For some reason I've been thinking about an episode that occurred many years ago while I was a Zen Buddhism practitioner in New York.
I used to attend a Zendo where we would all sit in meditation, and every once in a while we'd consult with one of the teachers in a process called dokusan. Either the roshi, the Zendo's spiritual leader, or one of the junior teachers would be sitting in meditation in a closed room. You'd enter the room, bow to the teacher and seat yourself on a cushion facing them, and then have a talk about your practice. The subject of the talk could be anything, really, and although dokusan was formal, it wasn't stiff -- you could laugh or cry or reveal anything you felt pertinent to your practice.
One day, while we were on a weeklong summer retreat, I was asked to be the attendant for one of the teachers during dokusan. That meant I lined up the waiting students on a row of cushions outside the door, and I sat with them, signaling to each one in turn when they could go in -- normally when the teacher rang a little bell.
Now, dokusan is supposed to be confidential, between the student and teacher. But as the attendant, I was sitting right outside the door -- and on this particular day it was very quiet. There wasn't much ambient noise. The bell rang, and I signaled to the first waiting student -- a Zendo member who was senior to me -- to go in.
When he began speaking to the teacher, I realized I could hear them both. I tried not to listen, because that violates the spirit of dokusan, but try as I might I couldn't block out the conversation. And what I heard him say shocked me.
My dharma name -- the name I used in the Zendo, bestowed on me by the roshi -- was Junryu. The student in dokusan told the teacher, "I don't think Junryu has a good heart." He sounded emotional, perhaps even tearful, when he said it.
The teacher questioned him and I don't remember what else was said, if I even heard it. As I said I was trying not to listen and at the same time I was stunned. Why didn't I have a good heart?!
Now here's a piece of essential backstory: Part of my job as attendant was to announce dokusan to the rest of the Zendo, all sitting in meditation. At the very beginning I'd stand and say, "Dokusan with (teacher's name) is now available," and line up those who wanted to attend. On this particular day, when I did that, I apparently mispronounced the teacher's name. It was a mispronunciation so minor that to me it barely qualified -- as I recall, I said "tan" to rhyme with the color tan, when I should have said "tan" to rhyme with swan.
The student now sitting in dokusan had softly corrected me, and I'd rolled my eyes and smiled at him. I'd meant it in a friendly way. What does Bart Simpson always say? "Don't have a cow, man!"
Apparently he did not appreciate my response. Still, I was shocked that he would take it so seriously that he'd tell someone (a teacher, no less!) that I didn't have a good heart.
Now, this left me in a predicament. I wasn't supposed to be hearing what was going on in that room. How could I address this situation?
First, I got an electric fan and set it up outside the dokusan room, using its white noise to drown out any future conversations so they wouldn't be overheard by me or the other waiting students. And that night, I spoke to the student who'd made the comment about my heart -- I didn't come out and say I'd heard him in dokusan, though I'm sure he must have suspected it. But I said I was sorry for the eye-roll, that it was a defensive mechanism because I felt insecure being the dokusan attendant. (Which was probably true.)
The entire episode subsided after that, but I have never forgotten that remark -- that I don't have a good heart. Every time I get annoyed at anything or anyone -- like the mob of rambunctious 10th grade boys I'm constantly trying to corral in my current library job -- I think, "Oh my God, that guy was right! I really don't have a good heart!"
Anyway, please don't assure me I have a good heart. That's not what I'm looking for here. I just wanted to relate the story and the impact it had on me. If anything it's provided an opportunity for self-reflection over the years. For the record, I do think I have a good heart, to the extent that phrase means anything -- but I can accept that there are those who don't appreciate my occasionally flippant sense of humor.
(Photos: More images of our sunflowers, which are definitely the most interesting thing happening in the garden at the moment, and they're on their way out already. In the Zen spirit of transience, we'd better enjoy them while we can!)
26 comments:
It's amazing how much power these small episodes can have for years to come.
It is a shame how misunderstandings can fester for a long long time, I hope he was able to learn something from the teacher that day.
That sunflower has a good heart!
It makes one wonder what the teacher's response was.
I'm certain that would have left you reassured, as you wouldn't have been given the responsibility otherwise.
Sometimes we don't need to be that fly on the wall..but I hoped he learnt something from your response.
Thanks for sharing this story Steve. It's funny how one cruel, thoughtless or unjustified word can remain with us for years and years - taunting us like a demon. Anyone who reads "Shadows and Light" can easily see that you are a good man with "a good heart" whatever that might mean.
It was an interesting and harsh learning experience for you. Extra interesting is that it had such a profound impact on you that your vividly remember it to this day.
My father used to say to me, "Geez you're ugly, geez you're stupid." He meant it as a joke but those words haunted me for many years and shaped who I am.
Ummm...
Who was the one displaying not such a good heart here?
Wasn't you.
I am so sorry you heard that meaningless ridiculousness because that is what it was.
These brief remarks can also work the other way. I quit a heavy smoking habit cold turkey, worked in an office of smokers, and after a few weeks I was struggling and about to restart. My boss said, you quit and never went back! That understanding, that she now saw me as a nonsmoker, was a big reason I still am one. So we can say something that either haunts or helps someone for a long time.
That said, what we say is often more about us than the person we're referring to.
So I am wondering why you stopped being a Zen Buddhism practitioner.
Or do you still follow on your own? I do not know anything about this practice.
My social studies teacher when I was in 8th grade one told me something that I have never forgotten to this day and strive to correct. I wish she were still alive for me to thank her for telling me.
