This post begins with a story about a Zen priest who presumably was confident in his Buddha-nature, and thus liberating from conventional mores. It was against the rules to drink wine, but he drank it anyway without fear that he was putting his enlightenment at risk.
It ends by referring to seekers of truth who embraced the mortification of the flesh as a path to enlightenment. That’s the complete opposite of the first story, with its laissez-faire priest.
How should we read those Daoist/Zen texts, that point us in opposite directions?
Personally, I think the first story is closer to the truth than the later stories. But there is an inescapable paradox that led to two separate schools of thought in Buddhism: those who think enlightenment comes all at once in a flash of sudden insight, and those who think that enlightenment has to be worked for, by struggling to advance over a protracted period of time.
For the latter school, enlightenment is the culmination of and reward for a lifetime of effort. And I have spent my adult life seeking wisdom, so in practice I suppose I agree with them to some extent. (Albeit I have never seen any value whatsoever in seeking out the mortification of the flesh. I think that’s evidence of a spiritual sickness.)
But ultimately, the struggle comes down to making peace with yourself. Learning to accept who you are—even the aspects that society regards as shameful. Understanding that the Dao generates ten thousand things, and you are one of them, whose beauty and cosmic purpose inheres in the fact that you are unlike all the other ‘things’.
And so I circle back to the first story. Enjoy a glass of wine! Take satisfaction in your humanness. That is the Daoist _Way._
"It ends by referring to seekers of truth who embraced the mortification of the flesh as a path to enlightenment. That’s the complete opposite of the first story, with its laissez-faire priest."
Not quite what I meant---. But that's why Daoist teachings are spread by metaphor and the individual having to 'figure out what it means for herself'.
To be clear, I know that you didn’t seek out the mortification of the flesh — though it may have sought you out at times, as it has me! I was reacting to this paragraph:
“One thing that you will see over and over again in the literature are examples where initiates have to go through extreme hardships in order to achieve realization. Some stories talk about adepts having to be boiled in caldrons. Others talk about being dumped into pits with tigers. Others talk about masters forcing disciples to eat bowls of rotting, maggot-ridden dog feces.”
Those stories are presumably an attempt to valourize the initiates who underwent such “extreme hardships to achieve realization.” I was just struck by the contrast between that message and the story from Zen Flesh, Zen Bones.
Life itself already presents enough extreme hardships and lessons that realization is there for the having to anyone who lets it happen. Perhaps those guys needed taking down a peg, or the masters were fast-forwarding their suffering due to them coming from backgrounds of luxury and ease. Killing your disciple sounds like a dubious teaching method and I would scorn the master who did that to anyone who has experienced anything close to "normal" life, and anyone who had any inkling of the here-and-now wouldn't need such extreme theater.
The guy who ran the temple I was initiated into also taught taijiquan. One of the very few phrases he knew in English was "pain good!". After the first class I took I found that my legs were so stiff from all the deep knee bends that I had to crawl up three flights of stairs on my hands and knees to get into my attic room in my rooming house.
This is confusing the hell out of me. The way I read it I gathered the following:
Tanzan - philospher, drinker, realized man
Unsho - priest forbidden drink, refuses drink, gets called a Buddha (the nature of which we all have) by Tanzan
Where does it say Unsho drank? I'm missing it. To me Tanzan is saying that one who can abstain from drinking like common men have the strength of the Buddha.
And just why can't Unsho be left to and respected in his abstinence? Do Taoists go around browbeating others who chose their own path? Subjecting them to peer pressure to ingest intoxicants? This is something a lot of religions and disciplines take seriously. Why is Tanzan *&^%ing with him? I abstain from alcohol due to medical reasons. If another Taoist indulged in word games with me because I won't drink, I'd move to another table!
And that's why I said Daoist and Zen stories are 'evocative'. I don't really think there is a 'correct' way of seeing them---the point is to meditate on them and try to find some insight.
The title _Zen Flesh, Zen Bones_ comes from a Master talking about three different students reacting to his teaching. One of them has the "flesh" of it, the other has the "bones" of it, and, the third has the "marrow". I was expressing the flesh, perhaps. And you were expressing the bones.
