Fuden Nessi, Rev. Master

 

Offered in loving memory of Reverend Master Jishō and Reverend Master Saidō.

 

There is that within each of us which sees what is here with openness and without doing anything with it, adding something to it, turning away from it or forming views about it. It is pure seeing, and is an attribute of our true nature. Our effort to keep returning to this open seeing from the heart is an integral part of our taking refuge in Buddha, I feel.

However, when we perceive what is happening in our life and what is going on inside us, or when we look at others and their actions, we generally and almost automatically enter into our perception with the thinking mind. The mind then almost inevitably generates solidified views about what is perceived.

Most of the time, we then inwardly abide on the level of the mental constructs that the mind has given rise to. We identify ourselves with them, without actually being aware of this. We take these mental constructs, which are quite provisional and have no absolute reality, as the true reality on which we then base ourselves in life.

The thinking mind fulfills a crucial function for us of course. It’s important though that we inwardly abide in such a way that makes it possible for it to function in the service of our true nature. This is only possible when we don’t allow our attention to be constantly drawn into the various mental constructs that the mind has created.

I realize that this brief analysis is rather incomplete. I have tried to formulate in a condensed form an area of spiritual training that seems increasingly important to me.

 

Here is a simple example of how this can play itself out in daily life: Some time back, after a very difficult night, I was feeling disoriented and lost in the early morning. As I lay there in bed exhausted from the night, I found it difficult to recognize my familiar inner world. It all seemed rather foreign. It would have been so easy at this point to meet this distressing state with the critical mind, concluding that there must be something wrong with me.

In this confused state, I did my best to turn towards Buddha in the heart. After a while, almost in the background of the distressed feelings and disconcerting mental images that were there in the foreground, I became aware of that which simply saw what was there, without assessing or judging any of it. I perceived this innate faculty of simply seeing, as something most precious, imbued with an unconditional goodness. It wasn’t that I was wholly unfamiliar with it, but on that early morning, I noticed this pure awareness particularly with awe and gratitude.

Pure seeing is always here for us, and, we have to keep choosing to join it, instead of allowing it to be continually covered over by our habitual mental responses to what is given to us in life. When we catch it when the discriminative mind grasps after things, we can gently let go of the mental constructs that it creates and offer them up. In this way, we can align ourselves with that which sees and recognizes the worries, self-doubts, fears, insecurities and other difficult states of mind without any judgement. This dissolves the glue with which the mental constructs tend to stick to our feelings and emotions.

Over time, this pure way of perceiving can become more familiar to us. As a result, we also identify a bit less with the images that the mind creates. We see them for what they are, provisional and passing constructions. What arises from this, is a firm intent to turn towards whatever happens to be here for us and openly look at it, but without holding on to it tightly.

Fear and worry are good examples of complex emotional states where the evaluating and often even judgmental mind tends to take over, although one could use many other examples to illustrate this. When there is fear, it is so helpful when, instead of dwelling on what gives rise to the fear and losing ourselves in the related mental images, we are able to just be with openness with the fear itself. All that may be here then at first, is often just the perception, “I am really afraid”, without anything else superimposed.

Sometimes we are not able to clearly identify the cause of the fear that is in us – it can just be there as a diffuse but almost all-pervading anxiety. If at such times we can acknowledge what is in us with an inner Gasshō, without doing anything with it, it often happens that behind the threatening fear, an unconditional “Yes” of the heart to what is here appears. When we remain with this “Yes”, after a while the fear gets enfolded in our intent to take refuge in Buddha. This amounts to bringing the fear to the altar of the heart.

This process also reminds me of what is depicted in the illustration of the 4th column in Reverend Master Jiyu’s book How to Grow a Lotus Blossom,¹ where a person (here depicted as a monk) is carrying some beings to the eternal, healing fountain of Compassion. One of the ways to understand the beings that the monk is bringing to the fountain, is as symbolizing aspects of ourselves that are pained and confused, and that need help. In this sense, they could also stand for fear and worry.

Sometimes, sincere trainees have expressed to me that they are very afraid of what will happen to them, should their loved ones pass away before them, and told me that they were deeply worried when thinking about how alone they would then feel in this world. Others spoke to me about their recurring strong worry of not living up to what is asked of them in life and in their spiritual training, and how this would often seem to get in the way of their intent to do what is good.

Our fears and worries are often quite understandable and very human. It’s important not to immediately just try to counteract these powerful feelings with something that might mentally provide a positive counter-balance for us. If instead, we are willing to consciously be here with all these feelings with an open heart, this tends to provide an entrance into something which is not affected by these difficult inner states.

What then appears, is difficult to put into words. The fear and the worry may still be there, and at the same time, something in us intuits that which is not bound by them. We recognize – which is so liberating – that which is not dependent in any way on passing states of feeling or circumstances. It is our True Refuge. It’s what ultimately brings healing to what needs help in us, if we turn towards it.

From this new perspective, we see the difficult facets of our life, and the painful feelings and emotions these evoke in us, in a different light. The difficulties and the suffering are no longer felt as something independently existing on their own, apart from the fundamental Goodness in existence. This changed perspective helps us to turn towards, and not away from, what is in us and what we are given in life, even when it is imbued with much suffering. It also helps us to recognize that nothing can ever separate us from our True Refuge.

 

In connection with all this, I have sometimes thought of what is expressed in the Scripture of Avalokiteshwara Bodhisattva. The scripture relates all kinds of very dangerous situations that beings can find themselves in. It then states that, by calling and relying on Avalokiteshwara, we shall be protected from all grief and care, and that all the pain that comes from birth, old age, disease and death shall pass away.

For me, this links in to what I’ve tried to express: No matter how threatening the circumstances in which we find ourselves in life may be, no matter how difficult that which is now within us is, by willingly being with the difficult aspects of life and turning with them towards the true Refuge in our heart, the Compassion that is at the heart of life and death can show itself to us.

 

Aligning ourselves with pure awareness not only has a profound influence on the way we perceive what is in us, in time we are also more able to see what is going on with our fellow human beings from a truer and purer perspective than the one we were used to beforehand. When we think about others, we then do it with more empathy and understanding. When we meet them, we don’t just see the mental images we have of them, but see from a deeper place that recognizes their fundamental as well as unique preciousness.

It is something so precious, when someone views others in this way. When spending time with Reverend Master Jishō and Reverend Master Saidō, one could often witness how, each in his own particular way, this would express itself in how they related to others and how they treated them, and in their love for beings.

 

Note

1. P.T.N.H. Jiyu-Kennett, How to Grow a Lotus Blossom, or How a Zen Buddhist Prepares for Death. Shasta Abbey Press, 1977.