"In studying or practicing
Zen,
it is of no help to think about
Zen.
To remain caught up in ideas and
words
about
Zen
is, as the old
masters
say, to 'stink of
Zen'."
...
Alan Watts
This essay,
The Stink Of
Zen,
is the thirty first in an open group
Encounters With A Friend:
Note to
self:
stay
present,
or else
these essays
will stink. They'll stink of
Zen.
Not all of them. But some of them will for sure. That's
the truth.
They'll stink of
Zen
if I don't
intentionally
bring forth and live critical distinctions. Distinctions such as what,
Laurence?
Such as: you can't do
Zen;
you can't have
Zen;
you can't even
writeZen;
authentically, you and I can beZen
- or
(spoken
with
rigor)
you and I can be withZen
(better, I like: you and I can come fromZen).
Actually it's not even "you and I can come from
Zen"
or "you and I can be with
Zen".
It's "you and I can be" ie "you and I are", period.
Remaining caught up in ideas and
words
about
Zen,
costs us the experience of
Zen
ie it costs us our experience of
being.
That's the stink of
Zen.
Zen
is lived. And there's
nothing
special required to live it.
There's nothing to get.
There's nothing to figure
out.
Explain it, be smart about it, profess to understand it ... and pretty
soon it'll stink. There's the
being
of
Zen,
and then there's the talking about it. And
being
it and talking about it, occur in different domains, both of which are
domains over which we
human beings
do have choice. As long as I'm willing to authentically differentiate
between the two (which, by
the way,
is a discipline in and of itself), both can
co-exist. When I don't differentiate between the two, I pay a price -
like the well
lovedmonk
who
plays
a cameo role in various
Zenstories,
behind whom the abbot ie
the master
of the
monastery
quietly draws near, giving a terrific blow to his shoulder -
whack!
- with the flat of his wooden broadsword.
With all that said, if the stink of
Zengoeswith (as
Alan Watts
may have said) remaining caught up in ideas and
words
of
Zen,
is it even
possible
to
speakZen's
ideas into
play
to impart it ie to
share
its profundity, without ruining it? I'm now
clear
it is (the issue is resolved for me) and here's the
incident
which got me
clear
about it.
As I, enrapt,
listenedWerner
presenting a body of his ideas, I wondered if his linguistic
mastery
itself could unintentionally get in
the way
of us relating to him as an ordinary
human being,
given the enormous almost
super-human
role he brings to bear with ideas and
words.
I made a mental note to
ask
him about it sometime.
I got the chance. We were
driving in a car
somewhere. And I reminded him about that presentation. After a brief
moment
of
reflection
(he was recalling the experience and recreating it for himself) he told
me
the way
he is when he's
leading,
is
the way
he has to be if it's going to
work.
He said it with no
significance
or
attachment,
just as
blandly
as if he were telling me he puts on a white shirt, a navy blue sweater,
tan slacks, and brown Ferragamo loafers before he goes out
in the morning.
It was, by any stretch of my
imagination,
a stunning admission. I opened
my mouth
to say something to him about it ... then shut it again quickly, my
mind blown.
I couldn't
believe
it! I had just
listenedWerner Erhard
differentiating between
playing the
role
of
Werner Erhard,
and
being
who
Werner Erhard
really is. Now that's a distinction
worth
making! He didn't need to make it at all. There would have been
nothing
off for me if he hadn't. And I for sure would never have
made it myself (ie not until then). But the fact that he made it at all
(unasked, I might mention)
demonstrated
an
extraordinarilywide-awake,
bone-numbingly honest intellect
at work.
So whither the stink of
Zen?
Zen
stinks when I remain caught up in ideas and
wordsaboutZen.
There's no stink when I'm
being
it,
living
it. It's a critical distinction.