This is just one more example of why--even with a few differences in approach and interpretation--I still really appreciate Brad-san's wisdom...

Couple of things in the news caught my eye. Last Friday the LA Times had a headline that said, "Some wars keep peace, Obama says." He is quoted as saying, "Part of our challenge is reconciling these two seemingly irreconcilable truths -- that war is sometimes necessary and war is at some level an expression of human beings."

I really liked that statement. Out here in Santa Monica it seems like every third car has a bumper sticker that says, "War is NOT the answer." But the sad fact is that those bumper stickers are not true. War is very often the best solution to complex human difficulties. That is the problem!

If you say that war is never the answer, you're just hiding from the facts. And hiding from the facts isn't going to solve anything. First start from the understanding that -- horrible as it is -- war is the answer many times, then try and figure out why that is and what can be done about it. After we come to truly understand why war works so damn well we can start to build a world where your bumper sticker is true. Wishing everyone could just join hands and sing Kumbaya won't fix a damned thing.

Too many people equate Buddhism with naive pacifism. Of course, Buddhism is all about trying to move humanity toward a more stable and peaceful situation. But it's also about facing the true facts as they are. War is bad. No doubt about it. But if you want to do something to end all war you need to acknowledge that, as things stand right now, wars are all too often necessary.

I wish war would go away too. But wishing ain't gonna cut it.

Yap.

The other thing I've been looking at in the news is all this fuss about Tiger Woods. Twitter contributor Shit My Dad Says quotes his 73 year old dad saying, "I like See's candy. Put me in a See's store, I'm eating candy. The whole world is Tiger's See's store, and the candy is vagina."

The plain fact is that no matter what he did or who he fucked it's really none of our God damned business. He's a golfer, for Christ's sake! What does any of this have to do with golf?

Feh. People are so fuckin' dumb sometimes.

(From Brad Warner's Hardcore Zen blog: Dec 14th, 2009)


 Yapy-deux...

So many people who know me will say they've heard this before. Guess I'm not the only one who thinks zen sucks, and is irritating, yet feels compelled to do it because it's the only thing that seems to work with any consistancy...

So I wake this morning to find not one, or two or even three, but five emails from friends around the world asking me if I'd read Brad Warner's latest SG column, "sa+0ri pr0n". Well, up until this morning I hadn't, no. It's not like I stalk the guy. That's the trouble with affiliations. Everybody (SG peeps mostly) seems to think I am fully up-to-date with his every word. Honestly, even in this day and age with direct 'tube access, I don't follow many people all that closely (unless you're on the Huffington Post). We (Brad and I) corespond via email occasionally, and have been trying to plan a few things together with less-than-grand success. That's my relationship with Brad-san.

But I do read his writing. And I generally respect it, and him. Do I agree with it all? Nope. Do I have certain major issues with some of his positions? Yup. Can he be a pin-head? You bet. Do I think he's an important voice in Western Buddhism and Zen?

Absolutely.

That last one is important. I am a believer in the idea that Zen cannot ever "get old". That's like saying "You think 1 plus 1 plus 1 is three? That's sooooo 'old math' of you..." However, having said that, I DO believe that the language used to bring "three" to the world needs to be kept idiomatically, intellectually and culturally contemporary. Anyone who's studied philosophy for a little while knows first-hand how hard it is to gain a true understanding and grasp of a philosophical concept developed in another language. German is notoriously hard to deal with in this regard, and inevitably suffers a dumbing down when being "translated" (read: butchered) into English. Japanese and Chinese are right up there. The old linguist joke is very true for Sino-Japanese languages (as they share phonemes and and characters [kango]); "Etymology is only an 'n' away from 'bugs'!1"

