Previously published as a four part series: Toward he Heart of Chan
Revised 2/17/2019
Chan (Zen) is often viewed in one of two ways: as a religious institution, characterized by its lore, rhetoric, canonical texts, monastic customs and beliefs, or as a mystical/ascetic tradition which focuses on spiritual disciplines that lead to an expanded awareness of Self. The term Chan is the transliteration of the Sanskrit term dhyana which means to dwell, or to meditate. In this article, I offer a perspective of the mystical journey of Chan, one that is dependent solely upon our desire to delve within, to uncover hidden and previously unknown aspects of being.
Westerners have romanced Zen for several decades: its stylish popularity has enabled the term to be used as an effective market tool for products and services, to entice people to join clubs and groups, and to sell books and magazines. Misunderstandings about Zen and Chan have been a natural consequence.
Chan's mystical tradition is about meditation and the process of delving within our psyche to explore hidden aspects of ourselves. The activity of Chan leads to a cascading sequence of inspirational and life-altering discoveries. To get there, the mind, psyche, and physical body must be prepared: they must all be in the “right place.” But what is that “right place”? Where do we start, and how to we get to where we want to go?
Stage One: Prerequisites
First, we have to be alive. This may seem like a silly and flippant thing to say, but consider how many of us are oblivious to the fact that we are, indeed, alive? We go through the motions of being alive: getting dressed, eating breakfast, driving to work, talking with people; but how much of this is simply reflexive? Without full awareness, how much can we consider ourselves fully alive? To breath and eat and defecate has a certain sound of life about it, but to what extent are we aware throughout it all? The first step is to become fully conscious of ourselves and the environment in which we live: it involves training the mind to see, and is what I refer to as stage one in a four-stage process. Practice involves harmonizing the mind, psyche, and body, and results in reduced stress, improved sleep, improved ability to engage in reciprocal relationships with acquaintances, friends, and family, improved physical health, and psychological contentment.
The first practice, which I describe as Stage One, goes by many names including Transcendental Meditation [TM], Mindfulness Meditation, Acem Meditation, and MBSR (Mindfulness Based Stress Reduction). Psychologists generally categorize these approaches as “non-directive” techniques because we don’t try to focus (direct) our concentration on anything, but simply do our best to watch the mind as it moves from one thing to the next, allowing it to do what it will while being attentive to it.
Some Japanese-styled Zen teachers equate Zen, in its entirety, with this stage of practice. Instructions from the popular Japanese-based Soto Zen website (sotozen-net.or.jp) read: "Do not concentrate on any particular object or control your thought. When you maintain a proper posture and your breathing settles down, your mind will naturally become tranquil. When various thoughts arise in your mind, do not become caught up by them or struggle with them; neither pursue nor try to escape from them. Just leave thoughts alone, allowing them to come up and go away freely. The essential thing in doing zazen [sitting meditation] is to awaken (kakusoku) from distraction and dullness, and return to the right posture moment by moment." [Note 1] Chan practices differ from this interpretation of Zen in significant ways that will be described in this article.
This first practice is accessible to anyone and progress can be made quickly. For readers who have never approached meditation before, here are a few preliminaries:
- Avoid eating a big meal before starting. Find a place without distractions and allocate a fixed amount of time when you can be assured that you won't be disturbed.
- Sit comfortably on a chair without leaning on the back-rest. Usually sitting on the first third to half works well. Avoid couches or furniture with soft cushions: a firm seat helps maintain good posture. Sit with the back “straight,” the head and neck in-line with the spinal cord, the shoulders relaxed.
- Take five to ten slow deep breaths, being sure to exhale all the way before starting the next breath.
- Close the eyes and observe what the mind is doing. It may be hearing a car drive by, or noticing an itch, or thinking about the laundry that needs cleaning, or the tomatoes that need picking. Just sit and watch the mind move. If it gets lost in mental-chatter, observe the mental chatter. Each time you bring the mind back to watchful attention, the process gets easier and more automatic.
