The Realization of Suffering is the Beginning of Wisdom

LESSONS

Lesson 3 – Part B

 

          

 

“…you can’t ever use a gift unless there is an atmosphere of confidence.”

                                                                                                Sr. W. Beckett

 

 

 

A Teaching of Adharma and Dharma

Two leaders, about to lead legions of men into war, a war where every man will be killed, are visited by a Divine messenger. The messenger goes to the first leader – to see if he can teach this leader the Way. When approached, the first leader tells the Divine messenger, ‘I know what is right from wrong, I don’t need to be taught what is right and wrong. I know what my problem is – I don’t want to do what is right.  I know what I am doing is wrong, but I can’t stop myself. I cannot control myself. I don’t want to.’

This leader, let’s call him the Miscreant suffers from wanting whatever he wants. In other terms, he is a man, a human being, living at the instinct, material level of existence. There is little to no restraint.

Then, the Divine messenger goes to the other leader, let’s call this leader the Courageous.  At first, the Courageous says the same thing as the Miscreant. He knows right from wrong, but there is a big difference between the Courageous and the Miscreant. The Miscreant, cries that he can’t help himself – the passions rule and he is unable to stop himself. AND he chooses not to stop them. He wants to continue on as he is. But…the Courageous confesses his situation – ‘this is what I do,’ followed by a question, ‘how can I stop?’  and then a plea. ‘Help me to change.’ Underlying the Courageous choice is humility – that virtue of a war horse; the meek, disciplined being who is willing to be trained in order to face the battles of the world.

The Miscreant confesses ‘this is who I am,’ but he identifies with the passions – frozen and stuck in this concocted identify he chooses the world of passions. He hides. Does not want to stop. Does not ask for help. Unable to ask a question or make a plea for help he stays entangled in the temporal things; satisfied in his concocted self.

The Courageous chooses to ask for help from the messenger of God – the Miscreant does not. The Courageous wants to STOP the passions from running the show – he prizes something more than the worldly passions- seeks help.

Most of us face such a spiritual crisis – we hear the Dharma and face a choice between the Divine message or the worldly one. The world is powerful and pulls on the mind all the time, even if we do not know it. Moment by moment we choose between the Divine message and the world. And for many of us, we feel caught up in the flow of not being able to stop ourselves from doing what is wrong. We see the world as all there is – material, concrete and a place to go after the things of the world. But – there are those of us who are more like the Courageous – we see where we are and recognize we are stuck and need assistance. Spiritual help.

The power of choice is given to all of us.  We are making a choice in every moment. We, too, have the power to choose NOT to give way to the passions of the mind and body – pleasure, fame, gain, praise, notoriety and so forth. But we, like the Courageous, need to recognize where we are, confess our resistance and seek help. To ask what must we do? To ask in all sincerity – what must we do?

Imagine confidence (faith) in this truth as a spiritual gift – an atmosphere where we confidently stand upon it as a spiritual principle worth trusting. We choose to stand and remain standing in confidence on the gift that everything is a moment of choice between ignorance and awakening. We practice to meet with gratitude, moment by moment another chance to practice the Divine message. And when we wander off – we make it difficult for ourselves and others, but we can stop, turn around and choose to return to the path.

It requires hearing, listening and knowing the teachings. Once we know the teachings, we are able to choose to renounce self-interest, to choose to let go of the obstacles in the Way and to meet what comes as a gift to do the work of a spiritual adept.

All of us face this challenge – of being taken captive by the passions – from anger and greed, to stinginess and vanity and the many iterations the passions take. Without confidence (faith) we cannot use the gifts of the moment, without confidence and awareness we risk getting entangled in the world.

The Cloud of Unknowing makes it clear and simple. How will you follow the Divine message offered? The answer is choice – choose to get free of the ignorance of the concocted self – and…

 

“Do not get entangled in things that are temporal and created. Let created things be.

Fix your mind and feelings on things above.” (The Divine messenger)

 

How do you do that?

Study the self – the self that is an entangler extraordinaire – the one that wants what it wants when it wants it – the self that is undisciplined, reckless and unable to control the desire of the passions (sense doors). The one that believes that the grass is greener in the temporal world is a troublemaker who pulls us, time and again, into the worldly affairs as the place of salvation, when in reality it may be pleasurable, but it is the way of the Miscreant.

Remember, in order to do the work, we realize suffering as the beginning of wisdom, we pay attention to what comes into our life, meet it with attention and awareness and respond to it with the power of choice. The choice between following the entangler’s message of self-interest (what’s in it for me) and the Divine messenger (don’t get entangled in the temporal things).

Most of us need help to do this – teachings and practice – it’s a choice to seek help – a choice of confidence in the teachings (which are many) a choice to practice with everything that comes into our life as a Divine message. We are given this choice over and over until we take out last breath.

May all beings realize the emptiness of the three wheels, giver, receiver and gift.

Humming Bird

Author: FaShi Lao Yue

Image credits: Fly, 2019

A Single Thread is not a blog. If for some reason you need elucidation on the teaching,

please contact editor at: yao.xiang.editor@gmail.com

 

Lesson 4. The Causes of Suffering

I am the Dharma

Just as Light & Heat are the Sun

How can it be otherwise? We are inseparable from the Truth and yet we seem to be fumbling around in something unreal and not true. We seem to get caught in our ignorance (stupidity), in scattered distractions and in our self-interest. Each one of these traps keeps us from knowing that we, you and me, are the Dharma – the Truth.

How can it be otherwise? Let’s take a look at each one. 

