Monday, August 17, 2009

Fear of winning is something we don't hear too much about, but it's something chess and Zen have in common. There is, of course, no winning in Zen just as there is no losing. But there is a parallel in that we so often resist our True Nature. Indeed it is easier for some people to believe they are "bad" or fundamentally flawed than it is to believe they are Buddha. As a result of this resistance, we feel incomplete, lacking, perpetually hungry for meaning. We sedate ourselves with media, drugs, sex, exercise. It's as though we can't take too much Buddha Nature. Most of us like our Buddha Nature only in small doses. A shotglass of it every now and then. But the fact is, we're always edgeless. Always birthless & deathless even as we're born and die. In chess, we fear winning because we feel unworthy, or perhaps we don't want our opponent to dislike us or harbor a grudge. Important to see this when it arises or we can lose many matches needlessly. Please see it clearly enough and it will evaporate. See self-limiting views chaining us to "me" or "I" and they too evaporate.

Friday, July 31, 2009

My first teacher played chess instead of Go --very unusual for an abbot of a Japanese monastery. Of course, we all played chess too because he did. When we had visitors, they thought we were all crazy. We were known as the chess monastery. The only monastery, I'm sure, in Japan where all the monks, and the abbot, played chess. My teacher would always insist choose black over white. I think it was his way of expressing compassion for his opponent, ie, giving them a slight advantage. Lately, though, I'm wondering if this was simply his strategy--allowing us to think we had an advantage!! This would still be compassionate, of course. I learned something every time I played him (ie, I lost every time I play him!).

Wednesday, July 29, 2009

Lots of people say the queen or maybe the rook is their favorite piece. Children like the knight because it looks like a horse and because it can jump. Sometimes people say the king is their favorite. But my favorite piece is the pawn. The pawn in chess is like the breath in Zen. Very basic. Essential, actually. In Zen, the entire cosmos hinges on each breath. In chess, the entire game hinges on the deployment of pawns. It's easy to think that the pawn is the least important piece (maybe because there are eight of them) but sometimes it is the crucial piece. Many, many games are won or lost because of pawns.

In the English language, being a pawn is a bad thing. It means you are being used by someone else or perhaps a corporation or a government. This is too bad because a pawn is really very beautiful, very elegant, even delicate. Again, like the breath. To be deeply aware of the breath is to be deeply aware of the intimacy of self and cosmos. To be deeply aware of all pawns on the board is to be deeply aware of all pieces, and thus the whole board. Next time you play chess pay extra attention to all pawns and see if this is true. Next time you meditate, pay extra attention to the breath (even more than usual) and see if you find any separation between you and cosmos.

Tuesday, July 28, 2009

A student once said to me: "Roshi, in Zen there is compassion, but in chess there is no compassion. It's a ruthless game with a winner and loser. Why do you always talk about chess?" I understand what the student is saying, but he is wrong. If you beat me, I am grateful because I almost certainly learned something about chess and so have become a better player. In Zen we say that the giver of a gift should be grateful because true giving is the manifestation of Avalokitesvara Bodhisattva. In true giving, there is no expectation of thanks or a return of favor. One gives like a lake giving water vapor to the sky. It's completely natural and unforced. There's no expectation of of a certain cloud formation. In chess, the loser should be grateful because the loser usually learned more about chess than the person who won. If in losing, you are grateful, you are a true loser! 100% Buddha.

Also, when I lose I have to let go of any idea of a self who "lost." There is no winning or losing in the Dharma. Still, it is necessary to talk of winning and losing when we play chess. We should not be afraid of words. I say "I" and "you" but I know there's no separation.

If I beat you, I am happy, but also a little sad if you are sad. So there should be compassion in winning as well. Winning or losing is the same event seen from two different vantage points. Really, there is just the chess game. Winner and loser are not two. That's compassion.
Chess and Zen are not so different. People tend to think chess is intellectual, thinking game and zen is non-intellectual, non-thinking, non-game! But all this is just thinking. To play chess you must throw away self. Throw away me playing versus you. Only then can you really move. Only then will you disappear and each piece on the board is Buddha. If you play chess completely this happens with no effort.