slow vs. sudden

hui-neng tearing up the sutras 

one of the more intriguing schisms in religion, specifically buddhism, and more specifically ch'an buddhism is its split into the so-called northern and southern schools that happened in 7th century china. incidentally, the first syllable of ch'an is sounded like a 'j' i.e. jaan which traces its root to sanskrit dhyana and becomes the japanese zen.. interestingly chi in tai'chi is also pronounced the same way (like jee as opposed to chi as in cheese which is written in pinyin representation as qi as in qi-gong).

the teachings of the sixth patriarch hui-neng came to be associated with the so called southern school. hui-neng's story is itself an amazing one. born into a poor family, he is supposed to have attained an awakening while listening to someone recite the diamond sutra. he then sought a zenmaster to clarify his experience who happened to be the fifth patriarch hongren who promptly asked him to do chores like pounding rice. months later, when the fifth patriarch was ready to pass on his robe, he wanted a stanza written that would demonstrate the clear mind and understanding of the writer and the inheritor of the dharma seal and patriarchate. shen-xiu, the head monk was the obvious choice and wrote his stanza on the wall-

    The body is a Bodhi tree,
    the mind a standing mirror bright.
    At all times polish it diligently,
    and let no dust alight. 

huineng, who was illiterate, heard it and finding it lacking in understanding, asked someone to write for him on the wall

    Bodhi is no tree,
    nor is the mind a standing mirror bright.
    Since all is originally empty,
    where does the dust alight? 

the rest is history and the split is usually traced to hui-neng's successor accusing shen-xiu and his disciples of lacking in understanding, calling them the northern school. a lot of scholars dismiss the story as apocryphal but it cannot be denied that the branching happened somewhere down the line.

what got me thinking about it this morning was the idea of spontaneity in haiku. haiku can be defined, albeit a bit self-referentially, as a verse describing a zen moment, the paradox arising from the impossibility of defining the zen moment. of course, one could say zen moment is itself tautological. writing haiku (or even "lowku" as i sometimes call bad haiku), however, requires considerable skill especially in the original japanese with its tight syllabic constraints, cutting words and seasonal allusions. so how could it be spontaneous? it seems very analogous to the "sudden" enlightenment described throughout zen literature- of men and women getting enlightened while performing quotidian tasks- the tock of a stone while raking, or water falling from the bottom of a bamboo pail or watching foam in a waterfall. it seems that they have all had some preparation and the event was just a catalyst. otherwise it would mean chemical reactions taking place with just a catalyst and without the relevant combining molecules. a more mundane example is solving cryptic crosswords, where after a lot of experience, one can simply write down the answer for some clues, seemingly without any processing even though it has obviously been processed. zen is often portrayed as anti-intellectual and reading is forbidden in retreats but it seems that there is a place for words and reading and sutras and tearing up of the sutras by a lot of zen masters is contradictory and confusing, only at first but is actually not so.

precipitation

one of the definitions of precipitation is falling headlong which is the original sense of the word ultimately tracing its roots to precipice and finally to latin caput (head). i guess the falling aspect of it gave rise to the meterological sense of the word. the first time i encountered this word form was in the chemistry lab where precipitates of various hues were created in test-tubes. in (south) india, we talk about rain and forms of precipitation are limited to rain and the occasional hailstone which i had only heard about but never seen. the joys of experiencing a midwest winter is exposure to the myriad forms of precipitation and its subsequent alchemical transmutation into beautiful crystalline forms. hiking in the woods, we across this form we had never seen before- curly wisps of snow-ice pastry sheets, a frozen white muslin, clinging to bottoms of plants. wonder if there is a name for it. and by the way, here is what wiki has to say about the thousand words for snow among the "eskimos".



and then this lovely, albeit ephemeral, sculpture that can give svarowski a complex.

red

during my random peregrinations on the web, i came across this interesting site- spiritual cowgirl- the blog of sera beak- spiritual voyageur, mystic and writer. she is obsessed with the colour red and had some amazing quotes. i gleefully quote her quoting lalitha Devi, a tantric teacher from India.

