Enlightenment Guaranteed

The Only Book on Zen You'll

Ever Need

Rev. Gary P. Cocciolillo

Email: gcocciolillo@comcast.net
Copyright © 2015 Gary P. Cocciolillo
Email: gcocciolillo@comcast.net
All rights reserved.
ISBN:
ISBN-13: 978-1508438465
DEDICATION

Lucille Cocciolillo
 CONTENTS

Chapter One: Driving on Ice

Chapter Two: No Pain, No Gain
Chapter Three: Live Free or Die
Chapter Four: The Zen of Sasquatch
Chapter Five: The Master of Reality
Chapter Six: Meditation
Chapter Seven: How Can I Help?
Chapter Eight: The Five Precepts
Chapter Nine: A Man Without a Sangha
Chapter Ten: The Heart of the Matter
Chapter Eleven: A Monk Without Robes
Chapter Twelve: Who, Me?
Chapter Thirteen: Beyond Life and Death
Chapter Fourteen: Breaking the Cycle
Chapter Fifteen: The Greatest
Amusement Park
Chapter Sixteen: What the…?
Chapter Seventeen: The Poetry of Zen
Chapter Eighteen: The Solution
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

Keith O’Shaughnessy
Jonson Miller
Andre Doshim Halaw
Trime Lhamo
Kelly Correia
 Chapter One:
Driving on Ice

This book will teach you EVERYTHING you need to

know, which is NOTHING. By the time you finish
reading this book, nothing will have changed, yet
everything will be different. What will have changed is
nothingness itself.
A harsh New Jersey winter inspired me to write this
book. One day I was driving through a heavy snow. I
noticed a sharp bend in the road approaching. I slammed
on the brakes, and let go of the wheel. I closed my eyes,
then took a deep breath and raised my hands in the air.
The uncontrollable swerve of my car threw my body
from side to side. The cold air stung my face. The
sound of the engine mixed with the wind. In that
moment, the fear of death did not haunt me. I felt the
thrill of being alive and not knowing what the next
second would bring. At precisely this moment, my car
straightened itself out. I placed my hands back on the
wheel and continued on my way.
What does any of this have to do with Zen? Everything
and nothing. The Diamond Sutra says, “The Buddha
declares that all these molecules are not really such; they
are called ‘molecules’; furthermore, the Buddha declares
that the world is not really a world; it is merely called a
world.”
What is Zen? Some teachers will say Zen is the practice
of understanding yourself, while others will give the
literal definition of Zen, which is meditation. My opinion
is that Zen is the art of living; it requires finesse,
skillfulness, mindfulness, and more. It is like driving on
ice, fearlessly; it is letting go of the wheel and embracing
the moment. It is full awareness and acceptance—a state
beyond mortality. When the Zen Master lets go of the
wheel, he is not throwing up his hands for fate to take
over. He is using right perception, right concentration,
right mindfulness, and right action to know when to let
go and when to take the wheel back. The master of Zen
knows everything because he knows nothing. He has
transcended intellectual knowledge. He has risen above
the world of dualities.
Do you think the Zen master learned his skills by simply
sitting on a meditation cushion? We learn Zen by
engaging life. The first time I attended a Zen Sangha, the
Dharma teacher said, “When you see a skunk, run.” It’s
that simple. There is no thought involved. Most of us are
practicing Zen without realizing it. We react to situations
all day long without thinking about them. Zen is not
some far remote transcendental state of bliss; it is getting
our hands dirty with the grime of everyday life. Life is
fine the way it is; we cannot escape it, and there is no
retreat. Life is temporary. Embrace it, savor it, and
experience it to the fullest.
In this moment, everything is perfect as it is. In this
moment, I am breathing in and out, with a stomach filled
with muffins, drinking my tea in front of my computer.
When you search for Zen, you will not find it. When you
try to be Zen, you are no longer Zen. When you try to
grasp Zen, there is nothing there.
What is the sound of Zen? Whatever you are hearing.
 Chapter Two:
No Pain, No Gain

The day I wake up feeling no pain is the day I know I

am in trouble. Why? Because it probably means I am
dead. I savor every second that I trudge my way
through this life of pain and agony. From the time I
awake, I enjoy the ache in my bones, the sting of bitter
cold hitting my face, and even the burning sensation
when I urinate. Then I go to work, where I am degraded
by boss and customer alike. By the end of the day my
mind is strained and numb, and my body is tired and
hungry. I go home and my wife asks me to go grocery
shopping. The Buddha was right when he said, “Life is
suffering.”
The foundations of the Buddha’s teaching are the Four
Noble Truths. Truth number one: life entails suffering.
This does not mean that life is ONLY suffering.
However, it does mean if you are alive you are going to
experience pain. He determined that the cause of all
suffering is in our minds, and primarily caused by
ignorance and craving. Can you believe that the Buddha
is calling you ignorant? You’re no fool. On the other
hand, are you? Most of life is based on getting what we
want and escaping what we don’t want. This is the
ignorance and craving that the Buddha spoke of. It’s not
mysticism, just plain common sense.
The harder we try to end suffering, the more we create
it. Much like a wrestling match in a barbed wired ring.
When the wrestler is tangled in the barbed wire, the
harder he fights to escape, the more he grows entangled,
and the more he bleeds.
And yet the match itself is only a show, not real.
Liberation from suffering is knowing that life is just a
show broadcast by the Mind. Ignorance believes the
show is real. Liberation is being able to sit back and
enjoy the show for what it really is—a show, nothing
more.
But the big question is: how do we get there? Here is my
personal story that may shine a light on this deep
mystery. Many eons ago, I was a dramatic young man
trying to survive, and not doing a very good job of it. I
was married for seven years until one day my wife
walked out of my life. I was forced to move back in
with my parents. My heart was broken. The world was
filled with darkness and despair. My life was over. I felt
only sorrow and misery. I was certain I would never feel
happiness again. I wrote poems about heartache and
death. I played songs that could make Johnny Cash cry
in his beer. The sky was dark, the earth was dead, and
this world became a sea of pain. Life wasn’t fair, and
nothing ever went my way. I hated everything and
wanted to die.
Then one evening I was with my friend Ted playing the
blues on guitar. We were taking a break to smoke and eat
pizza. I was whining about my wife again. Ted looked at
me and said, “Embrace the pain. Allow it to wash over
you. Let it engulf you. Drown yourself in it. The pain
makes great music, and you'll be able to let it go.”
Later that night, I took Ted’s advice. Sitting in my room
alone, I took a deep breath and allowed the pain to wash
over me. The following day, the sun was bright and I
felt alive again, ready to take on the world—at least for
that moment, anyway.
I knew nothing about Buddhism back then, and yet I
was doing exactly what the Buddha had done over two
thousand years ago. And the results followed. The
Buddha sought to find a cure for his suffering, and after
years of ascetic practices he gave up and sat under the
Bodhi tree. There he embraced everything just as it is
and realized the truth, which we call Dharma. My
realization was small compared to the Buddha’s.
However, the process was the same.
Be still, watch the mind, and let go.
The Four Noble truths the Buddha laid down as the
foundation of all his teaching are:
1. Life has dukkha (suffering and dis-ease).
2. There is a cause for dukkha (ignorance and craving).
3. There is a path out of Dukkha.
4. The path out of suffering is the Eightfold Path.
 Chapter Three:
Live Free or Die

