A Future Classic — A Review of Zen Heart by Ezra Bayda

What a pleasant surprise! A dharma book that’s insightful, well-written, practical, and inspiring. When I picked up Zen Heart: Living with Mindfulness and Compassion, I wasn’t expecting much. I’d read Ezra Bayda’s other two books, worked with him in San Diego from 2001 – 2003, and thought I pretty much knew what he had to say.

I was wrong. Ezra has much to say, all of it insightful and useful in the midst of our everyday lives. The book maps out the spiritual life in a new way and offers a plethora of practice ideas, pointers, and analysis. I feel like someone’s handed me a treasure of useful tips that I can use for a lifetime or more. This is a book to come back to again in one or five or twenty years.

He breaks up the path into three stages: the Me-Phase, Being Awareness, and Being Kindness. Briefly, the Me-Phase is about becoming aware of our conditioned patterns of thought and action. Being Awareness is expanding our perspective in the wider container of awareness, the one mind, you could say, which is where Zen is normally concerned. Finally, Being Kindness is connecting with our true compassionate nature. All three are indispensable phases of the path.

In each phase, Ezra offers practical tips and advice to help us gain more understanding and awareness and urges us to remember that the point of all this is not to change ourselves, but rather to become aware of the manifold ways we cut ourselves off from this life.  It’s not as simple as just “being here now” as Eckhart Tolle might maintain. The ego is tricky, and a lot of the work to be done is psychological in nature.

This is where this book excels — in giving us tools with which we can clue into the ego’s antics, our own particular conditioning. In one chapter he provides three crucial questions to bring us out our own heads and into our bodies: Can I welcome this as my path? What is my most believed thought right now? What is this? He details the ways we can use these questions and why they’re of value.

His primary teaching, if I can sum it up in a nutshell (I can’t), is to reside in the physical experience of this moment, right now, as it is. Much of our suffering comes from being up in our heads where we spin our me-stories and create more tension and suffering for ourselves and others. The more we can be with life as it is, the more clear our lives will be, and we’ll be able to connect to our true heart-mind, that which is known as “our true nature.”

There wasn’t a chapter I didn’t like. In each chapter I felt like I gained something, a new insight, a new way to notice my conditioning, and inspiration. There’s a great meditation in the book too. It’s a structured way to do shikan-taza, which is a kind of nondual awareness meditation popular in Zen and Dzogchen but very difficult to do. I found his instructions helpful and wondered: why didn’t I think of that? The appendices are also excellent, detailing basic meditation instructions, essential reminders (think “slogans” of the Seven Point Mind Training), and Three Vows.

I hope you enjoy and benefit from this book as much as I did.

My Favorite Expectation

One of the stumbling blocks on the path for me is the expectation that a certain knowledge or insight will erase all of my bad feelings. I got this idea from reading too many spiritual books. Kapleau Roshi’s famous Three Pillars of Zenwas one of the first books that gave we westerners the idea that an enlightenment experience would be a cure-all for life’s problems. More recently, famous Advaitic sages like Ramana Maharshi, Nisargadatta Maharaj, Ramesh Balsekar, and some others are continuing the myth.

Approaching spirituality like this only leads to disappointment, because we require that certain arisings (anger, confusion, etc.) not appear. If they do appear, we conclude that we’re not “there” yet and that we’re missing something. This something that’s missing will be brought about through more practice and working harder. Most spiritual paths assure us of this. And yet, it’s clear that having expectations of any sort exacerbates the feeling that we’re missing out on something. Wanting our experience to be a certain way is a problem, or as Sung Sanh says “Wanting enlightenment is a big mistake.”

Ezra Bayda in his brilliant new book Zen Heart (which I’ll review later) writes:

If you remember nothing else, always remember this one great secret of spiritual practice: we don’t have to feel any particular way. We don’t have to have special experiences, nor do we have to be any particular way. With whatever arises, whether it’s pleasing or not, try to remember that all we can do is experience and work with whatever our life is right now. No matter what life is and no matter how we feel about it, all that matters in practice is whether we can honestly acknowledge what is going on, and then stay present with the physical experience of that moment.

This very grounded approach allows us the inner peace of knowing that this is alright.  Byron Katie would put it this way: you cannot argue with what is. You can, but it will hurt.

