What do you think?
Rate this book
Zen Confidential: Confessions of a Wayward Monk
“This punk of a monk, who should be tending to his own affairs, has decided to infect the real world with his tall tales, and worse, to let the cat out of the bag. And what a sly, dangerous, beautiful, foul-smelling, heart-warming beast it is.”—Leonard Cohen, from the foreword
These hilarious essays on life inside and outside a Zen monastery make up the spiritual memoir of Shozan Jack Haubner, a Zen monk who didn’t really start out to be one. Raised in a conservative Catholic family, Shozan went on to study philosophy (becoming de-Catholicized in the process) and to pursue a career as a screenwriter and stand-up comic in the clubs of L.A. How he went from life in the fast lane to life on the stationary meditation cushion is the subject of this laugh-out-loud funny account of his experiences. Whether he's dealing with the pranks of a juvenile delinquent assistant in the monastery kitchen or defending himself against claims that he appeared in a porno movie under the name "Daniel Reed" (he didn't, really) or being surprised in the midst of it all by the compassion he experiences in the presence of his teacher, Haubner's voice is one you'll be compelled to listen to. Not only because it's highly entertaining, but because of its remarkable insight into the human condition.
These hilarious essays on life inside and outside a Zen monastery make up the spiritual memoir of Shozan Jack Haubner, a Zen monk who didn’t really start out to be one. Raised in a conservative Catholic family, Shozan went on to study philosophy (becoming de-Catholicized in the process) and to pursue a career as a screenwriter and stand-up comic in the clubs of L.A. How he went from life in the fast lane to life on the stationary meditation cushion is the subject of this laugh-out-loud funny account of his experiences. Whether he's dealing with the pranks of a juvenile delinquent assistant in the monastery kitchen or defending himself against claims that he appeared in a porno movie under the name "Daniel Reed" (he didn't, really) or being surprised in the midst of it all by the compassion he experiences in the presence of his teacher, Haubner's voice is one you'll be compelled to listen to. Not only because it's highly entertaining, but because of its remarkable insight into the human condition.
269 pages, Paperback
First published May 1, 2013
89 people are currently reading
1152 people want to read
Ratings & Reviews
Friends & Following
Create a free account to discover what your friends think of this book!
Community Reviews
Displaying 1 - 30 of 101 reviews
November 17, 2024
Discovering your true self is problematic, to say the least.
As well as going against the flow of society’s often necessary constraints and strictures, you’re apt to encounter quite a few personal devils. And that’s dangerous.
Great writers, like Leonard Cohen - who knew Shozan Jack as a friend and praised him for his truth and candor - have tried to sublimate these devils through their writing.
But publicizing your struggles with your shadows is a growing experience - because not only do we grow in becoming aware of them, but they grow as well! So that we can become trapped in a vicious squirrel-cage.
As Cohen, rest his angst-ridden soul, discovered when - late in life - he met Jack and his unorthodox Zen Master! All of you who know the poetry of Leonard Cohen know that he was the archetypal Canadian Poet of Becoming.
He grew up among searchers - Jack Layton and Joni Mitchell to mention but two of his Canadian co-Seekers. But when you’re consumed with the dull flame of your private corporal devils, you seek refuge in your Persona, and your fire glows dully instead of burning brightly.
We begin to search for Pure Being rather than sticking with just Becoming.
Then your fire goes out. Passion seems exciting but it’s a fool’s game. You end up becoming an image. So Cohen became a Buddhist disciple. The dharma or nothing.
But dharma bums are ersatz disciples. Real disciples have Fire. Cohen’s had gone out.
Our pains as well as our joys will increase - guaranteed - if we feed our shadows. And thinking we can expunge the pains without jettisoning our pleasures is nonsense. So we tend to whine about it.
That’s what Shozan Jack and Cohen do here. They objectify their self-pity as an icon, a trophy for public viewing. But that never works. It’s water, instead of fuel, for the Fire of the Spirit. And the devils remain intact. Stronger than ever.
For self-pity is a dead end: and if we’re at all honest, maturity demands sacrifices. Life is a struggle...
When I was a toddler, my mom filled my days with the music of Beethoven and Brahms.
How easily their symphonies became pleasant containers for my infantile self-pity, unknown to my parents! A self-pity that would later rage against their own and the world’s injustice, to my detriment.
I had a lot of growing up to do.
But eventually, as I grew (so painfully slowly) in understanding, I found that those devils have got to be sacrificed on the fire of self-abnegation.
Just like our forbears always said. Who said the modern way is best?
Don’t be misled.
The traditional way is the only way to peace. We have to grow up. Dear old Leonard never found that peace, and I pray Shozan Jack won’t make the same mistake. The chthonic way will always be the wrong way, however palatable it may seem. For strait indeed is the Gate.
Why is it that people who are truly mature gain our respect more easily than others who aren’t? Because with maturity comes wisdom. And that’s the purpose of Zen. To grow up and become whole human beings - endlessly growing.
Of course, it’s also the purpose of all the great religions.
My own Christian beliefs are no exception, if I can ever learn to completely adhere to them - a tall order at the best of times, and well-nigh impossible unless it’s continuously moment-by-moment. We human beings nowadays find it hard to face the blaring truths of life head-on, and hence our vast variety of escapes.
But the only way we’ll survive as a species is by growing up, and facing the music. Our religions are ladders to becoming ourselves - and to seeing clearly our place in the world - but not quite like Leonard and Jack did.
For to them, religions only worked if they were conducive to having their own way.
In spite of their noisy Shadows’ and the world’s judgement of them.
And by so doing - alas! - they just fed their inner wolves, and kept them fit... so they kept on eating them ALIVE.
No fit life for man OR beast.
As well as going against the flow of society’s often necessary constraints and strictures, you’re apt to encounter quite a few personal devils. And that’s dangerous.
Great writers, like Leonard Cohen - who knew Shozan Jack as a friend and praised him for his truth and candor - have tried to sublimate these devils through their writing.
But publicizing your struggles with your shadows is a growing experience - because not only do we grow in becoming aware of them, but they grow as well! So that we can become trapped in a vicious squirrel-cage.
As Cohen, rest his angst-ridden soul, discovered when - late in life - he met Jack and his unorthodox Zen Master! All of you who know the poetry of Leonard Cohen know that he was the archetypal Canadian Poet of Becoming.
