Be a Samurai during Songkran

 

Warm in the Cold by Marser

The Songkran holiday is kicking off tomorrow.   As the year's longest-period official holiday, Songkran deserves all the hype it is getting.

For white collars in particular, Songkran is definitely something to look forward to.   When the economy was better, middle-class Thais tended to use it to fly out of the country, feeling grateful they could escape the scorching heat even for a little while.

This year, given the current economic downturn, more Thais are opting to stay at home.   The economy is having an effect on our mood as well.   People are a bit edgy. A  t the very least, we have become grumpy folks.

This brings us to the importance of staying cool during this summer holiday.   It is no secret that we humans find it harder to control our temper when the weather is maddeningly hot, global-warmingly hot.   It does not help either that the town is a little bit more crowded than every year in the past.   Longer queues and overcrowded restaurants, anyone?

So, watch out, dear readers.   With the above reasons, patience is going to be limited and tempers are going to fly this Songkran.   And we didn't even take into consideration the heated political atmosphere that is lurking in the background yet.

Songkran and samurai

As separate concepts, Songkran and samurai do not seem to produce any mental association.   But, believe it or not, almost 300 years ago in 1714, a caring samurai teacher named Daidoji Yuzan wrote a book that sounds as if he had the image of Thais celebrating Songkran in mind!

Titled Bushido for Beginners, the book is basically a manual for young, aspiring samurais.   Like us in the 21st century, life could be a struggle for the 18th century's Japanese warrior class.   In Tokugawa Japan, although the samurai class has been put on top of the social hierarchy, they ranked last economically, well below farmers, artisans and merchants.

Tokugawa Japan was also known as a peaceful period.   The samurai, therefore, faced another unprecedented distress. Their practical status as warriors had been lost.   They were busy redefining their raison d'etre, searching for their self-esteem. Basically, they had been transformed from a revered military class into a struggling civil servant class.

Seeing the plight of the young warriors, Daidoji Yuzan came up with that book.   At first glance, it seems to be a general career guide on "how to be a good samurai."   Reading between the lines, however, one can see that Yuzan wrote the book out of his love and concern for the younger generation.   His instructions, if dutifully followed, will lead the young men to a sustainably peaceful life.   He was coaching them how to "live smart." His real motive, therefore, was to help them out of suffering.

Consider that the world is now experiencing universal suffering, may be it is a good idea to look at Yuzan's timeless advice.

Be aware of death even at New Year

First, let's imagine the usual Songkran image: parties everywhere and reckless people roaming.   Year after year, statistics for road accidents during the holidays clearly show that alcohol is the number one culprit.   Yet, regrettably, the lobbyists still can not secure us a law prohibiting alcohol consumption while in a vehicle!   It is as if the authorities are trying to promote more deaths during the holidays!   But, seriously, do you think any revelers believe that they might die during the festivities?

Now, consider the opening sentence of Yuzan's book, "The man who would be a warrior considers it his most basic intention to keep death always in mind, day and night, from the first meal on New Year's Day right through the evening of last day of the year."

As Songkran is the Thai New Year, it would not hurt to remember Yuzan's advice and try thinking about death a little bit.   When one constantly keeps death in mind, Yuzan argued, both loyalty and filial piety are realised and a myriad of evils and disasters are avoided.

Songkran is supposed to be the time one goes to spend time with one's extended family to show respect and filial piety to the family elders.   If we keep death in mind, both ours and theirs, chances are that we would be gentle in our words, kind in our deeds, and mindful in our thoughts.

In his poetic language, Yuzan went on to describe a person's life as fleeting, not unlike the dew in the evening or the frost in the morning.   Being resolved that this might be the last day that we may live, Yuzan explained, one would naturally attend to one's parents with the thoughts that this may be for the last time, and one's concern for them would be sincere.

Therefore, if you are fortunate enough to be able to pour the blessing waters on the hands of your parents and/or grandparents this year, remember that it could be the last time. This way, your Songkran moment would be memorable.

