IF THERE is beauty, there must be ugliness; If there is right, there must be wrong. Wisdom and ignorance are complementary, And illusion and enlightenmen
IF THERE is beauty, there must be ugliness; If there is right, there must be wrong. Wisdom and ignorance are complementary, And illusion and enlightenment cannot be separated. This is an old truth, don’t think it was discovered recently. “I want this, I want that” Is nothing but foolishness. I’ll tell you a secret— “All things are impermanent!”
Verse 99 Easily seen is the fault of others, but one's own fault is difficult to see. Like chaff one winnows another's faults, but hides one's own, eve
Verse 99 Easily seen is the fault of others, but one's own fault is difficult to see. Like chaff one winnows another's faults, but hides one's own, even as a crafty fowler hides behind sham branches.
Verse 111 If a fool is associated with a wise person for an entire lifetime, that fool will perceive the truth as little as a spoon perceives the taste of soup.
Chapter 1 - Twins 1. Fore-run by mind are mental states, Ruled by mind, made of mind. If you speak or act With corrupt mind, Suffering follows you, As the wChapter 1 - Twins 1. Fore-run by mind are mental states, Ruled by mind, made of mind. If you speak or act With corrupt mind, Suffering follows you, As the wheel the foot of the ox.
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Mind precedes all mental states. Mind is their chief; they are all mind-wrought. If with an impure mind a person speaks or acts suffering follows him like the wheel that follows the foot of the ox. Translator: Acharya Buddharakkhita
Phenomena are preceded by the heart, ruled by the heart, made of the heart. If you speak or act with a corrupted heart, then suffering follows you — as the wheel of the cart, the track of the ox that pulls it. Translator: Thanissaro Bhikkhu
All that we are is the result of what we have thought: it is founded on our thoughts, it is made up of our thoughts. If a man speaks or acts with an evil thought, pain follows him, as the wheel follows the foot of the ox that draws the carriage. Translator: F. Max Müller
Mind is the forerunner of all actions. All deeds are led by the mind, created by mind. If one speaks or acts with a corrupt mind, suffering follows, As the wheel follows the hoof of an ox pulling a cart. Translator: Ananda Maitreya
Notes on translations #13. Desire, passion. Interesting distinction.
Chapter 1 - Twins 1. Mind is the forerunner of all actions. All deeds are led by theNotes on translations #13. Desire, passion. Interesting distinction.
Chapter 1 - Twins 1. Mind is the forerunner of all actions. All deeds are led by the mind, created by mind. If one speaks or acts with a corrupt mind, suffering follows, As the wheel follows the hoof of an ox pulling a cart.
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Mind precedes all mental states. Mind is their chief; they are all mind-wrought. If with an impure mind a person speaks or acts suffering follows him like the wheel that follows the foot of the ox. Translator: Acharya Buddharakkhita
Phenomena are preceded by the heart, ruled by the heart, made of the heart. If you speak or act with a corrupted heart, then suffering follows you — as the wheel of the cart, the track of the ox that pulls it. Translator: Thanissaro Bhikkhu
All that we are is the result of what we have thought: it is founded on our thoughts, it is made up of our thoughts. If a man speaks or acts with an evil thought, pain follows him, as the wheel follows the foot of the ox that draws the carriage. Translator: F. Max Müller
Fore-run by mind are mental states, Ruled by mind, made of mind. If you speak or act With corrupt mind, Suffering follows you, As the wheel the foot of the ox. Translator: Valerie J. Roebuck
All that we are is the result of what we have thought: it is founded on our thoughts, it is made up of our thoughts.
Books on Buddhism, poetry collecti
All that we are is the result of what we have thought: it is founded on our thoughts, it is made up of our thoughts.
Books on Buddhism, poetry collections, poorly written self-help books, obviously tendentious documentaries, Facebook, Tumblr, wordy posts on Instagram replete with "#freedom #love #rebirth #peace #meditation #spirituality #mindfulness #loveyourself #foundmyself", walls, T-shirts... You've read those lines before. You've read them until they sounded obvious and trite. It takes a retreat from most of that which was mentioned to find those lines somewhat meaningful again. Zen cats might not be the best choice for that, even though I read a couple of pages so far. The book contains verses taken from the Dhammapada, one of the most widely read Buddhist scriptures, lovely pictures of cats and (redundant yet not tiresome) explanations of each verse.
