Charlotte Joko Beck was a renowned Zen teacher, co-founder of the Ordinary Mind Zen School and former head
of the San Diego Zen Center. In the 1960s she trained under Hakuun Yasutani Roshi and Soen Nakagawa Roshi,
and later began training under Hakuyu Maezumi Roshi, moving to Zen Center of Los Angeles in 1977. In 1983
she became the 3rd Dharma heir of Maezumi Roshi. She then founded the Zen Center of San Diego, and taught
there until 2006. Joko semi-retired in 2006 and moved to Prescott, Arizona, founding the Zen Center of
Prescott. She passed away on June 15th, 2011 at the age of 94. She was the author of:
- Everyday Zen: Love and Work. 1989. Harper Row. ISBN 0-06-060734-3.
- Nothing Special: Living Zen. 1994. Harper Row. ISBN 0-06-251117-3.
A chapter discussing her work can be found in L. Friedman's book, Meetings with Remarkable Women:
Buddhist Teachers in America. 1987. Boston & London: Shambhala.
Spacious, Nothing Special
by
Elihu Genmyo Smith
What was most remarkable about Charlotte Joko Beck was her
spaciousness. Being with her was sharing this spaciousness, which is
ours - though we often miss it. Joko translated this into practice to
allow others to taste it and see what attachments and self-centeredness
were hindering and obscuring this. Though some got caught up in
particular methods of working with clinging and emotional reactions,
Joko encouraged observing, noticing reactions and bodily experiencing to
“pop” into the present.
Joko became a teacher because others made
her one. People came to her to talk about practice long before she was
designated formally as a Dharma heir. The clarity of her own life and
practice, her ability to help them clarify their life, was what
attracted others to her. Though her official work was as a secretary to
Maezumi Roshi, her office was often filled with those seeking practice
help. People came to her apartment door during “free time” to talk with
her. “There are always shoes at Joko’s door,” was said at ZCLA.
When people went to Maezumi Roshi with personal difficulties, often he
would tell them, “Go talk to Joko.”
Early in her teaching life she surprised people in a Dharma talk at ZCLA
by saying, “I am fully
present about 15-20% of the time.” This frankness thrilled many, as it
went against the idealized (and nearly unattainable) image that Zen
teachers were “always fully present.”
Joko said to me, “Roshi
doesn’t know what to make of my Dharma talks. He isn’t sure if he likes
them. But since so many people tell him how much they like them, he says
to me, ’Joko, give more talks.’ “
Despite grandmotherly kindness
and the ordinariness of her life and practice approach, Joko was
rigorous in her practice and teaching. She set clear expectations for
her students of daily sitting, coming to the Zendo and coming see her
regularly. She said to many students who lived at a distance, “call me
every week,” if they wanted to be her student. She was one of the first
Zen teachers to encourage students to use phone calls to her as a
regular practice tool.
Family relations, jobs, emotions and
upsets could not be separated from “Zen practice” and she did not allow
students to avoid those. Once, (before I had any children) she said to
me, “When biological ties are touched, especially mother-child, it is
hard not to get caught.” I know this was true in her life and something
she worked with regarding her own adult children.
Joko used many
practice devices to shake up attachments. “Don’t be attached to any
form,” she said to me in regard to the Bodhisattva precept “not
begrudging the Dharma Treasure” (Being Generous/Not Being Greedy).
During sesshin/intensives, the biggest meal is lunch, with rice,
vegetables, tofu and a drink typical. One sesshin lunch at ZCSD when the
meal servers brought out the serving bowls the first course was slices
of bread; the second pitchers of water. And that was it. Joko reminded
those who complained that they had the option of “seconds” of bread.
Though some people think that Joko did not value intense practice,
this is not true. Her criticism of some forms of concentrated practice
was that they were treated in a narrow and limited way. She said, it is
“important not to shut anything out when doing concentrated practice,”
so that it is “continuous practice.” And that was exactly her emphasis
on ordinary life practice.
Joko did not use any titles for
herself. And when students made public comments at the end of sesshin
she often reminded them that she did not want to hear how wonderful she
was or how much they loved her, but wanted them to speak of their live
practice.
Joko ordained several people in private because she saw
it as supporting their life practice and ability to serve. She did not
want it to become a source of pride, or create a sense of privilege.
Though Joko made a number of Dharma heirs, in her last decade she
wondered if it would have been better not to make any. Being a Dharma
heir did not mean that one’s practice with her was over. She often told
her Dharma heirs who lived at a distance, “Call me,” to encourage them
to see this – some did and some did not. She was concerned about the
proliferation of titles and such among Zen people, and was critical of
Dharma heirs who “think they know something” (or “are something”).
When someone sewed two rakusu for me, Joko offered to write on them.
On the first she wrote “Namu Dai Bosa” (Being One with Great
Bodhisattva). On the second she happily wrote “Nothing special”.
Though she has died, we can share her spaciousness in her teachings and
in our ongoing practice.
© 2011 Elihu Genmyo Smith