But I (wildly) digress. What does this all have to do with Brad's latest? Well, two things, mainly. First, I believe that people like Brad are very important to zen, and not only to "zen" but to "Zen". There's been talk and argument for decades about "American" Zen--good, bad and indifferent. Are we destroying Zen by "Westernizing" it? Is Zen anachronistic when practiced in LA or NOLA? Is all that sitting really necessary? Is it a waste for people in the here-and-now to be stitching up roksus and wagesas? And--moreover--are they doing so just to give themselves some warm and fuzzy feeling of being so very "zen"? Voices like Brad-san are important to the establishment of real, true and relevant Zen here in the West. When Suzuki-roshi came to America in the middle of the past century, he knew the importance of doing things in a way that would connect Zen to America (so much so that he outright alienated near the entirety of the then-current Japanese-American sangha of the SFZC while doing so). But Suzuki-roshi understood that he was in America, and it would no more do to try and make local residents understand Japanese than he suddenly understand everything American. All understanding comes with time and practice, intellectually, religiously and culturally, and they can inform each-other, but they could never substitute for each-other, at least not at first. And while Suzuki-roshi knew that the understanding and experience he was trying to convey was universal, the manner in which that conveyance happened was dependent upon him. So he chose to do so in as contemporary a way as possible. For his students that grasped Buddhism effectively, and wanted to experience more of the specific nuances of Japanese Zen, he would readily say, essentially; "Then off to Japan you go". There is no Zen babble-fish, Arthur-san.2 In my opinion, Brad serves close to the same purpose, albeit more as a generational and inter-cultural translator.

And secondly, I believe that in order for Buddhism and Zen to really, truly sink roots deep into this ground--in America--it must be as accessible to as many people as possible right here, right now (get on the decks and cue Fatboy on the "1"3). We have a generation right now that is absolutely lost. We have kids who are more apathetic than I believe at any time in America's history. At the same time, they are more self-actualized and self-realizing than ever before. They want something. They don't have a handle on it, but they're longing for connection. People 40 and younger- Generations X, Y & Z--are hot for something to help them as the arthritis and erectile dysfunction sets in. Religion has failed them and split the nation in two. They want answers.

But a not-insignificant portion of those people are not getting it from Tricycle and Shambala Sun. They see contemporary Dharma-rags as nothing more than slick, corporately shaped hippie hold-overs. We are trying to talk to the 'zine generation from the glossy gate-fold of corporate America, and they're not buying it. People like Brad Warner and Noah Levine understand that you must talk in the language that the audience immediately responds to before you start hitting them with sanskrit and wago. Essentially, you must be willing to say shit, piss and fuck when you mean shit, piss and fuck.

I'll connect this all back to me and Brad-san in the next chapter. I have lawn to go fucking mow in the fucking rain...

1. although that's not strictly true. Bugs require a [-y +o] as well...
2. Cheers, Douglass. A "poof of logic", indeed...
3. Again, another contemporary(ish) reference. See how that works, pops?
   

Sangha friends and other beloved readers,

Recently, a few memes in a number of my discussions groups 'round the great big ol' web have gone back and forth regarding unwanted or unforeseen or painful mind-states arising while doing zazen, either from PTSD, SoMoL ("Stress of Modern Life") or other like issues.

In preparations for something, I had occasion to re-read this section from fellow Blogspotter Brad Warner's second book Sit Down And Shut Up, and I found this to be rather insightful, and I pass it along with the hope and intention that it may at least help some feel less alone when those painful and upsetting mind-states happen while doing zazen.

"Most of my life, I've been a fairly stressed-out guy. But at the same time, I've always had a hard time admitting that. For one thing, I grew up in a middle-class white suburb. I was always under the impression that people from that kind of background couldn't possibly experience real stress. I mean, unless they had, like, abusive parents or a terminal disease or something. My understanding was that true stress was something you got when something seriously awful occurred. Anything else was just a case of being whiny.

"I was wrong, of course. But that's what I thought. So I was never able to acknowledge that the migraines and pizza-face acne I suffered from in my teens and twenties were brought on by stress. At one point, I even convinced myself, incorrectly, that the headaches were the result of an allergy to corn.

