Another version of the "skies and clouds analogy"

[Hōzan]

Wanted to share a version of the “skies and clouds analogy” of our practice that I came across. It resonates well with me. This is Guo Gu’s version and from his book ‘Silent illumination’. I think the analogy lends itself well to explain the role of shikantaza and how other methods of practice can help us cultivate a zazen mind (if, and only if, I have understood this correctly). Have also tried to supplement the analogy a tiny bit, in line with my humble understanding.

In this version we are asked to imagine a room with furniture, stuff, dirt, etc. The spaciousness of the room corresponds to the sky (buddah nature) and the furniture, stuff, dirt, etc. corresponds to the clouds (narratives, knowledge, constructs, personal experience, etc.).

We are asked to imagine two scenarios. In the first scenario the room is a mess. Many furniture, pictures on the wall, colors of the walls are not “in style”, and its dirty. It is difficult to see the spaciousness of the room as our attention is drawn to all the clutter. In the second scenario the room is streamlined, “in style”, clean, and minimalistic. It is easier to see the spaciousness of the room.

The room’s spaciousness is always there independent of how much furniture or other stuff that clutters the room, in the same way as the sky is always behind the clouds. Everything is perfect as it is. To see the spaciousness of the room (independent of the clutter) is zazen mind and what we practice with our shikantaza zazen. A very direct and pragmatic approach.

The problem is not really with the furniture, etc. itself, but rather with our rigid fixation on them. We are attached to the furniture, level of cleanliness, the colors on the walls, etc. However, cleaning out the room (take away some furniture, repaint the walls, clean, etc.) COULD be helpful to more easily see the spaciousness of the room. I guess these are all the practices we do other than our shikantaza (e.g., precepts, mindfulness, nurturing seeds practice, etc.).

With this analogy it became easier for me to understand some differences across different streams of zen. Some teachers emphasize that we need to clean the room first and then try to see the space – a sequential approach. Others recommend a two-front assault, as our own Jundo

Maybe helpful to someone else as well Sorry for running long.

Gassho, Michael
Satlah

[Tokan]

Thank you Michael

When I do the housework, I tidy one thing at a time, bowing to each thing in it's own state of messiness or tidiness, perfectly as it is. Without the mess I cannot do either the Bodhisattva work of caring for my family (actual tidying!) or recognise delusive attachments to notions of tidy, unclean, cluttered, perfect, imperfect. I have a small house, I do not have a full room to dedicate to zazen, so I am surrounded by the things of life. Whether the internal or external state, I clean knowing that the cleaning will never be finished, complete, even unto my dying breath, and I accept that whatever is...is. That said, as you say, we do use other techniques or tools to aid our practice, a simple altar, a dedicated corner of the room that is free of clutter, a space that we hope to mirror with our mental state, and also the mind-cleaning (of greed, anger and ignorance) through metta, LAH, nurturing seeds, tonglen, etc. In zazen, of course, we do nothing because there is nothing lacking, nothing in excess, so nothing to do but sit!

Thanks for sharing this Michael, I'm just sharing my thoughts back with you, and leaves much unsaid too!

May we all realise and live the enlightened way together!


Gassho, Tokan

satlah

[Jundo]

Yes, lovely.

We do not need to empty the room of all furniture and life, nor can we live in a room totally emptied of all furnishings and life action (that would leave the room quite barren and lifeless, just unused room.) However, the excess clutter and mess does tend to hide the open clarity of the light and space from us.

Best to keep the (mental and physical) room rather neat and simple, for it makes it a bit easier to realize the light and open spaciousness. Zazen does let us simplify, "straighten up" the furnishing of our thoughts and emotions, and find the open light and air.

However, we should never forget that all the light and spaciousness is ultimately the furnishings and life (even the clutter), and all the clutter, life and furnishings is the light and spaciousness in other guise, even when we do not realize so. No matter what is in the room, how much, how tangled, how messy or unpleasant ... it is still the light and spaciousness. Every grain of dust, even every scene of anger and fighting that may happen in the room, is pure and shining with light. However, the mess and tangle, violence and ugliness does make it hard to see, plus downright unpleasant as a place to reside.

The Bodhisattva should realize that light is dust and dark, dark and dust are the light. There is never need for cleaning. Nonetheless, we clean anyway, for we have need to live in this room (our world). We do not want to live in a polluted and violent place, so let us keep the room clean, neat and peaceful, filled with love and caring.

What is more, this room does not even have walls, floors or ceiling, and is truly boundless.

Gassho, J

stlah

[michaelw]

There is an expression that I believe is Japanese(?) 'to learn to drink from an empty cup'.
That's how I cope with being a minimalist living with a maximalist.

