WHAT'S YOUR PROBLEM?

Zen literature offers many stories about masters whose character was demonstrated by a cryptic statement, or even a wordless act. My talk today is adapted from a Japanese account that first appeared in an 18th-century collection with the curious title of Blowing a Solid Iron Flute Upside Down.

Don’t ask about that iron flute. I’ll talk about it some other time.

First, let’s consider something.

People usually go to hear someone who is reputed to be learned talk about something. Tibetan Buddhists travel long distances to hear the Dalai Lama speak. Christians and Jews go to church or to synagogue anticipating a discourse by a minister, a priest, or a rabbi.

A question: Why do people want to hear someone give a speech? Listening to a talk is not an entertainment. It’s not like watching a television soap opera.

A few possible answers: The speaker’s words may be beneficial to a listener. They may be enlightening or inspiring. They may offer fresh thoughts. They may encourage thinking. They may suggest answers to questions. They may open new ways of seeing oneself and the world.

On the other hand, they may be sleep-inducing.

All of these reasons as to why people go to hear someone speak are good reasons, and they lead to a story.

At a morning lecture a Zen master addressed a group of novices. Later in the day the master was stopped by one of the monks.

The monk said, “Master, I have a problem. Will you solve it for me?”

The master fixed a beady eye on the monk. Then he said, “I will take care of your problem at the next lecture.”

Later, all the monks gathered for the evening talk. The master called out, “Will the monk who told me he had a problem come up here right now.”

The monk walked up to the master, who was seated in front of the audience. The master grabbed the monk by the shoulders and gave him a good shake. Then he tweaked the monk’s nose, hard.

“Pay attention, monks,” the master said. “This fellow has a problem he wants me to solve.”

The master pushed the monk to one side and returned to his room without saying another word.

Think about this.

What is going on? Why was the master so brusque? How could such a severe teacher be respected?

What is the point of this story?

As starters, here is a question.

In the beginning of your practice is it possible to meditate intensely if you do not have a question, an uncertainty?

Problems come in all shapes and sizes. There are big, fat, serious concerns, and there are frivolous questions. A problem is whatever one makes of it.

I personally don’t care for the word “problem,” so I seldom use it. Humans create their own problems. If a person experiences no setbacks in life, you can bet he or she will manufacture impediments to suit him or her self.

That is to say, humans dote on problems.

Recently I received an inoculation that supposedly will prevent me from ever contracting pneumonia. If only there was an injection that would prevent problems throughout life.

I used to work with a fellow whose favorite expression was, “We have a problem.”

First, I didn’t care for the “we” part. Maybe Paul—who was otherwise a fine editor—had a problem meeting a deadline, or writing a chapter of a book. But his practices didn’t include me.

Second, I felt Paul invented problems just to make his life more interesting.

In a compassionate spirit, I used to think that perhaps I could help Paul work through what he perceived to be a problem. But after a few tries I learned I couldn’t perform a miracle and make everything hunky-dory for him when he was letting the notion of problems master him instead of the other way around. So I quit trying.

Was it Dale Carnegie who said “There are no problems, only solutions”? Or was it Julius Caesar? Or was it Lao Tzu?

Everyone experiences glitches in life. More often than not these snags are minor flaps that people use as excuses to spoil an otherwise fine day. I don’t mean to jeer at problems. I just don’t like to assign much importance to much of what most people consider to be problems.

If you are hanging by a vine over a hungry tiger and a mouse is nibbling the vine, you might have a problem. Remember what the fellow did who found himself in this situation? He ate a wild strawberry and savored its sweetness.

Are any of you familiar with TANSTAFL? I’ll spell it: T-A-N-S-T-A-F-L. It stands for There Ain’t No Such Thing As Free Lunch.

Do you know the origin of the expression “free lunch”?

In the early 1900s taverns and bars laid out huge sideboards of ham, turkey, cheeses, pickled eggs, breads, and peanuts, all at no extra cost to patrons. No one had to pay for what he ate, only for what he drank. This was a free lunch, right?

Not quite. Everything on the spread was salty. The more a barfly ate, the thirstier he became. Which meant he had to run up a hefty drink tab to quench his thirst.

Remember, there ain’t no such thing as free lunch.

I think I’ve drifted.

