Saturday, June 21, 2008

Life at Antai-ji is incredibly serious

Let's see... It has been two full rotations of our 5-day week schedule since I have posted here. Since then, we have had 6 work days, two ringkous, two one-day sesshins, and two Hosans.

After the previous one-day sesshin, we had a HUGE bonfire. During the summer at Antai-ji, there is constantly grass to be cut. We pile all of this grass in the middle of the baseball field. But grass-cutting doesn't actually just mean grass, it means that we completely clear out the ground, so many fallen branches go into this pile as well. Aside from all of the grass and tree branches we had piled up, a local guy came by and dropped off a truckload of wooden pallets, which we also added to the heap. The final result was a pile of combustible materials that was about 10 feet in height, and 20 feet in diamater. The fire was huge. I uploaded pictures to my Flickr page - http://www.flickr.com/photos/tomamundsen/sets/72157605695855513/

The previous Hosan, which happened the day after the big bonfire, I went on a hike with one of the other guys staying at Antai-ji. We hiked up a 'path,' I say path in a very loose sense of the word - it was basically a jungle with enough clearing on the floor of the forest to see which direction you should walk in. It took us about an hour to make it up to the top, where we found a fire ring and a great bird's eye view of Antai-ji. I also have some pictures from the top of the mountain in the same Flickr collection of photos. I had a good chat with the other hiker, we talked about pygmies in the Amazon, how their eyes have evolved so that they have much better vision in the forest than ours, but when they leave the forest, they have no sense of depth-perception, and can't figure out that people standing 100 feet away are not actually miniature people floating in the air right in front of them...

After Hosan, we of course had another sequence of 3 work days, a one-day sesshin, and today's Hosan. The first two work days were pretty standard. On the third day, it started to rain very heavily, so we did some wood ('maki' in Japanese) chopping. It was pretty cool to do - relieving sexual tension of living with men for almost a month, and not having seen an attractive female since I left Osaka. Actually, I've hardly seen any women at all since I've been here, aside from the 60-year old nun, and a not-so-attractive Japanese girl that came to stay for two nights. We do go to Hamasaka every couple of weeks, but there is really not that much going on there, and you don't really see too many people, let alone hot chicks. So yea, it was good to take my frustration out on a wood pile.

We actually had a good casual talk last night after sesshin about the whole women situation at Antai-ji. We had our typical post-sesshin party, this time with snacks and candy shipped from Israel (one of the monks is half Israeli, half Canadian), and of course - Japanese beer (only 1 can per person, don't think that monks are getting hammered!). It turns out that women are the number one reason why it is so difficult to dedicate your life to monasticism. At Antai-ji, there have been many monks who have left because a chick came to stay at Antai-ji, they fell in love, and off they went to get married, have kids, etcetera. Actually, there is a former Antai-ji monk coming to visit during July that did exactly that a number of years ago. He is also the subject of Docho-san's famous story about the man working at the sushi restaurant.

During ringkou before the sesshin, we got into an intense discussion about the importance of attentiveness at Antai-ji. Before, I discussed how self-sufficiency is not a means to an end, it is an end in itself, because it forces attentiveness on the monks. It turns out that I didn't fully understand this. We aren't been attentive just for the sake of the practice. We are being attentive, because the stuff we are dealing with (rice, vegetables, chicken shit, etc) really possess infinite value. You don't pay care to rinsing the rice because Zen practitioners should be attentive, you pay care to rinsing the rice, because each grain of rice is extremely important. I did not have that mindset when I came to Antai-ji, and really, I had no idea anyone else did until this talk. Now that I have a better understanding of just how important EVERYTHING is at Antai-ji, I think I will do a lot better job and make less mistakes.

These guys are really serious.

Thursday, June 12, 2008

"You create Antaiji, but you don't count for anything"

Before Docho-san left Antai-ji, he left us with a few teachings about his thoughts on life in this monastery.

