Part 5 (2/2)

Society tells you that you must suppress your urges for the good of society. Yet all of these same social codes are based upon a profound misunderstanding of who we truly are. They're based on the concept of the individual self. The concept of self relies upon past and future. ”I have a past. ” have a past. ”I have a future.” You say ” have a future.” You say ”I was made fun of as a child because of my horribly out-of-fas.h.i.+on shoes,” or fear that ” was made fun of as a child because of my horribly out-of-fas.h.i.+on shoes,” or fear that ”I will die some day in a freak accident with a bowling pin.” Where is that will die some day in a freak accident with a bowling pin.” Where is that I I who will die? For that matter, where is the who will die? For that matter, where is the I I that is reading this word right now? that is reading this word right now?

Try to define it. Try to find it. Really, really try. It's essential you do.

I lived in Africa as a child, played ba.s.s for Zero Defex from 1982 to 1984, moved to j.a.pan in 1993, got married in 1999, and so on, and so on, and so on. Though I did all of these things, there was, from the beginning, no ”self” involved in any of these actions. We tend to think of time as a line stretching from the past, to the present, and into the future, and we can see the action of cause and effect. For instance, when I was a little kid living in Nairobi, Kenya, I kept three-horned Jackson's chameleons as pets (amazing creatures they were too, just like miniature triceratopses), and these lizards left scratches on my hands that turned into tiny scars I can still see. So there is some relations.h.i.+p between the boy of ten in 1974 and the person who's typing this now. This is a fact, and based on these kinds of facts, we've created the idea of ”self.”

But time isn't really like a line.

Sure, you can find evidence that things happened, photographs, old letters, scars on your hands. But the time itself is gone. I can plan for the future. I'm writing these words right now hoping someday they'll end up in being read by someone who's interested in them. But that doesn't exist where I am now. It's a dream for me. The only thing that exists right now is the action of typing. The only real time is now. Real time is so short you can't even perceive it. Perceptions necessarily lag after the real events that trigger them. Thoughts are even further behind.

There's no past and no future. And if there is no past and no future, the concept of ”self” ceases to make any sense.

It's like when The Who were on The Russell Harty Show The Russell Harty Show in 1973. Pete Townshend pushed over one of his Marshall stack amps which fell with a thud and a crash of cymbals onto Keith Moon's drums, which in turn collapsed upon John Entwistle's Ampeg amp stacks, which also crashed to the studio floor. ”Now” is like Keith Moon's drums. ”The past” is Pete Townshend's amp, which created the motion by which Keith's drums now fall. ”The future” is John Entwistle's amplifiers. ”Self” only exists as a collective name for that series of smashes, crashes, and bangs. That's all. in 1973. Pete Townshend pushed over one of his Marshall stack amps which fell with a thud and a crash of cymbals onto Keith Moon's drums, which in turn collapsed upon John Entwistle's Ampeg amp stacks, which also crashed to the studio floor. ”Now” is like Keith Moon's drums. ”The past” is Pete Townshend's amp, which created the motion by which Keith's drums now fall. ”The future” is John Entwistle's amplifiers. ”Self” only exists as a collective name for that series of smashes, crashes, and bangs. That's all.

