Customer Reviews

First You Shave Your Head

5 star:		(3)
4 star:		(3)
3 star:		(0)
2 star:		(0)
1 star:		(0)

 

 

On the subject of growing up, an eminent teacher from Korea once said to his American followers: "First you must kill your parents; then, you must kill Buddha; and then, you must kill me."

Author Geri Larkin is a Dharma Teacher under a different Korean teacher, Samu Sunim. Her first two collections of dharma talks ("Stumbing Towards Enlightenment" and "Tap Dancing In Zen") are inspirational: completely heartfelt, utterly acessible and entertaining for a general reader. She is a single mom in Michigan who is also a serious student of Zen, such that when her teacher tells her she must shave her head for a pilgrimage in Korea, she does it - but prepares by consulting fashion magazines first. No pretentious, other-worldly Zen here.

This travelogue, in which she and an American dharma sister visit Korean temples along with their feisty master, is not Ally McBeal-goes-to-Asia: it is a plunge into the unknown. Korea is still very much another world, and all of the confidence this Zen practitioner had accumulated on her home turf is quickly stripped away by the weather, the rough terrain, the austerities of the trip, and the severe corrections of her teacher and other glowering monks along the way.

She likens the process to beating a shirt clean. She is left not even with humility - everything is taken away, reduced to "don't-know" mind: "The longer and more arduous the trip, the more your heart has a chance to open up until finally, in a moment of utter exhaustion, you realize that's all of you that is left - the heart part. Your mind has disappeared - the one that judges and gets mad and worries and thinks and fantasizes. Instead you are in love with your life, whatever it is. And the whole world is your family with the earth playing the lead role as universal nest, one you are thrilled to share with all takers. I almost forgot. You'll also lose ten pounds without even trying."

But holding on to that isn't it, either. The most wonderful thing this book offers (aside from some choice stories, one of the best being the elderly monk in the mountains who demonstrates how a soccer ball is the best exercise machine you will ever need) is an open-hearted account of a sincere student finding the real faith in practice, in which losing it is getting it and all the merit is given away.

Highly recommended.

Actually, I LOVE this book: Zen pilgrimage and Korean Dharma history to boot (just my thing}. Traveling with Larkin is like coffee with your best friend just outside the Zen hall -- as close (and enjoyable) as you can get without going in and actually sitting down on a mat yourself.

The only reason I didn't give it five stars (and I almost gave it three) was the back cover, upon which the marketing folks at the publishing house wrote something to the effect of Larkin being the first Western woman to have been honored with a pilgrimage through Korea's temples. Not only is this untrue, but NOWHERE in the text does Larkin herself make such a claim. What she DOES say is simply that her and traveling buddy Haju (also a WOMAN!) were the first Western women some of the Korean monks had ever seen -- which I'm sure was true.

Kind of a big difference there. Either someone at Celestial Arts accidentally misread Larkin's text, or they hoped to sell more books by stretching the truth. Either way is a little disrespectful not only to Larkin, but to the women who made the journey before her.

What an amazing journey I took when I read this book. Knowing little to nothing about Korea (ok there was that MASH tv show) and just a tad bit more about zen, I found myself alternating between tenderness and strength as I read through her journeys. A must read for anyone who thinks they are able to handle the rigors of a spiritual practice!

In many ways I agree with the previous review, although I draw slightly different conclusions. Often when I travel to other countries (even without an occasionally raging zen teacher; and even without having to constantly worry about the sometimes shifting protocols of new monasteries), I find myself fantasizing about a good omelette or NPR. That's true whether or not I'm trying like hell to be a solid, present little zen practitioner. And actually, that's true on zen retreats, & it's true when driving to the grocery store, for that matter.

In the interest of disclosure (and also because it colors, I think, my review of this book) I've sat retreats lead by Larkin. What I appreciate most about her way of practicing, as well as about her work in this book, is precisely her willingness to reveal herself warts and all. Perhaps because she's as dead serious as it comes about doing prostrations every morning and sitting her heart out, I don't take her mentions of Martha Stewart and fantasies of spas as anything more than utter honesty. If anything, I think it indicative of the HEALTHY state of evolving Dharma in the west.

I'm personally very tired of elevated zen masters in their elaborate robes who never admit to any kind of frailty and yet maybe sleep with their students on occasion (however "celibate" we're supposed to believe them to be), or flat-out abuse their students in the name of "correction." And even these zen teachers, I should add, warrant our compassion and understanding (if not the acceptance of such behavior), precisely because the point is no one is perfect. Ever. Never has been; never will be. Another way of saying it is everything is perfect, flaws and all (although we need not get hung up on this, as this has been the exact justification for the abusive behavior of many teachers, zen and otherwise: "oh, it's all just a teaching").

It takes great courage, I think, to be willing to present one's flaws as further teaching, to not hide them. And in the end, for us as practitioners, practice becomes attainable (not easier, none more shallow, but real and workable and honest) when we aren't made to mimic imitations of perfection that do not and have never existed.

There's a distinction, I think, between authority and authoritarianism, and while the previous reviewer laments a growing "anti-authoritarianism" in western Dharma practice, I view it as long overdue.

I thoroughly enjoyed this book. I read it cover-to-cover in the week after receiving it and was helped by it. Geri has the unique distinction in my experience of relating her own experience on her path rather than pointing to an idealized or abstracted one. I found that to be very accessible and easy to relate to. As a bonus, I learned a lot more of the history of Korea than I had known and developed a greater respect for the Korean people.

I am disinclined to analyse or critique Geri's experience. I believe it was hers, or as close as a story can come to capturing it, and I am the better for her having shared it with me. Her story works its magic by you walking alongside her rather than her pointing out the way.

I recommend this book.

While I did enjoy this book for it's easily digested format, I also found it was somewhat shallow in parts. This book "captures" Larkin's travels with her teacher (Samu Sunim) during the summer of 1999 all throughout South Korea. By the end of the book, Geri makes it no secret that she rather dislikes her teacher. There was one point in the book where Samu appears to lose his temper with her, for wearing her robes incorrectly in a monastery. Larkin resented this tremendously, and never really aptly admits the faults of her subsequent rage that followed thereafter.

For me, this is why I think Zen Buddhism in the West is having some real problems taking root. There is an almost anti-monastic and anti-authoritarian sickness enveloping our practice here. Larkin certainly realized that Zen as it is practiced in Korea is much more demanding than it is in Western countries, and her teacher is actually pretty cranky throughout the trip; this was summed up in Samu Sunim's informing Larkin and another female "monk" named Haju that he is "Correcting 3 years of mistakes in 30 days." This is accentuated by the fact that, at the time, Larkin claims she and Haju are the 1st women to be accepted as monks in these institutions. I don't think this is accurate, however. Zen master Seung Sahn had been taking men and women with him back to Korea all the time all throughout the early 80's.

Larkin mentions Martha Stewart 3 or 4 times in this work, commenting on one place they stay as having a Martha Stewart cleanliness to it. This book, flawed as it is, is at the very least written honestly. This can be observed in some of Larkin's somewhat immature observations and reactions throughout the work. If you're a Martha Stewart fan with a taste for spa treatments or shopping at the mall, then this book might actually speak real loud to you. For me, it was a good book but not a particularly insightful one. So on a Dharmic level, it's not much. As a travelogue, it wasn't bad. 3.5 to 4 stars.