禅とは、丁寧にあなたの日常を生きる道Attentive Living as a Path of Zen

Where, exactly, does Zen reveal its most distinctive quality? This question is, of course, identical with the fundamental inquiry into what Zen actually is, and in this essay I clarify that point from an angle different from conventional accounts.

First, Buddhist philosophy, because of its long history, has divided into many communities and lineages. Recognizing this helps us survey Zen’s place as a whole. What proves useful here is the systematization carried out by Kukai (空海, 774–835). This heterodox monk undertook the task of bringing order to a Buddhism that had already fallen into chaos, and he was the first to propose a path of genuine individualization that matched each person’s capacities. The background was that, once people entered a religion, they tended to become increasingly dependent on it and, after devoting most of their lives, still failed to attain religious fulfillment. Because in those days the expansion of a Buddhist sect’s followers equated directly with its political influence, every lineage in Kukai’s era resorted to extravagant publicity and florid rhetoric to gather “followers,” to use a modern social-media expression.

In other words, just as medicine is now becoming ever more personalized, faith too must be chosen not for “numbers,” “name recognition,” or the charisma of a “leader,” but by selecting what fits each individual. Large institutions that try to hold vast memberships therefore face an uncertain future. Knowing one’s present position and choosing the best road sounds simple, yet in reality it is extremely difficult.

The situation was no different in Kukai’s day. Most people, without really understanding doctrine, affiliated themselves with whichever sect had the largest membership, or which their family and friends belonged to, or which wielded strong political power, or which possessed a charismatic leader. In fact, Buddhism had long established the danka system (檀家), whereby affiliation was not at the level of individuals but of households and lineage; ordinary people had no freedom to choose. In Japan this system remains deeply rooted. In the Jodo-shu the term is shinto (信徒), in the Jodo-Shinshu it is monto (門徒); either way, the device exists to keep believers across generations and bears no direct relation to individual spiritual attainment.

As a result, the aims of believers and the purposes of their lives often do not coincide, and they stray far from their own path. My view is that Kukai felt an extreme dissatisfaction with this, refused to accommodate the established Buddhist lineages, sought a new way, and resolved to lay the foundations for guiding many people. That, I believe, is the reason he was a unique figure.

In Kukai’s case, the answer could not be found in Japan, so he used the kentoshi (遣唐使) system, traveling as a student to Tang China, then the world’s foremost civilization, where he could learn directly from great teachers. The systematic theory he fashioned with this advanced knowledge was compiled as the Jujushinron (十住心論). At the request of Emperor Junna, the 53rd sovereign (r. 823–833), Kukai produced this first work to organize the confused Buddhist sects, presenting it around 830 CE. Its distinctive feature is that, rather than merely listing sectarian differences, it re-situated religion as a whole from the perspective of “the human mind.” Kukai divided the journey from the “ordinary person” (bonpu 凡夫) to the ultimate state of “satori (悟り)” into ten levels and succeeded in mapping especially the major Buddhisms of his time.

While this concept can be complex even for many readers in Japan, the ideas themselves are relatively straightforward. Briefly, these ten stages are:

Isho Teiyo-shin (異生羝羊心) – a mind drenched in defilements

Gudo Jisai-shin (愚童持斎心) – the awakening of morality, a Confucian state

Yodo Mui-shin (嬰童無畏心) – a transcendent orientation aligned with Indian philosophy and Daoist thought

Yuiun Muga-shin (唯蘊無我心) – the śravaka stage within Hinayana Buddhism

Batsugo Inju-shin (抜業因種心) – the pratyekabuddha stage within Hinayana Buddhism

Taen Daijo-shin (他縁大乗心) – the Yogacara–Hosso stage of Mahayana Buddhism

Kakushin Fusho-shin (覚心不生心) – the Madhyamaka–Sanron stage of Mahayana Buddhism

Ichido Mui-shin (一道無為心) – the Tiantai stage of Mahayana Buddhism

Gokumu Jisho-shin (極無自性心) – the Huayan/Kegon stage of Mahayana Buddhism

Himitsu Shogon-shin (秘密荘厳心) – the realm of Shingon Esoteric Buddhism (密教)