Looking at this through the lens of different personality types I really see how hard it is to be a human interacting in the world. I had a job in the early 90s where I got reprimanded for being too "sharp" in the way I interacted with my coworkers. What made that hard was I thought I was friends with the ones who had complained and my feelings were pretty bruised. (Of course, now looking back, there was a racial element that I was completely unaware of - now I'd be looking at my own self and rolling my eyes at the precious little white girl that I was).
I think that when someone makes an judgement, it always, ALWAYS says more about them than it does about the person they are referring to. We know our own hearts best, and it seems to me that the point of meditation is to judge yourself and make the changes required. His focus was wrong. I am certain that the teacher gently made that point.
My friend joined and belongs to a Buddhist group, hardcore. They all try to out Buddha one another, or moan about others who are not budha-ing enough. Humans o matter what group they identify with seem to do that which is contrary to beliefs. That was a silly comment the student made to the chief dude.see it for what it was… the unpredictable “feels”of human fragility . Buddha would have laughed , probably.
I can't imagine taking the time to wait and meet with the roshi and then start out by criticizing someone. That person needed a lot more time to meditate before speaking.
Words are so powerful and nearly impossible to let go of.
I know I'm just echoing what's been said, but it's so true how little things like this can stick with us forever! I use to have a Buddhist friend, but over time he became so mean spirited and uncaring that I just distanced myself.
You know I like macro shots in nature and your sunflowers photos are stunning!
When I was a teenager one of my older sisters told me I had fat fingers. I was so ashamed of my hands after that. What an embarrassment it was to have fat fingers. Years later when my son offered my engagement ring to two different young ladies, both quite petite, and neither one could get her finger into my ring, I finally started to realize the remark had been made to make me feel bad about myself--as many other comments were from that sibling and the others--and not because it was true. I had, and have, small hands and small fingers.
Love,
Janie
And Olga Girl Clearly Has The Best Heart Of The Tribe As She Is Completely Stress Free - Now Slip A Just Because Treat Under Her Pink Blanket
Stay Groovy Brother Man,
Cheers
Some things stay with us a long time, whether they are true or not. My best friend when I was eight or nine years old told me that a remark I made had hurt her feelings. I recall feeling shock and instant regret. It was the first time I realized how my words sounded. I thought I was just being funny. That has stuck with me for over a half a century and I'm grateful for the lesson. It's harder when a comment or judgement isn't true. Depending on our maturity and self-esteem, it can make us better - or break us.
I know that you have incredible gardening skills. I know that you are great in your treatment of Olga, with walks and baths and sleeping alongside. I know, from your photography, that you have a good eye. Yes, I think you have a good heart.
I love the sunflowers. It's interesting how some things from the past get stuck in our memories and stay active. I forget why I'm in the pantry, but some things that were said in the past refuse to leave my head.
Overhearing that has made you look at your heart from time to time and that can only be a good thing.
Mitchell: It's true. It seems silly that it made such an impression, given that it was a very minor episode.
Rachel: I would love to know what the teacher said to him!
River: It does indeed. :)
GZ: I heard the teacher ask him why he thought that, but I didn't stick around to hear any more!
YP: I appreciate your kind words! I guess I was also thoughtless rolling my eyes at him.
Andrew: That IS the interesting part -- how it burned itself into my memory.
Pixie: I can't imagine a situation in which calling a child "ugly" or "stupid" could be seen as an acceptable joke.
Ms Moon: I agree that it was meaningless ridiculousness. But it's interesting that it made such an impression on me!
Boud: How interesting, that a casual comment can be reinforcing in a good way!
Ellen D: That's a big question! I still practice in little ways, but not nearly with the dedication I used to have. I very rarely meditate anymore. I struggled with the amount of time it took when I had so many other things to do.
Ed: What did she tell you? Inquiring minds want to know!
Bug: Now THAT's an interesting story. It sounds like there were many elements to that situation.
Debby: Thanks -- that's a very good observation. I wonder what the teacher said. I'm sure he encouraged my fellow student not to judge.
Linda Sue: Ha! I love the idea of "out Buddha-ing"one another! People are so funny, how anything can become competitive. I'm sure I did this too.
Robin: And yet it shows that I really did hurt his feelings, which seems incredible to me in such a small act.
Margaret: It's really stuck in my mind!
Kelly: Wow! What sect of Buddhism was HE following? To become mean-spirited and uncaring is pretty much antithetical to Buddhism, although there are some relatively controversial groups like Soka Gakkai that focus more on chanting for personal growth and enrichment.
Janie: What an odd thing for her to say. She probably had no idea you would take her comment so seriously. Perhaps she was worried about her own fingers?
Padre: Olga definitely has the best heart of all of us. :)
Jenny-O: It was actually helpful that your friend revealed her feelings. That taught you something. I wish this guy had come to me and said something directly, rather than going to a teacher -- it would have been a much more honest response!
Catalyst: Well, thank you! Do you want to write a note to my Buddhist friend to that effect? :)
Allison: Ha! It's true. Some things we can't remember at all and some useless things are burned into us forever.
Caro: Well, that's what I think too. It's actually cause for continual reflection.
She called me mentally lazy and said if I would only just apply myself to what she was teaching, I could do just about anything in life.
That would have been a dilemma. I think we all have reactions to things that aren't cruel -- as you said, "sort of defensive, that can easily be misinterpreted. I remember supervising two challenging individuals whose personalities didn't always mesh with some of their other colleagues. Some of that was simply how they reacted to things -- and how that reaction was interpreted. I have to say, your fellow sounds a bit holier than thou to have pointed that out. And how does one define a good heart. I can see why this would stick with you.
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