I have been a fan of Jon Muth from his earlier comics days with his work on “Meltdown: Wolverine and Havoc” and the epic “Moonshadow” series.  Fantasy writer Micheal Moorcock said of Moonshadow

 ”This is an outstanding graphic tale, told at a level of literary and visual sophistication which introduced new standards and aspirations to the genre” 

Recently his storybook fiction has been equally stirring and eminently life-changing for me as both a former after-school librarian and a massive fan of zen tales and watercolors.  Rarely does the poignancy of a koan combine with an emotional exploration as well as it does in Muth’s books.

His newest book, “Zen Ghosts” follows the haiku speaking panda Stillwater and his young friends through an American Halloween.  In a fashion similar to his earlier books “Zen Shorts” and “Zen Ties”, Muth ties together Asian and Buddhist thought in a framework that is easily identifiable by children while engaging to adults with little or no interest in Asian philosophy or culture ( or like me, has a massive interest in both).  A wicker basket to be enjoyed for its utility or for the surprises held inside.

In “Zen Ghosts”, Halloween serves as the backdrop to the Wu-men koan “Senjo and her soul are separated. Which is the true soul?” which was based upon the T’ang period ghost tale where the young girl Senjo appears as sick and lifeless to her parents after they refuse her wedding to the man she loves.  The spirit of Senjo manifests into another form and runs off with her lover while her former self remains sick and listless in the house of her parents.  Eventually, Senjo is reunited with her other self as her familial ties draw her back to her father’s household.

from "Zen Shorts"

The ten fetters that bind the us to the world are (1) self-identity views, (2) uncertainty/skeptism, (3) the concious and unconcious clinging to habits & practices, (4) sensual passion, (5) irritation, (6) attachmen to form, (7) attachment to formlessness, (8) conceit, (9) restlessness, & (10) ignorance.

Oh, my lovely, lovely fetters.

We look into so many spiritual recipes to remove our fetters.  Some passed down from generation to generation and some new fusions containing different styles and cultures but they all try to explain and delineate the same thing ~ How many?  How many retreats to I need to go on to remove them?  How many minutes sitting in zazen will do?  How many blogs, Dharma talks or sesshins?  How many masters?  How. Many. Moments.

Every moment is a personal recipe.  It isn’t complex and doesn’t need to be.  The only ingredient of interest is action.  Taking one moment in meditation or mindfulness is the only quantity on which you need to focus.  One moment spent in compassion rather than judgment.

When Master Ikkyu was asked what the most profound teaching of Zen was he replied “Attention.”  When asked for more elaboration and commentary on that teaching he replied “Attention.  Attention.  Attention.  What else is there?”  The questioner grew angrier and asked “Well what is attention anyway?”

“Attention is attention” was Ikkyu’s profound, quiet reply.

A friend mentioned that the endearment I use to describe my daughter “Samsara-toddler” would be better described, in Buddhist terms, as “Fetter.”  My lovely little fetter.  This struck a strong chord as I have felt uncertain and fearful that my practice was faltering due to increased duties at work and at hime.  In reality, it is just my own clinging to outdated modes and ideas of practice (insisting on silent moment for meditation or more free time) that was holding me back ~ not my familial obligations.  Grasping at the past is a fetter and shows an ignorance of or (at very least) a lack of internalization of impermenance.  The life of a householder does not limit practice but allows my practice to change and evolve.  I can either stop practicing altogether or I can adapt my practice to the moment.  I can ignore the fire or allow it to temper this practice. Strengthen it.  Create resolve.

Attention is attention.

My lovely Fetter.

I got up early this morning to practice yoga and sit zazen until I needed to get ready for work.  While beginning my first few stretches my two-year-old walked in and asked for breakfast.  My first reaction was “There goes that. No meditation. No practice this morning.”  But it didn’t feel quite right so I prepared her breakfast and then set myself up for zazen and sat.  While a TV was blaring on one side and a (now fully awake and active) toddler on the other, I sat in zazen for 15 minutes.  The actions and noises and responsibilities were each noticed, addressed and then allowed to move on while I sat under my own personal, domestic waterfall of householder duties and distractions.

