For my own practice, this grounding has always been hara breathing. I’ve written about my experience and how, without any theoretical background, I “saw” what I have learned to call the Unborn.

 

By Angel Roberto Puente

 

Bankei Yōtaku’s teachings succumbed to a belief that persists in today’s world: that only hard work is rewarded.

It goes along with other unexamined premises: if it’s expensive, it’s good, more is better, and simple is lazy.

The idea of hard work applied to zazen produces an almost obsessive attachment to the cushion, as if it were the only place to find the elusive “enlightenment” that is dangled in front of students.

Bankei had already paid the price before he recognized the Unborn. He sat on stones without cushioning until his buttocks bled. Then continued in a hut until he got sick, but still didn’t stop. He had been told that zazen was the only way to resolve the doubt that gave him no rest. He eventually saw that it wasn’t true.

“You can attain the Dharma without putting yourself through the arduous struggle I did. I want you to remember that carefully as you listen to what I say.”

Bankei began to teach a simple instruction, “Abide in the Unborn,” which was simply putting the horses in front of the cart. He knew that all practice had this as its basis. Of course, his declarations made in front of crowds of more than 5,000 people caused a big ripple in the Zen world:

“If the Buddha-mind is clearly realized, that’s enough. You need to do nothing else— no practice, no precepts, no zazen, or koan study. Nothing like that. You’ll be free from care, everything will be taken care of, just by being as you are.”

Even today many people will be incredulous. But consider this: the field of attention is ever-present; you can’t create it or turn it off. All objects are inside this field. When you perceive something it’s because attention and the object have merged. This is always going on.

Bankei asks us to back up and see the initial non-conceptual contact with objects. Then, to acknowledge the presence of these sensory objects without fixating on them by narrowing our attention.

The vast clear space becomes our home:

“Wherever you are standing, that place is the Unborn. Whatever you want to do, you can do it. If you want to recite sutras or do zazen, observe precepts, recite the Nembutsu, or the Daimoku, you should do it. If you’re a farmer or a tradesman and you want to work your farm or your business, then go ahead, do it; whatever it is, that will be your personal samadhi. My part in this is simply to tell you about it and to try to get you to confirm the Buddha-mind you were all given when you were born.”

He also gives zazen its rightful place:

“Now, in zazen, it’s a matter of the Buddha-mind sitting at rest. It’s the Buddha-mind doing continuous zazen. Zazen isn’t limited to the time you sit. That’s why, around here, if people have something to do while they’re sitting, they’re free to get up and do it. It’s up to them, whatever they’ve a mind to do.”

In the end, for the establishment, it was just easier to tell people “just do zazen,” or entertain them with koans. Meanwhile, time that could be spent dealing with the troubling aspects of both interior and exterior life is lost.

I have taken to heart the teachings of Bankei. They are complete in themselves, but they are elevated. I believe that placing them in some kind of “grounding” would have assured that they entered the mainstream.

For my own practice, this grounding has always been hara breathing. I’ve written about my experience and how, without any theoretical background, I “saw” what I have learned to call the Unborn.

I agree with Bankei when he says of zazen, “it’s a matter of the Buddha-mind sitting at rest…”. This “rest” is something that we can build on. Training in hara breathing not only produces this state of rest, it maintains it. It also becomes a warning system that allows us to perceive any departure from it.

Following the breath is the most recommended practice.

We can augment this practice by using our belly. Very few would relate the belly to the seat of breathing. Yet, it’s quite obvious, if you observe a newborn.

The history of breath cultivation is ancient. In yoga, it spans about 5,000 years. References to breathing techniques and the energy produced: prana, are found in the Vedas. In China, a group of breath-control techniques called circulating qi/breath (xingqi) was developed and practiced from the Warring States period (c. 475-221 BCE) to the present. In Japan, Neidan, or internal alchemy, developed in China during the Tang dynasty (618-907 CE) for the cultivation of inner energy for health, longevity, and spiritual development, was introduced to Rinzai Zen by Hakuin Ekaku and known as Hara breathing.

There are now good resources for learning this essential component of deep meditation:

1) Roshi Kenneth Setsuzan Kushner

has created a free training, that teaches all the basics.

2) Yuki Shiina has created a system. In Japan, it is called Zen Kokyu and it is based on the teachings of Hakuin.

Any beginner would benefit greatly from these two sources

The original Buddhist formulation of 16 steps in the use of breathing was gradually abbreviated to the first two steps as Buddhism traveled the world. In How the Steps of Mindfulness of Breathing Decreased from Sixteen to Two, Bhikkhu Anālayo explains how this came to be. He further adds: “The tendency to emphasize focusing on the breath and a reductionism to the first tetrad continues in the present, evident in the fact that at times publications on mindfulness of breathing only cover the first four steps. The general attitude can be conveniently illustrated with a statement by Ledi Sayādaw (1999/2011: 40), according to which “the first tetrad is the main and essential stage.”

The first two steps were just about following and observing the breath.

For many students, this is the gist of the instructions they receive: “Follow the breath.”

Some will be given the abbreviation of the third and fourth steps, “relax the body.” A careful reading of these steps shows that there is much more involved. First, there is the instruction to breathe sensitive to the entire body, and in the next step, to calm “body fabrications,” which refers to the calming of the breath. Hara breathing encapsulates these steps.

In general, the first part of hara breathing is to completely relax the body, especially the abdominal area, and to discontinue the use of these muscles to initiate exhalation. The out-breath is used to accomplish this by following it in a “melting” of the muscles from head to feet. This allows all the muscles around and in the back of the rib cage to be activated during inhalation and exhalation.

In my practice, the most important aspect is to become aware of the space below the belly button and to let this ” objectless image” expand throughout the body. Because space is without form or substance it is also devoid of all qualities. In effect, it mirrors Bankei’s Unborn.

With practice, doing this quiets the mind quickly, slows the breath and allows giving full attention to the process. The Unborn becomes an organic living presence from instance to instance.

As this training becomes habitual the truth of Bankei’s, “If the Buddha-mind is clearly realized, that’s enough” will become evident. Practice becomes continuous. The belly will become the physical counterpart to the ethereal Unborn, and the key to its manifestation in daily life.

 

Photo: Pixabay

Editor: Dana Gornall

 

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