The Decorous Activity of Bodhisattvas

—by Robert Reese

“Even though I had heard that Buddhist ritual is Buddhism, in my heart I privately felt that true Buddhism must reside apart from this. Recently, however, I have changed my views. I now know that monastic ritual and deportment themselves are that true Buddhism. Even if apart from these there is also the infinite Buddhism of the Buddhas and patriarchs, still it is the very same Buddhism. I have attained true confidence in this profound principle that apart from the lifting of an arm or the moving of a leg within one’s Buddhist deportment there can be no other reality.

— Tettsu Gikai Daiosho (1219-1309)

For reasons not entirely clear, I’ve been thinking about “decorum” these past months. Perhaps due to the lack of my own decorum in certain situations, or through the general assault on propriety we’ve witness over the past five years. Regardless the reason, the issue has come to foreground. Last week we all witnessed the elderly Asian woman being sucker-punched on Market Street in San Francisco. Today, terms such as “decorum” and “character” seem to be words from another century, aspirations our grandparents knew about but have become curiously absent in our social and political discourse. In this season, “decorum” appears to include qualities to be sanctioned in concept, but have become unmoored against other, more immediately navigable considerations. 

 Monastic decorum is sometimes expressed by the Japanese term, “saho;” “sa” meaning “assistant,” “help,” “keep,” “preserve,” or “support.”  “Hō” is Dharma, or the teaching, the way, truth, or the practice pointed out by Buddha.  Another word that expresses this etiquette is “horei.” Rev. Koun Franz writes that “hō is Dharma; the rei in this case refers to a kind of etiquette--but the rei also means “gratitude.” “Hōrei applies to human interaction, of course — how we serve a guest, how we approach a teacher, how we receive a gift, and so on. But on a more basic level, it speaks to how we engage with the world, how we stand as both host and guest in each moment.”

 The Soto Way, or “family style” of Soto Zen, is called “menmitsu no--kafu,” or “careful and considerate way.” Men means “close, intimate, or densely woven,” mitsu means “cotton fabric,” Ka means “family,” and Fu means “wind” or “manner.” Together, they express the Soto family style of unstinting, continuous attention to detail—an attention both soft and subtle—that characterizes all of Zen practice.  This family style, or “house wind,” is somewhat like a trellis or framing, which keeps a plant growing properly, upright and developing to an appropriate shape. In the same way, a trellis supports wisteria to not grow wild and out of control. Hōrei, then,  ”can be expressed very simply use both hands.  Whatever you are doing, whenever possible, use two hands.  If you are opening a door, open it with two hands.  If you are shaking someone’s hand, use both hands, Like so many aspects of Zen practice, this may seem silly or useless or like a waste of time, but if you really apply this, it will change the way you approach your life,” says Rev. Koun.

In this sense, “using both hands” is physical enactment of the Soto tradition; a way the tradition is transmitted in the body and mind. But these small disciplines are valuable only insofar as they represent larger ones. Practiced day after day, Dharma decorum functions internally for practitioners, scripting character through mental and physical movement. “Using both hands” communicates the beliefs and culture of Zen, but also shapes us into certain kind of citizens.  Dharma decorum calls forth deeper, stronger disciplines, values instilled for eight hundred years.  Decorum creates a kind of ritual, helping us to remember who and what we are. To remember our original name. In order to remember it, one must have known it. To know it, one must practice it; and to practice it, is to know it.

 At the same time, of course, you can say I do not have the right to impose the arbitrary conscience of Buddhist morality upon you—even if it’s as primary as decorum. Lionel Trilling once wrote: “We must be aware of the dangers which lie in our most generous wishes. Some paradox of our nature leads us, when once we have made our fellow men the objects of our enlightened interest, to go on to make them the objects of our pity, then of our wisdom, ultimately of our coercion.”

At the same time is it all right only so long as we do not dupe ourselves about what we are practicing and why? Decorous action remains accurate only so long as we remember that all the conversations, the protests and marches, all the valiant signatures signed in front of post offices, do not provide anyone with ethical virtue. Still, we can act with decorum while waiting to become decorous citizens.

 “If we can presence ourselves in a wholesome way, with patience, kindness and equanimity, even when we don’t feel patience, kindness and equanimity, then we will find compassion for ourselves and for others,” writes Rev. Shinshu Roberts in “Being Time.”

Decorous activity is valuable only so long as we recognize that the end may or may not be beneficial, may or may not be an upright response, but in any event sometimes has little to do with “morality.” Because when we start deceiving ourselves into thinking that it is a moral imperative that we have it, then is when we are in unfortunate situation.  And I suspect we are already there.

Robert Reese