“Those who are content to be nothing special are noble people. Don’t strive. Be ordinary. Buddhism has no room for special effort. Eat and drink, then move your bowels and pass water, and when you’re tired go to sleep. Fools will find these words ridiculous, but the wise will understand. If you love the sacred and despise the ordinary, you are still bobbing in a sea of delusion.” – LInji (Japanese Rinzai)
In digesting the above quote from Master Linji the realization that striving in any fashion implies a seeking mind. While meditating, even with a noble intention of attaining enlightenment is alas still a mistake. All striving has to be thrown away. When thoughts appear and are then pursued, a dichotomy is formed, and this dichotomy creates unending obstacles. Remember, we do not sit to quiet our minds. Our minds are already quiet. The succession of words and images that appear during sitting meditation are of our own creation. A creation fueled by a separate sense of self and an identity that is molded through our ego filter. Delusions arise from trying to sort out and compartmentalize our life experiences, education, ethnicity, relationships, career, etc. Our mind babble is non stop leading to a life of anxiety and confusion. When asked what is zen, Bodhidharma replied, “Mind to mind transmission, outside the scriptures, not dependent on words and speech.”
Following and attaching to our thinking from one moment to the next creates delusions that even a thousand scriptures cannot adequately satisfy. When we truly experience Linji’s words, Bodhidharma’s words and my own teacher Zen Master Seung Sahn’s simple edict, “Zen is keeping don’t know mind,” then each moment is authentic and not in need of embellishment. One by one, each thing is complete. One by one, each thing has it. Without cultivation, you are already complete.
A profound revelation occurs at some point in our practice that our body and this life are also nothing more (or less) than a temporary phenomena. This can be truly liberating. Don’t allow this revelation to scare you. It will bring you to a place where you will feel as if a great weight has been lifted, and not an indulgence in some nihilistic fear.
This reminds me of a story that I would like to share with you in closing:
During the beginning of the last century an invading army intent on occupying and annexing a valuable parcel of land (some things never change) arrived on horseback at a small mountain village. The platoon dismounted to give their horses a break from the journey. The town occupants aware of the approach of the soldiers and fearing for their lives ran off to hide in the woods. There was a small Buddhist Temple in the town square. Knowing that there might be artifacts inside to steal and place in their saddle bags, a few of the men ventured inside the temple.
Outside, the Lieutenant in charge of the platoon smoked a cigarette gazing at the mountain view of the valley below. Suddenly a commotion inside the temple drew his attention. He immediately went inside and found his men tormenting the very old Abbot of the temple who unlike the townspeople, including his monks had retreated to the woods. He simply sat silently and unmoving in front of the Buddha statue. The soldiers were poking the old monk, pushing and kicking him, in an attempt to elicit a fearful response.
The Lieutenant seeing this display ordered the men to leave saying that “he would take care of this old man personally.”
The Lieutenant drew his sword and pressed it against the Abbot’s neck and loudly proclaimed, “Don’t you know who I am? I could sever your head in an instant and not even blink an eye.” The old Abbot who was deep in samadhi finally drew his eyes upward and looking straight into the eyes of the Lieutenant replied, “And don’t you know who I am?
I could sit here and watch as you sever my head and not blink an eye.” The Lieutenant, was visibly shaken and startled by the old Abbot’s serene composure. He sheathed his sword, made an about face, left the temple, ordered his men to mount their horses, and left the village. The story was documented by one of the young monks, who feeling both concern and guilt having left his Master vulnerable to the troops, hid outside a temple window and was witness to the entire incident.
Ji Haeng Zen Master – The Desert Dragon