The Beginning Tree
From The Beginning
From the beginning
the crooked tree
was no good for a lordly dwelling
how could anyone
expect the nobles
to use it for their gates
Now it's been thrown out
onto the shore
of this harbor village
handy for fishermen
to sit on
while they're fishing
- Muso Soseki (1275-1351)
For talks that I give I tend to draw on sources in a collection titled "The Roaring Stream - A New Zen Reader" edited by Nelson Foster and Jack Shoemaker, and of late I have been working with the teachings of Muso Soseki as the basis of things.
I find in him a kind of kindred spirit from another time and place which is at once alien and then again oddly familiar. At least the fantasy I tell myself about his world is that it is familiar...
In particular he had to deal with alot of political and social upheaval, and in a real way he navigated it well. It's refreshing and nice for me to see that this can be done, particularly in the midst of so much evidence that it rarely is.
As for this poem of his, for me it brought out so many things that I found helpful:
Acknowledging my crooked tree self, and how it really isn't any good for a lordly dwelling.
Acknowledging that this crooked tree will also be cut down anyhow, one way or another.
The Taoists have an image that would have been familiar to Muso and his audience of the crooked tree in the woods being left alone by the woodcutters as useless, and so being spared from the woodcutters saw.
But not here, for we find that crooked and straight alike are cut down.
So the cutting down happens, and we'd rather not have it be so - thank you very much.
Dogen said "Flowers fall, with our aversion."
And even so, the crooked tree trusts the currents of the ocean that take it to the shore of this humble harbor village where it is now enjoying its wild tree life, even as it decomposes day by day at the service of the fishermen.
So even as the cutting down hurts, and the decay is still very much the decay, there is in this bodhi tree no intention to escape and no turning away. And it shows me that all along the way it is possible to live and die out of a deep trust in the great matter, or at least out of a deep enough trust, and that the will to be of some use along the way is the main case.
If in the end the only guarantee we really have is that of this decaying old log, then for me this means that we are really free to fully throw ourselves into deeply taking care of the heart of things.
Right here, right now.
And from the beginning-less beginning ever has it been so.
And if it turns out that there is something after this decaying old log has served its last bit of use as a campfire on the beach, then for me it changes nothing because whatever that is will depend on whatever this was and so its still about throwing ourselves into deeply taking care of the heart of things.
Right here, right now.
And from the beginning-less beginning ever has it been so.
Kinda reminds me of another teaching about a tree:
From the beginningthe crooked tree
was no good for a lordly dwelling
how could anyone
expect the nobles
to use it for their gates
Now it's been thrown out
onto the shore
of this harbor village
handy for fishermen
to sit on
while they're fishing
- Muso Soseki (1275-1351)
For talks that I give I tend to draw on sources in a collection titled "The Roaring Stream - A New Zen Reader" edited by Nelson Foster and Jack Shoemaker, and of late I have been working with the teachings of Muso Soseki as the basis of things.
I find in him a kind of kindred spirit from another time and place which is at once alien and then again oddly familiar. At least the fantasy I tell myself about his world is that it is familiar...
In particular he had to deal with alot of political and social upheaval, and in a real way he navigated it well. It's refreshing and nice for me to see that this can be done, particularly in the midst of so much evidence that it rarely is.
As for this poem of his, for me it brought out so many things that I found helpful:
Acknowledging my crooked tree self, and how it really isn't any good for a lordly dwelling.
Acknowledging that this crooked tree will also be cut down anyhow, one way or another.
The Taoists have an image that would have been familiar to Muso and his audience of the crooked tree in the woods being left alone by the woodcutters as useless, and so being spared from the woodcutters saw.
But not here, for we find that crooked and straight alike are cut down.
So the cutting down happens, and we'd rather not have it be so - thank you very much.
Dogen said "Flowers fall, with our aversion."
And even so, the crooked tree trusts the currents of the ocean that take it to the shore of this humble harbor village where it is now enjoying its wild tree life, even as it decomposes day by day at the service of the fishermen.
So even as the cutting down hurts, and the decay is still very much the decay, there is in this bodhi tree no intention to escape and no turning away. And it shows me that all along the way it is possible to live and die out of a deep trust in the great matter, or at least out of a deep enough trust, and that the will to be of some use along the way is the main case.
If in the end the only guarantee we really have is that of this decaying old log, then for me this means that we are really free to fully throw ourselves into deeply taking care of the heart of things.
Right here, right now.
And from the beginning-less beginning ever has it been so.
And if it turns out that there is something after this decaying old log has served its last bit of use as a campfire on the beach, then for me it changes nothing because whatever that is will depend on whatever this was and so its still about throwing ourselves into deeply taking care of the heart of things.
Right here, right now.
And from the beginning-less beginning ever has it been so.
Kinda reminds me of another teaching about a tree:
If you see Buddha kill it. Though I have to say I often enjoy the dilution of stopping along the path to enjoy how wonderful the moss looks on the ancient oaks... as to me they are wonderful crooked trees.
ReplyDelete~Tenchi
This reminds me of another story you've told of an abbot who is thrown out of a monastery due to a change in politics. He delightfully goes off to teach the country folk.
ReplyDeleteIn dealing with decisions, what we (perceive we) can actually control... Are these different than what we can't control? The mind wants to tell me the ramifications of these decisions will be huge. But aren't they all? And in the end, won't they too be cut down anyhow?
Is the perception of a decision only a delusion?