Adapted from a talk given at Throssel on Wesak day 2022.

Thank you for coming to join us to celebrate the Festival of the Buddha’s Birth, it’s good to have you all with us. A joyful festival like this, or just coming to the monastery, can elicit a sense of affirmation, connection, reminding us why we train and what it means to us. In a talk a while back, one of the American monks spoke of a deep aspiration for Truth. That struck a chord for me; the wish to know Truth and to be true feels deeply based.

I see that I have always felt this wish but didn’t recognise what it was for many years. I experienced a quiet question at the back of my mind, right from my early years. The urgency became stronger as the years passed. I really didn’t know what it was – and I could not ignore it. I tried all sorts to ‘settle’ it and taking on a new activity engaged me for a while but was quickly revealed to be ‘not it.’ I was doing my best to solve something which I recognised was deep and significant, but didn’t know to stop and listen to what was calling me until I discovered practice.

I see that the call to turn within was functioning before I recognised what it was. Dōgen said in the Body and Mind Study of the Way chapter of the Shōbōgenzō: ‘The thought of (or aspiration for) enlightenment arouses itself, [my italics] it is not dependent on conditions or limited by them.’ I didn’t generate a wish to practice, coming was an (eventual) following of what was being called for. My not attending to the call for so many years did not hinder it, in fact it became stronger to catch my attention, it seems. Dōgen says the aspiration ‘arouses itself’, suggesting that it is active in our engagement with our life.

In busy interactions during our day, we find our way, sometimes triggered by habit and reaction, sometimes connected and present – and we instinctively know when we are going adrift and feel the rightness of following what we feel to be true. We are drawn to sit, even though there are times and circumstances when we dig our heels in and resist, or ignore the quiet beckoning. Once sitting, letting go and staying open to the wish is challenging, yet even quite early on, we recognise when we are off track: “this isn’t it”, and come back.

Sometimes an insight comes from out of the blue and quietly opens. Recently a statement came to mind which I was comfortably secure about, felt was unquestionably true, and as it came to mind, I saw clearly “Oh, that’s not it.” It was quietly revealed in a new light. My previously held idea was washed away; it was humbling, I saw I didn’t know, needed to leave the conjecture and be willing to rest in the unsettled, unresolved, to look again. In whatever form they come, experiences of suddenly seeing something have quite an impact. As they fade, nothing graspable is left, yet something has been seen and known, a suggestion perhaps of the inner transformation over time through practice.

And in the practical realities of our day, we are finding our way. The idea I had been holding on to was all I could see – and then I was shown something more, with no trace of judgement, simply quietly shown. It’s like that for us all, our sincere effort now is what we can see and do at that time; trust it and go with it, but hold it lightly, and seeing more, let go and move on anew.

There is never a complete ‘right answer’. There is always more to see as long as we live, not because of any lack in capacity, but because we live in the dynamic of the moment with everything else involved too. There is no solution, but a living out in real time. Everything I do is a response, in one sense, to others, to circumstances and to my best sense of what is good to do. When alone and quiet, I am as I am in response to my thoughts and feelings.

Shinshu Roberts, a contemporary Zen teacher, points to ‘our tendency to define our experience rather than be open to its ambiguity’1. When we have defined something, it feels like we ‘know where we are with it.’ This feels reassuring, but it’s a false reassurance as we have stepped aside from the flow of what is happening. More than that, defining our experience sets something up, which we then react to and build on; we create a safety net against the unsettling ambiguity.

It calls for much to stay on that edge of unresolvedness and allow our feelings to show us our insecurity, show us that we don’t know. It is not a problem that we don’t know, it is always the case, as nothing in life is ever fixed but is always unfolding. It is not ‘my’ life. When we let be for a while our viewpoints, concerns and agenda, and just be where we are, everything is seen to be quietly functioning without me steering. It’s not about me, yet there is no diminishing of me, it’s a quite different viewpoint. All circumstances and encounters, and in response, all steps taken, all mishaps, joys and embarrassments of everyone present have their effect in shaping what is here and what happens next. There is a lively fullness in this.

Shinshu Roberts says “There is never a time when all the elements of a situation are not coming forward to meet us”. All the elements of a situation – and people – are not just part of our life, but are ‘coming forward to meet us’ she says. This is referencing a quote by Dōgen in Genjō Kōan2 “That myriad things come forth and illuminate the self is awakening.” Rather than ‘carrying the self forward’ i.e. seeing ourselves as centre stage and attempting to control things, when we let go and allow ourselves to meet whatever comes, the moment opens to us and shows us how we are, what is going on, and something of what is needed may become apparent.

There is a striking line at the beginning of The Most Excellent Mirror—Samādhi: “The Buddhas and the Ancestors have all directly handed down this basic truth, Preserve well for you now have, this is all.”3 [my italics] ‘You now have’ expresses much. ‘Now’ is emphasised by its unusual position, and being unqualified means every moment. It is the same with ‘you’; it refers to anyone reading the scripture, no exception. Being about everyone equally, ‘you have’ can’t be talking about possession of anything that others don’t have, but about the true nature of what is here.

The dedication at the beginning of the ceremony expressed this too: “The newly-born Buddha looks around and sees that his nature is the Truth. He takes seven steps to reveal that all that exists has the same nature.” I read this as pointing to how the Truth the Buddha later realised was already present when he was born and that his life was already expressing this.

The two words that precede ‘you now have’ in The Most Excellent Mirror—Samādhi say something about practice from this perspective. ‘Preserve well’ is an unusual but rather helpful expression. ‘Preserve’, as in keep your practice alive, commit to it, explore it, become with it, grow with it. There is a shift in approach to training, no longer approaching from a point of view of lack, but from the deep wish to see what we can of what is called for and how we may help. The circumstances of our life continue and our habitual tendencies still get triggered, but any challenging traits can be appreciated not as obstacles to training, rather what we train with as best we can when we find them here. They arise through a complex set of conditions and history that have come together to be just like this now. There is no need for judgement, but to see and accept, then do our best to see what is needed. Even though almost all of our lives is familiar territory, in meeting each moment, we don’t know; it is new experience and we have to look to where we are to have a sense of what’s good to do. What’s needed is not clearly definable, but we alight on something and take a step and see what’s next.

There is a quite unfathomable depth at work within this active training. I have talked a bit about my sense of connection and the guiding call as a way to try and say something about this deeper context. It shows me why letting go of self-view and looking deeply are so much a part of practice. It is freeing, and such a relief, to let go of self concerns and to allow life in and to appreciate what is here. Life has a fullness and an edge too as there is always the question of what is called for. What can I do to help is not a chore, but a fulfilling offering that connects me to others and to my life.

Notes
1. Roberts, Shinshu. Being Time: A Practitioner’s Guide to Dōgen’s Shōbōgenzō. Wisdom Publications, 2018.
2. Great Master Dōgen. Genjō Kōan in Shōbōgenzō. Tanahashi, ed., Shambala, 2012, p 29.
3. The Liturgy of the Order of Buddhist Contemplatives for the Laity. Shasta Abbey Press, 1990, p. 61-2.