 只管打坐, there is no technically right or wrong answers per se, because the student will do what the student does. So no, Brad, there's no real trick questions per se in 公案座禅.

So in this sense it's somewhat similar to  独参, except for the fact that there's the 公案 and there's the watō (話頭), which I and others have written about elsewhere (e.g., here.)

I suspect that there may be differences as well, and at least in my case, those differences tend to militate in favor of 公案座禅.  Some Rinzai folks have said one of the issues with 只管打坐 is it may be possible to become complacent in one's practice.  The Soto folks can and do answer that one, and usually the answer is about using dokusan (独参) to spice up practice or something like that.  But I think the difference can be viewed in another aspect as well: it's not about complacency that might be an issue for 只管打坐, but rather I can't see how 只管打坐 trains one necessarily to be responsive,  that is, I don't see how it trains one  to realize moment to moment  this:

事存函蓋合    Phenomena exist; box and lid fit;

理應箭鋒拄       principle responds; arrow points meet.

I'm sure the Soto folks have an answer for that,  but I'll let them answer that.  I will say that this particular point as caused lots of colorful literature to exist on the Rinzai side, that's for sure.  But I'm not convinced the Soto response is completely adequate here. One of the things my teacher mentioned a while back is the relationship between Rinzai zen and martial arts, and the fact that there was the closest affinity between Rinzai zen compared to other schools.   Although he mentioned this within the context of breath practice,  I have found it goes much deeper than that.   That is to say there's not a great deal of difference between the issues I see in 参禅 versus when I practice 詠春券, and those issues are the issues I need to continue to bring to the totality of my life. 


But that's just me. Your mileage may vary.

Practice and Going Medieval Legally

I could write about that Tibet stuff a lot.  I'm reminded of the movie Words of My Perfect Teacher It's valuable viewing; I highly recommend it, especially as it deconstructs- while upholds respectfully - certain notions in Tibetan Buddhism.

The movie has Steven Segall in it.

But that's not what I wanted to cover today...

I want to give a wag of the finger to a couple of things, in the parlance of Stephen Colbert, who, to my knowledge, is not a tulku. 

First, I'd like to give a wag of the finger to Eido Shimano.

Look, dude, you know the "brand" of the Zen Studies Society is inevitably bound up with the brand of "Eido Shimano," and that brand recognition has fallen on somewhat hard times, especially with Myoshinji's distancing itself from you. 

Brands have value whether it's Coca-Cola or Rinzai Buddhism. It would be great if Rinzai Buddhism  had an infinite value, but trust me, it can be valued, just as the assets of any other corporation can be valued.  So the "value" of the brand of the Zen Studies Society will directly affect its ability to, you know, pay you a "pension."

It's absurd for you, Shimano-san, to think that you or ZSS are "preeminent" or some such thing...if you've got to say that you know, ...you're not...

I would assume that legal folk wrote or vetted Shimano's letter, and I am concerned the Eido Shimano/ZSS affair is going to probably divert substantial assets to lawyers.  So a wag of the finger to them if they are not taking this case pro bono. 

More importantly than finger wagging though is the issue of practice.  It can be difficult to practice when subpoenas are flying about.  Is this what your Zen is about?  I remember you once said, that if you practiced and after 10 years there was no benefit "you could cut my head off." I don't remember that much else from the few times I went to the Zen Studies Society.  I do remember upstairs tea on a Saturday...but not much else, other than quite deep rigorous practice, as much provided by the sangha as by anything else. I remember your prostration. 

That said, I don't want,  don't need, and probably most everyone who's ever been to the ZSS/Dai Bosatsu centers don't want and don't need legal notices aimed at them.  My relationship to ZSS/Dai Bosatsu is tangential at best.  I don't expect a subpoena frankly...but having been subpoenaed about other issues, and having given a deposition, let me just say that it's very stressful, and unless I'm being compensated at the rate $175/hour or more, plus expenses, I don't want to be involved, and for $175/hour or more, plus expenses,  I'll likely testify that regarding the mid-1990s, when I attended ZSS/Dai Bosatsu a few times,  I've forgotten most everything.   So please don't drain the assets of the ZSS or Eido Shimano trying to get me to say something damnable. Everything that can be said by me is in this post. There you have it.

But there is one more thing I ought to add that I do remember: it wasn't widely known in the mid-1990s to anyone who walked in off the street to ZSS that Eido Shimano was the subject of scandal.  I didn't know it, and if I had I likely would have gone to another practice center...but I ultimately did go to another practice center anyway because the "teacher" was more accessible. 

I mean, a guy who attended ZSS a few times, such as myself, didn't get sanzen from Eido Shimano.  I did get sanzen from Shugen Arnold, but they were the guys downtown (at the time), not affiliated with ZSS.

All of which is to say that I don't wish to be contacted regarding any aspects of the Shimano affair, and I'd hate to have to lawyer up myself, to go to the mattresses legally speaking, to have my life interrupted by this.  I don't expect to be contacted, but things I didn't expect to happen have happened. 

And if going medieval legally is what Eido Shimano's practice is after all these years, I don't think it's worth even a cheap Yukio Mishima imitation.

The "struggle" to "maintain spiritual beliefs": Who's struggling? What beliefs?

A few tweets....

Jan. film club is American Mystic, about the struggle to maintain spiritual beliefs in a world that doesn't share them. tricycle.com/filmclub
— Tricycle Magazine (@tricyclemag) January 17, 2013

@tricyclemag Not really sure what that has to do with Buddhism, at least of the Zen variety.
— 無門　Mumon7 (@Mumon7) January 17, 2013

@mumon7 Lots of American Buddhists find themselves practicing quietly bc family, etc. don't understand. Plus, it's a cool movie!
— Tricycle Magazine (@tricyclemag) January 17, 2013

Well, where to begin?

