Discarding the Raft When Reaching the Yonder Shore. A Zen Dialogue with Brad RadziejA Story by Lucian Dantes
Lucian Dantes: I'd rather be wrong and fail on my own than being right and succeed by imitating another.
Brad Radziej: How about: transcend
"rather be".."wrong or right".."fail or
succeed".."my own or another"? Lucian Dantes: No concept offers enlightenment.
Moreover, anti-concepts or paradoxical statements like the koans, I think are more efficient than any logical argumentation. Of
course, if you are ready for this kind of message, because there are so many
paths. There is a particular path for every one of us. Even "śūnyatā" (emptiness) is such a concept. The flower sermon is also a reference, a symbol, but perhaps closer to the reality to which it points, closer than a word. Words are very imperfect vehicles for the truth, maybe because they are very recent acquisitions of our minds. A sakura (Japanese cherry-blossom) is closer to the truth than a word. Music is closer to the truth than any intelligent statement. Silence is closer to the truth than the most divine music. And this is why I enjoy listening to the music - music can prepare you for silence. Also, the sounds of nature. There is no thought there, unless you take it with you from your past Brad Radziej: Enlightenment (ultimate
realization), śūnyatā (emptiness)
themselves are merely empty concepts. As you said they're just references, as
is all conceptual thought. The concept of śūnyatā,
as well as the understanding of śūnyatā
(aha!) is empty! This is the reason for which koans are used instead of rational explanations, because they avoid
all intellectual conceptual conclusions. Lucian Dantes:Going beyond mind through the mind as the access point is wisdom. Going beyond mind in the absence of mind is brainwashing, unless you are Bodhidharma. Zen is not a path for everybody, as it requires a very particular mindset, open to paradox and already dispassionate, free, to some extent, to play with concepts and to leave them behind. My conclusion after reading, quite recently, T. Deshimaru’s book The Way of True Zen is that one can never understand what Zen is unless one is ready for it, unless he/she has arrived somehow to the same conclusions beforehand, otherwise Zen is total nonsense. All that Zen is about is destroying any labels of reality, cutting-off any escape routes to the addictive concepts and doctrines, ideologies, theologies, as they are seen all as traps and are followed only by those who are unable to cope with the sheer reality of all pervading emptiness. Master Deshimaru’ view is that one should never try to experience anything in zazen, zazen is not about ecstatic trances (and at some point he dismissed Mircea Eliade’s views expressed in “Techniques du Yoga”, with regard to the “altered states of consciousness”), zazen is about renouncing thinking and “just sitting there”, in silence. I think this kind of view, in its starkness is a very appealing way and very effective to those who are already trained for it. This is no philosophy, this is athletics. Some comments on your additional comments, which are, all, very inciting: I don’t know if you’ve read one of my articles, Thresholds of Awareness, where I concluded that Hinduism and Buddhism are just clues or pointers to the same reality: “This undefinable Consciousness in which the Buddhist thought that you're nothing (or no-thing) was projected is the same Consciousness on which the Hindu thought that you are everything (or every-thing or all things) was projected.
I’ve come to this conclusion after finding out that the Upanishadic concept of turīya is very related to the concept of “Buddha-nature”, Buddha-datu: “The forth [state of consciousness] (turīya) is not that which is conscious of the inner (subjective) world, nor that which is conscious of the outer (objective) world, nor that which is conscious of both, nor that which is a mass of consciousness. It is neither simple consciousness nor is it unconsciousness. It is unperceived, unrelated, incomprehensible, uninferable, unthinkable and indescribable. The essence of the consciousness manifesting as the self in the three states, it is the cessation of all phenomena; it is all peace, all bliss and non"dual. This is what is known as the fourth (turīya). This is ātman and this has to be realized)”(Māṇdūkya-Upaniṣad, I,7). After reading this statement about ātman, I concluded that the ātman of the Upanishads is the same with anātman (Pali: anattā) of the Buddha. So, I don’t speak of the “fresh” classical Advaita Vedānta, which begins with Gaudapada and Adi Shankara around 8th century AD, the latter being undoubtedly influenced by Mahayanist ideas, but a text significantly older. The primary intention of all these ancient sages was to drive followers’ mind beyond mind, beyond concepts. As early as 8th century BC you can find this aim clearly pursued in Brihad Aranyaka Upanishad, which tries to interpret the Vedic pantheon hermeneutically, in terms of references, thousands of years before our modern hermeneutic, phenomenology and philosophy of religion. I agree to some extent with such Zen radical methods, because rational, conceptual conclusions tend to become petrified and applied as immutable labels to very fluid realities, however, I think that paradoxical language as the koans is a way, a practice. After studying more than one religion, I came to the conclusion that there are many paths. Nor Zen nor any other spiritual path can claim for itself the right to be fully right, or The Way. As you said, śūnyatā and ultimate realization are themselves empty, but this assertion cannot be grasped by everybody, this is not a common-place view. Zen uses religious symbolization, but its system of symbols is very straightforward and spontaneous, like a samurai sword fight, based mainly on fulgurant epiphanies. Words (poetry), flowers, music, dance, tea ceremony and the like are just symbols and thereby references; the thing to be remembered is that they are more addressed to the intuitive than to the rational mind. But this was the whole idea in any primitive religion. As soon as the so-called “abstract thinking” was “discovered”, humans started the quarrels over “being”, “becoming”, “transcendent”, “apriori categories”, “God”, “trans-categorial”, “saguna” and “nirguna” Brahman and so on. Up to those times, the rhythms and natural cycles of the Cosmos were enough support for meditation. Abstract thinking and conceptualization is a necessary step in human evolution and it is obvious, from reading an old text