Weekend Stories
I enjoy going exploring on weekends (mostly). Here is a collection of stories and photos I gather along the way. All posts are CC BY-NC-SA licensed unless otherwise stated. Feel free to share, remix, and adapt the content as long as you give appropriate credit and distribute your contributions under the same license.
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Time and timelessness in Zen
Time, for most of us, is something linear. It ticks forward in steady increments, separating past, present, and future. We plan, remember, and worry according to this unfolding sequence. But Zen offers a radically different view. Rather than seeing time as something external that we move through, Zen invites us to experience time as something that arises with our very being. Time is not ‘out there’ — it is ‘this’, here and now. In this post, we explore how Zen, particularly through the teachings of Eihei Dōgen and the practice of zazen, reconfigures our understanding of time. We’ll look at the distinction between conventional clock-time and the timeless immediacy of the present, the meaning of Dōgen’s concept of uji (‘being-time’), and the implications of Zen’s temporal view for practice and life.
The student-teacher relationship in Zen
The relationship between student and teacher in Zen Buddhism is not merely instructional; it is transformative. Unlike conventional forms of religious education or academic mentorship, the Zen student-teacher bond centers on the direct transmission of insight, often beyond words or formal doctrine. The teacher does not function as a distant authority imparting knowledge, but as a mirror, guide, and provocation. Their role is to accompany the student to the edge of self, to challenge pretense, and to foster awakening through encounter. This unique relationship forms the backbone of Zen training and is enshrined in the tradition’s ideal of ‘mind-to-mind transmission’ (Japanese: ishin denshin, Chinese: yixin chuanxin 意心传心), believed to trace back to the Buddha’s silent transmission to Mahākāśyapa. From this mythic origin onward, Zen has emphasized that true understanding is not found in scripture alone, but in the shared silence, tension, and realization between teacher and student.
The role of kōans in Zen
Kōan practice is one of the most distinctive features of Zen Buddhism, particularly within the Rinzai tradition. Often misunderstood or romanticized as mysterious riddles or paradoxes, kōans are in fact a rigorous and deeply structured form of meditative inquiry. Their purpose is not to test logic, nor to offer cryptic knowledge, but to catalyze a break from conceptual thinking and provoke a direct encounter with reality. In this sense, they are not puzzles to be solved but catalysts for awakening.
Zen: Presence as practice
Zen does not begin with doctrines, rituals, or lofty goals. It begins right here, in this breath, this step, this cup of tea. At the heart of Zen is an unwavering emphasis on the now — the direct, unmediated encounter with life as it unfolds. It is not about preparing for a better future, accumulating merit, or escaping the world. It is about fully inhabiting this moment, because this moment is all there is. This teaching, while seemingly simple, carries profound implications. It is not a call to hedonism or passivity, but to wakefulness — to see clearly, feel deeply, and act precisely. Zen says: do not postpone your life. Enlightenment is not a distant peak to be reached someday; it is the immediacy of being present, without grasping, without fleeing.
Kenshō and Satori: Awakening in Zen
In Zen Buddhism, the terms kenshō (Japanese: 見性, ‘seeing one’s nature’) and satori (悟り, ‘understanding’ or ‘awakening’) are central concepts that describe the experience of sudden insight into the true nature of reality. Unlike the gradual, step-by-step cultivation of wisdom often emphasized in other Buddhist traditions, Zen speaks of a direct, immediate realization that cuts through conceptual thinking and reveals things as they truly are. In this post, we explore what kenshō and satori mean in the Zen context, how they are understood and approached, and how they relate to other core teachings such as tathatā (suchness), śūnyatā (emptiness), and dependent origination. We will also examine misunderstandings around these terms, their role in the Zen path, and how awakening is both a beginning and a continuation of practice.
The central element of Zen: Zazen
Zazen, literally ‘seated meditation’, is not merely one technique among others in Zen; it is the very heart of its path. More than a means to an end, it embodies the entirety of the Zen approach: direct, immediate, and grounded in the here and now. Zen does not prioritize reading scriptures, performing rituals, or climbing hierarchical stages of attainment. Instead, it points us to reality as it is, and asks us to sit down and meet it. Why sitting? Because zazen strips away distractions. In stillness and silence, the usual dramas of goal-setting, striving, and self-definition begin to fall away. We return to the body, the breath, the ground beneath us. In this simplicity, we come face to face with suchness (tathatā), the unfiltered presence of things, free from projection and resistance. Zazen is not about producing insight; it is insight embodied. Not about chasing enlightenment, but realizing it was never absent. Thus, sitting becomes the most radical act: to do nothing, to go nowhere, to be fully present. And in this presence, Zen teaches, everything is revealed.
