There are many colorful Zen monks found in history, and one of my favorites is Ikkyū.  Ikkyū was born a bit over 500 years ago, probably the illegitimate son of the Emperor and a low ranking nobel woman.  That offered him at least some privilege and he was sent to a monastery and educated well.  Many monks would simply enjoy a comfortable monastic life, but Ikkyū genuinely wanted to learn ‘the truth’, the dharma.  And so, struck out for other monasteries to find teachers who could instruct him. He spent short periods at various monasteries, but found that they had nothing to teach him.  Finally, he did meet an advanced teacher who he studied with for several years.  Upon that teacher’s death, he struck out again and eventually met another advanced teacher who also taught him.

Ikkyū’s own level of enlightenment had grown, and one day, so legend has it, he heard the call of a crow and it sent him into a satori which earned him his enlightenment certificate.  Now, I suspect that enlightenment certificates are about as valuable as the paper they are written on, but, like a college degree today, it does indicate at least some level of achievement by the student.

Though very highly regarded at the monastery, Ikkyū’s teacher promoted another of his students to be the next head of the temple.  Ikkyū didn’t think much of his teacher’s replacement, regarding him as corrupt and not genuinely interested in Zen, and promptly moved out of the monastery, into the brothel across the street. He said something to the effect that it was nice to be around honest people for a change.  A scandal at the time, he saw no problem with his behavior, considering all things holy, including drinking and enjoying sex (let’s all have a round of applause for Ikkyū, thank-you, thank-you very much!).

He became an artist, renown for his sumi-e painting and calligraphy, a musician and composer for the shakuhachi as well a consummate poet.  There is a book of his poems entitled ‘A Crow with no Mouth’ (presumably the crow that prompted his satori).  Eventually, the head of the monastery where he last studied died (the guy he didn’t like much), and they begged him to come back as its head, which he did.  He soon enacted sweeping new policies to get rid of much of the corruption that had long been entrenched in the monastery.

Late in life, in his 80’s I believe, he fell in love with a blind girl in the village (60 years his junior) named Mori, and they made unabashed love in the fields on the outskirts of town.  Many of the poems he wrote of their intimacies can still make one blush today.  I can only imagine how scandalous they were back then.

Ikkyū is a perfect model of what ‘the truth’ is… it’s honest, it’s real, it’s in, and of, all things and in all experiences.  It doesn’t abide disingenuousness or corruption.  It is found in art, in music and in a loving embrace.

Jhovan Tomasevich, ex lider de labanda ZEN, nos recibió en su casa y nos habló sobre su álbum LA SEÑAL.

There is a very memorable Zen story ;

When a Zen master and a novice were sitting in the Temple,

a wind bell out side tinkled with very beautiful sound.

As both master and the novice were so deeply struck by

its sound,the Master asked novice Why.

The novice answered ” Since, both of hearts are calmed still “

(Nishin sizuka nareba nari) / (The heart of the listener and the

heart of the bell are both in the dead calm state, hence both are in harmony with the Dharma )

———– By this answer, the novice was ordained. ———-(Read this story tens or hundreds of times again )

This must be the most beautiful Zen episode among the rather harsh vigorous stories of them.

———– But in the same time, this story imposed me really awkward questions.

As all the Mahayana Mantras repeating, all the senses include hearing are the false.

And the self who is supposed to listening, is also false.  ——- Even if we take the explanation,which is,

the selflessness is in fact detached mind, —-? ? ?, in any view, this story is the contradiction.

————————

But, I definitely take and believe this story than 1000 of the words in the Mantras. This is the Zen.

How do you think ?

( Photo / From Frickr /  By Kamomebird /  Fuurin in Mino-town )

I heard a soft gong sound in the distance, once, then again, on the third ring my sleepy brain caught on to what was happening, it was 4:30 am and time to get up. I reach out for where the clock should be, unable to see in the dark and felt for the curve of the meditation timer. Not only was it dark it was cold, yuk. I was not into this, but it had to be done, and it was on me to do it, my Giri. My Chan brother had said, you must be special to be the one to help, I guess I replied, better to be the helper than the helpee ( a madeup word).

I was glad I went to bed on the early side to prepare for the trip, it was a beautiful sunset the night before. I was able to get a full night sleep, even though it was chilly in the morning once I got out from under the warmth of the down comforter, and away from the soft warm legs of the sleeping Lady Z, I was good to go.  I had time this morning for a short meditation before gathering myself and getting on the road to LA. Most of the trip down to LA was cold. I had disconnected the heater in the truck, due to the heater core leaking and I have not had the money to repaired. So therefore no heat until the sun came up and I reach a more moderate latitude. I was glad I took my gloves with me for the trip, a couple of sweaters and my jacket and hat. It was cold and the air vent being open did not help matters. One really is grateful for the warmth of the sun, after being in the cold of darkness. I mean this on a couple of levels…

My youngest brother was back in the hospital from the nursing home. I needed to go down and find out what was going on, not only at the hospital, also at the nursing home. We wanted him transferred at some point closer to family. For now I was the closest some 6-7 hour drive. I needed to know what was involved with that process and could it be done. Also his roommate is moving out of their Apt and I need to pack his stuff, music instruments, electronics, clothes, book whatever was there. There was some issues about back rent, what to do with his stuff, etc. At this point he could not even recall who I was, so getting an inventory was out of the question as well as asking what was important. I just had to go for it and hope that if he recovers I picked the right stuff.

