Myoki Raizelah shares 12th century Chinese Buddhist nun and abbess Miaozhong's teachings on silence. In the book Zen Echoes, Beata Grant partially translates the first Dharma talk Miaozhong delivered after her installation as abbess of Zeshou Nunnery.
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Miaozong on Silence
12th century Chinese Buddhist nun and abyss.
There is a story about her in Hidden Lamp called “Maiozong’s Interview.”
Although many of her writings and teachings were lost, there is a collection here in Zen Echos of her verse commentaries on some of the traditional Chinese Zen koans. Also in this book, Beata Grant (author) partially translates the first Dharma talk MIaozong delivered after her installation as abyss of the Zeshou Nunnery.
I want to talk tonight about the sentences that popped out at me from this particular talk.
Also, I have noted in a theme in some of her verse commentaries here that echo some of these same points I’m highlighting from her Dharma talk.
Maiozong:
“Once the essential teaching of Chan (Zen) is transmitted then that of the Buddhisht cannon (all the Buddhist teachings) is completely finished…”
“The best of the lot, however, will understand without being told.”
What she is saying is that this teaching is something you can only comprehend through your experience. You can’t get it with words or intellectual studies. The Buddhist teachings are like “fingers pointing at the moon.”
“Even methods powerful enough to shift the place of stars and constellations… - even these are no more than the show of empty fists.”
I think she is saying that words, methods, techniques for understanding are of little use.
“Sages do not transmit anything, and students toil over forms like monkeys grasping at their own reflections.”
“Sages do not transmit anything” You have to find it in yourself.
“and students toil over forms like monkeys grasping at their own reflections.” I love this because I so relate to it.
How many of you, like me, have toiled over these silly forms? Am I “getting it right?” What happens if I get it wrong - make a mistake in front of everyone? And How do I do this? And then when you find yourself in a position, like Susho or Ino, in which you get to teach the forms. When I was Susho and Ino, I entered a whole nother layer of this toiling. What if I don’t know how to answer your question? What if I tell you the wrong way to do it? And, in fact, I have misinstructed students. More toiling in my mind.
Getting back to Maiozong…
“Sages do not transmit anything”
It is through the toiling that you learn for yourself.
What I hear in Miaozong’s dharma talk, and over and over again in her verse commentaries, the uselessness of words in conveying the dharma. Don’t rely on this talk - don’t even rely on Maizong’s talk. Or Chris’ instruction. Or Tim’s Dharma class. She encourages us not to rely on the verbal teachings. The truth is found in silence - and can’t be uttered. For as soon as we name it, we conceptualize it - and that in itself is a transgression from non-dual reality to duality. As soon as we refer to “it,” we have a subject and an object. We have separated from it. Listen to my language: “separated from it.” There is “me,” (a separate self) and there is “it” over there.
And look at the practice that has been handed to us by our ancestors. Silent meditation practice. Sesshin practice - also an immersion in silence. Have you noticed what happens when you reside among your dharma brothers and sisters in silence? The particular flavor of connection and intimacy that can only be experienced in silence. You know what I’m talking about? (Maybe talk about my experience with Everyday Zen - how close I feel to that sangha only through silence.)
And then what happens when you emerge from a one-day sitting or sesshin and begin to talk to people again? There is an immense pull to assume your identity with a separate self? You resume your usual mode of relating “I” to “other.”
Something that strikes me is that Maiozong is a contemporary of Dogen, both lived in the 12th century. Dogen resided primarily in Japan; while Maiozong resided in China. But I keep hearing Maiozong in Dogen and Dogen in Maioazong.
Dogen tells us practice and enlightenment (I prefer the word awakening) are the same thing. Practice is awakening. In Fukanzazengi, Dogen writes:
“You should therefore cease from practice based on intellectual understanding, pursuing words and following after speech, and learn the backward step that turns your light inwardly to illuminate yourself.”
Read it again:
“You should therefore cease from practice based on intellectual understanding.” You’re not going to get it (whatever “it” is) up her (point to head). In the body. Buddha touched the Earth. Ground yourself. “Zazen body.”
“You should therefore cease…pursuing words and following after speech.” I think it’s an interesting choice of words he used to make his point. “Pursuing” and “following” both imply duality: pursuing words and following speech imply that “it” (whatever “it” is) is out there - something we go after out there.
But no. “Learn the backward step that turns your light inwardly to illuminate yourself.” Come back to yourself. Right here. Just this. Settle here. Notice your experience. Zazen body is the illuminated self.
In the Genjo Koan, Dogen also tells us to “study the self to forget the self.” Again, study the self, like the backward step, everything you seek is right here (pointing inward). But he reminds us not to get attached. Don’t hold on. Study the self to forget the self. Let it go. As soon as you hold on, you are separating - you are holding on to something. Letting go invites an openness, a spaciousness, a boundlessness - which I think of as boundarylessness. Without boundaries. The separate self is bounded. True nature, Buddha Nature, is unbounded.
