Going to Ground: Samatha

Kaizan Doug Jacobson began practicing Zen in 1974 with Dainin Katagiri Roshi in Minneapolis; he had Jukai in 1977. A householder, father, contractor, and civil/tunnel engineer, following his retirement, he became a full-time resident at Jikoji Zen Center near Los Gatos. He received priest ordination in 2010 and Dharma transmission from Shoho Michael Newhall in 2015. He has led many sesshins, monthly zazenkais, periodic seasonal nature sesshins, and weekly dharma discussion groups. He also helps to maintain and develop infrastructure at Jikoji, getting his hands dirty as a form of Zen practice. In addition, he assists prisoners with Buddhist practice.

Full Transcript

Well, thanks for having me again today. Today, I want to talk about perceptions and projections. It seems to be where troubles arise.

Last night, I had an unusual effect. I slept under the stars, and in going to sleep, I thought I'm going to keep my gaze on one star. As I looked at that one star, I could not help but feel that it was moving up. It always felt like my eyes were moving up, even though I knew it wasn't moving because it was in relation to another star. Yet the illusion of looking at it, I could feel it going up. It almost felt like I had to keep looking up, and yet it wasn't moving. Even though I could tell myself that it wasn't moving, that sensory effect of it moving was there.

Then it dawned on me, I've encountered people, maybe some of you have too, that said, "I saw a UFO. I looked up at the sky and it was moving." And this is for minute after minute after minute. I couldn't quell that sensation of movement. And I wondered, is that connected to some trouble, you know, some trouble of like trying to hold on to something? Is it a sensory defect? Other times I can look at something and they don't go up and down. But this particular star was doing that. It just made me fully experience how that perception is illusory. The star, you know, of course, it's probably moved since the light left that star. But the sensation of it moving was something I could not quench. And yet I knew it wasn't moving.

So how to approach our perceptions in a way that allows us to see things as it is instead of, "Oh, it's a UFO" or "It's a mirage out in a desert, there's water. I'm sure there's water out there."

Out of the Lankavatara Sutra, I want to share a little bit of the Buddhist teachings on projections. He talks about some characteristics of word projections. There are a lot of different kinds of projections, but in this case, it's word projections. I'll read here from section thirty-two, where Mahamati asked the Buddha to explain the essential characteristics of word projection. And the Buddha says:

There are four kinds of word projection: object words, dream words, words for attachment to mistaken projections, and words for projections without beginning. Object words arise from attachment to forms and characteristics and their projections. Dream words arise from recalling, recollecting previously experienced realms that are no longer existent in dreams, in past experiences. Words for attachment to mistaken projections arise from remembering previous acts of hostility. And the fourth one is projections from habit energies, the seeds of past attachments that are beginningless projections that we have.

I want to speak to all of these, but in particular, the third one. Again, the object words are words of attachment to forms and characteristics. We can feel attached to "That's my child over there." And there's a whole range of attachments that can be to something you think you possess. The child might not feel so possessed, but there's these notions we have that have attachments of longing, of fears, of desire.

And then dream words, which arise and I think one example of dream words would be a rabbit with horns. You know, you can say that and you can imagine a rabbit with horns. You'll have trouble maybe finding one. And yet it's characteristic of this kind of projection.

The third one is words for attachment to mistaken projections that arise from recollecting previous acts, previous acts of hostility. I want to share what Red Pine's commentary is on this. Because the other side of hostility is kindness, and so could there be word projections for hostility and kindness? He says some commentators on this sutra think hostility here is short for hostility and kindness. But this is not supported by any of the other texts that he used for verifying the different meanings of the sutra. He goes on to say that the place of hostility here is clear when it is understood as the seventh form of consciousness or ego consciousness. And whoever and wherever the ego is involved, hostility, not kindness, is the operant emotion. So perceptions of kindness might actually be thus kindness. Hostility, though, arises from ego consciousness.

I got an example I want to share. I came into a house. I own a house. I'm a home leaver as a monk, but I'm also a home gainer due to some family circumstances. So I came into a house that came not only with walls and a roof and floors and a basement, a barn, but it has old modest chandeliers and couches and kitchen utensils and plates and cups and wine glasses and all sorts of things that we use. And I have four, I call them rumors, R-O-O-M-E-R-S that live in the house instead of renters. I call them rumors. We're sharing the house. And it makes it a more peaceful abode for all of us, I think. Probably especially for them. But it also gives me a sense that I have roommates instead of renters, even though they contribute to.

But one day I came back and I came back home after traveling and I went to make myself some eggs and toast and went to the kitchen drawer to pull out the silverware and all the forks, but six were gone. You know, there were the forks from this house were old forks, except for the six in the drawer. They were all these jintzy, funky, you know, forks that were in the drawer. And I had a feeling like, where are my forks? I own this house. These are my forks. Where did they go? And so there's little ego consciousness coming up, you know, of possessiveness.

And what's fun about this, having this house is I get to explore these different realms in this guy still that arise. If I didn't have the house, I wouldn't have this concern about the forks. They belonged to my former cousin-in-law and I, you know, my job was to take care of them and they're disappeared. And my God, what's become of them?

So the now the four rumors in the house are all under 30, one's twenty-seven, two of them are twenty-four and one's twenty-two. So it's nice to have young people in the house. But the eldest, who's twenty-seven, likes to prepare dinner for his friends and take it to the garden next door and serve a meal. And that's what he did. And so when he came back home, he came over and I said, "Where are my forks?" And he felt a lot of consternation because he's taken them before to go serve his friends in these gardens before.

And so we sat down and talked for a while and he said, "Doug, you know, you frightened people around here. It might be helpful to have a little more nuance in your approach." And I said, "Yeah, thank you. That's a good suggestion." So I said, "Well, let me try a little nuance here." So I said, "Young man, you know, I appreciate that you make these wonderful meals for your friends and take good care of them and put on a good display. And thank you for leaving six forks." And so he said that the previous my cousin had his approach was always like, "Oh, what a wonderful job you did in cleaning the kitchen." It was a positive response.

So in comparing this, "Where are my forks" to "Thank you for leaving some forks so that the rest of us in the house could have it until you're done cleaning" just shows how mine, you know, becomes operative a lot of times when that's there's a concern that hasn't been inspected enough to maybe a more generous approach can be arrived at. So the forks didn't disappear. They're still in this universe. They're still they're back in the drawer. And I've learned a little more nuance, which, you know, we chanted the dharmas is subtle, infinitely subtle. And so to keep finding those subtleties is really important for me. And I think that's the way it is for everybody.

So the use of words is important. But they also result in possibly divergence from the truth. And so the Buddha goes on to say that words are not ultimate truth. Nor is what they express ultimate truth. How so? The ultimate truth is what Buddhas delight in and what words lead to is ultimate truth. But words are not ultimate truth. Ultimate truth is attained by the personal realization of Buddha knowledge. So ultimate truth is attained by experience of the subtle of the profound. It is not a realm known by means of the projection of words. Therefore, the projection of words does not express ultimate truth.

So there are characteristics that we use to describe things. And then there's attachment to these words. And so there are characteristics that we use to describe things. And then there's attachment to these characteristics that we have that we need to pay attention to.

Thank you.