The Way of the Modern Ronin, Part 19

 Essays and Thoughts on The Dokkodo
Part Nineteen
Do Not Seek to be Rich in Your Old Age

Bodhidharma sits facing the wall (Reigen Eto, 18th century) Bodhidharma is considered the founder of Zen Buddhism, and his "style" of meditation may be something that "helps" us with what we REALLY need for old age.

Although Musashi died at the "ripe old age" of 60 or 61 - there is some disagreement as to the date of his birth - he lived to be surprisingly old considering both his occupation and the number of duels that he participated in.  Most samurai - especially those who lived before the Tokugawa era - would have died at a significantly younger age.  Interestingly, it is only because Musashi lived to be so old (for a samurai) that he understood the wisdom of this musing.  With age does come wisdom in many cases, and so you can look at the whole of The Dokkodo in this same vein.  He knows the wisdom of these "precepts" because he has lived them until his "old age." He did not cling to things for his "retirement age" yet it didn't do anything to "hinder" him as a samurai who did grow old.  The opposite was, in fact, quite true: it helped instead of hindered.  I have no doubt that, when Musashi was a younger man, he had witnessed other young samurai "seek to possess" riches for their old age, but in so doing, they were concentrating on things other than preparing for battle.  And the warrior who didn't constantly prepare for battle would have died an early death.  Musashi saw such clinging not just as foolishness - which he no doubt believed it was - but as not following the Way.  If the samurai spends his days "collecting" instead of practicing with the sword, then when battle comes, he will be ill prepared.

We don't live in a time of constant warfare, as Musashi did.  But it is good that we have warriors such as Musashi, who did live in such a time (perhaps one of the bloodiest eras of Japanese history).  And it is good because we need to hear this wisdom; those of us who don't live in an era such as this.  Also, we live in a very, very materialistic world, a world where people do store up riches for their old age.

Much of the storing up of riches comes from FEAR.  It is fear of losing what we have, a seemingly innate sensation that there might not be enough when old age does come calling.  Of course, as with much of Musashi's wisdom, there is an antidote for this fear, and that is through letting go, from practicing non-attachment.

Roshi Richard Collins, in his book (that I have oft-quoted here) No Fear Zen, has this to say about the Buddhist - and therefore Zen - concept of non-attachment, which may help us to understand a better way forward in old age than holding on:

Non-attachment in the Buddhist sense doesn't mean you can't become involved in things; it doesn't mean you float around above the ground like some superior being.  On the contrary.  You're very much involved and you're part of the world, but that's not attachment, that's involvement, that's activity, that's feeling, that's emotion, and all those things are great.  But if you're attached to your attachment you won't let your children leave when they grow up, you won't let them out of your sight to go play in the yard; that's neurosis, that's attachment.  You're afraid something's going to happen to them and you're going to lose them and you become overprotective.  You suffer, and they suffer.

It is easy to see how this same kind of fear of losing applies to the "storing up of riches."  You will suffer - as will your training - if you are attached to your wealth, to your belongings, to things that you believe you might need in your old age.

But it is fear that holds us back.

Let me tell you something a little more personal that might help to bring this home a little bit.  When I was younger, I'm not sure if I feared anything other than losing.  I have been in martial arts for 40 years, and have been lifting weights for 35 years, so when I was in my "youth" my main fear was not winning.  Of course, the problem with this fear was that it was based on my ego.  Let's fast forward to about 20 years ago, when I was around 30.  At this time, I loved to still "win", but I no longer had that fear of losing that I had before.  I figured it had to do something with my natural maturing process (I had been married since I was 22, and had a family to take care of, so that is one of the BEST ways to mature a man).  I also figured that it must have something to do with my meditation practice, which I had been practicing regularly, on a daily basis, for a number of years. But if I would have really paid attention, then I would have noticed something else, as well:  there were other fears that I pushed down or ignored.  And pretty soon one of those fears would become one of the main concerns of my life.

In 2009, my wife and I separated.  She kept the house, and I had to pay child support - even though we had true joint custody, but, hey, that's Alabama for you.  And it was at this time that my primary fear became an anxiety-ridden constant gnawing at me.  I kept over and over seeing myself losing all of my money, so that I didn't have anything for old age.  I would lie down in bed at night, and the first image that would pop in my head was of me as a homeless old man living on the street!  I even dreamt that I was homeless, penniless more than a couple of times once I did fall asleep.

But it was entirely irrational and nothing more than fear.  I had plenty of money, my family is relatively wealthy, meaning that no one would ever let me starve or be homeless.  But no matter how rational I tried to be, this fear of somehow ending up desolate, broke, and dying alone on a street somewhere simply wouldn't leave me.  Not until I faced it, and dealt with it head on.  Because no fear will ever just "go away" until we actually face what it is that we are afraid of!  And I wanted to do anything other than face that fear.

One of the best ways to face your fear is to simply sit down and be with it.  This is where the practice of zazen (Japanese:禅), or more specifically, shikantaza, can help.  If you're familiar with other forms of meditation, then you probably have an idea of what you believe meditation to be - but I can almost guarantee you that it is not shikantaza.  Here is a quote I would like to share from the temporary Zen master Sokuzan, which I think might help to you to understand this meditation known as "just sitting":

Shikantaza is not about training your mind to be more calmful - though that may occur.  If you are looking for peace, then this kind of meditation is not going to help you.  Shikantaza is much more rough, rugged, and realistic than that and will take you right into the labyrinth of your karma.  For that ambitious undertaking, it seems necessary to have a solid discipline that summons you to sit down, hold still, and watch what happens in the mind stream without agreeing or objecting.  Shikantaza is a practice because you may have to watch yourself shut down, disagree, or ignore what arises in your mind over and over.  But you don't have to fix anything.  You don't have to correct anything.  You don't have to get better.  It's pretty good news - you don't have to be somebody else.  You get to be exactly who you are.*

For me, that is exactly what I had to do to begin moving beyond my fear of not having enough in old age.  But if you don't, here's another thing: you may not even be aware exactly what it is that you are afraid of.  We often think it's something that it's not, or we try to convince ourselves that it must be something else that is causing our anxiety or our depression, or just our general existential neurosis.  Only when we sit down and stare at the demon directly in the face will it go away.

That's the zazen of a warrior.  And that was the zazen of Musashi.

*From "108 Meditation Instructions and 6 Dharma Talks: A Foundational Guide to Zen Buddhist Meditation" by Sokuzan (from the book's introduction)