Mettā Toward Self is Not Getting Rid of Anything

Pema Chödrön

…[L]ovingkindness—maitrī (Pali, mettā)—toward ourselves doesn’t mean getting rid of anything. Maitrī means that we can still be crazy, we can still be angry. We can still be timid or jealous or full of feelings of unworthiness. Meditation practice isn’t about trying to throw ourselves away and become something better. It’s about befriending who we are already. The ground of practice is you or me or whoever we are right now, just as we are. That’s what we come to know with tremendous curiosity and interest.

Curiosity involves being gentle, precise, and open—actually being able to let go and open. Gentleness is a sense of good-heartedness toward ourselves. Precision is being able to see clearly, not being afraid to see what’s really there. Openness is being able to let go and to open. When you come to have this kind of honesty, gentleness, and good-heartedness, combined with clarity about yourself, there’s no obstacle to feeling lovingkindness for others as well.

From “No(thing) to Improve”, Tricycle Magazine, March 20, 2021

Love Yourself and You Won't Hurt Others

By: Ānāgarika Munindra

If I do not love myself, I cannot love others also. If we really love ourselves, we cannot think wrongly, cannot talk wrongly, cannot act wrongly. If you know how to love yourself, you do not bring hatred anywhere. Mind is the forerunner of all good and evil. When mind becomes purified, it creates good karma. When mind is nonpolluted, then your action will be pure, the world will be pure. When you talk, it will be wise, nice, friendly. If you do not understand your anger and mind is influenced by anger, it becomes poisonous, and you suffer physically. When you act, it will create tension. It is the same for everybody.

From Living This Life Fully: Stories and Teachings of Munindra, by Mirka Knaster.

Munindra (1915-2003) was an Indian Vipassana teacher in the lineage of Mahasi Sayadaw. He was a teacher to Joseph Goldstein and Sharon Salzberg, among many others.

The Eleven Advantages of Mettā, According to the Buddha

The Buddha addressed the monks gathered at Jetavana at Anathapindika’s Monastery, in Savatthi as follows, regarding the advantages of mettā:

"Monks, eleven advantages are to be expected from the release (deliverance) of heart by familiarizing oneself with thoughts of loving-kindness (metta), by the cultivation of loving-kindness, by constantly increasing these thoughts, by regarding loving-kindness as a vehicle (of expression), and also as something to be treasured, by living in conformity with these thoughts, by putting these ideas into practice, and by establishing them. What are the eleven?

1. "He/she sleeps in comfort. 2. He/she awakes in comfort. 3. He/she sees no evil dreams. 4. He/she is dear to human beings. 5. He/she is dear to non-human beings. 6. Devas (gods) protect him/her. 7. Fire, poison, and sword cannot touch him/her. 8. His/her mind can concentrate quickly. 9. His/her countenance is serene. 10. He/she dies without being confused in mind. 11. If he/she fails to attain arahantship (the highest sanctity) here and now, he/she will be reborn in the brahma-world.”

From the Discourse on Advantages of Mettā, Anguttara Nikaya, 11.16, translated by Piyadassi Thera, and modified for gender inclusivity.

We Don't Need to Watch

By: Charlotte Selver

Is there watching and wishing…as opposed to simply being present and surprised by what sensations simply come and are there?  The art is not to watch it or to try to feel it but just to be there in it. 

Most of us are still under the influence of an education in which we were constantly watched, and watching, and judging was constantly asked from us.  It was asked by our parents, and it was asked by our teachers, but they didn’t understand what the organism actually is.  We have very much more endowment for being aware, for being alert, than most people realize.  I must admit that it is not easy to know the difference between letting something be conscious and watching it.  And it doesn’t come by trying to get it.  It will only come if we are hungry for it.  We don’t need to watch; we simply could be awake.  The moment we watch ourselves, we split ourselves in two.

