Sunday October 11th, 2020
Personal Practice and Karate Class Summary
This past week I practiced “meditation week.” I meditated most days. Last Monday, however, I made up for missing push-ups, sit-ups and squats the previous Friday. I’m still either running or jumping rope every other day during the week. Honestly I prefer the treadmill to the jump rope. This means I need to do more jump rope sessions.
On non-cardio days, I still get out and walk in the neighborhood. Despite the pandemic, my Burbank neighbors have continued our Halloween tradition with creative and humorous local displays.
Last Tuesday, Sensei R taught a Tai Chi class. It was both challenging and relaxing. Friday night, N taught, and her class was surprisingly challenging: she held “contests,” to see how long we could balance on one leg, or hold a plank, or to see who was most flexible. N herself won for balance; I managed to hold the longest plank, though DJ really made me work for it, and young CF handily won the flexibility title. Rounding out the week, Senpai SL, our “weapons specialist,” taught bo staff. I had thought I was pretty good at bo staff, until I witnessed Senpai SL perform flowers and figure eights with two staves at once! He taught a great workshop: my aching shoulders bore witness to the value of the class for fitness.
Zen’s Denigration of Scholarship for Enlightenment
I’m still reading Zen Flesh, Zen Bones. Currently, I’m in the older portion, the Gateless Gate or the Mumonkan. The treatment of language is an on-going theme. Several stories illustrate the inadequacy of language to bring a monk to enlightenment. I’ve come across at least two examples of monks destroying writings. In an earlier post, I wrote about my feelings on this. One monk destroyed a work written by generations of others [pg. 108] while another, his own writing [206]. Language and reason hamper the monk’s progress in these stories.
How ironic, given the elegance of the stories themselves! In fact, Mumon ends each of his treatises with a poem. What a conundrum! We know about Mumon, his scholarship and poetry through his writing. Moreover, much of Zen’s reach outside of monasteries today results from these beautiful writings and similar works.
Zen’s debt to the written word and poetry is embedded in the earliest introduction of Buddhism to China. According to Wikipedia, An Shigao, an Indian Buddhist monk who settled in Luoyang, first taught Buddhism there.* He translated a set of ancient Buddhist texts on meditation into Chinese. So, at the birth of Ch’an/Zen in China, we already have scholarship in the form of translation. Buddhism entered China with language, writing and its logical traps.
* This is an oversimplification: he’s the first known translator of Indian Buddhist texts into Chinese; we do not know if there were others.
Enlightenment, Language and Fire
In “Blow out the Candle,” Tokusan, a student, attains enlightenment after Ryutan, his teacher, offers him a candle. It was night, and Tokusan planned to walk home. As soon as Tokusan takes it, Ryutan blows it out. The next day, Ryutan praises Tokusan; Tokusan burns his writings and leaves the monastery, presumably to teach elsewhere.
Mumon’s commentary includes a second story about Tokusan. When he arrives in the area near Ryutan’s monastery, he comes with a thick commentary. The Southerners, he believes, need instruction on the sutras. He happens upon an old woman. She asks him what he carries that is so heavy. He tells her it is his commentary on the Diamond Sutra.
She observes: “I read that Sutra, which says: ‘the past mind cannot be held, the present mind cannot be held, the future mind cannot be held.’ You wish some tea and refreshments. Which mind do you propose to use for them?” [Zen Flesh, Zen Bones, “Gateless Gate,” page 207] This encounter humbles Tokusan. He asks her for a teacher. She directs him to Ryutan. So, Tokusan begins his search when he encounters this woman. She summarizes years’ worth of scholarship the Diamond Sutra in a single sentence and an offer of tea. He ends his search by burning his own commentary, that symbol of mental entanglement.
Mumon’s Flaire and an Old Woman’s Tea
Fire as a transformative force figures prominently in these stories: the burning candle, suddenly out, plunges both teacher and pupil into the stark reality of night. Tokusan’s flaming commentary, even the old woman’s cooking fire, are metaphors for enlightenment. Enlightenment burns suddenly. It is only understood through experience.
But the poet Mumon attributes Tokusan’s entrance to the path of Enlightenment to the simple words and logic of an old village woman. Perhaps the real story here is that language, logic and learning points the way, until it doesn’t. Some concepts can be understood and studied. Others must be experienced. How do we know the difference? By observing what’s useful.
Personally I like the fact that Mumon evokes this old village woman: he shows we do not have to be monks living in monasteries to experience enlightenment. We can also be old village women who read sutras on occasion, but also brew tea and bake treats. Tokusan owes as much to her as to Ryutan.
