Ah, embarking on a journey through Alan W. Watts' "The Way of Zen" based on these fascinating excerpts! It's a real pleasure to explore this topic, as Watts aimed to make Zen philosophy both understandable and utterly captivating for a Western audience, explaining complex ideas in a way that feels personal and relevant. His goal was to provide a comprehensive look at Zen, including its historical roots and its relationship to Chinese Taoism and Indian Buddhism, something he felt was lacking in the existing literature, even in the works of esteemed scholars like Professor D. T. Suzuki. Watts notes that the Western world, used to seeking security in absolute principles and fixed laws, finds itself increasingly in a universe that mirrors the Buddhist idea of the "Great Void" – a realm of relativity without firm ground. This can feel quite daunting, like navigating a trackless ocean. But here's where Zen comes in, having comfortably inhabited this "Void" for centuries, finding not terror, but sheer delight in it. This, Watts suggests, is precisely why the West is so drawn to Zen's culturally rich way of life. However, understanding Zen can be tricky for Westerners. Watts points out that many existing books, while valuable for advanced students or offering perceptive observations, often lack the essential historical and cultural context, particularly Zen's deep connections to Taoism and Indian Buddhism. Popularizations might simplify things but sometimes miss crucial relationships or introduce questionable connections, like Buddhism and Theosophy. This lack of a foundational, orderly account has left Western impressions somewhat confused, despite widespread enthusiasm. Watts took on the task of writing this book precisely because he felt someone needed to bridge this gap, acknowledging that ideally, it might be written by a Zen master with fluent English, but also recognizing the potential limitations of an insider's perspective. He saw value in a Westerner, perhaps one who had undergone training, but also noted the academic skepticism towards "enthusiasts". Watts himself adopts a unique position – what he calls a "friendly neutral position". He cannot claim to be a "Zenist" or a Buddhist in the formal sense, feeling it's like trying to label the sky. Nor can he claim to be a purely objective academic, which he likens to studying bird-song from stuffed nightingales when it comes to Zen. He has studied the literature and observed the art for over twenty years and enjoyed informal association with practitioners. His aim is to provide a "third point of reference," a perspective that is neither wholly Zen nor wholly Western, hoping that any misrepresentations might at least provoke clearer expression from those on either side. The book is structured in two parts: the background and history, and the principles and practice. Watts drew on existing European language studies of Zen, including Suzuki's work but seeking to offer more than just a summary. Crucially, he based his essential view on a careful study of important early Chinese Zen records like the Hsin-hsin Ming and the Sutra of the Sixth Patriarch. While acknowledging his limitations in T'ang dynasty Chinese, he aimed for a clear grasp of the essential doctrine, aided by colleagues. Personal encounters over twenty years also formed a significant source of his understanding. He made his own translations unless otherwise noted and included appendices for Chinese characters and references, navigating the complexities of romanization for both Chinese and Japanese terms. **Part One: Background and History** Watts introduces Zen Buddhism not as a typical Western category like religion, philosophy, psychology, or science, but as a "way of liberation" akin to Taoism, Vedanta, and Yoga. He explains that these ways of liberation can't be positively defined; they are revealed, like a sculpture, by removing what they are not. A big reason Zen can seem puzzling to the Western mind is our unfamiliarity with Chinese ways of thinking, which offer a valuable different perspective. It's not just about learning new ideas, but appreciating differences in the very premises and methods of thought, which are often overlooked, leading us to project Western ideas onto Chinese concepts. Watts believes English is capable of expressing these ideas, contrary to some opinions, but the difficulty lies more in the ingrained academic and scientific thought-patterns that tend to struggle with subjects like Taoism and Zen, contributing to the notion that the "Oriental mind" is mysterious. However, he also highlights that Zen's essential insights are universal, as shown by R. H. Blyth's work on Zen in English Literature. The initial puzzle stems from our limited view of knowledge, which we primarily see as _conventional knowledge_ – knowledge that can be represented in words or symbols like mathematics or music. This