I saw their blurb for the movie, which I'd actually see under certain conditions which aren't particularly relevant to the point of this post.  They're not relevant because I'd want to see the movie to find out who the characters are in this documentary.

But the original tweet is what got me... a Buddhist journal, one of the prestigious ones, is, to raise money, if I'm correct,  showing a film "about the struggle to maintain spiritual beliefs."

For quite a few years I practiced Buddhism before I told family.  My mother's reaction was interesting; at first she said "Are they a cult?"   People are people even if they're Scientologists, even if they are  in a cult, or if they think they're not in a cult. 

I was hearing a dharma talk podcast by Genjo Marinello on a bit from Rinzai. (I'm going to be lazy today and render the Japanese versions of the names solely in romaji.)  He was reading a text that mentioned Sekkyo. My version of the story:

Guy later referred to as Sekkyo comes up to Baso with an arrow. He says to Baso, Any deer 'round here?" Baso says, "Who are you?" Sekkyo, traipsing all over the place with a bow and arrow goes for the obvious: "A hunter." Baso says, "Any good with that stuff?" Sekkyo, again stating the obvious says, "I have to be; I'm a hunter." Baso says, "How many deer can you kill with one shot?" Sekkyo replies, "One deer for one shot." Baso says, "Then you're not much of a shot. "Sekkyo says, "Do you know how to shoot?" "Yep," Baso replies. "How many deer can you shoot with one arrow?" "The entire herd with one shot." "But since they're all sentient beings, why kill them all?" Baso replies, "If you get that much, why don't you shoot yourself?" "How can I do that?," Sekkyo wondered...

Marinello reads this as about the value of life...there's more to the story, but that's what I've put up on Facebook primarily because I was struck by Sekkyo's and  Baso's understanding of what it is to hunt, and what it is to kill.  There's folks I know that I would love to be able to transmit that understanding.    My point is that the ideas of "spiritual" "beliefs" never enter here.

Here's a translation of the relevant passage from Rinzai:

Master Sekkyô‘s teaching was quite unique. He searched for a true person with the tip of an arrow, and all the students who came to see him were terrified.

As for this mountain monk‘s way today, it is genuine creation and destruction, playing freely with spiritual transformations. Entering all kinds of circumstances, wherever I go, I am unconcerned (buji). The surroundings do not affect me. When people come to seek the Dharma, I welcome them, immediately discerning their state of mind. But they don‘t recognize me. Then, I deliberately wear different robes. Students create their own interpretations and get drawn to my words and phrases.

What a pity! Blind idiots! Seeing the color of my robe, they notice it as blue, yellow, red or white. Then, when I take it off and enter the state of purity, they see me and become filled with delight and desire. When I relinquish that, too, they are at a loss, and run around crazily, asking where my robe is. Then I ask them, "Do you know who it is who is changing the robe?" Suddenly they turn around, and recognize me.

Virtuous monks, don‘t acknowledge the robes. The robes cannot move by themselves. It is the person who wears the robes. There are many kinds of robes, such as the robe of purity, the robe of the unborn, the robe of bodhi, the robe of nirvana, the robe of the patriarch, the robe of the Buddha. 

Virtuous monks, these names are none other than a change of robe. The breath coming from your ocean of vital energy brings your teeth and tongue into motion, thus expressing words. Clearly know that those words are like phantasms. 

Sekkyo's search for a true person succeeded, or so  I've read (and Marinello relates), when one of his students in sanzen 　(参禅 ) when confronted by Sekkyo's drawn bow, replied something to the effect of opening his robe to reveal his bare chest and stating, "Well, that arrow can take life, but do you have one that can give life?"

There's a struggle, to be sure, to engage folks who are simply not using the data, so to speak, who are untutored in the 4 noble truths, etc. But it is not a struggle of belief in any way.  It's a struggle of engagement, of practice.

Of course, they are simply wearing different robes; we have robes they have never even seen, let alone put on. 

It's a hard lesson, because it's easy to express in ways that won't do a damned thing to make the situation better, that don't arise from seeing the 10,000 things that were just right to bring this arrangement of aggregates together to bring to the mind such phenomena. 

Looking at the gun ownership situation in the US, it's easy to engage the other side from a place where their minds won't be changed.    Moreover, the questions and issues put forth in Zen-land are probably quite frightening to these folks not using the data:  YOU WILL DIE! No matter who much firepower you pack and no matter where you pack it, and no matter against whom.  AND YOU ARE NOT SEPARATE FROM ANY "CRIMINAL" !

In response it's possible you'd get an attempt at a witty retort chortle past the graveyard, and a subject change. 

But they're still folks who've never seen the wardrobe, so all those words and images are like phantasms.

And of course, I'm not separate from any criminal, gun extremist, etc. etc. and neither are you.   But the Great Matter of Life and Death will neither be resolved with firearms nor is in any way relevant to per se, save as yet more aggregates, phenomena, etc.

Regarding  the extremists, thought, I just wish they'd consider how they appear, though...wish they weren't so fearful. 

On Myoshinji disavowing Eido Shimano

NellaLou got the story a few days ago, and I'm just now catching up with it, or I should say, I'm expanding a bit on the comment I made there. It has to do with a rather oddly timed statement from Myoshinji stating that successors of Eido Shimano aren't connected to Myoshinji.

I agree somewhat with the comments of Carol Spooner:

I find it pretty disgusting that they allowed American Zen students to believe otherwise for several decades. Pretty damn cynical in my view. In addition, Shimano had a very public transmission ceremony from Soen Nakagawa Roshi, with many Japanese priests and officials in attendance. In addition, there were many Japanese priests and officials in attendance at the opening of Dai Bosatsu Monastery. There is reason to believe that Soen Nakagawa Roshi ever officially “registered” Shimano’s transmission in the record books at Myoshin-ji — for whatever reasons he may have had. But no one told the students here in the US. To the contrary, they actively participated in making Shimano look authorized and genuine. Bah! I say. Bad form.

