Entering the White Forest Sangha Zendo one sees a calligraphy done by Kazuaki Tanahashi Sensei, 行, which he translates as “practice”. It has other meanings: do, act, walk, proceed, even “whatever is done by mouth, body, or mind”. Provisionally speaking, we take it as he translates it, as practice.
Recently the occasion arose to spend a week at Crestone Mountain Zen Center. It was a “practice week”. A week intentionally designed for practice. The schedule was similar to that of an ango, the 90-day Zen monastic practice period. The ango schedule is meant to be rigorous but sustainable, a way to practice in a monastery for weeks at a time. This week’s schedule was:
- 4:30 wake up bell
- 5:00 zazen
- 5:50 kinhin
- 6:00 zazen
- 6:40 liturgical service
- 7:30 oryoki meal
- 9:00 teaching by the Abbot or work
- 12:30 informal lunch
- 2:00 work
- 4:15 exercise period
- 5:40 liturgical service
- 5:45 oryoki meal
- 6:30 study
- 7:45 zazen
- 8:15 interval
- 8:20 zazen
- 8:50 end of scheduled day
Half-day on Sunday, Monday day off
Rigorous? Yes. But compared to sesshin, the 7-day silent retreat of Zen, it is doable, livable, over the long haul. There is personal time in the schedule, and time for meeting and speaking.
During one such informal meeting and speaking a student asked, “Lay and monastic practice. Is there a difference? Does it matter?” Great questions, questions facing Buddhism since Shakyamuni’s time. Two of “THE” questions for 21st century Zen in the West. The answer to the first, is there a difference, is an unequivocal yes. Lay and monastic practice are different. The answer to the second, does it matter, well…
The crucible of monastic life is a hard but often joyful practice. Nowhere to hide, whatever ‘it’ is, ‘it’ is all always out in the open. Everyone’s practice in plain sight, ‘good and bad’ completely exposed. However, there is no guarantee in monastic practice. There are ways not to practice: retreating into meditation’s demon ice cave, playing the game of blame, countless other ways. Practice divided. In lay life one has to look for,even work for, ways to practice. The circum-stance of home, workplace, almost every-where seems to beckon (or demand) not to practice. Surrounded by persons and places that are not only on a different page, they are often in a different book. Practice divided.
Lay or monastic aside, some find ways to practice, some find ways not to practice.
Working with psychedelics in the 60s Timothy Leary and Richard Alpert (Ram Dass) posited that “set and setting” are co-determinants of a “trip”. Preparation and location co-create participation. It takes both. The same in Zen: practice does/does not make the person, the person does/does not make the practice. It’s a handshake…a kiss. One of Dogen Zenji’s recurrent themes is continuous, or undivided, practice. In his schema all “sets” are the ground of practice, all “settings” are this ground’s location. Undivided practice.
Lay or monastic, even as flowers fall and weeds spring up, it is all…undivided practice.