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the arc of language: from silence to expression

Updated: 2 days ago



za-zoom chat: May 23, 2025


summary of discussion:


This za-zoom session, led by Hamid, delved into the relationship between Zen practice, language, koans and silence. Hamid's talk (missing the initial 3-4 minutes) gave some introductory remarks about the Koan tradition, emphasizing Master Dogen's unique approach of working with them. Koans are not intellectual puzzles or riddles that one solves with one's thinking but tools for direct experience, meant to arrest discursive thought. He highlighted Dogen's view that true realization is inseparable from the expression of realization, challenging the notion that language is solely a limitation when it comes to conveying ultimate reality. The discussion touched upon the "unmediated" nature of answers to koans, sometimes arising from the body or through non-verbal gestures or even through shouts.


Key themes included the duality inherent in conventional language (subject-object), and how Zen seeks to point beyond this. The famous koan of Buddha claiming "never to have said a word" after 49 years of teaching was presented, alongside the story of Vimalakīrti's "thunderous silence" as a powerful expression of śūnyatā (emptiness). Hamid contrasted this with Dogen's emphasis on "effortless language" – an expression arising from a liberated mind, not bound by conceptual thinking. The group discussion further explored poetry, music, and body language as potential universal modes of communication, and the creative process as a space "beyond thinking." The session concluded with an invitation to reflect on the nature of Buddha's "non-preaching" and Dogen's nuanced view of language as an indispensable part of the path to awakening.

 

Hamid's talk: (The first 3-4 minutes of this talk were not recorded.)

...understanding as we usually have a sense of that word.


[ The talk begins with a word that is now missing and was followed by other words that are also lost. The cut while involuntary leaves us with a sense of erasure. The talk for those who are reading the transcript and were not present starts with a gap. that gap points, speaks silently, about the missing or missed beginning/s. Speech: and what if there never was a beginning but only gaps, blanks, empty spaces that we attempt to inhabit by filling them with words? A rupture in the continuity of discourse. Could it be that it's from this space of discontinuity of language that koans invite us to engage with them? ]


That's also where you have the Koan tradition, which is a rich tradition developed in China and then passed on to Japan and Korea, of which Master Dogen was deeply immersed in. And even if he was a proponent of Shikantaza, the practice of just sitting, he never failed to bring up koans throughout his writings. In his writings Master Dogen takes up the koans, fleshes them out and uses them as teaching devices or interprets them, or reinterprets them.


So, in the Koan tradition, the koan that is given for the student's meditation, contemplation, or reflection by a teacher, as master, is not about her or him trying to figure something out. But the koan and single-mindedly engaging with the koan is meant to arrest the train of discursive thinking. That is what the mind usually does. So, at one moment, the mind hits a wall, the intellect hits a wall, and it's no longer able to function and operate in the way it usually does wh.ich is to add thought to thought.


And maybe in those moments, when the mind is no longer able to open to what the koan is trying to say, then maybe from a deeper place, from the whole being, from the body, an answer emerges that then the teacher may accept. Which is why the answer to some of the koans is more through a gesture, through a pointing, something physical, something that's unmediated by the process of thinking, that the master may validate someone's understanding. So, rarely does the master come and validate someone who has thought through the koan, no matter how deep their understanding may be for it comes from the intellect and you can't take away wanting to be clever away from the intellect. The teacher wants to take them out of that process of reliance on discursive and discriminative thinking to allow them to perceive reality in a different way.


And also, for example, when some, some of the more celebrated koans, if we look at them, what the question is and what the answer to that question is, it seems there is no direct correspondence, the approach is not rational. A student may ask a question about the teachings and the master may ask, "Have you had your breakfast?" And then if you say "Yes," and they say, "Well, go and wash your bowl." That's the answer to what are the teachings of Buddhism. Or another, "Why did Bodhidharma, the figure I just mentioned, come from the East to the West?" And the master, Master Joshu, answers, "The cypress tree in the garden." That's the answer to that question. So, there is no logical, rational relationship to that, but there's a profound meaning or rather connection that the mind cannot apprehend. He's pointing to something that's beyond the scope of what the question is seeking, but it's embedded somehow in the question, yet surpasses it.


