The Zen Impulse and the Psychoanalytic Encounter

Paul C. Cooper

• Publisher: Routledge
• Year: 2011
• eBook ISBN: 9781135840785
• Topic: Psychology
• Subtopic: Mental Health in Psychology
• Index: Psychology

Although psychoanalysis and Zen Buddhism derive from theoretical and philosophical assumptions worlds apart, both experientially-based traditions share at their heart a desire for the understanding, development, and growth of the human experience. Paul Cooper utilizes detailed clinical vignettes to contextualize the implications of Zen Buddhism in the therapeutic setting to demonstrate how its practices and beliefs inform, relate to, and enhance transformative psychoanalytic practice.

The basic concepts of Zen, such as the identity of the relative and the absolute and the foundational principles of emptiness and dependent-arising, are given special attention as they relate to the psychoanalytic concepts of the unconscious and its processes, transference and countertransference, formulations of self, and more. In addition, through an analysis of apophasis, a unique style of discourse that serves as a basic structure for mystical languages, he provides insight into the structure of the seemingly irrational Zen koan in order to demonstrate its function as a pedagogical and psychological tool.

Though mindful of their differences, Cooper's intent throughout is to illustrate how the practices of both Zen and psychoanalysis become internalized by the individual who engages in them and can, in turn, inform one another in mutually beneficial ways in an effort to comprehend the ramifications of an individual or collective expanding vision.

1
Riding the Elusive Ox of Zen:

Problems of Definition

I need to repeat that Zen refuses to be explained, but that it is to be lived.

—D. T. Suzuki (1949, p. 310)

Psychoanalysis is a lived emotional experience. As such it cannot be translated, transcribed, recorded, explained, understood or told in words. It is what it is.

—Thomas Ogden (2005, p. 1)

Introduction

In this chapter, I discuss Zen in an effort to shape a definition that is relevant to understanding the Zen impulse and the psychoanalytic encounter. The shape that unfolds is not static or emblazoned in stone and is subject to an ongoing fluid evolution as Zen develops over time in any given cultural context and in relation to an individual’s deepening awareness and understanding, which is an unrelenting, lifelong, and ongoing process. I approach this task from a personal experiential perspective, through the use of definitions of key themes found in the Zen literature and through comparison and contrast with psychoanalytic ideas. My emphasis is geared toward examining and clearing up some confusions and misconceptions that detract from a clear understanding and appreciation of Zen’s radical religious intention. For the psychoanalyst who is not familiar with Zen’s basic beliefs and practices, the material presented in this chapter will help contribute to understanding the Zen practitioner who seeks treatment. Additionally, I hope to expand further meaningful conversation between Zen and psychoanalysis.

An examination of the Zen literature reveals a complex, multifaceted, and diverse religion with varying sects, often in opposition. The question becomes what Zen is being described. This is further complicated by regional variations and by the experiential emphasis of Zen training, which becomes colored by the personality and interpretation of the particular teacher. For instance, we might ask whether we are speaking of the 11th-century Chinese Zen teacher Tai-hui’s tendency to derail dialogue or 13th-century radical Japanese Zen reformist Dogen’s efforts to expand dialogue. Another significant question that is germane to this discussion centers on whether one views Zen through the lens of quietist or insight-oriented introspectionist practices or some viable integrated form. Do practitioners of a particular sect believe in quick or gradual enlightenment? Does a particular sect emphasize mysticism, or does it take an iconoclastic position that seemingly negates all positions? Recently, for example, Barry Magid (2005) has written about the differences between what he describes as “top-down” and “bottom-up” Zen practice, which is essentially a critique of the Rinzai emphasis on a rigorous and increasingly intensified practice mediated by its subitist orientation. He is supportive of the more relaxed shikantaza “just sitting” practice associated with the Soto Zen tradition. This distinction has roots in a complex of cultural and historical factors that require elaboration in order to develop an informed discussion on the relation between Zen and psychoanalysis.^*

Much of the early psychoanalytic exposure to Zen was filtered through D. T. Suzuki’s teachings, which were Rinzai influenced and which emphasized the irrational, illogical, diachronic aspects in relation to koan study. However, his depiction of Zen shifted over the years. For example, he expresses ambivalence with regard to quietist and insight-oriented approaches over the span of his career. The specific entry point into the stream of his thought becomes crucial. Many of the later influences derived from the shikantaza approach that was traditionally associated with Dogen and the Soto tradition. While sectarian extremism exists in all religious systems, when thought of as operating along a continuum of emphasis, as the Zen scholar Steven Heine (1994) notes, the differences are not as extreme as they might initially appear.

