Teachers
Our teachers introduce themselves and share their thoughts about the Zen teacher role
Jeff Kōgen Seul, Rōshi
Tibetan Buddhist monks taught me to meditate in the late 1980s. Having been raised Roman Catholic and studied with the Jesuits, I soon learned of the Christian contemplative tradition (through a book by a Zen teacher) and met the Trappist monk Thomas Keating, who had participated in some of the first sustained dialogues among Christian monastics and Japanese Zen teachers. I practiced Centering Prayer under Keating’s guidance for a few years, while also sitting with Zen practitioners and practicing Kyudo (Zen archery) as a student of Kanjuro Shibata XX, Sensei, the Imperial Bowmaker of Japan.
After years of formal Zen practice, I ultimately became a student of Kevin Jiun Hunt, Roshi, another participant in those early encounters among Christian monastics and Japanese Zen teachers–and the first North American Trappist monk also to become a Zen teacher himself. I eventually received dharma transmission from Roshi Hunt. I am a teacher and preceptor in the White Plum lineage of Taizan Maezumi Roshi.
The Zen path is dynamic and ever evolving. I embrace Zen’s ancient forms, practices, and teachings as they have been transmitted to us from China and Japan, as well as contemporary turns of the Dharma Wheel, including Engaged Buddhism and ways in which Zen has been enriched by contemporary encounters with other traditions. As Keizan wrote seven centuries ago, “Don’t just long for the past–avail yourself of the present day to practice Zen.”
I’ve thought and written a lot about conflict and peacebuilding, including the relationships among religion, conflict, and peace. I spent a couple of years at Harvard Divinity School studying comparative religion, ethics, and conflict resolution, then taught conflict resolution full-time at Harvard Law School (where I also studied) for a few years. I still teach part-time at both schools, focusing on transformation of conflicts involving worldview and deeply held value differences, peace and national dialogue processes, and related topics. I also serve as co-chair and contribute to the fieldwork of the Peace Appeal, an NGO that supports inclusive peace and national dialogue processes in countries afflicted by, or at risk of, violent conflict. My day job is practicing corporate law at a big firm, where I lead our tech industry group.
I post most of my Dharma talks and muse about Zen topics on my Turning Words blog.
Kevin Hunt, Jeff Seul, and Fran Ludwig
Fran Jindō Ludwig, Sensei
I came to Zen relatively late in life, having been born into a family with a strong Southern Baptist pedigree. By the time I was in high school, I was becoming disenchanted with those beliefs, and entered an extended period of exploration and agnosticism. It wasn’t until much later in life (I was 59) that I encountered Zen, and finally knew that I was home. I have been a serious Zen student since 2007, and have studied with several Zen teachers in the Soto and Rinzai traditions.
In 2021 I had the good fortune to reconnect with Jeff Kōgen Seul, who I had known casually from previous sesshins. Jeff had become the dharma heir of Kevin Jiun Hunt, Roshi in the White Plum lineage. I immediately found myself feeling very closely aligned with Jeff’s teaching and thinking, became his student, and ultimately received Dharma transmission from him in November 2023. We and others together offer a warm and welcoming community for Zen practice at Full Moon Zen.
My education and professional life have meandered through the worlds of immunology and research, as well as ecology and environmental protection. However, some of the most meaningful work in my life has been in the field of mental health. I am the parent of two adult children, one of whom struggles with significant mental health challenges. As a result, I have been active in the mental health community, and a long-time advocate for adequate funding and enhanced access and support for those with mental illness.
I am a great lover of the natural world, and have found its beauty and refuge an important part of my own mental health and an inspiration for practice. Most mornings and evenings you can find me wandering in the woods around my home in Middlefield, CT.
I have found that my Zen practice, supported by therapeutic work to illuminate unconscious behaviors, together with compassionate work in the world, have all been essential parts of an integrated path toward wholeness and living an awakened life. My wish is to support others on their journey to awakening as we grow together toward greater and greater wholeness.
You can find most of my dharma talks on my blog, knockingfromtheinside.org.
On Zen Teachers
We find teachers in many domains of life, as we do in spiritual practice. Zen teaching is a service role. Zen teachers ideally have long experience in Zen practice and have developed the types of insight that long experience in Zen practice can produce (but does not guarantee). We expect Zen teachers to have sound knowledge of Zen history, teachings, and forms. We also genuinely hope they manifest maturity in all aspects of life and are humble, wise, and compassionate. A Zen teacher should possess the willingness and interpersonal skills necessary to help others find their own way along the Zen path.
