Stories and The End: Dharma teachings from Canada (and Hollywood)

Sarah Polley

Seth Rogen

Over the last two days, I've seen two very different movies.  "Stories We Tell" is more or less a documentary, made by the Canadian actor and director Sarah Polley, about her discovery of the identity of her biological father.  Seth Rogen, also a Canadian actor and director, brings us "This is the End."   Rogen's film is more or less not a documentary, and follows the story of real, well-known actors, playing versions of themselves, as they face the Apocalypse.

Both movies were made by young artists who use the conventions of story-telling in wildly playful ways.  Any expectations we may be holding about reality, narrative, behavior and morality are all turned around, again and again.  The narrative structure of Polley's movie moves in spirals, as she interviews family and friends about the events of her late mother's life.  Three times at least, the movie takes some sharp turns as the reality she has presented to us is shown to be partial and, in some cases, incorrect.

In "This is the End" the narrative is more straight-forward, but also endlessly surprising.  In both films, we think we understand the personalities and behaviors of various characters, and then our understanding shifts.  In "Stories We Tell" I actually gasped at one point, and laughed a little at other points.   In Rogen's movie,  I laughed a lot.

I was impressed and moved by Polley's movie, but I didn't really enjoy it.  When I left the theater, I felt mentally and emotionally disoriented and a little bit nauseated.  And in the days that have followed, images of the people and events continue to play in my mind.  Her attempt to show us how we construct narrative and meaning is very similar to my understanding of the true nature of  memory -- endlessly re-creating itself.  It was a full meal, and I'm still digesting it.  In many ways, it's a great piece of art, skillfully put together, beautiful at times and disturbing in important ways.

I throughly enjoyed Rogen's movie, but it's not a great movie in the same way that Polley's is.   Even in its gory, shocking and violent moments, I was never disturbed.  I felt safe and delighted.   And, although "This is the End" does raise some questions about the nature of redemption, love and ethical behavior, any time spent in being philosophical is time wasted -- a distraction from the main point: simple entertainment.

Both directors manipulate us, one to make us question reality, the other to be unquestioningly amused.  I appreciate both intentions, and recognize these two styles as ways of teaching the Dharma -- disorientation and playfulness are tools in my own teaching repertoire.   My preference is some mixture of both styles, set on a base of compassion for all of us who tell stories, make memories and try to figure out the meaning of life.

Warning: Elderly People

My husband David Rynick in North Wales, UK

I was inspired to write a short reflection on aging by the lovely one posted today by my teacher James Ford on his Monkey Mind blog.  (If you don't know Monkey Mind, you're in for a treat...Plus, there's a video of Frank Sinatra.)

Being quite youthful myself -- only 59 -- I can feel myself tipping steadily -- or is it unsteadily? -- into my 60th year.  Younger people seem to project more mother-like attributes than sister-like ones onto me.  And my recovery from physical injuries and illnesses seems impossibly slower than I ever remember.  Death is clearly approaching, softening me up for the ultimate fall.

Of course, the positive side of the approach to 60 years is that my recovery from emotional injuries is much more rapid.  This may have something to do with the seemingly endless hours spent in meditation over the decades, sitting still and coming to terms with all the nonsense produced by my mind and heart, but who knows?

All I really know is that I truly appreciate the helpful road signs posted by the good people of North Wales.  Consider yourself warned.

A Dog! The Buddha Nature!

Here is a lovely video of my teacher, James Ford, talking about how to engage in koan practice.  I agree with every word and gesture!  Thanks James...

old devil time

After spending some time with an old friend who was in a life crisis, I remembered this song -- it gave us both a lift:

Advice from a very young Zen teacher

A dear friend sent me this video today, ...a living embodiment of "there is nothing I don't love."

Instructions on emptying the mind

Short version:  drop the broom!

Longer version:  The 13th-century Zen master Keizan Jokin ends one of his many beautiful poems with  these lines:  "Most people want to have pure clarity, but sweep as you will, you cannot empty the mind."  So many people come to me with a wish for an empty mind, and my response is generally the same.  No matter what we want, and no matter how much effort we put into it,  we can't make our mind empty of thoughts.  Thoughts naturally come and go, and, as we like to say, the mind secretes thoughts in the same way that the stomach secretes acid.

Most of us have had the experience, when we first begin to meditate, that our thoughts appear to increase.  Of course, this is only because before settling down into a still, quiet posture, and turning our attention on what is arising from moment to moment, we never noticed just how busy our little pea brains actually are, constantly filled with thinking -- pictures, words, combining into very convincing narratives that screen us from direct experience.

When we try to stop this endless stream,  or try to make our minds blank, we are only giving our thoughts more energy with our aggression against them or our attempts at avoidance. They may appear to stop for a moment or two, but then they begin anew, with more strength.  Instead, we can allow thoughts to come and go on their own, either focusing on some neutral object, like the breath, or sitting in spacious awareness, without any kind of agenda for our thoughts.  Coming and going, coming and going, none of our business...and so, thoughts appear to decrease, and the mind "quiets."

The other day, I was explaining this to someone who was having a hard time emptying her mind of thoughts.  She thought it was what she really wanted.  Her delighted response to the instruction to let her thoughts come and go was, "this is much easier than what I've been trying to do!"

Most pictures of Jittoku, the Japanese name for the Tang Dynasty Zen monk Shide, a close friend of the poet Hanshan, show him with a broom, sweeping.  In the picture below, which is also the picture that accompanies this blog, he has let the broom drop, so that he can delight in the moon.  And so, we realize the basic instruction:  drop the broom!  

9 times fall down, 10 times get up

Little Buddha, Amsterdam

I gave a talk recently about two apparently contradictory teachings in Zen.  The first is that, even though we don't know it, we're already Buddhas.  That is, we're awakened ones -- the word "Buddha" coming from a root in Sanskrit that means "awake."  The second teaching is that we never have enough information to make fully informed choices about how to behave in ways that cause no harm, no matter how awake we are.  The information we need is way too big to comprehend with our limited neural equipment -- we're always missing something crucial.   So -- we're always screwing up.  And...(this is the part that's hard to comprehend)...this screwing up is Buddha activity.

As much as we'd like to make exceptions to this, because, really, we'd so much rather be kind, generous, loving and wise all the time -- not to mention calm and peaceful -- our major task as persons of the Way is to accept our human-ness...which includes greed, anger, ignorance and all the other emotions, thoughts and behaviors that we'd rather not feel, think or do.

How to cope with this paradox?

It's very simple, really, although not easy...we rely on the practice of vow and repentance.  We vow to do our best, and then, when we make our inevitable mistakes, we repent.  We recognize that we have done harm, and then we vow again to have as big a view as possible under the circumstances, so that maybe the next time....and on and on, endlessly, forever.

This practice is not something we can learn and complete...it's a lifetime's worth of, as we sometimes say, 9 times fall down, 10 times get up.  Or, an infinite number of times fall down, and an infinite number of times, plus one, get up.