Suchness as reality: Zen, tathatā, and the interplay of emptiness
In the Mahāyāna and Zen traditions of Buddhism, the term tathatā (Sanskrit; zhēnrú 真如 in Chinese; shinnyo 真如 in Japanese) stands for one of the most pivotal yet elusive ideas: suchness, or the reality of things just as they are. As explored in our earlier post on Tathatā: Buddhism’s view on reality as it is, this concept captures the direct, unfiltered encounter with phenomena — prior to conceptualization, judgment, or dualistic thinking. It names not a transcendent essence but the experiential texture of reality when seen without clinging, projection, or resistance. In Zen, this notion finds radical expression through non-dual immediacy, poetic evocation, and embodied practice. But suchness is never isolated. Within Buddhist thought, it arises through a web of interrelated concepts: śūnyatā (emptiness), pratītyasamutpāda (dependent origination), the two truths, and in the East Asian context, interpenetration. This post builds on our earlier reflections and extends them into a broader network of insight. We explore how suchness can be understood as the experiential side of emptiness, the realized face of dependent origination, and the dynamic field in which all things reflect and contain each other. Zen, in this view, becomes not a mystical path but a direct, intimate embrace of the real — not as an idea, but as encounter.
Zen’s way of knowing: From conceptual thought to direct realization
Zen (Chán) Buddhism places a radical emphasis on direct, non-conceptual realization of reality. Unlike the analytic, scholastic traditions found in some schools of Indian and Tibetan Buddhism, Zen centers on awakening that occurs beyond words and letters (教外别传, jiàowài biéchuán), through intuitive insight into one’s true nature. This epistemological orientation links Zen to Nāgārjuna’s Madhyamaka philosophy and its deconstructive critique of conceptual elaboration (prapañca). But Zen moves beyond critique into praxis: it seeks not to defeat concepts for their own sake, but to open the practitioner to a different kind of knowing altogether. In this post, we explore the epistemology of Zen as a unique mode of Buddhist insight. It traces the shift from conceptual cognition (vijñāna) to direct knowing (prajñā), highlights key contrasts with discursive methods, and considers how Zen’s ‘non-knowing’ (不知, bù zhī) functions not as ignorance but as awakened awareness.
The influence of Daoism and Confucianism on Chinese Chán Buddhism
The emergence of Chán Buddhism in China was not an isolated event but the result of centuries of cultural, philosophical, and religious interaction. While rooted in Indian Buddhist traditions, particularly the Mahāyāna emphasis on emptiness (sūnyatā) and direct realization, Chán developed in a Chinese intellectual and spiritual environment shaped by Daoism and Confucianism. Among these, Daoism played a particularly significant role in shaping the tone, language, and orientation of early Chán, while Confucianism contributed more subtly, often influencing social structures and ethical concerns. In this post, we examine how these indigenous traditions influenced the development of Chán, both in its formative centuries and in its later interpretations.
The Five Houses of Chán: The diversification of Chinese Zen
Following the ascendancy of the Southern School and the widespread acceptance of Huineng’s approach to sudden enlightenment, Chinese Chán Buddhism entered a new phase of institutional and pedagogical development. This era, spanning the late Tang (9th century) and early Song (10th century), witnessed the emergence of what later came to be known as the Five Houses or Five Schools of Chán (五家, Wǔjiā). Rather than representing rigid institutions, these Houses were loose networks of master-disciple lineages that emphasized particular styles of teaching, training methods, and approaches to awakening. All five Houses grew from within the doctrinal and practical soil of the Southern School. While they shared Huineng’s emphasis on sudden enlightenment and direct experience, each cultivated its own tone and orientation, often shaped by local conditions, charismatic leaders, and pedagogical innovation. Some would fade over time, while others would leave a lasting mark on the global transmission of Zen, particularly in Japan. In this post, we provide a brief overview of each of the Five Houses — Guiyang, Linji, Caodong, Yunmen, and Fayan — with attention to their core characteristics, historical significance, and corresponding developments in Japanese Zen.