Gassho

MichaelW

satlah

[Hōzan]

Without the mess I cannot (...) recognise delusive attachments to notions of tidy, unclean, cluttered, perfect, imperfect.

We might say we need the mess. Thank you.

Gassho, Michael
Satlah

[Hōzan]

Maybe another way we could use this analogy is to demonstrate why our sitting is not really meditation. I don’t know. Maybe?

We organize, streamline, and clean out the furniture and mess in order to make it easier to see the spaciousness of the room. These are methods of practice. Meditation is a method of practice. Meditation means to cultivate or produce something, as in bhāvanā (?). We meditate in order to achieve something. This is also true for mindfulness, chanting, rituals, bowing, samu, relaxation techniques, etc.

However, in our shikantaza zazen, we completely put away this ‘in order to’. Radical goalessness, as you say, Jundo It is the exact opposite of meditation (or methods of practice). We don’t try and we don’t judge. We just see the spaciousness of the room.

Sorry for running long again.

Gassho, Michael
Satlah

[Bion]

Maybe another way we could use this analogy is to demonstrate why our sitting is not really meditation. I don’t know. Maybe?

We organize, streamline, and clean out the furniture and mess in order to make it easier to see the spaciousness of the room. These are methods of practice. Meditation is a method of practice. Meditation means to cultivate or produce something, as in bhāvanā (?). We meditate in order to achieve something. This is also true for mindfulness, chanting, rituals, bowing, samu, relaxation techniques, etc.

However, in our shikantaza zazen, we completely put away this ‘in order to’. Radical goalessness, as you say, Jundo It is the exact opposite of meditation (or methods of practice). We don’t try and we don’t judge. We just see the spaciousness of the room.

Sorry for running long again.

Gassho, Michael
Satlah

Personally, I’d go a step further, and say we are [the] Room, beyond spacious or small, clutter or tidiness, inside or outside. All that is is the room, whether it is the southern wall, the chair, the window or the ray of light piercing through it. Every bit of it, beyond judgment and separation is entirely the room and the room does not divide itself into what is in or out, here or there. But that’s just my experience, so.. don’t trust it!

Sat Today

[Jacob Janicek]

Thank you Michael

When I do the housework, I tidy one thing at a time, bowing to each thing in it's own state of messiness or tidiness, perfectly as it is. Without the mess I cannot do either the Bodhisattva work of caring for my family (actual tidying!) or recognise delusive attachments to notions of tidy, unclean, cluttered, perfect, imperfect. I have a small house, I do not have a full room to dedicate to zazen, so I am surrounded by the things of life. Whether the internal or external state, I clean knowing that the cleaning will never be finished, complete, even unto my dying breath, and I accept that whatever is...is. That said, as you say, we do use other techniques or tools to aid our practice, a simple altar, a dedicated corner of the room that is free of clutter, a space that we hope to mirror with our mental state, and also the mind-cleaning (of greed, anger and ignorance) through metta, LAH, nurturing seeds, tonglen, etc. In zazen, of course, we do nothing because there is nothing lacking, nothing in excess, so nothing to do but sit!

Thanks for sharing this Michael, I'm just sharing my thoughts back with you, and leaves much unsaid too!

May we all realise and live the enlightened way together!


Gassho, Tokan

satlah

Thank you for sharing this, I really appreciate knowing I'm not the only one who deals with the not having dedicated space to practice in. Currently reside in a comfortable but rather barebones apartment with enough space for my wife and son and not much else, and he certainly tests my ability to see the sky behind the clouds.

Jacob Jay
Sat today

[Tokan]

Gassho Jacob

At the end of the day, it's a bit of everything isn't it? Just like Jundo and Bion pointed out...

Personally, I’d go a step further, and say we are [the] Room, beyond spacious or small, clutter or tidiness, inside or outside. All that is is the room, whether it is the southern wall, the chair, the window or the ray of light piercing through it. Every bit of it, beyond judgment and separation is entirely the room and the room does not divide itself into what is in or out, here or there.

This is the basic fact we dwell in, reality just as it is, not this or that, not even one because to have 'oneness' you must have 'not-one-ness' too. In some ways I prefer the word harmony to all things being one, it suggests that each thing can be each other thing but still retain it's own function (like a zafu). I think it all points to the same realization in the end, but how we must juggle with words to help understand the thing that cannot be understood! Here's how I turn a little bookcase into a nifty mobile altar that can sit anywhere in the house.

Alter 1 Upload.jpg Alter 2 Upload.jpg (hope these look okay, having an issue with new phone - resizing of pictures).

