Zen Sesshin with Kobun Chino Sensei

Zen Sesshin with Kobun Chino Sensei Forewords In 1974, at Naropa Institute, Kobun accepted me as a disciple. It s almost like I can t speak for the person that I was, back then. It feels like I m speaking for someone else. But at that time, I think, I felt that my sitting was a true spiritual practice, that I was actually doing spiritual work, arriving at reality by my body and mind. I guess I could say that I was more idealistic than I am now. My sitting has become less busy, less focused on trying to arrive somewhere. When you do a sesshin, you have to come home to yourself, as you are. But your sense of your body and your mind is not just your located consciousness, or your particular bag of skin, but something bigger than that. So you could say that, back then, what I considered spiritual practice was endeavoring to come home to things as they are, bhu ta ta ya tha, as it isness, things as they are. I ve become interested in Sanskrit words, because their meaning is broader, bigger, more loaded, than most English words. In my understanding, what Sanskrit words mean and what they convey, compared to English, is like a paragraph, compared to a sentence. For instance, yatham bhutam, isasanskritword,anoldword. It means thusness, isness, nowness, unbound and unfabricated reality. When we are able to sit, and at other times, too, although when we sit we are setting up a deliberate situation, it is to make that experience accessible, or if the experience, itself, is not accessible, to make ourselves more pliable, to be able to be taught, to be able to receive reality, without fabrication. On the other hand, I can t say that I go into sesshin, or into practice, with an aspiration for that experience. I might say that I don t think of practice as a project or an assignment, to wake up, or to be a better person. I don t go into practice like that. I just sit down, to sit down. Sitting is kind of like taking a break, or taking a rest, but not the superficial kind of rest that we want when we are physically tired. When we are existentially tired, just tired of not being complete, of not really being a complete person, then it s a good time to take a break and be quiet. Sitting is not necessarily about finding happiness, either, although they say that when the Buddha awakened, he was happy, so thoroughly happy, that even his five friends who had rejected him when he renounced his ascetic ways, couldn t continue to reject him, because he appeared so complete, so happy, so real, that they had to inquire, What s going on with you? Why are you so happy?" They became his first disciples. The word happy in modern usage can be very superficial. It has to do with getting your immediate needs met, or believing yourself to be satisfied in one way or another, or 1

not being in pain, or having something given to you that gives you pleasure. Happiness in abuddhistcontextmightbetterbedescribedasthesanskritword,piti, orpithi. Commonly it gets translated as bliss." This meaning is often misconstrued because bliss," in English, means some sort of ecstatic state, but piti means a thorough sense of well being and completeness, composure, and confidence, a feeling of having arrived, being deeply happy, not just superficially happy. With piti there isn t a question of it lasting a short time or a long time, or that it has any duration. It s more that it s a feeling of completion, and being complete, not only is it not superficial, it isn t transitory. So the Buddha was happy in that way, and it not only affected him, it affected the people whom he encountered. People asked why he was so happy, and in answering, he started to teach. And what he taught, initially, was the reason why people were not happy, laying out four truths: Unhappiness exists, it has a cause, there can be cessation of unhappiness, and there is a path, which he called the Eightfold Path. But, thinking about my own happiness or unhappiness in meditation, I ve had experiences where I ve had insight, and where I felt good in meditation. I ve also had experiences when I struggled, and felt overwhelmed or defeated by the fullness and creativity in my mind, my mental production. At times I ve had trouble following my breath, when I have a busy mind. I have occasionally made a little scene for myself, in my mind. It goes, Okay, you re having trouble following your breath. What if you were breathing for another person, like arespiratorinahospital,andthatpersonneededyoutobeawareofeverybreath,orthey would die." This has helped me to be mindful, although often I don t quite believe the scenario I have set up, so my mind wanders! Idon tthinki mlookingfor,ornecessarilyreceiving,happiness,intheordinarysense, from meditation. One of many ways to understand the meditation experience is suggested by the meal ritual called oryoki." Interestingly, the term means, just enough" in Japanese. One could say, just enough food, just enough happiness." Related to this idea, just enough" is the notion of a complete" person. What does it mean for a person to be complete, to arrive at the totality of themselves, or, rather, to rest in the totality of themselves? What does it take for a meal, or a person, to be complete? One knows there is still plenty of food in the kitchen, lots of work to be done, a great deal of unfinished business to be taken care of, but, in this moment, there is enough. A complete person is one who brings all of himself, or herself, to the moment. For instance, when meeting with another person, it doesn t mean one may not have other concerns, worries about a partner, for example, at the same time he or she is meeting you. Such a person doesn t hold back from the present moment, lean to one side or another, cling to this or that view. A complete person is right in the middle of the situation, so that you experience meeting with a real person, a whole person. Further, it s not just that person meeting me and me meeting him or her, there is a feeling that that person meets everyone, meets a cup of tea, meets troubles, meets the tire pressure in their car, meets everything, with that same willingness to be upright. This is what I saw in Kobun, when I was face to face with Kobun. For the most part, he had no hidden agenda. He was willing to teach me, invited me to sit down with him, and I found it a kind of right place to be. I knew I couldn t be like him. I didn t have a personality that was similar to his, but I wanted to be affected by him. In Kobun, I saw a complete person. When talking about sesshin, more than once I heard Kobun say you should settle your life, make arrangements, and go into it, not like jumping off acliff, butwalkingintoashallow 2

