The moment I posted the last blogpost about donating to the SF Zen Center Touching the Earth Sit-a-Thon and Run for Our Sons/Parent Project MD to end Duchenne Muscular Dystrophy, two bombs were set off at the Boston Marathon in Boston, Massachusetts on Patriot's Day this past Monday. How can I be considering asking for money for these causes I strongly believe in when there is an immediate, massive tragedy brought on by human violence? How do any of us make sense of this horrific occurrence? Not only that it occurred, but that we as human beings would have the physical and emotional ability to destroy and devastate so tangibly and psychologically. It makes no sense to me.
As much as I have difficulty with people and situations and I feel the emotions of anger and hurt, I find that these feelings are so unpleasant and uncomfortable that I would not want others, my fellow human beings, to spend any/as much/more time feeling them. This life is difficult enough. There is no need to impose more suffering. In fact, wouldn't it be better for all of us if we all did our share to alleviate some of the suffering? Like it or not, this is where we are, riding this earth together. It reminds me of a quote I was asked to memorize in fourth, fifth, and sixth grade for an assembly about the earth. Archibald MacLeish, the author of the quote, was writing about the first images of the earth taken from space:
"To see the earth as it truly is, small and blue and beautiful in that eternal silence where it floats, is to see ourselves as riders on the earth together, brothers on that bright loveliness in the eternal cold -- brothers who know now they are truly brothers."
I just looked this quote up, and found it was the closing to a larger piece. It seems to me MacLeish's heart and sentiments are that of a Buddha here. Please consider his words. http://cecelia.physics.indiana.edu/life/moon/Apollo8/122568sci-nasa-macleish.html
Wednesday, April 17, 2013
Monday, April 15, 2013
Touching the Earth Sit-a-Thon
This is where I ask for your help and support, both emotionally and financially. I am participating in two fund-raising events, the first of which is most pressing as the deadline is next Sunday, April 21, 2013. That is the San Francisco Zen Center Touching the Earth Sit-a-Thon. The second event, the Disneyland Half Marathon in which I'll be running with Run for Our Sons to end Duchenne Muscular Dystrophy, will happen on September 1, 2013. I would love for you to support me in both of these important and charitable events. If you can give comfortably, please consider distributing the amount you can give to both causes.
Donate to the SFZC Sit-a-Thon here at my donation page:
https://secure.commonground.convio.com/sfzc/spring2013sitathon/project.html?personalFundraisingProjectId=a1AU0000000IVotMAG&showMessage=true
Watch the live stream from the Buddha Hall at City Center from 9am to 5pm PST on Sunday, April 21, 2013:
http://new.livestream.com/SFZC/events/2035482
Donate to Run for Our Sons/Parent Project MD and my team, EJ's Ebullience here:
http://www.parentprojectmd.org/goto/lydialinker2013
The San Francisco Zen Center needs financial support to keep its three practice centers alive, running, and in good health. Why does SF Zen Center need to be supported and kept alive? Aside from the fact that I live here and it's my home, and aside from wanting to support the precept on vowing not to kill but support all life, the SF Zen Center is a place where anyone can come and sit zazen. It is a refuge for all who need a refuge.
Why is zazen so important? What is it about just sitting that is beneficial? I think that's part of practice and something that is individual. For me, zazen or sitting silent meditation, is a moment for me to be silent, to breathe, to collect myself, to check in with myself, to quiet and still my mind, to open my heart, and to just be without all the extra. It is also nice to practice lovingkindness meditation and to dedicate the merit of my practice to others or all beings. But if I was to make an argument for sitting and needing some supported facts or historical texts to back me up, Eihei Dogen strongly believed the act of sitting zazen is the mudra of becoming Buddha, and that practicing this zazen mudra and realizing the enlightenment that Buddha experienced are one and the same, not separate. That sitting zazen is practice realization.
Choosing the path of the bodhisattva, or enlightening being, is about becoming a Buddha and saving all beings. Dogen truly believed, and so do I, that the main practice of a bodhisattva is zazen. This is how we awaken and help all beings to awaken. This is a noble pursuit and not an easy choice to make. Pema Chodron describes bodhisattvas as bodhisattva warriors. There is a fearlessness about vowing to save all beings and become a Buddha. One of the ways I am practicing as a bodhisattva warrior is to fundraise to keep Zen Center running and to sit zazen for the entire day next Sunday. The sitting will be live-streamed from the Buddha Hall at SFZC City Center and I will be there from 9am to 5pm. I am dedicating the merit of this sitting to all beings as well as SFZC specifically.
And in September, my bodhisattva warrior actions will be to run this half marathon for my friend's nephew, Elijah, and for all the boys diagnosed with Duchenne Muscular Dystrophy. Elijah turns 10 years old this month (April), and it was only mid-year last year that his legs weren't able to carry him around anymore. Elijah gets around in a scooter wheel chair and although his muscles hurt him, he's usually smiling and being his charming self. The life expectancy of someone with Duchenne is less than 30 years old. When I look at Elijah and see how painful it is to be in his body, to see how he can't do half as much physically as his classmates and friends, I also see how fully he experiences his life, just as it is. I am thankful for my body, for all the pain I feel as much as for all the freedom it gives me, and I am thankful for my life. How can I not do the little bit of fundraising to help progress research to end Duchenne MD and how can I not run for a few hours in support of this research?
I thank you, dear reader, for your consideration and your support, for your reading of this blog, for your emotional/spiritual support, for your financial support, for your sharing of this blog, for your response to this blog, and for your life and practice. Deep heartfelt bows to all.
https://secure.commonground.convio.com/sfzc/spring2013sitathon/project.html?personalFundraisingProjectId=a1AU0000000IVotMAG&showMessage=true
http://www.parentprojectmd.org/goto/lydialinker2013
Donate to the SFZC Sit-a-Thon here at my donation page:
https://secure.commonground.convio.com/sfzc/spring2013sitathon/project.html?personalFundraisingProjectId=a1AU0000000IVotMAG&showMessage=true
Watch the live stream from the Buddha Hall at City Center from 9am to 5pm PST on Sunday, April 21, 2013:
http://new.livestream.com/SFZC/events/2035482
Donate to Run for Our Sons/Parent Project MD and my team, EJ's Ebullience here:
http://www.parentprojectmd.org/goto/lydialinker2013
The San Francisco Zen Center needs financial support to keep its three practice centers alive, running, and in good health. Why does SF Zen Center need to be supported and kept alive? Aside from the fact that I live here and it's my home, and aside from wanting to support the precept on vowing not to kill but support all life, the SF Zen Center is a place where anyone can come and sit zazen. It is a refuge for all who need a refuge.
Why is zazen so important? What is it about just sitting that is beneficial? I think that's part of practice and something that is individual. For me, zazen or sitting silent meditation, is a moment for me to be silent, to breathe, to collect myself, to check in with myself, to quiet and still my mind, to open my heart, and to just be without all the extra. It is also nice to practice lovingkindness meditation and to dedicate the merit of my practice to others or all beings. But if I was to make an argument for sitting and needing some supported facts or historical texts to back me up, Eihei Dogen strongly believed the act of sitting zazen is the mudra of becoming Buddha, and that practicing this zazen mudra and realizing the enlightenment that Buddha experienced are one and the same, not separate. That sitting zazen is practice realization.
Choosing the path of the bodhisattva, or enlightening being, is about becoming a Buddha and saving all beings. Dogen truly believed, and so do I, that the main practice of a bodhisattva is zazen. This is how we awaken and help all beings to awaken. This is a noble pursuit and not an easy choice to make. Pema Chodron describes bodhisattvas as bodhisattva warriors. There is a fearlessness about vowing to save all beings and become a Buddha. One of the ways I am practicing as a bodhisattva warrior is to fundraise to keep Zen Center running and to sit zazen for the entire day next Sunday. The sitting will be live-streamed from the Buddha Hall at SFZC City Center and I will be there from 9am to 5pm. I am dedicating the merit of this sitting to all beings as well as SFZC specifically.
