You’re Not Getting Any Younger
Posted: January 26, 2012 Filed under: Buddhism, Health, Religion, Zen | Tags: Aging Leave a comment »Recently I found this old comic from Sinfest,1 and wanted to talk about it here.
The Buddha described the “Four Sufferings” (or “stresses” as I like to call them) in his first sermon:
- Birth is stress (as a parent, I understand this now after watching my daughter being born)
- Old Age is stress
- Disease is stress (we all know this one)
- Death is stress
Old Age is the worst in some ways. It’s very slow, drawn out and leads to increased chances of disease and death. Someone who’s healthy and robust at 30, may discover at 60 they have colon cancer, or succumb to pneumonia like my wife’s family neighbor did recently. Or as in the case of my late grandfather, dementia slowly sets in, and one simply becomes more and more feeble until one finally wastes away.
But even if we know in our minds that we’re getting older and it’s unavoidable, it still frightens us deep down. That’s really part of something very fundamental to our identity, our sense of self. Or rather, our illusion of self.
I remember a quote from Rev. Fujiwara in his book “What is Zen?” (reviewed here) where he describes the night of the Buddha’s enlightenment like so:
It began to dawn on Shakyamuni that the right way to live is to accept the four sufferings and live our this life one has received to the fullest. And in this fashion, Shakyamuni’s meditation gradually deepened.
But then he noticed a negative energy arising from the depths of his being that refused to accept the four sufferings. He discovered that desire, the refusal to accept the four sufferings as a part of life, was actually the cause of the four sufferings. He recognized a kind of negative energy underlying and controlling that desire, a primal, dark force that could not be dealt with by reason or intellect. That primal darkness is ignorance, or mumyō (無明).
Shakyamuni went on to continue to explore the self. The self that was controlled by the powerful force of ignorance could not be the true self. He concluded that without conquering this fundamental ignorance, it was impossible to accept the facts of birth, aging, sickness and death and liberate the mind.
This is very much how one might feel about their own mortality. We know logically it will happen, but our deeper, primal self will still resist it when we least expect it. And that “hidden” self is our fundamental ignorance, the root of our problems.
Getting old and dying is perfectly natural, but our behavior toward it is something worth observing and learning from.
Namu Shaka Nyorai
1 For those who may not be familiar, the character in the 4th panel is the Devil. In the Sinfest comic, the main character, often sells his soul to the Devil to get things
Another Side of Soto Zen Buddhism: Sojiji Temple
Posted: January 22, 2012 Filed under: Japan, Religion, Travel, Zen 7 Comments »One of the nice things about meeting blog readers, especially overseas, is that you get to see and learn so many cool things. I was fortunate once again to meet Tokyo expert and blog reader, “Johnl”, who has his own blog now who took me along for a tour of the main head temple of the Soto Zen sect:1 Sōjiji (總持寺) founded by Keizan. Sojiji was actually surprisingly close to where my in-laws live in Kawasaki City. Sojiji is located in Tsurumi district, but as long as you can get to Kawasaki Station, you can easily get to it one stop later on the Keihin Tohoku line, among other options.
But wait, you say! Soto Zen’s head temple, or daihonzan (大本山) is Eiheiji and the founder is Dogen. Doug, what nonsense are you talking about?
Well, Soto Zen’s lineage from China started with Dogen that’s true, and his monaster Eiheiji is the original, true. But Soto Zen underwent a major revival and flourished under a 4th generation disciple named Keizan who studied under two different teachers and was able to greatly popularize the teachings. As this helpful website shows, Keizan was very open to women followers, devotional practices toward Kannon Bodhisattva, and to people at large, while still retaining the essence of Soto Zen. I mention all this because Western Zen converts tend to deify Dogen a little, but if you study the history, most of what we know as Soto Zen now is due in large part to Keizan’s contributions and its accessibility to Westerners is also due in part to Keizen.
So, for this reason, Keizan and Dogen share equal status, but comprise different roles, and their temples (Eiheiji and Sojiji) likewise have equal status as head temples. To be honest, I tend to get a lot more inspired by Keizan than Dogen, but I guess that’s a matter of personality. :p
But enough of that. Getting to the interesting stuff……….the temple itself!
Sojiji has a great website and a great map, though all of it was in Japanese only. I suspect they get a lot fewer foreign travelers than Eiheiji does (despite being a lot more accessible), so there are not that many English language resources. Here’s the main gate or sanmon (三門) which is number 2 on the map:
It’s pretty big, though not quite as large as I remember Chion-in being.
Anyhow, Sojiji is a huge property so we went right to the reception area (number 3 on the map) and there we registered for a tour that runs a few times a day. It was ¥400 per person ($4.50) which was really cheap considering how great the tour was. We had to wait for the 11am tour, so we spent some time in the gift shop next door. I got some gifts and another copy of the Heart Sutra (I like collecting them from various temples).
Our tour guide was a nice older woman in her 60′s. She was relieved that we could speak Japanese, though honestly John’s Japanese is way better than mine. I only understood the tour here and there, but she was wonderfully nice and very easy going. Turns out she was a student at Sojiji’s parochial school and spent many times in her youth in the meditation classes. She mentioned it was cold in the meditation hall, but she said she had enjoyed it.
Also, before we started the tour, we stopped at the bathroom in the reception area, where we saw this excellent statue:
It took half the night to figure out who this was online, but it turns out to be an esoteric Buddhist figure named Ususama Myō-ō (OnMark Production has more info). Essentially he is, among other things, a guardian figure for restrooms in Japan.2
Anyhow, once the tour was underway, our first stop was at the famous hyakken rōka (百間廊下) which I think means something like “hundred spaces corridor” or something like that. It’s number 21 on the map and runs all the way across Sojiji. It’s quite long:
Also, the floor has two halves: one is raised and cleaned regularly (more on that later), while the other is more on the ground. It’s also broken up at some points so people can pass through, but also leads to other buildings. This is the Karamon gate (number 22 on the map):
This gate, similar to other “karamon” gates found at other Buddhist temples, is intended for special use for visits by the Imperial family or other noble families (e.g. Fujiwara), or their messengers. A similar gate was at Nishi Honganji.
Also, from the same spot, you can look north to see the Buddha’s Hall as well (number 12 on the map):
Here we stopped and bowed to Shakyamuni Buddha, the great sage, who is enshrined there, and moved on. At the end of the hall was an area dedicated for monastic training. Here were several rooms, some of which were not allowed to go into, but we were allowed to visit the meditation hall itself (number 15 on the map). This was actually comprised of two rooms, which rows of meditation cushions like so:
or with desks like so (which I think the tour guide said were intended for reading or study):
As the website’s link shows, this room also had a huge image of Kannon Bodhisattva in the middle with a person on each side holding their hand up to receive water (symbolizing Kannon’s wisdom pouring down). It was really interesting to see and imagine what the training must be like (I’ve never attended any meditation training in my life).
