UnMind: Zen Moments With Great Cloud

Welcome once again to UnMind, the podcast of Great Cloud, my Zen name, also published on Substack, and as my DharmaByte in the newsletter of the Silent Thunder Order (STO) - visit www.STOrder.org. Please let me know if there is a subject you would like to hear about in a future segment. We are pioneering a creative, collaborative approach to establishing true Zen community (Skt. sangha) in the USA. We invite you to come aboard the raft. If you are in the Southeast, visit www.aszc.org for our schedule. "Excuse Me My Dear Aunt Sally," in case you are unfamiliar with the expression, is a mnemonic I learned in high school for remembering the proper sequence of arithmetical operations to be performed in solving quadratic equations: solve the exponents first; then do the multiplication; then the division; the addition; and finally, any subtraction called for. If you do not follow this sequence exactly, you will not get the right answer. Setting aside for now the question of what may be the larger point of getting the right answer, as well as the question of the potential arbitrariness of the "givens" of any equation — i.e. the initial values attributed to "x" and "y" — XMDAS provides an analogy for the process of solving any problem, from a design-thinking perspective. Let's look at each of the five steps, one at a time. From writing a book to simplifying our life, it works. Determining what value lies under the radical in an exponent (X) is roughly analogous to defining the reason for pursuing any problem, whether in a professional setting or in everyday life. "What's it all about, Alfie?" or "What's the meaning of this?" as my grandfather would sternly demand, when we were caught roughhousing, in my younger days. He didn't realize what a profoundly central question he was asking. I find myself at the intersection of Zen and design-thinking, when confronting the various aspects of daily life. Zen practice and the discipline of design-science, as one of my many mentors, R. Buckminster Fuller, termed it, are both generalist worldviews oriented to a problem-solving mentality as an approach to navigating the challenges of life in our times and developing the specialist skills necessary to that endeavor. Key to finding the best solution to any problem is developing the best definition of the problem. In the professional context, working for the benefit of a client company, the first step may involve redefining the client's own definition of the problem they are asking you to solve. One of the values of using outside consultants is that they ostensibly are not subject to the same tunnel vision of insiders, though of course they may be hindered by another sort of tunnel vision. The process outlined is meant to mitigate against this. Returning to and redefining the focus of the initiative is a crucial part of the process. It should be noted that someone writes down the ideas on a whiteboard for all to see. The second step, doing the multiplication (M), is likewise analogous to brainstorming, engaging in the uninhibited free association of any and all factors that may have a role in developing the final solution to the given problem. This is where thoroughness and lack of prejudging come into play. Best done as a form of playful "What-if" scenarios. The third, division (D), correlates roughly with sorting the various free-ranging comments into groupings or categories of related items, like the familiar "One of these things is not like the others" theme from Mister Rogers' Neighborhood. The fourth, addition (A), suggests fleshing out the various distinct categorical groupings with other items that may not have occurred to anyone on first consideration. Finally the fifth step, subtraction (S), involves setting aside all the various components and considerations that are not immediately necessary at this point in the project, for later development, scaling down the scope of the first phase of solution iterations to include only the most important and germane elements. Prioritizing, in other words. Needless to say, and so I will say it emphatically: this is not a one-and-done process. It will be necessary, in virtually every case, to revisit the exponent several times to see if we have wandered too far afield from the original problem definition, and to reexamine the other four steps again as we proceed. Everything is a work-in-progress. There are some provocative prompts to the process that can be brought to bear when the creativity seems to lag, such as positing the "Worst Possible Solution" — imagining that if we wanted to subvert the objectives of the project altogether, how would we do it? Oftentimes, conjecturing the most negative outcome in opposition suggests a different positive approach that we otherwise would not come up with. We can apply this design-thinking approach to our Zen practice, emphasizing problem definition over leaping to a solution, based on the underlying premise that within a thoroughgoing and complete definition of any given problem, the solution will be implied. It becomes clear that, while as Master Dogen reminds us, "Zazen is not step-by-step meditation,"  the process of our Zen life moves through several distinct, if overlapping, phases, if not exactly stages. The difficulty with conceiving the arc of our experience as progressing through stages is that we will inevitably be looking to the next stage, assuming that it will be more advanced. And consequently, missing the reality of the present moment. As the old Ch'an poem reminds, "Not understanding the Way before your eyes, how will you know the path you walk?" Nonetheless, it is incumbent upon us who find ourselves in the unenviable position of being regarded as teachers or exemplars of Zen to address this issue, when students or followers express a sincere aspiration to insight, and confusion as to its meaning, or the common experience of "plateauing" — the sense that no progress is occurring. Let us attempt a correlation of the fivefold sequence of the process outlined above with the general arc of the narrative of a typical Zen pilgrim’s progress. As always, your results may vary, and the map is never the same as the territory. X — Let's begin with the exponent of Zen - what is the root of the problem? What lies under the radical, waiting to be solved? What is the source of our suffering? We can derive some guidance from the written record, of course, where we find such definitions as the reification of a non-existent self, unsatisfactoriness with the causes and conditions of our existence, et cetera, which are, of course, not very satisfactory. The problem of existence, and our place in it, begs the question: Is it really a problem? It is more important to personalize this problem definition than to generalize it. What is troubling you immediately, in space and time? As Master Dogen says in "Genjokoan": If you find your place where you are, practice occurs, actualizing the fundamental point. If you find your way at this moment, practice occurs, actualizing the fundamental point. So the problem, if it is a problem, must be hiding in plain sight. M — Brainstorming intentionally, rather than allowing the monkey mind to hijack the process, we embrace our world of complexity and distractions from all four spheres of activity and influence — the personal, social, natural, and the universal realms — in which we find ourselves. All apparent barriers to solving the problem.   