En este profundo libro, escrito con claridad y sencillez, el maestro de zen Jakusho Kwong nos enseña cómo podemos apreciar el valor de nuestras actividades cotidianas mediante la comprensión de las sencillas prácticas e ideas budistas. Las poéticas al tiempo que pragmáticas enseñanzas del autor nos transportan hasta el mismo corazón del zen y sus significativas tradiciones. Como el roshí Kwong es capaz de transmitir la esencia más íntima de la manera más accesible, con él aprendemos a activar nuestra propia vitalidad, sabiduría y compasión, y tenemos la sensación de relacionarnos íntimamente con el mundo, de mantener una conversación con nuestro yo más sabio y profundo. En Sin principio ni fin, el autor combina ejemplos de su peculiar estilo caligráfico con historias de la tradición zen poco conocidas, anécdotas personales e inspiradoras enseñanzas, con el fin de que todos los lectores participen en esta íntima expresión del iluminador mundo del zen.
I like what I think of as the original teachers, the people who were prominent where I first began practicing Buddhism in 1991. My all-time favorite is Shunryu Suzuki, whose Zen Mind, Beginner’s Mind was the first Zen book I ever read. Kosho Uchiyama, whose books were around then, and who was still alive at the time, was also a great favorite, especially Opening the Hand of Thought and How to Cook Your Life, which was then titled, and is now subtitled, From the Zen Kitchen to Enlightenment. I read and reread the two great books of Joko Beck, Everyday Zen and Nothing Special. When I strayed from Zen I read the books of Suzuki Roshi’s great friend Chogyam Trungpa, Cutting Through Spiritual Materialism and Shambhala: The Sacred Path of the Warrior.
If I had never read any other books, I think those would be enough, and I’ve read them all multiple times. I’ve never been drawn to the work of Suzuki Roshi’s dharma heirs, Richard Baker and Reb Anderson because of various things I’ve heard about them. I’ve read Pema Chodron, who has become the Joko Beck of her day (the woman Dharma teacher whom everyone reads), and she is very good; she has absorbed the teachings of Trungpa and made them her own, but somehow—though her work is more ordered and settled than Trungpa’s—I prefer the original fire of his, though I don’t always understand it.
I would certainly read any book by Sojun Mel Weitsman, whom I consider to be the true heir of Suzuki Roshi, but so far he has not written one, except for a small memoir that was locally published. I’ve heard him talk on many occasions; I’ve read his dharma talks wherever I could find them, and I’ve read back through the newsletters of the Berkeley Zen Center, looking for his old talks, or even snippets of his teachings. I believe one of his students could create a great book out of his teachings. I’m not sure why no one has.
The closest thing to such a book that I can imagine is this book by Jakusho Kwong, who is slightly younger than Weitsman and was Suzuki Roshi’s student for roughly the same period of time. Diane Di Prima said something to the effect that she began studying Zen because she met Suzuki Roshi and was so impressed with him as a person; if he’d been a bricklayer, she’d have taken up bricklaying. Kwong seems to have been struck in the same way.
“I hardly missed one day in eleven years, sitting every morning. When I met Suzuki-roshi, it was the first time I encountered someone’s complete presence, someone I felt I could trust completely. Because I trusted this person, I could also give to this person.” [57]
The teachers in this tradition are characterized by modesty, and genuineness, and simplicity. They are not charismatic people, as Trungpa seems to have been, and are not given to grand gestures, as he often was. (In that way it seems surprising that he and Suzuki Roshi were so close, but they seem to have found some common ground deep within each other. They were close almost immediately.) Weitsman describes such a person beautifully in talk entitled “The Heart Sutra and the Mantra of Our Life.”[1]
“I used to think of Suzuki Roshi’s life as a mantra. . . . His life had a very obvious form. Every day at the old Sokoji Temple at Bush Street (in San Francisco), I would see him enter the zendo from his office and light the incense, sit zazen and do service. Every day he did the same thing, which was amazing to me. I had never seen anyone do that kind of activity before. His life was devoted to sitting zazen, bowing, lighting incense, and the various other things that he did.
