Kapwing! Saving All Beings! Kapow!

In being Buddhists and particularly Zen ones, part of our modus operandi is about saving all those sentient beings. Or perhaps realising that they are inherently saved anyway. This is quite a weighty proposition for a person whose normal level of responsibility lies in buying in the pastries on Sunday mornings, and ensuring that he wears matching shoes. Well, pretty much. I have tried being an ironic Buddhist, that's to say one who is cool with the idea but doesn't feel the need to do anything about it. It is not an approach that works for me, as I have come to realise that I am a person who likes to be involved, which is quite a shock. The taking of the Bodhisattvas Vows is in some ways a dumb idea: what does it matter to the Universe if you make some sort of promise and get given a mini-robe thing? It doesn't, not one jot. On the other hand, intention is all. Sometimes doing a dumb thing is just what is needed. Sometimes we just have to allow ourselves to be fooled: not all the time, I'm not suggesting we should give up our intelligence, or our reasoning. On the other hand, it's too easy for us to keep our cool-hipster ironic stance on things, whereby we observe and hang back, and comment, but don' t throw ourselves in.Much of our culture is geared towards keeping us at a distance from life. Rituals, oaths, promises: these things confound the normal hands-off approach: "I'm going to do this thing even if I look silly, and turn out to be foolish in my aspirations." This is a leap towards openness. It's my turn to jump, silly rakusu robe and all, into this ridiculous world of vow where I pretend to be Superman, to master teachings and encounter Buddhas and save all beings, and join the ranks of those nonsensical folks from ages past and present who have done the same. Here I come!

The Perfect Zen Student?

"When things are running smoothly, the refrigerator is very much like some people's idea of the perfect Zen student. It is calm, cool, and quiet, and it possesses its own inner light."
- Gary Thorp, "Infinite Winter"
Read the entire article in the Tricycle Wisdom Collection

This above excerpt was emailed to me by Tricycle Magazine, of which I am quite the fan. But stuff like this quote I think really gets people in a total muddle. I spent a few years trying to be the perfect Zen student, and trying to be all those things listed above. I failed, and the reason? Because the above quote is perfect only in one way: it is the perfect caricature of a Zen practitioner. As Brad Warner might say, even whatisname on the front of Tricycle or any other similar mag isn't always cool, calm and illuminated. Many of us may spend very little time being any of these things. That doesn't make us any "worse" than those who fit the above model. To be fair, Mr Thorp does say it's only some people's idea of Zen, but it is quite a prevalent one in my experience...
 Zen is wide enough to include sorrow, rage, annoyance, boredom, pettiness, jealousy and the whole messy gamut of human experience. There's a koan (which I can't source right now) where a Zen teacher is found to be distraught at the death of a friend. "Why are you weeping?" his surprised students ask, "Are you not a Zen master?" "I'm sad, so I'm crying" came his response. Similarly, Natalie Goldberg is equally surprised when she criticises one of Katagiri's Dharma talks, and he displays disappointment. She figured, incorrectly, that he was somehow "above" that. But Zen is to reflect, and to be in the middle of all situations burning cleanly. If you are stuck in the idea of Zen being cool, calm and quiet, sooner or later someone will tweak your nose and you will say "OW!" and then where are your ideas?

The book from which this excerpt comes, Sweeping Zen by Gary Thorp, is pretty good. Just not the section that Tricycle posted to me.

The Silliest Spiritual Game in Town

On occasion, Zen practice can give you what appears to be a real kick in the teeth. There are times when the whole game of it drops away and not only do you know it to be pointless, you feel that it is pointless. Absolutely pointless. This leaves you feeling like you are in freefall: one moment you had the Zen game with the sitting and the robes and whatnot, and then you realise that this patch of corporeality that you are pleased to call your body will one day cease operations and you will be dead, and there's absolutely nothing to be done about it. I was grumbling to myself that I don't have a teacher, and that I'd never be able to sew a raksusu in order to take the Bodhisattva Vow and on it went, a real outpouring of sorrow for myself. Then a thought occurred: what difference would a teacher, even the most famous, fierce and accomplished Zen type you could think of, what difference would they make? I'd still sit on my cushion. I'd still have to sew that f***ing rakusu. I'd still, to put it bluntly, have to die my own death. Ha.

Of course, we still like to play the game: I like the Zen game. I like the ritual, I like pretending that I'm connected with something venerable and deep. I like taking myself off to zazen and spending my evening sitting for nothing. I could do other, similar things: I could do vipassana, Insight or Shambhala, one of those modern Buddhisms which seems keen on meditation or Buddhism being a journey or a purification or something. But they don't seem to have the silliness, and I like silliness of the gravest, ancient and most serious sort.