I posted this in the kesa sewing thread earlier, really just about practicing in the context of a busy/crowded family life.

Last week I had a day with no-one at home, perfect 'space' for sitting a recorded zazenkai. I just get started on the heart sutra then my phone goes, one of the kids is sick and probably should be at home. Ah, okay, zazenkai later then. Go get one of the three small children I have, he has a sore tummy, wants to sit on the couch. Okay, maybe I can get back to zazenkai for a bit while he rests. Doorbell rings, parcel. Righto. Sit back down after checking Daniel. Now Daniel asking for food, okay son. Maybe I'll leave zazen for now, be with my child for a bit. He says, "I'm okay now dad," maybe I'll sew for a while then so I can remain attentive to him if necessary. I have a fleeting thought that it's tough to practice sometimes, then I remind myself that it is 'all' practice and bow. I get out my sewing and start a row. I get about ten or so stitches along and my wife calls, there's something I apparently need to take care of before I pick the other kids up from school. Okay. Sewing carefully put back away. I get another fleeting thought, "oh it will be hard to finish the kesa if this keeps up!" Then it occurs to me, finish what? Back to thinking about one stitch at a time, whether life or the kesa, they are one.

One last point about the cleaning and tidying though, I treat this as samu, and (although I have OCD and therefore issues with symmetry, etc) I perform my household chores with love and care, not quite to the detail of oryoki or the Japanese tea ceremony, but with sacredness and gratitude, moving gracefully rather than rushing (most of the time anyway), like the clouds moving across the sky.

Gassho, Tokan

satlah

[Hōzan]

There is an expression that I believe is Japanese(?) 'to learn to drink from an empty cup'.

To drink emptiness. To see that what you drink in the cup is empty. To see that there is no one who does the drinking.

Gassho, Michael
Sat

[Hōzan]

Personally, I’d go a step further, and say we are [the] Room, beyond spacious or small, clutter or tidiness, inside or outside.

Thank you. You see the spaciousness of the room, and when you see this, you become the room, and the room becomes you.

Gassho, Michael
Sat

[Yokai]

Lovely insights. Thank you

Gassho, Yokai

sat/lah

[Seiko]

Cleaning, painting, yes we do these things, but in my circumstances there is a balance to reach. Too much energy in sprucing the place up can quickly lead to exhaustion and increases in my pain levels.
Interestingly, people overseeing the rebuild of Notre Dame are worried that the absence of dust inside the cathedral will change / spoil the acoustics. So perhaps, in some circumstances, the presence of dust is desirable. As long as you are not wading through it.

Gasshō
Seiko
stlah

[Hōzan]

Cleaning, painting, yes we do these things, but in my circumstances there is a balance to reach. Too much energy in sprucing the place up can quickly lead to exhaustion and increases in my pain levels.
Interestingly, people overseeing the rebuild of Notre Dame are worried that the absence of dust inside the cathedral will change / spoil the acoustics. So perhaps, in some circumstances, the presence of dust is desirable. As long as you are not wading through it.

Gasshō
Seiko
stlah

Makes sense; people maybe need different medicine depending on their minds? Some don’t need to tidy at all to see the spaciousness of the room, some need a balance/ a bit tidying to see it, some need it fully streamlined at all times, and others can probably deal with a lot of mess as long as it have once been fully tidied. Don’t know.

Gassho, Michael
Satlah

[Chikyou]

Coming back to the Sangha after a week of so away due to an explosion of work duties, I find this wonderful discussion.

Thank you for sharing your wisdom with us.

Gassho,
SatLah
Kelly

[Tomás ESP]

I wonder where this analogy comes from originally, I have heard Rupert Spira also use it quite a few times. Thank you for sharing it.

Gassho, Tomás
Sat&LaH

[Jundo]

I wonder where this analogy comes from originally ...

I dare say that it comes from looking up, seeing the sky and the clouds floating by.

Our Soto ancestor Sekito in the 8th century is quoted as using it (in Dogen's Shinji Shobogenzo).

A monk asked Sekito, "What is the essential meaning of Buddha-Dharma?"

Sekito said, "No gaining, no knowing."

The monk said, " Can you say anything further?"

Sekito said, "The expansive sky does not obstruct the floating white clouds."

The symbolism of clouds and sky is an ancient motif in China. Here is more information than you ever possibly need about that: https://japanesemythology.wordpress....nd-its-origin/

By the way, in our Zendo in Tsukuba, I have a scroll hanging by my Dharma Grandfather, Niwa Zenji, former Abbot of Eiheiji. Here is it, at the 13:45 mark on the tour ... It says "Sit Watch Clouds Float By" ...

Gassho, J

stlah