My dog likes to walk around with socks in his mouth. This morning I told him to drop my daughter's sock and he did, but the moment I left the room my family started laughing because he picked it up again.
"He's found the secrets to the universe in her sock," I joked. But it's true; the greatest mysteries are everywhere--in a drop of water, a smile, an angry expression, even a wet sock.
We don't need to sit for hours in meditation to realize this. It may help, but that's not the only way to realize what has always been in front of us.
In many version of the Bodhisattva's Vow, we recite that Dharma Gates or the Buddha Way is endless, meaning that practice never truly ends. We don't simply hang up the reigns and say, "Ok, I'm enlightened. Have a great life, everyone."
But if practice is truly endless, then it is also beginning-less. This means that we are never truly attaining anything; we are just seeing what is always there, just in a new way, perhaps with a sense of wonder or openness, less rigidity.
According to legend, Huineng, the Sixth Ancestor of Chan, awoke without ever formally meditating in his life. He received transmission of the Dharma from the Fifth Ancestor before he had even ordained as a monk. This is an important lesson, suggesting that it is the quality of our minds, of our ability to see and respond clearly, that it important, not how many hours we spend on a cushion or how many retreats we attend.
This is not to diminish meditation, for as the story goes, Huineng did later ordain and spend the next twenty years devoted to meditation in order to digest his insight. I have spent most of this summer playing guitar, exercising, renovating a bathroom, and sitting in meditation. I meditate because I want to, not because I need to or because some authority is logging the amount of hours I spend on a cushion. And because I enjoy it.
I suppose I do it for the same reason that my dog steals our socks--it is an expression of who and what I am.
But no more so than playing my guitar or mowing the lawn. Lifting weights is meditating, driving to work is meditating. Wherever you are, where is your mind? If it is fully present, immersed in the moment, then you are embodying the Buddhadharma, regardless of whether you are sitting, lying down, or standing.
Your life is the Zen center.
Sunday, August 27, 2017
Wednesday, June 28, 2017
Zen may begin on the meditation cushion; however, true practice should extend into every aspect of our lives, not just the seated position.
Monday, June 26, 2017
Wednesday, June 14, 2017
The good news is that everything is impermanent, changing; every moment is brand new. This means that we are ultimately free. However, if we expect certainty and fixedness from life, then impermanence is also bad news. Buddhism teaches us how to stop clinging and accept things just as they are--free from both bad and good.
Tuesday, June 13, 2017
Saturday, June 10, 2017
Last night I watched Dr. Strange with my son. There's a scene at the end of the film that spoke to me as a Buddhist. Dr. Strange, battling an evil entity that lives outside of time, traps himself and his nemesis in a time loop.
Knowing that Dr. Strange cannot possibly win in a battle, the evil being says,"You can never win."
Dr. Strange replies, "No, but I can lose again and again and again--forever." The scene continues as the monster kills Dr. Strange but, due to the time loop, Dr. Strange reappears only to die again and again. In this way, at the price of his own life, he has saved humanity against the destruction of the evil being.
This is the Bodhisattva's Vow--trying to help all beings for eternity, no matter how futile or painful. Dr. Strange is willing to die an infinite amount of times to save the universe just as a Bodhisattva vows to be reborn for eternity to save all sentient beings. This vow may or may not refer to actual rebirth. In a more figurative way, the oath means to return to the present moment of the here-and-now and dedicate our lives to the well being of others. Even if that means losing forever.