incline. In other words, don t just jump into sesshin from the busyness of your life. Move into it slowly, gradually sloughing off the concerns of your busy daily life. And after sesshin, go slowly back into the world. Don t jump back into the world. Move slowly, and don t load yourself with some stimulating activity that you believe you missed while you were gone. A week before and after sesshin, move slowly into and out of it. For my whole life, I ve had intentions of doing that, and haven t yet done it! Sesshin is a device arranged to make things very, very simple, minimal, and direct, for sitting. It might be seen as an artificial situation which is set up to invite ourselves to notice that we re here. We re just here. The various forms included in sesshin are intended to support this effort. Most of us were brought up to have a goal, something to accomplish, whenever anything involves effort, so the supporting structure in sesshin is designed to let us just be, alone, and with a group of people. Being responsible for helping with the structure, is nothing more nor less than taking care of the whole, the group, and the experience, which has no goal. The Japanese meaning of sesshin" is to gather," to gather as one, to gather as one mind." Shin" is mind/heart," to gather together as one heart, one mind." It includes working together, sitting down and facing the wall together, walking in meditation together. The Buddha is often in the middle, in the traditional zendo. And then around that altar, like a circle, are the backs of all the people. And these backs become more like guardians for the Buddha, for the soft core; we become these strong backs. We also become a mandala around the center of wisdom. Sometimes I feel my back and the back of the next person are like a shield. It must be the way a soldier feels going into battle, supported by the others. I actually have sat next to people and, without saying one word, have felt this bond, this enormous connection, something even beyond love. Sometimes I feel absolute unity with the people I m sitting with. And then sometimes my knee hurts, and that s not so good! I was hungry, one time, with a friend. As I was remarking how hungry I was, talking about the pain of hunger, she said she was hungry, too. She said, Sometimes I really appreciate being hungry, because that feeling of hunger makes me feel that I m alive." I ll never forget that. A feeling of discomfort, or a feeling of pain, or of hunger, is a kind of marker that we re alive. It s kind of checking in... we can almost appreciate the pain, kind of perking you up, waking you up. Then, when the bell rings and the period ends, the pain is gone. You place your feet on the ground, and the contact of your foot on the solid ground feels good. Of course, for a lot of people, the pain isn t gone... Kobun defined our mudra as hokkai join," dharma realm, samadhi seal." It is an oval, with the right hand representing the Buddha realm and the left hand representing the human realm. So, in this image, the Buddha realm supports the human realm. The Buddha supports us, supports life. And the Buddha realm and the human realm touch and make a complete circle, over the hara. Ho" means dharma," and kai" means sphere, area, realm." So it s the realm of all dharmas. Dharmadatu means the same thing. When you put your hands together in this mudra, you make a universal gesture, a cosmic" gesture. You make the dharmadatu here. You make the realm of all existence, here. And you confirm it, it s acknowledged, by your samadhi, your sam a ta, your equilibrium, your settling where you are, which is your samadhi. So you confirm, you seal it, meet it, you acknowledge it by your samadhi. Your samadhi is inviting all things, all beings in the world to be here, or acknowledged to be here. In that sense, it is universal, cosmic. So as soon as you put your hands in this mudra, every one and every thing is here 3

with you. You sit with everything. And you sit in the service of everything, and you sit because of everything. Everything supports you and you support everything. You meet everything, and everything meets you. This is the center of the world. There are many, many centers, but when you have taken this mudra, this is the center of the world. And also all the fingers represent Buddhas, Bodhisattvas, Arhats, Shravakas, Prateka Buddhas, the deva realm, human realm, asura realm, realm of the jealous deities, the hungry ghosts, animals, the hell realm. They are maps, or categories, psychological states, or beings. So the symbology of the mudra, if you want to boil it down, basically says, Everything is here." It s universal. Everybody is with you. The hell realm is here with you, the heavenly realm is with you, the Buddhas are here with you, the Bodhisattvas are with you." So it s a really auspicious mudra, in a certain sense. As I get older, more familiar with sitting sesshins and daily sitting, they get less busy. It s not like I don t have thought streams, or flickerings of thoughts, or have periods where my mind is distracted. But definitely it s less busy in that I m not trying to meditate, or be a meditator. I just sit down, that s enough. I m happy to do it, sometimes! Michael Newhall k Asesshinisasittingmarathonlastingfromtwodaystoamonth. IntheSotoZentradition, the length of a sesshin is often seven days, in which sitting periods of 30 to 40 minutes are alternated with walking meditation, meals, sleep, and work. My approach to sesshin, in the early seventies, was first influenced by my experience with weekend psychodrama marathons." Webster s Dictionary defines marathon" as an endurance contest," referring to some kind of race, but anyone who finishes a marathon can be regarded as a winner! Moreover, when a group of people stay together in a room for a long time, it can be kind of like a pressure cooker. In Zen practice, the schedule, and silence, provide some protection against the pressures of group interaction. On the other hand, one s mind is free to play with itself, so to speak! At Haiku Zendo, Kobun introduced us to sesshin sometime in the early seventies with a one-day series of 40-minute sittings, telling us that if we could do that, we could do a sesshin. The impression I had from listening to him was that sesshin was a necessary part of Zen practice, certainly if one hoped to attain enlightenment. Sesshin loomed as a mountain to be climbed and Kobun implied that it was not going to be easy. To my knowledge, no one in our sangha had much, if any, experience with sesshin, so we were pretty excited about learning how to do it. There was so much to learn: Schedule, meals, work periods, keeping time, getting up at 5 AM, working together, and pacing ourselves in order to keep going. Sesshin jobs were explained and assigned by Kobun: Ino, Tenzo, Shika, Doan, etc. We needed instruction in oryoki," opening and putting away our eating bowls. For a couple of years our experience at Haiku Zendo included weekend sesshins which started Friday evening and ended Sunday afternoon. It has been more than 40 years, so what I can write about that time is based on brief glimpses into my faded memory. Practically, Tenzo had the biggest job, as cooking for 30 people was much harder than cooking at home! Naturally there had to be kitchen helpers, who did not always agree on how to get a job done, so if personalities were going to clash, 4

