Tuesday, May 26, 2009

Mama Tara's House of BBQ



Recently I watched a pretty good film- Zen Noir, which is a takeoff on the film noir genre of movies. This movie has, like all film noir movies, a private detective, trenchcoat and .38 revolver and all, a lost love of the detective's, and what at first appears to be a murder. However, it goes on from there into a commentary on Zen Buddhism. Actually, students of Zen will recognize common questions and riddles that they probably encountered in their own practice. So as time goes on, various questions are answered, but we never learn the detective's name. Zen has often used seeming nonsense to strip away layers of analysis and thought, and bring the student to a state of initial understanding- this is difficult to describe, but a good analogy I've encountered is a mirror- the mind of a Zen student should be like a mirror- the mirror simply reflects, and does not choose or pass any judgement on what it sees. However, in order to come to such a state, the student needs to remove countless layers of perception and analysis. The film reminded me of a koan I once studied- (A koan is a term for a riddle presented to Zen students- they have to 'solve' the puzzle, or give an answer. Students have spent years on single koans- the more I study them, the more I find layers of meaning in them, too) But this is one of my favorites-



Nansen saw the monks of the eastern and western halls fighting over a cat. He seized the cat and told the monks: `If any of you say a good word, you can save the cat.'No one answered. So Nansen boldly cut the cat in two pieces.That evening Joshu returned and Nansen told him about this. Joshu removed his sandals and, placing them on his head, walked out.
Nansen said: `If you had been there, you could have saved the cat.'



In this story we have the cat- don't worry, the cat wasn't really cut in two- that's just an analogy, it's not common Buddhist practice to go cutting animals in half. The "good word" Nansen asks for is also called a "turning word", and means a word, gesture or action that demonstrates understanding and at the same time communicates that understanding to everyone else- Joshu's sandals, for instance. The cat is just an example here- what the two halls of monks are arguing about is the nature of the cat- what is its nature? Let's say, West Hall says "the cat is A, but not B". But East Hall says, "No, the cat is B but not A". So in comes Nansen, and notes that because of this disagreement, the cat is already in two pieces. Actually, neither of the halls are correct- to say something is and is not is not considered a useful practice in Zen. So Nansen here is really asking- does anyone have understanding enough to get past "this and that" and tell me the true nature of our feline friend?" Probably the monks were too busy trying to disprove the other (debate remains to this day a lively practice in Buddhist schools of all stripes) that they were too busy to simply see that the cat is. True Zen understanding would end at "cat". No more, no less. Again, this is difficult to explain. However, the cat is already cut in two pieces, as it were. Nansen did not need to do anything except reveal this fact to the monks.

Now in comes Joshu, who appears frequently in Chinese koans. I always pictured him as a tall, kind of goofy-looking guy with a perpetual dumb grin on his face. But he always seems to find the heart of the matter. In this case, he simply answers Nansen's question- here's my understanding. Bye! This is an interesting common thread- the response often seems at first glance strange or completely unrelated, but deeper examination shows that in the sense (or lack thereof) of Zen, the answer rings true.

However, my school is Mahayana, not Zen. But at the end of the day, I guess we're all on the same page. There are a wide variety of Buddhas in Mahayana, and it's the Mahayanas that produce much of the Buddhist art you see around. My particular Buddha is Tara, or more specifically, Green Tara. There are 21 manifestations of the same gal, who is considered the mother of Buddhas. Not literally, as the Buddhas are not really identified as being born or dying- they're just kind of there. Tara, so the story goes, was created from a tear of Chenrezig, a male Buddha who has a thousand arms. The reason being, he is then able to help all living beings, but not even his thousand hands could manage. So, seeing the incredible scale of the work he needed to do, he shed a tear in despair- from this tear a lotus grew, and on that lotus was Tara. I'm also told this particular deity dates back to the shaman cults of Tibet, which existed prior to the introduction of Buddhism- Tara became a Buddha, whereas prior to this she was a snake goddess. I've heard the term, but have never really been able to determine what a snake goddess is or does. But long story short, she became Tara Drolma in Tibet and the Himalayas, meaning roughly "Mama Tara". In other words, she is able to watch your back, and respond quickly to anyone who calls on her. This gets into the question of what do you need a god for? To bail you out? Well, experience tells that this doesn't happen- as you sow, so shall you reap, or something like that. But again, technically Buddhas are not gods- they are Buddhas. Most of the Buddhas are largely symbolic- students try to embrace and embody the characteristics of the Buddhas. In Tara's case, selfless service and compassion. This is another interesting point- compassion vs. pity. Compassion is not the same as pity- pity says, "oh, you poor creature, down there in the dirt! I feel sorry for you!", whereas compassion says, "You creature in the dirt, take my hand and let me help pull you up- you belong upright, embracing your full potential! That which can walk should not be made to crawl." And apart from many diverse elements, this is the core of what Buddha actually taught and meant. Now go drink your tea!

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