 

Ignorance, the blindfold over our being. In the Wheel of Birth & Death, the very first link of causation is a blind man heading for a cliff. In this case, we are ignorant children about to get caught in the web of desire. These are clear images of how spiritually threatening ignorance is. As long as we have the pot  of ignorance over our vision we will spin on the Wheel of birth and death – creating all sorts of things that result in the end as death. This spinning is suffering, the first Noble Truth of our situation. The cause is ignorance. But what you ask, are we ignorant of – we are ignorant of knowing the Truth – knowing that we are the Dharma just as light and heat are to the Sun – the Truth.

 

 

 

If this is true, why do we bother with the second Noble Truth which says the cause of suffering is desire? A very good question – we bother with this cause because desire is the demon of distraction. Distraction comes when we desire something, anything at all that is other than what is – what is right in front of us. Desire distracts us and our mind scatters and runs after some thing. It is a trap door in the form of pleasure which we all have in our lives. There are desires that we refuse to renounce and relinquish. When we are unwilling to renounce our trap doors we fall into a scattered mind. Following after desire of things in the apparent world interferes with concentration and meditation.

 

 

 

When we remain ignorant, (stupid) we get distracted, scattered, because we are following our self-interest. Self-interest interferes with unconditional love – because unconditional love is without a self – it is not invested in an outcome – does not pick and choose. But knowing the definition of unconditioned love does not lead to being unconditioned. This love is a realization beyond self-interest and self-evaluation of what one should or should not do. It is a realization, not a brush to polish up an already confused and ignorant ego.

 

In summary.

Just as light and heat are the Sun, I am the Dharma, we are the Dharma. Ignorance, our blindfolded mind prevents us from knowing this to be so. Realizing it. Because our mind is distracted and confused by the desire for the things of the world – things that come and go – things that are full of suffering when we cling to them. And finally, all this desire for the things the self wants blocks us from unconditioned love. Self-interest causes us to pick and choose what we ignorantly pick and choose as the path – what we want and how we want to satisfy our longing with the things of the world. This nonsense takes us round and round the Wheel of birth and death.

 

The medicine for ignorance is knowledge, the medicine for a scattered, confused mind is concentration and meditation, the medicine for self-interest, is renunciation and surrender to what is without attaching to it. This takes guts. the spiritual kind. 

 

I refer those who want to know more, to the excellent essay by our late Ming Zhen Shakya. Here’s her explanation of detachment and attachment.

 

Detachment requires us to get our emotional teeth and claws out of the people and things of the material world and to get their teeth and claws out of us. For so long as we derive our sense of self, our identity, in terms of our relationships to other persons or things, we bind ourselves to the future and to the past. We attach our ego, like an umbilical cord, to whatever is “other”‘ and we reduce ourselves to fetal creatures who are dependent on those “others” for our sustenance. Attachment, therefore, is to possess or be possessed by someone or something outside ourselves. Ming Zhen Shakya

 

Humming Bird
Author: Fashi Lao Yue

If for some reason yon need elucidation on the teaching,

please contact the editor at: yao.xiang.editor@gmail.com

Images by FLY

Quote: Ming Zhen Shakya

The Mandukya Karika

Lesson 3 – PART A. I Always Want It to Be Different

 

LESSONS

Lesson 3 – PART A. I Always Want It to Be Different

The First Noble Truth

Attachment in the Head by Fly & Ldz

 

A woman aspirant, a wanderer, traveling alone – in foreign territory – needed a place to sleep. A flower shopkeeper took pity on her and invited her in and offered her a small cot in his flower shop for the night. As she settled down for the night, she noticed the air was filled with a magnificent fragrance of all the flowers – but the fragrance soon became disturbing – she could not fall asleep. In her disturbance, she got up and found a barrel of rotting trash outside and dragged it in next to her bed and fell sound asleep. S. Ramakrishna

 

 

Missing the worldly smells of garbage – which is in her mind – she gets up in the middle of a bouquet of flowering fragrance and drags the familiar smells of habit, the way she wanted it, next to her bed and falls asleep attached to the world. She wanted it to be different according to her attachment. An example of limited discrimination.

The rooted attachment in and to the world rule her decision. When she chooses something other than what is, in this case, garbage over flowers, her self-interest outweighs her discriminating mind. She looks to the world for solace – for relief. Specifically, she looks to her habit.

Unlike Basho, a 17th century Japanese haiku master, who was also a wanderer – in foreign territory – needing a place to sleep. He is offered a horse stable for the night. As he settled down to sleep on a pile of hay a horse nearby urinates. Instead of wanting it to be different he writes a haiku.

“fleas and lice / now a horse pisses / by my pillow.” Basho

A third example. Many years ago, I was on retreat in a large, 18th century building. The building, although renovated, was not the usual comforts of home. As night came and I settled down to sleep the radiator in the room began to clang and hiss followed by an intermittent rattle. My first response was to get up and go over and lay down on the floor next to the radiator. I stayed there practicing being with the suffering for hours. Awake. Exhausted. Much like the radiator intermittently rattled by the disturbance. The next morning, I asked for a different room.

A final example. A Buddhist monk was brought to the US. He spoke no English but had a translator with him. He was the main teacher of the retreat. His particular lineage required that he not ask for anything – that he would accept whatever was offered. On the first night of the retreat he was given a room. The staff, however, failed to give him blankets and left the window open. During the night the temperature dropped and snow blew into the room through the open window. In the morning, the staff felt terrible. Ajahn Happy, however, laughed and laughed – he slept like a log.

 

The first Noble Truth is – there is suffering.

