Poetry As Dharma Practice - Bansho Green, Zen Teacher
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Bansho:Good morning, everyone. Nice to see you. I guess in the case, is it afternoon? It's not quite afternoon. For those of you new to the monastery, welcome.
Bansho:Those of you who've been here before, welcome back. Those of you online, thank you for joining us. Here to practice what is rare to practice as one of our great ancestors said, practicing what is rare to practice. That is what we practice here is not just meditation, getting calm and present, but is looking at the nature of mind, nature of our heart. In our meditation, we practice presence, radical presence, Practice what is rare to practice.
Bansho:It doesn't seem so rare to practice when there's how many apps and to meditate, but the rare to practice is the radical presence. And from this place of presence, we look directly at raw unmediated experience of body, heart and mind. And this is done in community with other people, warm hand to warm hand, flesh, blood, and bone, transmission of the teachings. It's not what's written in words and yet words inspire and point to all of this. Last Sunday during the talk, Chosen, Roshi and Jomon talked about Jizo Bodhisattva, and we did a sashin, it was last weekend, right?
Bansho:We did a week long retreat where that incorporated meditation, this practicing of being present, and also creative process. And we made little images, we allowed our creativity. So for those of you who weren't here, we made these little crass, Gizo images, you can pass that along if you like, especially for those of you who haven't seen these. So with the practice of doing creative expression as part of a retreat, I was recalling that initially I was inspired into the spiritual traditions of East Asia, especially China and Japan through poetry and verse. So I was re inspired to go back to the creative expression that brought me to practice.
Bansho:One of the things that we do in community here at Great Vow is learn together. We do it in the whole Sangha in many ways, with retreats and classes. And most weeks here at the monastery, we have a class here for those in residence. So last night in our class, we looked at some poems of spiritual practice. And I wanted to share some of those and also how to practice with poetry and poems.
Bansho:Now, you may say, Oh, I'm not a poetry person. I don't understand it. I'm not into it. Well, then this can be your patience practice for this talk. But actually, if you have a favorite song or favorite songs, many songs, I mean, isn't that just a poem put to music, returns a phrase from maybe that means something to you, that remind you of something that can't quite be put into words, but is put into words by someone who has experienced something similar, whether that be love or longing or heartbreak or ecstatic expressions.
Bansho:Of course the music helps, but for those when you have a favorite song that you sing along to, These are poems. Now there is a misunderstanding that Buddhism requires giving up pretty things. I need to give up my attachment to things in order not to suffer. And this is a misunderstanding, a clinging is what leads to suffering, it's our clinging to, I want things to stay the way they are, or I'm worried that things will change and that there's something I don't like. The kind of trying to hold onto experience, trying to hold onto something or push away something is where the suffering happens.
Bansho:So the attachment that we're talking about is more of a clinging kind of attachment. Not an appreciation of beauty is part of the tradition, especially in Zen, there's an appreciation of beauty and many of the classical arts of Japan, flower arranging and paintings, tea ceremonies, Zen gardens are all about beauty. And even broken is beautiful. We have in our Gizo Garden some images of Gizo using things that are broken and making them into beautiful things. The avenue of nothing is broken.
Bansho:So beauty, and that includes the beauty of words that point to something meaningful, is part of our tradition too. Our chanting service is filled with poems, hymns, poems, songs of waking up. So the chanting service that you did, that's just all poetry. Using images to evoke the ineffable, the mysterious, the vivid experience of the vast heart. So these aren't just found in our chant book, so I'd like to share with you some of the poems and then talk about some of the dharma that we can find, or at least that I can find in them.
Bansho:And I hope that as you listen, you allow yourself to see what you recognize. So we asked a few questions and maybe you can kind of keep one of these or some of these in mind as you hear them. So for spiritual poetry, sort of four dimensions that you might listen for or recognize. One is reality or truth. What is the saying about the way things are?
Bansho:Practice. Is there spiritual practice in this expression or how would you practice this poem? How would you practice this poem? In other words, how would you make it real here? Heart, is there something, a word or words that touches you?