I was talking about the monk who said he had a problem, and the master who yanked the monk’s nose, then walked away without giving an evening lecture.

Again I ask, rhetorically, for there is no real answer, what’s going on here?

What might the master’s actions signify?

If I were to speak directly to the monk, I might say, “My friend, meditation and so-called problems are mutually inclusive. The point in meditating is finding out how to recognize a so-called problem and to immediately deal with it. You, sir, don’t need to ask the help of the master. The master solved your so-called problem in the morning. Didn’t you realize that? In the evening his non-lecture was clear and eloquent.”

Nyogen Senzaki, a Zen master who lived in California until his death in 1958, told of a personal experience that relates to what I’ve been saying.

Once a lay person visited Senzaki’s zendo for a tour. In the meditation room he asked, “What is Zen?”

Senzaki whispered, “We don’t talk in the meditation room. We meditate.”

The two of them walked into the library. “But what is Zen?” the visitor asked again.

Senzaki said, “In the library we don’t speak. We read books.”

Finally they reached the kitchen, and, sure enough, the visitor asked “What is Zen?”

Senzaki said, “In the kitchen we cook without conversing.”

As the master escorted the visitor to the zendo exit, the fellow opened his mouth to say something. Before he could speak, Senzaki shook hands, turned around, and closed the door behind him.

I wonder if the visitor understood what Senzaki was telling him.

Z IS FOR ZAZEN

When you get to the end of this talk you may be waiting for the other shoe to drop. Keep waiting.

There are writers and there are writers. Thomas Merton, Agatha Christie, Paul Theroux, Dogen, and a few others across history, are known as writing fools because they lived and breathed writing, and their output was prodigious.

I may or may not be a fool, but I like to think I’m a writer.

In the 1960s, I was approached by a pollster from California’s Stanford Research Institute. SRI is a nonprofit organization specializing in research and development.

I should mention this was in the old, pre-word processor days. Because I was a lousy typist I used a pencil and a legal-sized yellow pad to write. The words were transcribed by a typist, pencil-edited, retyped, re-edited, retyped, and so on until a reasonably clean copy was ready for mailing to a publisher.

Among the many questions the SRI interviewer asked me was this: “No matter how far-fetched it may seem, what sort of tool would you, as a writer, welcome?”

I answered that a really valuable device would be one that could read my thoughts, follow them in my brain, and with little delay print them on sheets of white paper.

The researcher didn’t smile or frown, but jotted on her yellow pad.

“And, what would you be willing to pay for such a tool?” she asked.

“Oh,” I said. “Probably a couple of hundred dollars.”

She gasped.

“Two hundred dollars? Do you realize what the cost would be to research such a project? To develop the device? To manufacture it? To market it? The profit margin? Do you grasp that, and more?”

She looked as if she suddenly realized she was talking to a fool. She hastily pushed her notepad and her pencil into her handbag and stood up.

“You asked me a question,” I said. “You asked me what I am willing to pay for such a tool. There were no conditions. It was a straight question. I gave a straight answer when I said two-hundred dollars. I didn’t consider anything other than your question and my budget.”

That was the end of the interview. As far as I know neither Stanford neither Research Institute nor anyone else has developed such a device at any cost, and I’m not holding my breath.

Today I’ve graduated from putting down thoughts with pencil and paper to tapping keys on a word processor that I paid more than two hundred dollars for. The process is faster, more accurate, and easier than even a typewriter, but it still can’t read my thoughts.

As I said, I’m not holding my breath.

Speaking of direct answers . . . .

One time I was given dokusan by Master Oda, and he asked for my response to a certain koan.

I started off, “I think . . . .

“Stop right there,” Oda said.

“Anyone who says ‘Well,’ is stalling for time to think up a clever answer.

He paused.

“And you say, ‘I think.’ I don’t care to hear what you think. I want to hear what you know. Right now.”

He rang his hand bell in dismission.

“Now go meditate without thinking,” Oda said.


Back to Zen.

Dogen was a writing fool and he put his words down on rice paper, using a soft brush dipped in black ink.

From an early age Dogen disagreed with the practices of the popular Tendai School. These formalities combined secret rituals, sutra study, chanting, the concept of the Buddha as a divine being, and meditation.

Instead, Dogen zeroed in on Zazen.

Zazen.

