To look more deeply into the Buddhist notion of life, we have to take up the teachings of interdependence and the Middle Way. Buddhist teachings explain self as life, and they explain the vivid world self lives in as interdependence, or the Middle Way. To digest the zazen of the true self-settling on itself as Buddhism, we have to step back and look at these teachings.

The early scriptures known as the Agamas, or the Nikayas, say:

“Truly seeing the aggregation of the world, the view of nonexistence does not arise. Truly seeing the nonsubstantiality of the world the view of existence does not arise. The view that all things exist is one extreme; the view that nothing exists is the other extreme. Being apart from these two extremes, the Tathagata teaches the dharma of the Middle Way: because this exists, that exists; because this arises, that arises.”

The entire teaching of interdependence and the Middle Way is explained in this one quotation. Moreover, what is expressed here is the very essence of the spirit that developed as Mahayana Buddhism. Although the language of this passage is so simple it is not easily understood, we can try to get a sense of it in terms of everyday life.

The scripture says of interdependence “Because this exists, that exists, because this arises, that arises.” But what does this mean? It means that all concrete entities occur in accordance with various conditions, that they always happen based on conditions and never apart from or separate from such factors, and that all abstract entities have meaning because of their mutual relations. Accordingly, what is being said here is that there are no independent substantial entities—that is, no things exist by themselves.

Usually, we think of our “self” as an individual independent substance, an enduring existence. But if we think about it carefully, this is by no means the case. I have an album of photographs taken of me every few years from infancy on. When I look at it these days I am filled with an utterly strange feeling. It so clearly shows the changes I have gone through while gradually advancing in age.

How my face and figure have changed with the years! I can only wonder at this marvelous creation. Within this constant change, what endures? The birthmark under my eye, the peculiar slope of my head — only these meaningless facts remain.

And if it is true that I am only what endures through time, then this birthmark and this oddly shaped head are what I truly am. I cannot help but wonder whether these pictures are all of the same I or not.

Not only the appearance of the body, but the inside as well, is gradually being regenerated and transformed; so what does not appear in photographs is also undergoing change.

Moreover, the content of my thoughts, which I refer to as I, has also been radically changing, from infancy to childhood, adolescence, maturity, and now in old age. Not just that — even this present I is an unceasing stream of consciousness. Yet, taken momentarily at a given time, we grasp the stream of consciousness as a fixed thing and call it I.

We are as selves quite like the flame of a candle. As wax melts near a lit wick and burns it emits light near the tip of the candle that appears as a more-or-less fixed shape. It is this seemingly unchanging shape that we refer to as flame.

What we call I is similar to that flame. Although both body and mind are an unceasing flow, since they preserve what seems to be a constant form we refer to them as I.

Actually, there is no I existing as some substantial thing; there is only the ceaseless flow. This is true not only of me, it is true of all things. In Buddhism, this truth is expressed as shogyo mujo, the first undeniable reality, that all things are flowing and changing, and shoho muga, the third undeniable reality, that all things are insubstantial.

Impermanence is ungraspable, but this never implies nonexistence. We live within the flow of impermanence, maintaining a temporary form similar to an eddy in the flow of a river. Though the water is always flowing, the eddy, like the flame of a candle, arises out of various conditions as a form that seems to be fixed. That there is this seemingly fixed form that is based on various conditions is interdependence.

In the case of the flame, it is the interdependence of such things as the wax, the temperature, and the air; in the case of the eddy, it is the volume and speed of the current, the topography, and so forth, that form the conditions of its existence.

Not only such things as eddies and flames, but indeed everything in the universe can be considered in a similar way. For example, we who live in the age of natural science can easily appreciate that no matter how solid a thing may appear, it is not really different from the flame or the eddy — its apparent solidity is merely a question of degree.

Returning to the question of self, I, too, am an interdependent existence that is impermanent and at the same time takes a particular form. Buddhism teaches that our attachment to our self as though it were a substantial being is the source of our greed, anger, suffering, and strife. It is crucial that we reflect thoroughly on the fact that our self does not have a substantial existence; rather it has an interdependent existence.

Kosho Uchiyama (1912-1999)

Excerpted from Opening the Hand of Thought – Foundations of Buddhist Practice, Kosho Uchiyama 2004

One of the core teachings in Buddhism is that of “co-dependent origination,” that nothing exists independently; rather, everything exists on the condition that its existence relies on all other entities.

This is a key understanding, and Uchiyama gives several easy-to-understand examples of how this works in everyday life. It still can take a while to translate how this experience of an enduring sense of I is in reality a fiction we continue to cling to.

This attachment to a sense of self becomes a hindrance. However, in conventional speech, it is awkward to eliminate pronouns, and feels contrived. As practitioners we live with a foot in both worlds, the one of ordinary language and the one of dharma language.

In attempting to realize this deep point of the teaching, we can start by noticing the times in each day when there is no sense of I present. Start to feel the pull of desires, cravings, and pulls occurring which engender a strong sense of self. This sense of awareness is germane to meditation and fits in well with bringing meditation into daily life.

Recalling a phrase from practice:

Awareness is my sword

Yours along the Way,

Elana, Scribe for Daily Zen