Full acknowledgement and acceptance of what is, is the key to practice… a key that’s often lost somewhere in my apartment.

Ven. Bodhi Bhikkhu and the Muhammad Cartoon

I love Bodhi Bhikkhu. He’s one of the greatest living Buddhist scholars and monks alive right now. I acquired a healthy respect for him through his writings and translations. Watching his dharma videos  has only increased my esteem of him. 

He’s edited and translated a number of Pali Canon materials, including, I believe, the entire set of Pali suttas/discourses, which is no small feat, considering that they comprise over 5000 + pages of dense material!  My favorite book of his, and one I’d recommend for anyone interested in learning about or deepening their understanding of Buddhism is In the Buddha’s Words: An Anthology of Discourses from the Pali Canon. It’s a true treasure. I’ve learned a lot from reading it and been inspired to practice more.

Anyways, I’m writing about him, because I just watched his take on the Muhammad cartoon controversy, which is a bit old now, however, I found his argument compelling and his approach sincere and full of compassion. He basically claims that the European press was wrong to publish the insulting cartoons. Before I would’ve heartily disagreed. Watch the Venerable’s take on the issue and decide for yourself.

http://video.google.com/videoplay?docid=7097641319082262652&ei=t7G8SOrVNYKG2gLk9dDjDA&q=bodhi+bhikkhu&hl=en

Following the Buddha’s Advice

I thought about deleting this blog. But I won’t — not again. I’ve done it a few times, and I regret that. The problem is I’m disgusted with my self: at my cynicism, irreverence, arrogance, and confusion. I write about difficult and deep subjects, like emptiness, nonduality, and no-self, and yet I can’t even keep the five precepts and my mind free of three poisons for even an hour. It’s pathetic, really.

My friend Marcus wrote an excellent entry on keeping the Five Precepts and being a vegetarian. He argues that it’s the bare minimum necessary for one to uphold to really be a Buddhist. While I have issues with people judging who real “Buddhists” are, I do agree with him. Time and time again in the Suttas the Buddha says that upholding these basic moral precepts is the foundation of the path. It’s the least you can do, if you want to consider yourself a follower of the Buddha.

So, I imagine what the Buddha would make of me. I light incense and bow to a silly, gold-painted statue in reverence of the memory of the great Siddhartha Gautama, and yet I can’t even put the booze down for a couple of days. I dine on steak, pork, and chicken at least once a day. Sad.

The real way to honor the Buddha is not to light incense to statues or even bow thousands of time in front of them; it’s to follow the dhamma. A student best repays a teacher by following the teacher’s instructions — and maybe even one day surpassing the teacher, though in this case that doesn’t apply.

Siddhartha Gautama, who became the Buddha, was an amazing man. He possessed incredible self-discipline, wisdom, and compassion. He always talked about how precious all living beings were and how all beings seek happiness and wish to avoid suffering. His teaching ability is unsurpassed. He answered people’s questions in a way that would best help them at that time. He rarely spoke harsh words about anyone and was always ready to forgive.  To obtain a full picture of the Buddha you should read the Pali Suttas. These are largely devoid of mythical elements which later appear in the Mahayana Sutras. I can’t relate to a flying Buddha who emanates thousands of Buddhas in other universes, but I can relate to the man Siddhartha Gautama, as he talks with kings, monks, generals, animals, and lay-people.

So this week I’ve decided to really take the Five Precepts and quit eating meat. I’m watching out for this negative mind and I’m avoiding writing about difficult dharma subjects. In short, I’m taking the Buddha’s advice for once. Isn’t this what a Buddhist is supposed to do?

What’s the Point of Emptiness Teachings?

My friend Marcus inspired me to think about that a little. He asked “What’s the point of these teachings anyways?” It’s a good question. For most of us, they amount to little more than intellectual games and a time to show off one’s philosophical chops.

Greg Goode posted an excellent article on the internet. It may answer my friend’s question. It’s also a very readable and understandable treatment of what is notoriously a difficult subject: Buddhist emptiness teachings. You can read the whole exposition here.

