ZEN
For The Rest Of Us

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Article Links:
Zen and the Art of Dying
by Hal W. French

Jesus as Zen Master
by Mike Young

Pain is Inevitable. Suffering is Optional.
(Zen Aphorism)
by Mike Young

The Yin-Yang and Outside Influences
by Don Freda

Resource Links
Books:
A Spiritual Journey
by Raymond M. Smullyan

Rambles Through My Library
by Raymond M. Smullyan

Zen and the Art of Anything, Third Edition
by Hal W. French

A Preacher's Poems
by Mike Young

The Tao is Silent
by Raymond Smullyan

Who Knows: A Study of Religious Consciousness
by Raymond Smullyan

This Book Needs No Title
by Raymond Smullyan

Outside Influences
by Don Freda

Zen and the Art of Happiness
by Chris Prentiss

The Way of Zen
by Alan W. Watts

The Wisdom of Insecurity
by Alan W. Watts

An Introduction to Zen Buddhism
by D. T. Suzuki

Zen Mind, Beginner's Mind
by Shunryu Suzuki

Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance
by Robert M. Pirsig

Zen in the Art of Archery
by Eugen Herrigel and
D. T. Suzuki

Video DVDs:
Rambles, Reflections, Music and Readings
by Raymond Smullyan (free courtesy of the pianosociety.com)

Zen Noir
a film by Marc Rosenbush

Audio CD:
Out of Your Mind
by Alan W. Watts

In my book The Tao is Silent, I characterized Zen as a combination of Chinese Taoism and Indian Buddhism with a touch of pepper and salt  (particularly pepper) thrown in by the Japanese.     

Speaking of the Japanese, I recently heard the following true story: An American tourist in Tokyo was looking for a bank. He came across a building in front of which were standing several Japanese. He asked them if they spoke English, which they did. He then asked them how to get to the bank. They then spoke excitedly among themselves in Japanese, which the tourist did not understand. Along came a friend of the tourist who understood Japanese and explained what they were saying: The tourist was standing in front of the bank the whole time, and the Japanese were trying to find a way of telling him without embarrassing him! How beautifully Japanese!

The Japanese Zen philosopher D. T. Suzuki once gave a lecture at Columbia University and at one point said, “This Zen is not as hard to understand as you Americans think. It's just that in Zen, we call a spade a non-spade.”

Someone once asked Suzuki what enlightenment was like. He replied, “Much like ordinary every day experience, only about a quarter of an inch off the ground.”

I like the story of the Zen Master who was reputed to often say, “Thirty blows if you have something to say. Thirty blows just the same if you have nothing to say.” (Incidentally, there is no evidence that he ever actually gave any of these blows.)

Another favorite Zen incident of mine is about a Zen master who set his hut on fire and said to those outside, “I'm not coming out until someone says the right thing.” Everyone tried to say the right thing, but to no avail. Along came someone to the scene and asked what the fuss was all about. He was excitedly told that the Master wouldn't come out of his burning hut until someone said the right thing! The newcomer said, “Oh my God!,” at which the Master came out. Of course the point of the story is that the Master didn't want anyone to TRY to say the right thing.

I also love the story of a man who was standing on top of a hill. Some people below were wondering why he was standing there. One of them suggested that he was looking for his dog. Another suggested that he was looking for a friend. Another suggested that maybe he was standing there just to enjoy the fresh air. Well, they went up to him and one of them asked him whether he was looking for his dog. He replied that he wasn't. Another asked him whether he was looking for a friend. He replied, “No.” Another said, “Then I guess you are standing there just to enjoy the fresh air.” He replied, “No.” Finally, he was asked, “Then why are you standing there?” He replied, “I'm just standing here.”

I am reminded of a personal incident: When I was in my early twenties, I neither went to school nor had a job, and was generally regarded as pretty much of an idler. (Actually in those days I was composing many chess problems which I many years later published in two volumes.)  Once at a party someone asked me what I was doing these days. I replied, “I'm waiting for the meek to inherit the earth.”

I have been termed “incorrigible.” Quite fitting! Indeed my epitaph will be: 

IN LIFE HE WAS INCORRIGIBLE. IN DEATH HE'S EVEN WORSE!

Speaking of death, I once told a friend, “Why should I worry about dying? It's not going to happen in my lifetime!”

There is a joke about two cows standing in a field. One said to the other, “Aren't you worried about mad cow disease?” The other replied, “Why should I worry? I'm a helicopter!”

