“When the wind comes to the surface of the water.”
Reading this Chinese poem, our first reaction might be “so what?” or “what about it?” But instead of just reading it and trying to understand the poem, let’s approach it more directly.
What happens when the wind comes to the surface of the water? Is it at all knowable? Where does the water end and the wind start? Can we find a dividing line? And is there any time involved in the immediacy of water-wind? There is beauty in the immediacy and oneness. There is no separate water resisting the wind and saying, “Not yet; I am not ready, come later?” There is not a hint of resistance, not the slightest confusion in the timeless harmony of what is happening, naturally enchanting us and showing us an effortless and conflictless wholeness.
To a large extent, we are busy upholding the definition of “who I am” and the borderlines that will maintain our individuality and specialness. We are busy projecting “me” into a better or at least predictable future and being entangled this way; we miss the immediacy of what is happening. We are occupied thus, planning for a time when we will be okay - when there will be enough money, when we earned the right degree, have the right job, and the right situation, and yet we rarely experience the okayness and fullness of what is. We keep searching and miss the immediacy of “I am happening.”
The wind comes to the surface of our skin, sounds are heard, fragrances are smelled, and thoughts are thought. Life is not happening to a solid “me,” like pictures drawn on paper, layered one on top of the other. Just because we have the ability to reflect, think and remember doesn’t mean that there is a central and lasting “me” doing it, a place where all of the life experiences pile up. The absence of a solid “me” also doesn’t’ mean that we don’t learn from experiences. Things are learned, insights are happening, but nobody owns them. What we call “I” is fluidly changing with each experience in the same way that water effortlessly changes shapes. The reason we often fail to learn from experience is not because we didn’t make enough effort, but because there was too much effort spent maintaining “me,” being caught up and frozen in our ideas and definitions. Of course, the icy frozenness is the same water as the fluidly moving waves. If we can recognize that, our striving and feeling of something missing will end, but without that insight, the seeming separation and the suffering continues.
We cannot know which wind will arise or where and when. Which sensation, feeling, or thought will occur is largely unknown. We plan and prepare, but the outcome might well differ from what we anticipate. Nevertheless, there isn’t a single moment when the wind doesn’t come to the surface of the water. The feeling of being cut off from experience or remaining outside is based on “me” resisting what I don’t like and unsuccessfully grasping what I do like. We don’t realize the fullness and richness of the fact that there is always an experience, just not necessarily the one we want. What is happening doesn’t happen to anybody separate; in fact, it isn’t happening to anybody at all. Morinaga Roshi said, “Originally, we are not bound by causality, by mind or manifestations. Oneself is causality; oneself is mind; oneself is manifestation. And this self is emptiness, without a fixed and defined form.” The living Buddha is constantly revealed; how could we miss ourselves!
Calligraphy: Shaku Daijo
So grateful for these posts! Deep bows.
"...there's not a single moment when the wind doesn't come to the surface of the water." Thank you🙏💗