Saturday, 6 October 2012

It's My Working Hypothesis or What Happens When Folks Die? Also, My New Poetry and Haiku Blog

Recently we've been having a little discussion in my online buddhist community: "So What Happens When Folks Die?"  I like to use the image of the ocean as a metaphor for life and death and stuff like that - I'm not the only one, either; there's tons of people including Zen teachers (like my own) who use it too just because it's so easy and accessible for most people.  Unless maybe if you've never seen the ocean.  But basically we can think of ALL THAT IS - you know, LIFE/UNIVERSE/TAO/GOD/BUDDHANATURE/whatever as one big ocean, and we're the waves.  And if you look at the waves it looks like they're individual waves, but they're really just the ocean moving.  And if you look at the waves as they reach the shore, what happens?

Below was my response:

 "'(If) you think the wave reaches the shore and disappears, that is wrong. If you think no wave reaches the shore and disappears, that is also wrong. If you think the wave went back to the ocean that is also wrong. If you think there is no wave that went back to the ocean that is also wrong.' 

Did the wave disappear? If all waves are just the ocean moving, then there is no individual wave to either appear or disappear, and nothing that reaches the shore and returns to the ocean (that would imply that the wave and the ocean were separated and now they will be reunited). So to say the wave disappears upon reaching the shore, or to say that it returns to the ocean, are both wrong. But it is also wrong to say that there is no wave that appears and disappears, no wave that reaches the shore and returns to the ocean. The waves and the ocean are just 
-^-^-^-^-^-^ (I can't exactly present you the ocean here so my illustration will have to do  ).

Something like that."

So, what happens when folks die?  You ask me?  I might say something like "what happens to my fist when I open my hand?". (As an aside, I can't remember exactly where I read that one). Or simply, life and death are like our hands in gassho* . More intimate than we think: not two, not one.

And you might press me and say "do you really believe that?" TO WHICH I'll reply: "It's my working hypothesis."

*That's Japanese for putting your hands together.  Similar to the Namaste/Namaskar greeting that yogis and Indians do


I just started a new blog called Just This, The Bell's Song, and it's gonna be where I will dump all my wannabe poetry and haiku.  Why?  'Cause I decided last week I'm going to write at least one haiku a day.  So far I'm averaging roughly two or three, I think.  Think of how many I'll end up with after a year!  A book?  I don't want to say anything this early, but if I keep this up I'll end up filling a few.

Thursday, 12 April 2012

Bowing to the Buddha pointing to Buddha and saying "Buddha!"

Tuesday, April 10, 2012

My toddler woke up early this morning, came downstairs at the end of my zazen session as I was finishing chanting the Enmei Jukku Kannon Gyo. He stood in front of my laptop, and began pointing at the virtual altar repeatedly saying: "Buddha! Buddha! Buddha! Flower! Buddha! Buddha! Buddha! Flower!" (My altar is a slideshow of images of Buddha, Manjushri, Kannon, and a lotus). I bowed to my makeshift zafu, returned the pillows to the couch, turned to my son and the altar, said the Verse of Atonement, prostrated three times, said the 4 Vows, prostrated three times. 

Bowing to the Buddha who was pointing to the Buddha and saying "Buddha!"

Thursday, 29 March 2012

Kanzeon Raining

Kanzeon raining Kanzeon!
Her arms are the raindrops
Splashing everywhere

Every drop Buddha
Every drop Dharma
Every drop Sangha

Kanzeon raining Kanzeon!
The street children  swimming in the puddles: 

Every splash Buddha
Every splash Dharma
Every splash Sangha

Kanzeon raining Kanzeon!
Her arms are the raindrops
Splashing everywhere.

March 29, 2012

Saturday, 3 March 2012

Constructing and tearing down your hermitage

The following was originally posted on Treeleaf.  Many thanks and deep bows to Shinkai for giving me permission to post it here.

"Home is where the heart is"

I would say, however, "Heart is where the home is, and the home is everywhere"

Poets, sages, & monks in ancient times made their hermitages on the sides of mountains, in forests, in jungles. Your hermitage has already sprung up around you. It is apartment walls so thin you can hear your neighbors shouting. It is a backyard fence with dogs barking on the other side. Your hermitage is the bus you ride to work in the morning, rolling across the earth. You have no control over it, you can't protect it from the weather or the heat, but you can appreciate it.

It is yours, this hermitage, this life. Kodo says "everyone is homeless." Where does your heart go?

Gassho and thank you for being here.

Tuesday, 28 February 2012

Gone and not gone...

Gone and not gone:
Like a wave that reached the shore.

Where did the wave go?
Did it go anywhere at all?

The ocean moves and waves are born
Life dances and we are danced into being.

You are dancing still.

February 28, 2012
(In memory of the bodhisattvas known as Mom and Dad)

The ocean is in every drop...

The ocean is in every drop - the moon as well

Bowing, I find my father
Chanting, I hold my mother
Sitting, the world is my chair

Then the bell rings:




Hands palm to palm,
Universe bows to universe
Buddha gets up and walks.

February 28, 2012

Monday, 27 February 2012

A Day In The Life*

*Originally posted on Treeleaf as part of the "A day in the life" discussion thread.