You awaken in a dark dungeon. As your eyes grow more

focused, you see a giant serpent slithering towards you,
its deadly fangs dripping with poison. It is hungry, ready
to attack. Your heart beats rapidly. Your breathing
becomes short and fast. Just as it gathers itself to strike,
the door opens slightly, and a shaft of light reveals that in
fact you have only accidentally locked yourself in a tool
shed, and the serpent is only a garden hose. As human
beings, we are always mistaking garden hoses for
snakes.
The Eightfold Path is the key that opens the door to
realization of the truth. The Eightfold Path is commonly
translated as right view, right intention, right speech,
right action, right livelihood, right effort, right
mindfulness, and right concentration. These steps are
meant to be viewed as a whole. For example, if you
focus only on practicing right speech, you will also need
to practice right intention and use right action, because
speaking is an action, which requires an intention.
Obviously, the path can be viewed as a guide for living.
With the wisdom it imparts, right action always yields
the right results. Once again, nothing mysterious here;
the foundation the Buddha laid out is very pragmatic.
Life has suffering, and the way out of suffering is doing
the right thing.
Right concentration. Right concentration—i.e.,
meditation—is one of the keys that can open the door. I
emphasize one key, because there is more than one key
and more than one door. How many are there? I don’t
know. Different sects of Buddhism focus on different
combinations of the eightfold path. Furthermore, there
are countless other spiritual and religious methods to
choose from. Each has its own individual door and key.
Meditating twenty minutes a day is helpful and
sometimes life-changing. A large part of this book is
dedicated to meditation. I will be covering it in more
detail later on.
Right view. Right view is seeing things the way they
really are. Perspective is important in everyday life. We
need to identify a situation or problem clearly before we
can figure out how to resolve it. It is our mind that
processes what we perceive. It uses the information
from the five senses and tries to build a reality from it
that is logical. If a person cannot perceive an object or
event, does that mean it does not exist? There is much
more to right view than just what we see, hear, touch,
taste, and smell with our five senses. We can’t see
ultraviolet light; however, it is still there. We can’t hear
radio frequencies without a radio, yet they are still all
around us. A great way to start practicing right view is
to look into the nature of things. Take, for example, a
car. It began as ore in the ground that had to be mined,
and smelted. Then an engineer had to design the car, and
a factory worker had to build it, just as boats and trucks
had to be built to ship it. A human being is another
example. For you to exist, your parents had to meet,
their parents had to meet, and so on. Stars had to
explode to create the heavy elements that make up your
body. Just look up at the stars and feel the vastness of
the universe that is you. The point is that reality is fluid,
constantly changing, and nothing exists in and of itself.
Reality appears solid to us, but it is not.
Right intention. We would all like to think our
intentions are good. Often people believe their intentions
are good, but the results are bad. Here is a good
example: my friend has a brother who is a drug addict.
He spends all of his money on drugs and then he calls
his brother for more money to pay his rent. My friend
gives him money because he doesn’t want to see his
brother homeless. However, if he uses that money to
buy more drugs and overdoses, then my friend's brother
will die, and my friend will feel guilty. Obviously, not
giving his brother the money is the correct thing to do.
However, it is also clear that giving his brother money is
generous and good. Doing the good thing is not always
the right thing. Zen calls the ability to distinguish
between the two upaya, which means skillful means.
Right action. Right action is the result of right intention,
which is a result of right view. This is a natural, logical
order for us to take. Perhaps right action can lead to
right intention, which can result in right view. There are
myriad ways the Eightfold Path can be used. At the first
Dharma talk I heard, my Zen teacher Andre Doshim
Halaw told this story:
“It was a dark, eerie night, the clouds loomed above in
the sky, and the moon was full. Dogs howled in the
distance, and a sense of foreboding fear gripped my
soul. I heard something rustling in the bushes. I turned
to see what it was. Suddenly, a skunk ran from behind
the bush! It stared into my eyes, and without a second
thought, I ran back into the house and closed the door.”
Right action is what you do when you see a skunk. You
don’t think; you just run.
Right speech. Right speech is simple. Be aware of how
your speech affects others. Speech is also an action; I
like to use right speech as a mindfulness practice. I try
to pay attention to every word I say, and see how it
affects others. Right action doesn’t always require
another person, but speech does. This concerns how we
relate to others in our personal relationships. Right
speech is how we interact with our wives, husbands,
children, and co-workers. Right speech can be as simple
as saying “Thank you,” “You’re welcome,” and “I love
you,” or even giving a smile. Simple gestures of
kindness can make a big difference in another person’s
life.
Right livelihood is how we interact with a community,
expanding out from personal relationships. We see the
word “livelihood” and naturally we think about our
careers. That is correct. What we do for a living has an
effect on the world and possibly beyond. Doctors,
nurses, social workers—even garbage men, gas
attendants, cashiers, and waitresses—are all practicing
right livelihood. Most of us are practicing right livelihood
simply because we are part of the human ecosystem.
Right effort is what we strive toward. I admit that I
have had problems separating effort with action. The
distinction between the two is subtle. Action is at the
present moment, whereas effort requires planning. If
you plan to become the President of the United States of
America and the leader of the free world so you can free
all people from suffering, that is right effort. If you see a
car speeding towards an old lady crossing the street and
you rush to save her without thinking about it, that is
right action. Right effort is planning a birthday party,
buying a gift, and setting the alarm clock to get up for
work.
Last comes right mindfulness, also known as
awareness. What is the difference between awareness
and perception? Before we perceive or identify
something, we first become aware of it. For example,
you’re stranded on a long desert highway. The sun’s
rays are beating down on you. You’re dehydrated,
exhausted; the sweat is pouring from your brow. The
horizon is empty for miles. A speck appears in the
distance, but you cannot tell if it is a car on its way to
your rescue or a pack of hungry coyotes coming to
feast on your flesh. It is just a speck, which is
awareness. When the speck becomes speculation, it is
delusion. When we are able to read the words “Poland
Spring Water” on the approaching truck, we have a
perception. Mindfulness or awareness is when a speck is
just a speck—nothing beyond itself. Just this as things
are right now is correct mindfulness. Guessing what
things are now or what will happen in the future, or even
dwelling on the past, are not mindfulness, but only
delusions. Remember the hose that was mistaken for a
snake?
The Eightfold Path is an examination of how we think
and act. It is not an intellectual pursuit or a moral code
of ethics. Meditation is one of the keys we use to open
the tool shed, allowing the light to shine into the darkest
recesses of the mind, illuminating everything, resulting in
right view. Once we have right view, right speech, right
livelihood, right effort, right intention, and right action,
everything falls into place automatically, like the pieces
of a puzzle. Then we have to let go of the puzzle entirely
because there is no puzzle, and no path, and no self to
begin with. Buddhism is sometimes referred to as the
pathless path. Words are used as pointers, but they
cannot teach us that which is beyond words. The Four
Noble Truths and the Eightfold Path point the way and
relieve suffering, but they are not to be confused with
The Way. This is where Zen begins.
“The presence of words in the mouth ends. The
conditioned
deliberation of the mind vanishes. Thus is ‘like this.’ The
wordless teaching instructs one to investigate meditation
and sit
in meditation.” –The Diamond Sutra (commentary by
Hsuan Hua)
 Chapter Four:
The Zen of Sasquatch

Then the Buddha asked Subhuti, "What do you think,

Subhuti—has the Buddha arrived at the highest, most
fulfilled, most awakened and enlightened mind? Does the
Buddha teach any teaching?"
Subhuti replied, "As far as I have understood the lord
Buddha's teachings, there is no independently existing
object of mind called the highest, most fulfilled,
awakened or enlightened mind. Nor is there any
independently existing teaching that the Buddha teaches.
Why? Because the teachings that the Buddha has
realized and spoken of cannot be conceived of as
separate, independent things and therefore cannot be
described. The truth in them is uncontainable and
inexpressible. It neither is, nor is it not. What does this
mean? What this means is that Buddha and the disciples
are not enlightened by a set method of teachings, but by
an internal intuitive process which is spontaneous and is
part of their own inner nature." –The Diamond Sutra
How can you know that you don’t know? If you know
what you don’t know, then you no longer don’t know.
Do you know what I am talking about? If you do, then
you have lost what Zen masters the don’t-know mind.
Take everything I just talked about in the last three
chapters and throw it all away. Don’t cling to the Four
Noble Truths or the Eightfold Path. They are pointers.
As the old Buddhist adage goes, “Do not mistake the
finger that is pointing at the moon, for the moon itself.”
Studying the Buddha’s words can take us only so far; to
understand his teachings, we need to move beyond
words, concepts, names—beyond thinking altogether. It
can only be acquired through mind-to-mind transmission
or direct perception.
Before I can go further, a brief history of Zen is
necessary. This will be the shortest summary of Zen you
will ever read. One day, the Buddha sat down to give a
Dharma talk to a great gathering of monks. However, the
Buddha did not speak; he just sat there, and the monks
waited. Finally, the Buddha held up a flower. The monks
didn’t know how to respond. A monk named
Mahakasyapa saw the flower and smiled. This was the
first mind-to-mind transmission of Dharma, and
Mahakasyapa became the first patriarch after the Buddha
passed away. Ever since then, each patriarch has had a
successor. One of the most famous is Bodhidharma,
who left India and traveled to China, where Zen
developed. He also had successors; each one received
mind-to-mind transmission. This all sounds very
mysterious—even psychedelic—like telepathy. However,
mind-to-mind transmission only means that the student
and teacher share the same understanding.
In China, a School of Zen formed. It was the Mind Only
or One Mind School. What is mind? Perhaps a better
question to ask is, what is not mind? How can you
comprehend anything that is outside of the mind’s
grasp? The answer is simple. You have to go beyond the
limits of the mind. A Zen master is able to teach things
that are beyond the grasp of the mind, because to
understand it, we need to move beyond it. As Einstein
once remarked, “You can’t solve a problem with the
same thinking that created it.” Zen exists outside
common understanding. The don’t know mind doesn’t
know, or think. It just is.
Consider the riddle of Sasquatch. People have wondered
for generations whether Bigfoot exists. We have
sightings, we have tracks, and we have unexplainable
DNA. There are video clips and photographs, but still we
do not know if he is truly real. As long as there is a
possibility, people will continue to search for Bigfoot. It
is an uncontrollable curiosity that keeps us searching the
forests for an elusive creature that may not even be real.
But it is still possible because there is no way to dismiss
the existence of Bigfoot. When we don’t know
something, the possibilities are endless. Keeping an open
mind to learning is the beginning of don’t know mind.
Total don’t know mind is beyond words and can be
known only by direct experience, like seeing a Bigfoot
with your own eyes.
Conversely, do you know Mr. Know-It-All? We all know
him, and most of us avoid him. He talks and talks and
talks endlessly. He is an expert on all topics, from
knitting to quantum physics. But the truth is, he only
thinks he knows everything. In reality, he doesn’t know.
His mind is filled with information, not wisdom. He is
unable to understand anything that does not fit his model
of the universe. He has a tunnel view of the world that is
limited to only what he knows, preventing him from
experiencing the feeling of unbounded possibilities.
When we use don’t know mind, our view of the world
expands, and we begin to recognize its infinite vastness.
The awareness is like a balloon, and don’t know is the air
that causes it to expand. When we are receptive to the
teachings and the practices that the Buddha taught,
awareness grows naturally without effort. The further
our awareness develops, the more questions arise. It is
like pouring water on a seed, causing the seed to grow
into a lotus. Don’t know is clear mind, the before-
thinking mind, the space between thoughts. Here, there
is no self and other, no perceiver and object to be
perceived. There is only thus-ness.
 Chapter Five:
The Master of Reality