When one forgets death, Yuzan continued, one's mind would lack prudence.   Arguments will be started over insensitive speech, and controversies will flare up concerning matters that could have been finished simply by ignoring them.   In an example quite similar to the scene at Songkran, Yuzan further reminded us to consider what could happen when one walks recklessly in the midst of crowds on temple visiting trips, bumping into strange fools and getting into unexpected fights.

The samurai's dos and don'ts

Because of that possible scenario, Yuzan suggested the young samurai shouldn't go to high-risk places even when invited.   If travelling during the festive season is unavoidable, Yuzan recommended that one plans one's route carefully in advance to stay clear of possible troubles.

At parties, Yuzan pointed out, smart warriors would eat and drink in moderation and train themselves to prudently keep sexual indulgence at a distance.   When having to engage in a conversation, laudable samurai would also keep their words to the minimum.   The most important thing is to diligently watch one's thoughts and words.

The popularity of Yuzan's book is a testament that his advice works.   Being mindful at New Year's is never out of date, for now or for the 18th century samurai!

May you all have a mindful and memorable Songkran holiday.

The Zen of Pain: Part II

 

Crying Baby by CeeKay’s Pix

Two weeks ago, we began our discussion on something that all of us will sooner or later come across in life - pain.   We looked into the nature of pain and also the fact that pain is in fact one of Zen's specialties.

This week, let us hear from a Zen master what he has to say about pain and illness in general.  After all, it is better to know beforehand how to handle pain and illness while you are still relatively healthy. To try to cram on this mind-training practice when you are already in deep pain or severe illness is going to be much harder.

By the way, the emphasis on Zen does not mean that Buddhist masters of the Theravada tradition are less able than their Zen counterparts when it comes to gaining wisdom from pain. To practice vipassana under a good teacher, one naturally knows what pain is. Vedana (feelings or sensation) is one of the Four Foundations of Mindfulness, Satipatthana is that which one would definitely encounter and gain wisdom from.

The difference, perhaps, is the emphasis. From the little experience that the author has had with both traditions, Zen seems to zero in on the ability to cultivate wisdom out of extremely trying physical and mental conditions. This applies not just to zazen, or sitting meditation, but on other types of Zen-inspired training as well such as martial arts.

Moreover, it does not mean that one has to engage in one "formal" form of Zen training or another in order to have a shot at wisdom and, consequently, freedom from suffering.  The ability to apply Zen to daily living so that one would know how to deal with impromptu physical and mental suffering is what Zen is all about.

The following are insights from the teachings of Zen master Seung Sahn, to which the author has added additional commentaries.

Your Physical Body is Not Your True Self

The first lesson from Master Seung Sahn is that you have to understand that your physical body is not your true self.

Well, that is a tough one.  For those who have not physically experienced in a retreat the fact that the body and mind are two separate entities, this very first lesson is already difficult to swallow.   How could my body not be my "self"?  If it is not "me" that can feel, and in turn got terrified of, pain, who could that be?

Relax, the master said. Do not be afraid of your sickness (and/or pain).   At times everybody is afraid of what will happen to their body.   Rather than assuming that "I must be healed," the master suggested that we must understand the Ultimate Truth first.

And what is that Truth?  It is that everyone dies.

The Question Worth Asking

Certainly, we will all die. In fact, we can even die sooner than any statistics suggest, meaning our death could be from countless other causes totally unrelated to our illness.

Once that realization is firmly settled in our minds, the next logical question would naturally follow, "... Why, then, do I have to go through this much suffering of illness, pain, and, on top of that, face the fear of dying?"

The question itself gives hint to the answer. If there was no "you" to begin with, would there be any being that can feel the pain?  Definitely not.

It is because "we" were born that there is this physical body to serve as a breeding ground for various illness and hence the pain.

It is because we were born that we must become ill, have pain, and die.

One of my vipassana teachers even went one step further and suggested that, when we were asked what caused the death of Mr so-and-so whom we happened to know, we should simply reply, "birth."

My teacher is right. Birth is the real "natural cause" of death. Not only for Mr so-and-so, but also for all of us.

Turn This Pain into an Opportunity

But why do we have to be born, then, to face all these sufferings?  If you have not yet found your teacher and started practicing mindfulness, this question may pop up in your mind now and then.  The more pain you have or the more serious your illness is, the more often this question would come up to bother you.

