Shuso Entering Ceremony

In the fall of 2001, I watched wide-eyed as Glynn Debrocky of Empty Hand Zendo took the Shuso's seat, the seat of head monk for the practice period ahead. Traditionally, the ceremony includes a brief Q & A: three times the teacher asks the student to be shuso. Twice the student says, in effect, I respectfully demure. At that first Shuso Entering Ceremony, I thought Glynn was actually hesitating; I didn't understand it was part of the ritual. This morning, I understood that head student Patty Pecararo's responses were prescribed. I also understood this call and response between teacher and student as an expression of deep humility. I can't. I cannot. I will.



Look with me at ritual as container. Processional: The teacher enters the zendo with two attendants, one behind her, one before her, each of the two holding an inkin (small temple bell) and striking them in alternation, the attendants and their sound the vehicle that carries the teacher to her seat. Gesture: Someone directs the Shuso to her seat with a hand extended toward that seat. Within the ceremony it is an act of kindness and caring: Here is the way. Configuration: Four attendants, chosen by seniority, form a square in front of the altar, and stand like still sentinels, witnesses.



When the half hour ceremony ended, there were four or five of us still in the zendo, cushions and chairs to be set right, sutra books to tuck under zabutons, altars to replenish with stick incense, candles to extinguish. We worked in silence, silence a ritual in its own right, the container for our mindful care-taking, the tasks quotidian, joyful.



Now begins the work of the weeks ahead, one period of zazen at a time, one breath at a time. This Shuso's commitment: Something akin to a vigil in which she who watches and the object of her watchfulness are not two, not one. With hands palm to palm, I bow and in my own way take my seat beside her.