Teaching

True Self, Authentic Self

Zen Master Bon Seong in Singapore

This talk is inspired by the life of Zen Master Seung Sahn. Through his teachings and his action he was a consistent example of authenticity. Being with him would shake the foundations of my “I, my, me” mind. Things would feel surreal; my usual evaluation and control would loosen. In it’s place would appear spontaneity and humor. He showed me how one can be committed to a vow of service to the world while at the same time completely enjoying the moment. His teaching expressed spontaneity, a moment centered life lived with the purpose of attaining true self and helping this world.

He did not push us to understand the sutras, or be experts (as he was) in the Buddha’s teaching. Rather he pushed us to attain the Buddha’s mind which means to understand our true selves and manifest it in a way that helps others. About three years before I received Inka, authorization to teach, a group of us were out to lunch with Zen Master Seung Sahn. My brother asked him: when will Jeff become a teacher. He replied: “When he learns how to eat noodles.”

This poem to me expresses the heart of his teaching.

ORIGINAL FACE
--Zen Master Seung Sahn

Your true self is always shining and free
Human beings make something and enter the ocean of suffering
Only without thinking can you return to your true self
The high mountain is always blue,white clouds coming and going

When Shakyamuni Buddha had his big awakening, he was gazing at the Eastern star. In that moment he completely realized that he and the universe were one thing. Even to say one thing takes away from the completeness of the experience. His experience was complete, no trace of I. He realized that not only were he and the universe one, but that it was true for all beings, all of us . Zen Master Mang Gong’s famous calligraphy states “The whole world is a single flower.” Just as a flower is made up of stem and petals, pistil and roots, so is the complete universe made up of parts which are themselves complete.

Your true self is always shining and free.

You are already complete. Hui Neng, the 6th Patriarch, said: You should know that so far as Buddha-nature is concerned, there is no difference between an enlightened man and an ignorant one. What makes the difference is that one realizes it, while the other is ignorant of it. The Buddha’s teaching says, without cultivation you are already complete. Our authentic, real self needs no cultivation. True self is always shining and free whether we are aware of it or not. Our task, our practice, is to become aware and to actualize our true self, to be it in this very moment.

Zen is not about self improvement. We don’t strive to become something, or to overcome our deficiencies. We practice to allow the natural, authentic unfolding of buddha-nature to manifest. Our effort is about clearing away delusion and ignorance. This means getting out of our own way, allowing this magnificence, this authentic true self to manifest. In this way healing and world peace are not an impossible distant dream, but exist right now, right here in this very moment.

Human beings make something and enter the ocean of suffering

Our true self may indeed always be shining and free but most of the time we experience painful difficulties in our lives. We are constantly dissatisfied with the ways things are. The Buddha said that we suffer because either we don’t have what we want or we are afraid of losing what we do have. Moment to moment we struggle to control and force the world to fit into the mold of our desires. That is what Zen Master Seung Sahn is pointing to when he says that human beings make something.

Listen to this sound (hit). Each of us hears this sound. Before thinking we can recognize it for what it is. Just (hit). But some of us don’t like that sound: “Why did he hit the table so hard”. Or some of us really liked it: “That is so great, I really could get the deep meaning of that sound.” Either way we are making something. The sound itself is just as it is. How I feel about it is making something. This making something creates likes and dislikes. Then, as the Buddha said, if I don’t get what I want I suffer. If I do get what I want then I am afraid I might loose it. Or, I might like this sound, but the next sound might hurt my ears and I won’t like it. We are perpetually at odds with and trying to control our reality.

In Buddhism we talk about the Three Poisons--greed, aversion and delusion. These three poisons point to the way we make something and enter the ocean of suffering. Can you recognize them in your own life? Can you see how your desire for things, or rejection of things color your perceptions and actions in the world? Can you admit to the inauthenticity of your actions driven by these three poisons?

The first poison is greed or desire. I want, I need, give it to me, please, please please I really want it. I need to get it and I need to figure out a way to get it. Maybe I can just take it. I know it is yours, but I need it more than you. And anyway, my needs are more important than yours. I’m even willing to fabricate a story in order to get what I want. And I will repeat this story over and over until I finally believe it--mostly.

Greed interrupts the natural flow of things. Adding my desire into the equation of life, trying to change or alter the way things are to bring me satisfaction, ultimately leads to suffering.

Aversion or hatred is the second poison. Aversion is essentially rejection. Get that thing away from me. Hatred and averision arise in response to something we don’t like or want to happen to us. It often leads us to push away, at worst culminating in violence. Hatred and anger can overwhelm us, causing us to act in inauthentic ways in order to get relief from these feelings. The natural,authentic flow of life is rejected and more suffering is the result.