As for this having far reaching implications for much of the US Rinzai world, I really don’t think so. Much of Soto Zen has already disconnected from the Japanese temples, and no longer registers their priests there. American Zen will stand or fall on its own feet, IMO. Whether it’s the death knell of ZSS and Dai Bosatsu Monastery, maybe. They made much of their Japanese connections in the past. But there are several independent Shimano Dharma heirs who have split from him, both recently and over the years, who maintain Zen Centers of their own without needing the support or recognition from him or from Myoshin-ji.

I think it does have implications, at least as far as legitimacy of teachers is concerned.  As it happens there are other Rinzai teachers in the US,  and they are not Sasaki Roshi or his successors, either.  (And it begs the question, will Sasaki's "home branch" in Japan make similar statements at some inopportune time in the future?

But...it reminds me of a larger point, and one that is not often mentioned in American Buddhist circles.

Sometimes, sometimes, organizations deal with "problem people" by assigning them to places far away from where the action is, far from where they could do noticeable damage to the organization.   This is common in many governments and corporations.  The Catholic Church was notorious for doing this, and not only in the child molestation scandal; google "Diocese of Partenia" for a telling example of how how the Catholic Church responded to progressives in its ranks of bishops fairly recently.  Did Soto and Rinzai organizations in Japan do this?

I am sad to say it would not surprise me if this were the case, but then again I'm not entirely certain how these organizations are run.  If this were the case it is as bad a decision to have had people assigned this way as it would be in any organization with people who are notably really problematic.  That is to say, such things are ticking time bombs. 

I tend to see why Brad Warner tends to be critical of the official Soto-shu hierarchy in Japan, and statements such as those from Myoshinji don't exactly put a harmonious and consistent view towards what is legit teaching and what is not.  That is certainly problematic.  But it may ultimately help things; maybe it will help demystify all the hoopla about succession, and such, and get people paying more attention to what really matters. I hope so. Life's rather short.

Creationism, god, and Soyen Shaku

Barbara has more patience than I do, at least when it comes to reading the Huffington Post. They have become so woo-filled-for-the-purpose-of-executing-an-AOL-business-plan that I rarely read them anymore, even when they publish an insufferable creationist. But Barbara offers a pretty good reply here, so I don't have to, really. And I suspect you could go to my former posts about "intelligent" "design" to rebut the pseudo-scientific garbage Lurie is putting out regarding evolution. But I thought I'd get to the bit where the creationist, one Alan Lurie,invokes Soyen Shaku.  Barbara writes:

Rabbi Lurie supports his claim about Buddhism with a quotation from a Rinzai Zen teacher named Soyen Shaku -- "Let me state that Buddhism is not atheistic as the term is ordinarily understood. It has certainly a God, the highest reality and truth, through which and in which this universe exists."

So what about this? Soyen Shaku (1860-1919) became the first Zen teacher to set foot on North America when he traveled here to speak at the World Parliament of Religions in Chicago, 1893. He returned in 1905 to give some lectures. It appears he did not speak English and relied on translators, one of whom was D.T. Suzuki.

So it's possible something was lost in translation. It's also possible that Soyen Shaku believed he had to say something affirmative about God so that his audience didn't turn against him. Also, Soyen Shaku didn't say anything about a "guiding consciousness."

Now it turns out that one need not speculate too much about all of this, and Barbara's right that Soyen Shaku said nothing about a "guiding consciousness."  But in fact you can read then entire text of Soyen Shaku's Zen for Americans, in which the quote appears here, and it is pretty apparent from its style that D.T. Suzuki did in fact do the translation (or at least someone who was well versed with Suzuki's writing style did).  So I think the credit to Suzuki for translation is accurate, especially because it reveals the erudition of the scholar Suzuki was.  The chapter on "god" in Suzuki's book is here.  And this work went off-copyright decades ago, thankfully.  Suzuki translates Soyen Shaku as:

...Again, Buddhism is not pantheistic in the sense that it identifies the universe with God. On the other hand, the Buddhist God is absolute and transcendent; this world, being merely its manifestation, is necessarily fragmental and imperfect. To define more exactly the Buddhist notion of the highest being, it may be convenient to borrow the term very happily coined by a modern German scholar, "panentheism," according to which God is πᾶν καὶ ἕν (all and one) and more than the totality of existence.

One of the most fundamental beliefs of Buddhism is that all the multitudinous and multifarious phenomena in the universe start from, and have their being in, one reality which itself has "no fixed abode," being above spatial and temporal limitations. However different and separate and irreducible things may appear to the senses, the most profound law of the human mind declares that they are all one in their hidden nature. In this world of relativity, or nânâtva as Buddhists call it, subject and object, thought and nature, are separate and distinct, and as far as our sense-experience goes, there is an impassable chasm between the two which no amount of philosophizing can bridge. But the very constitution of the mind demands a unifying principle which is an indispensable hypothesis for our conception of phenomenality; and this hypothesis is called "the gate of sameness," samatâ, in contradistinction to "the gate of difference," nânâtva; and Buddhism declares that no philosophy or religion is satisfactory which does not recognize these two gates. In some measure the "gate of sameness" may be considered to correspond to "God" and the "gate of difference" to the world of individual existence.

Now, the question is, "How does Buddhism conceive the relation between these two entrances to the abode of Supreme Knowledge (sambodhi)?" And the answer to this decides the Buddhist attitude towards pantheism, theism, atheism, and what not.

To state it more comprehensively, Buddhism recognizes the coexistence and identity of the two principles, sameness and difference...