There is very little interest in inculcating Buddhist dogma into my child. But for the values that I find dear, I must create a bridge that does not exist here—a bridge to the understanding of Buddhism without ever being Buddhist. Values and concentration without dogma and secterianism.  For a child to see a practice develop is the best way to impart these morals.  To see a calm mind and compassionate actions are the flesh and bones of a little Buddha.  Stories and holidays, retreats and sesshins will create Buddhists but experiences, insights, and concentration will build Buddhas. 

Zen is experiential and the direct experience of a child seeing compassionate action, contemplation and openess in their daily lives will, with care and tenderness, build Buddhas. 

My lovely Buddha.

Issei Buddhism in the Americas

Well supported by primary correspondences and sources, Issei Buddhism in the Americas (in part edited by Duncan Ryuken Williams whose is an associate professor of Japanese Buddhism and the chair of the Center for Japanese Studies at the University of California Berkeley also wrote “The Other Side of Zen: A Social History of Soto Zen Buddhism in Tokugawa Japan“) spends much of its 191 pages documenting the Buddhist experience from the point of view of those that brought it over:  Japanese American immigrants.  Especially topical with the recent commentary concerning the place of Buddhism in the West, this book places the emphasis less on the western academic perspective of Buddhism and more on how the structure and understanding of the Dharma and Buddhist practice changed within the Japanese American community during the late 19th and early 20th century.

By examining the eastward transmission of Buddhism (rather than the Western transmission from Europe) alongside the diaspora of the Issei, the authors show how these early settlers negotiated a new multiethnic, multilingual and multireligious landscape by adapting the presentation and understanding of Buddhism.  Far from static and stagnant, many of these early pioneers were progressive, proactive and reformist in their presentation.

While many western practitioners attempt to classify and create boundaries between Western and Asian Buddhism along traditional/progressive lines, “Issei Buddhism in the Americas” shows that those categories were already in major flux before any popular “Western” interest evolved.  Most important (and surprising) to me were the drastic changes in Jodo shinshu when emigrating from Japan as well as the burgeoning agglomeration of Zen and Catholicism spiritual practices in Brazil (being a Zen practitioner as well as raised Catholic, I found particular interest in that essay).  I was also disturbed to learn about extended work camps (basically businesses, that looking for cheap labor, found it in the form of recently released detainees) for many Japanese detainees that existed long after WWII ended and some were in my home-state of New Jersey.

The impetus for the movement of Buddhism to the West was not the occasional western interest in an Eastern philosophy (although I am certain that it played a significant role) by academics but a personal immigration of home-practice, societal bonds and emerging traditions from Asian Buddhists as well as trail-blazing clergy, priests and practitioners that, in a movement to make traditional Buddhism more applicable to a new environment, adapted traditional Buddhism to a new audience ~ Asian and non-Asian Buddhists living in the Americas.

Duncan Ryuken Williams did a wonderful job in presenting a series of academic essays based upon primary sources in a manner that was understandable to a lay-person like myself by organizing the book into four digestible chunks: 1) Nation and Identity 2) Education and Law 3) Race and Print Culture and 4) Patriotism and War.  Each part contains two essays pertaining to the topic with a lengthy introduction written by the editor which provided the necessary backing information and historical foundation to make the essays approachable and understandable within context of the period.

From the Introduction:

…Asian immigrants were distinguished from their European counterparts by unequal treaties, low wages and hostility to “heathen religions,” and ineligibility for citizenship, voting rights and land ownership.  It was in this context that pioneer Issei Buddhists started establishing temples in the Americas…These temples established for and by immigrants were more than just religious sites: like the Christian churches and Jewish synagogues of many European immigrants, they became centers of social and cultural life that addressed the practical needs of a growing and increasingly more settled community.