The third poison is ignorance or delusion. This poison follows directly from the other two. Our greed and anger force us to act inauthentically and loose contact with the original, natural flow of things. This inevitably leads to a sense of separation. To live with that separation I make up a story or narrative to explain who I am and why my greed and anger are justified. More and more true self is lost and I live in the dream of my narrative. This is fundamental delusion. The more contrived our delusion is the more we suffer. The more rigid we become trying to justify and bolster our story, the more we suffer, and the more we cause suffering for those around us. This “making” of likes and dislikes, good and bad, right and wrong, leads us father and father away from an authentic, natural unfolding of our lives.

Only without thinking can we return to our true self.

Without thinking means before thinking, or not attaching to thinking. Seeing things as they are, not how we would like them to be. Decartes said “I think therefore I am”. A Zen student asks: “If I don’t think, then what?”

Before thinking is easy to talk about but difficult practice. Our desire, anger and ignorance are so powerful, so encompassing and solid that we don’t even recognize their impact. Many people who first hear about before thinking find it absurd. Others feel that it is impossible to not attach to their thinking.

This leads us to the realm of Zen practice. Though our delusion seems enormous and our suffering feels so daunting and profound, Zen practice offers us a way to deconstruct our delusion. We can live a more centered and grounded life, in order to work with our desire and anger, so that we can reconnect with that authentic natural self which is always shining and free.

Quiet the mind. Breathe gently and deeply in and out. Observe what is happening just now. Find your balance point where desire and anger don’t control you. Allow your actions in life to come from this place and mindfully pay attention to the results. This is true Zen practice.

From the Chinese and Korean Zen tradition we learn that it takes three things to practice Zen--Great Question, Great Courage and Great Faith. These three greats form the foundation of practice. Together they show us a path, a way to live which will bring us into more alignment with what is natural, authentic and true. In this way we can find our true self and help this world.

Great question is the first of the three greats. Great question means asking the question: “What am I” and “what is this”. Asking these great questions bring our meditation and mindfulness alive. As we sit in meditation, these questions brings energy and focus to our silent work. Mindfully asking these questions as we go about our everyday lives offers a way to bring our meditation out of the Dharma Hall. What is actually happening right now? What do I feel and think about it all? How are my thoughts and feelings coloring my view of what is happenning right now?

Moment to moment we are called upon to respond to all sorts of situations and conditions. How clearly can we really see what is going on? As was said in the discussion about making something, usually our view of the moment is colored by the three poisons. Using Great Question as a focus of our Zen practice, we can begin to observe the moment more honestly, more free of the biases of our desire, anger and delusion. As we let go of our biases, we can experience our lives more directly and honestly. We use these questions to clarify our life.

Great courage is the second great. Great courage means to make a great effort, whether the moment is difficult or easy. This effort is critical to Zen Practice because our delusion is so strong. Life is very uncertain and we are very vulnerable. We cling strongly to our own delusion to protect us from these risks and uncertainties. In our Zen practice we need to push beyond what is comfortable. This is one of the important lessons we learn on a meditation retreat. Much of the time during retreat we are unhappy and want it to end. Just making it through helps us build a stronger center. We need to become better able to observe our desire and anger without losing ourselves in them. I may want something, but by applying great effort , I may not need to satisfy my desire. I may be angry, but I may not need to strike out. I can watch it, observe it and not act on it. We need great courage to honestly face our feelings and thoughts as they are, so as not to be lead astray by them.

Great faith leads us back to the true self which is always shining and free. We believe in our true self, in the authentic unfolding of life. This is not about believing in something outside ourselves. We are the universe, the universe is us! As we begin to see the falseness of our own delusion we can begin to experience directly the completeness and authenticity of this moment. We can have faith in our own experience. While standing in the rain, we get wet. It is possible to believe our own senses, untainted by the three poisons. Listen to the wind. Hear it and appreciate it for what it is. Feel it on your face and you experience truth.

These three greats, practiced moment to moment, grounded in meditation and mindfulness, offer us all an active and dynamic way to practice Zen. They help us actually relax the tight grip of our feelings and thinking and return us to our true self.

The high mountain is always blue, white clouds coming and going

Here we return the realm of the natural unfolding of the universe. The mountain itself is always blue, whether we realize it or not, whether we like it or not. The clouds coming and going do not bother the mountain. In fact, they coexist peacefully. The mountain helps the clouds form and the clouds give moisture to the mountain. In the same way our struggles and triumphs nourish our awakening.

