Much the same

There's a groundswell of faith activity around the world which was perhaps not expected, given historical attitudes toward people with disabilities and/or shut-ins.

Here is the Zoom studio/zendo of Manzoku-an, the converted tool shed.

 

It consists of a decade-old Mac mini on ethernet cable, with monitor, external cam, mic and speakers, facing a zero-gravity chair and bench serving as a table, with tea and a book (doubles as mousepad). Across the 9X13' room there's an old telephone table serving as an altar, with Shakyamuni and Kannon and their accessories. Kannon was two dollars at the local thrift.

I serve as doshi for two online groups, and sit with two others, all in this space. It doesn't take much. Get up, take two steps into camera view, do the rightward shuffle, bow, make offering, bow again, rotate two steps back, bow, remain in gassho (two hands together) while the online kokyo/doan chants and rings bells, bow three times with the online sangha, walk back, sit. Kinhin (walking meditation) is ten steps toward the other end of the hut, turn, ten steps back, in my case often with a walking stick, until the bell rings. People who don't have huts like mine do all this in their bedrooms; some do what they can from hospital beds. 

Covid sparked this kind of innovation worldwide. Now even many sanghas that returned to in-person sitting (or never stopped) have an unobtrusive laptop on a table in the corner of the zendo or Buddha hall, with offsite attenders participating in the only way (in many cases) they can. When visiting their websites, if you have a yen to sit in meditation with them but can't show up in person, check for a live video link. You'll be very much welcome. 

A fellow Soto priest in one of my groups lives in Ukraine. He hosts online zazen from his apartment, and sometimes, out of necessity, hosts from a bomb shelter, on his smartphone.

Much the same is occurring in churches and other religious assemblies. I'm also a member of a Friends Meeting and a link is provided to remote attendance at a number of their events. Our Yearly Meeting took place in Olympia, WA this year and I appreciated being able to be a fly on the wall during plenary sessions.

I, and there are others in like case, have compromised immunity and must steeply reduce in-person contact beyond my household (who make efforts on my behalf, such as masking at the grocery store).

It sounds lonely, but in good weather (we're currently socked in by wildfire smoke) my friends come to see me (I'm no longer allowed to drive) and we walk out back to sit, socially distanced, in the breezeway. I pour them tea, they tell me their triumphs and tribulations, the birds sing, the bumblebees check out the sunflowers.

I'm wondering about prisons. I know some prisoners in some places, certainly some in house arrest, have Internet. I have been following a former RN who got into trouble, who vlogged his circumstances while shut in (he's out now and walking the Pacific Crest Trail). And some prisoners have meditation groups. My teacher has worked with such a group in a women's prison, and a member of my Friends Meeting also works with prisoners. But none of these, I think, are allowed online. I'm interested in finding out more -- search engines haven't been much help as of yet.

In the Shushogi there is a passage on how to behave toward other humans (and presumably all beings). It begins: "There are four kinds of wisdom that benefit living beings: giving, kind speech, beneficial deeds, and cooperation." None of this requires ableism or even freedom of movement.

"Do not disdain even a small offering; its giving will surely bear fruit."

"Kind speech means, when meeting living beings, to think kindly of them and offer them affectionate words."

"Beneficial deeds are one, universally benefiting self and others."

"Cooperation" means not to differentiate; to make no distinction between self and others."

Even in a Zoom room, or with a blog, or on social media (with the caveat that the techno-purveyors of most of these means do not have your best interests at heart), it is possible to do all these, and with considerable geographical reach. Throughout history, writers of letters or epistles have offered expressions of ministry or healing at a distance. Today, friends and associates console or advise one another via texting, messaging, blogging, vlogging and microblogging. Sitting in zazen together online is much the same.

-- shonin

 

  

The nothing zazen is good for

Chitting potatoes

Rev. Dainei, my Dharma brother, chose the following quote as the footer for a recent email:

It is necessary for us to keep the constant way. Zen is not some kind of excitement, but concentration on our usual everyday routine. If you become too busy and too excited, your mind becomes rough and ragged. This is not good. If possible, try to be always calm and joyful and keep yourself from excitement. Usually we become busier and busier, day by day, year by year, especially in our modern world. If we revisit old, familiar places after a long time, we are astonished by the changes. It cannot be helped. But if we become interested in some excitement, or in our own change, we will become completely involved in our busy life, and we will be lost. But if your mind is calm and constant, you can keep yourself away from the noisy world even though you are in the midst of it. In the midst of noise and change, your mind will be quiet and stable. -- Shunryu Suzuki, Zen Mind, Beginner’s Mind (emphasis added)

 The more time I spend with Zen, the less I know about it. Maybe you have had this experience as well. I'm going through a phase of making it to a fair number of sits, thanks to teleconferencing. Sometimes we chant, have dedications and bows, and so on. I'm grateful for these opportunities, as they do seem to help with centering.

