Section A: Practical Zen

Zen Training

In order to train in Zen, the outer form of zazen need not always be the same. As long as the essence is the same as that of zazen, you can do anything. Eastern cultural arts and martial arts all have the same essence as that of zazen. This is what is called samadhi. Although I do not know too much about the West, I am sure that samadhi exists there. If you can attain this samadhi, whatever method you use is good.

At my dojo besides zazen, we do Zen holding a brush or a bamboo sword. In reality, we are holding the brush and writing words, or we are practicing kendo with the bamboo sword. There is, however, the Zen of sewing, the Zen of cutting vegetables, the Zen of keeping accounts, the Zen of typing. It is all right to have all kinds of Zen. That is why I think that sitting in meditation is not an essential condition in Zen.

You may wonder then, “Why do Zen priests do zazen?” It is because in samadhi, there is ji-zanmai (samadhi limited to a particular field of activity) and oo-zanmai (the great samadhi). Ji-zanmai is the samadhi only when you are doing something. For example, you are cutting vegetables, and you forget about cutting and the hand that is cutting. This is ji-zanmai. It can be achieved through your work or in the performing arts.
Oo-zanmai, however, is the fundamental and best samadhi that is universal and can be experienced during zazen. In an instant, the mind, body and breath become one, creating stability and samadhi. This samadhi can be used for anything and under any circumstances.

For example, a person who practices Kendo holds his bamboo sword and faces his opponent. If he forgets his opponent and his ego, enters samadhi, and truly experiences this state, then even when he puts his bamboo sword down, he must be able to maintain this frame of mind. Usually, however, it is a different world when he puts his bamboo sword down. A teacher of flower arrangement must also enter samadhi and become one with the flowers or she will not be able to make an arrangement that will move or touch people. But when she puts the scissors down, she reverts to her ordinary self.
People of ancient times have said the same thing. For instance, there is Suzuki Shozan (1579-1655) who was a samurai to the Tokugawas. Later, he became a Buddhist priest. His words have been left in the book, Roankyo.

This is an extract:

A certain person asked what the state of samadhi was. Shozan unsheathed his sword and held it in the seigan no kamae (the middle position) and said, “Well, do you understand? If you understand this, it is the easiest way for a samurai to achieve samadhi. That is so, but why can’t the samurai understand Zen? Because when they lay their swords down, the state of samadhi is lost.”

That is what he taught. In ji-samadhi you become skilled at becoming one with something, but even if you separate from that thing, you must maintain the state or be able to attain this state instantly. To say it in another way, when you do zazen, you attain samadhi during the thirty minutes to an hour that the incense is burning, but when you stand up, you return to your former state. This is not good.
The person who brought zazen from India to China was Bodhidharma.

In his teaching of zazen, many Indian traces still remain. It is said that the distinctive characteristic of Bodhidharma̓s zazen is hekikan gyoju. Hekikan means to face the wall and to see your true nature. It does not mean that you must always face a tangible wall. Your mind must become like a very steep wall that does not allow anything to approach. That is the state of hekikan. The meaning of gyoju is to concentrate your mind. In order to achieve hekikan gyoju, the monks in India meditated in the cool of the night under the moon and in a refreshing breeze. Sitting on rocks under trees, the monks would concentrate their minds and try to see their true natures.
From India zazen went to China and blended with the active and realistic national character of the Han race. From its original emphasis on serenity, Zen became dynamic. As a result, six generations after Bodhidharma, during Eno’s (Hui-neng).

Time, the foundation of Chinese Zen was established.
Eno defined zazen as, za (sitting) means “outwardly and under all circumstances, not to activate thoughts,” and zen (meditation) is “internally to see the original nature and not become confused.”
That is why zazen does not only mean to sit with your legs folded. Being unaffected by your environment, with your true nature undisturbed, you go, remain still, sit and sleep. Going, remaining still, sitting and sleeping must all be zazen. Eno emphasized that zazen is not something that occurs only when sitting in a prescribed position.
Eno also said, “In this teaching of mine, from ancient times up to the present, all have set up no-thought as the main doctrine, no-form as the substance, and non-abiding as the basis.” The explanation of this is: “No-thought is not to think even when involved in thought. No-form is to be separated from form even when associated with form.” When a thought occurs, leave it alone. Not becoming attached to the thought is no-thought. Even if you see shape or form, you must not hang on to it. If you see its a priori nature correctly, that is no-form. Non-attachment is not attaching to one thing or to one place but to keep flowing smoothly like water. This is the original nature of man.

The main point of Eno’s teaching is to read the characters “kensho” not as to see (ken) your true self (sho) but instead that seeing is your true self. The action of seeing is the True Self. The Buddha-nature equals the action of seeing. That is his view. The teaching of India is that in order to see one’s True Self, one must watch one’s Mind, quietly sitting on a rock under a tree. Eno, however, tells us, “The core of all activities – for example, the activity of seeing, the activity of hearing, the activity of tasting, and so on (the activity of the five senses) – is True Nature. Eno is saying, “Seeing is your True Self.” This is the unique expression of the philosophy of Chinese Zen. What Buddha and Bodhidharma experienced is exactly the same thing. This is the foundation of Chinese Zen. The Zen that has been handed down to Japan is an expression of Zen originally expressed by Eno. This expression underwent various changes. Under the direction of Rinzai (d. 866), it assumed the distinctive form of our Rinzai Zen. It can be said that Rinzai constructed a strong house on the foundation that Eno built.
In Eno’s case, even if the action of seeing or the action of hearing is discussed, and what we call the body and mind are not specially distinguished, there is a tendency to give priority to the mind. Rinzai, however, asserts that it is the body that is “the True Man without Rank”. Having no rank, not belonging to anything, and being free, this is the True Man. Of course, what he is referring to is the complete human being which is endowed with a body. Rinzai clearly stated that the basic principle of the philosophy of Zen is the activity of the mind-body unit, the activity of the true and complete human being that is YOU – the person who is listening to my lecture – the True Man without Rank.

One could say that Rinzai’s view of Zen is extreme, but the process of this development is quite important. Under Gunin (Hung-jen), Chinese Zen separated into north and south. Jinshu̓s (Shen-hsiu) line was named the Hokuzen (northern-gradual) School. Eno’s line was named the Nanton (southern-sudden) School. But with one great push, Rinzai advanced the Zen that Eno started into the domain of the concrete actions of human beings. That became the foundation of Japanese Rinzai Zen.
If we were to express these historical developments succinctly, we would say that the Indian school emphasized the mind, the psychological teachings. Chinese Zen, however, perhaps because of the national characteristics of the Han people, placed the emphasis on the body. The contribution made by Japan when the teachings arrived there was the development of the focus on the complete person, the oneness of mind and body, the real and concrete action, or in other words, Zen-ki (Zen dynamics or activity).

