EYES IN THE BACK OF THE HEAD

Have you ever encountered teachers who seemed to know what was happening in the classroom behind their backs when they were writing on the blackboard? Or children who are convinced that their mothers somehow know exactly what mischief is afoot even when they are not in the same room?

These folks do not actually have eyes in the back of their heads, so are these examples of random coincidences? Or do they have some mysterious ability?

We all have the ability to sense both what is happening here-now and what is happening not-here-not-now, to sense across all time and all space. Our intellect and ego, however, overwrite this sense, and we too easily dismiss its message.

Sensual intuition is based on a subject perceiving an object through the six senses – sight, smell, taste, touch, sound, plus the intellect. To be especially attuned to these senses can make someone seem extraordinary. In fact, however, it is often just someone being very aware who now knows what was once unknown.

Spiritual intuition (Sanskrit: prajñā; Japanese: kan) is based on something else. When in operation, the seer and the seen are the same: there is no separation. Now one is capable of knowing the unknowable; one is not trying to know, one just knows.

Many years ago, we had a memorial service for my father, who had recently died. Our immediate family, minus our mother, quietly chatted and waited in the choir room adjacent to the sanctuary of the church my parents attended. Suddenly, I said: “Mom’s here.” Then I asked my oldest sibling if she would go outside to meet the car and “protect” Mom from any people who might waylay her to talk as she tried to enter.

Though at the time, it did not seem unusual, I later wondered how out of all the cars and people arriving at the church, I just knew that Mom had arrived at that precise moment. When I related this incident to my Zen teacher Yokoyama Roshi, he replied, “How could you not know?”

In a scene from Akira Kurosawa’s “Seven Samurai,” Kambei, the reluctant samurai leader, tests possible recruits to defend farmers who had no money but only food to pay their protectors. He enlists his new disciple Katsuhiro to help: As Kambei stands just inside the door, Katsuhiro must strike the entering samurai with a heavy stick. A new recruit, however, reacts quickly, grabs the stick as it comes down and throws Katsuhiro across the room. He haughtily refuses to help because he wants more than just food as payment for his services. Katsuhiro eagerly notes he is a skilled swordsman, but Kambei is not reluctant to see him go.

With the stick-wielding disciple in position again, the next samurai who approaches is Gorobei. As he approaches, he senses Katsuhiro hiding inside the doorway and refuses to enter, saying, “Surely you jest.” Because Gorobei sensed the evil intent before anything happened – and even though we are not shown how technically skilled he might be, Kambei is satisfied that here is someone he wants by his side, and he successfully recruits Gorobei to the farmers’ cause.

In a similar exercise that we sometimes did at the monastery during trainings, two priests held shinai (bamboo swords) on each side of the door leading into the main space. One of the priests was assigned fill himself with saaki, or killing intent, and just before entering through the door, the student had to point to the side from which that intent was emanating. Could the student sense the feeling?

If we can point to something that caused us to have a “funny” feeling, that is sensual intuition. If Gorobei hears a noise or feels a movement behind the door, this is being observant. Any following encounter now lets him know what was previously unknown.

The feelings that we are considering here do not stem from any preconceived thought, guessing, belief or perception. Instead, they tap into something that arises from nothing particular and allows us to know what is unknowable. Spiritual intuition is not a conscious act: Without knowing why, we just act.

We are all capable of this if we do not let our heads impose logic, reason and sensibility. The next time that feeling comes upon you, do not dismiss it. Pay attention.