He grew up among searchers - Jack Layton and Joni Mitchell to mention but two of his Canadian co-Seekers. But when you’re consumed with the dull flame of your private corporal devils, you seek refuge in your Persona, and your fire glows dully instead of burning brightly.
We begin to search for Pure Being rather than sticking with just Becoming.
Then your fire goes out. Passion seems exciting but it’s a fool’s game. You end up becoming an image. So Cohen became a Buddhist disciple. The dharma or nothing.
But dharma bums are ersatz disciples. Real disciples have Fire. Cohen’s had gone out.
Our pains as well as our joys will increase - guaranteed - if we feed our shadows. And thinking we can expunge the pains without jettisoning our pleasures is nonsense. So we tend to whine about it.
That’s what Shozan Jack and Cohen do here. They objectify their self-pity as an icon, a trophy for public viewing. But that never works. It’s water, instead of fuel, for the Fire of the Spirit. And the devils remain intact. Stronger than ever.
For self-pity is a dead end: and if we’re at all honest, maturity demands sacrifices. Life is a struggle...
When I was a toddler, my mom filled my days with the music of Beethoven and Brahms.
How easily their symphonies became pleasant containers for my infantile self-pity, unknown to my parents! A self-pity that would later rage against their own and the world’s injustice, to my detriment.
I had a lot of growing up to do.
But eventually, as I grew (so painfully slowly) in understanding, I found that those devils have got to be sacrificed on the fire of self-abnegation.
Just like our forbears always said. Who said the modern way is best?
Don’t be misled.
The traditional way is the only way to peace. We have to grow up. Dear old Leonard never found that peace, and I pray Shozan Jack won’t make the same mistake. The chthonic way will always be the wrong way, however palatable it may seem. For strait indeed is the Gate.
Why is it that people who are truly mature gain our respect more easily than others who aren’t? Because with maturity comes wisdom. And that’s the purpose of Zen. To grow up and become whole human beings - endlessly growing.
Of course, it’s also the purpose of all the great religions.
My own Christian beliefs are no exception, if I can ever learn to completely adhere to them - a tall order at the best of times, and well-nigh impossible unless it’s continuously moment-by-moment. We human beings nowadays find it hard to face the blaring truths of life head-on, and hence our vast variety of escapes.
But the only way we’ll survive as a species is by growing up, and facing the music. Our religions are ladders to becoming ourselves - and to seeing clearly our place in the world - but not quite like Leonard and Jack did.
For to them, religions only worked if they were conducive to having their own way.
In spite of their noisy Shadows’ and the world’s judgement of them.
And by so doing - alas! - they just fed their inner wolves, and kept them fit... so they kept on eating them ALIVE.
No fit life for man OR beast.
December 12, 2017
Just a few pages in, I already loved this book. The irreverence and unflinching honesty was a refreshing attempt to break the Western stereotypes of Zen practice and of the monk’s life. People’s idea of Buddhism in general are often hilariously off the mark and I really appreciate Haubner taking a sledge hammer to those silly misconceptions.
The book is a collection of vignettes Haubner wrote over his years as a monk living in a Zen monastery in California. He exposes the workings of his mind and how his perspective widens, changes and deepens over the years. It was nice to read this from the voice of someone who is a mess, has a dirty mind and tends towards oversharing: that makes me feel like all hope is not lost for me!
Most people who have made sincere efforts at any kind of meditation practice – Zen or other – will understand: people think it’s just sitting there, but sometimes, it’s really, really fucking hard! You feel like you are doing it all wrong, you feel like everything about you is wrong. Because Zen is not about getting all blissed out: it’s about facing reality with complete honesty and dealing with it, warts and all. And Ranzai Zen is especially hardcore in its approach.
Haubner's stories about his hyper-conservative family, his interactions with difficult students, his interpretation of very modern dilemmas as koans: I found it all incredibly moving and thought-provoking. His descriptions of the less glamorous sides of monastic living are as inspiring as they are cringe-worthy.
I read a few of the negative reviews and they made me chuckle: this is definitely not a book for everyone. If scatological humour is not your thing, maybe don’t read this one (there is a lot of poop in here!). If you’ve read some Brad Warner books and enjoyed them, you should probably check this out! Just keep in mind that this isn’t an introduction or instruction manual on Zen practice, this is simply someone sharing their experience as a Zen monk. Hilarious, insightful and occasionally off-putting. In other words, pretty awesome!
The book is a collection of vignettes Haubner wrote over his years as a monk living in a Zen monastery in California. He exposes the workings of his mind and how his perspective widens, changes and deepens over the years. It was nice to read this from the voice of someone who is a mess, has a dirty mind and tends towards oversharing: that makes me feel like all hope is not lost for me!
Most people who have made sincere efforts at any kind of meditation practice – Zen or other – will understand: people think it’s just sitting there, but sometimes, it’s really, really fucking hard! You feel like you are doing it all wrong, you feel like everything about you is wrong. Because Zen is not about getting all blissed out: it’s about facing reality with complete honesty and dealing with it, warts and all. And Ranzai Zen is especially hardcore in its approach.
Haubner's stories about his hyper-conservative family, his interactions with difficult students, his interpretation of very modern dilemmas as koans: I found it all incredibly moving and thought-provoking. His descriptions of the less glamorous sides of monastic living are as inspiring as they are cringe-worthy.
I read a few of the negative reviews and they made me chuckle: this is definitely not a book for everyone. If scatological humour is not your thing, maybe don’t read this one (there is a lot of poop in here!). If you’ve read some Brad Warner books and enjoyed them, you should probably check this out! Just keep in mind that this isn’t an introduction or instruction manual on Zen practice, this is simply someone sharing their experience as a Zen monk. Hilarious, insightful and occasionally off-putting. In other words, pretty awesome!
August 12, 2013
I like memoirs written by Buddhist monks. Buddhism is a uniquely personal experience and everyone's experience is different. I especially like the "in your face" Buddhists, what I call punk Buddhists.