I come most alive in the in between times, cutting chard and lifting a few potatoes, then sitting at the hut's "kitchen" table with cleaver and chopping block. I cut up potatoes, garlic scapes and chard stems, with some dried chili pepper, and steam them for fifteen minutes or so, meanwhile chopping greens (chard leaves, dandelions, a cabbage leaf maybe, some clover buds and self-heal) to put into the steamer in the last minute. I drain these and stir in some olive oil, soy sauce, chili powder and sesame seeds, briefly offer the bowl at the altar, and dig in. Have with water or "yard tea" -- currently dock, ash leaves, fennel, herb Robert, self-heal and camellia leaves -- and, after a while, go check some chitting potatoes and water the garden beds and young trees from the rain barrels.

This routine requires very little if any thought, and also very little if any thought suppression. There's no aim here to "become enlightened."

Strangely enough, what has sold me on the effortlessness of "concentration on our daily routine" is that I'm in the early stages of cognitive decline. Memories and words are getting harder to access. Since I don't have many responsibilities nowadays, there's little cause to be stressed about it. Loss becomes not so much "oh, I lost that" and something more like "this is what there is right now" -- which is of course the entire universe.

My youngest, who lives with us (he's 42) also goes out and "just gardens." He remembers to stop by the strawberry bed on his way back to the house. He finds me resting in my chair and holds up a ripe strawberry. I open my mouth and he pops it in, like a starling feeding its chick. This is the nothing zazen is good for.

--shonin

 

The long haul

Grass, trees, fences, and walls bring forth the teachings for all beings, usual people as well as sages. And they in accord extend this Dharma for the sake of grass, trees, fences, and walls. Thus, the realm of self-awakening and awakening others is fundamentally endowed with realization lacking nothing, and realization itself is actualized ceaselessly. (Dogen, Bendowa, tr. Hoshin and Daien)

Historically, Buddhists have been all about "nature" and some masters, more than others, have included rocks and "fences and walls" within, or hinted that they should be included within, the circle of "sentient beings."

Suppose we, as individuals, were proved to be a kind of baggage, hauled around by the consensus chorus of our mitochondria as convenient packages of nutrients, "intended" as means of preserving the long chain of replication and nothing more?

Lovelock and Margulis proposed, after studying the evidence that Earth's biosphere and geosphere seem to form a self-regulating system that "just happens" to keep the Earth within the temperature and humidity ranges that protect the integrity of DNA-carrying organisms, a hypothesis that the system is itself purposive, a survival project, so to speak.

Were we to decide that's how it is, wouldn't Dogen's quote above remain much the same? All support all, but some may realize it less than others, simply because the illusion of self-importance promulgated by our DNA code is quite powerful. Even those who "get it" relapse continually, and zazen is often described as a process of noticing this and returning, again and again, to realization. 

So, patience is prajna practice for good reason. I say to myself, "hey, self! Be patient with yourself and others." A few minutes later, I may say it again. This is practice. Life is short, yet we are all in this for the long haul.

 -- shonin 

 

 

It's a thing

Dogen makes much of shikan-taza as being the whole of practice. "Although it is said that there are as many minds as there are persons, still they all negotiate the way solely in zazen." 

He's not wrong. Stillness is where you find true-ness. At the same time, his monks had to get up and go clean the zendo sometime, and there was also construction, maintenance, cooking, water carrying and farming going on. His explanation was that at the root of all this activity there is still that same stillness. Whether or not you fan yourself, air is air.

When we lived for eight years in the outskirts of one small city and I worked in the larger city across the river, I often biked to work along established bicycle routes and across the wide river on a bike bridge, a scenic round trip of some sixteen miles. In heavier weather, I took the bus.

Bodhidharma splits up practice in much the same way. If wall-gazing does it for you, he says, gaze away! It is, when you do it, the entirety of practice. On the other hand, everything else is waiting for you as practice: the whole of life's activity. One of my hardest-working spiritual teachers, a Hutterite, Barbara Maendel, put it drolly when handing out our farm chores from a seemingly endless list: "a change is as good as a rest."