His philosophy about the monastery is - "You create Antaiji, but you don't count for anything." This is broken up into two parts:

  1. You create Antaiji
  • This can obviously be viewed as being the same as the old cliche phrase - "life is what you make of it."
  • But I think we can also apply a little Buddhist philosophy (Abhidharma). When you study Abhidharma, you learn that there are two kinds of reality - material phenomena (rupa), and mental phenomena (nama). There are four types of absoulte reality - consciousness (citta), mental formations that arise with consciousness (cetasika), material form (rupa), and Nirvana (Nibbana). Abhidharma also tells us that sentient existence consists of 5 aggregates or heaps (khandhas in Pali, or skandhas in Sanskrit) - there is no underlying self or soul aside from these 5 aggregates. These five are - material form (the Rupakkhanda), feeling (the Vedanakkhandha), perception ( the Sannakkhanda), mental formations (Sankharakkhanda), and concsiousness (the Vinnanakkhandha). There is one rupa khanda - the Rupakkhanda; and there are four nama khandas - the other four. Feeling, perceptions, and mental formations are all cetasikas, so the four nama khandas are actually just cetasikas and cittas.
  • If we look at material form (the Rupakkhanda), we see that there are 6 sense organs and their objects. Eyes, ear, nose, mouth, body, and mind are the 6 sense organs, and sight (all material objects - or rupa), sounds, smell, tastes, feeling, and thoughts are the 6 objects of perception. The actual Rupakkhanda consists of the 6 sense organs AND the 6 sense objects. This means that the things we look at are part of our form aggregate. Which means that when I look at a person, that person becomes part of my material form aggregate.
  • This leads to the conclusion that we create Antai-ji, because all of the things at Antai-ji ACTUALLY ARE our material form aggregate. They are not a separate self. We are not a separate self aside from Antai-ji.
2. You count for nothing
  • This also has a two-fold meaning, one conventional and one Abhidharma.
    1. Conventional - you are just a little cog in the big picture of Antai-ji. Antai-ji has been here for decades before I arrived, and it will (probably) be here for long after I leave. What I do here does not make that much of a difference in the big picture of things.
    2. Abhidharma - as I said before, there is no self aside from the 5 aggregates. So, literally there is no self. We are not individual entities, we just think that we are, so in a way - we 'don't exist.' But of course, that shouldn't be taken literally. We don't exist only from an absoulte point of view. On the conventional level, we are human beings who have emotions, etc.
Docho-san also gave us another talk about why Antai-ji works the way that it does. He discussed how we put a lot of hard work year-round into the rice field, but if we wanted, we could just go begging in Osaka for two weeks and have enough money to buy enough rice for the entire year. This also applies to everthing else at Antai-ji - the potatoes, radishes, cucumbers, etc. However, if we didn't rely on our rice field and gardens, then we wouldn't take them too seriously. We would just think - "Oh, well if I don't plant this rice plant correctly and we have a bad harvest, we can just go to town and buy some food in order to survive." This would allow us to not take our work seriously and essentially daydream while we are working. Since we have to take our work seriously, you have to put 100% of your consciousness into the work that you do. When you plant rice, you can't be thinking about the tempura you'll be eating at lunch, or how you'd like to go drive to the town and hit on the local school girls. You really have to pay attention to everything that you do and make sure that it is done effectively.

Docho-san talks about 'artificial mindfulness,' which my teacher back in LA, Brad Warner, and his master, Nishijima-Roshi, have been harping on recently. There is a trend in Buddhism to put a great emphasis on so-called 'mindfulness.' However, when people put emphasis on being mindful, it is more like they are video-taping themselves being mindful - thinking to yourself "OK, now I am just peeling potatoes." When you do this, you are turning Buddhism into some sort of ideology, not a way of life. When mindfulness turns into thinking about the present moment, it stops being mindfulness. Real mindfulness is just paying attention to all of the details of something. When you are cooking your dinner, you shouldn't let the pot overflow when it starts to boil; you should wash your hands before you start preparing the food, and after any time you touch something dirty. If the pot overflows, or you contaminate your food, then you weren't actually paying attention - it's as simple as that.

