Posts from GREAT ZEN

So, there seems to have been a topic about Christianity, and quite a bit has been written about death in all its forms, about God and dreams, about history, about Islam, etc. – all of this has already been discussed. All of this comes from the world of sunset and decline. But I haven't seen anything from the world of the rising sun here yet. Let's talk about Zen Buddhism. I'll say right away that Zen is not a religion. The text is taken and processed by me from many books, especially from "Joshu: The Lion's Roar (On Zen Masters)." The word "Zen" comes from the Sanskrit word "dhyana." In Japan, it became known as "Zen." There is no equivalent word in English. Zen means going beyond the mind. It is not concentration, it is not contemplation: it is simply putting the mind aside in order to be able to look at the world and your own sensations without mental distortions. "A well-forged sword does not lose its golden luster." Only a person who knows that life is experience, not theory, is able to let out a lion's roar to awaken the other lions. Once, Joshu was asked: - What is the uniqueness of your school's teaching? Joshu replied: - Although the rolled-up cloth is torn, the frame still exists. Once, Joshu was asked the same question again, and he replied: - Speak louder, I can't hear you well. When the monk loudly repeated his question, Joshu said: - You are asking me about my special teaching... I know about your special teaching. Joshu was a wonderful master, capable of amazingly developing methods to awaken those who quickly fall asleep and are completely unaware of their essence. Once, Joshu was asked: - What is the uniqueness of your school? Today, such questions have become commonplace, banal; they can be asked to any philosopher, any priest, any teacher. But such a question cannot be asked to a Zen master. This is what distinguishes a Zen master; he belongs to a completely different category: in Zen, there is no teaching, so how can you ask if it is special or not? In Zen, there is a method of awakening a person, but it has no doctrine, no theology. It does not teach you anything; it simply awakens you and gives you freedom. Zen does not program you for anything (as religions do). Its function ends when you become awakened. Zen is the only way of life where there is simply nothing to teach you. Zen does what conveys the ancient root of the English word "education." To educate means "to enlighten," "to draw out" from you what is inside you. This is very similar to pulling a bucket of water out of a well. All our educational systems do exactly the opposite. To be continued...

Actually, Zen should be pronounced as Chan. Therefore, Chan Buddhism would be the correct term. However, it has very little to do with Buddhism. In general, Zen is a philosophy and a logic of the absurd. The goal is to break free from familiar patterns and start thinking outside the box. Questions like "what does the sound of one hand clapping" and "what color are the hair of a child born from a woman who has never given birth" best characterize this teaching.

Well, probably the hair color of a man who hasn't yet started a family? :rolleyes:

Actually, Zen should be pronounced as Chan. That is, Chan Buddhism would be correct. However, it has very little to do with Buddhism. In general, Zen is a philosophy and logic of the absurd. The goal is to go beyond familiar frameworks and start thinking outside the box. Questions like "what does the sound of one hand clapping" and "what color are the hair of a child of an unmarried woman" best characterize this teaching.

Chan is purely Chinese Buddhism, while Zen is Japanese.
In ancient Japan, Zen was also studied by ninjas (whose art also interests me very much).
Since verbal thinking is flawed, they studied Zen
to overcome limiting views, habits, and all stereotypes (motor, intellectual, and others), which allows one to look at the world completely differently, using figurative rather than verbal thinking.

When a Zen master and a fencing master are combined in one, a great warrior is born. A warrior who knows neither good nor evil. For him, there is only a goal and a path leading to the goal. A path that he walks with a sword in his hand. Without stopping, because he cannot be stopped. Without doubting, because he has rejected reason and found wisdom.

In general, a ninja is a person with vivid figurative thinking, not suppressed by kinesthetic (who even came up with that word?) sensations and not having restrictive, energy-draining, and giving the illusion of a "strong personality" verbal thinking that appears after training in educational institutions.

Added after 29 minutes

Well, probably, the hair color of an unbegotten man? :rolleyes:

Such questions should be answered without resorting to logic (which is powerless here anyway), but a little differently. They need to be reacted to instantly, that is, the very first thought, which has not yet been poisoned by knowledge (other people's delusions), is correct.