The chapter that stopped me in my tracks was entitled "Shitty Monk". It's about when Haubner stepped out of walking meditation and ran to use the restroom. Let's just say he didn't make it in time. Not even close. For the whole chapter he describes how going back into the zendo, with (and he describes it as HUGE) mess in his robes and down his legs, as a lesson in humility or something (I didn't get it.) WTF? Now, I understand that Zen Buddhists take discipline to the far corners (so much so, as to have a head monk that hits you with a stick if you slouch during meditation). Zen Buddhism is really a different animal that I admit I don't understand. But really? What about the comfort of the other people in the zendo? Did he think of that? That couldn't have been pleasant for them. I asked a monk once (granted not of the Zen sect), why no garlic or onions in their food. I waited for words of wisdom and enlightenment with rapt attention. I was ready to hang on every word like Grasshoppa' in Kung Fu. He said that in the old days, when there were many monks, crammed into a small place, sitting hours of meditation...the after effects of garlic and onions could be malodorous. They just decided to nix them. Oh. OK. But at least it makes SENSE, it's thoughtful and respectful...I don't see the lesson in sitting your squishy butt down next to someone, not even mentioning ruining a perfectly good cushion. Haubner seems to have a poo poo fetish, because there are many stories in the book that revolve around bodily functions and secretions of one sort or the other (let your imagination run wild, and you got it).
I didn't find this book funny, and I'm not too proud to partake in teenage boy humor from time to time. This just wasn't funny. There was lots of sex, poop, and disgruntled angry people at this monastery. It's hard to believe all the things he writes about occuring here, are true. Yet, it's Mt. Baldy Zen Center, so maybe all the stories written about it are real (the recently retired 106 year old teacher has been accused of sexual misconduct with females at the center since the '70's).
There is very little wisdom in this book, only raunchy stories and potty humor. I assume Haubner wanted everyone to understand that Buddhists are human, and have the same feelings of jealousy, hatred, revenge, pettiness etc...that everyone else does. (Duh.) There were no words that commanded reflection or deep understanding. But, if at some point in your life, you crap your pants (robes), there certainly is an alternative solution presented here for you to ponder. I just really hope I'm not in the zendo with you if you decide you need a lesson in humility.
The chapter that stopped me in my tracks was entitled "Shitty Monk". It's about when Haubner stepped out of walking meditation and ran to use the restroom. Let's just say he didn't make it in time. Not even close. For the whole chapter he describes how going back into the zendo, with (and he describes it as HUGE) mess in his robes and down his legs, as a lesson in humility or something (I didn't get it.) WTF? Now, I understand that Zen Buddhists take discipline to the far corners (so much so, as to have a head monk that hits you with a stick if you slouch during meditation). Zen Buddhism is really a different animal that I admit I don't understand. But really? What about the comfort of the other people in the zendo? Did he think of that? That couldn't have been pleasant for them. I asked a monk once (granted not of the Zen sect), why no garlic or onions in their food. I waited for words of wisdom and enlightenment with rapt attention. I was ready to hang on every word like Grasshoppa' in Kung Fu. He said that in the old days, when there were many monks, crammed into a small place, sitting hours of meditation...the after effects of garlic and onions could be malodorous. They just decided to nix them. Oh. OK. But at least it makes SENSE, it's thoughtful and respectful...I don't see the lesson in sitting your squishy butt down next to someone, not even mentioning ruining a perfectly good cushion. Haubner seems to have a poo poo fetish, because there are many stories in the book that revolve around bodily functions and secretions of one sort or the other (let your imagination run wild, and you got it).
I didn't find this book funny, and I'm not too proud to partake in teenage boy humor from time to time. This just wasn't funny. There was lots of sex, poop, and disgruntled angry people at this monastery. It's hard to believe all the things he writes about occuring here, are true. Yet, it's Mt. Baldy Zen Center, so maybe all the stories written about it are real (the recently retired 106 year old teacher has been accused of sexual misconduct with females at the center since the '70's).
There is very little wisdom in this book, only raunchy stories and potty humor. I assume Haubner wanted everyone to understand that Buddhists are human, and have the same feelings of jealousy, hatred, revenge, pettiness etc...that everyone else does. (Duh.) There were no words that commanded reflection or deep understanding. But, if at some point in your life, you crap your pants (robes), there certainly is an alternative solution presented here for you to ponder. I just really hope I'm not in the zendo with you if you decide you need a lesson in humility.
July 14, 2013
I wanted to like this book. I really did. Even though the title is just a rip-off )usually not a good sign).
But I just couldn't. It was a real slog.
We're there a few moments of insight? Sure. Here and there. But mostly it was way overwritten. I kept thinking of the admonition in Strunk & White not to affect a breezy manner. The author's persona in this book was far too affected: why choose one metaphor or simile when you can choose two? Why let a page go by without several? Pare that down, and there was a lot less to the book.
(Yes, there's a certain irony to a book on Zen being overwritten.)
The issue with which Haubner deals is a central tension in Zen (and Buddhism more generally); the relationship between the practitioner and his or her attempt to accept the existence of suffering with worldly engagement. Although there is very little talk about social justice in the book, Haubner clearly comes down on the side of Zen being a very human, and thus very engaged, act. No one in the book is particularly likeable--which is a problem--because Haubner wants to make certain that the reader understands even people living in a Zen monastery are severely fucked up individuals. The goal is not to transcend that state or improve it, but accept it.
The curse word is not an accident here. As part of Haubner's attempt to de-mystify Zen, he dwells on the scatalogical, especially, but there is also plenty of sex and drugs. (He suggests that those trying to avoid attachment are especially prone to fall into addiction.) To an extent, this is interesting, but the book never really gets beyond that.
And that is the fault of the structure, I think. These are a series of interconnected essays (although there is too much repetition between them), and so a story--fragmented, but still a story. And that story is set out as a more or less typical conversion narrative, with Haubner having to go back and face the demons he left with his family, trying to understand his (very randy, very gay) mentor, and his own place in the world. But this seems like a poor choice of structure for a Buddhist story, and, indeed, the lack of any real culmination ends up making the structure feel flaccid and the book seem to go nowhere.
But I just couldn't. It was a real slog.
We're there a few moments of insight? Sure. Here and there. But mostly it was way overwritten. I kept thinking of the admonition in Strunk & White not to affect a breezy manner. The author's persona in this book was far too affected: why choose one metaphor or simile when you can choose two? Why let a page go by without several? Pare that down, and there was a lot less to the book.
