PEAKS AND VALLEYS
by Sensei Robert Joshin Althouse (c) 1999

"When all things exist, there is enlightenment and delusion,
practice, life and death, Buddhas and ordinary people.

When all things are without self, t
here is no delusion, no enlightenment, no Buddhas, no ordinary people, no life and death.

Buddhism is beyond being and non-being;
so there are life and death, delusion and enlightenment, ordinary people and Buddhas.

Thus, when flowers fall we are sad, and when when weeds grow we are annoyed."

Dogen Zenji

When I first discovered Zen over twenty five years ago, I was intrigued because it was both existential and practical with a practice that could be applied in daily life. I was overjoyed and rushed impatiently to embrace the rigors of Zen discipline. I was drawn to the clean and beautiful aesthetic and to emotions, free of sentimentality. Each moment was filled with mystery and the smallest things were endowed with the mark of eternity. This practice seemed to settle many of my nagging doubts and uncertainties about life. I came to rely on it. I was a good Zen student.

Such innocence could not last. After taking vows as a monk, a few years later, I was seduced back into the world. This fall from grace was the most painful experience of my whole life. I felt that I had completely failed. I stopped wearing my robes and lived the next twelve years as an artist, painting all the many skeletons and ghosts I found in the darkness of my closet. I renewed my vows several years ago and I am grateful to be able to serve the three treasures.

The first flush of Zen practice is like ascending a steep mountain and arriving at the peak. We are impressed with the speacious view and exhilarating heights. Here all is piercing sunlight, clarity, purity and innocence. There is no room for uncertainty or doubt. So ti is with real reluctance, that we descend back to the valley of our everyday life. But descend we must.

It is good discipline learning to scale mountain peaks and it is part of Zen practice, but we can become stuck on the peaks. It is very puzzling that practicing with such sincerity and purity, we should nevertheless lose inspiration and our sense of humor. Such heights when separated from the valley, become too impersonal, strangely barren and inhuman. We must return to the valley to live. Here the soil is rich with fertilizer and things grow well and we can feed our family. Here we can learn about roots and a sense of place and of how to participate in the community. The shadows of the valley teach us about our blind spots because the beliefs and paradigms we cherish, are often those most hidden from us.

In the valley we learn about duality. We have our desires, our weaknesses and our own personal idiosyncrasies. If we are honest, we have to admit that we love the things of this world, the fast cars, the roxy music, our hip life styles and our cultivated tastes. Taken by themselves, these things never satisfy us so we ascend moountains to breathe a more rarefied atmosphere. But we need to integrate the peaks and valleys of life. The peaks teach us absolutes, clarity, confidence, silence and certainty. The valleys teach us particulars, patience, the honesty of desire, the integrity of passion, character, and compassion. In this way the bright sunlight intermingles freely with the shadows. We should visit the peaks often, but not take up residence there.