The Activation of Zen

My favorite Zen story starts with a Master walking down a road, carrying a sack on his back. A local wise man recognizes that this is a Zen Master and hurries out to greet him. The Master politely responds, but he keeps walking.  

Understanding that he only has a moment, the wise man says, “Please, Master, I must ask you a question. What is the realization of Zen?” 

At this, the Master stops, takes the bag off his shoulder, and sets in on the ground.  

Understanding this was his answer, the wise man boldly asked another question: “Then what is the activation of Zen?” 

The Master bends, picks up the bag, settles it on his shoulder, and walks on.  


To me, this story teaches about two powerful acts: 

  1. Setting Down the Bag 

I see the Master’s bag as a symbol of what we carry in life. Love and friendships, family and work. Being a person and interacting with people. Burdens and responsibilities.  

By putting it down, the Master relieves himself of the weight of his existence, the load of living a human life. With all of this off his shoulders, he can take a break. He can remember that there is rest from toiling, there is healing for pain, and that love is the balm of attachment.  

In this moment, a regular person could realize that some of the items in the bag are not really that heavy. Letting it down gives space to realize that some weight has been added, perhaps by excess worry or negative thinking.  

I’d like to think that this is a moment when things can be removed from the bag. Old thought patterns, neediness and jealousy, greed and disappointment. Even crusty dreams might finally get their rest on the side of the road.  

  1. Picking Up the Bag 

The Master activates Zen by picking the bag back up. I think this represents the total acknowledgment of living and acceptance of the conditions that we live in.  

Picking up the bag demonstrates that he is choosing the responsibilities and relationships he has. It shows that he wants to carry this weight, that he accepts what he chooses to carry. 

Indeed, the Master and the sack are one thing, even if it can be put down.  


If you’d like to read more of my philosophy, check out Tao of Thoreau.

Tao Lesson #3

I’ve been thinking about these ideas a lot recently:

Prevent trouble before it arises.
Put things in order before they exist.
The giant pine tree 
grows from a tiny sprout.
The journey of a thousand miles 
starts from beneath your feet. 

I tend to get a good idea, and rush into action with it. Although I get a lot accomplished, not having a clear plan can be a problem. When I hit a roadblock, it can take away my momentum, stalling the project.

If instead I had taken the time for a little planning, I may have anticipated the problems that could arise.

The second half is a tough lesson for me. Maybe I feel like I’m too far down the road of my journey to revert to having origin thoughts. I’m trying to see how this lesson applies to any new venture we embark on, even if it is an offshoot of something we have already been doing.

Looking at projects and problems as if they just began, or are constantly beginning. Original mind. I think this is something to try for, though I am not quite sure how to go about it.

Tao Lesson #3

I’m going to do just one line today. This particular quote really resonates with me because there are so many examples of it in my life:

“He who tries to shine dims his own light”

I lived this quote before I ever read it. When I went to college, it was a time of freedom and evolution. I was sheltered and unpopular in high school, so when things started to go my way in college, it went to my head. I would become arrogant at times, until I noticed how much this turned off those around me.

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Tao Lesson 2

I find this passage to be a very challenging one. Not in a sense of understanding it: the message is clearly stated. The challenge is in the ideas, and trying to activate them in my life. 

The Master stays behind; 

That is why she is ahead. 

She is detached from all things; 

That is why she is one with them. 

Because she has let go of herself, 

She is perfectly fulfilled. 

Tao te Ching often uses contradictory statements to expose the truth. The message is revealed by pondering the way that seemingly opposite ideas work together.  

One way to look at the idea of staying behind is to think about work. The Master is not rushing to achieve and when she does, she does seek approval for these achievements. Accomplishing the task is the goal. Simply do the thing that needs to be done and move on. Then the idea of being ahead is clearer because it is not about racing from task to task, but about effort and completion of the task in the moment. 

It seems impossible to be detached and still connected.  But what if detachment doesn’t mean ignoring or pushing things away? Instead, it is not asking more than can be given naturally. Let’s use personal relationships as an example. Being detached means allowing a person to be themselves. By trusting like this, the Sage shows she understands a person’s true nature. How can you be more connected than that? 

Letting go is tough for me. I cannot let go of myself: I am still the stage of many plays, and I crave an audience for my performance. Fulfillment is impossible when you need it from others. 

I am trying to learn this lesson. And I think I know how to apply it. I feel a different way calling me, but it means letting go to reach it.  

The quote is taken from the wonderful Stephen Mitchell translation of Tao the Ching.

If you are interested in Taoism, you might enjoy my book Tao of Thoreau.

Nature’s POWer

The emphasis on “POW” in the title is a bit of a joke, but also reveals what I want to say about Nature’s profound strength.

This picture shows that so effectively. Yes, this sprout did not shoot up with a comic book “POW!!!” Instead, what is revealed is the slow, implacable ability for this single green plant to break through a layer of asphalt. What a profound example of how persistently following the path of growth makes a being nearly irresistible.

Thoreau and the Taoists both talk about this strength. Thoreau wanted “to travel the only path I can, and that on which no power can resist me.” Asphalt is poured so its elements melt together and harden. They should stop a mere plant from sprouting. But that plant is doing what it must, what Nature demands of it, and no mere human concoction is going to stop its growth.

Today I am going to think with my sprout mind, and I am going to find the barriers that are stopping my growth. Then I’m going to find the natural path to overcome them.

Milestone!

I’ve reached another milestone on my publishing journey!

Four-hundred books! (That felt good to write out.)

Strangely, I have to force myself to celebrate this accomplishment. Part of the problem is that my publishing dreams have been so huge since I was a child, that it is hard for any reality to measure up.

What I’ve been doing is imagining them stacked up in forty piles of ten. Picturing this gives a geometry, a mass to what it means to have this many books out in the public.

This has been followed by, I think, a better visualization: 400 people actually owning and reading my book. That was what the dream was always about, if I strip away fantasies of amazing stardom and best-selling status.

People reading my words. What I have always wanted. What I am finally achieving.

Need a copy? Buy yours here: Tao of Thoreau – just 2.99 Kindle and 4.99 paperback.

This is what you shall do

I read Whitman’s poem last night. Really a worthwhile read.

This is what you shall do:
Love the earth and sun and the animals,
Despise riches, give alms to everyone that asks,
Stand up for the stupid and crazy,
Devote your income and labors to others,
Hate tyrants, argue not concerning God,
Have patience and indulgence toward the people,
Take off your hat to nothing known or unknown,
Or to any man or number of men,
Go freely with powerful uneducated persons,
And with the young and with the mothers of families,
Read these leaves in the open air,
Every season of every year of your life,
Reexamine all you have been told,
At school at church or in any book,
Dismiss whatever insults your own soul,
And your very flesh shall be a great poem,
And have the richest fluency not only in its words,
But in the silent lines of its lips and face,
And between the lashes of your eyes,
And in every motion and joint of your body.

A New Year’s Message from a Dying Tree

This picture is emblematic of how Nature teaches lessons. This tree appears dead at first glance, but there is that one living branch, somehow surviving out of a bole that is in the process of decay. 

The more I’m in the woods, the more I see how closely intertwined death and decay are with growth and abundance. It’s relatively obvious that decay feeds life; moldering earth gives birth to abundant plants.  

But this picture offers something deeper: the stubbornness of growth, the overpowering will of life and creation even amidst its likely end. 

It is an appropriate lesson for a new year. Turned into a metaphor, perhaps that tree is a cherished dream long held that is beginning to slip away. But there is that one branch that still lives, if you focus your energy and passion on it.  

May you find your dreams and focus your will on what you want and need in 2023.