When I was about ten years old, my friends and I would throw rocks at each other.  This led to a kind of self-inquiry, as I later found out.  Smack!  My friend’s rock hit my arm.  “I got you,” he said with glee.  “No you didn’t,” I retorted smugly, “You only got my arm.”  Then he went for something closer to home.  Bonk!  The rock landed on my head.  Now I got you!”  “No, that was only my head.”  Later, I thought a lot about this, for many years in fact.  There was no place a rock could land that I thought was truly me.  In fact, whatever “X” could named was not me, because it was “My X.”  But where was the “I”?  It’s not as though I didn’t have a strong sense of it.  I did, especially at first.  This is why I looked so hard for it for so many years.  But no matter where I looked, it seemed to keep shifting around, almost as though it was always in back of me!  Even as a youth, years before I had ever heard of Buddhism or nondualism or Chandrakirti, the inability to find the “I” really did begin to weaken my sense of its reality.

The Sevenfold Reasoning is a Buddhist meditation on the ultimate nature of things – persons (the “I”) and phenomena.  In the traditions of Buddhism that utilize the Sevenfold Reasoning (such as the Dalai Lama’s sect, the Gelukba Madhyamikas), the ultimate nature of things is said to be emptiness. 

Wanting an Enlightenment Experience

There’s a great section in Standing as Awareness about wanting enlightenment experiences or the enlightenment experience. Greg Goode askes: “Do you want what you’re calling an enlightenment event because it might feel good, or to confirm something?”

I don’t want to suffer anymore.

How do you visualize this non-suffering?

Like not having problems anymore.

Life without death? Health without disease? They contain each other. You can’t hold a one-ended stick. The famous stories we read are not about life without birth, illness, death, or unpleasantness. How can there be life without its ups and downs? Ramana Maharshi, Nisargadatta Maharaj, Ramakrishna, Suzuki Roshi were all struck with cancer. Many teachers and expositors of profound nondual teachings have had family problems, financial problems, health problems, emotional problems.

OK, then what are they talking about? Nisargadatta had cancer, but he’s also famous for saying “In my world, nothing goes wrong.” It makes me want the same thing.

Here’s the good part:

Good point! Depends upon where you, the interpreter, place the “I”. If you place the “I” at Nisargadatta, then there was a body, with cancer and pain. If Nisargadatta (or any other person) is the center of that world, then there is a long wrong in it. But if you place the “I” at That which witnesses what occurs, then there is nothing wrong. Nothing happening at all. And nothing missing. It isn’t personal. This “I” is the being of Nisargadatta, you, me, all else. This is where the “I” has always been. It is pure and untouched, and always available.

I think this is an important point, and as a purely theoretical matter, it may shed some light on Jesus’ teachings when he says “I and the Father are One” and “Before Abraham was, I am.” It’s helpful to remember that these great teachers were not pointing to their body or their mind. They were pointing beyond these. In the case of the Buddha, the Buddha simply said “Nothing is me or mine.” In the Advaita tradition, in which Goode, Nisargadatta, and Ramana teach, there’s also no me or mine. However, there is That which witnesses everything, and this is where the great teachers place their “I”.*  However, a very understandable tendecy is to start to worship the person who spoke the teachings, forgetting that their intention was that you discover this Truth for yourself. If you look at Ramana’s website, you can find a plethora of devotional poetry, equating Ramana with the Divine Essence itself. Such devotion is wonderful for opening the heart and energizing devotees.

One remark I remember well from Steven Harris, a contemporary spiritual teacher, in his book The Questions to Life’s Answers is “I honor Ramana Maharshi by having nothing to do with him.”

The meaning is clear — we honor these great teachers more by discovering the truths for ourselves than by worshipping them. We should remember that when expounding upon their sublime states of being — they’re not referring to the bodymind but rather to That in which their mortal, temporary frame appears.

 

* They don’t actually place their “I” anywhere, however as a communication and teaching device, they refer to Awareness / Being as their “I”.

A One-Armed Man Can’t Swim

“Just be in the now. Don’t resist what-is. Accept what-is and you’ll be free and happy.”

We can find a plethora of spiritual books on the marketplace advocating these approaches. Authors from Eckhart Tolle to Byron Katie to a host of less well-known others all maintain that we just need to be aware right now and not resist what-is. One of my favorites, Ramesh Balsekar, goes even further, teaching that we have no choice to resist or accept — it’s all God’s Will. Nothing has ever happened that hasn’t been God’s Will, so just forget about it.  Both Hitler and Mother Theresa were instruments of the Divine Will. This teaching has its effectiveness in curbing anxieties and alleviating the feeling of something lacking, however in my attempt at living these teachings, I find certain difficulties.

