Today is Sunday, June 30 2024. And this morning, I'm going to look at the simplicity of Zen practice. It's often said, that practice, whether you're doing a breath practice, or koan work, or shikantaza. Practice is incredibly simple. What complicates it. And what makes it feel difficult is squandering our attention. When we miss use our mind by pursuing thoughts. And that includes piling on more thoughts. Thoughts about how the practice isn't working. Nothing's happening. I'm not good at it. It's our, our dwelling in thoughts that cuts us off from directly, directly experiencing life purely simply, as it is. There's a old Zen story about the power of simple bare attention. And it appears in the three pillars of Zen. One day, a man of the people asked Master EQ. Will you please write for me some Maxim's of the highest wisdom? If you immediately picked up his brush, and wrote the word attention? Is that all? Will you not add some more? The man asked? If you then wrote two words, Attention, attention. At this, the man became irritable. Well, I really don't see much depth or subtlety in what you have just written. Then master EQ, wrote the same word three times running, Attention, attention, attention have angered the man demanded. What does this word attention mean anyway? And EQ replied, attention means attention. It sounds so simple. And it is it's radically simple. Attention is just attention. There's an American version of this teaching found in the writings of Henry David Thoreau. Instead of saying, Attention, attention, attention. He declared simplicity, simplicity, simplicity. For those unfamiliar with the row, he was a 19th century naturalist and transcendentalist, whose spiritual journey led him to live in solitude in the woods of Massachusetts for two years, between 1845 and 1847. And in his own words, he said, I went to the woods, because I wished to live deliberately, and not when I came to die, discover that I had not lived. For him, this meant to live a simple life. to live in harmony with nature to become intimate with it. So, he set out to rely on his own resources as much as possible. Although he did have support from friends, he kind of adopted a do it yourselfer, attitude and approach to living. Starting with building a small house along the shoreline of Walden Pond, he grew his own food, eating a diet diet, mainly of vegetables and fruit. Some which he found growing in the wild, but also beans that he planted. And his other activities were simple, walking, swimming, fishing, reading, writing, and also yoga and meditation. He kept a journal of his experience, which later became the basis of his famous book titled Walden. And in describing his, His purpose, His mission further, he said, I wanted to live deep, and suck out all the marrow of life. To live so sturdily and Spartan like, as to put to route all that was not life, to cut a broad swath and shave close to drive life into a corner and reduce it to its lowest terms.
Through his writings, he came to be greatly admired for his commitment to minimalist living and to the preservation of nature. Although critics later accused him of creating a duality between natural and urban spaces in other words, who is said to have romanticized wilderness to the point of separating it from the built environment, as if, as if neighborhoods and city streets are not part of nature, and vice versa. It's true, everything is nature. No matter where we are, including in a bustling city. A crowded airport terminal. No matter where we are, we can experience stillness of mind that comes with simple awareness without the added complications of thoughts and judgments about it. I sometimes hear Sangha members comment that the sound of lawn mowers or city traffic or even the stick the encouragement stick. The sounds are annoying, throwing sittings here at Arnold Park.
But when we're truly one, with things as they are there's no difference between the sound of a lawnmower and a bird and a stick. It's all just sound. And whatever particular qualities any given sound has. It passes. It's all in flux. We're in flux, we are flux.
If you're new to practice, you need to trust that over time line through persistence and faith in the process. You can experience clarity and calmness, even in the most turbulent situations
Thoreau had a lot more to say about the virtues of simplicity. So there's a few more quotes from him that I'd like to share. So here's another one. In proportion, as he simplifies his life, the laws of the universe will appear less complex. And solitude will not be solitude, nor poverty, poverty, nor weakness, weakness. The sounds a lot like Zen teaching. No mental constructs, no ideas, no labels. No solitude, no poverty, no weakness, no gain or loss. Just experience just the pure experience as it is. In Zen, we take this teaching even further, there's that old saying, In the beginning, mountains are mountains and rivers are rivers. Later, mountains are not mountains, and rivers are not rivers. And then still later, mountains are mountains and rivers are rivers.
This next quote is about mindfulness. Thoreau says, We should be blessed if we lived in the present always. And took advantage of every accident that be fell us like the grass which confesses the influence of the slightest do that falls on it.