they clashed in the kitchen. And there was the serving job, which included kneeling to serve the sitters, carrying water for tea and washing bowls, and collecting the offering for hungry ghosts. One time I had an angry exchange in the kitchen after I discovered during outdoor kinhin that someone had disposed of the offering on a stepping stone in our host s well-manicured garden! I thought this was thoughtless and disgusting, complaining about it in the kitchen, so another student snapped at me, You don t have enough faith!" Well! We had different religious backgrounds, but these kinds of complaints and temper outbursts weren t part of our practice, needless to say! Also, some people maintained full-time jobs in their daily lives, supporting families, while many of us were unemployed or working part time, or housewives," and these differences in life style affected our relationships with each other. Myself, I had divorced, and lived with my boyfriend. Both of us were unemployed, devoting ourselves to spiritual" pursuits. We lived quite comfortably on $300 a month, as I recall. Before discovering Zen practice, I had trailed along with my boyfriend, going to India, visiting various gurus" there and in the Bay Area, without finding anything sensible or satisfactory to my skeptical nature. It was a huge relief to find a teacher and practice which allowed me some peace without insulting my intelligence. Once Tenzo (an engineering student) wanted me to wash each piece of spinach separately and I angrily refused, plunging all the spinach into a sink full of water. I assumed he was trying to preserve vitamins while I just wanted to get the job done. We were all such amateurs in this practice, with different attitudes toward and experiences with religion, cooking, housework, men s and women s roles, and money, to name just a few areas. We were living in California, in the seventies, and many of us had rebelled against what we saw as middle class values, while others seemed to combine them comfortably with Zen practice. Ifeltthatsesshinwasaveryspiritualthingtodo,andeveryacthadaspiritualsignificance. Surprising to me, being eager to sit zazen and follow a Japanese traditional practice did not guarantee compatibility! One of Kobun s jobs was to bring us together in spite of our differences. Facing the wall while sitting zazen seemed isolating, at first. Kobun told us this was actually facing the world, not turning away from the world, and eventually it felt like a safe way to sit. But then there was the kyosaku." Kobun had us take turns walking slowly around the zendo during zazen, carrying the wooden staff used for hitting on the shoulders to relieve tension. When someone wanted to be hit, they bowed as the kyosaku came behind them and would receive a blow on each shoulder. I can t remember when this practice was stopped, but vividly remember my own shame and mortification when I accidentally hit a woman on the ear! She actually wept from the pain, and I apologized profusely. Years later she said she had forgotten this incident, to my relief. But soon there was no more kyosaku. Also, years later, I found out that, when he was in charge of training at Eiheji, Kobun had stopped using the kyosaku with most monks. In spite of that decision, he must have decided we in America could benefit from the discipline which the kyosaku represented, but found out it was not efficacious in the wrong hands! Haiku Zendo sesshins were often held at a youth hostel in the foothills about an hour s drive away from Haiku Zendo. This facility had rustic cabins, few bathrooms, and a large garden. Work period usually involved cleaning or gardening. For me, these weekend sesshins seemed to last a long time. After those two days, I definitely felt that I had climbed a mountain. Sitting for 40 minutes could be grueling, and sleeping in a crowded room difficult, 5

