Living by Vow

by Shohaku Okumura

  One Hand and Five Fingers

  For example, if I hold up my hand you might see it as a hand. And yet you can also see it as five fingers. One hand has five fingers, and there is no hand beyond these five fingers. Five fingers and one hand are the same thing: two aspects of one reality. Within this collection of five fingers, each finger is different and even has a different name. In Japanese the thumb is called oyayubi, or “parent.” The index finger is called hitosashiyubi, the finger to point at something. The middle finger is called nakayubi, which literally means the finger in the middle. The ring finger is called kusuriyubi because sometimes a doctor would use this finger to check medicine. The fifth finger is called koyubi, “child.” Each finger differs in name, function, and shape. Each is independent, and yet when we call them a hand, the individuality of each finger disappears. Ji and ri are two ways of viewing things—as independent beings and as a whole. In the same way, the hand is a part of our body, which has many more parts. Each part—hand, head, foot, and billions of cells—is different, and yet this body works as one thing, a body.

  Form and Emptiness

  The phrase “the spiritual source” refers to unity or ri; “branching streams” refers to plurality or ji. The spiritual source is one and the branching streams are many. In “Sandōkai” ji is first translated as “things.” Later the same word is translated as “phenomena.” In the phrase “merging with principle,” principle is a translation of ri. So “things” is ji and “principle” is ri.

  In the Heart Sutra the terms “form” and “emptiness” correspond to ji and ri. “Form” refers to an individual being with a beginning and end; it is born, stays for a while, and disappears. Transient beings or entities without permanent self are said to have form. The Heart Sutra tells us that form is emptiness. This means that nothing exists as a truly independent being with a fixed self-nature. We appear to be independent but in reality are supported by all beings. I cannot survive as a human body or mind without the support of air, water, food, and so forth. The Heart Sutra also says that emptiness is form. Emptiness does not exist outside of form. We are a merging of difference and unity. From one perspective we are independent, but at the same time we are completely interdependent. As Buddhists we try to understand this contradiction by seeing it as two perspectives on a single reality. This is the basic idea of difference and unity, or ji and ri.

  Light and Darkness

  In the sentence “The spiritual source shines clearly in the light,” light symbolizes ji or difference. The original word for “shines clearly” is kōketzu. Kō means “white,” and ketzu means “clear and undefiled.” This evokes an image of a full moon. But the moon shines in the darkness, not in the light. This sentence confuses us by saying the moon or the spiritual source shines in the light.

  In the phrase “branching streams flow in the darkness,” darkness represents ri. I didn’t understand these two sentences for a long time because the spiritual source is ri, unity, and light is ji, or difference. This sentence means that the spiritual source (or unity) shines clearly in the light (or difference). Similarly the “branching streams,” a symbol of ji or difference, “flow in the darkness,” a symbol of ri or unity. The statement that unity shines in difference and difference flows in the unity is a paradox. It points out the dynamic interpenetration of discrimination and nondiscrimination.

  We Are Separate but Together

  We should try to understand this as a whole. Unity and difference are not two different things; they merge. From the perspective of ji or difference, we are independent people, separate individuals. I am not you; you are not me. Yet we cannot live completely alone. We live with other people and things; they are part of the reality of our life. Even so, I can’t feel your pain, and you can’t feel mine. My wife has pain in her teeth, but I have never had pain in my teeth. I have never even been to the dentist. I can’t feel her pains, but I have different pains of my own. I have pain in my lower back that she cannot feel. The reality is that we are completely separate individuals. We can’t even share pain. We are born alone, and we die alone. No one can be born for me, no one can live for me, and no one can die for me. From birth we are alone: we live alone, completely independent, and when we die we are really alone.

  And yet we can never be completely alone. We cannot be born without a mother and father. We cannot grow up without support from our parents, family, and society. There are two aspects of our lives: independent and interdependent. This is not a matter of separate parts of our life. Our whole life is individual, and at the same time our whole life is 100 percent interdependent. There is no separation of the two. This is an important point. We should see both aspects of our life at the same time. This is how we wake up to the reality of our life. This seems contradictory, and it causes problems when we think about it. These two aspects become separate things, two principles: individualism and socialism. If we don’t understand, if we are unable to awake to reality, we become unhealthy. If we cling to the principle of individuality, we live on the basis of “I am I, I am not you, and you are not me.” We live in isolation from the rest of the world. On the other hand, if we cling to the aspect of unity or wholeness, individuality is ignored. Then the individual lives only to serve society, and that’s not healthy either.

  In American society, individualism is a problem. In Japan, however, until recently the family was most important, and each person lived for the sake of the family. Either extreme is unhealthy.

