Question
Hello, Stéphane. My name is [xxx], I am thirty, Argentine, and have practiced zazen since March.
I am writing because I notice aggressiveness at sesshins.
A few days ago I attended my second sesshin and was asked to serve. I accepted, making clear that I needed guidance because I did not know the ceremonies and some things WERE NOT OBVIOUS TO ME.
As agreed with the serving team, I served the right half of the dojo. I made my first mistake during the first genmai, when instead of serving everyone tea, I distributed the thermoses so people could serve themselves. I noticed my mistake after half the people had already served themselves. Afterward I was asked why I had not served the remaining people and whether I had noticed. I replied, “Everyone or no one; either everyone is
important or no one is… I don’t think Buddha got angry; another day I’ll invite him to a good meal.”
The following day, after finishing serving my section, I noticed the thermoses had not been brought, so I quietly agreed with another team member to fetch the tea. When I returned with the thermoses, the argument started. The nun in charge, furious, told me very rudely that I should not have gotten up, that there were not enough people serving genmai. I wondered whether she was speaking about me that way and stood bewildered. The nun snapped me out of it by angrily addressing me: “Help serve.” I thought of getting up and inviting her to help us serve, reminding her that the captain is the last to leave the ship. She shamed and exposed me before forty people.
When the ceremony ended, I asked her to explain my mistake again because I had not understood it very well, and she explained very kindly. What confusion! What a schizoid mind! Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde! She lowers her voice to explain as an equal outside the dojo, but in her role as nun she exercises this violence. Then she explained that this was how I would learn. I work in education and rehabilitation for people with disabilities, and I am qualified to question teaching and learning methods. We do not all learn through public exposure and aggression. After this incident I began crying… I told the nun that even if I had noticed a shortage of servers, I would still have gotten up to fetch tea because I do not know what is obvious. I also told her she had abused her power.
The others comforted me, saying I would understand in time. Would I understand in time, or would mistreatment come to seem normal with time? They told me, “Welcome to the world of Zen.”
Mistreatment seems to be a badge of honor: “Kosen yelled at me, and you have no idea how he shouts.” Excuse me? If you had shouted at me, Stéphane, I would have asked you to take your time and address me more appropriately.
I returned from my first sesshin disillusioned. I saw monks argue over a centimeter of zabuton, undermine each other, joke during zazen, and ridicule the person asking for silence. Seeing my surprise, they told me, “We are human beings, and we must embrace differences.” What differences? Embracing differences is one thing; supporting someone ill-mannered is another. What part of
”Silence, we are in zazen” can an adult not understand? I heard them complain about teaspoons, confusing the sesshin with a spa.
I want to mention that I also met people whose kind gestures and humble spirit helped us begin, made us comfortable, and created a feeling that zazen can be practiced together. Perhaps I am in the wrong place, practicing something I truly want to practice.
I send my greetings and thank you for taking the time to read this message.
Anonymous
Answer from Master Kosen
I am truly sorry about so much foolishness, and it does not correspond at all to what I want.
Clearly my teaching is bad if it produces such a result.
Even though petty bosses spring up spontaneously everywhere, I apologize for having taught my disciples so poorly.
The same thing happened with my master Deshimaru. He frightened people, and they said, “When Deshimaru gets angry, it is terrible.”
It is true his anger could be terrible, but for good reasons, and very rarely.
Generally, he was courteous and very patient. The proof is that he put up with me for fifteen years with so much love that a lifetime would not be enough to repay him. He was respectful and very kind, especially to beginners.
Tell my Argentine disciples on my behalf that I want them to be kind, to speak to each other with love, that this matters more than pots of genmai or thermoses of coffee. I hate cops and fascists; I hate bosses and hierarchies.
I am sorry to hear such an account.
Kosen