"So, seeing as how I didn't believe I could possibly be suffering from stress when I first got into Zen in college, I was not specifically looking for something to help control it. Nor was Zen ever sold to me in those terms. Although you will often see hawkers of various meditation techniques touting meditation as a method of managing stress, you very rarely hear of Zen teachers advising people to take up the practice for that reason. Yet, I think Zen practice may be the most effective way to reduce stress.

"There's a caveat, though. There are techniques that can help really stressed-out people find a bit of calm rather quickly. Zen isn't one of those. It doesn't work the way things like relaxation tapes or self-hypnosis do. In fact, it's pretty common for people to end up getting more stressed-out when they first start Zen practice. Which is why a lot of therapists and even Zen teachers caution against using zazen as a way to cope with stress.

"But that's in the short run. In the long run Zen is a far more through way to manage stress than any of those other techniques. And the reason for this is the same reason that it's a fairly poor way to manage stress in the short run.

"There are times when zazen can make you more aware of tensions you hadn't noticed before. This sometimes leads people to believe that zazen has increased their tension. But it hasn't really. When you do zazen, it's like taking the lid off a boiling pot. All the stuff that's bubbling away under that lid comes rushing to the surface and might even start bubbling over if you don't turn down the heat. By bringing things to the surface, zazen enables you to see very clearly what needs to be worked on. That in itself can be stressful. This is one of the reasons Zen doesn't work as a short-term solution to being stressed. Plus, it's not enough just to see what you need to work on. You've actually got to work on it.

"Other methods of stress management can give you a way to calm yourself down a bit without making any real committed effort to work on the things that are actually causing your stress in the first place. Those other methods are like clamping an even heavier lid on the pot so you can't see what's wrong. But most of us would rather do that than turn down the heat. That's because turning down the heat means turning away from our ego-based sense of self, something most of us take to be the most important thing in the whole wide world" (Warner, 81-83).

Short-form: zazen isn't always a feel-good practice. To Brad-sensi, it's pasta pots. To me, it's often like prying up old pavers. Sometimes you find liberty dimes, sometimes you find slugs, sometimes you find headless melted plastic army-men, and sometimes you find ants swarming instantly all over you. Either way, the work needs to be done in order to smooth out the walkway, no matter what's under the pavers...

-bows-

I find this little blip of Brad Warner in his latest HCZ blogpost spot-on...

I think it's good to visit a number of practice spaces if you can. I've noticed that people who attend just a single teacher's practice often develop a slightly warped attitude (and this includes people who attend only mine, maybe it goes especially for people who attend only mine). I'm not a fan of the practice of running around from meditation center to meditation center picking and choosing the parts you like of each one's practice and rejecting anything that bothers you. I know a lot of teachers out there make a good living offering such cobbled together practices. But I've never seen one of those that had the least bit of value. They're always very nice and completely undemanding. Sweet and useless, like high fructose corn syrup.

On the other hand, it's traditional to visit as many teachers as you like until you find one that suits you. Dogen did this as did a lot of the great teachers of the past. Once you find the right teacher it's best to stick with that teacher even if you don't like everything she or he does or says. The one that suits you won't always be the one you like best. Naturally if they start mixing up cyanide flavored Kool Aid it's probably time to go. But it's not good to jump ship just because certain things bug you. It's good to get bugged sometimes. Often that's exactly what you need. Remember the thing that bugs you is never solely "out there" in your teacher. In a very profound way these are things you create yourself even when they appear to be coming from someone else.

So anyway, it's good to check out other ways of practice and see how they really do things. You'll always be surprised. I know I always am.

So, Brad having said that, I want to expand on a few things.

Finding a good Dharma teacher is one of the core challenges of beginning a Buddhist practice, and it really can be a challenge. It's not like finding a professor you like, a new friend to hang with, or a favorite new author. Honestly, finding the proper sensi, yogi or baba for you is more akin to finding a quality doctor, dentist or therapist (or hell, good auto mechanic!)

