State of Mind |
Many years ago, Josho Roshi said to me something to the effect of, “There is nothing more important than tending to your state of mind.” The longer I practice, the more I find this to be true. Everything we know about and experience in the world is filtered through our state of mind. Our mind is both the canvas and the palette with which we paint the reality we experience. Our mind is the place from which the separate objects we are perceiving emerge out of an otherwise single reality. Does this mean we can create whatever reality we want? No, of course not, not without consequences. What we perceive in our minds co-arises with what is actually occurring “out in the world,” but we can only experience it through our limited perspective. Our state of mind plays a monumental and imposing role in how we perceive this complex, ultimately indescribable reality and how we respond to it as it unfolds. In the very first stanzas of the Dhammapada, a collection of sayings attributed to the Buddha, it states: All experience is preceded by mind, So it is beneficial to get to know our own minds and our biases to the best of our ability. This is our practice. It isn’t possible to be aware of all our biases. When engulfed in an environment of bias, we may not recognize that we hold it, like a fish may not be aware that any environment other than water exists. It is also beneficial to know our moods and emotions, the ways they ebb and flow, and how they affect our behavior. When we are angry, it is helpful to know we are angry, and when we are sad, anxious, at peace, or elated, it is beneficial to know we are feeling these things. I don’t mean predicting how we will feel or should feel in response to something. I mean knowing through somatic experience what we are actually experiencing, even if we don’t have words to describe it accurately. This sounds simplistic, but I know I have been caught off guard at times when my words or actions expressed emotions I didn’t even realize I was experiencing until I expressed them with my behavior. According to Thich Nhat Hanh, We have to look deeply into our perceptions in order to be free of them. Then, what has been a perception becomes an insight, a realization of the path. This is neither perception nor non-perception. It is a clear vision, seeing things as they are….Touching reality deeply, knowing what is going on inside and outside of ourselves, is the way to liberate ourselves from the suffering that is caused by wrong perceptions. This isn’t about a specific ideology; it is insight into the reality of this life. When confronted with the realities and issues of this life, I can find myself developing strong opinions about what I perceive, and I can forget how much my view of the world is colored by the palette I have both inherited and developed over time through various causes and conditions. All our life experiences color how we see the world. Our genetic, hormonal, and chemical makeup, and our cultural, religious, and socioeconomic background, all color how we see the world. The perspectives of our parents, our family dynamics, our emotions, and our own choices up until this point in time, all of it, color how we see this world. I forget this sometimes as I dig down deeper into a specific view about something, and I begin to angrily think that surely my way of seeing things is the only right way to see things. When I discover that I have become fixed in this way, I recognize that I have not been caring for my state of mind. Formulating a fixed view is easy to do because a fixed view is simple and feels stable. It is somewhere to rest in a constantly changing reality. It can also help define our identity, which can feel reassuring, thereby reinforcing our sense of self. My sense of the ideal state of mind from a Buddhist perspective, however, is to be comfortable with impermanence and complex co-arising, and it is settled by resting in the spaciousness of these things. It also recognizes that our perspective is very limited. The ideal state of mind stays soft, open, and malleable, humble about what we may not know. This state of mind has room for creative responsiveness. It is joyful, equanimous, and has a quality of care towards all beings. In this ideal state of mind, there is no clinging to a small I or mine. It stays in touch with the one seamless fabric of reality from which nothing is excluded, while having awareness of its unique position in this fabric. Sometimes, to help me tend to a stuck state of mind and return to spaciousness, I can simply return to being fully present with my physical being and sensory experience in the present moment. Doing this always helps still my mind. As we say in the ordination ceremony, Good Disciple of Buddha When moving through the day, I find my way back to being fully present through my breathing or by bringing my attention to my feet. There is something about the sensitivity of my feet, how they are touching the entirety of this whole earth, and the fact that they are the farthest point from my brain that often makes them the most effective entry point into non-discursive awareness of the present moment for me. Finding my breath or feet in this way is how I get in touch with the experience we practice in zazen. Our work as bodhisattvas is to bring the practice of zazen into all of our activities. Suzuki Roshi once used the phrase, “just receive the letter from the world of emptiness.” Sometimes it can be more like a quick text. We can receive these letters and texts all throughout the day, in and among all the decision-making and discriminating that allows us to function in the world. I see the letters from emptiness, and this returning to wordless awareness as touching prajna—the wisdom beyond wisdom. The wisdom that knows suchness or emptiness. It is a way to “keep one foot on the ocean floor always,” as Katagiri Roshi said somewhere. The ocean floor is the place of stillness below all the waves. In the introduction to his book, Zen Chants, Kaz Tanahashi writes, Our life may be seen as a dance in which one foot represents pluralism and the other singularism….Can we see our dance in life and meditation as something other than switching between these seeming opposites? When the dancing flows naturally, singularism and pluralism are no longer in opposition. The opposites merge, allowing us to dance freely and gracefully. This is the manifestation of wisdom beyond wisdom, which is a wholesome experience of freedom from, and integrity in, pluralistic and singularistic understanding and action. I think this is the essence of what Zen practice is asking of us. It is the Merging of Difference and Unity. It is the Genjokoan. The koan of how to live our life. According to Okumura Roshi in his book Realizing Genjokoan, Genjō means “reality actually and presently taking place,” and kōan means “absolute truth that embraces relative truth,” or “a