Inka Speech — Agata Hae In

On April 23, 2023, Agata Hae In received inka at Wubongsa Temple, Poland.

[Raises the Zen stick over her head, then hits the table with the stick.]

The mind is already an infinite space filled with original silence and light. 

[Raises the Zen stick over her head, then hits the table with the stick.]

There is no mind, space, silence, and light.

[Raises the Zen stick over her head.]

Do you see?

[Hits the table with the Zen stick.]

Do you hear?

[Puts down the Zen stick.]

Do you feel?

KATZ!

Today I feel happy, moved and a bit anxious. I think that even a couple of years ago I wouldn’t admit to feeling anxiety. My spiritual pride wouldn’t allow it, my incorrect view and one of the three main desires pointed out by Buddha Shakyamuni—a deep desire for nonexistence, to push away and negate this sentient being. I understood the Buddhist doctrine of anatman, which means no-self as the denial of self, the denial of all needs and individual expression. In 2008, I went to Sonoma Mountain Zen Center, which is in Jakusho Kwong Roshi’s lineage, represented today by Roshi Uji, who is here with us today—thank you for coming! I spent two years in training there, and then left for Korea to start traditional monastic training there. This means that I put down all my material possessions, my education and intellectual interests, as well as my femininity. But what is the true meaning of “putting down”?

Using samadhi to create a new world of opposites

My offense wasn’t just my incorrect views. The eightfold path consists of more factors than just that. I was also practicing incorrect samadhi—that is, wrong concentration. During twenty years of practice, I learned how to achieve states of high concentration. And I learned how to use them to directly influence my nervous system in the service of pushing away and denying the self of this sentient being. I learned how to calm my heart rate in meditation, to affect my brain waves, to completely reduce any reactivity to sudden sounds, the startle reaction. When my body was falling asleep, my mind light was still shining. All of these things can be measured with various bio- and neurofeedback devices. It can sound alluring, but we already live in the world of opposites, and I was using samadhi to create a new world of opposites: calm formless mind versus chaotic changing body. 

            This is what happened in meditation. But meditation is just the beginning of practice. Therefore, similar to how I learned to ignore sudden, loud sounds, I also learned how not to react to aggressive people: “Don’t check others.” I learned to suppress all my needs and focus only on a certain kind of internal bliss: “Only for others, not for myself!” I pretended not to have my own reflections and opinions: “Go before thinking!” I was criticizing people close to me for excessive sensitivity and in particular, I was pressuring myself to become more and more disciplined, more stable, to not need anything nor anyone: “Keep a non-moving center moment to moment!” 

During meditation, I was directing the mind’s light inward onto the tightness or internal chaos; within a few minutes, I was able to dissolve all the emotions and seek refuge from the world and from myself in the vast, silent, conscious space. But one more step is necessary. Incorrect samadhi in the service of incorrect view leads to incorrect wisdom, and, therefore: to ignorance. 

“Crystal Palace” melts into “Action Samadhi” 

The patriarchs of the Tang and Song dynasties had a name for such a condition: “living in the black demon’s cave” or “living in a crystal palace.” This is exactly what Zen Master Seung Sahn meant when he said “You understand one, you don’t understand two.” I think these are ancient ways to describe a phenomenon that modern psychology calls “spiritual bypassing,” which is spiritual resistance to experiencing feelings. Eventually, the concepts of self and nonself are two sides of the same dualism. 

The twelfth-century Zen master Hongzi, the creator of “silent illumination,” wrote: “Within the space of one hundred fifty hectares there is only cold, pure, shimmering snow.” I focused only on this piece of the teaching. But if you look into his book, translated by our abbot, Robert, you will find the next statement: “Afterward, turn around and go back to the world, wander and play in samadhi.” I believe that this “samadhi play,” which later became an important teaching phrase in Zen, is what Zen Master Seung Sahn used to call “action samadhi.” There is the samadhi of laypeople, the samadhi of nuns and monks, the samadhi of men and women. There is the samadhi of the cultures of Tibet, China, Japan, Korea. There is the samadhi of the five senses, and the samadhi of intellect and emotions. There is space for all of them, and no need to deny them—just don’t get attached to anything.  

