Crossing Nebraska

Some years ago I had the good fortune to stumble upon a weeklong meditation retreat in the wooded Uplands of Indiana led by a teacher whom I’d never heard of before. With the exception of its duration and the fact that it was in a natural setting and in the Soto Zen tradition, I had no idea what to expect. My job, simply enough, was to show up and remain open to experience. Anyway, after arriving and taking one look at the schedule posted on the door of that little rustic cabin turned zendo – the fourteen daily periods of seated meditation (zazen) separated by brief periods of walking meditation (kinhin) – the first experience that I opened up to was that of fear! Fourteen fifty minute periods of zazen each day! Could I physically take it? Could I mentally take it? I didn’t know!       The schedule struck me as dauntingly unrelenting – nothing but zazen and kinhin interspersed with just enough time to eat and sleep and attend to the barest of personal hygien...

Most people, I suspect, need no convincing regarding the potentially meditative qualities of walking. We discover them easily enough on our own just as soon as we’re old enough to take our first long and solitary stroll. We come to realize quite naturally that the repetitive rhythm of breath and step has a way of inducing stillness of mind, deep contemplation, and an appreciation of the present moment.  Labyrinth walking at Chartes Cathedral, France    Notwithstanding the fact that the meditative qualities of walking arise quite spontaneously, many practices have arisen that either utilize those qualities or serve to deepen them. We might refer to these practices as forms of walking meditation in order to differentiate them from the much more informal practice of “going for a walk.” Perhaps some readers are already familiar with the benefits of walking meditation after having been introduced to it via the teachings of Thich Nhat Hanh, for T. N. Hanh & A. H....

The election season is a tough one for us Buddhists here in the United States – especially when it involves the presidency. Talk about putting our practice to the test! Is there any better time to see how well we can abide in equanimity, or how sincerely we take the practice of loving-kindness? Is there any better time to test the limits of our compassion? You’ve seen the ads. You’ve heard the quotes. Indeed, it’s a tough season – and one that we’d just as soon not have to contend with!     We Buddhists tend to shy away from conflict – generally speaking, anyway.   We much prefer staying focused on living peaceful daily lives – diligently attending to the spiritual path laid out before us – over getting involved with any of the “messiness” of conflict. So maybe the toughest thing about all of this election season nonsense is how it draws us into such unwanted conflict and forces us to deal with all of the “messiness” of life – thereby nudging us toward the se...

My childhood was magical in many respects, but especially so for having fostered in me such keen awareness of the wonder of the natural world. Though we lived in a fairly developed suburban area, the family backyard opened onto a woodsy tract that has been with me either in reality or in reminiscence since I was old enough to venture beyond the confines of our little garden. Ostensibly, that plot of land was the plant cultivation area for a nearby garden supply retailer, which is why we in the adjoining neighborhood simply referred to it as ‘the nursery’. For all practical purposes, though, ‘the nursery’ was so infrequently tended and so overgrown that I experienced it then as I experience wilderness today.     A woodsy scene very reminiscent of 'the nursery'     A walk through ‘the nursery’ was a walk through a crazy-quilt of vaguely planned habitats stitched together and overlaid with whatever weeds and wildflowers and  woodland succession pla...

Gosh, I began this contemplation almost a month ago! It seems like ages. Since that time, however, I’ve been distracted by current events both negative and positive. On one hand, the killings in Aurora , Colorado would seem to represent the very worst that we humans can be. Even as I make that observation, however, I’m tempted to qualify it by noting that the recent drought we’ve been experiencing across the continental United States, and its very likely status as a human-caused climatic event, might be even more representative of the worst that we humans can be. No, the gradual destruction caused by global warming will not be as easily quantified as the loss of life in Aurora (as if even that can be quantified!), but it will certainly be no less real. The Olympics, on the other hand, have the potential to reveal us at our best – not our chest-thumping, blood-doping, win at all cost best, mind you, but our coming together in global goodwill best. I’ve been a fan of the Olympi...