![]() not a matter really of you and they, of past and present or future but of continuous
practice.
Dogen zenji says,
To not continuously practice what is to be continuously practiced is to
despise the Buddha, is to fail to honour the Buddha, is to despise continuous
practice, is not to be born with the Buddha and die with the Buddha, not to
study and practice as the Buddha. The moments of the opening of flowers and
the falling of leaves are the activity of continuous practice. Polishing a mirror¹
and shattering a mirror² are not other than continuous practice.
Speaking in terms of being devoted to the Buddha and honouring the Buddha
is not something that means that much to us today. As our practice deepens and
opens, naturally our recognition of and appreciation for what our Teacher and the
Lineage has given us in this practice also deepens and opens. But we are all wary of
the dangers of being guided by devotion. Being born with the Buddha and dying
with the Buddha, studying and practising as the Buddha speaks a bit more clearly to
us, I think. Through continuous practice we become intimate with the Buddhas own
realization and practice, we ourselves embody the Buddha. But of course if we do
not continuously practice what is to be continuously practiced we turn away from
this intimate realization and crouch in the isolation of our petty stories and delusions,
separated not only from the Buddha but also from ourselves and everyone else and
the world as a whole. The blossoming of recognition, the shedding of delusions,
polishing the mirror of luminosity and then, hakyo, shattering it so that there are
no surfaces or boundaries anywhere, all of these are aspects of continuous practice.
Dogen zenji says,
And so. You might sometimes try to avoid continuous practice and
disguise this delusion by saying that even avoiding continuous practice is
itself continuous practice. Or you might go here and there aiming at and
aspiring for continuous practice as if the aspiration were the same as it. All of
this is like the son who abandoned the treasure of his father and wandered
poor in foreign lands. Although the winds and storms did not rob him of body
and life, he still was lost without the inheritance that was his. Seeking in this
way, you miss the Dharma treasure of your true father. And so, do not
disregard continuous practice for even a second.
We have spoken of the strategy of trying to use Zen as an ornament to put
some shine to the dustiness of ones stale old round of eating and shitting and eating
and shitting by saying that daily life is my practice without actually doing zazen let
alone continuously practising.
Another strategy of avoidance can initially appear to be somewhat more
diligent however. We might develop some idea of what continuous practice is and
search after that, disregarding the instructions that we have been given. Without
having surrendered our strategies enough to have even stopped trying to be mindful
of the sensations of the hand by forming a mental image of the hand and trying to
feel that or of trying to feel the hand down there from up here behind the eyes,
we want to capture what we imagine deep practice to be. We hear that because of
this continuous practice, there are sun, moon, and stars. Because of this continuous
practice, there are earth and open sky. And so we think, Ooh, that sounds lovely.
Ill have a bit of that. We hear about true practice pervading all directions and put a
compass under our zafu. We hear that this world of ten directions is a single bright
jewel and so we buy a shiny crystal and hang it in on a string so that it dangles in
front of us and throws rainbow coloured light around the room, just like our spirit
1
Makyo.
2
Hakyo.
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