Drifting Clouds, Flowing Water

by Kyogen Carlson-sensei

"Here's a question for you. How can I am manage to practice

nonattachment when everything I have is invested in this business? In

this situation everything I have worked for, and that others have worked

for too, could be lost tomorrow. Just one false move and we'd all be out

of work." I was being asked, in effect, "How can I be responsible in a

really tough situation like this if I remain 'unattached,' and don't

care about how things turn out?" The man asking this question was one

who had had a career working for government agencies and was in the

process of starting his own company. It was at that critical, fledgling

stage of beginning to take off, but in need of constant care and

feeding. The pressures on him were tremendous and unrelenting, for one

miscalculation and his savings and life's work could be lost, and that

of others as well. But in terms of practice, he was far from alone in

this predicament. The specifics of his situation may have been

different, but this question is the same one asked by Buddhists for

centuries. It has always been the case that responsible people, at home

as well as at work, find that others depend upon them, sometimes a great

deal. It can seem that every which way they turn there are commitments

and responsibilities. In addition, this man was at an age when he could

see the many options of youth dropping away. As we recognize this

happening, it becomes clear how the choices we make can have profound

long term consequences. Therefore, they require very careful

consideration. What does nonattachment mean in these situations? And how

in the world does nonattachment harmonize with the idea of commitment?

The word for a Buddhist monk in Sino-Japanese is "Unsui," literally

"cloud, water." It comes, originally, from the phrase "gyoun-ryusyu", or

"drifting clouds, flowing water." Neither clouds nor water insist upon

any particular form, for they take shape according to conditions. Clouds

attach to nothing, and so drift freely across the sky. Water twists and

turns on its way down hill in complete accord with the path it must

follow. The flowing of the water has the strength to move mountains,

while the drifting of the clouds is utterly free. In these qualities we

have a perfect description of the Zen mind. Just as clouds cling to

nothing, floating free and changing with the wind, acceptance of change

is the essence of nonattachment and expresses the perfect freedom of

meditation. Flowing water follows its course naturally, without

resistance or hesitation. This lack of resistance describes the

willingness at the heart of a true commitment to Zen practice, which

like water, has the strength to move mountains. To become a monk, an

Unsui, requires ordination. By its very nature, ordination means a deep

commitment to the form of practice we call Zen Buddhism. It also means a

commitment to a teacher, and to a Sangha, or community of fellow

trainees. Ordination means a commitment to a life of training in

nonattachment, so right from the very beginning, the concepts of

nonattachment and commitment are present together in Zen teaching.

What exactly does nonattachment in Zen practice mean? First of all, it

does not imply a lack of feeling, or a quietistic unconcern. Basically,

nonattachment means all-acceptance with willingness and positivity of

mind. All-acceptance means complete willingness to admit that things are

exactly as they are. This implies absolutely nothing about whether or

not they can or should be changed, but it does mean seeing things

clearly. After all, we can't understand something that is right in front

of us if we do not first accept that it is. When we see things clearly

with an all accepting mind, we stand a much better chance of acting

wisely. All-acceptance means to drop the "self," with all its

preferences, opinions, and attachments, whenever it arises, remembering

our own free, natural mind of meditation.

In the practice of all-acceptance, one of the toughest things to do is

to drop attachment to the results of our most carefully planned actions.

Because we usually have strong expectations about how our efforts should

turn out, we often can't accept the results we actually get. Wisdom will

be quickly lost, despite our good intentions, if we are unable to live

in nonattachment while in the midst of endeavors we care very much

about. Nonattachment does not, therefore, mean we can indulge in the

selfish "freedom" of dropping responsibility, but rather that we make a

vow to drop self- centeredness in the midst of responsible action.

Now what about commitment? Commitment, of course, always implies taking

on responsibility. If "resolve" is the effort we bring forth at each

moment, commitment is the willingness to keep at something over time.

