Nothing Special: Lifting Zen

 Nothing Special: Everyday Zen and the Art of Lifting

In her seminal book, 'Nothing Special: Living Zen' by Charlotte Joko Beck, Beck writes, "Beyond the meditation cushion, where do you ultimately find the profound clarity, presence, and simple joy of Zen? Where it has always been - in everyday life, whether it's raising our kids, working in the office, or even cleaning the house."

Or, I might add, in the simple joy and surrender of lifting weights.

There's nothing special about lifting weights, not really.  It's a very simple exercise.  Pick weights up, put weights down, repeat - that's about it.  Of course, its the sheer simplicity and very Zen-like nature of lifting that does make it special, and therein lies its true worth.  And after doing it for a length of time, it simply becomes something that one does, but also something that one cannot but do.

Some posts ago, I wrote something very similar to this on the Zen-like practice of lifting weights, and I received an email from a reader - we'll call him Joe - and Joe said something akin to this: "You say there ain't nothin' special about lifting weights, and then later on you say somethin' to the effect that liftin' is special 'cause it's damn near a Zen practice.  So if it really is very much similar to all that fancy schmancy martial arts crap you spout sometimes, give regular folks such as me some tips for makin' liftin' a Zen practice."

Okay, Joe, fair enough.  So here goes...

First off, despite what you may think, there is really is nothing special about Zen, either.  So when I say that lifting weights is "nothing special" and then when I say that lifting weights is very Zen, I am really saying the exact same thing both times.  Lifting weights isn't special and lifting weights is Zen and Zen is nothing special.  Zen just is. Liftings weights simply is.

The problem is when people think that Zen is special or that lifting weights is special, and they then think that either one is going to somehow "help" them.  And usually by help them, these people think that lifting weights or Zen - and they especially think this with Zen - will somehow make them happy.  And so Zen and lifting, or both, are pursued with the belief and intent of achieving happiness.  But the happiness never comes.  In fact, it can't make them happy.  Why?  Well, I'm sorry to tell you this, but its the pursuit of happiness that keeps us as a human species trapped in endless cycles of disappointment and suffering.

You will never be happy if you think that happiness is achieved by anything external to you.  Sorry, but no amount of money or fast cars or hot women (sorry if all that sounds '80s-ish) will ever bring about happiness.  That's right, Gordon Gekko was dead wrong.  Greed is decidedly not good.  Never has been.  Never friggin' will be.

The deepest and most lasting forms of happiness are completely internal.  What are these things?  I can think of a few right off the top of my head: mindfulness, compassion, generosity, and gratefulness, to name but a few.  And so this is where Zen - and lifting weights oddly enough - can help.  Zen, and a Zennish form of lifting, allows you to come back to yourself, to that inner compass that points to the true north of mindfulness, compassion, joy, equanimity, loving-kindness, generosity, and gratitude. 

And if none of the above has helped so far, then here's a practical suggestion: The next time that you lift, relax and be aware that you are lifting.  Take several deep breaths at the start of the lifting session, relax your whole body and mind, and become aware of all that you do.  Be aware of the weight belt as you cinch it to your waist.  Be aware of the chalk as you rub it on your hands.  Be aware of the barbell as you grip it in your chalked hands.  And be aware of the whole of your body as you perform the exercise, whatever that exercise may be.

Zen isn't very special, neither is lifting weights, which might just make both of them two of the most precious activities that you can perform.