“In Tantrism, there is fundamentally only one color: red. The color of the living heart, the color of blood, the color of fire, the color of roses and the tongue, the color of the open vulva, the color of the erect penis, the color of the sun that warms the hermits, the color of the circle of fire that must be crossed to attain consciousness.” (Tantric Quest, p. 45)

Here is sera's definition-

“To me, red is the intuitive pulse that beats between reason and blind faith. It’s the color of blood when given some air. It activates a passionate, feminized mysticism. It reminds me of a compassionate heart, transformative fire, mystical embodiment, boundless love, self-empowerment, Mary Magdalene’s hair, Kali’s tongue, my favorite purse, and belly laughs” (The Red Book, p. 90)

interesting right?. i started from doug mcgill's the journalist and the buddha blog and landed up in tantric conception of red. this is sort of like a visual version of something i used to love doing with a dictionary. start by looking up a word and follow random chains of words. of course my trail today was not as random as the trail is as follows-

i get an email from doug about tonight's sit. doug's signature leads me to his blog. in his blogroll is the link to ajahn punnadhammo's blog. this bhikku has written an interesting rejoinder to mark moford's provocative piece 'does your religion dance'. mark's outburst is on the ossification of religion and about how even a progressive religion like buddhism (this is his take not mine) is conservative about a lot of issues. in his article is a link to sera beak (whose blog i perused instead of filling out my yearly accomplishments which is due end of the year). you get the idea.

endnote: i have been fascinated by the colour red itself and the various english words for shades of red- carmine, blood, ruby, garnet, scarlet, crimson, vermilion, cardinal, maroon, coral and finally from the bard incarnadine.

today was a foggy, misty day except this is minnesota not seattle which means two things- the temperature is in the twenties and water changes into its beautiful crystalline form. all the trees had a lovely dusting of crystals on it and looked beautiful despite the wan sky and the accumulated snow piles that have started looking ugly and brown and eagerly anticipating the next storm.

i have been walking past these crabapple? trees every morning wondering when i would photograph them and today seemed opportune. i had enough time to take about ten pictures before my hands and feet started complaining.

souper

winter is a good time for earthy soups with root vegetable stock. the bag of parsnips in the fridge gathering moisture inside was begging to be used and so was the solitary sweet potato sitting in the basket outside. we had some fresh baguettes and a bottle of red wine to go with it.

peel the potato(es), sweet potato(es) and parsnip(s) and cut into inch cubes. i used just one medium sized sample of each. boil them till they become nice and soft and then let it cool. retain the water for use later.

in a little olive oil, fry finely chopped garlic, ginger and sliced chillies. just an inch of the orange coloured hungarian wax pepper was enough to provoke lachrymation. red pepper flakes could be substituted or left out altogether. then add sliced onions and fry till translucent. add some dried oregano and basil leaves and saute till it starts smelling divine. then add the water saved from the boiling and simmer for a little bit and let it cool.

in a blender, puree the boiled tubers and then add the fried onion-garlic-ginger and blend them. return it to the stove and simmer on low flame after adding water and diluting it to required consistency. salt and sugar as necessary and garnish with cilantro.

the wax peppers turned out to be extremely potent but lent a wonderful fruity warmth reminiscent of habaneros even though they are advertised as mild. it also seemed to complement the wine's fruity notes rather well. this was a sauvignon-shiraz blend from australia that turned out pretty decent, considering it was a cheap 6$ bottle.

white sun of the desert

russian literature and cinema can be depressing. a few wintry minesottan days will tell you why. and of course pg wodehouse and woody allen have joked about it often.

