“Beings are numberless, I vow to awaken with them.”

Many people think of Zen practice as either devotion to a rigorous meditation regime or contemplation of ineffable statements known as koans. Few would say that a vow to live for benefit all beings is the central aspect of a tradition known for stories of intimidating masters, radical poets and cryptic hermits. Yet this intention is precisely what Zen priest, translator, and author, Shohaku Okumura makes clear in his recent book, Living by Vow: A Practical Introduction to Eight Essential Zen Chants and Texts. Okumura’s book liberates Zen practice from the rising tide of self-help-ism that has crept into much American Buddhist discourse and reminds us of the profound inmost intention of its founders.

Vow

“All aspects of our practice–zazen in the monk’s hall, chanting of verses and sutras during services, ceremonies in the Dharma hall–and all our other activities in daily life are the practice of the bodhisattva vow actualized moment by moment. We chant these verses and sutras as an expression of this interpenetrating reality with all beings throughout endless time and boundless space.” (p 11)

So, obvious things like our formal practice of zazen or ceremonies arise from vow. Surprisingly, the minute particulars of our everyday life, including even our everyday delusions and shortcomings, are also expressions of vow. But the vow is not for oneself alone. Zen practice is not a personal self-improvement project. We take this vow for the benefit of, and with the support of, “all beings throughout endless time and boundless space.”

In the eight chapters of Living by Vow, Okumura guides us into historical expressions of vow, vows of prominent Zen teachers, and his own. He cites Pali texts, Mahayana sutras and Zen stories to reveal the function of vow not just in Zen, but in Theravada and Mahayana Buddhist practice. He draws deeply from the teachings of Dogen Zenji, his own teacher, Uchiyama Kosho Roshi, and Katagiri Dainin Roshi.

It was Katagiri Roshi, an important founder and transmitter of Zen to America, who indirectly prompted the lectures that form the book. Following Katagiri’s death in 1991, Okumura was named interim head teacher at the Minnesota Zen Meditation Center, which was founded by Katagiri. The task of filling Katagiri’s shoes led him to use the MZMC chant book as a source of lecture material. Okumura explored Katagiri’s teaching notes, style, and legacy to discover his understanding and use of vow. For one example, the MZMC temple’s Japanese name, Gansho, means “living by vow.”

What, then, is this vow? Okumura says

“I believe that all verses and scriptures in the Soto Zen tradition are based on the Mahayana teaching of the bodhisattva vow.” (p 2)

Chapter one takes up the Four Bodhisattva Vows. Many Mahayana Buddhists are familiar with the most common expression of the bodhisattva vow given in the Four Bodhisattva Vows. One translation of the vow examined in the book comes from the MZMC chant book:

“Sentient beings are numberless; I vow to save them.
Desires are inexhaustible; I vow to put an end them.
The dharmas are boundless; I vow to master them.
Buddha’s way is unsurpassable; I vow to attain it.”

Often associated with Mahayana Buddhist schools, the bodhisattva vow can be traced to ancient teachings in the Pali Canon. Okumura relates one of the Jataka tales from these early Buddhist scriptures. The Jataka tales are colorful stories about the Buddha, Siddhartha Gautama, before his awakening. They include stories of Siddhartha as various incarnations of animals–rabbit, tigress, deer–and as human beings. The tales are a rich expression of biological diversity and moral behavior at the same time. The tale of Sumedha, however, is about a Brahmin prince who renounces the world and vows to attain enlightenment for the benefit of all beings. He is pronounced a bodhisattva, “awakening/awakened being,” and predicted to become a Buddha in a future life.

“The archetypal image of the bodhisattva in this story suggests that all Mahayana practice is based on the bodhisattva vow. The vow has two aspects: becoming buddha and helping all beings become buddha.” (p 6)

Okumura shows how these two aspects, the personal and the universal, are inseparable and reflected throughout Mahayana and Zen scripture and practice.

Opening this chapter on the Four Bodhisattva Vows, Okumura tells a story about being asked by an American Catholic nun, the abbess at a convent in Kyoto, to give a talk on prayer in Buddhism. Preparing for the talk, he realized there is no prayer in Buddhism, but that vow fulfilled a similar function. Specifically, the Four Vows give an expression of vow that allowed him to make this connection.

“When I explained the four bodhisattva vows to the Christian nuns, I told them that I see a basic contradiction between the first and second half of each sentence. ‘Sentient beings are numberless; I vow to save them’: but if they are numberless, we cannot possibly save them all–this is a contradiction…These contradictions are very important and have a profound practical and religious meaning.

“This means that our practice is endless and that we cannot completely fulfill the four vows. Our practice and study are like trying to empty the ocean with a spoon, one spoonful at a time. It is certainly a stupid way of life, not a clever one. A clever person cannot be a bodhisattva. We are aiming at something eternal, infinite, and absolute. No matter how hard we practice, study, and help other people, there is no end to it all. When we compare our achievement with something infinite, absolute, and eternal, it’s like nothing.”

