Saturday Shinzo Sangha Talks by Will Holcomb, St. Louis, MO
June 2, 2013 Bendowa Part Two
What we were talking about last time was an early writing of the Zen priest Dogen who lived in the 13 th century, and who is considered the founder of Soto Zen. This early writing is called, in Japanese, the
Bendowa, which is sometimes translated “The Whole-hearted Way” or “The Endeavor of the Way.” Last time we talked about his introductory paragraphs. And then he goes into a very brief history of his life.
We’ll talk a little bit about that today, keeping in mind that, at the time he wrote this, he was thirty one, so he hadn’t really lived out his life. But it’s the history of his life to that point.
There are some things he doesn’t mention here. One is that he was born into a noble family. His parents were involved with the Emperor’s court in Japan around 1200, but his parents weren’t with him very long. His father died when he was about three and his mother when he was about eight, I believe. So his uncle took him in for a short time until he joined a monastery at age thirteen. And lived in monasteries of one sort or another for the remainder of his life.
He starts off, “After rousing bodhi mind (bodhi mind, means the intention to awaken, to find the truth)
and beginning to seek the dharma (dharma can mean teachings, or it can mean phenomena, reality, life as it is, things as they are), I traveled throughout the country and visited various teachers. And during that
time, I met my late teacher, Myosin.”
He studied with Myosin in the Rinzai tradition for several years. Rinzai Zen is best known for focusing on koans, little teaching stories, to try to train the mind. Myosin encouraged Dogen to go to China. At that time, Japan was a relatively uncultured, rural country to the deep culture that was in China at the time. Scholars would often travel to China. So Myosin encouraged Dogen to do that when he was in his
20s. He says, “Later I went to Song Dynasty, China and visited various masters in Chia Chang Province,
where I learned the ways of the Five Schools of Zen”.
We won’t go into the different schools. He travelled to China in a wooden boat and began walking all over China to get to all these monasteries. That was the only way to get from place to place. He finally ended up with a teacher. (In Japanese, it’s Nyojo. In Chinese, Wu Jing. So you’ll hear those names alternately) he was satisfied with. And as he says in this translation, “I met Zen Master Nyojo and
completely clarified the great matter of lifelong practice.” Another translation of that phrase is a little different. It says, “I completed my lifelong quest for the great matter.” So a little different. A little turn of language there, and meaning, actually.
I’d be interested to hear what people think he meant by the “great matter.” What happened with that teacher or at that time in his life? What did he observe or experience?
Dogen often talks about the great matter of birth and death. He uses language both literally and figuratively at the same time. Literally and poetically at the same time. So, in a sense, he may be talking about what we would refer to as birth and death. The birth of a baby. Death of an adult. He’s also talking about the birthing and dying of each moment. As we come into being and whatever has just come into being ceases. The arising and passing away, or ceasing of each moment of our lives. So that

this great matter could refer to each moment. What do we do with this constant arising and ceasing?
How do we live out our lives? What’s the principle?
So, whatever happened in his experience when he was with Wu Jing (or Nyogi), it had to do with something along those lines. But I wonder, what do you think? What is the great matter? What’s this all about? (Can’t hear discussion – conversation about the one in a hundred times Will answered the phone…) Steve encountered a couple of travelers, and he was going to invite them. I said, “Yeah, sure!”…….???
These stories about quests are in almost every mythology. This did actually describe when went on in
Dogen’s life, but it does have that mythical quality about it. He was on a quest, but was dissatisfied with his initial findings. At the time in Japan, as we understand it from what information is available, Buddhist practice was dominated by chanting, ceremony, ritual, and study of the scriptures.
Wu Jing, the teacher in China, was of a lineage that had focused in large measure on sitting meditation as a central practice. This was referred to as the Cao Dong School in China, which essentially Dogen brought to Japan, where it was referred to as Soto Zen. And Dogen’s writings from this point on emphasizes sitting meditation practice as a central theme, as a central practice. Because of that disposition in his beliefs, he became unpopular with the people at the old monastery, and actually had to leave and eventually start his own monastery. But sitting meditation was the central theme in
Dogen’s teaching for the rest of his life.
