Living by Vow

by Shohaku Okumura

  We should remember Guishan Lingyou’s example. Our actual practice is most important. We need time to work toward our goals, but to accomplish any project the appropriate cause and conditions are essential. The cause may be compared to the seed of a plant, and the conditions to temperature, humidity, and sunshine. If we put a seed on a desk, it won’t sprout. It needs the right conditions. But even when conditions are perfect, if the seed isn’t healthy it won’t sprout. So we must be careful to keep our practice healthy and deeply rooted. We should keep the root of our practice wholesome.

  The changing of the seasons is similar. When I came to Minneapolis in August, all the trees had green leaves. It was very beautiful. After a few weeks, the trees turned many different colors, and this too was beautiful. If we tried to paint each leaf by hand, it would take forever. But when autumn comes, all the leaves change color suddenly, almost at once, because there is a cause inside of the tree. That’s how things happen. If we don’t have the right conditions, not even a single leaf will change color. This is important to consider in the context of vow. Vow is kind of a long-range project or plan. We don’t need to be in a hurry. Just practice and recharge our energy in the sangha. Practice, sit, keep the seed alive, and when conditions ripen, it will grow.

  Katagiri Roshi’s vow was huge. This is the same as practice. Buddha Dharma is something universal, infinite, and absolute. As individual human beings, we are small and limited. But when we sit in this posture and let go of individuality, we are one with everything. We are infinite, absolute, part of the universe. When we give up our limited attitudes, there is no separation between this small individual self and the boundless universe. The smallness of individuals and universality of reality is a main point in Dōgen Zenji’s teaching. It can also be described as the merging of difference and unity. Difference is individuality; each person is different. Unity means that everything is one; there is no separation. This is our reality. We are independent, small, and limited. Yet when we sit in this posture and let go of thought and of our limited desires, we are moved by a vow that comes from the very core of our being, and there is no separation between us and the whole universe.

  Dōgen Zenji often referred to this merging of individuality and universality. For example, in Eihei Kōroku he quotes Hongzhi Zhengjue (Wanshi Shōkaku), a famous Chinese Zen master and the Dharma brother of Changlu Qingliao (Chōro Seiryō). Hongzhi was asked, “What is the self before discrimination?” He answered, “A toad in a well swallows the moon.”30 A tiny being in a small well swallowed the moon, a symbol of universality, the reality of our life.

  In Eihei Kōroku Dōgen Zenji changed the expression to “A toad in the bottom of the ocean eats gruel.” This is a strange image, since there are no toads in the ocean. Here’s how we can understand it. The toad in the bottom of the ocean symbolizes a practitioner in a monastery; the gruel is what practitioners eat almost every day for breakfast, and the ocean represents the sangha. So we are all toads in the ocean. A well refers to narrow egocentricity, or individuality. When we practice in a sangha, we are still toads, although we no longer live in a well but in the ocean.

  Dōgen continues, “A jewel rabbit in the sky washes the bowl.”31 As a child in Japan, I was taught that there was a rabbit in the moon, because the pattern of the moon’s craters resembles a rabbit, at least for the Japanese. So “jewel rabbit” refers to the moon. What does Dōgen mean when he says that a toad in the ocean eats gruel and a jewel rabbit washes the bowl? I think he means that we are very limited beings, but when we practice with the sangha and eat gruel for breakfast, the rabbit, meaning the moon, comes to this person and washes the bowl. So this practitioner is not a toad anymore, but the jewel rabbit in the moon. There is a transformation here. Hongzhi’s expression is poetic, not about day-to-day activity. But Dōgen Zenji expresses very well the reality of our practice. We are small living beings like toads, and yet, when we practice with the sangha, we are not just individuals but part of the ocean of beings, of all existence. Eating gruel for breakfast is a very concrete activity. Even a small act by a small person manifests the universal reality, which is the reality of our life. Any effort, however small, is enough. We do what we can in this moment, and then in the next moment, and then tomorrow; one moment at a time. It is the same as our practice of zazen, and our practice in our daily activities.

  MEANINGS OF LIVING BY VOW

  Vow is one of the most important aspects of practice as a bodhisattva. It can be understood from three different perspectives. First, a vow is a direction for an individual. We live the reality of life whether we are deluded or enlightened. This reality is called as-it-is-ness, or tathātā. It is also true that we frequently deviate from this reality of life because we are deceived by our egocentricity. The reality of our life is not so simple for us human beings. Enlightened or deluded, we are living out our as-it-is-ness, and yet we are always blind to it. This is our life as human beings. First we have to realize that we are deluded. Then we have to go back to the reality of life through the practice of this reality. As-it-is-ness for human beings is dynamic. We live in the reality of life, yet always lose sight of it, so we must return to it. These three points are the movement, the actual reality of our lives. To go back to the reality of life in the midst of this reality is our practice. This practice is based on vow. This vow is not a special promise we make to the Buddha but rather a manifestation of the foundation of our being. This is the most fundamental meaning of taking a vow. We go back to the reality of life within that reality.