on the first night. On the other hand, there were the kinds of rewards that come when everyone is practicing together. One of the memorable parts, for me, was being awakened in the dark by the tinkling of a small bell that traveled from room to room, calling us all to zazen. On Saturday this was a painful wrenching from my bed, but on Sunday morning, it was a delicious sound, as if I d traveled to a peaceful place somewhere far away, and now I could bring this peaceful feeling to the zafu. Coming home on Sunday, everything in daily life seemed so easy and luxurious, and free, and I had extra energy for the next day. A profound sense of accomplishment came with this new feeling, although nothing in my daily life had really been accomplished. It seemed that Kobun was able to instill this sense of accomplishment. But it was not just the zazen, rather, it was the whole experience which we shared. Sitting, chanting, working, learning, sleeping together in a new place, was an intimate experience of mutual effort directed toward the unknown experience of enlightenment. Iwaslearningtoappreciateordinarymomentsinmylife. Inowbelievethatzazenwasjust the centerpiece, and everything around it was part of a whole experience, everything equally valuable and important. For some people, the sitting was undoubtedly the most difficult part of sesshin. For me, sitting often seemed like a relief from the feeling of incompetence which attended all the other tasks. The last ten minutes or so of a 40-minute sitting period was sometimes hard, but the rest was like coming back home. It was cosy, just looking at a wall, just being with myself. That is what I appreciated the most, no pressure, no judging. And then there was silence. Work period and kitchen work did require talking, just to explain what needed to be done, but otherwise, silence was encouraged at sesshin. One did not need to greet others with, Hi," Hello," or even with a smile. A bow was enough. It was gratifying to trust that the other person would not be annoyed or disappointed if you didn t acknowledge them in the customary way. And it was not necessary to go out of your way to bow. And, of course, other sounds, especially birds, were easy to hear and enjoy. When surrounded by silence, there seemed to be a beginning, middle, and end to each sound. I was grateful for the sounds, when they had silence before and after them. It made the silence even more beautiful. One way of breaking silence is chanting, so the combination of meal chants and oryoki added to my pleasure in eating. The food tasted delicious to me. Once I brought home some leftover soup from sesshin and found that, at home, it tasted like dishwater! Seventy-two labors brought us this food, we should know how it comes to us." Chanting this appreciation before eating, part of the oryoki ritual, focused my mind and added to my hunger. I had to focus because it was so easy to make a mistake with oryoki, unlike zazen, where no one, hopefully, can see your mistakes! Oryoki also protected against greed, I painfully learned, as one had to eat everything in the bowl in a hurry, or suffer the humiliation of asking for a container to put in uneaten food. In the early days, we all struggled with oryoki, and that was okay. More recently, it has been a little humiliating for me that I can t remember where to place the spoon, or how to tie the knot! I learned that kinhin, walking meditation, also helped me to slow down my mind and move at the same time. Plus I could also leave the zendo to go to the bathroom or get something from my room with a minimum of disturbance to others practice. The idea was that, doing kinhin, a person watching from a distance could not see me move. Discovering how to approach tasks in work period was another new experience. Some jobs seemed pretty strenuous, like digging, or extremely delicate, like cleaning the incense urn. It was learning 6

and doing at the same time, also accepting that the job often took longer than the time alloted. Kobun taught that whatever we were doing was the most important thing we could possibly be doing, although I could never fully understand or explain why. Sometimes Kobun s lectures didn t make much sense to me, and sometimes even he seemed to share this confusion, as he spoke slowly, haltingly. I really had to slow down to listen to him. Partly because of his hesitating speech, but more because he managed, in spite of the limitations of language, to get across to me that he really knew what he was talking about, Kobun communicated a sense of wonder. Yet the pauses seemed endless, forcing me to let go of my eagerness to hear the next idea or conclusion. I was surprised to realize that this person, who was expressing in English what he was thinking in Japanese, really did feel connected to all life, and to realize that I was, too. Since sesshins led by Kobun were separated by long absences during which he traveled and lived and taught in other locations, his state of mind varied when it came time to give a talk. He did not conceal his emotions. He was sometimes sad or full of regret about his own flaws and mistakes, as well as his vulnerabilities. He never preached. And yet, even when he was fumbling with his English words, Kobun was still at ease. I could accept his teaching because he did not put it forward. It just poured out of him. Finally, it needs to be acknowledged that although Kobun encouraged all people to do zazen, he emphasized sitting on a zafu with crossed legs. Yet there is no doubt that he was just as committed to helping teach meditation in any position, including seiza and chair-sitting. Judy Cosgrove k There may come a time when sitting in a cross-legged position for zazen just doesn t work anymore. It may be your knees, your inner thighs, or some other delicate body part that just won t allow it. I used to sit Burmese style and had no problems until suddenly my hair started to turn a bit gray, and I was surprised to find my knees (after about fifteen minutes) were complaining. I tried meditating on the pain, tried meditating on mu to ignore the pain, but it just didn t work. All I could think about was, I can t do this. Yet meditation is one of the most important things I do for my own wellbeing (and hopefully the wellbeing of others). Fortunately I had two men in my Sangha at that time who sat in seiza, one using pillows and the other using a bench. It is possible to sit seiza without a pillow, kneeling, with the buttocks resting on the upturned feet, which form an anatomical cushion. Or you can use a pillow to keep the weight off your ankles. A third way of sitting seiza is to use the seiza bench. It keeps all the weight off your feet and legs and helps to keep your spine straight. I tried using pillows... the zafu under my buttocks or between my legs, but I could never get it quite right. Then I ordered a seiza bench and I ve never looked back. Seiza in Japanese means proper sitting. It is used in Japan for formal sittings, such the tea ceremony. Although it is probably easier if one has grown up with sitting in this position, still one can learn to sit this way and find relative comfort while meditating. (There will be some people who cannot sit in this position of course. There is some pressure on the knees and legs that might not be comfortable.) I do not find much difference sitting in a seiza position than sitting the usual cross-legged position. It may seem strange to be up a 7

