A Clear Pure Pool

What can it mean to "practice Zen?" Are not zazen, koan study, sutra chanting, etc., all contrivances? On the other hand, if all such are to be eliminated, how will the Zen student ever progress from her unenlightened condition to a state of enlightenment? - Bernard Phillips in the Zen Calendar (November 13, 2007).

My heart's like the autumn moon
reflecting in the clear pure pool.
Nothing to compare.
What can I say? - Han-Shan in the Zen Calendar (November 14, 2007).

Day 185. Leafing through my Zen Page-A-Day quotes makes me serenely, obscenely happy. A couple of nights ago I began sorting them according to some categories I created (e.g. Nothingness, Simplicity, Zazen, Nature), with the idea that I could then select quotes for the blog more efficiently. It was like herding cats. Some things defy categorization. Though my OCD felt mortally wounded, I was inspired and entertained simply from reading over so many pages at a time. The only fruitful outcome - and I am becoming dangerously and joyously unattached to any outcome whatsoever - was a whopping big pile of quotes under the category "My Favorites." They may or may not relate to future subject matter, but I am certain each and every one of them will be a blog opening in the next six months. They are too good not to share.

I had a Peak Experience Squared as I read through quotes for tonight. Bernard Phillips eloquently expressed a question I frequently pose to myself regarding my practice. If Zen is "Just this", why bother to sit zazen, chant sutras, and study Zen writing (which tends to make my neurons clang against one another in perplexity)? On the other hand, with what else can we possibly pave the surface of the Road to Enlightenment? Like all Zen meanderings worth their muster, Mr. Phillips didn't follow his question with an answer. Ah, such is Zen!

Part Two of my Peak Experience came when I read the quote immediately following Bernard's. I had planned to write about last night's meditation, and discovered that Han-Shan already had. I will try to put my own words to it, but his say it best.

Reaching the halfway point of my meditation year has proven to be highly significant. It dawned on me as I bowed last night that I will be sitting for 40 minutes for the next six months. In terms of how long I sit, I have arrived. I will not be increasing my meditation time. I acknowledged for myself that I had honored the plan I originally laid out - the one in which I incrementally added five more minutes to sitting time. There is something deeply gratifying about sticking to my plan. I am aware that commitment to a goal, particularly a goal with no discernible (or easily quantifiable) payoff, is no longer valued in our society. No matter. While keeping a firm grip on my ego reins, I have an extraordinarily good feeling about this most private of commitments.

Perhaps it is not accidental that my teacher held zazen for precisely 40 minutes. Unfathomably, it seems to facilitate a deeper state of meditation. As I ooze along on my interminable learning curve, the Monkeys quiet a bit more quickly of late. The abyss is a little darker. I drop into it more frequently, and hover for two or three nanoseconds rather than one. Often, I don't summon Monkey chatter for assistance with focus; I just invite myself to Nothingness. Like I'm becoming more familiar with the route, though there are still numerous forks in the road. Baby steps.

Last night an awareness of millions of others who practice zazen floated into my consciousness. There was some mild Monkey chatter as I calculated time differences, imagining extremely early rising European Buddhists followed by a vision of Asian Buddhists joining voices in a mid-morning chant. Something quite beautiful followed. First, I felt a profound sense of connection with these beings. As I drew some deep and peaceful breaths, boundaries blurred and disappeared, and the most incredible feeling of Oneness enveloped me as I grasped - not with my mind, with my heart - that we all breathed the Same Breath. It was like drinking from original Mother's milk. We were all nourished from the same source; we were a singular recipient of the goodness of the universe. Minds and bodies had fallen away.

As if that encounter wasn't nonmind-blowing enough, something even more life-altering followed. As my breath became The Breath, I was engulfed with an unequivocal experience of complete and perfect Love. Bathed in adoration. A love so divine and consummate as to render me fleetingly transformed. No experience of human love can compare. I know it was a glimpse of my - all of our - true nature. We are perfect beyond description. Loved beyond comprehension. For a transient moment, I lived Grace. I would like to dwell there forever.

Han-Shan was right: There is nothing to compare. What can I say? If I sit for a thousand more years, I don't know if I will enter that state of grace again. Then again, I may be there as soon as I land on my cushion tonight. For now, my heart is like an autumn moon that has dipped in a clear, pure pool. A pool of love. The purest love there is.

Gassho,
CycleBuddhaDoc