The Raft Gets You There, But Don't Carry It On Your Back

Language, Zen, and the Limitations of Words: A Deeper Understanding

In the latest episode of "The World Through Zen Eyes," hosts MyongAhn Sunim and Dr. Ruben Lambert tackle one of Buddhism's most challenging paradoxes: the relationship between language and Zen practice. This recurring question highlights a fundamental tension within spiritual practice—how can we use words to describe that which transcends verbal expression?

Words serve as tools, not territory. As the hosts explain, language functions much like a map guiding us toward an experience, but the map itself is not the experience. This distinction becomes critically important in meditation practice. When we attempt to categorize, name, or intellectualize our meditative experiences, we actually disrupt the very experiences we're trying to understand. The moment we think, "Ah, this is that special state I read about," we've already stepped out of direct experience and into conceptual thinking.

Dr. Lambert shares a powerful metaphor about visiting mountain peaks and experiencing what he calls a "deafening silence." The paradoxical nature of this description—something being both silent yet somehow present and overwhelming—demonstrates precisely how language falls short. Words like "sublime," "transcendent," and "awe-inspiring" make feeble attempts at capturing experiences that exist beyond linguistic boundaries.

The hosts explain that this limitation of language isn't about rejecting communication altogether. Rather, it's about recognizing when words serve us and when they become obstacles. Within the Zen tradition, the warning about language's inadequacy specifically refers to those profound spiritual experiences that exist beyond conceptual thinking—not everyday communication. After all, as one host points out, even saying "language cannot capture this" is itself using language.

A particularly illuminating metaphor emerges when they discuss the Buddha's teaching about a raft. We build a raft with great effort to cross a river, but once we reach the other shore, we don't carry the raft on our backs as we continue our journey. Similarly, teachings and words serve as vehicles to reach understanding, but ultimately, they must be left behind. This doesn't devalue the raft—it simply recognizes its specific purpose and limitations.

The discussion extends to psychological territory, exploring how fixed ideas (referred to as "gojong kwanyeom") can hijack our perception. These rigid thought patterns function like barriers, preventing us from fully experiencing the present moment. Dr. Lambert shares an anecdote about his son being unable to cross a rug where he had previously seen a beetle—a perfect metaphor for how our minds become trapped by past experiences, unable to see that present circumstances differ.

Perhaps most importantly, the hosts emphasize that Zen isn't about endless philosophical debate. They describe how practitioners can become trapped in circular discussions about concepts like sudden versus gradual enlightenment, missing the point that direct experience trumps conceptual understanding every time. It's like two people debating whether water in a cup is hot or cold without ever tasting it—10,000 years of discussion can never replace the immediate knowledge that comes from direct experience.

The episode concludes with a gentle reminder that Buddhism isn't pessimistic despite its focus on suffering. Rather, it provides practical tools for addressing life's challenges—just as windshield wipers clear rain to improve visibility. The hosts invite listeners to engage in active dialogue rather than passive consumption, emphasizing that Zen is a living tradition that thrives through conversation and direct experience rather than rigid adherence to concepts.