If for a moment you believe that the hostility to “heathen religions” and Asian immigrants is something in our country’s uninformed past, I ask that you read about the Vietnamese Quan Am Temple in Utica NY and how vehemently the white Christian community and neighbors oppose it.  From stating that the statue is too tall for the neighborhood, stating that the monks are on welfare and lazy to racist comments about the Vietnamese community at large.

If so motivated, read the book and comment on the article. [Update!  The Observer Dispatch has dumped the comments from the article.  For the most part these comments came from members of the Christian Evangelical community and were a rather disturbing display of racism and bigotry in the US against refugee populations and other religious beliefs.  Remember, it is much easier to swipe a problem under the rug rather than address it directly.  From William P. Cannon, Multimedia Team Editor:

We seek to foster healthy community conversations. When a story has multiple violations of our terms of service, we will deactivate the comments. We make no judgement about how comments reflect on the community

So, there you go. ]

Cheers,

John

Self and Ox Forgotten ~ Max Gimblett

The Japan Society in New York is sponsoring an exhibit of the Ten Oxherding Pictures from October 1st through January 16th and will be on view concurrently with the “Sound of One Hand Clapping:  Paintings and Calligraphy of Zen Master Hakuin” [described by myself earlier here]. 

The pictures and associated poems represent, especially in the Zen tradition, the stages a practitioner takes as she stumbles towards enlightenment.  The mind as represented by the Ox is fumbled after by a bumbling but budding practitioner that grows on the path as the pictures proceed.  The pictures were originally drawn by Chan master Kuoan Shiyuan during the 12th century and have been the inspiration for many modern renditions and contemporary interpretations.  

The exhibit will feature a collaboration of two internationally known artists, Max Gimblett and Lewis Hyde.  The pictures are sumi in style but largely abstract in form and shockingly loud in presentation.  While the original Ox Herding pictures relied upon the mundane images of hunting down an Ox to describe finding enlightenment, Gimblett and Hyde rely more on dramatic emotion and expression to portray the struggle of practice and the seething turbulence present in the deluded mind.  A wonderful focus and inspiring pieces of work.  For some more info on Hyde’s translations of the pictures go here. 

In addition, there will be a lecture on the 13th of October (an auspicious day for myself as it is my rebirthday) by artist Lewis Hyde and psychiatrist Mark Epstein on the interface between Buddhism and psychotherapy.  With moderator James Shaheen, Editor of Tricycle, this lecture will be an interesting one and one that I am sorry to miss.  [more details here] 

In the spirit of interpreting the pictures, the following is my own humble explanation.  From a person still searching the great plains for an elusive Ox, I think I look forward to the time when I can ride that bastard home. 

In the first picture “Seeking the Ox” we are just setting foot on the spiritual path ahead of us and are blissfully unaware of what the ox is or how it can be found.  With all the horizon around us we scan constantly for anything but the resulting task can only result in frustration while still living in a world of illusion. 

In the second picture “Finding the tracks” our intrepid searcher has ceased scanning the horizon and has begun to look within.  While the ox still eludes us, we find tracks ,scat and the occasional broken twig to alert us of his presence.  I liken it to the first solemn or flippant adventure into zazen where still clueless we begin to search in the right direction. 

KATSU! The third picture “First Glimpse of the Ox” represents our first experiencial view of the Mind.  Clouds open up briefly and we see the open sky but the cloud quickly close and the ox runs back into the weeds.  Upon retrospection it could have just been a daydream or a bit of indigestion. 

The fourth picture “Catching the Ox” represents the ability to view our past thoughts and patterns of thought as delusional.  We now understand and realize the ox but the ox is still wild and unruly.  Unwilling to be grasped, the ox still stamps the ground and pulls at the tether.  The strength of the ox becomes more appearant. 