  Just Sitting Is Itself Merging of Difference and Unity

  Often the practice or study of Zen or Buddhism involves an attempt to negate or go beyond individuality. We try to become one with universality, or buddha-nature. I disagree with this approach. For example, the Chinese master Sheng-yen wrote in a commentary on “Merging of Difference and Unity,” “The first line of this couplet refers to light or brightness. The second line refers to darkness. Lightness represents enlightenment, and darkness represents vexation, or the condition of sentient beings before enlightenment.”106 In his interpretation, darkness is delusion, and we are deluded human beings because we don’t see the unity. He says that enlightenment is to perceive the unity. However, Shitou is saying that delusion is grasping ji, that is, grasping independent things. I believe this is true. Shitou goes on to say, “Merging with principle is still not enlightenment.” To merge with principle means to transcend individuality and become one with unity. It means to see the emptiness of all things. But Shitou says, “Merging with principle is still not enlightenment.” Neither individuality nor unity is enlightenment.

  Zen is often understood as a series of steps. We start out egocentric, completely deluded, clinging to ourselves. Through study and practice we try to become free from egocentricity. To be free from ego-clinging, we have to see the emptiness of all beings. This is called kensho or satori. But this is not final enlightenment. We have to return to individuality. This is a common way of explaining the steps of practice, but it is not consistent with my understanding of dharma or practice based on Dōgen Zenji’s teachings.

  Dōgen taught that there are no steps in practice. He said that practice and enlightenment are actually one. If there were steps, there would be deluded people and enlightened people, and there would be a step from the deluded to the enlightened stage of mind. There would be a separation between delusion and enlightenment, and between deluded and enlightened people. This separation is itself delusion, because in the absolute realm there is no such step, no discrimination between delusion and enlightenment. Discrimination between enlightenment and delusion only exists in ji; there is no distinction in ri. In unity or emptiness, delusion and enlightenment are not different, nor are samsara and nirvana, or deluded human beings and buddhas. That’s the teaching of emptiness. Our practice does not proceed step by step. With this body and mind we sit in both individuality and universality. We are often pulled by our egocentricity. When we sit in this posture and let go of thought in our zazen, we have no technique. We have
no object of meditation or contemplation. We don’t concentrate our mind on anything particular. We don’t even pay special attention to our breathing. We don’t count breaths. We don’t visualize anything. We just sit in this upright posture, breathe through the nose, quietly, deeply, and smoothly, and let go of thought. To let go of thought means to allow whatever comes in to go out. We let any idea, desire, or imagination come up and then go free. Nothing stays forever. We don’t try to control our mind. We simply keep our body straight, breathe quietly, and let go of thought. This is our zazen based on Dōgen Zenji’s teachings.

  Within this zazen individuality is not lost. This is my practice; no one else can sit for me. My sitting is mine alone. And yet within this sitting practice we let go of our egocentricity. To let go of thought means to let go of our egocentricity. This body and mind is really part of buddha-nature, not something separate. Within this zazen, both ji and ri are manifested; neither is negated, neither affirmed. Both sides arise naturally in this simple practice. That’s the meaning of Dōgen Zenji’s expression “practice and enlightenment are one.” Practice is my own individual practice, and enlightenment is universal. There is no separation between my enlightenment and your enlightenment, but practice is individual. I cannot practice for you. Practice is my personal activity, which manifests the universal reality of life. This zazen is itself the merging of difference and unity, not a step-by-step meditation practice. When we sit, we just sit. We express completely difference and unity, individuality and universality. To let go of thought is, I think, the most important point of our practice of zazen.

  Practice in Day-to-Day Activities

  We cannot let go of thought in our day-to-day activities. For example, when we prepare a meal we have to read the recipe. We have to use the correct ingredients in the proper way. Since we cannot let go of thought, we have to practice with our thoughts, with what we are doing now. We have to be clear about what we are cooking. We need to discriminate. Salt and sugar look very similar but are completely different, so we must discriminate between them. We need discrimination, and yet, as a practice when we are cooking, we let go of thought. In this case to let go of thought means to let go of all thought that is not needed for cooking. This means we are completely mindful of what we are doing right now, right here, at this moment. We use our whole mind to concentrate on our day-to-day activities.