The root of the problem we might logically assume to manifest on the personal level; but we cannot ignore social demands of family, friends, colleagues and strangers; nor the many ways in which we connect with the world of Nature; and even the universal, especially in a time when technological evolution has revealed so much of our macro- and micro-cosmic context. D — Sorting through the matrix of all dimensions impinging upon us and considering how to group them into relatively discrete aggregations, analogous to the "five skandhas" of the traditional Buddhist model of sentient being, may help to overcome the daunting asymmetrical nature of the scope of our interconnectedness and diminishing influence on outcomes, as we move from the personal to the social, natural and universal realms. Feelings of helplessness and hopelessness accompany a growing sense of humility at the vastness of the enterprise. But at least we are beginning to comprehend it. Recognizing the problem is the first step; visualizing or modeling it is the second. A — After articulating the many components of our living situation we come up with, writing them down in a mind-mapping exercise, and sorting into relatively discrete — if overlapping — categories, we can now review each  to see if we have inadvertently left out any elements that may prove to be relevant or important. Are they complete? S — At this point, the problem may be well-defined, but any point of taking action is still obscure. Subtracting what is inessential from consideration at the present time, leaving what is necessary to address first and foremost, we come to a point of taking action. No process of problem-solving is effective unless it leads to appropriate action. Resistance to doing so is based on fear of the unknown, unintended consequences, and the desire to maintain the status quo. "Fall down seven times get up eight": we succeed by failing. Once the "problem" is stripped down to a limited set of actionable items, we can begin the prototyping phase of the project. This involves trial and error, experimenting with various promising approaches, assessing progress, and adjusting as necessary. The current trope in the business world is "agility," the ability to recognize when we are off-course, and correct accordingly. It is an apt expression on the personal, as well as the corporate, level. The main difference is that we should be able to get ourselves to risk a change in behavior on a strictly personal level much more easily than it

Welcome, once again, to my UnMind podcast, also published on Substack, and as my Dharma Byte in the newsletter of the Silent Thunder Order (visit www.STOrder.org — STO). Please let me know if there is a subject you would like to hear about in a future segment. In STO, we are pioneering a creative, collaborative approach to establishing true Zen community (Skt. sangha) in the USA.  This haiku poem, in the traditional 5,7,5-syllable format, I composed some years ago. Memorial day this year happened to coincide with the 51st anniversary of wedding my long-suffering wife, the love of my life, a living bodhisattva of compassion. The bouquet I presented her at our breakfast date had a few buds that had not yet blossomed, until this morning. Recalling my mother often saying, "Don't bring me dead flowers!" I realized that cut flowers are, indeed, if not dead already, then at least dying, as we trim them and put them in a vase, prolonging the decaying process with water and flower food. I revised the haiku to read: Flowers blossom allunaware of their beauty —though doomed to failure Repositioning "all" so that it modifies both "flowers" and "unaware" depending on the reader's interpretation, the last line reflects my mother's cold-eyed insight that cut flowers are no longer living, and that the seeds they produce through pollination have the chance of a snowball in hell of germinating. This brings up another common trope of modernity, the concept of "dichotomies."  Giving dying flowers to celebrate the living is a kind of dichotomy, or contradiction. My root teacher, Matsuoka-roshi, was prone to say, "There is no dichotomy in Zen!" I think he was implying that any dichotomy is in the eye — or mind, or both — of the beholder. Suffering from obsessive curiosity as to all things verbal, I looked up the term in the New Oxford American Dictionary bundled with my MacBook Pro: di•chot•o•mynoun (plural dichotomies) [usually in singular] a division or contrast between two things that are or are represented as being opposed or entirely different: a rigid dichotomy between science and mysticism. • Botany repeated branching into two equal parts. One of the most common dichotomies — speaking of a "rigid dichotomy between science and mysticism." and which has become a trope in the USA, and perhaps all over the world — is the expression, "There are two kinds of people in the world..." followed by the speaker's perspective on some defining difference between their worldview and that of others. My rather circular version is "There are two kinds of people in this world: those who believe there are two kinds of people in this world, and those who don't." But seriously, folks... It occurs to me that one of the many such distinctions that do make a difference — particularly on the social level, and with ramifications in the natural sphere — is of religious viewpoints. The "first kind of people in the world" believe that there is a loving creator God watching over humankind — His children made in His image — protecting us from the worst consequences of our actions, or at least assuring us that they must be in some way the manifestation of His will. A current example is that of climate change. If our most dystopian fears come to