And in September, my bodhisattva warrior actions will be to run this half marathon for my friend's nephew, Elijah, and for all the boys diagnosed with Duchenne Muscular Dystrophy. Elijah turns 10 years old this month (April), and it was only mid-year last year that his legs weren't able to carry him around anymore. Elijah gets around in a scooter wheel chair and although his muscles hurt him, he's usually smiling and being his charming self. The life expectancy of someone with Duchenne is less than 30 years old. When I look at Elijah and see how painful it is to be in his body, to see how he can't do half as much physically as his classmates and friends, I also see how fully he experiences his life, just as it is. I am thankful for my body, for all the pain I feel as much as for all the freedom it gives me, and I am thankful for my life. How can I not do the little bit of fundraising to help progress research to end Duchenne MD and how can I not run for a few hours in support of this research?
I thank you, dear reader, for your consideration and your support, for your reading of this blog, for your emotional/spiritual support, for your financial support, for your sharing of this blog, for your response to this blog, and for your life and practice. Deep heartfelt bows to all.
https://secure.commonground.convio.com/sfzc/spring2013sitathon/project.html?personalFundraisingProjectId=a1AU0000000IVotMAG&showMessage=true
http://www.parentprojectmd.org/goto/lydialinker2013
Tuesday, March 26, 2013
Sesshin: In the Zen Kitchen
Sesshin began Sunday (technically, Saturday evening after dinner around 7:30pm immediately following the reading of the admonitions.). Sesshin is a fully silent and introspective period of time lasting a day or longer. This sesshin is six days long. I have participated in a number of sesshins ranging from day-long sittings to the seven-day Buddha's Enlightenment sesshin. I have participated as a fully supported individual just following the schedule completely. I have also participated as a key supporting element of the schedule, for example one of the time-keepers on the doanryo (fukudo and doan). This time I am in the sesshin schedule as a nourishing support. I am cooking in the kitchen.
I have been working in Zen Center's kitchen full time for about 5 weeks now. Previously I had volunteered twice weekly in the afternoons for about a year. Outside of Zen Center, my kitchen experience is limited to work-study in the cafe at the San Francisco Art Institute and the desperate struggle to feed myself in my own kitchen with the help of The Joy of Cooking. My copy of The Joy of Cooking was the sweetest and best going away gift I received from my friends' mom, who encouraged me to let go of my fears of not knowing how to cook. What I'm trying to make clear is I never grew up feeling comfortable and confident in the kitchen. I watched my friends move around their kitchens with ease and whip up delicious meals seemingly effortlessly. For me, the experience is painstakingly slow in following the recipe to its letter (and numerically measured amount).
If you read Suzuki Roshi who founded San Francisco Zen Center, his most famous book, Zen Mind, Beginner's Mind as well as the name of the City Center Temple where I live, is all about Beginner's Mind. He says, "In the beginner's mind, there are many possibilities, while in the expert's mind, there are few." Even though the kitchen has much potential for danger, walking into the kitchen with beginner's mind opens up the possibility to nourish my friends, the community, the sangha with really yummy food. In the kitchen, especially during sesshin, we work in mostly silence. Functional speech is necessary, but too much explanation and talk can pull attention away from the vegetable we're scrubbing and chopping, or the soup we're cooking and developing, or the knives and pots we're cleaning. Paying attention to what I'm doing in the moment and being with what I'm doing in that moment allows me to not only impart my intentions of love, care, health, and well-being, but also keeps me safe from burning myself or accidentally cutting myself or accidentally harming the others I'm moving around the kitchen with. Being in the kitchen during sesshin is also much like being on doanryo during sesshin. Each member has an important part and as we each do our assigned task, we move together as one body, creating three meals a day to feed the entire community.
This sesshin, the Tenzo (head cook), gave me the responsibility of making the soups. There is always soup for lunch as the main dish. Being a Zen monastery, our offerings are vegetarian and nothing fancy as monks have begged for alms in the past. We do not individually go door to door with our bowls these days, but Zen Center runs on the dana (generosity and monetary donation) we receive from the friends and community who support us. So our meals are not full of extravagant ingredients, but we get a lot of greens (kale, chard, spinach, cabbage) from Green Gulch Farm, and of course necessary items. In the buying, we purchase seasonally and we try to purchase locally and organically. Although City Center is short staffed and has resorted to purchasing, the three Zen Centers generally make their own granola, yogurt, fresh squeezed juices (when the fruits are available), stock, and reuse leftovers in many ways so as not to waste any bit of the food that was offered to us.
So as I tend to the soups, I am thinking about how all the flavors develop and come together over time in the pot. Each time I stir the pot, I am trying to take care of each item in the pot. I am encouraging the onions to get sweeter and darker over time. I am encouraging the carrots and celery and chard stems and broccoli stems to soften and surrender to the olive oil and heat. I am taking care not to tear the leaves of chard and kale and spinach and sorrel. I am releasing the aromatics of the bay leaves and parsley and thyme and rosemary. I am stirring my heartfelt wish to feed, heal, and love the community. I appreciate being allowed the time to give the soup this attention.
I am also developing a relationship with fire and heat. Normally I see fire and heat as a difficult element and really my reason for not feeling very confident in the kitchen. Fire will burn as hot as fire burns and at that heat it will not only burn itself into existence, but will burn other things out of their desired existence. How do I develop the soup without charring the onions and leaving a burnt flavor in the soup, in all the soups? How do I "tame" this fire? Today I learned that it's not about me controlling the fire. Fire is going to burn and heat as it does. In the Sandokai or Harmony of Difference and Equality chant, it says "The four elements return to their natures.... Fire heats, wind moves, water wets, earth is solid..." Meaning that these elements are being just as they are. Instead of me trying to make the fire do what I want it to do, I need to pay attention to what the fire is doing. Is there too much of it? Can I turn the flame down a bit? How does the flame act with this pot? How does the flame act with that pot? When the onions are sizzling loudly, what are they telling me? Are they saying the fire is too much or is the fire just right for now but maybe will be too much in the next moment? Today I'm going to practice with the fire and share its energy. Perhaps we will heat and warm the bellies of the community together.
I have been working in Zen Center's kitchen full time for about 5 weeks now. Previously I had volunteered twice weekly in the afternoons for about a year. Outside of Zen Center, my kitchen experience is limited to work-study in the cafe at the San Francisco Art Institute and the desperate struggle to feed myself in my own kitchen with the help of The Joy of Cooking. My copy of The Joy of Cooking was the sweetest and best going away gift I received from my friends' mom, who encouraged me to let go of my fears of not knowing how to cook. What I'm trying to make clear is I never grew up feeling comfortable and confident in the kitchen. I watched my friends move around their kitchens with ease and whip up delicious meals seemingly effortlessly. For me, the experience is painstakingly slow in following the recipe to its letter (and numerically measured amount).
If you read Suzuki Roshi who founded San Francisco Zen Center, his most famous book, Zen Mind, Beginner's Mind as well as the name of the City Center Temple where I live, is all about Beginner's Mind. He says, "In the beginner's mind, there are many possibilities, while in the expert's mind, there are few." Even though the kitchen has much potential for danger, walking into the kitchen with beginner's mind opens up the possibility to nourish my friends, the community, the sangha with really yummy food. In the kitchen, especially during sesshin, we work in mostly silence. Functional speech is necessary, but too much explanation and talk can pull attention away from the vegetable we're scrubbing and chopping, or the soup we're cooking and developing, or the knives and pots we're cleaning. Paying attention to what I'm doing in the moment and being with what I'm doing in that moment allows me to not only impart my intentions of love, care, health, and well-being, but also keeps me safe from burning myself or accidentally cutting myself or accidentally harming the others I'm moving around the kitchen with. Being in the kitchen during sesshin is also much like being on doanryo during sesshin. Each member has an important part and as we each do our assigned task, we move together as one body, creating three meals a day to feed the entire community.