So, Zazen is like a practice ground for the rest of life. We exercise those muscles of awareness when we are on the cushion. We practice turning the light inward. We watch the patterns of our mind, our reactions, preferences (likes or dislikes). And then the real challenge comes: bringing that practice off the cushion and into our home life, our work life, our sangha life and so forth. Here, like we do on the cushion, the practice is the same (but maybe a little harder): turn the light inward, study the self to forget the self.
Getting back to Maiozong:
“Once the essential teaching of Chan (Zen) is transmitted then that of the Buddhisht cannon (all the Buddhist teachings) is completely finished…”
“The best of the lot, however, will understand without being told.”
“Sages do not transmit anything”
Back to wordlessness. I could just end this talk here and we could sit together in silence. Because that is what she is telling us - the Dharma is transmitted in silence. And I see that message echod time and time again in her verse commentaries. Here are a few examples:
P.37 In response to The World Honored One Ascends his Seat - Buddha says nothing.
“The true teaching has been transmitted in its entirety.”
Transmitted in action, not in words. He came down from his seat.
P.87-88 The Real Buddha sits Within
“Gold Buddha, wood Buddha, mud Buddha:
Once understood, they can be tossed beyond Jambudvipa (in Buddhist cosmology, this the continent inhabited by human beings)
To go on and talk about the real Buddha within
Does nothing but show you’re already muddleheaded”
P.102 Linji’s Shout
“Bellowing and shouting; railing away
With the energy of ten thousand men,
Discuss the Buddhadharma,
And you will still miss your move”
Let’s be quiet together for a moment. Listen to the silence. What do you hear when I stop speaking? What do you hear in the silence?
There is an old saying “Silence speaks louder than words.”
There are actually a lot of sounds when you listen to the silence. What we call “silence” is actually a relative silence.
In Zen, we practice relative silence by withholding speech. This is a practice of external silence - when we withdraw from verbal interactions in 1-day sittings or sesshins. There’s a good reason for this practice. As I mentioned, it reduces our engagement with the conditioned self. It gives us a break from our conditioned way of relating to others, our habit patterns in activity and speech. It gives a chance to take some space from who I think I need to be in relation to another.
But our practice is not just external, but also an internal practice of silence - in Zazen. I’m referring here to those moments when our mind quiets, and we find ourselves sitting in open awareness. Maybe thoughts arise - and maybe they pass like the clouds. Maybe. And you just meet the moment - and whatever that moment holds for you. This is Shikantaza. This is Dogen’s “dropping body and mind.” Letting our preconceived notions of self or other drop away.
What happens when your mind grows quiet?
I can hear, I can see, I perceive more clearly.
A curiosity emerges for me. What now?
A not-knowing.
A spaciousness to be.
An acceptance of what emerges.
Compassion, love.
Silence is a doorway to know the unknowable. The unspeakable.
I can sense the mystery of this life.
Silence invites an awe - as it allows a subtle awareness of the vast ocean of being of which we are all apart.
Rev. Allard Kieres of Shasta Abbey:
“Silence helps us listen to heart - because the heart speaks very quietly.”
“In the place of silence, we get to know ourselves.”
When I was at Green Gulch for the January Intensive in 2018, I asked Reb Andersen about how to bring my practice into management (I was managing a staff of 44 MTs at a large spa at that time). I felt challenged it that capacity. His reply:
Take refuge in silence.
Receive the silence.
Listen to the silence.
Transmit the silence.
His words touched me then - and they still do. When I got home from the January intensive, I put his words a little cards and placed them in key place where I would see them continuously (one in my car, on my desk at work, on my altar at home, and so forth.) When Tim came to live with me in CA in 2020, the cards were still dispersed throughout my space. He asked, “What do these mean to you?” Good question. What does it mean to you?
Zen training is often difficult. When we sit, we meet our pain. And then we are tempted to seek refuge in the noise - in distractions. In fact, we live in a culture that encourages noise and distraction: our various devices and screens, our obsession with productivity and accomplishment, our substances, our perceived needs, our preoccupation with getting those needs met, our grasping, our preferences (yes to this and no to that) - it all creates a lot of noise - and distracts us from our pain.
I don’t know about you, but I need reminders. I need cards placed strategically around my house to remind me. I need practice. I need sangha. We are swimming upstream together. We support each other in wordlessness; we support each other in silence.
Monologue (5 min each with 5 min for discussion):
What is my relationship to silence?
Do I seek out the silence? Avoid silence?
When do seek refuge in silence? When do I seek refuge in the noise?
