Empty Hand Zen Center

On January 3^rd 2010 Craig died in my arms at home, surrounded by our family and wrapped in love. He had lived with brain cancer for exactly three years. How can I describe a life that was so well lived- lived with fullness and deep devotion to others? How can I distill the essence of Craig here in a few short paragraphs?

I can tell you that he was an incredibly active man with places to go. Craig was born in Needham, MA in 1952.  He attended Boston University and graduated in 1978 with a BA in Urban Studies and Economics. He received an academic scholarship to study Urban Planning at Rutgers University and graduated magna cum laude with an MS in Urban and Regional Planning. For the last seven years he was the Commissioner Of Development for the City Of New Rochelle, and committed to, as well as excited by, his career. He invested deeply in the many groups he was involved in, both professional and in his personal time, including his growing practice at the Empty Hand Zen Center. He had four sons and a daughter that he loved dearly. Craig could run like the wind. He read daily. He listened to NPR religiously and loved music. He talked politics, debated, joked wickedly and hilariously and laughed often. Craig adored chocolate ice cream, the ocean, biking from the George Washington Bridge down to the site of Ground Zero and back again, driving his car and taking adventures. He could endlessly walk through art exhibits and galleries and also appreciate cities and large monuments of urban stone and cement. He was an extremely intellectually gifted man and critical thinker.

Well known in his professional life, Craig received many honors, awards and citations for his service to the people for things such as historical preservation and the work he did to further affordable housing. However awards and acknowledgements were not the things Craig thrived on. He preferred working in the public sector and what was important for Craig was his service to others; personal acknowledgement was not the point. He constantly reminded himself that he was not important, rather he told me that his purpose in this lifetime was to do for others at the outset; to awaken with selfless acts in the forefront of his thinking and planning, to do whatever was needed to help heal or provide for another. As he endeavored to do these things, he also found great healing. He believed strongly that we are all one, there is no differentiation and so we are all connected to one another. As he healed himself and supported others the ripples of these actions would continue outwards through all of humanity.

Craig understood and embodied that all that is truly meaningful and sacred in our lives is about love. His illness and death drove that point home more than anything else. We can lose everything material and physical that we are attached to in life, yet it is the love that we give that matters the most. Love is what is really inside all of us when we arrive on earth and what is left when we leave our physical bodies.

Craig was a prolific journal writer and besides documenting his runs- 100 mile months that he so enjoyed- the animals he often met along the way, as well as the Northern Lights he once was able to observe awestruck, he also documented his journey into awareness and growth. As his cancer worsened Craig lost his ability to write with his right hand and taught himself to write with his left. Eventually he could no longer journal so he put down his feelings and thoughts in left handed haikus for as long as he could.  Looking back at his writings I can see that he had started his spiritual practice back in 1990 and his Zen practice began in the year 2000. Craig found the EHZC in 2003 when he moved to New Rochelle and started sitting in earnest then, making his practice the context for his life in which he could grow and where he could learn to be present and to open his heart until it was of limitless dimensions.

He believed in his connection to goodness and just simply unconditional love. He often told to me to believe that we are surrounded by love.  When things went wrong he would say, “It’s all good.” Yet he was a realist, and he had no doubt that the world could seem random, and that pain, suffering and attachment were the human condition.  He wrote once that he had been at a retreat at Garrison Institute where Nonin Chowaney had also been giving a dharma talk. Craig recounted in his journal the quintessence of what he came away with after that weekend and what he would put into effect in his life: that enlightenment can come and go like the flowers and disillusionment crops up like weeds. Because of that he realized his commitment to the Four Noble Truths and the Eight Fold Path would have to be constantly renewed.  Craig understood that perseverance, patience, and practice was the path he would need to walk towards awareness, while looking deeply inwards and experiencing fully the pain, the joy and the peace that it can bring.

In October 2005 Susan presided over our beautiful wedding ceremony in NYC incorporating Zen Buddhism seamlessly into a ceremony for many non Buddhists. Everyone found it incredibly moving, funny too, when Craig pretended that we bumped our heads together as we bowed to each other.  In March 2009 after we found that Craig’s brain cancer had spread and that it was very likely that his time in our physical world as we know it would then be short, we renewed our vows at the Zendo in New Rochelle, the first wedding to be held within those walls.