white sun of the desert is a genre bending 1969 movie from the USSR at the height of the cold war that combines humour, adventure, and gunfights with a few drops of good old soviet ideology and apparently made following an order that came from the top bosses and the "movie committee" to make a western that will outdo the americans. it is most appropriately an "eastern", USSR's reply to sergio leone, as one of the script writer yezhov says in an interview. shot in the desert region of turkmenstan, it chronicles the adventures of comrade sukhov, a character right out of the mir-publisher folk tales we read growing up in indira's india. comrade sukhov, dressed in his dirty army jacket, is returning back to his village through a desert landscape after fighting for the red army in far flung corners of the soviet empire, his thoughts dwelling on his rather matronly sweetheart katerina matveyevna when his attention is drawn to a head looming in the sand. it turns out to be a peasant who has been punished by a local bandit. he frees him and is on his way when greatness is thrust upon him in the form of protecting the harem of a local warrior adbudllah to safety. abullah himself is fleeing the red army and has abandoned the harem as they hinder his movement. as yezhov recounts, this is the crux of the movie around which other threads are woven and is apparently based on a real incident recounted to him by one of the red army commanders in a bar. the movie is about sukhov's often hilarious attempts to protect the harem who now considers him to be their husband and master (despite his day dreaming about katerina, who is depicted in a red skirt and pastoral backdrop) and ends in an inevitable climactic gun battle with comrade sukhov firing a few seconds earlier than his adversary. he is helped by the peasant he rescues earlier and a hilarious, inebriated former customs inspector vereschagin who also sings the theme song your excellency lady luck. there are wonderful red oneliners like 'the east is a delicate matter', 'customs has given approval' but not much of ideology per se which is one of the reasons why it had trouble getting the thumbs-up from the party bosses, according to yezhov again who says they approved it as it had cost quite a packet of rubles to make.

this cult film is traditionally watched by cosmonauts prior to space launches. it is easy to see why and was a different experience than watching tarkovsky or sokurov.

changes

yesterday, i managed to add an image to the blog header after some tips from this helpful blog. long overdue, feels more complete now.

we have had lots of snow and since the driveways near my house are not shoveled properly, it requires care walking, especially as parts of it have iced after melting slightly during a couple of sunny, warm 25F days !!. my walk to and from work is resembling kinhin (walking meditation) more and more- step after careful step. it doesn't look like it is going to melt in awhile. meanwhile, the nest on the gingko tree is still hanging on and a had a beautiful snowcap yesterday. of course, it melted today because i wanted to photograph it. oh and the icicles outside the kitchen window are gone too.



because of the all the snow on the ground, it feels strange looking out of the window and finding things pretty luminous at 2 am (when i typically get up for a drink of water). i wonder what it will look like on a full moon day assuming it is clear. looking forward to this 24th for that.

oryoki

oryoki refers to the nested bowls used for serving food in zen temples. loosely translated as "just enough", it is of sino-japanese origin much like soto zen itself. in the rest of this post, it will also refer to the act of eating [using oryoki bowls]. for a layperson, oryoki is the "food" equivalent of the tea ceremony or chado. in most formal zen retreats, food is served oryoki style, comprising of 4-5 bowls and the form varies slightly with the lineage. the largest bowl is called the buddha bowl and care is taken not to touch it with one's lips. all the bowls are nested and along with the utensils (chopsticks, a spoon and a spatula), a napkin and a drying cloth and enclosed inside a longer piece of cloth that is knotted and opened just prior to meals.

the whole purpose of this beautiful but seemingly complex and anxiety inducing form (at least to novices) is to extend the state of mind during zazen to eating. dogen in fact makes no distinction between sitting in zazen, eating food or other quotidian acts. it was deeply touching to be participating in a tradition which is traceable to 13th c japan in eiheiji, dogen's temple if not to the much more ancient chinese zen temples from where dogen imbibed the tradition. i had eaten oryoki style once before during a retreat with the kwanum school (korean) but had forgotten most of the forms but there was an orientation on friday night.