In the first example, the woman saw the world as the place to go to end her suffering. She does not yet know that what shows up in life is the manifestation of the mysterious truth of the Tathagata – it, like all things, comes to awaken. Her actions suggest she thinks peace and liberation rest in the things of the world; specifically, she wants it her way and drags garbage to her bedside. Most of us are like this woman – our first reaction is to seek help from the world of temporal things.

Basho, the great haiku master, is coming from a very different place. He, too, wandered. But he knows something the woman wanderer does not know. His response is not a reaction to the horse pissing near his head – it is an opportunity to meet what shows up as the mystery that it is. Being aware, he doesn’t try to get what he wants; he meets the myriad things of the world without wishing for something different. Able to write a haiku.

My experience shows a student effort. I laid by the radiator and off and on was frustrated and sometimes accepting. I was not awake. It was practice.

The last example, shows a disciplined monk – disciplined to the marrow. He remained obedient to his vows – he did not request another room – he did not get up and shut the window – he accepted what showed up in his life as the Way. His discipline, in part, awakened him to meet what comes in his life with equanimity. The environment did not taint his True Self which he intimately identified as his true identity.

Too difficult, we say? Are we able to face the death of attachments moment by moment that show up in our life?  If we look carefully at the examples, we are able to see attachment. Not holding an attachment is central to how we respond to our life.

We, however, get entangled in the stuff of the world, the stuff that is time-limited and unreliable. Most of us are the woman wanderer – we place our faith, our confidence on the familiar things of the world which includes others and the myriad things all around us. Time and time again we go to an unreliable source for succor. Instead of the student, Basho and Ajahn Happy respond and meet what shows up.

We, in our ignorance somehow believe that the Truth is outside of us when the Truth is actually on our doorstep. Our confusion leads us to go at the temporal things – to arrange them according to our likes and dislikes. We want things to be different than they are. It is so pervasive that we have difficulty even imagining there is another way – another direction.

The best starting point is to practice the Four Noble Truths. Do you know them? If you don’t know them by heart, please keep reading.

  1. There is suffering
  2. There is a cause of suffering
  3. There is an end to suffering
  4. There is a way to practice towards an end to suffering

Understanding suffering is a big deal. If one doesn’t understand this deeply, we risk false moves over and over again. Let’s look closer at the first Noble Truth.

  1. There is suffering.

Most of us know on some level this truth because each one of us, has one time or another experienced suffering. It can vary in degree – from frustration in a long line at a grocery store to a sudden diagnosis of cancer. Most of us, however, do not consider the frustration in a grocery store to be suffering but if we just react to it, we miss an opportunity to see the suffering in it and follow with practice. We are encouraged to look at what arises and shows up moment to moment not from our wanting it our way perspective, but as steps on the Path. Steps, that if examined, illustrate suffering in all things. When we see experience in terms of suffering, we make a turn to see the roots of it. It is easier to practice with a scratch than it is when we have been gouged in the chest.

We must see the experience in terms of suffering and not in terms of wanting to get rid of it – or fix it – or repair it – or complain about it. After all, the Buddha was asking us to awaken to where we are – and we are in a body-mind complex that suffers. If we are not awake, we suffer every day from scratches and bruises of all sorts. Unfortunately, we practice reacting to the scratches rather than going deeper with them. We also fail to see that, in fact, everything around us suffers.

 

 

All is the never-failing manifestation of the mysterious truth of the Tathagata. Bodhisattva Vow

 

To repeat this mantra, we begin to drink in and soak in the first Noble Truth. What was once something that puts our nose out of joint becomes an opportunity to turn in search for the roots. The worldly mind divides the world into good for me, bad for me and all the machinations that come with this dividing. The discriminating mind of an aspirant learns to trust – to have confidence in the first Noble Truth of suffering. In other words, everything worldly carries suffering to your door – to everyone’s door – to the great earth itself.

We, as spiritual aspirants either go after something in the world of our attachments to relieve our situation or we respond to what comes as the mysterious truth of the Tathagata – which leads to liberation. We may turn to repair or fix or change or tidy up – but we do it without seeking a reward for ourselves (for our ego). Our aim is liberation.

Humming Bird

Author: FaShi Lao Yue

A Single Thread is not a blog. If for some reason you need elucidation on the teaching, 

please contact editor at : yao.xiang.editor@gmail.com

LESSONS Lesson 2. AIM – Boots and Feet

Lessons

Lesson 2. Aim – Boots and Feet

Boots and Feet by FLY 2019

 

It was a hard day – like most. The ground felt as though it was on an uphill incline no matter where he placed his old toes. The leather boots helped steady his frail legs and arthritic bones. Convinced he’d fall on his back without them, he kept the pair close by his bed for his night time trail walk to the cramped but utilitarian bathroom only a few feet away.  E.M. Cairn

 

We are responsible for the direction we take – even though we may not get there. Our destination, it seems, is done in small steps towards some aim. The old man getting out of bed reminds me of the Zen Master who gathers a crowd around as he is about to display his archery skills. Dressed in his regalia he prepares himself. Marks off the distance and sets a large target at one end of the field. He selects an arrow and checks the wind direction. Right before he releases the arrow there is a silence of expectation – with drawn bow he steadies his gaze, looks upward and lets the arrow fly into the sky. The crowd dumbfounded. He never intended to hit the target down field – his intention was higher. The arrow shot into the sky is to remind us the target of Zen is every-where, all around us – the Master showed us that nothing is to be left out of our aim.

“When we leave nothing out, we insure success at hitting the mark.”

 

There is an old memory I have of a New Testament passage about being faithful in little things. I looked it up.

“Whoever can be trusted with very little can also be trusted with much, and whoever is dishonest with very little will also be dishonest with much…Luke 16:10

The same message in different words.

 

Every little thing is the target of our practice, of our aim. Every little thing needs to be included in our intention and attention. But it takes a fair amount of practice to draw back our aim and let the arrow fly upward into everywhere – it is not a capricious exhibition. Years of practicing with a clear intention is required – otherwise we risk injury and failure.

The high aim of the Dharma is right in front of our left eye – a pinpointed direction. Right there. Everywhere. But we often miss it, because we often think it is somewhere else. We have forgotten that …all ingredients are the same….and then our attitude is blown about by the eight worldly winds of selfish interest (pleasure and pain, gain and loss, praise and blame, and fame and disrepute) and NOT the wind of refined practice (grace).

When the winds blow us around, we act wild and think crazy thoughts that we have found the Truth. If we are lucky, we get hold of our senses and see firsthand we are confused, yet again, by the self-centered winds.  The result being – we overshoot the target or come up short. Our intention did not hold and we squandered our attention. At this point we need to STOP. Examine our intention. Otherwise we remain blind to the path and miss meeting the Buddha on the Road. And meeting God? Let me quote from The Cloud of Unknowing –

How will you get to God? Do not get entangled in things that are temporary and created.

 

It’s a paradox. But the old man shows us how to look after the visible things of the world.

…the old man beginning his hard day – considered early his situation and took care of what he needed to make the climb – in his case, he kept his boots by his bed.

 

Humming Bird

Author: FaShi Lao Yue

ZATMA is not a blog. If for some reason you need elucidation on the teaching, please contact editor at : yao.xiang.editor@gmail.com

 

LESSONS Where Do I Begin

WHERE DO I BEGIN?

This question is layered in that it refers to both the material realm as well as the spiritual. In this instance, I will address a method of knowing where to begin and how. In other words, the question where do I begin is the method used to find the aim of the question. The aim in this case is …a spiritual practice.

Where do I begin a spiritual practice?

The question is determined by the object –  a spiritual practice.  Now I think it is worthwhile to take some time to examine whether we ever asked ourselves such a question. Or did we wily-nilly, without a plan, haphazardly stumble into one.

It may seem a bit laboring to examine our tracks – but don’t skip this exam. It is beneficial and eye-opening.

As an example, many of us began a spiritual or for many, a religious practice in childhood. Our families for generations were Lutheran, Jewish, Catholic, Agnostic or a number of other traditions and we were trained-up in our family’s tradition to go in one direction or another. Not having a family habit is just another tradition. But at some point – hopefully, at some mature point – we come to the question on our own.

Where do I begin a spiritual practice of my own?

Something happens and we ask that question from a very different perspective – from the place of our self in circumstance – and we ask it alone. This shift is essential for an adept – in order to get anywhere on a spiritual path, we must see where we are (alone) and we must know our aim (purpose, intention, aspiration). It does not matter whether we live alone, are married, live in a group – the question is asked alone. It is not a community question. It is not like the migratory Lemming that from instinct commits mass suicide. It is a solitary event.

 

Where do I begin a spiritual practice?

Even if we think we have asked this question and answered it, it is beneficial to examine it further.

In asking this question we might see that we stumbled into a spiritual practice – some of us were pushed, shoved and dragged by circumstance; others may know something that most of us don’t know and yes, there are many who have never asked this question at all. Suffering or a sense of lack is often at the root of our beginning a spiritual search.

But it is fruitful to take the time to ask for ourselves.

If you read the historical account of sages and adepts, you might see how many sages or adepts have zig-zagged and many outstanding sages have benefited from a variety of spiritual practices.

In the Zen Buddhist tradition, this zig-zag is particularly true. Zen Buddhism does not have a set of doctrines or dogmas foisted on. If asked what does a Zen Buddhist believe, the response is either silence or a response along the lines of I have no beliefs. To have beliefs means you believe the mind, which is impermanent, and always changing, as the storehouse of truth, it may know many ideas but may not be the realization of truth.

There are no set doctrines – beliefs – dogma. To practice Zen Buddhism is not a matter of belief – it is a matter of realization. Take for instance, Hui Neng the 6th Patriarch of our Chan lineage. It is said he was illiterate, a poor peasant who by chance happened to hear the recitation of the Diamond Sutra. It awakened him.

Whatever circumstance awakens, practice occurs. In Zen, form takes the place of belief, but even so, realization is central.  Form is useful to a point but it is not carved in stone. To ask a Zen Buddhist, “Do you believe in God?” is an ignorant question. If a Zen Buddhist answers, it is an ignorant answer. How is it possible to put into words the indescribable and unutterable?

And finally. Enlightenment in the simplest terms is not holding. Think about it. Often it is stated as letting go ­but not holding does not presuppose grasping as letting go does. It is safe to say that letting go is a practice and not yet enlightenment.

 

Where do I begin a spiritual practice I will commit to following?

To summarize – consider the question – Where do I begin a spiritual practice?  Examine how you got to where you are – the tracks that led to where you are. Be honest in your review. Is where you are, a practice that you commit to – a practice embraced with confidence? It’s a question only you can answer.

Imagine the commitment of Hui Neng – he heard the Dharma from a street preacher of the Diamond Sutra – struck, he turned and followed it with a sureness in the face of whatever followed. A fearless commitment.

