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Zen Meditation - The Trip To Los Angeles

My introduction to zen and zen meditation was through a friend at college many years ago. He was kind of a nervous guy and at that time I was also experiencing the tension of youth, only being about nineteen . The tension came from working full time at the Chevron Oil field Research company headquarters in the evenings, full time as a janitor, to support my wife and daughter. My curriculum activities included carrying 12 units at college during the daytime hours of each week. Lack of sleep due to making the big push in life was taking its toll on my mind and body. 

Not recalling exactly the discussion with my friend between classes, the main thing that I do recall was his recommending that I read the book, The Three Pillars of Zen. I bought the book and read. The zen meditation techniques, different practices and commentary were all within its pages. This was a fascinating new world I had found !

My wife and I lived in a four bedroom house in Huntington Beach, California. The family was her, myself and a young daughter . Two of the bedrooms in our home were completely empty. One of the empty bedrooms was used to do daily meditation . I sat for a few minutes each day, usually right before I left for work, in which I drove to the city of La Habra on the Beach Boulevard route. This shift was four to twelve-thirty, five nights per week. I would sit again at work during lunch break hidden away in a carpeted office where I would face a wall. There were only 5 guys on a crew that cleaned three buildings. Three of us had our own building to clean . One guy waxed floors and the other guy just walked around as the lead janitor . The floor man was an old Polish man in his mid 50's, Paul Bauer. He told me a story one day of how he had escaped from a concentration camp in Siberia. But that's another story.

The lead janitor, the guy who just walked around doing nothing was Sherman. He was a drunk . Never said much, just walked past me and everyone else on the crew when he was doing his ritual of patrol in the three buildings. Usually he was a little bit tight. Other times he was slobbering drunk after our dinner break. Since this commentary is about zen and not about working at the Chevron Oil Field Research buildings in La Habra; I will move on to the main subject of reference now.

After doing the zen meditation practice of counting the inhalations and exhalations of my breaths for about one year; I decided to attend a three day sesshin in Los Angeles at the zen center of Los Angeles. The zen center was located on South Normandie street. It was a warm spring day (Friday) . I called in sick for work and at 2 pm, got in the car and made my way toward the zen center. Opening ceremony and lecture were to begin at about 6pm that evening. I had no idea what I was getting into, but certainly to this day have no regrets about the experience.

It was a good thing I left the house early and allowed myself four hours to make a ninety minute trip. You see, I got lost in Los Angeles for about 2 hours. I was driving around on Normandie street looking for an address which was only to be found on South Normandie street. That's right ! Off the freeway and sucked into a maze of streets in this huge vacuum cleaner, the city of Los Angeles. Wow! I stopped and asked for directions about 5 times. If I recall correctly, South Normandie was only a minute section of the longer, main street, Normandie. This was several years ago, so impossible to remember every detail. No question about getting lost in the huge smoggy city of angels though.

After several hours of confusion, with a major sigh of relief ; I finally found the target, a little hillside neighborhood hidden high above an endless maze of Los Angeles streets. Yes! This is it! Theres the house. Theres the address. I shut off the car. Wow! Finally made it. And there's a young lady standing on the porch.

It was an old, yet very well kept wooden white house , one story and of modest size. The house was white with a large front porch with wooden guard rail. I walked up the narrow conctrete sidewalk and was greeted with a smile from the very attractive young lady. Had I found paradise? No cars moving by or exhaust smoke, just the peaceful serenity of this hillside oriental neighborhood, hidden away as if lost in time. It was like being in another world.

The young lady introduced herself and I laughed at my getting lost , but she laughed harder than I did , seeming to understand the difficulty of finding the zen center. After a few minutes of friendly conversation; I grabbed my small backpack out of my blue toyota station wagon and we walked behind the little white house with the nicely shaded front porch. The first builing we passed was the zendo for the zen center. Just beyond the zendo; we approached a small 4-plex group of little apartments. She opened the front door at the apartment entrance where we now stood . We entered the small apartment carpeted. She explained to me that the monk who lives here is not here now, but will return soon. "Make yourself comfortable until his arrival".