When you first begin this exercise, set a timer and try doing it for five minutes. If you lose the ability to pay attention, getting caught up in your thoughts instead of passively observing them, stop and take a break. Each time you begin the practice, add a couple minutes to the time to gradually work your way up to a daily 20- or 30-minute session.
Perform this regimen for three months. After the first month, you will have begun to notice a great many changes. You may have less anxiety and stress, feel better, sleep better, and notice general improvement of your overall physical and mental health.
Research studying the effects of non-directive meditation has revealed its benefit to brain function and its tremendous value to health and wellbeing.
In 2006 B. R. Cahn and J. Polich found that mindfulness practices stimulated the middle prefrontal brain associated with metacognition and self-observation. Juergen Fell and others found that first-time meditators practicing non-directive techniques quickly learn to moderate alpha-wave activity (8 to 12 Hz, characteristic of pre-sleeping/pre-waking states), slowing its rhythm while increasing its power, and observed that this effect was independent of how much experience a person had with mindfulness methods, or from what “school” they belonged to. Other researchers have shown that this form of meditation lowers blood pressure (Robert D Brook, et al.), helps in rehabilitation from drug abuse (A. Zgierska), and much more (P. Grossman).
There is no risk and no danger associated with this practice and its benefits are numerous if not profound. Many people who get through stage one are often motivated to continue to stage two: concentration, the precursor to contemplation.
Stage Two: Concentration
Chan training, begins with developing concentration (dharana). This is different from non-directive techniques discussed previously because concentration requires the mind to focus intently on something; it can be a thought, a feeling, a bodily process (like breathing), an idea, a concept, a visual image, etc. Concentration improves our ability to reflect, to observe, and, in general, to be aware. In this phase we learn to tame the “monkey mind,” and confront our emotions.
Repressed emotions arise from an agitated, chaotic mind. Working with Chan concentration methods taps into those repressed emotions and releases them to consciousness. As the mind opens, we commonly experience negative emotions such as fear, anger, grief, embarrassment, sadness, etc. Positive emotions are generally not suppressed. During stage two practice, as these unpleasant emotions arise, we observe them and let them go, being vigilant not to cling to them. If the emotions are strong enough, we may experience emotional outbursts: crying is not uncommon. But once these repressed emotions have been released to consciousness, they are no longer able to create problems. As they depart, the mind becomes stronger, clearer, and sharper, and we become more at-ease. If we had neurotic tendencies, they too diminish or vanish entirely. A sense of profound relief, of having a burden lifted from us, may replace an emotionally tortured psyche.
There are three general (and broad) approaches to concentration practices which I’ll refer to as external, internal, and cross-over. With external practices, we focus attention on exterior “things” like a point on the wall in front of us, a burning stick of incense, or sound from the street. Exterior subjects for concentration can also include various fields of study, like mathematics, physics, music, computer programming, and various sports. With internal concentration practices, we direct attention toward internal “things” like ideas or concepts, feelings, or mental images. With cross-over practices we concentrate on things that overlap the two such as the breath, the pulse, physical sensations, and certain disciplines like the martial arts and some forms of yoga. Cross-over practices help move the mind away from the external world to the inner one.
In ancient times, Buddhist clergy learned concentration practices by memorizing long sutras and put them to oral chants and, at least during the first few centuries of Buddhism, were required to recite sutras in a variety of complex and convoluted ways (using, for example, the jata-patha, or “mesh recitation” and the ghana-patha, or “dense recitation” methods). These methods required immense concentration. Monks who hadn't yet mastered the ability were required to learn it. Even today, the many ceremonial activities that monks and nuns engage in throughout the day, require full, unwavering, attention, and quickly develop concentration ability. In liu of the natural supports provided by a monastic setting, lay practitioners can choose from a wide assortment of alternate disciplines to develop external concentration skills, including:
- Math: Count down from 100 by 3’s.