bit higher than the meditators next to you, and if you like the feeling of being anchored to mother earth, that will change. However, I find sitting seiza easier to keep a good spinal position and stay straight with the shoulders lined up with the ears. I tend to slowly lean forward or to the side in the traditional position and this doesn t happen to me sitting seiza. Also for long all-day sittings or sesshins, it can be helpful to switch between cross-legged and seiza positions. I highly recommend a seiza bench. There are several kinds available, both flat and angled. What the bench does is take the weight of your body off your legs. If you don t use a bench it is easy for the legs and feet to fall asleep. Using a bench you slide your legs under the bench, sit back on it, legs a little bit apart and center your weight on the bench until you can lift your spine in a comfortable seated position. You should feel stable, centered and your spine should feel straight but not stiff. Itisquiteeasytokeepthespine nice and straight in this position. Tuck your chin in just a bit, and hands in mudra position or on your knees. Most people find that a bench which comes with a flat pillow is more comfortable. You might discover it is helpful to place a pillow in your lap to lift up your hands, although that will depend on your own body type. Also, if you are especially tall or short you might want to have a bench made to your comfort level. The most important thing is to try to sit in the seiza position. Borrow someone s bench or go to a shop that sells meditation materials and try one out. It might work for you. Kate Abbe k Chair sitting lacks the balance and stability floor sitting provides. Although feet are in direct contact with the floor, the body seems to sit in air, so all the natural small movements of floor sitting are slightly amplified in a chair, and one moves as a blade of grass moves slightly in a small breeze. At the same time, uprightness of spine, torso, belly, lungs, breath can be identical to floor sitting. With a thin cushion under us, we sit on the edge of the chair seat, feet flat on the floor, thighs at a slight downward angle, equal weight on the sit-bones. The classical instructions to tuck the chin, align the ears, relax shoulders, are the same in either position. Although at first, a new necessity to sit in a chair instead of a zafu can feel like a come down and a loss, knowing there is no need to stop practice when the body begins to falter, one can feel profound gratitude for a practice we can continue for a lifetime. Angie Boissevain Editor s Note As far as I am aware, sesshin talks given during the first couple of years with Haiku Zendo students were not recorded, or preserved. The basis of the present text is transcribed and edited recordings of Kobun s sesshin talks between 1974 and 1993. After 1980 these were held at Jikoji Zen Temple, although some of the material also presented here comes from Monday Morning Class, held during the early 70 s in various homes. Angie Boissevain, who has dedicated much of her life to preserving Kobun s teaching, transcribed most of the talks. Without her continuing effort in typing out the words from audio tapes, tapes which were difficult to decipher, there would be no record of his words. He never wrote them down in 8

English, and never spoke from notes, making frequent references to Buddhist history and stories from memory. Quick checks on spelling and references to Buddhist teachings involved many visits to numerous books and websites. Sanscrit or Pali terms were put in italics when first introduced, and romanized Japanese terms in quotation marks. It seemed to make sense to eliminate the italics and quotation marks if the terms were repeated many times. On the other hand, some terms, such as vipassana, and shamatha, which were not commonly used in Kobun s teaching, were more appropriately kept in italics. This text is divided into four sections, each representing a sesshin named for an aspect of Buddha s life and teaching. Rohatsu sesshin is in memory of Buddha s enlightenment, Denkoeisinhonoroftheteachingrelationship,Tanjo-ecelebratesBuddha sbirth,andnehan-e, the Buddha s final Nirvana. Subjects were organized within these broad themes, although Kobun, himself, often varied his lectures according to what struck him as appropriate for whatever was happening in his and students minds. Here, it made sense to focus on zazen practice more intensely in the text chosen for Rohatsu, and Buddha s teachings in the form of Precepts, for Nehan-e. Judy Cosgrove Introduction The way to yourself is the longest way and the hardest way," says Carl Jung. Everybody would pay anything, his whole fortune, to avoid going to himself.... The way to the self is amostpainfulandshockingthingandonedoesnotwonderatallthesedifficulties in the road...so many desires not to find the road. To sign up for the seven day silent retreat called, sesshin," is to travel this very road. Indeed, the guiding intention of sesshin is not to avoid, but to consciously, perhaps even courageously, choose the long, hard way to self-discovery. What is avoided, however, is any form of intellectual knowledge, theory, or accumulation of facts about the self. Sesshin is not designed as an opportunity to solve personal problems or even to attain a special state of mind. Life has to be freed and lived, instead of being known," said Kobun. Knowing never satisfies." Upon entering sesshin,, one deliberately leaves knowing behind in favor of not knowing, of direct, personal experience of just being. One of Jung s favorite stories, entitled, The Rainmaker," captures the spirit of sesshin. It tells of a severe drought in the Chinese city of Kiao -Chou where crops were shriveling, animals dying and citizens were on the verge of starvation. Rituals of all kinds were performed to induce rain, but without success. Rumor had it that there lived a Rainmaker in a distant province, reputed to have magical control over the weather; and so he was summoned to the city. A tiny, old and wrinkled fellow appeared to great fanfare. Alighting from the official carriage, he looked about, sniffed the air, pointed to a small cottage on the side of a distant mountain and asked to be allowed to reside there in uninterrupted isolation for three days. So it was agreed, and three days passed uneventfully. On the fourth day, however, torrential rains fell upon the city. In great jubilation, a huge crowd of townsfolk made its way to the Rainmaker s cottage to thank him. Puzzled, the old man replied that he did not have 9