Among these, it is well known that levels 1 to 9 were categorized as “Exoteric Buddhism” (顕教), with level 10 classified as “Esoteric Buddhism” (密教); but what exactly did Kukai perceive here? One crucial point to note is that in Kukai’s time, Zen had not yet been formally introduced into Japan. Although figures such as Dosho (道昭, 629–700), who studied under Xuanzang (玄奘三蔵, 602–664)—the renowned monk who established significant foundations for Buddhist studies between China and India in the early 7th century—and Dosen (道璿, 702–760), who brought the Northern school of Zen to Japan in 736, as well as Saicho (最澄, 767–822), Kukai’s greatest rival who traveled to Tang China around the same time and later founded the Tendai sect (天台宗, Tendai-shu) on Mount Hiei, introduced early currents of Zen, none of these efforts led to its significant development. The true flourishing of Zen in Japan had to await the emergence of Eisai’s (栄西) Rinzai sect (臨済宗) and Dogen’s (道元) Soto sect (曹洞宗) in the 13th century.

For that reason the Jujushinron does not treat Zen, yet I have long felt that Zen possesses one great characteristic. If we force the issue, Zen can be placed at level 9, but more accurately it embraces levels 1–9 in their entirety. That is, it never reaches level 10, Kukai’s esoteric realm, yet it finds truth not in steadily climbing one laddered stage after another but in regarding such staged images themselves as lacking real substance.

The essence of Shingon lies not in the worship of Mahavairocana Buddha (大日如来) but in becoming Mahavairocana itself. Kukai called this sokushin jobutsu (即身成仏), “becoming a Buddha in this very body.” One may view Zen as situated just before that, yet its thinking differs completely from Kegon’s. Kegon’s next task is to reach level 10, but Zen holds that only gods or buddhas may know such a state and, with remarkable non-attachment, simply abandons aiming for it. This is the concept of teikan (諦観). Teikan does not mean “giving up” in a negative sense; it means “seeing the real.” Once you truly grasp the essence, you understand that humans cannot reach the dimension of Mahavairocana and therefore refuse to devote your life to an unrealistic pursuit.

Zen’s marrow, then, is teikan. When one understands this, one at last awakens (satori, 悟り) to the fact that no amount of cerebral effort or ritual practice can reach that realm known only to gods or buddhas. In truth, Zen—or better, life itself—begins from that point. When you think about Zen with your head or attempt to practice something “based on Zen,” it is already not Zen. Thinking and praxis sit furthest from Zen; they are bonno (煩悩, defilement). Escaping this is precisely what Zen attains. At that moment, through teikan, satori is gained.

Therefore, what does Zen do once it has reached that satori? It simply lives the everyday with care. Zen requires no pilgrimage to temples, no study of sutras, no lectures, not even books. Meditation is likewise unnecessary; if you feel you need quiet daily meditation, then quietly meditate—that is all. “Living carefully” and “trying to live carefully” are entirely different: the latter deploys the mind and again drifts away from Zen.

In a sense, Zen means freeing oneself from excessive faith in, and dependency on, the brain—that is gedatsu (解脱, liberation). Yet Zen itself preaches no gedatsu and gives no instruction; hence monks who truly understood this historically gave no doctrine or practice to anyone. Daisetz Suzuki was the first to convey this clearly to the world, in Introduction to Zen Buddhism.

Even the phrase “Zen philosophy” is merely a convenience; there is no theoretical method inside it, and if there were, it would not be Zen. Set aside the countless “Zen-styled packages” of today: Zen requires no imitation. Just live your own life attentively; that alone is living, and that alone is Zen. Esoteric Buddhism may regard even that state as insufficient, but that belongs to a step beyond and, for modern people trapped in a dopamine-addicted society, is of scant use. I am no Zen monk, have never studied Zen formally, yet one can still arrive at Zen’s truth without such things.

Simply live your daily life attentively. That is, by nature, each person’s differing life. When you notice this most elementary thing, you take the first step out of the trap of modernity—without comparing yourself, without chasing social success, but living out your own heaven-assigned mission. Zen is always open to all, needs no place, creed, or special requirement. Use no brain; therein lies the final key to breaking the endless cycle of modernity. Head-driven post-modernism and its ideologies save no one, but only increase confusion.

Your life is not my life. If you grasp that Zen is here, that is quite enough.