January 1, 2015
Manjusri and Guanyin
Dear Bodhisattvas,
It seems a particular blessing to end and begin a year in Colorado Springs with a fresh, days-long cover of snow followed by days of keen, clear, unobstructed sunshine in midwinter cold: the snow, Guanyin’s cloak, enfolding everything, obliterating any distinction, meeting all with the light touch of crystalline water that will slowly melt, bringing life; and the piercing rays of our nearest star, our own star, illuminating the finest edges of twigs against the sky, of pine needle and bird feather, the corners of walls, the faces of the people we meet. And somehow the deep, deep winter cold has held all in its utter simplicity: cold, cold everywhere, the entire vast universe cold for this long moment.
I enter the year in deep gratitude for these companions. May we walk together with them as our guides. We can hear them in the voices of Bodhidharma (“The way things are is mysterious, and hard to see…..”) and Dogen (“The Buddha’s seed grows when you don’t take life.”) as well as in the voices of the bird on the branch, the wails of suffering on the news, our companions inside and outside of the Hall, and the koans handed to us by our ancestors, our friends. May we stand ready like the servant whose head is bent to hear instructions, ready to meet what comes to meet us. However this year’s beginning finds us, we are very fortunate, indeed.
Our winter koan series begins this Sunday afternoon. I find both a koan and a poem want to come.
Zhaozhou and an Infant’s Sixth Sense
Blue Cliff Record, Case 80 (trans. by Joan Sutherland and John Tarrant)
A student asked Zhaozhou, “Does a newborn baby have consciousness?
Zhaozhou said, “Tossing a ball on rushing waters.”
The student went on to ask Touzi, “what does ‘tossing a ball on rushing waters’ mean?”
Touzi said, “Moment after moment, it never stops flowing.”
Note: Literally, the sixth sense, which is consciousness (the first five are sight, hearing, smell, taste, and touch). Yuanwu quotes master Shando: “Among the sixteen contemplation practices, the baby’s practice is the best. When she’s babbling she symbolizes the person studying the Way, with her detachment from the discriminating mind that grasps and rejects.”
and the poem:
Sonnets to Orpheus, Part Two XXIX
Quiet friend who has come so far,
feel how your breathing makes more space around you.
Let this darkness be a bell tower
and you the bell. As you ring,
What batters you becomes your strength.
Move back and forth into the change.
What is it like, such intensity of pain?
If the drink is bitter, turn yourself to wine.
In this uncontainable night,
be the mystery at the crossroads of your senses,
the meaning discovered there.
And if the world has ceased to hear you,
say to the silent earth: I flow.
To the rushing water, speak: I am.
Rainer Maria Rilke
Wishing you joy in this new year,
Sarah Bender