Our Lives Are Hard—And That's Great!
We must see our daily lives as practice during tumultuous times to maintain equanimity.
Quick Note: Welcome to the relaunched Bodaishin! Where the old platform was scheduled for once a week, I aim to have a more active approach while on Substack. I appreciate your time, attention, and selves—as well as your patience—as this move was reflected on and done. With that, for one last time as an opening statement, on to Bodaishin!
Today marks the beginning of Ango for our sangha at Treeleaf. For those unaware of what Ango is, this is how Jundo Cohen explains it:
Ango, 安居 ... literally “peaceful dwelling and abiding” ... is a period of concentrated and committed Zen practice, usually lasting three months in the Soto Zen tradition, often in the summer but in other seasons as well. The roots of Ango arise from the earliest days of the Buddhist monastic community in India, when monks and nuns would cease their wandering and settle together in one place for the rainy season.
Even today in Zen monasteries of Japan, Ango is a time of intense and rigorous training, typically including long hours of Zazen, short hours for sleep, formal meals taken in the Zendo (meditation hall), and a structured schedule for the rest of the day comprising periods for work, liturgy, study, rest, and personal needs. In the West, most Zen groups have adapted the form of the three month practice period to the needs and demands of life in their communities.
The key point to note is “concentrated and committed Zen practice.” In my experiences during Ango, one quickly finds that their lives may have other plans besides our practice commitments and concentrations. Especially with the times the entire world has been in for the past two years—our lives are difficult, exhausting, and straight-up hard. How could anyone find peace in such a state?
Life Is Hard—And That’s Great
The first thing that we need to address is, yes, life is wrought with difficulties. We are human, and there’s no escaping the hard times. Yet there is still an underlying, abundant, peace we can find and live with amongst it all that carries us through our lives with grace. This opportunity, once established, opens the door to using all of our lives as practice: not just the “good” times. As Shohaku Okumura writes:
When we are living in vow, in our emotion, in our human sentiment, there are good times and hard times. Like all people in samsara, we are still in the six realms. And yet, we can find a peaceful basis, a foundation for our life which is never moved by human sentiment. That is vow. That is the reality of our life.
—Shohaku Okumura, Living by Vow
This “reality of our life” should encompass all things. Instead of trying to avoid the hard, the negative, and the bitterness of life, we should choose to embrace and accept those, too:
No matter how wise and insightful any of us may become, the world remains a hard place. That’s okay, Dōgen assures us. We can feel sorrow when we lose our loved ones. We can cry for all the children who are suffering in this world.
—Jundo Cohen, The Zen Master’s Dance
It’s paramount that we are able to open our eyes, heart, hands, and lives to the reality of things as they are. It’s this richness of the experience of life, with all of its ups and downs, that allows us the wonderful opportunity to practice, serve and empathize with others, and save not only ourselves—but everyone walking with us. A life that is anchored by practice will be unencumbered by the up and down movements. It’s that kind of foundation that is priceless—but it needs all of life to mix together to be strong enough to do so.
OK, I Get It, Where Does Practice Come In?
Simple answer: Anywhere and everywhere! Continuing with Living by Vow:
Our practice is the whole of our life, not something special that we do only in the monastery or at a sesshin or retreat. Those are important parts of our practice, but the Buddha taught us to just awaken to the reality of our lives and live on the basis of that reality. We have to live right now, right here, with this body and mind, and in the company of others. The guiding force, the compass that leads us to live out this reality, is the bodhisattva vows.
—Shohaku Okumura, Living by Vow
The whole of our life is our practice. Or as Treeleaf parishioners hear: “All of life is our temple!” For us Zen Buddhists, the compass that Okumura mentions is the bodhisattva vows, which are:
Sentient beings are numberless; I vow to save them.
Desires are inexhaustible; I vow to put an end to them.
The dharmas are boundless; I vow to master them.
The Buddha’s Way is unsurpassable; I vow to attain it.
These vows are both aspirational and a guide for what we can do to “awaken to the reality of our lives.” The first two vows are mindset shifts. The aspiration to help others and to refrain from the desires we experience (of life to be different than what it is, of self-centeredness, of greed hate and ignorance).
The thing to keep in mind is that these vows can never be fully realized; yet, every day, every moment, we have the opportunity to practice with what is in front of our lives. Handling each situation with care, grace, and wisdom—and giving ourselves permission to hit bumps in the road along the way. Looking to what actions we can take to help others and—by extension—ourselves.
This practice can be encapsulated by Zazen. As Kodo Sawaki taught:
Though some people think that Zen practice is difficult, it is simply how we live our daily lives. Which means our attitude toward our lives. Dōgen Zenji calls it the practicing Buddha. We make Zazen our foundation and we practice our whole life with this body—that is the Buddha Way.
—Kodo Sawaki
Zazen, the vows we take, the eightfold path, sangha, all come together in the expression of our daily lives. So even though life gets hard, or troubling, or sometimes crushing—there is an equanimity we can find in practice and acceptance of our lives as it truly is that helps us maintain composure. We find this in our Zazen, but, we also must find this off the cushion as well!
We shouldn’t be averse to difficulties. It is the hard times, the experience and acceptance of life in its fully realized state, that we can find a depth to our practice and spirit we didn’t know we had.
Ango is a good example. It is difficult for most: legs hurt, brains tire, cravings and commitments loom and linger; yet, at the end of the three months, your life is enriched with the lessons, experiences, and practice you committed to. Life is no different. Should we hold ourselves to a standard of practice, dedication, servitude, and equanimity—we’ll find that foundation of peace that’s been available from the beginning.
Compared to the eternal, the absolute, or the infinite, we are all equal to zero. There is something deeply meaningful in our comparison with 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.
—Shohaku Okumura, Living by Vow
hello. i begin my ango in the second week of september.
wonderful edition, friend! grateful to receive and read it. such a necessary and beneficial reminder of practice and its ability to encompass all that we experience. i appreciate and am grateful for you and Bodaishin. ~j