(Yes, there's a certain irony to a book on Zen being overwritten.)
The issue with which Haubner deals is a central tension in Zen (and Buddhism more generally); the relationship between the practitioner and his or her attempt to accept the existence of suffering with worldly engagement. Although there is very little talk about social justice in the book, Haubner clearly comes down on the side of Zen being a very human, and thus very engaged, act. No one in the book is particularly likeable--which is a problem--because Haubner wants to make certain that the reader understands even people living in a Zen monastery are severely fucked up individuals. The goal is not to transcend that state or improve it, but accept it.
The curse word is not an accident here. As part of Haubner's attempt to de-mystify Zen, he dwells on the scatalogical, especially, but there is also plenty of sex and drugs. (He suggests that those trying to avoid attachment are especially prone to fall into addiction.) To an extent, this is interesting, but the book never really gets beyond that.
And that is the fault of the structure, I think. These are a series of interconnected essays (although there is too much repetition between them), and so a story--fragmented, but still a story. And that story is set out as a more or less typical conversion narrative, with Haubner having to go back and face the demons he left with his family, trying to understand his (very randy, very gay) mentor, and his own place in the world. But this seems like a poor choice of structure for a Buddhist story, and, indeed, the lack of any real culmination ends up making the structure feel flaccid and the book seem to go nowhere.
August 2, 2013
Currently reading, and having a great time! Very funny, gives good insight into the middle path as it is being trekked now, by an American, on the edge of L.A. Culture. Being female, I find Haubner is a bit heavy on the guy-humor, but if you live with men and can accept them you'll be good. And, like I said it's all FUNNY as hell! Great writing.
October 17, 2013
This book is a bit of a mixed bag (hence the 3 star rating...probably closer to 2.5). Some chapters are a 5; others are definitely a slog. As other reviews have stated, Haubner is heavy on the bro humour in parts and this can be distracting from some otherwise great moments of insight (and I say this as a guy in his mid-twenties who is probably the target audience). The chapters about abortion, dealing with difficult people, and dealing with family were particularly good, and the final chapter where he goes to Las Vegas with the Roshi is funnier than the rest, even though there's amusing moments throughout. The chapters about his mentor and his "accident" in the sitting hall were a little over the top though. It redeemed itself in the last chapter, but was otherwise just okay.
June 16, 2013
What I appreciated most about this memoir is the unflinching honesty with which the author exposes the inner workings of his mind. When Leonard Cohen accuses Haubner of 'letting the cat out of the bag,' this refers to what really happens behind the mythological stereotypes of monastic life and practice.
Irreverent, and often very, very funny!
Irreverent, and often very, very funny!
November 1, 2017
When it comes to Zen masters who have a talent at writing and a sense of humor there can be only one! That Highlander is Shozan Jack Haubner, a warm, funny guy who likes to overshare about his bodily functions, usually involving bowel movements and masturbation. Aren’t they two of the Noble Truths?
His first book, ZEN CONFIDENTIAL: CONFESSIONS OF A WAYWARD MONK, is a collection of essays, missives from behind the walls of a Zen monastery. It’s reminded me of a prison memoir, an eye-opening look into a world few of us ever see or ever would want to see. But instead of the dehumanizing brutality of an impersonal punitive corrections system we get the dehumanizing brutality of an impersonal punitive spiritual system.
Zen isn’t the mindfulness smiley face that’s is branded across T-shirts and corporate team-building exercises. It’s an astringent spiritual practice designed to strip you of illusions, good, bad and indifferent, through rigorous mediation, so you can live your life, good, bad and indifferent. That’s not as fun as it sounds. It usually means following arcane rules, forms and riddles without answers.
But it suits some, especially those who are seeking meaning in a life that feels devoid of anything deeper than a puddle of their own drool. Haubner is definitely a seeker, and he sets up dramas that play out to expose the falseness of his ideas and then are resolved by hinting at a truth, usually hard-earned.
I’m not so sure about that. The idea that a “story” has a beginning and middle, where it's all wrapped up in the end is a bit arbitrary. You’re born, stuff happens and you die, which bookends the narrative of your life, but doesn’t really mean anything. It’s like where you cut a piece of sausage. That’s not the missing link, it’s just a skin filled with shit.
But that’s me. Haubner is a good storyteller, and he does have something to say, and says it well. Much better, I think, than many other practitioners of Zen who seem attached to the sacred without acknowledging the profane. Haubner might be too profane for some, but I think he’s onto something.
Buddhism originated in India, moved to China, then Japan, before landing on our Western shores within the last 100 years or so. As it stepped into each new geography, the religion took on cultural tones of the region and evolved. There are many types of Buddhism, of course, of which Zen is one, but one that has become almost it’s own whole practice.
How will that practice play out as it develops in the United States? There’s a taint of the past that it carries, an Asian mannerism, which many hold onto like a fetish. It doesn’t align with our culture, which is vastly different than that of India, China and Japan. I think we’re in the progress of Zen taking on a Western tone that is going to usher in a whole new stage of its evolution.
Haubner might be the person to help shepherd the transformation to a Zen practice that speaks to our culture, finding the necessary entry points by which it can deliver its goods, and that would be a great good. Because we need the help.
His first book, ZEN CONFIDENTIAL: CONFESSIONS OF A WAYWARD MONK, is a collection of essays, missives from behind the walls of a Zen monastery. It’s reminded me of a prison memoir, an eye-opening look into a world few of us ever see or ever would want to see. But instead of the dehumanizing brutality of an impersonal punitive corrections system we get the dehumanizing brutality of an impersonal punitive spiritual system.
Zen isn’t the mindfulness smiley face that’s is branded across T-shirts and corporate team-building exercises. It’s an astringent spiritual practice designed to strip you of illusions, good, bad and indifferent, through rigorous mediation, so you can live your life, good, bad and indifferent. That’s not as fun as it sounds. It usually means following arcane rules, forms and riddles without answers.
But it suits some, especially those who are seeking meaning in a life that feels devoid of anything deeper than a puddle of their own drool. Haubner is definitely a seeker, and he sets up dramas that play out to expose the falseness of his ideas and then are resolved by hinting at a truth, usually hard-earned.