From there we went north along another hall:
Here’s me facing back where we came. On the right is a small staircase which leads to the bell tower (number 14 on the map), which we didn’t see. We did come to the end of this hall which led up to some stairs and a great big hall, the hōkōdō (方光堂, number 13 on the map) which has an altar devoted to Keizan himself. The tour guide stated we were welcome to take photos in most places, though not of monk’s faces. For some reason, old habits from other temples (where photos of the central figure are discouraged), made me hesitate, so I didn’t take a photo. As the website link shows, it’s a very colorful room, and the back walls had rows upon rows of ihai funeral tablets like the ones shown here. I believe the tour guide also mentioned that it’s frequently used for weddings and funerals.
From the other hand of this hall we descended into an underground tunnel:
This was a very interesting place to visit because along the walls were photos of the daily lives of Soto Zen monks, and details explaining various aspects like the sutra changing, begging for alms, bathing routines, etc. Again, I really wanted to take photos, but hesitated out of respect of the temple. Most of the routine was pretty much the same as explained here for a Rinzai Buddhist temple.
Once we finally emerged from the tunnel, we came to a kind of reception area:
Because it’s the 100th year anniversary since Sojiji moved to its present location, there were a lot of signs and historical photographs. We spent a lot of time here and ascended the stairs to the main Founder’s Hall (number 10 on the map) or daisōdō (大祖堂). This seemed like a much bigger version of the Hōkōdō we had just come from, and similarly had a central altar devoted to Keizan, and also many ihai tablets. We paid our respects again and moved to the other end of the hall, where we came to another hallway:
Apparently, the monks who do the daily floor cleanings start here. They get a wet rag, and run along one beam of the floor, pushing their rag in front of them. Another monk would start soon after, and run along the next floor beam, and so on. When they get to another room or something gets in the way, they simply went over it and kept going. You can see something similar on this video (minute 1:47). It seems like that’s really hard for one’s back to constantly do this.
From there we came to a pair of rooms, one on each side of the hallway, which were very pretty:
This was one room:
In a smaller room in the back was this famous painting of a black and white dragon, which I am sure I’ve seen before, though I can’t find online now. That room also had several portraits of past abbots of Sojiji. The other room looked like so:
In the middle is a painting of Bodhidharma, the semi-legendary Zen figure, though we were told that this painting was unusual because he’s standing rather than sitting in meditation. These rooms, number 7 on the map, are part of the shiuntai (紫雲臺) which is explained as the abbot’s quarters, and used when meeting with lay people, temple supporters, etc.
Further down the hallway, and the last leg of our tour was this view of the garden:
Suffice to say, I was really impressed with my time at Sojiji. It really helped to give me a much fuller picture of Zen, particularly Soto Zen, than what you normally see in Western media. What I saw there was a real community of people, lay and monastic, working together to preserve a venerable tradition without the usual “noise” I see from Western Zen communities. The combination of stories from the tour guide, seeing the young monks bustling about, plus the community as a whole made me appreciate the human side to Soto Zen that gets lost in English language Zen books that tend to mystify things ad nauseum. I don’t doubt that Sojiji as a main temple has plenty of scandals and politics, but that’s part of being human.
Anyway, thanks to “Johnl” for the excellent tour, and the much needed exposure to Zen in a very different context.
P.S. I feel like I should break this post up into two, it’s quite long, but I didn’t want to stop the flow.
P.P.S. John and I also visited Yokohama’s Chinatown later that day but I want to save that as a separate post.
1 Also, in Japanese language, Soto Zen is usually not called “zen”. It’s called sōtōshū (曹洞宗) which means “Soto School/Sect”, similar to how other Buddhist sects are always referred to as sh? (i.e. Jodo Shinshu, Jodo Shu, Nichrenshu, etc). Likewise, Rinzai Zen is called rinzai shū (臨済宗). Just saying.
2 A great article in the Japan Times about the toilets and Japanese culture. The ending proverb is also a good indication of restaurants and their overall hygiene when you think about it.
Year 2011 wrap-up
Posted: December 31, 2011 Filed under: Buddhism, Family, Japan, Travel, Zen 2 Comments »New Year’s Eve didn’t go as planned, but it was interesting too.
Originally we planned on taking my daughter and I to a local temple to take part in the bell-ringing service, or joya no kane, but I had to stay home as my daughter still has a lingering cough, and was very tired that night. Instead, I spent the time polishing up some blog posts and listening to Brown Eyed Girls on YouTube (I regret not buying their CD when I went to Shin Okubo… more on that soon). My wife went to Tokyo Dome with her best friend to enjoy a concert by Kinki Kids, her favorite group since she was young. The “Kinki” in the name refers to the duo’s home in the Kinki region of Japan (Kyoto, Nara) and not something else. Anyhow, I am happy for my wife as she hasn’t been to a Kinki Kids concern in about 10 years, so I wholeheartedly encouraged her to go.
Earlier in the day, we all went to visit the grave of a neighbor who recently passed away. This is called ohaka mairi (お墓参り). Shortly before we came to Japan, my wife’s neighbor’s wife passed away. My wife’s family, and their family have been very close. I personally know 3 generations of their family and watched them grow up, so I was sad and shocked to find out the grandmother had passed away due to a sudden bout of pneumonia (she was home alone when it happened). Suffice to say, the once vibrant grandfather looked much more tired and somehow resigned than I last remembered him. It reminds me of the fragility of life.
Anyhow, for the ohaka mairi we drove to the temple where the grandmother’s grave was, which was a local Soto Zen temple (she was a lay Soto Zen Buddhist). It was actually my first time visiting a Soto Zen temple. Unlike temples in the US, which focus on meditation only, temples in Japan are more community-focused, while actual “training halls” for monks are often separate. Still, it was a side of Soto Zen I had never seen before and actually found it interesting. I suppose other Western Buddhist converts might say “what? no meditation? that’s not Buddhism!”, but I say come to Japan and get to know things on the ground. Ironically, being there somehow made me appreciate Soto Zen more because I realized there was a lot more than Western converts fighting about lineages and other stupid stuff online (and in books).
We changed the flowers at the grave with fresh ones, offered a large bundle of incense sticks (each of us offered a few), did gassho (a Buddhist gesture) and poured water over the gravestone using a ladle and a bucket of water. This is to honor the dead, but also it is believed that ghosts are thirsty so the offering of water is to relieve their suffering.