There was such a case:
Once, a new student came to a Zen monastery, and the abbot decided to test him by asking him just such a question:
- Show me your true face that you had even before the birth of your parents.
The student, what do you think, calmly takes off a sandal from his foot and hits the abbot on the face with that sandal.
- You are accepted, - the teacher replied.

That's how it is, quick and simple.

Added after 17 hours 39 minutes
I still don't understand the meaning of this story.
Is that so?
The Zen teacher Hakuin was considered by his neighbors to be a man living an impeccable life. A beautiful girl lived next to him, whose parents owned a grocery store.
Suddenly, the parents discovered that she was going to have a child. They were furious. The girl refused to name the father of the child, but after much persuasion, she named Hakuin. In great anger, the parents came to the teacher.
"Is that so?" - that was all he said.
After the child was born, he was brought to Hakuin. By this time, he had lost all respect from those around him, which did not bother him at all. He surrounded the child with care and warmth, took milk for the child from his neighbors, and everything he needed.
A year later, the mother still could not stand it and told her parents the truth: that the father of the child was a young man who worked at the fish market.
The girl's father and mother immediately went to Hakuin, asked him for forgiveness, apologized to him for a long time, and asked him to return the child. Hakuin readily forgave them. Giving the child back, he said only: "Is that so?"

Ryusyu, a Zen poet, wrote:

Among the countless affairs of men, nothing compares to sleep. They rush, hurrying to old age, racing west and east. If one lives in a mountain hut, sitting peacefully and sleeping, all joys will vanish by themselves, and with them, all sorrows.

You cannot steal the moon. Ryonan, a Zen master, lived a simple life in a small hut at the foot of a mountain. One evening, a thief broke into the hut and found nothing to steal. When Ryonan returned, he found the thief there. "You have traveled a long way to visit me," he said to the wanderer, "and you must not return empty-handed. Please, take my clothes as a gift." The thief was astonished. He took the clothes and quietly left. Ryonan sat naked, admiring the moon. "Poor fellow," he said thoughtfully. "I wish I could give him this beautiful moon."

Frost covers him, the wind spreads his bed. An abandoned child,

In the sky, the moon is like a tree cut down at the root. The fresh cut shines white.

A yellow leaf floats. On what shore, cicada? Will you suddenly awaken?

The willow bends and sleeps. And it seems to me that the nightingale on the branch... is its soul.

Clip-clop, my little horse. I see myself in a painting - in the expanse of summer meadows.

Suddenly, a "swish-swish" sound. A longing stirs in my soul... Bamboo in a frosty night.

The flight of butterflies awakens the quiet clearing. In the sunlight,

How the autumn wind whistles! Only then will you understand my poems, when you sigh in the field.

And in autumn, one wants to live like this butterfly: drinking quickly the dew from the chrysanthemum.

The flowers have withered. The seeds scatter, fall, as if they were tears...

A gusty wind has hidden itself in a bamboo grove and gradually subsides.

Look closely! You will see the flowers of shepherd's purse under the fence.

Oh, wake up, wake up! Become my companion, sleeping moth!

A jar for storing grain is all I have! Light, like my life

He who is attached to things
And lets them occupy his mind,
Desire arises in him,
And anger is born.
Anger, once it has arisen,
Leads to blindness,
Blindness destroys memory,
And with it, the man perishes.

Once, at the funeral of one of his monks, Joshu remarked:
"What a long procession of dead bodies following a single living person!"
The deceased was a master, and even after death, the master is more alive than you, the living. A master never dies.
He became a master through understanding that there is no death. He holds eternity in his hands. He is simply woven from immortality. You can burn his body, but you cannot burn his eternity, his immortality.

Joshu is right when he says: "Look at the strange procession! Behind one living person... - and this person lies in a coffin - a long procession of dead bodies follows."
A wise person realizes that until you fully understand the world around you, you cannot claim to be alive. You can only claim that you exist ("I am, therefore I exist"), but no more. This is not life. You have not explored the peaks of the Himalayas of your life, you have not explored the oceanic depths of your consciousness. Your roots are ignored. You don't even know that you have origins. You never provide them with nourishment.

You must remain unattached to any of your aspirations. Reach a point where everything you have tried to do is reduced to zero, and remain indifferent to it. Equanimity. This is what you must learn.