Bansho:That's not a small thing, that points to something important and experience. Do you recognize this, the kinship with the other human who has expressed this? So maybe you've experienced something of what this is pointing to. So one poem, I'd like to read this poem, it's called The Perfect Cup by Joyce Rupp, who is a Catholic nun, sister in Iowa. So of course the poems that we read in the chant book are a thousand years old, but there's spiritual poetry being written right now that maybe you'll enjoy this.
Bansho:The Perfect Cup. It is time for me to see the flaws of myself and stop being alarmed. It is time for me to halt my drive for perfection and to accept my blemishes. It is time for me to receive slowly evolving growth, the kind that comes in God's own good time and pays no heed to my panicky pushing. It is time for me to embrace my humanness, to love my incompleteness.
Bansho:It is time for me to cherish the unwanted, to welcome the unknown, to treasure the unfulfilled. If I wait to be perfect before I love myself, I will always be unsatisfied and ungrateful. If I wait until all the flaws, chips and cracks disappear, I will be the cup that stands on the shelf and is never used. So perhaps notice the experience in your body, heart, mind, what do you notice? Any connection or resistance?
Bansho:Even resistance is learning. I love this poem relating to it as the experience of the inner critic, the perfectionist and the pusher. These three dynamics of the heart mind that says, This is how it has to be, this is how, and in the words of this poet, How I have to be. And the pushing that happens to make me align with this perfected ideal and the suffering that comes from that. So it's a poem that I hear as great self acceptance, which then allows us to step forward in love.
Bansho:And Joyce Rupp's poem is an example of how we can take a teaching and then bring it and make it our own. Her poem is very much a reference to the Gospels that she, a Catholic nun, would be quite intimate with, about not stepping forward, stand on the shelf and never used. I read this as a reference to the Gospel of Matthew, a famous image where it goes, You are the light of the world. A city on a hill cannot be hidden. Neither do people light a lamp and put it under a bowl.
Bansho:Instead, they put it on its stand and it gives light to everyone in the house. In the same way, let your light shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your Father in heaven. So for those of you who, so you can read some of our teachings, some of the poems and make it your own in the way that Joyce Rupt did. Another modern poet that we read was David White. He's an Irish poet who lives on Whidbey Island.
Bansho:And this poem is called Everything is Waiting for You. You guys are getting Bonchos greatest hits. Everything is waiting for you. So again, perhaps listening for, what does this say about truth? Is there practice?
Bansho:Do we recognize practice? What is heart? Is there experience connecting you with this human? And notice the experience of your body or heart or mind, places of drawing forward or pushing away as you hear. Everything is waiting for you.
Bansho:Your great mistake is to act the drama as if you were alone, as if life were a progressive and cunning crime with no witness to the tiny hidden transgressions. To feel abandoned is to deny the intimacy of your surroundings. Surely, even you at times have felt the grand array, the swelling presence and the chorus crowding out your solo voice. You must note the way the soap dish enables you or the window latch grants you freedom. Alertness is the hidden discipline of familiarity.
Bansho:The stairs are your mentor of things to come. The doors have always been there to frighten you and invite you. And the tiny speaker in the phone is your dream ladder to divinity. Put down the weight of your aloneness and ease into the conversation. The kettle is singing even as it pours you a drink.
Bansho:The cooking pots have left their arrogant aloofness and seen the good in you
Jomon:at
Bansho:last. All the birds and creatures of the world are unutterably themselves. Everything is waiting for you. All the birds and creatures of the world are unutterably themselves. Everything is waiting for you.
Bansho:One of the So a few observations, one of the things that this poem evokes is interconnection and separation, the suffering of separation. The misknowing of our complete and total embeddedness in everything. So put down the weight of your aloneness. Another way is see through the sense of separation. This is one of the promises of our practice is to be able to dissolve the way that our mind works to separate us.
Bansho:And that this can be found in the ordinary world. This can be found with the tea kettle whistling while you pour, can be found in ordinary things, and that we can see that all the creatures of the world are being unutterably themselves. So how are you any different? How can you be the only one that isn't unutterably themselves? Your great mistake is to act the drama as if you were alone.
