Exploring the 'Zazen', the gate of living Zen

Exploring the 'Zazen', the gate of living Zen

By Rahayu Ratnaningsih

JAKARTA (JP): Of all Buddhist traditions, I find Zen and
Tantric (Tibetan) most appealing. The two are so full of
contrast; Zen with its "complex simplicity" and minimalist
approach; Tantric with its rich, colorful, quixotic, imaginative
and ritualistic tradition.

The two are a living manifestation of life, of yin and yang,
of the harmonious paradoxes that abound in life and the
nondualistic nature of reality. They are an excellent
demonstration of the ancient wisdom that people can take
different paths to the same destination.

Zen is perhaps the most elusive and "irritating" subject a
person may want to try to talk about. It is so esoteric that it
defies the word "religion" in a traditional sense to describe it.

Zen aims to totally demolish the bind of dogma, doctrines and
the adulation of rational thoughts; to free the human mind from
the extreme limitation of words and explanations. It calls itself
"a way of living".

Like Buddhism in general, it is a religion without faith,
since belief is irrelevant to the achievement of thorough
understanding of the ultimate nature of reality. One cannot talk
or reason about it, since words cannot adequately explain an
experience that lies beyond the realms of the senses and of the
intellect from which our words and concepts are derived. A well
known Zen phrase says, "The instant you speak about a thing you
miss the mark."

Thus, Zen lies beyond reasoning. The same way a physicist
cannot talk accurately and unambiguously about subatomic
(nonsensory) phenomena without bumping into a paradox every now
and then. One can only experience Zen. It is a completely
experiential and empirical philosophy.

The Eastern sages, in general, are therefore not interested in
explaining things, but rather in obtaining a direct
nonintellectual experience of the unity of all things. A Zen
master warns, "Don't be confused by abstractions or by the word
of definition of an object or person.

This is like confusing one's finger with the moon." Each
language has a word for moon, but the word is not the real moon.
The word is like a finger; it only points in the direction of the
real moon. You should not mistake the one for the other. Thus,
Zen is the return to the basic simplicity of an undyed fabric; no
eye-catching adornment, no polish. It implies freedom from
thought pollution.

Hence, it is not so uncommon to hear a Zen master's (or a Zen
student's for that matter) nonsensical answer to a question.

When a monk asks Tozan, a Zen master, who was weighing some
flax, "What is Buddha?" Tozan said, "This flax weighs three
pounds." Or, when someone asked to be taught Zen, a Zen master
would perhaps answer, "I have nothing to teach, I have no
doctrine." Zen is like swimming; you don't learn swimming by
reading about it in a book or sitting in the class listening to a
lecture on the subject. You learn to swim by doing it, in the
water.

I myself find all this "nonsensical madness" brilliantly
riveting. In the Western world and our secular world in general,
a good teacher is regarded as someone who makes the subject
matter digestible for the student, a person who explains things
succinctly and cleverly. In the Oriental world, a good teacher is
a person who makes you find out something for yourself.

William Blake once said, "A fool who persists in his folly
will become wise." Alan Watts accurately contended that this
method of teaching used by these great Eastern teachers is to
make fools persist in their folly, but very rigorously, very
consistently, and very hard.

Hence, instead of perceiving it as an excuse for false,
irrational or illogical thoughts cloaked in philosophical
gobbledygook, I find Zen intellectually satisfying and
challenging, which is of course a contradiction in terms since
Zen itself seeks intuitive wisdom rather than conventional
intellectualism. In all its frustrating minimalism, it is much
smarter than any philosophy that pretends to have all the fixed,
definite answers to all life's mysteries.

The more one's intellect is developed, the more one will find
these instant and simplistic answers implausible. Buddhism is
extremely rational and well known for its highly intellectual and
sophisticated philosophy, however the intellect is seen merely as
a means to clear the way for the direct mystical experience.
Hence, I do not suggest an edition of "Zen Made Easy" because
that would not be the real Zen.

How do we, then, experience or learn Zen? We learn Zen in
zazen, Zen meditation. It is the essential, fundamental practice
for ripening the brain's intuitive faculties. However, it is
wrong to think that Zen is religion for Sundays only or the Zen
experience is obtained only when you are sitting (doing zazen).

Zen values the simple, concrete, living facts of everyday
personal experience. It places special emphasis on one's
practicing of moment-to-moment awareness in daily life throughout
every day of the week. The serious Zen aspirant embarks on a
continuous, lifelong journey in the direction of becoming a fully
developed humane being.

For a beginner, the Soto school of Zen that emphasizes
"effortless effort" in meditation (as opposed to the one
meditating on a koan or a riddle), could serve the purpose. The
great Soto master Dogen said this about zazen centuries ago, "A
quiet room is recommended for the practice of zazen, and food and
drink are taken only in moderation. Free yourself from all
attachments ... think neither of good nor evil, judge not right
or wrong. Stop the operation of mind, of will, and of
consciousness; bring to an end all desires, all concepts and
judgments."

To sit in zazen, take a thick pillow and on top of it place a
second one. One may choose either a full- or half-cross-legged
position. In the full (lotus) position, one places the right foot
on the left thigh and the left foot on the right thigh. In the
half (lotus) position, only the left foot is placed upon the
right thigh. A robe and belt should be worn loosely, but in
order. Next, the right hand rests on the left foot, while the
back of the left hand rests in the palm of the right.

The two thumbs are placed end to end. The body must be
maintained upright without inclining to either side or forward
and backward. The ears and shoulders, nose and navel must be
aligned. The tongue is kept against the palate, lips and teeth
are firmly closed while the eyes are always opened. After the
position of the body is in order, regulate your breathing. If a
thought arises, take note of it and then dismiss it. When you
forget all attachments consistently, you will naturally become
zazen itself. That is the art of zazen.

Large Japanese corporations have been known to send their top
executives to rigorous zazen training in which they have to sit
for hours staring blankly at the wall before them.

Zen meditation is believed to increase the alertness and
mental agility of these top decision-makers who usually live and
work under constant pressure.

For Westerners who are just beginning to take on zazen,
sitting cross-legged for more than five minutes is usually an
agonizing experience since culturally western legs are not
trained to sit on the floor or squat. Unlike Easterners who
traditionally squat on the toilet (or even, in Indonesia's case,
by the side of the road, socializing with their peers) and sit on
the floor in their temples or mosques, Westerners prefer seated
comfort both on the loo and in church.

To this "physical torture", a Japanese physician, Dr. Yoshi
Osumi, smiles and comments, "Zazen is good for the central
nervous system, but bad for the peripheral nervous system."

The writer is the director of the Satori Foundation, a center
for the study and development of human excellence through mind
programming and meditation techniques.