Zazen
Summary
Zazen is the practice of seated meditation central to Zen Buddhism, understood not as a technique applied to the mind but as the embodied actualization of the universal self. The word designates wholeheartedly sitting in the middle of one’s life, with great clarity and practicality, while opening up a wide worldview (Uchiyama, Kōshō, 2004). Its signature formulation, drawn from Dōgen Zenji’s teaching and developed by Kōdō Sawaki Roshi and his disciple Kōshō Uchiyama Roshi, is shikantaza (“just sitting”), a practice with no objective outside itself, no mark to hit, and no improvement to be tracked. Uchiyama described zazen as “the highest form of human culture,” arguing that while scientific and technological developments have made human life more comfortable and complicated, they have not made it spiritually wiser (Uchiyama, Kōshō, 2004). Zazen is the self doing itself by itself: the resolution of existential hollowness through the direct enactment of one’s own true nature, rather than through any search conducted in the external world.
What Zazen Is and Is Not
To understand zazen requires first clearing away common misapprehensions. Uchiyama distinguished sharply between bonpu zen (utilitarian Zen practiced for self-improvement) and unconditional zazen practiced without any objectives, consistently emphasizing the latter as authentic practice (Uchiyama, Kōshō, 2004). The distinction matters because the two share only an outward resemblance. Seeking enlightenment (satori) as a goal during zazen is described as fundamentally misguided: zazen is a giving up of egotistical evaluations of the self and entrusting life to the power of zazen as embodied in the fourth Buddhist seal, that all things are as they are (Uchiyama, Kōshō, 2004). The Mahayana lineage teaches that authentic zazen never aims at artificially creating a new self, decreasing delusion, gaining mystical experience, or obtaining enlightenment; it is always the whole self just truly being the whole self, life truly being life (Uchiyama, Kōshō, 2004).
Zazen was never intended as a means of disciplining the mind or of becoming physically healthier; for zazen to function as religion, ego-centered thinking that clings to body and mind must be given up (Uchiyama, Kōshō, 2004). Nagarjuna, quoted by Dōgen, distinguished authentic Buddha-and-bodhisattva zazen from non-Buddhist zazen flavored with profit and from Hinayana zazen aimed at extinguishing desires to reach nirvana (Uchiyama, Kōshō, 2004). Uchiyama also catalogued six degenerate types (hell-realm zen, insatiable-spirit zen, animal zen, fighting-spirit zen, humanistic zen, and heavenly-being zen) to mark the distance between goal-driven sitting and genuine practice (Uchiyama, Kōshō, 2004).
Practice at Antaiji, the temple where Uchiyama taught for many years, had no “bite” in this sense: people needed to practice purely for the sake of practice, without expectation of reward (Uchiyama, Kōshō, 2004). The foundation of Zen understanding, he argued, must come from actually doing the practice rather than from intellectual study alone (Uchiyama, Kōshō, 2004).
Opening the Hand of Thought
The phrase “opening the hand of thought” names the original Buddhist practice of not grasping and clinging, as it occurs in each present moment in the mind (Uchiyama, Kōshō, 2004). The third Buddhist seal, shohō muga (that all things lack substantial independent existence), provides the doctrinal ground for this gesture: since nothing is substantial by itself just as it is, there is nothing to hold on to, and the only thing to do is to let go of all that comes into one’s head (Uchiyama, Kōshō, 2004). Uchiyama expressed this practical consequence as shikantaza, literally “just sitting” but more broadly meaning to put one’s energy into settling everything in one’s world here and now, where one really lives, operating from the most fundamental attitude that “everything I encounter is my life” (Uchiyama, Kōshō, 2004). When we think of something, we grasp it with our minds; if we open the hand of thought, it drops away. Uchiyama identified this gesture with Dōgen Zenji’s famous phrase shinjin datsuraku, “dropping off body and mind,” and traced it to the koan “no gaining, no knowing” attributed to Shitou Xiqian, expressing the attitude of refraining from all fabrication (Uchiyama, Kōshō, 2004).
In zazen, all different kinds of thoughts come up, stay for a while, and disappear. The practitioner lets them come up and lets them go away, neither controlling the mind nor preventing thoughts from arising, neither grasping nor chasing after them (Uchiyama, Kōshō, 2004). Uchiyama compared this to clouds in a clear sky: the zazen practitioner maintains an upright, immovable posture regardless of mental conditions, trusting that above the clouds of thoughts, Buddha’s wisdom and compassion shine like the sun (Uchiyama, Kōshō, 2004). The longer one practices opening the hand of thought, the clearer it becomes that “self” is not the same as “thought,” and that the true self is not something made up in one’s head (Uchiyama, Kōshō, 2004).
Thoughts as Secretions and Scenery
One of Uchiyama’s most useful pedagogical framings is that thoughts are like secretions: mental activity that simply arises, and which must be reflected upon rather than acted upon, since the self and its thoughts are relative and accidental (Uchiyama, Kōshō, 2004). This reframing dissolves the practitioner’s tendency to either suppress arising thoughts or identify with them completely. Zazen is described as sitting in the sphere of absolute peace of mind that is like the big sky in which the many clouds of thoughts come and go: no matter how much zazen is done, poor people do not become wealthy, and poverty does not become something easy to endure; but simultaneously, one is in absolute comfort like the unperturbed sky (Uchiyama, Kōshō, 2004).
