zen, spring, and newish beginnings

I made the decision last week to end my Tibetan yoga apprenticeship and instead take on additional meditation practice, this time under Zen tutelage. I continue to meditate every day, but this morning began what I hope to be a weekly practice with a Zen sangha here in town. The decision has been a long time coming because of my attachment to Tibetan Buddhism and all things Tibetan. I attended Tibetan yoga classes for about six months, and although I benefited quite a lot from them, they were no replacement for meditation practice with a sangha.

I studied Zen a little bit as part of my Eastern Religions minor. That was a long time ago, and most of the details have dissolved from my memory into the ether. I realize now that in the years since then, I've been holding on to a few details and a bundle of preconceptions about Zen without ever having practiced Zen or known any Zen practitioners. Over at 108 Days [the Remix], there are at least two people who identify as Zen Buddhists, and in the past few weeks I've come to have a different approach to Zen, much because of them. I'm very grateful for that.

Where I live, there is neither Tibetan nor Theravadan sangha. If there had been either, I probably wouldn't have been at the dojo this morning. I love the complementarity of Theravadan meditation to my personality: I am somewhat ritualistic, their approach involves very little ritual and few implements; I usually approach things from an intellectual standpoint, they prioritize the meditative experience without a lot of philosophy. I have some experience with Theravada, having known practitioners and attended teachings in the past.

My studies over the past decade or so, though, have largely been in the Tibetan tradition. There is a Tibetan (Kagyu) temple about an hour away from here (Temple des Mille Bouddhas), and a branch group affiliated with the temple practices about a half hour away. But getting even that far on a regular basis is complicated for me. I have been to the temple twice, and may well go back, but certainly not weekly.

Today at the dojo, I was surprised and impressed for a number of reasons. First of all, no one was there but the teacher and one other practitioner. There is a sesshin on this weekend in Lyon, the teacher told me, and most of the sangha are there. I was quite happy to have my first experience of the dojo today, when the teacher had plenty of time to answer my questions and discuss his school of Buddhism (Soto Zen) in comparison to others. Second, there is quite an extensive ritual to follow before and after sitting, involving plenty of gasho, or bowing with the hands in prayer position. We bowed to the room, to the Buddha, to the zafu, and to the wall (the third surprise). I was taught that if the need to move ever arose during meditation, a bow was in order both before and after moving, to excuse oneself in a sense for disturbing the peace. Third, we meditated facing the wall, quite close to it in fact. The zabutons were all flush against the wall, which puts the meditators' eyes about 50cm away. The altar was near the middle of the room.

The teacher corrected my posture. In Tibetan Buddhism (and as far as I know, in Theravadan Buddhism), teachers give tips about posture, and maybe even talks about posture, but it is not the focus of meditation. In Zen, as I was taught today, correct posture is a major focus for meditation. Posture is enlightenment. I probably made many mistakes during the rituals at the beginning and at the end of the session, despite having just been told how to proceed, but my posture is the only thing the teacher thought necessary to correct.

The mind's events during meditation are not to be paid much mind, if I understand correctly. The attention can rest on the breath or on the posture, and thoughts can come and go but not be followed. There should be no fixation on a goal of any kind; there should be just sitting (or just walking). This is not very different from meditation as I know it, apart from the stronger emphasis on posture and the weaker emphasis on mind-emptying. Of course, as with any Buddhist practice, the core experience is that of the moment, that of resting in what is here, now.

When I got home, I got on with some work I had to do on my bike. I've been riding it more now that spring is here and it was in need of a tuneup. I also had a few things to install. I tightened the brakes, pumped the tires, put in a water bottle cage and installed a child's seat for my daughter. It wasn't until I was partway into this work that the title of Robert Pirsig's ingenious novel came to mind, and I realized I was living the experience of Zen and the Art of Bicycle Maintenance as my mind merged with the work and the ritual of the work. If you haven't yet, I highly recommend reading Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance. It became my favourite book instantly when I read it 15 years ago, and it remains near if not at the very top of my list of favourites, to this day.

I'm very happy with the decision I made. It feels good to meditate with others, and I'm glad to be learning about Zen from an experiential perspective. I have missed the sangha dearly, and although my affection for the Palyul sangha members I know in Ottawa is still very strong, it's not only their personal friendship or our personal connections that I miss, it's the spiritual community that we form together. That wider notion of sangha includes the Zen community I have found here, as well as all other practitioners in all schools around the world, and I am so happy to be an active part of it again.