I’m not so sure about that. The idea that a “story” has a beginning and middle, where it's all wrapped up in the end is a bit arbitrary. You’re born, stuff happens and you die, which bookends the narrative of your life, but doesn’t really mean anything. It’s like where you cut a piece of sausage. That’s not the missing link, it’s just a skin filled with shit.
But that’s me. Haubner is a good storyteller, and he does have something to say, and says it well. Much better, I think, than many other practitioners of Zen who seem attached to the sacred without acknowledging the profane. Haubner might be too profane for some, but I think he’s onto something.
Buddhism originated in India, moved to China, then Japan, before landing on our Western shores within the last 100 years or so. As it stepped into each new geography, the religion took on cultural tones of the region and evolved. There are many types of Buddhism, of course, of which Zen is one, but one that has become almost it’s own whole practice.
How will that practice play out as it develops in the United States? There’s a taint of the past that it carries, an Asian mannerism, which many hold onto like a fetish. It doesn’t align with our culture, which is vastly different than that of India, China and Japan. I think we’re in the progress of Zen taking on a Western tone that is going to usher in a whole new stage of its evolution.
Haubner might be the person to help shepherd the transformation to a Zen practice that speaks to our culture, finding the necessary entry points by which it can deliver its goods, and that would be a great good. Because we need the help.
March 20, 2023
The witty writing and self-deprecating humor had me hooked initially, but it gets tiresome after a while.
August 8, 2013
The two-star rating is not meant as a slam. They mean "it was ok" and on the whole, the book is okay. I call books like this "zenoirs," books written by students of zen as opposed to authorized masters. The giant of this sub-genre, I guess, is Peter Matthiessen's Nine-Headed Dragon River: Zen Journals, 1969-1982. Haubner writes as a ten-year student of zen and takes great pains not to put himself on a high seat. If anything, he goes to the opposite extreme, stuck on portraying himself as a low-status, confused, temperamental and not-so-holy fool.
The book is very entertaining and the author is fearless, almost exhibitionistic, in his self-exposure. Haubner's unnamed mentor in urban zen is a highly unlikely and intriguing figure himself. The humor, including a great deal of scatological anecdotes and analogies (culminating in his witnessing a constipated Joshu Sasaki roshi taking a shit), is effective early in the book but somehow the work does not move on from the realm of personality and emotional release. This may inadvertently project a distorted view of what zen practice is about. Haubner alludes to a deeper understanding, but doesn't give us much more than some words about giving oneself "up," repeated in different chapters. I think I know what he means, but would a reader not experienced in zen training understand?
What makes the aforementioned Matthiessen "zenoir" such a strong book is that the writer actually shows how his perspective widens and his practice deepens over the course of the book. What starts as personal memoir becomes dharma. That's worth emulating, and I suspect Haubner has that book in him. I hope he keeps writing.
The book is very entertaining and the author is fearless, almost exhibitionistic, in his self-exposure. Haubner's unnamed mentor in urban zen is a highly unlikely and intriguing figure himself. The humor, including a great deal of scatological anecdotes and analogies (culminating in his witnessing a constipated Joshu Sasaki roshi taking a shit), is effective early in the book but somehow the work does not move on from the realm of personality and emotional release. This may inadvertently project a distorted view of what zen practice is about. Haubner alludes to a deeper understanding, but doesn't give us much more than some words about giving oneself "up," repeated in different chapters. I think I know what he means, but would a reader not experienced in zen training understand?
What makes the aforementioned Matthiessen "zenoir" such a strong book is that the writer actually shows how his perspective widens and his practice deepens over the course of the book. What starts as personal memoir becomes dharma. That's worth emulating, and I suspect Haubner has that book in him. I hope he keeps writing.
August 3, 2016
Although I'm admittedly working with a small sample size, I'm getting the impression that any book with "confidential" in the title really includes confidential information I don't want to know - rather than information of use to me. In a word: confidences. Of which Haubner offers in abundance. He's the stock character who often appears in travel stories: the guy sitting in the airplane seat next to you who just can't seem to shut up. Hauber was a mess before he found Zen (aimless days described with more of a sense of pride than of shame). And, now that he's found Zen ... he's still pretty much a mess. Except he's gotten more graphic about it. The busy, overwrought tone of the book suggests someone working overtime to be "interesting". Probably the same way he decided to be a monk: to be "interesting". And I think that the overload of scatalogical material in these pages was also added to make the story "interesting" (don't read the first chapter while you're eating). All of these strategies have failed. I don't find Hauber interesting - and his book is a huge bore. It's not about Zen. It's about a neurotic writer - desperate for approval - who has a shaved head, and doesn't have sex. Anyone who is interested in the Zen lifestyle, without all the jibber jabber, will find AN EMPTY MIRROR (Janwillem van de Wetering) to be a much better choice.
August 6, 2016
The book has some very nice and good insights smattered throughout. The ten years have not been without result, including a few nice tales offering a glimpse of the possibilities of sustained practice under a real deal Zen Master.
Overall though I think it is more primarily Zen Noir: making a living off telling tales about Zen Buddhist circles and 'funny characters' as Shozan says he sees it. I wonder if twas approved by those he wrote about, sometimes it felt to me as if it veered on the disrespectful but perhaps that is the author's view. It would be interesting to hear more of the practice side, and less toilet humor, but admittedly taste is taste and perhaps it was slanted for entertainment more than practice biography.
There is another book I found in the same tradition by a Myosen Osho: [[Experiencing God Through Zen Insight]] which has a different flavor.
An entertaining read overall nevertheless (and if you are into toilet humor and mockery) with some good snippets worthy of a 2+ star - but not one I would recommend as a general Buddhist standard. However, horses for courses, and a good attempt by Shozan with some good and genuinely moving parts within. Also appreciate his humility overall.
Overall though I think it is more primarily Zen Noir: making a living off telling tales about Zen Buddhist circles and 'funny characters' as Shozan says he sees it. I wonder if twas approved by those he wrote about, sometimes it felt to me as if it veered on the disrespectful but perhaps that is the author's view. It would be interesting to hear more of the practice side, and less toilet humor, but admittedly taste is taste and perhaps it was slanted for entertainment more than practice biography.
There is another book I found in the same tradition by a Myosen Osho: [[Experiencing God Through Zen Insight]] which has a different flavor.
