The Zen of Throwing it Away

continued …

Zen Book The problem of attachment is linked with the problem of ego. It is for this reason that Buddhism emphasizes the doctrine of anatta (no-self). In Buddhist psychology, there is a clear understanding of how desire arises due to ego. The human tendency is to quench desire by fulfilling it. The next time, the desire returns with a higher magnitude. Fulfilling the new desire now requires more energy and resources. Having fulfilled this, the intensity of the desire increases and the process continues. The end result of this cycle is that ultimately the individual finds himself suffocating in the web of desires. The fulfillment of desires produces attachments. Some of these attachments (illusions) remain on the conscious level; others find their place in the unconscious mind. The end result is suffering.

The materialism so prevalent in modern economies is based on the assumption that the more we consume, the happier we will be. The advertisers on radio, TV, and the Internet send us the same message Æ buy more and you will be happy. The needs are created artificially, and we are told that it is good for our economy. Buddhist economics challenges this norm. It asserts that the sellers, through their advertisements, attack where human nature is weak. They manipulate and capitalize on the weakness of the need to quench desires.

When I posed this problem to Roshi Fukushima, he asserted that the problem was an ancient one. After all, this is what Siddhartha Gautama discovered under the Bodhi tree. It seems that he was able to transcend the consequences that stem from attachments. For the average individual, the web of desires produces physical and mental suffering even though one may not realize it. Buddhism, including Zen, teaches the method of nullifying the effects of attachments through dhyana (meditation) and prajna (wisdom). The wisdom comes from understanding the Buddha dharma. Meditation provides an exercise in self-purification.

The Roshi recognizes that although minimization of wants is a Buddhist ideal, certain desires and wants are necessary for survival. Therefore, the vows that a lay person takes are less severe than the ones taken by the monks and nuns. The goal for both is ultimately the same — to transcend all attachments.

The Roshi explains that a distinction can be made between “good” and “bad” attachments. To covet a neighbor’s wealth is a bad attachment. However on a higher level of spiritual development, even desiring nirvana is a good attachment. He points out that when the monks first come to Tofukuji, they may be motivated to have a Zen experience (satori). In fact they should think positively about having an enlightenment experience. But in the later stages of training, all talk about satori is given up. I found this to be true in my time there. Once I asked a senior monk if he was close to satori experience, and he responded “ha-ha-ha.”

The Zen tradition is replete with many anecdotes and stories that bring the problem of attachment closer to home. Consider the following question: “If you are walking down the street and meet the Buddha, what do you do?” “Kill him,” comes the answer. How absurd! Can we really kill the Buddha? This saying means that one has to kill the attachment to the Buddha.

One of my favorites is the story of two monks who come upon a stream that they have to cross. Standing by the stream is a young maiden who also wants to cross. Seeing her dilemma, one monk picks her up and wades across, puts her on the other shore, and continues walking. The other monk, witnessing the event, finally breaks the silence by protesting that the other monk had touched the woman. He had surely broken the monastic rule that prohibits association with women. The monk’s reply to his friend’s protest is most telling. He says, “Oh! I left the girl near the shore. It seems you are still carrying her.”

In the preface to Zen Mind, Beginners Mind, Huston Smith narrates an incident when he visited Roshi Shunryu Suzuki. While they were talking, Huston Smith remarked that in his teachings, the Roshi didn’t talk much about satori. Upon hearing this, Mrs. Suzuki remarked, “Because he has not had one. Shunryu Suzuki laughed and said, “Do not tell any one.” This is yet another example of living in the spirit of detachment.

In Buddhaghosa’s text, Visuddhimagga (“The Path of Purity”), there is discussion on the “recollection of death.” The text describes the various ways in which death approaches and terrifies human beings. The monks and nuns are expected to contemplate on the text as an exercise in meditation. Buddhaghosa describes the benefits of this exercise this way:

“And the monk who is devoted to this recollection of death is always watchful, he feels disgust for all forms of becoming, he forsakes the hankering after life, he disapproves of evil, he does not hoard up many things, and with regard to the necessities of life he is free from the taint of stinginess. He gains familiarity with the notion of impermanence, and, when he follows that up, also the notions of ill and not-self will stand out to him.”

How does attachment to ideas, doctrines, things, etc., become the cause of suffering? Buddhism affirms that there is nothing in life that is permanent. We often hear that the Greek philosopher, Heraclitus, who believed in the impermanent nature of things, said, “You can never step in the same stream twice,” meaning that the second time one steps into the stream, the water has already flowed, the reality has changed. The Buddhist response to this saying would be, “You cannot step in the same stream even once, let alone twice.” This is to emphasize that nothing is the same; that change occurs all the time. The doctrine of impermanence is due to the link of the chain of cause and effect. Those who do not see the impermanent nature of things will attach to them, thinking that they are permanent. This is caused by their ignorance (avidya).

Working with the Buddhist ideal of non-attachment in the classroom, I often find that students misunderstand the concept. They understand what attachment means, but detachment poses a problem. For most, detachment suggests escaping, running away, being in isolation. To them it means being emotionally non-engaged in daily life. The Roshi refutes such an understanding. In the spirit of the Bhagavad Gita, detachment means non-attachment to the fruits of one’s action. It means keeping the ego out when undertaking a task. Actions undertaken with selfish motives divert the focus from the action to the individual. Once the actor (individual) becomes the focus, the spirit of altruism is lost.

Often students ask, “Do Buddhists ever have fun?” To them it seems that the quality of non-ego, non-attachment, and self-control lead to a very dull life. If this were the case, Buddhists would be the saddest people on Earth. On the contrary, they express contentment and joy. For the Zen master, Buddhist understanding of happiness is not based on gratification, in the sense that happiness comes when all desires are fulfilled. Happiness takes on a new meaning when desires are controlled and the egotistical self is given up.

Does non-attachment mean that one should not possess the good things that life has to offer? Can a lay person who has all the luxuries of life still practice Buddhist non-attachment? Yes, according to the Roshi. “This is the problem of the degree to which one is dependent on the ‘stuff’ one possesses. Can the person exercise letting go in the midst of having it all? If the person can, then he is not controlled by the ‘stuff’ he has. Then letting go will cause no pain. He is not attached.”

In Buddhism it is important to distinguish between desire and craving. Craving is that stage of human experience when the desire becomes an addiction. An addiction implies that what one is addicted to now controls the individual, as is the case with an alcoholic or a drug addict. The loss of self-control leads to the loss of the power of discrimination. Thus the mind is defiled. In Zen, particular attention is given to the state of mind.

Keido Fukushima’s calligraphy, “Hey! Throw it away,” is a constant reminder to me of my attachments.

When I asked the Roshi if he had any attachments himself, he laughed and said, “I have many good attachments. I like coffee, chocolate, and Joan Baez.” Knowing the Roshi, I know that he can throw these attachments away at any time.

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