Craig received Jukai in November 2008 and was given the name Kyusen (Enduring River). He was the first in his class to give a “Way Seeking Mind” talk to the sangha, and he spoke of  Kyogen’s “Man Up A Tree” koan. “This is life,” Craig wrote in his preparation. “We are both in the tree and the questioner. There is no other. I want great meaning and I stand there beneath the tree staring and thinking that this great suffering will distill truth. I am suffering the agony of life, the agony of choice and I am speechless. Indeed, what is one to do”?  Perhaps this haiku Craig wrote left handed will provoke some thought about that issue:

It’s life on life’s terms

Nothing withheld – all given

Don’t give up- let go

All too quickly as Craig’s brain cancer became more advanced Craig lost his ability to do all the things he loved and valued in life and which until then had given his life so much meaning. First as his hand and arm became paralyzed his writing suffered and then failed.  Craig’s leg started to become weak so his running stopped, then biking stopped, then walking. He had to give up his beloved car and the freedom of driving.  His ability to speak began to fail and finally to even tell jokes. He became unable to say but a few words, and lost most of his sight. Craig did mourn these losses deeply-  but his continuing practice of non attachment helped him as the physical parts of his life were stripped away- gracefully he accepted and surrendered to his experience until only the bare spirit remained in his wounded body- his spirit of love, giving, patience, and goodness was what was left. He truly lived in the moment and his understanding of what was meaningful in life deepened immeasurably, it became all about communicating his loving strength to others so they in turn could find their own inner strength and love.

Even at the end of his life every day he received visitors, hugged them with whatever strength he had left in his one arm, encouraged his friends to talk and seek within themselves for what was important and how to live their lives. He made it his purpose in life to show his love in every way that he could- to continue to grow, to transform- and he shone with the light of a million stars from within. He was luminous and all that beautiful pure light surrounded us as we sat with him and lived with him. It was not about death- it was about life! Until he could no longer speak anymore he said “I love you to everyone”, and then he showed us all his love with his eyes, his expressions, and his entire beingness even from his death bed for as long as he could open his eyes.  Caring for Craig, and his allowing us to care for him so completely and intimately, also became a lesson for us all in acceptance, presence, giving and unconditional love. We were all connected.

Throughout his process of dying Susan, Dennis, Glynn and Craig’s Dharma brothers and sisters continued to visit. Craig could often be seen in deep contemplation with Susan as she sat with him and they looked into each other’s eyes, or with Dennis leaning forehead to forehead and communing deeply without the need for words. During his last days Susan was in almost constant attendance and sat and breathed in tandem with Craig. On the day he died, when Craig was no longer outwardly conscious, we all gathered around his bedside and chanted sutras and dharanis. I could see Craig breathing in rhythm to the Sho Sai Myo Kichijo Dharani, the chant to remove hindrances.

 I will leave you with one of Craig’s last haikus:

Life is Terminal

Blossoms fall and weeds grow wild

Enjoy the ride dude

We want to thank the entire Sangha for your continued prayers, visits, thoughts and the healing energy and care you have showered on Craig and our family. It enriched Craig’s life and gave him spiritual guidance and support so that he could transition peacefully as he was gathered and held in your loving embrace. It has been a bittersweet, but never the less, beautiful lesson for us in being present, accepting life as it is, and in the experience and connection of a loving community.

From Craig Kyusen King's 49th Day Memorial Service, February 27th, 2010

 Unless noted otherwise, all photos are courtesy of Sandra Seirin Laureano.

The following interview with Sandra Seirin Laureano occurred over the phone and through email. Sandra started sitting with the Empty Hand Zendo in 1995. She received Jukai in 2001 before returning to Puerto Rico. After encouragement from Susan Jion Postal, Sandra’s teacher, El Grupo Zen de Cupey was created in April 9, 2008.

The above title refers to a dharma talk written for the Grupo Zen de Cupey, available in both English, "Nothing Missing,"  and in Spanish, "Nada Falta," both available here (scroll down to the titles once you get to the page.).  There is also a sutra book in Spanish, Libro de Sutras, available here.

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Catherine Seigen Spaeth:  You moved back to Puerto Rico to take care of your mother?