anything to do with making it rain. What, then, have you been doing these three days?" he was asked. Oh, I can explain that," he responded, I come from a place where things are in order, where things happen when they re supposed to happen. Here, things are out of order, and so being in a disordered place, it was necessary for me to wait three days until I could come round to being with things as they are supposed to be. Having restored the order inside myself, naturally the rains came when they were supposed to; and they will stop when they are supposed to stop." Sesshin provides a kind of metaphorical (sometimes literal) cottage on a mountainside, a refuge for those, much like the Rainmaker, who in the face of some form of disorder, intend to come back into congruence with things as they are supposed to be - with themselves just as they are. It is certainly easy enough to find a variety of definitions for the word, sesshin." What may be more useful, as well as more interesting, is to consider Kobun s special understanding of its nature and function and his own style of conducting sesshin. He often translated the term from the original Japanese as setsu: yoga nen: attention to conscious thought and intuition zai: let it stay, let them dwell shin: mind (heart/mind) Thus, we might describe sesshin as a gathering or binding together in awareness of all that arises just as it is. Moreover, as sesshin is also a group experience, we might understand it as a gathering and binding together in sangha (spiritual community) of all that we are just as we are. Sesshin is often described as an intensive meditation retreat, suggesting that the experience is more concentrated, more demanding, more difficult, and thus, perhaps more advanced" than ordinary sitting. But Kobun preferred not to treat it as an intensive, claiming that the experience was broader" and more basic." If anything, sesshin can be considered an experience deliberately designed and structured to radically reduce intensity. The contents of each day are predictably the same. A simple schedule of waking and sleeping, seated and walking meditation, three simple meals and work practice, worked out to the minute, is distributed to all participants and publically posted. The schedule may also include a formal service with chanting, private meetings (dokusan) with, and public talks (teisho) by aguidingteacher. Variousofficers are assigned specific roles to relieve participants of routine responsibilities and opportunities for distraction. No need to watch the clock: Doan keeps time for everyone. No need to plan, cook or clean up after meals: Tenzo and Fukuten do that. No need to solve logistical or housekeeping problems: the Ino and the Shika take care of those. If there are rules" in sesshin, they can be found in the details of the schedule. Indeed, one often hears experienced retreatants claim that during sesshin they can release the demands of self-conscious control and just become the schedule." The considerable effort required to establish a schedule and conduct a sesshin is designed to create an effortless environment in which retreatants can turn their attention and energy 10

inward. Kobun s way of conducting sesshin included lifting all rules except those essential to supporting the way of each individual. Participants were permitted to freely enter and leave the zendo. There was no forcing, no external pressure to sit, no kyosaku. Sitting was to be totally self-motivated. Even if one were unwilling or unable to attend an entire sesshin, partaking in even a small portion of the experience could be rewarding. Stepping into the zendo where people sit day after day, one can feel welcome and share in the committed energy. A willingness to participate in the schedule and honor the structure is all that is requested. One may step in and then step out, having tasted something of significance. You must find the effort supported by an internal fire," said Kobun. This is the true sesshin." Certain conditions help to keep this fire burning. Silence is the first of these conditions. It is less a rule, and more a natural expression of the way to become intimate with oneself: being and living without the need to express opinions, preferences and judgments, without argument, interpretation or analysis, without deference to social protocols. When we sit and live together for a few days, without question we accept each other. Without asking others what s on their mind, we can sense where people are." And we can begin, also, to sense where we are. Stillness is a second condition. In the attempt to sit in one spot for hours and hours, day after day, there must be something you are working on. It is not a trifling matter! You are not a resting bird on a tree branch. You are not simply resting awhile on the cushion." In stillness one becomes available to everything that arises. In stillness there is no grasping and no resisting. In stillness one can observe an unfolding clarity, comparable to the way the sun, gradually rising, brings all things sharply into focus. Sesshin, says, Kobun, is a rare opportunity to confirm that your intuition is really there. There is much information on T.V., magazines, copied information, second hand, third hand, but it just makes your mind busy." Finally, safety, the feeling of being in a protected place, is essential. The Rainmaker knew this when he asked for a secluded cottage. Because the work he needed to do was radical, i.e., going to the root of his being, it carried many risks, vulnerabilities and unknowns which required trustworthy support. Similarly, those who choose to leave behind the responsibilities of caring for family, work and a wide range of worldly activities to commit precious time to making a long, hard inner journey need to be deeply supported. Thus, sesshin is most often held in a simple, secluded, peaceful environment, in an atmosphere of trust. Aguidingteacheriskeytotheestablishmentofsilence,stillnessandsafety. Without having to impose these as rules to be obeyed, the teacher embodies silence, stillness and trust such that his/her very presence constitutes their establishment. Sitting in the presence and energy of a fully realized person sets a palpable standard. Kobun did not regard himself as a guru." Though he had rigorous spiritual training from a very early age, and personally manifested the highest standards of practice, he was passionate in his commitment to opening the opportunity for everyone, not just an elite few, to sit - in their own way, on their own terms. Again and again, he insisted upon the importance of having faith in oneself, in one s individual life, as the only reliable authority. During sesshin, there are regular opportunities to meet privately in dokusan, a one-onone meeting with the teacher. Kobun spoke of his role in dokusan as someone who is waiting to meet the someone ready to be met. He encouraged private meetings only when there was astrongneedandastrongpresence. WithKobun,dokusanbecameanopportunitynotjust 11