I find it to be more fruitful to think of different Zen and psychoanalytic schools and their associated practices and beliefs as constituting what the Chilean psychoanalyst Ignacio Matte-Blanco (1975, 1988) describes as equivalence classes that include both identities and differences. We also need to think in terms of practice within a particular school. For example, within the context of a tradition that emphasizes koan study, new students are typically introduced to a basic concentration form of meditation in

* For elaboration see Gregory (1987).

order to strengthen the mind. Such experiences with quietist techniques would then influence how Zen is incorporated into psychotherapy, for instance, exclusively as a relaxation technique. Additionally, within a particular Zen sect, the influence of the teacher’s personality and particular slant will exert a strong influence on the student’s perception of Zen beliefs and practices. This influence can become quite profound as a result of the student’s tendency to idealize and identify with the teacher’s personality and particular style.

Etymology

Zen derives from the Japanese translation of the Sanskrit term dhyana, which means “concentration meditation” or “meditative absorption.” Zen is also known as Ch’an (Chinese), Thien (Vietnamese), and Seon or Son (Korean). This translation places practice and direct experience at the center of the Zen religious endeavor in contrast to other forms of Buddhism that developed in China and which relied on scriptural study and exegesis.

The evolution of Zen meditation, over time, represents a radical departure from its Indian Buddhist roots and associated meditation practices. A primary distinguishing factor is Zen’s sudden or direct approach to practice and to enlightenment that developed over time. The distinction between sudden and gradual approaches has been a source of sectarian dispute over the centuries (Gregory, 1987).

Structure

Since Zen is not a monolithic structure, it is important to keep in mind that while there is a historical continuity between Ch’an and Zen, and that the terms are often used interchangeably, there are many fundamental sociocultural and doctrinal differences between these systems, as they developed regionally and as different sects integrated various influences of indigenous religions. For example, Ch’an incorporates elements of Taoism. Zen, as it developed in Japan, was influenced by Shinto. Recently, a rapidly expanding interfaith Zen movement in the United States has integrated many Christian elements (Boykin & May, 2003; Habito, 2004; Johnston, 1976; Kennedy, 1996, 2004; Leong, 2001). Additionally, tremendous variations exist within sects, which have fueled debate and controversy over the centuries. For instance, the use of abbreviated language of the wato (shortcut) method of koan practice developed by Ta-hui in China exemplifies a radical emphasis on silence and koan study. In this tradition, koan study is directly connected to zazen in a practice referred to as kannazen (“koan concentration,” “koan meditation,” literally: “looking at language”). By contrast, in the Soto sect, koans are traditionally used as part of the teacher’s lectures and are kept separate from shikantaza practice. Presently in the West, teachers typically integrate the two approaches. This contemporary integration parallels scholarly research that indicates that the purported differences between different Zen sects might be more accurately understood as reflecting sectarian extremism more than serious differences in the day-to-day reality of practice.

Perspectives

Zen has been examined from many perspectives, including religion (Abe, 1985, 1990, 1992; D. T. Suzuki, 1949, 1972a, 1972b, 1994), philosophy (Glass, 1995; Stambaugh, 1999; Watts, 1957), academics (Faure, 1993, 1996; Heine, 1994, 2002, 2008), psychology (Fromm, 1950, 1956; Fromm, Suzuki, & DeMartino, 1960; Rosenbaum, 1998), physics (Soeng, 1996), and the arts (Blyth, 1942). Some authors describe Zen as a religion, but with the qualification that it is a religion that is not a religion. Of course, many writers note that Zen defies description and classification, which has contributed to nihilistic misperceptions of Zen.

With respect to the Zen impulse as a religious endeavor, American Zen master Phillip Kapleau (1966) offers this definition: “Briefly stated, Zen is a religion with a unique method of body-mind training whose aim is satori, that is, Self-realization … for as a Buddhist Way of liberation Zen is most assuredly a religion” (p. xv).

These diverse investigations, as Heine (2008) notes, “create significant discussion and debate about what constitutes the ‘real’ Zen” (p. 3). For example, my perspective and understanding derive from the bias of my own Zen and psychoanalytic practice and study.

Soteriological Intention

Zen’s radical soteriological intention, that is, its impulse toward salvation, as I see it, places its practices and beliefs in the domain of religion. However, Zen is not a religion in the sense of the word that religion is typically understood in a Western civilizational context. On this point, Japanese Zen scholar Masao Abe (1985) notes:

Zen may be said to be one of the most difficult religions to understand, for there is no formulated Zen doctrine or theological system by which one may intellectually approach it. Accordingly, it is not surprising to find various superficial understandings or misunderstandings of Zen among Westerners interested in Zen, whose cultural and religious traditions are entirely different from those in which Zen developed. (p. 3)

Central to the Zen salvational impulse is the development of compassion and wisdom. Abe (1985) draws out distinct and fundamental differences between Zen and Christianity to further develop an appreciation of Zen as a nontheological religion. He writes that “the difference between Christianity and Zen could be formulated in contrasts of God—Nothingness, Faith—Enlightenment, Salvation—Self-Awakening” (p. 187).

