acting as an isolated agent (individual), life is survival
living as part of all (communion), life is celebration
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Dogen Zenji, founder of Soto Zen Buddhism, compared life to rowing a boat. So, being in the boat and rowing is part of the Way unfolding. The Way includes acting wholeheartedly, it includes the menial things we do daily. In terms of the Christian contemplative, this means the sacrament of the present moment; in terms of Buddhism, this means living mindfully. One can view this, either through a religious understanding, or not, for the Way includes both and is neither. So, rowing is rowing this moment, whether we feel we know where we are, or we feel totally lost. Rowing is always here, now.
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One cannot say, "I am part of all this, life is flowing, so, I can relax and, as they say, 'Go with the flow.'" Rowing itself is Life happening, the Way being the Way; is part of the Flow. If one does not row, where will the boat go? So, that is to invite chaos. That is what happens with such advice as just go with the flow. The flow may land you against a rock, the boat may break up. You may end up marooned to the shore, stuck. Or, you may end up floating aimlessly, really going nowhere.
In all these contexts, the Flow is what is happening. And, so, relaxing and not taking responsibility shifts the whole Flow. See, the Flow itself is responsive, relational, either to rowing or not rowing; the Flow allows both, without judging either. This is not morality, not essentially, for the Flow is simply Life happening. To say the Flow, is to say the Way.
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And, as to morality... The Way is too pure to be reduced to morality, and, anyway, one can do the right thing for all the wrong reasons. The Way is too profound to be reduced to anything other than Itself. Rowing, like the Way, cannot be merely a matter of rowing correcting, even if that is a good beginning point for acting responsibly. The Way is intended so to one one with the Way, that such thoughts as right and wrong no longer take precedence over wholeheartedly acting in compassion, in wisdom toward all beings. Anyone who learns an art, for example, knows the training evolves to being one with the act itself.
The one training to play a piano, as example, thinks about the right way to play. Over time, that same one forgets about the right way to play, having grown into oneness with the act of playing itself. So, one cannot divide between the pianist and the piano and the notes... everything becomes one, even the audience and the physical place in which one is playing. Playing, then, is not about playing correctly, correctly has been absorbed in the whole context itself. Hence, one is beyond 'right' or 'wrong' way to play. The parts have been absorbed into a prior unity, and the paradox, then, is everything is a part and is the whole, at the same time. An entire performance changes with the loss of one ingredient. And, without the pianist showing up for his or her performance, no performance. The pianist must be present, must play.
* * *
Yet, there are no Precepts or Commandments on how Life must be, ought to be. Even in rowing, you are part of so much happening, you may still not end up in a favorable place, you may still get stuck or a strong wind blow you off-course into a rock. Yet, how you experience the Way will totally shift, for say, even marooned, you are with Life marooned, not fighting what has happened. That is, in Grace, you are being and becoming graceful; and, you find, Life is seen to work much better that way. So, rowing is part of the Flow, shifting how one is with the Flow, but not taking responsibility for our life is not with the Flow.
And, blaming anyone else is not with the Flow. Others act in ways that affect you, and vice versa, but blame is counterproductive, not proactive, but reactive. Also, blame is surrendering your power as a rower, rather than remaining devoted to the gift of being blessed to row in the boat, under the sky, with other rowers and boats sharing the Way with you.
* * *
Roshi Dainin Katagri, in You Have to Say Something, brings together this paradox of your place in the boat but this not being your place. I have called this communion; indeed, Life is wholly communion, for including the whole. You are you within the whole, and the whole is the whole as it is for being that in which you are.
The place where you are is not just your place. If you actually see where you are, you will see that you are one with the boat, the water, the near shore, and the far shore. You are one with the sky, the birds, and the motion of the boat. In other words, you, the boat, the water, the near and far shores, and the sky are all moving together. Where you are is completely beyond your control. And yet you still have to row the boat.
And, really, we could say, "If you do not row the boat, that is rowing the boat." Even the choice not to act, is action. Life, in a sense, stands before you, every moment, even when you are sleeping, saying, "Now, you must do something with me, this you cannot not do."
* * *
And, this becomes what gives meaning to your life, sacralizes your every step of the Way. You know your dreams may not come true. If a dream comes true, it can become untrue in a moment. You may accomplish, for example, getting a dream job, and, then, be diagnosed with a fatal disease. Or, you may be fired. Or, the company may be shut down. Who knows? Yet, there you are, rowing. And, life remains meaningful in living itself, even if what you call your life seems to fall completely apart, as it may seem to. Who knows? And, it is going to, we call that death; and, since death is a process, a dying, what you call your life and I call my life is already falling apart, all the time.
So, one may say, "What you are saying is nihilistic?" Or, "You are depressing me, I cannot live like that. I must have control, to feel able to live amid chaos." Let us address this.
* * *
First, this is not nihilistic. Second, you can live this way. This way is a relaxed way of focusing on what you can control and enjoying that: rowing. So, whatever you give yourself to do, you do it wholeheartedly. Life becomes sacred, a holy, reverential act of gratitude to Life.
As to, "I cannot live this way." This meaning, "I must have certainty, I must have control." Well, you are already living without having control. The idea that you can control anything other than your wholehearted engagement with Life, the Way, is the illusion, the lie. So, one can accept the contingencies of the Way with gratitude, with relief. See, too much is happening for control. And, the only place you can act is in the boat, at one place. There, you cannot control the shores, the sky, the other persons rowing, other boats, weather changes, ...