Once this was done, we went shopping for New Year’s goods. We went to Ito Yokado, which is a popular department store, roughly comparable to Target in the US (but much better customer service like everything else in Japan). Everyone was scrambling to get last-minute New Year’s items:
These decorations or kazari (飾り) are kind of good-luck items that people often hang on their front door, or sometimes in the car. You can see them on many homes in Japan at this time of year.
Also, we decided to get a little kimono for my daughter. Kimonos for 5 year old girls are not that common because girls tend to wear kimonos at age 7 for Shichigosan, or as teenagers for school-events (graduation, coming of age, etc). Still, my daughter and her grandparents thought it would be great to get her one for New Year’s Day, so after calling around, we found a nice kimono shop at the local Takashimaya department store. Takashimaya is pretty upscale, even by Japanese standards, so it was a nice treat to go. We actually went there the previous day because there is a good bookstore there, and I got myself some good books on Korean language in Japanese (more on that later), but today was much more busy because it was December 31st, and everyone was doing last-minute shopping.
Once that was done, we had some good soba (I tried natto-soba which was awesome), and went home. My little one wasn’t feeling too well, and I wanted her to sleep rather than stay up until midnight, so I decided to stay home (rusuban 留守番 in Japanese), so my in-laws could go to ring the bell at the local temple. I have plenty to look forward to tomorrow for Hatsumode (the first temple visit), so that’s fine. I was happy to catch up on the blog. 
Also, my daughter celebrated her 5th birthday a couple days ago. This was her birthday cake, featuring her favorite Disney princess, Aurora from Sleeping Beauty:
She did much better this year. Last year, the room was too hot, and I think she was nervous so she threw up around this time. This year, she had a lot of fun. Happy Birthday, sweetie.
Anyhow, I’ll write more in 2012. See you then!
Akemashite Omedetou Gozaimasu!
P.S. This is an impromptu post, apologies for editing/grammar mistakes.
Understanding the Buddhist Sutras: a (somewhat) brief overview
Posted: August 6, 2011 Filed under: Buddhism, Religion, Zen | Tags: China, history, India, sutra 3 Comments »
(Photo is a screen shot from the movie “Kūkai 空海” by Toei Video Co. Ltd., all rights reserved)
As an extension of my very brief history of Buddhism, I wanted to talk about this subject. The key to understanding Buddhism is a huge volume of texts called sutras or suttas, (経, kyō in Japanese or jīng in Chinese). Unlike Western religions, which derive their teachings from a particular book, or a set of books, the sutras in Buddhism are a very large collection of teachings and sermons. Some are very short, a few paragraphs, some are very long and complicated. Sometimes these are organized into collections, but it depends on which branch of Buddhism, and which volumes of sutras they inherited in that tradition. Altogether, the entire collection is called the Tripitaka (Sanskrit) or Tipitika (Pali), which means “Triple Basket” because the other “baskets” are the monastic training rules among other texts.
In ancient Indian culture (500 BC), people did not like to write down sacred teachings, because people thought this would cheapen them. Receipts, invoices, and political texts were written down, but sacred texts were memorized by followers. This was true with Buddhism, but also other religions at the time, including the ancient Vedic religion. Hinduism didn’t exist yet, and wouldn’t until much later.
But how could a person recall an entire teachings by the Buddha? They didn’t. Instead, a team of disciples did it, and recited it together to ensure mistakes were corrected, and gaps were filled. According to one story, 3 months after the Buddha passed way, all his disciples gather together to review the teachings, recite them and correct any misunderstandings. This reminds me of a documentary I once watched. The documentary was made in 1970 and showed a Hindu ceremony, and it was really interesting to watch. The particular hymn was very long, taking days to recite, but the film shows how the teacher (a Brahmin priest) trains his student to memorize the entire hymn, using many different tricks, mnemonics, even how to sway his body to the rhythm to help him remember. Even before Shakyamuni Buddha’s time, it was an established method, and the early Buddhist disciples adopted it. It’s also why sutras always begin with the phrase “Thus have I heard” as a matter of tradition, even if they were composed in later generations.
Finally though, the culture changed, and sutras were written down either in Pali or Sanskrit, or later in Prakrit, which is kind of like a watered-down, simplified version of Sanskrit. The photo above shows how sutras looked in India, because they were written down on palm leaves, pieces of wood, etc, then bound with string. The word “sutra” just means “thread” by the way, and is related to the English word “suture”.
By the time sutras started to appear in writing, 400 years had already passed. Some would say the Buddha’s teachings had already been corrupted by this point, that they had failed to represent the Buddha’s real teachings.1 Some neo-orthodox Buddhists in the West seem to like to make this argument, and that the sutras are not important, but this assumes a callous attitude to all those countless generations of bhikkhus (monks), bhikkunis (nuns) and lay people who struggled to preserve the teachings in their generation, so that future generations could enjoy them. Before they were committed to writing, these same followers faithfully made every effort to memorize the teachings of the Buddha and pass them on to the next generation. Stylistic differences arose because of geography, and dialects, but their devotion to the Buddha and his teachings was the same regardless of culture/geography/dialect.
Anyway, a single, written sutra like the one shown above took tremendous work to copy faithfully letter by letter, and was not a trivial task. A person had to be knowledgeable of Sanskrit and had to have the time and resources to copy everything letter by letter. Try copying your favorite book by hand onto a notepad, and you’ll see how hard this is.
Thus, in the old days, even a single sutra of the Buddha was very important. It was the anchor that bound a Buddhist community together, and helped them connect with the ancient past. Even in the modern era, Thich Nhat Hanh told Westerners how many refugee families from Vietnam would flee on boats in stormy, shark-filled, pirate-infested waters, carrying nothing but their clothes and a copy of The Heart Sutra. Thus, when Buddhist teachers traveled away from India into foreign lands, they brought as many sutras they could. A single batch of sutras in a foreign land was a huge treasure for people there.
By the time sutras came to China, they had to be translated because no one in China knew Sanskrit except for a few, few Buddhist scholars. During the Tang Dynasty, many sutras were painstakingly translated from Sanskrit to Chinese, even though the two languages and cultures were so radically different. The sutras shown above were replaced with Chinese style “scrolls” and Tang Dynasty-era Chinese (Classical Chinese) became the language of choice. Even now, this is not unlike translating Classical Chinese Buddhist texts into English, two languages that are completely different and derive from different cultural assumptions. It was a monumental task, but despite the challenges Buddhism took root in China after centuries, and flourished, spreading to Japan, Korea and Vietnam. Japanese priests would spend years or decades in Chinese, and risk a perilous trip1 over typhoon-plagued waters in small, sub-optimal boats, to bring back a basket full of sutras.
Even now, we are very fortunate to have Buddhist Sutras available in Western languages and online for easy distribution. A Buddhist bhikkhu or bhikkuni traveling from India to China to carry a single sutra would have to cross a vast wilderness and various tribes and kingdoms along the way. This was life along the ancient Silk Road, and it shows just how dedicated some of these men and women were to the Buddha’s teachings, almost 1,000 after the Buddha had passed into Nirvana.