Zazen is the bicycle. Just get on it and go. In heavier weather, a change is good too. Just get on the bus and go.

Life practice is the bus. If you're sitting in the doctor's waiting room, sure, you can work on your stillness, but also there's the check-in and the visit, which may provide vexations. The arriving and the departing may stress as well -- that near-miss in the parking lot, say. Everything seems to push and pull. To deal with these as Dharma practice, form Dharma life habits.

Bodhidharma breaks life practice into four parts: absence of resentment, acceptance of circumstances, absence of craving, and accord with Dharma. 

To form the habit of not resenting can be a big change in lifestyle for many of us. It means accepting circumstances just as they are, with no craving for them to be any different. That doesn't mean don't swim when you fall into the water, it just means don't spend your swimming energy on uselessly grieving the fall or being angry that you were bumped. Swim. 

Accord with Dharma means embodying Buddha's truth by living the six wisdoms (paramitas). Six tools are available to bring us to the place of non-resentment: giving, ethical discipline, patience, effort, meditation, wisdom.

"Giving" is practice in being kind, a way of cultivating a cooperative, productive and peaceful community.

"Ethical discipline" is self-regulation: holding anger, greed and delusion in check, we foster a cooperative, productive and peaceful community.

"Patience" is practice in accepting circumstances as they are; it's rooted in letting go of the past and especially the future, allowing the community's cooperation, productivity and peace to unfold unforced.

"Effort" here is not the willful struggle that might be envisioned by the ascetic, but the steady self-application to practice that leaves behind the constructed self composed of greed, anger and delusion. This too benefits the community.

"Meditation" in the midst of life practice is that stillness in the doctor's waiting room, increasingly expanding into the visit and the coming and going. You may call it equanimity. It is beneficial to the community.

"Wisdom" here is "prajna," an ongoing appreciation of the ontological truth of the Dharma: "thusness." An insight into thusness is provided by the idea of dependent origination: all things are what they are together, in the same nowness, and nothing exists separately. As our illusion of separateness fades, our actions spring from this realization, and we benefit the community.

shonin painted six rocks, each with a paramita, as mnemonic devices. What, she's 76.

To see Dogen's practical application of the principle of life practice, samu practice, read his "Instructions to the cook," Tenzo Kyokun.

If you only have wild grasses with which to make a broth, do not disdain them. If you have ingredients for a creamy soup do not be delighted. Where there is no attachment, there can be no aversion. Do not be careless with poor ingredients and do not depend on fine ingredients to do your work for you but work with everything with the same sincerity. If you do not do so then it is like changing your behaviour according to the status of the person you meet; this is not how a student of the Way is. (tr. Anzan Hoshin and Yasuda Joshu Dainen)

Hongzhi sums up. "You must purify, cure, grind down, or brush away all the ten­dencies you have fabricated into apparent habits. Then you can reside in the clear circle of brightness."

The bicycle in good weather carried me to the entrance of the building where I worked. I arrived exercised and healthy, ready to benefit the community.

The bus, in heavy weather, stopped right in front of the same building. I arrived rested, composed, ready to benefit the community.

Not saying I always rose to the occasion. But that clear circle of brightness -- it's a thing. We should all look into it.

 -- shonin 

The "thusness" zone

(Continued from Just Fail)

In response to the four sights, Buddha formulates four truths, the first three being about the first three sights, and the fourth being a critical response to the fourth sight. Rather than be a self-punishing sadhu, just join the sangha -- the community of those embodying the dharma, that is responding to reality realistically. He details the ways of doing this: see rightly, resolve thoroughly, speak sense, behave, work honorably, see it all through to an honorable conclusion, bear in mind those things that matter, and sit, stand, walk, and lie down with a centered stillness.

These are mutually supporting and overlapping activities, the positives that are later joined by prohibitions that arose as needed because human nature, embedded within the ongoing system of greed, anger and ignorance, finds these positives difficult to apply to all of one's life.

Chinese monks and nuns found that it helped to go and spend some time alone, and so adapted some of Taoism's hermetic culture -- "leaving behind the rest dust (of the cities)" -- for years or even decades in many cases. But the eight practices were intended to be carried out in the midst of society, as the point of behaving well is to behave well toward others.

Bodhidharma is said to have similar instructions in a document know as the "Two Entrances and Four Practices."

