As some readers of the Sun may know, I have led a Zen sitting group here in Alfred, New York for the past nine years. Every Sunday evening at 7:30, we meet in the Miller Performing Arts Center to practice seated and walking meditation. Over the past decade, our participants have included students, faculty, and members of the wider community.
One evening, a member of our group arrived early, looking impatient to begin. “Well,” said he, rubbing his hands together, “let’s get meditating!”
As it turned out, Monica Lewinsky was to be interviewed by Barbara Walters at 9:00, and he didn’t want to miss a word. Never mind that meditation is supposed to be about “stopping and looking,” or at least about slowing down.
What brought him to the sitting in the first place, one might inquire. And what has brought so many people, young and old, to our sessions over the years?
I suspect that some have come out of loneliness, or curiosity, or a desire to find a deeper meaning in their lives. But the root motive is often anxiety, which the Zen master Thich Nhat Hanh has called the endemic illness of Western culture. Anxiety taxes our bodies and erodes our spirits. Anxiety also drives us into the future, even as we fear it. Let’s get cracking. Let’s get meditating.
Zen meditation is not a panacea for anxiety, much less a cure. But it can provide an antidote, a countervailing force in our busy-busy lives. When we practice zazen, or seated meditation, we sit as still and upright as we can, doing nothing but following the flow of our breath and paying attention to whatever is occurring, within and without. We note our heartbeats, the tensions in our bodies, the whirring of a fan, the eruption of a voice down the hall. We note a passing thought, an evanescent memory. And we observe those impulses that urge us to keep moving—to get meditating—and hurl us into the future. When we have sat for awhile, our swirling thoughts began to settle, and we may experience an uncommon clarity, an unwonted concentration. As we stop trying to control our environment, our surroundings present themselves with greater vivacity. We feel more alive as well as more relaxed.
For the reduction of stress I know of no better means than Zen meditation, and I would urge anyone suffering from anxiety to make a habit of sitting quietly, following the breath, for at least ten minutes a day. But it would be a mistake to think of Zen practice as merely a stress-reduction technique or a mode of self-improvement. Nor is it a way of withdrawing from the world. On the contrary, Zen meditation, regularly practiced, teaches us to appreciate our lives, just as they are, and it deepens our connection with other people.
I intend to say more about these matters in future columns. In the meantime, let’s get meditating.
