The Prodigy and the Grand Master

Being half-Japanese American for me has meant a complicated relationship with Japan. I grew up exposed to Japanese culture through the lens of one person, my mother. I've visited Japan and have spent a bit of time there, so I've also had the chance to learn parts of the culture that appeal to me from family and every day lived experience there. Living in the US, I always feel unsure how to tease Japanese culture out of the Western fascination with Japan. I've never identified as "otaku," in fact in Japan it is a pejorative, not a hip counter culture.

Zen Buddhism is a staple of Western pop culture. Oddly enough, Japanese people often aren't familiar with the word Zen. They'll be like, "Huh? Oh like Zazen meditation, ok!" This is partly because Zen Buddhism is not the dominant form of Buddhism in Japan. Zen is wide spread and practiced across Asia, but every day Japanese people practice Shin Buddhism. This discovery was a bit of a revelation to me, and I feel much more comfortable eschewing the West-favored perspective of Zen, studying Shin instead.

With that the context there, I have some thoughts on Shin Buddhism in TTRPGs since that's where my brain takes everything.

In the book Dharma Breeze, Nobuo Haneda tells a parable of a young prodigy who visited Beethoven's house on a guided tour. At the house was Beethoven's old piano, which guests were allowed to play as part of the tour. So, the prodigy sat down and played an incredible performance, eager at the chance to play her hero's piano. When she finished playing, the rest of the tour group gave an enthusiastic round of applause. The next tour group came through, and in this group was a grand master piano player of world renowned fame. He sat down at the piano and caressed the keys but did not play a note. The prodigy watched him for a while, excited to hear him play, but he did not play. The prodigy grew frustrated and approached him, asking him if he would play. The grand master replied that he dared not, and that nothing he could play would approach the greatness of Beethoven's hands that had graced this piano. 

The meaning of this parable might seem to be that the prodigy is foolish. Instead the story is meant to show that youth is and should be eager to try everything, while spiritual mastery comes from simplicity and humility.

In Shin Buddhism, there is a single Buddha that is worshipped, Amida Buddha. There are many Buddhas, but it is taught that you should focus on the one, rather than the many Buddhas that exist in history. Even Amida Buddha sought to learn from as many masters as there are grains of sand in the Ganges River, but the teaching of Shin Buddhism is to focus solely on Amida. This is because of the need for humility in spiritual enlightenment. To focus on many is to indulge in hubris. There are many Dharma gates (practices of Buddhism), but at some point you need to choose and pass through one. The various Dharmas are like boats moored on a river. You can stand on the shore appreciating all of them, but you have to board one if you want to cross the river.

This idea applies to my personal experience with TTRPGs. There are many TTRPGs, different styles of play, and it is good to try many. But if you want to become skillful and grow personally, it is good to pick one approach and focus on it. Now I should be clear, this is not the stance of all of Buddhism, just Shin Buddism (hence the lengthy preamble). In fact other practices believe you should do the opposite. 

I do play a lot of types of games, I am curious and excited for all of the ideas creative game designers have and want to experience them. But at the same time, I do feel that I am always learning a little more about my preferred play style, and I am slowly honing my skills to create specific experiences I and my group want to have. I think this is the appeal of the "fantasy heartbreaker", the million OSR retroclones with slightly different rules and procedures, the seemingly never ending ranks of game designers interested in making their own systems, and the ravenously hungry fanbase interested in buying new games. It's all an attempt to chase that specific, idiosyncratic play experience that sits on the tip of each of our tongues.