pass, anything coming to pass on such a grand scale must be part of God's plan, rather than an unintended consequence of our collective action, mustn't it? Wouldn't it be ironic if the human race were to wipe itself out, based on a mistaken belief that our reckless stewardship of the planet is under the control of a loving God, who would surely not allow such a thing to happen. It begs the existential question: What if we are wrong? We may be forgiven for our resistance to elevating such a belief to the lofty level of "thought," which is held in such high esteem in Western philosophy. "Religion" as such was supposedly replaced by "Reason" following the Enlightenment, as deserving of our highest reverence. In its most extreme manifestation, this worldview — shared by the "second kind of people in the world" — devolves to "secular reductionism," widely reviled by theistic creationists as reducing the existence of humanity to some kind of evolutionary fluke. The second kind subdivide into two camps as well — those who are agnostic on the concept of the existence of God as a being, though it is unclear whether or when, and under what circumstances, they suppose they might find an answer to the question — and those who take the contrarian position, defaulting to atheism, which some mock as  the strongest form of theism, by the theory of opposites. You can't have atheism without theism. A few atheists enjoy a degree of fame and fortune from their efforts railing against the popular tide of conventional belief systems. Buddha knew that his teaching would be swimming upstream against the prevailing tide of contemporaneous beliefs, such as that of the atman, or soul, of Hinduism. However, he apparently did not make a public case of it by challenging the political hierarchy of the time, which was based on Hinduism, and in which he enjoyed a privileged position as a prominent member of the second highest caste. Instead, he shared his views with his followers for reasons of personal salvation. Buddhism promised to reform society by offering an alternative to the status quo, which he interpreted as motivated primarily by self-striving. His doctrine began with challenging the belief in the existence of the self, not in that of God, or gods. If this manifestation of two contrary and opposed worldviews of believers and nonbelievers — one requiring hard evidence, the other only faith — stopped at the boundary between the personal and social spheres, its unintended consequences would be relatively trivial, in their impact on the world we live in. But when the claim is made that the ways of the world, including the machinations of mankind, reflect the will of God — in particular those people who are likeminded, and part of our political cohort — the worst impulses and basest motives of men are enabled in His name, not ours. We are now witness to an international situation in which the most powerful men in the world are child killers and / or child molesters; take your pick. It is impossible to imagine anything more selfish than that. Their family, friends and supporters are implicated to a degree proportional to their proximity to the inner circles of power. Six degrees of non-separation. That they do not, or cannot, see this fact, and own up to it, constitutes an undeniable manifestation of the root of the trouble that Buddha identified as "ignorance." According to his model of the Twelvefold Chain of Interdependent Co-arising, everything arises out of a kind of universal ignorance, including most centrally for humans, the conviction that we are independent, existent entities — i.e. the constructed self. This ignorance is, originally, essentially innocent: a case of simply not-knowing. But when this sense of self is taken to be real, it intervenes in our judgment calls in navigating the world, leading us to commit all kinds of actions in defense of it. Willful ignorance, that is. But again: What if we are wrong? What if what we take to be our persona, our very own self — stemming from the very convincing assembly of the body-mind complex: the six senses, five aggregates, DNA, et cetera, implying a fundamental bifurcation into "self" and "other" — is a kind of categorical error, a rudimentary, ingrained confusion? The sixth ancestor in China, Master Huineng, was famous for saying, "Show me your face before your father and mother were born!" or words to that effect. What if what we are now — channeling through this biological body — is precisely what we were, before this body was born? What if we will be exactly the same, after this body dies? My understanding of one Buddhist teaching is that desire — the primordial desire for existence itself — precedes birth, and indeed, is the impulse that logically leads to birth. However, to assume that this idea necessarily implies the existence of a self or soul, an entity of some sort that precedes birth, a basic tenet of Hinduism's doctrine of reincarnation, namely the atman; or that the soul comes into existence with the advent of birth in this lifetime, which I take to be a fundamental doctrine of Christianity; is to impute to Buddha's teaching the very idea that he refuted with his doctrine of anatman: he found no evidence of such a being in his transformational spiritual awakening. In the Heart of Great Wisdom Sutra chanted in Zen centers and monasteries around the world on a frequent basis, the implication is that in Zen meditation, we progress through the Five Aggregates of sentient existence until arriving at "consciousness only," our awareness shifts to "no consciousness also." Or as Buddha is said to have taught, a "turning about in the inmost consciousness," Master Dogen's "backward step" of "turning the light around to shine on the self." This "no consciousness" is not the absence of consciousness, but the necessary complement to consciousness itself – the resolution of the apparent dichotomy. You cannot have consciousness without "no consciousness." You cannot have impermanence without permanence. You cannot have being without nonbeing, as the great Ch'an poem illustrates: Emptiness here; emptiness there —But the infinite universe stands always before your eyesInfinitely large; infinitely small — no differenceFor definitions have vanished, and no boundaries are seenSo, too, with Being and Non-being According to this principle of no dichotomy in Zen, then, even the existential question resolves itself into a complementarity. There is no being without non-being. The dichotomy exists only in our interpretation. Paraphrasing Krishnamurti, don't "Think on these things"; Sit with these things. 