for asking questions and addressing issues of practice, but also for experiencing an intimate and authentic meeting. Teisho, a teacher s formal talk offered daily to the whole sangha usually centers on the Dharma. Though he had a remarkable command of the history, language and principles of Zen, Kobun s talks tended to be less scholarly and more personal, inspirational and encouraging. He was more a socratic than a rabbinical teacher, more a kind of midwife helping his students to give birth to their own truth than an authority on truth whose students are privileged to receive it. He was not the kind of guru who Alan Watts described as someone who picks your pocket and sells you back your watch." Again and again, Kobun encouraged everyone to accept themselves and their lives just as they are. Indeed, those who practiced regularly with Kobun found what they characterized as an open container" atmosphere -awelcomecontrasttothe pressurecooker"atmosphereinmanydharmacenters. To have final, undestructive confidence about yourself as Triple Treasure is final recognition of receiving Buddha Precepts." In sesshin, the Zen teacher sits, walks, eats and works together with the sangha, maintaining the integrity of practice in every thing he/she does - providing not only a model of realization, but of the wisdom and compassion of spiritual friendship. A guiding teacher who is fully present with the sangha can exemplify the way to slow down, to stop and to simplify, teaching by example that, when sitting, if there is just sitting, there is zazen; that when walking, if there is just walking, there is kinhin; that in eating, if there is just eating, there is oryoki, and that in cleaning up, if there is just clean-up, there is soji. So sesshin unfolds in uninterrupted regularity day after day, hour after hour, moment after moment. Within this solid, simple framework, there can be, and often is, extremely fragile, complex inner activity. Those who have attended many sesshin eventually discover patterns - though not always predictable - in its unfolding. Many, including Kobun, have characterized these patterns in terms of a sesshin s seven day sequence. On day one, there may be much physical and mental agitation. Though we have chosen to retreat from the busyness of everyday life, the inertia of the racing mind and restless body takes over. Suddenly, we discover that we are an unstoppable train, separated from our grounding in the present moment and our connectedness with all things. The engine of discursive thought races on uncontrollably. We try, but the brakes don t work, and we are shocked at how difficult it is to adjust. The prospect of a restless, agitated week can feel overwhelming. On day two, we may become beginners again, realizing that we must start from scratch. Kobun describes this as realizing that you don t know what you are doing or where you are at." Finally starting to slow down, we begin to see, though dimly, the old, familiar stories, the ruts, the stuck places. On day two, a disparity between our inner and outer life can become more obvious which realization carries with it frustration at being unable to resolve it. On day one, the physical side of sitting may have seemed surprisingly easy. On day two, the legs, shoulders, lower back, neck begin to hurt. Some form of physical pain intrudes and disrupts. On day three, fatigue may set in, weariness from resisting bodily pain and holding on too tightly to self. With fatigue comes the arising of what we do not wish to see, what has taken great energy to avoid, deny or repress. We go round and round in emotional distress and/or physical restlessness, escaping regularly into pleasurable fantasies so as not to confront the 12

shadowy places. Great doubt may arise: This is taking too much time, nothing is being accomplished." We feel guilt at leaving so much undone at home, important responsibilities piling up. Physical pain may become so intense as to feel unbearable. But all of these hindrances can give way to a deeper sense of the rightness of sitting, that the pain can be fully embraced, that it is really the very basis of our life. Acertaineaseoftenarrivesondayfour,aconsequenceofhavingletgoofsomuchselfcentered thinking and resistance. Without the familiar stories, worries, fantasies and fears, we seem lost, having little to hang on to. Kobun calls this stage, passing the ridge of the high mountain." When the fog clears, we can see that instead of reaching the peak, there are still many even higher mountains to climb. This loss of bearings, instead of signaling defeat, brings a spaciousness of mind, openness to possibility and a surge of creative energy. There is a glimpsing of the fact that not only are we sitting, but that we are being sat." The senses often become more alive on the fifth day, and the experience of each moment becomes more vivid and nuanced. The focus shifts from ourselves to our surroundings. Subtle energies, small things are more noticeable because not filtered by thought. There is a growing sense of acceptance, even of gratitude, for things as they are, a settling of self in self, just as it is. Though ever-present, bodily pain no longer dominates awareness. More and more, the mind sits. On day six, a strong sense of self-confidence sometimes arises. The mind is stretched." It feels harder than ice, than a diamond, hotter than boiling water." At other times, the burning gives way to light and a boundless freedom. We find an ability to rest in total aloneness and in profound interconnectedness. Having persevered through many hindrances, we discover the power to accept and to integrate everything, absolutely everything that arises. Each person, individually," says Kobun, embraces the whole situation." The seventh and last day of sesshin is usually a quiet celebration. The experience completed, we can look back with a confirming and an embracing mind, a mind fully stretched." The body is tired but settled. The last few days, people don t sleep much. It s kind of resting with a very deep, short sleep. Still your mind was awake during that sleep. You noticed every single sound, and yet your mind was completely resting." Out of this deep place of rest comes an overwhelming feeling of gratitude. Much of the last day is devoted to expressions of gratitude to those individuals who made the sesshin possible. There is much embracing, bowing, gifts of incense and exchange of personal mementos. But the gratitude is far greater than can be exhausted in these particulars. People come together to sit together as a consequence of searching of ancestors, of all beings. All beings," says Kobun, come together." In the course of many days dwelling alone in silent stillness, one becomes aware of the profound support coming from a multiplicity of sources. Starting from Shakyamuni Buddha, and then radiating out to numberless buddhas preceding and succeeding him, our vast ancestral line transmits the way to each individual. We come to understand through direct experience what is meant by Zen as a special transmission outside the scriptures. No dependence on words or letters." A gift of such magnitude breaks the heart open and requires a sangha to receive and care for it. The ancestral line manifests in the very singular bodies of those who gather together in azendotositdayafterday. Whileasolitaryretreatcanoccurinahermitage,sesshinis a group experience. A deep, inexplicable bond develops between those who sit together in silence and stillness. Those who take their seats together, whether for one hour, one day or 13