Some of you might criticize this article as being too light hearted. I deeply sympathize with you, but being the incorrigible cuss that I am, I refuse to change my rambling style. My friend and former student Professor Melvin Fitting is at times equally light hearted. At one time Melvin was at my house and someone complained of the cold. Melvin said,“Oh, yes. As it says in the Bible, many are cold, but few are frozen.” Another time Melvin, who knows of my interest in the Tao, once said to me, “Did you know that the ancient Chinese sages used to wear sandals? That's why they were called Toe-ists.” I countered by saying, “And the ancient Indian sages used to wear high shoes. That's why they were called Boot-ists.”

Melvin's daughter Miriam  is really a chip off the old block. Once when she was six years old, she and her father were having dinner at my house. Melvin didn't like the way she was eating and said, “That's no way to eat, Miriam!” She replied, “I'm not eating Miriam.” Pretty smart for a six-year old, no?

To continue in my incorrigibly light hearted manner, I must tell you of a Buddhist who came to Hungary in the middle ages and tried to convert everyone to Buddhism. He was very aggressive and made a real pest of himself. He was subsequently known as the Buddha-pest.

I also have a riddle for you: When a book is tired, why should it be taken to Rumania? Answer: To give the book-a-rest.

OK, OK, enough nonsense! However I must tell you that the late computer scientist Saul Gorn said about me, “Those who do not appreciate Raymond's jokes do not know how to take him seriously.”

Now let me tell you of one Zen story that bears a remarkable resemblance to a certain Hasidic Jewish story. The Zen story is about a monk who came up a mountain to interview the Zen Master. The Master asked him whether he came from the North or the South. The monk replied, “From the North.” The Master then said, “In that case, have a cup of tea.” The next day another monk came up the mountain. The master asked him whether he came from the North or the South. He said that he came from the South. The master said, “In that case, have a cup of tea.” Later the master's student said to him, “Master, I don't understand! To the one from the North and the one from the South you said the same thing—have a cup of tea. Why?” The Master replied, “Have a cup of tea.”

That is the Zen story. In the Jewish story, two women were arguing about the ownership of a chicken. Each one insisted that the chicken was hers. They decided to take the case to a rabbi, who heard their cases separately. After hearing the first, he said, “I agree with you, Mrs. Goldberg, you are absolutely right!” After hearing the second, he said, “I agree with you Mrs. Cohen, you are absolutely right!” Later his  wife said to him, “Now look, they can't both be right! If Mrs. Goldberg is right then Mrs. Cohen is wrong, and if Mrs. Cohen is right, then Mrs. Goldberg is wrong. They can't both be right!” He replied, “I agree with you, Dear. You are absolutely right!”

Of course I am very fond of Haiku poems. The following four strike me as particularly Zen-like:

Even before the emperor,
the scarecrow does not doff his hat.

Admirable is he, who when seeing lightning,
Does not say- “Life goes by like a flash.”

Quite apart from our religion,
There are plum blossoms, there are cherry blossoms.

My house burned down.
The nearby cherry tree blooms as if nothing had happened!

The last one reminds me of the occasion when someone asked Thoreau whether he was lonely living near Walden Pond. He replied, “Why should I feel lonely? Does Walden Pond feel lonely?”

I recently came across a passage of Kierkegaard (of all people!) that struck me as remarkably Zen-like: A man saw a sign in the window of a shop:

PANTS PRESSED HERE

He took in his pants to be pressed, but it turned out that the shop did not press pants. It was the sign that was for sale!  (This is not only Zen-like, it is also reminiscent of Wittgenstein.)

Let me conclude by telling you that when I first came to Zen, it took me awhile to realize that it was the Taoistic elements more than the Buddhistic elements that appealed to me. As I said in my book The Tao is Silent, to me Taoism means a state of serenity combined with an intense aesthetic awareness. Just savor the following poems of Wang Wei!

On the far shore I see families moving,
To distant to be recognized.

Through the deep wood, the slanting sunlight
Casts motley patterns on the moss.
No glimpse of man in this lonely mountain.
Yet faint voices drift on the air.

In the evening years of my life, given over to quietude,
No longer a slave to the world's affairs.
My future? I have no better plan than to
retreat to my old forest.
There the pine wind will play about my girdle.
And the moon will smile at me as I play the lute.
You ask what laws govern failure and success!
Just listen to the fisherman's song drifting up from the deep river estuary.

About the author:

Raymond Smullyan retired from Indiana University as a distinguished professor of philosophy. He is an internationally renowned author of over twenty books, including A Spiritual Journey, Rambles Through My Library, The Tao is Silent, Who Knows: A Study of Religious Consciousness, and This Book Needs No Title. More biographical information can be found here.