Welcome to another segment of the UnMind podcast and DharmaByte column. I would like to share a concern about something I have witnessed in the propagation of Zen. I am afraid that Zen in America is being categorized — in my opinion, erroneously -— as a "religion," during its second century in the West. As Zen assimilates into the volatile and increasingly violent American cultural milieu — primarily under the influence of Christian and Judaic traditions — Zen is widely, and wildly, misinterpreted as a faith or belief system. Buddhism is counted as one of the world's big four religions, we are told. But unlike Christianity, Islam or Hinduism, as well as Judaism, Buddhism is not a form of theism. I would not go so far as to categorize it as atheism — which is said to be the strongest form of theism — but that the question of the existence or nonexistence of God with a capital "G," or a pantheon of gods with lower "g's," simply does not arise. The traditional Zen saying would classify the term "god" as a "head upon a head" — a  superfluous addition — on top of the reality that we all face in life. If god is what god is purported to be — i.e. omniscient and omnipresent — then there is no need to name that concept. More to the point, Zen is not based on a set of beliefs, or doctrine, but upon direct experience, whether yours or that of Buddha — who, after all, was not a Buddhist, any more than Christ was a Christian. Both were human beings, just like you. According to my poor understanding, in Buddhism, no independent, self-existent entity can be found anywhere in the universe. "Universe" is another word for naming the totality, but it is not conceived of as a conscious being, though the phrase "Vairocana Buddha" or "Cosmic Buddha," used to designate the concept, may suggest as much. An AI / Wikipedia summary says: Vairocana is the "Cosmic Buddha" or "Great Illuminator" in Mahayana and Vajrayana Buddhism, representing the ultimate, formless truth (Dharmakaya) and the source from which all Buddhas emanate. Unlike historical figures, he is a universal Buddha, often depicted at the center of the Five Dhyani Buddhas, embodying wisdom and dispelling ignorance. The "he" pronoun here is a tell — that Buddhist cultures of origin were patriarchal if not misogynistic — and any spiritual beings were cast in the mold of humanity. A section in the ancient Ch'an poem, Hsinhsinming—Trust in Mind, refers to this idea of an essential truth from the perspective of personal experience, characteristic of Zen: If the mind makes no discriminationsthe ten thousand things are as they are of single essenceUnderstanding the mystery of this One-essencewe are released from all entanglementsWhen all things are seen equally the timeless Self-essence is reached Note that this underlying unity, or noumenon in today's vernacular, is a thread running through the "ten thousand things," or all phenomena, not just human consciousness. "Timeless Self-essence" may smack of the western concept of an eternal soul, but this assumption amounts to a kind of cultural appropriation, interpreting the 7th century Chinese view of "essence" as a self-existent entity, which is anathema to Buddhism. The historical Buddha, Shakyamuni, testified to the fact that he found no evidence of any such transmigrating soul, or the Sanskrit "atman," in his experience in meditation. He used an analogy to what was at that time a familiar object, a chariot — which, when disassembled and the parts laid out on the ground, no longer exists. The functional reality exists only in the assemblage. The contemporary term of art for what remained was sunyata, usually translated as "emptiness." But this term does not merely point to an absolute void, as it is often misinterpreted. Again, from our online gurus: Śūnyatā (Sanskrit) or Suññatā (Pali), commonly translated as "emptiness," "voidness," or "openness," is a foundational Buddhist philosophy referring to the lack of inherent, independent existence in all phenomena. It means all things—including the self—are empty of a separate, permanent ego, existing instead in a constant state of interdependence and change. I lean toward "openness," and note that "constant interdependence...and change" do not amount to a "state." There is nothing static about it. All things found in the universe are not things at all, but interconnected causes and conditions in constant flux — wave functions in science-speak. Likewise, aggregate reality: uni-verse, is not itself a "thing." The normal concept of "God" as