## ZEN Whether your task demands abject poverty of you or gives you the greatest wealth, you must always remember that nothing, absolutely nothing, ever or anywhere really belongs to you. On the contrary, everything is God’s property, and from his property you receive something only for your actual needs, corresponding to your task. Just as it's a matter of indifference to a canal whether more or less water flows through it, because the water doesn't belong to it, you too must regard everything fate gives you as something that comes to you from God, and something you must pass on. Elisabeth Haich --Initiation YOU CAME HERE EMPTY HANDED. AND YOU WILL LEAVE EMPTY HANDED. WHAT IS YOURS TODAY BELONGED TO SOMEONE EISE YESTERDAY, AND WILL BELONG TO SOMEONE EISE TOMORROW What is this true meditation? It is to make everything: coughing, swallowing, waving the arms, motion, stillness, words, action, the evil and the good, prosperity and shame, gain and loss, right and wrong, into one single koan. #### The cause of all this trouble, Hakuin believed, was that he had ignored the care of his body, mistakenly believing that Zen meditation had to be carried out by the forceful rejection of all worldly concerns. The ideal, Hakuin maintained, is to be neither seeking nor denying the mundane realm. This is true meditation in the midst of activity: raching to his monks, in his letters we can see his great compassion for the layman's problems as well, urging them to practice Zen in their activities. In the same way, Hakuin would chastise his monks for lapsing into "dead sitting" (shiza) and for seeking enlightenment through "silent illumination Zen" PERSONAL MEANING IN ZEN PRACTICE no longer protecting any part of the self, the disciple sits with abandonment, totally unconcerned with the consequences. At this point, the Great Doubt may arise: a still-point of terrible tension in which one gives oneself up to the feeling of nowhere to go. The Great Doubt is not enlightenment, however; it is a stage to be surpassed by the Great Death. Achieved through a negative route, the Great Doubt is a not-thinking that has been restricted until there is nothing left for it to deny. ==Authentic without-thinking, on the other hand, is the source of thinking and not-thinking; it is prior to them and can never be achieved through thinking or notthinking.== In other words, from Hakuin's perspective, realization cannot be achieved by means of a gradual process.** It is a leap. **This is why he places such emphasis on the Great Death as a sudden awakening-the arising of a completely new standpoint outside the not-thinking of the Great Doubt. Let us now investigate the nature of the Great Death in more detail. Zen Master Shibayama writes: A Japanese Zen Master in the Tokugawa period named Shido Bunan had a waka poem: Die while alive, and be completely dead, then do whatever you will, all is good. The aim of Zen training is to die while alive, that is, to actually become the self of no-mind, and no-form, and then to revive as the True Self of no-mind and no-form. In Zen training, therefore, whati most important is for one to revive from the abyss of unconsciousness. Zen training is not the emotional process of just being in the state of oneness, nor is it just to have the ""feeling" of no-mind. Prajna wisdom (true wisdom) has to shine out after breaking through the extremity of the Great Doubt, and then still further training is needed so that one can freely live the Zen life and work in the world as a new man." The distinctions made by Shibayama in this short passage are significant. To experience the Great Death, one must revive from the monistic nondifferentiation of the Great Doubt, that frozen great expanse of ice. To die state of negation Hakuin called the that empty monism is to be born to Recall Hakuin's ex presence. It is important to remember, first of all, that consciousness is reflexive. This reflexivity allows us to be aware of our experiences of emotion as well. Thus, in the intellectual sphere, we are aware following one another--not only in trains of thought but in patterns that when something unexpected and troublesome arises, we naturally inquire into the cause of the situation. Similarly, in the emotional sphere, we recognize that an episode of anger in the morning makes us more likely to be annoyed by an innocuous situation in the afternoon. In everyday life, this means we are apt to make computational error in our checkbook when the mind is on some thing else. Even in such ordinary events, we are also aware of the interrelated patterns of our experience and we often adapt ourselves to them. Recognizing our lack of concentration, for example, we might double- or triple-check the subtraction in the checkbook. The experiencing process itself. How? By disengaging itself contents of experiences that rience wherein the sound of the temple bell precipitated his reab cation. In Dogen's life, we may remember, it was Nyojo's chastis ne of : monk for falling asleep that performed the same function. other masters have experienced the awakening of the Great Death t the sight of a peach blossom or at the sound of bamboo striking , rock. All these experiences involve a direct apprehension of the ensed stimulus, an acceptance