With each change of seasons, I choose mantra or intention for myself and my yoga* practice, based on what I have been reading and contemplating and wish to carry with me to explore deeper as the season progresses.  (*Yoga as in movement, breath, mindfulness, creativity, & community.) 

For my fall intention, I'm inspired again by Bassui Tokushō. 

Who is Hearing?

Bassui (1327-1387) was a Zen Buddhist monk whose teachings are collected in the book Mud & Water. In this book, there's a chapter titled "Question Your Mind," where Bassui offers a practice around perceiving sound to drill into bigger questions of consciousness and self:

"When standing or sitting, see what it is that hears voices—while doing this you will lose sight of the hearer. While continuing to pursue this, you will reach an impasse and lose your direction.

“At that time, while sounds can still be heard, look more deeply into what it is that hears. In this state continue to exert yourself to your limit and you will be like a clear, cloudless sky. At this time there will be nothing you can call the self. You will see the one who hears. Your mind will be one with the vast empty sky. But, in fact, there will be nothing you can call the empty sky. You will think this is realization, but here too you should seriously question! Who is it now that hears sounds?

“When you cease creating thoughts, skillfully proceeding so that even the understanding of an objectless empty sky vanishes, you shouldn’t retreat in the face of this darkness, but rather ask yourself again what it is that hears sound. When you have exhausted all your energy, amply doubting, you will break through your doubts like a dying person being revived at the last moment. This is realization."

—Bassui Tokushō, Mud & Water, (emphasis is mine)

Okay, you might read that and be put off—and yeah this is admittedly a little heady, even by my standards—but Bassui was heralded for being the type of teacher who could make complex philosophical practices seem relatable and accessible. So if we sit with this for a second, take it apart, try it out…I think the wisdom starts to become more apparent. (I’ve reimagined his teaching into a practice with reflection questions—check the end of this post.)

When I need further clarity on a tough topic, I look to other great teachers and texts. The idea behind Bassui’s practice is echoed by Thich Nhat Hanh in his book, The Other Shore (and I highly recommend the entire chapter “Stars are Consciousness”):

"It is a number of phenomena coming together that make sight, hearing, knowing, and touching possible.

…Looking at the moon and stars we are seeing our own mind. Looking at the perceived we see the perceiver.

...When we see this, we begin to see the unity of all phenomena...."

—Thich Nhat Hanh, The Other Shore: A New Translation of the Heart Sutra with Commentaries, (emphasis is mine)

Senses & Sense-Objects

Bassui points out that it is not only the sages and enlightened folks who can tap into this skill of applying and questioning our mind. We all have it by way of our senses.

"Your mind applies itself universally, everywhere. It sees colors with the eyes, hears voices with the ears, smells odors with the nose, forms words with the mouth, grips with the hands, runs with the feet. All buddhas and ordinary people have this blessed power.”

—Bassui Tokushō, Mud & Water

The Bhagavad Gita explains this too: 

"The one who has seen the truth
thinks, 'I am not the doer'
at all times—when they see, hear, touch,
when they smell, eat, walk, sleep, breathe,

...at all times they think, 'This is merely
sense-objects acting on the senses.'"

—Bhagavad Gita 5.8-9, as translated by Stephen Mitchell (modified by me to remove gendered language and emphasize certain phrases)

This topic of “sense-objects and senses” has been showing up a lot in my offerings lately. I’ve been inspired to use this practice as a means of developing greater presence. I used to imagine presence as a calm, introspective feeling–something like turning off the senses to avoid distraction. And I was very bad at that! Now, I often imagine presence as mindful and spacious exuberance—allowing sensory information to work with my brilliant nervous system so I can become more aware, appreciative, and connected to my surroundings.

Noticing a sound and immediately labeling it as a distraction can put one in a sour mood. Noticing a sound and inviting curiosity—allowing “self” to connect with that sound, to contemplate the relationship between “self” and our surrounding sense-objects—calls for deep listening, self-study, and presence. And I have found it to be a very effective practice in cultivating gratitude.

A Practice to Question the Mind

The next time you hear something that catches your attention (a song you love, a joyful sound, mundane background noise, a lying politician, etc.), try out this line of questions and see where it takes you. It might go a little something like this:

• How am I conscious of this sound?

• Is it “me” who hears this sound, or something else that I identify as "me"?

• What does it mean to "be me"?

• What are all the things that come together to "be me"? Physically, neurologically, spiritually, ancestrally, etc.

• Am I this hearing, sensing body? Or some greater consciousness?

• Does my consciousness exist only within the physical boundaries of my body? Or how far does it expand?

And if this practice takes you into realms which are distracting or otherwise unwelcome, you can try these reflections another time and, instead, focus on the power of your senses (hearing, sight, touch, whichever you connect most with) to recenter yourself.

Further Reading (not already cited above)

https://dharmanet.org/coursesM/27/zenstory29.htm

https://www.awakeningtoreality.com/2022/01/zen-master-bassuis-one-mind-sermon.html?m=1

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