Awakening in the Charnel Grounds

Hidden Lamp Case 9: Seven Wise Women in the Charnel Ground

Pointer: 

What if everything really was OK? 

What if OK wasn’t a condition that you enter or leave, but the fundamental nature of being?

What if there wasn’t a problem, what if you didn’t need to get rid of anything?

What if who you think you are is as real as last night’s dream? Fleeting ephemeral, creative and flowing, blossoming and vanishing moment by moment.

What if you could rest back into the wholeness that you are?

You can. You are. To see it directly, I cite this case.

The Case:

Seven wise sisters planned a spring journey. One of them said, “Sisters instead of going to a park to enjoy the spring flowers, let’s go to see the charnel grounds.” 1 in her sweetness she sets the trap; watch out, this one swings manjushri’s sword

The other said, “That place is full of decaying corpses. What is such a place good for?” 2 wise doubt; what is such a place good for?

The first women replied, “Let’s just go. Very good things are there.” 3 goodness, who is this lady–freeing us from good and bad, right and wrong–does such a place even exist?…

When they arrived, one of them pointed to a corpse and said, “There is a person’s body. Where has the person gone?” 4 I won’t say she’s here, but I also wouldn’t say she’s gone

“What” another said, “What did you say?” And all seven sisters were immediately enlightened. 5 WHAT? What just happened?

Inda, Lord of the Gods, was moved by their awakening and showered flowers down onto them. He offered them whatever they needed for the rest of their lives. 6 are their lives over or just beginning?

One of the sisters replied, “We have everything we need.” 7 Do you? Have everything you need? What could possibly be lacking?

“But please give us a tree without roots, some land without light or shade, and a mountain valley where a shout does not echo.” 8 foolish, rubbish these ladies have gone mad!

“Ask anything else, holy ladies,” replied Indra, “and I will gladly provide it. But I don’t have those things to give you.” 9 even the god of gods can’t give it to you

“If you don’t have them,” said the woman, “how can you help others liberate themselves?” 10 who are these others?

At this, Indra took the sisters to visit the Buddha.

When the Buddha learned why they had come, he said, “As far as that’s concerned, Indra, none of the arhants has the slightest clue either. Only great bodhisattvas understand this matter.” 11 How great the field of formless compassion; do you understand?

Poem

The corpse rests on the earth

Like the buddha’s sleeping lion posture.

Here is the buddha’s body, where did the buddha go?

Right here, right here!

A breeze blows through this rootless tree

In the open field–all at onceness!

So that’s the case. Now I want to enter the koan as a teaching tool. Each of these lines are pointing to aspects of our spiritual life and practice. Koans give us a framework to see the details of the spiritual life.

So, in this koan we have the seven wise sisters. A small community of women, perhaps some are young, some older. Perhaps some are mothers, some elders, some crones. Perhaps it is the eldest, feeling her own fragility, who suggests; let’s go to the charnel grounds. 

It’s a spring day. Probably around this time of year. The darkness of winter lingering in the early morning and evening; yet the flowers are blooming; the days are getting warmer.

Let’s go to the charnel ground. Perhaps there is an aspect of this every time we sit down to practice. Let’s go to the zendo, let’s go do zazen. Says one part of our minds. While another part says; wait–that practice is about doing nothing, sitting still, being quiet–what is such a place good for?

The dialogue between out two parts of the mind could look something like this:

Let’s rest in awareness.

What? Awareness is quiet and still. Bright and spacious–what is such a place good for? It's like dying…I'm not in control. How is this a good thing?

Rest; you mean give up all my efforting–what; that doesn’t seem like a good idea.

As we enter the charnel ground with these wise women, as we enter spring–zazen reminds us to rest. To rest back into our nature–awareness itself. Which is spacious, bright, whole, quiet and still. When we rest into our wholeness, we let go of egoic control, we stop playing the games of the mind, we see the mind for what it is. We see thoughts for what they are.