There ! I was glad to have a few minutes silence to gather my wits. She had told me I would sleep there and she pointed to the floor in the small living room before she left. I spread out my sleeping bag and laid back on the floor and rested . Soon this bald headed monk arrived and we talked for about 30 minutes until the sound of a drum could be heard from a distant building, someone on the hillside. "Follow me", he said. We walked to the larger main building next door, the zendo, and entered the large room, with its hardwood flooring and meditation mats spread about everywhere.

When we entered through the back door of the zendo about twenty-five people were seated, facing three monks in black robes. I assumed , the zen master was the young man sitting on a mat with one monk to his right and one monk to his left who were seated on their mats. Two of the monk's wore black robes. The other monk sitting between the the black robed monks wore a gold robe. All was dead quiet in the large room now because the beating drum fron another building had stopped. All was silent. The single beats in the beginning when the drum noise had started were spaced apart in wide intervals, but as the time neared to begin our introductory evening of sesshin, the drum beats had became more rapid with less space between beats. This had been the seating call. Sesshin would now begin.

Now there was nothing but silence in the room as several people sat motionless. There were many faces and cross-legged bodies sitting on black pillows on bamboo mats with wooden frames. All eyes in the room were focused in the direction of the threesome, two monks in black robes and the Roshi in his grand gold robe.

The two monks in black robes and the zen master in his golden robe sat looking straight ahead, with hands cupped in lap. They looked as though they might have been sitting there in that same position for centuries. The motionless stillness lasted about 10 minutes. Finally, the roshi (zen master) smiled and spoke. The silence was broken . All listened to the masters words as they sat motionless on their mats. The master's voice was smooth and clear. The rythym of his voice was soothing.

To me personally there was something very special about this young Japanese man in his late twenties. When he finished speaking, one of the monks rang a bell and all present stood up in front of his or her mat. The chanting then began and lasted about ten minutes. Then, all was silent and all were again seated for zazen or zen meditation. The sitting was a longer time period than I was accustomed to at home or at work. When the hand bell finally rang again ; I was more than happy to stand . This time everyone cupped their hands at the chest and started the walking zazen session. This was where one foot was moved forward, heal then toes touching the floor. The position was held until the person in front of each person standing, moved one step forward.When there was a space to move forward to, each person would move forward, taking another step,as space permitted, to fill the empty space now available. We started out slowly during this walking zazen. Soon the pace was faster, until finally, everyone was in a normal slow walking cadence.

Now in front of my mat once again as were the others; we all sat down on our mats. These were little wooden platforms about two inches high and three foot square with bamboo mat on top.The bell would ring and we would begin another zazen session. This second session of sitting did not seem quite so as long as the first. 

For this first Friday evening of sesshin; the walking and sitting meditations lasted 3 to 4 hours. After the roshi's welcome message and a few hours of meditation and chanting, all were dismissed . I noticed that everything was a slight blur now, so I knew that something that I was not accustomed to was happening to me. Also the weight of my own existance seemed lighter. I felt more solid, more confident and more alive . The natural pleasure of being alive thru inner peace was very pleasant to experience.

It also felt good to exit the zendo and breathe the fresh air of night which was now very cool. I had noticed a restaurant within walking distance at the bottom of the hill of my new oriental neighborhood in which I would spent another, almost two full days before returning home. I was returning home already but did not realize or understand what would take place on the journey.

The restaurant at the bottom of the hill did not ease my hunger . It was a sushi bar and the flavorless raw fish did not stick to the ribs. Oh well ! At least the cool breeze of the spring evening and the slow walk back up the hill was pleasant. I entered the silence of the apartment, laid down on my sleeping bag and immediately fell into a deep sleep. There was no thought of tomorrow, no thoughts at all, only the shutting of my eyes and restful motionless sleep.

SATURDAY - 4AM

BOOM ! THE DRUM ! OH NO !  STILL DARK !! 

It seemed I had barely dosed off when the first beat of a drum woke me suddenly from my sound and restful sleep ! Could have used another 5 hours easily. No coffee, no breakfast , no time to hit the snooze alarm. The monk was standing over me and said nothing. He walked out the door as he took a final glance back at me. I growled and sat up to the second loud thud of the drum. BOOM ! When I entered the zendo, a monk directed me to my special seat, a mat with black pillow. I took my half lotus position on my very own specially designated mat, unwillingly ready for the days activity.

