One of the miscellaneous koans is “Stopping the sound of the distant temple bell.” We begin looking into this koan by considering our experience with sound. First, what do you know of bells? Your direct experience of them?
There are so many varieties of bells. The deep resonance of the densho that calls us to the zendo, its nuanced reverberations diminishing slowly, or how about just the one CLANG shut of the dumpster lid outside? The old bells that used to ring in the school day, the ding-a-ling of the hall phone have been replaced by new sounds, the mechanical voice of a blaring car horn, the ping, ping, ping of a delivery truck backing up, the vibration of the cellphone deep in your pocket – an almost infinite array of signals on our devices – from cricket chirp to metallic pulsation. A text message, a phone call, an email or tweet, a civic emergency tone . . . . Each unique sound calls us to pay attention and asks us for some particular action. They are part and parcel of all our relations.
This koan requires us to listen and be aware of the field of sound, inner and outer, ever more minute and nuanced. All the infinite voices of our devising and of the natural world emerging as this very moment. Birds, a sneeze, stomach growling, wind, a branch snapping, the familiar voice of a friend, the water in the rill. Listening to sound is a practice that we can use anytime, anyplace, to focus the mind on this very moment. When we deeply listen we not only hear with our ears. It is in deepening this practice that we can begin to embody stopping the sound of the distant temple bell, or the distant traffic. Can you hear it?