Again, just pure Being there is no condition outside of our true nature. We could say that life is one accident, after another, and another. And our practice is simply to be present for it to be present for whatever arises
just that
here's another I do not get nearer, by a hair's breadth to any natural object, as long as I presume that high that I have an introduction to it. From some learned man, I do not get nearer by a hair's breadth to any natural object. So as long as I presume that I have an introduction to it, from some learned man, to conceive of it, with a total apprehension, I must for this 1,000th time I must for the 1,000th time approach it as something totally strange. If you would make acquaintance with the ferns, you must forget your botany in what book is this world and its beauty described
words mental constructs. missed the mark. Learn to know knowledge from books and ideas expressed in theories, explanations, philosophies. It's not the same as direct experience. It's not the same as looking directly, plainly. And it's the same with Zen practice. If you want to come to know, your true nature, put down the book, put down the podcast, put down the teisho. And sit.
Okay, here's one more. The rule is to carry as little as possible. The rule is to carry as little as possible. And this gets to the heart of Zen practice. Letting go putting down thoughts, ideas, prejudices, the pursuit of desires, all the things that we cling to, including the desire for enlightenment. Not holding on to anything, not even the Dharma. And each time, we make that little shift in attention back to our practice. That that's, that's what we're doing. Just a simple practice of turning and returning our attention to this to Mu, who, the breath
moment by moment. So simple. The same goes with routine activities, like walking, cooking, cleaning, doing chores, taking out the garbage just doing that single mindedly.
Of course, thoughts will arise. So while we're doing our best to keep our attention on what we're doing, say, washing our hands. Suddenly, we might notice that we're planning the weekend or thinking about whether or not we paid all our bills or rehearsing a conversation, or running through our complaint or complaints about this or that. It's not a problem, all you got to do is notice it and return to the practice caring as little as possible.
And this simplicity of practice of letting go is also expressed outwardly. For example, by how we arrange our environment, the spaces that we live and work in just as it was for Thoreau.
At the introductory workshop last weekend, there were several participants who mentioned to me that they were just so struck by the aesthetics of our Zen Center. very minimalist aesthetics. Not just here in the Zendo but in the link the main entrance The kitchen the garden and it is all deliberately designed and maintained to be sparse and uncluttered. Colors are muted there isn't much art hung on the walls aside from the occasional print or scroll here and there
there's nothing that's loud or jumping out grabbing our attention and again creating these tranquil conditions was in is deliberate both here at Arnold Park and at Chapin Mill
are external environment
is not separate from mind. So, an external environment that is free of distractions is ideal for an inner and inner environment that is free of distractions. Nothing separate or outside of us
there's also just the simple beauty of our what we call a quasi or semi monastic Zen Center. There's so much natural wood in the interior, warm tones, clean lines. And not only is it intentional, but it's the product of nearly 60 years of handcrafted work and care
as much as possible at our center, our staff and volunteers. Some who have woodworking and construction skills, do the work themselves as part of their practice.
That includes those who contribute to housekeeping, keeping daily cleaning. When we put loving care into all that we do, the end result is beautiful. And for those who aren't aware of the tradition of work practice one's impression upon walking into the center might be oh, this place is really kind of upscale kind of hoity toity. But when the buildings were purchased in the early years, first seven Arnold park where we're sitting right now, I think that was purchased in the late 60s. And then the second building five Arnold Park few years later, in the early 70s. When we got them, they were a bargain. They were in rough shape.
really rough shape.
The location seemed ideal because it was so close to the center of the city. And what transformed these buildings into what we're sitting in today is Sangha, the hands of Sangha
and the simple design and the absence of stuff of miscellany Yes, objects, clutter decorations. All of this can go a long way in helping to minimize distractions, so we can focus more fully on our practice. Thoughts can more readily settle when we're not being bombarded with stimuli and the tight tidiness of the space also matters. Keeping floors and surfaces clean, leaving no traces. This is something that those in residential training are asked to do, to leave no trace. And this isn't just because it's a communal living situation. And we need to respect one another. Because it matters to one's practice.
Especially if we haven't yet developed that attention muscle.
clearing away stuff and cleaning does have a freeing effect.
When we fill our spaces with stuff, it does feel like a burden. Go heavy weight. Think about when your room is really cluttered and messy. And what that feels like. And then what it feels like after you clean it. There's some lightness their mind and body mind in things are not to. And this is exactly why we encourage people to clean their room or their home before doing Jukai the taking of the precept ceremony or ahead of the New Year celebration. It's an opportunity for a fresh start. And I should mention, we don't have to wait until these special events come around. To do this work can do at any time. You can do spring cleaning any day. Clear away the clutter.