An entertaining read overall nevertheless (and if you are into toilet humor and mockery) with some good snippets worthy of a 2+ star - but not one I would recommend as a general Buddhist standard. However, horses for courses, and a good attempt by Shozan with some good and genuinely moving parts within. Also appreciate his humility overall.
November 23, 2014
Honest, hilarious, and surprisingly touching. It’s an incredible skill to be able to make light of spirituality and core beliefs without becoming offensive or rudely irreverent. Without proselytizing, and with not even a remote sense of narcissism (rare when it comes to religious memoirs), Haubner delights us with tales of his own 10-years-and-counting experience through the wonder and mystery that is Zen Buddhism.
I always find it refreshing to see the flawed and messy side of people and institutions that seem so spotless and pristine. It’s a breath of fresh air to peek behind the curtain and challenge the stereotyped and sterile conceptions of religion that have so obscured their message and purpose. It all comes back to the human experience, and if there’s one thing that can be said about being human, it’s that life is messy.
This memoir is filled with humorous and enlightening stories that you’d never expect from a Buddhist monk; sex, drugs, unspeakable bodily fluids and functions… you name it and Haubner’s got a story for you.
Part comedy, part spiritual journey, this book is a masterpiece.
I always find it refreshing to see the flawed and messy side of people and institutions that seem so spotless and pristine. It’s a breath of fresh air to peek behind the curtain and challenge the stereotyped and sterile conceptions of religion that have so obscured their message and purpose. It all comes back to the human experience, and if there’s one thing that can be said about being human, it’s that life is messy.
This memoir is filled with humorous and enlightening stories that you’d never expect from a Buddhist monk; sex, drugs, unspeakable bodily fluids and functions… you name it and Haubner’s got a story for you.
Part comedy, part spiritual journey, this book is a masterpiece.
December 6, 2013
Ordained American monk Haubner peels back the layers of mysticism that surround Zen practice with this entertaining look at the daily realities of the monastic life. With more scatalogical references and detail than a Danny Boyle movie, and often packed with what seems like Too Much Information (which you're warned about early) along with relentless puns and alliteration, Haubner does seem at times to be trying too hard to be the Anthony Bourdain of the robed set. That said, a unique and important book about the realities of monastic practice. Thich Nhat Hanh this ain't. With a forward by Leonard Cohen, who studied at the same California monastery.
Read
July 28, 2017Certainly the funniest book about Zen monastic life I've ever even heard of. Who would have thought that a monk was going to launch into penis and fart jokes? And who would have thought that they could be insightful? Well, that's Zen for you. And that's part of the point. You could write a stale book about life in a monastery. But that's been done. And that's not real. Well, not as real as possible. And zen is the art of "get as real as possible".
But the gift of this book is that it is a tremendously honest and vulnerable story of a man's life struggles, and how zen has not quite answered them, but helped him to cope better, anyway. I frankly feel like I know Shozan Jack better than most of my family and friends at this point, his book is such a transparent view of his own life. I'm sure that I would not be able to be so honest on public paper as he is, and I admire him and have learned from it. This is basically a memoir of how a regular kid from Texas ended up being a senior monk at a Zen monastery near LA. And his life is far, far from boring! You can feel him grappling with the big questions of life in intelligent and sincere ways, and though most of us can't fathom becoming a full time monk, we can understand having a difficult family, anger issues, and unresolved romantic relationships that push us in various directions. I really appreciated the fact that he is not pushing any Zen concepts here, though he is indirectly teaching many of them. He is just trying to sort things out for himself - on paper, with incredibly clever language and a gift for humorous self-deprecation.
And while I can't say that I learned much on the spiritual front from this book, I certainly learned about life in general, and that's just even more needed right now. And the fact that I laughed the whole way through - well that's enough right there.
But the gift of this book is that it is a tremendously honest and vulnerable story of a man's life struggles, and how zen has not quite answered them, but helped him to cope better, anyway. I frankly feel like I know Shozan Jack better than most of my family and friends at this point, his book is such a transparent view of his own life. I'm sure that I would not be able to be so honest on public paper as he is, and I admire him and have learned from it. This is basically a memoir of how a regular kid from Texas ended up being a senior monk at a Zen monastery near LA. And his life is far, far from boring! You can feel him grappling with the big questions of life in intelligent and sincere ways, and though most of us can't fathom becoming a full time monk, we can understand having a difficult family, anger issues, and unresolved romantic relationships that push us in various directions. I really appreciated the fact that he is not pushing any Zen concepts here, though he is indirectly teaching many of them. He is just trying to sort things out for himself - on paper, with incredibly clever language and a gift for humorous self-deprecation.
And while I can't say that I learned much on the spiritual front from this book, I certainly learned about life in general, and that's just even more needed right now. And the fact that I laughed the whole way through - well that's enough right there.
November 21, 2017
Completely hilarious! Highly recommended if you are into Buddhism and enjoy humor.
July 6, 2013
An irreverent, witty, and entertaining collection of essays written by an American monk in the process of becoming "fully human." Insights erupt from the most unexpected places--the composing toilets, for example--and these not infrequently "impolite" subjects together with Haubner's informal voice slash any sense of pretension and artifice, which are, after all, anathema to Zen practice. At turns uproarious, cringe-worthy, and poignant. Here are some quotes I won't want to forget:
On the misconception that meditation practice is about escaping from our problems:
"You deal with your [crap] in Zen by sitting with it. By breathing right into it. You don’t try to ignore it with pleasant thoughts or lofty ideas, and you don’t try to bury it with solutions. You deal with it, you work with it, one breath at a time. You hold it right there, in your hara, or breathing center. You don’t try to breathe it out; you don’t try to breathe it in. You keep it suspended in your diaphragm like a burning-hot coin. Your problems won’t change; only you can change. That’s the point."
"Buddhism is not a refuge from life. It is life stripped bare and known most intimately. Zen doesn’t make you a “better person.” It helps you become fully human. My mentor was no model for how to behave perfectly but for how to experience completely. He never told me how to live my life. He just helped me become alive."
On the problem of ego:
"They want to hear that Buddhism is the answer to all of their problems, not a big fat arrow pointing to the source of all of their problems: ego."
