Sublime

It was not until the monks Eisai (1141–1215) and Dogen (1200–1253) returned from their pilgrimages to temples in China that Zen started to catch the imagination of the Japanese.

Juo-na says, “Those who possess merit are attached to form. Those who do not possess merit transcend form. Because they transcend form, they conform with their nature. Those whose nature is like space, their merit is boundless.”

Nanao Sakaki, who translated Issa’s haiku, said, “Not gifted with genius but honestly holding his experience deep in his heart, he kept his simplicity and humanity.” That is how Issa wrote his haiku; that is how he got his style. Nothing fancy. He digested who he was: a human being with human experiences.

In the Japanese art of this period we see the emergence of wabi, sabi, aware, and yugen—qualities that have become synonymous with the Zen aesthetic. Wabi is a sense of loneliness or solitude. Sabi is the suchness of ordinary objects, the basic, unmistakable uniqueness of a thing in and of itself. Aware is a feeling of nostalgia, a longing for the

YOUTH: Yes, I guess that’s right! Let’s face it: I hate myself! I, the one who’s doing this playing around with old-fashioned philosophical discourse, and who just can’t help doing this sort of thing—yes, I really hate myself.

Its title is one of those never-ending Sanskrit words – Mūlamadhyamakakārikā – translated in numerous ways, including The Fundamental Verses of the Middle Way. I

Big Sky Mind: Buddhism and the Beat Generation, ed. Carole Tonkinson. New York: Berkley, 1995.