Tasteless Scandal Rocks Zen Center

A scandal yesterday erupted which will strike at the very heart of American Zen, as it was revealed that one high-profile Zen teacher had forced his students into tasteless acts. A special investigative committee, headed up by  John Korogi McGinnigey Roshi, was dispatched to the Riverpinestone Bay Zen Center. "When we went in, we were shocked by what we found. The first hint was a brightly-coloured zafu just laying there in full view. It had a polka-dot pattern on it. Further in, and we found that someone had put up chintz curtains and one of those magic-eye posters. Later I heard if you stared long enough at it, you'd see 3D unicorns. I'm trained, but nothing I'd seen previously had prepared me for this." As the team continued, further horrors came to light: "Instead of raked sand, a barbecue pit", a sobbing investigator relived his experiences, "everywhere, those solar-powered garden lights with dragonflies on them." The main zendo had become a monument, an altar one might say, to tastelessness: statues of cheerful, human-looking dogs in a variety of sports outfits, little miniature houses that light up from inside, and a host of other items best described as "knickknacks" were found therein. Incense holders were replaced by cloying "plug-ins".

One of the students of the renegade Zen teacher spoke out, "It'll take me some time, and a good deal of counselling, to get the scent of "Ocean Coast Stroll" out of my nose. It had started innocently enough, I suppose, when Roshi said one day "You know guys, I've had it up to here with all these artfully arranged Japanese interiors, what say we go a bit cosy for a while?"  Another student spoke out: "You know, it seemed to make sense at the time. Everything was too tasteful. I suddenly felt like I wanted to kick back, pull on some polyester sports trousers and watch television. Roshi had such...a charisma about him, he could convince you of anything."

The Riverpinestone Bay Zen Center before the tragedy

Other students said that they had a bad feeling when posters featuring "spiritual" quotes and stock-image photos had started appearing on the walls. The Zen teacher himself was tracked to his home in nearby Cedar Bay, and taken in by the authorities. His tasteful neighbours had no idea who they'd been living next to all this time: "We knew he was a Zen teacher, so we never doubted his tastefulness. I mean, he had a real skill for it: the things he did with a simple throw, cushion and single-flower vase could bring a tear to the eye. But I guess, you don't really know people as well as you think."

Asked if he had any comment, the shamed teacher offered this, sporting handcuffs and a T-shirt with airbrush-style pictures of Native Americans on it: "I was living a lie. Polished wood and plain walls really get me down .  And does everything have to be brown, black and grey? I mean what about the rest of the spectrum? I'm fifty-five years old, and I've had enough of living in what looks like an Uptown Manhattan sushi joint. And if I have to look at one more piece of calligraphy I think I might just...." He was led away before he could finish the comment. The teacher will face up to three years of Interior Design Therapy, and be subject to a court order imposing a tonal colour scheme on him for the next eighteen months.

Enlightened Beings Anonymous

"My name's Nick, I'm from Brighton. I'd like to share with you all the fact that... I experienced enlightenment six months ago, and I'm ready to step into my power now and deal with it"

"When it happened, I felt so...ashamed. The universe, and my self, had just opened up and I could see that, essentially, there was no problem. I just wanted that feeling to stop. Friends, with whom I now felt a profound connection upon every meeting, began to turn away. My family, bombarded with regular phone-calls and sane, open communication, grew suspicious and started to contact cult de-programming experts. Worst of all were my  Zen friends. "It shouldn't happen to a Soto man" one said, "It ain't natural". Another took me to one side, "Look, it's one thing to experience it, but quite another to talk about it." They asked me if, in the future, I could say "Voldemort" rather than using the E-word. In desperation I contacted the manufacturer of my zafu to see if they would give me my money back: "You did what on one of our products? Go to hell, enlightenment junkie!"

"There was nothing to do but start giving public talks, and pretty soon I was spreading my condition around town like a Dharmic streetwalking hussy. Everyone I met became infected with the same craziness, and there developed  a sangha of compassionate, wise and engaged individuals. I had hit rock-bottom."

"Just lately though, I've started to feel some normality returning: I swore at a homeless man yesterday, and I've rediscovered some of the hatred for my work colleagues that I used to feel. Then, last week, I literally spent all day angrily obsessing about the way my girlfriend does the washing up, and I realised: there is some light at the end of the tunnel.They say that once you've had a taste of awakening, you'll never be able to forget it, never be able to go back. Well, I hope to be living proof that you can return to ignorance, and that anyone, if they try hard enough, can add needless suffering to their lives. For now, I just take it day-by-day."

