Raising the Dharma Banner

In my last post I talked about my experience of the first of three ceremonies I have to pass through to become a junior Zen teacher – the Kechimyaku (lit. bloodline) ceremony.

In this article I want to describe the next ceremony called the Hodo-shiki, and the first of the two public 'exams'.

Hodo literally means "dharma banner" and refers to the times when temples would put up a flag or banner to advertise when a visiting teacher was giving a talk on the Dharma. In our Zenways school, a Hodo-shiki (ceremony) is when a prospective teacher is tested on their intellectual knowledge of the Dharma (as opposed to their embodiment of it, which will be tested in the next ceremony, Hossen-shiki). It's a bit like a PhD viva – and it's been almost 10 years since I did one of those!

On 26th June I did my Hodo-shiki at our dojo in Camberwell in front of the sangha. In the preceding weeks I'd been revising my basic knowledge of the Dharma, based on the last few years of reading the study book list (given here). Some of my fellow trainee teachers had been sending me test questions to answer, and Daizan Roshi had also given me a list of sample questions to study. I felt reasonably confident on the test questions, but was acutely aware Daizan could ask me literally anything.

The ceremony started with me making my bows and then chanting the Hannya Shingyo (Heart Sutra) by myself. I was a touch nervous, and although my voice came out clear and steady my memory was obviously affected. I was aware somewhere in the first quarter of missing a few syllables (miraculously without missing a beat). I felt disappointed that I messed it up because I know it well! That was just the way it was – nerves have that effect.

Then I had to say "I wish to be a teacher of the Dharma. Please test my knowledge." And off we went with the questions. Daizan was sitting at one end of the dojo, and me at the other. Thankfully he didn't ask anything out of left field. He asked a few of the "name the 6 whatevers and 10 whatever elses" that Buddhism is full of (in my case the parameters and the precepts). He also asked a couple of questions more specific to me considering my background in physics – "do people use quantum mechanics to help explain the Dharma, and how successful are they?" (That'll be the subject of a future post!)

At the end he said "you've done well" and that was the end! Here's a link to the video of the ceremony where you can hear all the questions I was asked.



Although being a Zen teacher is really about being the truth and speaking as that truth (not talking about it), there's an obvious wisdom to a ceremony like this. As I become a teacher there are some basics I need to know regarding what the Buddha taught, and the history and context.

The session finished with about 40 mins of zazen (sitting meditation) and our usual tea and chat afterwards.

In my next post I'll talk about the final ceremony – the Hossen-shiki – where I have to demonstrate my ability to speak as the Dharma. If you're free to come along to it this Sunday, please do! The more the merrier!

I am a member of the Zenways sangha led by Zen master Daizan Skinner Roshi, and I teach meditation, mindfulness and yoga at the ZenYoga studio in Camberwell, London. See my website for further details.

I'd love to hear from you

Leave a comment below, I'd love to hear your thoughts.

Pass it on

Enjoyed this post? Then please tweet it, share it on Facebook or send it to friends via e-mail using the buttons below.

On the path to becoming a junior Zen teacher

In our Zenways lineage, becoming a Zen teacher happens in three stages: junior Zen teacher, senior Zen teacher and Zen master (or Roshi). Our Roshi, Daizan, likens the process of becoming a Zen teacher to an apprenticeship. It's not a structured course, or even a well defined learning journey, but individual to each person and taken at a speed directed by them.

I've been on the programme for a few years, and back in February Daizan told me he thought I was ready to do the junior-level ceremonies. I knew his would be a great honour so we went ahead and booked in some dates. 

The first one I did was called the Kechimyaku ceremony (I don't think it has to be the first one – just happened to be in my case) starting on Monday 20th June and running through to the summer solstice on 21st. In Japanese, "kechi" means blood and "myaku" means line or channel. The main emphasis of the 2-day long ceremony is to write out our Zen lineage (or "bloodline" of master-to-student) stretching all the way back to the Buddha, and take my place within that (the image shows a small part of a kechimyaku – this one is written in Chinese characters but mine was written in English).

Part of a kechimyaku written in Chinese. It starts with
emptiness, then comes Shakumuni Buddha, then all
the rest of the ancestors.

As Daizan was telling me, historians can find holes and inconsistencies in the official lineage all over the place! – in the succession of Indian masters in the centuries following the Buddha, in the line of ancient Chinese masters, and in the Japanese line too. That's not the point. The point is that each of these masters realised the truth of their Buddha-nature, and once you do that you become Buddha – you become all of the ancestors – and then the lineage is just a mark of gratitude to all those that have carried the torch down through the centuries. 