This sesshin, the Tenzo (head cook), gave me the responsibility of making the soups. There is always soup for lunch as the main dish. Being a Zen monastery, our offerings are vegetarian and nothing fancy as monks have begged for alms in the past. We do not individually go door to door with our bowls these days, but Zen Center runs on the dana (generosity and monetary donation) we receive from the friends and community who support us. So our meals are not full of extravagant ingredients, but we get a lot of greens (kale, chard, spinach, cabbage) from Green Gulch Farm, and of course necessary items. In the buying, we purchase seasonally and we try to purchase locally and organically. Although City Center is short staffed and has resorted to purchasing, the three Zen Centers generally make their own granola, yogurt, fresh squeezed juices (when the fruits are available), stock, and reuse leftovers in many ways so as not to waste any bit of the food that was offered to us.
So as I tend to the soups, I am thinking about how all the flavors develop and come together over time in the pot. Each time I stir the pot, I am trying to take care of each item in the pot. I am encouraging the onions to get sweeter and darker over time. I am encouraging the carrots and celery and chard stems and broccoli stems to soften and surrender to the olive oil and heat. I am taking care not to tear the leaves of chard and kale and spinach and sorrel. I am releasing the aromatics of the bay leaves and parsley and thyme and rosemary. I am stirring my heartfelt wish to feed, heal, and love the community. I appreciate being allowed the time to give the soup this attention.
I am also developing a relationship with fire and heat. Normally I see fire and heat as a difficult element and really my reason for not feeling very confident in the kitchen. Fire will burn as hot as fire burns and at that heat it will not only burn itself into existence, but will burn other things out of their desired existence. How do I develop the soup without charring the onions and leaving a burnt flavor in the soup, in all the soups? How do I "tame" this fire? Today I learned that it's not about me controlling the fire. Fire is going to burn and heat as it does. In the Sandokai or Harmony of Difference and Equality chant, it says "The four elements return to their natures.... Fire heats, wind moves, water wets, earth is solid..." Meaning that these elements are being just as they are. Instead of me trying to make the fire do what I want it to do, I need to pay attention to what the fire is doing. Is there too much of it? Can I turn the flame down a bit? How does the flame act with this pot? How does the flame act with that pot? When the onions are sizzling loudly, what are they telling me? Are they saying the fire is too much or is the fire just right for now but maybe will be too much in the next moment? Today I'm going to practice with the fire and share its energy. Perhaps we will heat and warm the bellies of the community together.
Sunday, March 17, 2013
Inconceivable Beauty
During the Green Gulch Intensive in January, the schedule included classes lead by Tenshin Reb. Usually the last part of class was open to our questions. During one of these times, someone brought up the Suzuki Roshi quote, "To say a flower is 'beautiful' is a sin." Although at first this quote sounds off-putting (Flowers are beautiful. In what universe could it be a sin to call it as it is?!), I find the depth of this statement very interesting.
When we think about language and words, these things we say and words we use are merely pointers to the things we wish to talk about or refer to. The idea that comes into my head when the word flower, for example, is spoken (or written) is going to be different from the idea that comes into your head. My flower might be a red rose in a vase while your flower might be a white daisy in a flower bed outside. We use language and words so that we have a reference point that is similar, but our interpretations of words will very rarely if ever be the same. This is the difficulty of language. I'm finding that this is also how arguments arise.
Back to what Suzuki Roshi was saying when he said that calling a flower beautiful is a sin. The flower is at its core and essence a flower and its flower-ness is inconceivable. Of course a flower is beautiful. In fact, its flower-ness is more than beautiful. The word "beautiful" itself is not enough to describe how beautiful beautiful is. So saying that a flower is beautiful is not doing the flower justice because it is more than beautiful. The flower-ness of the flower and the beauty of beautiful is greater than the mere words. These are so great, in fact, they are indescribable; they are inconceivable. It would be a sin to call a flower anything. A flower is at its essence a flower.
When I think about words being a place holder for things and a way for us to share ideas about the world around us, I think about art as another form of language and communication. I believe, as an artist, it is my responsibility to convey the way I see things, moments, and ideas that are breathtaking in order to share those incredible things, moments, and ideas with others. And even though my resulting art piece might be lovely and beautiful to others, I usually feel what was captured is never quite as amazingly beautiful as what I perceived and experienced. For example, I once did a painting of the sun rising over the peaceful beach of the Outerbanks in North Carolina. The sun rose rather quickly and I painted the full painting in the few hours of pre-sunrise and during sunrise, and then I was done. My mom loved the painting and still loves it because she had it framed and it's hanging in my parents' home. Every time I look at that painting I feel a little disappointed because it doesn't look as impressive as the actual experience was. How could it? The sun itself is such a force of nature and to see the first rays of light shining from the other edge of the earth, breaking the dawn, dispersing the darkness, is a moment that is just inconceivable in its heart of beauty and breathtaking-ness. Of course I think art is important and artists are champions of the beauty around us. We are preservers of the appreciation of things that make us sigh. How can we convey with enough homage and respect this inconceivable beauty of the world and universe? This is my art question, direction, and quest.
When we think about language and words, these things we say and words we use are merely pointers to the things we wish to talk about or refer to. The idea that comes into my head when the word flower, for example, is spoken (or written) is going to be different from the idea that comes into your head. My flower might be a red rose in a vase while your flower might be a white daisy in a flower bed outside. We use language and words so that we have a reference point that is similar, but our interpretations of words will very rarely if ever be the same. This is the difficulty of language. I'm finding that this is also how arguments arise.
Back to what Suzuki Roshi was saying when he said that calling a flower beautiful is a sin. The flower is at its core and essence a flower and its flower-ness is inconceivable. Of course a flower is beautiful. In fact, its flower-ness is more than beautiful. The word "beautiful" itself is not enough to describe how beautiful beautiful is. So saying that a flower is beautiful is not doing the flower justice because it is more than beautiful. The flower-ness of the flower and the beauty of beautiful is greater than the mere words. These are so great, in fact, they are indescribable; they are inconceivable. It would be a sin to call a flower anything. A flower is at its essence a flower.
When I think about words being a place holder for things and a way for us to share ideas about the world around us, I think about art as another form of language and communication. I believe, as an artist, it is my responsibility to convey the way I see things, moments, and ideas that are breathtaking in order to share those incredible things, moments, and ideas with others. And even though my resulting art piece might be lovely and beautiful to others, I usually feel what was captured is never quite as amazingly beautiful as what I perceived and experienced. For example, I once did a painting of the sun rising over the peaceful beach of the Outerbanks in North Carolina. The sun rose rather quickly and I painted the full painting in the few hours of pre-sunrise and during sunrise, and then I was done. My mom loved the painting and still loves it because she had it framed and it's hanging in my parents' home. Every time I look at that painting I feel a little disappointed because it doesn't look as impressive as the actual experience was. How could it? The sun itself is such a force of nature and to see the first rays of light shining from the other edge of the earth, breaking the dawn, dispersing the darkness, is a moment that is just inconceivable in its heart of beauty and breathtaking-ness. Of course I think art is important and artists are champions of the beauty around us. We are preservers of the appreciation of things that make us sigh. How can we convey with enough homage and respect this inconceivable beauty of the world and universe? This is my art question, direction, and quest.