Zazen

As even Suzuki Shozan has said, “Zazen without kiai is a waste of time.” Even if you do one hour of zazen, it is only one twenty-fourth of the day. During that sitting, incense is burned and you sit still without kiai for what is just an instant. That kind of zazen is useless. Everything that you do in your daily life must be zazen. This is the “non-sitting” form of zazen. Shido Bunan Zenji (1603–1676) also stressed this non-sitting zazen. If you really understand this kind of zazen, you have almost accomplished your zazen training.
Zazen does not occur only during the time you cross your legs, fold your hands, regulate your breath, and concentrate on your koan. Walking on the street, reading a book, working in the kitchen, writing a letter, are all zazen. In any situation if you throw your entire self into what you are doing at that time, you will go into samadhi. That is what non-sitting zazen is. If you think that zazen is only meditating at a fixed time in a fixed posture, your zazen will not progress.

It has been customary from ancient times to begin one’s koan training with the koan Mu. In trying to concentrate on Mu, if you buzz like a mosquito and say, “Mu, mu,” from the tip of your nose, you are wasting your time. If you don’t say, “MU!” in one breath as if you are severing your life in hisshi zanmai (life or death samadhi), you will not be able to attain satori.
There is a man named Nakazawa who is a student of mine from the days at my Jikishin Dojo. He accomplished his realization by counting his breaths. When he counted “Hitoo…tsu (Japanese for one),” he entered samadhi. When he said, “Futaaaa…tsu, (two)” he became “Futaaaa…tsu.” In this way, he attained the absolute present and was enlightened. You can become enlightened splendidly merely by counting breaths. It is better to do it that way rather than to say “Mu” only with the tip of your nose.
When you are doing zazen, you must exhale thoroughly. If you do that seriously and with all your being, anyone can realize their True Self.

Zenjyo – the Kiai of Zazen

When Suzuki Shozan was asked what the kiai of samadhi was, he unsheathed his long sword, took a Kendo stance, and said, “It is this. You must not lose this kiai.” “Not losing this kiai does not mean being ceremonious and pretentious, nor does it mean being physically unyielding. Hakuin Zenji said that to maintain the correct consciousness does not mean that we should become like the string holding the beads of the juzu (Buddhist rosary), rather we must become the beads.
This is an important point. We must put our entire being into each thing that we are doing. When we are writing, we must throw our bodies and minds into each letter and enter samadhi. When we are doing zazen, we must become zazen and be in samadhi moment by moment. In this way, although we are tense and strained when we start to train, later we will gradually become soft and pliant. When we become soft and refined, our inner being becomes full of vital energy. This is real perfection.
To reach this condition, we must regulate our breath. Regulating the breath is not losing kiryoku (vital energy) of the tanden. It is said that the tanden is so many inches from the navel, but it is not located in any fixed place.

Everyone is different; therefore, we cannot say that the tanden is located two inches below the navel. The tanden is the centre point which balances the entire body. It is not one definite point on the body. Each person must find it for herself or himself. When we breath out, we must use the lower abdomen. When we inhale, we loosen our muscles, and new air will fill our lungs. If we do this, oxygen will unite with red blood cells and circulate through the whole body. This becomes the basis for kiryoku. As we breath out all the air we can, all strength will leave the shoulders and the strength of the tanden will soften the abdomen and make the energy sink to the tanden.

When we can breathe out no more and relax our muscles, in an instant air will fill the lungs. Then we breathe out again. Like the piston of a bellows heating up coal, this heats up the energy in our bodies. Our lower back will be naturally upright, and our spine will straighten. We will stand correctly because the kiryoku within us becomes complete. Fatigue is overcome, and we become revitalized. This is a definite way to regulate and perfect kiryoku.
In this way we are able to walk on the Way with little effort. We do not have to act superior. We need not be ashamed wherever we go even before God or the Buddha. We are not ashamed of any part of ourselves.
By breathing in the manner mentioned above, we cultivate our kiryoku. Furthermore, by our actions we make moral kiryoku flourish also. Our minds and bodies will be full of vigour. To perfect kiryoku does not mean to throw out our chests, it means to be composed and dignified. We must have an awe-inspiring kiryoku which is disturbed by nothing.
This is what is called zazen. This is what is called Nio Zen.

Koan and Realization in Zen

Basically, the word “koan” refers to the instances in which ancient Zen masters were enlightened by some word or action. Originally it came from Kofu no Antoku which was an official edict of ancient China that absolutely had to be obeyed once it had been proclaimed. In Zen the term koan refers to cases which contain principles that a student of Zen has to realize absolutely.
In the beginning of Zen in China the teacher did not give the student a specific question to work on. Each student tackled a problem himself and looked to his teacher to guide him in solving it. For example, take the incident between Bodhidharma and Eka9 who later carried on Bodhidharma̓s line in China:

[Eka said,] “Your disciple’s mind is not yet pacified. I beg you, my teacher, please pacify my mind.”
Bodhidharma said, “Bring the mind to me, and I will pacify it.”
Eka said, “I have searched for the mind these many years and am still unable to get hold of it.”
Bodhidharma said, “There! It is pacified once and for all.”

During the period after Eka and before the systematization of Koan Zen in the 9th century, the following story illustrates the nature of the dialogues between master and student.
When Nangaku Ejo (Nan-yueh Hai-jang) went to see the 6th patriarch Eno, Eno faced him and said,

“Where did you come from?”
Nangaku answered, “I came from Mt. Tung-shan.”
Eno responded, “What walked here?”

Nangaku Ejo could not say that his feet did the walking, nor could he say that his body had walked there. All he could do was to try to enlighten himself by concentrating on “what had walked there.” This is form that the koan took in the beginning. As Zen masters repeatedly gave such problems to students to work on, the koans gradually became systematized.
Usually, you kufu (to strive or wrestle with, to try to find the way out) a koan through zazen, but you can also concentrate on the koan while you are doing something else:: What is this that is now working? Who is this that is drinking tea? Who is this that is talking? If you are always searching in this way, you have achieved a way of training.

Over time questions, such as “What is Buddha? What is the meaning of Bodhidharma coming from India?” which spontaneously arose were systematized into a fixed format from the latter part of the Tang dynasty in the last half of the 9th century till the Sung dynasty in the 13th century. But it was not until works such as the Hekigan Roku were published that the system that we know today became established. This work is divided into one hundred cases, and about one hundred forty personages appear in them. Master Engo Kokugon (Yuan-wu Ko-ch̓in) commented on the main point of each case.
During the Sung Dynasty Master Daie Soko (Ta-hui Tsung-kao) encountered the following problem. He thought, “These days the students doing sanzen (private interview with the master in which the student presents his “answer” to the koan) say things that are too good. For beginners, they do too well. Perhaps they have a text.” He discovered that students had memorized the Hekigan Roku word for word and were using it in their answers. Master Daie said that this would not help them, and it is said that he collected all the Hekigan Roku and burned the books.