There was no anger. I knew it was still nightime. . . not even early morning and dark as pitch outside. I was in bermuda shorts and t-shirt and the room was very cool to say the least. My mat was positioned very close to two monks in black robes with the gold robed roshi sitting between the two. He was smiling. 

These three important figures were directly facing me. .  only about five feet to my right. My right side was clearly in their view. Nobody in the room sat closer to these three than myself. I was not honored by this or worried about the situation of being in such open view of the monks and zen master but my mouth was dry and I was half asleep due to lack of the habitual morning cup of coffee. I saw no coffee for the entire duration of the sesshin . Drinking tea was the custom and later at breakfast with the honey, it was very good.

All were now seated in the zendo on this first full day of sesshin. The last minute stragglers, the hosts... the whole family.

Ting. . . the gentle sound of a small brass hand bell . I sat motionless, while a few others did their last minute fidgeting or get more comfortable routines. There was the shifting of robes, the clearing of throats, the scratching , the twisting. . . and then dead silence and motionless bodies . All was dead silence .

I counted my breaths. This was my practice - taking breaths through the nose. Inhale... count one, exhale... count two, and so on until the number 10 was counted. Then repetition . . .one again and two, three, four. . . . until ten and start again at one. The counting of the breaths over and over again thousands of times throughout the sesshin was to follow in natural rhythm.

About fifteen or possibly twenty minutes into this Saturday morning meditation one of my legs started hurting . . . The instant I moved, one of the monks shouted - Don't Fidget. UH OH ! This was not good ! I was much too close for comfort to the monks and immediately regretted being positioned as it were, so very much in full few of these important figures. I could hear their breathing. My mind wandered a bit to the more pleasant thought of "oh well, this first morning sitting session will soon be over. . . I will get to stand up and stretch and walk soon". Unfortunately, no bell, no nothing. The silence lingered on and on and on !

Now, in more pain, but not even considering moving again; I sat motionless. My mind was screaming . Every second my mind was screaming . I reached what I thought was the limit of endurance and then entered into a new more agonizing zone of displeasure but held my body motionless. Using willpower that i did not know to be possible I absolutely refused to move. There was the gritting of teeth, the bursting of my gut, and an extreme insanity to remain motionless with absolutely no movement. This went on and on and on . I was no longer counting my breaths; I was shouting my count inside my head. Anything to get through this very long first Saturday morning session. Where's the bell ????

 Then finally !     Oh my God . . . THE BELL ! ! ! !  Everyone stood up. I have never been so relieved in all my years.

I felt much stronger after getting through this extremely uncomfortable first sitting of this first seventeen hour day of sesshin. The first hour of this Saturday morning sesshin was the longest hour of my entire life . No words here can describe the relief or leasure of hearing the sound of that one small handbell. Ting !

Everyone in the room stood up and we all began the first phase of  walking zazen. The movement was very slow at first and then the pace quickened to a more natural natural pace. Everyone had hands clasped on their chest, palm of left hand over a fisted right hand with eyes looking toward the planks of the hardwood floor as we moved forward. I was extremely thankful to be in motion once again.

Before I could take my same seat again for the second sitting; one of the monks approached me and whispered that I should follow him. He re-seated me in the only more private area of the zendo... a corridor area .

The zendo was a square, one level building about 36 x 36 foot . There was a front entry door and a back entry door to the building and an entry door off the corridor. Upon entering the back entrance, there was a small bathroom immediately to the right . There was also one side entry door to the zendo. This was the corridor which could be used to access to the main room from an old white side door as the entrance.

One other private room was near me and the corridor that I was completely unaware of as I took my place in the corridor . I loved my new quarters for meditation. It was a relief not to be so close to the monks and roshi. 

The corridor area of the zendo had been to my left during the previous agonizing sitting . The size of the corridor was about 14 feet long and 9 feet wide. There had been four people sitting in the corridor during that first sitting period of the day. . . all had sat facing a white wall with eyes directly forward. There was a wall behind those four when they were on their mats in the corridor. Along this wall were mats in which no one used for meditation. They were empty. Above the empty mats was a shelf with black bowls and wooden eating utensils, each wrapped in a white towel. These were above each empty mat on a shelf behind us as we sat.