Notable in their absence, though, are the women "torch-bearers" (for a great book on this see Hidden Lamp). Only one woman appears in our lineage: Rev. Jiyu Kennett Daiosho (d. 1996) who was the founder (1972) and abbot of Throssel Hole monastery in Northumberland, England, where Daizan studied in the Soto tradition for many years. The absence of women only reflects the dominant male monastic culture throughout India, China and Japan for the last millennium, not their ability to realise enlightenment. The Buddha himself always said women can achieve equal levels of insight to men.

The kechimyaku ceremony has five components: (1) asking, (2) san-ge (purification), (3) taking your place, (4) writing out the kechimyaku lineage, and (5) endless bowing. 

The asking part involved some ceremony and symbolism around arriving into the space, and me formally asking Daizan to become a Zen teacher. Sange (pronounced san-gay) means "regret" (san) and "resolve" (ge), referring to acknowledging past harmful actions (the things you regret) and the committing never to do them again (resolve). 

In the "taking my place" section I was asked to sit in meditation for 3hrs without moving. This represents the resolve made by the Buddha before his enlightenment – "if only my skin, sinews and bones remain and the flesh and blood in my body dry up, I will not move from this place until I realise complete enlightenment". The 3hrs was about exploring that steadfast stillness and resolve.

Sitting for 3hrs in stillness wasn't easy. Daizan told me a few months ago to start preparing so I  had been slowly building my way up to the full length. I saw it like a marathon, so trained using an adapted marathon training schedule (where I replaced running distance with time)! I'd tested out a few different postures and found kneeling with a bench to be ok, and the week before my ceremony I'd done 2h30 like that. I'd generally start off with a breath counting meditation, counting to 100 a few times to stabilise and still my mind. Then I'd let go of the breath and sit in the Unborn (open presence. If my thoughts began to wander again, I'd come back to the breath counting for another few 100. I was finding after about 1h30, things would get very still indeed and almost pleasurable (I think people call this a dhyana/jhana state).

During the ceremony, however, I was sitting with my bench on a carpet rug, which (at about 15mins in) I realised wasn't as soft as the zabuton I was used to. The knobbles on my knees got very painful – excruciating at points. Nevertheless I did find some internal stillness after about 2hrs. At this point I basically just gave up trying to make the pain go away. As I stopped wanting things to be different, the suffering ceased – it's a good lesson to be reminded of.

The next part was a kind of retreat involving the writing out of my kechimyaku and a ceremony around embodying what it truly means to be a teacher. After some more meditation and many bows (the 5th stage of the ceremony), we finished sometime in the early evening. I'd been given my junior teacher Rakusu and teaching fan. Now all I have to do is prove my worth in the next two public ceremonies...

Next week I'll tell you a bit about the next stage, the first of the two public ceremonies for testing my knowledge of the Dharma called the Hodo ceremony.

I am a member of the Zenways sangha led by Zen master Daizan Roshi, and I teach meditation, mindfulness and yoga at the ZenYoga studio in Camberwell, London. See my website for further details.

I'd love to hear from you

do you have an experience of sitting still for a long period? Who do you consider to be your Dharma ancestors? Leave a comment below, I'd love to hear your thoughts.

Pass it on

Enjoyed this post? Then please tweet it, share it on Facebook or send it to friends via e-mail using the buttons below.

Yoga to work with the seasons

How are you affected by the changing seasons? Do you just feel hot in summer and cold in winter, or do you feel some other effects of the seasons?

On Saturday (29/3) I went to a yoga teachers workshop run by my Zen teacher, Daizan Skinner, on the topic of the seasons – exploring the needs of the human system through the changing year, and how we can adapt our yoga practice to work best with each season.

Living in harmony with nature includes bringing body and mind into harmony with the changing seasons. I'm sure this was obvious to people in the past whose lives were much more connected to the outside environment, but these days, with our new fangled electric lights and central heating, we can live like there's no difference between winter and summer!

In the Indian yoga tradition, less emphasis is put on the seasons since India mostly has a sub-tropical climate. In the Ayurvedic system there are only three seasons: autumn/winter, spring and summer, whereas in the Chinese/Japanese system there are five (as we'll see below).

As I've written before, in the Chinese energy meridian system, each organ and organ meridian (see this page for simple meridian diagrams) is associated with a different quality, and the seasons are no exception. Each season is associated with two paired organs, and the properties of each organ and the effects of opening their meridian line dictates the flavour of your yoga practice for that season.

Here is a summary of what we learnt for each season.