This post begins with a story about a Zen priest who presumably was confident in his Buddha-nature, and thus liberating from conventional mores. It was against the rules to drink wine, but he drank it anyway without fear that he was putting his enlightenment at risk.
It ends by referring to seekers of truth who embraced the mortification of the flesh as a path to enlightenment. That’s the complete opposite of the first story, with its laissez-faire priest.
How should we read those Daoist/Zen texts, that point us in opposite directions?
Personally, I think the first story is closer to the truth than the later stories. But there is an inescapable paradox that led to two separate schools of thought in Buddhism: those who think enlightenment comes all at once in a flash of sudden insight, and those who think that enlightenment has to be worked for, by struggling to advance over a protracted period of time.
For the latter school, enlightenment is the culmination of and reward for a lifetime of effort. And I have spent my adult life seeking wisdom, so in practice I suppose I agree with them to some extent. (Albeit I have never seen any value whatsoever in seeking out the mortification of the flesh. I think that’s evidence of a spiritual sickness.)
But ultimately, the struggle comes down to making peace with yourself. Learning to accept who you are—even the aspects that society regards as shameful. Understanding that the Dao generates ten thousand things, and you are one of them, whose beauty and cosmic purpose inheres in the fact that you are unlike all the other ‘things’.
And so I circle back to the first story. Enjoy a glass of wine! Take satisfaction in your humanness. That is the Daoist _Way._
"It ends by referring to seekers of truth who embraced the mortification of the flesh as a path to enlightenment. That’s the complete opposite of the first story, with its laissez-faire priest."
Not quite what I meant---. But that's why Daoist teachings are spread by metaphor and the individual having to 'figure out what it means for herself'.
To be clear, I know that you didn’t seek out the mortification of the flesh — though it may have sought you out at times, as it has me! I was reacting to this paragraph:
“One thing that you will see over and over again in the literature are examples where initiates have to go through extreme hardships in order to achieve realization. Some stories talk about adepts having to be boiled in caldrons. Others talk about being dumped into pits with tigers. Others talk about masters forcing disciples to eat bowls of rotting, maggot-ridden dog feces.”
Those stories are presumably an attempt to valourize the initiates who underwent such “extreme hardships to achieve realization.” I was just struck by the contrast between that message and the story from Zen Flesh, Zen Bones.
Life itself already presents enough extreme hardships and lessons that realization is there for the having to anyone who lets it happen. Perhaps those guys needed taking down a peg, or the masters were fast-forwarding their suffering due to them coming from backgrounds of luxury and ease. Killing your disciple sounds like a dubious teaching method and I would scorn the master who did that to anyone who has experienced anything close to "normal" life, and anyone who had any inkling of the here-and-now wouldn't need such extreme theater.
The guy who ran the temple I was initiated into also taught taijiquan. One of the very few phrases he knew in English was "pain good!". After the first class I took I found that my legs were so stiff from all the deep knee bends that I had to crawl up three flights of stairs on my hands and knees to get into my attic room in my rooming house.
This is confusing the hell out of me. The way I read it I gathered the following:
Tanzan - philospher, drinker, realized man
Unsho - priest forbidden drink, refuses drink, gets called a Buddha (the nature of which we all have) by Tanzan
Where does it say Unsho drank? I'm missing it. To me Tanzan is saying that one who can abstain from drinking like common men have the strength of the Buddha.
And just why can't Unsho be left to and respected in his abstinence? Do Taoists go around browbeating others who chose their own path? Subjecting them to peer pressure to ingest intoxicants? This is something a lot of religions and disciplines take seriously. Why is Tanzan *&^%ing with him? I abstain from alcohol due to medical reasons. If another Taoist indulged in word games with me because I won't drink, I'd move to another table!
And that's why I said Daoist and Zen stories are 'evocative'. I don't really think there is a 'correct' way of seeing them---the point is to meditate on them and try to find some insight.
The title _Zen Flesh, Zen Bones_ comes from a Master talking about three different students reacting to his teaching. One of them has the "flesh" of it, the other has the "bones" of it, and, the third has the "marrow". I was expressing the flesh, perhaps. And you were expressing the bones.
I absolutely agree on those points. I just thought I got the basic plot completely wrong.