one week, are supported on every side by one another. When fatigue, restlessness, doubt threaten to break resolve, those sitting firmly on every cushion in the room act as pillars to hold the integrity of practice. Ultimately, one is able to become the self which is connected on all sides not only with human beings, but with the entire community of life, with everything that is. The most profound experience of gratitude is directed to this vast sangha. The important thing is not the structure of zazen," says Kobun, or the idea or the material aspect. The important thing is each person s spirit and the coming together of these people. That is called sangha. Whether they gather on a mountain or a river, sangha exists. Actually, sangha exists alone, and when people appear and recognize it, sangha exists. In the same way, all beings are very beautiful existences, but recognition of the beauty of existence is very important for each existence. This is the difference between wisdom and ignorance. This recognition is called enlightenment." Whether sitting for an hour alone under a tree, or for seven days with twenty people in the basement of an old warehouse, the practice of Zen is the expression of enlightenment. The account presented here of the unfolding of sesshin can be considered one way to express enlightenment, the process of realizing awakening. It bears some resemblance to the famous Ox-Herding Story in which ten pictures and their accompanying verses use the relationship between a man and his ox to follow the various stages on the way to awakening - from its almost inconspicuous beginning, to its slow ripening, and finally, to its full culmination. While sesshin does not aim at a goal, and is not guided by any gaining ideas, it does affirm the truth of enlightenment. The culminating stage in both the search for the ox and the completion of sesshin is the same. That stage is variously called, Returning To Help Sentient Beings," In The World," Entering The City With Bliss-Bestowing Hands," Entering The Marketplace With Gift-Bestowing Hands." All of these formulations agree in one important respect: the awakened one naturally returns to the ordinary world to serve others, all beings everywhere, with wisdom and compassion. Sesshin ends. Retreatants pack up their sleeping bags and toiletries and travel the road back to family, friends and colleagues, to the full range of conventional roles and their attendant responsibilities, joys and sorrows. We came together like this, saying it was a sesshin, twenty people were to meet," says Kobun, Actually, something which we don t know, happened." Meido Barbara Anderson Table of Contents Section I: Tanjo-e Sesshin - Assembly on Buddha s Birth Chapter One: Something Brought You Here Summary: Kobun introduces students to sesshin by talking about the feelings that lead a person to practice. He draws a parallel between the Buddha s search and the individual s search for understanding. Beginning with the idea of basic ignorance, which is unavoidable 14

and not removed by conceptual knowledge, he directs us to place our faith in sitting practice, "trusting [our] whole presence as Buddha nature." Further, he states that silence is important for this practice, allowing the mind to "recover its nature," even as this practice is based in the body, which is not separate from mind. The Inner Battle of You Avidya Buddha Nature Silence Tapas Chapter Two: Why Buddha Left Home Summary: Buddha nature "drives us to practice," and is also the source of our ability to maintain balance in the face of the constant change in our lives. "The drive to seek enlightenment is like a fire," which causes some to go to a monastery and others to "keep a monk s mind" in daily life. It includes an awareness of independence, aloneness, within our interdependence. Kobun discusses some details of Buddha s birth and early life, and his discovery of the transiency of life, comparing the Buddha s experience to his own experiences in India, where he "felt Buddha s life very close." Transiency Bodhicitta Buddha s Birth Buddha and Others Suffering Chapter Three: Mara Summary: The third day of sitting is like "a person who is approaching the peak of a mountain...at the same time, one is very exhausted..." Kobun talks about trying to control breath, control pain, as part of long sitting practice, and Buddha s teaching that "life, itself, is in pain." He addresses personal problems as a form of pain, which can be faced with the right attitude. Relationships and transiency are sources of pain, so Kobun reminds us that "Buddha was a twisting teacher..." who pointed out "how fragile, how transient, and how impossible is the life we have got." He talks about the longing for perfection and the impossibility of attaining it. The difficulties we face are "armies of Mara" who tried to destroy Buddha, but failed. "All Beings are Nothing but Pain" Personal Problems 15