Jomon vs. The Smog Monster

Ah, Sesshin... no better way to draw out some of the less functional life patterns and bring them into clear, stinky, funky, wincing view. What is this koan stuff -- is it like a poultice or something? Incredible. Roshi talks about koans' ability to "drill down" into the mind and find any places of holding. Gah! She is right again!

I found myself dealing with a persistent energy of competitiveness against a Sangha member. Ridiculous? Definitely. But in Sesshin, it became impossible to ignore or avoid.

It is not news to me that I have a strong competitive streak. It has been mostly beneficial -- so I thought. Has made me get good grades, excel in sports, extracurriculars, work, etc. Just like I was supposed to, I guess.

I especially loved the rush of it in dragon boating. A 2+ minute sprint at full force, powerfully stabbing the water in unison with 21 other paddlers, shouting, grunting, with a caller in the front of the boat yelling their head off, and often full boats on either side splashing and vying for the finish with all their might, every ounce of energy. Which is really what is demanded at Sesshin: Completely wholehearted, every-ounce practice. We used to say before a race, "Leave it all on the boat," meaning don't save any energy for later. This race is now.

Dragon Boat Festival 2008 originally uploaded by monkeyleader

Maybe I should be surprised that it took this long for this competitive habit to finally try to express itself in Zen practice. Nevertheless, it was this Sesshin, I became sick with feeling less-than a particularly powerful practitioner. This person really is one whose practice is inspiring. I am still not clear how this happened, but I kept finding myself wanting to wear shades around their polished brightness, feeling comparatively lethargic and dull against their energetic vibrance, and wishing they would turn down the volume a little on their silent still-as-a-stone-Buddha awesomeness.