What is real? Are your thoughts real? Is the past real? Is

the future real? Is the chair I am sitting in real? To know
something is real, we must prove it exists and has
always existed in the same form. Everything that we
know will ultimately become a casualty of change. All
things erode over time. Rivers and tides wash the earth
away. All of humankind’s greatest structures will one
day fall. Countries and leaders come and go. New
scientific discoveries will replace old ones. A human life
is an instant in the lifespan of the universe. The last thing
the Buddha said before he passed was, "Behold, O
monks, this is my last advice to you. All component
things in the world are changeable. They are not lasting.
Work hard to gain your own salvation.” What, then, is
salvation? It is don’t know mind, the clear awareness
between thoughts.
If you have ever studied science, then you know that the
universe and all the matter contained within it are in a
state of constant flux. You also know that nothing exists
in and of itself; everything is dependent upon a set of
circumstances and materials. Take human beings for
example. They are made of heavy elements. All heavy
elements are the result of a supernova. The table I am
using to write this book on is made of countless atoms
and molecules dancing with each other, but somehow
the table appears to be solid and functions as if it's solid.
However, on an atomic level, it is not; it is mostly empty
space.
As human beings, we do not like change. Most of us
don’t like being dependent on others and circumstances
outside of ourselves. However, we have no choice. We
depend on the farmer for our food. The farmer depends
on the weather, and, in turn, the ocean currents and
atmospheric conditions that cause it. Being
interdependent in an impermanent world causes us to
feel anxiety, suffering, and what the Buddha called
dukkha. This is the way of the world, my friends. All it
takes is a single roll of the dice and life will never be the
same again. All we have to do is make one small mistake
when driving on ice and our lives, as well as the lives of
our family members, are changed forever. We fear losing
our jobs because then we may not be able to care for
our families. We fear losing the people we love. The
delusion of permanence and independence are the basis
of our grasping and craving. This is what the Buddha
called the world of Samsara, the endless cycle of birth,
death, and delusion. If we could only have enough
control over our environment to keep us safe from harm
for eternity then we would be content. Is that asking too
much?
Once we are able to look past our expectations of how
we think life should be, and begin examining and
accepting the truth, a window of insight begins to open.
We stop looking forward and backward, and realize that
we already have everything we need at this particular
moment. Even this moment is gone by the time we
notice it, and a new one has already begun. We are now
flipping the coin over to the brighter side of
impermanence and interdependence. For instance,
nothing is real except for this moment, which is gone
before we know it. Therefore, there is no need to take it
too seriously. Second, everything is changing. If your
current situation is unfortunate, it will change.
Furthermore, you have everything you need in this
moment. This point cannot be overemphasized. The
knowledge that everything is unfolding as it should, even
when my mind thinks otherwise, is a great relief, and
results in my having the freedom to make difficult
decisions without being overwhelmed with anxiety. Life
is good, and it is short, so why waste it being worried
about the past or what may or may not happen in the
future? Enjoy the present moment.
Zen is not some great escape from the stresses of life. It
is being calm in the turmoil and unpredictability of them.
A Zen master can nap serenely when in the eye of a
hurricane, leaving the pandemonium in the past, not
concerning himself with the destruction that is sure to
come in the future. He is able to rest easy in the present
moment. Becoming a master of Zen is not something
that takes a lifetime to achieve. It does not take an
immense amount of good karma or sacrifice. All it
requires is the openness and willingness to rest in the
clear, natural essence of “mind” that you already
possess. The harder you work toward it, the further
away it will be. The more you grasp for it, the more
elusive it becomes. It is like a dog chasing its tail. The
effort is futile. Impermanence and interdependency are
the waves that sway our direction on the tides of
existence.
So stop fighting the swells and let yourself float
naturally. The mind only receives and interprets
information to create a reality it can understand;
however, that reality is not absolute. When the mind is
not busy processing data, what is left? Most of the time,
it searches for more data to continue the grand delusion
of self and the world outside of it. The Buddha
discovered another aspect of mind, a mind that is clear,
vast, and infinite. A mind that cannot be tainted by
delusion, an absolute mind that goes beyond the
perceptions of sight, smell, taste, touch, and sound. A
mind that is beyond thinking, where there are no
concepts, no perception, no judgment. The mind that is
unpolluted. This mind has many names, such as
Nirvana, Emptiness, Dharmakaya, and the Enlightened
Mind. The first teaching of the Buddha was, “Don’t
believe what I teach. Question and test everything I say.
Discover the truth for yourself.” The method he used to
come to his own realization of the absolute, pure nature
of mind is meditation. After all, the word “Zen” means
meditation in English.
 Chapter Six:
Meditation

When most people first hear the words “Buddhism” or

“Zen,” they envision monks sitting cross-legged in a
monastery meditating. Tendrils of smoke curl up from
sticks of incense, permeating the lavish temple walls
with frankincense. The temple echoes with a deep
guttural incantation of secret ancient chants that only the
initiated can comprehend. Candlelight dances on the
elaborate tapestries that hang from the walls. The monks
sit perfectly still with shaved heads, wearing saffron
robes. Their eyes half-open and half-closed, meditating
silently, exhibiting serene, expressionless faces.
In reality, meditation can be practiced in any room,
under any conditions, and sitting on any type of cushion
or chair. Incense, chanting, and even silence are not
needed. It can be practiced for a few minutes or up to a
few years at a time. You don’t have to be a Buddhist or a
monk to benefit from the practice of meditation; it can
work for anyone. There are all types of meditation out
there. There is no right or wrong way to practice. Any
type of meditation is better than no meditation at all. I am
going to cover the basics of Buddhist meditation in this
chapter. I encourage you to try it, and to try other types
as well to find what works best for you.
First is meditation posture. The most common posture is
sitting cross-legged on a cushion or floor. Sitting in a
chair with a straight back is also fine for those who
can’t get down on the floor. There are seven points to
meditation posture, which are legs, arms and hands,
back, eyes, mouth, tongue, jaw, and head. The following
is a brief description of meditation basics.
1. Sit cross-legged on the floor. Most people use
a cushion. I have used everything from bed
pillows to couch cushions. The cushion is not
going to bring you to enlightenment, so don’t
worry about it; it’s only purpose is to make you
comfortable for a period of time. There are a few
different ways of crossing your legs. I sit Native-
American Indian style. In the half-lotus, one foot
rests on your thigh, while the other foot is tucked
beneath your other thigh. Lastly, there is full-lotus,
where you rest both feet on top of your thighs. I
can spend all day in this position. When using a
chair, make sure it has a straight back and an even
cushion. The most important things are that your
back is upright, your feet are flat on the ground,
and the chair doesn’t have armrests, so your arms
can hang freely at your sides, allowing you to
place your hands comfortably on your lap.
2. Now that you are sitting, your back needs to
be straight. I see many people take this to an
extreme and sit as if they are stretching their
spines. Meditation is not yoga. No stretching is
necessary. Just sit in a comfortable and alert
position. Imagine that your spine has a string
extending beyond your body and you are held up
by it, like a marionette with an invisible line.

3. Relax your shoulders, allowing your arms to

hang naturally at your sides; then place your hands
on your lap. In Zen, the hands are held in what is
called the cosmic mudra, in which the right hand
is placed, palm up, against the belly below your
navel. Then the left hand is placed, palm up, on
top of your right hand. Finally, lightly touch the
tips of your thumbs together, forming an oval
shape with the hands and thumbs. This mudra or
hand position is by no means mandatory. You can
place your hands palms down on your lap or
palms up with the thumbs held against the index
fingers. Do what you are most comfortable with.
Just as a cushion will not make you enlightened,
neither will the position of your fingers. The only
thing I would warn against is holding your knees
and pulling yourself upright. You want to be fully
supported by your back.

4. As to head position, slightly tuck your chin in,

which naturally pushes out your chest. Tilt your
head slightly downward so you are looking about
five feet in front of you. This is to prevent your
neck from cramping up. I know a meditation
teacher who says that if someone’s head is tilted
upward, they are probably daydreaming, and if
their head is tilted too far downward, they are
sleeping. You want to be relaxed, but alert.

5. Keep your eyelids half open. Keeping the eyes

open maintains your awareness; closing them can
cause you to drift away into dreamland. Meditation
is not an escape from reality: it is awareness of
reality.

6. Your mouth and jaw should be relaxed. Don’t

clench your teeth. Allow your jaw to find a natural
resting place. Your mouth shouldn’t be hanging
wide open. Sometimes, when I have bad allergies
or a cold, I will keep my lips parted just enough to
allow me to breathe through my mouth. Don’t be
 discouraged, then, if you cannot breathe freely
through your nose.

