20 /108 Gates of Dharma Illumination

[Shokai]

一百八法明門
IPPYAKUHACHI-HOMYOMON
One Hundred and Eight Gates of Dharma-Illumination

[20] Reflection on there being no-self is a gate of Dharma-illumination; for [with it] we do not
taintedly attach to self.

Buddhism's "no-self" theory teaches there's no permanent, unchanging soul or essence within an individual, but rather a temporary, interdependent collection of five aggregates (form, feelings, perceptions, mental formations, consciousness) that constantly change, making the idea of a fixed "self" an illusion that causes suffering through clinging; understanding this impermanence and emptiness of self is key to liberation. It's not denying a person exists conventionally, but rejecting the notion of a solid, independent entity behind our changing experiences, viewing "self" as a useful label for a dynamic process.

Once again, being a very basic Buddhist concept, how did you feel/respond when first were confronted with "no-self" and what did you do about it in your practice.


合掌,生開
gassho, Shokai
stlah
仁道 生開 / Jindo Shokai
"Open to life in a benevolent way"

[Tenryu]

When I was first confronted with the idea of no-self, it didn't feel shocking or threatening. It felt strangely familiar. When I look closely, I can't point to a single thing and say, 'this is my self'. What I experience instead is something faceted and shifting, without a solid center to hold on to.

I sometimes think of the self like the scales on a butterfly's wings. They create colour and pattern, yet none of them are permanent. Butterflies constantly lose scales as they live and move, to the point where they eventually can't fly anymore. That image speaks to me about impermanence. What we take to be identity is fragile, changing, and slowly wearing away, even as life continues.

In practice, I don't try to solve this conceptually. Sitting Zazen lets this impermanence be felt directly. Attachment loosens not because something is destroyed, but because there is less to hold on to. What remains is functioning, without the need to fix it as 'me'. That feels less like loss, and more like ease.

Gasshō,
Patrick
st and lah

[Tairin]

Thank you Shokai

No self is definitely a concept I initially struggled with. It is hard to imagine a time were Tairin doesn’t exist. But I think it was Okumura Roshi who really lit the bulb for me when he talked about not being the same person as the childhood picture of himself. That’s when I realized that indeed there is no enduring Tairin. Heck before Jukai and being given the name Tairin, Tairin didn’t even exist. That was only 8 years ago.


Tairin
sat today and lah

[Choujou]

No-self, or interbeing depending on perspective, is what actually brought me to Zen. Years ago while using a meditation close to zen I had discovered after a profound spiritual experience (which was a little paranormal, so I usually refrain from telling the story as I don’t want to make anyone uncomfortable.), I got my first taste of experiencing no-self. It was so profound and yet I had no way to describe it, nor did I know what it was I had experienced. I was raised Episcopalian, so the concept of no-self was something completely foreign to me at the time. My experience was confusing as I had no frame of reference to even conceptualize it. It wasn’t until I did a study on Zen when I went back to school a few years later, that I realized what it was I had experienced. It was then that I knew that Zen was the path I was to walk.
In my practice, to me, this is a fundamental aspect to it… having had this experience before undertaking formal practice I think allowed me an easier acceptance and integration of not only the concept, but also experience of no self into practice and my overall perspective of life. I do realize, however, that this is probably not the “normal” experience… but what else would expect from someone named “beyond normal”?

Gassho,
Choujou

sat/lah today

[Shokai]

Bumping up

[Seikan]

When I think about the concept of no-self (anatta), I still experience various degrees of unease and even a bit of fear (fear of loss?). Yet, in those very, very rare fleeting moments when I have experienced it directly (just the tiniest, most minuscule of glimpses), it felt perfectly natural; free and easy.

Patrick said it very well above (my boldface for emphasis):

In practice, I don't try to solve this conceptually. Sitting Zazen lets this impermanence be felt directly. Attachment loosens not because something is destroyed, but because there is less to hold on to. What remains is functioning, without the need to fix it as 'me'. That feels less like loss, and more like ease.

Gassho,
Seikan
stlah

[Chikyou]

When I first encountered the concept of no-self, I was relieved. I didn’t feel I had much of a solid sense of self at the time; so I thought “I’m off the hook”! In hindsight, this was almost certainly some spiritual bypassing on my part. With practice, however, my experience shifted. Grounded in the Dharma, I now have a steadfast understanding of my values, and in that way, a sense of “self”. But I’m not attached to it. I know growth and change happens, rebirth over and over (and over!) again. One great cosmic ocean.