“Taming the the Ox” represents the practitioner becoming more and more at ease with his own true nature.  Practice is still not a thing of ease but the ox has become tolerant and tame to the tethers that we place upon it.  It no longer runs free in the weeds but follows us with bowed head and red eyes. 

In the 6th picture “Riding the Ox Home”, the animal is finally completely tamed.  Advanced and persistant practice has removed the need of rope and tether.  Both ox and man move together with ease but the delusion of a seperate ox and practitioner still exists. 

“Ox Forgotten, Self Alone” represents the moment where ox and practitioner become one.  With duality transcended and awareness present, the practitioner is free to continue pracitce without constant attachment to concepts and worldly things. 

In “Both Ox and Self Forgotten” no picture is represented since at this point shunyata (emptiness) is realized.  Both the searcher and the ox were realized as one but now even that conception is dropped.  This is satori.  This is liberation.  Nothing worth experiencing when everything is already experienced. 

In the 9th picture “Return to the source” we are back at the beginning but no ox, no practitioner and no active searching.  Everything is calm, fluid and impermanent.  But it doesn’t matter.  It sets the stage for a new practitioner to wander out and peer into the horizon dutifully searching for the ox. 

I like to think of the final picture, “Entering the Marketplace with Helping Hands” as a return to life.  A return to the mundane.  A lifetime of searching that can stretch years or moments all for the understanding that each moment can encapsulate all of the Ox Herding pictures.  Each moment a search, a catch and a release.  But once released we return to guide down the same path.

I came across this article earlier this summer and found several disturbing truths about my blogging and how I let my filthy ego drive it around recklessly.  This seems especially topical for anyone that follows a Buddhist path and blogs (think of it as “Right Hobby”),  so I thought I would apply some of the signs that my ego is having far too much of say in what and how I write and share them with you.  This is me reflecting on my own blogging and experience and is not meant as a silent jab at any number of bloggers (both ego and non-ego driven) out there that I read, enjoy discussions and/or throw tantrums at.  This is also not meant as an example of how to blog; I am full of ego but the self-reflection was useful.