Uchiyama described two sides to a zazen practitioner: one side is the personal self always being pulled to and fro by thoughts about desires, like clouds; the other is the self sitting in zazen, letting go of such thoughts, like the wide sky in which the clouds float (Uchiyama, Kōshō, 2004). In this framework, desires and cravings need not be hated or extinguished, since they are actually a manifestation of the life force. What is crucial is not being dragged around by them but seeing them as resting on the foundation of life, letting them be as they are without chasing after them (Uchiyama, Kōshō, 2004).
During shikantaza, both clear-minded zazen and thought-ridden zazen are simply conditions produced by changes in temperature, humidity, and circumstance. The essential thing is just to sit, aiming at zazen and waking up to zazen; in this just sitting, the various conditions going on in one’s head simply become the scenery of zazen (Uchiyama, Kōshō, 2004). The saying “gaining is delusion, losing is enlightenment” has practical value in this context: active participation in the loss of ego’s grip is described as the most effective way to break it (Uchiyama, Kōshō, 2004).
Posture and Environment
Uchiyama gave detailed attention to the physical conditions of practice. The ideal zazen environment should be quiet, neither too light nor too dark, climate-controlled, and neat and clean; a buddha statue, flowers, and incense can support sitting on a regular basis, with the buddha statue representing the tranquility of zazen (Uchiyama, Kōshō, 2004). Correct posture requires sitting on the front part of a zafu (cushion), with knees firmly on the zabuton, back straight, ears in line with shoulders, nose aligned with navel, chin pulled in, eyes open and slightly downcast, and hands held in the cosmic mudra (Uchiyama, Kōshō, 2004).
Uchiyama contrasted Rodin’s Thinker (hunched, shoulders drawn forward, chest compressed, posture of chasing after illusions) with the zazen posture in which everything is straight, blood circulates freely toward the abdomen, breath moves easily toward the tanden, congestion is alleviated, and the practitioner no longer needs to chase after fantasies and delusions (Uchiyama, Kōshō, 2004). Zazen is neither thinking nor sleeping; it is being full of life while aiming at holding a correct zazen posture. If one becomes sleepy, energy becomes dissipated and the body becomes limp; if one pursues thoughts, the posture becomes stiff. Zazen is neither limp and lifeless nor stiff; the posture must be full of life and energy (Uchiyama, Kōshō, 2004).
Uchiyama became a monk primarily as a practical means to do zazen: it was easier to sustain the practice within the monastic lifestyle, and he found that Buddhism cannot be understood without actually practicing it (Uchiyama, Kōshō, 2004). He refused to encourage people toward ordination for its own sake, accepting disciples only who wanted to be true practitioners rather than those seeking credentials (Uchiyama, Kōshō, 2004).
The Mental Attitude of Zazen: Kakusoku
Dōgen, following Yaoshan Weiyan, called the mental attitude of zazen “the thought of no thought,” meaning aiming at letting go of thoughts while doing zazen with flesh and bones (Uchiyama, Kōshō, 2004). Keizan Jōkin Zenji later coined the expression kakusoku, meaning being wide awake actually living out reality. This “waking up” is different from cognizing or perceiving: knowing and perceiving imply a dichotomy, a confrontation between the thing that knows and the thing that is known, which kakusoku dissolves (Uchiyama, Kōshō, 2004).
In practice, zazen consists of the continuous movement of drifting into thought or sleep and waking up to return to posture. The very power to wake up and return to the upright posture at any time is the reality of the life of zazen (Uchiyama, Kōshō, 2004). There is no mark to perceive as having been hit; if a person thinks their zazen is getting good, they are merely thinking their zazen is good and have actually separated from its reality (Uchiyama, Kōshō, 2004).
During zazen, one completely lets go of the self-consciousness of an individual self defined by what is outside; and it is right there that one wakes up to an all-inclusive self that is simultaneously personal and universal, the raw living experience of life prior to names (Uchiyama, Kōshō, 2004). This is the resolution Kōdō Sawaki Roshi pointed toward with his expression that “zazen is the self doing itself by itself”: the self living out the reality of universal self rather than drifting and seeking things outside (Uchiyama, Kōshō, 2004). Zazen is described as a sane way to live out the reality of life, not spirit or mind separated from the body and the world, but a true way of life, a practice of living out the fresh reality of life rather than being driven by thoughts alone or losing contact with raw life-experience through fantasies of past and future (Uchiyama, Kōshō, 2004).
Zazen as the actualization of the Middle Way is life as interdependence, enabling life to be life by letting it be. For this reason, self-observation of zazen’s effects is precisely what impairs it: the moment one begins observing whether one is calmer or more agitated, one misses the mark and goes off the track (Uchiyama, Kōshō, 2004). Genuine peace in zazen is not the cessation of life or escapism but the unfettered realization of life as life, like a clear mirror that simply reflects all images as they are, without anything sticking to it (Uchiyama, Kōshō, 2004).