In the present day koan system, a first koan we almost always give to the beginner is, “Does a dog have Buddha nature?” This is the koan of Master Joshu (Chao-chou) who lived during the Tang dynasty in China. He explained Zen in everyday terms. In the history of Zen, I think he was one of the greatest masters. A priest asked Joshu, “Does a dog have Buddha nature?” Joshu said, “Mu.” That became a koan. What exactly is this Mu?
This is the first koan in the Mumonkan. The editor of this book, Mumon Ekai (Wu-men Hui-k̓ai),gave some advice on how to kufu this koan:

Don’t you want to pass the barrier? Then throw yourself into understanding this “Mu,” with your 360 bones and 84,000 pores, making your whole body one great inquiry. Day and night work intently at it. Do not attempt nihilistic or dualistic interpretations. The search for an answer is like having swallowed a red-hot iron ball. You try to vomit it but cannot.
Cast away your illusory knowledge and discrimination accumulated up to now, and keep working harder. After a while, when your efforts come to fruition, all the oppositions (such as in and out) will naturally be identified. You will then be like a dumb person who has had a wonderful dream: he only knows it personally, within himself. Suddenly you break through the barrier; you will astonish heaven and shake the earth.

In short, Master Mumon is teaching us to question where our mind works and to look for the source by ourselves. Where does this Mu come from? We must concentrate completely on Mu. Not only must we become one with Mu, we must transcend it. How do we achieve this?
Mumon uses the expression, “360 bones and 84,000 pores,” which, during his time, meant the entire human body. In other words, he explains that we must become Mu by using our whole body and all our energy. We must concentrate everything on Mu.

If you do that, you will be able to experience the same samadhi as the Buddha did after he abandoned his severe physical training and did zazen. Shakyamuni thought that inflicting severe pain on the body would free the spirit. In the end he realized that the mind and body were one. He realized that he could not be liberated by punishing his body. He abandoned harsh physical training, went to the foot of the Himalayas, and did zazen. He was constantly in the state of “Absolute Mu.” At sunrise he saw the morning star and realized, “It is not that there is nothing. There is this form here that I call myself looking at the morning star. Moreover, this form is not only a simple ‘self̓; it is a point that is the centre of an infinite circle; it is the centre of the entire Universe.” When you are in absolute samadhi and a stimulus breaks this state, suddenly such a realization will occur. That is enlightenment.
Though this koan Mu had been used since ancient times, about 250 years ago Hakuin Zenji felt that it should not become over used and began to use the koan, “What is the sound of one hand clapping?” This koan became very popular because it creates doubt easily.

If you hit both hands together, a sound will be produced. But what is the sound of one hand clapping? It is what we must call the absolute sound. This sound must be uncovered. Then you will realize the Original Nature, the eternal life which is not merely the life before you were born but the perpetual life that exists before the birth of your parents. We call it the True Self.
The first question that comes to mind in relation to Hakuin’s koan is “Does one hand make a sound?” The next question is “What could it be?” It is said that the method of solving a koan is to become a mass of doubt. This absolute query is, at the same time, the absolute solution. To put it another way, when the doubter and the koan are in opposition, the two do not become a single mass of doubt. Instead of making the koan an object and examining it analytically, we must concentrate on becoming one with it. In other words, the person who is doubting and the object of the doubt unite and become one mass of doubt. Becoming the mass of doubt is the way of solving the koan, and breaking through this mass of doubt is enlightenment.
The Zen method is to totally negate all accepted facts and dualities and then to re-affirm them. Sanzen is indispensable for training with koan. In this method the Zen master who has already passed through the koan and the more experienced senior students lead the less experienced junior students. But rather than giving hints, when presented with an answer, the Zen master must thoroughly negate it, saying that everything is wrong, and must drive the student into the realm of Absolute Mu.

The student must be trapped like a mouse that has gone into a bamboo cylinder – he cannot advance forward because of the bamboo joint, yet he cannot go back. The Zen master’s job is to push his student into that kind of state. With his usual dualistic thinking driven into a corner, the student will be transformed and led to the realm of absolute freedom.
In the monastery, everything is well thought out. During sanzen, the jikijitsu (head monk) pulls out the beginners who are sitting in the zazen hall. He forces them to go to see their teacher in sanzen. The Zen master and the head monk work together to drive the student into a corner. For example, there was a Zen master named Mamiya Eiju. When he was a monk at Tenryu-ji, in sanzen Master Gassan hit him with his shippei (stick carried by the master). When he went back to the meditation hall, the head monk scolded him, “What are you doing! Go back again!” In the end, unable to tolerate it any longer, Mamiya retreated to the bathroom. It is said that he hid there (meditating – query?) for one whole night. This kind of earnest person quickly reaches his limit.
If one is not serious and does not reach one’s limit, the experience will be late and shallow. Whether asleep or awake, we must kufu our koan without pause and become a mass of doubt. Then because of some stimulus, we are able to break through that state and we have a realization. That is what enlightenment is.

How to Work on the Koan

Omori Roshi was once asked about a method for solving koan, “Roshi, in the first chapter of the Mumonkan, it is written, ‘Twenty-four hours a day, you must always kufu Mu and try to find an answer.̓ But some people say, ‘Put all of your energy into what you are doing at the moment.̓ Which is the right way?”
Roshi replied, “When you are working on your first koan, just as it is written in the Mumonkan, you should kufu this koan twenty-four hours a day whether you are awake or asleep. As you gradually advance in your koan training, however, you should put all of your energy into what you are doing at the moment. Concentrate on your koan when you are doing zazen. But for a lay person who has a job, even if it is his first koan, it is different from a monk whose sole job is to meditate. When the lay person is working, he should put everything into working. If he has even a moment of spare time, then, he should return to his koan. However, during a sesshin, it would be ideal if one could be in the state of koan samadhi while searching for an answer to the koan.
When Shido Bunan Zenji received his koan, “From the beginning nothing exists,” from Gudo Toshoku Zenji, he was always seeking the answer. One day when he was making a rope, he became absorbed in his koan. He forgot the hand that was twisting the rope and could not twist anymore. Gudo Zenji was watching on the side and said to those who were near him, “If you can concentrate this much on your koan, there is no doubt that you can have a realization.” That is how to get an answer to your first koan.

How to Read the Sutra

When I was a youth, I once went to Lake Towada in Akita Prefecture. Close to this lake are the ruins of the place where a priest named Nansobo had trained. According to the guides explanation, Nansobo wore iron geta (Japanese sandals) and travelled all over Japan. He decided that the place where the cloth thongs of his geta broke would be where he would train for the rest of his life. When he got to Lake Towada, the thongs suddenly broke and so he resolved to remain there. A huge snake that had been living there before him refused to let him take his home away, and they began battling. Suddenly Nansobo began to recite the Lotus Sutra. Each word of the Lotus Sutra became an arrow and pierced the body of the snake. Bleeding and writhing, the snake slithered away.
Whether true or not, the story relates that when Nansobo recited the sutra, each word became a piercing arrow. I think that this is a wonderful way to read the sutra. If you cannot do it that way, you cannot say that you read the sutra. The meaning of the sutra does not matter. If you want to study the sutra, you should put the sutra on a desk in a quiet place and leisurely read it while savouring it. Then you will interpret the words and be able to understand the meaning. That is the scholarly way of reading it.