1. You want to be on TOP; better than the rest. ~ Not so much.  I really have never had any expectation of “Sweep”, or any other blog of mine, to be more than a simple and hopefully engaging, practice blog.  I can admire that many people out there have amazing writing skills, intuition and a knowledge-base that far exceeds mine.  I will grant my self the humble honor of being humorous at times but don’t pretend to have ever wanted to be recognized as ”the best”.  I am happy enough with expressing these moments as they pass.  And at least my Mom still lets me know that I make her laugh.
2. You complain because you’re not getting enough comments. ~ I don’t complain but I did and do still yearn after comments.  They make me feel that my writing is engaging enough for others to feel the need to add their own thoughts.  But any marker of success is somewhat ego driven, I suppose, but I still light up when I see someone leave a comment (I then quickly deflate when it is PachenLama or some other troll).
3. You are jealous of the success of other bloggers. ~ No, but I occasionally feel a pang of the green demon when someone scoops me on topic that I have ruminated over.  Publish or perish, ya know.  But I love to see the success of others.  This falls into Number One of this list.  If you want to be the best, you won’t be happy when others improve or gain some merit.  My personal favorite blogging moment to date is flipping on MSN and seeing a fellow Buddhist Blogger mentioned by Pat Buchanan.  But I also enjoyed being called Momma’s boy by Deepak Chopra and arguing religion with Adam Baldwin on twitter.
4. You hang out on successful blogs to draw attention to yourself. ~ Ugh…marketing.  And yes, I have.  It is all about intent.  If your intent is to stoke the flames of your own blog versus leaving relevant advice or insight then you are taking the backseat to your ego.
5. You don’t comment on certain blogs just out of principle. ~  I fall into this one as well but recently I have tried to move more towards actually saying something and not just commenting to comment.  I see it as raising your hand in class.  Do you raise your hand to get your class participation grade improved?  Do you want attention?  Have a joke? Providing encouragement? Or do you have an honest question and seeking an honest answer?
6. You publish a post because your numbers are dropping. ~  For two years I tried to post 5 times a week.  This was exhausting and I really began to wonder why I was doing it.  I did not like the answer I came up with.  “Because, if I don’t then my numbers will tank and no-one will ever love me and the world will end…cats and dogs living together! Mass Hysteria!”  Just like any daily practice, blogging changes as you grow into new environments and situations.  My current one largely does not leave much time for daily posts and nor do I think I have the energy.
7. You’re afraid to check your stats or you check them too much. ~ Daily I would check my stats and for the past summer I moved completely away from that aspect of blogging.  I check occasionally but it became too much of a driving reason to my blogging.  Does it matter that I had a huge wave of readers or that no-one was reading a post?  No, it really doesn’t.  Statistics (especially Google Analytics) is just one long rabbit hole.  It is illusionary worth, unless of course if you are trying to sell or promote something, then this tool is very useful.
8. You log on while you’re still brushing your teeth in the morning (ahem). ~ I try to cut this out of my morning routine.  Before the TV or computer gets flipped on, I practice yoga, do zazen, prostrate and/or chant.  Before distractions when the morning is still pure and open, I practice.  Before I begin thinking, I practice.
9. You’re offended because so-and-so is commenting on so-and-so’s blog, but not yours. ~  I guess my ego is not competitive because I have never had an issue with people commented on other blogs and not mine.  It sounds awfully similar to the “best friend” syndrome in High School or on Glee.
10. You feel entitled to leave a comment and take offense if your opinion is disregarded. ~ It irks me when I am ignored or set aside and would much rather my opinion (even if misguided or incorrect) be engaged or provided the opportunity to learn from it or at very least discuss it.  But to take offense at this seems harsh.  Although I still get pissed when someone erases my comment without reason…
11. You don’t appreciate the time you spend blogging. ~ Well, here is the crux of it.  When it becomes a chore or something that is no longer a positive or at very least an engaging experience, I think we have lost our way.  I saw the drama beginning to outshine the Dharma in my posts.  Drama is fine in moderation.  I can deal with some excitement but not too much excitement.

When I recently switched to a smaller posterous blog and began to just write when motivated or when I really felt there was something to say or express, I found the experience much more liberating and less stagnant.  It was less of a moment of self-promotion and more just a moment.  Sometimes a funny moment, sometimes a serious moment.  But it seemed that letting the moments come as they may, may be a much more rewarding experience.

Cheers,

John

After years of visiting Japan for Zen Buddhist training, Robert Aitken and his wife Anne Hopkins Aitken founded the Diamond Sangha in 1959 by inviting friends to join them for zazen in their living room in East Oahu, near Koko Head. Shortly thereafter, they purchased a house in Manoa which became known as the Koko An Zendo. Initially, Diamond Sangha students received guidance and training from masters of the Sanbo Kyodan (Harada-Yasutani-Yamada lineage) and other respected teachers and Zen masters from Japan.

Robert Aitken received permission to teach in 1974, and dharma transmission in 1985 from Yamada Koun Roshi. During the nineteen seventies and eighties, many students found refuge with Roshi and Anne at the Maui Zendo, while Honolulu students continued to practice and live at the Koko An Zendo. Roshi traveled regularly to Australia and other practice centers around the world during these years, and today there are Diamond Sangha centers in North and South America, Europe, Australia and New Zealand founded by students and Aitken Roshi or his dharma heirs.

Aitken Roshi’s “Taking the Path of Zen” helped me find a path to practice that was both accessible and kind.  His actions and strivings have benefitted me in more way than I can really express.  From his book “Miniatures of a Zen Master”

Old age ain’t no place for sissies.  Yes, that’s true.  One must cope with a range of afflictions  from incontinence to macular degeneration, not to mention peripheral neuropathy, strokes and cancer – and memory loss!  Yet I don’t mourn my loss youth.  What a confused mess I was! What time I wasted!  All in all, I am really quite comfortable in these last years. Pass the marmalade.