Perhaps the most hilarious part is that I was housed all week in the dorm called "Sympathetic Joy."

~~~

Work practice, was again, clearing blackberries, a guaranteed metaphor generator for the week's practice. Here it is: I hacked my way into a patch of the thorny vines, cutting and lopping through to the bare earth, clearing away, then I found an old beer bottle which may have been there for decades. It seemed half-full of mud. I started pouring it out, and out came... sludge. Not just any sludge, but sludge with weird black-and-orange beetles and unidentifiable lumps. It seriously was out of a horror movie. And then there was... the smell. It was the funkiest, nastiest, anaerobic cloud of fetid decay that permeated my work area and encroached on two other people's.

In silence, unable to apologize or explain, I was at a loss to figure out what to do about the puddle of stench that was now the neighborhood of stench all around me. I think it was only Day 2, so I did not have the presence of mind to bury it, or any number of options I now see. I just dealt with the feeling of having let out some really disgusting stink into the community.

Welcome to Sludge Lagoon, originally uploaded by George Vnoucek

Which is how it felt to be sitting on my zabuton in a cloud of comparative, dualistic, petty, irritable, misery hour after hour.

I would catch myself in what ended up being officially ruminative thought about this, and return to practice. Then slide back into the same. Then return to practice. I actually began to find refuge in the koan! Even that was much less miserable than the auto-immune disorder my mind kept practicing -- mounting this competitive response against someone in my own Sangha body. Perhaps this was what Nansen's cat felt like.

I suspect though it was the koan practice that triggered some of it. Here I am again and again stepping out into the unmeasurable Mystery. Where there are no metrics, no barometers, no way to tell this l'il self how it's doing. And I have no idea what the hell I am doing. And that is scary. Terrifying. So at least if I am not doing as well, then there "I" am. And falling for it over and over.

I also wonder if being competitive isn't a way to continually escape my own body, and focus on (my projection of) another person's experience.

Whatever. This competitive energy is a dirty fuel. Polluting and stinky. Costly and unsustainable.

Old-time Shell gas pump at the colorful ghost town of Chloride, AZ - chloride025x, originally uploaded by mlhradio

At least at this Sesshin, I was no longer sitting with disappointment and obsessing about when I might have, or not have some huge insight or kensho. I managed at times to stave off the rumination and just sit. Just appreciate sitting. Sit through pleasurable times, sit through painful times, sit when I felt like it, sit when I didn't, and watch it change like weather. Sat a little yaza (late night sitting) for no discernible reason I could detect. Sat "just cuz". And made super-sure not to look at the clock when I did go to bed. This was a much cleaner energy. I felt like a meditating little Prius.

I confessed my issue to the person after Sesshin was over. They of course could feel it, and we'll be chatting about it soon. Brave practitioners.

Delusions are inexhaustible. I vow to end them.

Men, Women, Blogging, Debating, and Relating

Pulling together a few threads from the Buddhoblogosphere:

There is some ongoing conversation about the different ways men and women participate (or don't) in blogging. I can't say that I've been involved in blogging long enough to have much of an opinion about this, but I have been learning a lot, and really appreciate NellaLou at Enlightenment Ward for initiating some intelligent questions about this.

Then yesterday, Nathan at Dangerous Harvests posed a question to the Buddhist blogging community about where the "line" is between the topics we do and no not blog about. This was in response to Mumon at Notes in Samsara, who, in a recent post, stated that he does not blog or even share about his practice with anyone but his teacher, as it leads to competitiveness.

One lens I have been using to understand much of this is provided by the research of George Washington University linguist, Deborah Tannen. She has been studying the communication patterns of men and women; how they differ, and why men and women might continually be misunderstanding one another. She even categorizes this as "cross cultural" communication. Her book, You Just Don't Understand, while getting on in years, is still a helpful tool in understanding and normalizing the different communication styles of men and women.

Tannen studies the communication patterns of boys and girls, which is where the communication patterns and cultural norms of men and women are formed.

"For women, as for girls, intimacy is the fabric of relationships, and talk is the thread from which it is woven. Little girls create and maintain friendships by exchanging secrets; similarly, women regard conversation as the cornerstone of friendship...What is important is not the individual subjects that are discussed but the sense of closeness, of a life shared, that emerges when people tell their thoughts, feelings, and impressions.

Bonds between boys can be as intense as girls', but they are based less on talking, more on doing things together. Boys' groups are larger, more inclusive, and more hierarchical, so boys must struggle to avoid the subordinate position in the group."

She describes that boys and men tend to use talk to establish and maintain hierarchies, and that this is often at the root of many a wife's complaint about a husband who "won't talk" when he gets home -- he does not feel the need to.

Then today, Nathan posts (how do you all post so frequently and keep up with one another?) about noticing the way many blogs, the content of which are much more personal, seem to get a lot less attention, or at least a lot less comments, but "the posts which routinely recieve a pile of comments are dramatic, irreverent, or deliberately contraversial."

Well I haven't read it yet, but Deborah Tannen has written a book on this too: The Argument Culture is her examination of this very phenomenon now pervading so many aspects of our lives. You can read a great article about it here.

Deborah Tannen again:

"In his book "Fighting for Life," Walter Ong points out that men use "agonistic" or warlike, oppositional formats to do almost anything; thus discussion becomes debate, and conversation a competitive sport. In contrast, women see conversation as a ritual means of establishing rapport. If Jane tells a problem and June says she has a similar one, they walk away feeling closer to each other. But this attempt at establishing rapport can backfire when used with men. Men take too literally women's ritual "troubles talk," just as women mistake men's ritual challenges for real attack."

