Budo Zen and Hard Work

Budo Zen, Just as with the Martial Arts, is Hard Work but It's Worth It!

In my last essay on Budo Zen, I discussed how Zen, real Zen, is hard work. I would like to explore this idea a little more in this present essay, especially as to how this applies to, and is good for, the budoka or other martial artist.

Martial practitioner or not, most who take an interest in Zen don’t stick with it. Not once they realize the hard work that is involved. This shouldn’t surprise anyone. Not really. That’s just human nature. But what does surprise me is when actual Zennists, or perhaps practitioners of any form of Buddhism, believe that more and more people in our modern world will become keenly interested in the dharma. Some believe that Zen will somehow grow into one of the west’s most popular religions. I’m not buying it. Never will. If it does become that popular then trust me, it won’t be real Zen of any type.

Apparently, I’m not the only one that feels this way. In doing some “research” for this essay—i.e., scouring the internet for various articles—I came across the following quote from the Tibetan nun Mindrolling Jetsum Khandro Rinpoche:

“In the initial romantic stage, you may be looking through rose-tinted glasses. After that, you will see the hard work involved, hard work that will be done by nobody but you. This is why interest in Buddhism increases at first and then dips—and this dip is steep, because hard work will never make Buddhism very popular… Moreover, Buddhism is the only philosophy that doesn’t have anyone to ascribe blame to but oneself for what is wrong. Nor is there anyone but oneself responsible for producing what is good.”

Even though we are a nation—in America, at least—of “go-getters,” a nation that believes in self-reliance and in “pulling ourselves up by our own bootstraps” we will take, and in fact want, a shortcut whenever one is available. We want to take a pill to lose our belly fat. We want to find that one magical program that will suddenly give us muscular arms, a ripped six-pack, or a glorious-looking butt. And in martial arts, there have always been seekers after some “special technique” or “secret training manual” that will somehow imbue the martial practitioner with an “invincible” technique. So when we take up Zen—or, really, any type of “spiritual” practice—we want it be instant, or, at the very least, we want it to fast-track us on the way to peace, calmness, clarity of mind; whatever it is that we believe we will “get” out of it.

But real martial artists, real athletes, and real trainers know that hard work, dedication, commitment, and consistency are the most important aspects to success. Zen is no different, and if you will but dedicate yourself, you may come to actually enjoy the hard work involved. It can be akin to when you first started martial arts training. When you start, you don’t necessarily enjoy the process, the training itself. Yet you do enjoy the results. But eventually, in order to stick with it, to make martial training a lifelong pursuit, you have to completely submit to, and fall in love with, the actual process, the daily grind and daily training. If you have been training for multiple years, decades even, then you know this.

So it is in Zen.

At first, you simply want something out of practice. It can be “enlightenment” or “awakening.” Whatever it is that you think is going to happen when you take up zazen. But as it is with first love, you are seeing through those rose-tinted glasses, and not seeing everything clearly. But you will see clearly. Eventually. And you do at some point. This is the point at which many practitioners will quit. But if you will continue, you will be rewarded with a mind that makes all the hard effort worth it—an imperturbable mind. In budo language, this is fudoshin, often translated as “immovable mind” or even “unmoving heart.” (Shin can be translated into English as either “mind” or “heart.”)

To acquire this immovable, imperturbable heart/mind means there can be no shortcuts. As with martial arts training, you have to commit to daily practice. Even though martial arts training is more physical, you may find that it is easier, at least for your mind. At first, you may even have lofty ideas and thoughts about seated meditation, but you quickly find that it’s much harder than you initially thought.

If you have practiced meditation for any lengthy period of time, even if it wasn’t technically-speaking zazen, then you understand this. And if you’re just starting out, then you will quickly discover how difficult meditation can be. But it’s only as hard as we make it.

Even though zazen is hard work, it is simple. Simply sit in your meditation posture and let whatever arises arise, without changing it or trying to control it. This is sometimes referred to as non-meditation. There is no attempt to control things, no attempt to concentrate exclusively on one thing—such as the breath, or a meditation image, or a mantra. Don’t get me wrong, you notice your breath, your inhalation and your exhalation. But you also notice other things. Here is how the late Zen teacher Charlotte Joko Beck describes the basics of zazen in her wonderful book “Everyday Zen: Love and Work”:

“Once we have assumed our best posture (which should be balanced, easy), we just sit there, we do zazen. What do I mean by ‘just sit there’? It’s the most demanding of activities… What’s going on? All sorts of things. A tiny twitch in your left shoulder; a pressure on your side. Notice your face for a moment. Feel it. Is it tense anywhere? Around the mouth, around the forehead? Now move down a bit. Notice your neck, just feel it. Then your shoulders, back, chest, abdominal area, your arms, thighs. Keep feeling whatever you find. And feel your breath as it comes and goes. Don’t try to control it, just feel it. Our first instinct is to try to control the breath. Just let your breath be as it is. It may be high in your chest, it may be in the middle, it may be low. It may feel tense. Just experience it as it is. Now just feel all of that. If a car goes by outside, hear it. If a plane flies overhead, notice that. You might hear a refrigerator going on and off. Just be that. That’s all you have to do, absolutely all you have to do: experience that and just stay with it.”

When many practitioners realize that’s all there is to zazen, they don’t like it. They rebel against it. And once they realize that just sitting and being with life as it is is hard work, then they really rebel against it. “You mean to tell me that it’s hard work and there is nothing to do and nowhere to go?” is a common enough refrain.

That’s exactly what makes it such hard work. You are working hard to realize that nothing to do and nowhere to go is your living reality. There is no escape. There is only the present moment. And whatever arises. But if you will do it and stick with it, the results can be life-changing.



In my next essay on Budo Zen, we will discuss this nothing to do and nowhere to go, and how this “goalless goal” can be transformative for your spiritual, martial, and your everyday life.




Sources

“Charting the Four Immeasurables” by Mindrolling Jetsun Khandro Rinpoche, from the Fall 2023 issue of Tricycle: The Buddhist Review

“Everday Zen: Love and Work” by Charlotte Joko Beck, edited by Steve Smith, published by HarperCollins