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Zen Living: 5 Ways to Land

This entry is part 11 of 12 in the series Zen 101


Zen Liv­ing: every­thing is unique. You must work on each thing, and be vig­i­lant all the time, in order to land in the present moment.

Looking for more on this topic? 

Check out my book,
Half Asleep in the Bud­dha Hall.
My “East­ern” book takes you by the hand and helps you to find peace of mind. 
Half Asleep in the Bud­dha Hall is a Zen-based guide to liv­ing life ful­ly and deeply.

Zen Liv­ing is one of those easy — hard things. Moment by moment, just sit­ting, just breath­ing… just… what­ev­er… is easy.

Doing it all the time — landing in yourself, in the present moment — and choosing to stay there — is hard. 

We’ll talk more about this, and my book Half Asleep in the Bud­dha Hall is a great guide, but for now here are 5 ideas for find­ing your place in this sec­ond of reality. 


1. Do it Now

Pro­cras­ti­na­tion is dead­ly. The odd part is that the most dead­ly vari­ety tends to be being proac­tive in oth­er areas.

For exam­ple, I worked with peo­ple who had a short list of issues — say, want­i­ng things to be bet­ter with their career, and also want­i­ng a bet­ter rela­tion­ship with their partner. 

They’d throw them­selves into the work issue, and cre­at­ing some suc­cess. But the rela­tion­ship stuff fell off the radar.

Then the relationship problem re-emerges.

Here’s the odd part. Rather than throw them­selves into the rela­tion­ship with aban­don equal to what they cre­at­ed with their career, they’d make excus­es. Or, rather, point to their suc­cess in oth­er areas. “But… but… I’m doing so well with my career!”

Zen Liv­ing: every­thing is unique — we deal with every­thing one-at-a-time (like putting on your pants, one leg at a time…) Noth­ing auto­mat­i­cal­ly applies to oth­er things. You must work on each thing, and be vig­i­lant all the time.

It’s quite easy to pick the “fun-est” thing first, and then get so trans­fixed by it that the oth­er stuff falls to the way­side. Or, to work on some­thing, get the results you want, and assume that all the oth­er “things” will just look after themselves. 

The truth is that this work requires both patience and diligence.


2. Practice

This flows out of the first point, and I sus­pect we might ben­e­fit from proac­tive prac­tice.

Rather than hop­ing that things will go “OK,” that we active­ly look for oppor­tu­ni­ties to chal­lenge ourselves. 

And the “thing” we have to work with is our life. Or more specif­i­cal­ly, the issues that arise. 

After all, any­one can be suc­cess­ful… when noth­ing is going wrong.

Most peo­ple get to a cer­tain com­fort lev­el with this work, and then slow down or stop. 

Exam­ple: They have a dia­logue with a friend or part­ner, and dis­cov­er much to talk about, and then find a top­ic or a direc­tion that rais­es a few hack­les (in them, or their part­ner reacts to the top­ic,) so that’s where they stop — they pull back one step from the “juice.”

Zen liv­ing: per­haps, the place to be liv­ing is on the “shaky side” of every line. If cer­tain top­ics are scary or char­gy, talk about those things. I find it fun, when talk­ing with friends, to notice their dis­com­fort, and to say some­thing like, “I can see that you don’t want to talk about this, so would you like to talk about talk­ing about it?”

Run­ning away, avoid­ing, danc­ing around — all are ways to stay stuck in the dra­ma, while excus­ing your­self. No excus­es! Just see each thing as one more thing — one more way to bring your­self into the Now.


3. “Free Your Mind, the Rest Will Follow” — The Band

Let­ting go of your mind’s dom­i­nance is the most dif­fi­cult part of the Zen path, or any path of self awareness. 

The mind is sticky and slip­pery, and much of it is high­ly invest­ed in main­tain­ing the sto­ry you tell yourself.

Sto­ries are the cur­ren­cy of the mind. 

We think we know who we are, and believe our own press releas­es about how the world is. 