The monk escorted me to the end mat closest to the side entry door in this corridor. The door stood wide open with a screen in place . When I sat down; the monk explained that my legs were to big to sit in the half lotus postion. He told me to place the pillow under my butt with knees and forelegs touching the bamboo pad on the top area of the mat. Wow! This new position was wonderful ! He smiled and walked away. I stood up on my feet again directly beside my mat as he moved out of the corridor and disappeared . Shortly thereafter, a bell rang again and I took my new sitting position on my new mat. . . directly by the open door with full wire screen in the corridor . I could feel the gentle morning breeze blowing in through the screen.

Not so good this morning breeze! It was downright cold. The earlier problem of staying awake was definitely not a problem now. The cold 5AM air, creeping down the slope of the elevated neighborhood hillside and into my sitting area of this corridor... was of no comfort whatsoever to my body. I was only protected by a thin white t-shirt and bermuda shorts. All others in the zendo wore robes; I did not own a black meditation robe. For me it was bermuda shorts and thin white t-shirt.

Now, I clearly understood the necessity of the thick robes worn by everyone in the zendo except myself. I shook and shivered. Surfing in the cool ocean waters of Huntington beach for several years did not help the current situation. Lizard skin would have been better. However, after that first sitting session this was nothing to compare with the previous misery. I shivered contently.

My only entry arrangements to attend this sesshin was to make a telephone call to the zen center. The only question asked was about cost, in which the fee of $60.00 was stated. I gave them my name and said I would attend. That was it . I showed up . No instructions were given at my arrival except for the lady leading me to my quarters and pointing to the floor where I was to sleep on the carpet on my sleeping bag. I still knew nothing as to the extent of proceedures or what to anticipate during my hours present. This was best. The less I knew the better.

My mat and pillow position were comfortable now in my new little three walled area, except for the fact that the cold air was very uncomfortable still. Sitting two feet from the wide open door to my left, with the screen allowing the first breezes of spring to enter, was simply not going to change immediately. The thing that did change was the fact that a barefooted monk was now moving about the zendo during this second meditation period of this Saturday morning. I could now hear loud noises frequently. Crack! Crack! I had not seen the monk yet due to the only thing directly in front of me being a wall. The loud cracking noise was a mystery.

The monk finally approached our somewhat isolated group in the corridor as we sat motionless staring at the white wall . One of the people two places to my right held his hands in front of him in a prayer like position. The monk, with thick yardstick in hand, struck the left and then right shoulder of the person whose hands were in this prayer position. Crack! Crack! Just like that. My body jumped ! These were not light blows! I let the monk pass by me without requesting the light beating during his first passing. He left the corridor in the same barefooted silent manner in which he had appeared.. This was a strange new event, although my main concern was still the cold morning air creeping in directly to my right. When counting my breaths and breathing ; I never lost my count having to start again at one, but the counting was not the quality it would have been if I would have been completely comfortable. For now it was me who was cold and shaking from time to time as thought this was natural. I knew that later in the day those long robes everyone was wearing would probably be too warm. You can see from my thoughts that my mind was not focused completely on my practice.

In order to better focus; during the monks second appearance, I held up my hands in the prayer position. He hesitated for an instance as if to make me wait. I did wait. Then came the pain. Crack! Crack! It hurt . The ruler was thick and hard. Pain !

After this sudden remittance of pain: I was able to concentrate much more intently on my breathing and counting . This was good. My quick decision to request being struck by the monk with the yardstick seemed to be the right choice. The pain went away in a minute or so and the cold air was not so annoying as before. This striking of the shoulders with the heavy yardstick was very beneficial and exactly what I had needed.

There was now the first glimmer of morning light from the world outside . Birds were chirping and the distant bark of a dog could be heard. There was also an occasional siren noise off in the distance. Nature and the city below our grand hillside were coming to life . A new day was beginning.

As I sat counting and breathing ; the breeze gradually subsided and the air temperature gradually warmed. Again there was the bell and again there was motion in the zendo. After stretching our legs with the walking zazen, which was longer than the previous sessions, there was a breakfast break. I could smell the food and tea even before It was served.