In it, he notes that an intellectual appreciation of Dharma, combined with zazen, can serve as a way into the life of thusness, but he seems to prefer the other Entrance: four recommended practices of what could be called applied Dharma. These are: acceptance of suffering, such as from injustices, acceptance of circumstances as we find them, ignoring cravings, and according with Dharma, that is to say, practicing the six perfections. Those are: giving, ethics, patience, effort, meditation, wisdom.

I sometimes think all these instruction, especially if one throws in the Vinaya or at least the precepts, amount to busywork to stave off the three poisons.

Buddha's early instructions, and Bodhidharma's instructions, if followed, certainly seem to be capable of bringing one's life away from the worst effects of these poisons and into the "thusness" zone.

If we need to put it in less verbose form, though, I think that can be done.

 -- shonin 

(To be continued)

Time Flies Free: Guest Post

On December 8, 2021, Shonin's beloved daughter left this world behind. Her age at the time was 35. Rev. Jundo Cohen of Treeleaf Zendo was moved in this occasion to offer this essay in her memory. Reposted by permission. It is about the interpenetration of mortality and eternity, and references Dogen's fascicle on Being/Time.

What time is it?

Looking in the mirror, my grandfather's face stares back at me. My hair is whiter with each day, my cheeks are rough and sunken. I cannot run as fast as I did just awhile ago. The children, come to us late in life, are now grown, or nearly so. Calculating in my head (no longer as sharp), my remaining years are few at best. "Time waits for no one, flies like an arrow, sands through the hour-glass, passes with a candle flicker," and all that. Even the Buddha grew old, grew feeble, became cold ashes. He found no way to halt his own body's aging.

The Buddha could not halt aging. However, fortunately, the Buddha found the trick to halt time.

Not only halt it, but also (as later Zen masters like Master Dogen further elucidated) slow it, reverse it, make it speed up and twirl around, cause it to flow backwards, ultimately to vanish. The Buddha and Masters found something beyond aging and illness too, even death itself.

Hard to believe? And how did Buddha and Dogen grow old and die, yet were free of time, of dying too ... all at the same time?

What I claim might sound like some mystical power, a violation of the laws of physics, of common sense, impossible to achieve.

I assure you that it is all quite real.

Oh, I am not speaking of sorcery, nor a magic incantation to make the world spin backwards, wishes to a genie, secret military tech to travel faster than light. I do not mean a time machine from an H.G. Wells tale, nor have I gone mad.

Rather, it is just a matter of fresh attitudes, of changed perspectives, of new ways to count the minutes and seconds, to divide life (or, better, to stop dividing life), creative ways to see. These abilities derive from changes of heart, mind-altering insights, very literally from quieting the temporal regions of the brain so that we experience time differently, leading to our mentally substituting new inner models of time's flowing (and lack thereof) for the old. Zen practice, the stillness and silence of Zazen, opens these doors.

I think that most people have had moments when they have experienced such states to greater or lesser degree: How time grows slow when we are children waiting for the recess bell, then fast as the end of summer vacation draws near. Looking at a sunrise, or a new baby's smile, we might sense something truly infinite, timeless. Remembering our roots, our ancestors, we may feel intimately connected to the past, as if the past is still present in some way. Holding our children and grandchildren, we know our part in the future.

But I am speaking of something stronger than any of that, longer lasting abilities we can train to summon at will, to taste whenever we wish. It is a skill like any skill, learned talents that are among the fruits of this "goalless, nothing to attain" Zen practice. We can be emancipated from time, also from time's goals and push to attain. No, not from the wrinkles, the nights and days, the grave which calls ... but from concern for time, from seeing it as only slipping away.

It is hard to describe, but I will do my best. Words fail miserably in such things. Nor is this about just a single way of knowing. Rather, I would indicate a collection of ways of knowing time, some quite contradictory when described, any or all of which can be reached for as needed, like tools in a clockmaker's toolbox.