We even have kong-ans that talk about it: An old woman supports a monk for ten years. At the end she wants to test him, and she sends her daughter, who sits on his lap, embraces him and asks: “How are you feeling now?” He responds: “Rotten log on cold rocks.” He is the one living in the black demon’s cave. He needs to take one more step. Zen Master Seung Sahn repeats: “The absolute, consciousness, emptiness, energy, space, the land of stillness and bliss—these are all names and forms. The primary point doesn’t have any form, even most subtle.” 

When I was a nun, I was working and practicing for many hours every day completely in a selfless way. But that was an ego trip of my spiritual self. So, I got sick, and my immune system produced three different autoimmune disorders, and I used samadhi to suppress the pain signals and discomfort in my body. Finally, I had difficulties walking, and that was impossible to ignore. I had to return to Poland and rested my monastic precepts. I met love, disappointment, loss, guilt. And I learned from my mistakes.

It seems to me that the utmost Zen teaching of the sudden enlightenment and immediate path is very difficult because we receive the right view and the right method all at once. Pointing directly to the mind: Silence and the sounds of birds. The birds are chirping . . .

How can we work with emotions and with the body?

If this is enough, that is wonderful. But many of us need the intellectual knowledge of Buddhadharma and the gradual instructions on how to practice correctly. So, I returned to the eightfold path and started searching for detailed knowledge about the correct view and correct cultivation of samadhi. I grew my hair, returned to my philosophical interests, and I returned to myself as a woman. I think that intellect and femininity are sometimes undervalued qualities in practice, perceived more as hindrances than expressions of the samadhi play, of action samadhi.

At the end, I want to offer my gratitude. We spent much time with Zen Master Dae Bong discussing how we can work with emotions and with the body in the Kwan Um School of Zen. We received the teaching on how to engage the energy of breath, called gong gi or prana or spirit. Energy of breath connects body and mind. Zen Master Dae Bong said that we can perceive our karma clearly, see how this karma is reflected in our body’s condition when energy is going up, when the energy of “wandering mind” or “holding mind” moves toward our head or chest. Then using the breath, instead of pushing it away, we can harmonize, calm, and settle down this energy, giving it direction toward the center. Perceive, connect with your habits, become one, give it direction to the center using the energy of breath.

My second teacher for the integrity of body and mind is Gosia Bright Pearl, [pointing towards the translator] who has been telling me with great patience for twenty years, when I was describing to her my unusual experiences, that these are maybe just my feelings. [Laughter.] 

My partner, Radek, showed me that the idea of emptiness is also empty, and that I behave like a Hindu goddess stuck in formless heavenly realms. And that I’m grasping the empty nature of mind, making emptiness into a place, a state, or even a thing. 

Kwong Roshi from the very beginning, when I kept asking “What is this mind light?” answered, “It is you!” But I pushed: “This small I? Or this vast big I, which reveals itself when I disappear? This spacious awareness, this mind clear like space, in which one can find a refuge?” And he would say, “There is only one.” Thank you, Roshi!

One day, when I confessed to my inka teacher, Zen Master Joeng Hye, my “successes” in separating this pure, subtle, spacious silence from the chaotic, changing impurities, he replied, “The light knows its way, just put it down!” But to “put it down” does not mean “to push away and deny.” If I understood correctly, by “put it down” he meant to allow the natural mind to appear in a spontaneous way without making anything. 

Twenty-first-century science has already described the mystical, transpersonal, nondual states of mind quite well, but it also knows the experiences of dissociation and depersonalization. So, since there is such an open scientific debate about it, in the Zen world we could also go beyond the taboo of not talking about meditative experiences. Such conversations may show us if we hold an incorrect view and incorrect samadhi, and they can help all sentient beings, not excluding our own selves. 

So, if I confused this one mind of Zen Master Seung Sahn, this unified mind with his concept of clear mind, then what is the clear mind? My intellect answers: don’t know . . .

KATZ!

Phew! [Smiles and laughter from the audience.]