My teacher, Chozen Roshi would often teach me in sanzen using images. Its part of the zen school to bring in image metaphors for the nature of experience. I have been using the ocean; sinking back deep into the water. Sinking, resting below thought. Sinking into the deep stillness, quiet, spaciousness of mind’s nature. Aware and allowing, as thoughts appear and disappear like bubbles on the surface of the ocean. 

What is the relationship between the bubbling surface of the ocean and the darkness of the mariana trench? Do the bubbles disturb the depths? 

Do you have a supportive place you can connect with in the natural world, where you can just let go? Where you can rest your body and mind, into their nature. 

Someone yesterday told me that when they open their awareness to the space in the room it's like sitting in a forest. There is one.

The koan continues with one of the sisters saying: let’s just go–very good things are there.

The charnel grounds is the place where dead bodies are placed to be eaten by wild animals. It smells of decaying corpses, the bodies perhaps no longer recognizable as human. Perhaps there is a sense of the place being haunted by spirits, hungry ghosts, strange characters, those with morbid curiosities and fetishes.

Perhaps the charnel grounds are the places within our own hearts that we haven’t wanted to look at, to face.

Zazen and deep spiritual practice has this way of bringing to the surface undigested material from our lives. Our doubts, fears, judgements, ill wills, anxiety. It also has a way of opening us up to what is beyond our habits of identification / control. Both opening to the shadows of the heart and opening to the groundlessness of being can bring up trepidation, both are uncharted territory and threaten the ego’s grasp & control over our lives.

Good things can be found in the places that scare us. Perhaps its an opening towards a more inclusive awareness, empowerment, inner strength, deepening concentration, compassion, forgiveness, or deep acceptance. In spiritual practice we learn to sit with the demons of the mind, and see what they are made of. We learn to sit with what we call discomfort / pain, and investigate it with kindness / curiosity perhaps discovering that it isn’t as bad or scary as we thought.

I have found that even the label pain can cause me to avoid or react to a sensation, and when I peel off the label and sit in open presence with the sensation–it changes, it moves–there is space. It doesn’t necessarily go away, but my relationship to it shifts, something is opened up in the space of allowing.

Zazen invites us to sit on the edge of our knowing / of our comfort zone, right here–open to the unknown. Zazen invites us to die to ourselves. To all that we think we know about who we are and what the world is. In this dying, the universe is reborn through us, moment to moment.

At the charnel grounds; one sister points to a corpse and says: There is a person’s body, where did the person go?

Perhaps the other sisters were looking around, enjoying the sky views, the mountain crags, the flowers on the trees–thinking; this isn’t so bad. And another sister goes right for it. Look, look–we are here to learn, to let go of our attachments, to let in the reality of death. Let’s look at it. 

We can also do this in our spiritual lives. The mind starts to settle and quiet and open in zazen; and we find ourselves planning the garden, crafting letters to people in our heads, writing musical scores, singing songs, day-dreaming. It feels good to play in the spacious nature of mind, wait–where am I?

Right here is a person’s body, where is the person? What makes a person? Thoughts come and go, the body is taken up by the earth. Does anything remain?

As one Zen koan asks–When the light falls from your eyes, that final time. Where do you go?

The buddha, lying on his deathbed during his PariNirvana–where did the buddha go? Thich Nhat Hanh–where did he go? 

The you who started a Zen practice–where did they go?

Right here is a person’s body–where is the person? 

Master Rinzai says: The true person of no rank moves in and out of the face

One sister says: WHAT? WHAT DID YOU SAY?

What mind? What did you say? Turning awareness back on itself. Turning your giant elephant head back to look at the source of thought. WHAT? WHAT DID YOU SAY?

Another practice is: to imagine reigning in the thinking mind.

What happens when you reign in the thinking mind? Let the mind get quiet. Then look back at the source of thought. Look, feel, sense, listen back at the mind? 

Who are you when you don’t have thought as a reference point?

I remember naively saying to my teacher, Hogen Roshi during my first sesshin; if I stop thinking I won’t know who I am. He looked at me and said; Well that’s interesting.