Now, to point this out that what is difficult in language is not language in itself, but how it's used, which is using subject that addresses an object, object of one's own thinking or objects outside of one's own mind and thought. So, already we have a sense of separation between these two. You call that duality. Now the heart of the teachings, in some way, points to what is beyond this duality between subject and object, the me and the you, the here and the there, to a place before the emergence of this dualistic thinking, or to a place when this dualistic thinking has ceased operating. So, you can use language to then surpass or go beyond language. Or, you can just point to what cannot be uttered, what cannot be spoken of.


In a koan collection that dates back to about a thousand years in China, that was actually part of a book that was published in 1916 in Japan, that for the first time spoke about the 100 most important koans, like you have them in the Blue Cliff Record, or in the Book of Serenity, which is part of the Zen Soto tradition and the other is the Rinzai tradition, where the 48 or 49 Gateless Gate koans, the Mumonkan collection, comes from. And this book provides the koans with the answers which is quite unusual or heretical as it exposes domething thatvwas kept as a secret in the , this book creates a lot of fury in Japan when it's published in 1916. And the book is called Gendai Sōjizen Hyōron, which means "A Critique of Present-Day Pseudo-Zen." Because the person, who was a very accomplished practitioner, meditator, who had gone through the entire koan curriculum, felt that the koans were used in institutionalized Zen in a way that was eviscerated and devitalized of their deeper intent. So, he challenged everybody by giving the answers that are usually thought of, the appropriate answers to the koans. And he published this book.


Now, the last part of this book is the book from which I have taken two of the koans and their answers. And this part of the book published separately is called "Everyday Exposed." And so these are the very first koans, and they are part of what in Zen is referred to as "not-a-word" principle. "Not a word" principle, or what is beyond or after language, or silence.


So, I will read these two koans. They are short, and as they are, they're the answers to them or the commentary to them, by Master Kido, who goes back to the 11th or 12th century. So, the number three of this compilation is said, is the following: "Never said a word."


Before Buddha entered Nirvana, Manju—Manju is the Japanese way of pronouncing Manjushri, the Bodhisattva of great wisdom that you have in the Heart Sutra, he's one of the two major Bodhisattvas along with Bodhisattva Avalokiteśvara, who is the Bodhisattva of compassion, and Manjushri is the Bodhisattva of deep wisdom—before Buddha entered Nirvana, Manju asked him to preach again. So, before Buddha died, literally. Buddha scolded Manju and said, "I have lived in this world for 49 years, and I have never said a word. Now, you ask me to preach again. Do you mean I have preached before?"

So, Master Kido's comment is, "Manju says, Buddha tries to be kind to the very last." And then you have a short comment from Master Hakuin, who was an 18th-century master of Koan tradition in the Rinzai school. He says, Manju said, "Like the lion's roar, fear not a thing."


So, and then you have this commentary. Here it is written as "Plain Saying":

"Buddha preached for 49 years, and before dying said, 'Up till now, I have not said a word.' How much this saying of Buddha's shows his benevolent kindness. This last saying of Buddha's has tormented the minds of the descendants, a torment so disgusting it is enough to make one vomit. But it was out of compassion and pity that Buddha said it. This last saying of Buddha's will never be turned against."


Then there is a note:

"'I have never said a word.' Buddha suggests that his teaching is not to be defined as a doctrine, nor cut apart by abstract reasoning. In taking the place of Manju and thanking Buddha for the kindness of his last words, Master Kido implies that such a view of Buddha and Buddhism is the gist of Zen. The lion's roar may suggest Buddha's power, but it is also the moment of 'no word,' such as in the shout, katsu, that they do in Rinzai Zen as an answer to a koan, or in the beating with the stick. The plain saying suggests how hard it is to truly understand the 'not a word' of Zen Buddhism, and how easily it is misinterpreted and misused."


So, this was the koan number three. And part of this early series of the koans in this book is related to it, koan number four. And the title of this koan is "Preaching."


"Emperor Wu of Liang Dynasty asks Fudashi, a Buddhist layman, to preach the scripture. Fudashi went up to his seat, hit the desk once lightly with the stick, and stepped down. The emperor was taken aback. Later, Shiko, a Buddhist layman, asked the emperor, 'Have you understood?' The emperor said, 'No, I do not understand.' Shiko said, 'Fudashi has finished his preaching.'"

