MUDDY WATERS, HAZY MOON
by Sensei Robert Joshin Althouse (c) 1999

"Though you find clear waters ranging to the vast blue skies of autumn,
How can that compare with the hazy moon on a spring night?
Some people want it pure white but sweep as you will you cannot empty the mind."

Keizan Zenji

Most of us expect enlightenment to clear up all the problems in our lives. We expect that with enlightenment we will be free of the energies of anger, passion, jealousy and so on. We are disappointed to discover that sweep as we may, confusion is still a daily experience. It is hard to trust that the life we are living, now is the enlightened life, as it is.

Years ago when I was painting in Los Angeles, I used to amuse myself with a painting exercise. I would splash paint on a canvas in a sea of oceanic chaos. Each time I recognized a figure take shape, I would destroy it. Sometimes this was difficult, as I might be attached to that figure. A figure, a face, animal, monster, tree - whatever figure began to separate from the ground, I would paint over it and bring the canvas back to a sea of undifferentiated chaos. Eventually, a figure would begin to repeat itself, seemingly by complete accident. It would appear again. I would destroy it. But awhile later, there it was again. If this happened enough times, I would let that figure emerge and begin to develop it into my painting.

Recently, I have been having this same experience in groups. We start out the group in a muddle. It seems like nothing is getting done. And just when I am about to throw up my hands in despair, something begins to break through the confusion. Some clarity is seeking to resolve itself through the muddy waters. I am learning to trust this group process and stay with the ambiguity of uncertainty, even though it may be uncomfortable. I know now that if I can do this and other people in the group can do it, we will usually have a successful meeting.

It is difficult to trust this experience of letting go. We want so much to maintain the illusion of our control. Yang-ch'i said, "The coin that is lost in the river is retrieved in the river." We may have lost love or a relationship. We may have lost our passion and joy for life and despair that it will never return again. Our struggle to make it return is of little consequence. It is when we surrender the struggle, let go of our resistance considering the nature of the problem. If we can hold the questions of our lives in a suspended tension, the questions themselves reveal the wisdom we are seeking. So please, be willing to inhabit your suffering. Don't be in such a rush to solve your problems. If you really live this question wholeheartedly, embracing it like a lover, you may find that at some point you are actually living the answer without even knowing it. Our practice is to fail perfectly, to walk and practice imperfectly. In this way our practice is perfection itself. How can the clear waters of the vast blue autumn skies compare to the hazy moon on a spring night?