that completely fills the individual's consciousness. This description is reminiscent of Dogen's analyses, and perhaps we can best focus on the meaning of the Great Death considering its relationship to Dogen's genjokoan. When frozen within the Great Doubt, Hakuin heard the voice of the Zen Master as if it were coming from afar. In other words, his primary experience was that of the empty stillness metaphorically expressed as the great expanse of ice. Yet, objectively speaking, there was no stillness in things as they were; it was merely a projection of Hakuin's state of mind. There was thus conflict between the phenomenon Hakuin was directly experiencing (the voice) and the consciousness of the icy void projected over it. Clearly, this was not a state of genjokoan, the direct presence of things as they are. The sheet of ice was a delusion clouding the flux of uji ("being. time"). When the temple bell struck, however, and the sound "smashed through the ice," Hakuin became nothing other than the experience of hearing-the-sound-of-the-bell. This was pure presence, the directly experienced genjokoan, the state of without-thinking. In other words, frozen in not-thinking, Hakuin's Great Doubt did not allow any conceptualization to enter consciousness; but this was unsatisfactory. To detach oneself willfully from all thinking, one has to objectify one's own thought processes, and in so doing one takes an intentional attitude toward thought. This means that one has also objectified one's self-one has not yet experienced the Great Death of the ego. When that last residual sense of the self is finally abandoned, however, one no longer takes any intentional standpoint at all. As pure without-thinking, one's formerly empty consciousness is suddenly filled by the simple sounding-of-the-bell. There is no and no bell but rather the hearing of the bell: the apPrehending of perfect genjokoan. This is the pure state of withoutthinking. But Hakuin still erred, of course. As soon as he had his THE CONTEXT OF NOTHINGNESS as Taoism's Nonbeing. It is this wider application of mu which shapes the distinctively Zen context of the person. MU AS CONTEXT OF THE [[ZEN]] PERSON As we saw in Chapter 1, the individual (kojin) in Japan is merely an object selected out of a group; it is independent of all social, economic, and familial relationships. In effect, one is incommunicado with the rest of society. There is no human interaction, indeed no sense of self-esteem since this requires the support of others for reinforcement. When located within a social nexus, how. ever, that individual acquires meaning as a human being (ningen). Through one's betweenness- the relatedness to others and to components of society transcending one's individuality-one has a place in the world, an identity as a person (ningen). Within a specific set of relationships, the person has obligations of respect to those above and obligations of responsibility to those below.? The epitome of bilateral duty has traditionally been the family: the relations between parents and children, husband and wife, older and younger siblings, male and female. Even the relationships between in-laws is governed to some extent by the relative social stature of the families involved. This social identity is stripped away when one enters the monastery or nunnery. Giving up all possessions except those which can be carried in a little box suspended by a strap from the neck, the novitiate is literally given a new name and the head is shaved. (Hairstyle was traditionally a distinguishing mark of aristocratic and samurai families.) One is thus removed from one's former social place; formal ties with the family are broken and the selfdefinition gained therefrom is erased. Suddenly the Zen novitiate IS alone, alone in way unknown in the West, where identity is as much individual as social. The novitiate naturally seeks new struc tures, new parameters to help determine who and what he or she is. In certain respects the monastery quickly fills this vacuum. As in secular frameworks, there is a clear hierarchical order: the Zen Master at the top, followed by a few senior monks in charge of THE CONTEXT OF NOTHINGNESS 40 as Taoism's Nonbeing. It is this wider application of mu which shapes the distinctively Zen context of the person. MU AS CONTEXT OF THE ZEN PERSON As we saw in Chapter 1, the individual (kojin) in Japan is merely an object selected out of a group; it is independent of all social, economic, and familial relationships. In effect, one is incommunicado with the rest of society. There is no human interaction, indeed no sense of self-esteem since this requires the support of others for reinforcement. When located within a social nexus, how. ever, that individual acquires meaning as a human being (ningen). Through one's betweenness- the relatedness to others and to components of society transcending one's individuality-one has a place in the world, an identity as a person (ningen). Within a specific set of relationships, the person has obligations of respect to those above and obligations of responsibility to those below.? The epitome of bilateral duty has traditionally been the family: the relations between parents and children, husband and wife, older and younger