Before I came to Antai-ji, I tried to take one thing at a time and focus on doing that 'mindfully.' I said, OK, for now, I will just try to be really mindful when I am taking showers. This worked pretty well, but I would become distracted once again when I was going to work. I would browse internet websites, check my e-mail, etc. At Antai-ji, you are essentially forced to pay attention to all details of your life. If you don't take your shoes off the right way, or if you put a personal item in the wrong place, you are going to be corrected. During sesshin, you can't go back to your room after a bathroom break, you have to use the toilet and go immediately back to the meditation hall. You can't talk during samu. All of these sorts of things create an external enrivonment where it is impossible not to pay attention to all the details of your life. Hopefully, when you leave Antai-ji, these conditions will have permeated into your brain and will be an internal environment that you can apply to everything that you do out in the world of householders. Will I be able to live up to that challenge? I don't know.

The important thing is paying attention to the details. This is the teaching of the Buddha. Most of the original Buddhist meditations are simply paying attention to detail. You just sit down and watch your body, or your mind. If you think about driving to work, you say to yourself 'I am thinking about driving to work. If your leg starts to hurt, you say to yourself - 'my leg hurts' or possibly just 'pain.'

The point to this is to notice how our reality simply consists of the 5 aggregates, which arise due to causes and conditions. The Buddha taught that the 5 aggregates are the world, and the 5 aggregates are suffering. There are no 5 aggregates outside of suffering, and there is no suffering outside of the aggregates. In fact, if you carefully read my brief introduction to Abhidharma, you'll have noticed that the only type of reality aside from the aggregates is Nirvana. The more familiar we become with the 5 aggregates, and their inherent empty self-nature (due to the fact that they only arise because of the presence of particular causes and conditions), we can actually put an end to the aggregates (if we are practicing Nikaya Buddhism). But in Mahayana Buddhism (which Zen belongs to), we only learn the emptiness of the aggregates, we don't actually put them to an end. In fact, we commit ourselves to continually re-appropriate these aggregates throughout many, many lifetimes. The Mahayana path is to learn emptiness, and be able to teach it to others, so that all sentient beings will be freed from suffering (the aggregates).

My 20 Girlfriends

So, I guess I haven't written on here since the last sesshin. A lot has happened since then, and Antai-ji has an entirely different feel.

By breakfast time on the day after sesshin, about 10 people had left. The abbot and his family went to Europe to lead some retreats and do some travelling. Most of the Germans also went back home. Now, there are only 5 people living at Antai-ji. Of course, I am here, there is a Japanese monk (committed to stay for 3 years), a Canadian monk (who has been here for a year) who leaves in mid-July, an Australian lay practitioner, and an Austrian lay practitioner who has recently committed to stay at Antai-ji for the next 3 years.

After sesshin, we had two free days in a row - it was almost like having a real weekend. The first free day was Oo-Hosan, which means that you have absolutely no obligations, but there is no guaranteed food. I wound up going down to Hamasaka where I got a haircut and ate Ramen for breakfast and lunch. The second free day was a normal Hosan, which means that everyone has to clean out the Hondo, and you are required to attend the two meals. Hosan is called a free day, but really, it is not quite so free.

After the two free days, we had three days of work. The samu (work) schedule has been reduced, and now we finish work at 12, which is really nice. So, a normal samu day consists of 4 hours of meditation, 3.5 hours of work, three meals, snack break (between breakfast and lunch), and a tea meeting. This leaves us with about 4 hours of free time per day, which is great. I have taken a few 1-hour naps during that free time, which almost make up for the fact that we wake up at 3:45.

Yesterday we had a One-Day sesshin. This means that there is 10 hours of meditation (broken into two 5-hour blocks), two meals, and free time after the second meal which ends around 3:45 PM. So, although the day begins out pretty rough, you wind up having most of the afternoon and the entire evening to yourself. At the end of the day, we watched a little bit of a Bob Dylan documentary and The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou while drinking a little bit of Asahi beer and some Japanese-style snacks. The Japanese guy didn't understand anything that was going on, so he wandered off after the first 45 minutes or so.