question that true reality asks of us.” So we can say that genjōkōan means “to answer the question from true reality through the practice of our everyday activity.” What is true reality asking of me? This feels like an important question to carry. It is easy to get stuck in a specific perspective or opinion and forget that this view is experienced from a limited perspective. To want others to see things from the same perspective as us is a denial of the reality of how they are experiencing the world. To function according to the teachings in the one reality we all share, it doesn’t really work to pretend that the parts we disagree with aren’t real. No matter how deluded I may believe a person’s perspective is, it doesn’t change the fact that they hold this perspective. Their perspective evolved through complex causes and conditions just like mine did. So, whether I like it or not, there are people who see the world very differently from me. They do not follow the Buddha’s teachings and don’t care about the same things I care about. I think it was Sojun Roshi who once said, “Don’t expect others to be you.” Since this is the reality of our existence, we have to decide how to proceed within this reality. How do I live according to my deepest intentions within this landscape? If a bodhisattva vows to live for the benefit of all beings, that means ALL beings—how do I do that? I don’t think it is something I can know as a concept; I believe we have to figure out how to live it moment by moment. Suzuki Roshi said, Because we have some particular view of life, without knowing what it means in its true sense, we are caught by those views of life, or a teaching or a philosophy, whatever religion, whatever it is. We have to pay attention to not being swept up into particular views, especially ones based on theoretical information. Genro-an Tetsugen Inoue in the introduction to his father’s book, The Formless Record of the Transmission of Illumination, wrote, “If you ask about the reality of the world under your feet and the nature of the mind of the Way, the answer can only be found in what you are touching now. There is no other way to ask or do anything about it.” If the answer can only be found in what we are touching now, this for me means returning to my physical experience. Finding my breath and my feet touching the earth. Returning to the awareness we practice in zazen. To do this over and over is to practice the dance that Kaz Tanahashi speaks of between singularism and pluralism. It is how to live the Genjokoan. In his fascicle San Sui Kyo, Dogen writes: “…the views of all beings are not the same. You should question this matter now. Are there many ways to see one thing, or is it a mistake to see many forms as one thing? You should pursue this beyond the limit of pursuit.” Dogen doesn’t tell us what view to have. He asks us to question this matter now. He admonishes us to pursue it beyond the limit of pursuit. I can’t help but think that to question it “beyond the limit of pursuit” is to experience the wisdom beyond wisdom—the wisdom that moves beyond discursive thinking, experiences expansiveness, and lets go of the tight grasp of a limited perspective. What I perceive Dogen to be saying in the passage above is that to follow Buddha’s Way, we not only recognize that there are many ways that people view the world, and those views are all limited and the results of causes and conditions, but also that all views cause various levels of suffering. And they are all part of this one life we are living out together. I find it helpful to remember that the views of those I disagree with, as well as my own views, are all tainted with the ignorances and poisons the Buddha taught about. This is why sitting in zazen is such a very important activity for me. Zazen is like going home. It is the vibrant concerted effort of being stillness and simply experiencing the seamless fabric of reality, moment after moment, without separating the fabric out into various objects. We sit in zazen and relax the discriminating mind. It is the moment-by-moment practice of watching what the mind is reaching for and pushing away. When I get up from zazen, I feel such a deep gratitude that I have this practice and the Bodhisattva Vows to guide me. Throughout the day, we can practice returning to our experience of body and mind the same way we do in zazen. We can breathe deeply and contribute calm and steadiness in chaotic moments. We can work to make decisions from our deepest intentions instead of reactions. To live according to our deepest intentions requires Right effort. Right effort of the Buddha’s Eight-fold Noble Path is often articulated as Four-fold Right Effort. The four practices are: 1. Preventing the arising of unwholesome mental states that have not yet arisen. In other words, right effort means to take care of our state of mind. In Buddhist thought, wholesome mental states are characterized by mindful awareness, energy, joy, concentration, and equanimity. If you think about it, when confronted with anger, greed, hatred, and division, just to manifest these qualities has a subversive and rebellious quality. The question I carry is how to have these wholesome states of mind no matter what conditions test me. That’s the practice, isn’t it? If it were easy, we would live in a peaceful world. In all schools of Buddhism, wisdom and compassion function together like two wings of a bird. When I consider the teachings about Four-fold Right Effort above, I find that it supports my hunch that I will create the most benefit in the world if I first care for my state of mind, which encourages spaciousness and flexible creative ways of responding. It also inspires me to focus my energies on what I care for, and not on hating and being reactionary to what incites anger and fear within me. The more we practice returning to our breath and our physical being, the more we develop the habit of returning. The more often we return in this way, the closer we come to the dancing that Kaz Tanahashi spoke of. In returning to our physical presence and finding this ok-ness in various moments throughout the day, it gives us a sense of spaciousness and groundedness that help us respond when things are difficult. We have practice with this. We have practice noticing our state of mind and recognizing some of our many delusions. We have practice sitting with an upright, aware, and open body, which encourages an upright, aware, and open mind. Sojun Roshi said, “To sit upright in the center of the empty circle as a vehicle for light is the Zen student’s life. The cycle of continuous practice, of sitting zazen and allowing that selfless freedom to be expressed in daily life, is the turning of the wheel and the basis for harmony.” To engage in this effort is to care for our state of mind. Let’s continue this practice and allow it to guide us. Copyright © 2026 Zenki Kathleen Batson |