If there is one defining feature of Zen, is the emphasis on the posture while in meditation. Universally, Zen teachers are strikingly upright and expansive. And this emphasis can also be found in Japanese Zen teachings.
This Blog is about how to sit upright. For many it may sound silly. Many think it happens "naturally" or comes with experience without any effort. Some might think they already sit upright just fine, thank you very much. Others might say "Well, I feel my body and rely on the sensations to guide me. I can feel when I'm leaning over, and I can feel my self making an adjustment, and then I feel upright. If I feel upright I am upright."
It's this last group that I want to talk to. The fundamental assumption in this blog is that the sensation we get from our bodies is not a reliable basis upon which to make decisions about how to do something. You may feel like you are leaning one way, when in fact you are not. You may feel tightness around your chest when it may, or may not be, tight.
I have lots of examples from my own life, but I have not shared them because I'm sure it would not convince anyone.
This post is based on an article suggested by a reader, Tim Kjeldsen. He suggested reading:
http://ipcoregon.com/pdf/pain_and_the_neuromatrix_in_the_brain.pdf
I have found it very interesting and highly recommend it. It has to do with chronic pain, but the theory of the existence of a "Body-Self Neuromatrix" has relevance here. The article from the Journal of Dental Education by Ronald Melzack, Ph.D who is a professor Emeritus at McGill University. Apparently he is an expert in phantom limb phenomena. This is when a person feels a perfectly real limb, that is not actually present. Since this non existent limb can hurt, brain researches have had to throw out the old Cartesian concept of pain as a sensation produced by tissue pathology.
The body-self neuromatrix is thought to be a group of very complex, widely distributed, multiple, communicating, cyclical processing neural networks. The inputs into this matrix include all the sensory inputs, but also cognitive inputs such as cultural inputs, personality, past experiences, etc. Inputs also include from the the endocrine and immune systems. Obviously complicated, but hey, it's brain science.
While the input and output from the body-self neuromatrix sound very complicated, the functions sound are pretty simple. It decides "Am I OK?". If it decides "Not OK" it triggers pain perception, actions and alters stress regulation. I'll write more about this later. But more germain to this blog entry is that the output from the body-self neuromatrix is projected to a sentient neural hub - in which the stream of nerve impulses is converted into a continually changing stream of awareness. This is where the experience of movement is created.
To back up a bit, I used to believe that "I" exist somewhere in my brain. I get accurate sensory information directly from my body and make decisions based on this. Brain science does not support this at all. Setting aside for now the location of any "I" in my brain, I clearly am not sensing my body at all. Sensations from my body are constantly mixed up with a whole lot of other inputs, mixed and remixed, and fully processed. When done it goes to the sentient neural hub and it is here that the stream of awareness and experience of movement is created.
I had to think about this a bit. And please read the article for yourself to be sure I'm getting this right. When concepts are complicated I reach for metaphors. I hesitate to do this because I have to acknowledge my limits to think clearly and write effectively. Sorry. Here is the way I see it: Trying to feel my body while sitting in order to figure out if I'm upright is like figuring out what is happening in the middle east by watching a powerpoint presentation on the middle east given by a EU prime minister. What the powerpoint presentation tells me is based on intelligence from the middle east, but also politics, economics, cultural issues, etc. Will the powerpoint give me a good idea of what is going on? Uh, maybe. Is it adequate to make a decision to go to war? Yeah, I'm thinking WMD here. Is this slideshow adequate to make decisions to "adjust" your posture?
There are two other articles I've read recently that have moved me. One was from a recent issue of Buddhadharma that talked about the Heart Sutra, which is the most commonly recited teaching at the zen groups that I have attended. It is a simple but uncompromising denial of the inherent nature of anything and everything. There is nothing with an abiding separate self. Everything is empty.
It is relatively easy to see how our powerpoint presentation is empty. But what about my eyes? My ears, nose, body and mind? Where is the solid reality in my ideas of myself or the sensations and stimuli?
The other wonderful article from Buddhadharma is by Reb Anderson regarding the "three turnings of the wheel", which really helps to organize the above. The first turning has to do with the four noble truths: there are real problems in life, there is a reason for these problems and ways to help resolve them. The second turning is the teaching on emptiness of all things. The third turning combines the two teaching and enables us to act.
The AT explanes how to physical sit and how to bring our practice into everyday life. Unlike yoga, the AT is based on intention and non-doing. Like zen sitting it is based on a fundamental deep acceptance of the present moment - of who you are. Both the AT and Zen are also in step with the body-self neuromatix theory.
Wednesday, August 22, 2012
Monday, July 9, 2012
A Few Thoughts on Improving the Use of the Self
By "good use" I mean reliably completing a task efficiently, accurately, safely and reliably. Maybe "good use" should also enable us to learn new tasks quickly and to undo unwanted habits. Here is my feeble attempt to be more classical: Good use is being able to do the right thing when confronted with a stimulus that usually puts you wrong. I'll say that this includes ones' responses to emotional stimuli. Considering that some people define happiness as doing a task well, I think that good use is important.
