Water Wheel Being One with All Buddhas, I Turn the Water Wheel of Compassion

Water Wheel Being one with all Buddhas, I turn the water wheel of compassion. — Gate of Sweet Nectar When You Are Lost by Wendy Egyoku Nakao Lost pondered the severity of Stand still. The trees ahead and bushes impermanence. beside you Are not lost. Wherever you are is called Here. I thought of Zen Master And you must treat it as a powerful Sengai’s striking ink painting stranger. of Kanzeon, the Bodhisattva Must ask permission to know it and be known. of Compassion. She sits in The forest breathes. Listen. It answers. a forest beside a river under I have made this place around you. a bright moon. Sengai’s If you leave it you may come back again, saying Here. inscription reads: “The clear No two trees are the same to Raven. refreshing moon of Bodhi- No two branches are the same to Wren. sattvahood shines playfully in If what a tree or a bush does is lost on you, the sky of absolute empti- You are surely lost. Stand still. The forest knows ness. When the mind-water Where you are. You must let it fi nd you. of ordinary beings is pure, enlightenment refl ects itself The poem Lost is a retelling by the poet David Wag- on it. On the bank of Nami- oner of a Pacifi c Northwest Native American poem.* This kake, with my sleeves soaked poem is said to be the response by a Native American in tears, I sit deeply absorbed Elder to a youth who asks, “What do I do when I become in contemplation on the sor- lost in the forest?” rows of human life.” Kanzeon by Sengai Who among us has not felt lost at some time? As con- The sorrows of this life temporary city dwellers, our version of the question may seem to permeate Lost, a poem that is both mysterious and be, “What do I do when I don’t know who I am? When I practical. Refl ecting on this poem, the poet David Whyte cannot fi nd myself? When I feel so utterly directionless?” asks, “Who is this ‘I’ that is lost? Is the ‘I’ that is lost the Such questions can surface not just in our youth, but also same ‘I’ that is found?” These questions appear to arise in mid-life or old age, or when illness or life-altering cir- from our essential being as we surrender to the powerful cumstances fi nd us. (Continued on page 2) This poem has had a place on my refrigerator for INSIDE THIS ISSUE many years. When I learned of Robin Williams’ suicide, 3 Is That So? by Sensei Merle the profound silent stillness of this poem drew me again Kodo Boyd to its spot. I recalled the suicide of my own father, the 5 The Zen Peacemaker Rule by conversations with a Sangha member who had considered Roshi Egyoku Nakao suicide, and now of this familiar stranger, Robin Williams. 6 Sangha Celebration I did not ask, “Why did Robin Williams commit suicide?” 8 Getting to Know Lilly by Burt Instead I felt pulled by a deep Not-Knowing silence and Wetanson * David Wagoner, Who Shall Be the Sun?, Indiana University 12 Sangha Rites of Passage Press, 1978. Zen Center of Los Angeles JUL / AUG / SEP 2014 Great Dragon Mountain / Buddha Essence Temple 2579 Buddhist Era Vol. 15 No. 3 BUDDHA WHEN YOU ARE LOST (Continued from page 1) urge to know ourselves in the deepest possible way. buddha; it is the heart of Bearing Witness. I read recently We surrender to the unbinding of a sense of incomplete- an obituary for Helen Bamber, 89, a lifelong activist for ness. The trees ahead and bushes beside you are not lost. The torture and trauma survivors. Raised by her father, a Ho- poem expresses an implicit assurance that we will fi nd locaust survivor, she received a steady stream of unfi ltered release in that which is not lost. holocaust stories from childhood and became, for 70 consecutive years, a key fi gure in the care of Holocaust Stand still. The Elder’s medicine is simple and direct. and trauma survivors. Her obituary noted: “Bamber had This life, in all of its complexity and extremes of suffer- no formal training in psychology or social work, but she ing and joy, demands attention, a great attention. One day, was brilliant at listening. She understood that recovery ... a visitor asked Zen Master Ikkyu, “Will you please write begins with someone willing to be a witness to [another’s a saying of the highest wisdom for me?” Ikkyu dipped suffering].”