"Zen attacks that one last thing you hold dear: your precious self-conception. It unravels any notion of a freestanding, unconditional “I” and shows it to be a lie, a fabrication, a construction. True realization, the old masters tell us, takes bone-crushing effort. We pulverize the very skeleton of ego—upon which the meat and skin and organs of our illusions hang—and we do it through intense, hurtle-yourself-off-the-cliffs-and-into-the-chasm practice."
On learning to quiet the mental chatter:
"You’d never walk into the forest with the radio blasting and expect wild animals to appear by your side. Yet it never occurs to you to unplug the inner jukebox and get quiet inside so that a natural, organic state of mind can reorganize you and your life from within."
Other quotes I loved:
"Zen is like chemotherapy for me. It’s brutal medicine that makes you go bald, but it beats the alternative.”
"During our private meetings, I explained, my teacher shook my hand or hugged me, over and over. It was so basic, but what I learned was how to embrace and how to let go. This is the secret to life, I tried to explain. When to hold on and when to let things pass."
"I thought I wanted his love, but really I wanted his pity. I wanted to quit. But he wouldn’t let me. “A good doctor can cure your illness, but only the greatest doctor can show you you were never sick,” Roshi has said."
"His face was blistered with splats of fresh acne, as if he’d been driving through a bug storm and stuck his head out the window."
"I had made the mistake of thinking of my life as though it were something like a car up on blocks with the gas pedal floored: I’m not going anywhere, I figured, so I can’t be racking up any miles. Then I hit thirty, broke, single, and beginning to bald, and I realized no, the odometer had been going this whole time."
On the misconception that meditation practice is about escaping from our problems:
"You deal with your [crap] in Zen by sitting with it. By breathing right into it. You don’t try to ignore it with pleasant thoughts or lofty ideas, and you don’t try to bury it with solutions. You deal with it, you work with it, one breath at a time. You hold it right there, in your hara, or breathing center. You don’t try to breathe it out; you don’t try to breathe it in. You keep it suspended in your diaphragm like a burning-hot coin. Your problems won’t change; only you can change. That’s the point."
"Buddhism is not a refuge from life. It is life stripped bare and known most intimately. Zen doesn’t make you a “better person.” It helps you become fully human. My mentor was no model for how to behave perfectly but for how to experience completely. He never told me how to live my life. He just helped me become alive."
On the problem of ego:
"They want to hear that Buddhism is the answer to all of their problems, not a big fat arrow pointing to the source of all of their problems: ego."
"Zen attacks that one last thing you hold dear: your precious self-conception. It unravels any notion of a freestanding, unconditional “I” and shows it to be a lie, a fabrication, a construction. True realization, the old masters tell us, takes bone-crushing effort. We pulverize the very skeleton of ego—upon which the meat and skin and organs of our illusions hang—and we do it through intense, hurtle-yourself-off-the-cliffs-and-into-the-chasm practice."
On learning to quiet the mental chatter:
"You’d never walk into the forest with the radio blasting and expect wild animals to appear by your side. Yet it never occurs to you to unplug the inner jukebox and get quiet inside so that a natural, organic state of mind can reorganize you and your life from within."
Other quotes I loved:
"Zen is like chemotherapy for me. It’s brutal medicine that makes you go bald, but it beats the alternative.”
"During our private meetings, I explained, my teacher shook my hand or hugged me, over and over. It was so basic, but what I learned was how to embrace and how to let go. This is the secret to life, I tried to explain. When to hold on and when to let things pass."
"I thought I wanted his love, but really I wanted his pity. I wanted to quit. But he wouldn’t let me. “A good doctor can cure your illness, but only the greatest doctor can show you you were never sick,” Roshi has said."
"His face was blistered with splats of fresh acne, as if he’d been driving through a bug storm and stuck his head out the window."
"I had made the mistake of thinking of my life as though it were something like a car up on blocks with the gas pedal floored: I’m not going anywhere, I figured, so I can’t be racking up any miles. Then I hit thirty, broke, single, and beginning to bald, and I realized no, the odometer had been going this whole time."
Read
June 2, 2015"Zen: strogo povjerljivo (Ispovijest svojeglavog redovnika)"
"Jastvo ne može poništiti jastvo. Samo netko drugi ili nešto drugo vas može upotpuniti. "Supruga te upotpunjuje", rekao je roshi. "Skrbi o onome što te upotpunjuje." Brak je savršena duhovna praksa: naporan je, seksualno frustrira, najbolje uništava iluzije, prepun je mračnih noći duše i besprijkoran je protuotrov zamisli da vaš život pripada vama i samo vama. Da, brak je savršena praksa. I to nije slučajno. Prema roshiju, aktivnost iz koje proizlazi cijeli svemir sastoji se od dviju suprotstavljenih, ali komplementarnih funkcija koje se neprestano sjedinjuju i razdvajaju bezbroj puta u sekundi, pa ih ne opažamo, ili ne postoji "mi" koje bi to opazilo, jer smatramo da dosljedno ljudsko jastvo postoji iz trenutka u trenutak, iako zapravo neprestano nestajemo i ponovno uskrsavamo u svakom trenutku našega života. Neprestano umiremo i ponovno se rađamo u istinskoj ljubavi."
"Jastvo ne može poništiti jastvo. Samo netko drugi ili nešto drugo vas može upotpuniti. "Supruga te upotpunjuje", rekao je roshi. "Skrbi o onome što te upotpunjuje." Brak je savršena duhovna praksa: naporan je, seksualno frustrira, najbolje uništava iluzije, prepun je mračnih noći duše i besprijkoran je protuotrov zamisli da vaš život pripada vama i samo vama. Da, brak je savršena praksa. I to nije slučajno. Prema roshiju, aktivnost iz koje proizlazi cijeli svemir sastoji se od dviju suprotstavljenih, ali komplementarnih funkcija koje se neprestano sjedinjuju i razdvajaju bezbroj puta u sekundi, pa ih ne opažamo, ili ne postoji "mi" koje bi to opazilo, jer smatramo da dosljedno ljudsko jastvo postoji iz trenutka u trenutak, iako zapravo neprestano nestajemo i ponovno uskrsavamo u svakom trenutku našega života. Neprestano umiremo i ponovno se rađamo u istinskoj ljubavi."