is based on social agreements about communication codes. Taoism, as the original Chinese way of liberation, combined with Indian Mahayana Buddhism to create Zen. Taoism is about liberation from convention and realizing the creative power of 'te'. Attempts to describe it verbally inevitably distort it. The Tao itself is beyond material existence and cannot be fully conveyed by words or silence. Taoist philosophy emphasizes things like "non-graspingness" of mind, described by Chuang-tzu as using the mind like a mirror that receives but does not keep. This state is similar to what Zen later called _wu-hsin_ or "no-mind," meaning un-self-consciousness. It's a state of wholeness where the mind functions freely, without a second, controlling ego. It's like learning to let your legs walk by themselves instead of lifting them with your hands. This Taoist critique of convention also applied to arts and crafts, where skilled artisans like Ch'ui could work effortlessly, their mental faculties unified and undisturbed by deliberate attention. When Buddhism arrived in China, the civilization was already ancient and established, influenced by Confucianism and Taoism. The Chinese mentality, shaped by the reasonable, humanistic social patterns of Confucianism and the "let well enough alone" attitude of Taoism, adapted Buddhism, making it more practical and compatible with everyday life, families, and normal instincts. From the Zen perspective, the Buddha's true message was unspoken, conveyed through "direct pointing" rather than words. While traditional accounts mention the Buddha teaching the Four Noble Truths and the Eightfold Path (sections including "complete view" or clear awareness and _samyak-samadhi_ or pure experience), Zen emphasizes that words can't fully capture the experience. Mahayana Buddhism introduced concepts important for Zen, such as _upaya_ (skillful means). The idea that rigorous effort might be an _upaya_ to show the futility of trying to escape desire by desiring not to desire became central. Mahayana also explored the paradox that even delusion is _bodhi_ (awakening), and the awakened _Bodhisattva_ can live an ordinary life because _samsara_ (the cycle of suffering) is ultimately _nirvana_. The _Sunyavada_ (Madhyamika) philosophy used logical negation to refute philosophical positions, not to deny reality itself, but our _ideas_ of reality, revealing a new vision beyond description. The _Yogacara_ school saw forms as forms of mind, pushing the term "mind" itself to become logically meaningless in relation to non-logical experience. Watts highlights that the qualities making Zen distinct – its directness and the sense that awakening is immediate and natural – are elusive in words. While other schools meditate, Zen's flavor is its directness, treating awakening as startlingly obvious, potentially occurring at any moment. Its teaching method, "direct pointing" (_chih-chih_), uses non-symbolic actions or words that might seem ordinary or even crazy, like commenting on the weather in response to a question about Buddhism. While specific instances of this are more noted later, it aligns with the early masters' focus on immediate awakening in everyday life. This tradition of a direct, immediate path existed outside China in some forms of Indian and Tibetan Buddhism, perhaps as a "secret doctrine" due to its potential for misinterpretation. However, Zen's style is so Chinese that an Indian origin seems improbable to some. Watts suggests that the synthesis of Taoist and Confucian ideas with Mahayana Buddhism is sufficient explanation. Early Chinese figures like Seng-chao, a student of the great translator Kumarajiva, bridged these worlds. Seng-chao was deeply influenced by the Vimalakirti Sutra, which stressed that perfect awakening was compatible with everyday life and that the highest attainment was "to enter into awakening without exterminating the defilements". Seng-chao's writings show the link, using Taoist style and terms for Buddhist subjects, presenting ideas like "to know is not to know" and the awakened mind responding without calculation. The semi-legendary story of Bodhidharma arriving in China and his interaction with Hui-k'o is often cited as the beginning of the Zen lineage in China. Hui-k'o's awakening occurred when Bodhidharma, in response to Hui-k'o seeking peace of mind, snapped, "There! I have pacified your mind!". This exchange is seen as the first example of the characteristic Zen method of _wen-ta_ (question-and-answer), or _mondo_, anecdotes designed to precipitate sudden realization or test insight, which cannot be "explained" without losing their effect. This era also saw the formulation of key principles like "Outside teaching; apart from tradition. Not founded on words and letters. Pointing directly to the human mind. Seeing into one's nature and attaining Buddhahood". The poem Hsin-hsin