Silent meditation.

WH:AT IS A SUTRA?

In most Zen talks, including mine, the word “sutra” is frequently tossed
around. So, what is a sutra, and why does the word pop up like walnuts in a slice of fruitcake?

A sutra is a text that’s traditionally regarded as a group of words that were said by the Buddha.

“Sutra” is Sanskrit for “thread. It’s a moral or inspirational saying, that, as I said, is attributable to the Buddha. Here’s an example:

In emptiness there is no form nor feeling, nor perception, nor impulse, nor consciousness. No eye, ear, nose, tongue, body mind.
All right, all right. That is an interesting mouthful because it’s only a small part of what is known as the Heart Sutra. Can you imagine the Buddha, who was known for his reserve and silence, saying Hey folks, listen to what I have to report: In emptiness . . . and so on.

And if you think that’s a lot of words, consider a couple of sutra
titles:

Big inhalation.

The Dharani Sutra on Longevity, The Extinction of Offences, And the
Protection of Young Children

The Sutra about The Parents’ Deep Kindness and the Difficulty
In Repaying It


Some Buddhists, many lay people, and even certain scholars, claim sutras are prayers.

Such people should know better.

Quoting the American Heritage Dictionary, a prayer is a petition to God, a god, or another object of worship.

That’s about as far as you can get from the concept of Buddhism, and twice as far as you can get from Zen.

Zen doesn’t appeal. Zen doesn’t have a God or gods. Zen doesn’t have objects of worship.

Therefore, in Zen or in Buddhism, sutras are not prayers.

Oh, sutras are not fiendish. Reading them or reciting them won’t corrupt one’s Zen practice. They are as nontoxic as prayers, and just as useful as prayers.

However, memorizing or reciting sutras should not be a substitute for good-old zazen.

Dogen had mixed feelings about sutras. He didn’t claim they were wrong, but he did say that individuals who have researched sutras and are accomplished in secular texts should study at a Zen monastery.

He even credited several of the renowned masters who were learned, but who practiced with even greater masters.

Huisi practiced with Bodhidharma; Xuanjue practiced with Dajian; and so on.

Dogen said people who memorize texts, or quote sayings and try to match such words with a teacher’s explanations, are unwise. Such individuals only want to have their own views affirmed.

It’s like someone coming to you to ask your advice about a political candidate. If you say something that agrees with what the person has already cemented in his mind, he considers you a genius. If your view differs from his, he decides you are a weirdo.

Unfortunately, some people consider their own views as sufficient. They dip into writings, memorize what they regard as key phrases, and imagine they comprehend Buddha-dharma.

No way. They are mislead, and are miles off the Buddha way.

The Buddha way is beyond thinking, analysis, and clever explanations.


When you practice with a teacher or a master, open your mind. Just listen and soak up the teaching without agreeing or disagreeing, without mixing in your own opinions and judgments.

As Dogen said, “Your body and mind will be one, a receptacle ready to be filled. Then you will receive the teaching.”

THE BUDDHIST PRECEPTS

In past talks I have mentioned what are known as the Buddhist precepts. Tonight I would like to talk about them.

First, what is a precept?

Simply, it’s a type of behavior.

Second, what are Buddhist precepts?

Buddhist precepts are ethical guidelines related to a harmonious life.

Some Westerners compare Buddhist precepts to the ten commandments of Christianity. However, unlike the ten commandments, they are not mandates, or edicts, or rules. Furthermore, one does not have to be a Buddhist to realize the precepts are common sense notions of behavior.

Rather than an individual being finger-wagged and given a bunch of “do not do this,” one is encouraged to use one’s intelligence to apply the precepts in the best way possible in life.

There are anywhere from five Buddhist precepts to 227, depending on the source of information. One source says ten precepts are considered major, 48 minor. But that’s splitting hairs and making judgments. I don’t know anything about the other 169.

I will talk about only five precepts, since most of the others are specialized ones that are given to novices to prepare them for a monastic life.

In most cases, receiving the Buddhist precepts involves a full blown ceremony that includes bowing, chanting, and gonging. During the ritual a master reads each precept aloud and asks the individual receiver if he or she can keep each one. If all goes according to plan, each time the receiver answers “Yes, I can.”

The master acknowledges the positive responses, and with that the receiver is considered a Buddhist.