a transcendent being does not stray far from this idea, except in depictions of Him or Her as human in form. As we are part of this universe, the idea that we can realize this unity with God or the cosmos permeates most religious belief systems. In Zen this proposition has the more prosaic connotation of being the truth, whether we know it or not. If God is anything, God is everything. The prospect of realization or awakening requires relinquishing our dualistic conceptions regarding this truth. Again, the great Chinese sage captures the dilemma in relatable terms: Denying the reality of things misses their realityAsserting the emptiness of things misses their realityThe more we talk and think about itthe further astray we wander from the truthStop talking and thinking and there is nothing you will not be able to know So while I maintain that Zen is not a religion in the conventional sense, what it is pointing to is the essential founding impulse of all religions, as well as philosophy: a realization of the truth of existence. Whether one interprets that realization as a religious experience or not does not change the fact of it. Again, Master Sengcan reminds us: Now there are sudden and gradualin which teachings and approaches ariseWith teachings and approaches distinguishedeach has its standardswhether teachings and approaches are mastered or notreality constantly flows "Sudden and gradual" here refers to the so-called Southern and Northern schools of Zen in China that preceded Sengcan by a couple of centuries. But they could just as well refer to today's various theistic religions with their multitude of denominations, or even to schools of philosophy, as well as theories and hypotheses of science. I italicize that last phrase, "reality constantly flows," as a simple truth, one that does not necessarily negate any of the various religious or philosophical worldviews, but amounts to a universal caveat: that whatever belief you may adhere to, it cannot possibly capture the totality of reality. Zen inquiry is said to take off from where philosophy leaves off, the latter having gotten there in a more roundabout manner. Whatever the starting point and mode of analysis, finally we are left with the "hard problem of consciousness," to co-op the phrase coined by the philosopher David Chalmers. Or as Master Dogen is said to have said, "At last we are left with ambiguity." One particular way of understanding various approaches to practice was taught by Kuei-feng Tsung-mi. Tsung-mi was a C’han master, and also the fifth Ancestor of the Hua Yen tradition in the Tang dynasty in China . He spoke of five different kinds of Zen, which are bompu zen or “usual zen,” gedo zen or ” Outside Way zen,” shojo zen or “Hinayana practice,” daijo zen or “Great Practice zen” and saijojo zen or “Easy and perfect” zen. In this sense, we could say that zen with a small “z” means simply a form of practising. Begin Here: Five Styles of Zenby Ven. Anzan Hoshin roshiZazen-ji, October 14, 1989[from the book, “Before Thinking”]  Let us embrace this hard problem, and the inconclusiveness of its resolution, as we continue exploring the original frontier of Mind, and sharpening the razorblade of Zen. To make these postings a bit more interactive, please let me know if you have any subjects you might like me to address in future. My current focus is on the two underlying themes of my first and second published volumes, "The Original Frontier" and "The Razorblade of Zen," both available online. The former is a kind of user's manual for meditation, specifically of the Zen flavor, or zazen; the second is about where I see Zen fitting into the American cultural milieu as a third, alternative way, between the extremes of rationalism and science, leading to secular reductionism on one end of the spectrum, with those of theism and religion, or fundamentalism at the outer reaches on the other end. Zen lives in the middle. In these two books, both the personal and social spheres of practice-experience are engaged, separated for clarity of message. Implications for the natural sphere in the long term — if it is not already too late, in terms of climate change, for one example — I leave to you. Zen may offer our last and best hope for world peace, and saving our home planet. Implications for our understanding — or better, comprehending — the universe, and our place in it, I also leave to you. You are more likely to find your answers to the deeper questions on the cushion than off of it. But — no guarantees.