7. Now, where to put your tongue? Keep the tip

of your tongue pressed gently against the top of
your mouth behind your two front teeth. This will
prevent you from choking on your own saliva.
Just like everything else in this posture, the tongue
should be relaxed.
Who knew that sitting could be so complicated? It's
really not. Do it right once and you will never forget
how. The seven points are a useful meditation tool for
beginners who are just learning, as well as a way for
old timers to check up on themselves from time to
time. No matter how many years I have been
practicing, I always benefit from reviewing these
basic steps for meditation.
As to the distraction of discomfort, when sitting in
meditation, if part of your body hurts, move it so you
are comfortable. If you are in pain, you will only be
thinking about the pain, which defeats the purpose of
meditation.
So, now that you know how to maintain meditation
posture, what do you do with your mind?
Once you have settled into your sitting posture and
you have all seven points down, focus on your
breath. Breathe naturally; there is no need to take long
deep breaths. Breathe easy, in and out. Be aware of
the rising and falling of your chest. Feel the cool air
flowing into your nostrils and warm air exiting them.
If you are breathing through your mouth, feel it on
your lips. Don’t think about breathing; just focus on
the fact that you are breathing. You are using your
breath as a focal point for your mind. Your breath
connects you to the present moment. You cannot be
breathing in the past or the future, only in the present,
one breath at a time. Some teachers will suggest that
you count your breaths from one to ten, then repeat
the count. I don’t recommend counting because then
you are counting breaths rather than just breathing. If
you want to count breaths, do it for a while, and then
let it go.
What should you do about all of those annoying little
thoughts that keep popping up in your mind? You
know, the ones that make you forget about your
breathing, and take you away to some faraway place?
Rule number one: don’t fight them. Just let them go
and bring your mind back to the breath. Telling
yourself not to think is thinking. That's why you just
acknowledge the thought as “thinking” and come
back to the present breath. You may find it difficult to
stay focused on your breathing. Without realizing it,
you may find that you have been planning what to
have for dinner for the last fifteen minutes, instead of
focusing on your breath, which is okay. You are
becoming acquainted with your mind for the first
time. By following this technique, you will learn what
your mind has been up to. It is funny how we go
through life without ever examining our minds and
learning how to use them, which can be
accomplished simply by sitting in meditation and
watching our thoughts pass by.
And yet that's not all you can learn from meditation;
there is much more. I know a Buddhist nun named
Ani Trime Lhamo who tells her students to look for
the gap between thoughts. The gap is the space
between thoughts where there is no thought, only
clear mind. The funny thing about the gap is that
once we are aware of it, it's gone, and merely being
aware of the gap is a new thought arising that sweeps
us away. Sometimes, we can experience the gap for a
few moments, which is an experience that is beyond
words. It is beyond the thinking mind. It is not bliss
or euphoria, but a sense of serenity and peace that
can only be experienced directly. Words are created
by the thinking mind. Therefore, we cannot express
anything beyond thinking. The gap is the don’t know
mind discussed in the previous chapter.
Just like the body, which sometimes cramps up after
sitting for a long time, the mind can grow anxious. It
can obsess over money or hurt feelings. Stress about
work and family may come to the surface of your
awareness. Your only option is to be aware of them
and let them go. Sometimes you can get drawn into
the stories that your mind is telling you. Again, don’t
fight them, and don’t beat yourself up if you get
caught up in them; just let them go. Conversely,
sometimes our minds will obsess about the things we
love, such as eating ice cream, buying a new car, or
even making love. Again, this is the mind doing its
job, keeping you out of harm’s way, and trying to
concoct new pleasurable experiences. When first
beginning meditation, you may be surprised to learn
what your mind has been up to.
Meditating is like keeping the car in neutral. The
engine that is your mind is still running, but it is not in
gear. The car is still. When you are sitting, you are
still, not going anywhere, neither coming nor going.
Let the mind run idle. Avoid putting it in gear or
applying the brake. Just listen to it hum.
 Chapter Seven:
How Can I Help?

Zen is a school of Mahayana Buddhism, which places

an emphasis on compassion, often referred to as the
Bodhisattva way. A Bodhisattva wants to become
enlightened so he or she can help others to be free
from suffering. If you believe in reincarnation, the
Bodhisattva will continue returning to the world of
suffering until all beings have been enlightened and
are free from affliction. If you don’t believe in
reincarnation, then a Bodhisattva can be anyone who
dedicates a part of their lives to helping others.
When the mind is free from fantasy and judgment,
kindness becomes natural. After all, “mind” is
clearest when it is not entangled in thoughts. The
only thing that separates us from each other is our
thoughts. Remove them and we all share the same
pure mind. It therefore makes sense that when we do
harm, it is done to everyone, because the essence of
mind is always the same, unchangeable, and beyond
its own ability to understand itself.
It is hard to envision being kind to people such as
Adolf Hitler, Osama Bin Laden, or Charles Manson,
and all the other tyrants and murderers, torturers and
sadists, among us. However, when we strip them
down and take away their beliefs and judgments,
what is left? The answer is a person with a mind,
nothing more. Every action starts with a thought. The
villains who threaten us are the ones who suffer from
the most delusions. So much so that they wreak
havoc upon those around them. There is not much
that can be done to prevent people from becoming
tyrants. The chain of events that led up to their
assumption of power is too complex to figure out. It
would be impossible to find the first domino in the
line. Nevertheless, that does not make us helpless
victims of circumstance and fate. The Dhammapada,
a book of valuable quotes from the Buddha, says,
“You are what you think. All that you are arises from
your thoughts. With your thoughts, you make your
world” (Buddha). Leave it to the Buddha to hit the
ball back into our side of the court, that side being
our minds. Kindness begins with how we use our
own minds: letting go of anger, jealousy, and
resentment, and replacing them with understanding,
compassion, and the desire to reach out and help
others.
There are two sides to kindness. One is using skillful
means to help others, and the second is not causing
harm. There are some who believe we must be kind
at any cost to ourselves. For example, if you are
walking through the thick of a jungle and find a
starving tiger trapped at the bottom of a deep pit,
some would say you should throw yourself into the
pit, sacrificing your life to feed the tiger. I personally
do not subscribe to this philosophy because after you
have sacrificed yourself to the tiger, how will you be
able to help anyone or anything else afterward? It
does not comport with the type of pragmatic logic
that the Buddha taught. Nonetheless, if you have
some extra food among your provisions, share them
with the tiger, or even better, spend a few hours
gathering branches to throw into the pit so the tiger
can climb out.
There are many practices in Buddhism for cultivating
kindness and compassion. Most usually consist of
chanting or visualization techniques. Zen takes us a
step further by allowing us to view reality from the
Absolute. All of these practices are useful and worth
trying. They will not cause harm to the practitioner or
anyone else; only good things can arise as a result of
practicing them.
The most popular of these techniques in the U.S. is
Metta Prayer, which is also called love and kindness.
I personally prefer the term Metta Practice because
there is no God or Deity who is being prayed to. The
practice helps to create Bodhichitta, which means
loving-kindness. With Metta Practice, you begin with
yourself. For example, you visualize yourself being
happy while chanting, “May I be happy.” Then you
expand outward, visualizing your family and friends.
See them in your mind’s eye, smiling and being happy
while you continue chanting, “May all my friends and
family have happiness.” Next, expand outward to
everyone you have contact with, even the people you
don’t talk to, such as the grocery clerk or perhaps
the gas station attendant. Visualize all of them being
happy while you chant, “May everyone I meet have
happiness.” Then expand further still; try to visualize
all beings in the world experiencing happiness as you
chant, “May all beings have happiness.” The last step
is to visualize the people you don’t like and all the
people who have done harm to you, or harm to
humanity. Again chant, “May all beings have
happiness.”
This is a useful practice for people who are new to
Buddhism as experienced practitioners. The results
are instantaneous. I always feel lighter after this
practice. I know a teacher who teaches Metta by
using what are called the four immeasurable
statements, which are:
May all sentient beings have happiness and its
causes.
May all sentient beings be free of suffering and
its causes.
May all sentient beings never be separated from
bliss without suffering.
May all sentient beings be in equanimity, free of
bias, attachment, and anger.
Tonglen is another practice that helps to produce
bodhichitta. It is simple to practice and extremely
effective. With tonglen, you visualize someone who
you know is suffering, or perhaps a group of people
—even the entire world. You hold their image in your
mind’s eye. Visualize their affliction as thick black
smog dissolving around them. Now envision yourself
inhaling the smog. You are taking their suffering into
yourself so you can transform it into an energy that is
positive and healing. Next, picture yourself exhaling
light or a white purified mist, sending it back to the
person, or persons, to heal them.
There are other practices, too, such as sitting in
meditation posture while chanting “Kwan-sum-
Bosal,” which is another name for the Bodhisattva
Avalokitesvara, the Bodhisattva of Compassion. She
is a Buddhist version of a saint. All of these practices
bring us back to where compassion begins, which is
the mind. Whatever starts in the mind eventually will
manifest in the world, which we call reality. After
you try these practices, you may find yourself
offering to carry an old woman's groceries without
thinking about it. Instantaneous kindness and
compassion are what we are striving towards.
A Zen master, meanwhile, will teach you how to view
the world from a different perspective using koans,
which I will talk more about in a later chapter.
Meanwhile, the following chapter contains a brief
explanation of how compassion fits into Zen practice.
The Zen master will use a tool called the Zen circle. It
consists of five points; each point is symbolic of a
different view of reality. It begins at 0-90 degrees;
this is the relative view from which we see our daily
lives. Next comes 90-180 degrees; this is where we
realize that our mind is creating our world and our
perception of self. At 180-270 degrees, we move
beyond thinking we are individual and realize that we
are a part of a whole. This is the Absolute view; there
is no difference between my mind and the mind of
someone else. From this view, compassion naturally
arises. If I hurt someone else, I am also hurting
myself; if I am helping someone else, I am also
helping myself. Therefore, causing harm defies logic
and helping others makes perfect sense. For many of
us, this state is a revelation. Than at the 360-degree
point it is the same as 0, but even the circle itself no
longer exists.
 Chapter Eight:
The Five Precepts

