Zen Master Hakuin: Keep the Fire Down Below

In my most recent post, I discussed the possibility that the emphasis on hara breathing originated in the co-mingling of Buddhist and Taoist practices in the early days of Chinese Ch'an. Given Zen's influence on Japanese culture, it's conceivable that the significance of hara in Japanese culture also had Taoist roots. 

Despite these distant origins, a relatively recent figure is widely recognized as emphasizing hara breathing in Japanese Zen.  That person was the illustrious Zen master Hakuin Ekaku.  To give one example of his role in the centrality of hara breathing, I recently learned of a Japanese society that promotes tanden (here synonymous with hara) breathing.  It’s called the NPO Association to Promote Tanden Breathing Methods. They describe Hakuin as the person who put tanden breathing in the "spotlight" during the Meiji era (1858-1912). The founder of the association, Yukei Fujita, began his breathing practices after he read a book by Hakuin. I will write more about Fujita and the association in future posts.  There is good evidence that Hakuin's emphasis on hara breathing was inspired by his exposure to Taoist practices.

Hakuin is widely seen as a luminary figure, one of the greatest Zen masters of all time.  He revitalized Japanese Zen from a time of stagnation. He codified Zen temple protocols that are still used today. He also re-emphasized the importance of koan training in Rinzai Zen.  He wrote a chant, the "Song of Zazen," in which he distilled complex Zen concepts in a vernacular accessible to Japanese peasants, to whom he devoted much of his attention.  In my lineage of Zen, we recite the chant nightly during our intensive training periods. Hakuin was also a noted calligrapher. Last year, the Japan Society in New York had a large exhibition of Zen calligraphy. His work was its central feature.

Hakuin was born in 1686 in rural Japan.  When he was eight years old, his mother, a Nichiren Buddhist, took him to a lecture on the "eight hot hells."  This experience instilled in him a profound fear of hell, and decided that the only way to escape it was to become a monk.  He became a novice in a Zen temple when he was 15.  While it's unclear whether he received formal dharma transmission, he's recognized as the dharma heir to Shoju Rojin, a Zen master with whom he studied for less than a year. 

Hakuin trained intensely in his early years, neglecting his health while doing so.  He eventually became quite ill, with something he called "Zen sickness." In his essay "Yasen Kanna" ("A Chat on a Boat in the Evening"), he described his symptoms in evocative prose:

 “My heart began to make me dizzy, my lungs became dry, my limbs felt cold as if they were immersed in ice and snow.  My ears were filled with ringing as of the rushing waters of a swift river in a deep canyon. My inward organs felt weak, and my whole body trembled with apprehension and fears.  My spirit was distressed and weary, and whether sleeping or waking I used continually to see all sorts of imaginary things brought to me through my six senses.  Both sides of my body were continually bathed in sweat, and my eyes were perpetually filled with tears.”

There has been speculation about how to view Hakuin’s condition through the lens of modern medicine.  Some wonder if he had tuberculosis. Others think it might have been a “nervous breakdown” or a psychosomatic illness, possibly neurasthenia, a now antiquated psychiatric diagnosis.

An acquaintance recommended that Hakuin seek the help of Hakuyu, a hermit living in the mountains who is usually described as a Taoist sage. Feeling desperate, Hakuin set off on foot for the arduous journey to see the hermit.

After learning about his condition, the hermit gave Hakuin the following instructions:

“Sir, gather together the flames of fire in your heart and place them under your navel and below your feet, then your whole chest will become cool, you will not have a single worrying thought, no single drop of a wave of desire will disturb the waves of consciousness.  This is the true and pure meditation…A hundred and one diseases are cured by putting your heart in your feet.”

Following these instructions, Hakuin regained his physical and psychological health and became one of the greatest Zen masters in history.  It’s said that in his 70s, he had the vitality of a man in his 30s.

If the metaphor of lowering the heart sounds familiar, it may be because I discussed this in an earlier post.  In Taoist alchemy, the lower abdomen is viewed as the realm of water, and the chest is considered the realm of fire.  We learn to bring the fire down to the abdomen through training to make "steam." And that steam is what we call chi or ki, vital energy that infuses the body.  We do that by lowering our breath from the upper torso to the lower abdomen; in other words, hara breathing. Bringing our hearts to our feet simply emphasizes lowering the breath, which draws the ki or chi downwards. Or, to put it in more contemporary terms, we keep the fire down below.

If you want to learn more about Hakuin, I recommend reading "Wasen Kanna  ." I quoted the version in the book "The Embossed Tea Kettle: Orate Gama and Other Works of Hakuin Zenji," translated by R.D. M Shaw (Allen and Unwin, 1963).  Hakuin also wrote an autobiography, which was translated and annotated by Norman Waddell (“Wild Ivy, The Spiritual Autobiography of Zen Master Hakuin”, Shambhala, 1999).  There is a recent historical novel based on his life called "Night Boat" by Allen Spence (Cannongate, 2013).  I haven't read it because I am not a fan of historical fiction. However, many of my colleagues have read it and speak highly of it.

Ellen and I will continue to alternate entries for this blog. She and I have been busy preparing videos for our asynchronous hara development course. We look forward to sharing the final project with you.

As always, we welcome your comments on our posts or any aspects of hara development.  Click here for the link.

And remember: Keep the fire down below!