The point of all this, is that the next you read a sutra, or recite a portion of its text, stop and reflect how many people worked to preserve and transmit that teaching from the earliest days of the Buddha’s community, across many lands, to the Internet today. It’s pretty amazing and humbling when you think about it.
P.S. I wanted to thank a certain blog reader who kindly donated the Kukai movie above, which provided the photo, but also the inspiration for this post. Thank you!
1 For those who still like to argue about the relevancy or historical accuracy of a given Buddhist sutra, rather than put it into practice, Prof. Epstein had some good words on the subject.
2 Japan was never very good at making ships to be honest, unlike the Ryukyu kingdom who became expert seafarers.
Tsunamis and Radiation: a matter of history and perspective
Posted: April 1, 2011 Filed under: Buddhism, Japan, Religion, Zen 2 Comments »While turning off the computer and cooking some oatmeal a while ago, I was reading Prof. Bodiford’s history of medieval Sōtō Zen, and I stumbled upon a fitting passage.
In Tōtōmi Province in 1498, the countryside had been ravaged by war and bad weather, when the worst happened: on the twenty-fifth day of the eighth month a powerful earthquake hit Japan followed by a tsunami. This is very likely the same tsunami that hit the Kamakura Buddha statue in the neighboring provinces.
According to records presented by Bodiford, people were in a great state of despair “waiting to die, while the elderly called out the name of the Buddha” (pg 119). Among them was a monk of the Sōtō Zen sect named Shōdō Kōsei (松堂高盛 1431-1508) who lived among them and sought to calm them with these words:
This old man [himself] has spent more than thirty years in the rinka [monasteries], sitting in Zen meditation, quietly withering away my desires, without expectations for the morrow. When hunger comes, I eat. When the time comes, I sleep….The present does not persist. The past and future do not exist….Eternally, I dwell in Nirvāṇa. This is the called the mind that is not possessed by the three states [of time, past, present and future]. This mind-not-possessed (fukatokushin) is itself the diamond wisdom (kongō hannya). This mind withstands the blowing storm winds without moving, withstands eons of rising flames without burning, and withstands the tremors of earthquakes without cracking….This is why the scripture says: “The Tathāgata [Buddha], having left the burning house of the three states [of time], lives in quiet seclusion within the woods. Now within the three states [of time], everything belongs to [him]; All the beings therein are [his] children.” As this old man reflects on recent events, I keep recalling these two lines. (pg. 119)
These may seem like strange words for some, but I think it touches upon something important in Buddhism: life happens whether we want it to or not, but what matters is how we perceive and interpret it. A mind that is untrained, unable to see the bigger picture and wobbly will fret and get upset over the things they lost, what they will do tomorrow, etc. Even though they still live and breathe, people worry about so many other things.
But a mind that is settled, like a mountain, is unmoved by the things that are out of control anyway. Instead, they focus on the things they have control over, focus on the here and now, and do what they need to do. This does not make someone aloof or detached. It does not make them a robot. You can see the example of Shōdō who actively sought to placate and help the people in the village, or in modern day efforts by Buddhists in other countries to help Japan. The point is that one doesn’t get caught up in their own petty selfishness. This is what Chinese master, Yin-Shun, explained as the benefit of training the mind so that it is not scattered and unstable.
Training in Buddhism won’t make problems go away, it won’t lessen the severity either, but it does provide some very helpful perspectives, and helps one in any situation, severe or just annoying. Also, it’s very interesting to see a similar tragedy happen to Japan centuries ago, a time when things like Red Cross, bottled-water or Twitter didn’t exist, and how people coped with it then. Five hundreds years from now, if a similar tragedy happens, I wonder how people will judge our actions now.
Namu Yakushi Nyorai
P.S. I wrote this post almost two weeks ago, then deleted it because I just didn’t feel it was appropriate. But I rescued this from the trash, polished it up, and decided to post it afterall.
Ven. Yin-Shun explains Buddhist meditation
Posted: March 31, 2011 Filed under: Buddhism, China, Religion, Zen Leave a comment »One of my favorite books on Buddhism after all these years is Ven. Yin-Shun’s book on Buddhism called The Way to Buddhahood. I was thumbing through the book recently looking for something, when I stumbled upon this lengthy explanation about the importance of meditation in Buddhism. Venerable Yin-Shun was a respected Chan Buddhist,1 and widely respected for the breadth of his knowledge, and for reviving Buddhism in Taiwan.
On page 94 through 96, he takes up the subject about the importance of meditation (trans. courtesy of Dr. Wing H. Yeung):
These people [who question the value of meditation] do not know that purifying the mind is the goal of the Buddha Dharma and that within the worldly Dharma, practicing meditation is the only way that one can achieve such a goal….
Why should one practice meditation? There are many reasons, but the most important is that in this sinful world meditation is the only means of curing two big problems: attachment to sensual pleasure and scatteredness. Humans are attached to various sensual pleasures: material goods and agreeable sights, sounds, smells, tastes, touch, and sex. They cling to present sensual pleasures; they think about past sensual pleasures; they seek blindly for future sensual pleasures. When people are without sensual pleasures, they struggle to get them; when they have them; they are afraid of losing them; after losing them, they become utterly miserable. Do not all the problems in the human world —social, economic, and political — exist because of desire for sensual pleasure? One should not be attached to the sensual pleasures, for they are like the honey on a knife blade; the honey has a sweet taste, but tasting it causes pain.The human mind is scattered, much more so than the restless movements of monkeys, and because of this people easily become emotional, unable to clearly recognize reality (those who are extremely scattered cannot even understand worldly knowledge), unable to control themselves, and continually influenced by their changing environments.
But how does one begin? Ven. Yin-Shun then explains two kinds of preparation:
First, one must have kindness. Do not practice meditation out of curiosity, to gratify desire for limitless sensual pleasures, to extend one’s longevity, or to activate supermundane powers in order to get revenge. Rather one should be motivated by kind thoughts and want to practice meditation for the benefit and happiness of sentient beings. With kindness, one will have a gentle heart and can easily succeed in one’s practice….Second, one must receive and keep the pure precepts (the ten good deeds,2 etc) with virtuous conduct, both physical and verbal. If one acts improperly, then practicing meditation will attract demons and evil.
And in discussing what to do before practice:
…one should have firm faith that practicing meditation is the most blissful of all worldly dharmas. In terms of worldly pleasures, nothing is better than the pleasures of the five desires, and of these sexual pleasure is extreme; but these cannot be compared to the pleasure of meditation. The pleasures of meditation are complete and permeate the entire body, as if rain were filling everything, from gutters to ponds and swamps. If one can have faith and understand that practicing meditation activates an incomparable pleasure, then one will not be bound to the pleasure of external objects and will practice with diligence and without interruption.
