The Koan

 The koan arises naturally they say, and this way of looking at life is I think, worthy of some consideration. My koan is certainly tied up with fear. Fear which is closely tied to an appreciation of emptiness. It was by study of Zen Buddhism that I gained some clarity into the spiritual significance of what had previously been only a psychologically informed appreciation of my experience. Buddhism brought a wider philosophical understanding and the prospect of a greater peace than had been hoped possible. And more than this it brought a much greater depth and level of meaning to my life. Zen, by cutting straight to the heart of things with its uncompromising attitude to reality made what had been dimly understood and greatly felt and feared into a purpose. My understanding that things are so transient and vulnerable, clarified by the language of Buddhism as dependent origination, emptiness, made access to non-duality in the everyday a positive prospect. Couching this as the koan if I remember to see it that way, makes everything fuel to the fire of enlightenment. Through meditation both on and off the cushion and trying to keep to the precepts my experience might widen and deepen leading to a more compassionate, enriching life.

 Recently DC was talking about transcendence and perhaps having my koan in mind to some extent, I responded that those with an understanding of the spiritual significance of this are generally reluctant to speak of it for fear of doing harm, and he concurred. Altered states of consciousness, whether through meditation, music, dance, sex, alcohol or other drugs seem to have been a part of human experience for a very long time across many cultures. The harm or good any of this may cause depends upon intention, degree of awareness, precise details of the activity and energy expended. User beware! Let's consider that list a little: meditation, music, dance, sex, alcohol and other drugs. The first four have a history of links with spiritual practice, alcohol is a suppressant which blunts awareness and other than in small quantities to 'take the edge off' and promote a relaxed social mood is off very little benefit and can do a lot of harm. Drugs are numerous and dangerous. Some have a history of links to spiritual practice but generally not that held by established sanghas. Interestingly, there are current medical trials of psychedelics to help with anxiety and depression although they are not available as treatment options at this time. Aldus Huxley wrote of the 'reducing valve of the mind' and whilst I think we need take care with this notion there's something in it. Altered states of consciousness and transcendence have their place and if approached with the intention to surrender the self to the reality of the universe without craving experience can lead one to realise Buddha nature understanding that it's not an individual one but One that is. And then we return to the koan in daily life. Chop wood and carry water. These two aspects of life, form and emptiness, the mundane and the profound might be seen as an axis upon which I sit and struggle with fear, confusion and failing to keep the precepts, enjoy the vibrancy of life and its sensuality, play out past and create further karma... The koan unfolding. Unless any of these musings or the practices to which they refer result in greater compassion and ability to live happily causing minimal harm then they are at best useless but perhaps amusing and at worst harmful. Thankfully, the Buddha's recommendation to follow the 'middle way', steering us to the 'heart mind', does I believe, make the koan as indicated above, everything fuel to the fire of enlightenment. Which, when held by and holding the everyday struggles is an awfully magnificent prospect. The hour by hour experience is far less lofty.

I'm reading The Wild White Goose, the diaries of Roshi Jiyu Kennett during her time in Japan. There's a section in which the koan is discussed. Jiyu comments that people receive their koan at different times. This idea (of their koan) probably needs some 'unpacking' but the diaries don't go there and I don't feel confident to say much more than that the basic idea seems to match my experience. Jiyu goes on to point to the relationship of the size of the koan, the time one's had it and their degree of spiritual development. (The words used here aren't exactly hers, I'm aware that this sentence is fraught with possible confusion and it's difficult to be clear about the nature of temporality.) In this way of looking at things I think I may have received my koan at birth. I was induced, it was a difficult labour and I was cot nursed for the first couple of days. I imagine this was a stressful entry to the world. But who knows? I developed into a sensitive, cautious child. The koan was given further complexities as I developed OCD at about 9 years of age and realised I was gay at about 13 or 14. So, an interesting 'grab bag' of karma which by placing me in some respects outside the 'norm' has I think, given me or forced me to gain insight. These days I'm hard pressed to say where the size of my koan and the level of insight and/or spiritual development (that's not the right word) and the unfolding karma leave me. But such is the nature of koans.

Cutting the cat in one

For much of my life I've occupied the trying to be as right as possible space. And, spiritually it is important to wipe away the dust as much as it is to realise that there's neither dust nor anywhere for it to land. (See the Platform Sutra.) Now I notice that my efforts might be well focused on cutting the cat in one (see Mumonkan Case 14). Now, there's much pointed to I feel in this koan but the aspect which seems to draw my attention is finding unity at all levels in daily life. The precepts guide us in this and I recently came across a note that all the precepts are aspects of one precept - not to kill (the Buddha, the 'truth'). Can I remain present, aware and open to this so as to act in each arising moment in full accordance with this? No! Can and do I try? Fairly much so (I hope).

I started this post some days ago and didn't get into it before other things prompted me to write. Recently I was at Wallington in Northumberland and discovered that the Grade 1 listed walled garden greenhouse is now falling apart and subject to review by 'specialists' to determine what courses of action are open to the National Trust. Much decay and slipped glass is evident.

