Mixed-media image Copyright©2024 Hoko Karnegis.
I vow with all beings:
Being with my spouse and children
BEING WITH MY SPOUSE AND CHILDREN,
I VOW WITH ALL BEINGS
TO BE IMPARTIAL TOWARD EVERYONE
AND FOREVER GIVE UP ATTACHMENT.[1]
There are few relationships that feel more important than those with our spouses and children. We want only the best for them, would do anything for them, and are happy to make them our priority. Attachment to our immediate families seems not only reasonable and understandable, but responsible and virtuous… and yet some of the most basic teachings of our tradition are about non-attachment as an antidote to suffering.
We are also affected in our understanding of family responsibilities by the influence of Confucianism on our practice. As we saw last month, parent and child is the first of the Five Constant Relationships, and filial piety is considered the root of virtue and humanity. Who would argue against partiality for those we love? Are we to turn our backs on them and walk away for the sake of practicing non-attachment?
Fortunately, no – at least, not in the context of modern Sōtō Zen practice in North America. It’s true that in the Buddha’s time, one literally left home in order to join the sangha and begin to practice, giving up the joys and obligations of social and home life. The family was considered a fetter, a hindrance and distraction for those who aspired to give up all attachments and focus solely on awakening. Shakyamuni himself climbed over the wall of his palace in the middle of the night, leaving behind his wife and son, in order to become an ascetic and search for the cause and ending of suffering.
This understanding that joining the sangha required homeleaving continued as Buddhism moved across Asia to Japan. There’s a Japanese proverb that says, “A child is a neck-shackle for the Three States of Existence, or the three worlds (ko wa sangai no kubikase 子は三界の首枷).” In other words, love for or attachment to a child will impede your spiritual progress through not only this world but the other two as well! It’s difficult to be a parent.
On ordaining, Japanese clergy gave up their family identity, including their surnames, until 1872, when the government ordered them to resume using their surnames, lowered their public status, and removed their legal privileges in an effort to modernize the country and keep control of the people. That same year, the government removed penalties for clergy who ate meat, married, grew their hair, or wore non-clerical clothing. Although the Sōtō Zen denomination continued to expect its clergy to adhere to its precepts and rules nonetheless, it’s estimated that by the end of the Meiji period in 1912, more than half of them were married. Debate over the issue of clerical marriage continued for decades, and it wasn’t until 1995 that temple wives (jizoku 寺族) were officially recognized in the Sōtōshū Constitution despite their crucial role in temple operations. It’s been challenging to reconcile the denomination’s key Buddhist teachings about renunciation with the reality of temple families as allowed and encouraged by the government.
These days, many Sōtō Zen practitioners in North America, including the clergy, have families and home lives outside of the temple, and consider these fertile grounds for practice rather than fetters and shackles.
Like most gāthās, this month’s verse is encouraging us to carry on with our concrete, daily lives while not losing sight of the absolute view. We don’t need to stop loving our families in order to practice with nondiscrimination, which is really the point of this gāthā. Nondiscrimination means that we treat each thing, being or situation we encounter with equanimity, wisdom, and compassion, seeing each element clearly and then taking care of it appropriately. We take care not only of our families, but all beings. There are two ways to view the teaching of this gāthā. One is that we should strive to hold all beings as dear as our own loved ones. The other is that we should recognize our karmic attachment to our loved ones as a source of suffering, albeit one we take on knowingly and with wisdom and compassion.
Rather than simply taking our attachment to our loved ones for granted, we can practice being aware of it and use it as a chance to investigate the nature of attachment itself. In Buddhism, there are four kinds of attachment: sense-pleasures, rites and rituals, views, and the self. Spending time with family is likely an opportunity to see all of these arise. We enjoy watching the kids learn and play, and hearing their laughter. The regular activities of the day – meals, favorite TV shows, bedtime – provide a comfortable structure to family life, and we feel discombobulated when that routine is upset. It’s likely that the family has a set of shared values and points of view that helps hold it together. Finally, we take a lot of our identity from the family; we’re parents, children, siblings, breadwinners, oldest, youngest, or the one in the family who always [your answer here]. Young people leaving home for the first time, parents who’ve become empty nesters, or those going through divorce experience a significant shift in their perceptions of themselves.
What happens when you take on leadership of a group activity in which your child or spouse is involved? Maybe you coach a sports team, lead a youth group, run a small family company, teach a class or chair a committee that includes a family member. On one hand, of course you want your loved one to shine, to take home all the prizes, or to get the best position or assignment. On the other hand, as the group leader you must remain impartial if you’re to have any trust or credibility with the entire membership. It can be difficult, especially if your loved one expects special treatment – perks for himself or retribution for his rivals. But I deserve favors, he wails. I’m family!
