As the dying embers of 2011 fade away into the rising horizon of January and the increasing frigid temperatures experienced in northern climes, it is a good opportunity to turn-about from all the crazed excessiveness of the holiday turmoil and just gently settle-in to the contemplative dimension that Winter Stillness can offer, namely Solitude itself. Usually when one considers solitude, images of locations that offer seclusion and solace from all sensory stimulations—like monasteries, temples, retreat centers, a mountain escape—immediately come to mind that define the exact parameters of what constitutes solitude. Having experienced such “retreat” locations in the past—for many years I frequented a Carmelite House of Prayer that was neatly nestled in the majestic mountains of New Hampshire—I can say with certainty that it was good and healthy and spiritually nourishing to frequent this setting from time to time to relish in the quietude it so graciously offered; yet, what about the other 99% of the time—is solitude necessarily defined by a location?

It is so easy to fall into the trap that “holy places” alone defines what is necessary, even a prerequisite, for one to thoroughly embrace a meditative and spiritual life. When one seriously reflects on this, however, it is clearly evident that the trap is sprung for falling into the darkest hole of materialism itself. Secluded locations can be nice for that spirit of reverie, yet they do not in and of themselves define the essential nature of solitude. If solitude is predicated on location, then it is materialistically dependent. Solitude is an inner-affair and is not an objective singularity. One can experience as much solitude walking down a darkened street alone at night as a secluded Carthusian monk does within his isolated cell. A Soto-Zen monk sitting on his zafu twirling his mala is not somehow spiritually superior to someone preparing breakfast for the kids on a frigid January morning. Solitude is not a particular location—indeed it is location-less and is a cultivation of that Recollective Resolve to remain centered in the Unborn at all times, irregardless of exterior temperament.

May the Unborn Spirit quieten your anxious mind so that you may truly cultivate your own sense of solitude in 2012—another imagined year in your apparent mind-realm.

Tags: contemplation, solitude, Spirituality, Unborn, Zen

Throughout Christendom the great feast of the Incarnation highlights again and again the early infancy narratives found within the gospels of Matthew and Luke, narratives that focus on the birth of the Christ-child, the Prince of Peace. It’s interesting to note that there are numerous parallels within many spiritual traditions throughout the millennia that speak of a miraculous birth of a long-awaited Messiah, most notably within many Pagan motifs like the one describing how the Egyptian Deity Horus was miraculously conceived of the virgin-Goddess Isis, who later fled to an isolated location to give birth since someone desired the death of her child. In fact, December 25th was chosen in antiquity for Christ’s birth since it coincided with the birth of the Sun-god, Sol Invictus; a reminder that the long days of darkness were now being supplanted with the slow return of the Light.

Standing apart from the anthropocentric emphasis that the Christos—the anointed-awakened one somehow had to be first conceived within an earthly womb to gain any salvific merit, the Gospel of John begins with the revelation that this Word-Made-Flesh was already vivaciously present since the beginning of the created order: “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. “ (John 1:1) John’s Gospel contains many Gnostic elements, and there is increasing evidence showing that this Johannine community was heavily influenced by the Essenes. It also needs to be emphasized that this Eternal Word is in actuality, beginningless, without conception or perception of any kind. It is Unborn and completely devoid of all attributes since It is the very vivifying animator that precedes any-thing within the created or uncreated order—of all things visible and invisible.

From a Lankavatarian perspective, this “Word” is a decoder that directly points to the Prior and Unmoving Principle whose “dark-call” is the living dynamo that animates (breathes) all sentient forms into existence and then draws them back again into the primordial formless depths—as John’s gospel states, “All things were made through him (the Word) and without him nothing came to be” (John 1:3). The Self-same Prime motionless mover That awoke those shepherds keeping night watch in the fields; That was the Star directing the three magi bearing those gifts of gold, frankincense and myrrh; That empowered all those enamored smiling mouths that gazed so lovingly on the Christ-child who lay asleep on the hay; That inspired the developing bodhichild (bodhisattva) within the heart of Jesus the Christ, enlightening him to proclaim his Father’s nirvanic and undivided kingdom, the Dharmakaya. To paraphrase John, “To those who accepted the Word into their hearts were made into Bodhichildren themselves; to those who trusted in the Dark Animating Principle were not born by natural generation, nor by any sentient agency, but from the very mouth of the Unborn.”

