Mu: Wielding Manjushri's Sword

Chaozhou Ts'ung-shen was a Chinese Chan (or Zen) master and a Dharma successor of Nanchüan.

According to Case 19 of the Gateless Gate, as a young student, Chaozhou (or Joshu in Japanese) "asked his teacher, Nanchüan, ‘What is the Way,’ and Nanchüan replied, ‘Ordinary mind is Way.’ Chaozhou asked how he should move toward it. Nanchüan answered, 'If you try to move toward it, you go away from it.' Chaozhou said, 'But if we do not try, how do we know that it is the Way?' Nanchüan replied, ‘The Way does not belong to knowing or not-knowing: knowing is illusion, not-knowing is blank emptiness. If you really attain to the Way, it is like vast emptiness – limitless and boundless. How, then, can there be a right and wrong in the Way?' At these words, Chaozhou was enlightened.”

After forty years of training with Nanchüan, Chaozhou wandered throughout China and studied with other Zen masters for another twenty years, deepening his insight. At the age of eighty, he began teaching until his death when he was 120 years old (or so the story goes).

As a teacher, his dharma is both perfectly direct and deceptively simple. He instructed gently and quietly, but in very precise and profound ways. Twelve koans in the Blue Cliff Record and five in The Gateless Gate concern Chaozhou – by far the most often cited teacher, with good reason.

In case 7 of the Gateless Gate, “A new monk asked Chaozhou to teach him. Chaozhou asked, ‘Have you eaten your meal?’ The monk replied, ‘Yes, I have.’ Chaozhou said, ‘Then go wash your bowl.’”

Photo by Sandra Raponi

In case 37, “A monk asked Chaozhou, ‘What is the meaning of Bodhidharma's coming from the west?’ Chaozhou said, ‘The cypress tree in the courtyard.’"

And in Case 2 of the Blue Cliff Record, Chaozhou taught, “'The great way isn’t difficult if you don’t pick and choose. As soon as I speak, you’ll think, That’s picking and choosing, or That’s clear. But I don’t identify with clarity. Can you live like that?’ A student asked, ‘If you don’t identify with clarity, what do you live by?’ ‘I don’t know,’ Chaozhou answered. ‘If you don’t know, why do you say that you don’t identify with clarity?’ ‘It is enough to ask the question. Make your bow and step back.’"

Of course, the most famous koan involving Chaozhou is Case 1 from the Gateless Gate: “Chaozhou’s Dog.” 

Wumen Hukai, a Linji Zen master who lived in 13th century China, compiled the Gateless Gate koan collection and offered comments and verses on the cases. As a young monk, Wumen is said to struggled with Chaozhou’s dog for six years before he broke through. As the koan that opened the Way for him, he passed it along to us – our gateless barrier.

Please note the tenacity in both Chaozhou’s eighty years of study with teachers and in Wumen’s six years on one case. It reminds us of Bodhidharma staring at the wall for nine years when he came to China. These great teachers exerted great effort examining the gateless barrier over many years to realize freedom.

And that is at the heart of things, isn’t it. We aren’t just playing with riddles here. We are not dedicating ourselves to the Way to feel a bit less stress. If that were the goal, we can get massages. Most fundamentally, we have heard that Buddha was deeply enlightened and, together with all beings, he attained the Way. We have heard that he conquered suffering. We come to practice because we have heard that we too have Buddha nature, and we long to see this for ourselves. We long to be free.

We are not alone in this longing. Our Zen history is replete with stories of people of great determination seeking the Way. Many of these stories include nameless monks who bravely lay their hearts bare and make themselves vulnerable in asking questions of their teachers.

According to the first case of the Gateless Gate, “A monk asked Chaozhou, ‘Has the dog Buddha nature or not?’ Chaozhou answered, ‘Mu.’”

Mu means “has not,” “without,” or more simply, “no” – a shocking response to this monk who was perhaps seeking consolation in a moment of doubt.