Today is Hosan. As I already said, Hosan is not much of a free day, and I actually wound up working about the same amount that I do on a normal work day. I slept in until 6 - yayyy!!! And had to be down in the kitchen by 7 in order to help prepare breakfast. I am tenzo-in-training, so I have to watch what the cook is doing, and in a few days, I will have the responsibility of cooking for everyone. This is actually really exciting, because in a traditional monastery the tenzo is a highly revered position and only given to a person who has been living at the monastery for many years. In other words, it is a very senior position. But here at Antai-ji, we don't have too many people, so everyone will assume this responsibility on a rotating basis.

After breakfast, I went with Daisen-san (the Japanese monk) to let the chickens out of their 'barn' for a little stress relief. Although they left the barn, they didn't stray too far, which surprised me. After we let them wander around and eat the bushes for about 20 minutes, we put them back and I began to clean out their bedding. Their old bedding was essentially wood chips and had started to get very soggy with chicken shit - so it was time to replace it. I removed about 15 large bushels of bedding and put them in the compost heap. The compost heap is pretty far away from the chicken barn, so I got to drive one of our trucks back and forth - my first time driving a car with the steering wheel on the right side of the vehicle. After I removed all of the old bedding, I drove out to the baseball field and collected grass cuttings into the same bushels. I put all of this new bedding in the chicken barn to make the chickens happy.

I am taking good care of my 20 girlfriends. ;)

Friday, June 6, 2008

June 4th

During the second session of zazen during the second 5 hour block (the 7th hour of zazen of the day, from 11-12), Docho-san screamed 'DOOOOOONNNNNTTTTTT MMMMMMOOOOOOOOOOVVVVVVEEEEEE'. At first, I had no idea what had happened. I thought maybe a tree fell on the Hondo, or everyone was starting some chant. Then after a few seconds, my mind kicked in - 'oh, that was Docho-san, he just yelled at us about not moving.'

He wasn't yelling at me. I hadn't moved a muscle for about 15 minutes by the time he had screamed that. I saw someone on the right side of the Hondo sort of adjust themselves after he said this, so maybe it was that person, I don't know.

I can now see why Brad said, 'Oh... you're doing Antai-ji. They're a bunch of Nazis there.'

June 2nd

11:01 AM
Sesshin is not as bad as everyone is making it out to be. Although, maybe that is because I am half-asleep for most of the zazen. I try to stay awake in the morning, but it is practically impossible. Four hours is a long time to be sitting, especially when you just woke up at 3:45 after six hours of sleep. And to think that it will always be 5 hours from now on, since today is my last day as assistant tenzo....

At breakfast this morning, I finally got the right amount of food. Daisen cooked up some extra okayu (rice gruel). It was very nice with some brown sugar. After the meal, Docho-san announced 'we are having a problem,' - immediately my throat closed up, thinking that it was something that I did wrong, either closing my eyes during morning zazen, or having that cup of coffee while setting up breakfast yesterday, to which, Daisen-san said, 'ummmm... ummmm... This is a leetle beet nawt good-to.' But Docho-san continued, 'with insects in the rice field. We will skip zazen from 10:15-11 and meet in front of the blue barn.'

So, I took a 15 minute nap, grabbed some coffee, and we went out to the rice field with sticks in hand. We worked our way through the field, brushing each rice plant so that the bugs would fall off. They will keep climbing up, but we will just keep doing that, becausewe don't kill living beings .After working in the rice field for about 30 minutes, Docho-san announced that we could take a shower. This was really nice, since I thought that I wouldn't get that change. All in all, we missed 1 session of zazen. Now it's time to get back to the cushion.

June 1st

9:40 AM
Today is the first day of the big sesshin. Luckily, I am the assistant Tenzo, so I get to skip out on 2 hours of sitting, thus leaving me with a paltry 13 hours of zazen.

