Ox Herding

Go to Hell, Make Zen Center!

The great Korean Buddhist teacher, Zen Master Seung Sahn, would go to into any situation to help others. This great "try mind" brought him to some of the most difficult places in the world.

Of course, the most difficult places in the world cannot be located on a map. These places, known as hell-realms in Buddhism, exist in our minds. Mostly, we keep these places hidden, both from others and from ourselves.

But the work of Zen practice is to go to hell. And when we do go there, as Zen Master Seung Sahn says in this video, make a Zen center!

Please enjoy today's video:

Thank you to Mu Sang Sunim, who produced this video many years ago!

Have a great weekend!

Thorns, Everywhere

The 8th century C.E. Indian Buddhist scholar Shantideva said:

One can never remove all the thorns from the world, nor cover the entire world with leather to make it seem less thorny. However, by covering one's foot with a leather sandal, it is as though all the world has been covered with soft leather, and all thorns removed.

In this famous passage, Shantideva teaches that while we can never eradicate the challenges of our life, we can work within ourselves. We can cultivate a mind that approaches the world with love and generosity.

But Shantideva's metaphor troubles me. Is the point of Buddhist practice to "cover" the thorns of our life? To hide away the difficulties? To risk desensitization with soft leather? 

The Korean Zen master, Jun Kang, once ended a dharma speech by observing, "Thorny jungle everywhere."

Could we somehow embrace the thorns and make use of them? Could we not turn away?

What could lead us to walk naked into Jun Kang's thorny jungle?

Photo by tree-species

Zen Poems

Ken Kessel, a Ji Do Poep Sa (Dharma Master) in the Kwan Um School of Zen, writes poems when he leads Zen retreats. 

Poep Sa Nim writes these poems between interviews with students and then gives them to the student during the retreat. 

He told me that "each poem is a poem for one retreatant, and the order of the poems is the order that they happened to come to the interviews." For publication, he removes the students' names.

Here's a short selection from a retreat held at Cambridge Zen Center on June 14-15, 2008, published here with Poep Sa Nim's kind permission:

Eyes know

Ears know

Why ask how?

Bird in tree

Worm in bird

Check out the sky

Check out the ground

Check out your feet

Check out that sound

Check out that doorknob

Open the door

Close it behind you

Check out the floor

In universal

China shop

Even the bull

Can move

Universal sound

Deafens ignorance

Raindrops on the roof

Sirens in the street

Lightening

Has no tail

Piercing

Sky to earth

Then

A hush

Photo by Anthony Thomas   

Coprophilia

This is turning out to be the topic of the month. 

Susann and I recently watched the wonderful movie about the Zen teacher, Edward Espe Brown, entitled How to Cook Your Life. In the movie, Brown repeats an old Zen saying:

If you have a little piece of shit on your nose, everything stinks!

 

What can we make of this old saying? Maybe we think that if we can just get the shit off, for once and for all, then we'll enter a state of purity where everything smells wonderful. Maybe we think this is the work of Zen . . . to become pure!

Or maybe we can recognize that shit continuously appears on our nose, non-stop, because we put it there. 

Human life is a messy affair. There's no getting around it. 

So -- maybe -- instead of striving for some imagined purity, we could all become really excellent sanitation workers. 

Because, before we can turn our lives fully toward others, we need to clean up our stinky selves. After all, who would want to be around someone with shit on their nose?

Here are some questions that come up for me, when I consider my own stink:

• When I look into the really difficult situations in my life, why is it so hard to see my own role?
• How can I sustain the process of wiping up the mess, over and over and over? 
• Why is it so hard to admit that, for a long time, purity has been the goal of my practice?

Photo by Queen Roly (Jenn)

Ox Herding Pictures

Several people have rightly wondered why a blog entitled, "Ox Herding," doesn't provide access to the famous Ox Herding Pictures (sometimes called the Ten Bulls). Mea culpa!

The Ox Herding Pictures serve as a metaphor for the quest for enlightenment. Although Zen teachers had described the mind as an ox as early as 800 C.E., the pictures themselves may have originated during the 12th century in Sung Dynasty China, a period during which Zen teaching was consolidated and codified. A set of verses that expand upon the images was written by the Chinese Zen master, K'uo-an, a teacher in the Lin-chi lineage.

In Asia, the ten Ox Herding Pictures are usually painted around the exterior of a temple building. This set of photographs shows a recently-painted set of the pictures at Mu Sang Sah, a Zen temple in Korea that accommodates lay and monastic students from around the world.

Here are links to several familiar renderings of the Ox Herding Pictures. As you view these images, you will note that they are not consistent. In some sets, the enso, or Zen circle, is the final image. In other sets, the student (now an old man) enters into daily affairs with generosity and compassion.

This set was painted in the 15th century by the Japanese Zen monk Shubun. The images are said to be based on 12th century originals by the Chinese Zen master Kakuan. (Scroll down the page to see the full set.)

This set was painted by Yakoo Tatshiko in the early 1990s.

This set is the earliest-known Japanese version, dating to 1278 C.E.