Many peo­ple tell them­selves all kinds of provoca­tive tales — how hard done by they are, how their near­est and dear­est are tak­ing advan­tage of them, how they have no choice when they act like spoiled children. 

It’s as if, just because they’ve looked at things one way since they were 6, they MUST look at things that way until they die.

There is nothing “true” about any of the stories you tell yourself.

Now, sure, you were born, had par­ents, and stuff hap­pened and con­tin­ues to hap­pen. None of your sto­ries about your life, (about the details — about “what hap­pened”) how­ev­er, are any­thing oth­er than what you’ve cho­sen to believe to sup­port your pre­con­ceived notions.

Zen liv­ing: things are as they are, until they aren’t. Get­ting your shorts in a knot, or act­ing like a spoled brat, is just one more mind game.

Free­ing your mind real­ly means free­ing your­self from your mind’s grip.

Life is dif­fi­cult, and telling your­self sto­ries about how real­ly, real­ly bad it all is does noth­ing regard­ing deal­ing with the the actu­al liv­ing out of your days. If you choose to let go of the sto­ry-telling, you can sim­ply make choic­es, act, and eval­u­ate, then act again. 

Once you mind is freed to resolve what “is,” “the rest just follows.”


4. Happiness is not the point. Integrity, freedom, and presence is.

We are a “hap­pi­ness rules” cul­ture, and that’s odd, because vir­tu­al­ly no one is actu­al­ly happy. 

Peo­ple seem hell-bent on being hap­py “some day, when all the ducks line up, if the creek don’t rise…” 

Chas­ing after some ephemer­al goal called hap­pi­ness keeps us buy­ing more, judg­ing every­thing as lack­ing, and blam­ing oth­ers for the dissatisfaction.

This relates to point # 3 — sto­ry­telling. If you see the moment for what it is, you also rec­og­nize that most of our trou­ble comes with the sto­ries we tell ourselves.

Our judge­ments about self, oth­ers, and cir­cum­stances, all of which is neu­tral, add the dynam­ic for our unhappiness.


Zen liv­ing: as you bring your­self, again and again, into pres­ence, you start to see that most­ly there is not much going on, and pre­cious lit­tle to do, oth­er than to be there for your life. Get­ting bent out of shape — typ­i­cal­ly over the behav­iour of oth­ers (code for “They are not doing it the right way!” — mean­ing, your way) is quite the waste of time. Your opin­ion is just that — yours — and no one cares.

Drop the need to judge your life as lack­ing, and immerse your­self ful­ly into the Now.


5. Take time to experience

Step­ping back from the mind’s chat­ter can be quite dis­con­cert­ing. With­out all of that dis­trac­tion, what ends up being left is sen­sa­tion. The flow of life-force. Breath. 

This can either be star­tling, scary, bor­ing, or interesting.

The point to briskly step­ping away from your mind’s dom­i­nance is to open your­self to the end­less flow of sen­sa­tion.

You sud­den­ly can hear, and see, and feel, and in this process of being, you come into the actu­al expe­ri­ence of what’s up. 

Most of the time your mind will pop in and start judg­ing or com­plain­ing. “Here’s what you ought to be doing, feel­ing, think­ing!” And away you go from the expe­ri­ence to the men­tal games.

Zen liv­ing: use your breath to bring your­self back into your body, and then sim­ply feel and hear and see. Be at one with your­self. Have your feel­ings, expe­ri­ence your expe­ri­ences, and then… wait for it… go with the flow to the next thing.

You’ll notice a reluc­tance to ful­ly immers­ing your­self into the flow and feel of life, as if feel­ing is a “bad thing.”

Have anoth­er breath, and go with it. Soon, you tol­er­ance for being ful­ly alive and ful­ly present will grow. 

You, in a sense, become immersed in liv­ing, as opposed to liv­ing your life one step removed.

And remem­ber, every­thing new has the poten­tial to be scary. Do it anyway!


Series Nav­i­ga­tion« Zen and Sim­ple Pres­enceThe Empti­ness of Everything »
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