We read in Living Vow's dedication that “Buddha nature pervades the whole universe” and Hakuin writes that “all beings by nature are Buddha.” Why would Chaozhou answer “no”? We all have the capacity to be enlightened to our true nature and to be liberated just like Buddha, do we not? Isn’t that why we are here?

I find it helpful to begin with koans by reflecting on where the people in the story may be coming from. It helps me understand what the case is about. So first, the monk asks, “Has the dog Buddha nature or not?” What is he really wondering?

Though we feel differently now, dogs then were generally considered filthy creatures. The monk therefore might be asking: “does even a filthy rat have Buddha nature?” But again, why ask such a question? There is likely something deeper that he wants to know. The monk might really be asking, “does even someone as unworthy as me have Buddha nature?” He might be thinking, “I am told that we all have this salvific Buddha nature, so what is it? Does it really include every being in the world? Does it include my shame and broken heart? Am I too of the essence of enlightenment, because I sure don’t feel like it.” 

Or maybe he is saying, “I have the nature of enlightenment, but I am special! Does a filthy being like that lazy monk across the courtyard actually share in this Buddha nature with me? How about the murderer in the prison yard? Can Buddha nature really include those that I detest?”

Either way, there is a painful sense of separateness.

In another context when asked the exact same question, Chaozhou answered, “yes.” But one teaching does not fit all circumstances. This is why we consider dokusan, meetings with the teacher, private. The teaching you receive in dokusan is meant for you in that precise moment alone.

Still, koans have an archetypal quality. On some basic level, we all have our inner monk asking similar questions.

So Chaozhou is meeting his student where he is. And this student’s question is likely based in some amount of self-centeredness. Okumora states (in Living Vow's liturgy), “No matter how hard we practice, our motivation for practice is always based in some amount of self-centeredness.” In a relative sense, this is true. We begin practicing because we want to suffer less. We want to feel better. We want enlightenment for ourselves. And maybe we question whether we are worthy. Or maybe we think we alone are worthy. Two sides of one coin.

So this monk may be caught in the relative truth of separate beings. And this monk is lost in ideas about Buddha nature and needs to wake up from this dream.

This “no” is Manjushri’s sword of wisdom cutting through delusions. Enlightenment is not as we think; nor is it otherwise.

Will the monk take up this sword and “cut off the mind road?” This does not mean stopping thinking but realizing the origin of thoughts. We call this practice “great doubt."

In his comment on Chaozhou’s dog, Wumen wrote:

“For the practice of Zen it is imperative that you pass through the barrier set up by the Ancestral Teachers. For subtle realization it is of the utmost importance that you cut off the mind road. If you do not pass the barrier of the ancestors, if you do not cut off the mind road, then you are a ghost clinging to bushes and grasses.

“What is the barrier of the ancestral Teachers? It is just this one word ‘Mu’ – the one barrier of our faith. We call it the Gateless Barrier of the Zen tradition. When you pass through this barrier, you will not only interview Chaozhou intimately, you will walk hand in hand with all the Ancestral Teachers in the successive generations of our lineage – the hair of your eyebrows entangled with theirs, seeing with the same eyes, hearing with the same ears. Won’t that be fulfilling? Is there anyone who would not want to pass this barrier?

“So, then, make your whole body a mass of doubt, and with your three hundred and sixty bones and joints and your eighty-four thousand hair follicles concentrate on this one word ‘Mu.’ Day and night, keep digging into it. Don’t consider it to be nothingness. Don’t think in terms of ‘has’ and ‘has not.’ It is like swallowing a red-hot iron ball. You try to vomit it out, but you can’t.

“Gradually you purify yourself, eliminating mistaken knowledge and attitudes you have held from the past. Inside and outside become one. You’re like a mute person who has had a dream; you know it for yourself alone.

