323 – Zazen As Defiant Self-Care - The Zen Studies Podcast

Since the term arose in 1950’s, “self-care” has referred to a number of different things. If we consider self-care to be things you do to remain physically and mentally healthy, then Zazen – simple, goalless, Zen meditation – can be seen as excellent self-care. In these troubled times, such self-care can even be seen as defiant – refusing to be broken down by challenging circumstances. Other forms of meditation can also be seen as self-care, of course, but Zazen can be a little difficult to get your mind around. Framing it as self-care may help you appreciate what it’s all about.

Quicklinks to Article Content:
The Concept of Self-Care
Zazen As Self-Care
Learning to Love Zazen

Before I get started on this episode, I want to say that I regret using the term “hinayana” in a couple of my previous episodes. A listener wrote a ways back asking me not to use the word because it’s historically been used to disparage Theravadin Buddhism as the “lesser vehicle” by Mahayana (the “greater vehicle”). I employed the term hinayana anyway, with many disclaimers saying I was not referring to any form of Buddhism but to a self-centered, goal-oriented approach to practice, whatever form of Buddhism you’re in. However, subsequently I’ve heard my students use the word a number of times, sometimes sliding into using it as a way to refer to original or Theravadin Buddhism, so I now admit it was a bad idea to start using it. From now on I will simply say “goal-oriented practice” when that’s what I mean. My apologies.

The Concept of Self-Care

I have to admit I don’t particularly like the word “self-care.” In the last seventy years the meaning of the term has meant a number of different things.[i] Originally, it was used to describe the ability of the sick and elderly to physically care for themselves, particularly when it came to cleanliness and grooming. Then, in the 1960’s, it was adopted by Black activists, particularly women, to refer to proper nutrition and activities like meditation and yoga. Such activities maintained their physical and mental health while living in a system that abused black bodies, allowing them to keep up their civil rights work. Later, of course, the term became commercialized and used to sell all kinds of goods and services – some of them legitimately beneficial to maintaining your physical and mental health, but many of them focused on beauty or billing themselves as pleasurable indulgences you deserve because your life is so stressful.

Despite the commercialization of the term self-care, I think Western culture has developed a genuine appreciation for the importance of making space in your life for regenerative activities – that is, things that help you renew your strength, heal, and maintain connections with the people and things that really matter to you. Regenerative activities include things like rest, spending time with family or friends, reading, playing or listening to music, gardening, hiking, cooking, taking vacations, and sometimes just unscheduled spaciousness.

The negative thing about the concept of self-care is that it can lead us to form expectations. I hear many people talk about how much sleep or exercise or “downtime” they need. Inevitably, there are times when we don’t get to maintain the diet or schedule that we’ve decided is best for us, or when we don’t get enough time to spend on our regenerative activities. Then we often experience stress and resentment about the situation on top of whatever physical or mental repercussions there are from not maintaining our ideal program of self-care.

When I feel this kind of stress or resentment, I call to mind people who are going through extremely difficult times, or living in war zones. They are busy surviving and taking care of whatever and whoever they can – and probably rising to the task much better than they expected they could. I’m not saying they don’t have their moments of resentment or self-pity, but the pressing need to look after themselves and others at a basic level probably precludes any categorization of activities as “self-care” versus everything else they have to do.

Ironically, the concept of self-care often presumes a fairly high baseline level of good fortune and comfort, where we can raise our expectations with respect to our physical and mental health and sense of wellbeing. This isn’t to say self-care isn’t important, just that it’s probably best to avoid getting overly attached to our ideas about what we really need. In fact, sometimes our energy levels and sense of wellbeing increase when we are absorbed in important projects or in taking care of others, even if our ideal program of self-care suffers.

In any case, I think the concept of self-care can be helpful if we see it as regenerative activity (or lack of activity) that supports healthy functioning, but we try to remain free of a sense of entitlement about it. I especially like the concept if we employ it in the way the Black civil rights activists did – as an act of defiance. Even if we are fortunate in our personal lives right now, the world can be a very troubling and scary place. We are called to stand up for justice and democracy, and fight oppression. As we face what’s going on, it can be difficult to maintain our mental health. Zazen can help us remain strong and respond to the very best of our abilities.

Zazen As Self-Care

That said, let’s discuss our zazen. Do you enjoy your zazen? Why or why not? Do you think of it more as a healthy thing you try to make sure you do enough of – like sleep, exercise, or flossing your teeth – or as a pleasure, like reading, gardening, hiking, or getting a massage?

When I’ve asked Zen practitioners this question, they generally say they see zazen as a little of both – a healthy activity they try to work into their busy lives, but also as a pleasure. More accurately, they say that sometimes it’s a pleasure and sometimes it’s just hard. When it’s hard, they do it anyway because they know it’s good for them.

What makes zazen a regenerative activity? Fundamentally, we are giving our bodies and minds a complete and total break. For however long we set aside for meditation, we set aside all of our activities – at least physically. We also invite ourselves to let go of any attempt to analyze, decide, plan, understand, or fix anything. As Dogen says in “Fukanzazengi:”

Put aside all involvements and suspend all affairs. Do not think “good” or “bad.” Do not judge true or false. Give up the operations of mind, intellect, and consciousness; stop measuring with thoughts, ideas, and views.[ii]

If you’re anything like me, you’ll feel some resistance to these instructions. What do you mean, don’t think “good” or “bad?” Should we stop caring about whether our behavior is moral or skillful? Should we stop identifying certain things in our lives or in the world as problematic and in need of change? Do not judge true or false? That sounds like a terrible way to live! And giving up the operations of mind, intellect, and consciousness – if that’s even possible, doesn’t that leave us like a mindless zombie?