But one thing I see far more often than I thought I would is people having trouble with ritual and form between sanghas, and especially as the establishment of that form relates to their dharma teachers. Tres interesting.

I've heard so often from (certain kinds of) practitioners that this or that zendo's form is "too loose", "too formal", "sloppy", "hippy-dippy", "zen-lite", "needlessly complicated", "not authentic enough" and on and on. They will often grouse about it 'mongst themselves, but never bring their opinion to the attention of the shusho, let alone the sensi/roshi. They may even really like the sensi's teachings and manner, but just bristle at certain ideas: we have to do [x] minutes of zazen? What about kinhin? What about bowing practices? Why don't we do it this way, so more people are this way or that? That chanting doesn't make me feel warm and fuzzy. Meh. I'll just sit through it until we get to the dharma talk. At least sensi gets that right...

Well, first off, if you think that the only thing your teacher can do well is speak to you, you probably haven't done enough research in picking a teacher. Of course, the way the teacher communicates his or her ideas or understanding is important, but what many of the "form whiners" aren't getting is that the form is part of the teachers' understanding. Not only part of, but quite possibly the basis for whatever understanding they're bringing to you. That very form is as much a part of the language that sensi is using to communicate their understanding experience to you as the words they use, and here you are, telling them the language they're using is all wrong!

Let's look at this in a slightly different way.

Let's say that I have a special pair of glasses, and because of their special lenses, these glasses have the ability to allow the wearer to see something in a very specific way, not unlike 3-D glasses do. It's very easy to understand that if two people go to a theater and see Bawana Devil, and one wears the specs while the other doesn't, the two viewers will experience inherently different views, even though the primary content will be the same. The glasses, by virtue of those colored lenses, allow the user two things, one that's overt, and one that's more subtle. On the surface, the wearing of the glasses helps people see (generally) the same thing. This is essentially an appeal to the intellect via a few of the senses (most notably, sight). The information (the moving picture) is being conveyed in the manner the artist (the director) intended, so everybody more-or-less comes away with the same intellectual experience. So this relates to the "form as language" analogy above; wear the gear to get the whole message sensi is trying to convey. Now, the more subtle effect is this; the wearing of the glasses also allows for a shared experience in the wearing of the glasses with everyone else in the theater. That's right; part and parcel of the whole 3-D thing is, for lack of a better descriptor, looking like a dweeb with everyone else! It is the shared experience that brings the whole thing together. So, in this regard, you're also doing what everybody else in the theater/zendo/shala did in order to essentially be on the same page as everyone there. Having close to the same experience as everyone else allows for a base of commonality that encourages communication laterally as well as up and down. If not, when asked about the movie, someone would say "Did you jump when the spear came at you?" and the other would respond "Feh! Sean Connery didn't look anything like King Arthur!"

Each sangha, each zendo, each meditation group does things a little differently, and this is typically established by the sensi, leader, organizer, etc. for a number of reasons, not the least of which is simple continuity. So, when it comes to zendo form, and the manner in which your sensi runs the show, take away this from me if anything. It's perfectly alright to experience a number of different forms while investigating Buddhist practice at first. But if you actually want to get anywhere with a teacher, you must have a bit of faith in their form (or at least a faith in the power of form at all) and give the teacher's form a chance to work for you. This takes time, and can easily take years (one should think months at a minimum). If in a year, you still don't connect to their form, then look for a different teacher. It's very easy to be moved by someone's intellect and their ability to speak to you. But Buddhism is an experiential practice, not merely an intellectual one. So give the sensi some time to conect with you on all levels. Think of them as explaining it this way; "This is my form, and is part of the over-all manner in which I try and communicate to you this thing that is nearly ineffable. If we stick to mere language, it will truly remain ineffable. I didn't have just a realization. I didn't merely have an understanding. I had a comprehension. I had an experience of both mind and body. It came under these circumstances, through this form, doing things in this way. I can try and describe what I comprehended to you, but unless you're doing what I was doing, it's pointless. So, if you are coming to me in order to have me teach you how to hit the nail on the head, we'll need a board, a nail and a hammer..."