“Suddenly Mu breaks open. The heavens are astonished, the earth is shaken. It is as though you have snatched the great sword of General Kuan. When you meet the Buddha, you kill the Buddha. When you meet Bodhidharma, you kill Bodhidharma. At the very cliff edge of birth-and-death, you find the Great Freedom. In the Six Worlds and the Four Modes of Birth, you enjoy a samadhi of frolic and play.

“How, then, should you work with it? Exhaust all you life energy on this one word ‘Mu.’ If you do not falter, then it’s done! A single spark lights your Dharma candle.”

And Wemen’s Verse:

“Dog, buddha nature–

the full presentation of the whole;

with a bit of 'has' or 'has not'

body is lost, life is lost.”

It is best to establish stable sitting before taking up mu. We begin by counting or following our breath to help establish concentration. Please do not try to rush through this practice. Indeed, this practice is enough for a lifetime. There is no other place we are trying to get. We are just deepening our realization of what we actually are.

Having developed concentration, in consultation with a Zen teacher, we might let go of the breath as an object of concentration and just sit still, be quiet, and pay attention to whatever arises. We call this practice shikantaza.

Unless a koan has been assigned to you in dokusan by your teacher, please continue with your practice. And please only practice koans with a Zen teacher who has completed a koan curriculum with an authorized koan teacher and who has received authorization to teach (transmission). But if mu calls to you, you may ask about it in dokusan with such a teacher. Working with koans is not inherently better than breath work or shikantaza. But for some, koans do have special power for the Way.

What might sitting with "Chaozhou's Dog" look like? We might sit for a few minutes coming into the body and breath before breathing out “mu.” Then we might drop our focus on the breath and just sit with that single word.

As Wumen says, “with your three hundred and sixty bones and joints and your eighty-four thousand hair follicles, concentrate on this one word ‘Mu.’ Day and night, keep digging into it…. Exhaust all your life energy on this one word ‘Mu.’”

You may notice that you want to understand mu. When we begin practicing, we imagine that “knowing” what Buddha nature is will enlighten us. We seek mu with our thoughts. We may need to exhaust ourselves. For some of us, this can take years. We are rather stubborn.

We might remember that when Chaozhou was asked, “what do you live by?” he simply answered, “I don’t know.” When Bodhidharma was asked who he was, he replied, “I don’t know.” And when Chaozhou himself asked his teacher how to practice the Way without knowing what the Way is, Nanchüan responded, “the Way does not belong to knowing or not-knowing.”

The way does not exclude knowing, but knowledge is not enough. Has a dog Buddha nature or not? If you think you know the answer, ask yourself again, do I really know what Buddha nature is? Do I know what I am?

We may answer, “I don’t know,” but in the dokusan room, this is not enough. Time and again we are expected to respond. We must actualize the Way, neither lost in knowing nor in not knowing. We have swallowed a red-hot iron ball.

You may want to give up. Sometimes feelings of unworthiness and frustration arise. But as Hakuin wrote in his Song of Zazen, "Bind grasses to build a hut, and don’t give up." Recall our ancestors staring at the gateless barrier year after year, and throw yourself back into the furnace of practice. Give yourself completely to mu, and, together with all beings, "at the very cliff edge of birth-and-death, you find the Great Freedom."

Priest and Teacher Training in Living Vow Zen

Most practitioners of Zen in the US are lay, but every so often, one feels a deep calling to become a Zen Buddhist priest. Becoming a priest is an expression of a deep commitment to serve the sangha, honor the bodhisattva precepts, and embody the buddhadharma in this world on fire.

Photo by Sandra Raponi

Living Vow Zen priests, as recognized clergy in Massachusetts, officiate ceremonies marking life's most significant transitions, visit sick sangha members in hospitals and their homes, and support sangha members in time of grief. Priests also perform liturgical rituals at services and sesshin. We attend climate demonstrations, correspond with prisoners, and advocate for peace and justice. And in daily life, priests do our best to avoid causing harm, practice good, and alleviate suffering in our communities. When we screw up (and we do), we atone and vow to do better. We vow to support all life -- our children, spouses, pets, colleagues, co-workers, friends, acquaintances, and all beings.