By saying it’s like nothing, he doesn’t mean we shouldn’t take this vow and nor make no effort because we are all worthless. Okumura finds a liberating dimension to the contradiction:

“We shouldn’t compare our practice, our understanding, or our achievements with those of other people. When we do, we become competitive. We think, ‘I am better than them’ or ‘I’m practicing harder.’ Our practice becomes a competition based on egocentricity, something totally meaningless as a practice of the Buddha’s Way. We cannot peacefully settle down in such a competitive practice. No matter how hard or long we practice, if our practice is based on ego, we are totally deluded. Such practice leads to a selfish view, arrogance, and self-attachment [a.k.a., kleshas, or hindrances. –kh]. Even though we think we are practicing the Dharma, we are against the Dharma completely. When we understand that our goal is eternal, infinite, and absolute, no matter how hard we practice, no matter how many things we master, no matter how deep our understanding of Buddha’s teaching, compared to the infinite, we are zero. We cannot afford to be arrogant.

“There is a another side to this. Even if we cannot practice as hard, sit as long, study as much, or understand as deeply as others, we don’t need to feel guilty or inferior. Compared to the eternal, the absolute, or the infinite, we are all equal to zero. There is something deeply meaningful in our comparison to the absolute. Understanding ourselves in this way frees our practice from competition based on selfishness. This is a most important point. We cannot be proud of our practice, and we don’t need to be too humble about our lack of practice or understanding. We are just as we are. Our practice is to take one more step toward the infinite, the absolute, moment by moment, one step at a time.” (p 19-20)

Or, as a friend of mine put it concisely: “No puffery or shrinkery.”

 

Zazen and Vow

Okumura is a student and translator of Dogen Zenji, the 13th-century founder of Soto Zen in Japan. In collaboration with Taigen Daniel Leighton, he has produced indispensable translations of  Dogen’s lectures, Dogen’s Extensive Record, and monastic practice guidelines (which can be inspiration for home practice), Pure Standards for the Zen Community. In this chapter, Okumura introduces Dogen’s profound insight into the nonduality of practice:

“According to Dogen Zenji, this one step, or even half step, in our practice is the manifestation of absolute enlightenment. This is what he meant when he spoke of ‘just sitting,’ or shikantaza. When we sit, we just sit. That doesn’t mean we don’t need to do anything else. It doesn’t mean we are all right only when we are sitting. It means that when we sit, there is no comparison. We are right now, right here, with this body and mind, awakening to reality. This is the complete manifestation of absolute, infinite, eternal enlightenment.” (p 20)

An astonishing insight! Our vow and its expression in zazen puts us in our place: in relation to the infinite, where we can let go of our selfish notions and be “just as we are.”  Speaking to the nuns in Kyoto, Okumura linked this relationship to a Christian praying to God and thus is “standing before God,” the infinite or absolute.  In such a relation, one’s precious self-centered views are challenged to the core.

 

The Three Minds: The Attitude of Vow

Although commonly associated with devotion to the “single practice” of zazen and strong monastic forms, Dogen frequently shares insights and inspirations for a big-hearted practice in daily activities. “Instructions to the Cook” is a classic example in which Dogen gives specific directions for management of a monastery kitchen–and really any kitchen or any activity–along with images and teachings that encourage an attentive yet spacious attitude. From this work, Okumura introduces the teachings of the Three Minds: joyful mind, nurturing (or parental) mind, and magnanimous mind. These minds, or attitudes, of the cook can also be brought to other daily activities: driving in heavy traffic, meeting work deadlines, and attending close relationships.

For Dogen, joyful mind is cultivated through reflecting on the fortunate causes and conditions that have brought one to practice. In heavenly realms where beings enjoy a steady stream of luxury and pleasure, no one thinks about awakening to reality. Beings suffering hellish realms experience continuous torment and anguish and are unable to turn their minds toward practice. In Buddhist cosmology, existence in these realms is temporary. Okumura sees the realms as metaphor for our own experience of this life. When causes and conditions change, one is reborn into another realm. Which realm one find oneself in is determined by one’s actions in previous lives. The human realm is positioned between the extremes of heaven and hell, and therefore, conditions are favorable to arousing the mind of awakening and pursuing practice. Therefore, gratitude is a basic component of joyful mind. Dogen writes:

“…so you should enjoy this life and this body resulting from incalculable ages of worthy activity. This merit can never fade…You should engage in and carry out this work with the vow to include one thousand or ten thousand lives in one day or one time.” (p 37)

In our favorable condition as a human being, we should not ride our merit off into the sunset. Our gratitude and joy is expressed by fully engaging in this life as it is. Okumura comments on Dogen’s instruction:

“As far as our attitude is concerned, eternity and this moment are one. This means that what we do this moment is not a step to the next stage. We cook not to feed people but to cook. When we cook, cooking itself should be our practice. It should not be a preparation for something else. Cooking is in itself a perfect action if it is cooking just for the sake of cooking. When the food is ready, just offer it. Offering is not the result of cooking as preparation. Offering is just offering. Eating is just eating. Each moment is perfect in itself, not a step to the next one. Each moment is one with eternity. This is the attitude we should maintain.”