In Buddhism, there are precepts or vows that help us

to become mindful of our behavior. They are not
commandments, and there is no price to pay for
breaking them. Following them is just another step in
developing awareness; it's the way to take what we
learn during meditation into our everyday lives. The
first five precepts are for everyone; you don’t need to
be a monastic or on the path to being a monastic to
practice them. Here they are:
1. I undertake the training rule to abstain
from killing.
2. I undertake the training rule to abstain
from taking what is not given.
3. I undertake the training rule to avoid
sexual misconduct.
4. I undertake the training rule to abstain
from false speech
5. I undertake the training rule to abstain
from fermented drink that causes heedlessness.
The first precept sounds simple: don’t kill. But
committing murder is not the only way one can cause
the death of another. For example, throwing change
out your car window at another driver can crack a
windshield, causing an accident, which in turn may
result in death. Making an obscene gesture at another
driver who has great suffering in their lives could the
final provocation they need to jump off a bridge. If
you are tailgating and the car in front of you stops
suddenly, either one of you could be killed in the
crash. Driving is a highly dangerous activity that
most of us participate in every day, and rarely, if ever,
with malice. Still, if we are not mindful at all times,
even our carelessness can lead to fatality.
The second precept sounds equally straightforward:
don’t steal. Most of us are not burglars and are past
the age of childhood shoplifting sprees. But stealing
isn’t limited to bank robbery or grand theft auto, any
more than killing is limited to murder with criminal
intent. Being late for dinner is stealing someone else’s
time. Leaving work early or showing up late may
seem innocent enough, but when we do so, really we
are stealing from our employer. Even accepting extra
change from a cashier when you know that they gave
you too much is a way of taking what is not yours to
take. By not stealing, conversely, we earn trust and
respect from others.
The third precept prohibits us from engaging in
sexual misconduct. As long as relationships are
consensual and harm is done to neither party, the
precept is honored. Only the offenses of rape,
pedophilia, or betrayal in a committed relationship
violate it. As an exercise in mindfulness, it can be
very enlightening to meditate and see how much time
the mind spends thinking about lust. This is part of
being human, but you can be aware of the fact that
your mind spends a lot of time thinking about lust
without indulging in obsessive thoughts or impulsive
acts.
The precept of abstaining from false speech is one
that most of us break all the time. We all love juicy
gossip or the opportunity to tell a good tale. Both are
entertaining. Yet, it is hurtful to call someone stupid,
for example, because doing so can affect how they
view themselves for the rest of their lives. People
have taken their own lives because of uncouth
Facebook postings. As a mindfulness exercise, pay
attention to how often you speak ill of others. We can
become more aware of the power that words have,
and make an effort to change the way we use them.
As to the fifth precept, here again the meaning is not
as simple as it first appears. Clearly, we are meant to
abstain from obvious intoxicants like alcohol and
drugs. But watch about bingeing on food, television,
or video games? There are many intoxicants in the
world to tempt us. They are something to be aware
of because overindulgence in them can affect both
our personal wellbeing and our relationships with
others.
Our actions create the world we live in. Before every
action there is a thought. As we learn to be mindful
our thoughts, we learn how to change our actions.
The result is that we change our world.
The five precepts are also connected to the Eightfold
Path. Right livelihood, right speech, and right action
are all contained within them as well. Sometimes,
books on Buddhism can be confusing or repetitive
because the Buddha often used different methods for
teaching the same Dharma. Because the Buddha
traveled widely across India, his audiences varied
greatly, from the well-educated elite to the poorest of
the lower caste. He therefore had to adapt his
message to fit his audience. His message always
pointed towards the true nature of the mind and how
to go beyond thinking so as to recognize the truth.
There are over two hundred and fifty precepts that
monastics and lay practitioners can adopt. Still, the
remaining two hundred and forty-five are built upon
the principles expressed in the first five. And as we
have seen, much can be learned from practicing
them.
 Chapter Nine:
A Man Without a Sangha

What is a Sangha? A religious congregation? A group

of people who practice meditation together on a
regular basis? A support group for those making their
way along the Eightfold Path? Sometimes they are
your friends and family who support you in your
practice. They can just as easily be people you have
never met before, such as someone who writes a
blog you read regularly. They are the Buddhist
community that you belong to, so you will never have
to feel alone again.
Everyone we meet is a Zen teacher and member of
our Sangha. Zen is the art of living. Part of the art is
knowing that everyone has their place in this world,
whether we like them or not. This also includes you
and me; we all belong here and now.
Having a group of friends who support each other’s
meditation practice is definitely helpful. However,
when you become too attached to a group or
attached to their beliefs, problems can arise. Why?
Because now you have people who understand the
world the same way you do, causing bigger egos,
sometimes resulting in self-righteousness. The
Buddha is all about expansion, full awareness, and
being awake. How can we be awake if we are
feeding each other the same perspectives and
opinions repeatedly? We can’t; we become stuck.
The whole Sangha becomes stuck in a rut and can’t
pull itself out, until someone like El Dharmarado
comes along and drags everyone out of the rotten
ditch of egomania.
The boss who brutally mistreats you every day, he is
a part of your Sangha; he is making you durable. The
eighty-year-old store clerk who takes an hour to ring
up one customer, she is a teacher of patience. The
beggars who harass you as you walk down the street
are teachers of charity. The husband who leaves the
toilet seat up, he is teaching tolerance. The restaurant
server who is never able to get your order right, she
is teaching acceptance. The old woman who has
nothing but is still cheerful, she teaches gratitude.
People want a Guru who will give them life’s
answers with easy-to-remember slogans. My advice
is never to trust a Guru. This is your life; you are the
Guru. The world is your Sangha, and everyone is
your teacher; you only have to be aware. You already
have everything you need. There is no great, hidden
answer to life’s riddle. Accept the simple one that is
right in front of you. Forget about all the things you
want. First learn to see the things you have. That is
the only answer there is. There is no need to create
images in your mind’s eye or to write messages to
yourself on little pieces of paper. We don’t have to try
to manifest anything at all. We only need to remove
the blindfold and revel in the wonder that we are alive
and aware.
 Chapter Ten:
The Heart of the Matter

What is reality? Is the world only what we experience

with the five senses? Or is it the thoughts we have
based on that experience? Is it the mind processing
this data, or is there something beyond the mind? Or
is reality just a dream within a dream of some larger
mind, maybe that of a god? When does it begin?
Where does it end? Is life the result of
consciousness, or is consciousness the result of life?
The Heart Sutra addresses all of these questions.
Sutras are teachings of the Buddha. There are two
types of sutras. First is the Pali Canon, which is said
to contain the actual words of the Buddha. Then
there are Mahayana Sutras, which were written after
the Buddha’s death. The Heart Sutra condenses
everything that the Buddha taught down to a single
page. It reads:
T he following is an English translation of the Heart Sutra (From
WerWer ’s Blog)

When Avalokitesvara Bodhisattva is practicing the

profound Prajna-paramita,
he sees and illuminates to the emptiness of the five
 skandhas, and
thus attains deliverance from all suffering.

Shariputra, matter is not different from emptiness,

and
emptiness is not different from matter.
Matter is emptiness and emptiness is matter.
So too are sensation, recognition, volition and
consciousness.

Shariputra, the emptiness character of all dharmas,

neither arises nor ceases, is neither pure nor impure,
and
neither increases nor decreases.

Therefore, in emptiness: there is no matter,

no sensation, recognition, volition or consciousness,
no eye, ear, nose, tongue, body, or mind,
no sight, sound, scent, taste, tangibles, or dharma,
no field of the eye up to no field of mental
consciousness,
no suffering, no cause of suffering,
no ending of suffering, and no path,
no wisdom and also no attainment.
Because there is nothing obtainable.
 Bodhisattvas through the reliance on Prajna-
paramita
have no attachment and hindrance in their minds.
Because there is no more attachment and hindrance,
there is no more fear, and
far away from erroneous views and wishful-thinking,
ultimately: The Final Nirvana.

Therefore, realize that Prajna-paramita

is the great wondrous mantra,
the great radiant mantra,
the unsurpassed mantra, and
the unequaled mantra.