This is how Master Seung Sahn's teaching fits in.  He simply invited us to find out first what human beings really are, meaning why we were born, and what for?   His reason is that, if you do indeed find the answer, your direction will be clear when you die.

And if not?  The Master gave a simple and to-the-point answer.  He said that our consciousness will go round and round.  If the pain you are facing now, either physical and mental, seems unbearable to you, the idea of facing that very same pain over and over again should at least make you cringe and try to find out more how to get out of all this as soon as you can.   Not just this very present pain, but every future pain.

If losing your direction while you are still living is a problem, imagine how horrifying it would be if you lose your direction when you are dying?  How can you be sure that you could direct your mind, your consciousness, into the right direction?

Having survived near-death experience before, the author could assure the readers that indeed mindfulness does help in that crucial moment.   At least, your mind is calm, your direction is clear.   The result?  Well, to each his own karma.

This brings us to ask ourselves if we have created any positive karma lately?  Even in pain and illness, you can still create good karma for yourself. How?  By living a Zen life and practicing mindfulness at every waking moment, of course!   If you are now having pain in your life, regard it as a perfect opportunity to become Enlightened.   All you have to do is to start finding out what your true self is.  Think of it as the most special gift you can give to yourself because, quite frankly, we all deserve it.

Disasters Within

Today marks the 4th anniversary of the 2004 tsunami disaster, a catastrophe that was billed as the deadliest in history, claiming more than 200,00 lives across many countries in the Asian continent.

Photo courtesy of Bangkok Post

Most of us can likely remember the magnitude of the impact the disaster had on our lives or people close to us. In the wake of the tragedy, many people who were directly affected asked a well-known scholar-monk, the Rev W. Vajiramedhi, for advice.

His various dhamma talks on the topic given on different occasions were later compiled into a book, titled Kluen Nok, Kluen Nai (The Waves Without, The Waves Within). Many editions have been printed to give away as a dhamma dana (gift of dhamma) by various compassionate individuals and organisations.

Today, as the fateful date returns, many families and friends of the victims could not help but be reminded of the heartache when they learned that they just lost their loved ones.

In Buddhism, every crisis is a learning opportunity. Under proper guidance, one can develop the technique to turn every crisis into a lasting wisdom that eventually leads to enlightenment itself.

Since the book by the Rev W. Vajiramedhi was in Thai and is now out of print, the author would like to dedicate the space of today's column to summarise the gems of that wisdom as a befitting memorial to that tragic event.

The sound advice that the Rev W. Vajiramedhi gave to the friends and families of the victims of the 2004 tsunami is as follows:

Accept the truth. The faster, the better

Whenever crisis strikes, be it from natural disasters or man-made ones, find your inner strength through mindfulness so that you would be able to accept the truth as it is.

According to the Rev W. Vajiramedhi, by accepting the truth, the mind would be able to restore its balance. The faster one can accept the truth, the faster one can move on with life.

On the other hand, the longer one lingers in suffering over the event that has passed, the more difficult it would be to regain a proper frame of mind. The bottom line is, those who are courageous enough to accept the truth up front would be able to think properly and know what needs to be done.

In order to have the proper frame of mind to gain wisdom from a disaster, the Rev W. Vajiramedhi suggested that we should be open-minded. Merely observe without being judgmental. Do not criticise and try to find a scapegoat. The blame game, one must realise, does not get one out of suffering.

Familiarize Oneself with Life's Ultimate Truth

This second step to gain wisdom from a disaster has a two-fold benefit. Not only one would gain wisdom from the disaster that just occurred, but one would also be prepared for future, unavoidable disasters as well.

Life's ultimate truth is in fact very straightforward. And when one learns it when disaster has not struck yet, it would be easier for the mind to accept. Therefore, the Rev W. Vajiramedhi said it is important that we familiarise ourselves with them as soon as possible in life, so that the next time disaster strikes, we would be ready. Life's ultimate truth includes:

1) No one escapes ageing. In fact, the deteriorating process toward death starts at birth; 2) No one escapes illness and pain; 3) No one escapes death; 4) Losing loved ones and treasured possessions cannot be avoided; and 5) To each his/her own karma. No one escapes the Law of Karma.