Speaking from personal experience, I have had that experience once of calmness and pleasure permeating the body, just like water. It really is true, though regretfully that was when I was in Ireland, and I haven’t had much time to meditate consistently since then. Still after reading these passages I may take it up again.
Namu Kanzeon Bosatsu
1 Chan Buddhism has common origins with Zen, but it’s important not to confuse the two. Japanese Zen has some differences with Chinese Chan Buddhism, but they also have some commonalities. Just saying.
2 The Ten Good Deeds are an extension of the basic Five Precepts:
- No killing.
- No stealing.
- No illicit sex. Homosexuality is not a problem, how you use could be…same applies to heterosexuality.
- No lying.
- No backbiting
- Not speaking harsh/abusive language.
- No frivolous talk (talk that leads to breaking other precepts, or just stupid, pointless chatter)
- No greed
- No anger
- No deviant views (with respect to Buddhism)
The Five Precepts are the baseline for keeping one from harming others, while the Ten Good Deeds is a broader list to cover speech, body and mind. A similar post on the subject (though a slightly different list of precepts) here.
Buddhism: Getting what you wished for
Posted: March 7, 2011 Filed under: Buddhism, Jodo Shinshu, Religion, Shingon, Theravada, Zen 7 Comments »Lately, I have been continuing my read of Prof. Reader’s and Prof. Tanabe’s book on practical Japanese religion. I mentioned this book before when talking about “American-Protestant Buddhism“, and in Chapter 2, the book takes up the subject of “orthodox” Buddhism and popular Buddhism.
People who see Buddhists praying at altars for things like good jobs, health and so on, may conclude that Buddhism is corrupted or that this is not true Buddhism. You can see this in criticisms by some scholars and priests in such sects as Jodo Shinshu and Soto Zen. Afterall, Buddhism is about letting go of the world as it shifts under your feet anyway. So, why all the prayers for practical worldly benefits? This is a deceptively difficult question, and Reader and Tanabe show various ways that Asian and Western scholars have attempted to explain the two. They show how the typical rationalizations tend to fall into a few different types:
- Buddhism was pure, but has been corrupted by outside practices.
- Buddhist texts talk about practical benefits to attract followers.
- Buddhism uses the notion of expedient means to lure people one way, while secretly teaching them another.
Reader and Tanabe show how all these arguments are essentially forced interpretations because the very sutras themselves speak of practical worldly benefits. Of course, the ultimate goal of Buddhism is to attain liberation and full peace of mind. But the same sutras also show through vivid examples how people who have faith in these teachings, in these Buddhas and Bodhisattvas, also gain more immediate benefits in this life too. In their words:
Strictly speaking, then, our contention here is not that sutra Buddhism is a folk religion but that it takes its place along with folk religion within the common religion, which is entirely comfortable with and embraces both Buddhist scriptures and the popular practices of this-worldly benefits. The conflict, as noted earlier, is between these popular practices and sectarian orthodox doctrines based on notions of true and false religions….What is remarkable about sectarian interpretations is their adamant refusal to accept what the sutras say about practical benefits. (pg. 101)
So in a sense, Reader and Tanabe are telling “orthodox” Buddhists to get over themselves, albeit politely.
Earlier in the chapter, they presented an interesting example of Buddhism in action in Japan at a temple in Tokyo called Todoroki Fudōson Temple (等々力不動尊) in the Setagaya Ward of Tokyo. Todoroki Fudosan Temple is a famous temple of the Shingon sect, possibly established in the 11th century and even today remains a popular pilgrimage point. People frequently come to have fortunes read through omikuji (more on that in a later post), purchase charms, pray for health, wealth and so on. But also, on Saturdays the temple is also used for seminars. The authors noted a lecture on the Lotus Sutra that took place at the time they were researching the book, where about 40 people, mostly women, attended and together they studied the important Parable of the Burning House in chapter 3. This lecture came with full text, and careful line by line explanations. Then afterward, they sat for a time in quiet sitting even as people outside “jangled the bells, tossed their coins noisily into the offertory box… (pg. 72-73)”.
The point, the authors make is that there is no sense of incongruity between the two. Only the minds of scholars and skeptics is there a problem.
So why do both exist? If Buddhism really does offer worldly benefits as the sutras state, then why even bother with the monastic life, letting go of cravings, purifying the mind and so on?
As I read this chapter, I thought about that question a lot. In fact, I’ve pondered it for years. I think for me the answer is that the worldly benefits provided by the Buddhas and Bodhisattvas are still subject to the usual laws of impermanence, and the mind that is never satisfied for long. If through your sincere prayers Kannon Bodhisattva does indeed help one achieve a successful business, or a good job, this is a mixed blessing. If you get lots of money, you have a more comfortable life, but you also have to now protect your wealth. If you have a successful business, you now have more responsibilities. If you pray for long-life, you still must die regardless of your lifespan.
But at the same time, what’s clear in Buddhism is that the Buddha Shakyamuni, and all the Buddhas and Bodhisattvas strive to help people nevertheless so as to lessen their suffering even a little. If a Bodhisattva like Kannon turned a blind eye to people for the sake of doctrinal purity, that would seem pretty rotten wouldn’t it? It’s not about being right, it’s about helping people. Also, Reader and Tanabe bring up a clever point:
As we noted earlier in our discussion of the Flower Garland Sutra, to have the gods give us what we want is to be spared the vice of selfishness and to obligate ourselves morally to earn our rewards. This is a favor but it is not a free gift. To pray for practical benefits means to study diligently, to keep going to the doctor, to work hard at the job, and all of the other kinds of right conduct that prayers do not obviate but invoke instead. Commercialization does not require control of the gods; what it demands is the obligation to pay for what one gets. (pg. 87)
I admit I pray for certain mundane things myself. I pray for my wife’s and daughter’s safety often, and I often pray to get a suitable job in Japan (I work in IT), so that my wife and daughter can be happy and I can study the Dharma more easily. But I also have considered the fact that moving to a foreign country will also bring new challenges and problems. I lived in Ireland, an English-speaking country, for a year and even that was difficult at times (rewarding in many other ways…I often miss Ireland), so living in a non-English speaking country is even harder.
Still, I believe that praying for this-worldly benefits is like a bandage. The wound is still bleeding underneath, as it were. Any benefits I gain through good karma and Buddhism are temporary and still have some cost with them, or they will get exhausted in time. The only real solution in the long-run is to stop them at the source and prevent further “injuries” in the first place.