the actual form is quite complex and more info including all the verses that are chanted can be found here. in brief, the principal actors are the tenzo (cook), the soku (server coordinator) and 2 servers. the servers do all the serving with cues given by the soku using gestures or the occasional clapper. whilst the rest of the people are still in zazen on the cushion, low tables are first laid out, one for each pair and a washcloth is passed around, with which the tables are wiped, each person covering the space in front of her. then gomasio (salted, spiced sesame seasoning) is served, again one for each pair. after reading some verses, the knot is untied and the bowls are opened and spread out on the tablecloth which itself is folded into a rhombus with a triangular piece sticking out of each side like a beak fold in origami. there are forms for how to open the napkin, what direction the chopsticks and spoons point before and after the meals etc. food consists of three items, one for each bowl (the fourth bowl which looks almost like a small plate serves as a stand for the third). the servers bring each dish to everyone and serve kneeling; hand signals are used to communicate amounts, raising means stop. once all three bowls are filled in three separate rounds, the utensils are laid on the bowls and everyone starts eating after a set of beautiful verses-

First, we consider in detail the merit of this food and remember how it came to us;
Second, we evaluate our own virtue and practice, lacking or complete, as we receive this offering;
Third, we are careful about greed, hatred and ignorance, to guard our minds and to free ourselves from error;
Fourth, we take this good medicine to save our bodies from emaciation;
Fifth, we accept this food to achieve the Way of the Buddha.

during lunch everyone is required to leave a small bit (a grain of rice typically) for the hungry ghosts which is collected by the servers. midway, the servers again walk around with each item and people can get second servings by expressing their indication using a bow. once everyone has finished eating, the spoon and chopsticks are licked clean and the bowls using the spatula. hot water is poured into the buddha bowl. the bowls are then cleaned and the utensils and the water with some residual food can be drunk or poured into a waste container circulated although in practice it can all be drunk as it tastes like ambrosia, according to one of the verses. the bowls are then dried using the drying cloth, nested, placed inside the kerchief, knotted and stored away. of course, there is a whole lot of bowing which i am skipping both by the servers and those eating. the buddha at the altar is also served a symbolic meal replete with the three bowls and mini chopsticks !!

one of the more beautiful lines of all the verses extols and stresses the unity of giver, receiver and gift, something i was able to experience by serving one of the meals as well as during meals where there are no servers and everyone serves their neighbour on one side and is served in turn by the other. it is certainly an beautiful thing to experience and reevaluate how we do things in our samsaric lives.

rohatsu sesshin

buddhist and especially zen practitioners world over commemorate the traditional enlightenment of the buddha on dec 8th (eighth day of the twelfth month to be precise in a lunar calendar) by sitting in intensive retreats (sesshins). went to the minneapolis zen center across from lake calhoun and sat from 30th through 2nd and then returned on the last day. this was a tough retreat both on the body and the mind but there were number of things to make it luminous and numinous- the formal oryoki meals (more on this later), watching lake calhoun across the road in various stages of freezing, watching it snow all day, the wonderful macrobiotic food and just being there and steeping in the silence generated by the retreatants, a paradoxical notion perhaps. also had a wonderful opportunity to practise qi gong during the evenings, exactly what the body needed after long sessions of forty minute sits. leaving it in the middle after 3.5 days was a simultaneous feeling of a sadness and joy. did try and minimize talk and emails (yes, to twice a day) during the three "regular work" days and tried to sit a couple of hours of zazen. it was good practice and an interesting opportunity to glimpse into the nirvana-samsara duality. tough.




lake calhoun recalled that mysterious ocean solaris- its various moods and its influence on the consciousness of the retreatants who were watching it as they sipped tea during breaks. on friday, it was frozen about 15 feet from the shore. it snowed all day saturday but the water melted all falling snow as it accumulated on the ice. late sunday, the entire lake froze.



one of the retreat leaders had encouraged me to attend the sesshin by remarking that there was something special about the rohatsu sesshin and likened the zendo to a warm container, surrounded by cold and snowy silence. it was indeed a unique experience. of course, each sesshin is different and despite sitting and staring for long hours at the same stucco wall or wood paneling, it changes the mind subtly. the practice is indeed subtle and works slowly- like water on rocks, chipping away one atom at a time, one thought at a time, one moment at a time.