February 7, 2014
An interesting look at life for one Zen monk in a well known monastery. The writer is pithy, self deprecatory, and slightly obsessed with the scatological. Most refreshing is how practice is shown as simply being present to life and not some woo-woo otherworld fantasy - this isn't the fuzzy focus image of a Zen Buddhist monk on a mindfulness magazine at Whole Foods; this is the work that takes place over a decade spent practicing. No robotic Stepford ascetic- instead, a guy who likes to drink, sneak cigarettes, and daydream working through a very tough koan: Who am I?
Buddhism isn't self-help - it is a method to see the world as it is. Haubner grows as a person as he sheds the narratives of self.
Buddhism isn't self-help - it is a method to see the world as it is. Haubner grows as a person as he sheds the narratives of self.
December 1, 2017
Just when I thought there could be no one more irreverent on Zen than Brad Warner, I come across this gem (Ironically, I discovered because I read somewhere that Brad enjoyed it) of a book. Haubner goes into a shameless unabashed account of his life before, during, and after being a zen monk, and confesses sins which many would keep embarrassingly locked in the closet. And his sins are broadcasted with self-deprecating, humiliating, sardonic abandon. My one qualm would be that I would've liked to read more about his direct experiences and opinions on the intricacies and rituals of everyday life (even the simplest of activities) in the monastery.
May 2, 2013
I loved this book! I received this book as a giveaway/first reads. I found myself laughing out loud several times at the author's insight and naked honesty and having a real appreciation for someone who loves to paint delightful word pictures. I like the way this man's brain works. The episodes are varied and at times hilarious and sometimes poignant, but always entertaining. This guy knows how to spin a yarn and pull you in. What a great way to learn more about zen Buddhism via the author's journey -- all the agonies and ecstasies he experienced make the book a great read. Loved it!!
January 12, 2024
I first read this book in 2017, and I didn’t like it. I wasn’t ready for its honesty. Haubner’s reading of the book is inspired, bringing real pathos to his experiences as a Rinzai Zen monk. I’m glad I gave it a second chance. This is a wise sound from a cracked and beautiful bell.
April 2, 2013
Uneven collection.
April 27, 2013
Slightly entertaining read. Like another reviewer said, uneven collection.
#Won this from Goodreads Giveaways*
#Won this from Goodreads Giveaways*
July 14, 2013
I didn't find a lot to like about Jack Haubner, but I did find this look into the life of a zen monk quite interesting. The trip to Vegas was a highlight.
January 26, 2023
3.5 stars. Good parts - a memoir about Zen that gives the feeling of " finally, a book on Buddhist practice written by a real, flawed person." It's not an instructional manual by any means; I don't think he even mentioned his sect until the later chapters. He's a detailed story teller that turns every person in his narrative into a character. He loses points from me though on his descriptions of people being a bit too colorful in negative ways and his perceptions on women being too objectified/sexualized in some parts of his narrative, as well as some of his reflections (on defecation and the debate on abortion) being a bit over the top on vulgarity and a little too on the surface in the way he relates the focus in those chapters. I did find myself laughing and finding endearment in his stories on Vegas, his Zen teacher and fellow practitioners, drugs, pancreatitis, and his reflections on his own sexual orientation/his confrontations and comfort with such when being close friends with one of his teachers (a gay man who had feelings for him, to which he refreshingly did not respond with toxic heteronormative masculinity). It was interesting to hear tales from inside a monastery of multiple people converging there that were all flawed, instead of some washed over image of everyone there being immediately on the road to Nirvana just by committing to stay there (that indeed, the vows didn't instantly mean celibacy, sobriety, and consistent calm minded ness over anger, but that it was still a struggle and learning process for the author and others he encountered there.) I was a little surprised none the less that in the end he was promoted to be a monk running his own sangha (and from the sound of it, maybe he was too?)
All in all, worth it to read as a memoir, and definitely advertised right under the label of "wayward monk", but could have been more consistent with the relation of the stories back to Buddhist philosophy and a little more sensitive in certain characterizations and some of the subject matter.
(Note: This says a lot from someone like me, who often swears like a sailor, has two similar manuscripts in the works [in 'flawed lay person Buddhism' category] and has a general medium high tolerance for freedom of expression in art forms that may veer a little towards the crude - though definitely a difference between what you say in a non fiction book platform aiming to bestow wisdom versus theatrical and performative types of art that you expect statements to be made more creatively and boundaries to be pushed in different ways - it was fine in some parts of the book, but just a bit much for the particular form and platform in other parts.)
All in all, worth it to read as a memoir, and definitely advertised right under the label of "wayward monk", but could have been more consistent with the relation of the stories back to Buddhist philosophy and a little more sensitive in certain characterizations and some of the subject matter.
(Note: This says a lot from someone like me, who often swears like a sailor, has two similar manuscripts in the works [in 'flawed lay person Buddhism' category] and has a general medium high tolerance for freedom of expression in art forms that may veer a little towards the crude - though definitely a difference between what you say in a non fiction book platform aiming to bestow wisdom versus theatrical and performative types of art that you expect statements to be made more creatively and boundaries to be pushed in different ways - it was fine in some parts of the book, but just a bit much for the particular form and platform in other parts.)
October 8, 2017
I listened to it as an audiobook, read by the author, and loved it. His own voice adds something to this touching, funny and irreverent tale of one man's struggle to recognise his true nature. It is structured as a series of moral: each one is taken from life and sounds absolutely authentic. It felt like a very personal book. I thought he was talking to me. I especially like the one about 105 year old Roshi in Las Vegas
April 13, 2020
Reading this right now, while we are staying at home to limit our exposure to COVID-19, was a perfect antidote to the elevated level of stress that we're experiencing. I can't recommend this book highly enough. It is frequently laugh-out-loud hilarious, and there is always a deep human connectedness aspect to every tale in the book. Just what the doctor ordered (and my spirit needed) right now.
January 3, 2024
This was okay and a bit refreshing to get an insider look at what a real monastery would be like but I got tired of it after a while when it seemed the author was really just hitting on the ugly or shocking facts that would surprise most people. For a book about living a Zen life it created all the wrong feelings for me.
February 19, 2018
Enjoyed this book but it took me over a year to read from start to finish. But I suppose that’s fine because it’s mostly stand alone essays. Interesting and thoughtful and provide a new lens to view western understand of monks and Buddhism.
Displaying 1 - 30 of 101 reviews