If I have problems in life, it is the result of my own bad conduct in this life or a past one. So, if I pray for help with my problems in life, it will help me recover from my own mistakes. But if I were to avoid making the same mistake later and follow better conduct, wouldn’t that be better in the long-run?
One of my favorite sutras in the Theravadin Pali Canon is the Maha-Mangala Sutta (Snp 2.4) which shows what the Buddha considered the highest blessing in Buddhism (trans. by Ven. Narada Thera):
…To support mother and father, to cherish wife and children, and to be engaged in peaceful occupation — this is the greatest blessing.
To be generous in giving, to be righteous in conduct, to help one’s relatives, and to be blameless in action — this is the greatest blessing.
To loathe more evil and abstain from it, to refrain from intoxicants, and to be steadfast in virtue — this is the greatest blessing….
Notice that this is taught as the highest blessing, not the only blessing. Also, consider the words of the Lotus Sutra, which is frequently cited by Reader and Tanabe for its frequent mentions of this-worldly benefits. This quotation comes from chapter 17 (Gene Reeves translation), emphasis added by me:
“Therefore I say that after the extinction of the Tathagata [the Buddha], if anyone receives and embraces, reads and recites this sutra, teaches it for the sake of others, either copies it himself or causes others to copy it, and makes offerings to it, they no longer need to put up stupas and temples or build monasteries and make offerings to the monks. How much more true this is of those who are able to embrace this sutra and also practice generosity, morality, patience, perseverance, single-mindedness, and wisdom. Their virtue will be the greatest, immeasurable and unlimited, just as space, which in the east, west, south and north, the four intermediate directions, and up and down, is immeasurable and unlimited. So too the blessings of such people will be innumerable and unlimited, and they will quickly reach all-inclusive wisdom….
Thus, in the Buddhist religion, the Buddhas and Bodhisattvas strive to help all beings out of compassion and thus one cannot separate the so-called “folk religion” from the institutional one. Westerners who try to do so only shoot themselves in the foot. However, what many don’t realize is that in addition to everyday blessings, the Buddha offers so much more for those who are willing to listen, and who eventually grow tired of the petty gains in life. It might be today, it might be 20 years from now, but people change, and the door of the Dharma is always open.
Namu Amida Butsu
P.S. Another parting thought by Prof. Tanabe and Reader:
The blame cannot be laid solely upon a modern notion of true religion, although in our own times it is far more difficult to justify superstitions than it might have been in the past, for the opposition is an ancient one. It is a long-standing schizophrenia born to a religious tradition that has declared war with the world but cannot quite bring itself to kill it. (pg. 101-102)
A Look at Rinzai Zen Monastic Life
Posted: January 2, 2011 Filed under: Buddhism, Japan, Zen 5 Comments »A while back, I wrote a post that reviewed a certain bilingual Zen book I purchased in Japan called What is Zen? 禅ってなんだろう？. by Rev. Fujiwara.
One aspect of the book that is discussed in detail, but I did not have time to explore in my last post was the subject of monasticism in Rinzai Zen sect. This post does not cover Soto Zen which was outside the scope of the book. Aspects of Rinzai Zen monasticism may have common features with other monastic institutions in Buddhism, and other aspects may differ.
To sum up, Rinzai Zen monasticism is highly regulated and intensive. As Rev. Fujiwara explains:
There are rules regulating every action in the sōdō [monks' hall 僧堂], from the way you pick up and put down your chopsticks to the way you take off sandals. When people who are accustomed to the freedom of ordinary life face this situation, they feel terribly restricted. It’s difficult to get used to the regimen, and they often break the rules and are scolded by senior novices. But gradually they adapt and are able to carry out their duties as a novice efficiently and correctly. Strangely, in spite of all the tension, one feels a refreshing vigor. (pg. 53)
and later:
As we review these regulations of the monks’ hall, their meaning becomes clear. In other words, by regulating one’s behavior, one’s mind is also regulated. The Zen patriarchs were well aware of this. Moreover, the regulations enable Zen monks to concentrate at all times on sanzen [参禅]. (pg. 59)
But let’s look in further detail.
Becoming a monk
As Rev. Fujiwara explains, to become a monk, one must first become a disciple of the head-priest at a Rinzai temple, and eventually undergo the first ordination ceremony or tokudo shiki (得度式). Your head is shaved except a small bit the day before, and then on the day of the ceremony, this last bit is shaved off. Then one prostrates before the Buddha, parents, the Emperor and teacher since they have all cared for him until now. One then receives a “Zen name” and receives the basic tools of a monk: robe, begging bowl, Zen liturgy, etc.
One then makes a confession disavowing all the harmful, unskillful acts one has committed in the past, and one formally takes refuge in the Three Treasures. One is now a shami (沙弥) or novice disciple in Japanese Buddhism. However, in order to progress beyond the beginning stage, one must undergo further training and for that one must journey to a dedicated monastic training hall in the Rinzai tradition called a sōdō (僧堂) carrying only the barest essentials and a letter of permission from your teacher.
In the Rinzai tradition in particular, there is a tradition of refusing the disciple’s request at a training hall for three days called niwazume (庭詰). As Rev. Fujiwara explains: “If the postulant gives up at this stage, he will never be accepted into any temple. (pg. 45)” One has to simply wait at the temple steps prostrate oneself until admitted in.
If you are admitted in, one must then prove their determination by sitting in meditation from morning until night in a process called tangazume (旦過詰) in a very small room for two to four days. Then, one’s efforts are recognized and one is admitted to the monastery at last. One makes a token donation (about ¥1000 which is about $10) called shōkenkō (相見香) and interviews with the Zen master of the temple or shiké (師家) over tea before the real regimen begins.
Daily Life
The author states in the book that he is speaking of his own experience at Tōfukuji Temple in Kyoto and that the particular regimen may not be reflected in other temples. According to the author, the practices of Rinzai Zen monastic life are often divided by times and seasons, so that there are periods of intensive practice and periods that are less strenuous to allow for recovery. As Rev. Fujiwara writes:
During this “rest period,” the monks meet with the master once daily, in the morning, for sanzen, a private interview during which the master tests the monks understanding of his kōan. During the day they engage in manual labor, called samu[作務]. They only engage in meditation in the evenings, when they meditate facing the walls in a practice called menpeki (面壁). (pg. 47)
I think this is an important point, since people assume they can escape to a Zen monastery to have more time for meditation, when in fact meditation is only a part of the much broader monastic life. It’s not a vacation in other words, one is committing oneself to be a disciple and work daily for the good of the community, not one’s own peace of mind. I remember reading Ajahn Chah’s book a while back, when he talked about an American disciple in his Thai monastery who insisted on wandering off to meditate instead of attending group meetings like everyone else. Ven. Ajahn Chah didn’t say ‘no’, but would make big deal of it in front of everyone until the disciple finally understood and started attending meetings like everyone. A disciple works for everyone’s benefit, not just their own, even when it seemingly runs counter to what people expect from Buddhist monks. The problem is that one’s ego, and sense of individual identity may get in the way at first, thus both in Thailand and in Japanese Zen monasteries (among other places), one is trained to let go of one’s ego through honest labor.