Sunday, March 3, 2013
Grave Precept 3: Not Misusing Sexuality
It's been longer than I've wanted since writing my last blog post. A lot has been happening for me since the last blog post that has taken my time and attention away from writing at my computer. I've officially moved into SF Zen Center, City Center, Beginner's Mind Temple, or Hosshin-ji (www.sfzc.org/cc). This happened a lot sooner than I expected. It's been a hectic rush of moving the things and items that I immediately need for my day to day. That was my Valentine's Day celebration: moving in. It's been a hectic rush of moving the things I'm not ready to let go of into storage (thank you Zipvan!). It's been exhausting and exhilarating working in the kitchen at Zen Center full-time as a Work Practice Apprentice. I have a couple of hours break in the afternoon which is really for rest because of the physicality of working in the kitchen, but I've been selling and getting rid of my boxes of comic books, my personal library of books, CDs, and DVDs during that break time, so I feel extra exhausted. I'm very thankful that sitting and practice is a self-sustaining, energizing joy for me. Otherwise I might collapse!
Enough with background and excuses, what's been on my mind lately is the precept of Not Misusing Sexuality. I think for the most apparent reasons, when I think about sex, I like to think of the enjoyment of sex and it's usually the case that for most of the time, whether I'm in a relationship or not, I'm not in the act of experiencing sex. And even when I am experiencing sex, it's not always the case that it is enjoyable or that it is what my expectations of having sex are at the time. So, of course, I want to talk about and think about sex, the enjoyable or pleasurably naughty kind.
Part of moving into Zen Center as well as participating in the practice periods here, is the signing of a contract, or shingi. I believe I read that Eihei Dogen, the teacher who brought Buddhism to Japan from China in the 12th century and founder of Eihei-ji temple in Japan, the big Soto Zen monastery, developed the shingi contract as a way for the monks at Eihei-ji to live together harmoniously and with a common understanding. I also believe that Dogen's idea for the shingi is based on the sixteen bodhisattva precepts. I am not sure what the Eihei-shingi says about not having romantic relationships and not misusing sexuality, but the SF Zen Center shingi is clear about not starting a romantic relationship within the first six months of residency. The individual practice period contracts also state that the signer will not start a romantic relationship for the duration of the practice period. On the surface of this tenet, it seems to promote abstinence and feels like sex is a sin or romantic feelings are wrong, but I don't see it as such. A lot of emotions arise when starting to concentrate on practice. All of these precepts walk the line of what is healthy and what is a distraction. If my choice is to focus on practice, I don't want to distract myself with the pleasures and enjoyment of sex and romance. I've even felt at times that fantasizing about a fictional romantic relationship or sex or how I wish actual relationships would be is more painful than enjoyable. Not to mention the time and attention and focus that being in a romantic relationship needs in order for the relationship to flourish. This attention would take away from the focus on practice. So the shingi is about helping us focus on our intention rather than being the dreaded parental rules of the house.
I've also had a couple of conversations with friends around movies, a documentary and a movie based on a true story, with sex slavery/human trafficking and underage sex work as the subject matter. All of us agree that underage girls being forced or coerced into having sex or the sex industry (which for me includes pornography, "modeling," "hostessing," escorting, prostitution, brothels, pimps/madams, stripping/exotic dancing, online "chatting/dating" paid per minute/visit) is absolutely unethical. Underage girls and boys are not mature enough to make sexual decisions for themselves in the same way that adult men and women can make sexual decisions for themselves, and that's deemed lawfully regardless of any ethical background. Also forcing someone into a sexual act or situation regardless of age is misusing sexuality. This is also a law, although when two adults are involved in a sexual coercion accusation with no other witnesses, it's difficult to enforce. All in all, the ethics around underage sex and non-consentual sex seems clearly a misuse of sexuality. What seems to also be a misuse of sexuality to me is supporting these venues where underage and enslaved people are forced into any type of sex work. So the people who create the sex business and the people who abduct the sex workers are misusing sex for their own gain. Not only is the not misusing sexuality precept being broken but also not being possessive, not stealing, not lying, not praising self at the expense of others, not harboring ill will, and not disparaging the three treasures (Buddha, dharma, sangha) (although all the precepts are intimately linked, so breaking one is, in essence, breaking them all). I also believe that the people who partake in the offering, whether it's consuming porn pictures or video, or paying for a prostitute, are also misusing sexuality. There is nothing wrong with feeling sexual or looking at porn or enjoying sex or wanting to have sex when you aren't in a relationship and don't have a regular sexual partner. I think feeling sexual and desiring sex is a normal part of being human and we all have our particulars that arouse us and get us off. But by being a consumer of the sex industry creates the market for the sex industry which raises the demand which helps the people who enslave others to continue to do this, so in essence the consumer is paying the sex trafficker/pimp/enslaver and thereby supporting the misuse of sexuality as well as supporting greed, stealing, lying, ill will, and disparaging the three treasures. And then my thoughts expand upon that. What if I choose to go into the sex industry? I am in need of money and income. I know that I am physically able to be a stripper or work a pay-per-view online chat room. As a consenting adult, I can choose to work in the sex industry. But if I do this, am I not also creating the market for the sex industry? If I'm filling a need of consumers, that creates more consumers, which then supports the sex traffickers to up their quota of sex slaves. Isn't this misusing sexuality? Even if it's unintentional, doesn't the choice to work in the sex industry help to support the people who choose unethical and unlawful means of sex work? If I am choosing the bodhisattva path to save all beings and become a Buddha, I have to choose not to work in the sex industry, even if it's consensual on my part, even if I create my boundaries, even if I protect my sexuality, even if I believe I'm offering something to people who equally compensate me. As a bodhisattva warrior, I have to choose not to work in the sex industry because I will not be saving the beings who become enslaved, who are forced into sex, who are underage, who become addicted to drugs, who are greedy, who are enslaving others, who are misusing sexuality.
Enough with background and excuses, what's been on my mind lately is the precept of Not Misusing Sexuality. I think for the most apparent reasons, when I think about sex, I like to think of the enjoyment of sex and it's usually the case that for most of the time, whether I'm in a relationship or not, I'm not in the act of experiencing sex. And even when I am experiencing sex, it's not always the case that it is enjoyable or that it is what my expectations of having sex are at the time. So, of course, I want to talk about and think about sex, the enjoyable or pleasurably naughty kind.
Part of moving into Zen Center as well as participating in the practice periods here, is the signing of a contract, or shingi. I believe I read that Eihei Dogen, the teacher who brought Buddhism to Japan from China in the 12th century and founder of Eihei-ji temple in Japan, the big Soto Zen monastery, developed the shingi contract as a way for the monks at Eihei-ji to live together harmoniously and with a common understanding. I also believe that Dogen's idea for the shingi is based on the sixteen bodhisattva precepts. I am not sure what the Eihei-shingi says about not having romantic relationships and not misusing sexuality, but the SF Zen Center shingi is clear about not starting a romantic relationship within the first six months of residency. The individual practice period contracts also state that the signer will not start a romantic relationship for the duration of the practice period. On the surface of this tenet, it seems to promote abstinence and feels like sex is a sin or romantic feelings are wrong, but I don't see it as such. A lot of emotions arise when starting to concentrate on practice. All of these precepts walk the line of what is healthy and what is a distraction. If my choice is to focus on practice, I don't want to distract myself with the pleasures and enjoyment of sex and romance. I've even felt at times that fantasizing about a fictional romantic relationship or sex or how I wish actual relationships would be is more painful than enjoyable. Not to mention the time and attention and focus that being in a romantic relationship needs in order for the relationship to flourish. This attention would take away from the focus on practice. So the shingi is about helping us focus on our intention rather than being the dreaded parental rules of the house.
