In the evening of a thousand peaks, I close

my eyes.

Among humans, myriad thoughts are trivial.

Serenely I sit on the mat.

In solitude I face an open window.

The incense has burned out and a dark night is long.

The moon has risen over the highest peak.

— Ryokan (1758 – 18 February 1831)

Ryōkan spent much of his time writing poetry, doing calligraphy, and communing with nature. His poetry is often very simple and inspired by nature. He loved children and sometimes forgot to beg for food because he was playing with the children of the nearby village. Ryōkan refused to accept any position as a priest or even as a "poet." In the tradition of Zen his quotes and poems show he had a good sense of humor and didn't take himself too seriously. (Wikipedia)

I work with many people, young and old, whose incense has burned out and they are stuck in the long dark night. Our work together can open that serene space of contemplation and allow us to think about the assumptions and experiences that have contributed to their depression. We engage in the work of understanding and allow the opportunity for insight for change to be realized. We use myriad thoughts to guide us through the long dark light and together we can discover the thousand peaks illuminated by the moon.

 If views of delusion and awakening are done away with and interpretations of turning toward and turning away are cut off, then this mind is as lucid and clear as the bright sun and this nature is vast and open as empty space.

Right where the person stands, s/he emits light and moves the earth, shining throughout the ten directions. Those who see this light fully realize the absolute truth that all things are unborn. When you arrive at such a time, naturally you are in tacit accord with this mind and this nature.

-Ta-hui (1089-1163)

Over the years I have come to appreciate the impact of the here and now experiences my clients have when we are in session. The conversations are typically about what has happened in their life or what they fear will happen in the days to come. Over the course of time a unique relationship develops between us, and I become aware of the patterns of turning away and turning towards the assumptions that inhibit or compel my client’s efforts to deepen their understanding of themselves. When we shift our focus to the patterns and what is being felt in the moment, the opportunity arises to fully realize that all things are unborn, which refers to the eternal essence of life that transcends birth and death. It’s a realization that connects us to the light that shines in all directions. 

 Search out the point

where your thoughts

arise and disappear.

See where a thought

arises and vanishes.

Keep this point in mind

and try to break right through it.

Take up this awareness

as if holding a sharp sword in your hand.

-Han Shan (1545-1623)

Holding the sharp sword of wisdom, Manjushri demonstrates the process of cutting through our assumptions and beliefs that prevent us from exploring our thoughts and feelings. Our world is in a continuous state of evolving, the changes are subtle, like water dripping on stone and it is easy to form conclusions about ourselves and others. We desire a predictable world, and traumatic events can be devastating to our clearly defined reality. The process of searching for that point where thoughts arise and disappear is a fundamental part of therapy and psychoanalysis. We become aware of the subtle and nuanced changes that can deepen our self-awareness, work through traumatic experiences,  and revise our conclusions.

 After Missing the Recluse on the Western Mountain

To your hermitage here on the top of the mountain

I have climbed, without stopping, these ten miles.

I have knocked at your door, and no one answered;

I have peeped into your room,

At your seat beside the table.

Perhaps you are out riding,

Or fishing, more likely, in some autumn pool.

Sorry though I am to be missing you,

You have become my meditation.

The beauty of the grasses, fresh with rain,

And close beside the window the music of pines,

I take into my being all that I see and hear,

Soothing my senses, quieting my heart;

And though there be neither host nor guest,

Have I not had a visit complete?

The afternoon fades, I make my way

Back down the mountain.

Why should I wait for you any longer?

-Ch-iu Wei

Our lives change in fundamental ways when someone we love dies.  Death, along with love, really are the unopened gifts that can pass by. Rilke captures a poignant link in our daily lives. The loss of a loved one is traumatic and the mourning that follows dramatically alters our lives. The journey is difficult, our fears about the unknown are brought into our conscious awareness with overwhelming force. The shock and disbelief at the beginning eventually gives way to deep sadness, anger, and confusion. Our minds struggle to reorient to a life without someone who is always there. When I am sharing the therapy space with someone who is grieving, we take into our being all that we see and hear. We find healthy ways to soothe painful thoughts and feelings. We use the time to make our way back down the mountain and into a new life.

 Wanting to go to the eastern cliff

Setting out now after

How many years

Yesterday I used the vines

To pull myself up

But halfway there

Wind and mist made

The going tough

The narrow path grabbed

At my clothes

The moss so slippery

I couldn’t proceed

So I stopped right here

Beneath this cinnamon tree

Used a cloud as a pillow

And went to sleep

-Han-shan

I think of the time someone walks into my office for an appointment as an opportunity to pause. When the door closes, and they take their seat or lie down on the couch we share a space in time that allows us to consider the thoughts and feelings they are experiencing that day. Their journey is the context for our conversation. We focus on the goals that bring them into treatment and the struggles that are making the journey tough going. There are times when it feels like the path is covered in slippery moss and it feels impossible to proceed. We can pause and use the time to consider the obstacles with our open minds and hearts. The shared space allows us to explore new possibilities. When we sleep, we dream, and in our dreaming anything is possible. Our creative self can be used to open our minds to the waking dream of change and renewal.

 Know the essence of mind.

Its intrinsic essence is pure clarity.

It is essentially the same as a Buddha.

Know the functions of mind.

Its functions produce the treasury of teachings.

When its activity is always silent,

Myriad illusions become suchness.

 -Tao-hsin (580-651)

To be essentially the same as a Buddha does not imply some omnipotent grandiose sense of self. The effort to quiet our thinking and connect to the present moment allows clarity to emerge and provide us with an opportunity to understand our thoughts and feelings in a loving and compassionate way. Our fears and anger are functions in our mind. They emerge in response to experiences and influence our engagement in the world. Our tendency to be as others want us to be is a fundamental part of life. We become ashamed or resentful when the needs of others dominate our lives in unyielding ways. The myriad illusions are the truths we have cultivated from those experiences. The serenity we all seek is the essence of mind.  By giving ourselves an opportunity to pause and sit as a Buddha in a safe space we can achieve moments of quiet that will allow new truths based on compassion and loving-kindness to be cultivated.

 The moon’s appearance, a river of stars,

snow-clad pines, clouds hovering on mountain peaks.

In darkness, they glow with brightness.

In shadows, they shine with a splendid light.

Like the dreaming of a crane flying in empty space,

like the clear, still water of an autumn pool,

endless eons dissolve into nothingness,

each indistinguishable from the other.

In this illumination all striving is forgotten.

-Hung Chih Cheng Chueh (1091-1157)

 

There is a common misconception of the Buddhist concept of nothingness or emptiness. It is not a reference to the absence of things but rather the essence of the interconnection of all things. This essence is the clear still water that is overshadowed by our worries and strivings for success. We fall into a rigid orientation to ourselves and the world that classifies experiences as good or bad. We need our capacity to solve problems and to make healthy and morally sound choices. They are tools to be acquired and refined with experience. These tools are the river of stars and snow-clad pines and clouds that hover on mountain peaks. When we pause with an open mind and an open heart and reflect on what we do, the opportunity is there to experience the illumination that reveals the brightness in the dark and the splendid light embedded in the shadows. All the different parts of who we are dissolve into the clear cool water of nothingness, and we can experience a moment of enlightenment that transcends the rigid constraints on ourselves and discover the dreaming of a crane flying in empty space.