Getting back to the routine, Rev. Fujiwara explains that the disciples awake at 3:30am in summer or 4:30 in winter and must get ready with great haste to get dressed and fold up their bedding, get cleaned up and ready. From there, they take part in communal sutra recitation or chōka (朝課) and eat a very light meal (more on that below), then a private interview with the Zen master (shiké). As it is now daybreak, one works to silently clean up the monastery grounds, continuing to focus on solving their kōan.
Depending on the day of the month, monks may either:
- Go out in a group to beg for alms, or takuhatsu (托鉢). This is usually restricted to a group of three monks only.
- Attend a lecture, or teishō (提唱).
- Clean the monastery, repair robes, shave their heads and bathe.
After lunch, there is a noon rest period for sleeping meditation, or zasui (座睡) while the afternoon is spent engaging in their assigned manual labor. This can include chopping wood, cleaning the latrines, weeding, etc. Evening is spent again reciting the sutras, or banka (晩課), and for dinner they consume any leftover food from earlier in the day as oppose to another meal. At last, deep in the night, they spend their time engaged in meditation in the meditation hall, resisting the urge to sleep.
From there, they engage in further meditation outside or yaza (夜座) both in winter and summer. From there, monks file out in order of seniority, such that the novices go last. As Rev. Fujiwara explains, the average sleep allowed is three hours.
During periods of sesshin (摂心), one undergoes more intensive meditation practice (since manual labor has been taken care of during restful periods mentioned above). The big sesshin, called rōhatsu (臘八) or rōhatsu daisesshin (臘八大摂心) is described by Rev. Fujiwara as the “novice killer” (his words, not mine) because from December 1st to December 8th, disciples engage in non-stop meditation without any sleep for the entire period. This culminates with Bodhi Day, the Day the Buddha is said to have become enlightened according to tradition.
Food
Food is an important topic in Rinzai Zen monastic life. In keeping with the Buddhist monastic tradition regarding food, Rinzai Zen temples serve the disciples food that does not come from harming or taking life. This is called fusseshōkai (不殺生戒) in Japanese Buddhism. As Rev. Fujiwara explains, disciples must still take plant life, so over meals, they say a kind of Buddhist “grace” to express repentance and gratitude. For practical purposes, he also explains that “moreover, meat is too energy rich, making it hard to control your body and mind.” He states that barley and unpolished rice are easier to digest over long periods of sitting meditation, and are consumed instead.
The morning meal mentioned earlier, the meal usually consists of rice porridge and pickled vegetables, while the midday meal consists of rice and barley (three parts rice to seven parts barley as Rev. Fujiwara explains) and miso soup.
Conclusion
As stated before, there is much here that may resonate with other Buddhist monastic traditions, and some things are uniquely Japanese or to Rinzai Zen in particular. The purpose of this post wasn’t to scare people off, but to help deflate the idyllic fantasy of a quiet Zen retreat when your life becomes difficult.1 When one undertakes the monastic vows, one becomes a “professional” Buddhist in a sense, and devotes one’s time and energy to support and accomplish this work. The rewards are extraordinary, but one should be careful not to trivialize the task either. 
Namu Amida Butsu
1 A good reminder that there’s no real retreat from life, so better to practice and cultivate wisdom here and now. Make the most of what you have here and now.
An Example of Rinzai Buddhist Liturgy
Posted: December 17, 2010 Filed under: Buddhism, Japan, Japanese, Latin, Tendai, Zen Leave a comment »In April readers will no doubt recall my trip to Japan and in particular Kyoto/Nara which I hadn’t seen in five years. Among the many sites there we saw the Silver Pavilion, which is technically a temple of the Rinzai Zen sect. Rinzai Zen, founded by Eisai, for historical reasons has often been the most “urban” of the Zen sects in Japan. Anyway, while there I picked a small book of Buddhist liturgy:
And the interior folds out like many Buddhist liturgy books in Japan:
That is a picture of Kannon Bodhisattva on the right.
Originally, I thought this was a book of the Heart Sutra only based on the title. Nearly every Buddhist temple sells a copy of the Heart Sutra for home chanting, with the usual exception of Pure Land and Nichiren temples, so they are nearly ubiquitous. I found Heart Sutra prayer books at Kofukuji and Todaiji among other places but the one at the Silver Pavilion turned out to be a more complete book and I wanted share its contents in particular.
Rinzai, like most sects in Japan, derived from the Tendai sect which at one point was the de facto religious power in Japan for a time. As such, the liturgy in the book reflects Tendai influence, not unlike the prayer book I picked up years ago at Tokyo’s Sensoji Temple. It also reflects a kind of medieval Buddhist liturgy that was widely prevalent in Japan, again with certain notable exceptions. I suspect many Buddhist communities sort of “drew from the same pool”, hence there were some commonalities across the board.
The contents of the book look like so up close:
On the left is how Japanese Buddhist liturgy is usually expressed: using Sino-Japanese, not vernacular Japanese. Japanese furigana is written by each character to aid in pronunciation. On the right-hand side is a native Japanese explanation of the meaning, which is often included in other prayer books I’ve brought back, but not always.
When Buddhism first imported to Japan from China and Korea, the texts were preserved in Classical Chinese language at the time, but read with a more Japanese pronunciation. Well-educated men of the ancient aristocracy usually read and composed documents in this style, even though it probably sounded somewhat artificial, and is entirely unreadable to modern Japanese now. It is not unlike Catholic liturgy which preserves prayers and such in Latin that isn’t entirely pronounced right anymore (sounds more like Italian than true Latin), but is preserved for tradition and because it’s often the earliest instance of that liturgy.
Although the book contains the Heart Sutra, in keeping with Buddhist tradition, there are other, smaller bits of liturgy recited before and after, and it goes in the following order in this book (like others I have seen):
- Sangemon (懴悔文) – Reflection and repentance of one’s past actions. This is an important aspect of Mahayana Buddhism if not Buddhism in general, as it helps you start over and clean the slate as you move along the path.
- Kaikyōge (開経偈) – Giving thanks for encountering the Buddha-Dharma. Because rebirth as a human is so rare among the possible states of rebirth, and because even most humans don’t encounter the Dharma, this is a valuable opportunity and thus Buddhists express gratitude accordingly.
- The Heart Sutra, one of the most universal of Buddhist texts.
- Ekō (回向) – Dedicating the good merit to benefit all beings. Another feature of Mahayana Buddhism in particular.