Tags: Christmas, dharmakaya, Essenes, gnostic, Horus, Isis, Jesus, John, Lankavatara, Luke, magi, Matthew, Messiah, Spirituality, Unborn

I sense there are many searching wanderers, spiritual seekers out there looking to find that place of rest that spirituality promises. I spent my youth wandering from philosophy to philosophy, from worldview to worldview. I experimented with many attitudes to life, from hedonistic to ascetic. The German philosopher, Immanuel Kant, condensed the philosophical questions in this way:

What can I know?
What ought I to do?
What can I hope?

Truly, isn’t the burden of uncertainty that made life so hard to bear for us in the past, centered around those three questions? I’d like to share a little autobiographical recollection with you all.

Heidegger once wrote that western metaphysics is riddled with a certain forgetfulness. I, too, was under the impression I’m delivered to a forgetfulness, an oblivious existence of my true nature, and ultimately, nihilism. I fell into a depressive state of complete meaninglessness. Needless to say, reading philosophy didn’t help. It occurred to me I need something other than thinking to save myself from the depressive, nihilistic state of existence I found myself in – from that existential crisis of meaninglessness.

Fast forward a few dozen books and months of research, I found what I thought was the Eastern practice of meditation. Intellectually, I was most attracted to shikantaza. Shikantaza or just-sitting appealed to me the most because it was the complete opposite of what I was doing for years: pondering, thinking, thinking about thoughts, reflecting upon reflections on questions of substance, quality, quantity, being, essence, reality, subject and object, and all those topics philosophy concerns herself with.

So this practice was completely non-intellectual, mere sitting. Verily this practice healed my depression and many other self-destructive patterns. In retrospective I must ask myself what this shikantaza practice really did. It is not that it did anything: the depressive state I was in was a self-created torture chamber made of thoughts. Sitting was merely a doing nothing, and undoing, that reverted me to a more natural state. But solving my little depression was not what I was after.

The question of life and death, the one great matter – remained unattended. I have found peace of mind through this sitting practice, I thought, but there is still dukkha (unsatisfactoriness), there is still samsara (birth-and-death). So it occurred to me that the problem must be in my laziness and unwillingness to sit enough, or to find a place of practice rigorous enough with long hours of ritualized and dictated sitting. After conquering my depression through my own effort, I was convinced that to attain the highest spiritual goal, I need to relocate to a physically existing Zen temple.

The misery was rising again, but this time it wasn’t about my former self-image, but my spiritual inadequacy. While searching online for a Zen temple in Asia that would accept Westerners, I was told by some interesting individual about the School of the Unborn and its teachings. I suddenly felt – a gut feeling or a Socratic daimonion type “call” – that this is genuine.  And what was different about this school? – Unlike all other schools, this one showed me the Mirror right from the start. No wasting time. There was no talk about irrelevant matters, but the pointing to Mind began right from the get go. Engaged in spiritual discussion with one of the school’s former teachers, I had asked what lineage revolved around the school’s origins: was it Rinzai Zen, or perhaps connected with Bankei Zen, or was it something else? What authorizes it?”

The answer I received – was in the form of this koan:

Where can the lineage of the Unborn be found?

This didn’t feed my delusions, but instead it spoke to my still unawakened, dormant Buddha-Nature directly. The recollective resolve awakened within, through that question and its dark call. Here, I must stop. Words cannot delve deep into what is referred to as the “dark call”. – Yet, to you, dear reader, I pose the same question. Wandering from philosophy to philosophy, worldview to worldview, practice to practice – trying various meditations, and always positing “Truth” outside of yourself – to temples, to masters, to words … since all that you perceive externally is subject to impermanence, how can the Unborn be found by chasing appearances, by chasing externals? How can it have to do with sitting, temples, statues or chanting? What is the correct practice of the Unborn? – Just this. Whenever my mind drifts away into such question, I cut it right at its root with the “Unborn koan” and its “dark call”:

 

… meaning is not to be found in words. Our Ch’an predecessors always referred to this as “dark-call-secret-command.” But this “dark call” or code means something quite different from talking. To read the Chinese character for “sky” and to think only of the blue expanse above you would be a complete misunderstanding of the character. So you must think of all koans as “dark-call-secret-commands.

(Seongcheol)

Tags: Buddha Nature, Heidegger, koan, Rinzai Zen, suffering, Unborn Mind School of Zen, Zen

In the dharma expanse of the Unborn Mother
She, holy Goddess, Tara resides
Bestowing well-being to all.
Invoke her protection from all fear

The Divine Feminine appears in many diverse cultures and is indicative of the protective and nurturing Element of Truth within the Beloved Unborn. In the Catholic world this element is manifested as the Blessed Virgin Mary and the final Sunday in the Season of Advent is devoted to her as the vessel that ushered in the Age of Emmanuel—or God is with us within the incarnation. In Orthodox circles she is known as the Theotokos, or God-Bearer; yet, she personifies all who are empowered to be bearers of this Sacred Unborn Word whose Light forever shines in the darkness of this present saha-realm.