Master Kido comments: "Emperor Wu says, 'It is really something rarely heard of.'" And Master Hakuin's comment is: "To retreat three steps and give a bow of thanks."

The other commentary, "Plain Saying," says:

"I am deeply grateful to the compassionate heart which gave me the privilege of hearing the never-heard-up-till-now Buddhist law."Note: "The 'not a word' principle, which is implied in koans one to three, is demonstrated here in its concreteness. The emperor expects words and instead gets the sound of the stick. In his comment, Kido implies that it is in this moment that the emperor should reach understanding. Hakuin's substitute phrase and plain saying only echoes Kido's comment."

So, this is about the teachings of "no word" Zen.


Now, you have in the Lotus Sutra, which is a compilation by, through the teachings of the layman Vimalakīrti. This is in the years, in the century one to three of our era. So, it goes back to nearly 2,000 years ago, 500 years after the passing of Buddha. And it's called "Vimalakīrti's Thunderous Silence."

So, Vimalakīrti, who was a layman—he was not a priest, he was not a monk, he was not ordained—but it seems that in the Mahayana Buddhist tradition, his display and depth of understanding and wisdom was unparalleled. So, one day, he uses an upāya, which is called a skillful means, and pretends that he is ill. And in a tiny room, as if by magic, hundreds of Bodhisattvas gather to pay a visit to the sick Vimalakīrti. Once they are there, Vimalakīrti asks them each to expound their understanding about the principle of śūnyatā.[Child's voice in background]I'm sorry, a second, please.[Pause]Sorry for that. So, he asked all these Bodhisattvas to explain what is the understanding of śūnyatā, emptiness, or non-duality of form and emptiness, or the non-duality of saṃsāra and nirvāṇa. Now, all of them give a verbal expression of their understanding.


Manjushri, the same Bodhisattva that is emblematic of wisdom in Buddhism, once all of the Bodhisattvas have given their explanation or their understanding, turns to Vimalakīrti and says, "Can you now expound what the teachings of emptiness are?" And in that moment, Vimalakīrti keeps silence. And his silence is recorded as the "thunderous silence," which means the silence that cuts through all discursive thinking. So, in this silence, what he's showing is the ineffable nature or unspeakable nature of ultimate reality. So, through that, he shows that language is limited to be an ultimate way of expressing the deepest spiritual truths. We use language, but there is this inherent limitation in language for the reasons that we mentioned earlier on.


Now, this is the standard understanding in Mahayana Buddhism about the limitations of language, until it reaches Master Dogen, who in the 13th century, makes of expression—hence the use of language—an indispensable part of conveying and also experiencing one's deeper spiritual understanding and awakening. But he speaks about a language that is "effortless," which means it's a language that is not used by the mind that thinks through concepts and analysis. It's a direct language. But so, Master Dogen then takes language and elevates it and gives it a realizational dimension that language did not have. Because silence was understood to supersede language. And that seems something Master Dogen is in some way showing another way of understanding. That it's not language per se, but it's the way we use language that is deficient. But language can and must be a way that we use to express our understanding.

So, this is something that I wanted to share with you about the use of words, silence, and language through these koans and the Vimalakīrti Sutra. Now, if this brings up any questions or any comments or any reflections… I'm not sure you're able to hear me anymore right now because there is… [Sound of storm intensifies] …there was the thunderous silence of Vimalakīrti, but now there's this thunderous sound of the storm that I am hearing. So… And it's deafening as was the silence of Vimalakīrti. So, I am going to be silent now. Please go ahead.



group discussion:


Sharon: ...through thought or analytical processing. I thought of poetry, perhaps, as a way to create those spaces between the words, that each person can absorb, even, maybe not even understand but absorb. And then I thought about the subjective versus objective use of language. We have different languages. We are speaking in English now, but some of us have different mother tongues and speak other languages. And I'm wondering if there's anything about the common language or common words or I don't know exactly what my question is, but perhaps there is a shared language, maybe even when a baby starts to learn a language, maybe there's some kind of connection between what it is and what it feels like or how it sounds. If you listen to an animal talk or bark, or I don't know, that's just my train of thought. But the spaces between the words are no less meaningful, even in music, the spaces between the notes. And music is also a language without words that conveys feeling or expression that is common to people. So maybe that is another way of, again, when I'm talking, I'm thinking, thinking. So, I'm trying to think between my thoughts or not think between my thoughts, but some way to share feelings or ideas without being too harsh or specific with a language or culture. That's what I heard you say.