This eating of the first meal was a very interesting proceedure especially since I was starving ! The four of us in the corridor took a new place for this occasion. There had been empty mats behind each of us in our corridor. We now took a seat on a different mat behind each of us in this small room. Each of us grabbed the black bowls, wrapped in white cloth, with eating untensils inside from the shelf above. We sat with bowls in lap and waited. Finally, a lady appeared pushing a tea cart . We each took the hot tea and or juice. There was hot oatmeal and peanut butter and honey on her tray. It smelled great ! My first introduction to oatmeal with peanut butter and honey. Excellent !

I held out my bowl and the lady filled it with the hot steaming oatmeal . She looked at me as if I should do something. I placed the peanut butter and honey on my oatmeal, using her wooden serving spoon, and began eating . It was absolutely delicious. I drank hot tea and also had some juice when the tea was finished. The meal was a real pleasure. When the lady came by a second time, slowly moving her cart, and displaying this wonderful smile; I held out my bowl for another serving of the oatmeal. The others in the corridor also did not hold back. On the ladies final entry into the corridor , there was hot water on her cart. Our group washed our black wooden eating bowls and utensils, rewrapped all these together and placed them on the shelf above the mat in which the meal was taken .

With the meal finished and sitting on the eating mat with full belly; I began to get very sleepy. We all sat and waited as the others throughout the zendo finished their meals and washed their bowls.

Bell ringing and other ceremonies inside the zendo began after breakfast. Everyone in the zendo stood up doing the chanting and walking zazen. This lasted for maybe 30 minutes and was welcome. As each bell rang; I could now feel the vibration within me. My entire body tingled. Very pleasant ! The sun was shining outside and a beautiful spring morning had arrived. Once again everyone took their position on their mat with black pillow for sitting zazen. All of us in the corrodor moved back to our assigned meditation mat.

Once again this same monk with thick heavy wooden yardstick slowly entered the corridor. Their was only the slight sound of his approaching but I knew he was nearby. During this first pass no one in our hallway raised the hands in the prayer position to request the jolt of the yardstick. He stood directly behind me for a longer than usual few moments. He then put a hand on one of my shoulders and placed the end of the yardstick to the center of my back. I straightened my position to a better balanced and more upright position. He then turned to his right and slowly left the corridor. I counted my breaths with comfortable rhythm, not entirely pleased to be sitting in this straighter, more upright position. With time the new position became more natural . My body was balanced and the breaths were now more even than before.

Two full bowls of oatmeal with almost a cup full of peanut butter in each was now making me pay the price of being a glutton. Had I been able to move about with even more walking zazen, this would have been no problem. Sitting perfectly still on a mat and only breathing , my eyes kept wanting to shut . Both my eyes shut time after time ! I was dosing off as I sat . Suddenly;I felt a poke of the ruler end in my back. It was the monk again . He stood directly behind me once more . This was good his waking me but not so good this uncontrolable drowsiness. Without hesitation; I raised my hands to the prayer position. There was anticipation of the pain  that I knew was coming any moment. WHACK ! WHACK !

There was no holding back this time . The blows from the yardstick were merciless. Crack ! Crack ! Oh God !! ! There was real pain this time ! I was awakened instantly from my drowsiness. In fact, I was wide awake. How could I not be awake with each of my shoulders burning like a lit flame. . . The monk did not leave immediately. He simply kept his position behind me and stood there motionless. His ruler nudged its way into my back more gently this time. This time I straightened my back, knowing exactly what was expected. Finally he walked away silently .

The air temperature and breeze entering the screen door directly to my left was now perfect. My sitting position was comfortable. I was alert with almost no random thoughts entering my mind. The concentration on the inhalations and exhalations of my breathing was now more natural . As I counted the time passed quickly . Finally there was comfort and inner peace.The birds outside sang contentedly, as if to welcome this beautiful new spring morning. My eyes were focused on a specific place on the white wall directly in front of my mat. My body was motionless with back positioned straight as it should be .

The next few sittings of zazen came and went without disturbance. I no longer requested to be struck by the monk when he entered our area of the zendo. Soon it was lunchtime, with the lady bringing the cart once again. The food was very good, some kind of very flavorful gruel with vegetables and many different added spices . There was also tea and juice, with slices of oranges and fresh baked bread. I ate slowly, enjoying each bite as I sipped cool juice and savored the fresh fruit. When the second helping was offered I nodded no . Eating an adequate amount was all that was necessary. The lesson of over-eating as previously done during breakfast would not be repeated . This was not the time to be sleepy and sluggish . I was at the sesshin to wake up.