In the Tibetan Buddhist tradition, enlightenment is depicted as a two headed dragon of wisdom and compassion. In a moment of centered authenticity, wisdom and compassion appear. We have the clarity to see things as they are and the courage to open our heart. We naturally treat the world and the things in it with love and compassion and are concerned about others, not only about ourselves.

Authenticity is the path to peace and healing. Don’t try to be someone other than yourself. Allow your Zen practice to help you listen deeply to your true self-your deepest and most authentic expression of the buddha’s mind. There are 86,400 seconds in one day. Imagine how many experiences we live in all these seconds. How will we live them? Will we remain lost in the dream created by the Three Poisons, or will we wake up to this moments magnificent unfolding of Buddha nature?

Happy Buddha's Birthday

by Zen Master Bon Soeng

When Buddha was born, he sprang out of his mother's hip, walked seven steps, said, "Heaven above, earth below, only I am holy."

[hits table with zen stick]

When you and I were born, we sprung from our mother's uterus, dropped into the doctor's arms, and screamed, "WAAAAAAAAH!"

[hits table with zen stick]

Are Buddha and you the same or different?

KATZ!

The Buddha is wearing gold; Kwan Um Zen students wear grey.

Happy Buddha's Birthday, everyone.

I'd like to take a look at the story of the Buddha from an unusual angle. The Buddha was born a prince in a kingdom in India. His father, the king, decided that, to make him a really great king, he would have to pretend that there was no suffering, old age, sickness, or death in the realm. The amount of deception and lying that had to be maintained to shelter the Buddha from all of this must have been incredible.

The Buddha couldn't know that people got hurt. He couldn't know that people didn't have enough to eat. He couldn't know that they succumbed to illness. What happened, then, when the Buddha played with his friends on an elephant and one of them fell off and got hurt? How did they hide that from him? How did they conceal the fact that his grandparents died? How did they hide the fact that his elderly uncles and aunts got sick and died?

In short, the Buddha spent the first twenty-odd years of his life in total ignorance. And this total ignorance was supposed to make him a great king. How does ignorance make someone a great king? Really, the whole idea that deception and falsehood would make a great king seems quite absurd.

As the story of the Buddha unfolds, we learn that one day he noticed somebody suffering. He noticed sickness. He noticed old age and he saw a corpse. With that his whole world exploded. Everything that he had believed about life was wrong. All of the things he was taught, all of his ideas, everything, was wrong. It was all made up -- a man-made illusion. It's no wonder that when he finally attained his true self, the Buddha decided that his path would be based on truth, because he had been lied to his whole life.

If you think about it, our own stories are no different than the Buddha's. We also grow up being lied to -- however well-intentioned the lies are. We are also brought into this world in a very narrow corner of the universe. Each of us has our own different situation that we're born into. But when we're born, our parents, relatives and teachers begin a subtle process of deceiving us, telling us half-truths and lies, for the purpose of making us what they call "good citizens."

When young, how many of us had a relative die and our parents didn't tell us? One summer my grandmother died while my brother and I were in summer camp. My parents called and told me to come home to the funeral, but told me not to tell my younger brother where I was going because they were afraid it would hurt him too much.

We go to school and the socialization process starts to make us into "good citizens." So sometimes a very subtle, and at other times, a very unsubtle process happens. We're molded, pushed to become a certain way. Often, we willingly buy into this process. We desperately want to be accepted. We want friends, we want love, we want so many things so badly that we're willing to sacrifice our own perceptions in order to win love and approval. We begin to realize that when we act in certain ways we elicit a smile from someone who is important to us. We conclude: "Oh, I'll do that again. This is great. I do this, and I get a hug. I do that and I'm liked. I do this and I'm accepted." We really are very smart. We look around, see what works for us, what we think works for us. So, just like the Buddha, we grow up in an environment where we're lied to and told half-truths. We really don't know anything.

How did the Buddha react when he discovered that his life had been a sham, a charade? He said, "Holy shit! I gotta get out of here! This is crazy!" So he left. He left his wife, he left his child, he left the opportunity to be a king and all the wealth you could imagine, in order to find his true self.

But Buddha isn't the only one who has that kind of experience. All of us sitting here have had similar experiences. For me, I was fifteen and in my sophomore year in a high school English class. I had a young teacher at the time who must have been twenty-two or twenty-three years old. She decided we would study poetry by bringing in lyrics from rock 'n roll songs. This was 1968. She believed we could learn poetry this way. It was a great idea.

