UnMind 76. Problem & Solution — Atlanta Soto Zen Center

SUBSCRIBE TO UNMIND:

RSS FEED | APPLE PODCASTS | GOOGLE PODCASTS | SPOTIFY

What is the problem?
Is there a real solution?
We have a method.

Last episode we promised a closer look at what we mean by “the problem,” and suggested that you might take another look at what you would define as your particular case example. What did you come up with? While it is true that the fundamental problem of existence is a shape-shifter, it seems to cycle through permutations back to its original form. Its iterations turn out to be variations on a theme.

One of the problems in writing is that we take the words we use for granted. A handy method for taking a look at them in greater depth is by referring to the universal definitive tool, the humble dictionary. This is not in itself a solution, of course. How each case is resolved depends upon the writer using the tool.

“Problem” is a word we use so often and so broadly that it becomes almost meaningless, if unexamined. You may have heard the expression, “The unexamined life is not worth living.” If you are like me you do not know whence it came. Another ubiquitous tool we have available today, much like a massively expanded dictionary, or its bigger sibling the encyclopedia, is Google. The generic for any search engine, having taken first position in the category some time ago. Like Kleenex is for facial tissue. Or Xerox once was for copiers. Looking it up, or “googling” it (which has become so vernacular that the word processor does not underline it in red), it turns out to be the coinage of Socrates. The very first entry on the internet “page” (incidentally defined as “one side of a sheet of paper” irony not lost on me) states that “Socrates believed that living a life where you live under the rules of others, in a continuous routine without examining what you actually want out of it is not worth living.”

It is worth noting that Socrates specifying “living under the rules of others… in a continuous routine” as aggravating conditions of the unexamined life, probably reflects his assessment of actual fellow citizens. These are the definitive characteristics of a state of slavery, which was widely practiced in ancient Greece. Googling further, we find that Socrates did indeed inveigh against the practice. Slavery as a societal problem has probably been with us since the dawn of so-called civilization, all the way back to prehistoric times. But that doesn’t make it acceptable, even in its many current disguises.

Getting back to the thread of this episode, a problem is generically defined as “a matter or situation regarded as unwelcome or harmful and needing to be dealt with and overcome; a thing that is difficult to achieve or accomplish.” Or, as a modifier: “denoting or relating to people whose behavior causes difficulties to themselves and others.” And, as specifically related to physics and mathematics: “an inquiry starting from given conditions to investigate or demonstrate a fact, result, or law.” And more specifically to geometry: “a proposition in which something has to be constructed.”

A term’s etymology often sheds an interesting light on its original meanings. “Problem” derives from late Middle English: “originally denoting a riddle or a question for academic discussion.” Even earlier from Old French, via Latin, from the Greek, meaning “put forth” or “to throw before.” Coming full circle back to Socrates.

There’s a lot to unpack here, amplified by connections to Zen and Design disciplines. The “matter or situation” of life itself, as a problem, cannot be considered “unwelcome” exactly, though its salient characteristics as defined by Buddha — aging, sickness, and death — may certainly be regarded as harmful or undesirable to the living. In early Buddhism the Hinayana view of self-salvation regarded human existence as a kind of test “needing to be dealt with and overcome,” as do most religions. In Zen, the test is not simply a pass-fail. And we do not imagine a more perfect world to be found after death.

Design likewise regards certain aspects of human life as unwelcome and harmful, on both personal and social levels. As an application of artful, semi-scientific problem-solving, the definitions related to physics and mathematics may be more apropos. Design proceeds from “an inquiry starting from given conditions” as in science, but is intended “to… demonstrate a… result,” such as a new product or program, rather than to prove a fact or law.

Applied Design usually entails something that “has to be constructed.” In Design, the old must often be demolished to make room for the new and improved. The construction phase in architectural design is often preceded by demolition or “creative destruction.” Likewise in Zen as well. We may justifiably regard zazen practice as a process of actively deconstructing our own mind, to rebuild on a sounder foundation.

Buddhism certainly defines the problem of human existence as “relating to people whose behavior causes difficulties to themselves and to others,” as do most religious and philosophical systems. Zen, however, goes beyond the diagnosis of ignorance afflicting people, to the prognosis of meditation — as the most dependable approach to thoroughly defining the central problem. The natural process of contemplation, not overthinking, reveals potential solutions to life’s problems, in general and in detail. What we learn directly through observation on the cushion can modify our attitude and approach off the cushion, if we allow it to. This amounts to the purposeful actualization of the bodhisattva vow. We are not likely to be able to help others, if we are not even able to help ourselves.

