howdy friend!
if you’re reading this, you’ve tuned in to my first post in 3 weeks and i have so much to share! but for the sake of us living less online and more outdoors, let’s keep it simple.
today is my 6th day at Sogenji, a Rinzai Zen monastery in Okayama, Japan.
as i write, bamboo rustles nearby, men speak in Japanse beyond a short wall, golden sun shines through a green canopy, and metal chimes tinkle in the wind. soon, we meditate again, from 5 to 9pm. but our day starts long before:
Sogenji
we wake at 3:30am (4:30 on lucky days such as this one, when the moon is still bright in the sky. i look at the stars when i walk out of the zendo in my first moments, breath in the cold morning air, and slide the door closed behind me.
when i first arrived, the pace and intensity was overwhelming. i had never sat longer than 40 minutes in meditation, much less four hours. yet already i find myself adapting.
i notice now that my first 24 hours were scented with anxiety and fear - fear of messing up, breaking rules, and not being up for the challenge that i'd taken on - but in the span of a few short days, these worries are melting away. i can live here without knowing what comes next, and trust myself and my peers to respond. this way of life and training is starting to sink deeper.
the first few sits were monumentally long by my standards, marked by a storm of bubbling thoughts which turned into an awareness of pain and an immense desire to shift position, to end and change -- but my stubbornness kept me still. and in the silence of the zendo, birdcalls and wind drifting in from outside, perched on cushions and tatami mats, i follow my breath.
long, slow, exhale from my tandem - natural, full inhale back.
again. again. again.
this concentration is the only way for me to get through the sittings - indeed, it is the whole of the zazen - but i find it shifting my perspective faster than i could have thought possible. in the first night, i let my worries drop back down when they rise. i let the act of breathing fill me - and after 3 years of straining, striving, pushing to be more, do more, achieve more - i am made full by the simple act of breathing.
a question rises inside me: "am i letting myself be as happy as i can be?"
the answer comes quickly: "no" is resounding.
i keep breathing.
exhale. inhale. again.
memories rise and surface, glimpses across my life.
i see family, friends, adventures, and people i've lost. i let them go and return to the present best i can. my legs are burning. i've sat wrong, and weight lies on my feet. the discomfort ebbs and flows, sometimes a siren, others a backdrop. when the call for kinhin comes, we stand and begin to walk - a line around the zendo, several laps in total.
i've never appreciate walking so much. i savor every step.
towards the end of the evening, a call comes for a new ceremony. we rise, grab ceramic cups on a ledge above our heads, and wait to receive tea (accompanied by some form of cookie).
it is not a long, drawn out thing — but again, i savor every moment, with all my senses active. shortly after, the evening comes to an end.
i make my bed in the zendo, chat with the others, and the lights go off.
then we rise for another day.
yesterday, i broke down in tears during zazen.
once again, i touched on my relationship with fear and failure, humiliation and mistakes, harshness and suffering.
i’ve held a deep fear of mistakes and failure my whole life.
and as i’m sitting here, i realize the extent to which i’ve made love for myself conditional.
it shatters me.
my family has shown me love my whole life — but it has taken this moment to see how much suffering i cause myself needlessly.
in the tears, the words of the Zen sutras come back to me, and i know that i am all that i need to be, here in the now.
and so i focus on my core and continue to breathe.
the training i do now is for me and all beings.
and i resolve to remember love for myself, to train the kindness of my heart, to keep opening up, a little bit more each day.
with love,
sam
Deep and beautiful. I am so happy for you, Sam.
Papadon
Love it, Sam. Bless your journey, every step.