Do not concern yourself with that. If you are going to read the sutra for your training, you must read the sutra like Nansobo and make each word a piercing arrow. If we were to express this in Zen terminology, we would say, “Tekisui Tekito” (Each drop of water, each drop of ice). If you don’t read the sutra as if you have become each drop (i.e., without becoming each word moment by moment), the sutra will not have any effect. Straighten your back, push your energy down to the tanden, and with your eyes fixed, read the sutra. Read as much as you can in one breath. Mind and body becoming one, you enter samadhi. It is possible to be liberated by reading a sutra.
If you are merely reading it with the tip of your nose, even if you say, “Makahanya…,” it will be useless. It is easy for us to concentrate our attention while reading aloud. When you are reading with many people, you must read as though your neighbour’s voice is going into your ears and out of your mouth. If you don’t do that, the recitation will be scattered and not unified.
Keep your breath long and breathe out as long as you can. Then it will be easy to collect your energy. If you cannot get your energy together and the sutra is short, then do it over and over again.
If you read the sutra in this way, you can experience mind and body as ichinyo (Oneness: one and separate at the same time). You do not have to read aloud. In fact, it is more difficult to read the sutra silently than aloud. It is easier to unify mind and body by reading aloud. To unify the mind and body by reading silently requires training in daily life. In this way, you can cultivate the ability to enter samadhi. The body will automatically become erect.

I have this anecdote about the sutra. After the war I became a priest and went to the home of the Toyama’s to recite the sutra on the anniversary of Ryusuke Sensei’s death. A person wearing baggy work pants entered the room through the garden. He placed a huge book of sutra on the small table in front of the Buddhist altar. He recited a sutra in a very deep voice that was like billowy clouds arising from the bottom of a very deep cavern. In the middle of the recitation, there were sometimes pauses which were quite long. I think that he was probably in samadhi. In a little while, he would start to recite again in the same voice. Sitting in the back, I was totally astonished. I was too embarrassed to read the sutra after such a recitation and went home after I had offered incense without reading the sutra.
This man was Hamachi Hachiro, a lawyer and the father of Toyama Ryusuke’s wife. He was a believer of the Diamond Sutra and had been enlightened through this sutra. Having done sanzen in the Soto sect, he had received the name, Layman Tensho. (Once when he was critically ill and unconscious, he continued to chant the sutra. It was so engrained in him).

Continuation of Correct and True Consciousness

According to Hakuin Zenji, “Shonen Sozoku” (Maintaining awareness of the underlying true consciousness) is not like the thread that holds the rosary beads together but is like the beads themselves. He is saying that consciousness must become each one of the beads. If moment by moment we are completely concentrated in the present, our consciousness will be incontinuously continuous, and we will be able to go right through. Hakuin’s words are those of a person who has had a personal experience. If a person who has not had such an experience says “Shonen Sozoku,” he will think that it means to continue to possess right thought. That is impossible. Rather it means to become what you are doing at the moment. When we practise Hitsuzendo (attaining the way through a brush) with what kind of feeling do we write a line? The line is a continuum of separate dots, that is, of the incontinuous. We are not merely writing a line; we are putting our entire life into each dot, each unconnected dot drawn together to form a line. In other words, we are practising “Shonen Sozoku” with a brush. Being attentive to everything, we strike each dot completely. We write with the feeling that each dot continues and forms a line. We are not merely drawing a line.

At the moment when we perfectly experience the Absolute Now in our daily lives, the incontinuous continues. For the first time, all our activities come alive. For example, even entertainers must have this. Even before the curtain rises and he makes his entrance, an actor in a play must already BE his part. He does not suddenly become his part when the curtain rises. Even when he leaves the stage and goes from the wings to his dressing room, he must maintain the same presence as he did on stage. If he does not do this, his presence will not linger on the stage. But if he does not relax and goes to the dressing room with the same feeling that he had while he was on stage, that atmosphere will continue on the stage. The feeling will linger with the audience. That kind of mental phenomenon exists. Zeami (founder of the Noh theatre) calls this “the Doing-Nothing-Time” in his book the Flower Mirror. If you are not careful about this “Doing-Nothing-Time,” the before and after of one’s acting will not come alive.
If you only feel fulfilled when you are doing something, what will happen at other times? It means that during the 24 hours of each day, you are only really alive for two or three hours when you throw yourself into activity. On the other hand, if you feel fulfilled even if you are not doing anything, you will be fulfilled all the time. That is the training that we do during Hitsuzendo. (Explain how hitsuzendo is not doing anything?) (Is this a query for the readers?) In that way, we draw each dot completely. Those dots continue discontinuously and form a line. That is our training; it is a way of life.

How to Train While Engaging in Work

Studying oneself is one’s great work in life. But if someone really accepts this, it creates a basic problem: that is, he should quit his job, and just as Buddha and other well-known ancient priests have done, train himself intently. It is also what I should have done, but since I had no intention of doing so, I had to train while engaged in working for my living. At the present time most of the people who have devoted themselves to Zen training, are people who are working in society. In that case, they should make time to sit in the morning and evening. They should go to Zen groups where they will be encouraged to try harder or broaden their spiritual knowledge. I think that these are the normal means available to lay people.
While I was a lay person, I was told that I should meditate for four hours a day. Because of the nature of my job, I had more free time, but I also had my students to take care of and my wife and children to support. It was therefore almost impossible to devote four hours a day to meditation. Though I tried my best, I could only manage three hours a day. For those who have their own business, even three hours must be difficult.

I think that for those who are busy with many activities, it is necessary even for their health to get up a little earlier and to go to sleep a little later and do thirty minutes of zazen morning and evening. I must say that those who cannot sit even for thirty minutes morning and evening do not have the desire to do zazen. Those who do have a serious desire will abandon everything and earnestly sit for two hours a day. In addition, utilizing even short intervals—while driving a car or riding in a train, while walking, or while waiting for someone—they will regulate their breathing, put their strength into their tanden, tighten their anus, and concentrate on their koan. Those who do this will develop great strength.
When you work, you must throw your entire mind and body into your work. Dogen Zenji said, “Throw your entire mind and body into Buddha’s house.” You must throw your body and mind into your work. When you deal with another person, you must become one with that person. When you read a book, you must go into the book. That is what it means. You must become one with whatever you are doing. In the monastery, there is samu (training with work): cultivating the vegetable garden, cleaning the garden, and so on. By (throwing yourself entirely into samu and) entering samadhi, you can lose yourself and conquer delusion.