I've been telling people that students of the AT learn how to use themselves better. It seems like a transparent and simple statement but people always look at me strangely. They look like they have no clue about what I'm talking about. Why is it hard to grasp the phrase "learning how to use yourself better"? Most tools I buy come with some instructions. Every tool has a proper way to use it; and poor use of the tool leads to inefficient, perhaps dangerous use. Proper use of a good tool leads to great satisfaction. Why is it so weird to think of the body as a tool? Is it not the most important tool? Is it reasonable to aggressively pursue any instructions?
I made a huge error in the above paragraph. I made the assumption (or perpetuated a common wrong presumption) that "use of the self" is equivalent to the "use of the body". I'm ashamed - it's a bad habit of mine. When I say stimulus I mean anything that prompts some kind of response, be it a thought, feeling or physical action. Speaking of the self as a unified self - where body, mind, feelings are not seen as separate - taxes my very modest abilities. I find it very hard to be concrete, to give examples and I fear being vague or intellectual. My readers deserve better. Oh well, I might as well be thorough in making my mistake.
To help me grasp what "the use of the self" means I've heard AT teachers use analogies such as 'teaching us to drive an automobile without the parking break'. Or that 'the AT shows us how to not stand on the garden hose while watering the lawn'. Analogies such as these create a feeling that an idea is being communicated, but I'm suspicious that analogies actually say very little - at best. More likely they are misleading.
It seems we spend a lot of time on improving the self-as-a-tool, but no time thinking about how to use it better. We improve the tool by sharpening it with Tai Chi, tempering it with yoga, oiling it with massage, elongating it with yoga, and allowing the chiropractor and Rolfer to align it. This is all real, real good. But what about how we grip the knife? How much pressure to use? At what angle? It's not an either/or question. Cooking schools teach both sharpening and knife use technique. We can argue about which is more important, but I think good use is more fundamental. Good use allows one to enter into any new situation with the best possible advantage. And every situation is a new situation.
Perhaps the "use of the self" seems like an odd concept because we have never heard of anyway to improve our use. With no conceivable way to improve the "use of the self" we naturally find some way to consider the task unimportant. Well, given how easily the internet has made information on the AT acessible to teachers of all stripes there is no excuse for this ignorance.
Maybe you believe that you can use feelings somehow to guide you to learn or relearn an activity. Maybe you think you feel when you are not sitting up straight. Maybe you think that you can improve your use of your body by divining the meaning of the feelings you get while sitting. I tried that for 20 years and failed. Ok, sure, you think that I'm a loser and you aren't. But take a moment and look around the meditation hall at the end of a long sitting. Everyone is bent and twisted and leaning. And they all feel they are sitting up pretty straight. Maybe you think you're different. OK, I won't challenge you. Just consider that using your interpretations and ideas about the meaning of the sensations that you have gotten in the past are not useful in guiding your present use.
My AT teacher suggested that the notion that ones feeling can reliably provide a basis for improved use is very common among those starting to study the AT. It's very hard for me to believe. Maybe I should just skip this topic since I've written about it elsewhere. But I'll say here that stimulus provides information to help one decide what next to do. But it does not help you to actually DO anything. Sensation or feeling only provides feedback on what is going on in the present moment. To think about the stimulus that you have had in the past, make decisions about its meaning, and use those decisions as a basis to inform your present use is just crazy, it's nuts. I get that you might not know what else to do, and to abandon such craziness is scary. But there is a much better way.
But it seems that few have taken a step back and considered if there is anything one can do to improve the ability to learn how to do things. To improve piano lessons I would take lessons and practice, practice, practice. If I don't succeed at first I'll just keep trying. A piano teacher does not teach you how to learn, they will only teach you how to play the piano. Who teaches you how to learn? I don't want to minimize the effects that training, dedication, will power, nutrition, genetics, good coaching, family support, etc have on good use, but I am talking about more fundamental issues.
Why is it that some people just "make it look easy." They can make a difficult task look effortless. One mark of mastering any task is that there is nothing extra being done. When one muscle group is contracting the antagonistic muscles are relaxed. There is no tension. Look at Michael Jordan, stream a Astaire-Rogers film. As you watch there is some part of your brain ("mirror neurons") that creates the sensation of same movements in your brain - and is a sublime feeling.
One feature of that might be found in Astaire-Rogers-Jordan at peak performance or use is that they are rather present. They are not daydreaming or obsessed with a particular outcome. They are 'in the moment'. They are more attentive to the means where-by they are acting, and not so concerned about the gaining a particular end. Sure, there is a big commitment to winning or making a great movie, but they are able to set it aside while enguaged with the task. It's a nuanced task to set aside a strongly desired goal (WIN!!) to 'be in the moment'. An athlete might refer to this as 'the zone'. This might also be a feature of what Buddhist refer to as samadhi.