I've also had a couple of conversations with friends around movies, a documentary and a movie based on a true story, with sex slavery/human trafficking and underage sex work as the subject matter. All of us agree that underage girls being forced or coerced into having sex or the sex industry (which for me includes pornography, "modeling," "hostessing," escorting, prostitution, brothels, pimps/madams, stripping/exotic dancing, online "chatting/dating" paid per minute/visit) is absolutely unethical. Underage girls and boys are not mature enough to make sexual decisions for themselves in the same way that adult men and women can make sexual decisions for themselves, and that's deemed lawfully regardless of any ethical background. Also forcing someone into a sexual act or situation regardless of age is misusing sexuality. This is also a law, although when two adults are involved in a sexual coercion accusation with no other witnesses, it's difficult to enforce. All in all, the ethics around underage sex and non-consentual sex seems clearly a misuse of sexuality. What seems to also be a misuse of sexuality to me is supporting these venues where underage and enslaved people are forced into any type of sex work. So the people who create the sex business and the people who abduct the sex workers are misusing sex for their own gain. Not only is the not misusing sexuality precept being broken but also not being possessive, not stealing, not lying, not praising self at the expense of others, not harboring ill will, and not disparaging the three treasures (Buddha, dharma, sangha) (although all the precepts are intimately linked, so breaking one is, in essence, breaking them all). I also believe that the people who partake in the offering, whether it's consuming porn pictures or video, or paying for a prostitute, are also misusing sexuality. There is nothing wrong with feeling sexual or looking at porn or enjoying sex or wanting to have sex when you aren't in a relationship and don't have a regular sexual partner. I think feeling sexual and desiring sex is a normal part of being human and we all have our particulars that arouse us and get us off. But by being a consumer of the sex industry creates the market for the sex industry which raises the demand which helps the people who enslave others to continue to do this, so in essence the consumer is paying the sex trafficker/pimp/enslaver and thereby supporting the misuse of sexuality as well as supporting greed, stealing, lying, ill will, and disparaging the three treasures. And then my thoughts expand upon that. What if I choose to go into the sex industry? I am in need of money and income. I know that I am physically able to be a stripper or work a pay-per-view online chat room. As a consenting adult, I can choose to work in the sex industry. But if I do this, am I not also creating the market for the sex industry? If I'm filling a need of consumers, that creates more consumers, which then supports the sex traffickers to up their quota of sex slaves. Isn't this misusing sexuality? Even if it's unintentional, doesn't the choice to work in the sex industry help to support the people who choose unethical and unlawful means of sex work? If I am choosing the bodhisattva path to save all beings and become a Buddha, I have to choose not to work in the sex industry, even if it's consensual on my part, even if I create my boundaries, even if I protect my sexuality, even if I believe I'm offering something to people who equally compensate me. As a bodhisattva warrior, I have to choose not to work in the sex industry because I will not be saving the beings who become enslaved, who are forced into sex, who are underage, who become addicted to drugs, who are greedy, who are enslaving others, who are misusing sexuality.
Wednesday, February 6, 2013
In the Heart of Stillness and Quiet: Deeply Met
Probably my treasure of experiences from the 2013 Green Gulch Intensive happened at the end of oryoki dinner service on the first day of sesshin. Sesshin is a time of deep silence and introspection, and although there's no communication with the outside world or even your fellow practitioners who you've been bonding with over the first two weeks, this silence and solitude creates a very supportive environment (or container) that feels very safe.
Over the course of two weeks, the teacher, Reb, had been talking about prajna paramita, or the wisdom of reality, being at the heart of each moment. We can glimpse this wisdom or light or prajna paramita, without grasping tightly to it, by practicing the six paramitas in each moment. Welcome the moment and what it brings. Be kind and generous with what arises. Practice ethics with it, for example not killing or denying what is arising. Be still and quiet with the moment. Have a focused, concentrated effort with the moment. And finally experience wisdom or prajna paramita with the moment. It's difficult to grasp that practice is about practicing with the six paramitas from moment to moment and not only with the difficulties that arise and cause us to obviously suffer.
When my ex-boyfriend and I would have difficult arguments, he would tell me that I was not meeting him. This would upset me more because it was true, and yet I didn't know how to meet him. I would also feel like I wasn't being met. My body would tense up, I could feel my chest and throat contract. All that would come out of my mouth and throat would be screaming words. My anxiety level would be off the charts and I wouldn't know how to come back to grounded. I felt like this was how I could find the way to meet him, but it wasn't working. I then questioned my ability to meet anyone.
Back to the first day of sesshin and serving oryoki dinner. The oryoki serving crew serves all the meals in the day. We were the first crew to serve during sesshin which has a different schedule from the regular Intensive schedule. Instead of only breakfast and lunch service, during sesshin, tea and dinner are served formally in the zendo in addition to breakfast and lunch. As much as I enjoy serving oryoki (see the last blog post) it takes a lot of energy to serve one meal, let alone four. I love it, yet it is exhausting. It takes a lot of physical stamina as well as concentrated presence. By dinner time I usually say to myself, "I know you're tired, but now is the time to hang in and stay more focused than ever. Just one more service then you can relax." The Green Gulch zendo is long, and the servers begin by entering through the main doors, down three stairs, around the great altar, and then straight ahead like flying down a runway, before reaching Senior Dharma Teacher and Abbess at the other end of the zendo. Dinner service moves quickly because only two bowls are served and there is no chanting. My energy at dinner time felt heightened. We had a swift and clean service of wiping down the meal boards, which is actually a running full speed action, serving the first pot of medicine bowl, serving the second pot of sautéd greens, seconds of both pots, and hot water to clean the bowls. We were ready to bring the buckets for the water offering. I was the first server out on the teacher, Reb's side of the zendo. With my high energy, I felt myself flying down the "runway" trying to stay in pace with my partner server on the other side of the zendo. As I approached Reb, he already had his hands in gassho. I slowed my body down as much as I could right before reaching him, side stepped, bowed to and with him, and then placed the bucket, angled, at the edge of the meal board in front of his bowl. I could feel my heartbeat still heavy and fast in my chest from the runway. Reb moved so slowly to his very full bowl. I saw his hands on the bowl but I didn't see him pick it up. I realized he was moving much slower than I was and his whole energy/internal timing/biorhythm was at a much slower state than mine. I found myself slowing my breathing. I wanted to be as still as possible so he could pour the water into the bucket without spilling. I didn't want him to feel rushed to do this. As I watched his hands on the bowl, the bowl itself, the water in the bowl, and the deep blackness of the bowl and its water, I found such a deep stillness and patience of just being in that moment. I felt the arising of my service of providing the bucket meet the arising of Reb's need to move the water out of his bowl meet the arising of the water in the bowl needing to move to the bucket. I felt this stillness not just in me, but I felt it from Reb and I felt it from the water in the black bowl. This is as close as I can come with words to describing what I perceived to have happened, but I know that what happened is indescribable. It is one of the most beautiful experiences I've ever experienced. The thought that came to me after all the stories of what it meant came and went was, In the heart of stillness and quiet is prajna paramita.
Later I shared my experience with Reb in dokusan. I said it was the only time I know when I felt a deep meeting that arose simultaneously. It wasn't only about me slowing down to meet him and it wasn't only about him moving to meet me. We found each other and it arose naturally, and when the moment was gone, there was a new moment to practice with, so there was no need to hold tightly to the "success" of that meeting. In the next moment, everything in me slowed down and I bowed deeply to Reb. Then at my slower internal pacing I met the next pair with my bucket and their water offerings. In dokusan, Reb found my experience wonderful and wished me many more meetings as deeply met. Yes, and I wish for us all to have such deeply met meetings in our lives.
Over the course of two weeks, the teacher, Reb, had been talking about prajna paramita, or the wisdom of reality, being at the heart of each moment. We can glimpse this wisdom or light or prajna paramita, without grasping tightly to it, by practicing the six paramitas in each moment. Welcome the moment and what it brings. Be kind and generous with what arises. Practice ethics with it, for example not killing or denying what is arising. Be still and quiet with the moment. Have a focused, concentrated effort with the moment. And finally experience wisdom or prajna paramita with the moment. It's difficult to grasp that practice is about practicing with the six paramitas from moment to moment and not only with the difficulties that arise and cause us to obviously suffer.