We work, cook, or create while giving up attachment to future imagined outcomes. Bodhisattva action is not driven by a sense of gain. As taught in the Diamond Sutra, a gift is not a gift if there are strings attached.

Okumura concludes,

“If we do things for our private gain or personal benefit, then no matter how hard we work, no matter how much we achieve, it will come to an end. Instead, we dedicate our work to all beings. That is our attitude toward work and toward other people. That is joyful mind.” (p 38)

In the liturgy following zazen practice, we remind ourselves of this attitude in the Dedication of Merit. We offer the merit of our personal practice to the benefit of all beings. Of course, as my teachers have reminded me, each of us is included within “all beings.” We are not separate.

The second of the three minds is parental, or nurturing mind. Dogen calls it “the mind of mothers and fathers. For example it is active when we consider the Three Treasures–Buddha, Dharma, and Sangha–in the way a mother and father think of their only child.”

Okumura comments,

“It is especially important to have this attitude when we practice in a community. The attitude of parents is to take care of others. When we live [or practice] together, caring and being cared for are the same. The reality of what is happening is the same. The inner attitude of the caregiver, however, is very different from that of the one who expects to be cared for. This difference determines the quality of the community. A place where people want to be taken care of is very different from a place where people care for others. We should understand that this small difference in our inner attitude has very large effects on the world around us.”

Well, then, maybe it’s not a small difference!

Okumura links Dogen’s description of the cook’s practice of nurturing mind to zazen practice.

“For Dogen this attitude is one of ‘watching over water and over grain.’ Here he is talking about the tenzo’s work. When the tenzo cooks, he must take care of water, grain, fire, everything that happens in the kitchen.

“This attitude, concentrating on a particular thing while remaining aware of everything else, is the same as in our zazen. We don’t concentrate our mind on a certain object in our zazen. Our mind is nowhere and at the same time everywhere. It’s the same as when we are driving. We don’t focus our attention on a particular object like the steering wheel, but are just awake. Our mind is really nowhere, which means everywhere. When our mind is nowhere and everywhere, we can react very naturally to whatever happens. That is our zazen. Our minds should not be fixed in one place but rather be nowhere and everywhere. That is our awakening. That is parental mind.” (p 40)

Those familiar with the Buddha’s teaching of lovingkindness will recognize parental mind. Instructing his disciples on how to make peace with various troublesome beings in the forests in which they practiced meditation, the Buddha taught them to have a parental mind:

“Even as a mother, at the expense of her own life, watches over and protects her only child, so should one with a boundless mind watch over and protect all living beings.”

The third of the three minds, magnanimous mind is an attitude that is vast, generous and unbiased. Okumura again quotes Dogen:

“The third aspect of the attitude advocated by Dogen Zenji is magnanimous mind. ‘As for what is called magnanimous mind,’ he said, ‘this mind is like the great mountains or the great ocean; it is not a biased or contentious mind.'”

“‘Carrying half a pound, do not take it lightly; lifting forty pounds should not seem heavy.’ Here again Dogen is talking about cooking. Sometimes we cook for one or two people. Sometimes we have to cook for one or two hundred people. We should not think that to prepare a meal for one or two people is easy or that to prepare a meal for many people is heavy or difficult. We take the same careful, attentive attitude in either case.”

In other words, drop yourself into the cauldron of present conditions and be cooked.

Okumura’s teacher, Kosho Uchiyama Roshi, had a wonderful expression for practicing magnanimous mind. In his commentary on a passage in Dogen’s “Instructions for the Cook” that describes how separating sand from rice is an opportunity to practice magnanimous mind, Uchiyama clarifies:

“So, in our daily lives, we have to discriminate, but what we must not forget is the fundamental attitude grounding this discrimination: everything we encounter is our life. This is the attitude of Big Mind.” (How to Cook Your Life: From the Zen Kitchen to Enlightenment, p 47)

The sand and rice are both our life. We must take care of both, even though it’s the rice we’re going to cook. For me, this is also an essential ecological awareness and guide for action on a small planet.

In the following chapters of Living by Vow, Okumura takes us into the expression of vow found in seven other core Zen texts, including the meal chant, the Heart Sutra, and an old teaching poem, “Merging of Difference and Unity.” He weaves history, teachings of the ancients, and his own experience and insight to illuminate the the depth and application of the Zen practice. Okumura Roshi has expressed his vow by serving us this excellent offering.