Friday, December 30, 2011
worldliness
One of those nights where, in the spirit of comradery, too many drinks are drunk, too many cigarettes smoked. Life stories and realizations emerge, cigarette after cigarette. Its cold outside this bar in Oakland and I'm shivering. I don't judge myself on nights like this: out of the poisons, buddha-nature shines forth. On the bart ride home, despite having taxed my system, prana is flowing freely. It's so obvious but I'll write it anyway: worldliness is often filled with insight and love.
Thursday, December 29, 2011
The Aesthetics of Sangha
During this past year, I've been watching a number of my friends grow in their spiritual practice. And it strikes me that one of the blessings of sangha is that, when we bring our reflection and devotion to really witnessing it, sangha shows itself as beautiful in a number of ways. For example, it is truly beautiful to watch the spiritual paths of those around you unfold. It is a great blessing to be around other beings who are unfolding in this way, and a blessing to notice this specific type of beauty.
Knowing that friends of mine are growing, especially spiritually, fills me with joy. To see this occurring is a major source of happiness. However, I don't always see it: to see it, I sometimes have to set the intention to look for it. I have to develop a practice of watching how the beings around me are changing. Without this intention and practice, I may catch a random glimpse of growth from time to time. I may notice only months down the road. But as a teacher, and in the past as a lover, I've learned that seeing growth is a skill, and that if you learn to see, you can be present with the growth of a person on a regular basis. Being present to the growth and changes in a person is, for me, one of the great experiences of being alive.
When we visualize, we actively create ourselves. If I visualize myself as being filled with love, I actually create the condition for being more loving. Having created that energy in visualization, it more naturally flows out. It also helps to visualize friends and other people as being filled with love, with calm, with strength, with clarity. While I don't believe that this practice has any direct effect on whoever I'm visualizing, I do feel that this practice helps me see them, helps me to become sensitive to their energy and deepest needs. It's important to look at all beings as having the capacity to be filled with great love, calm, and clarity.
As part of this visualization, I bring specific people to my attention, and practice just fully being with them and feeling their energy: who is this being? Imagine anyone, and just be fully with them. What do you witness? How has their energy been? What shifts have you noticed, perhaps unconsciously? For me, this visualization is a deep practice. I often begin to see their spiritual growth, even if (like most things) I can't verbalize it. When I do this practice on a regular basis, I begin to see wonderful subtlties in all people. I see their troubles, I see their growth, sometimes I see their growth arising from their troubles.
I can certainly be a better friend if I nourish myself in this way. But it is also a way to really see how beautiful the sangha is, and to not slip into disparaging the triple treasure by not seeing it so well.
The other day I was talking with a friend about a vaguealy related topic. She was actually talking not about visualization, but about the senses: if we pay attention to our sense of smell while out on a walk, even if only for ten minutes, our sense of smell increases in subtlety. We notice smells we did not notice at all before, we notice many intermingling smells, even a symphony of smells. And if we do this a few times a week, we become more inclined to smell, or to look at small details, or to look with that type of gaze that takes everything in all at once, or to notice colors more than we have been, or to really feel the air on our skin, the way it curves around us. By bringing our focus to these things, even for only short periods of times, we grow a great deal, we may even gain a heightened awareness of the way our minds and emotions react to all the stimuli of the world. We actually become more skilled at using our senses - not only at noticing things, but at processing them in a healthy way, in a nourishing way, in the way we may need particularly in a certain moment.
Knowing that friends of mine are growing, especially spiritually, fills me with joy. To see this occurring is a major source of happiness. However, I don't always see it: to see it, I sometimes have to set the intention to look for it. I have to develop a practice of watching how the beings around me are changing. Without this intention and practice, I may catch a random glimpse of growth from time to time. I may notice only months down the road. But as a teacher, and in the past as a lover, I've learned that seeing growth is a skill, and that if you learn to see, you can be present with the growth of a person on a regular basis. Being present to the growth and changes in a person is, for me, one of the great experiences of being alive.
When we visualize, we actively create ourselves. If I visualize myself as being filled with love, I actually create the condition for being more loving. Having created that energy in visualization, it more naturally flows out. It also helps to visualize friends and other people as being filled with love, with calm, with strength, with clarity. While I don't believe that this practice has any direct effect on whoever I'm visualizing, I do feel that this practice helps me see them, helps me to become sensitive to their energy and deepest needs. It's important to look at all beings as having the capacity to be filled with great love, calm, and clarity.
As part of this visualization, I bring specific people to my attention, and practice just fully being with them and feeling their energy: who is this being? Imagine anyone, and just be fully with them. What do you witness? How has their energy been? What shifts have you noticed, perhaps unconsciously? For me, this visualization is a deep practice. I often begin to see their spiritual growth, even if (like most things) I can't verbalize it. When I do this practice on a regular basis, I begin to see wonderful subtlties in all people. I see their troubles, I see their growth, sometimes I see their growth arising from their troubles.
I can certainly be a better friend if I nourish myself in this way. But it is also a way to really see how beautiful the sangha is, and to not slip into disparaging the triple treasure by not seeing it so well.