Master Dogen, our Soto Zen non-clockmaker, wrote of such time(s) ... and timeless suchness too ... in his old-time masterpiece, entitled "Being-Time." He spoke there of everybody, every thing, being in its own time, of all our times blending together yet being there own precious individual thing-moment too, of there being something timeless which encompasses it all. Hundreds of years before Einstein made “relative time” a household world, Dogen spoke of each of us, and all things, existing in our own vibrant being-time, connected to the being-time of all other beings and things in this vast, fluid universe. Why is this important? Because it allows us to see the amazing, syncopated, backward-forward, moving-still, timeless-time of this whole life-world where we temporarily find ourselves alive. It also frees us from simply witnessing time as an unstoppable flood in which our youth turns to old age, time passes quickly, life becomes death, and all is nothing but change. The Buddha taught that all composite things are impermanent and ever changing, but he also taught a way beyond all things and change. If I may quote from my own book, "The Zen Master's Dance" (please read it when you have time ), Dogen declared:

For the time being this staff or whisk here held, being-time.
For the time being a pillar or lantern, being-time.
For the time being the children of common families ... being-time.
For the time being the earth and sky, being-time.
In this word “being-time,” time is already just being, and all being is time.

We have our "common sense" measures of time, taking time for granted. However, it need not be only so:

We should come to know in this way that there are myriads
of forms of things, hundreds of blades of grasses
through the earth, and that each blade of grass and each
single appearance is not apart from the entire earth. ... And when
we arrive in the field of the ineffable, there is not but one
blade of grass and one appearance here and now. Whether
there is understanding of this phenomenon or no understanding
of this phenomenon, whether there is understanding
of things or no understanding of things, all is
only this exact moment. Since there is nothing but just
this moment, the time-being is all the time there is. All
moments of being-time are just the whole of time, as all
existent things are time too. The whole universe exists in
individual moments of time, and each moment contains
all existences and all worlds. Reflect now whether any
being or any world or the whole universe is left out of the
present moment of time.

He continues, speaking to us from so long ago:

So, we should not understand only that time flies by.
We should not feel that “flying” is time’s only ability. For if we
just let time fly away, separations from and in it might appear.
Those who fail to experience and grasp the truth of
being-time do so because they only understand time as something that passes.
Ultimately all existences are linked and become time.
Everything that exists throughout the whole universe is
lined up in a series of all individual moments, and at the
same time is each and all time. Because all moments are
being-time [and you are being-time], they are your being-time.
And because time has the nature of flowing, today flows
into tomorrow while today flows into yesterday, all as yesterday
flows into today, today flows into today, and tomorrow
flows into tomorrow.

Finally:

We should not just feel that the passage of time from one
moment to the next is like the movement from east to west
of the wind or a rainstorm. The whole universe is not
unmoving, for all is moving and changing, and the universe
is flowing from one moment to the next. An example
of such a moment-by-moment passing of time is the spring.
The spring has countless aspects arrayed as what we call
“the passage of time.” ... [Yet] because spring
embodies the momentary passing of time, passing time is
being realized and actualized in each present moment of
springtime here and now. The flowing of time occurs by
spring, thus the flowing is completed and brought to fruition
in just this moment of spring.

Dogen's poetic images may be hard to fathom. Let me summarize and bring them down to earth, hopefully not to waste your time:

One can feel, for example, that each moment is whole and complete, as if it holds all time, as if it is timeless with no before or after. It is a wonderful experience, good to know when we worry that this moment will slip away. Nothing slips away, even as time keeps passing, for this moment with no before or after, becomes this next moment with no before or after, then the next and next, each with no before or after ... and not a drop lacking from any one. There is no other moment, nor better moment, than this.

That is so even as, in our ordinary experiencing, time passes, and sometimes brings along so many moments we do wish were otherwise. Though we wish sometimes that they were otherwise, moments of sickness are just moments of sickness, times of loss just times of loss, days of sadness are simply days of sadness ... and all of life is fully life. Our heart flows with acceptance even as, in another chamber of our heart, beating as one, we wish it were not so, and that the times of suffering would never come or quickly pass. Each instant is, in its own way, a shining jewel on the bracelet of life. And, no less, so are the times of health, winning and happiness that we naturally welcome more. Our Zen practice teaches us to welcome all of it, letting each day be that day, welcoming even the hard and terribly ugly parts we do not welcome at all.

And though we might regret the past, feeling still the scars of long ago pain, or we may long for the past and something or somebody now lost, we learn to bow to the past, letting the past just be the past. We honor the past, then let it go, living on from now and here.

Likewise, though we may fear for the future, plan for the future, hold some dream for the future, we learn to grip things lightly and let the future be too. Oh, we take our medicine, work our plan, pursue practical steps to stay healthy and safe. Even so, deep down, we let what will happen happen too. If our health does not return, our project collapses, the whole world comes to an end ... the wisdom within us will flow with it all somehow.