Presumably, then you entitled to reveal to the world that you are a Buddhist. It’s sort of like admitting publicly you’re gay. Not that anyone cares to know.

Here are the five basic precepts, plus a clarification of each. Of course there are countless exceptions for every one, and every one is open to questions of philosophy and morals. But as I present each precept, just receive it without agreeing or disagreeing.

Later we can discuss them.


PRECEPT 1: I WILL BE MINDFUL AND RESPECTFUL OF ALL LIFE.

One should not deprive any living creature of life. That means one should not stomp on creeping ants or worms or caterpillars. Do not shoot squirrels or deer or elephants. Do not shoot other humans. No matter how contemptible or weird a living form may be, every being has a right to life.

I know you will ask what about Hitler, or termites, but let’s save the questions until later.

To paraphrase Dr. Bodhippriya Subhadra Sinwardena, an Indian Buddhist: “Nobody has the right to destroy the life of another for any reason. But we know human beings kill others individually and collectively in the name of human rights, religion, peace, and population control.”

In the name of human rights, religion, peace, and population control, eh? In practical terms, especially in the Western World, these are assumed to be good purposes.


PRECEPT 2: I WILL RESPECT THE BELONGINGS OF OTHERS.

If something is not given, one may not take it by stealing, by force, or by fraud. To steal, or to possess anything that belongs to others, is to ignore the well being and the dignity of others as well as oneself. Such actions are based on excessive desire.

And what do desire and greed lead to?

In a word, attachment.

According to an old Buddhist writing, this precept applies not only to valuable items such as gold and silver, but even to things as small and inexpensive as needles.

To quote Korean Master Wu Bong, “This precept teaches one to accept oneself wholly. To make this total acceptance is to become complete, to attain the Buddha state.”

Dogen wrote that giving means non-greed. Non-greed means not to long for something.

PRECEPT 3: I WILL BE CONSCIOUS AND CONSIDERATE
IN MY RELATIONSHIPS.

This is often stated in an earthier way: “I will avoid sexual misconduct.”

Human moral standards vary in different countries and in different times. Who is to say one thing is perverted or nasty, and something else is okay? However, any behavior—sexual or other—that is injurious to others shows disrespect for individuals and is demeaning to all concerned.

As writer Winton Higgins suggests, sexuality is a very strong energy, the focus of many cravings and delusions. If we have the inclination to make fools of ourselves, to act stupidly and destructively, then we are likely to objectify it in our sex lives. But we also have the opposite propensity to act consciously and considerately.

PRECEPT 4: I WILL HONOR SINCERITY AND TRUTH.

To refrain from telling falsehoods—no matter if they are fibs or whoppers—is to show respect for the truth. When a Buddhist observes the fourth precept he avoids outright lying or even half-facts that exaggerate or understate.

Essentially this means that one will not spread gossip or rumor that is not known to be certain. Also implied is that one will not criticize, condemn, or pass judgment on things that can cause disharmony.

In the book The Pocket Zen Reader, John Clearly mentions that Master Ta-sui was asked, “What is the very first point.”

Ta-sui replied, “Don’t think falsely.”


PRECEPT 5: I WILL EXERCISE PROPER CARE OF
MY BODY AND MIND.

Actually, Precept 5 is usually worded as “I will not be a lush.” It says, “I will not take intoxicants.” I will quote the wording from one source.

“Taking intoxicants will lose the seed of wisdom. Liquor, drugs, smoking, and such, can be harmful to one’s mind and health. Under the successive influence of intoxicants one may lose self-control of body as well as mind. Further, the influence of overindulgence in such things may cause one to harm others.”

It’s a proven medical fact that intoxicants and drugs can be harmful to the human body and mind. As with anything else, use common sense. If you sense you are starting to mess up yourself or others, change your behavior.


I’ll wind this up with some words by Master Wu Bong: “The precepts are to help us cut off our attachments, and when that is done, then all precepts are kept naturally.”

QUESTIONS ON ZEN AND BUDDHISM

Gudo Wafu Nishijima is the Zen master most notably associated with the four-volume English translation of Master Dogen’s Shobogenzo. In a sesshin Nishijima gave in Switzerland a few years ago, he courageously opened himself to a barrage of questions asked by an audience of Zen practitioners.