- Music: Play a descending major scale in all keys moving up each time by a minor third.
- Physics: Using only Newtonian mechanics, devise a formula that describes the motion of a planet about a star in a two-body system.
- Programming: create a recursive algorithm that calculates the factorial of any number using the fewest lines of code possible.
- Sports: Free-climb El Capitan.
While most of these examples obviously require particular skills and prior knowledge of the subject, they illustrate the point that concentration can be cultivated through a wide range of disciplines. If there is a certain area of interest we have, we can use it to work on developing concentration. Cross-over exercises help connect the mind with the body. Examples include:
- Counting the breath: take the seated position described in Part I, breath normally and count the breaths from one to ten. If you lose count, start over again from one.
- Performing the pulse meditation: Take the seated position described in Part I and place your hands, palms up, on your knees (without crossing your arms). Lightly touch the thumb to the middle finger. Focus your concentration on the sensation of the two fingers touching until you are able to feel the pulse there.
Once we've mastered external and cross-over concentration skills, we can direct our focus entirely inward. Some examples of internal concentration methods include:
- Create a mental image. Visualize the house you lived in when you were ten years old. Reconstruct the house from memory, recalling every detail you can: the color and texture of the floor and what it was made of, the windows and how they opened, the front door and back door, how the rooms flowed from one to another. Do this until you have a full picture of it in your mind. If you can't remember all the details, invent them. (Some people prefer to use a church or temple or other religious building they were familiar with when young, or some other structure more relevant to their lives at that time.)
- Explore a concept. Choose a concept such as hate or love, right or wrong, good or evil, etc. Look at it from every direction, illuminating it in as much detail as you can. Explore different ways in which the word is used and different meanings it takes in different contexts. Observe the emotional response you have as you invoke its various qualities. Become best friends with the concept as you come to understand it from every possible perspective.
- Invoke a feeling/emotion. Choose a feeling and explore it. What is the nature of this feeling? What are its effects? From where does it originate? What does the emotion evoke? Memories? Other emotions? Follow it where it takes you. Alternate with both “positive” and “negative” feelings.
All the concentration practices I have outlined here require prolonged and dedicated practice. Spending five minutes with a practice before moving on to a different one would be like going to a movie and walking out after five minutes: we will never know what the movie was about, or enjoy it, and will have wasted our time. Engaging with Chan requires that we are eager to stay with a practice as long as necessary before moving on to another one: we don’t practice in order to reach a goal, but to gain insights, expand our understanding, and discover hidden truths. It’s irrelevant how long we work with an exercise--it’s whether we have mastered it to the extent that it has opened our minds and prepared us to move on to more advanced practices that’s relevant. The more effort we put into practice, the faster we progress.
Once we can concentrate for prolonged periods, we are ready for the next step: contemplation.
Stage 3: Contemplation
Concentration provides the foundation for contemplation (dhyana). While the two can be developed together rather than in stages, as I present here, we will have no ability to contemplate until we have learned to concentrate. Contemplation leads to a variety of enlightenment experiences such as jiànxìng (kensho in Japanese), and wù (satori in Japanese).
Once we have worked with any of the cross-over concentration practices described above, we will have experienced at least short periods of contemplation. For example, as we are counting breaths we may observe our mind detaching: instead of us forcing ourselves to concentrate on the breath, it may seem as if the breath has taken on an existence of its own, the mind an observer rather than a willful enactor of the process. In this way, the object of concentration effectively becomes the actor and we become the ones acted upon. This state of active observation without forceful intent is the essence of contemplation.
Initially, it may be difficult to maintain this state of awareness because there is a reflexive tendency to want to evaluate and analyze the experience which immediately brings us out of it. Some people mistakenly identify their first encounter with contemplation with an enlightenment experience. Although contemplation is a precursor to enlightenment experiences (and it's valuable to acknowledge progress made), if we congratulate ourselves or react with pride we can halt further progress.
