The Complicated Modern Life

In his chapter on “Chan and Modern Life” (collected in Chan and Enlightenment),  Ven. Master Sheng Yen devotes some time to describing the problems that are peculiar to modern life. Among the ones he describes are “frequent changes and fast movements”, “endless desires”  due to “abundant material comforts”, “greater distance from each other”, and living under “constant stress and uncertainty.” (p.301). I think that what underlies this is a proliferation of the intellect. Survival nowadays almost seems to privilege the ability to reflect and to proliferate almost “endless” possibilities and choices. The entire knowledge industry is devoted to showing the many possibilities of thought. And I think the pressure of modern life is that people are trying to come up with new ways of seeing things, to suit the character of different kinds of people. As the society becomes more sensitive to different ways of seeing things (diversity), there is a much greater pressure to reveal the differences in the way people experience life, as well as how one can accommodate different perspectives. But with more perspectives is the greater possibility that conflict will arise.

There is not too much wrong with this trend in modern life, but I think that Master Sheng Yen hints that complexity conceals a basic existential way of being. As Sheng Yen writes, “The roots of the problem lie in the pain of being alive or of feeling forlorn, small, and helpless.” (ibid) One of the things I appreciate about this approach is that it tries to look at common characteristics of being human, rather than dividing people into different camps or schools. As soon as I identify a problem as being one way, I start to differentiate my view from another person who might have a different perspective on the problem itself. It is as though I am creating a viewpoint in order to protect myself against other viewpoints that might be different. In that way, I think ‘solving’ a problem one way creates another problem. The more I choose one way to think, the more estranged or defensive I might feel when another view is presented. It is like someone who runs to a temple to escape from being exposed to some kind of impure lifestyle. Sheng Yen reminds us that nothing really protects us. We are all a little bit forlorn and vulnerable. And I think it is okay to admit this and surrender to it in a sense. It is okay not to have answers, because the answers I do have only suit specific moments in time. They cannot protect me from the uncertainties of living. Once I can let go of the desire for certainties, I can stop trying to proliferate knowledge in order to control my life.

Master Sheng Yen doesn’t explore in too much detail here how we use Chan specifically to address the problems of modern life. In this chapter, he explores the orientation of looking inward to see the source of our problems as well as the solution. It’s just as well that this isn’t explained, because I think it’s an experience that is being hinted at. One of my favorite toys as a child was this glass ornament that contained little sparkles of ‘snow’ and a miniature scenery. The thing about this ornament is that no matter how hard you shake it, the snow invariably sinks to the ground. The joy one feels is being able to shake the ornament and watch the tiny sparkles of snow settle to the bottom, thus revealing the scenery in greater clarity. I think the strength of Chan and meditative practice is how it teaches people they don’t need to hold onto any thought. In fact, the clarity of an experience sometimes comes from the exact opposite, that is not really cherishing any thoughts at all. The unique aspect of meditative concentration is that it involves willingness not to be enthralled by a particular thought. There is no magic experience or solution in this process. It also involves a kind of trust and willingness to say that we already have ways of being in us that cannot be captured with a single thought.

 The wisdom that Chan speaks of is not ‘attainable’ because it isn’t some graduated structure of thinking. Were it so, this kind of thinking would invariably lead to some kind of inner conflict, because all structures are built in resistance to something. A building has the structure it has because it is trying to negotiate the natural forces of gravity and pressure. But Chan is operating from a place of “building” non-resistance and allowing people to trust that they don’t need to resist their own sense of being forlorn. In fact, forlorn can translate to a don’t-know mind which allows me to stay open to my experiences, and not feel a need to cover up experiences with some distraction or pleasing thought.

References

Shengyen (2014), Chan and Enlightenment. New York: Dharma Drum Publications