Think of your work as samu, there is no other way to train but to work intently and enter working samadhi completely. Usually, people think that sitting is munen muso (no thought) or entering kuku jaku jaku (the state of quiet emptiness) and it is in this way they can feel peaceful. They think that zazen is the easy way to enter the Dharma Gate, but they are making a big mistake. Suzuki Shozan has said, “If you are going to do zazen with no kiai, it would be far better to sing utai (a Noh drama text) with vigour.” Further, Hakuin Zenji has said, “If it is the kind of zazen in which you say, “Munen muso,” and enter kuku jaku jaku and feel good, it would be better to gamble with all your might.”
In this way concentrating on your work with a courageous mind is called “working zazen.” There is, however, one thing which you must not forget. If one of these three things—great faith, great doubt, or great determination—is missing, you cannot complete your training. Great faith is unwaveringly to have the conviction that from the beginning we are Buddha. Great doubt is your mind and body becoming a mass of doubt; your entire body and spirit becomes the koan or the counting. Great determination is the resolution, “Damn it! I will (underline ‘will̓?) see this to the end!” You must possess all three. Not one may be missing. If you possess all three, no matter how you train, you will be able to achieve a great and total enlightenment and be able to accomplish the Dharma.

Satori

If you think that giving the answer to a koan is satori (enlightenment), you are very much mistaken. The answer to a koan is not difficult. If you have a little intelligence, you can give many answers. If that is what you call satori, you don’t have to undergo painful training. To train with all your might and with suffering is to physically experience absolute emptiness. One must train fervently and intently. Satori is to know your True Self. Truly knowing yourself and realizing it, you will have to show it in every action. Then the training that you do after satori will be carried out thoroughly. It takes a long time to get there.
Zen is not merely entering zazen samadhi and sitting like a frog. In the end, it is what is called jyoe enmyo. Jyo is the samadhi that emerges from e, prajna-wisdom transcendental, intuitive wisdom). The development of prajna-wisdom is the goal of Zen. Enmyo means that samadhi and prajna-wisdom are not different. If you develop prajna-wisdom, you will be able to see things correctly. What is called shoken (correct and true seeing) will emerge. Even in the Rinzai Roku, shinsho no kenge (correct and true seeing) is frequently stressed.
The attainment of this correct and true seeing is the objective of Zen. With this insight, we will be able to make decisions and choices. Without it, it is easy to confuse the correct and incorrect. Especially during these turbulent times, we must be able to see clearly what is happening in our civilization. That is our duty.

Training after Realization

In Zen there is a koan called Hokyo Zammai (Samadhi as a Reflection from the Precious Mirror). It is a koan of a very high degree. A mirror reflects objects. If an object appears, it reflects it. We must become like a mirror. That is Hokyo Zammai. When I passed this koan, the Zen master guided me for three years how to use this in my daily life training. In this way, I was able to experience in practical situations the Buddhist doctrine I had understood through koan training.
There is a koan called “sho hen ego zanmai,” sho becomes hen and hen becomes sho. Sho is sameness, and hen is the aspect of difference. Sho and hen alternating freely is the state of sho hen ego zanmai, the blending of sameness and difference. It is not enough to just understand this theoretically. It is said that one must train and experience it for three years. If you train in it for three years, when you meet something, you will just naturally reflect it. In order to know that what is reflected is in reality yourself, you must train in your daily life. If you do this, you will experience first-hand that all things are one. I think that is what is called “training after realization.”

Even if you know sho and hen in theory, your knowledge will be abstract and useless. But if you train in daily life, even if you cannot attain it completely, you will be able to come close. Here we can say that Buddhist wisdom becomes Buddhist compassion or, alternatively, that from this wisdom, compassion arises. It is through action in daily life that the oneness of wisdom-compassion can be realized. If this cannot be done, universal compassion will not spontaneously come forth.
If you have had a realization, you should make a one hundred eighty-degree change in your life. Even after realization, however, life itself is the continuation of one’s training. The theories that you have realized through realization must influence your daily life and your character. Striving to do this kind of after realization training is the principle of training in the Ways.

How to Train

There are two ways to train. One is to train through studying the theories of Buddhist doctrine. This is called “Entrance by Reason.” The other way is to actually experience these theories which is “Entrance by Conduct.”
Entering by Reason, one realizes that all existence is like a dream, like an illusion, like foam, like dew, or like thunder. Existence has no concrete form. In Buddhism, we speak of the Void and Emptiness, but that is not to say that there is nothing. In Buddhism, all things that exist are living by cause and condition. This is the causal standpoint that is taken.
Buddha renounced the world in which he lived at the age of 29, and at 35 he attained enlightenment. He realized his True Self. From ancient times it is said that in the Garland Sutra, for the first time, he related the substance of his experience to his five friends who had previously forsaken him. The Garland Sutra explains existence from the standpoint of the passage of time. From the spatial standpoint the doctrine of reality of the Tendai Sect explains the substance of this existence. Where the doctrine of cause and condition of the Garland Sutra coincides with the doctrine of reality of the Tendai Sect and where the attribute of time merges with the attribute of space is where all existence is. If you clearly understand this theory of Buddhist philosophy, it is called Entrance by Reason.

In this world nothing remains static even for a second – everything is subject to change. For example, even the floor and the walls are not fixed bodies. If there is such a thing as a fixed, unchanging body, why do things get old? Why do they gradually go bad? It is because all things possess an element of time.
Existence changes. If you leave something alone and it gets old, that means that it is subject to time, that it has no static substance. That is what we call Void or Emptiness. If you think that this means that nothing is there or that there is only emptiness in the relative sense, then that would be contrary to what the Buddha realized. There are, however, many who train in Zen who think that the Void or Emptiness means nothingness. That is proof that they have not done any studying. Approaching Zen without having studied Buddhist theory, even a little, how can you become enlightened just by sitting like a toad?
Of course, that would be absurd. There is no Buddhist law that is not supported by Buddhist theory. That is why entering by Reason is essential. As I said before, this means realizing that nothing that exists is stable.. Everything is always flowing and changing.
Entrance by Conduct means to apply and experience Buddhist theory in daily life. How do we do it? Our mind and body are the “mother body” that gives rise to 84,000 (infinite) earthly desires. Denouncing that body, we must pull out the 84,000 earthly desires one by one. That is what is called entering by Conduct.

After doing zazen and becoming enlightened, even though you have finished your formal training, there is still further training. It is not correct to think that because you have been enlightened, everything is fine. After becoming enlightened and now understanding the Buddhist theory, this is when your true training begins. It is said that you must train for your whole life.
Training cannot even be accomplished in one lifetime. One must train from rebirth to rebirth. Yamaoka Tesshu (1836-1888), a great swordsman, calligrapher, statesman, and Zen master, copied the sutras every evening. His younger brother said to him, “Even though you copy the sutras as you do, you will not be able to copy all of them in one lifetime, will you?”
Tesshu answered, “But I will continue to copy them. First I will write them all in the printed style. When that is finished, I will write them in the cursive style. When that is finished, I will write in the more flowing cursive style. I will be reborn many times into this human form to do it.” Tesshu is saying that it does not matter if such a thing can be done. No matter what, it will be done. That was Tesshu’s aspiration for his training.
That is what training is all about. Just having done a little zazen and thinking that you have trained will not amount to anything. After training, realizing your True Self, and completing all the koan, then your true training begins. Unless you do this, you will not know what training really is. Even though I had finished all the koan of the Tekisui school and had received inka (formal approval of realisation) it was not until I was told that I had graduated from Zen, that I truly began to understand what training was. Because I had completed the course on koan, I was able to understand the koan system and get a view of the training from ‘above̓. For the first time I realized what training was. From that point on, my real training began. That is what is called Entrance by Conduct. That is the training that continues from rebirth to rebirth to rebirth.

