106. Three Jewels Design I

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Designing Buddha

Buddha was the first

To define design intent —

It hasn’t changed much.

In the next three segments of UnMind Podcast we will consider the Three Treasures of Buddhism — Buddha, Dharma, and Sangha — from the perspective of design thinking. That is, the method of Zen as consisting of Buddha practice: time on the cushion; Dharma study: researching and interpreting the teachings of the lineage masters; and Sangha service: the place and importance of community. We will devote one podcast to each of these three legs of the stool, as the saying goes, stabilizing the process of living a Zen life in our times.

Anyone-anytime-anywhere Zen. One of the premises of Zen practice is that it starts out as a specialized method, upright seated meditation, or zazen in Japanese, consisting of discrete periods of time in “silent illumination,” which is not necessarily silent and often not very illuminating. But over time we develop patience with it, which means patience with ourselves and our own impatience. Over time the halo effect of zazen begins to expand beyond time on the cushion to subsume all of our other activities in daily life until it is virtually 24/7. But don’t get ahead of yourself; this usually takes some time. You may be a prodigy or genius of Zen but you may be carrying more baggage than you imagine so better to err on the side of modesty and not develop grandiose expectations, and best to entertain none at all. However, the benefits of zazen will probably blossom in your life in unexpected ways. One  of our more recent members who is a poet amongst other skills sent the poem below, which testifies to the remarkable accessibility of Zen meditation under any and all circumstances:

Waiting Room Zazen

Waiting room zazen—
Quiet as a zendo,
Almost.
Each patient in a chair
Staring at a cell phone
Or reading.

Sitting upright,
I lower my gaze.
Such stillness
In the midst of it all.
Too soon they call
My name.

—Renee Walker

Zazen is so simple in design that it is virtually irreducible. It doesn’t require a lot of equipment, other than a human body. The upright posture and natural breath can be employed anywhere, and this has an immediate and dramatic effect on attitude and attention. But this is more likely to come true after long practice on the cushion, preferably in a controlled environment such as the zendo. So both things are true at the same time. It is optimal to sit in a setting more conducive to meditation, but it is possible to meditate in environments not designed for that purpose.

Soto Zen’s worldview and approach is often compared and contrasted to other practices. There are many styles of meditation competing for attention these days, including “mindfulness” meditation, which differs in one key physical aspect from zazen: they recommend sitting with the eyes closed. Which raises a question of how mindful that can be, if it doesn’t even include the sense of seeing, our greatest source of sense data. Historically Rinzai and Soto Zen were often positioned at odds with each other, though many exponents of one school or the other, including Matsuoka Roshi, dismissed any difference as superficial or pedagogical in nature. Their historical provenance was probably largely politics.

From my perspective as a professional trained in design thinking, Soto Zen appears as simply the simplest. That is, we rely on the method of Zen meditation itself to carry the bulk of the load, less so on the influence of the teacher and other dimensions of the practice. The trappings of ritual, study and other appurtenances are supportive but not critical to the essential process. Again, the design of zazen is ingenious and deceptively simple: just sit still enough, long enough, and observe what happens.

Proponents of Soto Zen view Koan practice as somewhat superfluous or extraneous as well, in that in zazen, we are sitting smack dab in the middle of the real koan: the riddle of life itself. This does not mean, however, that the method of penetrating the illogical mysteries presented by koans, under the tutelage of an accomplished master, is not appropriate for some students of Zen. I have heard that some Rinzai teachers consider koan practice to comprise preparation for shikantaza, the experience of just sitting. So there is no real conflict between the two great schools in terms of meaning or objectives. All roads lead to nirvana if pursued with sincerity and diligence.

Matsuoka Roshi’s appreciation of Rinzai Zen was amplified by his respect for Hakuin, as indicated by his praise of Zazen Wasan, the great Rinzai master’s paean to zazen. In such considerations, we should keep in mind the all-inclusive embrace of Zen’s worldview, rather than falling into comparative thinking, or  indulging in attitudes of exclusion. There is no my way or the highway in Zen; no absolutely right way or wrong way. Even if one wastes an entire lifetime in futile pursuit of a  Zen fantasy, rebirth will provide the necessary course correction, just as the planet Earth will eventually recycle all of the waste matter with which the human species has polluted it. Zen takes the long-term view, but there is no time to waste.

