Ryokan (Japanese Zen monk and recluse, 1758-1831) -
For an introduction to Ryokan, see Aug 24, 2024, "Drifting Cloud."
It's a pity, a gentleman in refined retirement composing poetry: He models his work on the classic verse of China, And his poems are elegant, full of fine phrases. But if you don't write of things deep inside your own heart, What's the use of churning out so many words?
*John Stevens, Trans.; Ryokan. Dewdrops on a Lotus Leaf: Zen Poems of Ryokan.
* * *
The elegance of how we live? What is that "elegance"? The refinement Ryokan writes of can apply to morality. I could be an ethical shining star, a resolute guardian and keeper of does and do nots. Or, as to citizenship, "He's a model citizen," they could say. In religion, I could be a skilled teacher of the tradition, pray frequently, and attend worship meetings regularly. Others could aspire to be holy like me. I could be a parent, spouse, friend, politician, volunteer, or philanthropist people say is an example for others.
How about spirituality? I could practice meditation, yoga, chanting, attend retreats, follow an esteemed teacher, and do all that so well that others would marvel at my devotion and be inspired to follow my example or maybe conclude, "My gosh! I'll never be able to be like that man."
Elegance, excellence, skillfulness, and correctness can be just churning out of fetching words and catchy phrases. No matter how much makeup one puts on a corpse, it is still a corpse.
* * *
Therese DesCamp, in Hands like Roots, writes of this being cut off from depth as "mechanical being." Without depth, we become robotic. We may function well, but we are still living like programmed computers. We may think we are free and be entirely unaware of how mindlessly entangled we are in larger social narratives, living out scripts programmed into us in many convoluted ways.
All this while, what we most need is offering itself from our heart. I am writing now from a laptop computer, yet this computer cannot love me, it cannot feel joy or peace or awe with me, and it cannot breathe with me. Instead, our heart offers us what it has to give and receive from others, seeking those with whom we can connect on a profound level.
Depth looks for depth. Depth discerns depth. Depth enjoys depth. All this, and more, for the innermost self seeks to meet itself in the self of the other. This true self is like a GPS, navigating the self-system toward receivers-and-givers of love. The mind alone cannot find this destination, but the heart-of-hearts can and does.
* * *
Ryokan speaks of writing from things deep in the heart. What does he imply? How does it apply to everyday life? How do we live from that which lives deeply in the heart? What is this heart? How do we yield to that unspeakable something, welcoming it to come forth? Could it be that we remain truly alive, rather than one among the living dead, by a yes to that deep within us? Last, what is it that you engage in that resonates with and inspires you to live what is deep within your heart?
* * *
To live in contact with that deep within the heart, we need to practice living intimately with it. A spatial metaphor for this is vertical; some, as I usually do, use a depth metaphor, such as living deeply. Speaking of this as up or down, either is okay, as long as we do not view the strictly spiritual as separating ourselves from and devaluing the horizontal dimension of our lives, which pertains to matter, including its thoughts, emotions, and feelings. The horizontal includes the mind-body, encompassing all that it needs, including things like a home, a job, friends, learning, a healthy diet, exercise, sex, and pleasure, among others. To live from the vertical, or depth, dimension includes the horizontal, enriching it, imbuing it with life, purpose, and delight.
Most of us live in cultures that pay little attention to what lies below the surfaces, and many do not even believe such exists. Even love, joy, peace, and sense of awe or appreciation for beauty is reduced to chemical compounds. So, what we are left with when forsaking depth is simply surfaces spread out and stacked on surfaces on top of surfaces. And no matter how much you collect of surfaces, you have only surfaces.
Many in rejecting religion have no center, no depth, no verticality... no connect with the heart depths. The old myths, which provided archetypal systems for connecting with the heart, have not been replaced with similar systems. Rather than inspiring devotion to depth, modernism became a breeding ground for consumers of superficiality.
When the culture appears to give notice of something of depth, it is often treated as a domain of psychology, reduced to horizontal. The new priests are counselors, therapists, psychologists, and psychiatrists. Persons who think confessing to a priest is nonsense will spill their guts to a counselor. People who reject religious teachings as irrational gobble up whatever "science" theorizes to be true. Whatever the failures and successes of religion, we cannot thrive without a mythology that arises from and calls us to depth: the deep within our hearts.
The social healing we need is grounded on so much more than better politics and education or more advanced technologies. Revitalizing the old Western religions will not work either - we are way past that time. Yet, what we need has never left us. Possibly, remembering is what is most needed. We remember by listening to that within us, trying to realign us with wisdom and one another.
* * *
What happens when we get tired of eating menus? When we realize no matter how much we consume and collect, we are still unsatisfied, discontent, and fatigued with chasing the next thing to get our hands on? We begin to wake up. We realize no amount of collection on the horizontal can bring contentment.
Hence, to live from the deepest within our hearts, we need to learn how to connect with our inner selves - spirit, if you will. We need to engage in a lifestyle, alone and with others, from which we live from the heart. In some sense, most of this is about learning to let that deep within the heart manifest itself... - It is already here!
* * *
The Sun does not try to shine; the Sun shines. The Sun is the shining; the shining is the Sun. All of the inner self shines naturally. Returning to the heart is not to cultivate anything; it is to reunite, so allowing the Light to emanate love, joy, and peace. As Jesus speaks in the Gospels, "Let your light ... shine... ." The light is present. We do not need to go looking for it. In returning to the heart, we see we are light, and so is everyone else - only some do not know it. Returning to the heart, we see the surfaces anew; we see they are here for mutual enjoyment and the sharing and celebrating of love. Love uses matter-and-mind to take shape in specifics of togetherness; spirit garbs itself in matter to manifest its self-created and creative tangibilities. We enjoy them more, for we enjoy them from the heart. We enjoy them more, for we share them, bringing us closer to others in a spirit of delight, gratitude, and thanksgiving.
