As the head
of the meditation hall, I’m often asked, What
do the forms mean? And my answer is always the same: They
don’t mean anything. They’re just
a mirror.
Despite
rumors to the contrary, those arcane, exasperating forms aren’t designed to
make us look stupid or incompetent.
They are designed to make us deal directly and viscerally with not
knowing. Our culture hinges on
competence (or at least the appearance thereof). And it is imperative in Buddhist practice to examine our
habits around lookin’ good -- the
careful crafting of appearance, and the equally-careful management of others’
perceptions of our appearance, is otherwise known as suffering. It’s exhausting, it’s unsustainable, and
it’s the opposite of Right View (though unfortunately the word “right” can make
us think there is a correct appearance to strive for in meditation, as if
enlightenment hinged on good make-up).
Suzuki-roshi
observed that in the beginner’s mind there are many possibilities, but in the
expert’s mind there are few.
Expertise is an excellent boundary system. Being right leaves no room to connect. Our advice can simply be followed with
no need for discussion. To
paraphrase Lung-tan’s summation: “If your defenses are impervious, no one can
get in [to mess up your look-good].”
But there’s more to his quote:
“If your
defenses are impervious, no one can get in … and you can’t get out.”
So, the
forms of practice, endlessly byzantine, are actually nothing more (nor less)
than the keys to the jail. They
help us crash headlong into our habits, moment after moment, until at some
point we tire of the endless collision between our appearance and our true
nature, one fixed, the other open to myriad possibilities.
And at that point, we realize that we have a choice
of what looks back at us from the mirrors of practice, especially the mirrors
that are other people. As with
all mirrors, it is pointless to try to manage the reflection. Instead of putting on our best face, we
can reveal our original face, one that is willing to see and reflect everything
around it as a witness, a companion, a friend.
Or as the Buddha said, “I see who you are. You’re me.”
1 comment:
Dear Kyosho,
This is the very reason I separated from my beloved teacher who lives in Texas...I could easily craft an appearance I didn't feel was genuine.
My practice leader here at GGF is very good at seeing my attempts to do damage control with every gassho. Painful!
Deep bow to this wonderful explanation of forms. Miss you and your eggs and your brush work!
Bowing,
Kogen ( Formally your friend and fan, Austin!)
Post a Comment