There might be other features of good use. Try tapping your head with one hand, nice and rhythmically. Not too tough to do. Now try adding on, at the same time, rubbing you belly with the other hand. Surprisingly hard to do? Do you feel your body tense as you try harder? Once you do it, once it really clicks in, does you body feel loose and relaxed? Does it feel like you learned something brand new, or did you just manage to relax enough to let it happen by itself? Now try speeding up one hands' activity. Do you feel the tension return along with the stimulus to speed up? Did everything fall apart? Anytime you try to make an improvement does the tension come back? What I find is that whenever I try to change anything I become more tense. The very impulse to making an effort to improve creates tension and tightness in my body.
FM Alexander seems to have found this as well - and was quite exasperated trying to improve on his customary activity without tensing up. Finally, he developed a technique where one learns to inhibit the desire to do an activity while directing ones self not to tense up, and to continue to inhibit and direct right up to the point of doing the activity. Or any activity. Or all activities.
I don't know if a teacher of the Alexander technique would agree with my assessments here, but I think it's a simple yet classic explanation of the technique. What is more interesting is that it is a complete explanation of how to sit zazen.
I've been telling people that students of the AT learn how to use themselves better. It seems like a transparent and simple statement but people always look at me strangely. They look like they have no clue about what I'm talking about. Why is it hard to grasp the phrase "learning how to use yourself better"? Most tools I buy come with some instructions. Every tool has a proper way to use it; and poor use of the tool leads to inefficient, perhaps dangerous use. Proper use of a good tool leads to great satisfaction. Why is it so weird to think of the body as a tool? Is it not the most important tool? Is it reasonable to aggressively pursue any instructions?
I made a huge error in the above paragraph. I made the assumption (or perpetuated a common wrong presumption) that "use of the self" is equivalent to the "use of the body". I'm ashamed - it's a bad habit of mine. When I say stimulus I mean anything that prompts some kind of response, be it a thought, feeling or physical action. Speaking of the self as a unified self - where body, mind, feelings are not seen as separate - taxes my very modest abilities. I find it very hard to be concrete, to give examples and I fear being vague or intellectual. My readers deserve better. Oh well, I might as well be thorough in making my mistake.
To help me grasp what "the use of the self" means I've heard AT teachers use analogies such as 'teaching us to drive an automobile without the parking break'. Or that 'the AT shows us how to not stand on the garden hose while watering the lawn'. Analogies such as these create a feeling that an idea is being communicated, but I'm suspicious that analogies actually say very little - at best. More likely they are misleading.
Perhaps the "use of the self" seems like an odd concept because we have never heard of anyway to improve our use. With no conceivable way to improve the "use of the self" we naturally find some way to consider the task unimportant. Well, given how easily the internet has made information on the AT acessible to teachers of all stripes there is no excuse for this ignorance.
Maybe you believe that you can use feelings somehow to guide you to learn or relearn an activity. Maybe you think you feel when you are not sitting up straight. Maybe you think that you can improve your use of your body by divining the meaning of the feelings you get while sitting. I tried that for 20 years and failed. Ok, sure, you think that I'm a loser and you aren't. But take a moment and look around the meditation hall at the end of a long sitting. Everyone is bent and twisted and leaning. And they all feel they are sitting up pretty straight. Maybe you think you're different. OK, I won't challenge you. Just consider that using your interpretations and ideas about the meaning of the sensations that you have gotten in the past are not useful in guiding your present use.
My AT teacher suggested that the notion that ones feeling can reliably provide a basis for improved use is very common among those starting to study the AT. It's very hard for me to believe. Maybe I should just skip this topic since I've written about it elsewhere. But I'll say here that stimulus provides information to help one decide what next to do. But it does not help you to actually DO anything. Sensation or feeling only provides feedback on what is going on in the present moment. To think about the stimulus that you have had in the past, make decisions about its meaning, and use those decisions as a basis to inform your present use is just crazy, it's nuts. I get that you might not know what else to do, and to abandon such craziness is scary. But there is a much better way.
But it seems that few have taken a step back and considered if there is anything one can do to improve the ability to learn how to do things. To improve piano lessons I would take lessons and practice, practice, practice. If I don't succeed at first I'll just keep trying. A piano teacher does not teach you how to learn, they will only teach you how to play the piano. Who teaches you how to learn? I don't want to minimize the effects that training, dedication, will power, nutrition, genetics, good coaching, family support, etc have on good use, but I am talking about more fundamental issues.
Why is it that some people just "make it look easy." They can make a difficult task look effortless. One mark of mastering any task is that there is nothing extra being done. When one muscle group is contracting the antagonistic muscles are relaxed. There is no tension. Look at Michael Jordan, stream a Astaire-Rogers film. As you watch there is some part of your brain ("mirror neurons") that creates the sensation of same movements in your brain - and is a sublime feeling.
One feature of that might be found in Astaire-Rogers-Jordan at peak performance or use is that they are rather present. They are not daydreaming or obsessed with a particular outcome. They are 'in the moment'. They are more attentive to the means where-by they are acting, and not so concerned about the gaining a particular end. Sure, there is a big commitment to winning or making a great movie, but they are able to set it aside while enguaged with the task. It's a nuanced task to set aside a strongly desired goal (WIN!!) to 'be in the moment'. An athlete might refer to this as 'the zone'. This might also be a feature of what Buddhist refer to as samadhi.
