Imagery of Craving

By: Bhikkhu Analayo

According to the early Buddhist analysis of existence, craving, or tanhā, is the very root cause of the samsāric predicament, being the central factor responsible for the arising of dukkha, as highlighted in the second noble truth. Due to its pivotal role as the chief cause of bondage, tanhā features in numerous passages and contexts in the early discourses…

The term “tanhā” literally stands for “thirst”…Tanhā - as a figurative type of thirst that demands the satisfaction of desires - manifests as a sense of lack or want, and has its root in dissatisfaction. Various aspects of craving are reflected in the use of a range of imageries and similes in the discourses.

One such image speaks of being enmeshed by craving, of being caught in the net of craving. … The net imagery recurs in relation to craving in general in a verse in the Theragāthā (Verses of the Elders), which compares the condition of one who has destroyed the net of craving … to the stainless moon on a clear night. The Dhammapada also employs this imagery, when it contrasts the net-like nature of craving to the freedom attained by the Buddha who, in contrast to such forms of entrapment, has a limitless range.

The aspect of craving as a form of bondage, …which underlies the net imagery, recurs in other similes. Overcome by craving, beings run around in circles comparable to a rabbit caught in a snare. Covered by craving’s cloak, they are in bondage like a fish in a trap.

…Another set of images revolves around the theme of growth in nature. These images alert us to the danger of allowing craving to follow its natural course, thereby becoming forever stronger. This aspect can be seen in a Dhammapada verse that compares the fertility of the underlying tendency to craving to a tree that grows again after being cut down. Similarly, as long as its roots are left intact, craving will grow again. Hence craving together with its root need to be removed.

From Excursions into the Thought-World of the Pāli Discourses

Contemplation as Practice

By: Andy Karr

Most of us approach Buddhism with a certain respect for meditation, and an appreciation for studying the teachings. On the other hand, the importance of contemplation might be less obvious. It is an essential activity, yet one that is often overlooked.

Contemplation reveals our own intelligence to us, often in surprising ways. Profound teachings can clarify themselves simply through the process of repeated examination. What at first is unclear becomes clear. Details that we’ve overlooked jump out at us. You might think that you can’t understand something, but by contemplating it you find that you can understand. With contemplation, you can understand the implications of the material, not just what is actually said.

We have all experienced reading or hearing teachings, understanding something for a moment, and then discovering later that it’s gone. Sometimes parts of the teaching are not clear and we skip over them. Profound teachings don’t really penetrate until you make them part of your personal experience—take them in, chew on them, reflect on them, ask yourself, “Is this true?” “Do I experience it this way?” “What is the point of this teaching?”

Thinking about the teachings in this way may seem to contradict the emphasis on “nonconceptuality” found in many Buddhist instructions, but there is no contradiction. We need to use thought to get beyond thought. Real nonconceptuality arises from recognizing the true nature of conceptuality, not through blocking thoughts or getting rid of them.

From Contemplating Reality: A Practitioner’s Guide to the View in Indo-Tibetan Practice. Andy Karr is a senior teacher in the Tibetan tradition. He was a student of Chögyam Trungpa Rinpoche and Khenpo Tsültrim Gyamtso Rinpoche. Karr is skilled in taking complex Buddhist philosophical teachings and rendering them in very clear English.

A Drifting Boat

By: Sōhan Gempō (also known as Shōun)

Upon Reading Sengai’s Waka Collection, Drifting Boat

In this world

a drifting boat

in any bay or inlet

when entrusted to the breeze

can cross over to the other side.

Note: Shōun (1848-1922) was a Zen priest and Abbott of the major temple in Kyoto called Daitoku-ji. He references here the work of the earlier Zen Master Sengai Gibon (1750-1837). The term “cross over” is a reference to enlightenment. This quote is taken from The Art of Twentieth-Century Zen: Paintings and Calligraphy by Japanese Masters, by Audrey Yoshiko Seo, with Stephen Addiss.

The Anchor Symbol

From: Penguin Symbols Dictionary

A solid body, its weight holding the ship fast, the anchor was taken to symbolize firmness, solidity, tranquillity and faithfulness. it holds firm and steady amid the flux of the elements and comes to symbolize the stable part of our being, the quality which enables us to keep a clear mind amid the confusion of sensation and emotion.

As the seaman’s last resort in a storm, the anchor was frequently connected with hope, which stands as a support in the troubles of life.

The anchor also symbolizes the war between the liquid and the solid, the land and the sea. It puts a brake upon life when it becomes too stormy.

