Renewal
by Neal Griebling

With my term as President of the Stillpoint Board of Directors drawing to an end, I've decided to take a sabbatical to pursue some personal objectives. I thought it fitting to share my thoughts with you at this time. It's hard for me to realize it's been almost a decade since Barry Lavery and I began sitting together and decided to offer an environment for Zen practice in Pittsburgh.

Working with one another, I feel we have accomplished a great deal. We have a formal structure as a Buddhist church, recognized as such by the Internal Revenue Service. We have a board of directors to create policy and lead the organization into the future. We have a base from which to proceed.

Stillpoint offers a rich schedule of activities, morning and evening sitting throughout the week, monthly day-long retreats, ongoing discussions of contemporary and classical Buddhist texts, weekend retreats led by some of the finest teachers in America, formal precepts ceremonies, and numerous opportunities for informal socializing. The organization offers a library of print, audio and video resources and publishes a quarterly newsletter. Quite a broad repertoire for a sangha that must ultimately rely on its lay members for planning and managing its affairs!

While we have undergone many changes, the core of Stillpoint remains our sitting practice. Zazen provides us with the spiritual nourishment that has enabled us to transcend individual differences and continue as a true community of committed practitioners. People who have joined us for retreats or other activities frequently mention a sincerity of spirit they find at Stillpoint. As you might imagine, I am very pleased whenever I encounter such a reaction!

As I'm sure you know, a sabbatical refers to a leave of absence taken for study, rest or travel. I will be doing all of these things in the year 2000. Accordingly, I will be absent much of this time from Stillpoint.

In the spring of 1999, I left my position with an area health system to launch my own consulting practice. I am currently offering planning and development services to nonprofit organizations and small businesses. My new business needs my attention.

I have taken up the study of two Japanese psychological models, Morita and Naikan therapy, which I hope to assimilate into my own life so that, in time, I might teach the principles they embody and guide others. I am serving as a volunteer with a local hospice, working with the dying and their families. My hospice work is being integrated into formal study with Diane Martin, the head teacher of the Udumbara Zen Center in Evanston, Ill., through whom I hope to secure certification as a Buddhist chaplain.

I look forward to the challenges ahead. Stillpoint has been an integral part of my life since its inception and I have tried to give as much as I could. Yet I have received far more in return.

As Buddhists we experience the reality of change and confront both the challenges and opportunities it offers. Stillpoint faces many challenges in the years ahead. The care and feeding of any organization is not the most glamorous work; indeed, it is often dull routine. Nothing special. Organizations, however, cannot survive, much less prosper, without this "nothing special" activity and Stillpoint is no exception.

We take care of what we care about. I hope the support you have experienced through Stillpoint will prompt you to continue to nurture and sustain our community in the months and years to come. Best wishes to all of you.

Sangha News

PRACTICE SCHEDULE: We sit weekday mornings, Monday through Friday, beginning at 7:00 a.m. For schedule changes of morning sittings, please check with Barbara LeBeau at (412) 422-3456 for specific information.
MORNING SITTINGS 9:30 a.m. Sunday, 7 a.m. Monday thru Friday
EVENING SITTINGS 7:00 p.m. Tuesday, 6:30 p.m. Wednesday, 8:00 p.m. Sunday & Friday

Upcoming Sesshin Schedule: Sangha-led sesshin are generally held the 4th Saturday of the month. Please contact Don Orr at (412) 366-4268 for details.
The next quarterly retreat will be led by Rev. Shohaku Okumura and will be held at St. Paul's Monastery in the South Side area of Pittsburgh on April 7-9, 2000. The facility can accommodate overnight stays on Friday and Saturday night for those who wish to deepen their retreat experience. Tim Kennedy and Don Orr are organizing the retreat and will be mailing more detailed information and application forms to the membership and friends of Stillpoint during March. This is a great opportunity for practice and we encourage you to join us.

Note: Please arrive at least 10 minutes early as we begin zazen promptly at the scheduled times. Latecomers are urged to remain in the foyer until a round of zazen has been completed. Newcomers are asked to schedule an orientation with a senior member before attending a scheduled sitting.

BOARD CHANGES: The Stillpoint board has new officers. They are: Tim Kennedy, president Don Orr, vice president Barbara Lebeau, secretary Beverly Griebling, treasurer Mike Usman, assistant treasurer Adrian McCoy, assistant secretary A slate of six board members was reelected to serve a second two-year term. They are Catherine Gammon, Beverly Griebling, Jay Hershey, Tim Kennedy, Angus McDonald and Don Orr.