There might be other features of good use. Try tapping your head with one hand, nice and rhythmically. Not too tough to do. Now try adding on, at the same time, rubbing you belly with the other hand. Surprisingly hard to do? Do you feel your body tense as you try harder? Once you do it, once it really clicks in, does you body feel loose and relaxed? Does it feel like you learned something brand new, or did you just manage to relax enough to let it happen by itself? Now try speeding up one hands' activity. Do you feel the tension return along with the stimulus to speed up? Did everything fall apart? Anytime you try to make an improvement does the tension come back? What I find is that whenever I try to change anything I become more tense. The very impulse to making an effort to improve creates tension and tightness in my body.
FM Alexander seems to have found this as well - and was quite exasperated trying to improve on his customary activity without tensing up. Finally, he developed a technique where one learns to inhibit the desire to do an activity while directing ones self not to tense up, and to continue to inhibit and direct right up to the point of doing the activity. Or any activity. Or all activities.
I don't know if a teacher of the Alexander technique would agree with my assessments here, but I think it's a simple yet classic explanation of the technique. What is more interesting is that it is a complete explanation of how to sit zazen.
Thursday, May 31, 2012
The Prevention of Suffering
I do not think that the classic notions of the AT are sufficient to explain it's benefits.
The AT help students to improve the use of themselves. AT does not claim to help with pain - or any particular benefit. However, both scientific and anecdotal evidence suggests that students can expect less pain. But how is this? Why might they expect less pain?
I have suggested that AT teachers no longer use the word "pain". The word suggests that a bodily sensation can be separated from the rest (emotions, intellect, etc) of the person. Alexander was very clear that this can not be done. I have suggested that the state of extreme negative physical sensation + emotional distress + tortured thoughts should be called "suffering".
I believe that in addition to claims that AT student will have better use, that it is reasonable, based on science and anecdotal evidence, that the AT can help prevent 'suffering'.
How is this?
The AT teacher is trained to notice how people use their bodies, both with their hands and visually. When a student reports less suffering, and the teacher notices better use of their body, the AT teacher might jump to the conclusion that better use is the cause of less pain/suffering. Of course, it makes sense that better use would lead to less unnecessary tension, improved sensory appreciation, greater efficency, and new tools to organize oneself in order to abandon old patterns and learn new skills. So the case that the AT helps with 'suffering' by way of improved physical use really sounds compelling.
Yes, better use and less pain/'suffering' occur together. But correlation does not prove causality.
I propose that the AT helps with suffering by blocking the progression from stimulous to suffering.
As I have writting in my previous posts, specific steps need to be followed to get from sensation to suffering. These steps might be sensation, separation, aversion and then suffering.
I have claimed in my previous posts that the persistent and energetic direction of the primary control will block this process. Sensation, regardless of how sudden and severe, will not develop into suffering if one has sufficent direction. I have said this is a huge contribution that FM Alexander has given anyone who wishes to suffer less when confronting difficulties.
Zen Buddhists, who stress ending suffering, should take particular attention. Zen teaches the pracice of 'inhibition of end-gaining' or 'stopping' as the means to end suffering. This is fully supported by AT. But I am suggesting another pathway - which anyone can learn to employ.
What evidence do I have for the claim that AT students have less suffering primarily through blocking the development of suffering through direction as opposed to having less pain as the result of better physical use? The scientific evidence is very thin. But there is evidence to support my assertion.
Let us look at the best study on the AT and pain, the ATEAM study published in the British Medical Journal. The most sited primary outcome was an 86% reduction in days in pain compared with the control group. I imagine that most AT teachers would assume that this was due to improvement in physical use. The assumption is that those who learned the technique went about their lives reaching, bending, sitting, etc with greater ease and efficiency and as a result they had less pain.
With greater ease and efficiency there should come less disability. In the ATEAM study disability would seem a surrogate marker for improved use. One would assume about the same improvement in disability and with pain.
But this was not so. There was "only" a 42% reduction in Roland disability score. Still a huge benefit, but only about half of the benefit seen with days with pain: the pain benefit was double the improvement in disability.
This suggests a second mechanism of action that helps with pain. If better use/less disability accounted for only half the pain benifit, what other mechanism could be playing a role?
I propose that those who had studied the AT learned a valuable skill, and that is direction, specifically direction of the primary control. They still had some degree of sensation from their still somewhat disabled back. But with the tool of direction they prevented the sensation from progressing to suffering. Without suffering they reported less pain. And this pathway accounts for the other half of the pain reduction reported in the study.
I realize there are ways to criticise these statements and the evidence is thin.
However, based on the above, an AT teacher should consider telling prospective students that it is reasonable for them to expect less suffering through improving the use of themselves. AND, in addition, students will acquire tools to suffer less as life sends them the challenges that flesh is heir to. Students can acquire two highly effective pathways to maintain poise in the face of any noxious stimulous you might experience, and to prevent that stimulous from producing suffering.