Online Zen practice: sitting with the virtual timer

Yesterday was only the fourth time I ever participated in a zazenkai - and only the second time with Treeleaf. I got up at 5:30 to prepare for joining the zazenkai. Clicked PLAY several times to no avail. So I decided to do the whole thing without the video. The prostrations forced me to be mindful (than I usually am) of timing my breaths while chanting the Heart Sutra - those prostrations are a potential workout! Great for the legs. Anyway, I fumbled my way through the dedication of merit. Then I sat seiza on my wife's Minnie Mouse footstool. I figured I'd be sitting for longer than usual so I opted for seiza on the footstool instead of my usual burmese on the throw pillow. Really maddening zazen :x . Couldn't resist sneaking  a few glances at the clock:oops:.  Thoughts like "when is the g##dd@mn bell gonna ring?!" :x kept popping up as I felt my legs go to sleep. I swear if they were people they'd be snoring loudly and drooling. :lol: 

My personal virtual altar: a series of pictures played in a slideshow, constantly transforming: Buddha, Manjushri, Kannon, a lotus flower.
The bell sounded for the last time and I put my hands together with a sigh of relief. Part of me wanted to throw my hands up and say "YES!" But I managed to maintain my composure as befits a student of the Enlightened Way :roll: and settled instead for a bow. Very slowly got up with a lot of groaning as my legs started to wake up and complain. Turned around, recited the Verse of Atonement and Bodhisattva Vows just as my son made his way downstairs and stared curiously at his "Dada".  So much for the zazenkai. 

As for the rest of the day:

Made breakfast. Went through the usual chores. My wife and I decided to bring our son to the mall, which had an indoor playground. We got there and he dashed straight to the bookstore hoping he could convince us to buy him a new Thomas the Tank Engine book. Spent some time there but finally brought him out despite his protests. He soon forgot it as he realized we were bringing him to the playground. Less than a minute later, I was telling him to apologize for pushing a smaller kid out of the way and he was refusing. Finally I said, "You say 'sorry' or we're going home right now!" We went home of course.

Later in the house I scolded him again - this time using my patented REALLY SCARY DEMON-DEFEATING DADA VOICE™ :evil: - for hitting us repeatedly with a hard wooden building block. Shifted to gentle Kannon mode after a few minutes.

I come from a somewhat well-to-do and prominent family, and grew up in a huge compound that consisted of 3 houses (my brother's, sister's, and my parents') and a large multi-purpose open-air pavilion for common use. My wife and I stay in a house outside the compound, but ever since my parents died, we've been regularly eating meals together with my siblings, nephews and nieces in the pavilion. It's our common area. I often joke that we ought to name the place Switzerland. Anyway, that's where we had our lunch.

I play in a band led by my brother's life partner. We were booked to perform in a music festival back to back with another band in a nearby city. The city of Tagum was kind enough to lend us a bus, which arrived at 1 pm. We said our goodbyes to the family, got our stuff and boarded the bus with the rest of the band. We picked up the second band and traveled to Tagum. Got there around 3, set up our instruments and waited. 
The set-up
We couldn't do the soundcheck immediately because there was an ongoing program in the performance area so we had to wait until that was done. I walked around taking pictures. 
Tagum City Hall

Me backstage about to go out and perform
The new and still unfinished city hall (which was the performance venue) is HUUUUUGE! Apparently the local government decided they wanted all the government offices in one place, unlike in Davao City where City Hall, Bureau of Immigration, Hall of Justice, etc. are all over the city. 

Finally it was showtime. 

We played for about an hour, dismantled and packed up our equipment, and waited for the second band to finish. There was a tent city outside with booths selling food and drinks so I headed there and treated myself to beer (just two!).

The second band finished and packed up, then we all went home to Davao City. I arrived in my house past two in the morning. It was raining. I tiptoed silently upstairs, took a shower, brushed my teeth, and went to bed. I woke up this morning past seven (usually I wake up around 5:30), got up, went downstairs. A few minutes later and I was bowing to my altar.

I chanted the Heart Sutra: "Kan ji zai bo satsu jin ma ka han nya ha ra mi ta ji..."

Hands together.  I bowed.  Sat down.

The bell rang. Once. Twice. A third time: 

Hands together.  Bowed.

I sat.  Legs in Burmese position, hands in Cosmic Mudra.  I sat.

Thoughts coming and going, eyelids drooping.  I sat.  

Mind wandering, coming back.  Wandering again. Coming back again.  I sat.  

Discomfort in the hips.  I sat.

Impatience ripping through me.  I sat. 

I sat zazen.  Zazen sat me.  Who was this "I"?  Just the sitting.  Just Zazen.

Sound of the bell. Once. A second time:

Hands together, I bowed.  I stood up and bowed to my cushion.  I turned around.  Then:

"Kanzeon namu butsu..."

I bowed to the altar just as my wife came down the stairs.  We greeted each other with a kiss and embrace, chatted briefly.  She headed to the kitchen.  I returned my focus to my altar and finish with the Four Vows of the Bodhisattva:

"To save all sentient beings though beings numberless
To transform all delusions though delusions inexhaustible
To perceive reality though reality is boundless
To attain the enlightened way, a way non-attainable."

Life is our temple!