Friday, October 12, 2012

We Get Mail



To: Shokai
Subject: Renunciation

Something has been on my mind and I don't feel like I can wait until the next time we meet to ask. 

I'm getting to the point in my life where I'm expected to start working for a living, and that expectation of me is bringing a lot of confusion given the way I've viewed life up to this point.  Basically, I've been considering moving to a Zen monastery and renouncing the goal-oriented way of life.  I guess my question is whether or not it's actually possible to live as a Zen layperson.  To me it doesn't seem like it is, and that idea has been bringing me a lot of grief lately.  The life of a householder seems to necessarily bring with it a whole array of self-interested goals and views. 

Do you know anyone who has been successful in living as a Zen layperson?  Is such a thing truly possible or is it just the result of modern people being so stuck to their attachments that they refuse to give them up? 


From: Shokai
Subject: Renunciation 


As I’m sure you know, throughout most of its history, Buddhism in general and Zen in particular have been practiced in monasteries. The Buddha, his first followers, and on down the line to Zen Master Dogen and many contemporary teachers have all “left home” and the goal-oriented life of the householder for the sake of their practice. There were, of course, exceptions – Layman Pang immediately comes to mind – and Dogen in particular often had great praise for lay practioners. 

But we also see that practice of The Way has changed with each culture it has encountered. Certainly Chinese Buddhism (Chan) was very different from Indian Buddhism, and Japanese Buddhism (Zen) was very different from Chinese Buddhism. Whether Buddhism is now encountering a specifically American culture, or a western culture or 21st Century culture, is an interesting concept, but in either case, the times are changing and practice of The Way changes with it. The Way is said to be very fluid – like water, its shape changes according to whatever vessel it’s poured into. 

Monastic life is not the norm in America (or the West or the 21st Century or whatever) the way it was in the past. It is not non-existent, but neither is it the established way that the spiritual life is normally pursued here. Ours is a much more materialistic, competitive, goal-oriented culture than ancient India, China, or Japan. Does the here-and-now practice of The Way abandon that culture altogether, or find a way to coexist with it? 

The concept of “leaving home” and renunciation presupposes that one had once maintained a home and lived a life to renounce to begin with. Further, “renunciation” does not necessarily mean giving up career, family, home, etc, but could mean letting go of attachments to career goals, social status, and family expectations. The problem isn’t being successful or popular, it’s being attached to success or popularity, to striving for those (and other) goals. It’s our attachment to those goals that causes suffering, and that keeps us in egocentric states of ignorance. The easiest way to avoid those attachments is to never get involved in the first place, but it’s also entirely possible, with the support of a good teacher and a strong sangha, to let go of those attachments even while living the life of a householder. 

If I may, I’d like to postulate that modern, western Zen is a layperson’s practice - it’s realization of The Way even while in the midst of the busy marketplace, and it requires a lot of zazen to keep the temptations of greed and ambition from taking hold even while we act as kind fathers and husbands (or mothers and wives), good employees, caring bosses, and engaged neighbors and citizens. If we’re to practice our bodhisattva vows to help all other sentient beings, to practice generosity, kind speech, cooperation, and helpfulness, doesn’t it make sense that we do so not secluded away in some monastery but among those with the greatest suffering? 

We say that we “take refuge” in the Buddha, the dharma, and the sangha, and we “retreat” to our practice, but The Way is not a means of avoiding the very real, here-and-now challenges of our life. If anything, it’s about coming face-to-face with those challenges and dealing with what is real. However, we can better face those challenges with the knowledge that we have these refuges at our disposal, with our understanding of the impermanence and ultimate emptiness of all things, and with realization of our true nature. 

So, yes, I do think it’s possible to practice The Way as a layperson – it’s been my personal practice for over a decade now and in my travels to other American Zen Centers it seem to be how the practice is usually followed (with exceptions, of course) across most of North America. I work, pay my bills, maintain a home, and participate in civic organizations, but have renounced goals of achieving success, wealth, status, or popularity – if any of these occur, great, but wisdom tells me not to get too used to it, as impermanence changes everything and attachment not only creates suffering when it does change, it keeps me from enjoying them while they’re present. 

One final work of caution: I have met some Zen students who went off to a monastic life “too soon” and became quite attached to status within the monastery, became unnecessarily erudite and showy in their knowledge of the dharma, and in short, became quite attached to success, status, and popularity within the monastic community. The very same traps that can ensnare a householder can also catch a monastic. I’ve also detected some bitterness over what feel they have “sacrificed” and “given up,” so the very attachments they left to avoid seem to still have them in their grasp. 

We can continue this discussion if you like next weekend. I’m sure these issues are pressing and constantly changing, and that any advice offered today would have to be reconsidered tomorrow. 

May you be well, 
In gasho, 
Shokai

No comments: