Experiences on the Zen Path
What Is Zen?
The Chinese character for “Zen” is made up of two parts: “simple” and “to show.” A first approximation of the practice, then, is “showing simplicity.” It cannot be grasped through thinking, since it is not a philosophy or an ideology but a practice — without any thought of benefit or success. Showing simplicity: sitting on a cushion or a small bench, counting the breath, following the breath with attention, or simply letting everything be as it is — this is the practice of Zen. Adding nothing to whatever one is doing, not even a “Zen mind,” since no such thing exists.
The Beginning at Hosshinji
Thirty years ago, I came into contact with Zen for the first time, at a Sesshin led by the respected master Harada Sekkei Roshi from Japan. I went on meditating cheerfully, including at Vipassana retreats, without ever feeling that I had truly made a beginning. That real beginning came only ten years later, when I spent a week for the first time at the Japanese monastery Hosshinji, where Harada Roshi has been abbot and Zen master for more than fifty years. Since then I have been there ten times and have been allowed to share in the life of the nuns and monks, spending a great deal of time on my cushion, working hard, and sweeping leaves around the monastery grounds from five in the morning.
Forgetting Zen
At the end of our stay at the monastery, Harada Sekkei Roshi always sent us “Westerners” off with the same advice: to forget Zen completely. Once back home, we were to devote ourselves entirely to whatever task was in front of us and lose ourselves in it completely. In addition, he recommended that we set aside a short period each day, ideally always at the same time, to devote to Za — between twenty and forty minutes, depending on what was possible.
No Rituals Are Needed
Over many years I have returned again and again to monastic life and come to value the strict rhythm of its days, where everything becomes practice — whether eating, working, sitting, resting, talking, or reciting the sutras. Precisely for this reason, I believe we should not import monastic life or monastic rituals into our everyday lives. It is already present in our culture and in the habits of our ordinary circumstances. Neither monastic robes nor monastic rituals are needed to practise Zen in our own surroundings and daily life. At the same time, I am aware that this is exactly what draws many people in: the exoticism, and the feeling that comes with it of doing something different.
What Is Needed?
A quiet place where one can sit undisturbed; a sitting mat and a meditation cushion or bench, or even a chair, are enough to practise. A group of like-minded people who want to walk the same path, and someone familiar with the path whom one can ask about the Dharma, so as not to set off in a completely wrong direction.
Ulrike Serak Shihan, 7th Dan Aikikai