- Inori (祈り) – a prayer
- Jūsanbutsu, Kōmyō Shingon (十三仏、光明真言) – Esoteric mantras including the Thirteen Buddhas and Bodhisattvas, and the Mantra of Light.
- Hōwa (法話) – a Dharma-talk, a sermon.
- Shigu Seigan (四弘誓願) – The Four Bodhisattva Vows.
- Shokuji Gokanmon (食事五観文) – The Five Reflections at meal-time.
So that’s a brief look at Buddhist liturgy in the context of Rinzai Zen Buddhism.
P.S. Photos taken with a real camera this time, not my iPhone, hence they look a little better. Lighting is still poor in the den, so I did what I could to fix it.
Why Buddhist meditation?
Posted: October 24, 2010 Filed under: Buddhism, Religion, Theravada, Zen 2 Comments »An article on Brad Warner’s blog caught my attention recently about how people perceive meditation. Buddhist meditation seems to divide people into the category of those who romanticize it unnecessarily, and those who demonize it. This article is a brief effort to try to help explain what Buddhist meditation is, how it fits into the larger religion, and how it can help benefit a person. Here, I am drawing from other sources as much as possible, as I don’t like to pontificate too much. (There’s plenty of that on the Internet as it is)
Buddhism at its heart begins and ends with the classic Four Noble Truths, something frequently misunderstood and mistranslated in generations past, and these mistakes still persist even today. The link above contains a much better, more modern explanation and is worth a visit. Anyhow, the Four Noble Truths, like a doctor’s diagnosis, explains the world at large. It’s sobering to some, but a bitter pill is still good medicine in my opinion.
Then the Buddha teaches the Eightfold Path, also linked here. If the Four Noble Truths are the diagnosis, the Eightfold Path is seen as the prescription remedy. As Ven. Walpola Rahula explains in his book, What the Buddha Taught the Eightfold Path can be group into three categories:
- Wisdom:
- Right View
- Right Intention
- Ethical Conduct:
- Right Speech
- Right Action
- Right Livelihood
- Mental Concentration:
- Right Effort
- Right Mindfulness
- Right Concentration
Ultimately, the Buddhist path is a careful balance of the Eightfold Path, and thus a careful balance of Wisdom, Conduct and Mental Concentration. When people go to learn Buddhist meditation solely to help themselves relax, it’s like eating bread all the time and no vegetables. Don’t let any teacher tell you different. This is backed up by Buddhist texts across many traditions, and if a teacher isn’t providing a balanced “meal” of these three aspects of the Buddhist Path, start looking elsewhere. Also, make sure the teacher actually follows what they teach (re: ethical conduct). I believe that if there’s smoke there’s fire, and if a teacher has a bad reputation, or does something that makes you uneasy, no matter how they or the disciples try to justify it, it’s probably a big warning sign. On the other hand, a teacher who genuinely embodies the Buddhist teachings doesn’t need a fancy title, robes or expensive retreats or seminars; a genuine teacher is pretty self-evident when you encounter one.
Anyway, to really get the most out of Buddhism, one practices ‘mental concentration’ as part of a balanced approach. The term ‘mental concentration’ refers to any number of practices including the classic seated meditation people know from the Zen tradition or the Theravada one. This is a practice of mindfulness. In other words, developing a better awareness of what you are thinking and doing right now. This is not, not, NOT a practice of emptying your mind, as some would contend. Instead, it’s breaking the endless train of thoughts that dance in our heads and instead simply being more aware. What we often don’t realize is how often we’re playing the same cycles of thoughts in our head over and over, by virtue of a lifetime of accumulated habit-energy, environmental factors and family upbringing. Many of these thoughts are neurotic, selfish or just plain silly, and rarely accord with life as it is.
But like a fish in water, we don’t know we’re doing it because we’re constantly immersed in this mode of half-alert living. It’s not until we sit quietly and settle our minds down while developing deeper awareness of ourselves that we begin to see these thoughts, like a fish that is out of the water for a time. Only then can you begin to understand what water is like.
But again, and I can’t stress this enough, the solution is not to get rid of such thoughts. You can’t. Too much habit energy, simple biology, and everything else will keep that from happening, but you don’t have to be a slave to them either. This is where Buddhism becomes very powerful.
When one practices meditation and mental concentration as a whole, it settles the mind, like a mountain that isn’t toppled over even by a strong windstorm. The mountain just doesn’t move no matter what season. In Ven. Thich Nhat Hanh’s classic, The Miracle of Mindfulness, he uses the analogy of a pebble being tossed into a river. It sinks and sinks until it settles onto the riverbed and settles down. When one meditates and practices mental concentration, whether that be a particular Buddhist chant or walking meditation or whatever, the mind settles in the same way, no longer easily perturbed by Life’s ups and downs. One does NOT become an unfeeling robot, quite the opposite. Instead, because one also has wisdom and ethical conduct, they develop a greater sense of compassion and goodwill toward others. If someone gets mad at you, you are not so easily bothered by it, and can return the act with kindness instead of a knee-jerk reaction by yelling back. You create less grief for yourself and others in the long-run.
Meditation and practices toward mental concentration also bring about another benefit: giving the mind a rest. Because we are constantly bombarded with external and internal experiences, things we like and want, things we’re repulsed by, it exhausts the mind, so meditation is a way to draw inward for a time and let the mind settle. Imagine a nest of hornets. If you kick and prod the nest of hornets, it gets very agitated and riled up, and that’s what happens day after day with the experiences of life, both good and bad. Of course, things that are “bad” upset us and make us restless, but so do the things we like. They get us excited and we obsess over them, especially when we want more and exhaust ourselves in the process. So meditation is simply a way to take a break from they day, and just pull the mind back to here and now and let it settle like the metaphorical pebble dropped in the river.
But again, I want to re-emphasize that meditation works best when you balance it with wisdom and ethical conduct. All three aspects bolster one another. Meditation doesn’t work if you have nagging guilt, or agitation from something you did you know was wrong, and one cannot practice good ethical living if their minds are shaky and easily pulled along by the things they love and hate. Meditation helps train us to avoid bad habits that we reflexively do without often realizing it.
As far as how and where to get started, I suggest checking out a reputable Buddhist temple in your area if you can. Online communities or going it alone can work to some degree, but I would argue that as humans, we need physical interaction with people most, and it’s more wholesome this way. If you can’t visit a community often, visit at least enough to get the hang of it, then practice at home, checking in periodically to stay in touch at least.
So that’s a brief look at meditation in Buddhism.
Namo tassa bhagavato, arahato,
samma-sambuddhasa
Hello, this blog is about my life as a father, Buddhist and Japanophile / Koreaphile. Any useful information I can pass along will hopefully make the 
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