The Way Less Travelled

 

The Way of Zen is a Way Less Travelled

This morning Shukke and I sat together sipping espresso coffee, exchanging stories about our night, enjoying our two Shih Tzus, exploring the words of today, and laughing.  She is now in Retreat, and I am writing to you. Before we each retired, such mornings were uncommon.  We would dress for work, eat a hurried breakfast and leave home, not unlike the rest of the world of people our age.  Yet there was something different about us.

                We were both on so-called “spiritual” paths. We took time to meditate. We took time to reflect, look deeply inwardly, and take risks. The risk of doing something different than most, the risk of leaving a secure job, moving to a different state, and building new lives. Such risk taking is not uncommon in the world of Zen.  We are an independent lot.

                When someone joins us for a Zen service, I tell them they are free to recite the vows, chant the sutra, or not. I simply ask them to sit quietly in the posture taught by Master Dogen Zenji. Zazen is our practice. After tea and dharma talk each is offered an opportunity to ask questions, challenge the teaching, offer an alternative, etc. For religious practice this is uncommon, but I believe it is healthy for the establishment of something that will deepen a participant as they continue along their way.

                There are risks in such practice. There is no way to predict what will come up in the heart and mind of someone beginning to take on Zen. A long-ago trauma may arise, feelings of being harmed, being vulnerability.  On the other hand, a beginner may become completely bored, find the teachings irrelevant in their lives and after a few weeks, leave the practice. Some few may actually take on the practice in earnest, engage the teacher and others, and more importantly, take the risk of a deep dive into themselves.  This will be their way less travelled. They may find themselves alone as others (including their family) may be unable to relate. There certainly are risks here. My teacher told me early on in my practice with him I would likely divorce as my wife at the time was against me taking up Zen. As it happens, I divorced.

The way less travelled always comes at a cost. Yet the benefits are truly a treasure. Learning to be upright, knowing we will often fail, violate a precept, but get back up again the stronger for it. These are the lessons of being human, the lessons learned along the way.  I invite all to sit Zazen in the morning and evening. I invite all to take the path less traveled and, in the process, become a far more authentic human being.

Be well.