Fall out of your plane, into snow-glare winter sky - bright new suicide.
Look! The saw-toothed, ice-capped range of the European Alps thrusts up through white, feather-soft lines of cloud. Far below lies the placid coastline of the French Riviera, part of the rim of the great azure bowl that holds the Mediterranean sea. I took this photo a few days ago with the camera on my tiny, cracked iPhone 5 flying into Nice.
You may have noticed that the layout of the words and lines of my haiku suggest falling and also the shape of an airplane. The meaning is metaphorical. Of course I don't mean that anyone should physically kill themselves, so what am I trying to get at? The word suicide comes from Latin and is comprised of two parts: "sui", meaning the self, and "cide" coming from the verb "caedere", the act of slaying. So the literal meaning of the word is to slay the self. Let's explore the metaphorical ramifications of this idea. A popular Zen expression you may have heard is, "If you meet Buddha on the road, kill him." The expression was coined by Linji (Lin-Chi) Yixuan (臨濟義玄), the founder of his own school of Chán (Zen) Buddhism during Tang dynasty China which later spread to Japan. He died in 866 AD. Here's a passage from The Zen Teachings of Master Lin-Chi translated by Burton Watson (Shambhala, 1993):
“Followers of the Way, if you want to get the kind of understanding that accords with the Dharma, never be misled by others. Whether you’re facing inward or facing outward, whatever you meet up with, just kill it! If you meet a buddha, kill the buddha. If you meet a patriarch, kill the patriarch. If you meet an arhat, kill the arhat. If you meet your parents, kill your parents. If you meet your kinfolk, kill your kinfolk. Then for the first time you will gain emancipation, will not be entangled with things, will pass freely anywhere you wish to go. These students of the Way who come from all over— there’s never been one of them who didn’t appear before me depending on something. So I start right out by hitting them there. If they come with a raised hand, I hit the raised hand, if they come mouthing something, I hit them in the mouth. I tell you, there’s no Buddha, no Dharma, no practice, no enlightenment. Yet you go off like this on side roads, trying to find something. Blind fools! Will you put another head on top of the one you have? What is it you lack? Followers of the Way, you who are carrying out your activities before my eyes are no different from the Buddha and the patriarchs. But you don’t believe that and go searching for something outside. Make no mistake. There’s no Dharma outside, and even what is on the inside can’t be grasped. You get taken up with the words from my mouth, but it would be better if you stopped all that and did nothing. Things already under way, don’t go on with them. Things not yet under way, don’t let them get under way. That’s better for you than ten years traveling around on pilgrimages."
Master Lin is also speaking metaphorically. He is saying that we should extinguish anything that causes us to cling to our sense of self - any images, feelings, thoughts, labels or preconceptions that suggest that we are not enough in and of ourselves. Rather than outward seeking and desperately clinging to a teacher or idea, he demands a stripping away of identity, of self-reflection, self-consideration, so that what we are left with is pure, unencumbered, non-reflective being.
In Western culture, January is a time for reflection and planning for the year to come. Common questions people ask themselves, prompted by tradition and the media are along the lines of "what will you try to achieve in 2024?" "What positive change will you make to your life?"
Dieting, wealth, dating and career are common subjects that top people's lists. I've got to increase my net wealth, get a designer watch, a sports car, a hot partner, a better house or apartment, a better paying job, etc.
If you made a series of resolutions along these lines on the 1st of January this year, have you already failed to honor them? I would like to suggest that resolutions like this are, by nature, bound up in fear and desire and therefore set to self-destruct.
The little voice in our head that is only satisfied when our fears are assuaged and our desires satisfied, only allows us a short moment to enjoy our indulgence and then it comes back crying for more like a small child. So why bother with these ideas at all? Master Lin wants to knock all those crutches away in a single instant so we can connect to a greater reality.
For the new year though, that might be a little too intense, too great a leap, especially if we're not ready for it (not everyone is a monk in a monastery with no worldly commitments). Can we seek a more pragmatic method that can be immediately put into practice in our busy day-to-day lives?
Benjamin Franklin, one of the founding fathers of America, started his day with the question "What good shall I do this day?" and ended his day with "What good have I done this day?" By making himself accountable for "doing good" he ensured that his focus was not on satisfying the illusory demands of his ego, but on taking practical good action with the intention of helping others.
You are reading my answer to that question. If we can't have immediate, revelatory death to self, what the Zen masters call instant enlightenment, then we can have something close to it, a sailing away from the self in the direction of helping those of us in need. Could there be a better way to start the new year? What good can you do today?
Bonus: About Haiku and the Zen Master Basho
Haiku is a type of short form poetry that originated in Japan. Traditional Japanese haiku consist of three phrases composed of 17 phonetic units in a 5, 7, 5 pattern; that include a kireji, or "cutting word"; and a kigo, or seasonal reference. Here is a very literal translation into English of one of the most famous haiku by Zen master and poet Matsuo Bashō (松尾 芭蕉, 1644 –1694).
古池や蛙飛込水の音 Furu ike ya (An old pond) kawazu tobikomu (a frog jumps in) mizu no oto (the sound of water).
I found a website that featured thirty-two English language translations of Basho's poem, ranging from the most direct and simple (which from a Zen perspective is helpful) through to very stylistic interpretations. A few of the translations sought to retain the Japanese 5-7-5 syllable pattern in English, which I also prefer. Poet Laureate of the United States Billy Collins also creates English language haiku using 5-7-5:
When he found out he was like oh my god and I was like oh my god
I've attempted a spontaneous rendition in English of Basho's poem using the 5-7-5 pattern. There is no season word in Basho's poem because the frog itself is a spring animal and therefore becomes the season word, but since that isn't immediately apparent to Western readers I took a few syllables up front to spell that out and set the scene. I used the middle line to highlight the poem's Zen elements and for the last line tried to keep the direct Zen simplicity using the literal Japanese translation.
Spring time ancient pond, frog-no-frog breaks still surface -- the sound of water.
Please submit your own version of Basho's poem if you like, or try your own hand at haiku now you've grasped the idea. According to Yasuhiro Ohwa's “Why is Basho the supreme haiku poet?” (2014), the old pond is, by its nature, forgotten and suggests death, a portal beyond life. “The sound of a frog jumping into water'', by contrast, represents a spontaneous living movement. Through its action, the frog breathes life into the pond and remakes it as something new.