Ming, attributed to the third patriarch Seng-ts'an, is considered the first clear and comprehensive statement of Zen, deeply flavored by Taoism. Lines like "The perfect Tao is without difficulty, Save that it avoids picking and choosing" and "Follow your nature and accord with the Tao; Saunter along and stop worrying" reflect the attitude of letting the mind alone and trusting its nature, contrasting with the Indian emphasis on rigid control. The fourth patriarch, Tao-hsin, further illustrated this when asked about liberation, responding, "Who binds you?" and upon the answer "No one," asking, "Why then should you seek liberation?". The Tang dynasty, especially from 700 to 906, was a period of great Zen activity. Hui-neng, the Sixth Patriarch, is a pivotal figure. His poem contrasting with Shen-hsiu's highlights the difference between gradualist views of purifying the mind through sitting meditation and Hui-neng's sudden awakening. Shen-hsiu's view saw the mind like a mirror to be wiped. Hui-neng's radical position was that attempting to purify the mind was unnecessary and confusing because "our own nature is fundamentally clear and pure". The true mind is _wu-hsin_, not an object to be controlled; trying to purify it is a vicious circle. This reflects the Taoist philosophy of naturalness – genuine freedom doesn't come from artificial discipline but from being oneself. Hui-neng used the analogy of the "Great Void" being like space, containing everything, rather than just being empty; thoughts come and go in the original mind like birds through the sky. Awakening is "sudden" because the Buddha nature is whole and cannot be realized bit by bit. Hui-neng also suggested a method of responding to questions with opposites to understand the Middle Way. The successors of Hui-neng, like Ma-tsu, Po-chang, Huang-po, and Lin-chi, continued this emphasis on naturalness and "no-mind" (wu-hsin). The true practice of Zen is "no practice," being a Buddha without intending to. Hsüan-chüeh's poem speaks of the "easygoing Man of Tao" who does not strive (wu-wei) and sees ignorance as Buddha nature. The famous story of Huai-jang polishing a tile to make a mirror to question Ma-tsu about the purpose of sitting meditation perfectly encapsulates this attitude against striving for a goal. Ma-tsu was known for "strange words and extraordinary behavior," like hitting or shouting in response to questions. His teaching stressed that the Tao has nothing to do with discipline, as seeking it with discipline implies it can be lost. Shih-t'ou in the Soto line emphasized that his teaching was not dependent on meditation or diligent application, recognizing the identity of mind, Buddha, sentient beings, etc.. Chao-chou was known for his seemingly nonsensical but deeply pointed answers, like "No!" to whether a dog has Buddha nature, or "Go wash your bowl!" when asked for instruction after eating gruel. Po-chang is credited with organizing Zen communities with the rule "a day of no working is a day of no eating," fostering manual labor. He defined Zen as "When hungry, eat; when tired, sleep" and advised, "Don't cling; don't seek," likening seeking Buddha nature to "riding an ox in search of the ox". Huang-po's writings clearly articulated that seeking Buddha nature with the mind leads to losing it. The flavor of this T'ang Zen, in figures like Ma-tsu and Lin-chi, is described as earthy, matter-of-fact, and direct, using colloquial language rather than refined classical Chinese. It's a naturalness that feels almost rough but, at its best, is a miraculous spontaneity without intention, like a Zen garden. This spirit is difficult to institutionalize. Zen became dominant in China in the late Tang, often closely related to other schools like Hua-yen, which provided a formal philosophy. Tsung-mi was both a Zen master and Hua-yen patriarch. Zen masters studied Hua-yen deeply. With the growth of Zen communities, the problem of discipline arose, needing to instill ordinary manners in raw youths. Modern monastic Zen, especially in Japan, is characterized by discipline enforced with sticks, acting as a "boys' training school" while also providing a way of liberation. This training produces a balanced "Zen type". The koan system, particularly associated with the Rinzai school, developed later as a way to test students' insight beyond intellectual understanding. Koans are test questions with unexpected answers, like Huang-lung's Three Barriers, designed to point to aspects of Zen experience. The point is often subtle, made more apparent by being concealed. Zen has deeply influenced Japanese culture, not just martial arts (_bushido_) but architecture, poetry, painting, gardening, and everyday life, thanks to accessible figures like Dogen, Hakuin, and Bankei. In later China, Zen fused with and was eventually absorbed by the Pure Land school. Modern Chinese Zen might show influences