Face Everything, Let Go and Attain Stability

By Hongzhi Zengjue (translated by Taigen Dan Leighton)

Vast and far-reaching without boundary, secluded and pure, manifesting light, this spirit is without obstruction. Its brightness does not shine out but can be called empty and inherently radiant. Its brightness, inherently purifying, transcends causal conditions beyond subject and object. Subtle but preserved, illumined and vast, also it cannot be spoken of as being or nonbeing, or discussed with images or calculations. Right in here the central pivot turns, the gateway opens. You accord and respond without laboring and accomplish without hindrance. Everywhere turn around freely, not following conditions, not falling into classifications. Facing everything, let go and attain stability. Stay with that just as that. Stay with this just as this. That and this are mixed together with no discrimination as to their places. So it is said that the earth lifts up the mountain without knowing the mountain’s stark steepness. A rock contains jade without knowing the jade’s flawlessness. This is how truly to leave home, how home-leaving must be enacted.

Note: From Cultivating the Empty Field: The Silent Illumination of Zen Master Hongzhi, by Taigen Dan Leighton. In his footnote to this passage, Leighton comments as follows: “Home-leaver” is a traditional designation for Buddhist monks, referred back to when the historical Buddha, Shakyamuni, left his palace in ancient India to seek and achieve perfected enlightenment. The term also applies to Chinese Zen monks who left their society’s rigid family system to enter the monastery or wander from teacher to teacher. On a deeper spiritual level, home-leaving refers to the practitioner’s letting go of attachments derived from personal habitual, psychological, and emotional conditioning.

The Clarity of an Autumn Pool

By: Hongzhi Zengjue (translated by Master Sheng-Yen)

Your body should sit silently; your mind should be quiescent and unmoving; and your mouth, so still that moss grows around it and grasses sprout from your tongue. Do this without cease, cleansing the mind until it gains the clarity of an autumn pool and is as bright as the moon illuminating the autumn sky.

From: Hoofprint of the Ox: Principles of the Chan Buddhist Path as Taught by a Modern Chinese Master, by Master Sheng-Yen and Dan Stephenson, and quoted in Rebecca' Li’s Illumination.

Open Your Grasping Hands

By: Hongzhi Zengjue (translated by Guo Gu)

Just take a backward step and open your grasping hands. Thoroughly resolve this matter. Only then will you be able to put forth light and respond to the world appropriately, merging with the myriad objects in a manner that is just right for all occasions. It is said, “The truth of all dharmas is not hidden; from ancient times to the present, it is always revealing itself.”

Genuine Practice

By: Hongzhi Zengjue (translated by Guo Gu)

Genuine practice is to simply sit in stillness and investigate this silence. In its profound depth, there is the realization where, externally, you can no longer be swayed by causes and conditions. Mind being empty, it is all-embracing; its luminosity being wondrous, it is precisely apt and impartial. Internally, there are no thoughts of grasping after things. Vast, solitary—the mind is [orginally] free from dullness. Being alive and potent, you are able to sever all opposition and remain content. Being content has nothing to do with emotions. You must be open and spacious, relying on nothing whatsoever. Splendid and marvelous, [your mind] is full of life and spirit.

Note: This passage is taken from Hongzhi’s Practice Instructions, which are a series of beautiful and evocative pointers to the realization of Silent Illumination, or Buddha-nature. The translation is from Guo Gu’s book Silent Illumination: A Chan Buddhist Path to Natural Awakening. This is just a portion of this particular practice instruction.

The Priceless Pearl

By: Rebecca Li

In the Tathagatagarbha Sutra there is a story of a boy whose parents sewed a priceless pearl inside his coat. Yet, the boy forgot all about it and as he grew older looked for wealth everywhere. Finding none, he could barely survive. All the while he was in possession of a priceless pearl that he could use to benefit all beings. The pearl in the story refers to our buddha-nature—our natural capacity for wisdom and compassion. It is our capacity to see clearly and act with an appropriate response according to conditions, to see the interconnectedness of all beings, and to love them unconditionally as we see clearly that loving others is no different from loving ourselves. In other words, we each have an innate capacity for wisdom and compassion. We are already fully endowed with this capacity; we are each in possession of this priceless pearl. However, our untrained mind is often too confused and agitated to see this fact and instead we keep looking outward, grasping for what we already possess.

From Illumination.

On Relaxation and Dealing With Pain

By: Chan Master Sheng Yen

When trying to relax, most people either become too lax, leading them to sink into dullness, or try too hard, resulting in a tense or scattered mind.  Relaxing does not mean that the body becomes slack and the mind becomes lazy; it means that your whole being is in repose, wholeheartedly and single-mindedly aware of itself just sitting.  Without relaxing it would be difficult to gain power from this practice.  A comfortable posture will help you be at ease.  While sitting you may feel discomfort, pain, or soreness.  In this instance, to relax does not mean you should just go slack.  Take this opportunity to become fully aware of your body as a whole.  Do not focus on or localize any parts that give you pain.  Instead, see them in the context of your total-body awareness.  You know that in this whole body there is an area that is painful, but you can be detached from the pain.  Being detached from your pain means that you are aware of but not bothered by it.  But you must know this very clearly while maintaining your correct posture.  If you maintain this attitude, your awareness of the discomfort will recede.  This is how to relax.