like The Dhammapada, that the Buddha himself had got full mastery of the Upanishad language, before parting from it. I also agree that any beautiful theory is addictive and tends to strengthen one’s ego, when the referred reality is obscured by the very concept that was initially meant only as a reference. I didn’t answer fully to your question as to how and when does one know to stop medicating oneself, because I think that this is everyone’s own trial, every individual must find out how and when. I think that a very large perspective, a global view on the different religious systems of the world is very important for anyone, at least up until now it helped me very much, not to find out fresh conclusions, but new ways of expressing that which was already found. On these forums, I am in the service of the humankind; my purpose is not to satisfy my curiosity, nor to seek out something new, some new mind-stuff. I’d have enough of it for myself but still not enough in order to share with others, very different people, coming from total different cultures. Buddhism, I continue to believe, as a non-Buddhist, cannot be taught, and the flower sermon is the very evidence that one can only be taught in the sense that one can be made able to recognize that which one already knows. If teaching means “helping to discover the Buddha nature that is already in here, in everybody”, only in this sense I agree that Buddhism can be taught. Although my case is not very suggestive, because I am open to all kinds of symbols, religious or not, personally, I think I was very receptive and even enthusiastic to this sort of symbolization because I was already familiar with it. I know that the Buddha was initially very reserved and pondered for some time before deciding to teach, because, probably, he wanted to avoid the mistakes and confusion that all previous spiritual masters and teachings had had brought about, unwillingly. And as a result, statues or images of the Buddha have been missing in the first several centuries in the history of Buddhism, but then they slowly started to emerge, which is evidence that the human mind needs visual symbolization. I think they appeared because they were necessary. Of course, any clinging is a mistake but, ultimately, a man ignoring his real nature will cling to everything in order to consolidate his ego. One doesn’t need religion for that. The fact is that Buddha created a very simple teaching, an almost medical cure for ignorance. “I only teach suffering and the end of suffering”. This is true when reading such texts as The Dhammapada, which is ascribed to the Buddha himself. But when, for instance, coming across the pratītyasamutpāda (“dependend arising”) doctrine and the sophisticated concepts of linking causes and the creation and destruction of aggregates, oh! "you must have a good CPU in your head for this kind of stuff! "Do not mistake medicine for food" is true to some extent, but I think it doesn’t have to be applied radically in all cases. Music, poetry and even philosophy have their intrinsic beauty. Any living person, which I usually define as “eternity bound to space and time”, really needs this beauty, this dance of forms, as long as one abides in this human body. I know that Bodhidharma and other Zen (and non-Zen) patriarchs felt perfectly in silence, facing the wall, but this kind of practice should not be pursued unless you are perfectly fit for it. I don’t think Bodhidharma faced the wall for 9 years in order to get something, to accomplish something like enlightenment or samādhi; facing the wall was for this particular individual the most natural thing. He would have done this in a modern office, anywhere….Otherwise he would have gone crazy, this is sure. So, the urge to discard the raft once we've reached the yonder shore must be regarded in its own system of references. Silence is better than music and listening, without wanting to hear anything, this pure awareness without expectations, is even better. But we don’t need to renounce music for that. Chinese and Japanese traditional music are the best arguments to support this view, as their cyclic rhythms are specifically designed to drive one’s mind into a meditative state, they point towards the underlying, the still and empty space whence they spring. The remarkable thing about Zen is this tremendous idea of just listening, alertly, without any need to hear something, without desire, without fear. Perfect alertness and perfect alignment with the present moment. That which made out the samurai such masterly sword fighters was this ability to remain psychologically motionless, around a still center in the mind, in the middle of the fight, and to cut-off the rational mind during action. Total alertness and total focus in the present moment. Of course this means a life-long discipline, as you said. In The Last Samurai movie, I was of course impressed by the sword fighting, but I was even more impressed by the total focus with which Taka was closing the door. I remembered those scenes when you commented on the no-trace method of Shunryu Suzuki. I want to conclude with an aphorism by Eckhart Tolle: “Stillness is the only thing is this world that has no form. But then, it is not really a thing, and it is not of this world.” Thank you for this great discussion, which started from the fact that we should transcend the wrong perception that there is such a thing like successes and failures:) This discussion, which I assume also lacks any inner self and is also empty, as if we didn’t talk at all:) It has left no residual trace… But it was so instructive and insightful, eventually, wasn’t it? I thing that this dialogue is truly insightful and even intriguing and if you didn't mind, I would publish it as a “standalone” post on my blog, with a Japanese katana as a header and a sakura as a footer. What do you say?
Brad Radziej: Wow!! There is an old Zen story where the greatest
artist in the land meets with a Zen master and asks him to share his wisdom of
the ultimate truth. The master tells him, "I’ve been told that you are the
greatest artist in all the land, go now and return only when you have completed
your ultimate masterpiece. When you have done this, I will then explain to you
the ultimate truth." So he left and returned with a truly magnificent
& perfectly crafted work of art. And as soon as he offered it to the
master, the master immediately tossed it over his shoulder into the pond. http://luciandantes.blogspot.ro/2014/03/discarding-raft-when-reaching-yonder.html © 2014 Lucian Dantes |
Author
|