“When there were so many other things to do in the world, here was this person simply doing these things over and over again every day. And he had been doing them over and over every day for most of his life. I never thought of myself doing anything like that in what seemed like such a narrowly disciplined way of life. So I was impressed by it. . . . He was always concentrated and went about his activity in a light and easy manner. Somehow, it was not just repetitive. It was a dynamic that was always producing light. One way to produce energy is to have something going around in a circular path. If you hook up a conductor to that energy producer, the energy flows from it as a dynamo. That’s why he had so much spiritual power.”
This absolute devotion to zazen is the other thing that characterizes the teachers and students of this school, Suzuki-roshi entering the zendo every day, Jakusho Kwong going to the San Francisco Zen Center every day for eleven years and later setting up his own center, Mel Weitsman sitting in Berkeley every day even when no one else came. Zazen is the anchor to their lives, as Kwong says:
“After a very long while, supported by your vow not to give up, sitting will become one of the most intimate parts of your life. The river really does long to return to the ocean, and so just like Bodhidharma we face the wall and allow the light to turn inward toward our mind source.” [75]
It sounds like a life of renunciation, but Kwong knew that not to be true. “Renunciation does not mean turning our back on the world. It means turning our back on the conditions that cause suffering—greed, anger, and ignorance—and rediscovering our natural confidence through seated meditation. . . . It’s the gentlest and kindest way to live in this difficult world.” [46]
It is not a way of stepping out of life. It takes you into life. “Probably the things you fear most will happen. What is it for you? For most people it is death. But if you fear death, you fear life, being engaged in life. I was a slow learner. Even with Zen practice, it took me fifty, sixty years to begin, to not be preoccupied, not self-concerned, not dreaming, not spaced out, but to be engaged in life.” [107]
And it leads to a much larger life. “I want people to experience this greatness, this vastness, what may be called this mysterious universe that, without doubt, is within each one of us. It’s pretty hard to describe, but when we use a phrase like ‘cultivate your own spirit,’ the word spirit includes the whole universe, and this is what I want to share, with the hope that people may experience it for themselves.” [32]
A used copy of this book sat on the shelves at our Zen Center for months or even years before I finally bought it, but I was glad I did. Kwong’s student Peter Levitt edited the book, and they whittled it down from an original 1600 pages of dharma talks. That massive labor was worth it; they produced a true gem, worthy to sit on the shelf with the best of the Zen books.
Reading books about Zen can be a very frustrating experience. Expressions like “everything is nothing” and “the river no longer yearns to return to the ocean, the river is ocean” or “time and being are identical - exactly the same.” You have to just pass over it, nod, and move on.
It makes sense to me, however, when the author writes, “We practice this by simply investigating what is behind everything…as you continue this investigation, you will find that there is nothing behind ‘behind.” “This is the “nothing” that can recognize things as it is.”
The goal of Zen, if there is one, is to see the world as it is. The practice is to give the mind the opportunity, through Zazen, to directly perceive the errors that our minds project in front of and on to everything that we experience.
Jakusho Kwong had the unique opportunity to live and study with one of the founders of Zen in the United States, Shunryu Suzuki-roshi, author of “Zen Mind, Beginner’s Mind” and many lectures and other books. The stories of the great master are personal and revealing, and worth the price to read this book.
In the end, of course, it is about Zen, and writing about Zen can only take the reader just so far. The practice of Zen, sitting in the zazen posture contemplating and investigating what is “behind” the world we perceive is necessary to really understand what it is all about.
This book is beautifully illustrated with the author’s own calligraphy. In both his teaching and drawing, Kwong has a unique style which lends itself to an enriched understanding of Zen.