Anja: I want to address what Sharon just said, and what you were saying, Hamid, that you said some answers to the koan are, or they come from the body. And I think this is our universal language, maybe. I mean, there are different signs like yes and no; in India, I think it's opposite or whatever it is, but generally, we understand if somebody, with body language, we understand if somebody is depressed or when somebody is feeling good, or there are tears, for example. And I think, yeah, that's our common universal language, I guess. Yeah.


Gerry: ...or the different use of language. Maybe you might say a couple of words about that, Hamid. What Dogen was alluding to, if you don't mind.


Hamid: In Dogen's way, there are four steps, and they can be—they're not necessarily chronological—but there are two aspects of how he sees the unfolding of practice. One is aspiration, aspiration to engage with the Way. Then you have practice, then you have verification or realization, and then you have expression. So for him, expression, or the use of language in a mostly poetical way, was eminently about using what we humans are. In the words of Heidegger, "Language is the house of being." That's Heidegger's definition of language. We do not live outside of that house. We cannot live outside of that house, which is language. So, it is given to us to speak. To animals, it is not given to speak. Animals do not have the use of language, the use of words.


For Master Dogen, it was not language that was limiting, but the mind that was limited and used language that was the difficulty or the obstacle. But a liberated mind could actually be only liberated through, and the realization of language, which is, for him, expression and realization, they are inseparable. For him, there was no realization that would not be accompanied by some form of expression. But it's very personal, it's very unique to that person and to their experience. And it's almost like we could say, a language that has transcended the inherent limitations and dualistic ways that we use language. Which is why it is said of the writings of Master Dogen that he is writing from that place of enlightenment and realization. He is not writing about enlightenment and realization. That's why reading him is so baffling and difficult to understand, because, again, we try to understand in terms of concepts and meanings. And he is using language in a way where language is realized to that non-duality of object and subject.

So, in that sense, you actually do not read very much Master Dogen speaking about the value or the virtue of silence. He is more into expression. And expression is not limited to speech or silence; it's always going beyond. For him, that's the dimension of language, that being humans, cannot but use language to express something that's always about reaching beyond what we know, what we understand, what we have realized. That's why I use the word "realizational" use of language. And he wrote a lot of poetry himself. He was a poet. He had a very poetical approach and very creative approach to writing.

And this is a topic for another conversation, maybe we will approach that, but Master Dogen, talking about the practice of Zazen, he talks about hishiryō, or thinking beyond thinking, or thinking non-thinking, as the essence of Zazen. He is talking also about a language that is using words, but there is no attachment to what comes through an act of cognition and what comes without an act of cognition, without getting attached to either—as one way we can understand non-thinking or hishiryō. So it's shiryō, fushiryō, thinking, not thinking, and going beyond thinking. I think that's how we can also understand these words of language when he talks about the state of mind beyond the limitations of thinking.


Sharon: I want to continue with what you just started about thinking, not thinking, and going beyond thinking. It is perhaps through the muse comes. Where the muse, which is not from the limited mind, but from something universal that appears almost out of nowhere. Then we maybe attach it to something or not. But the muse is allowed in when that space of going beyond thinking is touched on, even for a short moment.


Hamid: So maybe this is something I would like to invite us all to reflect on, we can address this in a future meeting. What do we make of that first koan, where the Bodhisattva of wisdom asks the Buddha for one final teaching, and the Buddha scolds him, and he says for 49 years, I have not preached anything? What does he mean by that? That there are no preachings and no teachings?


Carl:I think there is both of [unclear, sound of heavy rainfall] because he could have also stayed silent on Manjushri's request to say something, as he had done several times before. I just thought it would be very nice when we stop the session that everybody unmutes their microphone so that we hear the dharma of all the different places: Israel, Egypt, Portugal, Mozambique, and the sound of rain falling in Bali....


nota bene : the italics are comments added by Hamid.

 

 

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