Kawase Hasui was one of the most prolific shin hanga artists of the early 20th century. Known for his landscapes, he designed hundreds of woodblock prints of temples, cityscapes and geological forms from all around Japan.  Several characters are present in Kawase’s works; the weather, buildings and occasional passersby each have a unique personality.

While not an art collector by any means, it seems that many of Kawase’s wood blocks were destroyed in Tokyo’s Great Fire and Earthquake of September 1, 1923 which makes any prints before that event relatively rare and rather collectable.  A few of this prints will be purchased for my sitting room once I rob a bank.

The shin hanga (新版画^?, lit. “new prints”) art movement in early 20th century Japan, during the Taishō and Shōwa periods, revitalized traditional ukiyo-e art which had its roots in the Edo and Meiji periods (17th–19th century). It maintained the traditional ukiyo-e collaborative system (hanmoto system) where the artist, carver, printer, and publisher engaged in division of labor, as opposed to the sōsaku hanga (creative prints) movement which advocated the principles of “self-drawn” (jiga), “self-carved” (jikoku) and “self-printed” (jizuri), according to which the artist, with the desire of expressing the self, is the sole creator of art.

The term shin hanga was coined in 1915 by Watanabe Shōzaburō (1885-1962), the most important publisher of shin hanga, with the aim of differentiating shin hanga from the commercial mass art that ukiyo-e had been, though it was driven largely by exports to the United States. The movement flourished from around 1915 to 1942, though it resumed briefly from 1946 through the 1950s. Inspired by European Impressionism, the artists incorporated Western elements such as the effects of light and the expression of individual moods, but focused on strictly traditional themes of landscapes (fukeiga), famous places (meishō), beautiful women (bijinga), kabuki actors (yakusha-e), and birds and flowers (kachōga). [via Wikipedia]

It is an old story ~ A practitioner wishes to meditate regularly but either can’t (or doesn’t want to) find the time to do it consistently. The limiting factor can be geographic, physical or mental reasons that prevent them from attending a larger, “proper” sangha.  For my situation, I am stuck between lack of time, massive leftover guilt from my Catholic upbringing and too few local resources to tap.  While my local grassroots Soto Zen sitting group is accommodating, it is still difficult to find time away from family needs and duties to attend regularly.  It becomes a mental battle between the want to practice with a group, my innate guilt for leaving for a time that may be better used and my want to spend some quality time with family.  The ropes tug back and forth.

So, except for some special occasions, my practice is a home-practice.  Which means that the motivation and diligence is squarely in my novice hands, slave to the ebb and sway of work, visiting family, depression and dogs…But luckily, after some trial and error, I was able to come up with a routine that I can stick to, and thought that it would be a good enough time to share a bit of it with the hope of benefiting those in a similar situation.

First, set up everything the night before.  I am a morning person and rarely sleep past 6 AM and it is easier for me to stick to a morning meditation schedule and not an evening one.  But even a the brisk hour of 5 AM, I am still limited in time and discovered that my largest hurdle was laziness in setting up cushions/mats and altar that early in the morning. So I set out everything (mats, cushion, clothes etc), prepare incense and have an online digital timer ready to go the night before.  It has become a part of my meditation routine to include some ritual the night before.

Take a second to set an alarm for 10-15 minutes earlier than your planned sitting time but not so much that you will get caught up in some other task.  Oh my! Dishes need  washing and there is a hamper full of clothes, a litter box full of shit … posts need crafting and hair needs setting.  Since it is easy to become distracted with other bits of living I sit as soon as I come out of the bathroom.  The morning is fresh and my mind is not racing with the myriad of tasks for the day.  This is the best time.