Zen teachers have certain types of authority, including authority to meet with other practitioners for spiritual guidance in dokusan, to help others work with koans, to help others prepare for and participate in Jukai (receiving the Zen precepts), to perform liturgical and other ceremonial functions, and to authorize others to teach. In the past, however, the Zen teacher role was overly mythologized and otherwise inflated, and we too often find resonances of this past in the present. Inflation of the teacher role sometimes was understood as a prod to others’ realization—teachers were idolized and emulated—but we question the utility of that. We believe the role also has been inflated for cultural and other reasons that are at best anachronistic, and, at worst, hinder realization or even contribute to harm.
Teachers may play a valuable role, but that role ought not to be amplified beyond the scope of its potentially considerable but limited utility. As Siddhartha Gautama, the historical Buddha, is reputed to have said, each of us must work out our own salvation (realization) with diligence. Each of us must discover ourselves as that which we are seeking. Any teacher worthy of one’s attention and respect will want nothing less for and from us. They will simultaneously strive to provide an example of being oneself that is worth imitating and they will not accept mere imitation of that example. Zen is a practice of becoming intimate with and expressing one’s own unique Dharma.
Long-term Zen practitioners often develop a close mentoring relationship (called a shoken relationship) with a particular teacher. Those who do have a shoken relationship also are encouraged to have relationships with and learn from other teachers–and, indeed, to learn from all of one’s fellow practitioners.
Zen teachers do not know it all (whatever that possibly could mean). We believe all teachers should remain students in the sense of continuing to learn and grow. They should very genuinely and openly serve as teachers with that orientation. Life is ever-changing. There is no end to practice or the potential to expand and deepen one’s realization.
The primary value of working with a Zen teacher is the additional, focused opportunity it provides to cultivate, explore, and affirm one’s own experience of nonduality. That potential is expressed well by this koan (Book of Serenity Case 52) and its capping verse:
Caoshan asked elder De, “Buddha’s true Dharma body is like empty sky. It reflects forms just like water. How do you express this principle?”
De said, “It’s like a donkey looking at a well.”
Caoshan said, “You have got the point, but you have said only eighty or ninety percent of it.”
De said, “Master, how would you say it?”
Caoshan said, “It’s just like a well looking at the donkey.”
Capping Verse
When the teacher sees the student,
the student sees the teacher.
For the student to meet the teacher,
he must be the teacher.
Isn’t this the teacher meeting herself?
Isn’t this the student meeting himself?
“Who is that one?” by Robert Althouse (used with permission of the artist)
We view the Zen teacher role fundamentally as one of accompaniment in another’s discovery and embrace of their own Buddha nature. In this sense, a Zen “student” is simply one who seeks accompaniment on their journey and a Zen “teacher” is one who accompanies for as long as one wishes to have company. We consider genuine listening and open presence more important elements of teaching than sharing knowledge or imparting wisdom (though perhaps a capable teacher sometimes may be able to do that appropriately and sparingly, as well).
Recognizing both that Zen practice is continuous, and that some Buddhist clergy and clergy in other traditions have engaged in sexual and other forms of misconduct, each of our teachers maintains a relationship with their own teacher, actively participates in peer supervision and support networks, and completes a Buddhist Healthy Boundaries course and other pastoral care educational activities.
Finally, in case you’re curious, “Sensei” simply means teacher. It’s the title one receives when one’s teacher authorizes one to teach (which is known as Dharma transmission and has long been the only way one may become a Zen teacher). In Japan, those in varied domains of practice who have developed sufficient mastery to teach others are referred to as Sensei. “Rōshi” is an honorific title that one may receive from one’s own teacher after some years spent teaching. It signifies one’s teacher’s final “seal of approval” (known as Inka Shōmei in our White Plum lineage) but doesn’t confer any additional teaching authority. It’s basically a term of endearment meaning something like “old teacher.” The term “Zen master” is more of a Western thing than a Japanese thing. Perhaps it arose because of the Japanese understanding of a teacher as someone who has developed mastery in one’s domain. For some in the West, the word “master” has a different, understandably negative connotation. We don’t use the term much, but, when it’s used in our Zen circles, it’s intended to signify long experience, not power to direct or control.
Zen and Psychotherapy
It is not uncommon for personal issues to come up in our Zen practice. A teacher can be helpful in bearing witness and holding space for difficult experiences and emotions, and, if desired, by offering the teacher’s own perspective on how best to meet them with wisdom and compassion. A teacher also may help one realize how fully meeting life’s difficulties may provide powerful openings to greater wholeness.
It is important to appreciate that a teacher is not a psychotherapist, but working with a psychotherapist may be a very useful adjunct to Zen practice. Some issues that come up in or affect your practice may be explored more profitably with a therapist. In addition, certain types of psychotherapy can help reveal repressed or unconscious material that can be released into your practice on the cushion. Zen and psychotherapy can support and potentiate each other, serving as important partners in liberating us into the fullness of life.