Both Zen and Design encourage us to go beyond conventional definitions of the many problems of life, as well as the pat approaches and existing solutions on offer from others, notably in the “self-help” niche of modern publishing. This “going beyond” was a favorite expression of one of my formative teachers, when a student transcended the parameters of an assigned classroom problem. A most comprehensive example of going beyond is found in Hsinhsinming, Trust in Mind, by Master Sengcan, third patriarch in China. Toward the end he begins to summarize:

Emptiness here emptiness there
but the infinite universe stands always before your eyes
Infinitely large infinitely small
no difference because definitions have vanished and no boundaries are seen

Definitions we may hold for such terms as “emptiness” and “infinity” come into question. We must go beyond them. “No boundaries” is an expression that Matsuoka Roshi used to explain the aspirational aspect of my first dharma name, Great Cloud, in Japanese, Taiun. Like a cloud flying in the sky, “no barriers anywhere.” Of course, every time I turn around, I run into another barrier. So, I have something rather concrete to aspire to, if I am to live up to my Zen name. It is a recurring problem.

The process of innovation in Design, as well as Zen, typically begins with self-study, evaluating our own personal needs and streamlining our efforts to meet them, before addressing similar problems as general conditions of society. This is broadly true of any process of invention. If we solve our personal problems of satisfying Maslow’s hierarchy of physiological needs for food, water, clothing, sleep and shelter, we are in a better position to help others do the same. The airplane oxygen mask syndrome. Same for safety and security. The higher needs of love and belonging, self-esteem and, finally self-actualization, take a little longer, and may require not a little creativity. Maslow may have been a closet Zen master.

It should be possible to aspire to satisfying higher needs while lacking the wherewithal on a subsistence level, you may argue. But this is the stuff of saints. It is not reasonable to expect this level of transcendence over circumstance from others, though you may demand it from yourself.

The Middle English derivation of “problem” as: “denoting a riddle or a question for academic discussion” sounds a lot like the koan practice of Rinzai Zen. But Rinzai himself would push back against the idea that koan training is designed to foster “academic discussion.” The endpoint of koan study is the same as that of zazen in Soto circles: to penetrate beyond the problem as framed, to the mystery at the core of existence. In other words, redefining the core problem.

Putting forth the proposition, or throwing the Great Matter before the assembly in dharma combat, however, is part and parcel of all Zen pedagogy. The question behind the questions put forth in Zen may be reduced to: What is the problem, exactly? And we are back, full circle, to problem definition.

Interchanges between masters and students as recorded in the Buddhist lineage often comprise the content of classic koan collections. But rather than functioning as a simple Q&A, where one party knows the answer and the other keeps trying until finally getting it right, these dialogs may more usefully be regarded as collaborative exercises in defining and redefining the fundamental problem in Zen. The student’s response to the probe posed by the master redefines the meaning of the exchange, furthering the dialog rather than bringing it to a conclusion. As Matsuoka Roshi would often say, “We teach each other Buddhism.” And what we are trying to grasp is “round and rolling, slippery and slick.” Ungraspable.

We might say that the Zen Problem, capital P, and the internal processes leading to its Solution, capital S, are not fundamentally different, whether the approach is Rinzai or Soto. Both are pointing at the same insight, while recognizing that such insight will necessarily be different for each individual. The external methodology is where we find the most obvious differences. Like any subject of education, the end result may be equally accurate and useful, but different schools stress differing methods in getting from here to there. But as Master Tozan says in Hokyo Zammai, Precious Mirror Samadhi:

Whether teachings and approaches are mastered or not, reality constantly flows

This constantly flowing reality is captured in glowing terms by the ancestors of Zen in their poems of enlightenment, which we recite as liturgy. The implication is that the solution to the problem of existence in Zen comes not as an intellectual conclusion or mathematical formula, but as revelatory manifestation, an alteration in consciousness itself. Nothing actually changes, but everything is completely changed.

In our next episode we will focus more specifically on the method leading to the solution, the approach Zen prescribes to foster this change in awareness and attitude, and some of the techniques and subroutines that we find helpful. As a pedagogy, zazen has been refined over centuries and redesigned by hundreds of skillful masters in the lineage. We are fortunate to be the heirs of this model of simplicity directed toward defining and solving the most complex problem of all.