Answer to Dorothy

From the time I was very young, I felt a strong connection to the longing in Judy Garland's voice, when, as Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz,  she begged for "a place where there isn't any trouble."  And as we know, there was just as much trouble, if not more, in the land over the rainbow.

In case 43 from the Blue Cliff Record, I hear something similar in the monk's question, "Where is the place where there is no heat and cold?"  Dongshan's challenge to the monk is to ask, "Why not go to the place where there is no heat or cold?"  When the monk asks where that place is, Dongshan says, "When its cold, cold finishes the monk.  When it is hot, heat demolishes the monk."  In other words, when we meet the heat and cold, meet the trouble, just as it is, the separate self is seen through. When we and the extreme states we are trying to avoid are recognized as completely intimate, suffering changes its nature.  The resistance to reality disappears, and we can be surprised at how much we can bear.

It's already been a week since the shootings at Pulse in Orlando, and we may find our hearts turning away, trying to avoid the pain of the reality of how humans can so easily be destroyed by other humans.  It's happening every day -- the destroying and the avoiding.   Our task is to notice when we turn away, and then practice the intimate art of meeting whatever is here.  We learn how to stay with pain when pain arises. We may find ourselves sobbing or shouting out in protest.  And then we can find a way to use our sorrow and our anger to actually do something, using our particular talents to help heal the burning world.   And we can also learn, by meeting the reality of our tears and rage, how to meet the arising of joy when it appears.

Here is an opportunity to experience joy and sorrow mixed, in the lovely version of "Over the Rainbow" by the late Hawaiian singer Israel Kamakawiwo'ole.

The Beech Tree in the Garden

a tree branch floats through the empty sky

the tree before its removal

A monk asked Zhaozhou, "Why did Bodhidharma come from the west?"  (Or...why are things the way they are?)  Zhaozhou replied, "The cypress tree in the garden."

An old beech tree has stood at the entryway to Boundless Way Temple since this property was built in 1908, along with a companion tree on the other side of the driveway.  The tree has been dropping branches for the last couple of years -- dangerous to humans.  We had thought about trimming it down and keeping part of the trunk to carve into a statue, perhaps of Bodhidharma.  But our tree expert told us it was rotted from the inside, which happens to these trees when they get old.  (Sounds familiar!)  So, sadly, it  is getting cut down today, all the way to the ground.  A crew of ten tiny human beings (compared to the huge tree) has spent hours carefully taking pieces of the tree from the top, lowering them with a crane, and chopping them up into wood chips.

pieces too big to hold

The tree existed, and now it no longer exists.  This is the fate of all living beings.  We bow in gratitude to the 100 plus years that this tree shaded and welcomed all who came here, and all who passed by.  We will miss you!

after

Orlando

 

 In the face of the tragic shootings in Orlando, there are no words.  And yet, we have to say something.  As a member of the Soto Zen Buddhist Association, I am touched by and stand behind this statement from our president, Hozan Alan Senauke.  May it contribute to the awakening of our government to the necessity of passing effective gun control legislation.  Too many lives have already been lost.

Soto Zen Buddhist Association Statement on the Orlando Tragedy

As members of the Soto Zen Buddhist Association — along with communities and practitioners of all faiths — we stand in solidarity with those who seek to live in peace and nonviolence, and grieve for the loss of life in Orlando. In particular we extend our heartfelt compassion to Orlando’s Latino and LBGTQ communities, their friends and families.

In the Dhammapada Shakyamuni Buddha, says: “Hatred does not cease by hatred at any time. Hatred ceases by love. This is an eternal law.” While we cannot untangle the thoughts and emotions of the shooter, quite aside from political dimensions, this is a crime motivated by delusion. Our world will never be free from conflict, but we yearn for a human culture in which one person’s views will not lead to another’s death.

We reflect, too, that mass shootings in Orlando, Paris, San Bernardino, Aurora, Newtown, and throughout the world are facilitated by the ready availability of assault-style automatic weapons. These weapons, designed for military application not for sport, do not belong on our streets.
In the name of those below, and all victims of gender violence, hatred, racism, and homophobia — our sisters and brothers — we call for people and our elected leaders to wake from delusion and vow to resolve our differences with the strength of nonviolence. In this spirit we call the names of the dead in Orlando:

Stanley Almodovar III, 23 
Amanda Alvear, 25
Oscar A Aracena-Montero, 26 
Rodolfo Ayala-Ayala, 33 
Antonio Davon Brown, 29 
Darryl Roman Burt II, 29 
Angel L. Candelario-Padro, 28 
Juan Chevez-Martinez, 25 
Luis Daniel Conde, 39
Cory James Connell, 21
Tevin Eugene Crosby, 25
Deonka Deidra Drayton, 32
Simon Adrian Carrillo Fernandez, 31 
Leroy Valentin Fernandez, 25 
Mercedez Marisol Flores, 26