Living Vow Zen's priest lineage has its roots in the Japanese Soto tradition through Peggy Houn Jiyu-Kennett, Roshi, the first woman to be authorized to teach by the Soto school in Japan. Living Vow Zen's priest and teacher formation is inspired by Boundless Way Zen's, where I was ordained and received transmission (permission to teach).

There are two levels of ordination, unsui (clouds and water) and osho (senior). In Living Vow Zen, to be initially ordained, unsui candidates must have attended 100 days of sesshin and must demonstrate a number of competencies, including pastoral skills (as informed by the Zen tradition in the context of supporting sangha); an ability to perform Zen ceremonies and forms; an understanding of Soto Zen; a capacity to meet people as they are; self-awareness; leadership; public speaking; a priestly presence (hard to articulate but easy to recognize); and a means to support themselves with right livelihood. No koan training is required for one to ordain as an unsui priest as the role's emphases are service and embodying our Soto forms.

LiVZ's model where priests are generally expected to earn their own living allows for an admirable path that also honors the life of vow. We have no expectation that our sangha will support our priests financially. This means that we expect our priests to work in the world according to right livelihood in ways that contribute to the well-being of the larger society, perhaps as educators, social workers, carpenters, therapists, ministers, health care workers, researchers, and more. This model appears to be the most common way the dharma has transmitted to the West, encouraging lay folks to practice with priests rather than creating and supporting a separate monastic class.

Many of the priest competencies are gradually cultivated as sangha members play important roles in facilitating sangha practice, such as being an officer for sesshin (an intensive Zen retreat). For example, the tanto (the provisional practice leader for a sesshin) serves an important role for the sangha while developing the skills to serve potentially as a LiVZ practice leader one day. And practice leaders have their own support group facilitated by a Guiding Teacher(s). In this way, through practice, service, and mentoring, aspiring priests mature in the dharma. Before ordination, an ordination committee reviews the candidates performance and offers support and feedback. The final determination of preparedness is up to the ordaining teacher.

Ordination is conferred by a LiVZ senior priest through the authority of her or his own ordination and precepts transmission, in consultation with the ordination committee and the Living Vow Zen Guiding Teacher(s). After ordination, unsui are supervised by, and serve under the authority of, their ordaining teachers and therefore must remain in shoken relationship with their ordaining teachers or another LiVZ senior priest in order to continue to serve as priests.

Unsui ordination represents a public vow to practice intensively, to offer pastoral and liturgical services, and to support the well-being of the sangha and all beings. It reflects a commitment and stability of heart and practice. Ordination publicly affirms the significance and prominence of the role of the dharma in one’s life, in the same way that a marriage ceremony might be said to publicly affirm a commitment and relationship to one’s long-time partner; as James Ford says, "nothing changes, and everything changes."

It is entirely possible and even likely that most priests would choose to remain unsuis for their entire lives. Not all priests are called to teach. To be an unsui is a noble calling to serve the dharma, sangha, and community with one's deepest heartfelt commitment and no gaining idea. It is a pure and complete expression of the bodhisattva vow. Still, in Living Vow Zen (LiVZ), being a priest is not a necessary step along the way to becoming a fully authorized Zen teacher. For those Zen students -- either ordained or lay -- for whom teaching might be a good fit, we offer extended, supervised internships as practice leaders. Our training guidelines for practice leaders follow. Practice leader permissions are granted incrementally by one's shoken teacher and may be rescinded at any time.

After perhaps 5 years of practice with a Living Vow sangha, some sesshin experience, and usually after significant progress in the Gateless Barrier koan collection, a practitioner may be named a practice leader and facilitate a practice group in Living Vow Zen. Practice leaders are supervised by, and serve under the authority of, the LiVZ Guiding Teacher(s) and must remain in close relationship with a Living Vow Zen teacher in order to continue to serve as practice leaders.