Bansho:The great mistake, this is the In Buddhism, we talk about delusion or ignorance. And this ignorance is miss knowing. It's not seeing clearly. And so our practice, the promise of our practice is that we can see clearly and experience directly our complete embeddedness in the universe and that it's not just an idea. Another teaching in this poem is, In sentient beings the that everything preaches reality, everything preaches reality, And through our practice, we become more and more present with ourselves, we're not in the struggle of perfectionist and pusher and inner critic, that as we practice, that becomes more and more held in a wider view, and then that allows things to come forward in their truth, and we can open.
Bansho:So the next poem I'd like to share is one that I gave as an example of a poem that I heard many, many times in Sashin or in other retreats, it's called The Guest House by Rumi. And this is a poem, I can't tell you how many sashins I've sat through and heard this poem over the past twenty years. And hearing it after fifteen years, something was opened up. So some of these poems or hymns or chants in our chant book continue to open up as our own flourishing and our own practice happens. So the guest house by Rumi, Rumi was a Sufi poet, Sufis are the mystical branch of Islam, and he was Persian, so he's from where is now modern Iran.
Bansho:The Guest House by Rumi, This being human is a guest house. Every morning, a new arrival, a joy, a depression, a meanness. Some momentary awareness comes as an unexpected visitor. Welcome and entertain them all. Even if there are crowd of sorrows who violently sweep your house empty of its furniture, still treat each guest honorably.
Bansho:They may be clearing you out for some new delight, the dark thought, the shame, the malice, meet them at the door laughing. And invite them in. Be grateful for whoever comes because each has been sent as a guide from beyond. This being human as a guest house, every morning a new arrival, a joy, a depression, a meanness, some momentary awareness comes as an unexpected visitor, welcome and entertain them all, even if they're a crowd of sorrows, a crowd of sorrows who violently sweep your house empty of its furniture. Still, treat each guest honorably.
Bansho:They may be clearing you out for some new delight. The dark thought, the shame, the malice meet them at the door laughing and invite them in. Be grateful for whoever comes because each has been sent as a guide from beyond. How would you practice this poem? How have you experienced this poem either in meditation or in your life?
Bansho:Joy, depression, meanness, unexpected visitors, unexpected thoughts that come forward, unexpected judgments, where did that come from? This poem points to our practice of metta, of loving kindness. It points to the stance of spiritual practice of meditation, that we aren't trying to find the right thoughts or the right We're not trying to simply feel better. Although when we practice, sometimes we feel better, that we're not looking for a temporary settling down, although that happens and that's wonderful, that's not all of it. That being a good host to our experience is our practice.
Bansho:Our Zazen, our seated meditation is being a good host for whatever comes, a joy, a depression, a meanness, some surprise, something just shows up. Crowd of sorrows, it all belongs, it all gets to be here. Welcome and entertain them all, they all get to be here. And what is a good host? People don't go to parties so much after COVID I hear, entertain people.
Bansho:If you've ever been to an event, a good host is present. They welcome you, they're paying attention. Just like in our meditation, we welcome, we're present. A good host is interested, interested in you, interested in what's happening. So in the same thing, our meditation, we're interested in what's happening.
Bansho:We're interested in the person. So what is happening in the body, heart, mind, interested in the breath, interested in sound. And a good host also moves on to the next thing. What else is happening? So a good host moves on to the next guest, doesn't become stuck talking to just the first person who walks in, moves on to what else is, and that's also our meditation.
Bansho:So we have a momentary sorrow moves in, we are with it, but we kinda keep talking to the sorrow. We don't have to do that because there's a bird that just started singing or the rain starts, or our nose itches. So being a good host to our experience, however it is. And then this final part, be grateful for whoever comes. Be grateful.
Bansho:So that's the stance of not just even paying attention and being interested and paying attention to the next thing, moving on. But the stance is grateful, how can I be grateful for a crowd of sorrows? How would we do that? The shame, the malice, it can all be turned into wisdom, it can all be turned into compassion. We can get opened up by everything, anything.
Bansho:The dark thought, the shame, working with that, working with the dynamics that we heard in The Perfect Cup about perfectionism and inner criticism and pushing, as that becomes more and more seen through, then that experience then can be brought forward for others. And be grateful for whoever comes because each has been sent as a guide from beyond in a way that is a leap of faith, But it's also, if we just look in our own experience, some of the things that we learn the most from were the hardest thing to go through. We learn a lot from the hard times. Learn a lot about ourselves and there's an opportunity. Be grateful for whoever comes, and this echo is one of Lojong slogans of Tibetan Buddhism, which is be grateful to everyone.
