
The realization that everything is empty imagination is itself an empty, imaginary realization. It’s part of the story we tell ourselves about our experiences. The mind, being a compulsive storyteller, even makes up stories about the absence of stories.
By Johnathon Lee
Peace is nothingness—the absence of all things, and the presence of that absence.
The Daoists call it zuowang. It’s usually translated as sitting in oblivion or sitting and forgetting. I like “Sit and omit,” because that’s what you’re doing. This practice developed before Buddhism came to China, and it changed after it arrived. I’m going to mostly talk about the pre-Buddhist version which is coincidentally similar to jhana (Buddhist trance).
Soto Zen was my entry into the Dharma.
In Zen, you’re taught to be present with a nonjudgmental attitude while letting all things come and go as they will. I’ve heard a lot of Zen teachers say, “You don’t have to actually clear your mind—that’s impossible.”
I believed that because I didn’t know any better. That’s why you should always study broadly and try lots of methods. Teachers are just people, not oracles. Most parrot what their teachers told them. The “beyond words and letters” teaching in Zen can make people easy to manipulate. Never mind that Bodhidharma supposedly carried a copy of the Lankavatara Sutra with him, and that the old Zen books are full of old Zen guys quoting old Buddhist books. Nothing to see here, move along…
Study, study, study and learn to think critically.
Learn to use deduction and spot logical fallacies. You’ll be able to serve people better. Alright, now that that disclaimer is out of the way, we can get to it.
“Sitting in oblivion–what could one not be oblivious of? First one abandons outward manifestations, then one becomes oblivious of that which causes these manifestations. On the inside one is unaware that there is a body-self; on the outside one never knows there are Heaven and Earth. Only thus can one become fully vacant and unify with the changes, and there will be nothing that is not understood (Guo Xiang).”
That sounds like something more than mindful detachment, doesn’t it? They’re talking about non-experience altogether. Besides, it’s impossible to have an experience without being attached to it. “If there’s appearance, there is grasping (Mahayänasutralamkara).”
For the mind to process anything, it has to grasp onto it, if only a little. Attention has to grab a hold of the stimulus and turn it into a conscious experience.
The point of zuowang, as well as Shamatha and jhana practice, is to be totally free and easy—free of anything that comes and goes.
“My limbs and physical structure fall away. I do away with perception, separate myself from body-form and let go of all knowledge. This is what I mean by sitting in oblivion…
Be silent and without an active mind that interacts with the world, and the ten thousand things will each return to their root. Each return to their root and rest in unknowing dark. However, the moment you try to know this state, you have already affected a separation from it. Don’t ask its name, don’t measure its foundation—it’s the spontaneous life of each being.
For a Daoist, the point of meditation is to merge with the Dao. For Buddhists, it’s to awaken to Buddhahood or enter nirvana. For Vedantins, it’s to become one with God or the True Self. For me, it’s to be at peace. To feel fulfilled for no reason at all. I need that. Who doesn’t? Besides, the Dao, enlightenment and nirvana are all empty and imaginary, just like everything else. So why not just relax?
Everything’s imaginary because we only experience the symbolic appearances of things. Beer isn’t bitter and sugar isn’t sweet. They’re just matter, so they only seem bitter and sweet. They’re not good or bad either, we’ve just judged them that way based on our preferences. We live in a universe of symbols, where nothing is as it seems. Things not being as they seem is the way things really are. Make sense? Good.
Everything’s empty because things have no appearance or significance apart from relative imagination.
The universe is full of empty buckets we fill with water, or canvases we splash paint onto. Even the most lofty or mystical things are like that—including enlightenment. So, we can either keep getting wrapped up in the show, or walk off the stage and take a seat in the audience.
Zhuangzhi called that “Free and easy wandering.”
To believe any of this, we have to understand it, and that usually requires altered states or peak experiences. It’s difficult to believe that this is all imagination if you haven’t seen the power of imagination. One way to do that is to stop imagining and see what happens. There are two basic steps to that.
“Practitioners must first discard all concepts of [presence], then proceed to discard all ideas of [absence]. These two are, moreover, identified as mental projections, i.e., illusory mental imaginations that are projected outward and create an apparent reality…
‘Forgetting (omitting)’ both means the reorganization of ordinary consciousness to absolute consciousness and again from absolute consciousness to no consciousness at all in complete oblivion. Yet the sagely state is not nothingness but a state of radiance and surging activity (Kohn, 2010).
…even though the mind is no-mind, it shines forth in numinous radiance (Chang).”