And, too, there is no God to promise you that due to His or Her favor, you can escape or be exempt from being a human with other humans rowing out on the water. You may feel very close to your God, and disaster can happen, anyway. You may even blame your God, like you had been a good boy or good girl and, hence, this God should have protected you, He, or She, owned you protection from misfortune. But no one is, finally, to blame. And, in loving your God beyond blame, you discover an amazing grace supporting you, as you row without a need to be other than present to the rowing. You discover a Love free of superstition and manipulation, a certainty deeper than the felt-need you had for personal security, for you are living as part of the whole and its need, not just your felt-needs, and, certainly, not your personal wants.
* * *
So, the Way calls us to being attentive to where we are and what we are doing, one step at a time. The Way is everything, yet that one step. And, part of the relaxation is we are faithful here, without thought of how we compare to others, without feeling competitive. This is highlighted by late Zen teacher Kosho Uchiyama in Zen Teaching of Homeless Kodo.
In our modern world, most people think of their lives in terms of competition with others in a struggle for existence, money, status, or power. But a true way of life has nothing to do with competition. We are the self that is only the self. We do the self that is connected with the whole universe. Whoever and whatever I encounter is my life. We just do things with the pure life force of the self and without expectation. We actually want to live out such a self. We don’t have to weep when we fail or fall behind in some kind of competition. There’s no need to pursue or escape because of a desire to gain happiness or reject sadness. If we restlessly run after or away from things, this way and that, our lives are always unstable.
See, again, the self acting, or rowing, is the self selfing the self. I must be one with the act of rowing. In being one with the rowing, I am one-ing with the oneness that already is with my place in the whole Way, the universe happening, now. So, if I end up being throw against the shore due to a storm or being pulled along under the calm and sunshine, I am becoming, and the Way is becoming. Becoming, see, is the Flow, is the Wholeness becoming. Even the decision to row is a becoming, a holy becoming, a choice to participate in communion happening, the Way expressing in the many ways.
Concluding, I was in college and newly married, needing work. I began with an informal interview near the small school, in a little town with few job opportunities. The interview was for work at a local gas station, only some 3 miles from my home on campus. During the interview, I was informed I would have to sell alcohol. Well, I was, then, a fundamentalist Christian and raised to see any alcohol use as wrong, even evil. Though I need work, and money, and the job was at an ideal location for me as a husband and student, I turned the job down. I simply informed the manager I could not sell alcohol, for that would violate my religious commitment. Thankfully, I ended up with good work, but at a farther distance.
Looking back, that is the rowing the boat. One could say, "You should have taken the job." Others might disagree, saying, "Good for you, you did what you felt right." Now, as I look back, I realize this was rowing, this was a wholehearted engagement with life, with myself, and part of the communion. So, this was not mainly about making the right decision or the wrong decision, this was about wholeheartedly rowing, doing something from a commitment to the communion that the Way is.
So, over time, our sense of being faithful shifts, if we keep growing in consciousness. Then, it was, "What is the right thing to do?" Now, the Way is about acting wholeheartedly, not mainly about right or wrong. Now, by the way, I would likely accept the job, as interviewed to work with a beer company many years later. When rowing, we are selfing ourselves, and how we see life changes, and this is natural, for the Way is unfolding, and with that, everything keeps changing.
The above picture is one of the many pictures I have taken from the Waterman Trail, outside my cottage and moving along the outskirts of Back River. Since moving to Maine in late September, on Georgetown Island, I have enjoyed hiking trails, and they are everywhere here. In Florida, I biked open-road. So, hiking has meant slowing down, feeling more the way, even the sense of physicality of the path and the sounds of the way, such as that of leaves when not snow-covered and snow, otherwise.
When cycling, I sensed more a relationship with the bike than the road. Possibly, too, so it seems, the cold here seems to slow things down mentally, pressing me into one moment, as well creating an atmosphere of aloneness ~ sometimes eerie, when out alone in the wood ~, and of being part of the surroundings I rarely felt before.
So, walking these paths, I feel a closeness, not just to the paths, more the way as the whole environment. I sense a moving with the wholeness of the atmosphere, like everything is in agreement, made up of many aspects, yet one sharing, one being together.
* * *
So, the idea of "Way" has become more a matter of attention to me over these months. As though thoughts on the "Way," the "Tao," from the past are merging more intimately, birthing a fresh, increasingly in-depth appreciation.
Over the next days, I will share on this Way. I discovered the presentation expanding and, so, decided it wise to present in smaller portions, rather than the whole meal stacked high on one plate.
* * *
First, the Way used here assumes the Way being Communion, not Way, or Communion, as a mere act, such as the religious usage taking Communion or Holy Communion, or state of community, such as functioning in harmony. Way will be presented as living, alive, and inclusive of seen and unseen. Each particularity is a means of the universal, the in-time beings being invitations to timeless sharing, but not a timelessness excluding time.
In short, we live in what has been called a holographic universe (lit., one verse). Another way of saying this ~ everything leans. No being exists apart from the whole, each born in dependence to be dependent, so Communion. And, ironically, then, the experience of independence itself is found within acceptance of limitations, with inherent reliance on other beings, including non-human beings. For instance, what do you have left, if you subtract other beings from your meal? How much of what you eat derives from animal life? Plant life? ~ And animal and plant are beings, all marked boundaries are concepts ~ no one can locate a point where Life becomes human, animal, plant, ... Life is more a blending of varied beings, not a clear arrangement of clearly delineated forms. ~ How much relies on sunshine? Water? Sky? Air? These are beings, too. Everything is a being, for being.
Continued...