Humming Bird

 

Author: FaShi Lao Yue

ZATMA is not a blog. If for some reason you need elucidation on the teaching, please contact editor at : 

yao.xiang.editor@gmail.com

The Broom and the Dustpan

 

The Broom and the Dustpan

Just seeing the photo reminds me of my work in the material worldthe world known as the world of becoming. We can’t skip this world despite it being an apparent delusion – even the most devoted can’t skip the apparent world. There are after all, things to take care of – to give our energy to every day. The daily tasks, however, often become the daily beasts. There are times when we resist and buck against the reins of work – thinking there is something better to do, something more important to do than what comes into our life in the moment. We have difficulty seeing we, for the most part, have invited those things to come in. We resent and worry and delay and get edgy when the things of the apparent world show up in need of care. Our welcome sign goes dark and we stall or put off what needs our attention. And worse yet, we hurry through our work with our eye on something else; the next thing that promises someplace that is better or more appealing.

Our moods and mind states are the champing and faunching at the bit in our mouth – horses, especially race horses, often get impatient and nervous or angry and frustrated at the bit in the mouth. They, like us, want to be free of the discipline and steadiness the bit and bridle offers them. Equestrians of all stripes know the horse that accepts the bit and bridle is the meek horse – the one fit for the field of unexpected challenges. It is the meek, the yielding, disciplined horse that is the beloved, because it is trained to obey.

 

 

 

The practice is to drop all the moods and mind states, whether appealing or resenting, and WELCOME what comes into our life as our life. In order to practice this welcoming mind, the mind that does not get frustrated or angry or anxious and impatient, one needs to tame the mind.

 

 

To tame the mind in concentrated devotion we need to see what shows up in our life is from the Source. It is the real disguised as the unreal. Our very body falls into this understanding. Our body, that which is apparent and temporary is the real disguised in a body called you. The Source of the body is real, the body itself is unreal but we must remember it is a disguise of the Source. In the same way, everything is a disguise of the Source; a thing is not real in the sense it is temporary and apparent, but it is a disguise of the real – for it comes, proceeds if you will, from the Source. When we know this to be true, we remind ourselves of this Truth and we give our attention to the apparent reality of the Source by giving our concentrated devotion. One way to understand this is to know that what we put our hand to is NOT in service of getting and having or polishing up something for the small self – but is a devotional act of the heart.

Concentrated devotion is to tame a horse in such a way it is meek – trained to meet the unexpected challenges in the field of being alive. As most know, training an animal or a child requires attention and diligence. Concentrated devotion, which is a spiritual practice par excellent requires we see that everything, whether it be sweeping the floor or changing a diaper is an act of giving attention and care to the real Source of our being.

All the things – babies, children, dogs, friends, furniture, clothes, food, house, family, apartments, books – all the stuff needs concentrated devotion. YES! Everything is crying out for attention. In order to give concentrated attention, we need to be able to welcome all of it. Simplification in the form of minimizing our stuff and the patience to meet the things that come into our life are prerequisites to concentrated devotion.

Let me close with an example.

A woman practitioner was in her kitchen. She was caught in a state of begrudging – belittling and resenting the task of sweeping her kitchen floor. As she swept the floor, she realized how annoyed an aggrieved she felt sweeping when she suddenly remembered sweeping the floor in a monastery while on retreat. The memory stopped her to consider why was it that sweeping her kitchen floor felt like a burden while sweeping the monastery floor felt like a blessing? When she got to this point, she laughed – and realized she lacked concentrated devotion because she did not see her kitchen floor as being real, as a thing to look after with gratitude and obedience. She saw it is as a burden.

Concentrated attention is wisdom enacted in daily life with whatever shows up. We must learn this wisdom – train in it.

May this teaching encourage you to practice concentrated devotion.

 

Author: Fa Shi Lao Yue

If for some reason you need elucidation on the teaching,

please contact the editor at: yao.xiang.editor@gmail.com

Don’t Look Back

 

 

 

 

 

Don’t Look Back

The past is already past. Don’t try to regain it.

Don’t think there is something more important to do

than what you are doing right now.

Don’t worry about outcome.

Unimaginable.

The more I practice Zen Buddhism the more mind-boggling it is. I mean that literally. Zen Buddhism boggles the mind, expanding awareness in unfathomable ways. To practice Zen is to live aware of a changing world where nothing remains. If practiced in sincerity, it liberates.

I recommend it.

I especially recommend it for those who are seeking the high aim of knowing the Buddha-Mind, the Christ-Mind, the God-Mind – the Source by many unsayable, nameless names.

But remember – Zen requires all of you. Every speck. Nothing can be left out for later – it requests that you make a commitment of intimacy with yourself and the bright, luminous teachings – for those who have a high aim, a teacher is recommended; for those who don’t, well, carry on until you are struck with the high aim. But don’t give up. The Awakened Big-Mind is calling you.

Come and taste the Truth of the ever-present manifestation of the mystery afoot.

No matter how many mistakes are made, how many times you veer off – hurt yourself or others – compromise your rectitude – drift off into self-centeredness – don’t let that hinder your willingness to respond.

 Find out who you truly are.

Forget your mistakes. Mistakes are traps keeping you from knowing who you truly are. In the midst of whatever comes – in all the struggles of life – Awakened Big-Mind ceaselessly awakens everyone.

Me and yes, you.

I encourage you to seek what you love, wide-open – without any intent to get something. Be sincere in your seeking. Sincerity will protect you while the power of thunder from above shows you your original nature.

 

May you be Happy, Safe from Harm and Peaceful in Mind.

May the merit of this practice benefit all beings.

Don’t give up.