Within Buddhism this element is manifested as Beloved Tara—who, out of infinite compassion for suffering humanity, was born from the tears of the Bodhisattva Avalokiteshvara. Tara is considered as the Mother of all Buddhas and is mystically portrayed in the above depiction (if you click it, she will expand) as having Seven Eyes—the usual two, and a third eye in the middle of her forehead and on each hand and foot—revealing that her Compassionate Vigilance encompasses all who suffer; this also depicts the all pervasive Recollective Vigilance that those on the Unborn path are called to embrace.

Yes, the Element of the Divine Feminine is deeply embedded in the collective psyche and is essentially Divine Wisdom Herself; to drink deeply from this Source assures one a proper dharma-compass that directs the way to healthy discernment within the oftentimes volatile and turbulent Samsaric Sea. Like Beatrice in Dante’s Divine Comedy, Tara is a guide whose unbounded compassion and love will never let you down during your earthly sojourn; invoking her divine aid is an auspicious action that will Bless you with Noble Wisdom and abiding peace.

Oh Tara, holy liberator, swift acting mother, we
pray and invoke your blessings.
Please watch over us, protect us, and hold us in your
loving embrace

In the spring-summer of 2010 I went through an agonizing recovery period resulting from an emergency surgery on my spine. A dermatologist had negligently prescribed a horrible drug called CycloSporine to treat my acute psoriasis-eczema; after two months of taking this medication and experiencing severe pain in my upper back and shoulder, the drug had actually eaten a hole through my C6-C7 vertebrae. Needless to say, I was immobilized for some time after the surgery and endured severe pain that could not be dissipated through the use of pain drugs; nothing helped to ease the incredible throbbing that incessantly shot through my upper torso—not medication, not prayer, not meditation. Amazingly, it was the “Dance of the Siddhars”, music and video by Turiya Nada that helped to subside the agony for substantial amounts of time. I would sway back and forth in my chair as this enticing yoga of the siddhars seemed to transport me beyond the ever-present pain into a timeless realm—indeed, into the deathless dimension of the Unborn Itself. That experience left an indelible mark that revealed the marvelous and diverse ways that the Unborn Spirit comes and reveals Itself in our times of desperate need.

*addendum

Just had to add the following to this particular blog–it refers to healing drums as referred to in the Suramgamasamadhi Sutra:

It is like the great king of medicaments (mahdbhaisajyardja) called Vipravasa, ‘Dispersion’ in time of battle (samgrdma) the drums (dundubhi) are coated with it; as soon as the wounded, hit by an arrow (salya) or struck by a lance (sula), hear the sound (svara) of those drums, the arrows come out [of their wounds] and the poisons (visa) are eliminated.

Pretty wild–appears to have some further mystical import to my experience.

Tags: C6 C7, meditation, Turiya Nada, Unborn Itself

As Bankei once stated, “The Unborn Buddha Mind is marvelously illuminating”. Bankei’s Zen was refreshing and life-giving; as part of this “illumination”, Bankei was empowered to assert that “Everyone is endowed with the Buddha-mind, only they don’t know it.” He knew that the hidden bodhiseed lay dormant beneath layers of ignorance, avidya, but if properly invoked, it would awake within the mind of the dreaming. He was no elitist, as though his own self-realization and sect alone held the necessary gnosis for salvific freedom; indeed, the common person (worldling), too, was allowed entrance through his dharma-gate into the all-inclusive and healing embrace of the Unborn.

Another essential element within Bankei’s Zen was the significance of having the discerning Dharma-eye—this was critical for someone expounding the true dharma, as Bankei wrote:

“A Zen teacher cannot help others unless he himself possesses the discerning Dharma-eye. If he has fully perfected his Dharma-eye, he is able to know someone to his very marrow just by observing his face as he approaches. He can know all about him by merely hearing his voice come from outside the temple walls. It is like a bright mirror, which reflects fully and distinctly whatever faces it, revealing both the beautiful and the ugly. Each word he speaks, everything he does in dealing with students, strikes right to the place of their affliction like a sharp gimlet, dissolving their attachments, breaking off their shackles, ushering them into a realm of wonderful freedom and blissful joy. Unless he can do that, what help can he hope to be to others?” Indeed, as Bankei further noted this discerning — all pervasive Dharma eye—was the one factor wherein his sect surpassed all others.

