Seeing the Opaque and Pronouncing It Transparent

[Image: “Autumn Reflections on Lake Taneycomo,” by Moose Winans. (Stumbled upon it on Flickr, and use it here under a Creative Commons license — thank you!) The photographer explains, sorta: “I was walking along Lake Taneycomo late in the day breathing in crisp cool air, when the sun kissed a nearby hillside. The trees seemingly lit on fire with an abundance of yellows, oranges and reds. The sky was a rather bland, so I opted to focus on the reflections of the colorful trees. I found a little ripple in the water that created a nice leading line and added a deep shade of blue to the surface of the lake.” I’m not sure I understand this, exactly, but the effect is undeniably… zen.]

A new(ish) pop-philosophy meme has made its way into American discourse — maybe worldwide, I don’t know. It boils down to a single word, by nature a noun but repurposed as an adjective: “I’m feeling very zen these days,” says the celebrity on a talk show; “So zen, y’know?” says the flirtatious drunk at the bar.

I don’t know who first popularized this construction, and — honestly — I don’t know enough about Zen Buddhism itself to rigorously, intellectually rebut the casual association of lowercase “zen” with a phrase like “chillin’ out.” It doesn’t feel right to me, but as another common saying goes, “Whadda I know?!?”

On the other hand, I’m confident that “still and impassive” does not equate to “cold and unfeeling.” The former describes a demeanor, a shell; the latter, a state of inner emotion. The old metaphor about wearing one’s heart on one’s sleeve used to describe individuals who departed from the societal norm in that way — nowadays, it seems, not to wave one’s heart about, openly, is regarded practically as antisocial behavior.

This week, whiskey river reminds us of the difference, from someone who certainly knew whereof he spoke when the subject turned to Zen:

The unspoiled colors of a late summer night,
The wind howling through lofty pines —
The feel of autumn approaching;
Swaying bamboos keep resonating,
Shedding tears of dew at dawn;
Only those who exert themselves fully
Will attain the Way.
But even if you abandon all for the ancient path of meditation,
You can never forget the meaning of sadness.

(Dogen [source])

Nor is it (again from whiskey river) only sadness and other “negative” feelings which the Zen exterior may mask when one declines to separate Self from Other:

Moon

Open the book of evening to the page
where the moon, always the moon, appears

between two clouds, moving so slowly that hours
will seem to have passed before you reach the next page

where the moon, now brighter, lowers a path
to lead you away from what you have known

into those places where what you had wished for happens,
its lone syllable like a sentence poised

at the edge of sense, waiting for you to say its name
once more as you lift your eyes from the page

and close the book, still feeling what it was like
to dwell in that light, that sudden paradise of sound.

(Mark Strand [source])

I’m put in mind of a film of a towering but slender waterfall — a film taken from some distance away. And unthinking observer might say, “What a peaceful scene! The water flows so gracefully!” Had the photographer situated the camera at the foot of the falls, though, looking straight up, the noisy, chaotic reality would have pretty much silenced all commentary.