By realising this final truth alone, one would be able to refrain from the blame game that is nothing more than creating a new negative karmic cycle for oneself.

Learn to Live Fully in the Present

Suffering only occurs when one's mind falls into the past or ventures in speculation into the future. Therefore, the ability to live fully in the present is a valuable life skill. The Rev W. Vajiramedhi suggested some practical methods as follows:

1) Keep oneself busy; 2) Build up one's concentration through prayer; 3) Learn meditation techniques; and 4) Learn how to face one's own death by practicing mindfulness of death, Maranassati.

Mindfulness of Death

In it simplest meaning, the practice of mindfulness of death is to be constantly aware that death can happen to us any second. In Lord Buddha's words, the mindful ones are those who realise that they might not survive even into the next breath. When practiced properly, mindfulness of death would: 1) sharpen one's mindfulness; 2) enable us to understand the true value of life; and 3) enable us to perform our duty without carelessness. Mindfulness of death can be practiced in every waking moment, the Rev W. Vajiramedhi said, even when stuck in traffic.

There is one word of caution, though. As with any other mindfulness practice, it is best to be done under supervision of a veteran teacher.

If mindfulness of death is practiced without proper understanding, it could yield: 1) fear of one's death; 2) depression, and/or 3) careless/mindless living (for mistakenly believing that death simply means one would no longer be able to do indulge).

At this point, the author would like to add that, beside monks, there was one social class in history that successfully practiced mindfulness of death. They were the Japanese feudal samurai. After turning to Zen during the Kamakura Period (1185-1333), the samurai actively practiced mindfulness of death to help enable them to see life in perspective and, in effect, help them deal with suffering. The list in Japanese history is long for the samurai who were able to face their death calmly, mindfully, either at the hand of the enemy or on their deathbed. This is doubtlessly due to their lifetime of practice of mindfulness of death.

Build One's Radar System for 'the Waves Within'

The Rev W. Vajiramedhi observed in his book that, while countries spend millions setting up centres to detect possible disasters from tsunamis - or "the waves without" - no one seems to put equal efforts to detect "the waves within."

By "the waves within," the Rev W. Vajiramedhi meant the waves of anger, fear, disappointment, greed/lust, and ignorance. The ultimate advice for Buddhists is, therefore, to start building one's personal radar to watch out for the disasters within ourselves.

At the end of the day, the ability to detect a disaster within from the minute it starts to ripple would be the key to ultimately shield us from any further suffering from the disasters without. Because such ability, arisen from continuous mindfulness practice, would eventually lead us to Enlightenment. Ultimately, we were affected by the tsunami because we were born. If there is no "us", there would be no suffering.

The enlightenment, quite frankly, is the final answer.

The Day Buddha Died

It was a full-moon night in the 6th month of the lunar calendar. At 400 metres above sea level, the small town in the Gangetic plain was scorching during the day with temperature reaching the high 30s. There was no rain, despite the fact that it was in the middle of a monsoon season.

Photo courtesy of Bangkok Post

At nightfall, there was a calm hush where 500 Enlightened men gathered just outside Kusinara. Summer night's wind breezed past sadly as if to say its final farewell. Around the men, sala trees wept their young, white petals on to the sandy soil that was moisturized by night dew.

It was the day Lord Buddha would die.

Last words: Life's summary chapter

Fast forward to the 21st century. In bookstores and on websites all over the world, we see countless volumes of famous - and not-so-famous - people's last words. From the words uttered by someone about to be beheaded on a guillotine to whispers of dying leaders in the comfort of their deathbed. Chinese sages, Japanese feudal warriors, European philosophers, American writers; a startling number of people in history seemed to have wanted to say something before they departed.

For most quotes that made it to print, they seem to share one thing in common. It is a summary of life's learning. It does not have to be dramatic, or poetic, for that matter. For real wisdom of life tends to present itself in its simplest form. When someone's time is running out, and they know it, it is more likely to be something that comes out in the spur of the moment, almost as an afterthought. Few, we may assume, would bother to edit the rhymes in those words.