siblings, male and female. Even the relationships between in-laws is governed to some extent by the relative social stature of the families involved. This social identity is stripped away when one enters the monastery or nunnery. Giving up all possessions except those which can be carried in a little box suspended by a strap from the neck, the novitiate is literally given a new name and the head is shaved. (Hairstyle was traditionally a distinguishing mark of aristocratic and samurai families.) One is thus removed from one's former social place; formal ties with the family are broken and the selfdefinition gained therefrom is erased. Suddenly the Zen novitiate IS alone, alone in way unknown in the West, where identity is as much individual as social. The novitiate naturally seeks new struc tures, new parameters to help determine who and what he or she is. In certain respects the monastery quickly fills this vacuum. As in secular frameworks, there is a clear hierarchical order: the Zen Master at the top, followed by a few senior monks in charge of Whether your task demands abject poverty of you or gives you the greatest wealth, you must always remember that nothing, absolutely nothing, ever or anywhere really belongs to you. On the contrary, everything is God’s property, and from his property you receive something only for your actual needs, corresponding to your task. Just as it's a matter of indifference to a canal whether more or less water flows through it, because the water doesn't belong to it, you too must regard everything fate gives you as something that comes to you from God, and something you must pass on. Elisabeth Haich --Initiation ### YOU CAME HERE EMPTY HANDED. AND YOU WILL LEAVE EMPTY HANDED. WHAT IS YOURS TODAY BELONGED TO SOMEONE EISE YESTERDAY, AND WILL BELONG TO SOMEONE EISE TOMORROW What is this true meditation? It is to make everything: coughing, swallowing, waving the arms, motion, stillness, words, action, the evil and the good, prosperity and shame, gain and loss, right and wrong, into one single koan.15 raching to monks, however. He also in his letters we can see his great compassion for the layman's problems as well, urging them to practice Zen in their activities. In the same way, Hakuin would chastise his monks for lapsing into "dead sitting" (shiza) and for seeking enlightenment through "silent illumination Zen" (mokusho zen).13 #### The cause of all this trouble, Hakuin believed, was that he had ignored the care of his body, mistakenly believing that Zen meditation had to be carried out by the forceful rejection of all worldly concerns. The ideal, Hakuin maintained, is to be neither seeking nor denying the mundane realm. This is true meditation in the midst of activity: PERSONAL MEANING IN ZEN PRACTICE no longer protecting any part of the self, the disciple sits with abandonment, totally unconcerned with the consequences. At this point, the Great Doubt may arise: a still-point of terrible tension in which one gives oneself up to the feeling of nowhere to go. This is Hakuin's great expanse of ice. The Great Doubt is not enlightenment, however; it is a stage to be surpassed by the Great Death. Achieved through a negative route, the Great Doubt is a not-thinking that has been restricted un. til there is nothing left for it to deny. Authentic without-thinking, on the other hand, is the source of thinking and not-thinking; it is prior to them and can never be achieved through thinking or notthinking. In other words, from Hakuin's perspective, realization cannot be achieved by means of a gradual process. It is a leap. This is why he places such emphasis on the Great Death as a sudden awakening-the arising of a completely new standpoint outside the not-thinking of the Great Doubt. Let us now investigate the nature of the Great Death in more detail. Zen Master Shibayama writes: A Japanese Zen Master in the Tokugawa period named Shido Bunan had a waka poem: Die while alive, and be completely dead, then do whatever you will, all is good. The aim of Zen training is to die while alive, that is, to actually become the self of no-mind, and no-form, and then to revive as the True Self of no-mind and no-form. In Zen training, therefore, whati most important is for one to revive from the abyss of unconsciousness. Zen training is not the emotional process of just being in the state of oneness, nor is it just to have the ""feeling" of no-mind. Prajna wisdom (true wisdom) has to shine out after breaking through the extremity of the Great Doubt, and then still further training is needed so that one can freely live the Zen life and work in the world as a new man." The distinctions made by Shibayama in this short passage are significant. To experience the Great Death, one must revive from the monistic nondifferentiation of the Great Doubt, that frozen great expanse of ice. To die state of negation Hakuin called the that empty monism is to be born to Recall Hakuin's ex presence. It is important to remember, first of all, that consciousness is reflexive. This reflexivity allows us to be aware of our experiences of emotion as well. Thus, in the intellectual sphere, we are aware following one another--not only in trains of thought but in patterns that when something unexpected and troublesome