My take on this issue is this. The main
problem is this: the path involves a
change of attitude, and the fruit is
such a change of attitude, but all the
technique is a roundabout way to change
the attitude, however the technique has
to be performed with the change of
attitude in view, or somewhere near
there, otherwise the technique will not
lead to the hoped-for end, which is the
change in attitude. Often technique is
taken as an end in itself, and if the
practitioner is good with the technique,
it is assumed (or explicitly stated)
that he or she is successful, tout
court.
The difference can also be stated in
plain English as learning what to do
and learning how to be. In the former,
you go by steps, which are quite
specific, and you know. In the latter,
you absorb some culture, some way of
being. It is like apprenticeship, but
like apprenticeship in family, where
you learn what your ancestors behave,
how they live their lives, and you
live the same way. The Old One (Lao-zi)
does not teach technique but how to
live, how to be. It is not to learn
what to do with the external world, but
how to cope with the internal world.
To read Daisetz T. Suzuki is to read
an encyclopedia of know-how, what to do
with realities, which is completely off
the mark.
Here, there is a confusion of training
in know-how (like in engineering) and
training for a change in attitude.
Training in know-how is straightforward,
in that you learn the know-how, and by
learning the know-how, you learn the
trade. But training for a change of
attitude is entirely different, in that
the "from" attitude and the "to"
attitude are both hard to pin down, and
the path from the former to the latter
is even harder to pin down, even more
so to execute. Training in technique is
training in know-how, not a training
for a change in attitude, and success
in technique does not necessarily
translate into success in change in
attitude.
Not to go too far in the change of
attitude, but the ground-level
training can involve something as
simple as the patience (or constance,
Latin constantia) to take mere words
on the screen. Very few people on
these boards can take mere words on
the screen, regardless how long they
have been in spiritual training,
thirty or forty years or whatever.
But if they cannot take mere words on
the screen, their training has been
a failure, regardless of externalities.
They would have better spent their
time flying kites in parks.
Instead of fancy technique, like in
meditation, the students might be
taught directly in the change of
attitude, for example, just to relax
and be serene, to take it easy, to
open themselves up to the moment.
But such an approach would be
laughed off as trivial or naïve or
whatever. Yet the training is par
excellence to lead back to an
attitude that to normal people would
*be* trivial or naïve -- paying
attention to what happens without the
mediation of artifice (human customs,
personal habits, etc.). It is not in
what to do but *how to experience*,
afresh in every moment. Buddhism is
an existential teaching par
excellence.
Some specific gains in the path can
also be directly pointed out, for
example, the change from realism and
literalism to the absence of them.
But again, such a change is hard to
pin down, especially if the teacher
is realist and literalist, as such
a person would have trouble knowing
that he or she is realist and
literalist, A whole culture can well
resist such a change, for example
the Japanese society, which scarcely
allows for the examination of its
societal norms and standards. Thus
its norms and standards have to be
taken (and accepted) literally and
not questioned (this is called
conformism). If so, the abandonment
of realism and literalism is not
fostered, and even actively
inhibited or repressed. The
glorification of technique can go
well with such a societal view,
because then everybody can focus on
technique, to the detriment of the
consideration of attitudes.
The codification of technique, for
example the classification of
public cases and of the "correct"
answers to them, into lower and
higher classes, are signs of
rigidification, which runs counter
to the fluidity and ambiguity that
would be desirable for the ending of
suffering. Formalisation,
codification, turning the path
into a training in manners (bowing
and scraping), etc. are signs of
decadence, and they are all rife in
Japanese Zen.
Tang Huyen