Wednesday, June 6, 2012

Knee-Deep in the River of Zen

My visit to the Shinsho-ji Kokusai Zendo in 1993 resulted in a brief friendship with an American exchange student named Brian.

Upon completing his undergraduate degree in history, Brian submitted a thesis proposal to study the role of feudalism in contemporary Japanese martial arts. His proposal was accepted and a year later he managed to get a Japanese university to foot the bill for a six-month stay in Kyoto.

His weekly routine in Japan's cultural capital involved classes given in English at the university, Japanese language classes, and daily workouts at the oldest jujistu dojo in the city. Wanting to round out his Japan experience even more, he managed to find the money and time to take a few days to visit the zendo after hearing about it from one of the members of the dojo.

He had never been out of the US before and every day he spent in Japan was a revelation. I enjoyed spending time with him for this reason alone. I had been in the country for two years by that time and his questions and comments on life at the zendo helped me see certain things I took for granted with fresh eyes. His enthusiasm for life at the zendo also impressed Seigo-san. As with me, Seigo took extra time to tutor Brian on any aspect of zendo life he expressed interest in.

Brian had studied Thai kickboxing in his home state of Tennessee for seven years before switching to the Japanese art of jujitsu. His knees just couldn't take the demands of the former, and the damage he had done to them frequently impeded his progress in the latter.

As Leonard Cohen once said in an interview: 'Zen is great for the mind, but hard on the knees.' Life at the zendo amplified the pain in Brian's knees in more ways than one. In addition to the demands of sitting cross-legged during zazen, sitting seiza for breakfast and dinner probably contributed more to his increased discomfort.

During the week Brian visited the zendo, a German literature professor named Peter who taught at a university in Tokyo, came to stay with another German colleague. Peter was fluent in German, English and Japanese, and his effortless ability to sit in full-lotus position for zazen impressed everyone including Seigo.

On Brian's last day at the zendo, he asked Peter for a favour. He had some very specific questions for Seigo, but since his command of Japanese wasn't the greatest and Seigo's command of English was even more rudimentary, he hoped Peter could translate for them. Peter was more than happy to oblige.

Several of the guests joined the three of them in the lounge that afternoon to share in the exchange. I remember there being a fairly harmonious group of people visiting that week, and all of us looked forward to hearing what Seigo had to say. Brian set up a camcorder on a borrowed tripod to capture the exchange for future reference and asked me to operate it.

He began with broad questions about the benefits of zazen. Seigo's face took on a serious, almost sombre expression as he answered the questions through Peter. He spoke of how daily meditation would benefit Brian's studies, his martial arts practice, and his personal relationships. He also spoke of the determination and discipline it would require, but promised the rewards would be immediate, measurable and long-lasting if he persisted with this practice.

With a competent translator for the exchange, Seigo explained in great detail the importance of posture in enhancing proper breathing during meditation, and the benefits of doing it on an empty stomach. As to the literal meanings of the words uttered during the morning sutras, he told Brian not to concern himself with them. Their primary purpose was to 'wake up' the lungs and body before morning zazen.

Finally Brian asked the question I believe weighed most on his mind: Would the pain in his knees during zazen diminish or at least get easier to bear?

Seigo became even more serious, almost dramatic as he spoke of the pain getting worse and worse. With one hand he wordlessly drew a rising arc in the air, curving up and up, suddenly dropping it in an apparent indication of when the pain would stop completely.

Brian moved to the edge of his chair and asked Seigo to clarify when this would happen. Peter translated.

For the first time during the exchange Seigo smiled a deep, full-faced smile. He looked directly at Brian and responded in English:

'When you die!'

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