This talk is a review of some of the questions that were asked. Not all the answers are Nishijima’s.


Question: What is gained in Buddhism?
This is a reasonable query because human nature tends to think in terms of compensation. If I do this or that, what do I get in return?

However, to answer the question, Nishijima went into a convoluted description of the Japanese words JijuyoZanmai, and of the autonomic nervous system. His explanation was tortuous enough to make your head throb, so I won’t repeat it.

To keep things simple, which is what Zen is all about, the straightforward answer to what is gained in Buddhism is inward balance.

That word “balance” pops up again in this talk. See if you can catch it.



Question: What is the meaning of Dharma Transmission?
Dharma Transmission is the sharing of Buddhist truth and Buddhist wisdom. Traditionally this marked a formal ceremony in which a master physically handed over his robe and eating bowl to a disciple. It was an action that symbolized the disciple’s comprehension of the master’s teaching.

Some Buddhist groups today observe Dharma transmission by having the disciple acknowledge what are known as the Five Precepts. These are vows such as “I will be mindful of all life;” “I will respect the property of others,” and so on. In this formal approach, a certificate is sometimes awarded, and there is chanting and ritual.

My transmission was pretty basic. After I had studied for several years with Master Hiromu Oda, he said, “You have understood everything I have to say to you. Now go out and tell others.”

Which is what I try to do.



Question: What is a Zen master?
Nishijima replied that “Zen Master” may be the translation of the Japanese words “Zen Ji,” which means a teacher of zazen. And, as we know, zazen is no more than, or no less than, meditation.

I teach zazen. Does that qualify me to declare I’m a master? I prefer to use the term “teacher.”

Zazen can be taught, Nishijima said. But it is necessary for each person to practice zazen himself or herself.

Nishijima cautions that we should be careful with the word “Zen,” since to some misguided people the word has a mystical meaning.

Dogen raved against such terms as “Zen sect,” “Zen school,” and “Zen patriarch,” saying that they were all twigs and leaves rooted in a distorted view.

In other words, we shouldn’t get hung up on the term “Zen.” Or on the word “master,” either. A master is a person who has mastered himself or herself and lives in balance.



Question: What is our true original nature?
This is Nishijima’s answer: “Generally speaking, it is usually impossible for us to know our true original nature, because it is just a simple fact at the present moment, and so it is usually impossible for us to grasp it at the present moment.”


Question: What is life and Death?
Again, Nishijima’s answer is worth quoting: “When our heart has stopped and if it doesn’t move again, the state is called death, and when our heart is moving without stopping, that state is called life.”


Question: What is Buddha-nature?
The expression “Buddha-nature” turns up frequently in Buddhist writings. Like most terms, Buddha-nature has more than a few definitions, and boiling them down to a clear-cut explanation is nearly impossible. But most of them imply that Buddha-nature is an inherent potential for awakening, and it exists in every living being.

By inherent potential is meant that whether you know it or not, you have the capacity for awakening.

I’ll say it again another way. Buddha-nature is an inherent potential for reaching awakening. That potential exists in every living being, and you can either use it or lose it.

Master Dogen said Buddha-nature is not something of the past or of the future, but a state of body and mind at a precise moment.

If you want more details on Dogen’s thinking, read his talk titled Bussho, The Buddha-nature, in Shobogenzo Book 2.


Question: What are Heaven and Hell?
To quote Nishijima, “Heaven is a human supposition and Hell is also a human supposition.” End of quote.

Although ancient Buddhist writings mention heaven and hell, they are used as metaphors, as figures of speech.

The Western World says Heaven, often called Paradise, is up there, and that’s where you go after death if you’ve been good while you were alive. Hell, also called The Inferno, is down there, and that is where you go if you’ve been bad.

Master Oda said heaven and hell are not something humans experience after death because no one has died and lived to tell what being dead was like. Therefore, it is foolish to worry about heave, hell, or even death. Instead, Oda said, when we live fully in every moment, we create our own heaven or hell.

To quote myself, when we are awakened and fully aware, that is heaven; when we are out of balance, that is hell.


Fred Astaire said heaven was dancing cheek-to-cheek.
Mark Twain said, Go to Heaven for the climate, Hell for the company.


Did anyone catch at least two mentions of the word “balance”?