The Zen Studies Podcast

Many people think that the aim of Buddhism is let go of any kind of longing. However, without wholesome desires – to awaken, to act ethically, to honor your relationships, etc. – you wouldn't progress in practice. I discuss five kinds of appropriate longing based loosely on the Vajrayana teaching of the five wisdom energies.

When we sit Zazen, even if we're working with a koan, we do not actively try to achieve insight. But nonetheless, Chan and Zen masters throughout history have exhorted us to awaken to Reality. How does insight happen when you're "just sitting?" How do you awaken to what you have not yet seen without getting caught up in concepts of enlightenment and delusion, before and after? How do you lean into the unknown if you're trying to let go of any kind of doing at all?

There are countless ways in which we can feel inwardly divided or somehow alienated from our true self. Case 35 of the Mumonkan , or Gateless Gate koan collection addresses this matter with a pointed question about Seijo, the character in a traditional Chinese story who ends up living parallel lives. The koan asks, "Which one is the true Seijo?" Naturally, the answer is "Both… and neither."

To keep your Dharma practice lively, it's important to regularly identify the "edge" of your practice. This is your growth point – the current limit of your understanding and your capacity to embody it. Of course, you don't have a single edge; it might be more accurate to say it's important to identify something on your growth "perimeter," or find one of your many edges, so you focus your practice or have a dialogue with a teacher. I discuss what an edge is, what it means to find one, why this is important, and how to go about it.

To keep your Dharma practice lively, it's important to regularly identify the "edge" of your practice. This is your growth point – the current limit of your understanding and your capacity to embody it. Of course, you don't have a single edge; it might be more accurate to say it's important to identify something on your growth "perimeter," or find one of your many edges, so you can focus your practice or have a dialogue with a teacher. I discuss what an edge is, what it means to find one, why this is important, and how to go about it.

This is second episode of two on this topic. In the first episode (334), I identified existing episodes of the Zen Studies Podcast on - or related to - rebirth that you might want to listen to for context and background. Then I discussed the way you are free to believe in rebirth, disbelieve, or remain agnostic about it. Finally, I talked about the first useful lesson we can take from the teachings of rebirth: The basic laws of karma, or behavioral cause-and-effect, as portrayed in the cosmology of the Six Realms. In this episode I cover five more useful lessons from the Buddhist teachings on rebirth.

Zen practice is not dependent on rebirth being true or untrue, and I suspect most Dharma teachers would say the same of their lineage traditions. As long as you practice, it doesn't matter whether you believe in rebirth, disbelieve, or maintain an agnostic attitude. Nevertheless, the traditional narratives and imagery of rebirth teachings contain many valuable lessons for us.

Sometimes it's difficult to relate to the goal of "awakening" or "enlightenment." Especially if we've gained a hard-won sense of peace with ourselves and our lives, it can seem counterproductive to dwell on some experience or understanding we don't yet have and then drive ourselves to achieve it. I want to share an alternative way to frame your practice that might kindle your Bodhicitta in a different way.

For many years now, people have been asking me how to deepen their Zen practice. They wonder, "What's next?" Some lay people are perfectly content guiding their own practice, but others long for more structure – some kind of program to which they can apply themselves. I have long desired to meet such requests, but I wasn't clear how. After teaching Zen for over 15 years, I have developed a clearer sense of what to require of my students if they are asking me to personally guide their practice. I share my practice agreement for formal students here.

How can we practice without ignoring the world, but also without being overwhelmed by it? We can learn something from a koan involving the 9 th century Chan master Zhaozhou (Joshu): A monk asked, "When a great difficulties come, how should I avoid them?" Zhaozhou said, "Just right." We can include great difficulties in our perception of this life without being destroyed by them, letting our hearts break without rejecting this world or becoming consumed by anger or grief.

This is a teisho – like a cross between a Dharma Talk and guided meditation. Teisho are sometimes called "encouragement talks," and they are meant to help listeners connect with the Dharma in the spaciousness and silence of zazen. Teisho are not about explanations or the imparting of information, and they generally are not recorded. They are offered spontaneously, just for the moment, just for those listening. Although you may not be sitting zazen while you listen to this episode, I thought I would offer you a teisho as if you are.