It can eradicate all suffering, and

it is genuine and not false.
Therefore, utter the Prajna-paramita mantra -
chant: Gate Gate Paragate Parasamgate Bodhisvaha
What is meant by “Matter is not different from
emptiness, and emptiness is not different from
matter” or “Matter is emptiness and emptiness is
matter?” Rather than offer an answer, I will
encourage you to find the answer on your own. If I
were to try to tell you what this meant, I would be
lying. Its meaning can only be understood through
direct experience. To try to capture it in words would
be like trying to hold water with a screen. A screen
cannot hold water; words can’t contain truth. They
can only point the way.
Instead of telling us what is, the Heart Sutra tells us
what it is not—no sensation or recognition, no
wisdom or attainment. It instructs us to use the
process of elimination to find the truth that cannot be
explained with words. Although the Eightfold Path
teaches us to use “right effort” to find the truth, here
we need to set effort aside and take a step back from
the way we usually perceive the world. We are like
fish in the ocean; we don’t know we are in the ocean
until we are separated from it. The same is true of
reality. We cannot understand it because we are
emerged in it. However, once we begin questioning it,
it begins to break apart. In time, the very concepts of
self and the outside world it experiences are called
into doubt. Reality is not what we perceive with the
five senses. It cannot be our perceptions because
everyone perceives reality differently. Our
consciousness, or awareness, is the vehicle that
allows us to have perception, but it is not reality
itself. Once all our own judgments are removed,
awareness is purified. The purer it grows, the more
difficult it becomes to define. When it reaches a state
of absolute purity, definition is impossible.
Practicing meditation is the primary practice that can
lead you a direct experience of reality of your own.
You don’t have to be a profound spiritual seeker to
meditate and have an insight into the true nature of
reality. The truth is hidden from no one. Everyone
can experience it. You do not have to believe
anything. You don’t have to strive toward an
unattainable goal. Just stop, sit, and breathe. Be the
reality you experience.
Reading the Heart Sutra is helpful before beginning
meditation. Read the words, then let them go and just
sit and rest with your breath. Watch your thoughts
come and go, and the reality that you have been
weaving over the course of your entire life will
unravel by itself. You will be able to peek through the
holes in the fabric of what you perceive as reality and
glimpse the Dharma.
People have written volumes of books about this
single page sutra. However, none of them is able to
express its exact meaning because it cannot be
explained in words. I would not trust anyone who
claims it can be. So, you do not need to explain the
Heart Sutra. You only need to read it, meditate on it,
and experience it for yourself.
Bodhisattvas through the reliance on Prajna-
 paramita
have no attachment and hindrance in their minds.
Because there is no more attachment and hindrance,
there is no more fear, and
far away from erroneous views and wishful-thinking,
ultimately: The Final Nirvana.
 Chapter Eleven:
A Monk Without Robes

Is naked.
 Chapter Twelve:
Who, Me?

Your mother catches you with your hand in the

cookie jar. You look up: “Who, me?” But who exactly
is this “me” stealing the cookies? It is not really me
stealing them, you tell yourself. It is an uncontrollable
desire to eat that is stealing the cookies. You yourself
would never consider doing such a thing. I am not a
thief, you say. There is something in me that’s
craving chocolate.
But what is that something? What is “me?” Is it the
conscience that tells you not to steal? Or is it the
desire that drives you to eat cookies and feel fulfilled?
Or are both just parts of the same human nature?
As you can see, the self cannot be defined any more
than reality can, as we discussed in the last chapter.
Are you your body? Are you your mind? Are you the
thoughts that your mind produces? Are you what
others think you are? When we broke down reality, it
became indefinable. The same is true for the self.
So what? you ask. How is any of this transcendental
mumbo jumbo helpful? Why bother exploring the
nature of reality and the “self?” What does any of this
have to do with relieving suffering? So far we have
concluded that everything is impermanent and
interdependent; therefore, nothing exists on its own.
This is true for everything we can perceive. Nothing
is distinguishable and definable as we originally
thought it to be. Could this also be true for suffering?
Undeniably, it is. Without a self and a reality to stand
upon, where does that leave us when it comes to
suffering?
“You are what you think,” the Buddha says in the
Dhammapada. “All that you are arises from your
thoughts. With your thoughts, you make your
world.”
Yes, again these words. If you can tame the mind—
the one that tells you to steal the cookies—you will be
able to end your own suffering and the suffering of
others. This does not mean that we never have to feel
pain again, only that we can feel it differently. It can
be experienced in a variety of ways, depending on
how we choose to perceive it. One cookie is nice and
will make you feel better, but twenty cookies will
make you sick. There is a middle way; this is what
the Buddha discovered.
The Buddha was born a prince into a rich family. His
father did everything to prevent him from
experiencing suffering. He was not permitted to exit
the castle, and he was given everything he wanted:
food, entertainment, and companions. Despite his
father's best efforts, the prince still felt discontented.
One day he was finally allowed to venture outside the
palace walls. In the streets, he saw sickness, old age,
and death. Immediately he wanted to find a way to
end what he saw. He left home and became an
ascetic, later living in the jungles without clothing,
eating only a grain of rice a day. He spent six years
depriving his body and mind to find an answer that
would relieve all suffering. Finally, he became
discouraged with the spiritual teachers of his time.
They were not providing him with the answers that
he was searching for, so he gave them up. Then he
found a tree and sat beneath it, swearing he would
stay there until he either died or found the answers he
sought. While meditating beneath the tree, a villager
gave him a bowl of sticky rice. He ate it, breaking his
vow of fasting as an ascetic, and he continued sitting
in meditation. He ate, slept, and meditated beneath the
tree. He no longer tortured his body. After forty-nine
days, he became enlightened. By practicing the
Middle Way, he found a way to end all suffering. He
didn’t run out and start teaching because he thought
that no one would understand or believe him.
However, after a few more days of sitting under the
tree, he decided that he had to try. He met up with
some of his old comrades from his ascetic days, and
they noticed that he looked different. They asked
him, “What have you been doing the last few
months?” He told them about the Four Noble Truths
and they were impressed. He also explained that they
should not believe his teachings, but test them to
make sure they were true. Furthermore, if they
proved not to be so, they should toss them away.
The Middle Way is present in all of the Buddha’s
teachings, including his teaching that there is no self.
He is not saying that we do not exist at all, only that
we do not exist as a single entity. The body is made
of millions of cells and bacteria, each existing
interdependently and collectively. As human beings,
we are also like cells that belong to a larger
ecosystem. We rely on each other for everything. We
rely on other people to make our clothes, grow our
food, and make fuel and electricity. Our dependence
is endless. We all play a role in a larger scheme.
Autonomy is an illusion created by the mind. We can
only exist interdependently and collectively.
We simply do not exist in a solitary state. We rely
upon everything around us: the atmosphere for air to
breathe, sunlight for warmth, plants and animals for
food, and each other for survival. Most of us are
familiar with the holistic view of medicine in treating
the body. The self, too, is part of a whole—the whole
of all things existing as one.
 Chapter Thirteen:
Beyond Life and Death
The reason we all love an action hero is because no
matter how many times he is shot, stabbed, blown
up, hit by cars, thrown off bridges, or tortured by
terrorists, he never dies. The action hero gets back
up and keeps on fighting. Everyone wants to live
forever. Furthermore, we don’t want to lose family
members and friends we love. On the surface, this
would seem like the downside to impermanence. The
Buddha taught his followers about deathlessness, but
what is deathlessness? The other day, I was chatting
with friends when the topic of deathlessness came
up. I was trying to explain it unsuccessfully, and
finally, I said, “Give me a hatchet and I will show you
deathlessness.” Once again, words fail at explaining
what the Buddha taught. Only through direct
experience is true wisdom attained. (Don’t worry—I
let my friend live.)
If there is no self, then who is there to die? If you are
not your mind and not your body but only a
combination of different elements coming together at
once for a temporary period of time, then after a
while, they come apart, change, and become part of
other things. Our actions can live on forever in a
chain of action and reaction. That is why most people
have children, and then their children have children,
creating a legacy. But this is true of every action we
perform. Something as small as a smile or a few kind
words can evolve into a revolution that changes the
world forever.
How can love exist without its opposite? As far as the
mind is concerned, nothing can exist without having
a counterpart. There can’t be good without evil, cold
without hot, rich without poor, life without death.
The list is endless because the relative world is made
of dualities. The Buddha transcended duality, which
allowed him to have a larger perspective. He learned
how to see beyond the limitations of his mind.
From his new perspective, he saw past the limits of
life and death. He identified everything as
impermanent, always changing, in a state of flux. He
never made any promises guaranteeing a life after
death or reincarnation. He taught that if we practice
the method he practiced, we can attain the level of
understanding he attained, which was beyond the
limits of life and death. In other words, we all can
become Buddhas.
Why believe that the Buddha is right about
deathlessness? The most popular reasoning is that
matter is made up of energy, and energy has no end.
When matter seems to disappear, it is merely being
transformed into a different kind of matter, and the
number of these kinds is infinite. I am not able to
explain the science of energy; I am sure you can find
books on the subject. I also can’t explain away death.
It happens to us all; even the Buddha had to pass
away. I also would not say that we must take the
Buddha’s teaching on faith. His first teaching was not
to accept his teachings on faith, but to test them and
validate them as truth for ourselves.
How do you test, much less validate, a belief in
deathlessness? You must experience it for yourself.
Have you ever been on a roller coaster that made you
feel like you were going to die, yet you enjoyed it?
Perhaps you enjoy driving fast on a winding road.
Maybe you skydive. The moment we feel the most
alive is when death is closest to us. Better yet, it is
when we are standing on the edge of life and death.
We experience an excitement that is unlike any other.
Furthermore, once the exhilaration of risk passes, we
are left with gratitude and an enhanced zest for living.
After a close brush with death, we are always left
feeling more alive than ever. We fear death; however,
it shows us how we want to live and guides us
through the labyrinth of life. It keeps us moving,
keeps us changing, growing, and learning from our
experiences. Death is an invaluable friend; it reminds
us that this life is precious and we are like a wave
that has forgotten it is a part of the ocean and will
eventually return to the sea of emptiness only to arise
again in infinite forms.
And yet, when death takes away the ones we love,
our grief can seem endless. When we lose someone
we love, we are never the same again. Death is the
most painful kind of loss, but it is common to all.
Everyone must experience it, and no one likes the
way it feels. Still, we should try to allow ourselves
the opportunity to feel grief. The Buddha teaches us
how to be open to every experience, no matter how
painful it is. The greater our pains, the greater the
joys. We cannot have one without the other, yet as
long as we remain completely open and stay on the
middle path, life will be “not good, not bad.” Life is a
series of experiences, all of which pass.
 Chapter Fourteen:
Breaking the Cycle