The AT help students to improve the use of themselves. AT does not claim to help with pain - or any particular benefit. However, both scientific and anecdotal evidence suggests that students can expect less pain. But how is this? Why might they expect less pain?
I have suggested that AT teachers no longer use the word "pain". The word suggests that a bodily sensation can be separated from the rest (emotions, intellect, etc) of the person. Alexander was very clear that this can not be done. I have suggested that the state of extreme negative physical sensation + emotional distress + tortured thoughts should be called "suffering".
I believe that in addition to claims that AT student will have better use, that it is reasonable, based on science and anecdotal evidence, that the AT can help prevent 'suffering'.
How is this?
The AT teacher is trained to notice how people use their bodies, both with their hands and visually. When a student reports less suffering, and the teacher notices better use of their body, the AT teacher might jump to the conclusion that better use is the cause of less pain/suffering. Of course, it makes sense that better use would lead to less unnecessary tension, improved sensory appreciation, greater efficency, and new tools to organize oneself in order to abandon old patterns and learn new skills. So the case that the AT helps with 'suffering' by way of improved physical use really sounds compelling.
Yes, better use and less pain/'suffering' occur together. But correlation does not prove causality.
I propose that the AT helps with suffering by blocking the progression from stimulous to suffering.
As I have writting in my previous posts, specific steps need to be followed to get from sensation to suffering. These steps might be sensation, separation, aversion and then suffering.
I have claimed in my previous posts that the persistent and energetic direction of the primary control will block this process. Sensation, regardless of how sudden and severe, will not develop into suffering if one has sufficent direction. I have said this is a huge contribution that FM Alexander has given anyone who wishes to suffer less when confronting difficulties.
Zen Buddhists, who stress ending suffering, should take particular attention. Zen teaches the pracice of 'inhibition of end-gaining' or 'stopping' as the means to end suffering. This is fully supported by AT. But I am suggesting another pathway - which anyone can learn to employ.
What evidence do I have for the claim that AT students have less suffering primarily through blocking the development of suffering through direction as opposed to having less pain as the result of better physical use? The scientific evidence is very thin. But there is evidence to support my assertion.
Let us look at the best study on the AT and pain, the ATEAM study published in the British Medical Journal. The most sited primary outcome was an 86% reduction in days in pain compared with the control group. I imagine that most AT teachers would assume that this was due to improvement in physical use. The assumption is that those who learned the technique went about their lives reaching, bending, sitting, etc with greater ease and efficiency and as a result they had less pain.
With greater ease and efficiency there should come less disability. In the ATEAM study disability would seem a surrogate marker for improved use. One would assume about the same improvement in disability and with pain.
But this was not so. There was "only" a 42% reduction in Roland disability score. Still a huge benefit, but only about half of the benefit seen with days with pain: the pain benefit was double the improvement in disability.
This suggests a second mechanism of action that helps with pain. If better use/less disability accounted for only half the pain benifit, what other mechanism could be playing a role?
I propose that those who had studied the AT learned a valuable skill, and that is direction, specifically direction of the primary control. They still had some degree of sensation from their still somewhat disabled back. But with the tool of direction they prevented the sensation from progressing to suffering. Without suffering they reported less pain. And this pathway accounts for the other half of the pain reduction reported in the study.
I realize there are ways to criticise these statements and the evidence is thin.
However, based on the above, an AT teacher should consider telling prospective students that it is reasonable for them to expect less suffering through improving the use of themselves. AND, in addition, students will acquire tools to suffer less as life sends them the challenges that flesh is heir to. Students can acquire two highly effective pathways to maintain poise in the face of any noxious stimulous you might experience, and to prevent that stimulous from producing suffering.
Wednesday, May 23, 2012
Suffering.
There is a bit more that I wanted to say about sitting with pain. I kept my previous post simple to make a point that most of the pain we have is caused by how we use ourselves. I minimized the effects that the 'conditions of use' have on pain. Also, I want to write about how pain develops.
I feel my last post did not pay the respect I feel to those who have a lot of pain due to their 'condition'. I have known two luminary teachers at the San Francisco Zen Center who have had worse pain than I can possibly imagine. These teachers had really broken bodies due to repeated trauma or advanced disease like rheumatic arthritis. I hesitate to write on this topic at all out of respect for my betters.
I actually know very little about pain. But I do wonder if there is a natural process which people with really bad long term pain follow. Is there a process of experiencing pain, struggling against it, finding some balance between the benefits and pitfall of 'hope', finding some acceptance and openness to pain? Does this process remodel our beliefs around who we are? If so, the severe 'conditions of use' now has effected our 'manner of use'. Pain can be a very powerful remodeler of who we think we are.
I am a medical care provider, and I occasionally provide care to people with chronic pain. To provide care I listen carefully to their concerns, and communicate that I really care about them. I let them know that I want them to be free from pain. I do everything I can to find the cause of their pain and provide treatment. And I also do everything I can to provide symptomatic relief. That's the easy part. But I feel I must make an effort to add something more. I'm not there to be their friend. And it's not right to be overly solicitous. I must suggest to them that some of their pain is due to their 'manner of use' which is fundamentally based on beliefs. I might ask those with pain: "Can you let the pain be just pain?" "Can you leave yourself alone while you sit?" I strongly feel the the Alexander Technique could be very helpful here.