And then also, there's just the simple putting care into everything we do everything we touch our surroundings in addition to paring down and getting rid of what is unnecessary. Again, we can experience have a real release from them.
That said, at the same time, I think we should also recognize that becoming obsessive about cleanliness and tidiness, fixating on it. That's kind of attachment. wanting everything to be just so wanting everything to be perfect. This is a source of suffering. And it becomes especially painful when you hold yourself up to such high standards of perfection. And also impose it on other people causes a great deal of friction and tension in our relationships.
It's all about the Middle Way, the middle way. It's the most compassionate way.
There are other guidelines that relate to make maintaining an environment that is ideal for practicing as a group, as we do here at the center. And most of you know this, we encourage everyone to avoid wearing bright colors or clothing, with graphics as a way of supporting this atmosphere that is most conducive to practice. Some of us put on the brown robe, because it's the easiest thing to do. But it's not required. As long as your street clothes aren't eye catching. Again, there is a middle way though a little spot of color here and there is not likely going to be intrusive or harmful. Besides, we're keeping our eyes our eyes down. That's another important piece of simplifying one's practice keeping the eyes down.
And then we could also look at extraneous sounds. The middle way isn't cutting ourselves off. From the sense world. We're not trying to create a perfect, completely silent atmosphere. That would be cutting ourselves off. The middle ground is one that's in between the strict discipline and the lack of restraint somewhere in the middle there. And it does help us to let go of pursuing our preferences. Pursuing self interest and self indulgence, not clinging to either extreme. The holding on and the letting go.
And there's a lot more we could talk about in terms of the quieting aesthetic of the center. Because we do maintain silence as much as possible as appropriate, obviously during formal sittings, but also in other situations during work practice during formal meals. And even for those in the training program during off hours, we we ask everyone to do their part in keeping talking and other noises to a minimum not going overboard again the middle way, especially when you're in earshot of other people. Practices 24/7. The Zendo is open 24/7. And practice doesn't end when you walk out of the zango. In all of this, this uniformity and simplicity and how we practice together, all of it really a product of what Roshi Kapleau brought here after his 13 years of training in Japan
and for household practitioners, especially if you live locally. You know it's a wonderful opportunity to practice with others to volunteer and experience this space. It also can give you a lot of inspiration for your home space. Your mini Zendo or how you arrange your apartment or house. Speaking from experience Hands most of us need all the help, we can get the mutual support of fellow Sangha members, and the physical space that supports what supports us in our efforts.
And one other thing that's interesting to note is that this minimalist aesthetic that supports our practice runs so counter to mainstream culture. Especially views about decoration, mature materialism.
We kind of see x material excess as a mode of individual expression. We're so conditioned, to seek out bigger, better more. And it's reflected in our possessions, our wardrobe or jewelry, or car or home, or cell phone or other gadgets and devices. Some of us have multiples of these things. And not only is it about size and quantity of material stuff. But also we can devote a lot of time and energy and money into it all. Including adorning our appearance. As if how we wear our hair or how we dress is necessary. Absolutely necessary in order to express who we are our uniqueness as an individual. And bike by contrast, here at the center. Most of us wear simple clothes, nothing flashy, nothing potentially distracting. We sit shoulder to shoulder, we move together through the Zendo everything's you know, unified. We bow and do prostrations. We chant, as if one voice it's all all tangible expression of our true self. Our True Self that's no self.
So practice is a really a much needed counterbalance to our social conditioning. Or a habitual way of adding and accumulating rather than subtracting. We learn to live with less we learn that we lack nothing. Even when we have less we learn that there's incredible freedom in joy in subtraction
I'm gonna close by reading a couple of verses that bring this teaching to life even more. The first is by the early 13th century Rinzai master direito it's a short verse no umbrella getting soaked. I'll just use the rain as my rain coat
and then lastly from the Tang Dynasty, Chan Master Shi Yong Jun Ji Shia GCN.
Last year's poverty was not real poverty. This year's poverty is finally genuine poverty. In last year's poverty, there was still ground where I could plant my home in this year's poverty, not even the whole remains