Peter O. Gonzalez-Cruz, 22
Juan Ramon Guerrero, 22
Paul Terrell Henry, 41
Frank Hernandez, 27
Miguel Angel Honorato, 30
Javier Jorge-Reyes, 40
Jason Benjamin Josaphat, 19
Eddie Jamoldroy Justice, 30 
Anthony Luis Laureanodisla, 25 
Christopher Andrew Leinonen, 32 
Alejandro Barrios Martinez, 21 
Brenda Lee Marquez McCool, 49 
Gilberto Ramon Silva Menendez, 25 
Kimberly Morris, 37
Akyra Monet Murray, 18

Luis Omar Ocasio-Capo, 20 
Geraldo A. Ortiz-Jimenez, 25 
Eric Ivan Ortiz-Rivera, 36 
Joel Rayon Paniagua, 32
Jean Carlos Mendez Perez, 35 
Enrique L. Rios, Jr., 25
Jean C. Nives Rodriguez, 27
Xavier Emmanuel Serrano Rosado, 35 
Christopher Joseph Sanfeliz, 24 
Yilmary Rodriguez Solivan, 24

Edward Sotomayor Jr., 34
Shane Evan Tomlinson, 33
Martin Benitez Torres, 33 
Jonathan Antonio Camuy Vega, 24 
Juan P. Rivera Velazquez, 37
Luis S. Vielma, 22
Franky Jimmy Dejesus Velazquez, 50 
Luis Daniel Wilson-Leon, 37
Jerald Arthur Wright, 31
Omar Mateen, 29

With palms together,
Hozan Alan Senauke President, Soto Zen Buddhist Association

To see photos and read brief stories of those who died at Pulse:
http://www.npr.org/sections/thetwo-way/2016/06/12/481785763/heres-what-we-know- about-the-orlando-shooting-victims 

Buddhism 101 -- making the road by walking

Danish footpath

Last Wednesday evening we had our second class of the Buddhism 101 series.

This time we focused on the second two marks of existence, impermanence and no-self.  Through guided inquiry and contemplation, we looked into the reality of change in our lives.  When good times come, we realize they won't last.  And when bad times come, we have to remind ourselves that even these things will pass.

From this awareness of change comes the first hint of the malleability of the self itself.  Even the person we think we are changes moment to moment, breath to breath.

Suffering without the understanding of change, and how this awareness even applies to our precious self, leads to rigidity.  The path to awakening is one of fluidity.

Dharma Holder Diane Fitzgerald gifted us with this poem by Antonio Machado, translated by Willis Barnstone.  

"You walking, your footprints are the road, and nothing else; there is no road, walker, you make the road by walking.  By walking you make the road, and when you look back, you see the path that you will never step on again.  Walker, there is no road, only wind trails in the sea."

Buddhism 101 -- The Anxious Quiver

Danish anthropology museum -- Chinese musician

Last night we had our first Buddhism 101 class, taught by the guiding teachers of Boundless Way Temple:  David Dae An Rynick, Roshi, Dharma Holders James Cordova and Diane Fitzgerald, and myself.

This particular 3-part series is about the Four Marks of Existence, and last night we explored the first mark, which is the Sanskrit word "dukkha,"  commonly translated as "suffering."  The word is onomatopoeic:  it sounds like what it is.  It refers to a wheel on a cart that's out of alignment, and so makes the sound "duk, duk, duk" as it heads on down the road.  One of the discoveries in our discussion was that suffering is almost certainly the wrong word for this constant, out-of-balance accompaniment to our life.

Some Buddhist teachers posit that there can be moments when dukkha disappears, but our contention is that it persists, as a "mark" of existence, sometimes in an extreme fashion that could be called suffering, but most often as a "the anxious quiver at the core of our being" in Ezra Bayda's wonderful words.  To be able to settle in to the granular quality of this subtle quiver is the beginning of our practice of waking up.  We meet the experience granularly by becoming as intimate to it as possible, noticing any sensations in the body that accompany it, any emotions, and any thoughts churned out by our endless internal narrator.  
And in this way, we discover the second mark of existence, anicca, which means "impermanence."  Even suffering, or the more quiet version of dukkha we might call "unsatisfactoriness" or "imbalance" has a life of its own, constantly changing, intensifying and diminishing.  This is the beginning of finding our freedom, leading to the last two marks of anatta (no-self) and nirvana (awakening in the midst of everything.)

The Daffodils

The Daffodils

After spring snow has melted
some are bent and broken down
some are blooming oblivious
to the weight of the past
open to the present good luck
of being able to show up fully to the day
and some are budding,  yet to be born
all equally daffodils
greeting life just as they are

Boundless Way Spring Sesshin talks

Thanks to Steve Wallace, the talks given at our Boundless Way Zen Spring Sesshin are now available to listen to at:

Spring Sesshin 2016

Enjoy!