Giving Up On Doing Things the "Right Way"

By: Charles Brooks

As children, we naturally gave full attention to everything, though it all may have changed every moment.  Then the authorities told us about our responsibility not just to do things but to do them right.  Since then, our attention has been divided between what we are doing and whether we are doing it right.  ….. we are not able to give our attention fully; there are too many whispers of conscience distracting us.  We must take the bull by the horns and deliberately practice, feeling how we do what we do, gradually learning to give up the cherished notions of the right way and the wrong way, which simply lead us away from the task itself, and coming more and more to feel the real situation and what it asks of us.

Trusting Your Own Inner Wisdom

By: Charlotte Selver

We have been thoroughly deprived of trusting the inner wisdom which each person has in him- or herself.  There lies a great unused richness in us, which we gradually have to dig out and develop.  When you get to it, you will be astonished by what comes into the open which you didn’t know was there.

Following Your Own Authority

By: Charles Brooks

During my life, I have often rejected one authority only to accept another.  Underneath, I was afraid at the thought of living in a world where there was not someone, somewhat like myself, who knew.  But I have now come to feel that, to know what one is doing with life, it is no use to consult authorities.  It is precisely through the veils which authorities have spun for us that our own ears and eyes and nerves must begin to penetrate if our hands are to grasp the world and our hearts to feel it.  We must recover our own capacity to taste for ourselves.  Then we shall be able to judge also.

A Relationship of Respect and Wonder

By: Charlotte Selver

There’s a certain relationship which we have to have with our inner functioning. That of respect and that of wonder. When we are quiet enough and positive enough that we can follow these fine indications inside which lead us to more functioning, we will find out what precious qualities we have which we don’t usually use.

On Not Wasting Time

By: Eihei Dogen

Even when you are uncertain, do not use this one day wastefully. It is a rare treasure to value. Do not compare it to an enormous jewel. Do not compare it to a dragon’s bright pearl. Old sages valued this one day more than their own living bodies. Reflect on this quietly. A dragon’s pearl may be found. An enormous jewel may be acquired. But this one day out of a hundred years cannot be retrieved once it is lost. What skillful means can retrieve a day that has passed? No historical documents have recorded any such means. Not to waste time is to contain the passage of days and months within your skin bag without leaking. Thus, sages and wise ones in olden times valued each moment, each day, and each month more than their own eyeballs or the nation’s land. To waste the passage of time is to be confused and stained in this floating world of name and gain. Not to miss the passage of time is to be in the way for the sake of the way.

Once you have clarity, do not neglect a single day. Wholeheartedly practice for the sake of the way and speak for the sake of the way. We know that buddha ancestors of old do not neglect each day’s endeavor. Reflect on this every day. Sit near a bright window and reflect on this, on mellow and flower-filled days. Sit in a plain building and remember it on a solitary rainy evening. Why do the moments of time steal your endeavor? They not only steal one day but steal the merit of many kalpas. What kind of enemy is the passage of time? How regrettable! Your loss of time would all be because of your negligence of practice. If you were not intimate with yourself, you would resent yourself.

From: Gyoji (Continuous Practice), translated by Mel Weitsman and Kaz Tanahashi, with David Schneider, Treasury of the True Dharma Eye: Zen Master Dogen’s Shobogenzo

"You are the song of your own making..."

By: Susan Suntree

You are the song of your own making

without knowing the notes.

Music rises without tongue

no strings no reeds

the sound begins

as a chorus.

Desert winds encircling brush

and spare stalks of grass--

how the dry sticks sing

is what the wind wants to know.

How do you hear

when even your ears are singing?

Note: Susan Suntree is a poet, long-time Zen practitioner and long-time member of the Just Show Up Zen Sangha.

Continuous Practice

By: Eihei Dogen

On the great road of buddha ancestors there is always unsurpassable practice, continuous and sustained.  It forms the circle of the way and is never cut off.  Between aspiration, practice, enlightenment, and nirvana, there is not a moment’s gap; continuous practice is the circle of the way.  This being so, continuous practice is undivided, not forced by you or others.  The power of this continuous practice confirms you as well as others.  It means your practice affects the entire earth and the entire sky in the ten directions.  Although not noticed by others or by yourself, it is so.

***

The effect of such sustained practice is sometimes not hidden.  Therefore, you aspire to practice.  The effect is sometimes not apparent.  Therefore, you may not see, hear, or know it.  Understand that although it is not revealed, it is not hidden.