of Taoist alchemy. Watts notes that T'ang masters' teachings don't strongly emphasize the type of _za-zen_ (sitting meditation) central to modern Zen monasteries. He suggests this later emphasis might relate to the monastery functioning as a training school. However, he acknowledges that sitting might benefit Western minds, provided it's not seen as a method to become a Buddha. Some Zen practice, like that of Bankei or in arts like tea ceremony or brush drawing, involves using ordinary work as meditation, not strictly requiring formal sitting. **Part Two: Principles and Practice** A fundamental Zen saying is "original realization is marvelous practice" (_honsho myoshu_). This means awakening (_satori_) and practice are not separate; practice isn't a means to an end, but the aimless, self-sufficient life of the eternal now. One practices _because_ one is already a Buddha, and this realization is the starting point. Watts dedicates this part to the activity that flows from this realization: meditation (_za-zen_) and everyday life. In modern Zen communities, sitting meditation (_za-zen_) is highly valued, even if it seems strange to simply sit still. Its relevance lies in its ability to facilitate seeing reality directly, in its _suchness_, by quieting the symbolic, thinking mind. It's not about emptying the mind or restricting attention but about quiet awareness without comment, leading to a sense of non-difference between self and the world. Zen often expresses itself through a ritualistic or ceremonious style in everyday activities. This isn't affectation but a celebration of the human body as the Buddha nature in action. Doing simple things with total presence of mind, fully aware of details, gives actions a ritualistic quality. This attitude is particularly stressed in the Soto school, where _za-zen_ and daily life are seen not as means but as the actual realization of Buddhahood. Koan training, primarily in the Rinzai school, is a structured method using puzzling questions or stories to test a student's insight. The training involves stages and types of koans, culminating in studying Buddhist precepts. This process can take about thirty years for someone aiming to become a master (_roshi_). Passing a koan or even attaining _satori_ doesn't necessarily mean a radical character transformation. _Satori_ refers to sudden intuitive seeing, which can happen in various degrees ("great satori and little satori"), not just a single leap to complete awakening. Masters are human, with flaws and ordinary lives; their perfection is being perfectly and simply human, unlike those who are at odds with their humanity. The master-pupil relationship in Zen is unique; the initiative lies with the student. The master doesn't "help" by giving answers but creates obstacles (_koan_ are called "entanglements," "cunning barriers") to encourage the student to find the truth themselves. True knowledge isn't what someone tells you. _Satori_ comes after exhausting intellectual thinking, realizing the mind cannot grasp itself. _Za-zen_, in this context, provides a clear mind in which to work with the koan, watching the mind's response. Lin-chi's Fourfold Proposition illustrates different ways a master might respond, sometimes taking away the subject, sometimes the object, sometimes both, sometimes neither. The goal of koan training is naturalness and freedom, which upholds the conventional world. Watts touches on criticisms of the koan method, suggesting it can be seen as culturally conditioned or lead to superficial "uplifts" akin to religious revivalism if mistaken for just a sense of relief or ecstasy. _Satori_ itself is the letting go of the psychological cramp of trying to grasp the mind, not merely the feeling of relief. It's "nothing special" (_wu-shih_), beyond any specific object of knowledge. The advantage of the koan method might be its directness in exhausting the egoistic will. The "Empty and Marvelous" aspect points to the perfect Way being without difficulty, except for the avoidance of picking and choosing. Dualistic thought creates conflict. Zen's perspective isn't fatalism, but a realization that dualities like heat and sweating are mutual; "the sweating is the heat". Our problem is identifying with the symbolic idea of ourselves, the "self" that feels separate. Zen's "direct pointing" bypasses this, directing attention to the concrete reality, the _suchness_ of the non-verbal world. When asked about the meaning of Buddhism or Buddha nature, masters give concrete, non-conceptual answers like "The cypress tree in the yard" or "Three pounds of flax!". These answers cut through theorizing. _Suchness_ is neither one nor many; terms like "sameness" and "difference" are abstractions. _Wu-hsin_ (no-mind) or _wu-nien_ (no-thought) means acting or thinking instantaneously, without a second thought, letting the mind respond without stopping