After lunch a gong rang . All stood up and walked outside . Everyone slowly started grabbing garden tools and milling about. I followed a group to the front of the three building complex. It was time for some gardening work to be done around the zendo building. I moved to the front yard area of  the small white wooden house next door. I worked in the front yard area of the white house with three other people. We raked and planted plugs of grass among the plants in front of the house, to add to the Japanese landscape. Walking around outside for ninety minutes or so, with the sunlight warming my body felt good. I was at peace and barefooted . There was not only the sunlight but another haze. Everything I looked at in my view of vision was slightly blurred. Each specific object I looked at did not have an individual blur or haze . My entire vision of site was a slight haze of light. I blinked but it did not clear my vision.

During this same outdoor break, one of the monks walked up to me. Together we walked back inside the zendo . We entered through the same side entrance door which was the entrance to the corridor that had been my new home for the duration of this sesshin. We took about 8 steps to the opposite end of this meditation corridor which opened out into the main zendo area. Rather than moving completely into the center of the large main room of the zendo. . . we turned right and walked about 8 steps toward the front door entrance. Here; there was an even smaller corridor area directly to our right that was carpeted.

We entered the small corridor and stood directly in front of a old painted - white wooden door. He turned the brass knob and slowly slid the door open. We each took one step into the very small room. The first thing that made an impression in my mind was the very low ceiling .

The room we now entered was only about six feet long and six feet wide. The very low seven foot ceiling height made the room appear much smaller than the actual size. The monk explained that Dokusan would begin when the free-time work period outside ended . I looked over the room as he spoke . There was a large flat silk pillow and a small round table to the left of the pillow. The table was about one foot in diameter and one foot tall, with a small brass hand bell sitting on the thin bamboo matting on the top. That was it . Otherwise the room was empty with white walls and thick soft light tan carpet on the floor . There was no window in the room, only the very solid white entry door. The monk gave me a brief explanation of what I was to do regarding Dokusan and when I was to do it. The proceedure was fairly simple. I listened as he explained.

 " After everyone moves back inside and is seated after the work period; Dokusan will begin . When the person to your right where you are sitting in the zendo stands up and walks to this area; you will be next for Dokusan. When you hear the bell again, this will mean that you should get up quickly and move to the door outside this room. Stand and wait with hands cupped together at your chest in the prayer position. The door will be shut when you arrive.

  When the bell inside rings and the door opens, enter the room slowly, shuting the door behind you. Look into the Roshi's eyes from the moment you enter. Your hands should be in the cupped position at your chest . Shut the door with your right hand, while holding the left hand in the same place. After you shut the door, place your hands together again at your chest. Take your seat in your meditation position directly in front of the roshi, as close to the roshi as you can sit. Do not let your knees touch the roshi's knees. Bow to the roshi after you are seated. State your first and last name and your practice after you are seated and bow.

 Never take your eyes off the roshi from the time you enter the room until the time you back out of the room. Stand and back out of the room when the roshi rings his hand bell . Shut the door after you have opened the door and backed out of the room. The person waiting in the hallway will open the door when the roshi rings his bell when ready for that person to enter the room. After dokusan return to your meditation mat. Do you have any questions? "

I said no and returned to the front yard of the smaller white house next door to continue the planting of the small clumps of grass in the dirt.

 About midway into the first sitting period after the late morning lunch and work breaks, dokusan began. There would be the gentle sound of the hand bell all afternoon . One person would scurry to the small  hallway directly outside the white wooden door of the dokusan private chamber, while another returned to their mat.

Finally, much later in the afternoon, my time with the roshi was drawing near. The person sitting to my right had got up quickly and walked quicky to the white door in the tiny corridor. The next time the bell rang would mean I was to go to the hallway. A few moments passed . In fact many minutes passed .

