- .. . 1925 , · 4 · 2012–13 7 , 14607 Address service requested Zen Bow 1 · 2013 Zen Bow Training & Practice The subscription rate is as follows : Four issues ight issues Residential Zen training (of any length) U.S. : $20.00 $40.00 offers a chance to immerse yourself in a dis- Foreign : $30.00 $60.00 ciplined environment free from the normal Please send checks and your current address responsibilities of daily life. Readers are in- to : vited to share their experience with training, either here at the Rochester Zen Center or Zen Bow Subscriptions Desk elsewhere. What did you learn, and what did Rochester Zen Center you unlearn? How has your life changed as 7 Arnold Park a result? Submission deadline: April 15, 2013. Rochester, NY 14607 lease ote : If you are moving, the Postal Ser- 0c- vice charges us for each piece of mail sent to your old address, whether you have left a for- 2 · 2013 warding address or not. So, if you change your Seeing Through Racism address, please let us know as soon as possi- ble. Send your address corrections to the Zen Submissions of articles and images may be Bow Subscriptions Desk at the above address submitted to the editors at [email protected]. or call (585) 473–9180. Zen Bow : Coming Out As a Buddhist · 4 · 2012–13 Name ? Address ? DOB ? Religion ? by Brenda Reeb 3 Not Proud To Be Buddhist by Bryan Hoffman 4 Got Lucky by David Pascale 7 A Zen Buddhist Among Pagans, Christians, and Jews (Oh My !) by Lee London 9 The Kimono Opens (or Taking the Wraps Off) by Colleen O’Brien 12 Inadvertent Coming Out by Pete Beattie 13 Long and Winding Road by Gretchen Targee 15 Zen or No Zen ? by Allen Broadman 16 From Indra’s Net Sangha Entertainment Night 2013 · Website Media Updates 18 ¦ §¨©ª«¬ © 2013 ¦« ¯¬ ° ¦ ¬ ¦ - ²©¬ ¯ : Donna Kowal & Brenda Reeb O © ´ª ²©¬ : Tom Kowal ¦ : Tom Kowal § µ ´²©ª :Kathryn Argetsinger O John Pulleyn Amaury Cruz Name ? Address ? DOB ? Religion ? In 1992 I cut my finger while chopping cauli- Religion ? ‘What ?’ I said. flower for dinner. I needed stiches, so I took the ‘What is your religion ?’ he repeats. He looks bus from my apartment to the emergency room up expectantly. I had broken the rhythm of our at a nearby hospital. Back in the days before exchange. Urgent Care centers, the was the place to go At first surprised, I quickly realized the rele- if you pondered the need for stitches after 8 p.m. vancy of the question. I was in a hospital named It was a cold dark night in winter. Bright lights St. Elizabeth and I had been raised Catholic. and a sense of trauma greeted me at the door. If I died here, from some awful infection from I sat in the Intake chair, taking it all in. The my cauliflower cut, what about my soul ? Last attendant quizzed me for information. Rights, in other words. The religion question Insurance card ? Check. put my soul on the line. Name ? ‘Brenda Reeb.’ A couple decades of Catholic indoctrination Spell it please. ‘R–e–e–b.’ kicked in. Without Last Rites I would burn in Address ? ‘15 Hunnewell.’ Hell. Was I prepared to face Hell ? Not to say Spell it please. ‘H–u–n–n–e–w–e–l–l.’ ‘Catholic’ felt like renouncing my family. I was Date of birth ? ‘March 30, 1964.’ sitting zazen fairly regularly, but I hadn’t called 3 it Buddhism yet. I had not even called myself A couple of years of steady zazen kicked in. I ‘ formerly Catholic.’ I knew I was hooked on za- paused another split second. ‘Buddhist,’ I said, zen, but I had not set out to discard Catholi- ‘I’ll say Buddhist.’ And with that I cast my soul’s cism. lot. It felt pretty good. Frankly, no one had asked until now. He looks back at the form. Studies it. Looks Could I turn down this offer of salvation, my at me again. ‘We don’t have that. I’ll check opportunity for Last Rites ? Could I say, ‘No “ Other.’ ” thanks, I’ve found something else’ ? Make that, ‘No thanks, Jesus. I’ve found something else. Brenda Reeb lives in Rochester and has been an Sorry about the cross thing.’ Catholic children RZC member since 1987. are not taught about Something Else. Burn in Hell or angel’s wings are your choices. And guilt is your posture. Not Proud To Be Buddhist I was proud to be Catholic. 0c- Stacking logs with Dad. We breathe steam into At church each morning I wonder if the priest cold December air. sees me. ‘You could be a priest, you know.’ I have trouble Does Monsignor know I’ve been here every lifting a log. morning since the school year began ? Does he realize that I’m the only one in the entire school Dad grabs it before it falls to the ground—I was who goes to mass every day ? As I receive Holy afraid it might hit my foot. Communion, I imagine God inhabiting my body, ‘I don’t want to be a priest, Dad.’ cleansing it of impurities. I think about ‘unclean’ ‘No ?’ He hands me another log from the wheel- people, and I’m grateful I’m not one of them. barrow. Later, as we leave church, a stooped, elderly I place it on the pile. woman says to my mother, ‘He’s like an angel.’ ‘No … I want to be the Pope.’ I don’t smile—this When I think about the Jewish kids and the Pres- is too serious. byterian kids—all non-Catholic kids—I reflect with sadness that they’ll go to hell when they die. Dad doesn’t smile either, but looks at me, ‘Of I worry about them, but I’m mostly proud of my course you can.’ own solid faith—faith that has earned me a seat Then, as he hands me a large log, ‘You should on the Heaven Express. be Pope.’ 0c- As we take off our boots in the basement, Mom folds laundry at a table. The pride I felt as a child was rooted in a desire Dad tousles my hair and says to Mom, ‘Bryan’s to be a good person, though I now see myself going to be Pope.’ as having been misguided and arrogant. As a ‘You would be a good Pope,’ Mom says as she Catholic, I believed everyone needed that brand folds a pair of my pants fresh from the dryer. of religion—that it was the cure for all ailments. 4 Tom Kowal Yet, over time, this arrogance gave way to a what another person needs ? I was offering one- genuine desire to help others. Catholicism gave size-fits-all solutions because I thought I knew way to self-helpism. I really, really wanted to better than others. I now realize this created an help people. So much so that I would evangelize apparent wall between me and the folks in my about all sorts of things : ‘If you have heartburn, life. I wasn’t really listening to people. you should really be taking ginger root daily ; it When I began practicing Zen Buddhism, the helps with motion sickness too.’ ‘You can cure tide of the old Catholic pride came rushing in. anxiety by practicing qigong ! Have you tried I wondered what the teacher thought as I sat acupuncture ? That works too !’ ‘Why are you after formal rounds during sesshin. I hoped the dating that person, he’s clearly no good for you. monitors saw me as I sat still as a rock. I had Find someone who makes you happier.’ ‘Does Zen pride. After attending sesshin, I would re- that contain partially hydrogenated oil ? That turn to the ‘real world’ and quietly judge people. stuff will kill you !’ Instead of thinking they were all lost souls who I started to sound like a walking self-help in- would burn in eternal hellfire, I saw non-Bud- fomercial. dhists as victims of their own desires. I pitied The problem ? I was somewhat hypocritical. them for allowing themselves to become en- I suffered from heartburn, and gingerroot only meshed in the world of things. I began urging sometimes helped. I was anxious and felt only close friends and family members to meditate. modest relief through qigong and acupuncture. The problem ? Same as before. I couldn’t see The main problem ? How can anyone truly know past my own inflated ego. Instead of noticing 5 my own flaws, I looked for flaws in others. I now Catholicism, and science. Zen fits well with his see that I avoided the icky task of examining my own view of life and the universe. He’s clearly own shortcomings. proud of me. Sit long enough, and the ego gradually wears ‘Have you thought about becoming a teacher or away. This is the greatest gift of Zen practice. leader—what are they called in Zen ?’ There is really no room for ego when sitting If he only knew how many sesshins I sat white- still, absorbed in the practice. And when the ego knuckled as I confronted inner demons. Demon- drops away, our notions of what others need drop slaying is a hard business. There’s nothing glam- away. (In any event, what we think others need orous about it. There’s no more room for pride is often not what they actually need.) Don’t be in Zen practice than there is in cleaning a grimy fooled : this is not a blissful state—not initially, toilet.