For one thing, sometimes we cannot help but resist what-is. Some things just really suck, and well, I don’t want to accept them. Working extra long hours for me is one of those sucky things. I get really irritable and cranky, even though I know I shouldn’t “argue with reality”.  I also find traffic jams one of those joys of life where the Borg-like resistance-is-futile maxims prove ineffective.

These teachings appeal to us because they’re devoid of ethical and supernatural content. No rebirth, gods, hells, and hungry ghosts to feed — all components of their mother religion, Buddhism. In fact, there’s really nothing to do! Just be in the Now — anyone can do that!

The problem is we can’t. We need some kind of framework, technique, or practice to embody these teachings. JokoBeck once quipped “Teaching to ‘just accept what-is’ is like yelling to a one-armed man who’s drowning: just swim!”

Indeed, it seems that way to me. One of the key ingredients missing in these stripped-down approaches to enlightenment is community or sangha. Sangha is one of the three jewels in which we take refuge, and there’s a good reason for that. Community is essential for staying on the path. Those who go it alone never go far. I can attest to this from my own experience. In fact, recently, while I’ve been a reluctant Buddhist, so to speak, because of my sangha I am staying on the path — but only barely. Meeting friends and teachers and seeing the fruits of a sincere practice encourages us to keep going even when it seems like a waste of time or we disagree with a certain teaching.

Finally, these new approaches lack tradition and history. Tradition is important, since it allows us feel we’re part of something. Teachers like Krishnamurti have rightly criticized tradition, however I feel he overlooked the encouraging and all-too-human need to belong to something greater than oneself.

Experience This “One Thing”

“There is only one thing, from the very beginning, infinitely bright and mysterious by nature. It was never born, and it never dies. It cannot be described or given a name. What is this One Thing?”

Thus begins the Mirror of Zen, a sixteenth century Korean Zen classic, penned by the great Zen Master So Sahn. It’s one of my favorite Zen texts for its clarity and simplicity. One of the great Zen questions is “What is this One Thing?” What is it which was never born and never dies — which is never touched by anything, and yet is the foundation of everything? What is it? (Perhaps Daehaeng Sunim’s Juingong?)

Greg Goode gives some practical pointers in his book Standing As Awareness.  I reviewed it earlier. Greg writes that one of the reasons we don’t understand this One Thing is that

It seems to you that experience is something happens inside of you, and that other people have their own experiences inside them. But it is the other way around. Your body, your mind, and everything identifiable about you are experiencED, witnessED. Body, mind, thoughts, values and memories are all objects. The clarity is the light within which they arise.  (emphasis mine)

“Within which they arise” is that One Thing that So Sahn is referring to.

Greg’s student replies: “Wow!… but is this something I can see?”

You’re seeing it now! Actually, all seeing is it. You can’t possess it, because it is the space within which you appear. It’s like the airline passenger wanting to hold up the plane, when the plane is holding up the passenger.

Here’s the part I like, which I find practical and clear.

Don’t try to reason it out. Stand farther back for a moment and be open… The person is something you seem to observe as if from a small distance. You aren’t actually the skull, mind, body, or memories of the person — those are objects that are observed. You are what they appear to — that global experience, that openness, within which things seem to arise. The body, the mind, even the entire person seems to arise with this openness. The openness is you, which is why it seems that “you” notice things arising.

The One Thing is that awareness which registers, cognizes, perceives all phenomena. In fact, if anything is perceived, known, or registered, that means it’s appearing to or in this awareness. This is a vital point to grasp, because everything that seems to be you is an appearance in this awareness, in this One Thing. This is the meaning of “You were never born and you will never die.” This statement is not referring to the 185 lb sack of meat — it’s referring to our true nature. My true nature is not Joe. My true nature is the same as the Dalai Lama’s true nature which is the same as Pol Pot’s true nature: this awareness which recognizes, allows, and perceives all phenomena, including the phenomena that make up you and me. (And it’s not mine, because nobody owns it!)

The practical import is to recognize this. “Waking up to your true nature” means recognizing that you and everything that happens is a fleeting appearance in this.