If underlying your awareness of your body there is also an understanding of impermanence, you will gain insight into sensations as they rise, abide, and fall away of their own accord.  In fact, feelings of pain are opportunities to regulate and attune your mind.  These phenomena are there for you to develop your mind.  Do not try to escape or give in to them; rather, make full use of them.

From The Method of No-Method: The Chan Practice of Silent Illumination

Silent Illumination -- Serene Clarity

By: Rebecca Li

The Chinese words for Silent Illumination can also be translated as "serene clarity."  It is a helpful choice of words because serene does not immediately imply no sound, which tends to be the automatic association most of us make with the word silence.  The word serene evokes tranquil, calm, unflustered, or unagitated.  Letting be.  For example, seeing thoughts and allowing them rather than pushing them away.  Think of Silent Illumination as this practice of allowing.  We can be serene about what is going on and clearly aware that there are thoughts.  We needn't fall into our compulsion to push them away or act on them; instead, we can allow the thought to be here--fully seen, heard and experienced--and move on.

From: Illumination

Silent Illumination (Shikantaza) is an Act of Compassion

By: Rebecca Li

Making the mind anything but just mind as it is, is not Silent Illumination. By just staying continuously with what is going on, with clarity, we are being truly kind to ourselves and cultivating the habit of being unconditionally compassionate to everyone we encounter.

From: Illumination: A Guide to the Buddhist Method of No Method. Li is a Chan teacher and dharma heir of Simon Child, in the lineage of Master Sheng Yen.

Establishing Your Meditation Posture

By: Bhikkhu Analayo

The sitting posture needs to be such that the spine is kept straight.  Here some degree of continuity of attention to the posture is required to avoid and slumping of the body….Keeping the body erect could be achieved by slowly passing our attention through the spine from bottom to top, relaxing each vertebra.  Such relaxing enables a natural alignment of the spine, by just letting gravity pull downwards.  The overall sense is as if the body were suspended from above, at the top of the head, and the rest of it relaxes downwards.  The resulting erectness of the body is not something to be held in a fixed manner.  Instead, the body remains flexible, comparable to a slender tree in the wind.  Such flexibility allows for minor adjustments to occur whenever we notice that the body is not fully in balance.  Needless to say, this does not mean that we keep shifting around all the time, but just that we avoid holding the posture rigidly and with tension, be it when sitting on the ground, a cushion, a bench, or a chair.

 In order to keep the body erect, we of course need to be aware of it.  Thus…[we] establish awareness of the body as a whole in the sitting posture and to some degree also monitor it throughout the meditation session, at least until such a deep level of concentration is reached that the posture of the body naturally remains firm.

From Mindfulness of Breathing. Bhikkhu Analayo is perhaps the foremost contemporary scholar-monk in the Theravadin tradition. Among the many books that he has published, his works on the four foundations of mindfulness—Satipatthana: The Direct Path to Realization and Satipatthana Meditation: A Practice Guide—are exceptional.

A Fully Permitted Exhalation and an Open House For Your Breathing

By: Charlotte Selver

…Being as busy as we are, with one activity heaped on top of another, our heads have lost their elasticity and freedom. Often this lack of freedom is created through the holding of too much inhalation inside of us, which doesn’t permit the cleaning out, the sweeping out, the renewing that is needed. Only fully permitted exhalation can do this. It would be helpful to give yourself plenty of time to find out whether you allow exahling as needed; that means whatever time exhaling wants to take when you do not do it, but allow it until you have, so to speak, a feeling of satisfaction, of completion.

It is also possible that, having permitted a satisfactory exhalation, nothing further seems to occur immediately in breathing. Don’t be upset by this. At one point breathing will start again. There is no need to worry if inhalation does not come immediately after the exhalation; and please listen to me as I say once more, if it comes, not if you inhale. Who can feel the difference? You know, some people take a breath. Wait until it comes by itself! And allow it to distribute in you as it wants to. In other words, be an open house for your breathing, and don’t manipulate it.

All this is a question of sensitivity, and when you orient yourself, you become a fine disoverer. It is much better when you find out about things for yourself, when you trust your own sensations and learn from them and do not have to be told everything. That is truly “exploring.” And you will be delighted at how clear a language the organism speaks.

Allowing Breathing

By: Charlotte Selver

…breathing comes by itself, spontaneously—if we allow it. Therefore, it is the allowing—the possibility of becoming more permissive—that we want to explore.

When we become more sensitive for what being permissive means, then the whole day is full of opportunities for exercising this possibility of becoming more permissive—or, if I might say it differently, more loving in the way we contact whatever we may contact. As soon as we become more open for something we do, we find that the first thing in which we can recognize this increased openness is our breathing.