Ryusyu, a Zen poet, wrote:

Three, two, one; one, two, three -
How are you going to know the secrets of Zen?
In the spring, after the rain, on my roof, the birds try
To master new sounds;
They chirp, they twitter;

Ryusyu says:
"Whatever you do, whatever you do, you will not attain the truth. All this is just games that philosophers like to play. It is better not to get carried away with spiritual games, but simply to remain silent and observe what is happening around."
In the spring, after the rain, on my roof, the birds try... - observe these ordinary phenomena: the rain has passed, leaving behind a mist, a fragrance emanating from the earth. And the birds, bustling on the roof, - they... are trying to master new sounds: they chirp, they twitter.
Ryusyu says that you don't need to take spiritual searching so seriously. You can simply observe ordinary phenomena; observation remains observation, whether you are watching chirping birds or the chatter of your own mind. Whether you are watching the sunrise or your inner world. Learn from the small things in life one art - the art of observation.
Then begin to apply the skills you have acquired to explore your inner world.
Therefore, Zen monasteries resemble beautiful gardens with wonderful ponds, birds, large trees, dense forests, mountains... and all of this serves for zazen.

Sit under an old tree and do nothing: just observe.

The essence of Zen lies in the fact that nothing is ever fully resolved. All answers remain incomplete, giving the listener the opportunity to complete the thought themselves. They find the answer within themselves. Zen is not an answer to a question, but something greater than an answer. The Zen poet Issho wrote: Before the window a slender green bamboo sings with a rustling voice. Its feathery foliage covers my table without permission, knowing that there is no more secluded place. A Zen person is simply a meditative mind, observing what is happening around. And everywhere he sees beauty. The beauty of life is such that he wants to write about it in a book. The poor Issho lived in a hut near a bamboo grove. Falling leaves flew into his house and fell under the table. He says: "...knowing that there is no more secluded place." He wants to tell you that even trees have their own consciousness. Everything is endowed with consciousness. There are different forms of consciousness; we simply live in an ocean of consciousness. There are millions of interpretations of what is happening... therefore, we cannot accurately determine what the bamboo is doing. In the Mukta pond, two beautiful snow-white swans swim. They look so thoughtful, as if they spend the whole day in zazen... they didn't rent a bicycle, they don't need to go to the movies. They simply do nothing: they simply live, without engaging in philosophical disputes. Their behavior is very similar to the behavior of a Buddha (Buddha is an enlightened person, i.e., one who has not been swallowed by the world), they are not in a hurry, they simply enjoy life; they do not work, they do not toil, they do not strike, they are not interested in the outside world; they have nothing, pure, unblemished consciousness. But how does a person live? Our life is not as fulfilling as nature intended. We continue to indulge our desires endlessly, living in dreams, turning our life not into a spectacle, but into a farce; we want to be loved and understood, but we cannot achieve what we desire. A person plays many roles, but none of them are real. Each role is just another mask, unconsciously shaped by his environment and inclinations. This is not your life. Your life should not turn into the life of the people around you. Every day, year after year, you walk like someone's shadow. People are in such a hurry that they don't have time to live. These two swans just live, and people just rush. People count the minutes, people count the hours, because they have completely forgotten that they are eternal. After all, in 70 years of life, you need to fulfill so many desires, bring so many plans to life. There is simply no time left for life. There is no time left for anything else. All these dreams remain empty, and aspirations unattainable. People have become incredibly fast-paced, hectic, and restless. People die with empty hands. You are always rushing, hurrying, and life passes you by, because life is not in a hurry. Life is always here. You want so much, but... everything remains unfinished. There is no death, there is only eternal life. We have always been here, on this planet, in this universe in one form or another. We do not go anywhere, we simply change form. The very confidence that we have always been here on Earth and will remain here forever gives great relaxation. There is no need to rush anywhere; you can take your time, do something, devote all your attention to something... But people are so absorbed in their daily worries that they do not have time to be interested in the eternal. The whole world is wasting time. Many start playing cards and computer games or go to the movies... and when you ask them - why do they do this, they answer: "To kill time." And no one objects! What are you talking about? It is time that is killing you! Time is the fire in which we burn! You can't even grab it. Time is constantly slipping away - so quickly that you cannot see it. Time has already exhausted thousands of fools, and it will reach you too. How can you kill time? But millions of people around the world continue to kill time in every possible way, as if life was given to them only to destroy. From century to century, adding turmoil to turmoil, making all the same mistakes. These people only think they are living, because they have not learned the secrets of life. They have not learned the silence of the heart. They do not live, they simply while away their lives. Hey boatman, how much longer do I have to live, what else can I do with myself before I die? Oh, I'll go play HEROES.

