ZEN & ME

I have been a food and travel writer for nine years now. And, no two days of my life are alike. It is cruel punishment to confine me to an office setting, to wear a suit, or to force me to attend meetings. My attention span can be likened to that of a five-year old. But this outgoing, energetic, adventurous, non-typical artist found solace in zen meditation two Decembers ago.

This otherwise bubbly person was for the first time in her life faced with deep sadness and major personal problems. I found myself crying for days. It was a pain my family or friends could not ease or take away. It was something I alone should face. Upon a friend’s casual invitation, I joined him to sit in Benpres building one Thursday night in December, two years ago.

Sitting with my sadness was not easy. In fact, it was scary to sit on my cushion. Without television, books, music, work, noise, or conversation to distract me, there was no escaping all the pain I was going through. I learned to be present with every breath- to breathe in and out.

I kept doing this practice even if I was back in Australia. I would sit every day alone in the morning prior to my first cup of coffee. And every Sunday I would sit with the sangha for two hours prior to attending Sunday mass. Zen got me through the most difficult phase in my life. When things were all too overwhelming, sitting reminded me all that mattered is that very breath. For that very breath was all I have, not the breath of the past or the future.

This hyperactive artist still struggles with every sit. When I am not present to my breathing, sitting is very difficult. It is tempting to burst out laughing, to be distracted by hunger, or to be bothered by an intense scent, or to get bored. Countless thoughts still come through my head. Emotions still fill my heart. But I still come to sit every Thursday. Often no words are exchanged. Yet, by quietly sitting next to each other, positive energy is transmitted.

As the lights are dimmed, darkness fills the room. I notice the silhouette of my shadow become distinctly visible. The silence is no longer deafening. I no longer fear the intensity of my thoughts or feelings. And if there is pain, it no longer scares me. After all, every breath is all I have. And that is all that matters.

8/10/07.11:43am