Happy New Year

 

Author: Fa Shi Lao Yue

If for some reason yon need elucidation on the teaching,

please contact the editor at: yao.xiang.editor@gmail.com

Sources

Layman Pang, Chan Practitioner

C. Huber, The Key

Rumi

Wait! by Lao Huo Shakya

…the practical man is here invited: to a training of his latent faculties, a bracing and brightening of his languid consciousness, an emancipation from the fetters of appearance, a turning of his attention to new levels of the world.

Underhill

_____

The writing was taking such great effort, and the pages of words I sent on to my spiritual teacher said nothing.

Wait,” she said, “Stop writing and wait.

I did not want to wait, but I couldn’t see another way to be while the writing went into hibernation. Reluctantly, I turned toward waiting even though it seemed less glamorous than writing; a pale and uninspiring alternative.

Days became weeks. Still I waited. But I yearned to write. I began to hunt for topics to write about, something from which to build a narrative, some idea with life in it. But nothing took hold.

Waiting was what showed up, every day.

Then, I remembered a poem about waiting, and turned to it for guidance. It is by T.S. Eliot, from The Four Quartets:

I said to my soul, be still, and wait without hope
For hope would be hope for the wrong thing; wait without love,
For love would be love of the wrong thing; there is yet faith
But the faith and the love and the hope are all in the waiting.
Wait without thought, for you are not ready for thought:
So the darkness shall be the light, and the stillness the dancing.

This became my mantra: “Wait without hope, wait without love, wait without thought.” The mantra helped me. I felt the wisdom in hope, love and thought being hope, love and thought for the wrong thing. I could see how my pushing and yearning were bound to lead to writing that was nothing more than useless words on a page.

Still I could not let go of the hope for a speedy return to writing. The mantra could not hold back my desire. It gnawed at me, this hope that my wait could end. It sent me into more rounds of thinking: “Maybe this idea? Or this one?” My inner world became a battlefield where hoping and thinking and wanting joined forces to vanquish waiting. But waiting kept quietly showing up each morning, while I sat, pen in hand. The tension was painful and confusing.

One cold morning, huddled around the wood stove, I felt the deep depletion of the inner battle. I craved rest, an end to the pressure, an end to the obligation to write. I could not see that I alone was causing this pressure. I believed the pressure was coming from the outside.

I composed a letter to my spiritual teacher in my mind. “I am so tired. I need a break from writing. I will not be working on writing projects until further notice.” But then suddenly I remembered that I had already been instructed to WAIT. I could just WAIT. It was perfectly OK to wait.

The tension released, the battle was over. In the relief I felt as a small piece of suffering let go, I saw that waiting is always right here, when I surrender ideas and feelings, the ingredients of my self-concept.

I saw that the urgency to write, not wait, is my ego’s impulse to flee from no hope or thought. The push to know, to be in control, to find the right words and solve the mystery, this driving force topples me into thinking, feeling and suffering. I struggle to let go of knowing. I cling to being clever, being in charge.

I sing praises to the pain and frustration of the struggle that comes when I cling. I bow in gratitude to this living force of nature, the power of difficulty and the mystery that is veiled within it. Together they move me beyond what I can know, beyond what I could hope for without this terrible wonderful mysterious fulfilling power.

But the faith and the love and the hope are all in the waiting.
Wait without thought, for you are not ready for thought:
So the darkness shall be the light, and the stillness the dancing.

T. S. Eliot

 

Humming Bird

Author: Lao Huo Shakya

A Single Thread is not a blog. If for some reason you need elucidation on the teaching, please contact the editor at: yao.xiang.editor@gmail.com

At the Core of the Coreless

 

Ayya Medhanandi Breakfast Reflections

 

I’ve talked quite a bit about the tornado and eye of the tornado. And I spoke more about the winds circling around the eye than the eye itself.  We tend to measure the speed and direction of such an intense wind storm but we don’t usually say much about the eye at its centre.

The interesting thing about the eye itself is that there is much to explore within that eye.  That eye is actually eye-ness.  It’s not an ‘I’, not a person. It’s not a personality.  And it’s not ‘an eyeness’ either, because that could quickly be thought of as an ‘i’ with a ‘dot-ness’.

The most valuable and unique aspect of the Buddha’s teaching is that this I-ness is empty.  It’s actually empty.  But we mistakenly perceive it to be full – until we learn how to see.

And learning how to see is not something we can do conceptually.  Our conceptual instrumentation is flawed. Not from birth, but from lack of training.

This particular path of practice and opening to this core which is coreless – that’s another thing. Language doesn’t capture it.  It’s a core but it’s coreless. Like a banana tree. It’s a tree that has no core.  Most trees if you cut them and look in, you find a core.  But the banana tree has none.  It’s coreless.  And if you take it apart, there’s nothing inside it – nothing at all. Absolutely nothing.

So if you take this mind and study it deeply and look within it – look truly deeply within it! Look deeply within it and see through. You find nothing.

The finding of nothing is a very important discovery.  We can’t discover it conceptually. It can only be discovered intuitively.  During the process of discovering, necessarily we have to go through steps.

And those steps can be very painful.

There’s a beautiful analogy in the scriptures of a meditator being like a chicken in the egg and the meditation process is like the mother hen sitting on the egg – sitting on the egg and heating it up. And when the conditions are right, then there’s enough heat but not too much.

When the shell is mature and the little foetus inside is ripe to come out, then the thickness of the shell becomes something that the little chick can penetrate with its beak.  And it starts pecking away until it makes a hole big enough for it to emerge.

But if the mother keeps getting up and leaving the egg, then these processes of the shell warming and the chick inside developing and the conditions for its breaking through never ripen.