Beginning with this segment of the UnMind podcast and DharmaByte column, I want to depart from commenting on the content of my Substack postings, which feature chapters from a manuscript we anticipate publishing in future, working title: "Speaking With One (Zen) Voice." It is subtitled: "25 Centuries of Buddha-Dharma; 3 Countries of Origin; 9 Dharma Masters; 2 Dozen Teachings; with Commentary by an American ZenElder." Long subtitle, but at least it lets you know what your are in for.             Instead, in going forward, I want to introduce you to some of the most mysterious and compelling implications of Buddhism that I have come across in my studies, admittedly limited to those texts that are available in English translation. The first is the startling claim that Buddha enjoys an infinite life span throughout eternity, as testified to in the Lifespan Chapter of the Lotus Sutra, considered to be his last teaching.             This use of "buddha" should, I think, be understood in both senses: as it relates to the historical "fully-awakened one," his teachings about reality and his place in it—Buddha with a capital "B"; as well as its application to human consciousness—buddha with a small "b." The latter, generalized as buddha-nature, true of all sentient beings.             This message implies that in our conventional wisdom—philosophical and religious beliefs surrounding the "Great Matter" of birth and death—we are making a kind of category error as to first causes and final conclusions. Let's take a look at what a cursory bit of research online has to say about this phrase, consulting Master AI: AI Overview — category errorA category mistake (or category error) is a logical fallacy where an object, property, or concept is mistakenly assigned to a category to which it does not belong. Popularized by philosopher Gilbert Ryle, it often involves treating abstract concepts as if they were physical objects, or mixing up different logical levels, such as asking for the "location" of a team's "spirit" after seeing the players.  Note that the fallacy is defined as "logical," calling into question all instances of the most basic category of intelligence: logic itself. Next, our friendly online AI assistant lists examples of various types of category mistakes, such as confusion between the abstract and the physical, mixing up parts and wholes, conflating mental and physical phenomena, as well as functional, linguistic, and scientific confusions. All conceptual.            Then, we are treated to key characteristics of categorical errors, including rank absurdity or nonsense; nouns as subjects of verbs they cannot perform; using terms in the wrong syntactical context; or using inadequate data to support an analytical operation. Dutifully providing links for further study to various online sources such as Reddit, Philiosophy Stack Exchange, and YouTube, AI summarizes succinctly:        Essentially, it is a way to make a philosophical argument cringe by treating a "concept" as a "thing."  Glad we cleared that up!            Speaking of "making a philosophical argument "cringe" is, in itself, intentionally or not, a kind of category error, is it not? Can an argument cringe? Do AIs have a sense of humor?               However you feel about the current debate over AIs encroaching upon human territory—which may be another categorical error, just on a meta level—you have to admit that they can throw together a neat and comprehensive summary, saving this writer the time and effort it would take to track down all of those links. Good enough to support the point I am trying to make, anyway.            My point being that Buddha seems to be saying, based on his own direct research in meditation, that we are grossly misinterpreting the phenomena of birth and death, making a "thing" of the concepts we have about them.             If birth, as well as death, are not "things,"—that is, not real—in the sense we imagine, it begs the question, then what are they? They definitely denote a change, but what order of change? This seems to be the point of one of the standout assertions of the Hsinhsinming—Trust in Mind, from Sengcan, third patriarch of Ch'an Buddism: Change appearing to occur in the empty world we call "real" only because of our ignorance We can understand this claim on a universal level, I think. From the perspective of the solar system or the galaxy, change on this tiny planet does not seem all that dramatic. But on a proximate and personal scale, it takes on draconian dimensions.            Matsuoka-roshi's suddenly cutting off one of his senior student's statement about dying is another finger pointing at this particular moon. He didn't qualify the assertion. He just said, matter-of-factly, "You don't die," correcting the assumption "Sensei, when I die" mid-expression.             What it is that we refer to as "I" comes under intense scrutiny in Zen. We assume that this aggregation—of what are called the Five Skandhas: form, feeling, thought, impulse and consciousness; and the Six Senses: seeing, hearing, smelling, tasting, touching and thinking—taken together, is what constitutes the "I" in question.            This self-awareness is then assumed to have been born with the birth of the body-mind complex, developing along with the fetus in the womb, consciousness slowly emerging out of the growth of the brain and nervous system. This is common knowledge. Which is why it is callenged in Zen.                      Another reference to the kind of singular realization that Zen is pointing to comes from Tozan Ryokai, 200 years after Sengcan, in Hokyo Zammai—Precious Mirror Samadhi: Although it is not constructed it is not beyond wordsLike facing a precious mirror form and reflection behold each other You are not IT but in truth IT is you The first line refers to the unconstructed nature of what Master Muso Kokushi, a generation or two after Master Dogen in Japan, called the "uncreate" in his letters, or "Dream Conversations," to the two brothers who shared the shogunate at the time.             