arcticorangutan on Nostr: Hearing the beating of my heart: I once spent an extended period practicing Zazen in ...
Hearing the beating of my heart:
I once spent an extended period practicing Zazen in the Japanese Zen monastery Antaiji.
At one point during my stay, each of the residents of the monastery had to give a 20 minute lecture on their experience in Antaiji or some Zen writing that had touched them.
One of my most memorable moments occurred during one of these lectures. One of my fellows, a Japanese history student named Takeo, who was my age and who had arrived on the same day as me, was speaking about the reasons why he had decided to join the monastery.
Unlike me Takeo was not planning to stay for a couple of months. He had committed himself to becoming a monk. The reason, he said, was that he wanted to “hear the beating of my heart”. And as he said this, a tear rolled down his cheek.
In this moment I realized that he was not spewing the types of platitudes and cliches we grow accustomed to. Takeo meant what he said and to witness it was beautiful.
I once spent an extended period practicing Zazen in the Japanese Zen monastery Antaiji.
At one point during my stay, each of the residents of the monastery had to give a 20 minute lecture on their experience in Antaiji or some Zen writing that had touched them.
One of my most memorable moments occurred during one of these lectures. One of my fellows, a Japanese history student named Takeo, who was my age and who had arrived on the same day as me, was speaking about the reasons why he had decided to join the monastery.
Unlike me Takeo was not planning to stay for a couple of months. He had committed himself to becoming a monk. The reason, he said, was that he wanted to “hear the beating of my heart”. And as he said this, a tear rolled down his cheek.
In this moment I realized that he was not spewing the types of platitudes and cliches we grow accustomed to. Takeo meant what he said and to witness it was beautiful.