  Cooking also involves serving others. To prepare a meal for others is to make an offering. Our life becomes part of another person’s life. This is the concrete meaning of interdependent existence. Through our activities we can become one with other beings. Oneness of subject and object is not a matter of philosophy, contemplation, or belief but a result of concrete action. Through an activity like cooking for others, our energy becomes the meal, and the meal becomes other people’s energy. Our day-to-day activity, not only at the zendo but also at home and work, should be based on our zazen, on a merging of difference and unity. Our practice is not to kill our individuality. Of course, our practice is not to become more egoistic, but neither is it to simply become one with unity, with all beings. Our practice is to manifest the merging of difference and unity completely in every activity, including zazen. We try to live and act on this basis. We don’t rely on others and yet we practice together with others. This is difficult but it is the healthiest way of life. We can be independent and not rely on others but still help them. Yet we often go astray. To be natural is the most difficult thing for us human beings.

  SUBJECT-OBJECT: INTERACT AND NOT INTERACT

  Each sense and every field

  Interact and do not interact;

  When interacting, they also merge—

  Otherwise, they remain in their own states.

  Each line in the original Chinese poem consists of five Chinese characters. In these four lines Shitou uses only fifteen different Chinese characters, fifteen words to express the whole of reality. This is incredible to me. I could write a whole book about these four lines.

  Six Sense Organs and the Six Objects

  The first phrase, “each sense,” is a translation of the Chinese expression monmon. Mon means “gate,” “entrance,” or “exit.” This expression refers to each of the six sense organs. These are called gates because stimulation from outside comes to us through them, and we express our thoughts and emotions through them to the outside. The next phrase, “every field,” is a translation of issai no kyō. Issai means “all,” and kyō in a Buddhist context means “objects or things outside of ourselves.” This refers to the six objects of the sense organs. The object of the sixth sense organ, the mind, is something that we cannot touch, see, hear, smell, or taste but can imagine. Abstract concepts like love, numbers, and things that do not exist such as “the hair of a turtle” or “the horn of a rabbit” can be objects of mind. We cannot perceive these things, and yet we can think about them.

  The sense organs and their objects are the totality of our life. Our life consists of subject (self, body, and mind) and objects (all beings as the objects of our sense organs). The objects of our sense organs are outside of our body and do not belong to us. Common sense tells us that there is a separation between the six sense organs and their objects. We, with our bodies and minds, relate to the objects outside us. We consider some things valuable or useful, others we don’t. So we judge and evaluate, discriminate and categorize. When we encounter an object, we put it into a category and think we understand it. That’s our usual way of seeing.

  The six sense organs and their six objects appear in the Heart Sutra: “No eyes, no ears, no nose, no tongue, no body, no mind; / No color, no sound, no smell, no taste, no touch, no object of mind.” The sutra says that such categories are not real. In fact, it says there is no independent thing called “I” to establish these categories. There are no independent entities called eyes, ears, nose, tongue, body, or mind. Nor are there independent entities called color, sound, smell, taste, touch, or objects of mind. In reality there are no independent entities at all, either inside or outside us. Instead, eyes, ears, nose, tongue, body, and mind work together as one body and mind, as one self. Color, sound, smell, touch, taste, and objects of mind also work together. This is the meaning of emptiness or dependent origination. Everything supports everything else; nothing has independent self-nature. As a result everything permeates everything else.

  We Exist Supported by All Things

  Without food, water, and air, we cannot live. We cannot maintain our bodies and minds. Food is made of other beings; when we digest, we incorporate them into ourselves, into our bodies. Our life is supported by all beings. This is the meaning of dependent origination. We are also supported by things from the past. I can use this glass to drink water today because someone made it and someone put water in it and served it to me. Everything in this present moment, in the past, and also in the future, supports everything else. It all works together as one function. This is the meaning of śūnyatā, emptiness, or dependent origination.

  Sense Organs Work Together

  In the sentence “Each sense and every field interact and do not interact,” “field” refers to the object of each sense working together with the sense organ. There is no separation from the universal view. And yet we cannot say that the eye and ear are the same. Eye is eye, ear is ear, and nose is nose. They have different functions and shapes. They cannot replace each other. If we lose our eyes, we can’t see. If we lose our nose, we can’t smell. But in a universal sense they are not independent; none of them have self-nature. They are really interdependent. And yet in our common sense way of seeing the world, eye is eye, nose is nose, tongue is tongue. Individuality and universality always coexist, and neither side should be negated or ignored. We should always try to see reality, all beings, and our lives from both perspectives.

  Interact and Not Interact

  In the phrase “interact and do not interact,” the Japanese for “interact” is e-go. E means “turn around,” and go means “each other” or “mu
tually.” So e-go means mutually to turn, to influence, to work together, or to penetrate each other. Interaction is the aspect of unity—eye, ear, nose, tongue, body, and mind working together with no separation. The second half of the phrase, fu e-go, means “do not interact”; eye is eye, ear is ear, nose is nose, tongue is tongue. Everything is independent in its own function. This refers to individuality, independence, and difference, as in the title “Merging of Difference and Unity.”