When my ex-boyfriend and I would have difficult arguments, he would tell me that I was not meeting him. This would upset me more because it was true, and yet I didn't know how to meet him. I would also feel like I wasn't being met. My body would tense up, I could feel my chest and throat contract. All that would come out of my mouth and throat would be screaming words. My anxiety level would be off the charts and I wouldn't know how to come back to grounded. I felt like this was how I could find the way to meet him, but it wasn't working. I then questioned my ability to meet anyone.
Back to the first day of sesshin and serving oryoki dinner. The oryoki serving crew serves all the meals in the day. We were the first crew to serve during sesshin which has a different schedule from the regular Intensive schedule. Instead of only breakfast and lunch service, during sesshin, tea and dinner are served formally in the zendo in addition to breakfast and lunch. As much as I enjoy serving oryoki (see the last blog post) it takes a lot of energy to serve one meal, let alone four. I love it, yet it is exhausting. It takes a lot of physical stamina as well as concentrated presence. By dinner time I usually say to myself, "I know you're tired, but now is the time to hang in and stay more focused than ever. Just one more service then you can relax." The Green Gulch zendo is long, and the servers begin by entering through the main doors, down three stairs, around the great altar, and then straight ahead like flying down a runway, before reaching Senior Dharma Teacher and Abbess at the other end of the zendo. Dinner service moves quickly because only two bowls are served and there is no chanting. My energy at dinner time felt heightened. We had a swift and clean service of wiping down the meal boards, which is actually a running full speed action, serving the first pot of medicine bowl, serving the second pot of sautéd greens, seconds of both pots, and hot water to clean the bowls. We were ready to bring the buckets for the water offering. I was the first server out on the teacher, Reb's side of the zendo. With my high energy, I felt myself flying down the "runway" trying to stay in pace with my partner server on the other side of the zendo. As I approached Reb, he already had his hands in gassho. I slowed my body down as much as I could right before reaching him, side stepped, bowed to and with him, and then placed the bucket, angled, at the edge of the meal board in front of his bowl. I could feel my heartbeat still heavy and fast in my chest from the runway. Reb moved so slowly to his very full bowl. I saw his hands on the bowl but I didn't see him pick it up. I realized he was moving much slower than I was and his whole energy/internal timing/biorhythm was at a much slower state than mine. I found myself slowing my breathing. I wanted to be as still as possible so he could pour the water into the bucket without spilling. I didn't want him to feel rushed to do this. As I watched his hands on the bowl, the bowl itself, the water in the bowl, and the deep blackness of the bowl and its water, I found such a deep stillness and patience of just being in that moment. I felt the arising of my service of providing the bucket meet the arising of Reb's need to move the water out of his bowl meet the arising of the water in the bowl needing to move to the bucket. I felt this stillness not just in me, but I felt it from Reb and I felt it from the water in the black bowl. This is as close as I can come with words to describing what I perceived to have happened, but I know that what happened is indescribable. It is one of the most beautiful experiences I've ever experienced. The thought that came to me after all the stories of what it meant came and went was, In the heart of stillness and quiet is prajna paramita.
Later I shared my experience with Reb in dokusan. I said it was the only time I know when I felt a deep meeting that arose simultaneously. It wasn't only about me slowing down to meet him and it wasn't only about him moving to meet me. We found each other and it arose naturally, and when the moment was gone, there was a new moment to practice with, so there was no need to hold tightly to the "success" of that meeting. In the next moment, everything in me slowed down and I bowed deeply to Reb. Then at my slower internal pacing I met the next pair with my bucket and their water offerings. In dokusan, Reb found my experience wonderful and wished me many more meetings as deeply met. Yes, and I wish for us all to have such deeply met meetings in our lives.
Monday, February 4, 2013
The Emptiness of the Three Wheels: Oryoki
I love serving oryoki.
For those that don't know what oryoki is, it's a formal meal eaten while sitting in the zendo. I've been told that oryoki means "just enough," and refers to taking and eating just enough food. Oryoki is eaten sitting on your cushion. Normally we face the wall when sitting zazen, however for oryoki, we face out with the meal board in front of us. We lay out our bowls on the meal board and use the meal board as a table. Hence its name. This is also why we don't want to put our feet on or stand on the meal board when getting in and out of the seat for zazen. It's like standing and walking on the dining room table with your dirty bare feet and then sitting down to eat a meal there. Not to worry if you do accidentally step on the meal board, part of the order to the oryoki meal is wiping down the meal boards.
Also for oryoki meals, you need a set of bowls. Lay practitioners at SFZC use sets of three bowls. Priests have formal oryoki sets that have seven bowls and some extra additional items. Your bowls are all bundled up in a cloth, so you can keep your bowls at your seat and they are ready for each meal in the zendo. During the intensive we ate breakfast and lunch as formal oryoki meals in the zendo, and then during the last five days of sesshin, we had breakfast, lunch, tea, and supper as formal oryoki meal service.
The order to oryoki meal and service is this. The practice period leader sits at their seat. In this case, it was Tenshin Roshi. Everyone should be inside the zendo and settled before the leader sits. Then oryoki service starts, and service in this case is the people who are servers begin their duties. There is chanting during the oryoki form, but I don't refer to this as a service. The first thing that happens is servers come in and wipe down the meal boards. At SFZC, we serve gomasio (sesame salt) as a condiment, and it is the next thing that the servers distribute to the people in the zendo. Then the Soku, or the person in charge of the oryoki service in its entirety, offers the Buddha Tray meal to Manjusri on the altar. After the offering, everyone in the zendo opens their oryoki bowls and places them out. This takes some time, so the servers and the Soku are still during this time.
When opening your bowls, the first thing is pulling open the tie at the top and folding that wrapping cloth into a rectangular placemat on the meal board. On top of the bowls are a wiping cloth, utensil case, and napkin. For now, the wiping cloth and utensil case get tucked under your robes in front of you. The napkin opens right up and spreads out directly on your lap. Then use both hands to move the big Buddha bowl over to the left of your placemat. Use your thumbs to hook the inside of the smallest bowl, lift, and place to the far right. Use thumbs again in the same method for the middle bowl and place it in the middle. The utensils go down next. The setsu (cleaning stick) is on top and can be pulled out and placed between the second and third bowls, tip toward you and handle hanging out a little. From inside the case, chopsticks are placed at the bottom of the placemat, point to the right, and then spoon under chopsticks, face up, bowl to the right. Utensil case goes back underneath robes. And you're set up.
Once everyone is mostly set up, the Kokyo (chant leader) will lead a chant during which the oryoki servers begin entering the zendo to serve the food. There are three pots, one item per bowl. The first pot is usually a grain, for breakfast a hot cereal like oatmeal and for lunch something like rice. The second bowl is usually a hot liquid that can be ladled, like stewed fruit for breakfast and soup for lunch. The third bowl is usually a spatula or tong dish, like yogurt or nuts for breakfast and green salad for lunch. This is my favorite part of serving oryoki. As a server, you want to move through the zendo swiftly and quietly. This is a challenge because the pots are heavy and hot, and if it's full of liquid, it can slosh easily. But this is a meal, so you don't want the energy to put people to sleep. I also don't like the feeling of being rushed as someone eating and being served in the zendo, so I don't want to move in the zendo like I'm worried about running out of time. Just calm and swift. There is a lizard that can run on the surface of water. The lizard is running, but its body is present and calm and upright as it runs. I have the image of this lizard running on water in my head as I'm moving through the zendo for oryoki service. However, with all the swiftness of moving through the zendo, once you are in front of the two people you will be serving, then the time is all about them. I stop, side step in front of the pair, take a breath and bow deeply. Place the pot down on the meal board, kneel down, and use both hands to serve the food. There are hand gestures for a little bit more, a ceremonial amount, and enough. As a server, I try to pay attention to the hand gestures, pay attention to my serving, try not to spill any food on the bowl or meal board or person, and try not to make a lot of noise with the pot and serving utensil. Some food is easy and neat and clean to serve. Some food is really drippy and messy and takes longer for me to serve. Some of the people receiving are nervous and don't know what to do and might not hold their bowl close enough or might pull their bowl away quickly. Some of the people receiving might make me nervous, like serving Tenshin Roshi or the abbess, and my hands might be shaking. You never know what it's going to feel like with each person you serve and each time you're serving, so you just have to do your best by meeting the moment as is. This is what I love about serving oryoki.
