Here’s a koan.
Someone asked (great master) Shitou, “What am I supposed to do?”
“Why are you asking me?”
“Where else can I find what I’m looking for?”
“Are you sure you lost it?”
We, like Shitou’s earnest seeker, come to practice searching for solutions to our lives, looking for ways to feel more at ease, more authentic, fully ourselves. The thing about Zen is it’s so simple that we may not even believe the instruction that we receive, over and over again. Only be present to breath, to sound, to sensations, to whatever fills up your awareness each moment. On the cushion in zazen, there’s nothing else to do but this. And off the cushion likewise. There’s nothing else we need to do but turn toward the actual experience of the moment. We become increasingly aware, and even recognize awareness itself. The impermanence of any momentary experience is right before our very eyes, within our very heart. So with continuous practice we learn to trust and we become accustomed to taking to heart Shitou’s words and find that what we’ve been looking for all along is right here.
