Mountains Talking |
Archive |
Reading List |
Teisho Tapes Catalog
The Quarterly Newsletter of The Zen Center of Denver
Lotus in the Flame Temple
Summer 1997
The Dark Night of the Soul: Curse or Gift?
A morning talk given by Sensei during the April 1997 sesshin.
The first day of sesshin is often called the "Day of Establishing the Practice," for it is the time when we settle down seriously to the work of establishing the process of uninterrupted zazen. The second day is often called the "Day of Pain" for it is not uncommon to experience considerable discomfort and pain at this point of sesshin. It is a fact that the first three or four days of sesshin involve a lot of discomfort and pain in a variety of forms. In the past I have often looked at this as simply the price that must be paid for transformation, a kind of "necessary evil." No pain, no gain. By way of expressing this, I have from time to time quoted Robert Browning's lines, "Grow old along with me, The best is yet to be, The last of life, for which the first was made." And in sesshin it is indeed wonderful for the teacher to see a student who has been struggling courageously with pain and despair for days come into the dokusan room unencumbered, unburdened, moving freely and joyfully. It makes all the pain and struggle very much worth it. But in this sesshin I have begun to view the dark night of the soul quite differently. When, like in this sesshin, there are several people attending their first sesshin, the teacher feels the pain, frustration and despair of the new aspirants anew. The teacher suffers along with the students. Is there any significance to this pain and struggle other than that it is the price that must be paid for growing beyond narrowness, something inevitable in unseating the ego from its dominant position in the mind? I think there definitely is.
Ramana Maharshi said, "A genuine seeker is someone who has a constant and passionate longing to break free from life's sorrow--not by running away from it, but by growing beyond his mind and by experiencing in himself the reality of the Self, which knows neither birth nor death." Notice that he said that we break free from life's sorrow not by running away from it. We've been looking carefully at a statement by John Tarrant Roshi in which he insists that the "wounding of consciousness," our being "stained" by "the greed, the sadness, the anger, and the ignorance" "can be the essence of the Bodhisattva life."* There is a koan which asks, "How is it that Bodhisattvas have unceasing desires?" The Bodhisattva knows full well the yearnings and cravings, the feelings of insufficiency, fear and despair that all humans are subject to. The Bodhisattva hears the cries of the world in a very personal way. The Bodhisattva suffers with all humanity. After a sesshin in which there is a lot of pain, it is Aitken Roshi's habit to take a few days to be alone to restore himself. He has been wounded by the pain and suffering of new students and must heal.
Perhaps, then, the first part of sesshin with its inevitable hardship, struggle and darkness, is as important, if not more important than, the second half of sesshin with its relative ease and freedom. Perhaps it is crucial that we really go into this suffering and despair that is the human condition. In the process of letting go of our thoughts, feelings and moods we come face to face with them like at no other time in our lives. This is very important. This is how we become truly human or humane. This is how we get in touch with our humanity. This is how we experience a tender and loving heart --the ability to empathize, to suffer with. When one has done this work of knowing personally their own wounded consciousness and grown beyond the mind, then when one says to someone who suffers, "It is alright. All shall be well, all shall be well and all manner of things shall be well. Underneath are the everlasting arms," that reassurance bears the power of personal testimony to the anguish and the release.
So know that this work of suffering your condition is not merely the price that must be paid for liberation. It is the Bodhisattva path that addresses directly the great ocean of human suffering. It is your entrance into the life of the Bodhisattva, a life of mercy and compassion.
* In an essay entitled "The Fortunate and Ongoing Disaster of Lay life" John Tarrant Roshi writes, "The pathologies of a lay life relate to a kind of getting lost, a forgetting of the quest, an unconscious immersion in the world. So much time is spent changing diapers or watching the stock market ticker that zazen never gets up enough steam to bring about a real change. We are so close to the greed, the sadness, the anger, and the ignorance that it's impossible not to get stained by them...The world penetrates us. But this wounding of consciousness can be the essence of the Bodhisattva life."
Back to Archive