Over time, a practice leader, whether ordained or not, might provisionally be granted permission to offer talks after about 150 sesshin days and generally after having made significant progress in the Blue Cliff Record koan collection. 

Next, a practice leader may be also granted permission to offer dokusan (private meetings with students) after about 200 sesshin days and typically having made significant progress in The Book of Equanimity koan collection. 

Each practice leader needs to be in a shoken relationship with a Living Vow Zen teacher and to meet regularly with their teacher to reflect on their experience and receive guidance. This extended internship is considered fundamental to teacher formation in Living Vow Zen. Under the supervision of their mentor, a practice leader cultivates essential skills related to teaching Zen forms of practice, offering dharma talks and dokusan, managing transference and countertransference, establishing appropriate boundaries, cultivating supportive group dynamics, and many other competencies that support sanghas and individual students of the Way.

After a practice leader has interned for 7-10 years (usually practicing in LiVZ for at least dozen or fifteen years) and been supervised in offering talks and dokusan, their teacher may consider offering the first stage of dharma transmission. For one to receive this first stage of transmission, due to the associated teaching responsibilities, generally one will have attended at least 300 sesshin days, demonstrated insight (substantially completing The Record of Transmitting the Light koan collection and through other appraisals by one's teacher), and shown commitment and skill in teaching. Dharma transmissions are granted by fully transmitted teachers through the authority of their own transmission in recognition of experience, insight, commitment, ethics, and teaching competencies.

For a priest, the first stage of transmission is called denkai and confers the title "osho," or "senior priest." For a lay teacher, this stage of transmission is called "dharma entrustment" and confers the title "dharma holder." An osho may receive shoken students, offer the precepts, and ordain unsui, though they may not offer dharma transmission to dharma heirs until they have received the second stage of transmission. (A dharma holder has the same authorities as an osho, minus ordaining priests.)

After a few more years, at least 350 sesshin days, and after having completed the entire koan curriculum, an osho or dharma holder might receive the second stage of transmission called denbo, or full transmission, if one's shoken teacher determines it fitting. This number is not determined in isolation; the American Zen Teachers Association, while not a credentialing body per se but a support group for Zen teachers, also has a working guideline that teacher formation requires about a year's worth of sesshin days, in addition to transmission from one's teacher. In a sense the most significant stage of transmission, denbo confers the title of "Sensei" and may offer transmission to dharma heirs and function as an entirely independent Zen teacher.

The third stage or "final transmission" is called inka shōmei and confers the title "Roshi," meaning "old teacher" or "master teacher." Inka shōmei, which means the "legitimate seal of clearly furnished proof," commemorates a Soto teacher who has given years of service and is also the traditional acknowledgment of mastery in the Rinzai tradition. My transmission in the Seon lineage traces its roots to Linji, the founder of both the Korean Seon and the Japanese Rinzai traditions. Inka shōmei for me therefore commemorated my lineage roots in both the Soto and Linji traditions. Most who receive final transmission have more than 400 days of sesshin experience. By the time I was given inka shōmei on May 28, 2022 by David Rynick, Roshi, I had attended 413 days of sesshin (plus about 80 "zazenkai," all-day practice periods) and had practiced weekly with sanghas and daily at home over nearly two decades. I had completed the koan curriculum years before with my teachers and been evaluated and supported by an ordination committee and mentored in teaching for nine years. Of course, practice is never finished, no matter one's title or role. I continue to attend sesshin and zazenkai and consult regularly with my co-teacher, Bob Waldinger, and with Zen teachers outside of Living Vow.

While titles, roles, and permissions in LiVZ as practice leaders and unsuis can be revoked by their teacher at any time, dharma transmissions and final ordination as an osho cannot be rescinded, though all spiritual leaders in Living Vow Zen serve at the pleasure of the Guiding Teacher(s). Of course, joining Living Vow does not nullify permissions, ordinations, or transmissions in other traditions, but to function as a spiritual leader in Living Vow Zen requires an appointment by a LiVZ guiding teacher and, in the case of Guiding Teachers, the Board of Trustees.

