I went to a Zen Buddhist retreat in Shizuka last weekend, hosted by so-called "Zen master" named Brad Warner, author of Hardcore Zen. Realizing that it wasn't quite for me, I decided to leave and visit a friend in Tokyo. Interesting enough, though, I came to find that Brad had referred to me less than flatteringly in his blog ( http://hardcorezen.blogspot.com/), to quote:
I'm back in Tokyo now after the annual Dogen Sangha Zazen Retreat in Shizuoka, Japan. A good time was had by all. Except for one guy who literally ran away. Well, I'm not certain if he ran or walked. But he left the zendo during one of the kinhin periods and just never came back. This created some problems for us later on because we began finding certain jobs left not done as they'd been assigned to him. So if you're going to leave a retreat, leave. But tell someone you're leaving. Or risk being called an asswipe on this blog.
Asswipe.
Disappointed with the Zazen retreat and Brad's nasty comments about me, I decided to write him an email, fully realizing that it would probably have zero effect on the guy. But anyway, without further ado, here is the letter I sent him:
Dear Brad,
I am the guy who ‘ran out’ of your Zazen retreat in Shizuoka. Actually, I walked, and not during kinhin but during a Zazen session. Not that you would have noticed. You certainly didn’t notice when one of the members was missing from breakfast, lost in the hills. Then again, no one else did, either. I suppose this says more about the completely impersonal, mindless format of the retreat itself than any of the individual people who attended. Perhaps if we had been given more time to talk with and get to know each other personally, that wouldn’t have been a problem. That's neither here nor there, though.
When I saw on your blog that a self-described Zen master (you) had referred to me as an ‘asswipe’ for having left his retreat, I wasn’t sure whether to smile or frown. All jokes aside, it’s not pleasant being the target of someone’s foul mouth. You should also know that I did, in fact, let someone know of my departure. I sent an email to my friend Ben almost immediately after I left. If he failed to notice my absence and inform you, I apologize. However, that wouldn’t make him an asswipe, nor would a lack of such notification on my part make me one. I left in a silence manner to avoid disrupting the group. However, I have the sneaking suspicion that even if I had given you formal notification of my departure, you would most probably still be griping now. That seems to be your character.
My reason for leaving was simple: It was your attitude. You come off as a self-centered, know-it-all prick in robes – with your conception of Zazen being the only one that matters. Latching on to being called ‘the guy’ in the taxi on the way to the temple is a case in point. I hadn’t read your books, so I didn’t know your name. That’s why I referred to you as ‘the guy.’ In my mind, it was a completely neutral statement, if not praise, in reference of the fact that you would were the guy who would be leading the retreat. However, judging from your first lecture, in which you made a sarcastic comment about the incident, you clearly took offense to it. I wonder why. Did it bother that you that I didn’t know your name, or did something in my mild-mannered tone make you think I said ‘the guy’ out of some hidden viciousness? Was there something about my physiognomy that irked you? I’ll probably never know, but that is also neither here nor there.
I finished your first book today. You had some good points, but your high and mighty tone was grating: most notably all the reference to idiots, morons, asswipes and bungholes – that is, people who don't agree with you. This is not the kind of language I would expect from a serious Zen student, much less a Zen master. Using such language is just mean and rude, and as far as I know I have given you no reason to be mean or rude to me. You clearly have a lot of hang-ups, and have strayed far from the eightfold path, particularly when it comes to right speech. In connection with this, I recommend taking a look at Thich Naht Hanh's The Heart of the Buddha’s Teachings[/url]. I think you would get a lot out of it.
You might also want to revisit your own book, in which you say:
“As far as I am concerned, religions obscure reality rather than reveal it more clearly. They serve up vapid platitudes in place of answers to the genuine and crucial questions that burn in our guts. Pretty buildings full of vacant-eyed people with freeze-dried brains all pretending to agree with each other that the empty words the guy up front wearing the funny costume says actually mean anything at all let alone anything actually useful – that whole scene never did a lot for me. Religions offer authority figures: Trust the wise person’s learned excretions and you’ll be fine. Uh-huh.”
Indeed. Perhaps its time you had a good, hard look at who and what you really are, or have become.
In a similar vein you say this:
“Pretty much all the rest of what people call ‘Buddhism’ – the temples, the rituals, the funny outfits, and the ceremonies – isn’t the important stuff. It’s just decoration. That stuff is useful at times to create a theatrical sort of atmosphere that brings in the crowds, but it’s hardly necessary for seeing the reality that the Buddha’s teachings point to.”
A great point, but the Buddha wasn’t just pointing to reality. Buddhism goes beyond discovering the ‘Truth’ and learning to enjoy every moment of life – which you have clearly placed at the center of your practice. The Buddha was pointing to a road that leads to inner and outer peace – a road that is paved in mindful compassion. And this element of the Buddha’s teachings is horribly lacking in your personality, your books, and the way you comport yourself.
All the best and sorry for interrupting your little Zazen retreat,
Asswipe
__________
Anyway, the actual zazen practice was very beneficial, I felt, and thus I might actually make it a daily practice. I probably won't do it the way Brad does, though.
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