As it is not divided by what is not hidden, apparent, existent, or not existent, you may not notice the causal conditions that led you to be engaged in the practice that actualizes you at this very moment of unknowing.  The reason you don’t see it is that becoming conscious of it is not anything remarkable.  Investigate in detail that it is so because the causal condition [the aspiration] is no other than continuous practice, although continuous practice is not limited by the causal condition.

From Gyoji (Continuous Practice), in Treasury of the True Dharma Eye: Zen Master Dogen’s Shobogenzo, Edited by Kazuaki Tanahahi

The Buddha's Enlightenment Story

By: Andrew Olendzki

(Condensed and abbreviated, from Lion’s Roar, September 29, 2020)

…the Buddha had an unusual ability not only to apply himself to anything he undertook, but, more importantly, to turn away from it and find a new way forward when he realized it was not effective--even when he was under duress to conform. This is first demonstrated when he walked away from a privileged upbringing to join a counterculture of forest dwelling ascetics. The world he was raised in was quite content with pursuing a life of sensual pleasure, as long as one also worked to gain wealth and did one's duty as a member of the elite ruling class. As a prince named Siddhartha he was groomed for this world, but turned away from it to search for something more meaningful…Gratification of the senses and the enjoyments of worldly success seem to him shallow and pointless if human life inevitably ends in old age, sickness, and death.

…He learned the ancient arts of meditation from a series of teachers, and here demonstrated for a second time the same ability to follow his own path in the face of great pressure to do otherwise.  As the wanderer now known as Gautama, he quickly mastered the concentration skills used to attain subtle and exalted mental states, and was invited by his teachers to join them as a leader of their community.  While this would have entailed honor and prestige among his fellow wanderers, he turned down the offer and set off again to follow his own path. Meditation was a valuable practice but only a temporary refuge. He was in search of a deeper wisdom, a solution that penetrated into the very nature of human suffering and showed how to end it once and for all.

In the next phase of his life the man who would become the Buddha took up the practice of extreme asceticism, following the guidance of peers who were convinced that by turning away from all pleasure and embracing pain one could root out the desire that holds a person in bondage to rebirth.  Starving himself to within an inch of his life, he eventually realized that this too was not leading to any extraordinary insights, and decided to start eating normally. This incensed his companions, who accused him of being weak and giving up too easily. Yet once again he was able to measure the value of a practice using his own experience rather than by accepting the opinion of others, and once again he set out alone to find another way.

Before long the wanderer Gautama, seated under a tree on a single particular night, had the transformative experience after which he became known as Buddha, “one who is awake.” What was the nature of this experience, and how did it change him so profoundly? What happened to him under that tree? However else it came to be understood over the centuries, we can be sure it involved a deep psychological transformation.

The Buddha's inner explorations had revealed suffering to be caused by three toxic emotional traits buried deep in the human psyche. When triggered by the pleasure/pain reflex, they emerge again and again as unhealthy mental states that cause unskillful and harmful behavior. Among these are greed--the craving to pursue, acquire, and hold on to anything that feels good--and its opposite, hatred, the craving to resist, destroy, or push away anything that feels bad. Together, greed and hatred serve to keep us discontented, always wanting our experience to be different than it is, either pleasant or less painful.

The third and most important toxin, he realized, was delusion--a basic ignorance pervading all our perceptions and views, leading us to presume the world is more stable than it is, to assume gratification is more sustainable than it is, and to think of ourselves as more substantial than we actually are.

With meditation the Buddha was able to see the world as the unfolding of a process rather than as a collection of things.  He saw that every moment is different, every event is unique, and each transient phenomenon arises and passes away in deep interrelationship with other phenomena. Human experience consists of episodes of consciousness in which information gathered by the senses is felt as pleasant or painful, interpreted to fit a narrative, and responded to in skillful or unskillful ways. When greed, hatred, or delusion are present, blazing like fires that scorched the mind and body, suffering is born; when these are absent, suffering goes to rest.

