These are not purely Zen ideas: Modern Western philosophers have often come to quite similar conclusions. In particular, I have freely borrowed from the many ideas of Ludwig Wittgenstein. In no way do I mean to dismiss the ideas of the traditional Western philosophers. They worked with what they had in the milieu they were born into. While they may have tended to overgeneralize their findings, they nonetheless advanced our understanding of our world. Their work also led directly to symbolic logic, and thus to the computer you are presumably using to read this.
This technique of looking at concepts, abstract ideas, etc. as simply words, at least at first, may strike some as simplistic or counterproductive. On the other hand, it can often prevent us from going off on a linguistic debate when we really do not know what we are asking in the first place. Language is literally human behavior, but there is no firm line between language behavior and non-language behavior. In ordinary language this does not trouble us. When ordinary language is working smoothly, I say something and you know what I mean. My body goes through a dynamic flow which stimulates your body's receptors and brain, which influences your flow.
It is the nature of language to break things up into parts. We divide language behavior from non-language behavior. We consider the combined flowing system above as being made up of two individuals communicating. We talk about the chair and the floor, though there is no fundamental reason to partition the world that way. For example, we could have a word for the floor and the chair legs, say fleg, and a word for the seat and back of the chair, say sback. We could then talk quite nicely about the fleg and the sback. We partition the world with words the way we do because that is the way we learned to, and because it is or was useful to do so. Fleg may be a perfectly good word, but it is not a very useful one.
We may be tempted to overgeneralize from the above examples, and say that language breaks the world up into parts labeled with nouns, and describes their actions and interactions with verbs. This works nicely with the chair and the floor, and even with the fleg. "I pick up the chair." "Bill put the chair on the floor." If I ask "What is a chair?" you can describe the physical properties of a chair and how a chair is used. But what about if I say, "Give me the time," or if I ask "What is time?" Now we are tempted to assume that the universe behaves according to the surface grammar of our evolved primate language, and to assume there is some "thing" corresponding to the noun time. We return to this point in the next section.
In this section we have been talking about ordinary, everyday language. The discussion also applies to the technical languages that develop in any specialized field. There are also formalized languages, and computer languages, which are analogous to a rule-driven game like chess. These "languages" tend to be defined bottom-up from component parts, and thus they are purposely more amenable to piecewise analysis. On a practical level, the gains in precision from a formal language are offset by losses in descriptive power. Note that even formal languages correspond to behavior. You cannot really separate symbolic logic from the logicians scratching symbols on pieces of paper. The important thing is to look to how language is used in practice, and the context it is used in.
This is not to say such a way of thinking may not be useful. It may be a very efficient tool of thought to introduce this fictitious "thing" that is being measured. One could even assert that any "thing" at all is just this type of construct, whether the thing is a chair or a radio wave. The point to keep in mind is that we have created it and defined it, and however useful it is it need not correspond to anything at all in the universe.
In a similar vein, what is gravity? If someone asks, "Why do things fall?" I may answer "Gravity." But have I really told him anything? Things fall because they fall. The most honest answer to the question is that we cannot know why. (But many people are comforted to hear the word gravity -- it sets their mind at ease.)
Gravity is a word and symbol we use in describing how objects behave. Whether or not we assume there is some true "thing" called gravity that we are measuring makes no difference. I may even talk about spacetime bending and describe how gravity interacts with these other things called time and space. But in the end we are just acting as storytellers, though in the best sense of the word. Some of our current myths may be more practical -- in our current world -- than some of the ancient ones, and they may offer precise predictions. But we are really not different from ancient peoples sitting around campfires at night.
A common Zen meditation practice is called shikan-taza. This is traditionally a form of sitting meditation, with the back held straight, etc., though the technique can be also be carried through to walking meditation and to your daily life. Unlike some other meditation techniques that use counting the breaths or koans, in shikan-taza the mind is focused on pure awareness of the body, hara, and surroundings. Our normal consciousness consists of darting thoughts, and ongoing internal speech and dialogue. So even our internal, private selves are driven by the flow of language -- but often we become snared by its limitations and contradictions. In shikan-taza the inner voice is silenced. When you notice that the inner voice has started up again you calmly quiet it and keep sitting. In this way, with practice, you can come to experience the world directly, without it being filtered through the veil of language.
It is this direct experience that is the hallmark of Zen Buddhism. At first you may have to take what the Buddha or the Patriarchs taught on faith. When you directly experience it, though, it is yours. You see that no one was deceiving you or handing you a line. It is as if someone told you it was raining outside, and then pointed you to a window. When you look out the window and see the rain you know it is raining. Then even if everyone else in the room says it is sunny outside with clear skies, you can look out the window to see for yourself. Sometimes I think this realism, and the refusal to disavow what is directly known to be true, has contributed to persecutions of Buddhists through the centuries. Buddhists are generally peaceful people, but societies unfortunately tend to go through periods where beliefs are imposed by force, and where the words do not match the reality.
Let us consider another koan pointing to the nature of language. This is case 8 from the Mumonkan, Keichu Makes Carts [translation by Zenkei Shibayama]:
Master Gettan said to a monk: "Keichu made a cart whose wheels had a hundred spokes. Take both front and rear parts away and remove the axle: then what will it be?"What will it be? We can watch the cart being disassembled. The front part is taken away, then the back part, and finally the axle. What is the problem? When does the confusion arise? Where has the cart gone? This is similar to an old question: If I have an ax, and I first replace the head and then replace the handle, is it the same ax? This could be just an amusing puzzle, but consider it as a Zen question. Everyone knows what has transpired, where does the problem arise? After you have lived for a year, consuming many pounds of food and water, you have replaced most of your original substance. Are you the same person now? Who are you?
I had a dream
for just a moment
Now I'm here
the song plays on