* his brush into the inkwell and wrote, “Attention.” “Is that all?” asked the visitor. Ikkyu wrote, “Attention, Attention.” Being found begins with a fi nely honed capacity to “Well,” said the visitor, “I really don’t see much depth in listen deeply to ourselves and to others. Our process what you have written. Can you write more?” Then Ik- of recovering our fundamental wholeness needs to be kyu wrote three times, “Attention, Attention, Attention.” witnessed, and we in turn, need to be a true witness to the The exasperated visitor demanded, “What does the word process of others. Zen practice is being willing to let our- ‘Attention’ mean anyway?” Zen Master Ikkyu responded selves be found in both the presence of another’s suffering kindly, “Attention means attention.” and in our own suffering, too. We learn to listen deeply – to swallow and digest with our entire body – because preset, mind-made answers do not suffi ce. When we are “Is the ‘I’ that is lost the same ‘I’ that is lost, the forest responds, “I have made this place around you. If found?” –David Whyte you leave it, you may come back again by saying Here.” The Elder’s instruction implies that the answer to the A powerful sense of unity, of wholeness, fi nds us question “What do I do when I become lost?” can be lived when we stand still in great attention. This “me, mine” only Here, wherever you are, whoever you are, in whatever bundle of sensations, feelings, perceptions, consciousness, way is true for you. Only you yourself can know how this and form, moves from feeling dispersed to focusing itself question resonates in your own being. You and I, right as attention, as unity. Wherever you are is called Here. Here, here, now, can stand still with a great attention, listening we stand at the threshold of the sweep of human life. deeply to the very life that is pulsating through us. We stand face-to-face with good and bad, hot and cold, sadness and joy, life and death – all the so-called oppos- There are no easy answers to the question “What ing dualities that bind us in a sense of incompleteness. do I do when I become lost in the forest?” There are no The sweep of human life is not lost to us Here. This is quick fi xes for the end of suffering. Patience and perse- Zen practice: to know the scope of human conditions, to verance are our guideposts. There is no pause button for experience suffering and joy, to know who is lost and who impermanence. The immensity of this life – the deeply is found. felt mystery – cannot fi t into our limited and incomplete notions of ‘me, mine.’ Therefore, even the mere raising of The forest is full of wondrous life, unknown eyes that the question, “What do I do when I become lost?,” implies shine in the night, sounds that raise the fi ne hair on the dying. Whyte says, “The ‘I’ that asks the question will not back of our neck, and shadows that we fear may consume survive the immensity of the response.” It will not survive us. Death may be around the bend. We are engaged in an the unbinding of our incompleteness and the simultaneous ongoing struggle with the parts of ourselves that scare us. birthing into wholeness. At the same time, we long to see our totality. The totality of who we are includes the grasping, selfi sh bundle of “The forest knows where you are. You must let it fi nd you.” “me, mine,” all the multitude of facets that we must face is not a passive statement, but one alive with a liberating so that we do not wander numbly through this life as a resiliency. The instruction is clear: Stand still. Pay attention. one-dimensional and, therefore, incomplete being. Zen Listen. Only then will you know what to do. practice calls us to treat it [the totality of myself] as a powerful stranger. Must ask permission to know it and be known. *LA Times, August 30, 2014 The forest breathes. Listen. Everything is breathing, everything is being breathed. Listening is the activity of a Roshi Egyoku is ZCLA’s Abbot & Head Teacher. -2- DHARMA Is That So? by Merle Kodo Boyd I am coming to the end it. Recently, my path deeper into this practice has been of a summer sabbatical. This through refl ection on kshanti paramita and virya paramita, time began simply as a time the balancing of intensity and patience with the twists and of rest and meandering, with turns of my life. nothing in particular to be accomplished. It has evolved I looked longer and more compassionately at how my into refl ections and practices diffi culty remained silent when I was feeling criticized, mis- that have deepened my ap- understood, or misrepresented by people with whom I was preciation for the practicality having strong differences.

Load more