I'd like to change gears a bit. I would like to propose that there is a process that we habitually perform as sensation devolves into pain. We go step by step down this path. It is a progression from 'sensation' to 'suffering'. Most important, we do it. We have to take responsibility for the process. Very roughly:
Sensation: At a rather fundamental level there is this brain that is receiving electrical stimulation. This is stimulation to a specific area of the brain's body maps.
Separation: At some point there is a separation, there is separate 'me' that is feeling - a me that has a leg.
Aversion: I decide that I don't like the knee stimulation.
Suffering: I start to become more and more involved in the sensation and opinions about the sensation. This manifests as concurrent emotional upset, psychic involvement and shortening and contracting the body. This is not pain. The word "pain" infers that it is possible to have a big physical sensation that is separate from the emotional grief + wild tormented thinking + shortening and contracting of the body. These things are all wrapped up together and it is not possible to separate them. One never occurs without the others. The package is called suffering.
How long it takes to move from sensation to suffering can be reduced to a mathematical formulae. One of the variables is the speed with which the sensation is experienced. The other day I tripped and hurt my foot at a busy intersection. Because it was so sudden I spun around to scream obscenities at the offending curb. On the other extreme is the exquisitely detailed unfolding of suffering with knee pain while sitting. Another part of the equation is that suffering is inversely proportional to capacity. On the days when I feel good, have eaten well, have slept well and have done some zazen I have greater capacity and it takes longer for aversion and suffering take place. Capacity can be cultivated.
Regardless of where one is in this 4 step decent into suffering, we can interrupt it. Once interrupted we can move back up the process. To interrupt the process Zen suggests creatively engaging the process and 'just sit'. The AT student recommits to 'the inhibition of end-gaining'. Google teaches their employees to "stop". Although Zen is arguably the most nuanced expression of 'stopping', all these are equivalent. Getting good at 'stopping' can lead to impressive 'capacity'
I propose the AT has something unique to add. Something else besides 'stopping' to help alleviate suffering. This addition is important: it is the only reason I am writing this blog. AT has 'direction' to add. If one is employing direction one can prevent descending, step by step, into suffering. One can imunize oneself from the decent from sensation to suffering. One must pass through the gateway of primary control to suffer. Shortening and contracting of the body will not occur if continuous direction is provided to the primary control; big physical sensation will not prompt us to create emotional grief + wild tormented thinking.
Here is a statement - if one successfully and continually maintains conscious direction over the primary control one will not progress from sensation to suffering. If this is not exciting enough, consider that 'direction' is not a variable in the suffering equation. It is a condition. If 'direction' is present then suffering can not develop. Without direction, suffering is free to develop based on our equation above. This is because the primary control is gatekeeper of our response to stimuli. This should be huge news to the 376 million Buddhists because Buddhism is fundamentally about the end of suffering.
The Zen student has ample opportunities to investigate this. Sit cross legged without direction and see how long you can do it without suffering. Tomorrow, employ direction along with your Zen 'stopping' and see how long it takes for suffering to develop. (Oh, I forgot, you'll have to have some lessons in the AT to learn how to do this).
Thank you so much for bearing with me. Here is a story as a reward. Sorry, I don't know the details. But it was in medieval Japan. The setting is a remote mountain monastery which was about to be overrun by a samurai general and his troops. But this was a particularly brutal general. Fearing for their lives all the monks ran and hid in the bushes. All but one old monk. The next day the general burst into the meditation hall. Seeing the seated old monk he went over, drew his sword, held it with alarming intent, and said "Fool! Don't you know who I am? I could run my blade through you and not blink an eye!" The old monk replied: "General! Don't you know who I am? I could have your blade run through me and not bink an eye!"
Feel free to end the story as you wish: it's not important. What is important is that the monks Zen training has likely provided him with tremendous capacity to withstand sudden extreme sensation with poise and equanimity.
Slings and arrow, being that we are human, will find us all eventually. Hiding in bushes is not a reliable plan. Perhaps we have the time to mature slowly like and old monk. On the other hand, the General may already be at the gate. Are you feeling the poise and equanimity? Maybe thinking about learning more about 'direction'?
So you can check my math - go ahead and peer review me. But ultimately this is not an intelectual exercise. Consider studying the Alexander Technique.
I feel my last post did not pay the respect I feel to those who have a lot of pain due to their 'condition'. I have known two luminary teachers at the San Francisco Zen Center who have had worse pain than I can possibly imagine. These teachers had really broken bodies due to repeated trauma or advanced disease like rheumatic arthritis. I hesitate to write on this topic at all out of respect for my betters.
