In the last several series of the UnMind podcast, we have been exploring some ways of intentionally bringing Zen practice to bear on various situations and circumstances of daily life in America. By extension these might apply anywhere on the globe today, where revolutionary changes in technology and exploding population growth have taken hold. Again, as Matsuoka Roshi would often say, “Civilization conquers us.” 

In navigating the deeper waters of Buddhism, this world — including so-called “civilization” — is sometimes referred to as the “Ocean of Samsara.” Samsara is likewise referred to as the “Saha world of Patience,” in that it tries our patience — unrelentingly, and on a daily basis. Just when things seem to be going swimmingly, “Someone is always coming along to take the joy out of life,” as Grandma Nelly would often say. “Saha” is defined on Wikipedia as:

It is the place where both good and evil manifests and where beings must exercise patience and endurance (kṣānti).

Buddha likened his Dharma teachings to a raft, one that we ride — read: “cling to for dear life!” — sailing across the ocean of Samsara to the “other shore,” Nirvana. There are various turning points in the process of navigating the roiling waters — some positive, some negative — as with everything else in life. Whether they appear as positive or negative is largely a matter of interpretation, of course. The famous Ox-Herding Pictures illustrate various turning points on the Path, generalized to fit most anyone’s journey into what I call “The Original Frontier,” the title of my first book on Zen. By the original frontier I mean to point to the frontier of mind, itself. This is the frontier that Shakyamuni Buddha discovered, and entered, some 2500 years ago. It beckons to us still, today.

      Perhaps the first turning-point in the process of spiritual awakening precedes discovering the hoof-prints of the ox, the first of the ten illustrations. These marks are sometimes interpreted as indicating one’s first inkling of the existence of the teaching, or buddha-dharma. The hoofprints resemble brush strokes, the obvious analogy being to the written record, which consisted of scrolls of painted calligraphy in ink in those times. Translation into today’s printed book format comprises the medium by which most of us first stumble across buddha-dharma.

      However, something else — a prior turning-point— has to precede this event. In order to begin the quest for enlightenment, one has to feel that something is missing in their life. Otherwise, why would you even be looking? Master Dogen touches on this in his tract called Genjokoan (“actualizing the fundamental point”):

When you first seek dharma

      you imagine that you are far away from its environs

But dharma is already correctly transmitted

      you are immediately your original self

We are blithely skipping along with our everyday life, fat and happy, when one day it occurs to us: Is that all there is? “What’s it all about, Alfie?” However normal our circumstances may seem at the time, and however rich and full our life may appear, there seems to be something that is not quite right, something missing. Matsuoka Roshi emphasized this as the source of our anxiety, uncertainty, and the very unsatisfactoriness of Buddhism’s definition of dukkha, or suffering. Everyone feels this dis-ease, and some eventually come to Zen, to find what is missing.

      Other turning points in life can precipitate a crisis of confidence, one which drives us to Zen in the first place, or makes us question whether Zen is really right for us. Or whether it works at all, for anyone. Let’s take a brief look at a few of the more obvious turning-points that come up with some frequency in life. These are FAQs brought up in private interview (J. dokusan) or practice discussion, from time to time. Perhaps you may see yourself in one of these pictures.

Changing Jobs

One of the most stressful turning-points that many people face today, and with ever-increasing frequency, is the need to change jobs. This may come about through a personal decision, or one made by one’s employer. Or one’s partner may receive an offer they cannot refuse, but it requires moving to another part of the world. In any case, the resultant demand for engaging in a job search, interviewing, and starting the new job, can be fraught and disruptive.

      Some worry that they can not afford to continue their Zen practice during the transition, either from considerations of availability of time, or from a financial perspective, or both, as a supporting member of the Zen community. These judgments may not be true, or fully thought through, but the pressure feels very real at the time.

      Zen practice — at home, or in a community — should not really be considered as necessitating an expense of either time or money, certainly not an expensive proposition. Zen is about the middle way between extremes, all about finding and maintaining balance in all things. In this sense, Zen is free. And portable.

      When going through a job change, or any other stressful turning-point, you may need Zen meditation more than ever. It will help you to make the right choices and decisions, if you allow it. When you get back on your feet, and find yourself in a more stable position — financially and otherwise — there will be plenty of time and wherewithal to support your sangha, and your teacher. You really cannot afford not to continue practicing Zen, and even more so when you are in dire straits.

      “Zen will get you through times of no money better than money will get you through times of no Zen.” (With apologies to the Fabulous Furry Freak Brothers.)

Divorce

Divorce, along with its true antecedents — unrequited love, unfaithfulness, or irreconcilable differences — is an even bigger bugaboo in today’s society than losing your job. Though you might not think so, based on the treatment of divorce in pop media. It is often the theme of comedy; the butt of alimony jokes; a target of shadenfreude; and, in some recently publicized cases, even celebrated — with ceremonies akin to a wedding. Divorce often accompanies, or triggers, a change in employment and residential status as well. They say “bad things come in threes.” 

      It is tempting to suggest that, if you are against divorce, just don’t get married in the first place. This may sound less crass, and may make more sense, in the context of the life of monastics. But we do not pretend to be Zen monks or nuns. They surely have their critical turning-points as well. Householders may just have a lot more of them on a daily basis, especially given the complex society of today.

      I have been divorced once in my short life, and it is no fun. But the situation that led to the divorce was no bed of roses, either. Whatever the circumstances, divorce is definitely a turning-point. Whether it is “for better or worse” (a resonance on the wedding vows), it is, again, your call. If both sides are better off afterwards — as Buddha is said to have said about a “just war” — it may be considered a just divorce. Of course, there are always more than two sides to the dispute. Children often end up as pawns in the game, suffering even more short-term pain and long-term consequences than their parents do. Zen meditation is not a panacea, but can help to adjust to the new reality, even in these dire straits.

Empty Nesters

Speaking of parenting, there comes a time-of-life phase called “empty-nester,” at which point the rugrats are finally, and permanently (or so we hope) kicked out of the nest. Sometimes divorce follows on the heels of this exodus, and not coincidentally. The parents may keep the failed marriage together long past its shelf life, “for the sake of the children.” They may have decided to have children to “save the marriage” in the first place.

      In the context of professional market research, based on sociology, I suppose, there are various such “time-of-life” categories, tracing the normal flow of maturation, through biological and culturally-determined changes, from womb to tomb. Like most other models from the soft sciences, these are employed mainly to structure the marketing of goods and services.

      In the next episode of UnMind we will continue looking at turning points in our life, and how our practice of Zen meditation may help ease the transitions, and mitigate the sense of loss, as we move through the inevitable phases of “time-of-life.” As we witness the evolution of our own life, the evidence of the centrality of the teachings of Buddhism and Zen becomes ever more apparent, and not at all as pessimistic as they may have first appeared to us. The inevitability of aging, sickness and death, interpreted as negative developments in life, is accompanied by an increasing appreciation of their meaning and significance, and the importance of what we do with the opportunity. The good fortune of having been exposed to the Dharma and thereby being enabled to practice Zen and zazen in the context of the passing of time, is the real treasure of the Three Treasures. Please continue in your pursuit of Zen, no matter what stage of life you may be in.