I was a bit conservative at the time, and I liked Simon and Garfunkel, so I brought in one of their songs. I presented it in class and we talked about it and everything went well. Somebody else brought in the song, "Hey Jude" by the Beatles. We read the song and the teacher said, "OK, great. What's it about?" I liked to talk in class so I raised my hand and I said, "It's about love, it's about a person wanting somebody, and that kind of thing." In the back of the room was a guy with long, red hair who raised his hand and said, "Nunh hunh. It's not about that." He said, "It's about shooting heroin." He went through the whole song, line-by-line, and showed how it was all about shooting heroin in your arm.

That guy totally blew my mind. I realized that the world wasn't necessarily the way I thought it was. All of the beliefs and ideas and everything else that I had were just a creation. They weren't really true. So great doubt appeared for me like it did for the Buddha.

In our Zen tradition, we have the story of Dok Sahn, who was a sutra master in northern China. He had heard about the Zen practitioners in southern China who sat all day long facing the wall and did nothing. He said, "This is crazy! They're not studying sutras. How do they expect to get enlightenment?" Dok Sahn was so sure of himself that he knew he had to personally go and teach these monks the true way. Apparently, he was a very famous sutra master and had some standing in the Buddhist community.

He walks hundreds of miles to go teach these crazy Zen monks a lesson. As he approaches the first monastery, Dok Sahn stops at a tea house and encounters the woman who runs it. She sees him carrying a bundle of books and says, "Oh, what's in that bundle?" The sutra master replies, "That's the Diamond Sutra. I am a great Diamond Sutra master. I am going to teach these monks a lesson. They'll learn the Diamond Sutra, then they'll understand the true way."

So the tea house woman says, "That's very interesting. But I have a question for you. If you can answer this question, you can have your lunch for free. If you can't answer, you have no lunch." Dok Sahn was very prideful so he responded: "I can answer any question about the Diamond Sutra. I know it all." "I already understand," the sutra master boasts. "OK, you ask me. No problem."

The tea house woman says, "In the Diamond Sutra it says, 'Past mind can't get enlightenment, present mind can't get enlightenment, future mind can't get enlightenment. 'With what kind of mind will you eat your lunch?" The sutra master was stumped.

Dok Sahn couldn't answer at all. Suddenly, this great question appeared: "What is this? I don't understand everything." Just like the Buddha, who realized that his whole life had been a lie. just like me sitting in that classroom, realizing I didn't know what was going on.

Reaching this point is very important in our practice. Because it's at such a moment we truly understand don't know mind. We truly realize great doubt. What is this? If we're really honest, and truly practice, we are able to hold great doubt. We don't hold it like an idea, but as a direction in our life. "I don't understand. What is this?" Not knowing is the heart of our kong-an practice. 'What is this?" Who is it that thinks they know everything? We're all crazy. Why? Because we hold so tightly onto our opinions, our ideas, our feelings, our desires, our anger, trying to hang onto a little bit of security in this very insecure world.

With his great question, the Buddha went off and pursued every spiritual practice that was around at the time. All of them had one major problem: They all believed something. As his practice deepened, he realized that all belief systems were limited. "That's not the way," he decided. "If you believe anything, already you have lost the way."

Eventually, the Buddha just sat down. He sat down for six years. Breathing in, breathing out. What am I? One morning he saw the morning star [claps] and realized great enlightenment. What did he see? What do you see in front of you right now? Is that great enlightenment?

The Buddha taught us that everything is already enlightened. Everything is already complete just as it is now. So, like him, we have to use this great question and deep practice of breathing in and breathing out to let go of our ideas, our opinions, our situation -- everything.

Breathing in and breathing out. Only let go. Then when everything disappears, the truth is right in front of us. We already have it. It's already all around us. Why make something more? That's the truth of our way. So, any idea, any belief, any understanding, throw it away, open your eyes, and perceive.

Then we say, helping all beings is possible. If you cling to your idea or your belief, helping all beings is not possible. It's tainted by a fixed idea. So, in Zen we say, throw away all ideas, perceive this situation as it is and correct action becomes possible. The correct way is very clear. But, if we cling to something, we lose it.

I'd like to end with a poem written by a very great Zen Master. It's a poem that I use to begin a Yong Maeng Jong Jin. The poem, called "Original Face," is by Zen Master Seung Sahn:

Your true self is always shining and free.
Human beings make something, and enter the ocean of suffering.
Only without thinking can you return to your true self.
The mountain is always blue.
White clouds coming and going.

Thank you very much.

Psychotherapy and Zen

by Zen Master Bon Soeng

Excerpted from a workshop at the 5th Whole World is a Single Flower Conference held at Providence Zen Center in October 1999.