Not that any one way is "bad" or wrong", but as NellaLou has pointed out, there is a spectrum somewhere between "catatonic and hysterical" which leaves an awfully large swathe of Middle Way. And this could shed some light on the different ways as well as the different reasons men and women blog.

Tannen adds the disclaimer:

"This is not to say that all women and all men, or all boys and girls, behave any one way. Many factors influence our styles, including regional and ethnic backgrounds, family experience and individual personality. But gender is a key factor, and understanding its influence can help clarify what happens when we talk."

Indeed, my own very general impressions have been that Buddhist women's blogs do lean more towards the personal / practice side of the spectrum, and men's more towards talking about worldly events and inviting discussion / debate about things.

These questions have caused me to ponder why I blog. Initially, I thought it would be a way for my friends (the ones I knew before) to keep up with me. This is who I thought I would be talking to. Some of my friends indeed are avid readers of this blog, and it is really handy to write and share about my experiences with Zen practice here. However, it turns out, a good amount of my friends are not very interested in this media at all.

Surprisingly to me, I have found that a whole community of Buddhist practitioners is interested in this media, and whom I find very interesting. It turns out that one of the reasons I blog is to connect with this community. And not surprisingly to me, the way I seem to be doing that is by sharing my personal experience with practice. Because I have no interest in jumping into any fray of debate with anyone.

I want to end with and echo this comment about "the line of telling and not telling", from another amazing woman Buddhist blogger at zendotstudio:

"For me one of the first things I noticed and truly admired about my Zen teacher was her sense of transparency, her willingness to share her daily practice with us. And truly that was the real beginning of my own practice. I learned so much by seeing how she manouvered her way through small situations, what bothered her, how she worked with it. It was the best instruction for me.

And of course everyone needs to decide where the comfort level of transparency is for them. And to look at why, perhaps?

And there is a phrase I remember from Dharma talks and I don't know who this it attributed to, "if you know one mango, you know them all." Your stuff, my stuff, it's not all that different. I think we write our blogs for many different reasons but I think it is always an offering."

New Year's Eve, Zen Style

This ceremony is what helped me first feel connected to this community about five years ago, and I have not missed it since. I do love a good ceremony. On New Year's Eve, the Zen Community of Oregon and Dharma Rain Zen Center join together to create a lovely New Years' celebration. I believe they have been doing this for decades.

It begins with what is probably the best vegetarian potluck in the Pacific Northwest since Thanksgiving at Great Vow Zen Monastery. If you show up early, so many new dishes, er, people have shown up, you can have a completely different meal at seconds.

After a hearty meal and lots of chit chat, the group will split into about half or 2/3, with most going upstairs to participate in some very easy sacred circle dances. Chozen Roshi loves to lead these old dances from various cultures and countries, and always manages to weave in some Dharma teaching into all of them. Those who are not dancing are, quite gratefully I am told, washing all the dishes, pots and pans.

I enjoy the dancing, and am always amazed by how much I do. These dances are gentle and forgiving, can allow for turning inward (some can even be done with eyes closed), or focusing outward into the larger body and all of our fumbling magnificence.

The large number of dancers usually heats up the Zendo quite impressively, and the big windows get opened, and usually stay that way all evening.

The dancing transitions into the evening's program, and people are given small pieces of paper and writing implements, so as to write down anything particularly unskillful to be let go of in the coming year. There is a shifting and a quieting as the dishwashers are reassured that the coast is clear, and people can begin to come upstairs, settle down on a cushion and reflect on a few things in need of refinement.

During this time, the teachers and all the monastics go to change into their robes. The coming evening program is relatively formal, with lots of bells, a ton of bowing, and the big taiko drum! The teachers carry their sticks, wear their malas, and Kyogen even carries his fly whisk. Although it is formal, despite all the "smells and bells" I do find it very accessible.

The burning bowl is set up in front of the altar, with two of the teachers there to tend it, usually saying something about the transformational quality of practice. Chanting begins, and people are given an opportunity to step forward and burn their small paper in the fire.

There is a Fusatsu Ceremony, including the Gatha of Atonement:

All evil karma

ever committed by me

since of old

on account of my beginningless

greed anger and ignorance

born of my body, mouth, and thought

now I atone for it all.

Then we verbally and physically take refuge; recommitting to the Precepts, and offering a full body prostration after each one, to help the body absorb its vows, and to express them bodily.

We list and chant Being One with the Buddhas and Bodhisattvas, with bells and bows after each precept, and after each ancestor is announced. I am usually pleasantly sore in the morning from all these full prostrations.

When the precepts and honoring the ancestors are done, there is quiet as the hour approaches midnight. Participants sit in Zazen, and four people, two from each Sangha are chosen to ring the big bell and offer a bow 27 times each, bringing the total to 108 bows (I got to do this two years ago) while Southeast Portland erupts all around us into the new year.

During this time, the four teachers go through each of the rows and individually, reverently, ceremonially pour and serve each student a small cup of sparkling cider. It is a way to express humility, honor, and respect in this relationship. After all are served, there are a few words, and then it's done! "Happy New Year!"

