The chinese master Dongshan
once taught,
“Concerning realization, through the body, of going beyond Buddha,
I would like to talk a little.”
A monk said,
“what is this talk?”
Dongshan said,
“when I talk, you don’t hear it.”
The monk asked,
“can you hear it, master?”
then Dongshan replied,
“wait until I don’t talk, then you will hear it.”
Listening
is the fundamental practice of any spiritual path. By definition, “
to listen” means to pay attention in order to hear, to heed,
or to attend.
In listening, we perceive things as they are.
To perceive is to become one with our experience.
Becoming one is to manifest in the moment, alive and immediate. If our
listening is partial, there is still an I who is listening, and our
listening is tainted by this. It is only when listening is complete
that the enlightened mind appears.
Listening as a practice can be a very direct way to take spiritual practice
into everyday life. Because listening is a part of both the spiritual
and the mundane realms, the barrier between “Zen”
and life dissolves in listening practice. Zen practice is functional
whether listening to the breath or listening to a friend complain, whether
sitting in a temple or riding on a bus, while attending the most sacred
ceremony or listening to the screech and clatter of a busy hospital
emergency room. It takes no particular skill or understanding to listen.
It only takes trying. So we say, Try, try, try for ten thousand years.
Because we are humans, we are compassionate by nature. But our compassion
becomes lost in self interest. Listening is a practice that returns
us to our true way. The way of human beings. The way of compassion.
Listening is a difficult practice. It takes enormous effort and intention
to listen clearly. We are distracted and absorbed by the mind habit
of years of conditioning. This book encourages us to see through this
mind habit and grasp the immediacy of experience. We listen with our
eyes; we listen with our nose, our tongue. We listen
with
every cell and every
pore of our body.