Zoom Dinnertime Conversation on Belief, Education and Experience
Interestingly enough, we had dinner over Zoom with a good friend, G., who edited a local atheist publication for about two years. He has long held that irrational belief, or, in his view, religion, is the root cause of many of our current societal disasters and woes. A lack of understanding of history dooms us to repeat its mistakes. Adhering to superstition or simple short-term financial benefits over what we know from science has left us with both a damaged environment and damaged health.
He is undergoing chemotherapy for cancer, is in his sixties, and has health issues on top of his cancer. He’s concerned about the state of the world as well as his own health. Although he views the coronavirus pandemic as just barely a pandemic, through the lens of history, he sees it as a personal threat to one like himself. He described compared the coronavirus pandemic to both the Spanish flu and the Medieval European plague, and found it less worrisome from this perspective. However, since chemotherapy has compromised his own immune system, he’s certainly afraid of catching it. He is exactly the demographic most likely to die from it.
G. threw out a statistic about how many persons, in the US and Europe, do not accept that the earth is round, or that the earth rotates around the sun. He also gave examples from his days as a community college teacher of young adult students not knowing when Jesus lived, or when slavery in the US ended. Finally, he gave examples of ignorance among elected officials. He concluded that education, itself, is not valued enough in our country.
Reading versus Doing
G. grew up in Quebec and has a particularly dim view of the Catholic Church. We talked about how some people cannot be reached with reason. G. summed it up as follows: “If persons did not arrive at a particular opinion through reason, they can’t be swayed from it through reason.” We discussed how experience, your own or that of others close to you, influences most of us more than any amount of study or reason.
He used the shifting cultural norms around LBGTQ persons as an example. Forty years ago, most people in the US did not support gay marriage. Many viewed homosexuality as a kind of aberration. Today, a majority of Americans see it more as they view left-handedness: a minority of people are simply born this way. G. attributes this shift to the recent openness of LGBTQ persons themselves. Previously, gay persons hid their identity and now they do not. As a result, most Americans have a family member or friend who identifies that way. This personal experience with gay family and friends, in his opinion, shifted public opinion towards acceptance.
Again, enlightenment comes in the form of direct experience, and not though education, basically a form of inferred experience of others over time. I did not bring up Buddhism or Zen in the discussion with G., but suspect he would feel similar to me on combining the fruits of scholarship with fire.
Bearded Dragons: a Tangent
So S celebrated his thirteenth birthday last Wednesday, and this little critter was his present. He named her Kalessin, for the oldest dragon in Ursula K. Le Guin’s Earthsea series. We call her Kali for short.
Learning to care for a reptile is a challenge. Luckily, there is a wealth of information on-line about the care of these creatures. We also purchased an excellent book on bearded dragon care with a gift certificate from his aunt.
Last week, she was not active. We worried her terrarium was too cold. The pet shop, Burbank Scales and Tails, kindly replaced the bulb with a warmer, better one free of charge. They were ready with advice when my son called, too. This past weekend, however, our terrarium thermometer indicates the bulb heats her home too much! We have ordered a light stand, so we can adjust its distance. Now, we’re using wood blocks or wash cloths wrapped in duct tape to prop it higher.
I am thankful that we can rely on the experience of others, in the form of books, on-line articles and discussions with the knowledgable staff at Burbank Scales and Tails. Given none of us have prior personal experience in reptile care, we’re glad others are willing to educate us.
What does any of this have to do with Karate?
Everything! This is a karate blog, so of course we’ll examine how it relates to karate. Learning karate, like achieving enlightenment or learning to care for a pet bearded dragon, is half personal experience and half learning from others. Studying from karate is not the same as practicing karate. Practicing karate, however, requires the study of karate to be complete.
I recently finished Oyama’s book, “This is Karate.” So much great information is contained in its pages, as well as cool photos of Oyama and his students. So much Japanese terminology, history and philosophy lives within those pages. Reading it gives me impressions of our style’s founder that I would not have had otherwise. I picked up Oyama’s book, however, after learning who Oyama was in Sensei’s dojo.
That said, there is no substitute for attending my Sensei’s physical dojo for roughly eight years, and practicing with my instructors and fellow students. I’ve learned how to block better by fending off strong blows from TF. Watching Sensei M showed me just how hard a scholar can kick! Our dojo has had many strong women and intelligent men among its udancha, and each of them imparted some wisdom to me, through words, demonstrations, blows, blocks, kicks and their grace in the face of conflict or hardship.
I owe a lot to my Sensei. He showed me how wise, disciplined and strong children could be. It was a joy to watch S and F grow under his instruction. He showed me how to break bricks, and how to reach 100 push-ups, sit-ups and squats. He showed me how to earn a black belt. Most importantly, he demonstrated why the study of karate was valuable.