Then I go find my husband Bansho and give him a kiss.

When we first attended this, you know what the most striking difference was? Feeling bright and clear on New Year's Day -- not hung over the next morning. Not that I used to get fall-down drunk on New Year's Eve or anything, but just staying up that late while nursing a buzz for 4-5 hours will lead to some foggy-headed late-sleeping mornings needing more recovery than anything.

This is a blessed tradition, one that I cherish, as is writing a death poem, or a poem of our deepest understanding for the year. These are shared the next day. I am working on mine for this year. Last year's was posted here.

Happy New Year!

Upholding the Sangha Treasure

I'm pretty excited these days about a new project at the Zen Center I have decided to call:

Upholding the Sangha Treasure.

As Buddhists, we vow to take refuge in the three treasures, or the three jewels. Here is my humble understanding of this vow. The three jewels are:

• Buddha -- Finding a teacher -- someone who is connected through the lineage to the historic Buddha himself. Also the Buddha within -- my direct experience of life.
  
• Dharma -- the teachings of the Buddha
  
• Sangha -- the people with whom we practice -- others on the Path. The Sangha is the equivalent to a congregation.

We vow to lean into them and apply and express them wholeheartedly. Part of taking the precepts in our tradition includes writing about our understanding of them. Here is a little bit of my writing from almost a year ago about the three treasures:

Taking Refuge in the Buddha

...when I take refuge in the Buddha, it is the Buddha within me – my senses, by ability to perceive and experience the physicality of this moment. My fingertips on the computer keys, my belly digesting lunch, the air going in and out of my nose, the skin all over my body, feeling the air and clothes and temperature. All this touching of the earth, and interfacing and being stirred into the whole universe. When I awaken to this, it certainly feels like taking refuge. It certainly feels like resting, and simplifying, even as I open to countless millions of things happening, it is still calmer and less busy than all that thinking.

Taking Refuge in the Dharma

Taking refuge in the teachings. Listening to them, applying them, experimenting, trying them on for myself. Asking, “Is that so?” I was not much of a reader of the Dharma prior to coming to practice, which, from what I understand can be a good thing. I notice that when I am listening to Dharma talks in my car, or after a Dharma talk, weekend retreat, etc, I am usually able to immediately practice what the teachings suggest. Whether I do so gracefully is another thing, but the Teachings I find to be completely practical, and applicable to everything real in my life, and again, I find a calmness, a comfort when I do take refuge in them.

Taking Refuge in the Sangha

BTW: This awesome photo was taken at Great Vow Zen Monastery just after a week-long retreat focusing on the koan of "Mu" during which the whole group often yelled it sang it growled it ate it breathed it throughout the sitting periods!

I am usually very comfortable on the giving and sharing end of things, but taking refuge suggests allowing the Sangha to help me, too. And the ways that this has happened most for me has been in meditation instruction, the classes, the very container of practice when sitting – others’ practice strengthens my own. New people coming to practice, and being asked to welcome them, or teach meditation instruction has given my own practice great energy and focus. Making mistakes as the chant leader in front of the Sangha has helped me to observe my own Inner Critic and see myself with the kind of compassion I receive from the Sangha. I am amazed that the Buddha was able to do all of this on his own, and it makes me so very glad that I don’t have to.

~ ~ ~

And this is as lovely and concise (two & a half pages) a dharma talk about Sangha, by none other than Chozen Bays. She references the fact that the Sangha Treasure often gets short shrift. This tendency is sometimes referred to as two jewels and a rock.

So why this focus on Sangha?

Our Zen group is currently limited by the amount of days available for rent at
the Portland Dharma Center 2514 SE Madison Currently we sit here

Thursday and Sunday nights at 7:30.
Monday mornings from 6-7 am, and
Tuesday nights start July 1 at 7:30.

So we are working towards acquiring a Portland building of our own, which means fundraising and organization as well as commitment to stepping up and being the ones who are there to make more teachings available. We are not ready to purchase anything at the moment, BUT we are getting ready.

One way to get ready is to see if we can't grow a little more before making such a big move. We are planning more programs, weekend workshops, etc. for the coming year. We are also looking at what a transition from a smallish membership to a larger membership would entail. Apparently this can sometimes be a difficult transition to make, and there can be losses along the way. So in a big change like this, it is important to focus on membership, and to be more conscious and awake about what we are doing. Thankfully, this wheel has already been invented.

I volunteered to digest and then gather some folks to learn about a spiritual / congregational roadmap of sorts from the Alban Institute. The Alban Institute is a Christian organization that has done a lot of research into these kinds of topics, and it publishes materials for congregations who are going through growth, transitions, etc. The Zen Community of Oregon had gone through a similar process with these materials many years ago, and found it to be enormously helpful.

My plan is to focus on this workbook, and work through it with some older and some newer practitioners. Together we will figure out how it translates into Zen. My friend Robin will be helping -- she has a near allergic sensitivity to proselytizing, having graduated from an evangelical Christian college, and will be my sniff tester for Zen-zealotry, or Zevangelicalism.


I have a lot of energy for this. I am very excited about it. It feels foundational. It feels important, it feels like a good fit for my skills, a contribution I can make, but most importantly, it feels like practice. Practice that's not sitting alone with myself and my roller derby mind, practice that's not reading about Zen, but practice with the Sangha treasure -- that can be grittier and scarier, but no less important.