”He p.i.s.sed me off,” we may say. The actual fact is that some action took place in the past that wasn't to your liking at some specific time. What arose in response to that action were your long-developed habits of feeling aversion to that kind of action. A ”you” appeared because because of what happened. ”He p.i.s.sed me off” isn't what happened. What you should say is, ”being p.i.s.sed off caused me to exist.” ”You” didn't exist until there was something for ”you” to exist in relations.h.i.+p to, and in this case that something is something to be angry about. ”You” are the reaction called ”being p.i.s.sed off.” ”You” is that sustained stream of thoughts that reinforces anger, that sees itself as being the same ent.i.ty to which ”he” did something in the past. It is a memory being played over and over like an old school dance-beat on a DJ's tape loop, working hard at sustaining itself, knowing that the moment it stops repeating itself ”you” will cease to exist. ”I'm angry” is wrong. ”Right now I am anger,” is closer to the truth of the matter. of what happened. ”He p.i.s.sed me off” isn't what happened. What you should say is, ”being p.i.s.sed off caused me to exist.” ”You” didn't exist until there was something for ”you” to exist in relations.h.i.+p to, and in this case that something is something to be angry about. ”You” are the reaction called ”being p.i.s.sed off.” ”You” is that sustained stream of thoughts that reinforces anger, that sees itself as being the same ent.i.ty to which ”he” did something in the past. It is a memory being played over and over like an old school dance-beat on a DJ's tape loop, working hard at sustaining itself, knowing that the moment it stops repeating itself ”you” will cease to exist. ”I'm angry” is wrong. ”Right now I am anger,” is closer to the truth of the matter.

My sister's ex-husband wrote me an email as he was going through the divorce proceedings with my sister, and stated our usual concept of anger wonderfully: ”It's impossible not to feel angry when you are facing the gale-force winds of your emotions whipping across your body.” Most of us experience most of our emotions like that most of the time.

But try this on: Experiencing anger is like sitting in the bathtub frantically thras.h.i.+ng around and throwing handfuls of water into the air while simultaneously wondering why the h.e.l.l your head and face keep getting wet. You're in a stupor so deep you cannot even see that you're the one causing the problem. If anyone should know about this it's me, by the way. I used to like to bust things up when I got mad. A lot of my stuff still bears scars from such outbursts long ago.

It takes far more energy to sustain anger than to let it go. It only seems difficult to drop your anger because you have built up a habit of responding in a certain way to certain situations. Reacting to anger is an addiction, pure and simple, just like smoking Marlboros. Objectively it takes more resources to keep smoking than to stop. Yet giving it up seems much harder than continuing because you're addicted.

But even the addiction of reacting to emotions isn't the root addiction. Ultimately, you are addicted to the idea of ”you.” It's intoxicating, fascinating, compelling. You think that there is something called ”you” that perceives things, that thinks about things, that feels things and knows things. You think ”you” are reading this book and evaluating whether it's true or worthwhile. But that's an illusion. Perception occurs. Thinking occurs. But there's no one doing that thinking, no one doing the perceiving. And there's no one reading this book (actually I do hope some people read this book, but you see my point).

Books on Buddhism always go on and on about ”awareness” and ”mindfulness.” But these ideas are easily misunderstood. Being ”mindful,” to most people, means bringing ”me” into the situation. ”I” am mindfully reading this book. ”I” am mindfully reading this book. This is a mistake. To paraphrase a line in Dogen's This is a mistake. To paraphrase a line in Dogen's Shobogenzo, Shobogenzo, real mindfulness includes you being mindful of the book, the book being mindful of you, you being mindful of you, and the book being mindful of the book. In real mindfulness, book and reader disappear completely, mind and body disappear completely. There is nothing to be aware of and no one to do it. Awareness pervades everything, awareness itself is people and books, and the smell of burning tar, the songs of birds, and all the rest. real mindfulness includes you being mindful of the book, the book being mindful of you, you being mindful of you, and the book being mindful of the book. In real mindfulness, book and reader disappear completely, mind and body disappear completely. There is nothing to be aware of and no one to do it. Awareness pervades everything, awareness itself is people and books, and the smell of burning tar, the songs of birds, and all the rest.

The universe desires to perceive itself and to think about itself and you are born out of this desire. The universe wants to experience itself from the point of view of a tree, and so there are trees. The universe wants to feel what it's like to be a rock, and so there are rocks. The universe wants to know what it's like to be a famous Austrian body-builder c.u.m c.u.m film star and so there is Arnie. We don't know if rocks and trees have an idea of ”self,” and it doesn't matter one way or the other. But we do know human beings like you and me and Arnie believe in the existence of ”self.” And this belief is the root of all of our problems. film star and so there is Arnie. We don't know if rocks and trees have an idea of ”self,” and it doesn't matter one way or the other. But we do know human beings like you and me and Arnie believe in the existence of ”self.” And this belief is the root of all of our problems.