Ting ! I stood up and walked quickly . Ten steps down my corridor and a right turn. . . Eight steps to the carpeted hallway. . . I entered the hallway and stood outside the closed door. No sound from inside the room could be heard. I waited , anticipating nothing. Ting ! The door opened . The novice backed out, closed the door and walked away. I stood there in silence waiting for the bell . Ting ! I entered and immediatly focused my eyes directly on the roshi, as my right hand grabbed the brass knob of the door to shut it behind me. I took two steps forward  into the room with door now shut behind me and turned left toward the roshi. My hands were now cupped at my chest in the prayer position.

He sat on his silk mat,with legs crossed, in golden robe, perfectly still . All was completely quiet as I moved toward him . There was no mat for me and no pilliow for me to sit on . I took my position so close to him that there was no more than an inch of space between our knees. I looked directly into his eyes and said " My name is Terry Willis . My practice is counting the breaths." He was smiling and I was smiling. We sat perfectly motionless for several minutes looking directly into the eyes of the other before he spoke.

 "Do you sit well , he said ? " My reply was yes. He laughed and I laughed . "That is not easy to do", he said . I made no reply to his statement . We sat for several minutes in silence, each looking directly into the eyes of the other. Then the silence was broken and everything happend almost instantly. His last words to me were " borrow a watch from one of the monks and time your breaths". Immediatly after saying this, he reach quickly to the table on his left, picked up the bell and shook it gently. Ting! This gentle sound was as loud as thunder to me !

The ringing penetrated my entire being. I stood immediately and without taking my eyes from his eyes, backed out of the room, returning to my mat in the corridor.

Well ! This sesshin was not the type of atmosphere where you would just walk up to anyone and borrow a watch at any time without disturbing the others. Later in the afternoon, I did whisper to one of the monks when he was close by and borrowed his watch.

Sitting on my mat ; I looked at the watch I held in my hand, a very nice watch. I held it in the palm of my right hand and watched the second hand move for a few minutes only to realize just how rediculous this was, the timing of the breaths. The joke was on me. Very clever ! I put the watch in my pocket, cupped my hands and continued the normal breathing and counting without any furthur distraction.

During this late afternoon's continuous sitting sesshins, one person in the zendo started crying like a baby. Everyone could hear this crying, yet no one gave any acknowledgement that this was happening. We only sat doing our breathing .

Darkness soon approached . The evening had arrived, a moonless night. We would not leave the zendo until nine or ten PM when the air was again getting cooler in my sitting area.

The following morning, after only being allowed a few hours sleep and the waking to the sound of the drum again; I took my place on my mat in the same corridor. The air was cool, but not cold as on the previous morning. It was about four am on this final day of sesshin. . . Sunday. 

The time for each sitting period passed very quickly during this day. Breakfast and lunch breaks soon came and went . The first eight hours in this day in which many sitting sessions of zazen went by. . . were almost like the blink of an eye. There was the afternoon break for lunch and gardening. The two meals of this day had both been excellent and very much appreciated.

The sunshine felt good as I moved about barefooted outside doing some raking with a bamboo rake. When the drum sounded again; we all entered the zendo once more to take our seats on our assigned mats. Midway into this first sitting period after the yard break, tears started rolling down my cheeks. The feeling of this complete wholeness is not possible to describe. I continued to sit until the bell and more walking zazen began. When I was near the back door during the walking ; I turned to the left and walked outside into the fresh spring air.

There was a stone pathway leading to the white house next door. I walked to the front porch and took a seat on the front steps. All the others were still inside the zendo next door. As I sat on the steps; I could see everything at once as the sunshine warmed my legs and arms. Motionless I sat, taking in the splendor.

After a few moments; the roshi stood in front of me as I sat on the porch step. " Terry , come back inside " were his only words.

I followed him to the zendo's back entrance, walked inside, and took my place on my mat once again to count my breaths. . . one, two, three ..........

About three o'clock that same afternoon there was some chanting and bell ringing as the final ritual before all were dismissed. Sesshin ended.

One of the ladies had a reception in her upstairs apartment in which she played a few songs on the piano. Juice and cookies were served.

An hour later; I was sitting in my toyota station wagon, driving down the freeway, toward my home in Huntington Beach.

Commentary

Meditate daily ! Each day you will become more awake.

There are no journeys to take.

When the monk strikes your shoulders with the thick ruler; you will know exactly where you are .

No Links

Stay on the path ................