What we get to is what Chan calls shining silence (mozhao). The Pali Canon calls it luminous mind, or luminous state of mind (pabhassara citta). This whole approach is almost the opposite of mindfulness or Vipassana.
A lot of people say that all we need is mindfulness, or that Vipassana practice leads to liberating insight.
That isn’t true for everyone. It’s dogmatic and makes people feel inadequate if they can’t do it or if nothing happens. For this approach, mindfulness is what gets you into the door. We sit and omit because we’ve already had insights into the way things are and now we’re done fucking around with them.What kind of person needs to meditate to realize that all things are impermanent or that attachment causes suffering?
Most people figure that out on their own, and that’s why they’ve sought out such practices to begin with. Why beat a dead horse? Bury it and plant a tree.
Understanding how things are mind-designed is what meditation really helps with. We don’t need to be mindful to do that—we need to stop being mindful, aka no-thought (wunian) and no-mind (wuxin). Modern Zennists equate that with detached observation, but these old books show that it’s the literal negation of thought and mind.
“In practice, meditators proceed from the ordinary worldly assumption that everything exists to the enlightened vision that all is empty. This is the first stage of mystery, decreasing, and oblivion. Once this state is reached, the conviction that all is empty becomes in itself a form of attachment.
Emptiness becomes an established way of looking at the world, a kind of mental state, a created illusion. It is therefore necessary to proceed further and go beyond emptiness (Kohn, 2010).”
The realization that everything is empty imagination is itself an empty, imaginary realization. It’s part of the story we tell ourselves about our experiences. The mind, being a compulsive storyteller, even makes up stories about the absence of stories.
“Things exist. Things matter,” is one extreme. “Things don’t exist. Things don’t matter,” is another. Sit and omit them both. What you wind up with is silence. Relief. “It’s the spontaneous life of each being (Zhuangzhi).”
Just do whatever. After you’ve cleared out all the garbage, just live true to your nature.
“What if someone’s nature is to harm others?” Ha, and you call me the cynic! Harming others is a means a to an end. If the ends don’t matter to you, then there’s no need for the means. People who hurt others are passionate people who are invested in the comings and goings of the world.
When everything’s omitted, there’s no reason to cause harm. “Then there’s no reason to help, either.” The sun shines without trying. Rain falls without wanting to. When we omit purpose, there’s finally nothing standing between us and our purpose.
“Alright, so how do you practice zuowang?”
We’re going to practice thought fasting. Intention is key here. “I’m sitting to focus on nothing so that I can be at peace,” or something to that effect.
Relaxing the body, we’re turning attention inward, aware of the movement and stillness of the mind. When a thought arises, respond to it with a gentle, “wu,” or “no,” or even, “Kah.” Then reaffirm your intention to focus on nothingness. When the next thought comes, do it again and again.
You’ll start to notice what it feels like to think. There’s a tension to it that starts before the thought fully forms. There’s also a deeper, softer, and faster stream of thought beneath the main inner monologue. This rapid thought sort of assembles the monologue to come.
Aware of this, you can start interrupting the mind mid-thought. “Maybe I should-“ “Wu.” “This feels-“ “Wu.” “I-“ “Wu, wu, wu. All the way home.”
Then, when we tune into the feeling of a thought forming, we can intercept it even before it forms, wu-ing the impulse itself.
When our attention wanders to a sensation, wu it and bring it back to thought fasting. All our focus is on the method, losing ourself in the method.
We can also focus on searching for the next thought or sensation. “The next thought isn’t born, if the last thought is cut off (Farong, Song of Mind).” Be seeking the next thought, we cut off the current one, since thoughts tend to stream along with each influencing the next. I find that thoughts suddenly get bashful when you go looking for them.
As you get immersed in the method, the external world will slowly start to fade away. Your body might grow light and spacious. Sights and sounds might disappear, or you might notice a soft golden light behind your eyes lids. You might notice positive feelings appearing for no reason. It’s okay to enjoy them, or even concentrate on them for a bit, but thought fasting is the main intent.
If your mind is too unruly or there’s a lot of anxiety, do some relaxation exercises and remind yourself that everything’s imaginary and empty. If your meditation goes well, that’s great. If it doesn’t, that’s okay too. We’re not trying to achieve something here. We’re trying to stop caring about achievement and failure because they’re both silly.
We’re sitting and omitting all the silly things so that, for the first time in our lives, we can be at peace. Then we can bring that peace into the silly world.
Photo: Pixabay
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Johnathon Lee is blind, autistic, and sick of your crap. He’s also a psychology undergrad, Chan teacher in the Oxhead School, and very poor. Please PayPal https://www.paypal.com/paypalme/JPendall
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