mujushinkyo wrote:I do Zen every day and can drop anything -- all thoughts, not to mention obsessions...
So why don't you ?
No, seriously. If you can
drop this whole mess, why don't you just let go of it?
Personally speaking, I let go of it quite a long time ago.
But there are certain situations that karma or fate throws in one's lap that have to be dealt with in some way, an active and not evasive or passive way.
This cult isn't going to stop with me -- they're going to pursue and harm others. And they're all harming themselves.
So my letter to Gyatrul Rinpoche is my attempt to repay a karmic debt and to live up to my obligation, which in this case is to do everything I can (as a writer) to publicize the situation and get it resolved. One word from Gyatrul could resolve it all.
(My blog posts about it fall into the same category.)
If I've sometimes fallen into the trap of taking a bit too much pleasure in smart retorts and sometimes ridiculing them to excess, which I maybe have, then I am grateful to you for helping make me aware of it. I will do my best to tone that shit down in the future!
By the way, on the issue of what one might call "Zen Masters Behaving Badly, inspired by your comments I looked online for this text I dimly remembered reading. It's by Hakuin Zenji, who definitely had satori. One might easily be surprised by the harshness of his language he uses to criticize and even brutally attack and mock other Zen teachers (men he no doubt knew personally). Here's the quote, from a text translated as "The Importance of Kensho":
At present, we are infested in this country with a race of smooth-tongued, worldly-wise Zen teachers who feed their students a ration of utter nonsense. "Why do you suppose Buddha-patriarchs through the ages were so mortally afraid of words and letters?" they ask you. "It is," they answer, "because words and letters are a coast of rocky cliffs washed constantly by vast oceans of poison ready to swallow your wisdom and drown the life from it. Giving students stories and episodes from the Zen past and having them penetrate their meaning is a practice that did not start until after the Zen school had already branched out into the Five Houses, and they were developing into the Seven Schools. Koan study represents a provisional teaching aid which teachers have devised to bring students up to the threshold of the house of Zen so as to enable them to enter the dwelling itself. It has nothing directly to do with the profound meaning of the Buddha-patriarchs' inner chambers."
An incorrigible pack of skinheaded mules has ridden this teaching into a position of dominance in the world of Zen. You cannot distinguish master from disciple, jades from common stones. They gather and sit - rows of sleepy inanimate lumps. They hug themselves, self-satisfied, imagining they are the paragons of the Zen tradition. They belittle the Buddha- patriarchs of the past. While celestial phoenixes linger in the shadows, starving away, this hateful flock of owls and crows rule the roost, sleeping and stuffing their bellies to their hearts' content.
If you don't have the eye of kensho, it is impossible for you to use a single drop of the Buddha's wisdom. These men are heading straight for the realms of hell. That is why I say: if upon becoming a Buddhist monk you do not penetrate the Buddha's truth, you should turn in your black robe, give back all the donations you have received, and revert to being a layman.
Don't you realize that every syllable contained in the Buddhist canon - all five thousand and forty-eight scrolls of scripture - is a rocky cliff jutting into deadly, poison-filled seas? Don't you know that each of the twenty-eight Buddhas and six Buddhist saints is a body of virulent poison? It rises up in monstrous waves that blacken the skies, swallow the radiance of the sun and moon, and extinguishes the light of the stars and planets.
It is there as clear and stark as could be. It is staring you right in the face. But none of you is awake to see it. You are like owls that venture out into the light of day, their eyes wide open, yet they couldn't even see a mountain were it towering in front of them. The mountain doesn't have a grudge against owls that makes it want to hide. The fault is with the owls alone.
You might cover your ears with your hands. You might put a blindfold over your eyes. Try anything you can think of to avoid these poisonous fumes. But you can't escape the clouds sailing in the sky, the streams tumbling down the hillsides. You can't evade the falling autumn leaves scattering spring flowers.
You might wish to enlist the aid of the fleetest winged demon you can find. If you plied him with the best of food and drink and crossed his paw with gold, you might get him to take you on his back for a couple of circumnavigations of the earth. But you would still not find so much as a thimbleful of ground where you could hide.
Ha ha! Imagine what a cutting-and-pasting troll from another Buddhist school could do with this! "Hakuin says anybody who doesn't agree with his Zen is going straight to hell! He calls them skinheaded mules and a hateful flock of owls and crows! He threatens them by saying there's no place they can hide from him!" &c
I'm no Hakuin Zenji, but I really didn't say anything harsher to the cultists than this. Ikkyu had a lot of this bile in him too. Zen really seems to attract rough speakers.