The Instructions to the Cook (“ITTC”) is a work by Dogen which describes how we can engage in Zen practice through everyday activity. The main lesson is to conduct your activity with your full authentic self, and particularly without judgement. I wanted to write a critique of sorts of this work because there is something about it that has been bothering me for some time. I recently listened to a dharma talk about ITTC that held it in such high regard, unquestioningly, that I wanted to write about why I think that attitude may be less than ideal. The translation I referred to for this is available here. If you haven’t read it, it is only about 7 pages and definitely worth your time.

ITTC appeals to me, probably as it does to many others, because of its focus on work as a form of practice. In our modern society, particularly in the west, we have been conditioned to view our work as fundamental to our identity and the most important aspect of our lives, perhaps only second to caring for our families (and that point is debatable). It makes sense then that Dogen’s work on the topic is so popular, as we are drawn to search for a deeper meaning in (or at least the tools to tolerate) our jobs.

My critique here is less about ITTC itself, which I do like very much, but about how zen practioners tend to treat it. Specifically, I think practioners tend to view ITTC as the “answer” for how to do work, and ignore its limitations in application to modern life.

The Instructions to the Cook were written just a few years shy of exactly 1,000 years ago. Dogen himself had come to and was writing about a Zen (Chan) tradition that existed for centuries before him. While I don’t doubt there are lessons, and wisdom, and teachings to be gained from these ancient writings (why else would I be here), I do think it's worthwhile to have a critical eye toward some of these writings and to examine where there are weaknesses in its application to modern life.

There is the common Zen saying, “cut wood, carry water.” Many Zen practioners refer to this phrase, likely without ever having cut wood or carried any water in their lives, and certainly not on a regular basis. We have central heating and A/C now, and indoor plumbing. Our lives look markedly different from Dogen’s time and earlier. Even the more modern Zen figures of note, like the two Suzukis, talked of their complicated and busy modern world, witing in the 1950s and 60s. Needless to say, life has gotten more complicated and busy since even then.

And this is true of work as well. Most obviously, modern work is much more likely to be “knowledge work” rather than manual labor. Many, if not most, are more likely to make spreadsheets than stews. I think this modern work poses some unique problems that Dogen did not have to deal with when instructing the cook. The carrot that needs to be chopped is right in front of the cook, they hold it with their hand and cut it with the knife in their other hand. It is easier to engage in this activity without chasing thoughts. When the office drone works, we are necessarily engaged in thinking about concepts and abstract ideas. In order to work, we must enter a world of heavy delusions about quarterly profits, and marketing campaigns, and accounting figures, and the like. So much that is so very important, to the point of causing us great stress, but which does not exist outside our minds. Another fundamental difference is our relationship to work – for Dogen’s tenzos the work was to feed the sangha, for us the work is to satisfy shareholders. Much has been said about the devaluing of work in the past few decades, so I won’t dwel on the point.

There is still much in ITTC that I think we can and should use in our own work practice, whatever that work may be. And there is certainly an argument that the fundamental teachings in ITTC are equally applicable to our own work now, that the differences I cite are not as great as I make out. Maybe so. Nevertheless, I think we also need not take Dogen or any ancient Zen master as a source of perfect instruction on how to live our lives. Our world is far different. While we can take the wisdom of the past and carry it forward, we also need to work out what Zen means for us here and now.

Summary of Instructions to the Cook

For those who haven’t read it, and for whatever reason decide not to, the following is my very abdriged sumamry. Dogen begins by describing the various “officers” in Buddhist monasteries and describes the tenzo (head cook) as “an all-consuming pursuit of the way” which was held be great ancestral teachers throughout history. Dogen then describes the duties of the cook with great specificity (obtaining ingredients, meal planning, cooking). Sprinkled throughout are quotable concepts that can and should be taken as advice on how to approach work:

• Having obtained the ingredients, “protect and be frugal with them, as if they were your own eyes.”

• “When washing rice, preparing vegetables, and so on, do so with your own hands, with close attention, vigorous exertion, and a sincere mind. Do not indulge in a single moment of carelessness or laziness. Do not allow attentiveness to one thing result in overlooking another. Do not yield a single drop in the ocean of merit; even a mountain of good karma can be augmented by a single particle of dust.”

• “If you pay careful attention to detail, watching when coming and watching when going, then your mind cannot be scattered, and [the food] will naturally be replete with the three virtues and endowed with the six flavors.”

• “Treat utensils such as tongs and ladles, and all other implements and ingredients, with equal respect; handle all things with sincerity, picking them up and putting them down with courtesy.”

• “Treat utensils such as tongs and ladles, and all other implements and ingredients, with equal respect; handle all things with sincerity, picking them up and putting them down with courtesy.”

• “Of old it was said, "When steaming rice, treat the pot as one's own head; when rinsing the rice, know that the water is one's own lifeblood."”

• “When ordinarily preparing ingredients, do not regard them with ordinary [deluded] eyes, or think of them with ordinary emotions. "Lifting a single blade of grass builds a shrine;10 entering a single mote of dust turns the great wheel of the dharma."11 Even when, for example, one makes a soup of the crudest greens, one should not give rise to a mind that loathes it or takes its lightly; and even when one makes a soup of the finest cream, one should not give rise to a mind that feels glad and rejoices in it. If one is at the outset free from preferences, how could one have any aversions? Even when confronted with poor ingredients, there is no negligence whatsoever; even when faced with scanty ingredients, one exerts oneself. Do not change your mind in accordance with things. Whoever changes his mind in accordance with things, or revises his words to suit the person [he is speaking to], is not a man of the way.”

• “Throughout the day, as you prepare the meals, do not pass the time in vain. If your preparations are true, then your movements and activities will naturally become the deeds of nurturing the womb of the sage. The way to put the great assembly at ease is to step back and transform yourself”

• “ If there is a matter that can be valued, you should value the matter of awakening to the way. If there is a time that can be valued, surely you should value the time of awakening to the way!”

Dogen also tells two stories about his interactions with tenzos while traveling to China. The first was an old monk working in the sun who refused to employ laborers to do the work in the hot sun because “they are not me” and did not wait for a cooler time of day to do the work. The other was another old tenzo who would not have dinner with Dogen because the tenzo had to return to his monestary and explains to Dogen why he chose to pursue the way as a cook and about the way more broadly:

In the ensuing conversation that I had with him I brought up the karmic conditions of written words and pursuit of the way that we had discussed previously on the ship. The cook said, "The study of written words is to understand the purpose of written words. Exertion in pursuit of the way requires an affirmation of the purpose of pursuing the way." I asked him, "What are written words?" The cook answered, "One, two, three, four, five." I also asked, "What is pursuit of the way?" He said, "In the whole world, it can never be hidden."

Dogen spends the rest of the work by addressing the same concepts in different ways and then engages in some “old man yells at the clouds” type rhetoric aimed at the lazy and dissatisfactory attitudes and practices of the time, particularly with respect meal preparation. --