We all think that what we call ”me” belongs to us alone. It doesn't. It belongs to the whole of the universe. You belong to the universe. And the universe is more you than ”you” could ever hope to be.

The shrill clanging of the temple's bra.s.s wake-up bell shatters my uneasy rest a scant few hours after my encounter with my demons. I get dressed, wash my face, and stagger through the cool morning air into the zazen hall to start another day of staring at a bare brown wooden wall. Later that morning at the lecture someone asks Nis.h.i.+jima a question. I can't remember who asked it or even what the question was. But in his answer, Nis.h.i.+jima says, ”Just stop drinking alcohol.” I look up and see he is looking straight at me. I smile, he smiles back. I don't have a drinking problem. In fact I really hate alcohol, never drank much, and hadn't had any at all for years. But what he says penetrates right to the heart of my problem. The words themselves don't matter. It is direct communication.

The idea of a self is the most potent intoxicant of all.

Does Nis.h.i.+jima realize what he's said, what I've heard?

At the moment of such direct communication, it doesn't matter-both self and nonself vanish.

IN MY NEXT LIFE I WANT TO COME BACK AS A A PAIR OF LUCY LIU'S PANTIES PAIR OF LUCY LIU'S PANTIES If there's one thing I wouldn't want to be twice, zombies is both of them!

ED WOOD, JR.

QUESTIONS ABOUT REINCARNATION inevitably come up at every one of Nis.h.i.+jima's zazen retreats. In fact that was one of the first things that got me really cheezed off at Nis.h.i.+jima. Sometime during the second retreat of his I attended, several years before the attack of my demons, Nis.h.i.+jima made the sweeping statement that ”Buddhists do not believe in reincarnation.”

What?! Richard Gere says Buddhists believe in reincarnation and so does that guy from the Beastie Boys not to mention nearly everyone else. ” Richard Gere says Buddhists believe in reincarnation and so does that guy from the Beastie Boys not to mention nearly everyone else. ”Of course Buddhists believe in reincarnation, you old goat! Millions of people all over the world who call themselves Buddhists believe Buddhists believe in reincarnation, you old goat! Millions of people all over the world who call themselves Buddhists believe very strongly very strongly in reincarnation.” I didn't actually say this. I just sort of sat there with black smoke coming out of my ears. I did that a lot in those days. in reincarnation.” I didn't actually say this. I just sort of sat there with black smoke coming out of my ears. I did that a lot in those days.

We're all scared of dying and we all want some kind of a.s.surance that we're going to live forever. Having a kindly old man in black robes tell you you're going to be reborn after you die is pretty comforting. Plenty of old men in robes have made a good living that way. Nis.h.i.+jima's stock answer a.s.sures that at least half of the partic.i.p.ants at his retreats go home extremely unhappy. ”There is no life after death,” he always says. ”When you die, you never come back to life again.”

When Nis.h.i.+jima says Buddhism doesn't accept reincarnation, arguments usually follow. But I've never once seen the old man back down.

It seems that for a lot of people today, Buddhism is is the belief in reincarnation. There must be a hundred books at your local New Age book shop that give detailed explanations of how we move from life to life. Most of them cite the the belief in reincarnation. There must be a hundred books at your local New Age book shop that give detailed explanations of how we move from life to life. Most of them cite the Tibetan Book of the Dead, Tibetan Book of the Dead, a book accepted by many as a Buddhist scripture. You can find references to the idea of rebirth in pretty much any Buddhist sutra you choose to look at. Even Dogen's a book accepted by many as a Buddhist scripture. You can find references to the idea of rebirth in pretty much any Buddhist sutra you choose to look at. Even Dogen's Shobogenzo Shobogenzo is packed full of stories of people dying here and being reborn somewhere else, or even as some is packed full of stories of people dying here and being reborn somewhere else, or even as something else-a fox, for instance. Clearly, then, Nis.h.i.+jima must be wrong. Buddhists else-a fox, for instance. Clearly, then, Nis.h.i.+jima must be wrong. Buddhists do do believe in reincarnation. believe in reincarnation.