anywhere. It's acting on any level without trying to observe or check from outside, avoiding the contradiction of thinking about thinking. This isn't anti-intellectual but liberation from the dualism of thought and action, acting and thinking with total commitment. Within its social context, Zen is seen as a medicine for the excessive self-consciousness bred by societies emphasizing strict convention, like Confucianism or Samurai culture. It doesn't seek to overthrow conventions but takes them for granted, supporting human, relative ethics like Confucianism rather than divine absolutes. Zen lies beyond the ethical standpoint, its experience being the object of improved human relations. Zen emphasizes _mo chih ch'u_, "going straight ahead without stopping". This is seen in arts like fencing and in the realization that the "original" or "unborn" mind effortlessly performs miracles, like taking in all the leaves on a tree at once. Trusting this spontaneous functioning is key. _Mo chih ch'u_ isn't about eliminating thought but eliminating "blocking" – hesitation or obstruction. _Wu-nien_ is "no second thought," not blocking at anything, leading to wholehearted commitment. The naturalness of Zen is simply doing everyday things, wearing clothes, eating food, without needing concepts like "Zen" or "Buddha". Being conscious of the original mind or nature is seen as a "great disease". Like a fish unmindful of water, true Zen life doesn't need to drag in spirituality as something separate. It's about not noticing oneself. The aim isn't to replace clinging to self with clinging to Buddhism; both are thorns to be removed. The "sword of wisdom" cuts away abstraction, enabling "direct pointing". **Part Four: Zen in the Arts** Watts argues that seeing Zen expressed in art is one of the most direct ways to understand it. Zen arts like painting and poetry focus on natural, concrete things, depicting even masters humanly. These arts are not merely representational but are seen as works of nature themselves, using the "art of artlessness" or "controlled accident," where chance and control are not in conflict. Human creativity is seen as natural as the growth of plants. In a universe of relativity without a fixed goal, there's no need for hurry. "Ease" and "changes" are the same word in Chinese. Hurry, which is fatal to Zen practice, prevents the senses from being fully open to the world. Purposeless growth, like that of a tree, is the attitude in practice, seeing every stage as both beginning and end. The difference between forcing and growing lies in the quality and feeling of the action, something difficult to convey to those in a hurry. Almost every profession and craft in Japan can be a _do_, a Way, a method of learning the principles of Taoism, Zen, and Confucianism. Zen monasteries in China, especially during the Southern Sung dynasty, became centers of cultural exchange, integrating scholarly, poetic, and artistic pursuits, with naturalness becoming a dominant theme. Japanese monks brought this confluence of Zen and Chinese culture back to Japan. Zen has a partiality for short, direct poems, like those in the Zenrin Kushu. The most expressive Zen poetry "says nothing," not commenting _about_ life but pointing directly, like the thief leaving "The moon at the window". The sense of an expanded present moment is strong, particularly in the tea ceremony (_cha-no-yu_), which influenced many related arts. Haiku poems capture sudden visions of nature that arise spontaneously. The point in these arts, as in Zen itself, is not the final product or achievement, but the purposeless journey, the traveling without a point. Physiological aspects, especially breathing, are important because Zen doesn't separate mind and body. Breathing is where control and spontaneity meet. Watching and letting the breath, without forcing, is akin to Zen practice itself, but striving for it hinders it. This way of breathing, like Zen, is for all circumstances, making everyday activity a form of _za-zen_. Figures like Dr. Kunihiko Hashida saw their ordinary work as their Zen practice. Exploring Zen through Watts' lens reveals a path that is deeply rooted in ancient Chinese and Indian thought but culminates in a direct, natural, and often paradoxical approach to reality and everyday life. It's a way that challenges conventional thinking and invites us to look at the world, and ourselves, with fresh eyes, perhaps seeing mountains as mountains again, but with a profound difference. Now, after delving into the background, principles, and practice, you might wonder: How does the concept of 'emptiness' (sunyata), so central to Mahayana Buddhism, relate to the Taoist 'Void'? And how does Zen's emphasis on the ordinary moment connect with the idea of 'enlightenment' as something extraordinary or remote in other traditions? There's always more to explore in this fascinating "Way"!