Sandra Seirin Laureano:  Yes, we frequently bypass death and dying while we are growing up and then it’s all around us, frequently, frequently.  We reach a certain age and our parents are ill and dying.

My father passed while I was living in the States. I would come to Puerto Rico and spend a week to ten days and go back to New York, and then no sooner than I got home, I would have to fly back.  A friend whom I consider a sister, we’ve shared most of our lifetime, took care of my parents when I was away, and would call me and say “He’s calling for you and wants to see you!”   I was in this process for about a month and a half. I had taken a three month leave from work to take the national board exams for my acupuncture practice.  On the last trip I returned to New York on a Tuesday; my exams were that following weekend.  Dad died Wednesday morning. I remember walking into the exam room, a ballroom in a hotel, and thinking “there’s no way I can pass these exams without your help dad.” He gave me a hand and I passed the exams. 

And then I decided that I didn’t want to repeat that experience with my Mom, I took those exams in October 1998.  I graduated from acupuncture school in 1999, two weeks after my son graduated from high school.  I waited for him to get used to being away from home and in college and when he was in his sophomore year I returned home to Puerto Rico, on April 4^th 2001.

Sangha members of El Grupo Zen de Cupey attending a ceremony for the viewing of relics in Puerto Rico.

CS: The Zen Group was started in April 2008, so there was a big gap of time between when you moved to Puerto Rico and when you decided to formally have a sitting group.  What was the transition like from that arrival in Puerto Rico, and deciding that you wanted to have a sangha?

SL: There were several years when I experienced different Buddhist traditions in Puerto Rico. Meanwhile, I was visiting New York regularly and sat at the Empty Hand Zendo and kept in touch with Susan.

I looked around in Puerto Rico for a place that I would feel part of and comfortable in, there are many centers in Puerto Rico I discovered, but they are mostly in the Tibetan line; they are much more ornate and into ritual, they are not as silent as we are.  It was difficult.  I talked about it with Susan and we talked about how, in a way, I needed to let go of attachment, attachment to a particular way of practice. When I visited with her during the fall 2007 sesshin, she said to me, “You know, you’ve looked around and you haven’t found a place yet. Why don’t you start a sitting group, start sitting with other people and see how it goes?”   

I called Gloria, a woman who I had been in a Buddhist reading group with and said “I want to start a sitting group in the Soto Zen tradition and want to know if you’re interested.” On April 9^th 2008 we had our first sitting as a community, there were seven of us.

Many things came together in those weeks. In a previous trip to visit Susan we had visited an antique store in Mamaroneck and we had both fallen in love with a Jizo statue most adequate for my acupuncture room.  My partner brought back a wooden carved Buddha from Indonesia in 2000. I moved from my house in the suburbs of Cupey to Old San Juan. However, the house in Cupey  continued being the place of my acupuncture practice, and it had plenty of empty space. 

Nine months after sitting began I moved my mother to the house in Cupey so she could be better cared for. At that time she was 92 and had senile dementia.

Now it all blends, sangha, acupuncture practice and my mother’s care. And it all started with Susan really listening and saying “Why don’t you start your own sitting group and see how it goes?”. And we’ve been sitting ever since.

Like with all sanghas, it’s been a process; some people stopped coming, new people came and started sitting. Initially we started sitting on towels and cushions, in May 2008 we decided to buy cushions. I talked to Susan about it and she allowed us to use the 501(c) 3 non-profit status as an affiliate and we bought what we needed  so now it looks like a real zendo.

Martha and Pedro bathing the Buddha at a relics ceremony and viewing in Puerto Rico.

What’s been really good is that Mom moved into the house with her caregivers. Luisa, one of the main caretakers had been practicing Vajrayana on and off for several years and is also a Reiki teacher.  She started sitting as soon as they moved into the house and has been a real pillar of our sangha. Together with Gloria, we have a strong continuous space for persons seeking quiet and stillness. 

CS:  How has gathering a sangha altered and strengthened your own practice as a Buddhist?

SL:  It’s all about letting go of ideas, perceptions, expectations, and desires. When we embark on a project of any nature we of course have expectations, desires and ideas as to how it should progress. Our small self immediately analyzes what’s going wrong, what we are doing wrong, or not doing.