Sesshin: Intensive Practice
The word sesshin means “to touch or listen to the mind” and consists of several days dedicated almost entirely to zazen. After Kōdō Sawaki Roshi’s death in 1965, Uchiyama held five-day sesshins at Antaiji every month with fifty-minute zazen periods (Uchiyama, Kōshō, 2004). These sesshins were characterized by absolute silence: no talking, no greetings, no socializing, no sutra chanting, and Uchiyama himself sat facing the wall alongside all other practitioners rather than watching over them from a position of authority (Uchiyama, Kōshō, 2004).
The five days of absolute silence exist to help everyone become their self that is nothing but universal self, without socializing or diverting attention to others; the uninterrupted silence makes the entire five-day period into one continuous zazen (Uchiyama, Kōshō, 2004). During sesshin, time is transcended when practitioners stop comparing one moment with another: time exists for us because we compare one moment with another, but when we no longer compare and just be the self which is nothing but self, the swiftness of time’s flow is transcended (Uchiyama, Kōshō, 2004).
Uchiyama argued that five-day sesshins cannot be completed through sheer willpower or endurance; one must throw away even ideas of pain and perseverance and become submerged in zazen as it is, as the self doing itself by itself. Only by sitting still and leaving everything up to the posture will time pass of its own accord (Uchiyama, Kōshō, 2004). He compared the ego’s habitual round of distraction to a lifelong exchange of one toy for another (from the nipple to cameras to sex to fame) and described doing zazen as actualizing the reality of life, the self which is only the self of the universe, without any playing with toys (Uchiyama, Kōshō, 2004).
The Squash Parable and Interconnection
Uchiyama frequently used a parable of arguing squashes to illustrate how zazen reveals the interconnection of beings. While the squashes were sitting zazen in the way their priest had taught them, their anger subsided and they settled down. The priest asked them to put their hands on top of their heads; when the squashes felt the vine attached there, they recognized that they had been arguing while actually all tied together and living just one life (Uchiyama, Kōshō, 2004). The parable encapsulates a central claim of the Sōtō tradition: that individual and universal self are not two separate things requiring reconciliation but have always been one, and zazen is the practice through which this becomes evident.
Sawaki Roshi described zazen as “the self selfing the self,” meaning that when one is born, one gives birth to one’s world as well, lives together with that world, and dies together with it. Rather than dancing on a stage that already exists and leaving when one dies, one discovers through zazen that the world forms the contents of one’s self, and dies together with it (Uchiyama, Kōshō, 2004). The Shōdōka expresses the non-gradual character of this realization: “With one leap we immediately enter buddhahood.” The small deluded individual takes the Buddha’s posture and throws oneself into zazen, and zazen itself is buddha (Uchiyama, Kōshō, 2004).
Community, Vow, and Long Practice
Practicing with a sangha (community) is invaluable for sustaining practice over time. The sangha originally referred to Buddhist monks and nuns living together, but has come to mean all those who practice the buddhadharma, particularly in groups (Uchiyama, Kōshō, 2004). Antaiji, the temple where Uchiyama taught, was unusual for its mix of monks and lay people practicing together, as well as its mix of Japanese and Western practitioners; it was devoted purely to zazen and investigating the meaning of life (Uchiyama, Kōshō, 2004). The teacher-disciple relationship in this tradition is not one of dependency but of shared orientation: Uchiyama described his own practice as facing the Buddha and walking in that direction, and told disciples they must also face the Buddha and go in the same direction with their own feet (Uchiyama, Kōshō, 2004).
The religious life of the Buddhist practitioner consists of living by vow and repentance, watched over and given strength by zazen: where there is no vow, one loses sight of progress; where there is no repentance, one loses the way; vow gives courage, and repentance crushes arrogance (Uchiyama, Kōshō, 2004). True repentance is not an apology but facing life straight on and letting the light of absolute reality illuminate the practitioner; the Samantabhadra Bodhisattva Dhyana Sutra teaches that repentance is actualized in the act of doing zazen (Uchiyama, Kōshō, 2004).
Uchiyama’s seven points of practice, which summarize his life’s teaching, center zazen as both the fundamental method and the criterion of the entire path: zazen is the truest and most venerable teacher; it must work concretely in daily life as the two practices (vow and repentance) and the three minds (magnanimous mind, nurturing mind, and joyful mind); practitioners should sit silently for ten years, then ten more, then another ten (Uchiyama, Kōshō, 2004). He encouraged practitioners to continue regular sesshins and daily zazen for at least ten years to develop the stability to see all suffering as the scenery of life rather than being carried away by it (Uchiyama, Kōshō, 2004).
Opening the hand of thought, when practiced over a long time, makes clear that when one opens that hand, one is the self of the whole dharma world whether one thinks so or not: a self that fulfills the role of life when in life, and the role of death when in death (Uchiyama, Kōshō, 2004). Dōgen’s “Refraining from All Evil” teaches that when one settles in universal self, all evil is necessarily not produced; the measure of practice’s actualization is found in the depth of this refraining, and continuous zazen steadily makes this universality clear (Uchiyama, Kōshō, 2004).