I woke up this morning at 3:25 AM, because my roommate was jikido. During the first hour session of zazen, I was so tired that I kept my eyes closed practically the entire time, I even felt my head droop once. During the second hour, I was able to open my eyes a little more, maybe for 20 out of the 45 minutes. By the third and fourth sessions, I was more or less awake.

I am beginning to get a good grip on my mind. I can see its plasticity and fundamental groundless nature. In this sesshin, there is nothing to hold on to. Aside from having to help in the kitchen, there is basically nothing going on in my life. Actually, that is how it always is - even when you are incredibly busy. There is actually nothing happening, it's just that your mind is distracted. It is very clear that this mind is all of reality, and that water and chicken shit are this mind. Some people never pay attention to that fact and think that external objects entertain them. They are simply fooled by their own mind, which drags them around like a dog on a leash. The worst thing is that we don't even know it! And of course I am guilty of this as well.

Buddhism is simply the study and practice of taming the mind. I think that Antai-ji is a very good place to do that.

3:52 PM
I am completely exhausted. I feel like I could fall asleep right now. We didn't have a lot of food for breakfast and I was really weak when I came into help Daisen as tenzo at 2 PM. Luckily, he screwed up making a (large) egg roll and gave it to me. It's weird how things work out. Daisen is such a nice guy - I think he somehow knew that I needed it. When we went into the chicken barn, he was petting the chickens like their mother.

My mind is starting to really change. I have never felt this way before, and I can't really describe it. It's like a complete lack of emotion - catharsis. But something still remains.

We had oryoki dinner, and I finally got a lot to eat, which is good because it was the second and last meal of the day. After that, I had some coffee, but that still hasn't perked me up yet. While sipping the coffee, I was just gazing at the trees and watching ants on the ground. Really, we are not that much more than ants. We have a body and desires to stay alive. Humans just try to make it more complicated than that. That's why we invent buddhas. Sesshin eliminates those complications and allows you to truly experience yourself.

Sesshin means 'to come in contact with the mind,' or something like that. It is really good to confront your mind every now and again. Check up on how happy/depressed you might be; see how easy it is to be irritated. I've found that I am a pretty happy person, pretty ordinary. I am not so easily irritated, but my mind is easily distracted.

Thursday, June 5, 2008

What is a sesshin?

So, what exactly is a Sesshin?

The word sesshin, in Japanese, means 'to come in contact with the mind' or to unify the mind. It is a time that Zen practitioners take to spend a lot of time in meditation, and/or study Dharma teachings. Talking is usually prohibited. The lightest schedule I've seen has about 7 hours of meditation, and a couple hours of lectures. The heaviest schedule I've seen, which I just went through, is 15 hours of meditation per day, and nothing else.

So, here are the basic details of the sesshin at Antai-ji, formulated by Kodo Sawaki Roshi some decades ago when Antai-ji was still located in Kyoto. No talking - this isn't the strictest rule, you can talk for important things, like if you are working with the tenzo and need to figure out how to set something up. No showering, shaving, reading, writing, looking around, etcetera.

At around 3:30 AM, the jikido starts beating this huge drum and ringing bells. It sounds like some sort of Tibetan ceremony or something... I've never heard this sort of ominous percussion from Japanese Buddhism before. Then, at 3:45, he runs down the hall, ringing a bell really loud and bastardly, abruptly waking you from your sleep. You have less than 15 minutes to wash up, and you have to be in the Hondo before 4:00 AM. On the first day of sesshin, you go in through the front door, on the rest of the days, you go through the side door. By the side door, the jikido will be standing there, bent over at 90 degrees, holding the hammer he uses to strike the bell to begin the first meditation period.

At 4:00 AM, the clock on the wall inside of the Hondo rings four chimes, and then the jikido rings the big bell outside, comes in, sits down, and rings the meditation announcement bell 3 times. You sit from 4 to 5. At 5 AM, the clock on the wall will ring (5 chimes - also, the clock happens to make some weird noise at x:50, so you always know when there is 10 minutes left) and the jikido will ring the meditation announcement bell 2 times. From 5:00 to 5:15, you do kinhin - walking meditation. This means that you hold your hands level to the ground, left hand in a fist with thumb inside, and right hand on top. You have to walk one half-step every breath, so this means you move about 3 inches every 10 seconds. You cannot make any noises while you walk, so you must make special care that your (which stick to the straw tatami mat) don't make any noise when you pick them up.