Sitting practice helps us deal with crushed expectations, unfulfilled desires and erroneous ideas. But creating a space where people can come and experience stillness doesn’t necessarily mean that the people we invite are ready to experience it. So it’s been a continuous process of trying to not have expectations about how many people arrive or how long they stay.

Others will arrive at their own pace. Ideas of whether I’m ready to facilitate sitting in silence and stillness is a recurrent question that I try to look at and not answer. The relation between my own practice/understanding and people’s arrival also is a recurrent theme.

So the house where I used to live has become a space that accommodates many different needs for those who are near it; it’s been a real blessing to have the space.  Right now we have around five regular sitters. Last year when we had our first anniversary we had nine people that came to sit and shared tea and cookies afterward. Late last year we visited the Buddhas’ relics and there were 13 of us. For half day retreats we’ll have five to seven people.  2010 is the first year that we will have pre-set dates through the year for our retreats.  We receive dana, and we’ve been able to help Haitians affected by the 2008 floods and the 2010 earthquake. We’ve also supported East Asian immigrants who were abandoned in 2009.  We are now thinking of buying additional zafus for the zen group.

From Puerto Rico, Sandra and Gloria together at the October 2008 Empty Hand Zen Center retreat in Garrison, New York.

CS: How have you remained in touch with Empty Hand and what has this meant to you?

SL:  Susan’s guidance and support have been essential to what has grown here.  She and I have been reading Dogen together back and forth over the phone, and we speak about what touches us and inspires our practice.

I usually give her an update on what is happening and she provides feedback and offers suggestions. Her encouragement to get the word out about our zen group has been helpful as well. We produced a flyer and distributed close to 400 copies. Susan has also prepared dharma talks specifically for our group, which I have translated into Spanish. At times someone that sits with us will have a question for Susan that I will pass on.  She and I talk about it and I bring back a response.

CS:  As you describe the house your mother is very nearby through all of this, how is she a part of all that’s happening there?

SL:  My mother came when she had already started showing signs of senile dementia. I think it’s been great for her because when she moved into the house she was very hyper, and I’ve tried to keep her on minimal necessary medication; we work with homeopathic remedies, reiki, massages and music. The peacefulness that comes with sitting practice has benefitted her. Although she manifests episodes of hyperactivity it is no longer fearful or tearful.  She has moved on to a very peaceful kind of just being there in the house; she’s not anxious, she smiles, she’ll dance, she danced with me yesterday.   She’s moved to this better place which is good, I think she has benefited unknowingly from the practice, from the energy that is here.

The whole body is a mouth

Hanging in space

Not caring which way the wind blows

east, west, south or north

All day long it speaks

of Prajna Paramita for everyone

ting-ton, ting-ton, ting-tong 

One Wednesday, in our Introductory evening a few weeks ago, we briefly looked at this famous poem, entitled Windbell, by Dogen’s teacher, Rujing. Sensing that this bell is still ringing here, that this poem has more to tell us, I am picking up its teaching again.

Throughout Zen history, so many poetic word-pictures have been given to inspire us, to give us a clue about what the Buddha’s teaching actually means for us, now.  Today we have this bell, hanging like an open upside-down mouth.  I looked at a few translations, one says “The bell looks like a mouth, gaping.” This certainly gives us strong sense of the wide-openness, the receptivity. When we are completely surprised, completely clueless, we might say “my mouth fell open” – this is gaping, a kind of physical expression of not-knowing.  However, I have gravitated to this translation, “The whole body is a mouth hanging in space.”  I appreciate the reminder of whole-body-presence in our practice.  I also appreciate that it says “is” not “looks like”, and finally it is clearly out there, hanging in space. Not some internally contained little bell that rings in our heart, but out there – freely functioning in space.