Why are we drawn to read such words with great enthusiasm, then? Answers could vary. Many probably read out of curiosity, some might do just for the sheer entertainment factor. Yet, there are presumably others who are determined to learn something out of the people who passed, recognising the undeniable wisdom of life at the most crucial moment. For it goes without saying that, when facing our own death, we would be able to see life in its practical perspective.

The importance of Lord Buddha's last words

Yet, while we take pleasure from reading the last words of people from all walks of life, trying to visualise what the person was like when they were living and theorising about their state of mind when they were about to go, has it ever occurred to us that we should pay special attention to the last words of the Enlightened One?

Two thousand, five hundred and fifty-one years after that fateful day, with the advent of modern science, researchers interested in Lord Buddha's death seem to be more preoccupied with what exactly Lord Buddha ate in his last meal (was it pork or mushroom?), what exactly the illness that took his life was, or what materials were used in the cloth used to wrap his body. Less and less emphasis is put on the attempt to understand what Lord Buddha intentionally left behind as his last words. Even less is the attempt to live the life according to those last words.

Lord Buddha, after all, was a Great Teacher. Until today, he is our Spiritual Father, someone who decided to preach and help the rest of us out of suffering despite the realisation that it was not going to be easy on him. With a heart full of loving kindness, Lord Buddha sacrificed his whole life, spending every day and night teaching, sleeping only two hours a day.

Why so little rest? Maybe because he knew that he wouldn't be returning ever again in another rebirth. Yet there are so many suffered beings desperately seeking liberation. Therefore, it became his habit to turn every deed into a teaching opportunity. When he was in a forest, he used a handful of leaves to teach dhamma to the monks that were following him. When he was sitting by a river, he used floating logs as a metaphor.

Naturally, lying on his deathbed, Lord Buddha made sure he used the occasion to leave a lasting lesson. Once a teacher always a teacher, goes one saying. In fact, one can even argue that Lord Buddha's last words seem to sum up his entire teaching.

What are they?

Understanding Lord Buddha's last words

"...Vaya dhamma sankara,

Appama dena sampadetha..."

Literally, those Pali words mean "...All components are subject to decay, do accomplish all your duties with mindfulness..."

In its literal sense, the words may not mean much to those unfamiliar with Buddhism or those who have yet to experience mindfulness practice. That is why most of us could not grasp its high value. But if you have practiced mindfulness, you would be truly moved by the last words deliberately uttered by a dying man who was lying modestly on Earth. He was talking to us, for our own benefits. For he knew that if anyone pays enough attention to the words uttered in the context of his death and act accordingly, they, too, would be able to bring themselves out of suffering.

Basically, Lord Buddha wanted to use his own deteriorating body as an educational medium, using the first half of his last words to reinforce his teaching on the Law of Impermanence. The latter half provides us with how we could get out of suffering - by practicing mindfulness in everything we do and also to give it a full effort so that one day we, too, will be fully liberated.

In the context of the present situation in Thailand

Lord Buddha's last words are applicable to all types of suffering, not just for the ultimate big picture of getting ourselves out of this samsara. At the very basic level, if we diligently apply mindfulness in everything we think, say and do, we will be able to understand and conquer our everyday suffering.

But if we still do not take heed of Lord Buddha's last words and neglect to make an attempt to at least understand what he meant by "mindfulness", then, his last words uttered out of loving kindness to us all would have been in vain. It would not be only the death of the historical Buddha, but also of the Buddha-nature inside each and everyone of us as well.

When we fail to pay attention to our Spiritual Father's last words and act accordingly, do we still have the nerve to call ourselves Buddhists? Likewise, if we fail to listen to HM the King's constant reminder to us to be mindful and have loving kindness towards one another, do we still have the nerve to call ourselves Thai? Instead of paying attention to what colour HM the King is wearing today, isn't it better to try to understand what he repeatedly tries to say to us and act accordingly?

Kusinara is now without Lord Buddha. The place where he died has become a gloomy archaeological site. It looks rundown and empty, except for occasional groups of tourists. There, the sala trees stood sadly under a scorching sun, quietly weeping, mourning the past that can never return. What should we do in response to our Spiritual Father's final reminder, then? By accomplishing our duties with mindfulness, of course.