This set looks as though it was created by a  Chinese artist, but there is no attribution.

This set also looks Chinese.

This set looks quite modern to my eye, but has no attribution.

This set, painted with great energy by Master Gyokusei Jikihara in 1982. He is a master calligrapher and Zen teacher in Japan. This version speaks most richly of the vigor and excitement of this quest.

The image-sharing site, Flickr, has three wonderful interpretations of the Ox Herding Pictures by contemporary artists.

This set, created by James Breslin, offers a deeply personal version of ox herding.

This set, created by an unknown artist, is strikingly beautiful.

Finally, this set, by Damien Crowe, breaks with the traditional iconography while remaining true to its intention. It's my favorite of all the versions. Enjoy it!

For a discussion of the Ox Herding Pictures by a modern Zen master, see this talk by Zen Master Ji Bong.

Outside Job, Inside Job

Not long after I started Zen practice, I asked a Zen monk, Mu Sang Sunim, what his life was like. He replied that monastic life was much like any other kind of life. Then he said that human beings have outside jobs and inside jobs. 

Our outside jobs are all different. Some of us work as carpenters, others as therapists, cooks, programmers, students, letter carriers, and so on. Some of us work in the day, others at night.

But, as Mu Sang Sunim told me many years ago, every human being has the same inside job:   to attain enlightenment and help all beings do the same.

This teaching has stayed with me because it points to the possibility of merging outside and inside jobs into a lifelong calling. 

Not two, not one -- just:  How can I help? In Zen, we refer to this view as our direction. It's how we orient our intentions and actions.

Of course, this raises questions for me, and perhaps for you, as well:

• In what situations do I separate my spiritual practice from my outside work? 
• What gets me out of bed every day? Why do I eat?  

Photo by Bill Stilwell

Shoshaku Jushaku

Shunryu Suzuki, Roshi, used to say shoshaku jushaku, "Life is one continuous mistake!" 

This phrase, which originated with Dogen Zenji, translates literally as "to succeed wrong with wrong."

How could it be otherwise? We stand on a rapidly spinning ball. How could we not constantly stumble? Our precious life on this precious planet involves slipping and falling. It's in the code.

I spend so much time trying to avoid mistakes. That's a worthy effort, I'm sure. But, since mistakes are part of our nature, perhaps I could spend equal time cleaning up after myself.

Zen Master Seung Sahn used to say, "When you shit on yourself, wipe it up!" That's good advice. But don't hold onto the stinky toilet paper! Flush it away and get ready for the next poop.

Because as long as we're alive, shit is going to arrive. Shoshaku jushaku.

If you'd like to make more mistakes, consider the following questions:

• Do you expect that your life could ever be something other than shoshaku jushaku?
• What do you do when you make a mistake? 
• In what circumstances do you hold onto the toilet paper? 

Photo by NASA 

Manipulation

My teacher said today, "Manipulation of perception is the worst kind of violence."

You might join me in considering:

• In what ways do I manipulate others' perceptions of me?
• Can I perceive the suffering this produces? 
• Why don't I care? 

Nothing Ventured, Nothing Lost

A couple of days ago my friend Steve sent me this passage from The Dhammapada:

Someone once asked the Buddha skeptically, "What have you gain through meditation?"

The Buddha replied, "Nothing at all."

"Then, Blessed One, what good is it?"

"Let me tell you what I lost through meditation: sickness, anger, depression, insecurity, the burden of old age, the fear of death. That is the good of meditation, which leads to nirvana."

Our minds naturally tend toward acquisition. We seek more of everything: more food, sleep, sex, reputation, and material comfort. 

But it takes only a moment's reflection to realize that not-enough mind can never assuage the fear of death or the insecurity and burden of old age. Given that, 

• Why do we resist sitting down to daily meditation practice?
• What do craving most drives your life? What's behind this craving?

Source: The Dhammapada

Photo by are you my rik?

Raku Buddhas

What does Buddha look like to you? How does Guan Yin take form in your mind's eye?

Different cultures depict enlightenment in different ways (see the Theravada and Mahayana representations of Avalokitesvara discussed earlier in this blog).

Because Buddhism has only recently come to the West, we've not yet found a uniquely Western way of representing these beings.  Most Buddhist centers simply purchase an Asian statue. Perhaps some of us have taken liberties with traditional forms in home altars. But few of us have the artistic talent and skill needed to re-envision the Buddha.

This is changing. Artists such as Mayumi Oda have stretched the traditional iconography in wonderful new ways.

My long-time dharma friend, Anita Feng, has practiced Zen for 30 years. Despite this, she has remained a highly creative artist, using pottery and poetry to find new expressions for the old ways.

About a year ago, she began making buddhas and bodhisattvas out of clay, firing them using the Japanese raku technique. These remarkable figures, with their iridescent and crackle glazes, convey the supple vitality of the enlightened mind. I've shown a few of them in this post.

I encourage you to visit Anita's online store, Raku Buddhas, to see more of these wonderful statues. Prices begin at $15 -- which baffles me, given the quality of the work. Enjoy!