What do zen chan and dhyana mean




















Zen Buddhism is an ancient Japanese school of thought believed to have derived from Mahayana Buddhism. It is based more on meditation, intuition and is considered as a way of life than a set pattern of prayer or religion. Zen philosophy travelled to Japan via China, but its home of origin remains India. And so in this contemporary time, Indian saint and Ram Charita Manas Kathakar Morari Bapu travelled to Kyoto, Japan to once again discuss and deliberate on the notion and philosophy of Zen in a context that is intrinsically linked to Indian thought.

Sahajta naturalness is a basic characteristic of Zen. It means behaviour that is not doctored, but flows with ease of being. Imagine our surprise, when we were ushered into a large but modest office room, to be received by a distinguished looking Japanese gentleman, dressed in a dapper Western suit. He was accompanied by his wife, an elegant lady also dressed in Western clothes. I thought, perhaps, these were the advance guard and that the Roshi himself would appear later.

But then the gentleman extended his hand to welcome us in fluent English and identified himself as Yamada Roshi, the very object of our mission. Yamada Roshi and his wife were extremely warm and welcoming. The master had an animated conversation with our audit team leader, explaining to him some finer points of the Zen tradition.

I hardly remember anything of that conversation. But soon the meeting came to an end. My companion bent low to receive the blessings of the Roshi. I maintained an amused distance from this scene. But what stuck in my memory was what the Roshi said to us, that he was honoured that a son of the land that gave birth to Lord Buddha had come to him to seek wisdom.

He said I might find it interesting. He added that he had a traditional zendo or meditation hall in Kamakura, whose address he gave me, where I was welcome any second Saturday of the month, to see for myself what Zen meditation was all about. I made some polite noises about availing of his kind invitation and then promptly forgot about it. The audit team was kind, the danger was past and all was well with the world.

It was a couple of months later that I chanced upon the book Yamada Roshi had gifted to me while looking for something to read on a lazy weekend. And what I read was both familiar as well as novel, and my curiosity was fully aroused. Next weekend, in the middle of the month, I took a train early in the morning to Kamakura, and after a few wrong turns, found the Zen hall, called San-un-Zendo, in one of the narrow lanes in the old part of town.

It was a quaint old Japanese style wooden building with a small pebble-strewn garden in front. As I opened the gate and went in, I was face to face with a smallish hall, open to the outside, where some 10 people were sitting in two rows on the floor, on cushions, cross-legged, deep in meditation.

There was an old gentleman, dressed in traditional Japanese clothes, holding a small stick like a ruler in his hand, quietly walking up and down between the two rows of Zen practitioners. When he saw me, he motioned to me that I should take my shoes off and enter. When I did, he pointed to an empty cushion and asked me to sit down and join the others in meditation.

He thought I was one of the pupils and had come late. Since silence had to be maintained, I was unable to explain that I had come not to meditate but to meet Yamada Roshi. The next ten minutes, until the session ended for a short break, I was in a state of panic. I tried to imitate my neighbour next to me and keep my eyes closed. I soon felt a gentle tap on my shoulder when the teacher used his short stick as if to prod me. This seems to have disturbed some of fellow practitioners who looked somewhat quizzically at me.

When the session was over and we all stood up, the teacher came up to me and asked if I was a newcomer. I said I had come to meet Yamada Roshi. He then realised what had happened and laughed. He welcomed me with a smile and asked me to sit down on another cushion, facing him. When we were alone, he asked why I had decided to come. I answered that I just happened to read the book he had given me and became curious and interested and, therefore, decided to pay a visit.

I also related my recent embarrassing experience in the zendo below, apologising for disturbing the very solemn proceedings. Yamada Roshi seemed amused. He again welcomed me and added that he had been expecting me. I found this intriguing and even somewhat far-fetched. I then narrated to him the series of coincidences that had brought me to his zendo. Yamada Roshi dismissed the idea that our encounter had been only a coincidence. He then proceeded to explain that unlike in other systems where spiritual evolution is seen as a progressive abstraction or withdrawal from the phenomenal world, Zen enables its practitioners to incorporate spirituality in everyday life, benefiting oneself as also those around us.

It is this experience that Zen practitioners seek to recreate, each for himself. The Roshi asked me whether, having briefly experienced the practice of Zen at the zendo, I would wish to be initiated and continue the practice. I nodded and soon found myself back at the zendo below, where the teacher instructed me in some of the basic exercises, and later in future sessions took me through six initiatory lectures as well as more complex breathing and meditation exercises.

This may appear strained at first, but then it becomes, fairly soon, within a couple of weeks, quite natural and comfortable. It ensures that one remains aware of the world around us even while seeking a calmness of spirit.

The breathing exercises are simple. One begins with breathing in and out in cycles of 10, consciously slowing down the count. Keeping the count is the first exercise in concentration. The mind inevitably wanders off in the middle of the count. One needs to gently bring it back and start again.

One should accept it as natural that the mind will wander. After a period of practice, it will wander less and less. What you think, you become. If you can control your mind, you can dictate the course of your life. What you imagine, you create. We love this powerful quote as it reminds us that we are in charge of our lives. When you allow negative thoughts about yourself and your life to build up, you start to project these thoughts out into the world.

Buddhism pursues happiness by using knowledge and practice to achieve mental equanimity. So by achieving a mental state where you can detach from all the passions, needs and wants of life, you free yourself and achieve a state of transcendent bliss and well-being. All Japanese Kamakura sects of Buddhism Zen, Nichiren, Jodo have relaxed Mahayana vinaya, and as a consequence, vegetarianism is optional. Theravada Monks and nuns traditionally feed themselves by gathering alms, and generally must eat whatever foods are given to them, including meat.

Buddhism is very flexible to these kinds of things. The Buddha actually prohibited vegetarianism amongst monastics. This was the heresy of his cousin and brother in law Devadatta.

As long as the animal is not killed by you, at your request, or for you specifically, eating meat is ok with the Buddha. Begin typing your search term above and press enter to search. Press ESC to cancel.

Chan, W. Concentration, illumination, illumination forgotten: Three levels of Chan meditation. In Does no-thought mean no thought? Buddhadharma, Summer , 50— Google Scholar. Huihu, Dharma Dictionary. Buddhadharma, Spring , Illusive thoughts, attachment and enlightenment In Chinese. Buddhist Compassion , , 46—



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