Spring
Associated organs: liver and gall bladder

The liver is located on the right side of your body just under your rib cage, and the gall bladder is tucked in right next to it. The liver's function is to remove toxins from the blood, and the meridian line runs from the big toe up the inside of the leg up to the side of the belly.

The gall bladder stores and secretes bile to aid in digesting fats and acids, and its meridian line runs from the little toe right up the side of the body up to the head.

Any imbalance in the liver-gall bladder system tends to show up in the eyes, and/or as ligament/soft tissue tension or stiffness. When it's impaired the associated emotion is anger (we English have the term "a liverish person", or to be "livid"), and when functioning well we feel creative and kind.

So in the spring, our yoga practice should concentrate on working with stiffness in body (waking up from the winter) and stiffness in our attitudes, to help us detox, release anger, working with the eyes, and encouraging creativity and kindness. Postures should concentrate on stretching/opening the sides of the body and the insides of the legs.

Myself and Yulia teaching our Spring yoga sequence

Summer
Associated organs: heart and small intestine

As we all know, the heart pumps blood around the body. It is seen as the home of the spirit, and governs joy. Interestingly, the tongue has a special relationship with the heart, being thought to be an a kind of "offshoot", and our facial complexion often reflects the state of our heart. The heart meridian line runs down the inside of our arm into the little finger.

The small intestine is five metre long narrow tube in your belly that does about 90% of the work of digestion, absorbing nutrients from the food as it passes through. It's meridian line runs from your little finger back up the outside of your arm, zig-zagging across your shoulder, and finishing on the side of your face.

When the heart-small intestine system is impaired we feel arrogance and hastiness, whereas when it's functioning well we feel love and connection.

Yoga for the summer should concentrate on opening the chest/heart area, and make use of flowing postures with an emphasis on that quality of timelessness in order to counter any hastiness. This would be the time to explore a more athletic practice to get the heart rate going, and at the same time foster an appreciation and love of the body and mind. Bear in mind though, that in the summer the mind is at it's most outward looking and distracted, so balancing this with some time for quiet introspection and calmness would work well.


Late summer (harvest)
Associated organs: spleen and stomach

In our western medical understanding, the spleen is part of your lymphatic system, and acts as a blood filter, destroys old red blood cells and helps fight infections. In the traditional Chinese medical system though, it's understood to have a very different function! It's seen as governing the transportation and absorption of food and water, turning digested food into usable nutrients, and ki (chi) energy for the body. It's also understood to control muscle strength, thinking and pondering, and is connected to the lips and mouth (like the heart is to the tongue). The spleen meridian runs from the big toe up the front inside of the leg, over the front of the hip up to the arm pit.

The stomach is located next to the spleen, on the left just under the rib cage. It's function is to receive food from the oesophagus, and secrete acid and enzymes to digest the food. The stomach muscles contract periodically, churning everything around to help everything digest fully. It then passes this partly-digested food onwards to the small intestine for further digestion and absorption. The stomach line runs from the 2nd toe up the front of the leg, front of the hip, the front side of the belly and chest, finishing up on the cheek next to the nose.


When the stomach-spleen system isn't working too well then we feel worried and insecure; or if it's functioning well then we feel empathetic, and nourished.


Yoga for the late summer should emphasise our connection to the earth, perhaps with poses close to the floor. Smooth continuous movements help to extend and challenge the muscles, particularly along the front side of the body where both these meridians run. Obviously back bends work well for this, but beware that going into a backbend too strongly can stimulate worry and insecurity in some people, not release it. Exercises using the voice and explanations that encourage a very detailed attention to bodily sensations helps to assuage any pondering and worry.


Autumn
Associated organs: lungs and large intestine


The lungs obviously get us breathing – they control respiration. However, in the Chinese system, they are also associated with governing ki (chi energy), disseminating and regulating water in the body, and controlling skin and body hair. They are also connected to the nose. The lung meridian runs from the thumb along the inside of the arm to the shoulder.

The large intestine's job is to remove water and any remaining absorbable nutrients from the food as it passes through, before sending the indigestible matter to the rectum. As a matter of interest, the full digestion of our food takes about 16 hours from start to finish! The large intestine also absorbs vitamins that are created by the colonic bacteria, such as vitamin K, vitamin B12, thiamine and riboflavin. It's meridian line runs from the index finger along the top of the arm up, over the top of the shoulder, up the side of the face to the nostril.


When these organs and their energy systems are functioning well we have an ability to let go and move forward; when they're not there's a sense of grief or depression. There's a clear connection here between these emotional qualities and the organ functions!

Yoga for the autumn should therefore focus on releasing and letting go on all levels. Shaking movements very helpful for this. Since the lungs are involved, a focus on breath-work would also be good.