At 5:15, the jikido will walk back to his seat and ring the meditation announcement bell once. At this time, you will go back to your seat. After everyone is settled, the bell is rung 3 times and you sit until 6. This continues with 45 minutes sitting and 15 minutes walking until 9 AM. At 9AM, when the clock rings, the tenzo (from outside) hits his clappers several times, at increasing speed. After he slows down the clappers (kaishaku), he hits them 3 times slowly. In between the 3 times he hits the kaishaku, the jikido will hit a bell. This indicates that we are ready to go to eat breakfast. The abbot gets up and walks out the door, and everyone peels off one-by-one, following him to the meal room. We sit down and have breakfast, no talking. After breakfast, there is diswashing, and that is all usually done by 9:25 AM.

From 9:25 until 10:15, you have free time. This basically means that you can use the bathroom, get some coffee, wash up again. In my case, since I am maintaining the chickens, most of my break (about 20 minutes) is taken up doing that. The other down-side is that I have to clean up all of the chicken shit, and I still have to maintain the rule of not taking a shower.

From 10:15 until 3 o'clock, we have another 5 sessions, just like we did from 4 to 9. The meal is signaled and we go to eat again at 3. This lunch\dinner is our second and last meal of the day - it is usually done oryoki style, but one day it was not, because we had ramen. From 3:25-4:15, you get another free period. But again, I have to take care of the chickens.

From 4:15 until 9, there are another 5 sessions of zazen and kinhin. Then you have free time from 9 until 3:45 AM the next morning, although you shouldn't make any noise. This obviously means that it is time to sleep. With all of the washing, you get about 6 hours of sleep. At first, I thought that 6 hours would be fine since I was just meditating all day long, I wouldn't get that tired. And, it is partially true. But, it is really painful to the mind that you basically meditate, wash up, sleep, wash up, meditate. There is no real break time for your psyche. It really begins to wear you down after a few days.

The fifth day is only a 10 hour schedule. So, you finish after the second 5 hour block of zazen. At 3 o'clock, a short little ceremony is done. Some things are re-arranged in the Hondo, the Docho offers some incense on the altar, and everyone does three full prostrations. We have the second meal, and then a tea meeting. At the beginning of the tea meeting, the abbot announces (in Japanese) that the sesshin has ended.
----

I am not quite sure what to say about how the sesshin has affected me, but I do know that it has changed me. I meditated for 70 hours in the past 5 days. For the first 4 days, I meditated for 2 and 1/2 days. Obviously my mind is a little different. But it's not like I had some sort of awakening experience and now I am 'enlightened' or something like that. And I definitely wasn't expecting anything like that. In this tradition of Buddhism, enlightenment experiences are pushed aside. We are more concerned about just experiencing ordinary life. Sesshin is precisely that. You are bored to tears, your legs hurt like hell (several times per day, my legs literally felt like someone has jabbed a Bowie knife into them and held it there for a few minutes), you feel scuzzy ('scuuuuuuuuzzzayyyyyy' :P).

That is basically it. That is your life. There are many things that you do in life, but it is all just abstractions. Most of your life is lived entirely inside of your head. You are never 'in' the thing that you are doing. Sesshin helps us to be able to be 'in' the thing we're doing, because it is the most simple and yet most profound thing with the human body - sit cross legged. It is the easiest way to dissolve yourself into the universe, because there is nothing to distract you but your own thoughts. After a while, you see your thoughts as just being noise, your pain as just thoughts, and everything just drops off. No body, no mind, no dropping off.

And then, on the 5th day, you get up off of the cushion. 'This,' the abbot says, 'is when the real sesshin starts.'