The other being in the equation is the food itself. Before servers take their pot into the zendo, we take a moment to stir the pot a bit. This is a practical action that mixes any settling and breaks up any clumping for easier service. It can also redistribute the heat and can allow the utensil(s) to settle in the food and the pot. For me, this action allows me to connect with the food. I get a little stir at the same time. Now, when I carry the pot into the zendo, it's not just a pot of food, it's nourishment for the people sitting in the zendo and needs care not to be spilled or wasted. The entire act of serving the people sitting with cared for food is an endless wheel of giver, receiver, and gift, no one more important than the other and all three relying on the other two to exist and be of service.
When the last pot is served and the servers leave the zendo, the receivers chant the meal chant:
We reflect on the effort that brought us this food and consider how it comes to us.
We reflect on our virtue and practice and whether we are worthy of this offering.
We regard it as essential to keep the mind free from excesses such as greed.
We regard this food as good medicine to sustain our life.
For the sake of enlightenment we now receive this food.
First this is for the three treasures.
Next for the four benefactors.
Finally for the beings in the six realms.
May all be equally nourished.
The first portion is to end all evil.
The second is to cultivate all good.
The third is to free all beings.
May we all realize the Buddha way.
It is a mindful meal and a mindful way to eat. As oryoki means just enough, in case you finish all your food and are still hungry in the few minutes allotted, seconds are served. You need to have finished everything in your bowl before asking for seconds, and you shouldn't eat your seconds until all three bowls have been offered and all the servers have left the zendo. Once the third bowl seconds servers have left, you can eat your seconds and if you've finished your food, you can start cleaning your bowls with your setsu. The setsu is used to scrape up every bit of food. This is another chance to taste and appreciate the meal. Then the servers come back to collect the gomasio. After allowing time to scrape clean the bowls, the servers return with hot water. This water will clean all of your bowls and your utensils. The server will pour water in your Buddha bowl until you motion enough. I don't like to use a lot of water, but I also need enough to clean the sides of my bowls because I usually fill my second bowl to the top, so for me it's a delicate balance of when to motion the server enough. I've had careless servers pour very quickly, which is dangerous because this is tea-steeping hot water. I try to pour at a medium, steady pace and I try to pour onto the bowl surface to keep from making much splashing noise. Once you get water, start washing your bowls, beginning with the Buddha bowl and using the setsu to wash the spots not submerged by water. From the Buddha bowl, the water is poured into the second bowl, using the wiping cloth to dry off the Buddha bowl. Wash spoon and chopsticks in the second bowl, dry off on the wiping cloth and put back into the utensil holder. Wash the second bowl using the setsu, then pour the water in the third bowl and dry off the second bowl and place it in the Buddha bowl. If you have too much water, drink the extra from the second bowl. Clean the third bowl with the setsu, leave the water, and dry off the setsu and put the setsu on the utensil holder. The servers come in with one final service, buckets to discard your cleaning water, however, "This water we use to wash our bowls tastes like ambrosia. We offer it to the many spirits to satisfy them...". So it's not discarding but offering and it's polite to pour off all but a last sip so that you get a final taste of the entire meal offering. Once this bowl is empty, it can be dried off and nested in the second bowl and then the oryoki bowl set can be wrapped back up, folding the placemat cloth over the bowls, folding and replacing the lap napkin, replacing the utensils, stretching out and laying out the wiping cloth, and then tying the whole bundle up. Servers come in to wipe down the meal boards one more time, some final words from the Kokyo, and it's the end of meal service.
Although the meal is over for the receivers, the servers have yet to eat. We clean up all the gomasio and kettles and water buckets, as well as gather pots for the servers' meal. When we can sit down to our meal, it is also a formal event and we serve each other in a wrote way. All the same etiquette is observed as happens in the zendo. The entire crew needs to support each other throughout the entire serving action. It is a bonding experience all done in silence. This servers' meal becomes a deeper connection to each other, to our work, to the food. Beautiful things happen of the moment as a serving crew bonds. Intimacy is a better description of this bonding. When a crew is intimately connected, we move as one body, we fill in the holes intuitively. One of these beautiful moments was during sesshin. It was tea service on our second day of serving, so we were so familiar with each other and how we move and work. We were serving seconds on the tea, and with seconds one server starts at one end of the zendo while the second server starts at the other end and they walk along the people serving only those who have their hands in gassho, indicating the request for seconds, until the servers meet and then can walk quickly to the door to either exit or wait until all servers are at the door and bow together to exit. So as I came to meet my seconds serving partner, two people sitting right next to each other put their hands in gassho. Normally one server would serve the two, but because we arrived together we both bowed simultaneously, one in front of each of the receivers. These receivers were sitting on the floor, so both of us servers kneeled down in seiza, knees angled toward the altar, and poured the tea until the enough gesture, and stood back up to bow deeply to our individual receivers, and we did all of this completely in sync with each other, moving, breathing, pacing in time with each other. The woman I served smiled and bowed so deeply, my story is that she saw the same beauty in the moment that I did.
"May we with all beings realize the emptiness of the three wheels; giver, receiver, and gift."
For those that don't know what oryoki is, it's a formal meal eaten while sitting in the zendo. I've been told that oryoki means "just enough," and refers to taking and eating just enough food. Oryoki is eaten sitting on your cushion. Normally we face the wall when sitting zazen, however for oryoki, we face out with the meal board in front of us. We lay out our bowls on the meal board and use the meal board as a table. Hence its name. This is also why we don't want to put our feet on or stand on the meal board when getting in and out of the seat for zazen. It's like standing and walking on the dining room table with your dirty bare feet and then sitting down to eat a meal there. Not to worry if you do accidentally step on the meal board, part of the order to the oryoki meal is wiping down the meal boards.
Also for oryoki meals, you need a set of bowls. Lay practitioners at SFZC use sets of three bowls. Priests have formal oryoki sets that have seven bowls and some extra additional items. Your bowls are all bundled up in a cloth, so you can keep your bowls at your seat and they are ready for each meal in the zendo. During the intensive we ate breakfast and lunch as formal oryoki meals in the zendo, and then during the last five days of sesshin, we had breakfast, lunch, tea, and supper as formal oryoki meal service.
The order to oryoki meal and service is this. The practice period leader sits at their seat. In this case, it was Tenshin Roshi. Everyone should be inside the zendo and settled before the leader sits. Then oryoki service starts, and service in this case is the people who are servers begin their duties. There is chanting during the oryoki form, but I don't refer to this as a service. The first thing that happens is servers come in and wipe down the meal boards. At SFZC, we serve gomasio (sesame salt) as a condiment, and it is the next thing that the servers distribute to the people in the zendo. Then the Soku, or the person in charge of the oryoki service in its entirety, offers the Buddha Tray meal to Manjusri on the altar. After the offering, everyone in the zendo opens their oryoki bowls and places them out. This takes some time, so the servers and the Soku are still during this time.