And then the pivotal point – not caring from which direction the wind blows – north, south, east or west.  Not holding to preference, not sticking to agenda, not holding any gaining idea, not investing in any point of view, any belief –in short, no clinging. And also there is no aversion - no rejection out of fear, no pushing away with criticism, no turning away with dislike.  This wide mouthed bell simply continues to ring, to respond, to give expression to what is true which ever way the winds are swirling.   This is the realized life.  Winds can carry noxious odors, sweet perfume of lilacs, cold sleet and snow, howling hurricanes.  To be fundamentally OK with what we do not like, could not possibly like, is the teaching of this Windbell.   Taking rest in deep spacious mind is not dependent on conditions, on the direction of the wind blowing our way.   This is the lesson brought home to many of us recently by our dear Sangha Member, Craig King, as he was dying from brain cancer.  As his physical condition deteriorated, he began to manifest such presence, such love. With his one strong arm he hugged tightly, with his one good eye he made powerful eye-contact. As his speech failed, we “talked” eye to eye with deep meditative intimacy. He was shining forth for us all, ringing clearly, as he entered the time of transition and passing. There is no way to like the particular wind that rattled his family, his friends, his dharma brothers and sisters to the core. Yet somehow his years of practice allowed him to continue opening up his heart/mind wider and wider as his body became weaker and weaker.

Craig’s gift to us, just like this poem, offers a glimpse into the functioning of Prajna, our own intrinsic intuitive wisdom. The bell hosts the wind, takes in all winds, and responds directly.    Let’s be like that with each other here – empty bells hanging in space. Leaving the Zendo, let’s be this way with our life, whole body ringing, giving out our own intimate expression.

This is an abbreviated version of the dharma talk.  In order to listen to the full teisho please click here and scroll down to "Which Ever Way."    For the pdf version of the full dharma talk, please click here and scroll down to "Which Ever Way."
 

All photos courtesy of Officer Fudge, New Rochelle Police Department

By Annecy Baez

On Thursday, November 19th, the scent of hot spiced cider and ginger cookies permeated the air as I entered the Empty Hand Zen Center.  The Center was crowded with 25 long-legged youth as they took off their sneakers and lined them next to each other on the shoe stand.  Eagerly they spoke to each other in hushed voices, and whispers. Spearheaded by Detective Fudge, the Coordinator of the Law Enforcement Explorer program for youth at the New Rochelle Police Department, these Explorers undergo training in diverse areas of police work. This program emphasizes career development, life skills, and leadership experience. On that day, the Explorers were there to explore Zen meditation and learn more about the Empty Hand Zen Center.

Two armed police officers stood by, while another officer, off duty and dressed in civilian clothing, took the role of photographer. Meanwhile, Detective Fudge and Detective Smith stayed close giving instructions to their students. Finally, the youth entered the Zendo and fanned out in a semi circle as they listened to our teacher and founder, Susan Jion Postal, and priest Dennis Shofu Keegan welcome them to the Zen Center and give instructions as to how we would proceed. I was eager to join three other members of the Empty Hand Zen Center, Catherine Spaeth, Gregg Hill, and James Stewart to help the students with sitting and walking meditation instructions and to share with them how meditation practice has helped us in our own lives.

The first instructions were on placing palms together and offering standing bows. Bowing was introduced as sign of respect and as an expression of gratitude. The students bowed to their zafu and each other, and then sat. Some laughed as they tried to twirl their legs into a lotus pose, their long legs defying their attempts.  Finally, some sat crossed legged, others knelt on round zafus, while others sat quietly on low wooden benches and the tall big guys sat on chairs or high benches.  Instructions were given on upright sitting, and the mentors went around checking their posture, while Dennis assisted students by gently taking their heads and stretching them up. This made some students laugh, but quickly upright sitting was achieved. Once all of the students were sitting upright, they were taught the mudra, their left upright palm on top of right upright palm and thumbs slightly touching each other. The students took these instructions seriously, and soon we had twenty five youth sitting upright with beautiful mudras.

Our teacher, Susan talked about the Buddha - his dissatisfaction with his life of wealth and power, his escape from the palace and entrance into the world of forest monks, his profound realization. She also outlined a bit of the history of Buddhism as it traveled from India to China, where it was known as Chan, and from China to Japan where it was known as Zen. The students listened attentively, and this brief history led us to the practice of Zazen which began with three rings on the large bell.  The students sat quietly.  They were there present and eager to learn. I glanced around the room and saw serene faces.

In silence they sat until the closing bell, and we all rose in unison and Kinhin, walking meditation, began. Susan showed them how to move their feet in accordance with their breath, one small step a time. Walking slowly in a single file around the front row of zafus the students followed each other, each breath a step, each step a breath.

Sitting after Kinhin, we spoke about our practice. One student acknowledged that she didn't have a stressful life like an adult, but explained that she still felt stressed with her life as it was. How does the practice assist in these moments?