Section B: The World of the Absolute Present

Sanboin – The Three Truths of the Dharma

From ancient times it has been said that in Buddhism there are 84,000 doctrines. To reveal their secrets or summarise so many doctrines with one remark is impossible.
Even in Zen, the masters say there are more than 1700 koans we must pass through to realize the True Self.

Shakyamuni Buddha, the founder of Buddhism, however, when asked,

“What is the Dharma principle?,” replied “For 49 years I did not say a thing,” and turned away.

On the other hand, as if giving Maha Kasho the secret of Buddhism, Shakyamuni held up a flower and said,

“I have the all-pervading True Dharma, incomparable Nirvana, exquisite teaching of formless form.
It does not rely on letters and is transmitted outside scriptures. I now hand it to Maha Kasho.”

It has been said of Shakyamuni that by making such contradictory statements he was being misleading, but indeed there is no other way to make people understand the Dharma principle. For 49 years exhausting all explanations, using many tens of thousands of words, Shakyamuni could not explain the Dharma principle. On the other hand, even one word is not necessary to explain the Dharma principle. The Dharma principle has two faces:

(1) No matter how many words one uses, one cannot explain the principle.
(2) No words are needed in explanation.

It is like drinking water. The person who drinks knows whether it is hot or cold. Unless a person realizes the Dharma principle through his own training, it has no meaning. At the same time from another perspective, it is also true that a provisional explanation of the Dharma principle may have the power to persuade others of its importance and reality.. For this reason, in India, the logic of Buddhism was developed. If not saying a thing is true, then the 84,000 doctrines are also true. How shall we explain the Dharma principle even provisionally?

Without exception the things of this world can be divided into space and time. In the final analysis, the essence of a thing can be clarified from the perspective of time, looking at the stages of development, or from the perspective of space, looking at the reason for something being where it is. For example, through understanding the occurrence, change and development of a phenomenon as progression in time, we can understand why phenomena exist as they are. On the other hand, from the perspective of space, we can analyse things into their elements, reconstitute them, and scientifically investigate their nature. Looking at phenomenon through time is engiron, the doctrine of dependent origination (cause and conditions), and the latter is jissoron, the doctrine of the real state of all things.

In the actual world the temporal and spatial aspects of tangible objects cannot be separated. The relation between time and space is like that between water and waves. Time and space, like appearance and substance, are one thing. If we try to understand a phenomenon intellectually or theoretically, however, there is no way to do this other than through the two perspectives described earlier. What is called knowledge is originally based on the conclusion that there is time and space.
From this relative perspective, understanding the doctrines of Buddhism in terms of time is the first of the three truths: All phenomenal things are impermanent. To grasp the doctrines of Buddhism in terms of space is the second truth: Phenomenal things exist only as conditions; they have no substance in themselves. The third truth is: Nirvana is the state of ultimate tranquillity. These three are the sanboin, the three truths of Buddhism. The three truths are definite and unchanging. They are the absolute truths of Buddhism. I think that any teachings that differ from this are heresy. The three truths are the standard which separate Buddhism from other teachings.

To understand being in terms of time is to see occurrence, change, and development (engiron). To see being in terms of space is to see the real state of all things (jissoron). But as I have said before, like water and waves, or substance and appearance, time and space cannot be considered as separate. For a moment, however, let us separate the two: We have the Hosso Sect (the Consciousness-only School), which follows Vasubandhu’s teaching and stands on the principle of engiron. Vasubandhu’s commentaries on the Avatamsaka Sutra were translated into Chinese. Based on them the Juji School was established. From this school the Kegon School (Chi Hua-yen) emerged. Accordingly, the principle of the Kegon is engiron.

In contrast the Sanron Sect follows Nagarjuna’s teaching and is founded on the principle of jissoron. Historically in China the philosophy of the Tendai Sect has a very deep connection with the Sanron Sect and belongs to the jissoron category. Emon (Hui-wen), the monk who lived in the Northern and Southern Dynasty (420–589), was a famous scholar of the Sanron Sect (Chin. San-lun-tsung) and established the basis of the Tendai Sect (Chin. T̓ien-t̓ai). These, however, are just temporary separations and cannot be maintained in the strict, scholarly sense. Both these doctrines (engiron and jissoron) are like two strands intertwined to make a single rope.

If we overemphasize the temporal perspective of engi, we lean towards differentiation. If we overemphasize the spatial perspective, we lean towards non-differentiation, the equality of all things. At the meeting of time and space, at that point there is the absolute present, the Middle Way, the tranquility of Nirvana. The three truths are to be understood three dimensionally. [Time is like a vertical axis, space a horizontal axis and at the intersection of the two is Nirvana, but on a higher, third dimension].

Shogyo Mujo – All Things are Impermanent

This is the first truth. Gyo refers to the Sanskrit term for samsara, meaning all things. At the same time gyo means adhva-samsara, or always changing. The first truth indicates that there is nothing which remains constant; everything is flowing and changing. Nothing is absolutely fixed.
Ordinarily we think that the world we come into contact with is a fixed reality. The world, however, is like the water of a river always flowing, never stopping for a moment. The ancient Greek philosopher Heraclitus said, “Everything changes.” Everything has time in it, therefore everything changes.

Time is not something which exists independent of things; it is within things themselves. For example, if there is a pen here, it will gradually get older and be worn away. In the end it cannot be used. In Buddhism there are four kalpas, jo (creation), ju (existence), e (destruction), and ku (annihilation). Everything goes through this process of four stages because everything has within it time. Truly we can say that because everything flows and changes, everything has life. For example, if a single grain of rice or a small piece of meat were to be fixed and unchanging, then human life could not continue even for a day. The rice grain becomes cooked rice; it is digested and becomes liquid. The nutrients are then absorbed into and nourish the body. This is because the rice grain is not fixed but changing.

What causes this flowing and changing? In Buddhist terminology, it is said this world is hokai (the realm of reality). In this case ho means the law of cause and conditions. Cause becomes effect; effect becomes cause. [Depending on conditions, different effects emerge. For example, a seed kept in a drawer will not germinate, but when planted and given water and fertilizer, it will bloom. In the final analysis, cause, conditions, and effects are one]. Reality changing according to the law of cause and conditions is hokkai. This is what Shakyamuni Buddha referred to when he said, “He who sees engi (cause and conditions) clearly sees the Dharma.” The law of cause and conditions means that beings are created and destroyed in accordance with cause and conditions. Nothing in this world exists by itself. Everything is interdependent. If you view this world from the perspective of time, everything changes continuously depending on cause and conditions. People commonly mistake the theory of Buddhism as cause and effect, but the theory of Buddhism is based on cause and conditions.