Commitment in Zen practice means to try to do our best in all situations

to make our lives an expression of that practice. A job, marriage,

family ties, relationship to a Temple, as well as becoming a monk, can

all be expressions of practice if we make a commitment to ourselves to

make it so. Commitment means a willingness to be relied upon, time and

time again, in specific ways. As a parent, spouse, or friend it is in

sharing ourselves with others, as in giving and receiving emotional and

physical support. As a worker it is in giving our best effort and being

part of the team. As a man or woman on the path of Zen, it is in making

all actions expressions of that practice. You can make the whole world

your monastery, and all living things your Sangha if you are sincere in

this. It is through this practice that we come to see the Truth

appearing everywhere. Whether or not those around us also practice does

not matter if we concentrate hard on making our own lives expressions of

practice. It can be done, but it takes real commitment to do it.

While it is true that living and practicing as a monk are different than

lay life and practice, some things are not so different as many people

think. The entrepreneur with his life savings at stake has no more

invested in his enterprise than a monk does in his practice. Some years

ago, while still living at the monastery, I faced knee surgery. This was

no great matter medically, but with it came the realization that I had

no financial resources whatsoever of my own. The monastery could not

help me, and I found that I had to seek public assistance. I was just

about 30 years old at the time, and I had spent the previous eight years

in the monastery. I had worked very hard and learned a great deal, but

my rewards were not in the least bit financial. It was then that it

occurred to me that with each passing year doors were closing behind me.

I realized with great clarity that it is very difficult to consider

another career when just about your entire work experience is as a Zen

monk. Not that I would ever want to, fortunately, but the seriousness of

the decision I made in my early 20's became vividly clear. A monk

invests her life in developing selflessness, and she forgoes other

things. Yet in a very real sense, she is just as tied to this

commitment, if not more so, as a layman is to his career and family. The

true freedom of the Unsui, it turns out, is realized when she fully

embraces the depth of commitment the life demands, willingly following

the course of training without resistance like flowing water. It is

definitely not found in a "carefree" nonattachment. It is in this

commitment to selflessness that the deepest meaning of Zen training is

found, and it is in commitment that the practice of nonattachment has

its deepest form.

Nonattachment and commitment meet in willingness. The willingness to

accept things as they are, and the willingness to let things go; this is

the essence of nonattachment. The willingness to give of ourselves, to

be depended upon, and the willingness to keep at a form of practice over

time; this is the essence of commitment. Willingness is the mind bright

and positive, the will flexible, the ability to bow; what could better

sum up Zen practice?

Zen training is sometimes referred to as stillness within activity, and

activity within stillness. In compassionate all-acceptance we find the

life of Kanzeon Bosatsu: stillness, the quiet of meditation, the essence

of nonattachment. In responsibility we find the life of Fugen Bosatsu:

loving action, transcendence of the opposites, the true meaning of

commitment. Stillness and activity, nonattachment and commitment, are

the clouds and water of the Unsui. Together they lead to the life of

Monju, wisdom itself. A life of nonattachment without commitment is like

a tree without its roots in the ground. It will grow progressively

weaker, so how could this be true freedom? Nonattachment within

commitment brings peace of mind when you know that you can bow no matter

how things turn out, even should your business fail; for then you can

know that you have done your very best. In the life of a Zen trainee,

success at the deepest level is found in this willingness to accept all

things positively, the willingness to bow, and it is not measured by any

external yardstick. You can make your own life an expression of this

practice by embracing your many responsibilities within nonattachment.

The duties of daily life can be transformed into a commitment to

practice if you vow to perform them compassionately and with

all-acceptance, drop attachment to results, and vow to keep going each

day and to do your best for all concerned. This requires the willingness

to accept things as they are, and the willingness to be depended upon.

It requires keeping the mind bright and positive, the will flexible, and

the ability to bow; what could better sum up Zen training?

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from:

STILL POINT Newsletter VOLUME XX NUMBER 7 JULY 1995

http://www.teleport.com/~ryanjb/STILLPOINT/SPJuly95.shtml#7.95