Pre-conceived notions are the death-knell of Buddhist understanding.

"Already knowing" is the enemy...

...but I've seen the film before, so watch out for that freaky spear!

Brad Warner just posted his most recent SuicideGirls.com piece: Buddhism is not Spirituality, with a bit of an add-on in his personal blog. As usual, he sums up things in pretty tidy fashion, as is his way. But I'd like to take a moment to expand on this idea a bit.

One of the problems with defining "buddhism" is that we are using words. I know that sounds rather dumb. If we don't use words, how do we "define" anything? Decent point. But as is the case with the old carpentry adage: "A new carpenter will only start out as good as their father ever was, because they are stuck using the tools their father left them". These "tools" are meant to be understood as both literal and metaphorical. And so it is with us and language. We have words that we use to convey concepts and bring understanding to issues both broad and specific--overt and subtle. We didn't invent these words, we inherited them. And in the truest "telephone"-game fashion, they often don't mean now what they once did back in the day. Moreover, they often get misused (not unlike my dad's screwdrivers that I re-purposed into chissels, mauls, awls, ninja sais and throwing darts. Sorry, Pa!) So, many words no longer mean what they used to, or convey what they initially intended to. Case in point: "religion".

When we call-up Webster, we get the following:

re·li·gion

Pronunciation: \ri-ˈli-jən\

Function: noun

Etymology: Middle English religioun, from Anglo-French religiun, Latin religion-, religio supernatural constraint, sanction, religious practice, perhaps from religare to restrain, tie back — more at rely.

Date: 13th century

So, the Webster says that the word has something to do with tying, apparently. Kinky. If you look at the word, and use some smartness, you start to understand (as a philosophy professor and mentor once taught me). The prefex "re" means "again" or "do over". "Ligio" means "to attach", and is the same root as the common anatomical term "ligament" (the thing that attaches your muscles to your bones). So, what we really have etymologically is "to re-attach". That of course begs two questions; firstly, "Reattach to what, exactly?" The best I can state this is as my former professor taught me, and is the definition I use, because I believe it encapsulates the entire concept in the most full fashion. "Religion" is a practice that re-attaches you to the ground of your Being; that is, it is a practice that brings you back into connection with the most fundamental, itrinsic and important aspect of your existence.

What about that other begged question? Well, it has to do with the "re" portion of "re-attach". RE-attach implies that we are or have been separated (in our case, from the ground of our Being), and in order to be integrated and whole, a re-attachment is needed. Now, in the case of a diestic belief system, that reattachment is to the god-head. You, through ritual and meditation (prayer), reintegrate with the god-head, and re-attach yourself to the ground of your Being, (which is "god"--the basis of all reality). Makes sense.

But what happens when this is viewed through the lens of the Dharma? Well, in my opinion this still stands up. A Buddhist is most certainly trying to reintegrate and re-connect with the ground of their Being. However, in their case, instead of some anthropomorphized deity, the ground of their Being happens to be nibanna--the understanding, comprehension and direct experience of the mind and body as one thing, in the same way as the consciousness and the rest of the Universe are one and the same. So, in that sense, Buddhism is--indeed--a religion.

But at this point in the understanding, many people miss seeing something else that is implied as well, just one step further back.

Having to re-attach due to separation also implies (insists, actually) that at one time in the history of the Universe and all of reality, we were integrated with the Ultimate. We were perfect. We were attached to the ground of our Being. We experienced no suffering, and were completely and utterly at peace, and one with all of reality. What separated us is beyond the scope of what I want to discuss here, but suffice it to say that a true appreciation of the fact that at one point in time, you were in Nibbana is a pretty stunning revelation. I digress, but only into song...

We are stardust; we are golden. We are billion-year-old carbon. And we got to get ourselves back to the garden.

Damn hippies...

[added:]

And if I told you "spirituality" actually had to do with your breath...?