It was weird going through my brother’s things and having to decide what to keep and what not to keep. It is unsure if he will recover and what he will be able to do when he does. Going through personal items, gathering data, sad and weird. This is what people do when a family member passes, but in this case he is still around…

I could not help but wonder about his karma to have this happening in his life, as well as mine being the one to have to do it. Him being the youngest and me being the eldest, yet, he is the one in the hospital most of the time lost in non-reality, and having a machine, for the most part keep him alive. Without being hooked up to it, three times a week, he would be gone. While packing and sorting, I think about the many faces of karma, the ripples in the force that both of our karma touch, the other lives as well as our own. Even now maybe his purpose is being filled or both of ours. The turns life takes, I come across some of his childhood pictures and think I never ever dreamt I would be doing this or he would be in this in this space. It also think… it could have been me. Living alone , the lone musician, still trying for a break, playing from time to time, writing, hoping…getting burnt out. Life is interesting, the turns, the twist, the hills and valleys. It can also be very scary. One needs to not only be strong, but I really see the need for some kind of faith, belief in a purpose, or be cold and Jaded, which is more of my lil bother’s path. He wanted so much not to get the family involved with his problems, but in the final stages, it is his family even with great distance between us, it is his family who has his back. His friends, did what they could, but as they fade…family. Of course, and sadly , that is not always the case, sometimes friends are there when family is not. Hmmm, maybe to do with the Karma of those around us, the compassion…we give and take. Some are not so lucky, blessed to have family or friends…

I am up until 3:00 am packing his stuff, some clothes, mostly stuff, he spent more on things, than clothes. Finally I sack out. Sat, will be loading the truck and I’ll see how all this will work.

The next day after 4 hours of sleep I am up packing the truck. I’m good at this and so a couple of hours later I have every thing, stuffed in everyplace that something can fit. I only ended up leaveing two boxes of stuff I had not planned on taking anyway, but was for the most part forced on me by the roommate. It was left for charity with the rest of the stuff. There were a few expendsive things that were missing, I am hoping his friend sold them at my brother request. Anyway, I did what needed to be done there at the Apt. The next stop was at the hospital.

I had brought along my Kyudo equipment hoping to get some Kyudo in while in town. However due to waiting , packing, waiting, waiting, travel that never happened. So around three in the afternoon, I had had it, and hit the road again.

Another long ride back north with the chill of winter creeping into the truck cab as I ride higher into LA mountains. I start adding layers of clothes as the sunsets off to my left and the road dims with shades of darkness. I pop a record cassette tape of my brothers favorite tunes from the 70 & 80 into the tape deck.  I reflect…life, what a long strange trip it is…I say a prayer for the suffering.

We should always live in the dark empty sky. The sky is always the sky. Even though the clouds and the lightning come, the sky is not disturbed. Even if the flashing of enlightenment comes, our practice forgets about it. Then it is ready for another enlightenment.

Shunryu Suzuki

The topics and post ideas continue to pile up, like doubloons in a chest… and life continues to intervene.

From Pico Iyer’s 2007 introduction to The Snow Leopard (1978):

The central feature of the practice of meditation and hard work known as Zen is that, as Mathiessen says, it “has no patience with ‘mysticism,’ far less the occult.” Nor does it have any time for moralism, the prescriptions or distortions we would impose on the world, obscuring it from our view. It asks, it insists rather, that we take this moment for what it is, undistracted, and not cloud it with needless worries of what might have been or fantasies of what might come to be. It is, essentially, a training in the real, what lies beyond our ideas (and they are only ideas) of good and bad. “The Universe itself is the scripture of Zen,” as Matthiessen puts it, and the discipline initiates its practitioners in the clear, unambiguous realization that what is, is; the world (enlightenment, happiness) is just that lammergeier in the sky, this piece of dung, that churning river, all of which have life and blood as our perceptions or ideas of them do not.

In that regard, The Snow Leopard records a journey into real life and into the life that lies on the far side of our notions, our ceaseless chatter. Up near the Crystal Mountain, creating a home-made meditation shelter for himself (he says earlier that sometimes he is pushed to do Zen practice just because it is so cold), Mathiessen enters at last a moment that seems to open up unendingly. “These hard rocks instruct my bones in what my brain could never grasp.”

I just happened to realize another one of my clues of love: Where you see your individual fears and regrets being scattered away by your shared hopes and happiness, there you can find love.

I think that’s a good pointer to all kinds of love, especially friends or even among strangers with whom we resonate.

Just wanted to take a moment to share.

As the sun’s heated rays make my eyes flinch,

I struggle to see a quaint older couple ride thier bike in the quick bliss of the park,

As I look ahead I can only feel the emotional reservoir full of the sights I see in the distance…..

