The language that gathers around photography often has an aggressive edge: shoot, capture, take a photograph, grab a shot. This all fits with a materialist worldview where all things, including people have a pricetag and are available to be obtained and consumed. There is a market for photographs and for all kinds of art. But at the core of any art is a merging of subject and object, a kind of embrace and inseparability. An authentic photograph (notice I am not saying a “great” photograph) embodies this principle, as does a painting, a melody, or a dance.
Peter introduced the Three Tenets, refined and proliferated by Roshi Bernie Glassman and his circles: Not Knowing, Bearing Witness, and Loving Action. At the risk of oversimplifying, Not Knowing is the attitude with which we enter any moment. We have no idea what will arise and how things will come out. If we think we know, we risk violence or at least limitation to the moment itself and to ourselves. Bearing Witness is what we do simply by opening our eyes and really seeing, recognizing that we are all in this together, creating the world. Loving Action guides our response. It is our response-ability to what we witness.
For my part, I have lately been thinking and talking about the Buddhist principle of dana — giving or generosity. It is the first practice or perfection of a Bodhisattva. It is also first in the 13th Century Zen Master Dogen’s “Four Embracing Dharmas.” Dogen’s fascicle “Bodaisatta Shishobo” speaks lyrically of dana.
Two quotations from Shishobo for your consideration:
“We give flowers blooming on the distant mountains to the Tathagata, and offer treasures accumulated in past lives to living beings.”
“When the Way is entrusted to the Way, we attain the Way… We offer ourselves to ourselves, and we offer others to others.”
The words are simple; the thoughts are complex. Instead of taking a picture, we explored the activity of giving a picture, of giving ourselves to the world that appears through the lens, of allowing the world coming through the lens to give itself to us and to change us. Giving photographs of others to others and allowing them to give us images of ourselves. Each image is a new way of seeing a moment of reality. And as a photograph exists in time, naturally it fades and picks up creases and fingerprints. With each moment, the photograph itself offers up a new moment.
Before I get too far up where the air is thin, I want to tell you we had fun. Giving and taking is also play. Just being and doing things together at Tassajara is play. Playing like this our dozen retreatants discovered intimacy. As Dogen explains, “We offer ourselves to ourselves, and we offer others to others.” Who knows where this will lead.