When opening your bowls, the first thing is pulling open the tie at the top and folding that wrapping cloth into a rectangular placemat on the meal board. On top of the bowls are a wiping cloth, utensil case, and napkin. For now, the wiping cloth and utensil case get tucked under your robes in front of you. The napkin opens right up and spreads out directly on your lap. Then use both hands to move the big Buddha bowl over to the left of your placemat. Use your thumbs to hook the inside of the smallest bowl, lift, and place to the far right. Use thumbs again in the same method for the middle bowl and place it in the middle. The utensils go down next. The setsu (cleaning stick) is on top and can be pulled out and placed between the second and third bowls, tip toward you and handle hanging out a little. From inside the case, chopsticks are placed at the bottom of the placemat, point to the right, and then spoon under chopsticks, face up, bowl to the right. Utensil case goes back underneath robes. And you're set up.
Once everyone is mostly set up, the Kokyo (chant leader) will lead a chant during which the oryoki servers begin entering the zendo to serve the food. There are three pots, one item per bowl. The first pot is usually a grain, for breakfast a hot cereal like oatmeal and for lunch something like rice. The second bowl is usually a hot liquid that can be ladled, like stewed fruit for breakfast and soup for lunch. The third bowl is usually a spatula or tong dish, like yogurt or nuts for breakfast and green salad for lunch. This is my favorite part of serving oryoki. As a server, you want to move through the zendo swiftly and quietly. This is a challenge because the pots are heavy and hot, and if it's full of liquid, it can slosh easily. But this is a meal, so you don't want the energy to put people to sleep. I also don't like the feeling of being rushed as someone eating and being served in the zendo, so I don't want to move in the zendo like I'm worried about running out of time. Just calm and swift. There is a lizard that can run on the surface of water. The lizard is running, but its body is present and calm and upright as it runs. I have the image of this lizard running on water in my head as I'm moving through the zendo for oryoki service. However, with all the swiftness of moving through the zendo, once you are in front of the two people you will be serving, then the time is all about them. I stop, side step in front of the pair, take a breath and bow deeply. Place the pot down on the meal board, kneel down, and use both hands to serve the food. There are hand gestures for a little bit more, a ceremonial amount, and enough. As a server, I try to pay attention to the hand gestures, pay attention to my serving, try not to spill any food on the bowl or meal board or person, and try not to make a lot of noise with the pot and serving utensil. Some food is easy and neat and clean to serve. Some food is really drippy and messy and takes longer for me to serve. Some of the people receiving are nervous and don't know what to do and might not hold their bowl close enough or might pull their bowl away quickly. Some of the people receiving might make me nervous, like serving Tenshin Roshi or the abbess, and my hands might be shaking. You never know what it's going to feel like with each person you serve and each time you're serving, so you just have to do your best by meeting the moment as is. This is what I love about serving oryoki.
The other being in the equation is the food itself. Before servers take their pot into the zendo, we take a moment to stir the pot a bit. This is a practical action that mixes any settling and breaks up any clumping for easier service. It can also redistribute the heat and can allow the utensil(s) to settle in the food and the pot. For me, this action allows me to connect with the food. I get a little stir at the same time. Now, when I carry the pot into the zendo, it's not just a pot of food, it's nourishment for the people sitting in the zendo and needs care not to be spilled or wasted. The entire act of serving the people sitting with cared for food is an endless wheel of giver, receiver, and gift, no one more important than the other and all three relying on the other two to exist and be of service.
When the last pot is served and the servers leave the zendo, the receivers chant the meal chant:
We reflect on the effort that brought us this food and consider how it comes to us.
We reflect on our virtue and practice and whether we are worthy of this offering.
We regard it as essential to keep the mind free from excesses such as greed.
We regard this food as good medicine to sustain our life.
For the sake of enlightenment we now receive this food.
First this is for the three treasures.
Next for the four benefactors.
Finally for the beings in the six realms.
May all be equally nourished.
The first portion is to end all evil.
The second is to cultivate all good.
The third is to free all beings.
May we all realize the Buddha way.
It is a mindful meal and a mindful way to eat. As oryoki means just enough, in case you finish all your food and are still hungry in the few minutes allotted, seconds are served. You need to have finished everything in your bowl before asking for seconds, and you shouldn't eat your seconds until all three bowls have been offered and all the servers have left the zendo. Once the third bowl seconds servers have left, you can eat your seconds and if you've finished your food, you can start cleaning your bowls with your setsu. The setsu is used to scrape up every bit of food. This is another chance to taste and appreciate the meal. Then the servers come back to collect the gomasio. After allowing time to scrape clean the bowls, the servers return with hot water. This water will clean all of your bowls and your utensils. The server will pour water in your Buddha bowl until you motion enough. I don't like to use a lot of water, but I also need enough to clean the sides of my bowls because I usually fill my second bowl to the top, so for me it's a delicate balance of when to motion the server enough. I've had careless servers pour very quickly, which is dangerous because this is tea-steeping hot water. I try to pour at a medium, steady pace and I try to pour onto the bowl surface to keep from making much splashing noise. Once you get water, start washing your bowls, beginning with the Buddha bowl and using the setsu to wash the spots not submerged by water. From the Buddha bowl, the water is poured into the second bowl, using the wiping cloth to dry off the Buddha bowl. Wash spoon and chopsticks in the second bowl, dry off on the wiping cloth and put back into the utensil holder. Wash the second bowl using the setsu, then pour the water in the third bowl and dry off the second bowl and place it in the Buddha bowl. If you have too much water, drink the extra from the second bowl. Clean the third bowl with the setsu, leave the water, and dry off the setsu and put the setsu on the utensil holder. The servers come in with one final service, buckets to discard your cleaning water, however, "This water we use to wash our bowls tastes like ambrosia. We offer it to the many spirits to satisfy them...". So it's not discarding but offering and it's polite to pour off all but a last sip so that you get a final taste of the entire meal offering. Once this bowl is empty, it can be dried off and nested in the second bowl and then the oryoki bowl set can be wrapped back up, folding the placemat cloth over the bowls, folding and replacing the lap napkin, replacing the utensils, stretching out and laying out the wiping cloth, and then tying the whole bundle up. Servers come in to wipe down the meal boards one more time, some final words from the Kokyo, and it's the end of meal service.
Although the meal is over for the receivers, the servers have yet to eat. We clean up all the gomasio and kettles and water buckets, as well as gather pots for the servers' meal. When we can sit down to our meal, it is also a formal event and we serve each other in a wrote way. All the same etiquette is observed as happens in the zendo. The entire crew needs to support each other throughout the entire serving action. It is a bonding experience all done in silence. This servers' meal becomes a deeper connection to each other, to our work, to the food. Beautiful things happen of the moment as a serving crew bonds. Intimacy is a better description of this bonding. When a crew is intimately connected, we move as one body, we fill in the holes intuitively. One of these beautiful moments was during sesshin. It was tea service on our second day of serving, so we were so familiar with each other and how we move and work. We were serving seconds on the tea, and with seconds one server starts at one end of the zendo while the second server starts at the other end and they walk along the people serving only those who have their hands in gassho, indicating the request for seconds, until the servers meet and then can walk quickly to the door to either exit or wait until all servers are at the door and bow together to exit. So as I came to meet my seconds serving partner, two people sitting right next to each other put their hands in gassho. Normally one server would serve the two, but because we arrived together we both bowed simultaneously, one in front of each of the receivers. These receivers were sitting on the floor, so both of us servers kneeled down in seiza, knees angled toward the altar, and poured the tea until the enough gesture, and stood back up to bow deeply to our individual receivers, and we did all of this completely in sync with each other, moving, breathing, pacing in time with each other. The woman I served smiled and bowed so deeply, my story is that she saw the same beauty in the moment that I did.
"May we with all beings realize the emptiness of the three wheels; giver, receiver, and gift."
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