Talk given at the start of an introductory study course on Zen
I have mixed feelings when we put on study events and courses at Bristol Zen Dojo. I think it is a good thing, but I also have some reservations which I would like to share with you as we begin this study course. So that you are aware of them – and so are less likely to fall into these traps.
Zen can be treated quite intellectually. It can become a bit of a game. This trend is particularly prevalent online, in internet groups populated primarily by intellectual young men. I’ve got nothing against intellectual young men – indeed, I used to be one – but some of them can be more confident and certain than is appropriate. There can be a tendency to play word games, each trying to be more Zen, more nondual, than the last. In the end, it effectively becomes an ego game. People can look at the stories of the Old Masters, and see these exchanges, and think that they need to be the same.
But more generally, by offering a study course, we are giving you stuff that you can ‘know’ about Zen. Zen knowledge. To quote Jean Shogen Baby, one of our founders, when someone asked him to teach more about Buddhist philosophy: “Knowledge is a good thing. In fact, it's a kind of wealth. But ultimately, Zen is not about the acquisition of wealth.”
I do believe there is value in understanding some of the concepts in Zen and Buddhism, but it is not to ‘learn’ about them. It can help you put into words what you are already experiencing through practice and life. It helps as a framework for understanding what you're experiencing, and that means it should not be used as a substitute for experience. Nancy Nanshin Amphoux recommended practicing for a period of time before engaging with Zen teachings and books for exactly this reason. Practice helps to understand the teachings.
Zen, in the end, is about direct experience, which is, in the end, about practice. Knowing stuff is no substitute for practice. One must practice. But exploring the ideas behind Zen can give a framework for putting into words what one experiences.
Also, I would say that throughout the tradition of Zen, there has always been an emphasis on freshness of words. One never parrots the words of someone in the past. One maybe quotes them, but it's the job of someone who is in a teaching role in Zen to always bring freshness to the teachings. It's not about trying to preserve some old teaching, but rather it is to refer to what was said 2500 years ago, 1500 years ago, 1000 years ago, 50 years ago, 10 years ago, but do it in a way which is fresh and alive. This means using one's own language as well as the language of the past. It also means there is a risk that terms, whether they're old or relatively new, can become ossified. I think ‘mindfulness’ is a word which sometimes is used in a way that is a little bit ossified nowadays. It doesn't have the freshness it had when it was first used 20-30 years ago. It's always the job of a teacher to keep things fresh, and it's also the job of a student to find freshness in their own practice, in their own hearts and their own words.
So don't try to be wise. Don't try to be nondual. Just live a genuine life. And if these words help you do that, then good. But if they don't, that's fine too.