Some Soto Zen groups require a 90 day residential ango as a primary qualification for senior priesthood. Ango, a monastic practice period, is generally less intensive than sesshin but may include some sesshin training. While such an experience is wonderful for those who are able, in Living Vow, we do not hold this as a requirement. James Ford, Roshi, a former Soto Zen Buddhist Association board member, was central in developing Boundless Way Zen's ordination and teacher training programs through which I was trained and which serve as a model for LiVZ's training programs. James writes that some trainees are fortunate enough to have the formal cloistered experience ranging from several years to ninety day retreats. When possible, this is encouraged. However, an ango can be both overly burdensome and, ironically, insufficient training for senior priesthood on its own. Practitioners in the West experience the cloister more commonly by repeatedly attending sesshin, briefer but more intensive meditation retreats, over many years. Most sesshin days include nine or more hours of zazen, plus meal and work practice. Additionally, in LiVZ we offer extensive koan training (the Harada-Yasutani koan curriculum) to foster and integrate awakening as a "householder." Koans also allow for a more objective evaluation of spiritual growth. Based on this vision of training, in LiVZ we offer paths to senior priesthood and teaching that cultivate spiritual maturation while honoring other life responsibilities.

As should be clear, becoming a Zen priest and/or teacher takes patience, commitment, and humility. It's a long winding road, and we face many inner demons and outer obstacles. Still, befriending these demons, navigating obstacles, developing compassion for ourselves and all beings, and sharing dharma practice with our sangha -- is there anything more meaningful? I'd walk every step of this road over and over again for eternity were that an option. But since we are not even guaranteed our next breath, I'll pour all that love into just this.

Zen: Actualizing the Noble Eightfold Path

The ancient Chinese Zen master Lin Chi once told a monk, "If you meet the Buddha on the road, kill him." Though easily misinterpreted, such startling statements are intended to wake us up. Still, as iconoclastic as many Zen teachers may appear, Zen practices actually have their roots in Buddha's original teachings.

Buddhism is comprised of many different lists — the two truths, the three refuges, the four noble truths, the five aggregates, the six paramitas, the seven factors of awakening, the noble eightfold path, and so on. It’s helpful to know that each teaching in Buddhism contains all the other teachings because ultimately, they all have their source in meditation, and they all point toward the salvific quality of reality, just as it is. 

Still, there are a few Buddhist teachings that are foundational. The four noble truths explain that life includes suffering, suffering has causes, suffering ends, and there is an eightfold path of practice to alleviate suffering. The noble eightfold path is the heart of Buddha’s teachings.

Today, I’d like to explore how the eightfold path is deeply woven into the Zen tradition, even if it is not always explicitly named. The key guidances of the eightfold path manifest in Living Vow Zen's sutras, vows, and practices. To practice Zen is to embody and actualize the noble eightfold path.

The elements of the eightfold path are: right speech, right action, right livelihood, right effort, right mindfulness, right concentration, right thought, and right understanding (or insight). The eightfold path includes three aspects of Buddhist training: ethical conduct, meditation, and wisdom (Walpola Sri Rahula). These three aspects are interwoven: ethical conduct is inspired by the wisdom that we are deeply interconnected, which we clearly see for ourselves in meditation. 

Yet we can also explore each aspect of the eightfold path separately. There are 3 ethical commitments in the eightfold path: right speech, right action, and right livelihood. In the Zen tradition, we find our ethical guidelines most explicitly stated in our bodhisattva precepts, and four of our sixteen vows specifically address right speech because it is so important. In those four precepts, we state:

I vow to take up the Way of Not Speaking Falsely.

I vow to take up the Way of Not Finding Fault with Others.
I vow to take up the Way of Not Elevating Myself at the Expense of Others.
I vow to take up the Way of Not Defaming the Three Treasures.