Gassho,
SatLah,
Chikyō

[dorgan]

No-self (muga 無我) The belief that there is a soul and that those we have loved will be reunited in heaven is a strong Western sentiment, and is often held even by those who do not consider themselves religious or spiritual. When Westerners first encounter Buddhism and decide to take it seriously, not just to learn meditation techniques, but to embrace what it says and implies about reality, it is natural for confusion and disorientation to occur. The teaching of no-self (muga 無我) strikes at the core of our deepest assumptions about life and reality.

Rather than trying to intellectually grasp or believe in no-self, Soto Zen emphasizes Shikantaza (just sitting); direct observation: notice thoughts, sensations, and emotions arising and passing without a fixed owner; patience with confusion: let the teaching work on you through practice rather than forcing understanding. Dogen's approach is that no-self isn't something to believe in but rather something to realize by letting the body-mind drop away in zazen. The practice itself demonstrates no-self rather than requiring you to convince yourself of it.

The ordinary sense of self functions as a kind of gap, a separation. We experience ourselves as standing here, looking at the world over there. This separation, subject gazing at object, is so habitual that we take it as the nature of reality. In Genjōkōan, Dogen writes: “Conveying the self to the myriad things to verify them is delusion. The myriad things advancing to verify the self is enlightenment;" that is, things come forward and meet you. The self doesn't disappear, it becomes porous, receptive, no longer fortified; interpenetrating and interdependent. Again, from the Genjōkōan: “Enlightenment is like the moon reflected in water. The moon does not get wet, nor is the water broken. Although its light is wide and great, the moon is reflected even in a puddle an inch wide. The whole moon and the entire sky are reflected in dewdrops on the grass, or even in one drop of water." This image speaks to intimacy and no-self together. The moon doesn't try to enter the water; there's no effort or gap. The water doesn't grasp at the moon. Yet they meet completely. The moon is fully present in each dewdrop without being diminished. Your "self" is like this, fully present in each moment, each encounter, without being a fixed thing that could be diminished or enhanced. The self we cling to is a story connecting past and future through a persistent but illusory "me."

Non-thinking" (hishiryō 非思量) isn't a blank mind. It's the mind before it divides into thinker and thought, self and world. In that non-division, the cushion holds you, the breath breathes, the sounds arrive without anyone standing apart to receive them. No-self isn't a loss. The constructed “self” is exhausting, always defending, comparing, acquiring, and worrying. Its dissolution isn't death but relief. Intimacy names what's revealed: you were never separate from this life. The dewdrop was always holding the moon.

Being-Time (Uji 有時) . . . from Dogen’s Uji fascicle: “The time we call spring blossoms directly as an existence called flowers. The flowers, in turn, express the time called spring. This is not existence within time; existence itself is time." Each moment is complete. You don't exist in time as a thing persisting through it; you are this time, this moment. The "self" as a continuous thread is a construction overlaid on being-time. When that overlay relaxes, there's just this moment, a singularity of experiencing, intimate, immediate, lacking nothing. Time is not a 4th dimension, a container for becoming; being and time converge and are one.

Excerpted from “Beyond Birth and Death,” by Thich Nhat Hanh: “When you touch one moment with deep awareness, you touch all moments. According to the Avatamsaka Sutra, if you live one moment deeply, that moment contains all the past and all the future in it. "The one contains the all." Touching the present moment does not mean getting rid of the past or the future. As you touch the present moment, you realize that the present is made of the past and is creating the future. Touching the present, you touch the past and the future at the same time. You touch globally the infinity of time, the ultimate dimension of reality. When you drink a cup of tea very deeply, you touch the present moment, and you touch the whole of time [that is, you transcend time]."

gassho, david
stlah

[Dainei]

I struggled with the concepts of self and no-self as i was learning. But as i gradually have come to a limited understanding, I want to say no-self is actually very reassuring but that doesn't quite seem right. There's not a me or I but me or I are connected to everything, are everything. The words can't capture the feeling 'in the bones' as Jundo says.

Gassho,
Dainei
Sat