Thus, according to the proclamation of an enlightened mind, God or the principle of sameness is not transcendent, but immanent in the universe, and we sentient beings are manifesting the divine glory just as much as the lilies of the field. A God who, keeping aloof from his creations, sends down his words of command through specially favored personages, is rejected by Buddhists as against the constitution of human reason. God must be in us, who are made in his likeness. We cannot presume the duality of God and the world. Religion is not to go to God by forsaking the world, but to find him in it. Our faith is to believe in our essential oneness with him, and not in our sensual separateness. "God in us and we in him," must be made the most fundamental faith of all religion.

Suzuki/Soyen gets a bit too anthropomorphic in the succeeding text, and I am pretty certain that this is done to introduce Buddhism to an audience that "knows about" a western god.  Suzuki/Soyen's emphasis improves a bit here:

As I mentioned before, Buddhists do not make use of the term God, which characteristically belongs to Christian terminology. An equivalent most commonly used is Dharmakâya, which word has been explained in one of the sermons herein collected, and it will not be necessary to enter again upon the discussion of its signification. Let us only see what other equivalents have been adopted.

When the Dharmakâya is most concretely conceived it becomes the Buddha, or Tathâgata, or Vairochana, or Amitâbha. Buddha means "the enlightened," and this may be understood to correspond to "God is wisdom." Vairochana is "coming from the sun," and Amitâbha, "infinite light," which reminds us of the Christian notion, "God is light." As to the correct meaning of Tathâgata, Buddhists do not give any definite and satisfactory explanation, and it is usually considered to be the combination of tathâ = "thus" and gata = "gone," but it is difficult to find out how "Thus Gone" came to be an appellation of the supreme being. There are, some scholars, however, who understand gata in the sense of "being in" or "situated in." If this be correct, Tathâgata meaning "being thus," or "being such," can be interpreted in the same sense as Tathâtâ or Bhûtatathâtâ or Tattva, as explained below. But in this case Tathâgata will lose its personification and become a metaphysical term like the others, though it has been so persistently used by Buddhists in connection with the historical Buddha that it always awakens in their minds something more concrete and personal than a mere ontological abstraction.

 It should be understood that this concrete realization of the Dharmakâya only happens when difference and sameness are...um...co-aware, or co-realized to invent a term - but they are already, sort of.  But as Suzuki notes here, this ontological abstracting is distracting.  But read the whole of Suzuki/Soyen, it's well worth the time.  However, it should be clear that this "god" of Suzuki/Soyen is not a monotheistic creater deity: the identity of sameness/difference, is dependently originated.  The most problematic text in Soyen/Suzuki then is:

We must not, however, suppose that God is no more than the sum-total of individual existences. God exists even when all creations have been destroyed and reduced to a state of chaotic barrenness. God exists eternally, and he will create another universe out of the ruins of this one. To our limited intelligence there may be a beginning and an end of the worlds, but as God surveys them, being and becoming are one selfsame process. To him nothing changes, or, to state it rather paradoxically, he sees no change whatever in all the changes we have around us; all things are absolutely quiet in their eternal cycle of birth and death, growth and decay, combination and disintegration. This universe cannot exist outside of God, but God is more than the totality of individual existences; God is here as well as there, God is not only this but also that. As far as he is manifested in nature and mind, they glorify him, and we can have a glimpse of his image and feel, however imperfectly, his inner life. But it will be a grievous error, let us repeat, to think that he has exhausted his being in the manifestation of this universe, that he is absolutely identical with his creations, and that with the annihilation of the world he vanishes into eternal emptiness.

The best way I can reconcile this text with what I know about Buddhism, though is that Dharmakâya, being co-existent with the difference world, as it were, (or Absolute and Relative), have the relation that Relative disappearing with Absolute remaining is kind of like considering the number A, and dividing A by 0. That is, the concept of whatever the Absolute is without the Relative is pretty much outside the discourse of things in Buddhism, just as A/0 is not within the discourse of finite mathematics.  We can use identifiers to connote a sequence of numbers leading to "A/0" but the term "A/0" itself is not usefully defined in finite mathematics.

To put it another way, this is why I'm a largely atheist Buddhist: the notion of "god" in the sense that Suzuki/Soyen writes here just isn't useful for everyday operations - and within Buddhism the point is the realization and effective execution of the identity of Absolute and Relative for all beings right here.

And so Barbara's right: Suzuki/Soyen's notion of "god" isn't what theists call god.  I think in our day and age the term "god" is not very useful to apply to Buddhism, for at least the reason that using "god" here means that Buddhism can be extracted by theists for their own purposes (and I think Brad Warner's book is going to be similarly problematic, but I hope to enter things there.)

I think it is unfortunate that Suzuki/Soyen did not see that there would be people who would misuse his text here, but that happens.  One other quote from Zen for Americans I might throw in here, where Soyen/Suzuki is replying to a Christian critic, comparing the Christian Jesus Christ to the Buddha:

Nor has Jesus Christ attained to the calmness and dignity of Buddha, for the passion of anger overtook him in the temple, when he drove out with rope in hand those that bargained in the holy place.

How different would Buddha have behaved under similar conditions in the same place! Instead of whipping the evil-doers he would have converted them, for kind words strike deeper than the whip.

The same could be said for other monotheistic characters as well.

I have more useful things with which to blog, namely how the practice of Wing Chun really is developing, at least in myself, improved abilities for dealing with people that I didn't even know I needed. And how does that square with the NY Times discovering that mixed martial arts is the "Yoga for Young Men?" I hope to get to that stuff over the weekend.

On Chanting

I generally don't do that many posts about practice in the Zendo.  I generally don't do it because I've found others' material to be sufficient for me. 

But oddly enough for the life of me, I can't find right now exactly what I'm looking for.

