Monday 28 October 2013

Zen & Satori


Japanese Acupuncture Newsletter, Phoenix, Arizona
October, 2013


空手把鋤頭                        歩行騎水牛
人従橋上過                        橋流水不流
                                                            傅大士 (Fu Da Shi)

Not carrying anything in hand, yet carrying a shovel (plough).
Walking, yet, riding an ox.
As a person passes over a bridge,
The bridge is washed away, yet the water is not running.

This poem comes close to one of the most famous Koan questions:  What is the sound of one hand clapping?

Thought On Zen:  What Is This?  Part I

When a Zen master asks “What is this?", say, he is pointing at a pencil, how would you answer?  Knowing that you want to say something profound in front of a master and simply saying it is a pencil is not, and knowing Zen denies affirmation and negation and words all together, how do you answer this simple question?  If you say it is a pencil, he will slap you.  If you negate, he will still slap you; asking you to wake up.  Knowing the dilemma, how do you dissolve it and be able to give a Right answer?  The answer lies in the master’s deepest compassion, and knowing why he asks you of this.  Shall I rewrite this question to:  What is This?

When I was young, occasionally, I dreamt about coming to a huge wall after a walk.  The wall extended to infinity, and it was so tall, jumping over it was impossible.  I wanted to see the other side but for a few years, I could not.  But one day I became bit creative.  I imaged the wall would be soft and permeable, so that I could push my body into the wall and reach the other side.  Ever since, the dream has never come back.  My problem was that I had a concept that a wall was hard.  It was preventing me to see the real reality:  that a wall is only hard compared to others (In spiritual realm/reality, it does not exit:  perhaps, I can explain on some other days.).  A child could have solved the dilemma instantly with his innocence.  He would say to me:  “How about a wall was made of candies and cakes, so that you could eat them and made a hole?”  Marvelous.  This is Zen at its best.  We need to drop all concepts and constricts that we have been taught, and start seeing things from a child’s pure innocent point of view.  When we do, we are one step closer to a Zen master’s question.  So how do you answer?  Let me phrase the question this way:  What are you?

“What is this?”  “What is This?”  “What are you?”  If you see a pencil as a pencil, then you need to ask what “Is” a pencil?  Pencil is made out of wood and carbon matters.  But, does the word “pencil” really describe the true nature of its compositions?  No.  A word “pencil” is just a word.  We made it up to expedite smoother and easier communication.  By answering with “yes” or “no,” you prove to the master that you are stuck in the dualistic conceptual thinking mind:  that a pencil must be “this.”  Just like I thought of a wall as always hard.  The master is asking you to drop all preconditioned concepts and see the real for the first time.  When he asks “what is this?”, what he really asking is:  “What are you?”  “Who- and what-you-are,” may be just concepts, not really the true self?  Are you awake enough (or aware enough) to know that you are free of concepts?  An Indian guru may command to cut your head off and ask the same question.  Without a head (or a symbol), what are you really? 

When a Zen master asks you “What is This?”  He is asking you to know “what-you-are” at “This” moment, here and now.  What are you?  Who are you?  What is your true nature?  The dualistic mind can only be broken by the Absolute Affirmation* that we live only here and now, “This” moment.  There is no other time.  (*The Absolute Affirmation is not the dualism:  for it embraces  yes and no and goes beyond.  Perhaps, this, too, I need to explain later.)  How much are you truly aware at “This” moment?

“What is this/This?”  Without any concept of what a pencil ought to be or your self should be, what a Zen master asks is: what are you?  Answer to the question differs from person to person, day to day, and time to time.  But the answer must be spontaneous without any thinking (remember, if you think, he will slap you, and he knows that you have not dropped all concepts:  re-read the above poem and understand.  So, how do you answer?  Remember, your answer must be spontaneous:  there is no room for thinking.  One way to answer could be what you are impressed or attracted today before seeing the master.  If your heart is moved by red roses, an answer could be “red.”  When you see an interesting cloud pattern, it could be “clouds.”  By answering this way, a Zen master acknowledges that you are indeed living in here and now:  no past and future issues such as worries, disappointments, angers, etc. (free from dualism)  You are free from all sufferings because you are paying attention to and living in here and now “every instant.”

When you realize This Moment, then the mirror of the master’s compassion reflects upon your own mirror and becomes one.  Only then, you understand the master’s deepest and ardent compassion.

How do you keep up with this?  One Zen master said:  “Sitting along, on the top of the tallest and the biggest mountain, is this not enough?” (独坐大雄峰/百丈禅師).  Only thing you need to do is to reflect your own mirror to his, at the top of the mountain, unmovable, and you know how to answer:  what is this?

Namaste

© 2013 Dr. Y. Frank Aoi (NM State)/Japanese Acupuncture, LLC

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