Yes, interesting. This is the juice of the spiritual life. Who are you really? Can you stay with that inquiry, stay with the doubt and let the question work on you? Without needing to resolve it with the rational / intellectual parts of the mind? 

Then the sisters awaken together. 

When one of us awakens, don’t we all awaken? This is one of the most beautiful things about practicing in sangha. We enjoy each other’s openings. We benefit from the fruits of each other’s practice.

I have been reflecting on all the transformations I have witnessed living a monastic life. When someone takes responsibility for their anger/judgment and works on transforming it–the whole community benefits. But also when someone lets go of the burden of self–the burden of self is eased for us all. We feel lighter, less deluded in their presence. Someone’s determination can inspire. Someone’s compassion can soften us all. Someone’s vulnerability can open the flood gates of the heart. Someone’s samadhi can carry the whole room deeper into stillness. Whose practice is this anyway?

We are always practicing and awakening together. Even when we are alone. We are together.

I always feel blessed to sit in the zendo when my teachers are present. Their faith and spacious aware mind, carrying us all.

Then the sisters get their flowers; Indra rains down flowers on their awakening.

This is a good reminder for me to appreciate and savor openings. A moment of compassion, remembering to come back to the breath, being kind to ourselves, a period of concentration, the beauty and simplicity that opens up when walking the spiritual path. Enjoying the cup of tea, or stretching the body during body practice. The deep rest, the ease. The surrender.

I know for many of us the habit is to ignore these small successes (mainly due to the inner critic’s caution: don’t want to get too attached, don’t want to fall into pride, don’t want to give up on efforting) And so instead of re-enforcing these moments of mindfulness, returning, resting, ease and compassion–we reinforce the critic!

To receive the love and beauty, spaciousness & silence, creativity and brightness of the world opening up in our spiritual lives; can be disarming–things may not be as we think they are.

Indra is so moved by their practice that he offers them anything they need for the rest of their lives.

They say–we have all we need.

An expression of true satisfaction / contentment

Do you have all you need? Right now, right here. Not what you think you might need for retirement. Or even in ten minutes from now. Right here, right now. What else do you need? Is everything you need provided? Can you relax into having your basic needs met? Let the breath breathe you, feel your body supported by the earth. Can you let practice be that simple? Attention in present moment experience–is there anything outside; THIS?

Well these women are Zen adepts–so they go on to test Indra. You god of gods, offering to give us anything. Who are you? What kind of insight do you have? How deep is your compassion and understanding?

Then they make their request; in the form of a testing koan. They ask for:

A rootless tree

A field without light or shadow

An echoless valley

Here we have images of emptiness.

Stillness walking–this rootless tree of the body. Dancing through spaciousness. Traversing the groundless ground. When walking, what if you took the perspective that you were still, and everything else was moving. Everything, your entire life–is coming to you.

Even sitting here in the zendo. You don’t have to make the breath happen, sounds come to you, shapes and colors come to you, mu to is here with you always.

An open field –the image of non-discrimination, non-indentification, can you let be with what is? Letting this moment of sensations die, so that another can emerge? Not thinking good or bad, right or wrong. Just letting the sensations happen you?!

An echoless valley–all sound only happens once, each moment only happens once. There are no repeats. The past as it arises in memory, arises NOW, arises here. The memory fades. Can you let it disappear, without picking it back up, without making echoes?

Functioning in emptiness is the way of the bodhisattva. When we rest our self-centered thinking, when we lay it down–like the buddha in the sleeping lion’s posture. We open to the vast field of potential energy–it is from here that true compassion arises.

Vows take hold of us when we empty out. Big vows. Vows to awaken, to live from love, to give up the self-improvement project, to share the dharma, to nurture wise community.

Living a life of practice is continual humility and empowerment, we are humbled by the truths of impermanence, inter-connection, emptiness–we are empowered to taste our wholeness, the unborn, the life of the universe being played out through us.

If you don’t know this life as the unbounded life of Buddha nature–how will you help others liberate themselves?