The following may serve as a further example: A monk once went to Gensha, and wanted to learn where the entrance to the path of truth was. Gensha aske
The following may serve as a further example: A monk once went to Gensha, and wanted to learn where the entrance to the path of truth was. Gensha asked him, “Do you hear the murmuring of the brook?” “Yes, I hear it,” answered the monk. “There is the entrance,” the master instructed him. I will be content with these few examples, which illustrate clearly the opacity of the satori experiences. - Carl Jung
Shell Nothing, nothing at all is born, dies, the shell says again and again from the depth of hollowness its body swept off by tide — so what? It sleeps i
Shell Nothing, nothing at all is born, dies, the shell says again and again from the depth of hollowness its body swept off by tide — so what? It sleeps in sand, drying in sunlight bathing in moonlight. Nothing to do with sea or anything else. Over and over it vanishes with the wave.
Taking hold, one’s astray in nothingness; Letting go, the Origin’s regained. Since the music stopped, no shadow’s touched My door: again the village moon
Taking hold, one’s astray in nothingness; Letting go, the Origin’s regained. Since the music stopped, no shadow’s touched My door: again the village moon’s above the river. —Kokai (1403-1469)
This anthology consists of four parts: Chinese poems of enlightenment and death, Poems of the Japanese Zen masters, Japanese haiku and selected poetry by Shinkichi Takahashi. Translated by Lucien Stryk and Takashi Ikemoto, this collection - which spans 1500 years - is a must-read for anyone interested in the subject since, besides fine examples of Asian poetry and Zen art, it also includes a brilliant introduction explaining the relationship between literature and Zen, the mystifying product of Buddhism and Taoism, the reigning philosophy of poets and painters for some thousand years.
Having read several ancient Chinese and Japanese poetry collections, I’ve been picturing a recluse life in the mountains as the pages turned. Poets’ casual and brief conversations with strangers on the road and their relationship with nature have been masterly portrayed. But also more ordinary things like facing bad weather. And then, slipping into a reverie caused by tedium, the brain starts to babble. A hut? I wouldn’t survive a snowstorm without a proper roof and heat. Food might be a problem also. Not being able to order a pizza? Barbaric. And exhausting. I’ll have to make amends with the idea of a (finally serious) vegetarian cuisine, making my own clothes and other things that leave me one step closer to "Hi, my name is Rain. I have my own kiln, and my dress is made out of wheat."
What’s Zen? ‘Thought,’ say masters, ‘makes a fool.’ —Shinkichi Takahashi (1901-1987)
I come up with unlikely scenarios while barely surviving a week without my phone. Not because I wanted to catch up with the world; work and studies kept looking for me and demanded an answer. Countless words per minute, dazzling images leaping out of the screen, ringtones, notifications for every field, life through a camera because memory is unreliable, skyscrapers interrupting the contemplation of the night. The time spent on a zafu seems insufficient to disconnect oneself from the noise, the concrete surroundings, the remains of the day. A certain breeding ground for the struggle between traditional duties and one unconventional breakout.
Here none think of wealth or fame, All talk of right and wrong is quelled: In autumn I rake the leaf-banked stream, In spring attend the nightingale. —Daigu (1584-1669)
And yet, that could be enough.
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April 6, 19 * Also on my blog ** Photo credit / CC *** Actual rating: 4.5 stars...more
Having thus regulated body and mind, take a breath and exhale fully. Sitting fixedly, think of not thinking. How do you think of not thinking? Nonthin
Having thus regulated body and mind, take a breath and exhale fully. Sitting fixedly, think of not thinking. How do you think of not thinking? Nonthinking.
...if you know that there isn't a target to hit, who's going to attempt to aim? This is the usual idea about giving and taking. This is people's usual
...if you know that there isn't a target to hit, who's going to attempt to aim? This is the usual idea about giving and taking. This is people's usual calculating way of behavior. However, when you do zazen, you have to let go of your calculating and dealings with others. Zazen is just the self making the self into the self. Zazen does zazen. Zazen is the throwing away of this calculating way of thinking which supposes that as long as there's an aim there must be a target to hit. You just sit in the midst of this contradiction where although you aim, you absolutely cannot perceive hitting the mark. You sit in the midst of the contradiction which is absolutely ridiculous when you think about it with your small mind.