We also sense that the whole world is connected, all things are connected, all times are really one, and all times are each other too. Much as the bird above is merely the fish flying in the sky, while the fish is but the bird in other guise swimming in the sea, tomorrow is yesterday become tomorrow, and right now is tomorrow right here. In fact, it is all now now now ... for yesterday is now as it was then, and Friday is yesterday-now as it will be on Friday. But all is also yesterday yesterday yesterday ... for now is just yesterday posing as now, and Friday is Friday on Friday too. And all is tomorrow tomorrow tomorrow no less, for they are all the same. Realizing so is powerful medicine for our usual sense that all things are separate, conflicting, broken in the world. Nothing is broken when known as the flowing whole. In the flowing, there is this which is wholly stillness yet flowing.

For time flows from today to tomorrow, but also (felt Dogen and those who share his visions) tomorrow flows into today and today into yesterday. In fact, each moment fully holds within all the future and all the past, plus embodies every other moment ... and is just flowing flowing flowing. There is also a face beyond measures of time, beyond all coming and going (thus free even of birth and death), and such is also fully present in each and every twist and change. Thus, to the wise, even moments of passing and death are also free of passing and death. Dogen said that when death comes, let it come, dive right in. He's now gone, but has he truly gone at all?

The famous Zen challenge, inscribed on the wooden Han clock in the temple, alerts us:

Life and Death are the Great Matter;
Time swiftly passes by like an arrow;
Thus, we should strive to awaken;
Do not squander this life.

It is timely advice.

How many of us waste this life, chasing unhealthy desires, caught by anger and revenge, pursuing false treasures and temporary pleasures, all to realize too quickly that the years have gone. Instead, learn to appreciate this moment and the next, all that life brings. Live gently, be kind. Learn to appreciate what is in your life, without running heedless in search of another. Oh, sometimes we must run from fire, from tigers, from wars ... but even in running, see if you can sense the stillness within.

For you see: What we awaken to, the resolution of this Great Matter, is the rediscovery that time is both flowing and still all at once, free of passing even as the clock ticks and the calendar pages are turned. The arrow is always flying and hitting the target at once. There is nothing in need of striving for, no swift or slow. Not a moment, not one drop, is ever squandered ... nor are we confined even within borders of life and death. That being so, live well, live wisely ... keep moving.

It is hard to express.

Better, please sit Zazen, and taste all these time(s) and timeless in each sitting moment.

Gassho, J

dedicated to S

In Place 13

The old woman finds a bench difficult,

more so every day; one last sit

before she gives it up —tap bell, groan, rise —

lotus, half lotus? Ha!





When she first began sitting at the hut, use of the seiza or kneeling bench was easy for the old woman; but it became increasingly painful for her; here we see it being used for the last time and it has since been replaced by a chair. All things come to an end, as will the use of the hut, as will this old woman’s life. The book on the floor is an edition of some of Ryokan’s poetry.

Falling blossoms.
Blossoms in bloom are also
falling blossoms. 

— Ryokan  (tr. Tanahashi)
 

In Place 12

A friend donates chairs; with these,

two to four may sit thinking no thoughts

or thinking of thinking no thoughts

while gazing at knotty cedar

Four folding chairs came with someone’s spare card table.  It’s encouraging how many useful things one can tuck into an eight by ten shed and not feel that it is cluttered.

The first thing is to learn how to quiet the mind, relax the mind, and bring the awareness to the front so that we are conscious of what we're doing when we're doing it without all the commentary. 

-- Tenzin Palmo

Right seeing

 

We begin by seeing our mistake. Separateness in the here and now is illusory, and our mental pictures of the past or future, laced with a desire to have things our own way, are also illusory. The universe with all that is in it is one thing. This is why it is right to resist the spreading of poisons in agriculture, the land, the skies, the sea, and in our cities, and to resist the spreading of fear (oppression) and of war (oppression also). 

The cause of the spreading of poisons, fear and war is the lack of accountability due to greed, and the correction of this sickness is accountability -- accepting responsibility for both the visible and invisible costs of our actions, and adjusting those actions accordingly, so that we may act with clarity and justice. Capitalism is (or certainly has become) systematized avoidance of justice. We can do better than this. 

Clearly seeing into one's nature is called practice, and the seat that puts an end to analytical thoughts is called zazen. 

-- Bassui

(To be continued)