Zazen: Just Turn the Light Around

The essential instruction for zazen practice in the Zen tradition from Shitou’s (700-790) “Song of the Grass Hut Hermitage” to Dogen’s (1200-1253) “Universal Recommendations for Zazen” to today is just this simple phrase:

“Just turn the light around to illuminate.”

Reading Charles Egan’s Clouds Thick, Whereabouts Unknown: Poems by Zen Monks of China, I stumbled upon a striking little tidbit of context for this phrase.

Egan translates the phrase as “shine the reflections back” and notes that the Chinese phrase “…(huiguang fanhao) – the term in general use refers to the glow of colored light in the sky at sunset.”

I find myself returning to reflect on zazen as the glow of colored light in the sky at sunset.

Looking at several translations of Dogen’s Universal Recommendations, I see that most have something like “turn the light around to illuminate the self.” Or “turn the light and shine it inward.”

The text itself, though, has no character for “self” or “inward.” Literally the whole sentence is “Just learn the backward step, turning the light around to illuminate.”

Granted, the English is a bit awkward and we’re left wanting a specific subject. Like “Illuminate what?” Just the point, imv, and an important one for practice.

Most translations also drop “just.”

This “just” also seems like a rather important practice detail.

“Just turn the light around.”

Why Won’t the Idol Deliver?

Oh why, oh why won’t the idol deliver?

That phrase is from an astute Viner student. And by the way, if you think that Zen work cannot be done via online processes, think again. I see it every day. Click here for more information.

But back to the “idol” in question – the idol is whatever we’re worshiping and relying on to magically fulfill us. It could be a relationship, exercise, money, job, or some material possession.

Or it could be the spiritual path, specifically for Zennies, our zazen or our kensho.

Even though the teachings tell us again and again that this life just as it is, is it and even when we see it through, we find our propensity to externalize and idolize runs deep. Ego has this nasty habit of reconfiguring.

What to do? Throw out the idol? Bash it to bits?

And then we might find ourselves down on our knees worshiping the chasm or the broken bits.

In the Ten Oxherding Scenes (a visual presentation of the path), we are encouraged to glimpse the ox, to see our true nature. And after diligently following ox traces – poop and all – then finally we do catch a glimpse. After long-yearning to glimpse the ox, we might be really frustrated to find that the journey isn’t over.

“It should be! Why won’t the new idol (our little kensho) deliver?”

My friend, your kensho is not Domino’s Pizza. It won’t deliver if you don’t.

The Ten Ox system offers us some pointers – after glimpsing we have to catch it, tame it, ride it home, and forget it.

However, it’s important to make a note to self – this is our agenda, not necessarily the ox’s. Our dear ox (our greed, anger, and ignorance) may enjoy the status quo and have little interest in being caught, tamed, ridden, and forgotten.

The path, in short, is to come closer and closer to our idol and worship-orientation. When we meet, we find that it is us.

Beyond the Ocean Great Tides Memorial Day

This morning after zazen, we offered incense and the recitation of the Heart Sutra to Daicho Hayashi-roshi (or Kaigai Daicho Zenji) the teacher of Katagiri-roshi and so my dharma grandfather. It is his memorial day today. Hayashi-roshi died not knowing the impact that his life and teaching would have through Katagiri-roshi and those many that he impacted indirectly.

Here’s a post from 2008 where I give some of the detail of his life.

Hayashi Roshi’s dharma name was Kaigai Daicho, meaning “Beyond the Ocean, Great Tides.” His name is strangely prescient given that his disciple, Katagiri-roshi, would come to America. I am interested in his story in part because it shows the huge changes that we’ve gone through in just a few generations. What follows is information about him that I’ve gleaned from conversations with Tomoe Katagiri and others.

I don’t have Hayashi-roshi’s exact dates yet but he lived from late in the nineteenth century until the mid 1970s. His father was very wealthy and high in the government and served both as a prefecture governor and as the first education minister of Japan during the the Meiji reformation.

Hayashi-roshi’s father had a “second wife,” a geisha, for whom he dumped his first wife. For some time while Hayashi-roshi was young he had thought that the second wife was his mother. Then one day when he was six years old he did something wrong and the second wife tied him to a persimmon tree and left him there. Apparently, this wasn’t unusual in Japan in those days. His nanny eventually found him and sobbing said, “She wouldn’t have done this if she was your real mother.”

The next morning Hayashi-roshi said he was going to go to school but instead went to a Zen temple and asked to become a monk. The master (my dharma great grandfather, Yozan Genki) said he had to get permission from Hayashi-roshi’s father because he was so young. Hayashi-roshi’s father came to the temple and said, “This boy lied and went to the temple when he said he was going to school. Therefore, he is not my son and not my business.” He never came to even visit after that and Hayashi-roshi never saw him again. “Hayashi” was Genki-roshi’s family name, not his biological father’s.

Hayashi-roshi went to Eiheiji for many years. While at Eiheiji he became the jisha (ceremonial attendant) for Kumazawa-roshi when the latter had some important position there but before he was abbot. Kumazawa-roshi later became abbot Eiheiji and was abbot for a long time, including when Katagiri-roshi was a monk there, explaining how Katagiri got to be the anja (daily-life attendant) of the monk in charge of training, Hashimoto-roshi.