If reality is not fixed and there is no self and no

death, and reality is not what we perceive it to be,
then what is there to fear? Fear is what causes us to
struggle in life. We want to feel secure in a world that
is predictable and reliable. However, the nature of life
is one of constant change. You can never be safe. We
learn to struggle less by practicing acceptance.
Rather than trying to swim upstream, “go with the
flow,” as they say. There is a famous story about Lao
Tzu and Confucius that illustrates this principle.
One day, Confucius was walking along the river. He
came to a place where there were rapids flowing with
ferocious currents beneath a waterfall. Everything
that entered the rough waters was sucked down. As
he walked by, he saw Lao Tzu jump into the turbulent
waters and disappear. Confucius panicked, thinking
that Lao Tzu was dead. He was about to shout for
help when Lao Tzu reappeared, smiling as he did the
backstroke up the rapids. Then he was gone again. At
first Confucius did not panic; however, after a
minute, he was once again concerned for Lao. He
began searching for a rope, vine, or a stick to reach
into the water to save him. Suddenly, Lao reappeared,
again with a big grin on his face, doing the
breaststroke down the rapids. He climbed out of the
river onto the other bank. As he dried himself off,
Confucius said, “I thought you had drowned. How
did you learn to swim like that?”
Lao continued drying himself and replied, “I didn’t
learn anything. When the water pulls me down, I hold
my breath and wait for it to bring me back up. The
less I struggle, the longer I can stay underwater, until
the current brings me back up. I allow the current to
do all the work. I simply go with the flow and enjoy.”
Then Confucius asked, “Are you afraid of
drowning?”
Lao laughed, “Not at all. I have been doing this since
the day I was born. Wherever there is a down
current, there is an up current”
Lao Tzu figured out how to go with the flow of the
current without using any effort. This rule is
applicable to everyday life. The more we let go, the
easier life becomes, and the less there is to fear.
When fear is removed from our lives, freedom
remains. In the relative world, there is always an
equal balance, an up current for every down current.
In Chinese philosophy, this is the Taoist perspective
of yin and yang; everything in nature is a perfect
balance of opposites.
This idea is contrary to everything that we are taught
in Western society. We are told the harder we work,
the more things we can acquire, and the happier we
will be. Everyone, deep down inside, knows that this
is a lie. This is delusion created by the mind. The
mind’s original function was to keep the body alive
by identifying things we need, such as food, and to
keep us out of harm’s way. So what does the mind
have left to do, once we have everything we need? It
automatically convinces itself that if we have a bigger
car, a bigger house, a better job, etc., we will be
happier. Our culture adds to this delusion, and the
delusion, in turn, shapes our culture. In Buddhist
terms, this is called Samsara, or the cycle of
suffering. The Buddha taught his disciples how to
escape this harmful cycle.
Fear and Samsara go hand and hand. When we
examine ourselves and the world around us in a
logical way, we realize we are hamsters running on
wheel; the faster we run, the faster it spins. You
already have everything you need in this moment.
How do I know this? The fact that you are reading
these words tells me that you are alive, breathing air,
have food, and light to read by. If this is true, then
what is there to fear at this moment? There is
absolutely nothing to fear and no need to struggle.
Just relax in the moment, experience it fully, and let it
go.
Perhaps you are bored simply relaxing in the moment.
Maybe you desire entertainment or some goal to
strive for. There is nothing wrong with having a goal
or wanting to be entertained. For example, my goal is
to finish writing this book. So long as I keep my goal
in perspective and don’t let the task of completing it
make me more or less than before, I will be fine. I
am not a failure if I don’t finish this book, and I am
not a success if I do. The book itself doesn’t really
matter. I will live whether I finish it or not. I will still
have everything I need. Honestly, it is just something
to fill my time. So would it make sense for me to be
afraid of not finishing it? No, it does not.
Not everything is as simple as my previous example.
For instance, we need jobs to make money so that
we can pay for food and shelter to take care of our
families. We have to play the game to survive, and
sometimes the game is unfair. What can we do about
life being unfair? My father’s advice is simple: “Get
up every day, go to work, do the best you can, and
the rest will work itself out.” His advice has not failed
me yet.
Ego is often mistaken for the self in our culture. We
puff ourselves up with pride to feel superior to
others. This creates a false sense of control over
life’s events. In reality, it only creates more suffering.
Pride of self leads to fear of others. The ego creates a
competition of winners and losers in which those
who succeed must do so at the expense of those who
fail. When we focus on helping others rather than
defeating them in competition, there is less fear in
everyone. Going with the flow and helping others is
how to live a fearless life.
 Chapter Fifteen:
The Greatest Amusement Park

The rest of this book is going to be fun and games.

For a truly enlightened mind, reality is like a giant
amusement park for it to wander in. All of the
chapters before this one have guided you to
enlightenment; now it's time for Nirvana. You are free
of self, free of death, a master of reality, and have
conquered fear. Your mind is spotless, purified,
untainted. Delusion has been washed away. There is
only the truth.
Even just the first inklings of Enlightenment can be
enough to turn a life of agony into one of peace and
joy. The amusement park of reality is full of thrill
rides. There are roller coasters that take us high
above the park, then plunge us back toward the
ground. Then, after all the twists and turns, when
they finally come to a stop, we are left screaming for
more. There is also the haunted house with its
unexpected terrors at every turn, causing ours hearts
to race, never knowing what will come next. Last,
there is the merry-go-round, slowly spinning around
and around, past the same landmarks over and over
again, just as our cars take us past the same places
every day on our way to work. There are crowds of
people pushing and shoving, trying to fight their way
to the front of the line. Yet you are able to wait
peacefully, anticipating the thrill that you are about to
experience.
Your mind is the tent and your thoughts are the
performers in the greatest show on earth. The tent
has a band playing inside it, as well as clowns
frolicking and performing silly tricks, trapeze artists
swinging high above. There are lions, tigers, dancing
bears, and marching elephants, and in the middle of it
all, you are the ringmaster. The master of your own
mind. From the middle of the tent, you can see all
that is happening around you. You can command the
lion to roar, the elephant to stand, and the clowns to
juggle fire batons, without effort, without ever saying
a word. The circus performers dance around the big
top of your mind; each one knows their role and
plays it well. You observe them going around and
around with the music. All of them obey your every
instruction, except, of course, for the clowns…they
never listen. They keep juggling and honking their
horns; all you can do is wait for them to grow tired
and go away on their own. Because you are the
ringmaster, you are aware of everything that is going
on inside your own mind. Some thoughts you can
manipulate and control, while others you simply let
take their natural course until they have exhausted
themselves.
The rollercoaster of life and the carnival of the mind
create the marvelous adventure of your existence.
New thrills and mysteries await us every day. So
what if your car breaks down on the way to work
and the boss yells at you for being late? Or if your
wife gets mad later because of the car repair bill? My
friend, this is what we live for. The Zen master is
always keenly aware, knowing how to handle each
situation as it arises. When the car breaks down, he
remains calm and calls AAA. When the boss yells at
him, he offers to arrive an hour early the following
day. When his wife is upset, he tells her, “Don’t
worry; I have set aside special funds for this
purpose.” Today is just another day, and it will pass
just as the last one did yesterday, and the next one
will tomorrow.
Each of us is always in the middle of their own
adventure. The events in our personal story make no
difference. What is important is how we perceive and
act upon them. Practicing right view and right action,
going with the flow in the nonjudgmental don’t-know
mind, is elementary Zen. Together its principles form
a practical approach to dealing with reality. There is
no great secret, and there are no magic words. No
amount of money can buy it. It can only be mastered
by learning to live inside the middle of the three-ring
circus of our minds.
There is peace to be found in the chaos, the peace of
resting in pure awareness and seeing, hearing, tasting,
and touching everything around us. The sound of
people, the smell of funnel cake, the taste of cotton
candy, the feeling of holding your loved one's hand…

So sit back and enjoy the show.

 Chapter Sixteen:
What the…?

