Living Enlightenment, Here and Now
[This text was first published in The Diamond Sword, a collection of talks by Kongo Roshi, Zen Buddhist Temple of Chicago, first edition 1987, second edition 1992, pp 19-23.]
Although this is the observance of Obon, time when we pay our respects to our ancestors, friends, and relatives who have passed away, it should not be a time of sorrow. We owe much to our ancestors - for our relationship with them, and for all that we have learned from them.
When I opened the ceremony this morning, I opened with a poem by a Chinese lay practitioner, Layman P'ang:
"The past is already past. Don't try to regain it!
The present doesn't stay.
Don't try to touch it from moment to moment!
The future has not yet come,
Don't think about it beforehand!"
Simple lines, yet most profound. We could well accept these as a standard for living. Layman P'ang is a most remarkable figure in the history of Zen. He never did become a Zen priest, but remained a layman throughout his life together with his wife and daughter. He was always a very devout Zen Buddhist, and when he was approximately fifty years old, he decided to cut all ties with the material world. He took all his possessions, put them into a boat, and sank them. From that moment on, he, his wife, and daughter led a completely Zen life.
When I first read this story I was greatly impressed. I thought to myself: "This is the way to do it!" I almost imitated him. Then when I thought of packing all my belongings into a small Mustang and driving it into Lake Michigan, I thought: "No." It's such a small car that it would take at least two carloads alone for my son's books. The way of Layman P'ang is not for me. No boats or cars in the ocean.
"The past is already past. Don't try to regain it!" The past is full of ghosts. How often do we try to regain these ghosts? How often do we try to make them a part of the present? We're constantly vacillating between the past and the future, passing through the present, never actually living in the present.
Many people have asked me what the significance is of the hossu, which I am holding in my hand. It is a flywhisk, but in Zen, it has a very special meaning. It is a whisk, but it is used to swish away the many delusive thoughts that are constantly chasing us.
"The past is already past. Don't try to regain it!" So often we reflect upon the past, on how things used to be. You know the saying: "The good old days"? What good old days? "The past is already past!" There aren't any good old days. These are the good old days right here. "Nichi nichi kore kojitsu." Every day is a good day. Every day is a fortunate day. "The past is already past!" This is applicable in our zazen practice. So often when I talk to people they remark that they've had a good meditation on such-and-such a day at such-and-such a time. As soon as you say these words, you're caught in your own trap. You're trying to regain, you're trying to relive something - but that is impossible to do. And so we carry around these weird, wild, demented fantasies concerning the past. And, as time goes on, we find it more and more difficult to shake them off.
"The present doesn't stay!" is the next line. "Don't try to touch it from moment to moment!" Again, don't we find ourselves doing this very same thing? We're always latching on, holding on, grasping, because of a lack of security, because of a lack of confidence that everything's okay. We don't realize, unfortunately, that everything IS OK. It's not necessary to grab, to attach to the present.
"The present doesn't stay. Don't try to touch it from moment to moment!" Always we're watching ourselves. Always we're adjusting ourselves from moment to moment, trying to grasp the immediate present, not realizing that by letting go, there it is! Again, this is applicable in our zazen practice. Don't try to do anything. How often you've heard me say that in your zazen practice don't try; just do, just be. You can't try to be immediate. That's a joke! It's a sad joke. Sad because we insist upon continuing in this way, not realizing that if we just continue with our zazen practice, put our whole being into it, find that center of gravity within our being and rest there, that we're automatically in the present. But for some of us this isn't good enough. We'll continue to try to touch the present from moment to moment.
"The future has not yet come. Don't think about it beforehand!" This is probably the line that plagues us most. How often are we living in tomorrow? How often are we plagued by tomorrow? What's coming? What will tomorrow bring? And all the time the present is rolling on. Only the human being does this; how unique we are in that respect. Only the human being can be carried away by the past, present and future, never allowing the present just to be. Within your zazen practice you will find the way. Each and every one of us must find our own immediate reality. Each one of us must come to realize where our "now" is because most of the time we are living in a world of "ought": we ought to be here; we ought to do this; this ought to be. And again, the present is very softly, very quietly rolling on. The years roll by and still we live in the land of ought. Find out where your own immediate reality is through the practice of zazen.
I was glancing through a book the other day written by a Zen Buddhist priest and he didn't refer to Buddhism as a religion. He referred to the religion of zazen. This is a very odd statement for a Zen Buddhist priest to make. What does he mean by speaking of zazen as a religion? He's telling about humanity's relationship to the universe in our everyday life. Then zazen is indeed a religion. But so many of us use zazen like a toy. Let's stop playing with it. Let's stop being Zen dilettantes. We're constantly nibbling and nibbling and nibbling away at our zazen practice, never really taking it seriously. We think about Zen philosophy. We think: "Oh, we're Zen Buddhists!" Reality does not live in thought. You can think and think and think but you won't think yourself into reality. Reality must be found within your being through the practice of zazen. Make zazen a living force in your life. Allow it to happen. You have the tools. All you need - each one of you - is right here with you, within yourselves, within your body and mind. This is all that's required in zazen. So find the reality of life within yourself, for you won't find it in all the books you read. Let's stop making zazen into something distant, something over there, the practice we know we ought to do. We must put ourselves into it with body and bones and soul.
Let's keep Layman P'ang's admonition in mind:
"The past is already past. Don't try to regain it!
The present doesn't stay.
Don't try to touch if from moment to moment!
The future has not yet come,
Don't think about it beforehand!"
Wake up! Carry your own flywhisk. Wake yourself up constantly, perpetually to the reality of the present. Stop wandering in the three worlds of the past, the present and the future. Be now!