Cautions
There are several ways in which a student-teacher relationship can become problematic, and Zen unfortunately has some sordid examples of this. It is important for you to be alert to signs that things might not be as they should be.
Perhaps the biggest trap is that many students tend to idolize or idealize a teacher as some sort of perfect being, which practically guarantees disappointment and disillusionment. This is a form of transference, in which the student has subconsciously transferred their own awakened nature onto the teacher. In another form of transference, sometimes a student may begin to afford the teacher a generalized authority they do not claim or do not deserve, or to project positive or negative parental qualities onto them. While teachers should be held to a high standard of responsibility and care, even the best teachers are human and make human mistakes, so this expectation may cause disappointment even if a teacher behaves ethically. If either the student or the teacher notices that idealization or transference are beginning to take place, it is important to call it out and discuss it openly.
Another reason problems might occur in the student-teacher relationship is because Zen practice often exposes our vulnerable places. This can open us up emotionally in ways that create a sense of intimacy with a teacher. Appropriately held, this intimacy can create important opportunities for growth. However this sense of intimacy can sometimes become confused with romantic feelings, leading to misunderstanding, hurt, or, sadly, even abuse.
While we think it is fair to say most Zen teachers behave appropriately, some teachers have used students to support their own emotional, financial, or sexual needs in a process called counter-transference. If you notice signs of a teacher in our Sangha or any other bringing their personal issues or needs into the relationship, or making romantic or sexual overtures, you should let another teacher, the community’s ethics ombudsperson, or another sangha leader know immediately. Other red flags may include a teacher asking for favors, insisting on secrecy, or asking to meet privately outside of dokusan.
A final caution is to avoid confusing roles. Although there is some difference of opinion on this matter, our view is that a Zen teacher should not also serve as your psychotherapist, accountant, lawyer, professional consultant, etc., and the student should not provide such services to the teacher. Crossing professional boundaries can further complicate the teacher-student dynamic, so we think these roles are best kept separate.
If a student-teacher relationship breaks down for any of these reasons, it can be deeply hurtful. We bring our highest expectations and aspirations to spiritual practice, often placing our trust in and opening up to others, so breaches of trust or of our reasonable expectations may be especially painful. Full Moon Zen’s teachers have seen this sort of harm occur and are fully committed to avoiding harm. This primarily requires commitment from teachers to maintain healthy boundaries, and, secondarily, from students to be alert and wise stewards of their own practice and our community, as well.
Possible Scripts for Expressing Concern or Seeking Change
Because of the asymmetrical nature of any student-teacher relationship, some students may hesitate to speak up if they are uncomfortable. While Full Moon Zen’s teachers intend and hope you will never feel a need to express concerns, you may want to recall scripts such as these if you find yourself feeling uncomfortable:
“What you just said makes me feel uncomfortable.”
“I feel you are crossing appropriate student-teacher boundaries by telling me that.”
“I’m not comfortable with you asking me to do/say that.”
“I am not unconcerned about your personal problems, but I am not here to help you with them.”
“Please don’t touch me.”
“Have you talked to a peer about the things you are telling me? If not, I feel obligated to let someone else know.”
There also may be situations in which it would be best to speak up even if you consider a teacher’s conduct to be perfectly acceptable. The following are two examples:
“I notice I am developing romantic feelings for you that are interfering with this relationship from my perspective. I do not not feel you have invited or would encourage that, but I nonetheless think it would be best for me to work with a different teacher.”
Or, simply and for whatever reason, “I’ve decided that I’d like to begin working with a different teacher.”
It is perfectly fine to request a change of teacher without disclosing your reason(s) for it. There is no obligation to meet with a teacher, nor to justify your reason(s) for not wanting to do so.
A Few Words About Dokusan and Maintaining a Healthy Student-Teacher Relationship
Dokusan is a private meeting with a teacher to talk about your practice. This might include asking questions about your sitting practice, working on a koan, or exploring how to meet questions or issues that are arising for you. Meetings are generally brief (5-10 minutes), but can sometimes be longer. Whatever comes up in dokusan will be held in confidence by the teachers (who may discuss your dokusan sessions among themselves for the purpose of better supporting your practice). You are free to share what you wish with others, except for responses to koans.
It is customary for the student and teacher to bow to each other as a dokusan meeting begins. Though bowing three times is traditional—once when you are standing in the doorway, once as you stand behind your cushion, and once after you sit down—it is perfectly fine in our sangha to bow once just after you take your seat. (When meeting by Zoom, one bow is customary.) After your seated bow, state your first name and your practice. For example, you might say “My name is Sue and my practice is counting the breath.” If you are working on a koan, you may then state the koan, or you may bring up an issue you would like to discuss. When the meeting is over, you and the teacher will bow to each other again, and you then leave the room.