A Buddhist's Diary November 14th 2009

I started this diary with the intention of doing an entry a day. Idiotic considering that (1) I didn't have internet access at home, and (2) I spend half the time wandering around in my van, and internet does not figure high in my list of priorities.

But I think there is a better reason for not trying to write about Zen Buddhism every day, especially for me. I do not particularly want to get into the esoterica of the philosophy. True, I could have listed one of those amazing Sanscrit or Hindi words each day and explained them, to myself as well as my diary, but why?

Like Christianity, the essence of Buddhism is simple. Old texts are stacked to the dim, smokey ceilings of Tibetan Buddhist temples, and there are scholar monks who spend their lives studying them. Have they found any priceless wisdom in their studies? I can recite a short version of the Heart Sutra, but the entire Heart Sutra is enormous. Part of the reason is the number of repetitions, which made sense in the days when most people had to rely on their memories, but surely not now?

I could have written about the daily challenges of applying both detachment and universal compassion to every-day life, but I think we all perceive differently, so that the struggle to be a dispassionate Zen Buddhist is a completely personal thing.

A monk and his teacher walked by a stream on a freezing cold day. The monk said 'The poor fish are cold'. The teacher said 'You cannot know whether the fish are feeling cold or not.'

The monk was suitably reprimanded. But couldn't he have said to his teacher 'You cannot know whether I know the fish feel cold or not'.
Well I call this the intellectual fox-trot. It is much simpler to walk carefully, think carefully and take careful action.

I find that the bells and whistles of Buddhism are alluring but not necessary.