Whenever anyone-and it has frequently been me-points this out to Nis.h.i.+jima, particularly in connection with his beloved Dogen, he will say that these stories are just based on old Indian mythology. They're in there to add a little color to the piece. We were never meant to actually believe these people really, literally did die and get reborn somewhere else later. He likes to cite a chapter called ”The Wholehearted Way” in the Shobogenzo, Shobogenzo, in which Dogen says the following about reincarnation: in which Dogen says the following about reincarnation: According to that non-Buddhist view, there is one spiritual intelligence existing within our body. When this body dies, however, the spirit casts off the skin and is reborn. If we learn this view as the Buddha's Dharma we are even more foolish than the person who grasps a tile or pebble thinking it to be a golden treasure.

The standard thing for me to do right here would be to to explain to you all of the ways in which the Buddhist idea of rebirth is completely different from the older Brahmanistic notion of transmigration. According to that theory of transmigration, there is a soul, an atman atman, that lives inside our bodies like a person renting an apartment. When the landlord, G.o.d, kicks the person out for making too much noise or not paying rent on time, the person moves to another building. We do not know if the soul gets its security deposit back, but I'm guessing that G.o.d pockets it and claims it was spent on cleaning and repairs. The Buddhist idea of rebirth, it is said, is a much more subtle view. There is no soul as such, as such, the standard line goes on to say, but the conditions that created the body and mind you have now will continue after your death and manifest themselves as another form, perhaps another kind of sentient being, usually a human, in the future. the standard line goes on to say, but the conditions that created the body and mind you have now will continue after your death and manifest themselves as another form, perhaps another kind of sentient being, usually a human, in the future.

This idea ends up sounding like, ”You do reincarnate, but you just don't have a soul.” For years and years that's exactly how I took it. After reading Philip Kapleau's The Zen of Living and Dying The Zen of Living and Dying in which he gives a very thorough and detailed explanation of why the Buddhist idea of rebirth is different from the usual idea of reincarnation I figured I had the whole thing down pat. Though Kapleau's ideas are well presented and logical, I think the best answer to the question of what Zen people think about reincarnation goes like this: in which he gives a very thorough and detailed explanation of why the Buddhist idea of rebirth is different from the usual idea of reincarnation I figured I had the whole thing down pat. Though Kapleau's ideas are well presented and logical, I think the best answer to the question of what Zen people think about reincarnation goes like this: A guy walks up to a Zen master and asks, ”Is there life after death? The Zen Master says, ”How should I know?” The guys replies indignantly, ”Because you're a Zen master!” ”Yes,” says the Zen master, ”but not a dead one.”

When people ask about life after death they're a.s.suming they accurately understand life during life during life. But do they? Do you?

This the one of the most important questions any of us can ask ourselves.

When Gautama Buddha was asked about life after death, eternal existence, the origin of the universe, whether s.p.a.ce is finite or infinite, and other such imponderables, he said, ”The question does not fit the case.” Being less formal, I might phrase the same thing this way: ”That's the wrong question, doofus!”

There's plenty of discussion on both sides about the matter of rebirth and reincarnation, but quoting quotes from books, even good ones, will never solve any problem-even the philosophical ones. If I just quoted Buddha and Dogen and left it at that I'd be like one of those guys with the b.u.mper stickers that say, ”THE BIBLE SAID IT, I BELIEVE IT, AND THAT SETTLES IT.” I hate that kind of thing and I'll bet those b.u.mper stickers don't do much for you either.

Nonetheless, I'm gonna give you my take on the whole reincarnation thing. But it's what you see for yourself-what you realize realize for yourself-that really counts. What I say here is just another thing written in another book. for yourself-that really counts. What I say here is just another thing written in another book.