I actually know very little about pain. But I do wonder if there is a natural process which people with really bad long term pain follow. Is there a process of experiencing pain, struggling against it, finding some balance between the benefits and pitfall of 'hope', finding some acceptance and openness to pain? Does this process remodel our beliefs around who we are? If so, the severe 'conditions of use' now has effected our 'manner of use'. Pain can be a very powerful remodeler of who we think we are.
I am a medical care provider, and I occasionally provide care to people with chronic pain. To provide care I listen carefully to their concerns, and communicate that I really care about them. I let them know that I want them to be free from pain. I do everything I can to find the cause of their pain and provide treatment. And I also do everything I can to provide symptomatic relief. That's the easy part. But I feel I must make an effort to add something more. I'm not there to be their friend. And it's not right to be overly solicitous. I must suggest to them that some of their pain is due to their 'manner of use' which is fundamentally based on beliefs. I might ask those with pain: "Can you let the pain be just pain?" "Can you leave yourself alone while you sit?" I strongly feel the the Alexander Technique could be very helpful here.
I'd like to change gears a bit. I would like to propose that there is a process that we habitually perform as sensation devolves into pain. We go step by step down this path. It is a progression from 'sensation' to 'suffering'. Most important, we do it. We have to take responsibility for the process. Very roughly:
Sensation: At a rather fundamental level there is this brain that is receiving electrical stimulation. This is stimulation to a specific area of the brain's body maps.
Separation: At some point there is a separation, there is separate 'me' that is feeling - a me that has a leg.
Aversion: I decide that I don't like the knee stimulation.
Suffering: I start to become more and more involved in the sensation and opinions about the sensation. This manifests as concurrent emotional upset, psychic involvement and shortening and contracting the body. This is not pain. The word "pain" infers that it is possible to have a big physical sensation that is separate from the emotional grief + wild tormented thinking + shortening and contracting of the body. These things are all wrapped up together and it is not possible to separate them. One never occurs without the others. The package is called suffering.
How long it takes to move from sensation to suffering can be reduced to a mathematical formulae. One of the variables is the speed with which the sensation is experienced. The other day I tripped and hurt my foot at a busy intersection. Because it was so sudden I spun around to scream obscenities at the offending curb. On the other extreme is the exquisitely detailed unfolding of suffering with knee pain while sitting. Another part of the equation is that suffering is inversely proportional to capacity. On the days when I feel good, have eaten well, have slept well and have done some zazen I have greater capacity and it takes longer for aversion and suffering take place. Capacity can be cultivated.
Regardless of where one is in this 4 step decent into suffering, we can interrupt it. Once interrupted we can move back up the process. To interrupt the process Zen suggests creatively engaging the process and 'just sit'. The AT student recommits to 'the inhibition of end-gaining'. Google teaches their employees to "stop". Although Zen is arguably the most nuanced expression of 'stopping', all these are equivalent. Getting good at 'stopping' can lead to impressive 'capacity'
I propose the AT has something unique to add. Something else besides 'stopping' to help alleviate suffering. This addition is important: it is the only reason I am writing this blog. AT has 'direction' to add. If one is employing direction one can prevent descending, step by step, into suffering. One can imunize oneself from the decent from sensation to suffering. One must pass through the gateway of primary control to suffer. Shortening and contracting of the body will not occur if continuous direction is provided to the primary control; big physical sensation will not prompt us to create emotional grief + wild tormented thinking.
Here is a statement - if one successfully and continually maintains conscious direction over the primary control one will not progress from sensation to suffering. If this is not exciting enough, consider that 'direction' is not a variable in the suffering equation. It is a condition. If 'direction' is present then suffering can not develop. Without direction, suffering is free to develop based on our equation above. This is because the primary control is gatekeeper of our response to stimuli. This should be huge news to the 376 million Buddhists because Buddhism is fundamentally about the end of suffering.
The Zen student has ample opportunities to investigate this. Sit cross legged without direction and see how long you can do it without suffering. Tomorrow, employ direction along with your Zen 'stopping' and see how long it takes for suffering to develop. (Oh, I forgot, you'll have to have some lessons in the AT to learn how to do this).
Thank you so much for bearing with me. Here is a story as a reward. Sorry, I don't know the details. But it was in medieval Japan. The setting is a remote mountain monastery which was about to be overrun by a samurai general and his troops. But this was a particularly brutal general. Fearing for their lives all the monks ran and hid in the bushes. All but one old monk. The next day the general burst into the meditation hall. Seeing the seated old monk he went over, drew his sword, held it with alarming intent, and said "Fool! Don't you know who I am? I could run my blade through you and not blink an eye!" The old monk replied: "General! Don't you know who I am? I could have your blade run through me and not bink an eye!"
Feel free to end the story as you wish: it's not important. What is important is that the monks Zen training has likely provided him with tremendous capacity to withstand sudden extreme sensation with poise and equanimity.
Slings and arrow, being that we are human, will find us all eventually. Hiding in bushes is not a reliable plan. Perhaps we have the time to mature slowly like and old monk. On the other hand, the General may already be at the gate. Are you feeling the poise and equanimity? Maybe thinking about learning more about 'direction'?