Being Nobody, Writing Stuff



I would love someday to write a shiny spiritual autobiography replete with fantastic deeds and humourous encounters ho ho ho! Of course, this means that I have to actually do said deeds and engender the aforementioned encounters. Damn. I don't even have an official, real teacher, and it seems that mostly the good stuff happens around teachers. The Japanese ones are definitely the funniest, and I'm sure not going to find one of those in a hurry. There are very droll people in our Zen group, but writing about them seems like an invasion of their privacy.They come to Zen to investigate the Great Matter of life and death; not in order that their lives be cherrypicked by some half-baked Brad Warner-be. Maybe I should ask permission. Otherwise it's just all going to be about 1) Me sitting facing a wall, and 2) What I reckon about Zen, both of which I am 3) Quite bored of writing about.

Being a writer who is concerned with hem hem "spiritual" stuff is difficult because you are expected to practice what you preach. I mean, I'm sure Eckhart Tolle occasionally swears at his cat (I don't know if he has one), and finishes the last biscuit in the packet, but it's hard to imagine it, isn't it?  Let me put you straight, though: I wouldn't want his fame. It's okay pontificating about  Zen on a blog which has a readership of about ten people. But imagine if millions suddenly relied on you for guidance and wisdom? Eek. No thanks. Somewhere amongst those millions is the guy/gal with the big gun, telescopic sight and crazy mind who is looking for guidance in backwards-played records, subliminal TV things and SPIRITUAL BOOKS. Maybe. I don't think I have any worries on that score. I definitely wouldn't want to go on Oprah.

Let's face it: I'm not going to get a deal with  Shambhala anytime soon, although I have liberally plastered their open-entry writing website with my ham-fisted literary handicrafts (there are five pieces altogether on this site: be the first amongst your friends to collect the set!). But at least no-one's going to be sniped dead with a high-powered rifle because of me. So that's a start, "Do no harm" right?



"It was me" says conical hat-wearing bibliophile



Become a Zen Master!

Are you without direction? Feeling the pinch in these austere times? Are you a bit spiritual? Then why not become a ZEN MASTER!?

In a serene, rural setting, our dedicated staff will train you in :

-Pithy sayings: never be at a loss for words again! plus bonus module "How to Speak with Silence"

- "The Story of Satori": constructing your spiritual autobiography. How was it for you? Sudden, gradual or a bit of both? Are you the happy go-lucky Master who lets it all hang out, or one of those real hard-arsed sorts who grunts and hits folk?

- Wabi Sabi: the Art of Being Happy with Absolutely F***-all

- Zen handicrafts, choose between: painting bamboo, painting with bamboo, painting at bamboo, making bamboo out of pottery, Fuzzy Felts Bamboo Forest Scene. NEW MODULE "Sewing incredibly complex black robe-things and loving it" available from Fall 2012.

-Haemorrhoids and How to Avoid!

We will help you to find your own distinctive style as a Zen master and to navigate these difficult modern times where most people couldn't care less about sitting for hours on a little cushion, and they're certainly not paying for it thank you very much.

Relax in a wide variety of accommodation styles:

The Boot Camp Temple Shack

"Are you an early riser? How about 3am? Is that early enough for you you baldheaded, spiritual wannabe puke stain?" This is the kind of welcome you can expect in our most popular and least fiscally damaging rooms. Sleep dorm-style on quaint tatami mats with no heating just like monks used to do! Gasp at the outdoor cold water wash facility! Laugh as you attempt to make one sheet of toilet paper last a month!

The Middle Class Retreat Cabins

Enjoy awkward early-morning exchanges and complicated dietary requirements in our Cabins. Featuring WIFI and a fully trained barista ready to sneer at your comical soy-latte-mocha combo. Later on participate in vague, well-meaning  discussions about science and politics with people who read about that stuff in the glossy weekend supplements. Oh, and there's a bit of meditation on buckwheat-filled zafus (gluten-free zafus must be pre-booked.)

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Ooh la la! Hot tubs and mirrored ceilings await, you Tantric tiger you! In these surroundings, "anything's a teaching" what even that? Yes! Replete with fully-stocked bar, and a variety of attractive people in loose spiritual robes, this is the swingingest accomodation we offer for the real guru in you. Indulge, imbibe and enjoy!

All in all, we don't think you will find a more spiritual experience this side of the Sixties, so call TOLL FREE and book your place right away: you're just a phone call away from enjoying a new life as  ZEN MASTER!