Buddhism: Form matters, or does it?

This is another quotation from the 13th-century Japanese text, Essays in Idleness, which I’ve quoted quite a bit in recent months during “Idleness Week“, but I felt this was a very worthwhile one to share:

[157] If we pick up a brush, we feel like writing; if we hold a musical instrument in our hands, we wish to play music. Lifting a wine cup makes us crave saké; taking up dice, we should like to play backgammon. The mind invariably reacts in this way to any stimulus. That is why we should not indulge even casually in improper amusements…Though our hearts may not be in the least impelled by faith, if we sit before the Buddha, rosary in hand, and take up a sutra [to recite], we may (even in our indolence) be accumulating merit through the act itself; though our mind may be inattentive, if we sit in meditation on a rope seat, we may enter a state of calm and concentration, without even being aware of it.

Phenomenon and essence are fundamentally one. If the outward form is not at variance with the truth, an inward realization is certain to develop. We should not deny that this is true of faith; we should respect and honor a conformity to truth. (translation by Prof. Donald Keene)

When I read this, I was reminded of many things. First, I was reminded of a contemporary book on Soto Zen, which talked about the importance of Zen posture and entrusting everything to it. For Pure Land Buddhists, we also entrust ourselves to the nembutsu, even when we really don’t feel like reciting it.

Sometimes it’s better to do a half-ass effort¹ than no effort at all.

I don’t mean to be flippant of course, but my perennial issue is my waning dedication to a given Buddhist practice, and often this is due to a kind of self-doubt that often arises sooner later. I think that because I have doubt, or get bored, then I assume the practice not right for me, but Kenkō says you’re still better off doing it, as inner awakening cannot help but follower outer form. I guess I kind of assumed the opposite (inner form before outer). Another way of looking at it is that it’s easy to do a Buddhist practice when times are good, and enthusiasm high, but persisting when times are not ideal and faith is slacking is part of the growing process itself.

Food for thought for fellow Buddhists out there.

Namu Amida Butsu

P.S. Ironically this post kind of contradicts this one, but only on the surface I think.

¹ On the subject of Japanese Yojijukugo, I am reminded of the oft-used chūto hanpa (中途半端), which basically means doing something half-assed in a more poetic way.