Sometimes it’s not always clear whether he’s talking about whether he’s talking about formal sitting meditation or whether he’s talking about everything you do. He seems to be implying that what you learn while in sitting meditation practice should inform everything you do in the rest of your life. When he refers to practice he’s really referring to everything in life.
There is one other short passage that I’ll read that I think might tie this together a bit. There’s one essay from much later on that’s called Birth and Death. And the last little section in that writing goes like this:
“There’s a simple way to become a Buddha. When you refrain from unwholesome actions, are not attached to birth and death, and are compassionate toward all sentient beings, respectful to seniors and kind to juniors, not excluding or desiring anything, with no designing thoughts or worries, you will be
called a Buddha. Do not seek anything else.”
There are many different ways to meditate. The main difference is, what do you do with your mind while you’re sitting there? Most or all of them involve getting into some kind of comfortable posture, relaxing your body. Most all of them involve letting your breath do what it does. Observing it but not changing it. These are all very standard. But when it comes to the instruction about what to do with your mind, that’s when it gets different. I mentioned at the Rinzai School, which I don’t have any direct familiarity with it. I just know about it by reading and talking to people, but the focus is on koan study, on bringing some phrase into your mind repeatedly with an idea of answering the koan, although it’s not talking about a literal solution or solving the problem. It’s more addressing or fully embracing the koan.
And then there’s a similar approach called Watoe, where you have just a phrase, not even the whole koan, but just a little phrase that you repeat again and again in a questioning mode. One example of

this is to ask the question, “What is this?” repeatedly. It can go on for years. The tradition that Dogen encountered in China is referred to as silent illumination.
Dogen referred to it in Japanese as Shikantaza or sitting, just sitting. And the instructions have that Zen minimalism about them. Many of the Zen stories have to do with the teacher and the student. And the teacher is sitting there in meditation. And the student, after a respectful period of time, questions him and says, “What are you thinking about when you’re sitting there like a mountain?” And the teacher says, “I’m thinking of not thinking.” And the student says, “How do you think of not thinking?” And the teacher says, “Non thinking.” And that’s the end of the story! It seems sort of impossible, in a way, but I think what is being referred to is definitely possible. It’s just hard to express. Ordinarily, our usual minds, we’re caught up in the content of thought. We’re thinking about what we’re going to be doing, what we have done, how we would like what we’re going to be doing to be different from what we’re going to be doing, and what we would like… We’re thinking about the content of thought and usually with a layer of like and dislike about it. In Shikantaza or sitting practice, the idea is to pay attention to the process of thought and not the content. Thoughts continuously arise and cease. It’s a mistaken view to try to achieve absence of thought. I mean it may happen that while you’re sitting there at a certain point, the mind does become still. That may happen. There’s nothing wrong with that. But it’s not the goal. When thoughts do come, as they will, then just notice them and let them go. It takes practice. In my experience anyway, I always find myself backsliding. And every day’s different. Some days are more prone to daydreaming than others. And you can catch yourself daydreaming. But you find yourself catching yourself sooner and sooner in the daydream so that you don’t let 15 minutes go by with daydreaming but maybe just a few seconds.
So what’s the point of all that? Probably any effort to describe a point sort of misses the point! But, I’ll make an effort. I think one way of looking at it, is that you’re systematically training yourself not to become attached to your thoughts. Not to get carried away with what your mind is doing. It gives you a space to work in so that you’re not so much a stimulus-response machine. Then you can see the process and have the space to make judgments about what you’re going to do with whatever’s in front of you.
That may be true, somehow, I don’t know. There are thoughts just all the time. Oftentimes, when people first start meditation practice they’re overwhelmed by, “Oh, my mind is just churning!” But it’s happening, whether you’re noticing or not. And it is hard to pay attention to much else when you’re sneezing! Laugh.