An enlightening book. Unnecessarily repetitive, at times. I may take the "small mind" reference without feeling severely insulted but we're not ficus - we can grasp the concepts. One of them relates to the somewhat controversial thought process. I found the following passage rather reassuring.
Therefore, it's false that thoughts cease to occur to a person sitting zazen, rather it's natural that thoughts should occur. But, if a person chases after thoughts, he is thinking and no longer doing zazen. [...] Thinking of 'something' means grasping that something with thought. But during zazen we open wide the hand of thought which is trying to grasp something, and don't grasp at anything at all. This is 'letting go of thoughts.'
And this one, quite fitting.
In zazen, we neither aim at having a special mystical experience, nor do we try to gain greater enlightenment. Zazen, as true Mahayana Buddhism, is always the Self just truly being the Self.
... Within all light is darkness But explained it cannot be by darkness that one-sided is alone. In darkness there is light But, here again, by light one-... Within all light is darkness But explained it cannot be by darkness that one-sided is alone. In darkness there is light But, here again, by light one-sided it is not explained. Light goes with darkness As the sequence does of steps in walking; All things have inherent, great potentiality, Both function, rest, reside within.
The enlightened person fully accepts the reality of impermanence and unavoidability of suffering so that when it o
In relation to the First Noble Truth
The enlightened person fully accepts the reality of impermanence and unavoidability of suffering so that when it occurs they do not increase the suffering through their resistance to it. Acceptance should not be interpreted as enjoyment in a masochistic sense. The enlightened person can take immediate action to end suffering, but while it lasts, they accept the reality of it and simply allow it to be, knowing that it will pass.
"The enlightened person", how unusual around here. I have many problems with the Eightfold Path, but I am enjoying the benefits of meditation, awareness without mental chatter in the land of the impermanent.
In terms of immediate perception, when we look for things there is nothing but mind, and when we look for mind there is nothing but things. For a m
In terms of immediate perception, when we look for things there is nothing but mind, and when we look for mind there is nothing but things. For a moment we are paralyzed, because it seems that we have no basis for action, no ground under foot from which to take a jump. But this is the way it always was, and in the next moment we find ourselves as free to act, speak, and think as ever, yet in a strange and miraculous new world from which “self” and “other,” “mind” and “things” have vanished. In the words of Te-shan:
Only when you have no thing in your mind and no mind in things are you vacant and spiritual, empty and marvelous.
A detailed book that shows a thorough understanding of Zen. The language is accessible so it's not an impediment for grasping most of the concepts (which doesn't necessarily mean that anyone without an iota of knowledge about Zen will) but the exhaustive analysis might be too much, even with the beautiful poems Watts included to illustrate each idea - a break from this scholarly study. It was a struggle at times. I lost my interest at 62% and skipped Part II-3 but found myself captivated again in Part II-4, "Zen in the arts" because, as might be expected, it brims with poetry. According to Watts, the soft spot that Zen masters had for short, gnomic poems–at once laconic and direct like their answers to questions about Buddhism is naturally connected with haiku.
In Zen a man has no mind apart from what he knows and sees, and this is almost expressed by Gochiku in the haiku:
The long night; The sound of the water Says what I think.
And still more directly–
The stars on the pond; Again the winter shower Ruffles the water.
Haiku and waka poems convey perhaps more easily than painting the subtle differences between the four moods of sabi, wabi, aware, and yugen. The quiet, thrilling loneliness of sabi is obvious in
On a withered branch A crow is perched, In the autumn evening.
But it is less obvious and therefore deeper in
With the evening breeze, The water laps against The heron’s legs.
In the dark forest A berry drops: The sound of the water.
Sabi is, however, loneliness in the sense of Buddhist detachment, of seeing all things as happening “by themselves” in miraculous spontaneity. With this goes that sense of deep, illimitable quietude which descends with a long fall of snow, swallowing all sounds in layer upon layer of softness.
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