It's all quite amusing, of course. In theory. But no one would dare put this into practice in everyday life. Everyone's values are too materialistic. But one day, everyone will wake up. Reason will eventually prevail, I'm sure.

How did I miss the second-to-last post? Interesting theory, but I believe that the mundane should be combined with the sublime. Self-reflection and an enhanced perception of the world are certainly important, but simpler pleasures are also necessary to experience the fullness of the world. One should enjoy their emotional states, but shouldn't forget about more material things, as they are often interconnected.

A soul crushed by the weight of knowledge. Once, a philosophy professor came to Joshu. He had many questions and quite a few intelligent answers, which he had borrowed from various writings and philosophical systems. Having climbed the mountain, he was soaked in sweat and looked tired. Joshu met him and said, "You are tired... wait a moment, I will prepare a cup of tea for you. It is not the time for tea right now; otherwise, tea would have been brought to you immediately. I will personally prepare tea especially for you. Wait a little and rest." Joshu brewed the tea, handed the professor a saucer and a cup, and began to pour tea from the teapot. He filled the cup to the brim. The professor silently watched as it seemed that even a drop more, and the tea would overflow. But he continued to wait until both the cup and the saucer were completely full. He could no longer restrain himself: "Wait! What are you doing? Not a single drop more will fit in the cup and saucer." Joshu replied: "Did you ask this question in relation to your mind? Is there room, is there emptiness, where even a single drop of tea could fit? Your mind is overflowing with thoughts. You have so many questions and so many answers! You are too well-read, you are too educated to become enlightened."

Hmm, is this just a relevant anecdote or is it somehow related to my previous post? Sorry, I'm not thinking clearly right now...

Regarding the anecdote itself:
I think Josh (by the way, who is that?) meant not exactly an overload of the mind, but an overload of perception, an excessive focus of consciousness on a rational-logical level... And the development of the brain is not relevant here...

Hmm, it's just a relevant parable.

Yeah, right :)

Specifically regarding the parable:
I think that Joshu (by the way, who is he?) meant not exactly an overload of the mind, but an overload of perception, an excessive focus of consciousness on a rational-logical level... And the development of the brain is irrelevant here...

I also think so, but... he has also grown a shell of this knowledge and looks at the world through this prism, rejecting everything else that he doesn't know.
He can no longer learn; he is dead. His thoughts have become ossified.

I think that Joshu (by the way, who is he?)

Joshu, also known as Chao-chou, was born in 778. He was a student of another famous Zen master, Nansen.

Added 5 minutes later

I believe that the base should be combined with the sublime; self-contemplation and an enhanced perception of the world are certainly important, but simpler pleasures are also necessary in order to experience the fullness of the world. One should enjoy one's emotional states, but one should not forget about more material things, and besides, they are often interconnected.

Yeah, but where does one get a sense of proportion in these base pleasures? This requires a strong will, and simple pleasures destroy the will.
Not everyone is born with this will, so people can only live a base life; it must be cultivated through asceticism and self-restraint.

I think so too, but... he has also developed a shell of this knowledge and looks at the world through this prism, rejecting everything else that he doesn't know.

- Do you mean that he takes all his thoughts, which he has been learning for many years, as an axiom? Yes, that probably also had an influence.

But by pouring tea into a saucer, IMHO, it is impossible to find out about an excess of rational judgment or an excessive conviction in one's thoughts. Although I understand, the parable is just a convention...

The point is that a person who hasn't grasped Zen is filled with thoughts that they don't even recognize, and this is due to their narrow, unenlightened thinking. Thoughts control the person, regardless of the person themselves. The person identifies with these thoughts, with the endless stream flowing through their mind. Without being able to free their mind from this stream of thoughts, it is impossible to achieve a deep understanding of the world as it is.