The underlying impulse to practice Zen is sometimes characterized as “Buddha seeking Buddha.” This means that it is not exactly our personal mission to wake up to realization of the sort promised by Zen. Zazen is already the full expression of enlightenment, not something we “do” to attain enlightenment. We may regard it as “assuming the posture” of enlightenment, just as we assume the posture of surrender when we are arrested by the police. The cross-legged or kneeling postures traditionally associated with meditation, including Zen, are clearly non-defensive. One cannot easily flee or fight from this position. But what we are surrendering to is not an attack from outside, but the internal struggle with existence itself, with all its maddening contradictions.

The idea of innate enlightenment does not mean that we do not have to do any work to realize it, but that what realization reveals is, in some sense, already true. That we are already “buddha,” already awake, but not yet cognizant of the fact, is something like the difference between potential and kinetic energy. Matsuoka Roshi described zazen in an analogy that points to this dynamic, saying that it “looks like a mountain, but actually it is a volcano.” The underlying caldera of magma is building to a climax that will one day erupt. But he also described the experience of realization as something more subtle than a volcano erupting, more like the “parting of clouds to reveal the sun” than a sudden lightening bolt from the sky.

Which brings us to the subject of Samadhi, a jargon term in Buddhism that is so revered that it is usually capitalized in text. In Hakuin Zenji’s Song of Zazen he praises the Samadhi of zazen effusively:

Thus one true Samadhi extinguishes evil

It purifies karma dissolving obstructions

Then where are the dark paths

To lead us astray?

The Pure Lotus Land

Is not far away

Powerful stuff. If we experience genuine samadhi in our zazen, it apparently has a direct effect upon not only our immediate awareness and appreciation of the determinative causes and conditions of our existence, but also expiates or atones for our karmic actions of the past and mitigates any consequences in the present and future. Samadhi is the secret sauce of Zen meditation. It is our ticket to the Pure Lotus Land of legend.

Which raises the question, just what is this samadhi and where can I get some?  The answer in Soto Zen is, of course, in zazen. My model of zazen samadhi consists of – surprise – four points, the inevitable, fundamental tetrahedron. I suggest we think of samadhi in four dimensions: physical, emotional, mental, and social.

The physical posture of zazen is a model of balance, sitting upright in the midst of gravity, “leaning neither to the left or right, front or back,” as Master Dogen puts it with his usual spareness of expression. Where does that leave us? Exactly in the middle. Without going into his excruciating detail on the proper establishment and maintenance of the posture, we can see that it is essentially centered and balanced, as symmetrical a pose as possible for the human body, as clearly illustrated by the vast body of  iconography — imagery and statuary of Buddhas and Bodhisattvas — as well as portraits of the known Ancestors of Zen.

The most visible thread running through the entire history of 2500 years and counting is this singular, central posture of the seated buddha. The other aspect of note is the non-binary or androgynous nature of these artistic representations, and their resemblance to the local population, rather than rendering and accurate ethnic representation of Shakyamuni, for instance. I understand that these illustrate the principles of buddha-nature being non-gendered, and as a potential to be realized by all human beings.

So once we have begun to experience what it means to enter into this exalted physical state of upright seated samadhi, the inevitable and predictable side-effects begin to set into place. Since the mind (J. shin, C. hsin—“heart-mind”) and body cannot separate, notwithstanding the Western view of mind over matter or the spirit as opposed to the incarnate body, emotional samadhi manifests to ever-greater degree with the normalization of physical samadhi: less anxiety, more natural calmness.

Mental samadhi likewise begins to manifest as more clarity, less confusion — particularly in regard to the reality that the Buddhist teachings are pointing to. We begin to experience in a direct, sensory (or better, trans-sensory), and concrete way the actual meaning of such seemingly obscurantist phrases as “form is emptiness; emptiness is form.”

Eventually, by becoming more grounded in reality on the cushion, we begin to enjoy what I refer to as a kind of “social samadhi,” — less friction, more harmony in relationships with family and friends, professional associates and even strangers. In developing patience with ourselves on the cushion, we find we naturally have more patience with others. Take my word for this until it becomes true for you.

In the next  segment we will take up the Treasure of Dharma, usually listed second of the three. Like buddha, dharma, and sangha will be seen to be forces of nature, operative dynamics of the universe.


Zenkai Taiun Michael Elliston

Elliston Roshi is guiding teacher of the Atlanta Soto Zen Center and abbot of the Silent Thunder Order. He is also a gallery-represented fine artist expressing his Zen through visual poetry, or “music to the eyes.”

UnMind is a production of the Atlanta Soto Zen Center in Atlanta, Georgia and the Silent Thunder Order. You can support these teachings by PayPal to donate@STorder.org. Gassho.

Producer: Shinjin Larry Little