A beautiful meadow three quarters covered in snow of indifference.

The tall invincible skyscrapers seem like an all powerful force consumes them

The wind blows thru my mind with a message of  contemplation and hope.

The limbs of the trees are bare but have  much potential to sprout the leaves of love and lore that have calmed these fabled stories forever.

Thus we must always share with ourselves these items we take for granted…..I wonder what this world would be for thinkers without the park. – Kevin Toliver-Lyons

Porque a veces, aunque sea temprano, las legañas peguen mis pestañas, el estómago esté revuelto o esté de mal humor…merece la pena madrugar

Eines Tags ging der berühmte Schwertkämpfer und Zenanhänger Tesshu zu Dukuon und berichtete triumphierend, er glaube, das alles was existiert, leer ist, es weder du noch ich gibt, usw.

Der Meister hörte schweigend zu, bis er plötzlich eine lange Tabakpfeife ergriff und Tesshu auf den Kopf schlug.

Der erzürnte Samurai hätte den Meister auf der Stelle getötet, doch Dukuon sagte ruhig: “Die Leere ist schnell dabei, Ärger zu zeigen, nicht wahr?”

Mit einem gezwungenem Lächeln verließ Tesshu den Raum.

.

Bene.
Finito – o quasi – di traslocare…
Finito – o quasi – di fare la spola tra Torino e Urbino…
Finito – o quasi – di allestire la Mostra di Grafica Giapponese per gennaio 2010…
Superate le malinconie e lo stress da trasloco…

Considerando che il previsto corso sul Taoismo, seconda edizione, è saltato per mancanza di studenti (ma chissà che in primavera…), mi pare il caso di cominciare a mettere giù un po’ di materiale per il corso di Cultura Zen, il cui inizio è ancora previsto per il 26 di gennaio 2010.
A breve metterò in piedi anche una pagina di supporto, come quella preparata per il rimandato corso sul Tao.

Comincio col segnalare un paio di testi consigliati.
Consigliati, badate bene, non obbligatori – qui di obbligatorio non c’è nulla.

Sullo zen si è pubblicato a carrettate e gli scaffali delle librerie gemono sotto al peso di testi dall’utilità piuttosto dubbia.
Scopro ad esempio il recentissimo “L’ arte zen della direzione aziendale. La pratica del mind management per l’eccellenza delle risorse umane”, e non nascondo una certa perplessità, mista ad un certo divertimento.
Meglio restare aderenti al vecchio principio di consigliare libri poco costosi e ben scritti, possibilmente tascabili.

Il testo ideale sarebbe La Cultura Zen, di Thomas Hoover, pubblicato una ventina d’anni or sono da Mondadori negli Oscar ed apparentemente non più disponibile.
Un vero peccato.

Non mancano comunque le alternative…

Alan W. Watts, Lo Zen, edito da Bompiani, è ingannevolmente esile e si può acquistare per meno di cinque euro. Offre una buona panoramica sulla storia e sulla pratica dello zen.

Altrettanto facilmente disponibile è La Via dello Zen, sempre di Watts, probabilmente il testo di riferimento in tascabile per ciò che riguarda lo zen. Lo pubblica Feltrinelli e viaggia ben al di sotto dei dieci euro.
Non è proprio una lettura leggerissima, ma in mancanza del testo di Hoover, questo è in assoluto il meglio offerto dal mercato a questo livello.

Vale la pena di menzionare il volume del Dizionario delle Religioni della Electa dedicato allo Zen.
Due i gravi “difetti” di questo splendido volume – il primo è il prezzo (22 euro), il secondo è il taglio decisamente troppo religioso del materiale presentato.
Ma vista la collana…
Per il resto, come già detto in passato, libro bellissimo, con un sacco di splendide illustrazioni, vale davvero la pena.

Per i più avventurosi, due titoli come extra.
Un Fiore non Parla, di Zenkei Shibayama è una bella collezione di saggi sullo zen, forse un po’ meno paludati dei classici saggi di D.T. Suzuki, e a gennaio ruberemo a man bassa da queste pagine. Pubblicato da Oscar Mondadori nel 1999, dovrebbe essere ancora relativamente facile da reperire (chissà).
Per chi volesse invece gettare ogni indugio al vento e saltare a pié pari la teoria, La Via senza Testa, Lo Zen e la riscoperta dell’ovvio, di Douglas Harding, pubblicato da Astrolabio, è una scelta quasi obbligata.
Neanche 100 pagine, scritto con stile divertito, questo rimane un testo per i più coraggiosi.
Ma non manca di ripagare lo sforzo di leggerlo.

Prossimamente – una carrellata sulle risorse online.

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Here’s a gold pen

Hope it lies open

Hope it lies openly

And when what lies beneath

Surely is.

Surfaces.

And one (And all) will know more, bequeathed

What surely is.

explore then expose then espouse/pungent scents  of../off on tangent hints of../resurgent urgent urges of

essence

„ Sucht ihr es,

entfernt es sich –

verlangt ihr danach,

verdirbts“

Linji