arises, we naturally inquire into the cause of the situation. Similarly, in the emotional sphere, we recognize that an episode of anger in the morning makes us more likely to be annoyed by an innocuous situation in the afternoon. In everyday life, this means we are apt to make computational error in our checkbook when the mind is on some thing else. Even in such ordinary events, we are also aware of the interrelated patterns of our experience and we often adapt ourselves to them. Recognizing our lack of concentration, for example, we might double- or triple-check the subtraction in the checkbook. The experiencing process itself. How? By disengaging itself contents of experiences that rience wherein the sound of the temple bell precipitated his reab cation. In Dogen's life, we may remember, it was Nyojo's chastis ne of : monk for falling asleep that performed the same function. other masters have experienced the awakening of the Great Death t the sight of a peach blossom or at the sound of bamboo striking , rock. All these experiences involve a direct apprehension of the ensed stimulus, an acceptance that completely fills the individual's consciousness. This description is reminiscent of Dogen's analyses, and perhaps we can best focus on the meaning of the Great Death considering its relationship to Dogen's genjokoan. When frozen within the Great Doubt, Hakuin heard the voice of the Zen Master as if it were coming from afar. In other words, his primary experience was that of the empty stillness metaphorically expressed as the great expanse of ice. Yet, objectively speaking, there was no stillness in things as they were; it was merely a projection of Hakuin's state of mind. There was thus conflict between the phenomenon Hakuin was directly experiencing (the voice) and the consciousness of the icy void projected over it. Clearly, this was not a state of genjokoan, the direct presence of things as they are. The sheet of ice was a delusion clouding the flux of uji ("being. time"). When the temple bell struck, however, and the sound "smashed through the ice," Hakuin became nothing other than the experience of hearing-the-sound-of-the-bell. This was pure presence, the directly experienced genjokoan, the state of without-thinking. In other words, frozen in not-thinking, Hakuin's Great Doubt did not allow any conceptualization to enter consciousness; but this was unsatisfactory. To detach oneself willfully from all thinking, one has to objectify one's own thought processes, and in so doing one takes an intentional attitude toward thought. This means that one has also objectified one's self-one has not yet experienced the Great Death of the ego. When that last residual sense of the self is finally abandoned, however, one no longer takes any intentional standpoint at all. As pure without-thinking, one's formerly empty consciousness is suddenly filled by the simple sounding-of-the-bell. There is no and no bell but rather the hearing of the bell: the apPrehending of perfect genjokoan. This is the pure state of withoutthinking. But Hakuin still erred, of course. As soon as he had his THE CONTEXT OF NOTHINGNESS as Taoism's Nonbeing. It is this wider application of mu which shapes the distinctively Zen context of the person. MU AS CONTEXT OF THE ZEN PERSON As we saw in Chapter 1, the individual (kojin) in Japan is merely an object selected out of a group; it is independent of all social, economic, and familial relationships. In effect, one is incommunicado with the rest of society. There is no human interaction, indeed no sense of self-esteem since this requires the support of others for reinforcement. When located within a social nexus, how. ever, that individual acquires meaning as a human being (ningen). Through one's betweenness- the relatedness to others and to components of society transcending one's individuality-one has a place in the world, an identity as a person (ningen). Within a specific set of relationships, the person has obligations of respect to those above and obligations of responsibility to those below.? The epitome of bilateral duty has traditionally been the family: the relations between parents and children, husband and wife, older and younger siblings, male and female. Even the relationships between in-laws is governed to some extent by the relative social stature of the families involved. This social identity is stripped away when one enters the monastery or nunnery. Giving up all possessions except those which can be carried in a little box suspended by a strap from the neck, the novitiate is literally given a new name and the head is shaved. (Hairstyle was traditionally a distinguishing mark of aristocratic and samurai families.) One is thus removed from one's former social place; formal ties with the family are broken and the selfdefinition gained therefrom is erased. Suddenly the Zen novitiate IS alone, alone in way unknown in the West, where identity is as much individual as social. The novitiate naturally seeks new struc tures, new parameters to help determine who and what he or she is. In certain respects the monastery quickly fills this vacuum. As in secular frameworks, there is a clear hierarchical order: the Zen Master at the top, followed by a few senior monks in charge of