Winter
Associated organs: kidney and bladder

Physiologically, the kidneys act like a filters to remove wastes and fluids from the blood – each day they process around 200 litres, removing about 1-2 litres as urine. The kidneys make three important hormones: erythropoietin to stimulate the production of red blood cells, renin which is involved in the control of blood pressure, and vitamin D which controls calcium uptake and helps make strong bones. They are connected with the ears, and energetically, thought to govern the reception of qi (chi) from the air. They kidneys suffer a lot when they get cold, so in Japan, they often wear a 'haramaki' – a garment worn around the abdomen (hara) to keep the stomach and kidneys warm. In the days of the samurai, it was a long piece of cloth (often augmented with chain mail or other metals) wrapped around and around the belly, but these days you can get something far more comfortable and convenient. The kidney meridian runs from the ball of your foot, up the inside of your leg, and up the front of your belly and chest, finishing at your collar bone.

The bladder the waste fluids filtered out by the kidneys, meaning that we don't have to constantly leak waste fluids – we can go to the loo and release a batch at a time... It's normal capacity is 400-600 ml. The bladder is lined by layers of muscle tissue. During urination, the bladder muscles contract, and two valves open to allow urine to flow out to the urethra (which passes through the centre of the penis in men). The bladder meridian runs from the little toe, up the back of the leg, splits and runs in two parallel lines just to the side of your spine, over the back of the head and finishes in the corner of your eye.

When this paired system is functioning well we feel a sense of courage, or a can-do attitude; when it isn't we might feel emotions relating to despair. When the kidneys are feeling down, the whole system can feel down, so that's why it's so important to protect and take care of your kidneys.

Yoga for the winter should therefore focus on warming the body (particularly the lower back and kidney area; perhaps through tapping or rubbing), and opening through the kidney and bladder meridians. The feet can also suffer a lot at this time of year, getting cold and never seeing the light of day, so giving them some attention can be nice. Mobilising the joints can help to release trapped cold, and a slower, more restorative practice connects in with our winter hibernating tendencies.

Kidney tapping/rubbing

In the workshop, we then split into pairs, each taking a season and coming up with a 30min yoga sequence relevant to that season. Teaching these sequences back-to-back, we experienced a whole year of yoga in just 2 and 1/2 hrs!

The art of being a teacher

A while back, my teacher Jonathan Monks read out a quote from Yogi Manmoyanand in one of our sadhana course sessions. It relates to being a teacher. Because it was in a book about yoga, I guess he was talking about being a yoga teacher, but it's absolutely relevant to being any kind of teacher.

It's beautiful - I keep on thinking about it and re-reading it. As Jonathan said at the time, there's a great deal to chew on. How much of this can we put into practice in our daily teaching? Is it possible to be fully as he says in the Western world?

I'm not going to attempt to paraphrase - just read it.

"No matter how good or bad, wise or dumb the teacher may be, he always remains respectable in the eyes of the student.
A teacher never makes the student; it is always the student who makes a teacher.
A teacher is only a teacher for the purpose of the student.
A teacher does not claim himself as such; rather it is the student who recognises him as a teacher.

The answers from a student only reflect his recollection capacity, while his questions reveal the way he thinks, and this is precisely what the teacher is looking for.
The mode of questioning of a student always helps the teacher to modify his teaching, and thus allows the teacher to remain completely aware of the student's questioning pulse.
A teacher is never satisfied with the correct answers provided by the student; rather he looks for the correct questions from the student.

The teacher should never be jealous and protective about his teachings and should never attempt. To give his teachings a concrete shape in the mind of the student.
The teaching has to be perfectly fluid and flexible. Creating a rigid and concrete block in the mind of a student causes more damage then any long term benefit. Such kind of teaching is less teaching, more brain-washing. Hence, all attempts to create a solid 'belief' in the mind of a student must be avoided.

The teacher should bear in mind that he is only a passing phase in the student's life, and any attempt to hold onto that phase will only prove disastrous for the student.
A teacher has no right over the future of his student.
The teacher should be willing to pass away from the memory of his student.

The teaching is never judged on the basis of how much knowledge was imparted, but on the basis of how much knowledge was demanded.
A teacher can expect nothing from his students, though he deserves and is entitled to a 'tuition fee' from his students, which he can ask for only at the end of the teaching - not on the basis of how much he has given, but on the basis of how much the student has taken.
Greed and expectation always spoil and dilute the teacher-student relationship.
As long as the teacher has not embodied the correct mindset of teaching, he should not commence teaching." 

Sivananda Buried Yoga; Yogi Manmoyanand; O Books; 2008