XPost: alt.religion.buddhism.tibetan, alt.zen   
   From: peter@dharma.dyndns.info   
      
   	   
   Not-Knowing   
      
   adapted from a talk by Gil Fronsdal, February 10th, 2004   
      
   Buddhist practice involves an interplay between knowing and not-knowing.   
   In Vipassana we often emphasize knowing and seeing deeply into our lived   
   experience. However, just as our capacity to know can be developed, so   
   can we cultivate a wise practice of not-knowing.   
      
   “Not-knowing” is emphasized in Zen practice, where it is sometimes   
   called “beginner’s mind.” An expert may know a subject deeply, yet be   
   blinded to new possibilities by his or her preconceived ideas. In   
   contrast, a beginner may see with fresh, unbiased eyes. The practice of   
   beginner’s mind is to cultivate an ability to meet life without   
   preconceived ideas, interpretations, or judgments.   
      
   I can recall many situations in my life where preconceived ideas   
   obscured my seeing clearly. Once, working as a restaurant cook, I was   
   leaving my shift just as a co-worker started his. When I began joking   
   with him as usual, he quickly interrupted me to say that one of his best   
   friends had just died. If I had practiced beginner’s mind, I would have   
   taken the time to discover who he was at that moment. Instead, I felt   
   regret for being insensitive.   
      
   I once attended a weekend “Death and Dying” workshop with Stephen   
   Levine. When the workshop started I was stunned by the amount of   
   suffering in the room. Some were dying. Others had recently lost a   
   child, a partner, or a parent. Some had witnessed tragic deaths. One had   
   nearly died herself. The weekend taught me to not to assume I know   
   people from my first impressions. Now I try to remember that they have   
   depths that I might not know about.   
      
   This experience points out another kind of not-knowing as well. How   
   would you live your life if you had a clear sense of the uncertainty of   
   the time and place of death-your own and others’? Most people don’t know   
   when death will come. We often live as if we were certain about things   
   that are inherently uncertain. How would we live if we acknowledged our   
   uncertainty?   
      
   What is it like to be aware that we don’t know the answers to some of   
   the life’s big questions? People often ask Buddhist teachers about what   
   happens when we die, or the meaning of life. I have been inspired by   
   those who answer that they don’t know, and seem very comfortable with   
   not-knowing. Perhaps these questions are irrelevant to their spiritual life.   
      
   Often people are anxious to find the ultimate meaning of life or   
   understand what happens in death because they are afraid of the unknown.   
   They may look to religion for answers. Buddhism, at its heart, is not   
   about answering these questions but about resolving the fear that   
   motivates the questions. Rather than providing security through   
   religious knowing, Buddhist practice calls on us to become free from   
   attachment to security, free from the need to know.   
      
   A simple but profound way to practice not-knowing is to add “I don’t   
   know” to every thought. This is most effective in meditation when the   
   mind has quieted down. So, for example, if the judgment arises, “This is   
   a good meditation session” or “this is a bad meditation session,”   
   respond with “I don’t know.” Follow the thought “I can’t manage this,”   
   “I need…,” or “I am…” with “I don’t know.” Like the bumper sticker that   
   says “Question authority,” the phrase “I don’t know” questions the   
   authority of everything we think.   
      
   Repeating the words “I don’t know” allows us to question tightly-held   
   ideas. Done thoroughly, “I don’t know” can pull the rug out from under   
   our most cherished beliefs. All too often we don’t question our beliefs.   
   And, since virtually every train of thought has some implicit belief,   
   when we question our thoughts, we question these beliefs.   
      
   “Don’t know” can also be directed at motivations that lead us to act.   
   Before adjusting your posture in meditation or quitting walking   
   meditation early, notice what belief is operating in the motivation.   
   Then direct “don’t know” to that belief and see what happens.   
      
   When I was kitchen manager in a monastery, I saw how much I was driven   
   by the need to be liked. The way I talked and behaved with the crew was   
   often influenced by this desire. To ensure that what I did or said did   
   not trigger their reactivity and dislike, I felt I had to tiptoe around   
   their (and my) egos. But during that year I began to question my need to   
   be liked. Upon what authority was I basing this need? Did I really know   
   if it was important to have people like me? Don’t know.   
      
   Don’t know. Don’t know. Repeated regularly, it almost becomes a mantra   
   in response to what we think or believe. This phrase can open up a space   
   in the mind, helping it to relax and rest. The little phrase, “I don’t   
   know,” is very, very powerful.   
      
   One Zen story proclaims, “Not knowing is most intimate.” I understand   
   this to mean that what is most essential is not understood through the   
   filter of our judgments, past knowledge, or memories. When not-knowing   
   helps these to drop away, the result can be a greater immediacy-what   
   some might call being intimate.   
      
   The practice of not-knowing needs to be distinguished from confusion and   
   debilitating doubt. Confusion is not a virtue: the confused person is   
   somewhat lost and removed from life. With doubt, the mind is agitated or   
   contracted with hesitation and indecision. These mind states tend to   
   obscure rather than clarify. Furthermore, confusion and doubt are   
   generally involuntary. Not-knowing, as a practice, is a choice meant to   
   bring greater peace.   
      
   But lest we take the not-knowing practice too far, Suzuki Roshi said,   
   “Not-knowing does not mean you don’t know.” It doesn’t require us to   
   forget everything we have known or to suspend all interpretations of a   
   situation. Not-knowing means not being limited by what we know, holding   
   what we know lightly so that we are ready for it to be different. Maybe   
   things are this way. But maybe they are not.   
      
   As a Buddhist practice, not-knowing leads to more than an intimacy and   
   open mind. It can be used as a sword to cut through all the ways that   
   the mind clings. If we can wield this sword until the mind lets go of   
   itself and finally knows ultimate freedom, then-not knowing has served   
   its ultimate purpose.   
      
   http://www.insightmeditationcenter.org/books-articles/articles/not-knowing/   
      
   --- SoupGate-Win32 v1.05   
    * Origin: you cannot sedate... all the things you hate (1:229/2)