I recently finally read one of Brad Warner's books, Sit Down and Shut Up.  I also don't read a lot of so-called modern teachers' books, for the simple reason that I haven't gotten through the older teachers' books first, and most of what I'd read of modern teachers seems, um...recycled?  I don't mean that in an accusative way, but rather it more or less duplicates what's already there.  Consider this the review of the book I'd been meaning to do for a while: Sit Down and Shut Up is, despite its meanderings, in many ways a better book than Zen Mind, Beginner's Mind. Yeah, it is, for what both purport to do: explain Zen in the Soto flavor to a modern audience.  By that I mean that its linear structure, humor, use of the Japanese language characters, etc. make the practice for more well explained than Suzuki did.  It also benefits from the lack of a section of how the poor author had died and was such a great master that...yada yada yada.  Warner's a "slob like one of us,"  who had the  fortune of being from a part of Ohio I'd bet people in Ohio joke about.

It also occurs to me that a Rinzai version of this genre ought to exist too.   Maybe it already does; maybe it might need to exist in some form on this blog, but from a lay person's perspective.  Seriously though if you want to read about what Zen (Soto-flavored) Buddhism is, Warner's book is pretty good and pretty knowledgeable.  I've some differences with him here, and there, but they're relatively minor.  So consider this an endorsement of that book from yours truly.

 Anyhow, where was I? Oh yeah, chanting. Barbara of the White Plum tradition has this to say on ritual:

Rituals in Buddhism are a upaya, which is Sanskrit for "skillful means." Rituals are performed because they are helpful for those who participate.

Of course, if you are new to Buddhism you may feel awkward and self-conscious as you try to mimic what others around you are doing. Feeling awkward and self-conscious means you are bumping into your delusional ideas about yourself. Acknowledging those feelings and getting beyond them is vital spiritual practice.

We all come into practice with issues and buttons and tender spots that hurt when something pushes them. Usually we go through our lives wrapped in ego armor to protect the tender spots. But the ego armor causes its own pain, because it cuts us off from ourselves and everyone else. Much Buddhist practice, including ritual, is about peeling off the armor. Usually this is a gradual and gentle process that you do at your own pace, but you will be challenged to step out of your comfort zone at times.

She then points to James Ford, (from within the Soto/Sambo Kyodan traditions) who says:

These rites are the family form of this community. Daido Loori, our cousin in the dharma, tells us how "generally defined, liturgy can be considered an affirmation or restatement of the common experience of a community." He explains how "all of Zen’s rites and rituals are constantly pointing to the same place, to the realization of no separation between the self and the ten thousand things. Zen liturgy is upaya, skillful means. Like zazen and all the other areas of our training, it functions as a way of uncovering the truth which is the life of each one of us."... It is our tradition to chant it in a Sino-Japanese form, a liturgical language created by pronouncing Chinese words in the Japanese manner. Here we find ourselves letting go of the meaning, and just chanting. Taizan Maezumi explains something of this. This quote is a little long, but it's helpful. Maezumi Roshi tells us:

Chanting is an effective means of harmonizing body and mind. Chant with your ears, not with your mouth. When chanting, be aware of the others who are also chanting. Blend your voice with their voices. Make one voice, all together. Chant not too high, not too low, not too fast, not too slow. Take your pace from the senior practitioner, who will take the initiative. Chanting should not be shouting. When a person chants like that, he chants as if only he exists and no one else, which is not so. Always adjust yourself to the others, rather than expecting them to adjust to you. Then there is harmony. Chant as though each syllable were a drop of rain in a steady shower. It is very mild, consistent, and sustained.

Chanting functions the same as all of our practices in Zen. On one level, we can see that the sutras we chant have their own content; they mean something. Some, like the Heart Sutra for example, are especially concise and packed with deep meaning. But again, apart from the texts, the act of chanting is in itself an absolute practice, simultaneously expressing and creating an inner state of consciousness. And as we chant together and hear each other chanting, we are helped further in joining our minds. This is harmony. This is practice together.

See what I mean about existing authors being "sufficient?" Well, I take that back, because I think there's things to add to this:

• In this chanting, it is not, despite appearances, an invocation to anyone or anything separated from those chanting. It is not like a Christian invocation to a deity "out there" but rather to that which is far more immediate.
• That being said, the chanting does point to a metaphysical assumption, namely that the Buddhas and Bodhisattvas and ancestors being invoked are immediate, and are not entities entirely separate from those doing the chanting.   This assumption I do not find unreasonable however.   These chants and rituals came from somewhere, conditioned by conditions that brought about their arising.  My hearing and my chanting of myself with others, brings us at least in part with the mind of many ancestors of my lineage in exactly the same way as a good chi sau ( 黐手, or "sticky hands") presents to my consciousness the mind of my sifu and his ancestors.  That's pretty damned intimate.
• Rinzai chanting is different somewhat from the Soto flavor, as I touched briefly upon in this post a while back. In particular, there's more ki (qi, or 気) emphasis through breath in our chanting. It makes it more physical.  It's actually one reason I'm more drawn to Rinzai practice, at least as it exists in the US.
• It need not be said, but I'll say it anyway: Korean, Vietnamese and Chinese chanting are different than the Japanese forms, and tend to be more "musical" than the Japanese forms.  That sort of fits with those temples' approach to Buddhism (even Zen/Chan Buddhism) as being more rococo, or more colorful than the Japanese counterparts.
• Much of what's been written in this regard might seem to be an apology for That Which Clearly Has Supernaturalist Origins, as a way to bring in the supernatural through a back door, so to speak. I'm sure PZ Myers thinks that way.  But if Myers has been to the theatre (or a movie) or a musical performance, I wonder if he seriously thinks that those performative acts are invoking the Muses. No actually I don't; nobody save for a few out beyond the fringes fundamentalist monotheists seriously thinks that performance is "demonic."  
• More to the point, Myers would do well to read at least some modern language theorists, who are sort of pointing in the right direction here. One J. L. Austin said, according to Wikipedia, that

  A "performative utterance," Austin argued in How to Do Things With Words, cannot be said to be either true or false, as a constative utterance might be. It can only be judged either "happy" or "infelicitous" depending upon whether the conditions required for it to succeed have been met. In this sense performativity can be said to investigate the pragmatics of language.