Mystical Chan provides two directions for spiritual development: one grounded on seated forms of practice, the other grounded in our daily lives of activity. Traditionally, a common Chan approach to contemplation practice has been through the application of "mind puzzles." Initially, these were encounter dialogues, or "sayings of the great masters." (Contemporary historians and theologians have concluded, however, that they were most likely a socio-religious invention during the Song Dynasty intended to glorify earlier Tang masters, some of whom were likely invented through a fabricated storyline.[Note 2]) The more famous of these works include the Anthology of the Patriarchal Hall (952 CE), Records of the Transmission of the Lamp (c. 1005 CE), the Blue Cliff Record (c. 1130 CE), and The Gateless Barrier (c. 1250 CE). Here is an example of an early dialogue from the Record of the Transmission of the Lamp (quoted by Chung-Yuan, 1971, xi):
Ta-chu Hui-hai, an eighth-century Buddhist, once went to visit the great master Ma-tsu (Kiangsi Tao-i). The Master asked him, "Why do you come here?" Ta-chu replied, "I come seeking enlightenment." The Master said, "Why should you leave your home to wander about and neglect your own precious treasure? There is nothing I can give you. Why do you seek enlightenment from me?" The visitor pressed him for the truth: "But what is my treasure?" The Master answered, "It is he who has just asked the question. It contains everything and lacks nothing. There is no need to seek it outside yourself."
As Chan evolved during the Song, so too did the literary form of encounter dialogue. The dialogues were used as topics for sermons (Dharma talks), and over the centuries they were modified and appended, with each successive version adding new layers of commentaries, poems, commentaries of commentaries, commentaries of poems, etc.
From encounter dialogues arose gung-ans (koans), generally short, inexplicable, dialogues that could be used as seeds for contemplation. An example from the Book of Serenity (Cleary, 1990, p. 167):
Linji said to the assembly, "There is a true man with no rank always going out and in through the portals of your face. Beginners who have not yet witnessed it, look! Look! Then a monk came forward and said, "What is the true man of no rank?" Linji got down from the seat, grabbed and held him: the monk hesitated. Linji pushed him away and said, "The true man of no rank--what a piece of dry crap he is!"
Later, an alternative to the koan became popular: the hua-tou. The hua-tou, translates as "head word" or "critical phrase." The idea is to take an inscrutable question, like "Who is it who drags this corpse around?" and contemplate it until it opens itself up to understanding, revealing an enlightenment experience.
There are other common contemplation methods used by Chan practitioners. Negation practice, in which we negate our attachments to sensory experiences, helps us detach from the sensory world. Visualization practices engage us to imagine/invoke a celestial divine-form (archetypal image); that is, a primal emotion/instinct such as compassion, often represented in Mahayana Buddhism by Avalokiteśvara.
Unlike concentration practices that condition the mind to focus intently for extended periods of time, contemplation practice detaches the mind from pre-existing bonds formed from engagement with the sensory realm. Detachment prevents us from identifying ourselves with sensory experience help us focus attention in the present moment. It also brings mental clarity and harmony of mind and body.
And it leads to meditation--samadhi--described next.
Stage Four: Meditation (samādhi)
As we become progressively more adept at contemplation, the mind becomes more powerful, awareness more keen, and the body and mind in greater harmony with one another. At some point, we naturally and automatically enter the next and last stage of the spiritual path: meditation, or samādhi. Samādhi is characterized by the absence of an individual self. With no self around, there is also no actor present who is meditating, i.e., subject and object merge into one.
With full abandonment of ego-self and full integration of Buddha Self come additional spiritual experiences such as divine union and the birth of an immortal fetus (yang tan shao), marking the integration of our male female aspects, and later, the germination of the seed that arises from that integration.
The first stage of meditation arises during contemplation when everything vanishes: only the object of contemplation remains. We, the actor, vanish as we enter a realm of timelessness and spacelessness called samprajnata samādhi, or savikalpa samādhi.