That night under the tree of awakening, the Buddha extinguished the fires of greed, hatred, and delusion, becoming a person within whom they were “fully quenched” (nirvana). As he described himself soon after his awakening: “All attachments have been severed, the heart’s been led away from pain; tranquil, one rests with utmost ease, the mind has found its way to peace.”  This is a description not of cosmological transcendence but of deep psychological healing.

Forgetting the Self, Dropping Away of Body and Mind

By: Eihei Dogen

To study the buddha way is to study the self.  To study the self is to forget the self.  To forget the self is to be actualized by myriad things.  When actualized by myriad things, your body and mind as well as the bodies and minds of others drop away.  No trace of realization remains, and this no trace continues endlessly.

From "Actualizing the Fundamental Point (Genjokoan), Moon in a Dewdrop, translated by Kaz Tanahashi and Robert Aitken.

Note: Other translations of this passage from the Genjokoan can be found on the blog page of this site.

Zazen and Karmic Consciousness

By: Shohaku Okumura

…In zazen we let go of our thought.  This letting go is “not-understanding.”  Thought is “understanding.”  By letting go we “do not-understanding.”  This sitting and letting go of thought, this opening the hand of thought, is the true Dharma eye.  That means that we are not grasping things with our karmic consciousness or with the thoughts that arise from it.

“Karmic consciousness” refers to the storage of our past experiences.  According to Yogacara teaching, our consciousness can be categorized into eight layers….[T]he deepest layer of our consciousness is our “storehouse consciousness.” All the experiences from birth or even before are stored in this deepest layer.  When we encounter a new object or situation, we interpret it according to what kind of seeds are stored in our storehouse. The way we view and react to things depends on the seeds we have.  This is karmic consciousness, and it is how we are unique:  each of us has different seeds stored in our storehouse.  That is the teaching of Buddhist psychology.

…Our zazen is a unique thing.  We face the wall without an object.  Still, many things rise in our consciousness.  For example, I might think about an incident that made me angry, maybe yesterday.  That event may be so powerful that no matter how many times I have tried to let go it still comes up.  Actually, when I am sitting and facing the wall the incident is already over.  It’s not reality anymore.  But it continues in my consciousness as if it were real.  During zazen I can see clearly that there’s no object, no person in front of me now.  It’s an illusion, just energy that still remains from those seeds in my storehouse consciousness.  So I can let go.  When we let go without grasping, without taking action based on our thoughts, we are released from our karmic consciousness.  This is the completely unique activity of zazen.

Of course, day-to-day things influence what’s going on in our minds.  If someone recently triggered my anger, thoughts come up about that person while I’m sitting.  I might try to figure out why the person said or did such a thing.  Anger also may arise.  Anger is a kind of energy; it comes back no matter how many times I try to let go. When I am sitting facing the wall, the person and the incident are already gone, yet the person is also still sitting within me.  The instant that brought up my anger is gone yet still seems to be there.  While sitting, I may try to figure out what kind of person this is and why he or she did this or that.

When I continue this way in zazen, moment by moment…, I get tired.  Somehow my mind calms down.  Eventually I realize that the reason this person did the thing that angered me is gone.  The anger, though, is still there as energy.  When I sit with this energy it goes deeper and deeper.  This is no longer the anger caused by the particular action or particular person.  Instead, I find that this anger is my self.  And still I sit and try to let go of whatever comes up, to just keep sitting.  Sometimes, not always, I experience that the anger disappears.

I have found that anger is not really caused by a particular person’s action.  The anger is inside me.  That person’s action or speech simply opens the lid of my consciousness. Feelings and thoughts always come from our own consciousness.  They come up in zazen; when we let go, we can let go, and that’s okay.  Zazen is a unique and precious practice.  In the zendo we can let go of everything.  This is really liberation – not only from our daily lives but also from the karmic consciousness created by our twisted karma.  In zazen we are determined not to take action based on the thoughts coming and going; therefore we don’t create new karma.  This is what it means that in zazen we are liberated from our karma. 

