This is the fifth in a series of blog posts aimed at capturing my experience following the New York Zen Center for Contemplative Care’s 90 Day Commit-to-Sit challenge. Each day, I have been sent an email that contains an excerpt from Maezumi’s Appreciate Your Life with a brief reflection afterwards. My intention is to share my experience each week to foster discussion, illuminate the process of working on a practice, and reflecting on an excerpt that stuck with me from the week.
There was something redeeming about opening my email a couple of days ago and seeing that I had made it to Day 30. One of the reasons that I decided to write these blog posts was to create some accountability for myself, and to semi-publicly proclaim that I was going to actually follow through on a 90-day commitment. As I write this, I sit with 32 days (having missed a total of 2) of regular meditation under my belt. As these blogs hopefully convey, it has been a learning experience. Each week brings new insights, new obstacles, new perspectives on the way my mind works and has allowed me to connect and speak to a community of people who also have an interest in meditation.
One of the things I have been exploring through this process is the idea that meditation “solves” some of the problems that we have in life. These can manifest as stress, anxiety, bills, loss, grudges, worries, fears and a whole host of other unpleasant emotions. When you dive into the literature on Zen meditation, however, it becomes clear that this is not the intent of developing a practice. Meditation is not an escape, but a return. A return from the thoughts listed above, back to the body, the breath, the presence of now. As Meazumi puts it:
“We have a practice know as the paramitas. Paramita means "to have reached the other shore." Dogen Zenji says, "The other shore is already reached." In other words, the meaning of reaching the other shore is to realize that this shore is the other shore. This life is the unsurpassable, realized life. There is no gap.
So if there is purpose to our practice, it is to realize that this shore and the other shore are the same. The purpose is to close the gap, to realize that there is just one shore, there is just one life. To reach is extra. Until you realize that this shore where you stand, this life that you are living, and the other shore, the life of the buddhas, are the same shore, you cannot appreciate your life to the fullest.”
As I see it, Maezumi is reminding us that when we sit, that sometimes we can get caught reaching for a better version of us. A version that doesn’t worry, or fear, or love too deeply, or have the aches and pains of living.
A version detached from suffering.
In this same excerpt, he brings our attention the idea that reaching for the other shore allows us to convince ourselves that there is another shore. That there is something outside of us that we can get to that will solve our issues. When I sit to solve the problem of interpersonal strife or work stress, I am reinforcing the idea that I am that stress, that thoughts are things to be solved. That they can be escaped by receding into practice.
I have come to realise that this is not the case. That as Maezumi points out, I was (and am) already that other version of me. I am that version of me because there is no other shore, and as such no other me. The grass isn’t greener on the other side because the other side is make-believe. The stress we try to escape in practice is a pattern of thoughts that you can not get away from, because things that are not real can follow you anywhere. Instead, we turn to those things and sit with them. We look at them and try to internalize the thought there is no other shore, and in doing this, we sit with who we are here-and-now.
To be clear, I am not saying that there are not real problems and concerns that we face in our lives. There can be many, and they may pose real risks and hardship. However, the thinking portion of these problems exist only in the space between the neurons and atoms of our mind. The anxiety of returning to work tomorrow steals from me the option of being here right now, fingers on keys, contemplating mindfulness and enjoying the view from my living room window. There is no meditating practice that will banish my obligation from work. There is, however, a practice that will “close the gap” between the ideal me, who doesn’t worry, and the experiencing me, who is here, enjoying my afternoon.
My goal moving into this next week is remind myself that there is no other shore. That this is the moment I exist in, and that it is my sitting practice that can bring me back to that. I do not sit to be another version of me, I sit to actualize that I am (and that is all there is).
This week, I encourage you too take some time to look at where you might be reaching in your own life. How much of your time is thinking about who you should be or could be. What would happen if you looked around to realize that you have everything you need in this moment? That you were already standing on the other shore?
Be well, friends.