See You In August!

I should be packing. I'm heading to the 35th annual Michigan Womyn's Music Festival (my 17th).

Not much to say these days.

So I leave you with some random recent shots of the Heavenly Realm that is the Pacific Northwest. One of its Rose Gardens, the Japanese Garden, some rural mountain views, and "gorge"ousness from the Columbia River Gorge.

There are people atop this falls - see if you can find them for scale.

May we all be deeply happy.

Who Is the True Person of No Rank?

Master Rinzai, taking the high seat in the hall, said,

“On your five foot lump of red flesh is a true person of no rank who is always going in and out of the face of every one of you. Those who have not yet confirmed this, LOOK! LOOK!”

A monk came forward and asked, “Who is the true person of no rank?

The Master got down from his seat, seized the monk, and cried, “SPEAK! SPEAK!”

The monk faltered. Shoving him away, the Master said, “This true person of no rank -- what kind of shit-stick is he.”

Then Master Rinzai returned to his quarters.

After holding this koan very lightly for a few years, not even knowing anything about it beyond the first sentence, it was time to practice more deeply with it, give a talk about it to the community, and then be questioned about my understanding in the exit ceremony marking the completion of a one year term of service as the Shuso, or Head of Zendo (the Shuso-Hossen ceremony).

A few months before the ceremony, as we were talking about the end of the Shuso term and this inevitable ceremony, my teacher, the Venerable Hogen Bays, asked me if there were any koans that resonated with me that I might talk about. And I answered honestly: The True Person of No Rank. And so it became the koan I would sit with and then talk about.

I replayed that exchange quite a few times thereafter, wondering if I should have even admitted that this koan was alive for me. Because once I started really looking at it, I quickly discovered that it is so much bigger than me. And that is exactly the point, isn't it?

Master Rinzai, though? I mean, what a badass! What the hell was I thinking when I picked this koan? It required energy. Mainly just getting out of the way. And shouting.

Shuso-Hossen is one of the Zenniest ceremonies we do, complete with a stick (shippei). My friend Stacey said I reminded her of the Monkey in the Lion King.

I can totally see the resemblance.

The stick gets thumped on a wooden block after a questioner is satisfied:

Questioner: "Thank you for your answer."

Shuso: "May your life go well." *bang of stick*

Tangent: Have you ever noticed those little orbs of light in digital photos? There's been a whole Sangha discussion about this phenomenon on Facebook. The orbs were representin' at this ceremony.

Anyway, after the questions are finished, the outgoing Shuso says this:

“I was asked by my teachers to fulfill this role. Even though my understanding is inadequate and my experience is limited I have done my best. I ask that you for give me for my mistakes and unskillful actions. I hope that some of my efforts have been helpful in freeing people from suffering and supporting this great adventure. I thank the sangha for your support and teachings during this term.”

Then the incoming Head of Zendo leads the outgoing in Juhai. A moving and humbling experience in which we thread our way through the entire Zendo, bowing in gratitude and respect, and being bowed to by the whole Sangha.

What's also really humbling and amazing is just all this gratitude for our Teachers. This Fool just stumbled into such fortunate circumstances.

I have been so lucky, so honored, so stretched serving in this capacity. How the heck did this even happen? I had to grow into it. And I admit to you now, oh blogosphere, that I cried the whole way home from my installation ceremony a year ago. Mainly because the role of Shuso was / is so visible. And the fact of this impending ceremony made me want to sign up for a second year as Head of Zendo, just to delay it!

But I am so grateful for the deepening and opening that the role and the koan demanded. It brought me face-to-face with some of the most painful self-holding habits: The bodily response of terror to not-knowing, and the oft-blogged-about, broken-record thought "What will they think of me?" Which is (some of) what this koan is about!

It seems to me that a koan is like a very powerful computer; some of the features may be revealed as you tinker with it, but you can soon see that there is endless capacity and function. There are some traditions in which a single koan is assigned for a student's entire life. This may very well be "my" koan.

One neat practice that came about in working with this koan was to really look at every person I saw, and say to myself, "True Person." It would take about 30 seconds of this before there would develop an involuntary and genuine smile my face, and a deep appreciation at all the amazing, unique expressions of the True Person -- size, shape, color, age, walk, talk, eyes, mannerisms -- everything. This practice can be particularly enjoyable in heavily populated areas, like transit centers, or in the grocery store.

It's weird to let go of the Shuso duties. I know they are in the most competent hands now: Mad props to Kodo-san! I've heard it said though, "once the Shuso, always the Shuso". I can see how that is true. There's a mothering feeling that seems to have happened here. Or maybe that's just called love.

But my first night back in the Zendo after the ceremony, it felt so good to just sit, melting anonymously into one of the rows (it could also have been the heat I was melting into). It felt like re-joining the herd, or like a flying goose who is done with her turn on the point of the 'V', dropping back to rest in the slipstream of the flock.

May all our lives go well.

Metta

Some catching up and brief reflection on attending the Loving-kindness Sesshin at the end of June:

It was such a gift to be able to sit, sit, sit after the difficulties of our situation with Hannah, the 2 year old labrador. The first entire day, practice was about giving ourselves loving-kindness:

May I be free from fear and anxiety.

May I be at ease.

May I be deeply happy.

There may be a little trepidation about the way the phrases are used here. I was initially a bit nervous about actually invoking the words "fear" and "anxiety." Aren't we supposed to frame things in the positive? Verbalize what it is we want, not what we don't want? I attended a New Thought Church for a time, and learned all about that kind of practice with manifesting things through our thoughts a la The Secret (which always ended up being about having and getting more stuff aka prosperity, abundance, etc).

What I realized in this Metta practice though, is that not saying the words "fear" and "anxiety" is like walking around in a jungle and not saying the word "green." Fear and anxiety, however subtle, seem to permeate everything. So the first phrase is a simple recognition of that reality. Dispelling. I like to imagine one of those rough wooden brooms made of twigs passing through the body, collecting fear and anxiety like sticky, foggy cobwebs.

Not avoiding the grief and sadness of Hannah, it seemed to process quickly. That and the powerful container of Sesshin. I was able to simply be present with it as it unwound.

And then there was the event of the future: Shuso-Hossen. Scheduled for July 1, Shuso-Hossen is the exit ceremony for my year-long term as Head of Zendo. It includes a talk, given by the outgoing Shuso about the koan they have been working on. Then the floor is open for questions from every person in the room if they so choose, the purpose of which is to test the Shuso's deepest understanding. It is sometimes known as Dharma combat, but Chozen Roshi helped me reframe it much more gently as "two arrows meeting in mid-air."

Sometimes in Sesshin, I would realize that every minute was drawing me closer to this event. I was mostly able to ride the waves of fear and self-doubt. I did wipe out a couple times Saturday evening and Sunday morning with some brutal Inner Critic attacks and what is now the perfunctory sitting an entire period (or more) quietly and constantly weeping.

It was surprising to me to feel such fear on the last days of a Sesshin. Especially one so ostensibly full of sweetness and light -- Loving-kindness! But I was not the only one. Several of us ended Sesshin with deep stirrings of fear, anger, pain. Roshi says that Sesshin works and shifts things so deeply in the unconscious mind, that the conscious mind can't know what is going on. But it knows something is going on. So it launches a five-alarm reaction. The story it gloms onto is pretty much arbitrary.

Past or future, the mind seems to flee this moment. Why does it do that? Why does it take so long to settle it down and then it rears up all over again like a terrified horse spooked by a plastic bag.

Never mind. The medicine is the same.

May I be free from fear and anxiety.

May I be at ease.

May I be deeply happy.