Abe (1985) describes the impulse and intention toward salvation as “the genuine meaning of Buddhist life” (p. xxii). Wisdom and compassion are embodied in Zen iconography, rituals, and prayers such as in the Bodhisattva vow to save all sentient beings, which is central to Zen practice:

Sentient beings are numberless; I vow to save them.
Desires are inexhaustible; I vow to put an end to them.
The Dharmas are boundless; I vow to master them.
The Buddha Way is unattainable; I vow to attain it.

(Loori, 1998, p. 46)

This salvational intention is also asserted in the Zen impulse toward satori (enlightenment, literally: “to understand” or “self-realization”) and engendered through personal experience. It is for this latter impulse that Zen emphasizes the wisdom aspect of meditation without which Zen teachers warn that practice becomes an empty and useless endeavor equated, for example, in the traditional notion of “polishing a brick to make a mirror” or “eating painted rice cakes to satisfy hunger.”

Regarding Zen’s salvational intention, D. T. Suzuki (1949) notes:

As I have repeatedly illustrated, Buddhism, whether primitive or developed, is a religion of freedom and emancipation, and the ultimate aim of its discipline is to release the spirit from its possible bondage so that it can act freely in accordance with its own principles. (p. 74)

Freedom, Not License

The freedom promised by Zen derives through a series of highly structured and disciplined religious practices. Kapleau (1966), who criticizes the licentious misuse of Zen in the service of self-gratification rather than as a structure for developing responsible and compassionate living, asserts that “the attempt to isolate Zen in a vacuum of intellect, cut off from the very disciplines which are its raison d’etre, has nourished a pseudo-Zen, which is little more than a mind-tickling diversion of highbrows and a plaything of beatniks” (p. xv). In his introduction to Yasutani Roshi’s explication of Zen, Kapleau writes: “Yasutani Roshi’s emphasis on the religious aspect of Zen, that is, on faith as a prerequisite to enlightenment, may come as a surprise to Western readers accustomed to ‘intellectual images’ of Zen by scholars devoid of Zen insight” (p. 4).

By “Zen insight” Kapleau means the experiential intuitive insight or wisdom that derives through disciplined ongoing practice. The Sanskrit term for this intuited experiential insight or wisdom is prajna (“quick knowing,” or “intuitive knowing”).

In this respect Kapleau points to a dis-ease or discomfort with Zen in the West. We are not able to decide what to call it: religion, philosophy, technique, spiritual path, mysticism, or none of these. The positivistic heritage that formed the foundation for psychoanalysis coupled with the need for things to make sense drive a demand for a definition. Until recently, this demand has not been questioned. We don’t question our need to call it a something or a nothing, whatever the case may be. In keeping with this demand, I view Zen as a religion. There is no problem with this view in the East, where most of the scholarship on Zen comfortably describes Zen as a religion, despite problems with definition. However, despite Zen’s seemingly enigmatic structure, that emphasizes ineffability, iconoclasm, and illogical linguistic styles, constants can be clearly identified such as the prioritization of personal experience as the nexus of faith and of practice. Clearly definable beliefs such as emptiness, dependent arising, and the relationship between absolute and relative existence drive the Zen enterprise. Zen identifies specific goals, such as self-realization and the development of compassion, and articulates specific practices that support the realization of these beliefs and related goals. The primary religious practices include zazen, koan study, and mindfulness in daily activities.

In contrast, Alan Watts’s (1957) antireligious sentiment typifies the Western difficulty with accepting the Zen religious impulse. He writes that Zen is not a religion; rather, it is “a way of life which does not belong to any categories of modern Western thought. It is not a religion or a philosophy; it is not a psychology or a type of science” (p. 3). Watts goes on to assert that Zen is a “way of liberation” (p. 3). Paradoxically, it is this latter salvational intention that Watts identifies “as a way of liberation” that qualifies Zen as a religion.

It is this type of comment that has influenced and distorted the Western perception of Zen. For instance, Canadian psychoanalyst Raphael Lopez-Corvo (2005), who criticizes Symington and Symington’s (1996) rendering of Bion’s O as “essentially a religious and metaphysical concept” (p. 316), relies on Watts’s secular reading of Zen for support. Watts was quite knowledgeable about Zen; however, he was clearly not a Zen practitioner, which is problematic given his tremendous popularity and influence.

Historical Overview

Historical accounts attribute the Indian monk Bodhidharma with the introduction of Zen into China during the 6th century. Bodhidharma taught what the Zen l...

Table of contents

• Contents
• Acknowledgments
• Introduction:
• 1 Riding the Elusive Ox of Zen:
• 2 First Encounters of a Distant Kind
• 3 The Zen Koan:
• 4 “Does a Dog Have a Buddha Nature or Not?” Nihilism, Absolutism, and “Joshu’s Mu”
• 5 Sand in Rice:
• 6 Unconscious and Conscious in Zen and Psychoanalysis
• 7 The Crazy Cloud of Attention and Inattention:
• 8 Sense and Non-Sense
• 9 The Gap Between:
• 10 Unitive Experience and the Pervasive Object
• References
• Index