We need to realize that the instructions for zazen are just that: Instructions for what you do during the time you set aside for this precious act of self-care. We don’t sit zazen all the time, just as we don’t sleep all the time. There are times for thinking “good” and “bad” and judging “true” and “false.” In fact, we’re called to use our discriminating mind – or at least allow it to be activated as appropriate – throughout most of our waking hours.

The thing is, most of us are walking around with a highly activated mind all the time. Even when we’re not directly engaged in activities, we’re thinking about the past and future. We imagine possible scenarios and try to make decisions and plans. We review mistakes we made or anticipate future opportunities. We worry. We feel compelled to form an opinion on just about everything under the sun because we want to be ready in case we have the chance to make a difference. When we witness things like the recent shameless murders of peaceful protestors, our minds reel with pain and the effort to make sense of things. Even when we’re ruminating on positive things we’re often driven by a subtle need to make something more of the present moment.

Without realizing it, we postpone true contentment until… until when? The list of possible contingencies is endless: Until we finish this or that thing, until there is peace in our personal relationships and in the world, until we’re on vacation or we’re retired, until we’ve corrected this or that character flaw, until we’re able to meditate and practice the way we think we should… This sense that we can’t rest is poignantly conveyed in a song by Daniel Johnston, “The Sun Shines Down on Me.” (There’s a link in the show notes, or look it up on YouTube, it’s worth a listen.) In the first chorus, Johnston sings, “And the sun shines down on me, I feel like I deserve it.” After a darker second verse, he sings, “the sun shines down on me, I want to feel like I deserve it.” He finishes with a third version of the chorus where he says, “When the sun shines down on me, I feel like I have to earn it.”

How often do we feel like we have to earn even the warmth of the sun? It’s very easy to become weighed down by our myriad responsibilities. We want to work hard, pull our weight, and take care of our families. We want to be a good parent, spouse, child, sibling, or friend. If we’re not working to maintain our health by eating a healthy diet and exercising, we probably feel guilty about it. We aspire to make wise and compassionate consumer choices within a system increasingly dependent on the exploitation of people and resources. We want to stand up against injustice and work for a better world. Our almost infinitely-long “to-do” lists can easily make us feel stressed even when we’re supposed to be resting or enjoying ourselves.

Zazen can be the ultimate self-care when it comes to giving ourselves time and space to relax completely – to just be, to inhabit this life without any need for justification, to enjoy the sun’s warmth as if we don’t have to do anything to earn it. Dogen describes zazen as “the dharma gate of joyful ease.” While we may not always feel joy or ease while sitting, we give ourselves a chance to taste unconditional contentment by letting go of everything as much as we can. If we taste some contentment, we don’t expect to hold on to it when we get up from the meditation seat and meet the challenges of our lives, but the experience strengthens and informs us.

Unless you are in the middle of a dire emergency (as in, your house is literally on fire or something like that), you can afford to give yourself a complete and utter break in zazen. You don’t have to figure anything out, evaluate anything, plan anything, or fix anything. Naturally, your mind is likely to start doing those things, despite your intention to put everything down, because worrying is its job. Whenever you realize that’s happening, all you have to do is relax and invite yourself to let go and just be. For 5 minutes, 10 minutes, a half hour, or an hour, you can sit and appreciate just being alive. The whole world will be waiting for you when you get up from zazen, and you’ll be in a better state for meeting it.

Learning to Love Zazen

It would be great if we could learn to enjoy zazen the way we enjoy taking a stroll in the woods, basking in the sun, or settling down for an afternoon siesta. Realistically, there will be many times when our zazen experience is dominated by physical or mental discomfort or by drowsiness and we just make ourselves do it because it’s good for us. No matter how much you love zazen, in the middle of 5-day meditation retreat there are inevitably going to be sitting periods which feel like an endurance test and nothing more. Still, even when zazen isn’t pleasant, we relax around that.

No matter how we frame zazen, it’s difficult not to create an idea about how it’s supposed to be and then aim for that ideal. If we think we’re supposed to feel at ease, we can become frustrated because we don’t feel at ease! It’s essential to realize that we’re also letting go of any effort to achieve a certain kind of meditation experience. If we’re aiming to give ourselves a complete and utter break and just be, it doesn’t make any sense to conclude that we have to earn the warmth of the sunshine by being happy and calm in our zazen. This just adds “good zazen” to our to-do list.

All we have to do when our zazen experience isn’t what we would like it to be is accept that. Just sit calmly in the middle of your crappy zazen. The moment you fully accept your situation just as it is, there is perfect zazen! You can feel something shift and relax. You get a taste of unconditional contentment, and perhaps a glimpse of how the content and flavor of your experience is just the landscape of zazen.

Unless you are familiar with sitting, the instructions for zazen may sound like a recipe for a session of unsatisfying mind wandering or dozing. If you’re not trying to do anything at all, won’t habit energy just dominate and waste your time? To be honest, this is what happens quite frequently, although it’s debatable whether this makes your meditation a waste of time. However, when we realize our mind is wandering or we’re slipping into dullness, all we have to do is… nothing. Remember? We’re giving ourselves a complete and utter break, including from any expectations about being a good meditator.

What’s surprising is how regenerative and wonderful this doing nothing can be! Zazen is dedicating time and space to your deeper Self, the Self which is complete and lacking nothing, which needs to do nothing to deserve the sunshine. Next time you sit, instead of chasing away thoughts or straining to concentrate, see if you can connect with your Universal Self. It wants to enjoy the stillness, the freedom from doing. It has nothing to say and has no agenda.

Making time and space for your Universal Self is excellent self-care. In a troubling world, it can even be seen as an act of defiance – keeping you strong despite all the challenges you face.