The definition according to merriam-webster.com is:
- a) carry out, apply; b) to do or perform often, customarily, or habitually; c) to be professionally engaged in
- a) to perform or work at repeatedly so as to become proficient; b) to train by repeated exercises
Here, in this blog, I am talking about the practice of zazen (sitting meditation), the practice of Zen Buddhism, the practice of the Buddhist precepts, the practice of a bodhisattva life.
I've been practicing at San Francisco Zen Center, predominantly City Center or Beginner's Mind Temple, since December 14, 2010. How I came to practice is another story and another blog post. How my practice has been shaped over the past two years is what I'll attempt to summarize.
As with every moment in our lives, I am currently at a moment of transition, the unknown, or what I think Pema Chodron calls "groundlessness." I never stopped sitting zazen, or sitting meditation, at SFZC City Center on a regular basis since the first day I walked into the zendo, or meditation hall. I've noticed that the sitting, although sometimes frustrating, sometimes restless, sometimes fun, sometimes painful, the sitting has helped me relax by calming me, grounding me, giving me space to look at all sides of things (or at least more than my one-sided view), and allowing me time to breathe. I've found it an invaluable practice for my externally busy life (running my own business, living with roommates, romantic relationships, social relationships, family relationships, making art) as well as my internally busy life (monkey mind, the endless stories about everything my mind creates, the judgements I have on myself and others, my anxieties and my depressions). I really enjoy sitting! I don't know exactly why I keep coming back to the zendo, why I keep coming back to my cushion. I just do, and it has become a part of my schedule and practice.
Along with sitting, and especially if one develops a regular practice of sitting, the Zen Center offers and suggests meeting with a teacher for practice discussions. I asked T to be my teacher in February 2011. We continually meet on a regular basis to discuss techniques to sitting and practice, what emotions and issues might be coming up from sitting and practice, how sitting and practice influences or shows up in my day to day life, and anything and everything having to do with Zen Center and practice. Along with sitting practice, there is an ethical side to Zen Buddhism and all branches of Buddhism. The general practice is to be a bodhisattva. A bodhisattva dedicates his/her life to unconditional compassion and love with the vow to save all beings. Although this vow and dedication is virtually impossible, a bodhisattva will whole-heartedly practice compassion, love, and saving all beings. There are guidelines to help us navigate wise choices, delineated in the 16 Bodhisattva Precepts. Lay practitioners (those not traveling down the priest ordinate path, although both lay practitioners and priest ordinates have similar ceremonies for this) can choose to publicly demonstrate their commitment to the precepts through a ceremony called Jukai ("coming home"). Along with deep study of the precepts, someone wanting to take the precepts in a Jukai ceremony must sew a small Buddha's Robe, or Rakusu. I am currently in the middle of sewing my rakusu. I have two teachers I'm working with on precepts and practice, T and P. Having two teachers is unusual and not a requirement, however in my case I wanted these two teachers.
As I've deepened my practice by following my schedule of sitting zazen and working with the precepts with practice leaders, I've also volunteered my time by working in the Zen Center kitchen, and holding various jobs that keep the zendo running smoothly and create the ceremonial space of services and formal ceremonies. Both of these types of jobs are more ways to practice and are demonstrations of how I am practicing. In the kitchen, every job is equally important, whether it's washing dishes, peeling potatoes, stirring the soup, or cooking the main dish start to finish. Not only did I notice how I interacted with others and moved around the kitchen with only functional speech, but I also felt the connection I had with the food I was working with and the sheer responsibility of caring for this food to nourish the entire community. The zendo jobs are called the Doanryo. The head of the meditation hall, or Ino, directs this cabinet-like committee. The doanryo along with the Ino are responsible for making sure everyone knows when it's time to go to the zendo, to sit, to do walking meditation (Kinhin), to leave the zendo, to go to service, to chant, what to chant, when to bow, when to do a full prostration, when to offer incense, when to end service, and when the room is empty. There is something about the way each job on doanryo flows with each other. I love the choreography of how even just a period of zazen comes together. I am honored that I get to be a part of it, and it's not even me who is ringing a bell or hitting a Han (block of wood that is hit in a rhythmic and timed fashion to call people to sitting) or leading a chant. I am just helping the bell ring, I am helping the han call everyone to the zendo, I am helping give voice to the chant. There is something about "the emptiness of the three wheels, giver, receiver, and gift," in the responsibility of doanryo that comes up for me and attracts me to this service. I currently hold regular doanryo positions of Doan (bell ringer) for Monday morning and Fukudo (hits the han) for Tuesday evening. I was also just asked (and accepted) to share the Head Doan position for the mornings. Head Doan helps the Ino make sure that the doanryo is present for their position, and if not makes sure the empty position is covered. Head Doan also helps instruct people new to doanryo who are interested in participating in doanryo. I take this position as a huge honor because I am not a resident. The morning program is usually the responsibility of the residents to oversee. A large part of my practice is consistency in practicing, so the acknowledgement of this consistency with the consideration of sharing the head doan position is validation in the consistency of my practice.
So why am I starting a blog now and why am I calling myself "little monk"? I'm days away from my 40th birthday (January 6). I'm also days away from the Green Gulch January Intensive with Reb. I am leaving for Green Gulch Farm on January 5 for three weeks of a fairly intense monastic schedule much like one would find during a practice period at Tassajara, the San Francisco Zen Center monastery. I came out of Rohatsu sesshin, a seven day silent meditation schedule that is usually at the beginning of December to coincide with the celebration of Buddha's enlightenment, or Rohatsu, with "I just want to be a monk" running through my head. My sesshin was difficult as many emotional things came up for me during that time, like the aftermath of a significant break-up, but it wasn't bad or good that these things came up, it just was what was happening and so I observed how I was dealing with it and one of the ways I was dealing with it was to fully and whole-heartedly commit myself to the schedule. Is this what being a monk is? I don't know. It felt like it was connected to my wanting to be a monk. Does being a monk mean moving into Zen Center for full residential practice? I will definitely see what it's like to live at Green Gulch Farm for the three-week intensive. I'm considering moving into City Center, but that's been an active question for me for the past two years. I'm not sure if living inside or outside dictates monk status or not. I'm hoping to explore what wanting to be a monk and being a monk is here, in this blog.
Bowing deeply and whole-heartedly,
~little monk