For me the title of the book, The Intimate Heart of Zen is a bit misleading. The writing is a little didactic and teacherly in a way that does not allow for intimacy. And perhaps that is expressing a failing, on my part, because I anticipate, rightly or wrongly, that intimacy is from the heart to heart between people. And perhaps this heart gap arises in part because many of these essays were teacherly presentations made many years before being published here.
Kwong's writing shares hints of an expression of intimacy with the ways that his experience of Buddhism is a practice to create intimacy with the practice of Buddhism, more than with other people. And somehow I didn't quite feel it, the feeling of the writing creating intimacy between me, the reader, and him, the writer. That is, of course, a very high standard on my part.
The stories and anecdotes are strong, and I learned some interesting and new or different aspects and/or perpectives about this particular Buddhism. I will be happy to refer back to this book on occasion. And, having once having dedicated myself to calligraphy, I loved Kwong's calligraphy and was happy that he and the publishing included it.
A good read, with good anecdotes, good information, good Buddhist lessons and solidly written. Yet not quite intimate in my understanding of 'intimate.'
Having been a student of Kwong Roshi this is not entirely an unbiased review. It is very relatable to me because reading his words take me back to my times at Sonoma Mountain Zen Center. But this is also a book that I found more meaningful on a second reading twenty years after I first received and read the book. The teachings are plainly spoken, as plain as zen teachings can be, and the deep mysteries and beauties are there as well. There is never an end, never a final goal to be achieved, and enlightenment is to be found in your everyday activity, your zazen, your work, your love, everything that you bring your attention to. Kwong Roshi expresses the dharma in the way that he lives it and realizes it day to day.
There wasn't anything actually wrong with this book, but it wasn't what I wanted. I feel like I gained a good understanding of how Zen is important to the author and a few things that encompass what Zen is, but I also don't feel like I really learned as much about the philosophy as I would have liked. And to a certain degree, that's sort of the point: not knowing is a big part of knowing in Zen. But still, I feel like the subject drifted from story to story a little more than I would have liked.
If someone is looking for a more personal account of Zen this would be a great read, though.
This is the second book I have read about Soto Zen as practiced in the United States. It is by the current priest, Kwong who purchased Sonoma Mountain near Santa Rosa CA, and created an 83-acre zen center in 1973. The book, is comprised of 30 short sermons. After reading this book, there seems to be no way to really understand the religion based on sitting and meditation. Everything is "as it is." Perhaps I would feel differently after I had practiced zazen (sitting) with no mind for a few years. An experiment I would have trouble making a habit (so much sitting).
I feel like books like this or more often than not quite subjective to the reader - even to the time and place of where the reader is at can make a book extremely enlightening to one person and a boring slog to another.
This book, for me, for where I was at when I read it, wasn’t particularly interesting. It had a nice cover and a nice title, and that's really the only reason I decided to read it. Maybe I should have just sat with the cover and not the contents?
It is challenging to find balance and inner peace in our hurried world. The author Jakusho Kwong has created a practical road map to help readers achieve equilibrium. The stories within these pages help one to visualize how to (1) understand Zen principles, & (2) how Zen principles appear in practice. This work is very enlightening, and too, demands continual reads to develop deep understanding of the material presented.
this was a GREAT book. for anyone interested in learning more about zen buddhism, this book is poetic, clear, and very easy to read. it reads more like a personal spiritual experience than an academic book, but after reading it i feel there really is no other way to "explain" a spiritual path.
I got this book from Kwong-roshi himself!! for performing taiko at the Sonoma Mountain Center (signed and all!)
finally got around to reading it, and I liked the prose and voice a lot. even though it was confusing at times and the examples went around in circles a lot (which I guess is the point?) it was still an interesting read and helped me understand more about zen and Buddhism
Like most books I've read about Zen, there is much I appreciate and understand. There is also much I don't understand and makes my brain hurt. It was a challenging read for me, but worthwhile.
Absolutely superb, and so rare to read a contemporary teacher this clear. I tell people this is the best book I read all year, but you know that I'm partial, and so you can see for yourself.