  The second aspect of living by vow is to live within a sangha and practice with other people, that is, to walk together with all living beings. We do this with the three minds—joyful mind, parental mind, and magnanimous mind. Our vow is manifest in our day-to-day lives as these three minds. Finally, we practice as a sangha, not simply as an individual but as one whole body. The sangha itself needs to have a direction to grow. That is the meaning of living by vow as a sangha. By working on the vow as a sangha little by little, one thing at a time, like raindrops, we meet the challenges and create a new stage in the history of Buddhism in the West.

  All the karma ever created by me since of old

  Through greed, anger, and self-delusion

  Which has no beginning, born of my body, speech, and thought

  I now make full repentance of it32

  TRADITIONALLY in Chinese and Japanese Buddhism, there are two kinds of repentance. One is formal and concrete repentance, called ji-sange, in which we repent concrete offenses by means of rituals conducted with the help of a particular buddha, teacher, or sangha member. Another kind of repentance is called risange. Ji and ri are important concepts in Chinese Buddhism. Ji refers to the relative, conventional, phenomenal, and formal level, whereas ri refers to the absolute, supreme, total, and formless level. A verse different from the one quoted above is used for ri-sange.

  Sitting in zazen and letting go of thoughts is formless repentance. This kind of repentance has been emphasized in the Sōtō tradition since the Edo period (seventeenth–ninteenth centuries). But in Dōgen Zenji’s writings, as far as I know, only the verse of ji-sange is recorded. I think both forms are important. Formal repentance is for our misdeeds that break the bodhisattva precepts we receive when we become the Buddha’s students. Formless repentance is to awaken to the total interpenetrating reality beyond separation of subject and object, self and others. This is zazen.

  The original Buddhist repentance was ji-sange, or formal repentance. In the original Buddhist sangha in India, when someone made a mistake the Buddha admonished the person not to repeat the deed. These admonitions were memorized and compiled in a category of Buddhist scripture called Vinaya by one of the ten great disciples, Upāli, at the first council after the Buddha’s death. Since then, people receiving ordination as monks and nuns took these precepts as guidelines and vowed to uphold them. Sangha members held meetings for repentance called uposatha (Jap., fusatsu) twice a month on new and full moon days
. A leader of the sangha recited the precepts text, called the Prātimokṣa, and people who had transgressed against the precepts made confession and repentance. They incurred penalties depending upon the severity of their violations. Lay Buddhists received five precepts and could participate in uposatha gatherings.

  So the original meaning of repentance is to reflect on one’s misdeeds and confess them to the sangha. This is a concrete, formal repentance. In order to make repentance, we first have to receive the precepts. The precepts are guidelines for our day-to-day lives. When we become aware of our deviation from these guidelines, we repent and go back to the precepts. This is the meaning of receiving the precepts as standards for our lives and making repentance.

  Since Mahāyāna Buddhism was initially a lay movement, practitioners didn’t have their own Vinaya. They received only the bodhisattva precepts. Later Mahāyāna monks lived in monasteries and practiced based on the Vinaya.33 In China, Mahāyāna Buddhist monks received both the Vinaya and Mahāyāna precepts: the ten major precepts and the forty-eight minor precepts. However, in almost all schools of Japanese Buddhism except the Ritsu (Vinaya) school, both monks and laypeople receive only the bodhisattva precepts. This tradition originated with the founder of the Japanese Tendai school, Saichō (767–822). In the Sōtō Zen tradition founded by Dōgen, both priests and laypeople receive only sixteen bodhisattva precepts: the three refuges, the threefold pure precepts, and the ten major precepts.

  In our jukai (precepts-receiving) ceremony, we recite this verse of repentance before accepting the precepts. Repentance is like washing a cloth before dying it a certain color. By repenting the way we have been living, we cleanse our body and mind. This is a decisive turning point in our lives. We change our direction from the pursuit of wealth, fame, and success to the bodhisattva Way of living at one with all beings.

  Many recite this verse not just once in a lifetime at the jukai ceremony but also at bimonthly repentance ceremonies called ryaku-fusatsu. Katagiri Roshi’s practice at MZMC was to recite it at the beginning of the morning service together with the verses of the three refuges and the four bodhisattva vows. Even though we have received the precepts, we often forget them and lose our direction as bodhisattvas. So we remember that the precepts are the guidelines of our lives and renew our aspiration and commitment. This is the meaning of the recitation of repentance in our daily practice.

  There is another, deeper meaning of repentance. We live in the reality of our life whether or not we observe the precepts. No one can escape from this reality. Even when we are deluded, we live in reality as deluded human beings. Ultimately there is no separation between reality and delusion. In other words, reality includes delusions. Even though we live in the reality that is beyond discrimination, we have to discriminate in our day-to-day lives. We have to decide what is good or bad. Without discrimination we can do nothing. Even as we practice the Buddha’s teachings, we have to make choices. This is the unavoidable reality of our concrete lives.

