Afterword: The Roll of the Han

The Han is a large wooden block, usually suspended by rope from a ceiling or beam in a Zendo. It usually has a concave area where many years of impacts by a wooden stick have left their mark. When a session of meditation is due to start, the Jikido, or timekeeper, knocks a distinctive rhythmic pattern on the Han to call practitioners to their cushions. Once everyone is seated, the Jikido regulates the start and end of each sit with rings of the bowl bell.

Once all the sessions of the day are completed, the Jikido returns to the Han and plays a pattern of rolls. Three rolls in total are heard, each roll being a series of knocks with the pauses between each hit becoming briefer and briefer, and the force of each impact becoming softer and softer. After the final roll, the Jikido gives the Han an authoritative thwack, takes a couple of steps forward, and with hands in gassho recites the Evening Gatha:[i]

Let me respectfully remind you:

Life and death are of supreme importance.

Time swiftly passes and opportunity is lost.

Each of us should strive to awaken.

Awaken!

Take heed. Do not squander your life.

This verse sounded very different to me when I first started practicing than it does now. It seemed to have an aggressive male energy that offended me a bit: domineering, tyrannical, presumptuous. Now I hear it quite differently. Of course, it still sounds like an exhortation to practice, but the way I think about how I can avoid squandering my life changes every time I hear the Evening Gatha. Sometimes I will even hear it as an exhortation to more hedonistic indulgence! Because an unenjoyed life is surely squandered, isn’t it?

Maybe I have persuaded you that our species developed a number of faculties over the millennia, each with their own independent utility, and that these abilities were combined to create the majestic power of storytelling. That this new ability became not just a tool of communication and organization, but an internal mechanism of self-regulation and social connection: that we became Story Animals. Our minds turned into hives where the narrative often seemed more real than our actual experience. This mode was powerful, but it also left us discontent and vulnerable. And also: that there is a different way of being that can make us steadier, stronger, more connected and more content.

Or perhaps I have failed to convince you of any of this.

It doesn’t matter. You’re done listening to me, now I ask that you listen to you.

We Buddhists call our practice The Way, but really there are many Ways, aren’t there? You have a Way. I’ve urged you to question your Self, but that is not the same thing as distrusting your organism. You probably know very well what you need to do to grasp opportunity in your life. Deep down, you know.

It might mean starting a practice like I have described… or taking more naps instead. It might be drinking less, or giving up social media. It might mean finding a new job, or making a better go at the one you’ve got. It might be asking a girl or boy out, or recommitting to a relationship. It might mean being more patient with your child, or giving your Mom a call. It might mean more work, or less work. It might mean bringing more people into your life, or protecting your moments of solitude. It might mean delivering food to the hungry and homeless, or a wild Friday night. Whatever it is, do it.

Take heed. Do not squander your life.

Afterword: The Roll of the Han

[i] This gatha appears in chanting books from both the Rinzai and Soto lineages of Zen. Its exact origin is unknown.

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Paul Broca and Modularity of Mind