In Part 2 of this episode, I continue giving my "2,500 years' worth of Buddhist texts in a nutshell," an overview of texts in my Zen lineage. In Part 1 I explained what makes a Buddhist text considered legitimate enough to be passed down through the ages. I also introduced the idea of a Buddhist family tree and discussed the original Buddhist canon, the rising of the Mahayana, and the Mahayana sutras. In this episode I cover Mahayana philosophers, Chinese Chan literature, and the writings of two of the main Japanese Zen ancestors in my lineage.

In Buddhism, we have three treasures: Buddha, teachers or our own awakened nature; Dharma, the teachings or the truth itself, and Sangha, the community of people who practice and maintain the tradition together. From the beginning of Buddhism, then, community has been considered essential – but in what sense? We may think of Sangha primarily as an impersonal institution providing access to Buddhist teachings and practice. It certainly fulfills that function, but I believe it's equally important that our Sanghas be welcoming, loving, joyful, mature communities: A place where everybody knows your name, and they're always glad you came.

In Buddhism, we have three treasures: Buddha, teachers or our own awakened nature; Dharma, the teachings or the truth itself, and Sangha, the community of people who practice and maintain the tradition together. From the beginning of Buddhism, then, community has been considered essential – but in what sense? We may think of Sangha primarily as an impersonal institution providing access to Buddhist teachings and practice. It certainly fulfills that function, but I believe it's equally important that our Sanghas be welcoming, loving, joyful, mature communities: A place where everybody knows your name, and they're always glad you came.

You may have discovered there are lots of Buddhist teachings and texts. Jews have their Torah, Christians their Bible, Muslims their Quran, and Hindus their Vedas, but Buddhists have no divinely-inspired central text, or even collection of texts, to serve as a definitive source of orthodox teachings. The texts considered authoritative in at least one sect of Buddhism would fill a library. This episode (along with Part 2) is meant to be a brief and broad overview of 2500 years'-worth of Buddhist texts in the Zen lineage. Hopefully, it can give you some context for whatever text you might find yourself reading.

In Buddhism, we are guided by the ideal of a Buddha, or awakened being. One of the characteristics of a Buddha is unconditional and selfless generosity, and when your generosity is blocked, you can be sure that some part of you still needs understanding, healing or liberation. On the other hand, when you're able to set aside your self-doubt and imagine yourself as a Buddha, when you look on other beings as if they were your children, you may find your generosity flows more naturally.

In koan #6 from the Blue Cliff Record, Yunmen says, "Every day is a good day." I explore this koan, including the way we sometimes imagine our real life is going to happen after something, and the various ways we can experience "good."

Since the term arose in 1950's, "self-care" has referred to a number of different things. If we consider self-care to be things you do to remain physically and mentally healthy, then Zazen – simple, goalless, Zen meditation – can be seen as excellent self-care. In these troubled times, such self-care can even be seen as defiant – refusing to be broken down by challenging circumstances. Other forms of meditation can also be seen as self-care, of course, but Zazen can be a little difficult to get your mind around. Framing it as self-care may help you appreciate what it's all about.

This a Q&A episode based on questions I've received from listeners: Does Zen have anything to say about human relationships? Can we learn anything from the cultural popularization of the term "Zen"? If we have no independent self-nature, what about our sense of enduring self? Do Buddhists practice confession like Catholics?

Viewed historically, Zen is a form of Mahayana Buddhism that evolved from the original forms Buddhism that were established in India after the Buddha's death around 2,500 BC. Many aspects of original Buddhism are retained in Zen, including respect for Shakyamuni Buddha and his teachings. However, the degree of transformation Buddhism underwent when it took root in China and evolved into Chan (later called "Zen" in Japan) is difficult to overestimate, resulting in a path of radical nondualism. Both the ultimate goal of practice and the means to achieve that goal changed so radically that it's legitimate to question whether Chan is even Buddhism. If you want to walk the path of Zen/Chan, it's essential to understand how it differs from original Buddhism.