Abbot's Teaching
A Chapter from The Original Frontier
by Michael Zenkai Taiun Elliston Sensei
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Exploring the Original Frontier
I first became involved in formal Zen practice through a chance encounter. In the mid-1960s, a lot of people I knew were experimenting with various drugs, mainly such psychedelics as LSD, mushrooms, peyote and other more arcane substances. A new acquaintance, a drummer and colleague of my older brother who was and is a jazz pianist, who I knew to be into psychedelics, mentioned that he was no longer doing drugs. “I’m just doing Zen these days.” My ears perked up. “That’s interesting,” I said. “Maybe I will come to the Zen Center with you.”
That very weekend I did, and fortunately met Matsuoka-Roshi. He did not at all meet with my expectation, such as it was, mostly formed from reading, of a “Zen Master.” “Sensei” (teacher), as he liked to be called, immediately impressed me with his ordinariness, a down-to-earth-ness. His “Japanese-ness” did not get in the way. Even the somewhat ornate formal vestments he wore on occasion, and his dignified manner, could not disguise his warm humanity.
Sensei was instantly more interested in me, and what was going on in my life, than he was in ”teaching” me about Zen. His open, lighthearted manner, and sincere but unobtrusive inquisitiveness, allowed me to open up, and talk about my everyday life. His sympatico attitude stopped short of giving unsolicited advice, or presuming any authority to influence my decisions. He was always listening, and encouraged me to find the way of Zen for myself.
Sensei was, I think, the first of the early wave of Zen teachers in America to stress sitting mediation (zazen) as the central practice and source of experience-authority in Zen. He came to America in 1939, saying that his mother had told him to “Go die in America.” By contrast, Sokei-An, another, better-known early missionary, from the Rinzai sect, who founded The New York Zen Institute in 1937, apparently felt that Americans were not yet ready for zazen. He stressed the teachings of Buddhism, recorded in his wonderful written works, such as The Cat’s Yawn. He also studied Christianity (as did Sensei) in order to better explain differences in the worldview of Buddhism. But the New Yorkers who attended Sokei-An’s lectures, and engaged in one-on-one teaching (dokusan) with him, sat in chairs, rather than doing meditation.
Owing to Sensei’s magnetic personality, I began attending the Chicago Zen Buddhist Temple regularly, and within the first year, underwent discipleship ordination (shukke tokudo). This meant taking on more responsibility for leading zazen sessions and helping Sensei with his program of practice and teaching. Ironically, I had lived in the neighborhood of the temple for some years, and had intended to go check it out some day. But by the time I finally went with my friend, I had moved to the suburbs. So my new and ongoing involvement was not very convenient, but seemed very necessary.
Most first encounters with Zen probably follow a similar pattern. There is an introduction, usually through reading, to the existence and basic tenets of Zen. Then comes the first confrontation with genuine practice, with a genuine teacher. It is often this first direct experience of living Zen that sets the tone for the long-term relationship. This is a close encounter of the fundamental kind, and the point at which we will begin exploring the original frontier in earnest.
But first, a brief overview of the Three Treasures, the organizing principle for the chapters to follow.