  Now I take some issue with the "happy" or "infelicitous" part of that (that's pretty limiting, isn't it?), but the basic direction here seems right: the point of the performance as performance is not necessarily to be "right" in the same sense as a physics lecture's content is correct (though a good physics professor is quite a performer). But even a lousy physic professor's teaching performance in no way invalidates his content. The purpose of the content of Zen Buddhist chanting is to point to the Fundamental Point, the Original Face, and the performance as chanting is to realize and express that.
• Finally, there's a point that I think every teacher I've read has simply not seen, or forgotten, or perhaps they're inherently for more enlightened than I can ever hope to be and don't even need to make the pont.  When chanting in this foreign "language" the syllables don't have the cadence and structure of English (or for that matter, Japanese or Chinese, or even Pali, now that the Chinese Japanese ancestors have had their way with these things).  It takes real mindfulness to focus to Chant the East Asian forms of the Great Compassionate Dharani correctly just as it takes takes a great deal of mindfulness to use a sharp knife correctly.  I remember the first time I chanted it, now over 20 years ago- the thought that popped into my head was, "Ah, it's a  tongue-twister! How clever!" It brings about a more mindful state because you'll trip over yourself, vocally, that is, if you're not paying attention.

OK, that's my bit on chanting. It's just my few words; again, do your own homework.

What is"Zen" anyway?

And, is Zen the same thing as zen?  Ah, I won't touch the second question here - I'll use both interchangeably.   As for the first question, I suppose you could go to Wikipedia or Google or something and get a variety of answers.   But I thought on this blog it might be a good idea to explore the question here.

There's a blog - The Worst Horse - that devotes quite a few bits of storage to the notion of finding examples where Buddhist terms and imagery, including "Dharma," "Zen" (or is it zen?),  Buddhas, etc. are used for commercial gain or pop culture. (His latest entry on electric butter lamps, though, is an amusing misfire: There's a whole host of Chinese and Vietnamese (and probably other ethnic groups') temples that actually use electric lighting as "candles" and other lighting on the altar.) 

There's also - I found this out this week - a foundation called "Urban Zen" which is apparently associated with charitable activities, and some forms of meditation and yoga. 

Is that Zen?

As a guy who's been doing this for a few years, I'll quote from a link that is apparently writing  from the (now scandal-retired) Eido Shimano Roshi:

A special transmission outside the scriptures;
No dependence on words and letters;
Direct pointing to the mind of man;
Seeing into one's nature and attaining Buddhahood.
Bodhidharma

The special transmission of Zen is the realization of the Buddha's enlightenment itself, in one's own life, in one's own time. This experience has been realized by Zen students and confirmed by their teachers for over 2500 years.

Central and indispensable to Zen is daily Zazen practice. It is this practice that is the "direct pointing to the mind of man." Zazen melts away the mind-forged distances that separate man from himself; leads one beyond himself as knower, to himself as known. In Zazen, there is no reality outside what exists here and now. Each moment, each act is inherently Buddha-nature. While sorrow and joy, anxiety and imperturbability cannot be avoided, by not clinging to them we find ourselves free of them, no longer pulled this way and that. With this self-mastery comes composure and tranquility of mind, but these are by-products of Zazen rather than its goals.

Zazen is a Japanese term consisting of two characters: za, "to sit (cross-legged)," and zen, from the Sanscrit dhyana, meaning at once concentration, dynamic stillness, and contemplation. The means toward the realization of one's original nature as well as the realization itself, Zazen is both something one does - sitting cross-legged, with proper posture and correct breathing - and something one essentially is. To emphasize one aspect at the expense of the other is to misunderstand this subtle and profound practice.

It's kind of interesting to me that Shimano (presumably) phrased it this way, especially since folks like Hakuin, Suzuki Shosan and others (I'm Rinzai, mostly) emphasized that the practice should take place in the midst of activity as well as on the zafu.

And in that activity - whatever the activity - if "done right" there is practice.  Though I would profer that being a corporate raider and causing suffering, or being a mass murderer or (insert any other time of person who does a heinous act) and such can't be practicing when they're being greedy, hateful or ignorant.

This "special transmission outside the scriptures" of which Bodhidharma (presumably) wrote is the transmission of this activity - in the same way that  詠春 (Wing Chun) or 書道 (shodou - Asian calligraphy) or yoga or playing the violin or learning to live peacefully with people who grate on your nerves is transmitted via experience outside of writing and words.  And this "direct pointing  to the mind of man" is the mind that just does these things, and does them for the benefit of all beings.

I've no idea whether or not the realization of the mission of the  Urban Zen Foundation really is that kind of Zen or not.  But I do know practice is bigger than that.  And that practice is realized by the cultivation of skill required to actually help all beings.  Their heart seems to be in the right place (that's a lousy phrase, but you get my drift), but I must admit that my reaction on seeing some of their stuff is "Nice charity work...some New Age oddness...but is this trivializing Zen practice?"

I could be wrong.

I'm not really in Donna Karan (benefactor of the foundation)'s target demographic (must avoid linking to a Bill Hicks video on marketers...oops too late).  As an engineer who's now in his 50s, I've developed an esthetic about clothes that kind of excludes that sort of thing, without getting into details.  OK, I'll put in one detail: clothes should fit, be easily maintained and last nearly forever.  They should be kind of a cross between whatever the heck the Shakers would produce if they were around to make clothes in these times and if you had your own tailor.  Oh, yeah, and they shouldn't look outrageously "different" in terms of matching one's social demographic.

Sorry for the digression.

I don't know if the kind of Zen done by "Urban Zen" is or is not the kind of Zen I aspire to incorporate into everything I do; neither do I know what kind of Zen or practice anybody else on the internet does/is or does/is not do/is.  Eventually I suppose it all points back to my practice - what kind of Zen am I practicing?