Right action is another ethical commitment in the eightfold path that "aims to promote moral, honorable, and peaceful conduct, encouraging us to abstain from destroying life, from stealing, from dishonest dealings, from illegitimate sexual intercourse, and encouraging us to help others to lead ethical and peaceful lives" (Walpola Sri Rahula).  Though in Living Vow we avoid using the term "illegitimate" regarding sexual intercourse, Zen's bodhisattva precepts offer corresponding guidelines for ethical behavior:

I vow to take up the Way of Not killing.

I vow to take up the Way of Not Stealing.
I vow to take up the Way of Not Misusing Sex.
I vow to take up the Way of Not Intoxicating Mind and Body.
I vow to take up the Way of Not Sparing the Dharma Assets (meaning, in part, that we vow to be of benefit by sharing the dharma, as appropriate, with those who are suffering).

Right livelihood, the third ethical commitment of the eightfold path, means that "we should abstain from making our living through any profession that brings harm to others, such as trading in arms and lethal weapons, intoxicating drinks or poisons, killing animals, or cheating, and we should earn our living in a profession which is honorable, blameless, and innocent of harm to others" (Walpola Sri Rahula). In our Zen tradition, as mentioned above, we vow in our precepts to avoid killing and intoxicants, and a deep reading of these precepts suggests that we should do all we can to promote life and avoid any activity that leads to the taking of life, such as selling arms or intoxicants. In our precepts, we also vow to cease from evil and to practice good, including in our professions.

The second aspect of the eightfold path is meditation, in which three other guidances are offered: right effort, right mindfulness, and right concentration.

Traditionally, right effort is “the energetic will to prevent evil and unwholesome states of mind from arising, and to get rid of such evil and unwholesome states that have already arisen, and also to produce, to cause to arise, good, and wholesome states of mind not yet arisen, and to develop and bring to perfection the good and wholesome states of mind already present” (Walpola Sri Rahula). In Living Vow Zen, we remind ourselves of this guidance during every sutra service when we recite our Gatha of Atonement, in which we state, “All evil karma ever created by me since of old, on account of my beginningless greed, anger, and ignorance born of my body, mouth, and thought, I vow to atone for it all.” This chant, followed by meditation in our services, helps to illuminate these painful states of mind — the "three poisons" of greed, anger, and ignorance. In my tradition, we do not try to prevent such states from ever arising. Such a practice can lack compassion, be repressive, and lead to spiritual bypasses of appropriate feelings. However, in meditation, we consciously decide not to fuel or act on these painful states when they arise. Instead, we sit still and bear witness to their arising and their dissolution, revealing that we need not be enslaved by such mind states. 

Additionally, in our bodhisattva precepts, we say, “I vow to take up the Way of Not Harboring Ill Will.” We notice ill will arise in us, then we let it go rather than investing in it. By no longer adding fuel to the flames of division and by allowing the three poisons to arise and dissolve rather than acting impulsively on them, we open beyond these painful states to our inherent interconnection with all beings, resulting in a deepening sense of compassion and care. Having paused to realign with our vows, we can often take more skillful and less harmful action to address injustices and alleviate suffering. Of course, being human, sometimes we make mistakes. One thousand mistakes, ten thousand mistakes. So we also practice atoning and renewing our vows. This is how we actualize our compassionate true nature.

Which leads us to the second guidance in meditation, right mindfulness, which is to be diligently aware of the body, sensations, feelings, the mind, and all things. In other words, we practice awareness of life, just as it is. In this practice, we see that all things come and go, even senses of self. Everything dissolves into what is. In the deepest sense, this and all of the practices of the 8-fold path reveal that there is no destination for practice other than where we are.

