I am the Worst Horse

You know the feeling when you sit down on your zafu to meditate, and everything just clicks?  Your body feels 100% comfortable on the cushion, you're able to  focus, you don't think about the time, you just sit.  Your thought stream is a placid trickle instead of a rushing torrent.  You're neither too sleepy nor too alert.  You know that feeling?

Well, I don't. 

I sat today, on my zafu, as I do nearly every day, for 20 minutes.  For those of you that list "meditate daily" on your list of goals, here's what you're up against.

I sat, facing the clock (rule #1, don't face the clock unless you want to be looking up at it every five minutes to "check" and see if the second hand has stopped, because damn, it sure feels like ten minutes have passed already!), heels placed one in front of the other.  Pelvis neutral, spine lifting, hands in prana mudra.

That's when it all falls apart, every time.  

Shunryu Suzuki teaches us, "In our scriptures, it is said that there are four kinds of horses: excellent ones, good ones, poor ones, and bad ones. The best horse will run slow and fast, right and left, at the driver's will, before it sees the shadow of the whip; the second best will run as well as the first one does, just before the whip reaches its skin; the third one will run when it feels pain on its body; the fourth will run after the pain penetrates to the marrow of its bones. You can imagine how difficult it is for the fourth one to learn how to run!"

Where was I?  Oh yeah, hands in mudra, attention on the breath, awareness of the present moment...

It's funny, there's a real misconception about yoga teachers out there.  Let me dispel any myths now.  Yoga teachers don't eat "raw cucumbers and carrots for breakfast" as one of my friends asked me a few months ago, unless they're totally broke.  Nor do we love all yoga poses.  I detest locust pose and do it as infrequently as possible.  And I don't enjoy sitting in zazen, but I do it anyway.

Why do I do it?  That's the thing.  When I don't do it, I notice something is missing.  That center of serenity that eludes me in zazen practice, well, I have it in the hours following a sit.  I'm able to teach, eat and live with a gentle determination that's different from my usual pushing a boulder uphill.  I can communicate my thoughts better and find that I say a lot less when I do need to communicate.  I can do more with less.  Very little ruffles my feathers, which is saying a lot...

I have sat when what I'd rather do is fight somebody(!) (I'm half Spanish and I love a good fight (and siesta), and mafia movies are my vice).  I have sat when what I'd rather do is take a nap.  I have sat when what I'd rather do is something more "productive."  And each time I sit I subconsciously wonder, "what's the point of all this sitting anyway?"   

There's hope for those of us that are bad sitters, those of us that think about the errands we have to do, the meeting we might be late to if the alarm doesn't sound after 20 minutes.  

Again, Suzuki sensei:

"Even though you are the worst horse, you will get to the marrow of Zen." 

"Even though you are the worst horse, you will get to the marrow of Zen."

People often ask about why I came to Japan.  It wasn't to "get to the marrow of Zen," but that has been a by-product of my time here.  When I'm not sitting I'm generally around people whose centers are unshakably still.  Most visitors are alarmed when, on their first visit to the country, they board a packed rush hour train and nobody speaks.  The silence can be unnerving until you learn to be in the middle of it. 

That's really what zazen is asking you to do, isn't it?  Be silent, and then be in the middle of that silence.  Only then can you go to the places that scare you that Pema Chodron writes about.  Only then can you get to the marrow of Zen.

In the meantime, where's that whip? 

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*If you'd like some encouragement with your zazen practice, join this pod:  Zazen Encouragement (grown with love and care by this guy) and we'll sit with you when we can.  It helps a lot.

* For more information on the subject of horses and Zen, please take a look at this Zen article.