I hate affirmations but…maybe a little something to get into the mood just as you wake up.  Something quick that will get you motivated. Perhaps a blog?  My personal favorites are John Daido Roshi’s ”Invoking Reality“, Richard Baker Roshi’s ”Minatures of a Zen Master“, Pema Chodron’s “Start Where You Are“, Master Cheng Yen’s “Jing Si Aphorisms” or I just run to Access to Insight and click on “Random Sutta”

Take it seriously and don’t consider it *just* meditation.  We are rotting from the first moment we are conceived.  Nothing slows down the process but this practice may help us deal with it.  I dedicate my practice to anyone that needs it.  Metta to my daughter.  Thoughts to my friends that are feeling the bite of samsara.  The dedication that by beginning to realize myself I can act in benefit for all other sentient beings.  Yeah, its lofty but it *is* that important. 

Laugh and loosen up.  In all this seriousness there is humor.  Sometimes it just won’t happen, accept it.  The dog will need to go out or you will get bum-rushed by a toddler.  All those sentient beings understand that you have a life too and that it affects your practice.  Strive but not to the point of self-defeat.

Start out small and build up rather than go for broke and beat your head against the zendo wall.  I started with 10 minutes and moved up to 15 and then to 25.  That is the peak of what I can do with my current situation and I am ok with that.  Purists will tell you that anything under 45 minutes is a waste of time.  Meditation is never a waste of time.  Any moment spent in the process of realizing yourself is time well spent.

Find a substitution for meditation.  There are times that sitting is out of the question for whatever reason and I have a back up activity.  In lieu of seated meditation I engage in walking meditation up and down a few blocks, yoga or try to do 108 prostrations.  I even had 108 push-ups as a possible replacement when I needed to get in a work-out and had too much energy to sit.  Often, I walk in the morning when meditation isn’t fitting into the schedule.  I walk either silently or listening to a liturgy (Soto, Seon or Shingon) recording.  Dharma talks didn’t work as well since I tended to focus more on the words than on the breathing and walking. 

Practice is more than just meditation.  Some simply don’t like meditation or can’t make it work.  Find a different practice.  There are plenty of Dharma doors that can be opened…they all lead to the same place.

Meditation is a process and not a goal.  Expecting a revelation on the first sit is like expecting to hit a home-run against a major league pitcher the first time you hold a bat.  Yeah, there is a slight chance but let’s be realistic, you are sitting against a trained and capable foe ~ your self.  And the most devious weapon in its repertoire is the idea that there is a “right” meditation versus a “wrong” meditation.  Rather, any moment of self-reflection is of benefit both to you and to those around you.  Don’t expect a good sit or a bad sit.  It is all the same.  When tired, we will have snatches of daydreams drift in an out of consciousness.  When stressed we will mull over problems and puzzles from work.  When angry we will seeth over the causes of our anger.   None of these things negate our meditation.  Just don’t let them dominate.

Meditation won’t make me happy.  It won’t.  It is simply not the purpose of meditation to make us happy.  What it will do is make you more receptive to being happy, content and compassionate in your daily life.  It isn’t a magical elixir that will solve all your problems or make your life a sea of bliss.  Just as brushing your teeth will prevent rot; meditation will prevent the corrosive nature of samsara from rusting your glimmer.  It ain’t much but it will keep you focused on how attentive you are through the day.  How equitable you are to family, friends and complete strangers.  How steeped our actions are in anger or in compassion.  How calmly we handle stress and strain.  How quickly are we to levy blame onto others or ourselves.

Our practice isn’t simply how we sit - It’s how we live our life.  It is the act of meditation that provides a template of how to express the subtle nature of the Dharma.  But that template is useless if not applied to our everyday life.

The Japanese tea ceremony emphasizes form and uniqueness of experience.  One contemporary Zen master performed the tea ceremony with instant coffee thus insisting that the true vessel of the experience is in the mastery of process and not the brew in the pot.   While focus is on the form in  preparing, serving and drinking the tea in the Japanese tradition; the Chinese ceremony focuses more on the tea itself.   In the Chinese tradition, guests focus on the taste, smell and experience of the drink and the companionship that naturally comes with it. 