Let us imagine that we have a radish seed. In this seed is the cause for a big, two-foot-long radish root. The theory of cause-and-effect ties cause and effect directly together and concludes that this seed will inevitably become a two-foot-long radish. In Buddhism this is not so. We recognize that the seed has the potential to become a radish, but the seed must be planted in the field, given fertilizer, water, and sunlight. In addition, the field must be weeded. Under these conditions, the radish, which is the effect, will grow. Depending on the conditions, however, a big, long radish or an inedible radish may result. The effect is something uncertain and depends on conditions.

Everything is subject to cause, conditions, and effect; limitless differentiations are born from the movement of cause and conditions. In the Agama Sutra it is said, “All things appear and disappear because of the concurrence of causes and conditions. Nothing ever exists entirely alone; everything exists in relation to everything else.” This sutra illustrates the mutual interdependence of everything.
In the theory of cause and conditions, there are four phases: gokan-engi, arayashiki-engi, shinnyo-engi, and hokkai-engi.
Hokkai-engi is the final theory. This is also called mujin-engi (unlimited cause and conditions). This theory unifies appearance and cause and conditions. The important aspects are: All things are the appearance of truth and there is nothing which is separate from the essence of the Tathagata (the Truth, Suchness). Therefore, everything is absolute. Even a speck of dust is the appearance of Truth. If everything is absolute, there is nothing else except it. In other words, each and every thing simultaneously includes all other things, like the knots in a net.

All the knots are connected with each other. If you pick up a single knot, you pick up the whole net. This relation is called “Tai mo ju ju” (referring to the jewels fastened to the net hanging in Sakra’s place which reflect one another endlessly) and “shu ban mu jin” (subject-object are inexhaustible).
In other words, the universe is likened to a net of glittering gems, in which each jewel and its reflection exists in all other gems. There is an interplay of reflections into infinity. In this way a single entity, in contrast to others, becomes the subject, and others become the object. Then when the object becomes the subject; the subject becomes the object. This interplay between subject and object proceeds endlessly. This is called hokkai-engi.

Therefore, the temporal relation of cause and conditions leads to the mutual interdependence of differentiated things, which is the spatial relation of cause and effect. In this sense even a particle which cannot be seen with the eye is absolute. This particle contains the entire universe. The entire universe is an object to the particle and is contained within it. This manner of identification (the waves are the water and the water is the waves) and mutual interpenetration (rays of light enter into one another without hindrance) between things is called jijimuge. Jijimuge means all things and events in the Universe interpenetrate freely without obstruction.
In the final analysis each thing contains everything, and each thing is absolute. Simultaneously each thing is brought into existence by every other thing. This kind of cause and conditions relationship is hokkai-engi. This is the highest principle in the theory of cause and conditions.

If we pursue the principle that all things are impermanent and all things flow and change, the temporal principle becomes a spatial principle. At this point, naturally we have come to the question, “What is the spatial principle?” We must pursue the reality of things in a spatial sense and analyse the second truth, Shoho muga, the principle that phenomenal things are in existence only by conditions; they have no substance in themselves.

Shoho Muga – Having no Substance in Themselves, all Things Exist only by Conditions

Zen stands on the concrete reality before your eyes. Even so, most people feel that Zen is empty theory quite separate from concrete reality. This is proof that most people look at life upside down. In reality everything flows, but people think nothing moves. Everything changes, but people think things are permanent. The primary reason for delusions and illusions is the ego [which sees things as existing in themselves]. We want to believe that behind the phenomena we see with our eyes, lies an eternal substance. We are looking for some actual being, some original substance, a god, or Buddha which controls the Universe.
As this sort of inquiry progresses, what we looked for initially outside ourselves, we begin to look for inside ourselves. The result is to think that our original substance is the ego. Because of this, we believe there is an eternal, unchanging, actual being behind the natural universe, and similarly we believe that inside ourselves, there is a solidified, unchanging form which is our centre. This we might call the ego.
According to the Upanishadic philosophy, the ego is Jo Itsu Shussai. Jo means always present and never changing. Itsu means absolutely one. Shussai means mastery of all things. The phrase refers to the actual being or existence which masters all things and is always present and unchanging. This being we call the ego.

Usually we make the ego the centre and manage all our affairs from this perspective. Buddha, however, said there is no such thing. He said that the truth is that every phenomenon exists only because of conditions; thus, they have no substance.
Shoho means every phenomenon. We use the term ho which means Dharma because every phenomenon exists according to the principle of cause and conditions [in contrast to cause and effect].. After all, shoho muga means all things are interdependent, and there is no thing which exists in itself.
Ji-sho (self-nature) is a Buddhist term; generally, the term jitai (actual being, substance, or entity) is used instead. This actual being contains the causes of occurrence, continuance, and death or destruction in itself. Because of these causes it occurs, continues, and dies or is destroyed without being influenced from outside itself. If an entity has this kind of force in itself, we call it an actual being. Muji-sho (no-self-nature) means that there is no actual being as described above.

Everything we ordinarily experience in this world is interdependent. Being the cause and conditions of each other, all things create and destroy each other. If cause and conditions match, phenomena are created. If cause and conditions vanish, phenomena vanish. This is the fundamental structure of the reality we live in. Hence shoho jisso (every phenomenon is itself the ultimate reality) is the true aspect of reality.
Some people naively believe, however, that no-self means that the physical body or the psychological self does not exist. This would lead to the conclusion that there is no self and the inevitable question: if there is no self how could the world exist? From what I have said, I hope you can see that these opinions are based on misunderstandings of the teachings.

According to cause and conditions, the physical elements and mental functions come together to create what we generally think of as ourselves. In ancient Buddhist terms, the physical body consists of the four material elements of earth, water, fire, and wind. Mental functions consist of goun (Skt. panca skandha) (the five aggregates): shiki-un (Skt. rupa-skandha) (matter or form), ju-un (Skt. vedana-skandha) (perception), so-un (Skt. samjna-skandha) (conception), gyo-un (Skt. samskara-skandha) (volition), and shiki-un (Skt. vijnana-skandha) (consciousness). Simply put, the physical being cannot be conceived apart from the relationship to the parents which gave it birth or as existing apart from the food and other elements necessary to maintain the body. No self can actually exist independently of its social relationships

In the mind the self comes into existence at the deepest level which perhaps can be described as wholeness [the level of the unconscious]. The self emerges with a body from its connection with the parents and the elements from which the body is made up. and with a sense of self that is influenced by historical and social factors. We can therefore see that there is no separate being as such; this mutual dependence is what no-self nature means.
In any case the real state of all things or, in other words, the true form of all beings is no-self nature (mujisho) and no-self (muga). Depending on cause and conditions the true form of all beings changes and flows without stopping. This is certainly true. The real state of all things is formless. This is the meaning of the Tendai philosophy of kukan – the meditation on the essential ‘emptiness̓ of all existence. The Tendai system of scholarship is based on the contemplation of the void If you view the world from the perspective of space, its nature is no-self (no fixed nature, nonsubstantiality). If we explain mujisho negatively, the true form of all beings is formless, and there is no fixed form. Because all things are formless, rather than saying all things are connected, it is better to say that gods, Buddhas, human beings, animals, and plants, everything is of the same nature and equal. The entire universe is one. However, if we turn this around and explain it positively, because of what I said before, each thing is the true form. That is to say, all things, as they are, are the real state of all things (shoho jisho).