The other day I was talking with a friend about a vaguealy related topic. She was actually talking not about visualization, but about the senses: if we pay attention to our sense of smell while out on a walk, even if only for ten minutes, our sense of smell increases in subtlety. We notice smells we did not notice at all before, we notice many intermingling smells, even a symphony of smells. And if we do this a few times a week, we become more inclined to smell, or to look at small details, or to look with that type of gaze that takes everything in all at once, or to notice colors more than we have been, or to really feel the air on our skin, the way it curves around us. By bringing our focus to these things, even for only short periods of times, we grow a great deal, we may even gain a heightened awareness of the way our minds and emotions react to all the stimuli of the world. We actually become more skilled at using our senses - not only at noticing things, but at processing them in a healthy way, in a nourishing way, in the way we may need particularly in a certain moment.
Sunday, December 18, 2011
This evening, though feeling under the weather and skipping out on my Blake reading group, I feel calm and contented, at ease with the elements. Scrolling through the dharma talk archives, I came across Mel Weitsman's talk, Air, Earth, Fire, Water. The title seemed to potentially fit my mood, and it had been a long time since I've heard Mel's voice. He was the first Zen teacher I ever came across - I have a very clear memory of hearing him talk five years ago at the Berkeley zendo. The talk was an existential experience. I remember feeling incredibly heavy: "Oh my God, this is a real teacher... now that I know this exists, what do I do?"
After the talk the sangha had tea outside, and I got up the courage to walk up to him. I think I just said something like, "thank you, your talk meant a lot to me." And I think he said something like, "Thank you." He had a twinkle in his eye. I felt embarrassed because I had a lot of desire to study Zen, and could tell he knew it. I wanted to ask him for advice but decided I should develop a practice first, which I didn't do for a few years, and I haven't spoken to him since then.
Mel's talk reminded me of the teachers sacred outlook on life. The teacher sees the present reality of the student through the lens of helping the student channel their energies of the moment into their future potential. So a teacher viewing stubbornness helps the student channel that into great dedication. Similarly, the teachers experience of the student has to do not only with the student right in front of them but with this potential. Many people would experience a stubborn person through becoming exasperated, but the teacher, like a bodhisattva, may have a very different, positive experience this negative quality as a positive potential. The whole notion of "negative" gets thrown up in the air by this perspective.
In a very poetic part of the talk, Mel talks about how desire should not be eradicated, but channeled and transformed. Students with a fiery nature, like a burning sun, may use passion in destructive rather than creative ways, including undermining their practice. However, learning to channel that passion, that burning, destructive sun can become a beautiful sunset - something warm, calm, inspiring and peaceful. Listening to the talk, I experienced a powerful emotion as I considered that just as I see some of my fiery students as potential beautiful sunsets, perhaps there are also Zen teachers who are looking at my friends and I in this light. I feel there ought to be some word for that feeling adults have when they know their elders are caring for them in this way.
After the talk the sangha had tea outside, and I got up the courage to walk up to him. I think I just said something like, "thank you, your talk meant a lot to me." And I think he said something like, "Thank you." He had a twinkle in his eye. I felt embarrassed because I had a lot of desire to study Zen, and could tell he knew it. I wanted to ask him for advice but decided I should develop a practice first, which I didn't do for a few years, and I haven't spoken to him since then.
Mel's talk reminded me of the teachers sacred outlook on life. The teacher sees the present reality of the student through the lens of helping the student channel their energies of the moment into their future potential. So a teacher viewing stubbornness helps the student channel that into great dedication. Similarly, the teachers experience of the student has to do not only with the student right in front of them but with this potential. Many people would experience a stubborn person through becoming exasperated, but the teacher, like a bodhisattva, may have a very different, positive experience this negative quality as a positive potential. The whole notion of "negative" gets thrown up in the air by this perspective.
In a very poetic part of the talk, Mel talks about how desire should not be eradicated, but channeled and transformed. Students with a fiery nature, like a burning sun, may use passion in destructive rather than creative ways, including undermining their practice. However, learning to channel that passion, that burning, destructive sun can become a beautiful sunset - something warm, calm, inspiring and peaceful. Listening to the talk, I experienced a powerful emotion as I considered that just as I see some of my fiery students as potential beautiful sunsets, perhaps there are also Zen teachers who are looking at my friends and I in this light. I feel there ought to be some word for that feeling adults have when they know their elders are caring for them in this way.
Saturday, December 17, 2011
Blake
Rising early to sit the full Saturday zazen this morning, I thought of my friend David. I thought of all the work he puts into creating communities of activism as well as of thoughtfulness and scholarship. As I was getting dressed around 6AM to be at the zendo by 6:30, I just stood still and let myself be with my thoughts of him, let myself be with that place within myself from which those thoughts arose. Why do I wake this morning and think, so strongly, of David?
