On Zen Practice and Control
We often think we are in control of our life. We plan for events and scenarios that we hope will or won’t play out in the future. We think of the past and how we won’t be fooled by this or that again, but have no control over what will or won’t come in the future. We have very little control over our self, let alone our life. Our hearts beat, nails and hair grow, and we age without any say in the matter. If we were truly in control then we could stop and start these processes at will. Our entire body is full of microorganisms, fungi, and other not us living things.
Control tends to be something that helps people feel safe and secure. Yet, has life ever been safe and secure? No matter what we are going to experience turbulence, disease, fear, and long for understanding and comfort. This was very apparent to me in ango practice. Ango is the practice periods that take place in a Zen monastery for, usually, 90 day periods. When doing Ango, very little is up to the priest in training. When the bell rings, you wake up, put on your kimono, tie back the sleeves, wash your face and brush your teeth. You put on the same black Koromo (priest’s robe) as everyone else and make your way to the Sodo where you sit Zazen. From here forward is a repeating pattern or chanting, working, sitting, oryoki, more work, more sitting, more chanting, and then you go to bed.
As for me, after a while my mind started wanting to fight the schedule. I wanted to finish a task because it wasn’t a task I wanted to be doing. Refinishing the boards on the bridge to prepare for the winter snow was not on my list of things I would enjoy doing. So, like all things in my life up to that point, I figured if I rushed through this and got it done, I could relax and find some time for myself, or at least a more enjoyable task, right? wrong. When you finish one job, you're given another job. I found that most jobs, I did not enjoy. Cutting wood was hard, stacking wood was worse, clearing brush was terrible, housekeeping work was boring, and cleaning the bath-house was gross. It seemed I only enjoyed cooking in the kitchen, and wiping down the Sodo with zokin (cleaning cloth).
Trying to fight the dissatisfaction of jobs I didn’t like was an awful experience. Each time you think you’re done, someone just brings more dishes to clean. Each time you think the brush has been cleared, you are assigned a new area to clear. Each time you stack firewood, there is another stack just waiting to be started. Housekeeping happens whether the rooms are dirty or not. So, what can you do? Nothing. JUST NOTHING.
I began to realize that the trouble was not with the activity. Sure, some were more physically demanding and made me very tired. Yet, was this really a problem? I always get to sleep at night. Not a lot of sleep, but the more I worked, the better I slept. It seemed that the actual problem was with my mind. Thinking that things should be another way, rather than the way they are. Thinking about a job I’d rather do, but didn’t get to. Wouldn’t my day be much easier if only I could be cooking in the kitchen right now? that would be fun at least.
So, I began to realize that I make most of my problems for myself. My mind is always dissatisfied. Everywhere I looked I seemed to not be in control of what was going on. I didn’t get to make my own choices and I felt like a child again. However, was being a child so bad? I was only responsible for my practice. It couldn’t be done by anyone, but me. This is a great responsibility and I was very fortunate to be in a position to be able to do this practice. It was only because of the support of others that I was able to be doing ango in the first place. Shouldn’t I be cleaning rooms with gratitude and diligence? What was stopping me from clearing brush with a free and open view? I began to realize that the important thing is to just give up. Just stop trying to pry the control away from the world and instead view my position as for my benefit.
The world was going to be the world. I have no say in that. Yet, I do have a say in how I inhabit my little spot in it. Clearing brush for the benefit of all beings sounds like a zen cliche. Even doing so puts me and all beings apart from each other. “I” am clearing brush for “all beings”. In the absolute sense, I, the brush, and all beings are not separate, we are all moving parts of the vast expansive unborn. So instead, I cleared brush for the benefit of clearing brush. I stacked firewood for the benefit of stacking firewood. Sitting Zazen was just sitting Zazen. For what reason does it have to be anything more than what IT is?