Everything as they are is the truth. Each one is an absolute being. Nothing has a fixed self. Because there is no fixed self, perhaps we can say each individual entity is the whole. The truth of shoho muga reveals the real state of all things.
In this manner, everything in the world we live in has no fixed self. All is formless-form. Because of this real state, each moment or each movement reveals the absolute. Each thing has meaning in existence as a whole. (There is nothing which is not needed). Each thing alone is the absolute being and the World-honoured One. Even a maggot in faeces is Buddha.
In this manner the real state of all things is formless (jisso-muso); this is no-self and non-differentiation. [From the spatial perspective reality is undifferentiated]. From formlessness and no-self, differentiation appears. The leaves are green, and the flowers are red. This is the perspective of cause and conditions in time.
Initially we began with the temporal principle which in the end changed to the spatial principle. Then we discussed the spatial principle which in the end turned into the temporal principle, hence space and time are one.

Nehan Jyaku-jo – Nirvana is Tranquility

As I have explained in time cause and conditions perpetually change. I have emphasized differentiation and impermanence. From the spatial perspective the real state of all things is undifferentiated. Both views are right, but this is like separating one drop of water into each element and intellectually understanding the characteristics of hydrogen and oxygen. This abstract knowledge does not produce a living drop of water.
Because all things are impermanent, everything is uncertain. Because all things depend on conditions, this world is beyond our control. The danger is that this view can be misunderstood and lead to fatalism. By dividing the single reality into time and space, cause and conditions versus the real state of all things as impermanence and selflessness, you can understand the principles of reality. But these principles are not reality itself. Time is space; space is time. Cause and conditions are the real state; the real state is cause and conditions. Just as hydrogen and oxygen combine to form a living drop of water, these separate principles must be brought together to form a living world.

In this living world, the third truth of the Dharma, “Nirvana is ultimate tranquility,” is found at the point where space and time cross. The truth that Nirvana is tranquility is not on the same level as the first two truths of the Dharma. Rather, when the first two coalesce, Nirvana is realized at a higher level.
The Japanese word nehan is a translation of the sound of the Sanskrit word Nirvana. Nirvana means the condition of extinction. It means freedom from the shackles of delusion, the extinction of the delusion of life and death [of all dualism]. Nirvana is the state of satori (enlightenment). Because of Nirvana, the agitation of the mind and emotional suffering disappear. Jakujo, therefore, is a condition of stillness in which no waves emerge. Nehan jakujo is a world free of the suffering of birth, age, sickness, and death. These four symbolize all suffering in the relative world. In Nirvana a person is free from life and death [all dualism], so he lives fully and dies fully in a creative dynamic samadhi (katsu zanmai).

Because everything is impermanent, we cannot expect anything. Because everything is no-self, nothing goes the way we want. Eventually we may come to believe that this world is fruitless and vain. This mistaken belief arises from an analytic, abstract point of view. It comes about because we are attached to the ego. Then we expect things that we should not expect and want to make things, which do not go our way, go our way.
If, however, you do not expect things and do not try to make things go your way, even when things do not work in your favour, you can find freedom. Even when things you expect to happen do not, you can attain calmness. This is true, isn’t it? The world of Nirvana is like this: from the perspective of the world of the absolute present, everything is perceived in its suchness without the imposition of the ego. Then the person benefits from and enjoys everything and experiences every day as a fine day.

After all, to adhere solely to the view that all things are equal is wrong. To believe only in differentiation as truth is also a fallacy. Equality is differentiation, and differentiation is equality. Emptiness is the wonder of being, and the wonder of being is emptiness. Not one, but not two, this is the [transcendent principle of the] Dharma gate. This kind of world is the world of Nirvana. In daily life whether moving your hands, raising your feet, coughing, whatever you’re doing at that moment, here and now, is Nirvana. In the world of Nirvana, the whole world can be put in a grain of dust; one movement can easily encompass the whole universe.
Master Rinzai said, “Here in front of my eyes! You, the person listening to my discourse.” This person, who can live here and now fully, can live the ultimate and limitless life. This life cannot be grasped as a principle. It must be grasped as an actuality and realized with the body. This is Zen.

The three truths of the Dharma are:

(1) All things are impermanent.
(2) Every phenomenon exists only by conditions.
(3) Nirvana is ultimate tranquility.

In the last analysis these three truths of the Dharma are actually a single truth of the real state of all things. Provisionally for the purpose of explanation the single truth was divided into three.
Past, present, future – any time must be grasped now in the immediate moment. Spatially any place must be grasped here where you stand. Anyone, old, young, men, or women must be grasped as oneself. This is the principle of the universality of human being. In other words, at the centre of the crossing of time and space, this “self” moves. The world of this free activity is the world of Nirvana.
This world of Nirvana is not separate and far away from the reality here and now in which you live and move. Nirvana is not a faraway dream world. It is this very world in which you suffer. Only in the world of Nirvana can you experience the end and the means as one, and every day is a fine day. Whatever you do is fulfilling in itself.

Master Hakuin in his “Poisonous Commentary to the Heart Sutra” grieves about many people’s misunderstanding of ultimate Nirvana. They take it to be a calm condition without activity and fall into the pit [of passivity]. This empty, quiet state of no activity is death-like and resembles the life of a ghost. It has less value than rotten socks. Rather than this, Hakuin says, “The birth and destruction of all living things as they are is the Nirvana of all Buddhas.” Our continuously changing daily lives just as they are in which we laugh, cry, suffer, enjoy, live, and die, are the Nirvana of all Buddhas.
Each single movement in our lives is the activity of Tathagata (a name for Buddha which means “one who has come from thusness”). At each moment whatever you are doing or experiencing is genuinely Nirvana. This is the world of the absolute present.

The real state of all things, cause and conditions, and equality and differentiation, are like two sides of one reality. They are certainly not separate. If we examine them conceptually, there are two principles, but in reality they are originally one. There is nothing outside of this one reality. The differentiation of each entity is transcended, and differentiation is realized as Oneness. The world of phenomenon as it is, is the real state of all things. This kind of world cannot be described, conceived, or explained. This is the world of the absolute present.
Because Nirvana cannot be described, conceived, or explained, you must make principle and practice one and intensify shugyo (training in the deepest sense) with your body and mind. This is the way of ultimate Nirvana. This is Zen. Discarding discriminating knowledge and realizing and expressing the world of the absolute present with the body is Zen.

Omori Sogen and Trevor Leggett