Bansho:And that is the stance of loving kindness of meta. That is what we align ourselves with through our practice. We work ourselves into that alignment, we practice into that alignment, we play into that alignment with this vast friendliness that we can all experience. So poems of working with the hindrances like the perfect cup, and then the capacity, what can come, poems of the extraordinary within the ordinary, like everything is waiting for you, It's a quality of right now. Rumi's The Guest House is a poem of practice with the heart mind understanding of the phenomena of the heart and mind is not separate from the liberated heart and mind.
Bansho:And then there are poems that point to the great mystery in a way these all point to the great mystery. I'd like to share some poems in our tradition from A. H. Dogen, these are poems that are timeless, direct pointing, and they're short. Because the mind is free, listening to the rain dripping from the eaves, the drops become one with me.
Bansho:Because the mind is free, listening to the rain dripping from the eaves, the drops become one with me. This is a poem called, Impermanence. To what shall I like in the world, moonlight reflected in dewdrops, shaken from a crane's bill. To what shall I like in the world, moonlight reflected in dewdrops, shaken from a crane's bill impermanence. Attaining the heart of the sutra are not even the sounds of the marketplace, the preaching of the dharma.
Bansho:Attaining the heart of the sutra are not even the sounds of the marketplace, the preaching of the Dharma. And finally, the true person is not anyone in particular, but like the deep blue color of the limitless sky, it is everyone, everywhere in the world. The true person is not anyone in particular, but like the deep blue color of the limitless sky, it is everyone, everywhere in the world. These are poems by, when we say the first ancestor in Japan, E. A.
Bansho:Dogen, who was a contemporary of Rumi. And these are point to, these are timeless, poems of timelessness and immediacy, direct pointing, direct experience and naturalness, the naturalness of moonlight reflected in dewdrops. And Dogan likening the world to dewdrops shaken from a crane's bill, how brief are those? How brief are dewdrops shaken from a bird's beak? A teaching that invites us to really look at just how fleeting our life is, and to appreciate and be grateful for this time flying through the air off of a crane's bill.
Bansho:And this, because the mind is free, that in of itself could be its own meditation, its own koan, how is the mind free? And he says, Because the mind is free, listening to the rain, the drops become one with me. This poem could just be your practice. Becoming one with the rain as we practice. So, I'd like to end with a couple of poems from the work that inspired me into practice eventually.
Bansho:And this is from Stephen Mitchell's translation of the Tao Te Ching, which is an ancient, ancient, ancient Chinese work. It was influential in Zen. So going from the ordinary workings of the mind in the perfect cup to the extraordinary in the ordinary, to the great mystery expressed. So the Tao, the way, reality is like a well used, but never used up. It is like the eternal void filled with infinite possibilities.
Bansho:It is hidden, but always present. I don't know who gave birth to it. It is older than God. When people see some things as beautiful, other things become ugly. When people see some things as good, other things become bad.
Bansho:Being and non being create each other, difficult and easy support each other, long and short define each other, high and low depend on each other, before and after follow each other. Therefore the master acts without doing anything and teaches without saying anything. Things arise and she lets them come. Things disappear and she lets them go. She has, but doesn't possess, acts, but doesn't expect.
Bansho:When her work is done, she forgets it. That's why it lasts forever. And finally, the Tao, the way, reality. The Tao doesn't take sides. It gives birth to both good and evil.
Bansho:The master doesn't take sides. She welcomes both saints and sinners. The Tao is like a bellows. It is empty, yet infinitely capable. The more you use it, the more it produces.
Bansho:The more you talk of it, the less you understand. Hold on to the center. Though Tao is like a bellows, it is empty yet infinitely capable. The more you use it, the more it produces, the more you talk of it, the less you understand.
Jomon:Thank you for listening to the Zen Community of Oregon podcast, and thank you for your practice. New episodes air every week. Please consider making a donation at zendesk.org. Your support supports us.