"We are rather like whirlpools in the river of life.
In flowing forward, a
river or stream may hit rocks, branches, or irregularities in the ground,
causing whirlpools to spring up spontaneously here and there. Water entering one
whirlpool quickly passes through and re-joins the river, eventually joining
another whirlpool and moving on. Though for short periods it seems to be
distinguishable as a separate event, the water in the whirlpools is just the
river itself.
The stability of a whirlpool is only temporary. The energy of the
river of life forms living things---a human being, a cat or dog, trees and
plants—then what held the whirlpool in place is itself altered, and the
whirlpool is swept away, re-entering the larger flow. The energy that was a
particular whirlpool fades out and the water passes on, perhaps to be caught
again and turned for a moment into another whirlpool.
We’d rather not think for our lives in this way, however. We don’t want to
see ourselves as simply a temporary formation, a whirlpool in the river of life.
The fact is, we take form for a while; then when conditions are appropriate, we
fade out.
There’s nothing wrong with the fading out; it’s a natural part of the
process. However, we want to think that this little whirlpool that we are isn’t
part of the stream. We want to see ourselves as permanent and stable.
Our whole
energy goes into trying to protect our supposed separateness.
To protect the
separateness, we set up artificial, fixed boundaries; as a consequence, we
accumulate excess, baggage, stuff that slips into our whirlpool and can’t flow
out again. So things clog up our whirlpool and the process gets messy. The
stream needs to flow naturally and freely.
If our particular whirlpool is all
bogged down, we also impair the energy of the stream itself. It can’t go
anywhere. Neighboring whirlpools may get less water because of our frantic
holding on. What we can best do for ourselves and for life is to keep the water
in our whirlpool rushing and clear so that it is just flowing in and flowing
out.
We serve other whirlpools best if the water that enters ours is free to
rush through and move on easily and quickly to whatever else needs to be
stirred.
The energy of life seeks rapid transformation. If we can see life this
way and not cling to anything, life simply comes and goes. When debris flows
into our little whirlpool, if the flow is even and strong, the debris rushes
around for while and then goes on its way.
Yet that’s not how we live our lives.
Not seeing that we are simply a whirlpool in the river of the universe, we view
ourselves as separate entities, needing to protect our boundaries. The very
judgement, “I feel hurt” establishes a boundary, by naming an “I” that demands
to be protected. Whenever trash floats into our whirlpool, we make great efforts
to avoid it, to expel it, or to somehow to control it.
Ninety percent of a typical human life is spent trying to put boundaries
around the whirlpool. We’re constantly on guard; “He might hurt me”. “This may
go wrong”. “I don’t like him anyway”. This is a complete misuse of our life
function; yet we all do it to some degree.
Financial worries reflect our struggle to maintain fixed boundaries. We
don’t want anything to threaten our money supply. We all think it would be a
terrible thing. By being protective and anxious, clinging to our assets, we clog
up our lives. Water that should be rushing in and out, so it can serve, becomes
stagnant. A whirlpool that puts up a dam around itself and shuts itself off from
the river becomes stagnant and loses its vitality.
Practice is about no longer
being caught in the particular, and instead seeing it for what it is—a part of
the whole. Yet we spend most of our energies creating stagnant water. That’s what
living in fear will do.
The fear exists because the whirlpool doesn’t understand
what it is—none other than the stream itself. Until we get an inkling of that
truth, all of our energies go in the wrong direction. We create many stagnant
pools, which breed contamination and disease. Pools seeking to dam themselves
for protection begin to contend with one another. “Your smelly, I don’t like
you”. Stagnant pools cause a lot of trouble. The freshness of life is
gone.
Zen practice helps us to see how we have created stagnation in our lives.
“Have I always been so angry, and just never noticed it?”. So our first
discovery in practice is to recognize our own stagnation, created by our
self-centered thoughts.
The biggest problems are created by attitudes we cannot
see in ourselves. Unacknowledged depression, fear and anger create rigidity.
When we recognize the rigidity and the stagnation, the water begins to flow
again, bit by bit. So the most vital part of practice is to be willing to be
life itself----which is simply the incoming sensations---that which creates our
whirlpool."
Joko Beck
Roshi of the San Diego Zen Centre
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