Als je zazen-medidatie nuttig noemt
klopt er iets niet helemaal.
Zazen is niets bijzonders.
Je hoeft er niet eens dankbaar voor te zijn.
Wil je een boeddha worden?
Dat is zonde van de moeite.
Nu is gewoon nu.
Jij bent gewoon jij.
Als je een boeddha wilt worden
door zazen te beoefenen
is dat alsof je in een trein naar huis zit
en zoveel haast hebt om thuis te komen
dat je al binnen in de trein
begint te rennen.
… things are conceived just as they are perceived. They are not even named. If I look at a cup, I give it a Chinese name while you English call it ‘cup’. … Actually, for all of us, the subject of these concepts simply sits here in total clarity on the table. We know what it is; we know its name. In Silent Illumination naming is of no concern.
To see things in this way in meditation is very valuable. Sitting together here we can discriminate men from women, Chinese from British, maybe even Welsh from English, older from younger. Such discriminations normally come along with some sort of judgement or valuation. Labels, names and so on are the roots of prejudice.
Categorisation usually generates inequalities in values with preferences and aversions, however subtle, drifting across the mind. Whenever such inequalities have taken hold, buddha-nature becomes invisible. When truly realised, buddha-nature is indivisible.
Of course, this is no simple matter and, furthermore, to consider a thief to be one’s father might engender a lot of trouble in the everyday world. Nonetheless, in the perspective of Silent Illumination, the basis of mind is seen to lack duality; dualistic functioning is a secondary, not a fundamental condition. We need to contemplate the practical significance of this.
‘Without any signs whatsoever, it illumines without any grasping, yet it still goes on knowing.’ The practitioner in Silent Illumination is not concerned with meaning and therefore grasps at nothing. He may see a bird fly through tbe sky. He does not deny that the bird has flown from one tree to another, yet this is not a focus of his concern. ‘As the Tibetans say, this is like ‘writing on water’. You move your finger across the water yet nothing remains. The thing has happened; now it has passed by. In silence, the practitioner knows buddha-nature, but there is no trace of this in his mind, no grasping, no discarding. There is brightness, silence, illumination. Rising from the cushion, he drinks a cup of tea, nothing remarkable; he just gets on with whatever needs to be done.
Now, this buddha nature that we talk about is not something mysterious or arcane. Buddha just means “awake,” “one who is awake.
“The Buddha’s view of home leaving is summarized in these words: ‘Household life is crowded and dusty; life gone forth is wide open. It is not easy, while living in a home, to lead the holy life.’ … We need to regard the Buddha’s first teaching about ‘life gone forth’ carefully; we need to be careful about cutting off both human feelings and relationships. Practicing nonattachment is not the same as practicing detachment. The former practice addresses the human selfishness we bring to all of our relationships and is guided by the relinquishing of self-clinging to reactions that arise. The latter is repressive and disconnected and seeks to keep our delusional selfcenteredness intact by avoiding intimate relational contact and feelings.
Furthermore, the description of family life as ‘crowded and dusty’ might encourage some to think that holiness is found elsewhere than that dustiness. Somewhere, other than right where we are, there is an ideal practice life that is dustless. Somewhere there exists a life pure and elevated from the dust of human family relations. Imagining this to be true is a serious mistake, and sadly not an uncommon one. While each of us needs to find quiet time to reflect on our true nature, it is important to see buddha-nature reflected even in our most annoying family members, relatives, and associates. If we cannot do this, our practice develops a puritanical, precious, detached, and heartless quality.” – Grace Schireson
wie is het die luistert?
luister naar die luisteraar
“Tōzan said*: … ‘there are three kinds of lingering delusions. They are the lingering delusions of opinion, emotion, and speech.
With lingering delusions of opinion, one can’t separate himself from the domain of the thinking mind and hence falls into the poisonous ocean.
With lingering delusions of emotion, one always looks at things from the standpoint of the intellect, becoming narrow-minded and biased.
With lingering delusions of speech, one loses sight of the wonderful teaching of the true nature of things and becomes blinded to its true activity. Please consider these three lingering delusions carefully.’
One who has not yet exhausted these lingering delusions will be stained by the two aspects — existence and emptiness — and will not find freedom anywhere.”
Bassui Tokushō (1327–1387)