This is the workshop on Zen and psychotherapy. First of all, be aware that this is about Zen and psychotherapy, it's not about Zen and psychology. There is a difference. I'm not approaching this from a perspective of human psychology. I would like to look at the process of psychotherapy and its relationship to Zen. The question is how Zen impacts the process of looking at and working with your karma. Zen and psychotherapy are both about this process, so in a sense they are not very different. If you are a Zen student, everything you do is Zen. So, we can look at this question from two perspectives: how does a Zen practitioner who is a therapist use their Zen practice in their therapy? And, as a psychotherapy client, how do you use your practice to deepen your psychotherapy?

As a therapist, you have to stay present and in the moment. You need to be able to get out of the way to let the process happen. I think the most important perspective which relates Zen to psychotherapy is to view the person you're working with as the Buddha himself. That implies not sticking someone into some narrow classification, but looking to see who the person really is. You can use diagnosis as a tool, but always be careful not to box the client into some idea of who she or he is. When people ask me what my technique is I say, "what I do best is listen well." I try to listen deeply for who the person truly is. Everyone who comes into therapy has some problem or some situation that they want to talk about. The first thing you do is to find out what that situation or problem is. The more you explore, the more you find out what got hurt and what needs to heal for a more natural expression of true nature. In a sense, psychotherapy is about untying the knot of karma and finding the more natural self, finding authenticity.

Zen teaches us that attachment to our thinking is the root of our suffering. Much of our lives we are stuck in and act out of rigid and repeating patterns of thoughts and feelings. So, to find simple ways to interrupt these patterns, even for a moment, can be very helpful. Most people aren't even aware of what their minds are doing. I usually start off a session with five minutes of meditation. Sometimes that seems to be the most important thing that happens during the whole hour, especially for someone who doesn't have a regular sitting practice. Just teaching clients a little meditation and giving them a feeling for what goes on in their minds can be an incredible eye-opener for them. I can't tell you how many people say to me, "I love this five minutes of meditation we do here."

As a client, you have to find a way to express yourself and to get to know yourself better. If you're a Zen student and you're a client in psychotherapy, an important tool you have to find out about yourself is practice. Mindfulness and breath are wonderful tools for calming the mind and working with a problem. I often suggest to people I'm working with to watch their breath as a way of returning to the present. I'll suggest that they do walking meditation when they go from their desk at work to the bathroom or the water cooler. We all have our breath to return to when we get overwhelmed; just breathe in, just breathe out, just feel your body for ten breaths. Breath can help contain feelings which seem out of control. If we can return to the breath, we may not need to react so fast; there's some space. That's also part of what we're learning when we're sitting in the dharma room. Thoughts and feelings come up but we don't have to do anything about them--we can contain them with the breath. The breath can cut the chain of thinking.

Student: I find that the stronger my psychotherapy or analysis got, the weaker my Zen practice became. The one replaced the other... like it wasn't necessary because the therapeutic process was so strong.

Kitzes PSN: OK, I can't argue with your experience. It seems to me, though, the more you stay with your practice while in psychotherapy the deeper the psychotherapy becomes. Practice can give you access to so much more than just thinking. If you just stay in a "psychotherapeutic mind set," you may get attached to your ideas. The process of breathing and witnessing allows you to see your attachments. This will increase what you can do within a therapeutic framework. Remember, in Zen meditation we're not really trying to explore something, we're working with don't know mind and letting everything be. Psychotherapeutically, you're looking to explore something--so, they're two different things.

Student: I'm in a psychology program that emphasizes not knowing as a therapist, but what then differentiates good therapy from bad therapy?

KPSN: Keep a don't know mind and you'll find out! If you have an idea about it, you'll never find out. I remember last week I had a session with somebody that was terrible--I was off... I just didn't feel connected. But, when they came back the next week they raved about what a great session we had had the previous week. You just don't know! There are all sorts of processes going on that I may not be aware of. This is also true for the client. They may realize something important that happened in a session many days later.

I don't think you have to worry too much about whether you're doing good therapy. As a therapist, your job is to be present and authentic and then let the process take care of itself. Give the client that you're working with the space to go where they need to go. You may say, "I think we need to look at this," but once you start looking at it, give them enough room to find out what's true for them. Suzuki Roshi said, and I'm paraphrasing here, "A really good shepherd gives his sheep as big a pasture as possible, and then he watches. If you don't watch, you're a lousy shepherd because you will lose your sheep. But if you pay attention you will let them be and you won't lose them." You don't try to control the situation, you let the situation teach you. Thank you very much for your attention and good questions.