Master Dogen also pointed a few fingers at this same moon, such as this excerpt from Fukanzazengi—Principles of Seated Meditation recently posted by Joan Halifax-roshi: Put aside the intellectual practice of investigating words and chasing phrases, and learn to take the backward step that turns the light around and shine it inward. Your body and mind will drop away of themselves, and your original face will manifest. If you want to get into touch with things as they are, you—right here and now—have to start being yourself, as you are. Approaching "things as they  are," the singularity of Zen, then, requires a fundamental reversal, a 180-degree flip, of our usual approach to learning, engaging in un-learning. Not learning something new, but unlearning what we think we know, in order to return to the original state of not-knowing. Huineng, sixth patriarch in China, coined the phrase:  Show me your original face before your father and mother were born Another teaching attributed to Hakuin Zenji asks, "What nostrils would there be on that face?" In other words, what was THIS—long before our body came into being? Whatever that was, it must also still be what it is after the body deconstructs into its components, as Master Dogen asserts in another teaching:  Just as firewood does not become firewood again after it is ashYou do not return to birth after death This analogy refutes the common (mis)belief in reincarnation left over from early Hinduism—that there is an essence, entity, or spirit, the atman, a "thing"—believed to be reborn again and again, transmigrating from one lifetime to another. There is no "you" to return to birth, just as there is no "you" that can die. The body is the firewood.            Buddha testified that he found no evidence of the existence of such a "thing" in his direct experience, likening the incarnated body to a chariot. When the chariot is taken apart, and the parts are laid out on the ground, where, he asked, is the chariot? The chariot (or any other thing) functions as a chariot only when assembled. There is no entity, no "there" there, between the parts somewhere.             Likewise, the human body, which seems to be one thing, is more like a jellyfish, consisting of an unimaginably complex amalgam of many parts all functioning together to create the illusion of a single entity.            This raises the question of what kind, or order, of experience Buddha can be talking about, if at the center of it there is no self, no soul, nothing but connectivity of the parts. How can that realization even be called an "experience"? This conundrum is hinted at in the Heart Sutra, after a long line of negations: "given emptiness...no seeing, hearing, smelling, tasting, touching...no realm of sight, no realm of mind-consciousness," etc. Again, Zen wisdom from Master AI: The phrase "until we come to no consciousness also" refers to a specific passage in the Heart Sutra (Prajñāpāramitā Hṛdaya) that systematically negates the traditional Buddhist categories of experience to reveal their "emptiness" (śūnyatā).  Which brings us to the functioning of zazen, or shikantaza, the objectless meditation of Zen. It is often misinterpreted as "emptying your mind of thought." But this is not the point of zazen, however, and in any case not really feasible. Thinking is not the problem; it is our over-reliance on thinking that gets in the way.            It is not for nothing that Zen is called the meditation school of Buddhism. All other sects practice meditation to some degree, of course, but the singular emphasis upon upright seated meditation belongs to Zen, primarily Soto Zen, or what we refer to as "Dogen Zen," as illustrated by this line from his Jijuyu Zammai—Self-fulfilling Samadhi: From the first time you meet a master without engaging in incense offering chanting Buddha's name repentence or reading scriptureyou should

 Welcome to another installment of my Dharma Byte column and UnMind podcast. We have initiated a Substack posting of the unexpurgated reference texts for this series, based on the manuscript for future publication as a book, titled: "Speaking with One (Zen) Voice — 25 Centuries of Buddha-Dharma: 3 Countries of Origin; 9 Dharma Masters; 2 Dozen Teachings — with Commentary by an American Zen Elder" In reviewing the written record of Zen Buddhism spanning some two-and-a-half millennia — from Shakyamuni Buddha in India, through the Chinese transmission legendarily initiated by Bodhidharma, to Japan through Dogen Zenji in the 13th Century, and finally to America through Matsuoka-roshi in the 20th Century — the main thesis of the book is that all these great masters and geniuses of Zen were speaking with one voice, so to say: transmitting the same truth — that is, pointing directly at the nondual reality — through differing languages and cultural idioms. Our mission in propagating Zen today is of the same nature. To borrow a meme from end-user research, we must find a way to come to the same findings, conclusions, and recommendations that they did, following the method of Zen meditation, or zazen; and then find a way to translate — or better, paraphrase — the traditional teachings into the language and idiom of modernity, as well as the cultural context of our times. As my root teacher, Matsuoka-roshi would often say, "Zen is always contemporary." My efforts in publishing in this digital age are dedicated to this proposition. This month's commentary is on the sixth chapter of the book, the "Loving Kindness Sutra," or the Metta Suttain Sanskrit. This is one of the most ecumenical of the teachings attributed to Buddha, and the least controversial in terms of including jargon and ideas to which other religions and philosophies might take exception. Which is one reason it is commonly quoted in interfaith gatherings. But I hope to point out some of the subtler implications of the message. It is one that I have set to music, and a relatively brief passage, so I will quote it here in its entirety: This is what may be accomplished by the one who is wise; who seeks the good and has obtained peace: let one be strenuous upright and sincere; without pride; easily contented and joyous; let one not be submerged by the things of the world. Let one not take upon oneself the burden of riches; let one’s senses be controlled; let one be wise but not puffed up; let one not desire great possessions even for one’s family; let one do nothing that is mean or that the wise would reprove. May all beings be happy! May they be joyous and live in safety; all living beings whether weak or strong; in high