Fukanzazengi: The "Perfect" Way

By: Bob Zeglovitch

Returning again to the first line of the Fukanzazengi, Dogen describes the Way as “perfect and all- pervading.”  How does “perfect” land for you?  There is something about “perfect” that might seem off somehow.  Things often seem less than perfect in our world, both outer and inner.  But of course, the point of this sentence is not that the universe is always arranged just to our liking!  In Maezumi Roshi’s commentary on this sentence, he points out that the Japanese word that means “perfectly pervasive” can also mean “unhindered functioning.”    This has a slightly different feel to it.  Elsewhere, he says the word “perfect” is not quite adequate and suggests adding the word “complete,” as in: “Nothing is lacking; nothing is in excess.  No two things are identical.  Each of us is distinctly different, perfect, and complete.” (Quotes are from On Zen Practice: Body, Breath and Mind, Taizan Maezumi and Bernie Glassman)

I appreciate how Maezumi includes each of us, with all of our flaws and quirks, in the perfect and complete Way.  My take on this phrase is that it expresses how in each moment, the things of the world and our being and experience in the world cannot be other than they are, having been brought about by the karma of innumerable causes and conditions—and that the underlying reality far beyond our understanding is complete.  Of course we can take actions designed to bring about certain different future results, including in the very short term.  But this phrase, for me, reminds me that I am enmeshed in the complexities and mystery of the Tao, that it is good to have humility and perspective about my actions, and that the wise course is often to let things unfold without interference.     

Fukanzazengi: The Way

By: Bob Zeglovitch

Yesterday we examined the first paragraph of the Fukanzazengi, paying particular attention to the term “Way.” The first line of the Fukanzazengi reads: “The Way is basically perfect and all-pervading.” Way is an English translation of Tao. Thus, we can immediately begin to see the connection between Taoism and the Zen tradition that Dogen brought to Japan.

Tao originally meant “way” as in “pathway” or “roadway.” It still has this meaning, and one, somewhat limited but practical understanding of way is the Buddhist path that we are walking along. But, it seems apparent from the first sentence of Fukanzazengi that “way” must be more than this. The Chinese translator/poet David Hinton tells us that Lao Tzu and Chuang Tzu, the great Taoist writers, redefined it as a generative cosmological process, an ontological pathWay by which things come into existence, evolve through their lives, and then go out of existence, only to be transformed and reemerge in a new form. In China, practitioners of Ch’an were often called “those who follow Tao”, or more literally, “those who flow along with Tao.” This brings together “pathway”, or practice, and the ultimate reality that is beyond intellectual understanding that Hinton points to as the deeper meaning of the term.

Kaz Tanahashi says, “Tao is a secret of the universe, the ultimate reality, which cannot be expressed, spoken about, understood intellectually; it has to be experienced through practice…”. This non-intellectual experiencing of the Way through practice, of flowing along with the Way, is the essence of the “just sitting” practice expressed in the Fukanzazengi.

Here is a great quote from Maezumi Roshi, providing yet another vantage point on “Way”:

What is the Way?  In technical terms it’s anuttara samyak sambodhi, unsurpassable supreme enlightenment.  This Sanskrit phrase can also be translated as the “Supreme Way”, the “very best Way”, the “unsurpassable Way,” or as “Perfect Wisdom,” which is what enlightenment actually is.  Enlightenment is synonymous with the Way.  The Supreme Way, complete realization, is perfect in itself, by itself.

What is wisdom? What is anuttara samyak sambodhi?  It is our life itself.  We not only have that wisdom, we are constantly using it.  When it’s cold, we put on more clothing.  When it’s hot we take some clothes off.  When hungry, we eat.  When sad, we cry.  Being happy, we laugh.  That’s perfect wisdom.

And this perfect wisdom doesn’t only pertain to humans, but to anyone and everything.  Birds chirp, dogs run, mountains are high, valley’s are low.  It’s all perfect wisdom!  The season’s change, the stars shine in the heavens, its perfect wisdom.  Regardless of whether we realize it or not, we are always in the midst of the Way.  More strictly speaking, we are nothing but the Way itself

This points us toward a central point of Fukanzazengi—that practice and enlightenment are not separate.

Aspects of Just Sitting: Wholehearted Practice

By Bob Zeglovitch

The spirit of practicing wholeheartedly is central to "just sitting" meditation. This spirit also applies to our entire life.  In the words of Dogen, "It is not a matter of being smart or dull, well-learned or foolish, but that when one practices wholeheartedly to find the Way, that is nothing but the accomplishment of the Way."  I find these words to be encouraging.  You don't have to measure up to a standard of perfection or to have an idea of accomplishing something in your meditation. Return, again and again, and do your best to fully engage with your practice.  Maezumi Roshi, the founder of the Los Angeles Zen Center, commented that practicing wholeheartedly means, "to become one with whatever you do."  How do you do this in your meditation?  Throw your whole self--body, mind, heart and soul--into the practice of just sitting.  Do this without reservation and as an expression of your life, just as it is.  Sit with urgency but without expectations.  Dogen captures this sense in the Fukanzazengi: "You have gained the pivotal opportunity of human form. Do not waste your time in vain. You are maintaining the essential workings of the Buddha way."

There will be times when you feel depleted or distracted and cannot give one hundred percent of yourself to the practice.  In a talk I listened to recently by Norman Fischer on Dogen's Bendowa (Talk on Wholehearted Practice of the Way), he said that on those occasions where you can only give a quarter of a half of your heart, then that is okay--you should do that wholeheartedly, while being aware that you are aiming for full wholeheartedness even if you cannot martial it.  This is further encouragement.  Do the maximum that your circumstances permit.  Then do your best to avoid judging yourself when you feel that your meditation is somehow “not good enough.”

Note: This post includes links to the referenced talk and texts.