Koans are an aspect of Zen Buddhism that I've always looked upon as wonderfully mysterious, yet unappealing. For in traditional Zen writings I'd read about a student being given a koan like "Does a dog have buddha nature?"
Then they struggled to figure out what the answer is, periodically having a get-together with their Zen master for him to see how they're doing, where usually he rejects their lame attempt at a response by hitting them on the head with his staff or screaming at them.
Not exactly something that sounds either pleasant or productive to me.
But near the end of his book, Original Love, which I finished reading today, Zen master Henry Shukman presents a view of koans which makes more sense than any other description of koan practice that I've come across.
First Shukman describes koans in this fashion.
Koan training is an ingenious method for conveying the experience of awakening, and for learning to live it more thoroughly, in a rich, deep life informed by love.
Most koans are about things. A dog. A tree. A bridge. A flower. Autumn leaves. Somehow, in Zen, these ordinary things of the world contain the deepest truths. If these truths are explored through koans, then the most ordinary things can awaken us.
...What is the sound of one hand? Stop the sound of the distant bell. Make Mount Fuji take three steps. A meditator runs a koan through their mind as they sit, until they become absorbed in the phrase.
...What is the sound of one hand? A nonsense question. Yet if we refrain from getting into problem-solving mode, and don't try to unravel it like a puzzle, then we can allow the strange question to hover in our minds, like a full moon rising in the evening sky as sunset is darkening into night. There the hazy moon is, floating low in the sky. So the koan floats in the mind. We wait and see -- does it provoke a call, an ease, a quiet? Does it spark curiosity?
Then Shukman shares a guided meditation on Exploring a Koan. This sort of thing isn't in the traditional literature about koans. I'm grateful Shukman describes his approach to koan practice, as it is appealingly doable.
In this meditation we'll explore sitting with a classic koan. This one actually has two formulations: "This" and "What is this." We'll try out both in this sit. A key aspect of meditating with a koan is not to try to answer or resolve it. It may seem paradoxical, but instead of seeking a response, see if you can just state the koan in your mind and simply observe what effect the word or phrase has on the quality or clarity of meditation.
As with any other sit, start by finding a comfortable seated position. Let your whole body relax. Let your body be balanced, so all parts can relax downward around the central column of the upper body. (If you're reclining, then give yourself entirely to the support beneath you.) The spine has its own intrinsic capacity to hold itself upright. Let it do that by itself. Let your body be balanced around it, so everything else can drape and hang, like rigging gone slack on a tall ship at rest in a bay.
Feel the swells of breath rolling gently through you, slightly lifting and lowering the hull of your lower trunk. Let the rise and fall of the breath soothe you.
Now sense the space within which your body sensations are appearing.
Tune into the space within which sounds are arising. Note that they are really one space, one great space.
Now, as presence starts to develop and you begin to inhabit your experience here and now, gently bring in the koan. Start by saying in your mind the word This... This... on each exhalation.
Let the word come gently, quietly. You inhale... and then exhale, and in your mind you add the word This... to the longer, relaxing release of the exhalation.
This... This... This
Don't try to do anything special. Don't seek anything special. Just imagine that there is nothing more to be found. All that there is, is here right now. There is nothing but This... This
Again, don't look for anything. Just rest in exactly what is happening right now. This... This
How does it feel to hear the word This? Notice when you say it if whether the word has any effect on you that you can detect. This...
If the practice is feeling interesting or is arousing curiosity or appreciation, then stay with the feeling and continue as you are. This... This
If the practice is not particularly engaging, or if you feel like you have done enough of it for now, then we can shift to a different formulation.
Now, in the same way as before, on each exhalation, add the words What is this...
Don't think of the words as a question to which you need to find an answer. Imagine that there is no answer and that the words are only a phrase. What is this...
Gently, quietly, and tenderly, pour this little phrase into the stream of your exhalation.
Inhale ... and exhale: What is this...
What is this... What is this...
No straining, no striving, no answering. Just the words. Just the phrase. What is this...
Once again, see how it feels in your body and mind when you add this question into the space of your meditation Utter the phrase in your mind, and taste any aftereffects of saying it.
What is this...
And when you feel ready, drop the phrase and rest in silence and stillness for a few moments. Then bring some movement into your toes and fingers, your limbs, and your spine. Open your eyes and stretch. Come back to the space you're in, ready for whatever is next.
Thank you for being open to trying this.
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