So that can be used to describe a meditation practice which is sporadic. It does not have within it the right factors to develop the conditions for the mind’s ripening: the right warmth, the right attention, the right intention, the right clarity, the right consistency, the right commitment, the right effort, the right way of paying attention that warrants diligence, ardency, remembering to be present, to be studying, peering into the core so one-pointedly, so undistractedly that the whole process can mature and the chick can poke through the shell and see.

In this process, some of the necessary steps before the little chick can come out are its having to experience terrible pains, excruciating pains, unearthly pains – and at times very earthly pains. We feel all manner of pains: internal pains, external pains; what we think are pains, what we don’t think are pains; what we perceive to be mental pains, what we perceive to be physical pains; what we perceive to be internal pains, what we perceive to be external pains; what we perceive to be social pains, what we perceive to be psychological pains, what we perceive to be our pains, what we perceive to be other people’s minds pains.

We engage in receiving those pains in ways that are unbearable, and we blame others or we blame ourselves; or we don’t blame anyone. We just feel hopeless, helpless, lost, unequal to the task, incapacitated, inadequate, oppressed, pressured – wanting to get out, wanting to run away. Wanting, Craving. We fall back into deeper and deeper states of exaggerated craving.  And this, of course, does not make the process of opening ripen.

It doesn’t lead to the celebration of that opening – that ability to see through. Instead, it misdirects us. We flap around a lot, and in our flapping we can create quite a mess.  And we feel even worse for all our effort. Then we make up our minds – this is a waste of time, this is harming, this needs to stop. That’s very common. It’s classical. We feel sure,“This is harming.”  So we have to stop!

That’s to our detriment because all of us are capable of opening. I know many women have described the pain of labour.  Perhaps it’s one of the most intense pains that a person intentionally experiences – because she knows that the result is that the little chick is allowed to come out.

In this process we don’t realize that we are in labour. But we have other pains that simulate that. This is a mental pain. It’s a heart pain, not a physical pain. By mental we don’t mean brain. It’s really important to distinguish that. It’s not cerebral pain but it’s a pain of the heart.

So the pain of the heart is a cracking open. It’s a complete cracking open. It’s a seeing, it’s a bearing with.  And it may be excruciating, but we bear with it. We bear with it, we take care.  We take care of the body the best way we can. And we take care of the mind the best way we can.

We don’t accelerate. We don’t try to manipulate the process or speed it up. We are just patient with it, realizing that this is an important and difficult ascent.  It’s an ascent of the highest mountain; or it’s a descent into the deepest possible space that exists in this world.

That’s how vast the journey is. How magnificent and immeasurable the whole process is. And it has to unfold karmically. We can’t intentionally speed it up because of craving, because of wanting a result, or expecting it to be a certain way and have it the way we like. This is all delusion – because the opening is a very major letting go. And that’s why it’s so excruciating – because we’ve been taught not to let go!

Yes, because we’ve been taught to cling, to own, to have, to possess, to increase, to inflate, to expand, to broadcast and receive results; to be gratified and have it pleasurable, have it satisfying, have it protecting us, keeping us well – so to speak – according to our socialized, acculturated definitions of getting well, and all of that.

But in this letting go, it’s like the letting go that those little boys in the cave in Thailand experienced. They’re in the dark, they had no food, they could barely drink water – just a little drip-drop from the walls of the cave. And they were terrified. Because they were alone, abandoned, lost, down in the bowels of the earth.

So what a magnificent thing they were able to do because their teacher helped sustain them and guide them to be like little chicks in the dark within a shell, breaking through and able to see within their own body-mind process the corelessness, fearlessness, true deathlessness, the dying to the craving to get out, to be rescued, to be found.

He was able to help them – and they were captive.  There was nowhere to go, nowhere to run, nothing to run to. No succor of any kind. No comfort. No tangible oxygen tank or hero to carry them away in his or her arms. There was just facing death, disappearance, destruction.

But within the corelessness of their own little body-mind processes, they could find some space, some place, some way of being that went beyond all the panic, anxiety, fear and helplessness. They were able to go beyond that and touch it.

It’s very much what we’re doing here. And it feels artificial – because it is.  How many people would choose to climb into an oven and bake?  Do that, even heat the place up, or overheat the body – and look at your mind.

So by our choice of staying within these cloisters, we’re like chicks in a little dark space, little Thai boys in a cave and we feel like we’re trapped. This is because the mind is too frightened, too immature, too unripe to go into that corelessness and let go of the world enough to be able to see through. Not just to see.

Seeing isn’t enough. We have to see through our conditioning. We have to see through our blockages. We have to see through our clinging.  We have to see beyond our craving.

We have to see through our enslavement to having all the things that we can experience through the sense doors – and we have to only use the mind door, the heart door.

Sit in front of it. Sit in front of it and be with it, examine it, know it, taste it, touch it, until we see that it doesn’t exist. There is no door. It’s just an empty space.  We are already in that.  We are that.  We’re nothing less than that – and yet – we are nothing.

In the emptiness of all impurity in the mind, we begin to see through. We see not just the arising of phenomena in consciousness due to our attachment, and our wanting things to arise in consciousness so that we can feel alive, but we begin to see through to the ending of phenomena in the mind. We begin to see through to the ending of phenomena in the heart – taking up one by one the detrimental observations of phenomena, and what is detrimental to their emptying.

We see what is detrimental, we see what diminishes us – and what takes us back to clinging. We see that.  We see how it begins and how it ends.  We see the ending of it.