My teacher… taught that zazen itself is the true Dharma eye.  In other words, the true Dharma eye means not seeing things with our karmic consciousness.  This is the meaning of [my teacher’s] phrase ”opening the hand of thought.”  In ordinary life, thought leads to actions.  When we open the hand of thought, we let go and no actions arise.

…Only in zazen can we stop making karma.  When we leave the zendo we have to do something; to do something we have to make choices, and the choices I make depend on my values, which are influenced by my karmic consciousness. 

When we stand up from the cushion and go outside we cannot let go of everything; it would be dangerous.  When we leave the zendo we have to think again. We have to make choices about what we should and shouldn’t do.  In daily life I need to think and take actions using my knowledge, understanding, values, and picture of the world…

Our practice in daily life is about creating wholesome karma.  In this context, wholesome karma means to manifest in daily life what we experience in zazen: no separation between myself and other people and myriad things….That is our life based on zazen and the bodhisattva vows.

Note: This is from Chapter 1 of The Mountains and Waters Sutra

Four Aspects of Shikantaza, and Self-Fulfilling Samadhi

By: Hee-Jim Kim

Shikantaza (just sitting) consists of four aspects:

(1) It is that seated meditation which is objectless, imageless, themeless, with no internal or external devices or supports, and is non concentrative, decentered and open-ended. Yet it is a heightened, sustained, and total awareness of the self an the world.

(2) It seeks no attainment whatsoever, be it enlightenment, an extraordinary religious experience, supernormal powers, or buddhahood, and accordingly, it is non-teleological and simply ordinary.

(3) It is “the body-mind cast off” as the state of ultimate freedom, also called the samadhi of self-fulfilling activity (jijiyu zammai)

(4) It requires single-minded earnestness, resolve, and urgency on the part of the meditator.

Note: This quote is from Dogen on Meditation and Thinking: A Reflection of His View of Zen

Further note: Here is Katagiri Roshi (1928-1990), founder of the Minnesota Zen Center and an important figure in the transmission of Soto Zen from Japan to the West, on the meaning of jijuyu zammai (self-fulfilling samadhi):

Ji means self, ju means receive, yu means use and samadhi means oneness. This means you receive your life and simultaneously the whole universe. That is why samadhi is translated into Japanese as “right acceptance.” Right acceptance is to receive yourself and simultaneously the whole universe. We have to receive the universe and use it. You are you, but you are not you, you are the whole universe. That is why we are beautiful. If we wholeheartedly paint a certain scene from nature on canvas, it becomes not just a portion of nature that we pick out, it represents the whole picture of nature. At that time, that picture becomes a masterpiece… Drawing one line is not one line, this one line is simultaneously the whole picture. That is called jijuyu samadhi.

—This quote is taken from Katagiri’s book Returning to Silence.

Nonthinking: Hee-Jin Kim

By: Hee-Jin Kim

Nonthinking should be understood as…radically nondualistic thinking…objectless, non-referential thinking.

Note: Hee-Jin Kim is a leading scholar of Dogen and Professor Emerita of Religious Studies at the Uinversity of Oregon. He is the author of Dogen Kigen—Mystical Realist and Dogen on Meditation and Thinking: A Reflection on His View of Zen.

Nonthinking: Lewis Richmond

By: Lewis Richmond

In the last few years neurologists have been wiring up Zen meditators, and they’ve been discovering that the electrical patterns of the meditating brain look different than those of the normal waking mind. We might say that zazen is a different way to be awake. This difference may rest not so much in the cortex—the part that does thinking and logical tasks—but in the older parts of the brain, those having to do with emotion, spatial perception, and the faculty that defines the boundary of self and other.

This emerging neurological understanding may help us understand “think not-thinking” as a state where the higher brain functions are all operative and alert, but not purposefully active. We don’t shut down ordinary consciousness, as we would in states of deep concentration or trance. But we don’t apply our mind to anything in particular, either. Instead, we just rest in awareness itself, consciousness itself.