Hayashi-roshi’s master, Genki-roshi, had a big temple in Nara and was raising money to rebuild some part of it when the old teacher lost most of the money gambling. This made the relationship between him and the community rather cold. Hayashi-roshi was offered the opportunity to become the abbot of the big Nara temple but hesitated because of the cold relationships with the community.

About that time he was traveling on a train and his real mother and he recognized each other and were reunited. Hayashi-roshi had searched for her for many years. She was eking out a living taking care of a small shrine for a famous samuria near Tsuruga on the Japan Sea. Hayashi-roshi somehow was offered the chance to rebuild a small temple at that site. He felt very torn between being the abbot of the big temple in Nara or taking this very small temple in Tsuruga. Eventually, he decided to rebuild the shrine and it became Taizoin, the temple where Katagiri-roshi lived and trained with him. Hayashi-roshi took care of his mother there until she died and also Chozan Genki when he was old.

Before and after he found his mother and settled at Taizoin, Hayashi-roshi traveled widely as a lecturer, not only on Kyushu but going way up into Komosomul’ska-amure (big island north of Hokkaido that before the war was part Soviet Union and part Japan). Hayashi-roshi loved to travel, just like Katagiri-roshi.

Hayashi-roshi liked that Katagiri-roshi came to America as he hadn’t gotten the chance. He had stopped traveling when he got older. Hayashi-roshi rebuilt the hondo (ceremonial hall) at Taizoin but not the keisando (living area) so that the ceiling was almost nonexistent when Tomoe stayed there – snow fell in all over and you could lay on your futon on look at the stars. Eventually it was rebuilt.

Hayashi-roshi lived very straightly, always wearing robes, etc. He thought that he was very unlucky when it came to disciples, except for Katagiri-roshi. Hayashi-roshi had ordained about twelve priests but they had run away, gone crazy, were in jail, etc.

Hayashi-roshi ate all his meals with oryoki and kept the practice schedule even when no one was there. He didn’t go into the village and hang out with people or talk much at all. He didn’t drink and was allergic to alcohol but that wasn’t the reason that he didn’t drink. He was allergic to many things and was often sick. Mostly he quietly followed the schedule and then sat in the room with the hibachi (even in summer) and loved to smoke a pipe with a long bamboo stem and metal bowl. Sometimes he listened to the radio but because Taizoin is surrounded by mountains in the direction of cities, the reception was bad.

Tomoe-san brought a small TV with her when she stayed there for four months in the early 1960′s and they put the antenna on the top of the hondo roof. Hayashi-roshi loved to watch sumo even though the reception was awful. I saw a picture of Hayashi-roshi from about this time and was impressed with his happy, relaxed demeanor. He had a big smile in the picture (traditionally Japanese people don’t smile in photographs).

Hayashi-roshi had broad and deep learning although Tomoe-san said she never saw him read a sutra – that was already inside him, she said. Hayashi-roshi had studied medicine for a long time and like to read books about healing. When he was growing up and young, he had been the helper of a doctor who came to his temple once a week and would treat people. His interest in healing came from there. He also helped people at Taizoin. He also was very interested in I Ching and kept the sticks for throwing the I Ching in a special box that was kept in the altar. Village people would come to him for advice about all sorts of things. In those days the temple was the center of the village life and people came to the temple for everything.

The woman that Katagiri-roshi had first gone to and requested ordination was a Pure Land priest. She knew of Hayashi-roshi and took Katagiri-roshi to him and introduced them. Katagiri-roshi was accepted and stayed three months practicing as a novice before ordination. Then shortly after he was sent to Eiheiji. After Eiheiji he wanted to go to Hashimoto-roshi’s temple for more training. Hayashi-roshi told him, “You can go but a teacher will not change you. You must change you.” Katagiri-roshi was deeply impacted by that and so stayed with Hayashi-roshi.

Katagiri-roshi told me that Hayashi-roshi called for him before he died. I believe Katagiri-roshi felt quite badly that he hadn’t been present for his master’s death.

Full Moon, One Peace

Blue depths ten thousand ages old,
the moon in an empty realm;
You’ll only know it
when you scoop it up two or three times.
- One Peace 同安

I stumbled on this lovely one last night – empty and full; deep and blue. From the beginning this way and yet “knowing” comes in scooping the light of the moon.

The poem is in the notes to Dogen’s Buddha Nature, explaining this passage:

“The words spoken by the Sixth Ancestor, ‘People have north and south; the buddha nature has no north and south,’ we should long ‘scoop up two or three times;’ there should be power in the scoop. We should quietly take up and let go of the words spoken by the Sixth Ancestor….”

So not only “scoop” the light of the moon repeatedly, says Dogen, but scoop with power. Quietly taking up and letting go.

What’s this about people having north and south but not the buddha nature? Are they two things after all?

Dogen strongly rejects the usual two-truths understanding of this passage:

“The foolish think that the Sixth Ancestor might have been saying that, since humans are obstructed by materiality, they have north and south, but the buddha nature, being vacant and pervasive, is beyond discussion of north and south. Those who speculate like this must be indiscriminate simpletons.”

The old guy had a way scooping moonlight AND reviling completely – “indiscriminate simpletons,” moonlight tossed from the bucket.

So what does it matter if the usual two-truths dogma doesn’t apply?

First, it isn’t true.

Second, it steals from people.

So instead of cogitating about what Dogen is talking about, let’s drop the speculation and scoop!