During the second stage of meditation, the object of contemplation vanishes as well, and we enter the Void. This state of meditation is called asamprajnata samādhi, or nirvikalpa samādhi, and is refrenced in the Buddha's Eightfold Path as the eighth and last step on the journey: samyak-samādhi, or perfection of meditation. In asamprajnata samādhi, the ego self has been completely transcended: there is no subject, no object, no actor, and nothing acted upon. We merge with the infinite in timeless, spaceless, unity.
There is no method involved in attaining meditation; that is, there is nothing we can do to make ourselves meditate. The only way to get there is to, step-by-step, develop our ability to concentrate and contemplate. Once we enter meditation, however, methods vanish.
The first time we encounter meditation can be startling and we may find we can't maintain it. The more we engage with it, however, the more easily we can move into it when we choose. Sitting practice, now, begins with pointing the mind at an object of concentration and watching the mind as it becomes subsumed by the object (samprajnata samādhi) and then disappears entirely (asamprajnata samādhi). When we come out of meditation, we return to the sensory realm where the ego again resides, but our mind is unfettered by the ego because it has observed reality through a lens devoid of it.
Hsu Yun described his perspective of the culminating experience of Chan in the last stanza of his ox herding series:
The Concluding Song
In the beginning there was nothing, nor was anything lacking.
The paper was blank. We pick up the paint brush and create the scene...
The landscape, the wind whipping water into waves.
Everything depends upon the stroke of our brush.
Our Ox lets the good earth lead it, Just as our brush allows our hand to move it.
Take any direction, roam the world to its farthest edge.
All comes back to where it started... to blessed Emptiness.
I have given a brief and general overview of the sequence of stages a Chan practitioners will traverse. My intent has not been to provide a guide or manual for Chan practice, but to try to distinguish Chan as a spiritual/ascetic journey from its popularized image as something else. There are many articles on this website available to the reader interested in starting or resuming Chan practice and I am happy to offer suggestions and respond to questions should they arise.
The mystical tradition of Chan is a valuable vehicle for anyone seeking answers to life's most challenging questions, and solutions to the struggles and hardships endemic to the human condition. Chan’s journey begins by climbing in, closing the door, buckling up, and saying: “let’s go!”
Chuan Zhi
Note 1) This notion, which some also refer to as “just sitting,” is a fairly recent development in the history of Zen, as the foundation of Chan in the Mahayana Sutras makes no reference to non-directive techniques, but rather begin with concentration, or directed-meditation, approaches (see the Surangama Sutra, for examples).
Note 2) See, for example, Patriarchs on Paper, A Critical History of Medieval Chan Literature, by Alan Cole, University of California Press, 2016.
References
Mindfulness-based stress reduction and health benefits, A meta-analysis by Paul Grossman, Ludger Niemann, Stefan Schmidt, Harald Walach, Journal of Psychosomatic Research, July 2004, Volume 57, Issue 1, Pages 35–43.
Mindfulness Meditation for Substance Use Disorders: A Systematic Review, by Aleksandra Zgierska, MD, PhD, David Rabago, MD, Neharika Chawla, MS, Kenneth Kushner, PhD, Robert Koehler, MLS, and Allan Marlatt, PhD, Substance Abuse 2009 Oct–Dec; 30(4): 266–294.
Beyond Medications and Diet: Alternative Approaches to Lowering Blood Pressure : A Scientific Statement From the American Heart Association, by Robert D Brook, Lawrence J. Appel, Melvyn Rubenfire, Gbenga Ogedegbe, John D. Bisognano, William J. Elliott, Flavio D. Fuchs, Joel W. Hughes, Daniel T. Lackland, Beth A. Staffileno, Raymond R. Townsend and Sanjay Rajagopalan (April 22, 2013). Hypertension 61 (6): 1360–83.
Meditation states and traits: EEG, ERP, and neuroimaging studies, by Cahn BR, Polich J., Psychol Bull. 2006 Mar;132(2):180-211.