What is Zen
Sorry this is a bit off topic, but it turns out that there is an interesting online community of people writing about the intersection of Zen and parenting. As I've posted on the takomapakk list, I have been receiving training in Zen for a while, and I do find it helpful as a parent. But I'm really posting this because I have a chance to win a free book by my favorite current author, Karen Maezen Miller. (There is a contest here about defining what Zen is, implicitly in a parenting context). So if this hasn't convinced you to check out the latest Hathor comic, read on....
To me,
Zen is the name of the formal meditation practice I started after quitting my job to stay home (so to speak) with my kids after reading a book about Buddhism and realizing I needed to attend to right occupation (Buddhist speak for "have a good job") first and most urgently. I figured if I were committed enough to Buddhism to quit my job, I ought to meditate in some organized fashion.
Zen is not wanting to calm a head-banging toddler down and clean up the spilt milk and hurled oatmeal on the floor myself, without assistance from said toddler; realizing I am wasting energy by looking for some good other than the good that is offered; feeling a bit of a laugh; and cleaning that milk and oatmeal up (perhaps before or perhaps after giving the toddler words for his renewed discovery that the head hurts after banging).
Zen is sitting on a zafu as two sleepy (I wrote "too sleepy" at first) children drift off. Remembering my teacher's admonition that zazen cannot be interrupted, I offer the odd minimal comforting response ("Yes, it's dark." "Mmmm." "We'll talk more tomorrow, sleep well."). As they take longer to fall asleep, I am able to enjoy the extra time sitting. As they fall asleep faster, I am able to enjoy the sound of their breathing mixed in with the rhythm of my own breath.
Zen is not being the most patient person, but knowing a source of patience.
Zen is seeing that I'm not very good at arranging flowers, and yet plunging into arranging today's flowers. I am constantly doing jobs that my education and experience have left me terribly unprepared for, and I am so often amazed to discover that doing these jobs badly but with attention is indeed just perfect.
Zen is getting irritated at the outrageous, performance artist like act of my daughter, seeing that irritation, seeing that act, and then seeing the irritation fade as my body flushes with pride at her cleverness, her fearless taunting of power, and her love of a good joke. And then letting some right speech (Buddhist speak for words that don't have any negative effects and must be spoken) be spoken about how that is funny, but we still need to finish setting the table for dinner.
Zen is running to school with a still sleepy 35 pound 2 year old kid in the stroller, feeling the wind blow, seeing the lines in the sidewalk slip by, as my feet lift up and down as my breath gets hot and quick, and watching all this with stillness and amazement. A stillness that doesn't mind the final uphill stretch, doesn't expect the criticizing parents, the mean kids, or the fighting that will ensue when the nap-shorted two year old starts interacting with the exhausted from a day of regimental public school six year old.
For me, above all, Zen is, in the words of C.S. Lewis, not holding onto the image of the good that was expected in the face of the good that is offered. It is plunging into the good that is offered, plunging into the work that needs doing, which are the same. It is living with the experience that each moment is of the utmost importance, a matter of life and death, and isn't that just so funny? This very blog is of the utmost importance, how silly is that! Our children show us how brief and how interesting this fortunate existence is. I have a seven year old now, and I clearly remember being seven. The limitations of thoughts to capture reality are obvious in the face of such a fact, in the face of a seven year old.