It is not steeped with religion but has a distinct flavor of Buddhism, Taoism and Confucianism all rolled into one seaweed green bolide.  In the Chinese method guests savor each step; enjoy each sip and appreciate the experience.  Think of it as the “happy hour” of tea ceremonies.

So to begin…

1. A clay teapot never gets washed.  It may be rinsed and set to dry but the use over time will give the teapot a specific essence that will come out in the tea.  If the teapot is new, rinse it out with hot water and then place tea into the pot.  Use wooden scoops to handle the tea leaves as metal is just lame.
2. The amount of tea leaves added depends on how many people are present and how strong you prefer your tea.  I fill my pot less than 1/4 full with tea leaves as I like my tea weak. Heat the water to the proper temperature. Water for green tea should never be brought to boiling. It should only be heated enough so that tiny bubbles are rising from the bottom of the kettle (Baisao called these bubbles “fish eyes”).  Bring water for Oolong or black tea to a rapid boil.  Heat water in the traditional method – in a kettle on  a stove top. The water from the kettle can then be poured into a clay teapot.  I used to use a cast-iron pot but eventually you will get metallic flavor coming out in the tea…or rust…or lead…and then you die.
3. Pour water from the large teapot into a small teapot (or in my case, into a french press), until the water covers the leaves. Almost immediately after pour out the water among the small tea cups.  Not everything that hits tea leaves is for drinking.  This first infusion just warms the cups and gets the tea leaves ready (tea leaves are notoriously masochistic, you should see what they do with hot wax and a choker).
4. So then pour another round of water from the big teapot into the small teapot.  Empty the teacups from the first pouring back over (not into) the teapot.  Yeah, I know this seems like wasting but WTF, its cultural. 
5. Now you can pour the tea from the small teapot into the tea cups for actual imbibing.  The first serving of tea should only “brew” for 10-30 seconds. By the time you finished pouring the initial infusion over the teapot, it is time to pour out the tea from the tea pot into the cups.   See all that weird cultural pouring of water actually served as a timer…now don’t you feel like an ass.  Good.
6. With each infusion, add 30 seconds to the brewing time. A good tea will produce a minimum of 3 infusions (except the Oolong which, dependant on quality can go all night long…[insert joke about Kyle's mother here]
7. Place the tea cup in a wooden holder and offer some to your guest. If you are the guest, receive the tea cup and holder with both hands.  If you are the receiver of tea, it is completely fine to bow, lower the cup to your waist and pour peppermint schnapps into the cup.  Try not to let your host see…its easier if you just keep this up for 5-6 infusions.
8. Bullshit about the tea.

I hope this was informative.  Here is a video recapping todays lesson except they do it differently.

This is just awesome…

Inspired by a Twitter conversation between the authors of Sweep the Dust, Push the Dirt and DigitalZendo, these two kind souls have been instrumental in one of the best months in BuddhaBadges history. We honor their belief and support with “The Merit Badge”. If you get it, give it as a reward for a good deed. Don’t keep it.

Thanks Buddha Badges!  So buy the merit badge and pass it on to someone that deserves it.  You can’t purchase merit but you can always reward good folks. 

Remember that ninety percent of the proceeds from Buddha Badges go to different monthly charities.  I am not sure where July donations are going but you can check the list of agencies here.  The month of June is being donated to the Tzu Chi Foundation.

Tzu Chi Foundation was established in 1966 by Venerable Dharma Master Cheng Yen on the poor east coast of Taiwan. For over 43 years, the foundation has been contributing to better social and community services, medical care, education and humanism in Taiwan and around the world. From the first 30 members, housewives who saved two cents from their grocery money each day to help the poor, the foundation has volunteers in 47 countries , with 345 offices worldwide.”

Great job, Buddha Badges…But when do I become a badge?

Credit for this image goes to @iDharma on twitter.