The third and last guidance of meditation within the eightfold path is right concentration. In Zen practice, to cultivate concentration, we begin with counting the breath. We may find that feelings and thoughts naturally settle during this practice, but we do not explicitly aim to silence our minds, for doing so is buying into yet another idea that simply leads us away from realizing the true nature of what is present. It can also foster a belief in a fixed self that needs to be eradicated when there is no fixed self to begin with. So we do not aim to be anything and instead notice the ever-changing constellation of processes that we used to identify as an unchanging self. As concentration naturally develops, we might open our awareness to noticing the sensations of the body, ideas that come and go, shapeshifting feelings, and the dance of life around us. We call this expansive practice “shikantaza,” where we simply notice whatever is present. This practice cultivates a profound equanimity that does not depend on the content of our hearts, minds, or experience. This is liberation in the deepest sense.

The remaining two guidances of the eightfold path, namely right thought and right understanding, constitute the aspect of wisdom. Right thought suggests thoughts of love and compassion, which extend to all beings. In the Zen tradition, we cultivate this sense of care in our bodhisattva precepts when we “vow to save all beings.” We remind ourselves of this vow every time we recite our four bodhisattva vows at the end of every service. We also dedicate our practice during sutra services to those who suffer. This is how we practice in the realm of relative truth.

Finally, right understanding, the last guidance of the eightfold path, is the profound realization of the exact equality of emptiness and form, ending all suffering and distress (Heart Sutra). This understanding is the highest wisdom which sees the ultimate reality. According to Buddhism there are two sorts of understanding. What we generally call understanding is knowledge, an accumulated memory, an intellectual grasping of a subject according to certain given data, or “knowing accordingly” (Walpola Sri Rahula). I refer to this as the “relative truth.” It is important but not profound, and when we attach to particular ideas and mind-states, we project selfhood into things and lose the deeper insight of emptiness. Deep understanding is opening beyond names and labels (without excluding them). It is intimacy with beings exactly as they are. In meditation practice, we learn to relate with all ideas and compass points as provisional (meaning, they too are empty of intrinsic essence), and we practice opening beyond ideas to realize whatever is in a more intimate way. Trungpa calls this intimacy “compassion-compassion." Beyond self and other, this inherent intimacy with all beings is the deep source of compassion for all beings, without exception.

As you can see, though we do not necessarily cite the eightfold path very often in Zen, it is deeply woven into our liturgy, vows, practices, and teachings. I’ve only scratched the surface of the many ways the eightfold path manifests in Living Vow Zen. To practice Zen is to walk Buddha's noble eightfold path, and to walk the eightfold path is to vigorously abide in the destination we seek right here, right now.

Announcing Living Vow Zen

I am happy to announce a new Zen collective called Living Vow Zen, a group of Zen practice groups (sanghas) with lineage roots in Japanese Soto, the Harada-Yasutani koan curriculum, and Korean Seon. 

We are comprised of three practice groups: Shining Window Sangha, Henry David Thoreau Sangha ("Hank"), and Morning Star Zen Sangha. Bob Waldinger and I are the founding teachers.

Why Living Vow Zen?

According to mythology, in a previous life, the one who would become Buddha reflected that, were he to practice diligently, he could free himself from Samsara in that very lifetime. But rather than practice for his liberation alone, he decided that it would be better to delay his liberation to train for many lifetimes so that he could guide others across the river of suffering to the farther shore.

In his final incarnation, Shakyamuni Buddha was born into nobility and great wealth, but he again renounced that place of comfort when he saw that others in the world were suffering. Once more he vowed to attain enlightenment so that he might conquer suffering not only for himself but for all beings.

Upon awakening, Buddha was true to his vow. He returned to his sangha that he might share with them his teachings. Because of his generosity, Buddha’s awakening reverberates to this day, and it is in the spirit of his living vow that we practice not only for our own awakening but to alleviate suffering in the world. Those of us in Living Vow Zen aim to embody the Mahayana Way by cultivating compassion and wisdom for the sake of all beings. 

All who come and practice even a few times with Morning Star, Shining Window, or Hank may consider themselves part of our sangha, and everyone's participation is valued and appreciated. Everyone is welcome in our inclusive Zen community.