A lot of people will tell you a lot of things about a lot of topics on this here internet.  Kick the tires; do your homework...especially on yourself.

Patheos and the True Person of No Rank...

Have you ever had the fortune to meet one, or have you  at least  met somebody who's at least had a modicum of success trying to attain no rank?

It is hard because a lot of folks kind of like the rank, even if the rank is pretty meaningless.  Some people like the rank of being Buddhists so they can set that in opposition to some kind of straw-man "scientist."  (And some scientists like to point out that some Buddhists...)

Some folks want to be called European-descended, or Asian-descended, or don't care to be bothered that there are European descended or Asian descended...and amongst the two categories just mentioned there's a host of other sub-categories, too...(Asian? What kind of Asian? Laotian? Japanese? Nepalese?)

I could go on.  The "No Rank" in the title of course doesn't refer to the deliberate blindness to difference; it refers to the not making a big deal out of difference where it exists.  Sogen Roshi could make a 心 that could dance off the paper; mine ain't gonna be within a light year of that for this lifetime, perhaps. Perhaps not.  But vendors still sell me the paper and ink.

Assuming Rank or being blind to difference can cost you in the business world; I know of more than one manager who soured his relations with a company by not treating the very junior guy who met him with a modicum of respect. I can't remember how many times the gaijin　(外人) made a presentation to the locals assuming they were smarter, more capable, etc. than the  日本人 to whom they where presenting.  Deals have been soured because  vendors have perceived the customer as "Other" or because they became just a bit too aggressive and assumed to much of the customer.

All of which is to introduce - briefly - why I find the whole thing about Patheos more overblown than not, and  not because of the "Asian Thing." (What kind of "Asian?" Tibetan? Chinese? Is that a distinction or not?)  But because its kumbayasity is also creating a rank where none need exist.  The people who might ban the practice of Buddhism in the United States or fly planes into buildings or launch drones into places where they might kill innocent people aren't going to take the stuff at Patheos seriously.  Yeah, they won't take my blog seriously either; you got that right.   But I don't really pretend that it would; like I've said numerous times, the purpose of this blog is to more or less help in the struggle of memory against forgetting, and as a kind of practice in itself.   If somebody reads this and figures out that that they can still suck at 99.9% of what they do and perhaps improve, today, this moment some 0.01% of their life, perhaps in that moment their lives and the purpose of this blog can be made worthwhile.  And sometimes, - heck perhaps often - despite what this Ph.D. says,  it is profoundly difficult work of vital importance to change that 0.01%. (Kierkegaard was right - sometimes somebody's got to come around to make everything difficult.)  

I think the mission of Patheos is doomed to failure because it takes its "mission" too seriously to include that which would pop its bubble of inclusive self-righteousness.  Patheos's mission limits itself to the point where it excludes the very real fact that some folks are going to be jerks on the highways, including but not limited to yours truly on a bad day.  It excludes Kyle the Reformed Buddhist (sorry Kyle, but the "Men's Right's" movement reminds me too much of the He-Man Woman Haters Club to be taken seriously, even though I will grant that there are real issues with presumputions of the law and unequal treatment of gender that does give men the short end of the stick at times.)  It might include me; in fact I'm sure it would, but the reality is the work and the reward and the fun and the true changes that can be made are elsewhere for me.  I wish the folks at Patheos well, but when the Buddhist folks move en masse to the Next Big Spiritual Place (can the Huffington Post be far away?) well, re-read this.  Not to say the Patheos folks might not do some good, but as long as the on-line sutras and other stuff are elsewhere, I've no real need to poke around there very much.

Turns out Zen is about Buddhism

NellaLou has a great post on the continuing saga at Madhushala, and hits all the right notes, in my opinion, about Merzel and what his Sangha and Board should do.

But in writing about that, and  doing some stuff at work related to my company's business as well as searching for temples in which to visit in my upcoming trip to China this summer, I became aware of a few things, not all of which appear to be immediately related to the subject at hand, at least at first:

1.  I was still wondering why this Rube Goldberg financial structure existed that to the casual visitor's mind, conflated "Big Mind" with "Kanzeon Zen Center." It was, I think, clear enough in retrospect: "Big Mind" served as Genpo Merzel's way of introducing "Zen-like" things into non-Buddhists.  It would  end up  to be a case of the tail wagging the dog here.
2. Ditto for this "Integral" stuff:  It still appears - to me - that this whole "Integral" thing is nothing more and nothing less than a clumsy attempt to try to "make Buddhism better" by blending it with pop-psychology and New Age woo. 
3. In Southeastern China, there is a plethora of Zen temples; some of which are undoubtedly brand spanking new (like the one in North East China I wrote about in 2009) but many of which are remnants and regrowth of the original temples. And there's an obvious reason for the original temples and the growth of Chan in this part of China if one thinks about  the realities of that part of the world: Guangdong, Fujian, Zhejiang, and Jiangsu provinces are a melting pot of dialects/languages, more than a few of which are not mutually intelligible in any meaningful degree; look up each of the places on Wikipedia if you want more information about that.  If ever there was a place that needed a doctrine of "no reliance on words or letters" it was this place.  And if there was any place here that was "the right" place to see Chan Buddhism in China, it would be here. But exact temples and locations might not matter all that much, eventually; it was the practice itself that mattered. 
4. Introducing Zen Buddhist concepts to non-Buddhists is not in any way an easy task facilitated by "dialogues" with other "gurus" or creating meta-concepts in order to "bridge" or "transcend" ideologies.  It took Japan over a thousand years to come up with the concepts of Ma ( 間) and Wabisabi (侘寂 ) - not to mention the application of Zen to the martial arts the like.  And they're still struggling with what kind of a culture they want to have!