At first it’s very frightening to see the ending of things. But in seeing the endings, craving is also ended – the ending of craving and the ending of attachments. We see the ending of hanging on to things that we trust and that we don’t even know we’re hanging onto because we haven’t stopped long enough, perseveringly enough, committed enough to see through.

In observing the endings and not being terrified by that, we start to taste the interior. Tasting the ending, tasting the emptying out is a wonderful moment. And it gives us a sense of trust, an “O, what is that?” moment. Something to experience, to know, to feel, to be with – without being. To burn everything for that.

In the burning up of all that is familiar and safe that we think we know, we discover that which cannot be burned. We discover that which is unburnable.  In that corelessness there is the unburnable, the pure, tasteless, nothing to cling to, nothing at all – that is a total freedom.

It’s difficult to trust that there is something we have without experiencing it.  Faith is a difficult quality to develop.  But without it we are lost – lost in our doubt, lost in our ideas, and our self-view – which is the biggest prison of all.  In the meditation practice we have the opportunity to develop that trust through our own insight.  No one else can give that to us.

Once we develop even a little bit of trust, and we spend even one moment in that place that is so pure, we want to give more and more to it.  We are willing to stay in the cave to do that.  It’s very rare that beings can stay in the cave. Most people want to run out into the sunshine.

But the imperceptible light within us is even greater.  It can light up the whole world.  In the dark of night, it can light up our hearts – even in the middle of the greatest storm.

With metta from,

The nuns’ community

Copyright © 2018 Sati Saraniya Hermitage, All rights reserved.

Humming Bird

A Single Thread is not a blog. If for some reason you need elucidation on the teaching, please contact the editor at: yao.xiang.editor@gmail.com

Unbearable Bliss

 

More and more I have less and less to say. I am like an old rusty water spigot that drips single, slow drops on some indeterminable timetable. During times when everything seems to be going well I am able to see, more than see, I am able to accept the impermanence and emptiness of every deep down thing.

This morning when it was still dark I looked at a photo of a demolished house in Florida. I just stared at it. Speechless. Without comment of any kind.

And wondered whether or not I’d see the impermanence and emptiness if I were standing looking at all of those broken things.

When we lose a shelter of any kind we feel the disruption – we see it – know it.  The nervous system in the body reacts.

Devastation of any kind brings a reaction whether we are ready or not. Devastation like a loud bang grabs us by the collar and shakes us up not as a punishment as some may suggest, as many may believe but as a chance to see the unreliable nature of stuff. Everything breaks up and falls apart – giving us, giving me the sense that everything perishes. And the perishing may be sudden or slow, may catch us unawares leaving us shaken to the core. A rude awakening, perhaps, but an awakening nonetheless.

What do we depend on when devastation comes to our home? How do we respond when the weather is not fair and sunny? Will our practice hold – or will we be blown down with the stuff?

There is no prescription. Nothing I can or want to prescribe. Not for myself or for anyone else. I meet what comes and wait for the things that have come to wake me up.

Right now my house is not in shambles, but it has been hit in the past. Right now – Bear, our oldest dog struggles for breath, suffers from tremors – thunder terrors and loss of muscle in his hind quarters. When I quiet the foolishness of the mind – when I meet what comes I am able to forget about me and meet all of it as the veil that covers his sweetness and life that is complete this moment.

I kneel down on the floor as he turns his grayish whiskered face in communion with my hand. I feel the sadness and joy. It is an almost unbearable sweetness. I tell him not to be afraid and tell myself that as well. I tell him he is OK – alright. Nothing is wrong. Not in a real sense. Nothing is wrong. He is OK despite his hard knocks. In the middle of his gums turning black, his struggle to get up; he is OK.

My work – my spiritual work is to keep the boat of me in the water without the water getting into the boat. What I mean is that my practice is to meet him and all the changes without drowning in me-thoughts, feelings, reactions, worry and all those conditioned mind-states. To see and know he is OK. Life is complete this moment.

When I get scared I get confused. What scares me is when I see the veil of his body as a permanent thing – which confuses me and rightly so. It is a delusion, a haunting ghost and I get scared. The confusion takes me to a crazy place where I think I am not a part of this veil of impermanence – that somehow I am separate from it looking on at his changing body and mind as though I am separate from aging, sickness and death. I laugh at such nonsense since my body and mind are challenged by constant ailments.  

Somewhere I know the truth frees me from being stupid and ignorant. And then I am able to see that the body and mind, his and mine, are impermanent, I relax in the leaky boat of body and mind and enjoy his old face.

I am as impermanent as him. We are in this together. We are not apart. And never have been.

The most wonderful realization of knowing this is when unconditioned love, of an almost unbearable sort, comes unbidden and I know who I am – I am not afraid. I am OK. Everything is alright. I know at an immeasurable level there is nothing to get here – no thing. He has never been mine. Nor is our 3 year old poodle. Nor my partner. Nothing is mine. Nothing is permanent. This knowing is a clarity that frees me beyond any explanation I am able to put into words.

I am not the body, not the mind, not thoughts in my head, not the intellect storage area of information, not the breath, not all the conditions of a long life – All I am able to say is what I am not…not afraid. Not overcome by the world. Not made. Not a thing. When I know this – when I know Bear – and when I know the truth we, Bear and I and all myriad things, somehow are together beyond name and form. And it is bliss that I can hardly bear. 

May this encourage all those who seek the truth.

Humming Bird

Author: FaShi Lao Yue

A Single Thread is not a blog. If for some reason you need elucidation on the teaching, please contact the editor at: yao.xiang.editor@gmail.com