middle or low realms of existence; small or great; visible or invisible; near or far; born or yet to be born.May all beings be happy! Let no one deceive another nor despise any being in any state; let none by anger or hatred wish harm to another. Even as a mother at the risk of her life watches over and protects her only child; so with a boundless mind should one cherish all living things; suffusing love over the entire world above below and all around without limit; so let one cultivate an infinite good will toward the whole world. Standing or walking; sitting or lying down; during all one’s waking hourslet one cherish the thought that this way of living is the best in the world. Abandoning vain discussion; having a clear vision; freed from sense appetites; one who realizes the way will never again know rebirthIn the cycle of creation of suffering for ourselves or for others. The six subsections into which I have divided the text represent a shift in focus of the message. I refer you to the Substack postings for details.  The first section sets the tone with a personal definition of wisdom, and suggested attitude adjustments, connected to the Eightfold Path dimensions of right speech, action and livelihood. The basic admonition is to avoid being submerged by the things of the world. So this is not a matter of accomplishment in the conventional sense, but its inverse: accomplishing liberation from entanglement, as expressed in my introductory haiku poem:    What is Accomplished?“What is accomplished”is not a question in Zen —It is a statement. The basic question in Zen is not "Why?' — the religious and philosophical question — nor is it "How?" — the rationalist & scientific question (as I discuss in detail in "The Razorblade of Zen") — but "What?" - the concrete question, or "hard problem" of philosophy: What, exactly, is this reality in which we find ourselves? When and if we have insight (J. kensho) into this reality, we find that this is not a question but a fact — the "whatness" of existence is realized, though it is a deeper question, not an answer. This is captured by Master Dogen in his inimitable way with words: The boundary of realization is not distinct, for the realization itself comes forth with the actualization of buddha-dharma. Although actualized immediately, the inconceivable may not be apparent. Its appearance is beyond your knowledge. Inconceivable, and not at all apparent; indistinguishable from ordinary perception. The second section turns to the societal level, challenging so-called "values" of the imperative to pursue wealth and all its trappings, pursuit of sense pleasure, and using family as the excuse for self-centered striving. In which case, one is more likely to do mean and unwise things. The third expresses an aspirational yearning for all beings to overcome the natural suffering of the world and to desist from creating unnecessary suffering — self-inflicted and inflicted upon others. The latter form of suffering can come to an end through this kind of realization; the former is built-in to existence, and so can be transcended. But, the very idea triggers incredulity, as captured in another haiku poem:   May All Beings BeMay all be happy —What kind of cruel joke is that?This is Samsara! Buddha was not one to lead us down the primrose path wearing rose-colored glasses in a Panglossian "best-of-all-worlds" kind of fantasy. He meant that all beings should be happy with an "it is what it is" kind of mentality — take it or leave it, like it or not. The fourth stanza goes more deeply into the interconnectedness of all beings, or "inter-being" as Thich Nhat Hahn termed this universal truth. Starting with the blame game — our tendency toward the victim mentality, blaming others, wishing them ill-will, and seeking revenge. As the ancient Taoist saying reminds us, "when the blaming begins there is no end to the blame." Then putting forward the doctrine of the "three minds": the magnanimous and nurturing mind, synergistically yielding the joyous mind. Here we find a rare use of the word "love" in the Buddhist canon, in its universal form, called "agape." Let No One DeceiveWe should not deceive,harm or despise another —seems impossible! Again, the ideals of Buddhism as expressed in the Ten Grave Precepts are not meant to be easy to follow. Like the Eightfold Path, they describe Buddha's prescription for practice in daily life, a detailed exposition of the prerequisites for coming into harmony with the Great Way. Master Dogen extends this piece of advice to its logical conclusion: Furthermore all beingsin the Ten Directions and the Six Realmsincluding the three lower realmsat once obtain pure body and mindrealize the state of great emancipationand manifest the original face If and when we manage to make this transition from a self-centered worldview to one in which all beings may be happy, including ourselves, we return to the original state. In which case, one is liberated from even the notion that awakening is causally connected to zazen, as in the last haiku from the text: Standing or WalkingIt doesn’t matterwhat posture you may adopt —the truth is the same. Obviously, from this perspective, being enlightened or not can have nothing directly to do with what physical posture you happen to be in at the moment of insight. Cherishing the thought that "this way of living is the best in the world" is not a violation of the Precept to not praise yourself at the expense of others, but rather an expression of the inner joy that accompanies the ordinary becoming the miraculous, on an intensely personal level. This kind of realization would obviate the need for a lot of discussion, as Master Sengcan reminds us in Hsinhsinming: "the more we talk and think about it the further astray we wander from the truth; stop talking and thinking and there is nothing you will not be able to know." Clarity arises from direct awareness preceding language. Buddha does not claim that, following this revelation of inmost consciousness, that one will never be reborn, only that any rebirth will not now be back into the same cycle of creation of intentional suffering, either for ourselves or others. May all beings be happy — rebirth or not. There can be nothing wrong with birth, or death, for that matter. So how could there be anything wrong with rebirth?