All of which is to say that Zen Buddhism is about the cultivation of skill of Buddhism.  It took folks a long time to figure out a whole bunch of things related to how we live, including, but not limited to why it's good to boil water, how to get to eat rice, vaccines, karma, how much sleep to get, and 10,000 other things.  Ditto for how to cultivate the skill of Buddhism. And we have to practice it, even when it's painful or not what we "like" or what others "like."

It is true we take vows in Mahayana Buddhist to save all beings, but we do that through living our own mundane little lives which briefly flicker in this place in the blink of the blink of an eye in the life of this small speck of iron in an unfashionable part of the Milky Way galaxy.  And there are no shortcuts in our own little mundane lives. If there were, we'd be cutting out the profundity of it all along with the mundaneness.

Zen Buddhism is about the cultivation of skill of Buddhism. That means that our lives are crafted by us, slowly but surely, imperfectly, impermanently, and surely incomplete.  As NellaLou points out, there is an infusion of doubt (and I'd also add faith) in this.   This skill may be passed to others in the way a craftsman passes his skill to an apprentice; in the same way it's folly to think that one can pass the gist of any highly refined skill to just anyone without emphasizing that diligent training is needed to be able to make any fruitful use of skills.

Temples and sanghas are good of course, but there's a time and a place  for everything, and if the "sangha" in question is more devoted to something that goes against the way in which a life is rightly to be lived, it's time to re-examine what that sangha is all about, just as in finding "the" historical temple of Chan Buddhism overlooks the Much Bigger Thing.

It's the 45th annniversy of his death, not the 55th

But otherwise, this article in the Japan Times on D. T. Suzuki is well worth reading. I am amazed at how great his influence was - I am impressed that Abraham Maslow, one of the bright lights of the more human ways of organizing workers of the twentieth century, was influenced by him, according to this article.

The postwar era marked the heyday of American Freudianism and its humanistic offshoots — and Suzuki, teaching Zen Buddhism at Columbia University in the 1950s, was at the epicenter of creative psychological thought. Only months before Horney's death in 1952, she accompanied Suzuki and colleagues on a tour of Japanese Zen monasteries and emphasized the importance of his notion of "whole-heartedness" as a vital feature of mental health. Fromm became close friends with Suzuki, and in 1957, sponsored him as a guest speaker for a conference on Zen and psychoanalysis held in Cuernavaca, Mexico. Several years later, the two coauthored an influential book on this topic; like many others, Fromm was greatly touched by Suzuki's personal warmth and kindness.

Abraham Maslow, guru of motivational psychology, was another humanistic thinker inspired by Suzuki during these years. Maslow, who pioneered in studying what he called "peak experiences" — that is, sudden moments of joy and meaning — was excited by Suzuki's concept of sono-mama or suchness, as an element of mystical awareness. Sponsoring Suzuki's lectures at Brandeis University, Maslow also regarded Suzuki's Zen teaching of muga, or total absorption, as vital for a psychology of well-being and growth.

It is an historical irony, though, that Suzuki had much less impact on Japanese psychology than on its humanistic development in the U.S. and Europe. Why so? Because during the postwar years, Japanese psychologists were eager to establish their field as a rigorous experimentalist science, akin to biology, and looked askance at philosophical or spiritual thinkers. As the Jungian scholar Dr. Shoji Muramoto of Kobe City University of Foreign Studies comments, "Unlike in the West, Suzuki's relevance to modern psychology has hardly been appreciated in Japan outside of a few journal articles. Nevertheless, he was perhaps the first Zen philosopher to deal with Zen as an object of academic study in its philosophical basis and psychological aspects, as well as its history."

After retiring from Columbia University in 1957, the elderly Suzuki returned to Japan, where he kept up an active, international schedule of writing, attending conferences, lecturing and receiving awards for his lifetime achievements.

Until his death in 1966 at age 95, he influenced a new generation interested in the relevance of Eastern thought — particularly Zen Buddhism — for contemporary civilization. For instance, his writings on Zen meditation later contributed to mindfulness training for health care professionals as a valued therapeutic tool — and now sponsored by dozens of medical schools in the U.S. and elsewhere.

As Suzuki astutely saw, the world was hungry for Eastern spiritual wisdom. His final words? "Don't worry. Thank you! Thank you!"

My wife and I spent Rohatsu Evening with Leonard Cohen

I am deeply grateful to my wife, my son, the wonderful people who let my son sleep over with his friend at pretty much the last minute, and everyone else important and unimportant, and of course to the Man himself and his wonderful accompanying musicians for what was one of the most amazing concerts I'd ever attended.

The event was billed as, "An Evening with Leonard Cohen," and even though we were in the (2/3 allocated and filled) Rose Garden Arena, even though we were, as you'll see, in the "nosebleed" section, even though we had to struggle to get to our seats in the clouds, I feel as though I really did get to know the great singer, poet, and Rock and Roll Hall of Famer better than I'd ever "known" anyone else at any other concert to which I'd gone.  Mr. Cohen is 76 years old, and though the show was highly staged (all these things are nowadays), I can't believe what a rip-roaring good time I had - I felt privileged to get to see him before he passed away.  Mr. Cohen acknowledge this himself when he said, "I don't know when we'll pass through here again, but tonight we'll give it all we've got."  And they did.

If you can in any way see this while you can, see it while you can.  I was overwhelmed with the grace and humility of the man and his singers and musicians.  Moreover, it was one of the nicest crowds of people I've ever been, one of the most courteous and good-natured audiences.  It was amazing to think this man - who must have had the thought himself - was performing tonight on a night when years ago he himself was undoubtedly in sesshin himself.

Just amazing harmony all throughout.  Here's a (bad image quality) video.  Sorry if  you think the classic guitar solo's too long; I got it just as it started; the song "Who By Fire" follows the solo.  The sound I hope makes up for it.

I believe that song was originally adapted from a Yom Kippur prayer, but it's Buddhist import is obvious.