It is good and healthy to acquire proper discernment—the Dharma eye—within this dharma-ending age. It fully empowers one to see with perfect clarity what teachings prove helpful, joyful and valuable, and those that purportedly offer salvific freedom, but in actuality, subjugate many beneath a veil of dark deceit.

Having studied and experienced many diverse spiritual paths for over 30 years, it is indeed amazing how one discovers similar threads running through each unique system, threads that convey the awe and mystery of the prior-animating force that gives birth to a majestic panorama revealing the full creative prowess of the Unborn. Sir Nisargadatta Maharaj was one such herald of the Unborn, although his path began by focusing on the consciousness-factor (the I Am) that miraculously appears on the face of the Unborn Essence, but then one day subsides and returns again to the primordial animating principle. In his later years he focused on always being “prior to consciousness” and awakening to the fact that You are That which is before all outflows—the Parabrahmin.

Pradeep Apte is one salient devotee of Nisargadatta, and his work offers a marvelous and concise synthesis of his gurus teachings. The following offers one such syncretic insight into the realization of the Unborn Principle.

When the adept’s perceptional faculties are regenerated, all discursive associations dissolve away like shadows disappearing into the deepening twilight. One awakens beyond the mundane affairs of the heavy-laden body consciousness into the boundless miracle of the deathless principle. There is no turning back; if one were to rekindle just one former attachment, then sweet union with the unborn is lost. All one need do is to allow this regeneration of one’s former pattern of existence to emerge. To paraphrase a familiar spiritual proclamation, “And I live, now not I, but the Unborn Spirit liveth in me.”

When this spiritual regeneration occurs, one is freed from all skandhic shackles and stands naked on the imageless terrain of deathlessness. The adept now begins to put to rest any further dialectical doubts: does this union with the Unborn in this transcendent dimension differ from union with It in the midst of one’s daily activities? Indeed, how can one be united with the Unborn in the daily events of life and not, at least in some measure, also being united with IT as It Is In Itself?

There is no bifurcation here: the awakening of the spiritual regeneration empowers the adept to see Reality (dharmadhatu) through the Very Eyes of the Blessed One and no longer through the constricted and dualistic lens of the body consciousness. There is no longer samsara or nirvana, enslaved mind or awakened bodhisattva, male or female, for all is One in the Sacred and Undivided Splendor of the Unborn.

Tags: deathlessness, samsara, shadows, Unborn

The great Rhineland Mystic, Meister Eckhart, expressed the opening of the dark principle in this fashion: “Seek God, so as never to find him”. Eckhart’s statement is packed with dharma-delight; if you’re trying to capture the essence of the Absolute Unknowable (cloaked by the term God), then It will constantly elude your efforts.  The Ecclesiastical authorities of his day could never pin Meister Eckhart down, although they were able to silence his profound mystical writings from gaining any merit within the exoteric church. Yet, his marvelous insights have outlived the Magisterial Monsters of his time and his work continues to shine within both apophatic and kataphatic spiritual traditions. In light of the Buddhadharma of the Sacred Unknowable, the beloved dark pearl of the Unborn Mind cannot be discovered through any obtuse discursive searching, but rather through a way of surrendering all sensate faculties in favor of the supraessential light of unbounded and undivided bodhipower. (The power of the awakened spirit-mind)

The unfolding of the dark contemplation, the way to union with the Sacred Unknown, can be discerned as follows: the important thing to understand is that there is nothing to understand—you don’t have to do or know anything; in this way you can let-go of all conceptual notions that hinder your progress. You need to be “empty” so that the Unborn Spirit can infuse into your bodhisoul Unborn Light Itself—so, let the Unborn Spirit act alone…allow It to drive for awhile. It is also essential that you cultivate solitude into your life—and this includes all areas of your life, even in the midst of the busy marketplace; in this cultivation you will be set free from the desire to experience some kind of extraordinary experience that will somehow reveal the presence of the transcendent—It is always being revealed and manifested daily in the ordinary events of your day. Do not be overly and obsessively concerned with your spiritual progress—just allow the Unborn Spirit to do Its stuff without you getting in the way; the only “seeking” you need to do is to abandon your own willfulness in favor of the Unborn will. Learn to accept whatever may cross your diurnal path, both the positive and the negative—when you learn to accept, then the imageless grace of the Unborn will be bestowed upon your spirit. Remember, above all, that this dark contemplation can only be realized in the perfection of love Itself.

Tags: contemplation, Meister Eckhart, Unborn, Unborn Spirit