This Sunday, a half dozen people will cook dinner in his Berkeley apartment and discuss Blake's Prophetic Books, the section on Milton. I should support that. I have a long experience with many people expressing the desire for such communities of study, but know that even given this sincere desire, follow through is hard to come by. But I should follow through. Following through produces faith, and faith produces many lovely things. I had promised myself not to drink coffee this morning, but with a bit of a sigh, I brewed a cup, turned my heater back on, did not walk to the zendo, and immersed myself in The Prophetic Works. And after reading for two hours, stood up for a break and wrote this entry. Sometimes, its okay to break various promises to oneself, promises to sit zazen, to not drink coffee - everything seems to be as it should be this morning. And I will attend the dharma talk ;)
This Sunday, a half dozen people will cook dinner in his Berkeley apartment and discuss Blake's Prophetic Books, the section on Milton. I should support that. I have a long experience with many people expressing the desire for such communities of study, but know that even given this sincere desire, follow through is hard to come by. But I should follow through. Following through produces faith, and faith produces many lovely things. I had promised myself not to drink coffee this morning, but with a bit of a sigh, I brewed a cup, turned my heater back on, did not walk to the zendo, and immersed myself in The Prophetic Works. And after reading for two hours, stood up for a break and wrote this entry. Sometimes, its okay to break various promises to oneself, promises to sit zazen, to not drink coffee - everything seems to be as it should be this morning. And I will attend the dharma talk ;)
Friday, December 16, 2011
Thank you dishes :)
Tonight was a special night at the temple for me. Although I have been practicing, I haven't felt in touch with the path for about a month. Something has been off - I haven't really felt anything I could call the spirit of zen. But washing dishes in semi-silence this evening, I had that feeling again of actually knowing and feeling something about what zen is.
It's funny that just a few minutes before that, I was sending text messages in the dining hall. I'd become a bit too cavalier, not being mindful of what the space is for. While feeling truly blessed to have the Zen Center in my life, I'd also begun taking the temple for granted. And while thinking a great deal about building sangha, it's become a bit too much of a social space for me - I've often felt like I'm going there to hang out. Not that there's anything innately wring with that! That social space is wonderful and important, but so is washing dishes, so is slowing down, so is being silent and just being. Come to think of it, all those elements are really very much what I want of the Zen Center as a social space. Just being with people, in a quiet way, just sharing presence, is a deeply social activity.
So I hope I can keep myself focused, not just on being physically present there, not only in reading books for some upcoming study group, and not only making friends, but in really being there to feel and cultivate something called zen. And I hope to start writing this blog once again, which, having been feeling rather inauthentic recently, I have not been able to write. These phases are all part of the growing process I suppose...
It's funny that just a few minutes before that, I was sending text messages in the dining hall. I'd become a bit too cavalier, not being mindful of what the space is for. While feeling truly blessed to have the Zen Center in my life, I'd also begun taking the temple for granted. And while thinking a great deal about building sangha, it's become a bit too much of a social space for me - I've often felt like I'm going there to hang out. Not that there's anything innately wring with that! That social space is wonderful and important, but so is washing dishes, so is slowing down, so is being silent and just being. Come to think of it, all those elements are really very much what I want of the Zen Center as a social space. Just being with people, in a quiet way, just sharing presence, is a deeply social activity.
So I hope I can keep myself focused, not just on being physically present there, not only in reading books for some upcoming study group, and not only making friends, but in really being there to feel and cultivate something called zen. And I hope to start writing this blog once again, which, having been feeling rather inauthentic recently, I have not been able to write. These phases are all part of the growing process I suppose...
Thursday, December 1, 2011
Before that...
This evening I am a very tired but satisfied boy, with no desire to think much at all. So this is me writing a blog devoid of any intellectual effort whatsoever. Ah....
1) A long, good day, primarily spent writing a thesis proposal: What notions of “civilized” and “uncivilized” do
sixth graders bring with them into the classroom, and how does learning about
historical resistance to civilization affect those notions?
In other words, basically an excuse for me to study and teach historical resistance to the forces of civilization :)
Really though, I have a hypothesis I want to test. Studying resistance to civilization is one of the clearest ways to portray the intelligence of historically marginalized peoples, people like peasants who are stereotyped as rather dimwitted. So I want to see how teaching these intelligences effects the notions students have of civilized and uncivilized, i.e., of who is smart and who is stupid, who is worthy of respect (and study) and who is not.
2) Before all that, a lovely morning coffee with a friend from Young Urban Zen. We talked about the recent proposal to form study groups, which has many of us excited. I hope we can bring a great deal of sincerity to it! We discussed how our continuous collective effort to understand the dharma would be one of the best ways to strengthen our young sangha. Morning coffee with zen friends = one fine way to start the day! In other words, start sending zen friends early morning coffee invites :)
3) Before that, a way-seeking mind talk, which I always enjoy... people have so many stories and so many different ways of describing how they came to the path.
4) Before that, a lovely morning zazen. It was one of the few times that I've sat with my eyes closed for the entire period. I was in some deep, calm place because...
5) I woke up at 4AM and practiced pranayama. Unable to sleep I had practiced at intervals all throughout the night. I could feel my prana become clearer and clearer after each round, and when I finally fell asleep I had powerful dreams, from which I awoke with a calm desire to immediately reengage the practice. All of which has me thinking, once again, of re-embracing the part of myself that is so drawn to yoga.
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