A Touch of Now - An Introduction

“I sit here desperately wanting to create something; to say something on these pages that will convey my thoughts, the beauty of this spot; to share my experience of this moment in time. My chest aches and tightens, as if to squeeze out the salty tears of longing. I look up from my shaded table cracked and weathered like the hull of an ancient ship, my back warmed in the afternoon sun, and thought is inadequate to the task.
Emerald green waves, speckled white with tips of foam, roll toward me from a forest curling like a finger out into the sea. Puffy white clouds emerge from beyond this jagged green horizon and float in lazy patterns against a pale blue sky. Leaves flutter in the warm breeze and dancing shadows dabble all around my wordless perch as seagulls, screeching nature’s plan, dive for unseen morsels and a jittery squirrel buries his face in the still moist grass.
The scene is there for everyone present. My experience lost within me and an inability to truly share the wonder may be my greatest pain.”


When exactly I wrote this is uncertain. Why, is an even greater mystery? What I am certain of however, is the truth embraced by the experience. It describes a moment in which I felt the touch of “now,” and in that touch the truth was unmistakable, simple, clear, and thoroughly unspeakable. I was present to that moment and the moment shared with me all there is to know. This Blog is about my journey, then and now, into the moment and the truth I find there.


November 28, 2010

Non-Doing

      I must say that I spend a fair amount of time being confused by my readings in Philosophy and Zen literature. However, this exercise is preferable today to training for 10K races and various other sporting events. Some may call it 'old age' but I prefer something akin to wisdom - though I admit to feeling a twinge of ill-conceived hubris at the use of the term.  However, after hours of perplexity and furrowed brow, reward often comes with a sudden flash (and a rush of adrenaline equal to the runner's high). In a moment of direct experience, clarity descends upon a previously clouded understanding. And it's always exciting when something that seems so abstruse at first, becomes obvious once it is.....is what? Digested, understood, integrated... once again the inadequacy of words becomes clear.
      One of the most perplexing statements in Zen is the one below by Lao Tzu and comes from Taoist literature:

"Less and less is done
Until non-action is achieved
When nothing is done, nothing is left undone."

How, we ask ourselves; how can anything be left undone when nothing is done? It confounds rational thought.....and that is actually the point. But let's save that for another post. The point here is that I read this over and over throughout the years and while I grasped it intellectually....sort of....it wasn't until today that I realized that I had experienced it earlier in the day.
      Various writers had used any number of examples to help me "understand" what was being said, but it wasn't until my own experience embraced its truth that it was understood at a completely different level. One that I cannot seem to adequately express in words. Michael Jordan thrilling fans with aerial acrobatics on the baskeball court, gifted pianists performing feats of digital prowess that I can barely imagine even as I watch, or the archer who is said to have hit the target without having aimed because it, the arrow, shoots itself: these are everyday examples of what is being pointed to in the teachings on Non-Doing. 
      I was never able to pass the typing course in high school because of a combination of not caring enough to practice, and a tensing under pressure which also devastated my attempts at making a foul shot under pressure. My mind could never "let go" enough to allow a natural unfolding of the fruits of rigorous practice. The ego can be a daunting adversary. Suffice it to say that over the years I have learned to type well enough to handle anything I've needed to create with a computer keyboard. Typing while simultaneously reading the words from a book however became a laborious and time consuming task. Since this has become a necessary activity today, due to sheer repetition minus the dreaded competition with clock or man, things have changed.
     As I've looked for inspiring or heuristic quotes for our sangha's Thought for the Week emails, I've inadvertently improved my typing skills. Just this afternoon I read the following statement by Ray Grigg from his book The Tao of Zen:
"When non-doing appears as inaction it is peaceful, silent, and still; when it appears as action it is thoughtless, reflexive, and intuitive....This apersonal momentum is what moves the fingers of the pianist; it seems as if no one is deliberately playing the piano, as if the player has become the instrument and the music is making itself."
      At the very moment I read that passage I realized that I had been aware of that exact experience while typing. Though sporadic, there are moments when I am looking at the page of the book and, without thinking about or imagining the keys of the computer, my fingers find the letters that I am seeing on the page. When I realize that it is happening however, the thought causes a disconnect and the smooth non-typing aspect of the moment is lost in a flurry of mental interference. It reminds me of the intermittent reception we used to get with a television using the old "rabbit-ears" antenna. You would have neither picture nor no-picture. It was a jumble of static and a cacophony of distorted visual images. Suffice it to say that in those moments there are many words "undone" compared to when I am able to simply allow my fingers to work through my eyes.
      I am amazed that whenever I can settle into this "zone." It's as though something or someone else is doing the typing. My self-reflective consciousness must dissolve however, so that when I relax into non-doing, "nothing is left undone." Meaning nothing needs to be fixed later. The following quotations take on a new clarity.

"Real calmness should be found in activity itself." - Suzuki Roshi
and
"When an archer is shooting for nothing
He has all his skill.
If he shoots for a brass buckle
He is already nervous.
If he shoots for a prize of gold
He goes blind
Or sees two targets -- He is out of his mind!

His skill has not changed. But the prize
Divides him. He cares.
He thinks more of winning
Than of shooting --
And the need to win
Drains his power." - Chuang Tzu

      For anyone interested in reading further on the connection between Zen and Taoism, I recommend Ray Grigg's book The Tao of Zen. The following excerpt is found on page 294 and adds a cogent end to this post.

"Th[e] Taoist sense of virtue shares with Zen a standing aside from self so that things are left to do themselves. Detachment from doing permits doing to arise thoughtlessly and spontaneously, without the labored self-involvement that imparts ulterior motives. Such doing, consequently, becomes something more than ordinary doing because it is allowed to happen within the flow of a larger, selfless wisdom. The highest form of doing in Taoism and Zen occurs without any interference from a deliberate or contriving self. The doing is happening but no one is doing it."