I found myself considering my thoughts about saving such assets. It's such a lovely place and I've photos from decades past of myself and friends in the greenhouse, the garden and outside the house. Observing the flaking paint it's clear the situation is beyond 'wabi-sabi' (a beauty I can struggle with accepting at the best of times), there's a risk to persons due to falling glass and access has had to be stopped even for staff. There is I think, merit (in the widest sense) in looking after historical things and it's lovely to pour love into them. Where I find myself feeling sceptical is the fuzzy area where a thing is beyond its life and we enter into a kind of fetish, generating an arguably false narrative about a thing. Without getting too bogged down in the details of the way we make our worlds both in the physical sense and in and through our thoughts, there are I think, broader cultural discussions to be had about our relation to the past, present and future. The past isn't (entirely) gone, it continues to unfold in each moment. And in this sense we have a responsibility to the future. Where energy is generated to save and / or create beauty, where there's creativity and love we know it feels right, heartfelt. Is there a space where we cross over into less helpful attachments in how we relate to the past? Can this impinge our ability to pour loving effort into the new? I think so. I think we can abrogate our responsibility to the future or more accurately to the present, by engaging in an excessive preoccupation with extending things beyond their life. A thing should live.

When I started this post I was wrestling with finding a way through an interpersonal conflict (hence 'cut the cat in one'). Forgetting the post and returning, inspired by thoughts of wabi-sabi, a natural life for a thing and appreciation of the space in which things have meaning, I wonder at the koan unfolding in daily life. Unity is present in the separation when I 'get out of my way', I do feel this even though it's not clear. Holding the questions 'In this moment what is being asked of me? What's needed in the next 5 or so minutes?' If I remember to ask and to open to the unity in the separation, the naturally arising answers go a long way to answer the koan without causing undue waves.

I hope a way can be found to keep life in the Wallington greenhouse, not 'pickled in aspic' but as a working, living thing.

My koan arising in the form of interpersonal conflict finds some resolution where I accept the need both to yield and stand firm. I'm disappointed that the koan can still overwhelm me at times in so many ways. Be like willow they say. It doesn't come naturally to me. And there's a time to be more the mountain. 

Some manifestations of the Buddha just shine out bright. Although I know some will call them garish, I love these splashes of bright red colour. There's a place for cool calm sophistication and a place for HELLO, I'm here!

Our Humanity

 I'm sitting trying to work out what this post is about. A number of things seem to have energy for (or be draining energy from) me. I continue to work with the challenges of our house moves, reawakened trauma and the changes and challenges that we all face in these times. I'm reading In Any Given Moment by Ajahn Munindo. I find this very interesting as I reflect upon my own spiritual journey in the light of how he describes his in this book. I'm still digesting that but the salient energy there is that I feel warmth and respect for him and renewed appreciation of the complexity and simplicity of the path. Homage to the triple gem.

The geopolitical situation is alarming. Trump and his tech oligarchs are a serious and dangerous threat to peace and democracy. I'm not convinced sufficient people realise how close right ring populism, fuelled by  the disenfranchised fallout from 40 or 50 years of neoliberalism is taking us down the road to full scale fascism. As a gay man I'm hyper-vigilant to this. I have a sinking feeling; it may already be too late to save any hope of a world where cooperation with each other and the biosphere take precedence over the power of a very few very very rich people (mainly men). Toxic masculinity in the broadest sense is spewing out throughout the world.

 In this body-mind is squared the circle of this life. Trying to work out what this post is about and/or trying to work out what things have energy / drain energy is a manifestation of the koan; the resolution in a balance of trying and allowing tends to escape me. Sometimes the best that can be done is to look after the body and try not to spin the wheels (of the mind) too much.

Driving to work today a Spotify playlist came to Take me to Church by Hozier. It was this track that prompted me to post. There are a number of themes in this song but the basic energy in the music is our humanity.

Maria

Last night DC, a friend and I saw the movie 'Maria' about Maria Callas. I loved it and found it both aurally and visually stunning. Often there were tears streaming down my face. It was also I thought, cleverly constructed cinematographically to portray something of the state of her mental health, her use of medication and the way in which narratives are constructed and revised. Depicting something of the traumas of her younger life and alluding to the ways in which these informed her appreciation of the meaning of the music we are moved by the biography, the music and the energy and humanity of the characters. For me what shone through was an expression of the inevitable heartache at the bottom of human life. In life our hopes, dreams and aspirations seldom come without loss and suffering and however hard we try to control, plan and manage our life there is almost always a different outcome. In Buddhist terms we cling through delusion to things which are empty, they aren't what we ever thought or hoped and so at some point our experience disappoints and may even be so painful as to approach destruction of an integrated personality. The film portrays Maria as having taken refuge in the music. The music articulates suffering and our humanity and it is this which is both moving and beautiful. Through it we feel the nature of our predicament and ascend like the lark of Vaughn Williams above our separation and into a promise of... of we can't quite articulate... and 'it' remains just out of reach but nonetheless we have been suffused by it. But this refuge in music which has provided both articulation and meaning is ultimately taken from her as it is based upon the empty body and its dependence upon so many conditioned forms. Form is emptiness, emptiness is form came to me in various ways as narratives were constructed and revised time and again though the aural and visual fields of the movie. There is a celebration of creativity, work, care, love and affection. Life has value.