COMMUNITY MEETING: The January 16 community meeting sparked dialogue about where we would like to see Stillpoint going in terms of its vision and future. Four key areas were given to the board to explore as they begin to craft a vision of the future:
• The sangha should grow in numbers in order to sustain its growth and evolution as an organization.
• Exploring the possibility of getting a permanent space for Stillpoint.
• Finding ways to make new members feel welcome and to encourage them to continue sitting with the sangha.
• Developing community service practice.

Thanks to Jay Hershey for putting up the display of art work in the zendo foyer and for instituting tea service following Wednesday night sittings.

Aiming at No Target Sitting in the Midst of Contradictions
Second in a Two-Part Lecture by Shohaku Okumura

When our discriminating mind tries to understand what zazen is or is "good" for, then zazen becomes the object and we become the subject. If we look at it that way, then we are already thinking. That is really a problem. In zazen, there is no self-observation and no self-evaluation. We need to go beyond this subject-and-object dichotomy.

In "Opening the Hand of Thought," Kosho Uchiyama Roshi writes: "When we actually do zazen, we should be neither sleeping nor caught up in our own thought. We should be wide-awake -aiming at the correct posture with our flesh and bones. Can we ever attain this? Is there such a thing as succeeding or hitting the mark? This is where zazen becomes unfathomable." We cannot measure or observe it. We cannot say: "My zazen is getting better." If we say it that way, we are already thinking, it's not zazen. It's the same as when we are sleeping. We sleep almost one third of our life, and yet we cannot say, "I am asleep." We can say, "I want to sleep" or "I'm sleepy." If I say I'm sleeping, I'm not sleeping. Zazen is the same thing.

Uchiyama Roshi writes: "In zazen, we have to vividly aim at the correct posture, yet there is never a mark to hit. Or at any rate, the person who is doing zazen should never perceive whether he has hit the mark or not." If we perceive it, we're already thinking and we're already off the mark. When we are hitting the mark, there is no perception. We are just sitting.

Uchiyama Roshi says, "If the person doing zazen thinks he is really getting good or that he has hit the mark, he's merely thinking his zazen is good, while actually, he has become separated from the reality of his zazen." Yet that is what we all want to do. We want to make sure we are in the correct zazen. We want to make sure this is good for me, that this practice is meaningful for my life. Unless we believe it or think this way, it's really difficult to practice zazen. So before we sit, we have to really try to understand this point.

Uchiyama Roshi says that when we have a target we can aim. But if we know that there isn't a target, who is going to attempt to aim? I think all of us know why we have to sit, just aiming without hitting the target. It is because the person hitting and the target are the same thing.

This is not only true in zazen. Say we are running. The action of running and the person running is one thing. What can zazen be unless it is this person? This person is zazen itself. And what is zazen unless it is this person sitting? Zazen and the person sitting really is one thing. There is no separation. But when we explain it, we have to say I am "doing" zazen. In that case, there's a concept of we and a concept of action-zazen or sitting. But in actuality, there's no action without this person and no person without this action.

Our zazen is based on the essential philosophy of Mahayana Buddhism-that is, emptiness. Emptiness means no self and no other. Everything is connected as one thing. All beings are connected to each other. All beings interpenetrate each other. There's no separation between subject and object, particularly in our zazen. The subject is this person, and the object is also this person.

We practice zazen with this body and mind, but we can't practice zazen if we don't think about sitting. We are here because we want to sit, and we think sitting is good. I came from Minnesota to sit together with you, and the reason why I'm here is I think zazen is good for me to practice. Without thinking we can't take any action, but once we make up our mind we should do our action with moment by moment awareness.

There is a Zen expression: "Break through the bottom of the bucket." In zazen, the bottom of our thinking drops out. It's like a ladle of water running through a strainer. We have to break through the bottom of the bucket, and yet, according to Uchiyama Roshi, zazen is not a method to break through to anything. Usually we think it is. We practice in order to attain a certain stage of mind that is free from thinking. If our zazen is a means to break through the bottom of the bucket, then there's a target. That's the problem. That is a common idea in Zen-we have to break through our thinking, and our zazen is a method to do it. If we practice in that way, already there is a target and the basis of our practice is hitting that target-that is to break through our thinking. That is a contradiction. We just sit in the midst of this contradiction, in the correct posture, not thinking and not sleeping.

There's no target, no way we can judge whether we are doing good zazen, there is no way we can make sure if this practice is good for us or not. This is a basic contradiction in our zazen. We just sit in the midst of this contradiction. That is our practice. Although we aim, we can never perceive hitting the mark. We just sit in the midst of this contradiction that is absolutely ridiculous when we think about it with our small minds.

Sawaki Roshi is my teacher's teacher. One of his most famous sayings is "Zazen is good for nothing." It's difficult to sell something that is good for nothing. It's like selling you the air. When we practice this kind of zazen and just sit, how unsatisfied or completely lost we may feel. Our zazen is not an easy thing.

