A Newborn Baby

“A newborn baby...is it born with all six consciousnesses.”

My first art teacher said, “A work of art is finished when none of the original idea remains.” I think it is the same when working with a koan. Initially I was thinking of a new born baby, not realizing that was me, being reborn over and over again. And then I was hit over the head with “no consciousnesses” in the Heart Sutra. Finally I remembered a line in “Hsin Hsin Ming”: “Don't get tangled in the world, don't lose yourself in emptiness...”

No Beard

“Why has the Western Barbarian no beard?”

How am I when the other is wrong? Yesterday someone was driving the wrong way on a one-way street. How might I have responded? Was I “pulled by karma or led by vow”?

Hanging from a Branch

Kyogen said, “It’s like a man up a tree, hanging from a branch with his mouth; his hands cannot grasp a bough, his feet won’t reach one. Under the tree there is a man who asks him the meaning of Bodhidharma’s coming from the West. If he does not answer he will lose his life. What should he do?”

How hard it is to accept one's condition—or the condition of the world. It is much easier to blame others or to come up with a clever solution. As I sit, I realize that “this is it!”

In a Dream 2

“How do you answer if you are asked, what is the meaning of Bodhidharma coming from the west, by someone in a dream? If you cannot answer it the teachings of the Buddha are worthless.”

Every week I'd complain to my dad about some injustice or irregularity in my life. He would always divert the conversation to something more interesting.

In a Dream 1

“How do you answer if you are asked, what is the meaning of Bodhidharma coming from the west, by someone in a dream? If you cannot answer it the teachings of the Buddha are worthless.”

Norman Fischer's Lojong slogan, “See everything as a dream,” might have helped me to lighten up a little. Every week I'd complain to my dad about some injustice in my life. He would always divert the conversation to something more interesting. When I drift off, it is always uncomfortable to be asked, “Where are you right now?” And then there is the boundless “now” that began before my parents were born and maybe never ends.

How simple am I willing to let it be?

I'm just dreaming!!!

Moving Mountains

“A man asked Ummon, ‘How do Buddhas appear?’ Ummon answered, ‘The eastern mountain moves along the stream.’”

Mountains are mountains—or are they—or aren't they?

It was only recently that I realized that motion, not stillness, is the default.

Aimlessness

“Absorbed in the flight of birds, he sees mindlessly.”

I see two brands of concentration: hard and soft. Seeing this way is definitely soft. And maybe so soft it becomes hard.

Murmuring Waters

“Through the flowing murmuring waters he walks leisurely.”

It amazes me that the water doesn't get tired—like my grandfather-in-law who could pull weeds all day long. Or like sitting when I'm not waiting for the bell.

The Leaf Falls

“Empty handed—the wind blows. Yet holding a rake—the leaf falls.”

We think we are ready. Ha! Every moment a surprise!

Incense Powder

“Bring me the incense powder made out of shunyata (boundlessness)."

I'm learning that simple acts can be done with such reverence. Even smiling at a person or shaking their hand. When done this way, the earth seems to stop moving for a moment and we can hear the bell permeating everywhere, even before and after.

Beginningless 4: The beginningless self-nature has been awakened.

“Seikenko of Cho composed a gatha as he was enlightened upon hearing thunder strike.
Sitting in the room in absolute silence.
Mind-source unmoved, filled like still water.
The striking of thunder has opened the gate of the head’s crown.
The beginningless self-nature has been awakened.
Present the implication or content of each line.”

Knock, knock, who's there? Maybe this awakening is just like unexposed film—lots of potential and ready for action.

Beginningless 3: The striking of thunder has opened the gate of the head's crown.

“Seikenko of Cho composed a gatha as he was enlightened upon hearing thunder strike.
Sitting in the room in absolute silence.
Mind-source unmoved, filled like still water.
The striking of thunder has opened the gate of the head’s crown.
The beginningless self-nature has been awakened.
Present the implication or content of each line.”

I like the expression “you hit it on the head.” And not only the crown, but the proturberance on the top of the head representing the status of being a Buddha. And yet, this is only an entrance, a door.

Beginningless 2: Mind-source unmoved, filled like still water.

“Seikenko of Cho composed a gatha as he was enlightened upon hearing thunder strike.
Sitting in the room in absolute silence.
Mind-source unmoved, filled like still water.
The striking of thunder has opened the gate of the head’s crown.
The beginningless self-nature has been awakened.
Present the implication or content of each line.”

It is so easy to be still when not much is happening—not even being anticipatory. We mistakenly hope that life will be like this, mistakenly because that is an invitation for disappointment.

Beginningless 1: Sitting in the room in absolute silence.

“Seikenko of Cho composed a gatha as he was enlightened upon hearing thunder strike.
Sitting in the room in absolute silence.
Mind-source unmoved, filled like still water.
The striking of thunder has opened the gate of the head’s crown.
The beginningless self-nature has been awakened.
Present the implication or content of each line.”

Absolute silence seems like a contradiction in terms. I look at the figure we (my cosmic assistant and I) drew and I look like I'm being electrocuted. I seemed to be hearing lots.

He asked how the study of the koans affected my sitting. Maybe here I could see myself so agitated—barely "sitting."

Art Class: Change, Repetition, and Variety

My first art teacher, Robert Erickson, would tell us that a work of art is finished when none of the original idea remains. This started as a test for writing words directly with my digital tablet. Then it morphed to these eight figures.

My second art teacher, for basic design, spoke of repetition and variety. Too much of one leads to boredom, and the other to chaos.

Five-Storied Pagoda 3

“Take out a five-storied pagoda from a teapot.”

Is it enough to just do a job? What state of mind is required? Dogen wrote, “...he must handle them as carefully as if they were his own eyes.” I can simply put the pagoda in the teapot—plunk!, or I can do it with the realization that this is my own eyes that I'm holding in my hands.

Five-Storied Pagoda 2

“Take out a five-storied pagoda from a teapot.”

I don't think you eat the strawberry as a last resort. Rather it is just about “being here now.“ Still, my mind was on the tigers. I couldn't enjoy the strawberry worrying about death. Odd how we might know what we might do or think... but that doesn't help.

Five-Storied Pagoda 1

“Take out a five-storied pagoda from a teapot.”

Jesus said, “With God all things are possible,” when speaking of entering the kingdom of heaven. The zen teacher Norman Fischer is a great champion of imagination. Yet I was stuck with this simple act. Again, I was trying so hard to “figure it out.”

A Stone Grave 2

“How do you get out of a stone grave which is locked from the outside?”

We speak of nirvana and samsara as both being part of life, and each being a necessary ingredient for enlightenment. What do I do when I'm in an intolerable situation? My difficulty was that I wasn't being honest.

A Stone Grave 1

“How do you get out of a stone grave which is locked on the outside?”

At first it seemed like a situation I would probably never encounter—and then realizing now, in retrospect, it is my life, being in this body and world that I have so little power over. Though I can think of death as inevitable... I could flip that and consider life—really tasting life—as a possibility.