DWARFS AND GIANTS
by Sensei Robert Joshin Althouse (c) 1999

"Dharma-gates are countless,
I vow to wake to them."

Third verse of the Four Bodhisattva Vows

We chant this third line every evening at the end of our zazen meditation as part of the four Bodhisattva vows. What are these countless Dharma-gates and what does it mean to wake up to them? When we are occupied with opinions, judgments and expectations we miss these Dharma-gates that open in the small and ordinary circumstances of our lives.

These Dharma-gates are like dwarfs waiting by the side of the road. They are the events of our life that emerge from the shadows. Their sudden appearance startles us and throws us off balance. Dwarfs after all, are not "beautiful people". They have warts on their faces, they are short and ugly. So we don't take kindly to being interrupted by dwarfs. They are such an inconvenience We have places to go and important people to meet. With our rising irritation, we say something sarcastic such as "Get lost you jerk. Go back into the forest where you came from and leave me alone!"

But dwarfs have quick tempers too. They take offense, when offense is given. They get pissed off and cast a spell on us. Then we find that our day goes from gbad to worse. Everything goes wrong. Opening the Dharma-gates is a matter of aligning the inner imperative of our heart with the daily circumstancesof our life. This inner imperative is the archetypal suffering that we share with our ancestors. It is the fall which marks us as human. Our practice is to open up this wound so that it becomes a blessing to ourselves and others. If we don't open the wound, if we don't listen to the dwarf, our life becomes a curse which grows in size and becomes a giant with addictive appetites. When the Dharma-gate is not accessible to us, we become stuck and closed to our own inherent, natural wisdom.

Dwarfs are mercurial in nature. They appear and disappear, with a quickness that condenses experience and leaves no time for concepts to plant the seed of blame or comparison. They live close to the earth and know the nature of things. They are tailors and shoemakers. They have a keen interest in walking, in how the heel touches the earth.

Dwarfs are the inferior (underdeveloped) shadowy side of our life. What they tell us is tnot easily heard. It is some pointed turth that cuts the ground from beneath our habitual assumptions and lazy generalities. They are teachers. They may look like a Zen Master or a hungry ghost. HOwever they appear, they remind us of a small voice we have dismissed, a lost integrity yet to be heard. They awaken us from the numerous distractions of our modern times: work, movies, TV, sex, drugs, etc.

When we repress and ignore what is uncomfortable in our experience, it grows larger. If it becomes large enough, it becomes a giant or a hungry ghost. Unlike dwarfs, giants are clumsy and oafish. Their appetites are enormous. They hord valuable things they don't know how to use. They waste energy.

I was struck recently, during my street retreat in Seattle by how liberated I felt being on the streets, free of needing to consume anything but the basic necessities of food, shelter and safety. I became so tired, walking and sleeping on concrete surfaces, that the boundaries I normally erected to keep a safe distances from strangers and the unknown dissolved. The streets wore me down.

Suzuki Roshi said that when we walk by the stream, we should know how to stop the water. Don Juan taught Carlos Casteneda how to stop the world. This is what it means to listen to dwarfs. The Dharma-gates are self-evident in the daily circumstances of our lives; the bothersome details that irritate us; the unplanned accidents and serendipitous encounters that offend or awaken us.

So while dwarfs are inconveninet, we should take time to listen. Certainly, it would be wise not to blame them for our troubles. If we engage them in conversation, it can be enlightening. Even though their words may be sharp and cutting, it is the medicine we need, that quickens and brings us to attention.

Listening and opening, forgiveness is near-at-hand, generosity and grace are the air we breath. The earth becomes our good friend. The chip on our shoulder dissolves. Instead of perching on this earth we can walk on it with confidence. Instead of giving a long sermon, Shayamuni Buddha held up a flower to the assembly. Everyone was silent. Only Mahakasyapa broke into a smile. Buddha said, I have the eye treasury of the true Dharma, the marvelous mind of nirvana, the true form of no-form, the subtle gate of the Dharma. It does not depend on letters, being specially transmitted outside all teachings. Now I entrust Mahakasyapa with this.