  Zazen is the only exception. When we sit in this posture and open the hand of thought, we are truly free from discrimination. Whenever thoughts come up, we just let them go. In our daily activities, however, we have to make choices based on discrimination even though we practice the reality that is beyond discrimination. For instance, right now I am thinking, “How can I express the Buddha’s teachings in the most understandable way in English?” This is my intention. Even when we try to manifest the reality beyond discrimination, we have to discriminate and make choices about the best way to do so. Repentance means that although I think this is the best thing to do in this situation, I recognize that it might be a mistake. It might even be harmful to others and to me—I don’t know.

  When I was at Pioneer Valley Zendo in Massachusetts, I had to cut many trees to clear the land and plant a garden. I killed many small animals, insects, and worms. Once, for example, after I dug a well the hole filled with rainwater and a skunk drowned. My intention was to work for the Buddha Dharma and to create a place for practice. To do so, I harmed other creatures. Even when we try to work for the benefit of all beings, we may harm others. We cannot predict the consequences of our actions. All of us have to eat to live. Even if we don’t eat meat, we have to eat vegetables. This means we have to kill vegetables. To live as a human being is to be supported by others’ lives and deaths. Even if we are not conscious of it, we may create evil karma that can injure ourselves and others. As bodhisattvas we cannot live without repentance.

  “All the karma ever created by me since of old”: This translation does not specify bad karma, but the original does. Shoakugō means “bad karma.” Some other translations use words such as “unwholesome,” “twisted,” or “harmful” to avoid the duality between good and bad. We practice repentance on the basis of total interpenetrating reality. We live only with the support of all beings but recognize that we may harm some. Even when we live as well as we possibly can, we still need to repent because from our limited viewpoint we can’t know which acts might result in harm.

  “Through greed, anger, and self-delusion”: In Buddhism these are the three poisons. Self-delusion or ignorance is the cause of the other two. In this case it refers to ignorance of the reality of impermanence and ego.34 The Heart Sutra tells us that all five skandhas are empty. The five skandhas make up our body and mind. This means that we are empty, and yet we don’t often see the emptiness of our body and mind. It feels as if we have a body and mind. We assume there is something called an “ego” that owns and operates our body in the same way a person owns and drives a car. In reality there is no driver but only this body and mind. There is no driver, but somehow the car runs. This is really an “auto-mobile.”

  When we are unaware of impermanence and egolessness, the ego appears to be the center of the world. Anger and greed arise because the ego tries to protect itself. Greed prompts us to accumulate more and more to satisfy egocentric desires. Anger is caused by the ego’s need to stay secure and powerful. These three poisons are the basic causes of our bad karma.

  Body, speech, and thought create our good and bad karma. “No beginning” means we cannot see the origin of our karma. Our body and mind are influenced even by things that have happened before we were born. Everything that has happened in the whole universe since the Big Bang influences our ways of thinking and behaving. It is all really without beginning.

  “I now make full repentance of it”: The original word was sange, which as we’ve seen means “repentance.” Repentance includes confession but is not necessarily limited to confession. As the Buddha’s students, we receive the precepts and vow to live by them. This is why we have to repent deeds against our vow. In the first line the Japanese word issai (“all”) means all the misdeeds or mistakes we have made, even if we are not conscious of them. Vow and repentance are inseparable. When we closely look at our past deeds, we cannot help but repent. When we awaken to the total interpenetrating reality of our being and look to the future, we cannot refrain from making the vow to live with all beings and to practice according to the Buddha’s teachings. Vow and repentance are two sides of the single practice of zazen.

  Another important verse of repentance is from the Samantabhadra Sutra. It addresses formless repentance (ri-sange) and repentance of true reality (jissō-sange).

  The ocean of all karmic hindrances

  arises solely from delusive thoughts.

  If you wish to make repentance,

  sit in upright posture and be mindful of the true reality.

  All misdemeanors, like frost and dew,

  are melted away in the sun of wisdom.35

  In this repentance we do not actually say something like, “I’m sorry because of this or that specific mistake.” Rather, our zazen is itself repentance.

  “The ocean of all karmic hindrances / arises solely from delusive thoughts”: Here “karma” means all of our activities—not just our mistakes or misconduct. Even when we do good things we may create karmic hindrance. A
lmost all of our actions, good or bad, are based on self-centeredness. Therefore they are not in accord with the reality of oneness, impermanence, and interdependent origination. Any actions (karma) caused by our ignorance of the reality of life are a hindrance because they prevent us from awakening to reality and liberating ourselves from self-clinging. Any activity we do solely for ourselves, for our family, community, or nation—including Buddhist practices—can be a hindrance to actualizing total interpenetrating reality.

  Even our charitable acts often have egocentric motivations. We seek satisfaction by trying to be better or more important. To gain respect from others, we try to be seen as compassionate. When there is the slightest deviation between our actions and our true mind, we create karmic hindrances. When we do something evil or make a mistake, we find it easy to repent. We have no difficulty in seeing it’s our own fault, and if we don’t recognize our misdeeds, others will help us by showing their anger. But when we are doing good things, it is really difficult to notice our karmic hindrances because people praise us and we feel good. Our good deeds that generate karmic hindrance make us arrogant and careless. We become blind to the fact that we are still limited, ordinary, self-centered human beings.