Yesterday the Times ran a very interesting piece in the Sunday Magazine about an accomplished American Zen master whose childhood neglect and abuse finally caught up with him. His therapist was a psychoanalyst with deep ties to Zen practice, and who suggested that in this case the Zen practice was an escape from his difficulties, not a confrontation of them. It is an excellent case study of both the limits of Zen practice in western culture and the potentials for synthesizing eastern and western modes of insight.
"You need a self to lose the self" is a very important bit of advice. In the Times' article, Mitsunen, the Zen Master, seems to have been running away from his own core experience of self, for fear of what is "really" there. Zen came relatively easy to him, and off he went, into the virtuoso practice, in full avoidance mode.
I think of my own practice. It is so choppy, so up and down, that sometimes it seems hardly a practice at all. But there is no doubt that it has grounded me. Yesterday, I had quite a bit of time alone in the woods and fields, and I felt I was able to just be there, slow down the chatter, and enjoy the frog music, the waves of heat, the earthsmells, the little creek. If that is all I ever get out of this discipline, it is enough.
One reason why I rarely speak to my students of "no self" is that teenagers too easily slide into nihilism. They have so little experience, or what experience they do have thoroughly defines them, that the self is both rigid and underformed. Nor are they able to focus effectively from the point of view of "watching the watcher" or other such stances one can take during meditation. That is likely a function of development.
Rather, I usually just note that the nature of things is constant change. Some kids pick up on the implications of this for the self. Others just use it to get through tough moments. To emphasize no-self, is I think, a grave mistake at this age. At least in our culture.
"You need a self to lose the self" is a very important bit of advice. In the Times' article, Mitsunen, the Zen Master, seems to have been running away from his own core experience of self, for fear of what is "really" there. Zen came relatively easy to him, and off he went, into the virtuoso practice, in full avoidance mode.
I think of my own practice. It is so choppy, so up and down, that sometimes it seems hardly a practice at all. But there is no doubt that it has grounded me. Yesterday, I had quite a bit of time alone in the woods and fields, and I felt I was able to just be there, slow down the chatter, and enjoy the frog music, the waves of heat, the earthsmells, the little creek. If that is all I ever get out of this discipline, it is enough.
One reason why I rarely speak to my students of "no self" is that teenagers too easily slide into nihilism. They have so little experience, or what experience they do have thoroughly defines them, that the self is both rigid and underformed. Nor are they able to focus effectively from the point of view of "watching the watcher" or other such stances one can take during meditation. That is likely a function of development.
Rather, I usually just note that the nature of things is constant change. Some kids pick up on the implications of this for the self. Others just use it to get through tough moments. To emphasize no-self, is I think, a grave mistake at this age. At least in our culture.
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