What Is Zen?
Obaku said, “I do not say that there is no Zen, but that there is no Zen teacher.”
—Blue Cliff Record, case 11
Zen this, Zen that. You can read a lot of things about Zen and none of them will be accurate. Even this.
I’ve just written an entire book about motherhood, yet when I have to write an introductory page or two about Zen, I stutter and gasp. When I told my Zen teacher how reluctant I was to write this part, he said something Zen-like. He said, “Keep it simple.”
As for the word zen, it is a Japanese word for a Chinese word for a Sanskrit word that means meditation. In Zen practice, meditation is “the Way.” Zen Buddhism, then, means “the Way of the Buddha.” The Way of the Buddha is not secretive, exotic, or esoteric. It is not distant or dead. It is exactly what you see in the image of Buddha that still abounds today: a human being sitting still.
Zen practitioners do what Buddha did, sit quietly still, to see what Buddha saw—the truth of our existence—and thereby end confusion, discontent, pain, and suffering. It sounds simple, and it is. It is just not easy.
Zen originated in India with Buddha’s successors. An Indian meditation master named Bodhidharma brought it to China in the sixth century. It took root in the Tang dynasty (618–907), a period now called the golden age of Zen. Many of the teaching stories, or koans, featured at the beginning of each chapter come from this era. These stories, or cases, recount spontaneous dialogues between students and enlightened masters. They were compiled during the Song dynasty (960–1279) into several written collections still used every day in classical Zen training.
In the twelfth century Zen was carried to Japan, where it was invigorated in the teaching of Dogen Zenji (1200–1253), whose penetrating words—vital and relevant—also appear at the beginning of many of the chapters you’ll read here.
As I stumbled forward in the writing of this book, caught up in the personal and picayune details of baby care, I was continually amazed by the practical guidance in these ancient words. But let me save you a step. Do not attempt to understand or interpret them. Do not think about them at all.
Here in the West, and most certainly for me, Zen is real. But much of what you hear and see about Zen is not. I am alternately amused and annoyed by the proliferation of the term Zen-like to describe every kind of commodity, from furniture to fashion to face cream. Zen is not like anything else. Zen is the direct realization, the incomparable experience of what is. Zen is motherhood. And you already know that motherhood is not like anything else.
Zen is as alive as your hands holding this book, as vivid as your sight perceiving each word. Zen is your life, fully experienced. And yes, it is the Way of the Buddha.