Does our attachment to family members really mean that they are more deserving of our wisdom and compassion than other beings? Are they actually special, or simply special to us? While they certainly don’t merit less care than others receive, do they merit more? Or is it that we’re responsible to and for them in a particular way?
The Mahaparinirvana Sutra makes the point over and over again that Buddha views all beings as he does his own son Rahula. We as bodhisattvas are also to see all beings as we would see our own children. This is not easy; people question the Buddha about whether he can really do this. This or that person did this or that bad thing; can you really see him as your son? Yes, Buddha says, it’s true. I really do.
In the sutra, he says:
Should I see but one person falling into Avichi Hell, I would, for the sake of that person, stay in the world for a kalpa or less than a kalpa. I have great compassion for all beings. How could I cheat one whom I regard as my son and let him fall into hell? Seeing a person falling into hell, I cause repairs [to be made] and bestow the precepts for good deeds.[2]
Buddha could have seen people making mistakes and falling into hell realms and just written them off or become angry. Instead he provided teachings, guidance, and precepts the way a parent would care for a child.
It’s easy to fall into the trap of thinking that compassion is an emotion and that only people we like or agree with deserve our compassion. We can generate compassion for the family and friends with whom we’re intimate, but not for people we don’t know or don’t like very much. However, we know as bodhisattvas that there’s no one outside of our compassion. That’s because compassion is based on our understanding of interconnectedness. Intimacy with other all beings is already there, even though we put up barriers and choose to ignore it. Our original mind sees interconnectedness within this one unified reality and knows that there’s nothing outside of it. This is how we go beyond picking and choosing who receives our care and get to impartiality.
A Japanese word for impartiality is byōdō 平等. We can add the word onshin 怨親, in which the first kanji means to be resentful or jealous and the second can mean a parent or relative, someone with whom one is intimate, and we have the phrase onshin byōdō 怨親平等. It means that the enemy and the ally are equal, or that we treat hate and love alike, and it’s important in Japanese Buddhist culture. For instance, in Japan there are stone monuments and memorial services for people who died on both sides of a battle. The point is that the living need to transcend hatred to help the dead be reborn in Amida’s pure land, where everyone is treated equally and impartially. When two samurai fought a duel and one died, the other would bow to the corpse and pray for him. After a battle warlords prayed not only for their own fallen soldiers but also for those of the enemy commander. During the conflict people had to fight each other, but afterward they took the larger view that intimates and enemies are equally important. They are all loved by others, and their lives are unique and individual. Friends and enemies are all living one interconnected life. The practice was to let go of picking and choosing based on personal emotion and care for everyone.
While we certainly have to recognize individuality and the particulars of various circumstances, or sabetsu 差別, we also have to recognize byōdō, impartiality or equality. Sabetsu and byōdō are two sides of one whole universe. Okumura Rōshi frequently uses the image of the complete interpenetration of five fingers (individuality) and one hand (universality). Seeing how everything is different and independent on the one side and equal and interconnected on the other side is the basic view of Mahāyāna. One name for Buddha’s wisdom is byōdō shōchi 平等承知, wisdom which sees the nature of equality.
Impartiality is difficult when we feel that need to make a distinction between our families and all other beings, but if we can’t see any other kind of byōdō, we can at least acknowledge the four noble truths. All of us who have this human form have delusion and suffering; we have that as common ground if nothing else. My suffering is not identical to your suffering because our karmic circumstances are different, but nobody is free from suffering, no matter what kind of front we put up. Our families and other families aren’t identical, and we don’t have to pretend they are. We just have to be able to see that in addition to being different from each other, there is also no difference.
When we’re spending time with our spouses and children, let’s vow with all beings to realize that they and the feelings we have for them are very special, and all beings are also very special. Everyone is deserving of our care and attention, and no one is outside of the Buddha way. Let’s remember to practice what Buddha taught.
Next time:
WHEN ATTAINING MY DESIRES,
I VOW WITH ALL BEINGS
TO PULL OUT THE ARROWS OF LUST
AND REALIZE ULTIMATE PEACE.
[1] Translations are based upon Thomas Cleary’s translation of the Avataṃsaka Sūtra, and have been recast by Hoko in the form of standard Sōtōshū gāthās.
[2] The Mahāyāna Mahaparinirvana Sutra, Translated into English by Kosho Yamamoto, 1973 from Dharmakshema’s Chinese version. Edited, revised and copyright by Dr. Tony Page, 2007 p. 58. Retrieved 06/03/2024 from http://www.shabkar.org/download/pdf/Mahaparinirvana_Sutra_Yamamoto_Page_2007.pdf
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Commentary by Hoko Karnegis
The Dōgen Institute offers a monthly series of posts by Hoko Karnegis, Senior Dharma Teacher at Sanshinji, in Bloomington, Indiana.
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