Two monks were arguing about the temple flag

waving in the wind.
One said, “The flag moves.”
The other said, “The wind moves.”
They argued back and forth but could not agree.
Hui-neng, the sixth patriarch, said, “Gentlemen! It is
not the flag that moves. It is not the wind that moves.
It is your mind that moves.”
The two monks were struck with awe.
What is this mind that moves?
This story is an example of a koan. Koans are usually
short exchanges between Zen masters of the past and
their disciples. Different schools of Zen use them
differently. In some schools, students are given a
koan, and then spend years, or even a lifetime, trying
to answer it. In other schools of Zen, a koan can take
the form of a rapid exchange between student and
teacher, sometimes called Dharma combat. I am only
experienced in the latter form. Dharma combat is
more than answering questions. It's not a quiz show
where you win a prize for answering correctly. The
questions serve two purposes: one, they force the
student to question reality; and two, they push the
student into having their own direct experience of
don’t-know mind.
For example, consider the question prompted by the
koan above: “What is really moving—the wind, the
flag, or the mind?” This question, in turn, prompts
another one: “If it is your mind that moves, what
mind is it?” Considering this question forces the
student to reconsider his or her view of reality.
Another example: Right now I am sitting in front of
my computer typing. Are the computer and I the
same or different? If I answer “the same,” the
teacher will hit me 30 times because I am attached to
emptiness. If I answer “different,” he will also hit me
30 times, this time for being attached to duality. The
mind is no longer able to use ordinary logic to answer
the question. However, the answer is obvious. The
mind wants to use logic to create an answer it can
understand and build upon. The answer is, they
cannot stay the same because they, like all things, are
changing with every passing second.
What I personally like about koans is how they help
me apply the lessons I have learned from reading
sutras, meditating on the cushion, and listening to
Dharma talks to my everyday life. Wonji Dharma
says, “Koans are not special or magical in and of
themselves. They have been developed by Zen
teachers to teach students about the correct situation,
the correct function, and the correct relationship of a
given situation.”
Situation, function, and relationship are the
components of everything we encounter in our lives.
The situation is the problem or scenario, the function
our actions, and relationship the effect. For example,
if I get angry at someone for hitting me with a
shopping cart, is it the person who hit me who makes
me upset? Is it the cart? Is it my mind? Mind is the
master architect of reality. Koans help a student
interpret the architecture of their own mind. What is
holding the roof up? Is it the beam or the nail?
The formula of situation, function, and relationship is
applicable to all situations. Every problem can be
expressed in the form of a koan.
I also view koans as mini sutras because they are
easy to remember. I can retrieve one from memory
any time I need a different perspective. They help to
cut through the judgmental, intellectual, and
egotistical aspects of the mind. Here are two of my
favorite koans from the Five Mountain Record,
translated by Wonji Dharma.
Everyday Mind is the True Way
Zhàozhōuii asked Zen Master Nánquániii, “What is
the true way?” Nánquán answered. “Everyday mind
is the true way.” Zhàozhōu asked, “Should I, then,
try to keep it or not?” Nánquán replied, “If you try to
keep it, you have already made a mistake.” Zhàozhōu,
now confused, continued, “But if I don’t try, how
can I ever understand the true way?” Nánquán then
said, “The true way is not dependent on
understanding or not understanding. Understanding is
illusion; not understanding is blankness. If you
completely attain the true way of not thinking, it is
like space, clear and void. So, why do you make a
right and wrong way?” Upon hearing this, Zhàozhōu
was suddenly enlightened.
Huìzhōng’s “Seamless Memorial Monument”
Emperor Táng Sùzōngii asked National Teacher
Huìzhōngiii, “After you die, what will you need?” The
National Teacher said, “Build me a seamless memorial
monument.” The Emperor said, “Please, Master, the
monument’s form?” The National Teacher was silent
for a long time. Then he asked, “Do you
understand?” The Emperor said, “I don’t
understand.” The National Teacher said, “I have a
disciple, Dānyuániv, to whom I have transmitted the
teaching. He understands this well. Please summon
him and ask him about it.” After the National Teacher
passed on, the Emperor summoned Dānyuán and
asked him what the meaning of this was. Dānyuán
said,
South of Xiang, north of Tan:
therein is gold filling whole country.
under the shadow less tree,
the communal ferryboat;
in the crystal palace,
no one knows.
The koan is a reminder that living is an active
practice, not merely sitting on a cushion, staring at a
wall. By posing its mysterious questions, the koan
serves as a reminder that if an answer can be
expressed in words, it is not a true answer.
In 21st century terminology, asking a question could
be considered koan practice so long as you make an
effort to answer it truthfully. If your car breaks down
on the way to work and you ask, “Why?” answer, “It
is just a broken car.” It’s not the money to repair it;
it’s not having to find a ride to work. It’s only a
broken car. When the boss yells at you for being late
because your car broke down, and you ask yourself,
“Why?” answer, “It is just the boss yelling at me.”
You are not being fired. As Kurt Vonnegut would say,
“So it goes.”
There are no great secrets to life and there are no
magic mantras. However, there is the thus-ness of
every passing moment, nothing more, nothing less. It
is gone before it is grasped and cannot be held on to.
 Chapter Seventeen:
The Poetry of Zen

How do you capture something that can’t be

described or understood using words? The answer is
poetry. Although poetry is an art that involves the use
of words, the words that are not used are just as
important as the ones that are. For example, try to
describe where you are now by using only three
words. Which words would you choose?
Sing gray bird.
I chose to write the words above because the sky
outside is gray, yet there is a bird singing. I stripped
away everything else. It has been only a minute since
I wrote the poem; the bird has stopped singing, so
this moment would require a new poem of its own.
Every second that passes has its own story to tell.
And yet everyone experiencing this moment has their
own poem to write about it. Zen poetry is
everywhere, in everything and everyone. Everything
is Zen poetry. Here is some of mine.
Silence
Silence is like a cold stream
that runs through the caverns
beneath the surface
to cool the hot molten core.
Southern Blue-Eared Glossy-Starling

Chirp!
The Tornado (A Series of 4 Haikus)
She is gone forever
mortally slain by dead hounds from hell
Sweet perfume lingers
Jagged rock jets forth
Scrapping edges infinite
Hate dashes away
Warm wind blows easily now
Time dissolves all sorrows
Love is motionless
The tornado sleeps hard
Dreaming stillness setting sun
Victory heart is free grin
This last poem, as mentioned in the title, is in the
ancient haiku form, which is a form of meditation in
its own right. Each poem consists of seventeen
syllables written in three verses or lines. The first
verse is five syllables, the second is seven, and the
third is five: five-seven-five. I recommend being
spontaneous when writing a haiku. Use any situation,
such as being stuck at a red light, and turn it into a
haiku moment.
Will this light ever change?
I feel my life passing me by
The light will turn green
This is my attempt at writing a haiku while waiting at
a red light. It can be a helpful practice in switching
your perspective on a given situation. It clears away
the useless clutter of language and distills the mind’s
thoughts down to seventeen sounds that paint an
immense picture of the present moment.
Zen art is very vast. You can find a scroll twenty feet
long and five feet high with only a boat and a bird
drawn on it in black ink. The rest of the scroll is
empty, almost infinitely blank. The vastness and
simplicity are its beauty. Alan Watts ends his book
The Way of Zen with a chapter about art, and
rightfully so, because art and Zen go hand and hand.
An artist of any type can relate to the idea of not
being separate from their art. A musician is the
music, and the music is the musician. They are not
separate, yet neither are they one. They exist
momentarily; then they are gone. Any true artist will
tell you that they did not create their masterpiece; it is
something that happened spontaneously. This is not
limited to art, but applies to everything we do. When
we do something without effort, that is Zen. I do it
when I am writing or playing guitar. My girlfriend
does it in the kitchen when she spontaneously bakes
delicious cupcakes. My father does it just by talking.
Meanwhile, the butcher does it carving a steak. The
barber does it cutting hair. When you see a clerk at a
store moving with ease, you may be wonder, Is this
because the clerk is creating Zen art, or because Zen
art is creating the clerk? The answer is, it is neither;
they both happen spontaneously. True art only
happens once and can never happen again because
that moment will only happen once. There are no
second chances at creating art. It is created
spontaneously out of and by the moment it happens
in. As such, it can only be created with awareness.
Your life is Zen art, and Zen poetry.
 Chapter Eighteen:
The Solution

As we have seen, the mind is the foundation on

which reality is built. Many books have been written
that are filled with techniques meant to help people
tap the hidden resources of their minds to manifest
their desires and provide themselves with wealth and
eternal happiness. The Buddha recognized the powers
of the mind, but he also identified it as the cause of all
suffering. The mind’s blurred perception manifests
desire and ignorance, which are its roots. How can
using the mind to get what you desire help you
reduce your suffering and make you happy? The
answer is, it can’t; in fact, it only creates more
suffering.
The problem is that, too often, instead of us using
our minds, our minds use us. In order to prevent
them from using us, first we have to develop a
relationship with our minds. By practicing meditation,
we can learn what they are up to. Sitting quietly in
meditation and watching them without judgment, just
letting their thoughts arise and dissipate, can reveal to
us how we perceive ourselves in relation to reality.
Second we must learn the art of letting go. When the
mind is free and empty, the universe can fill up with
new wonders. Letting go and maintaining an open
mind, rather than cluttering it with useless desires,
leads us from one mystery to another, rather than
staying stuck in planned routines that never quite live
up to our expectations.
Going with the flow is much more pleasant than
fighting our way upstream until we grow so tired we
drown or wash ashore. The solution requires no
effort. You already have everything you need in this
moment. There is no struggle. Enjoy the Zen art that
is present everywhere around you.
Learn to enjoy the unknown rather than fear it. When
fear is present, embrace it; don’t run or try to push it
away. Zen welcomes total contact. It does not avoid
anything. It deals with reality head on. When you
embrace fear, there is no more fear. When the
struggle is embraced, you become a part of it, and
then it is no longer a struggle. It becomes the Way.
Give up on understanding; there is nothing to
understand. You cannot understand the mind using
the mind. And yet, you are having the experience of
having a mind as you read this page. When you break
down the experience of the mind to its core, you will
find emptiness. It is not emptiness compared to
fullness; it is true emptiness that is beyond the
understanding of the mind. The mind can only think
in terms of comparisons and duality. For example,
you cannot fix your car while driving it; by the same
token, you cannot understand your mind while
thinking.
We must learn to step away from the mind and
experience the truth without trying to understand it.
Only someone who has experienced a warm summer
day understands the feeling of warm sunlight hitting
their face. It is not something to be understood,
taught, or held on to. You can only know how it feels
by going outside on a sunny day.
The solution is to see that there was never any
problem to begin with. The Buddha learned that the
mind produces a world of delusions, and when there
is no thinking, there is no suffering. He discovered
the true, pure, untainted nature of the mind that is
contained within all of us. Buddha nature is
everywhere and is everyone.
Buddha nature is expressed in incalculable possibilities
such as life, death, you, me, everything and nothing.
It has no beginning and no end.