Thought Creates Suffering and It’s Not Real

All of our confusion comes from misunderstanding how thought represents reality. We take it for granted that a thought accurately represents reality.  We assume there’s a real subject (“I”) which is doing something (verb) to a something (object). I’d like to show in this post how how much of our thinking confuses us, creates unnecessary problems, and leads to suffering. I’ll also explore how thought itself gives rise to the various emotions and feelings.

Let’s look at a simple example: “I had a long commute to work today.” When you think this and say it, what arises in your awareness? Feelings of irritation, heaviness, or helplessness. Perhaps a corollary thought is “It’s so unfair that I have a long commute everyday to work. Why me?” This train of thought may spiral for a while until you find yourself slightly depressed.

None of this reflects reality or is true. Why or how?! Reality is always simple. It’s only this moment. Your life is nothing more than a series of positions: you’re either sitting, standing, moving, or lying down. That’s about all that’s happening at any given moment. The “commute” is a concept. You never actually experience a commute. You experience only sitting in the car at any given moment.  Via memory and thought we create the concept a “commute”. And this is fine for everyday communication purposes. From a Buddhist perspective, we can say it’s relatively true. However, on the absolute level it’s absolutely not true. The key to understanding this distinction is observing how we create our “reality” with language and thought. We create a “commute”. We also posit an “I”, an independent agent that experiences this whole commute. As anyone knows, this “I” is unfindable. It’s not clear what actually experienced the whole commute. After the commute, a thought arises “What a long commute” and then a feeling of heaviness arises thereafter. Before that memory, the “commute” was already finished; it doesn’t exist; it’s gone, finished forever. Later a concept arises via memory and this creates the actual feeling of suffering again. Watch this process carefully.

This dynamic is true with everything in our lives. I apply this analysis to the spiritual path. Almost all spiritual people believe “I’m on a spiritual path that’s going somewhere and I’ll arrive to some state where all my suffering and problems will be relieved.” If there wasn’t this promise at the end, nobody would be spiritual! Spirituality exists because we suffer and want relief. This is the foundation of all religions and paths.  What happens when we apply this analysis to the “path”?

The “path” is also obviously a concept. We never experience a path, just like we never experience a commute. We also never experience the end state, the goal, because the goal is ALWAYS a concept. Watch this carefully — you can never attain a concept. And no matter how grand and wonderful and accurate your concept of Enlightenment is, you can never attain it. Why? Because there’s an infinite gulf between the concept and the actuality of life itself. More importantly, however, is t watch carefully what happens when that concept arises: “I want/hope/will achieve enlightenment.” For me, a feeling of incompleteness arises; then a sense of agitation to do something, and then perhaps a bunch of other thoughts about the best way to go about achieving this state.  In the meantime, reality is right under my nose, realitying right in front of me! There’s more awakening and truth in noise of the 9001 Bus rushing by than even the grandest thoughts of the Tenth State of Buddhahood.

In my understanding, this is what all the various Zen and Advaita statements mean, when they say “Wanting enlightenment is a big mistake” and “There is no enlightenment” and ”It’s already here, you just don’t see it.” How could we see it when we’re wanting something that we believe is missing?

You can apply this analysis further to other concepts. The key is watching the thought arise and then experiencing what feelings the thought co-creates. With that thought held firmly, deconstruct it, take it apart, see if it’s really true.

Trying to Stay Awake

My spiritual fast lasted about five days. I decided to get my feet wet with what I know works and what doesn’t require belief: being aware. Sounds lame and simple, but it works. Rereading Krishnamurti has helped me to re-realize my problems with “religion” and spiritual “paths”. Here’s what I’ve noticed.

That the vast majority of my waking life is spent daydreaming. The tenacity with which thoughts carry our consciousness away from this moment cannot be overestimated. And why is that a problem? Because you’re quite simply not with reality at that moment. You’re in a virtual world of your own creation. Reality is always simple. It’s this. There’s no mystery. Two of my favorite quotes to illustrate this are “there is nothing hidden” and “Reality is user-friendly: what you see is what you get.” The latter quote is by Byron Katie.

My practice lately is to keep awake as much as possible. I find this almost impossible.

I’ve also been reading the Ashtavakra Gita, quite possibly one of my all-time favorite spiritual texts. I’ll close with a quote from the Gita:

Where there is no I

You are free

Where there is I

You are bound

Consider this; it’s easy.

Embrace nothing

Turn nothing away.