…Exploring breathing really needs to be a practice, but a practice which is absolutely new each time—not a repetition of old ways, but a finding out what is going on in the condition and activity in which you happen to be at a particular moment. No moment can be compared with another; in wach there is something new to discover.

Breathing Is Always as the Person Is

By: Charlotte Selver

…Breathing is always as the person is. It is the clearest index of what is happening in the person—unless it is made up. Many people think they should breathe “properly.” Forget it! It is no use, because there is no “proper” breathing. Your breathing indicates very clearly what state you are in. When you are more reactive, your breathing is more reactive; when you are more habitual, your breathing is more habitual; if you are pushy, your breathing gets pushy too, or stops.

Breathing Connects Us With the World

By: Charlotte Selver

We by nature are not isolated from the world around us…and the process of breathing is connected with everything which happens in us and around us, just as plants are connected to everything around them.

All the mysterious interwovenness which is happening in the living organism is coming to expression in every moment in which we are living in our environment.

We are usually not awake enough for it, but sometimes you may have noticed that when something or somebody really interests you, you’re speeded up, even when you were tired a moment ago. Your breathing changes; you are functioning quite differently than before.

From Reclaiming Vitality and Presence: Sensory Awareness as a Practice for Life. Charlotte Selver (1901-2003) was a teacher of the Gindler/Jacoby method of awareness and exercise, a somatic bodywork method she further developed and taught after her arrival in the United States from Germany in 1938 as Sensory Awareness. Her work was highly influential to Wilhelm Reich, Erich Fromm, and Fritz Perls (one of the founders of Gestalt Therapy). Selver frequently taught at the San Francisco Zen Center and its affiliated centers, and Suzuki Roshi was well acquainted with her. Her Sensory Awareness method has a close affinity with Soto Zen.

Face to Face with the Object of Meditation

By: Sayadaw U Pandita

It is as if you are walking along a road and you meet a traveler, face to face, coming from the opposite direction. When you are meditating, the mind should meet the object in just this way.  Only through direct confrontation with an object can true mindfulness arise.

They say that the human face is the index of character.  If you want to size up a person, you look at his or her face very carefully and then you can make a preliminary judgment.  If you do not examine the face carefully and instead become distracted by other parts of his or her body, then your judgment will not be accurate.  

In meditation you must apply a similar, if not sharper, degree of care in looking at the object of observation.  Only if you look meticulously at the object can you understand its true nature.  When. you look at a face for the first time, you get a quick, overall view of it.  If you look more carefully, you will pick up details--say, of the eyebrows, eyes, and lops.  First you must look at the face as a whole, and only later will details become clear.

Similarly, when you are watching the rising and falling of your abdomen, you begin by taking an overall view of these processes.  First you bring your mind face to face with the rising and falling.  After repeated successes you will find yourself able to look closer.  Details will appear to you effortlessly, as if by themselves.  You will notice different sensations in the rise and fall, such as tension, pressure, heat, coolness, or movement.

From In This Very Life: The Liberation Teachings of the Buddha. Sayadaw U Pandita (1921-2016) was a towering figure in the Insight meditation tradition of Burma. He was a successor to Mahasai Sayadaw and taught many prominent American meditation teachers,

Tuning the Breath in Zazen

By: Keizan Jokin

When sitting in meditation, your body may seem hot or cold, uneasy or uncomfortable, sometimes stiff, sometimes loose, sometimes heavy, sometimes light, sometimes startled awake.  This is all because the breath is not in tune and needs to be tuned.  The way of tuning the breath is as follows: open your mouth, letting the breath be long or short, gradually harmonizing it; following it for a while, when a sense of awareness comes, the breath is then in good tune.  After that let the breath pass naturally through the nose.

Keizan Jokin (1268-1325) is considered the “second founder” of Soto Zen. Keizan and his disciples are credited with spreading Soto Zen in Japan, away from monastic practice and toward a popular religion appealing to all levels of Japanese society.

What We Call "I" is Just a Swinging Door

By: Shunryu Suzuki Roshi

When we practice zazen our mind always follows our breathing.  When we inhale, the air comes into the inner world.  When we exhale, the air goes out to the outer world.  The inner world is limitless, and the outer world is limitless.  We say the “inner world” or “outer world,” but actually there is just one whole world.  In this limitless world, our throat is like a swinging door.  The air comes in and goes out like someone passing through a swinging door.  If you think “I breathe,” the “I” is extra.  There is no you to say “I”.  What we call “I” is just a swinging door when we inhale and when we exhale.  It just moves; that is all.  When your mind is pure and calm enough to follow this movement, there is nothing: no “I”, no world, no mind, nor body, just a swinging door.

From Zen Mind, Beginner’s Mind