There are many different traditions in Buddhism. The Theravada tradition in Thailand, Burma, and Sri Lanka. The Mahayana schools in China, Korea, Japan and Vietnam, and the Vajrayana Tradition in Tibet. Each school has its own approach to meditation, and what it means to practice meditation. In Buddhism, skillful means are important. Those different paths are considered to be skillful means to encourage people not to stop practice. Teachers and teachings show a kind of a goal that encourages practice, and when a student reaches that stage, the teacher shows the next goal. That's the way a student practices with encouragement. That's the meaning of stages in Buddhist practice, but Dogen Zenji says our practice is very unique. He doesn't use this kind of skillful means.

If a person is just thrown in the ocean without knowing how to swim, there is no step-by-step instruction. In the midst of the ocean of the Dharma, we have to learn how to swim by ourselves. We have serious problems in each moment when we practice in this way. We always have to be questioning. We always have to inquire about what we are doing, and whether our practice is heading in the right direction or not.

In our practice, the function of the teacher is different from the Rinzai school. In Rinzai, teacher and student sit facing each other and the teacher gives a question, and the student answers. In our practice, the teacher doesn't face the student. Uchiyama Roshi says, "I never face my students and watch them, but I am facing Buddha." And we face Buddha as well. As a practitioner, we have to walk with our own two feet in the same direction our teacher is walking.

In our practice there's no goal, no target to hit. We don't feel safe. But Uchiyama Roshi says this is the most important and wonderful part of our practice. When we are confused, and insecure, that is the best thing: "This small foolish self easily becomes satisfied or complacent. We need to see complacency for what it is-just a continuation of the thoughts of our foolish self." If we feel satisfied, we should question whether we are doing the right thing or not. When we are doing things based on my thinking, my desire, and even if our desire is desire to be enlightened, to be free from our egocentricity, from ourselves, there's a basic contradiction. This desire or aspiration which makes us practice is in a sense an obstruction in our practice. The goal of Buddhist practice is to be free from ego. Our desire to be free from ego comes out of ego. That is a problem. How we can go beyond this desire even to become Buddha?

This is really an essential point in our practice. Dogen Zenji said we should give up even the aspiration to become Buddha in our zazen. And this is the meaning of just sitting. When we practice in this way, just aiming at and letting go even of the aspiration to be enlightened, then Buddhahood is there. When we are actually doing that letting go, then Buddha nature is truly revealed. When we give up our gaining mind, then our true life force arises and is actualized.

He concludes by saying: "It is precisely at the point where our small foolish self remains unsatisfied, or completely bewildered, that the immeasurable natural life beyond the thought of that self functions. It is precisely at the point where we become completely lost that life operates and the power of Buddha is actualized."

This is a really important point. Keep this in your mind, when you practice or whenever you read Buddhist texts. Then you will find out what this means. And please don't think about this when you sit.

The Point of Being Still
by Don Dozan Orr

We sit facing the wall, just sitting, breathing and trying to let go of all thoughts. This is our practice. If you enter the zendo during a sitting session, you see the still figures of people doing zazen. Stillness. Visitors to our zendo are given a short simple orientation, and a central part of the instruction is that one should try to remain as still as possible.

When I stayed at Zen Mountain Monastery in Mount Tremper, N.Y., this past summer, the monk in charge of running the zendo was emphatic about being completely still during zazen. In fact, he said that it was the one factor that they insisted upon. Indeed, many a time during zazen, he or one of the monitors would call out, admonishing someone about keeping still. Why this preoccupation with physical stillness?

When I first started zen practice, my understanding of the need for being still was quite simple. As a matter of courtesy to other sitters, you had to be mindful that your movement could be a distraction to the other person; so all movement, if there was to be any at all, had to be as unobtrusive as possible. When I sat at home alone, I did not feel the same constraints on movement as I did in the zendo. I suppose I shifted on my cushion many a time.

My understanding is now a little different. The need to move comes from the mind reacting to messages from parts of our body. You are all familiar with them. The aching knee, the itch on your nose, the crick in your neck, the slumping shoulders, you name it. Just as a thought enters our awareness and demands our attention, so do these body messages, sometimes in a very intense manner. However, attending to them is similar to chasing a seductive thought - part of an endless series of phenomena that distract us from our zazen posture.

As Shohaku-sensee has frequently reminded us, doing zazen is about a constant returning to the proper posture of zazen, where we drop off body and mind and realize our true nature. Each act of the will to return to our posture is an act of repentance, of atonement. Now when I sit at home, though I may be physically alone, I try not to lose sight of the reality that zazen knows no boundaries in time and space, and when I return to the still and proper posture of my zazen, the whole world awakens. I try to be as still as I can.