Someone over on Brad's blog comments section (where discussions on enlightenment/realisation are ongoing) asked me what I considered to be a 'genuine insight into the absolute' from the perspective of my own (limited) experience. I think it's good to give honest and direct answers to this sort of question, so I said this:
Speaking for myself, and as mentioned some time earlier, a ‘genuine insight into the absolute’ can be gleaned quite quickly when I, or anyone, sits zazen and lets thoughts and feelings just come and go as they do. After a while this stabilizes into a clear and unhindered state where can be starkly seen the coming-and-going nature of the various functions and sensations which usually give rise to a mistaken sense of separate identity, including the thinking facility which likes to, for example, carve the flow of things up into designations like ‘the mundane’ as opposed ‘the absolute’, or ‘inside’ as opposed ‘outside’, or ‘me’ and ‘the world’, or ‘this’ and ‘that’, ‘good’ and ‘bad’, ‘here and there’ etc etc etc...
When I stop that thinking activity then it is quite clear to see that those habitual designations don’t hold up and that the nature of our existence is rather more inclusive, and also quite inscrutable in terms of a ‘source’. Some times the person observing this will just sort of seemingly stop happening, and things like the usual perception of time might be effected. There are various experiences that can arise from the practice of it, but I think the whole gist of it can be appreciated pretty much from the start when that bit of stability has been established. So the practice of it is actually very accesible, and, while I think it’s a great thing for anyone to do, it’s also no big remote accomplishment or obscure metaphysical realm.
BTW, here’s one of the old koan that I was thinking of that contextualises the teaching on ‘shunyata’ in a particularly zennish way (i.e. with dubious, or old school, morality!):
Sekkyo said to one of his monks, “Can you get hold of emptiness?”
“I’ll try,” said the monk, and he cupped his hands in the air.
“That’s not very good,” said Sekkyo. “You have nothing there!”
“Well, master,” said the monk, “please show me a better way.”
Thereupon, Sekkyo seized the monk’s nose and gave it a hard yank.
“Ouch!” yelled the monk. “You hurt me!”
“That’s the way to get hold of emptiness!” said Sekkyo.
Regards,
Harry.
Speaking for myself, and as mentioned some time earlier, a ‘genuine insight into the absolute’ can be gleaned quite quickly when I, or anyone, sits zazen and lets thoughts and feelings just come and go as they do. After a while this stabilizes into a clear and unhindered state where can be starkly seen the coming-and-going nature of the various functions and sensations which usually give rise to a mistaken sense of separate identity, including the thinking facility which likes to, for example, carve the flow of things up into designations like ‘the mundane’ as opposed ‘the absolute’, or ‘inside’ as opposed ‘outside’, or ‘me’ and ‘the world’, or ‘this’ and ‘that’, ‘good’ and ‘bad’, ‘here and there’ etc etc etc...
When I stop that thinking activity then it is quite clear to see that those habitual designations don’t hold up and that the nature of our existence is rather more inclusive, and also quite inscrutable in terms of a ‘source’. Some times the person observing this will just sort of seemingly stop happening, and things like the usual perception of time might be effected. There are various experiences that can arise from the practice of it, but I think the whole gist of it can be appreciated pretty much from the start when that bit of stability has been established. So the practice of it is actually very accesible, and, while I think it’s a great thing for anyone to do, it’s also no big remote accomplishment or obscure metaphysical realm.
BTW, here’s one of the old koan that I was thinking of that contextualises the teaching on ‘shunyata’ in a particularly zennish way (i.e. with dubious, or old school, morality!):
Sekkyo said to one of his monks, “Can you get hold of emptiness?”
“I’ll try,” said the monk, and he cupped his hands in the air.
“That’s not very good,” said Sekkyo. “You have nothing there!”
“Well, master,” said the monk, “please show me a better way.”
Thereupon, Sekkyo seized the monk’s nose and gave it a hard yank.
“Ouch!” yelled the monk. “You hurt me!”
“That’s the way to get hold of emptiness!” said Sekkyo.
Regards,
Harry.