Nonthinking: Sojun Mel Weitsman

By: Sojun Mel Weitsman

Often we read or hear that we should stop the activity of thinking in order to meditate properly. But that is almost impossible. The mechanism of thinking is going on constantly like a rushing torrent, and although you can stop it for a few moments, it always wins. It’s like the bubbles in a fish tank. When we sit, we think the thought of zazen. When we breath, we think the thought of breathing, when sitting up straight, we think the thought of balance, and when working, we think the thought of work. In other words, our thought and our activity become one. Thinking and that which is thought are not separate.

Master Dogen calls this (“Think not thinking”) the art of zazen. When there is no gap, there is no discrimination. When our thoughts wander, as they will because they are always hungry, we bring them home where they belong, and include them in some satisfying work. When our thoughts sit zazen, they become enlightened. So when you sit, think the thought of zazen.

Note: Sojun Mel Weitsman (1929-2021) was a Soto Zen teacher and the founder, abott and guiding teacher of the Berkeley Zen Center. He practiced in the lineage of Suzuki Roshi and received dharma transmission from Hoitsu Suzuki, the son of Shunryu Suzuki Roshi. This quote is from a post on the Berkeley Zen Center website.

Nonthinking: Josho Pat Phelan

By: Josho Pat Phelan

In everyday language, it sounds like Dogen is saying to stop thinking. We all know what thinking is, and not-thinking is its opposite. But trying to stop thought by using discriminating consciousness to control consciousness creates a narrow, controlled experience. Both thinking and stopping thinking are found in the realm of duality; they are relative to one another. One can’t exist without the other because they mutually define each other like hot and cold, light and dark, forward and backward. But Dogen’s nonthinking is outside duality. Actually, the character translated as “non” in “non-thinking” includes the aspects of beyond, transcendent or emancipated. Kaz Tanahashi translated “nonthinking” both as “beyond thinking” and as “before thinking”. So, “nonthinking” is considered emancipated thinking which transcends and is free from both thinking and stopping thought.

Dogen was critical of meditation methods that involved stopping thought and controlling the mind in order to become absorbed completely in the object of meditation. This type of absorption usually removes awareness from the immediate environment and from one’s bodily presence.

Note: Josho Pat Phalen is the Guiding Teacher of the Chapel Hill Zen Center and is the dharma heir of Sojun Mel Weitsman in the Soto Zen lineage of Suzuki Roshi. This quote is taken from one of a series of dharma talks that she gave on the Fukanzazengi, and which can be found here.

Nonthinking: Kosho Uchiyama Roshi

By: Kosho Uchiyama Roshi

I have said that if you sit and think during zazen, then that is thinking and not doing zazen. Does that mean that no thoughts at all should occur to us during zazen? Is good zazen that condition when all thoughts have ceased to come into our minds?

Here we have to clearly distinguish “chasing after thoughts and thinking” from “ideas or thoughts merely occurring.” If a thought occurs during zazen and we proceed to chase after it, then we are thinking and no doing zazen. Yet this doesn’t mean that we are doing zazen only when thoughts have entirely ceased to occur. How should we understand this contradiction?

Imagine placing a large rock next to a person doing zazen. Since this rock is not alive, no matter how long it sits there, a thought will never occur to is. Unlike the rock, however, the person doing zazen next to it is a living human being. Even if we sit as stationary as the rock, we cannot say that no thoughts will occur. On the contrary, if they did not, we would have to say that that person is no longer alive. Of course, the truth of life never means to become lifeless like the rock. For that reason, thoughts ceasing to occur is not the ideal state of one sitting zazen. It is perfectly natural that thoughts occur. Yet, if we chase after thoughts we are thinking and no longer doing zazen. So what should our attitude be?

Briefly, our attitude in zazen is aiming at maintaining the posture of zazen without our flesh and bones, and with our mind letting go of thoughts.

What is letting go of thoughts? Well, when we think, we think of something. Thinking of something means grasping that something with thought. However, during zazen we open the hand of thought that is trying to grasp something, and simply refrain from grasping. This is letting go of thoughts.

Note: Kosho Uchiyama Roshi (1912-1998) was a Soto Zen priest and Abbott of Anatai-ji Monastery near Tokyo. Among his dharma heirs are Shohaku Okumura. This quote is taken from his book Opening the Hand of Thought.