A lot was said from Empty Hand members regarding how meditation has helped their lives.  Zen practice enables us to express our inner wisdom and compassion. It expands our awareness and in this space of awareness we can hold what life brings to us. Stress or suffering ends when we give space to things as they are, when we acknowledge it, welcome it, and respect it. When we are able to do this, our actions come from this wise place that is forever knowing and present within us.

After our talk, the students were introduced to voice meditation, chanting, and we chanted Namu Dai Bosa (being one with the boundless awakened ones) with strong energetic voices.

The evening ended with apple cider and ginger cookies  which we served to the students in silence. This meditation in mindful eating was much appreciated as the students sipped on their hot apple cider and chewed on their crunchy ginger cookie.

Afterwards, we shared this experience with each other. Some students spoke of the profound peace they sensed upon entering the Center. Others spoke about the peace they felt while sitting, while others spoke of wanting to return to learn more about this practice of Zen. Whether or not we will ever see these young faces again, I sincerely felt that the experience of sitting for this moment in time with us would stay with them somehow. To practice Zen is to learn to be present with what life has to offer. May this brief Zen experience open these young exploring minds to this awareness and help them begin to discover that the peace of mind they seek is right here.

After the thanks and goodbyes, Susan expressed how deeply she was moved, how she has rarely experienced such discipline and effort in high school groups.  Further, she realized that these Explorers had chosen to be "good guys", to be upright citizens, to help society and support the law.  Their efforts to find a way to be responsible and caring human beings was evident.  That the Police would come to us for help in their mission to support these kids is something she had never ever anticipated. When Detectives Fudge and Smith came to visit and finalize plans a few weeks before their visit, Susan asked if this trip was part of a World Religious study or tour of all the houses of Worship in New Rochelle. "No," Detective Fudge replied, " I want you to teach them to calm their minds."  

By Fran Shalom

The fun started after lunch when we began setting up for Dairyu Michael Wenger’s “free-stroke” ink brush workshop. Michael has been brush painting for many years and refers to his work as “inklings.” We were all excited to take part. Everyone became busy, clearing the zendo of zabutons and zafus, replacing them with tables and chairs. The tables then were covered with newspaper and each person received the necessary tools: Chinese ink brushes, thick and thin; plastic dishes that held black ink; two water bowls, one for mixing and one for cleaning brushes. Stones of varying sizes were passed around to use as paperweights. The preparation was filled with anticipation and a little trepidation.

Michael came in and handed out paper and then gave instructions: make a free stroke on the paper, without thought or calculation. He gave a demonstration, making it look effortless. We were encouraged to be bold and loose.

The room suddenly became very quiet. People stood by their paper, intent, concentrated, brushes poised above papers as we waited for inspiration to create the first “free stroke”. But, as soon as brush hit paper, the tension dissipated, and was replaced with whimsical playfulness and childlike exuberance.

Shunryu Suzuki wrote in Zen Mind, Beginner’s Mind: “When you do something, if you fix your mind on the activity with some confidence, the quality of your state of mind is the activity itself. When you are concentrated on the quality of your being, you are prepared for the activity”.

Everyone was involved in a creative practice and thoroughly enjoying themselves. It felt like a room of seven year olds set free with finger paints, encouraged to let their imaginations run wild. The energy was palpable. When we finished the first paintings, we had a show and tell. Michael went around the room and had us describe the image and give it a title. The titles ran the gamut, from “Downward-facing Guitarist” and “Donkey Moon” to “Flower” and “Mistake”. Some of the paintings were hard to decipher, but all were delightful.

After a tea break, Michael had us work with partners. One person made a brushstroke then the other until both agreed that the piece was finished and properly titled. The workshop ended with a look at the best of our “inklings” which were hung on the shoji screen in the zendo. At the end of the workshop, we each had a pile of our very own “masterpieces” to take home.

Our Thanks to Dairyu Michael Wenger who gave us the gift of an afternoon of creative play, a continuation of our morning practice and a wonderful end to the weekend. It made going out into the evening rain, driving home, just a little bit easier…

Dogen put it succinctly: Those who see worldly life as an obstacle to Dharma see no Dharma in everyday actions. They have not yet discovered that there are no everyday actions outside of Dharma.