A koan is an idea, a thought, an exercise, a story fragment, a narrative, or even an image, as is the case with the two paintings here. You practice with these koans (below), first cognitively, then intuitively, softly, vigorously, until they finally and paradoxically explode in our mind, taking you to a place beyond words and concepts. Koans don’t really explain anything, rather open you up to a mind where everything is pure, vibrant, and joyous.
Note that this is a longterm practice and requires regularity and discipline. Getting to see beyond words and concepts can take many months, or even years, but there is a profound sense of calmness that occurs early on.
You can print cards of these paintings to keep near you as you practice with the image. Look at them softly. Also, you can buy larger prints, frame and hang them, and watch them from a chair. Practicing with a koan is casual but consistent and is done over a period of months and years, a few minutes every day or a few days a week, or a couple of weeks a month. There is joy in the practice, in the exploration of the koans. It is not about attaining a goal, rather finding insight into one’s life a tiny bit at a time.
Preparation
Sit comfortably. Place one of the images so that you see all the figures in it. Take 3-4 deeper than normal breaths; observe when inhaling that you are inhaling, when exhaling that you are exhaling. Look at the picture, softly but attentively—no staring, for 3-5 minutes, using one of the ways of mindful seeing below. (These techniques can also be used when walking in “green spaces”.) Pick one of the five mindful ways of seeing each time you sit down to practice with the koan. Allow the image to gently wash over you as you observe its shapes, or look upon its positive spaces, or notice all its negative spaces, or see its beginnings and endings, or sense its boundaries. Vary the type of seeing you are practicing with from session to session. Develop a sense of enjoyment from being with the image. During the day, when you are not formally practicing with the image, think about its meaning in your life and the koan as a universal statement of the ultimate, again with a soft intuitive sensibility.
While there are two images, visual koans below for you to practice with, it is best to choose one to work with for your first practice with this type of meditation.
Five Ways of Mindful Seeing
Shapes
Observe the three shapes, without naming or labeling. Notice where they intersect. Observe the intersections with an open awareness.
Positive Spaces
The ink lines create positive spaces. Perceive and investigate the positive spaces without naming or labeling them.
Negative Spaces
The “blank” areas inside and around the ink lines create negative spaces. Acknowledge the negative spaces without naming or labeling them.
Beginnings and Endings
Notice what you see as a beginning or an ending, without naming or labeling. Observe how distinctions become difficult to establish.
Boundaries
Boundaries are visual borders, dividing lines. Watch attentively how these fade in an out, even meld and disappear.
The Koans
Circle-Triangle-Square
The “Circle-Triangle-Square”, painted circa 1800, is Sengai Gibon’s picture of the universe. As described in a website of Sengai, “The circle represents the infinite, which is the basis of all beings. But the infinite in itself is formless. We humans, endowed with senses and intellect, demand tangible forms. Hence a triangle. The triangle is the beginning of all forms. Out of it first comes the square. A square is a triangle doubled. This doubling process goes on infinitely, and we have a multitudinously of things, which the Chinese philosopher calls ‘the ten thousand things’, that is, the universe.”
A framed copy of this painting hung in the dining room of the first Buddhist Temple where Carl practiced and where he ate breakfast with his teacher, Philip Whalen Roshi, most mornings for several years. Seeing the image so frequently, in the calm setting of the Temple, it became a part of Carl’s greater non-verbal understanding of himself and of the meaning of his life.
Six Persimmons
“Six Persimmons” is a still life likely to have been painted by the 13th century monk Muqi. It is revered (much like we revere the Mona Lisa) as one of the greatest pieces of Japanese art, admired for its symmetry and ambiguity. Absent any background or context and rendered only in tones of gray, the image exemplifies the kind of stark simplicity and attunement to nature that has led centuries of monks and Japanese laypeople to explore the universal meaning that arises from it.