But here it is: Our brain likes to label things. That's its job. In our minds-and for the moment I'm using the words ”mind” and ”brain” to refer to the same thing-there is something we call ”me.” Our ”me” consists of all of our memories, dreams for the future, likes and dislikes, ideas and opinions, thoughts and perceptions, and so on. We have a whole catalogue of ”me” stuff like this. But ”me” is also our label for something ineffable, something we cannot put into words. It's a name we have for something we really don't understand but a.s.sume is there. Fundamentally we don't understand any any of the things we give names to. I might call you ”b.u.t.tnugget” but of the things we give names to. I might call you ”b.u.t.tnugget” but b.u.t.tnugget b.u.t.tnugget is just a name I have for an image in my brain that I a.s.sociate with you. It doesn't mean I have any idea what the world looks like through your eyes. is just a name I have for an image in my brain that I a.s.sociate with you. It doesn't mean I have any idea what the world looks like through your eyes.

In moments of balance and clarity, we can see that what we call ”me” does not belong to us at all. It is the possession of the universe. It is is the universe. Subject and object are the same. Nis.h.i.+jima says, ”My personality extends throughout the universe.” This something, this thing we sometimes call ”me” and we sometimes call ”everyone and everything else,” is the same as the present moment. We think we have a mind of our own. We don't. We partake in a mind that includes all of creation. The present moment is eternal. It's always there. It is unborn and it cannot die. And it does not reincarnate. the universe. Subject and object are the same. Nis.h.i.+jima says, ”My personality extends throughout the universe.” This something, this thing we sometimes call ”me” and we sometimes call ”everyone and everything else,” is the same as the present moment. We think we have a mind of our own. We don't. We partake in a mind that includes all of creation. The present moment is eternal. It's always there. It is unborn and it cannot die. And it does not reincarnate.

Nor does it hold any beliefs or opinions, for or against anything at all.

You prefer The Pogues to The Backstreet Boys, but the universe does not. It should, of course, but it includes and embraces both of them equally. Yet you and the universe are one and the same.

If we sit behind the old railway station in Kent, Ohio, and watch the Cuyahoga River flow, ignoring the noise from the frat boys hara.s.sing the art students on Water Street, we'll see lots of bubbles on the river's surface. They float along on the river for a while then burst. The bubbles are just air and water. The water returns to the river. The air returns to the atmosphere. But that one bubble we watched will never appear again.

If we buy a candle at Spencer Gifts shaped like something naughty, light it, then use the flame to light a second even naughtier-shaped candle while simultaneously blowing out the first, is the flame on the second candle the same flame as the first or entirely different? Where is the first flame? Where was the sound of Tommy Ramone hitting the first rim shot on Teenage Lobotomy Teenage Lobotomy before you heard it? After you heard it, where did it go? before you heard it? After you heard it, where did it go?

Still, to say that when we die we return to the Great River of Being continues to miss the point. The notion of returning returning implies that right now we're separate from the Great River of Being or from G.o.d or from anything else. We aren't. That bubble was always part of the river even when it appeared as a bubble. We don't return to G.o.d, because we never left G.o.d in the first place. implies that right now we're separate from the Great River of Being or from G.o.d or from anything else. We aren't. That bubble was always part of the river even when it appeared as a bubble. We don't return to G.o.d, because we never left G.o.d in the first place.

Don't get too hooked on explanations, though. Explanations are never complete.

When we die, we die. We never appear again. Dead, dead, dead. Gone, gone, gone.

But in truth, we die all the time. Every moment of every day we die. Where is the person who slid out of your mother's womb greasy and purply-red and screaming like a banshee all those years ago? Are you that person? You have no memory of that day. It's a day that was over and done with a long, long time ago. Where is the person who lost5 your virginity? Where is the person who woke up bleary-eyed and crabby yesterday morning? Where is the person who will fill your casket? your virginity? Where is the person who woke up bleary-eyed and crabby yesterday morning? Where is the person who will fill your casket?

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