So you can check my math - go ahead and peer review me. But ultimately this is not an intelectual exercise. Consider studying the Alexander Technique.
Saturday, May 19, 2012
Sitting with Pain
Zen Buddhism is about the end of suffering. But meditation is physically painful for many people. Zen proponents are telling people who trust them to do meditation, but the sitting is painful. On the one hand Zen says it helps with suffering, and on the other people who sit zazen experience pain when sitting.
Sitting in pain is a problem in Zen practice that needs to be acknowledged. On it's face Zen proponents are on thin ice ethically. Many smart people can rationalize, and equivocate in an attempt to dismiss this contradiction. My concept of Buddhism, and Zen in particular is to simply and squarely face reality and simply say "I am fully responsible for this".
Does sitting cause pain? Or is it just that we finally settle down and, lacking distraction, see the underling pain in in our life? Is it actually just a physical manifestation of our emotional turmoil? Is pain different than suffering? Is pain with sitting some kind of hazing ritual? Is it an essential part of the maturation of a Zen student? Is the pain just a manifestation of our clinging and aversions? Or is there really no pain at all, just a label that we choose to slap on sensations that we decide we don't like?
I refuse to get involved. I tire quickly of intellectual gymnastics. Indeed, I am quite dull and prefer to rely on simple stories from my youth:
My first visit to Tassajara Zen Monastery was for 2 weeks in the middle of the summer as a guest student. It was hot. The next year I decided to stay the entire summer and got there just as the winter/spring practice period ended. I rode my Yamaha two stroke twin over the mountain bringing everything I thought I would need strapped on the back. "It's the summer." I told myself. "It will be hot and I won't really need much clothing." The next day, (actually the middle of the night), the wakeup bell went running by my bed. I got up, wrapped a hand-me-down black robe around my scrawny 6'4" 150lb frame and went off to the zendo. I fucking froze my ass off. After morning sitting I immediately went to the "Goodwill" for something - anything - warm to wear. I was not surprised to find another shivering guest student there with the same goal. What was surprising was that he had just put on a bright pink puffy one piece jump suit which made him look like a giant infant or freakish easter bunny. It looked profoundly undignified, incredibly hideous. Of course, I shared my thoughts with him. My fellow guest student turned to me, looked me dead in the eye and in two words, gave me a profound lesson. He said simply "Fuck Suffering".
One aim of the Yoga of Zen must be to help people sit with less pain. Those who recommend zazen should be well versed and recommend adjuvant practices that are likely to help people sit with less pain. It is a simple act of compassion for more senior students to be familiar with the causes of pain while sitting and to make sure everyone is offered every possible assistance.
So lets look for something that might help with the pain. But where should we look? Drugs are out. Tiger balm is smelly. We've all tried squirming constantly: not so fun. How about instead of sitting cross legged maybe try sitting on a seiza bench? Or maybe a chair? Sometimes using these allows people to sit in less pain. Why is this? I think the only explanation is: how you use yourself is important.
This may seem like a trivial statement but it actually says a lot: pain is not simply a physical manifestation of psychic issues. It also means we are not victims of circumstances: we can make changes to how we use ourselves that makes sitting less painful. Also, it means that sitting without pain may not be exclusively available only to those with years of experience.
But how do we know if a change will be helpful or not? In the meditation hall there are lots of cushions, pads and supports that can be used in countless variations and permutations. Do we have to experiment over a period of years? Is it hit a miss? Doesn't sound like much fun, huh? I did this for 30 years. For me, it wasn't the fun part of sitting...
It might be useful here to introduce two ideas: 'manner of use' and 'conditions of use'. Conditions of use refers to what your body is physically capable of doing. Your Average Joe (who just set aside the remote and is getting off the recliner to try zazen for the first time) has limited external rotation of the hip which will make sitting in full lotus, ah, difficult. That is the condition of use. 'Manner of Use' is much different. Ones 'manner of use' is defined by how a Zen student wants to use herself, what she thinks is possible, what her personality suggests, what her beliefs are, what feels right. She sits the way she does because that is who she thinks she is - plain and simple, not very considered.
Now, if our use contributes to the pain we feel, is the pain from the 'conditions of use' or the 'manner of use'? Raise your hands if you think it is the 'condition of use'. Just as I thought - you all believe it the 'conditions of use'. I thought so because if you google 'yoga' and 'zen' you get endless sites that claim the two complement each other wonderfully. Tassajara has many summer programs on yoga and zen taught by wonderful smart people. That's proof. Or listen to the Rolfers and chiropractors and massage practitioners who adjust your body manually - who change your 'conditions of use': your strength, flexibility and coordination. They will change your conditions and you will change how you sit and you will sit comfortably. Right?
If pain while sitting is caused by the 'condition of use' then changing your 'manner of use' will not help at all. Our Zen student can decide to change her manner of use but as she actually tries she will bump into the limits of what her conditions dictate is possible for her. Clearly, changing the manner of use should have little effect on pain while sitting if the 'conditions of use' are important.
I beg of my kind reader just a few moments to consider something different. Something so different that it has the potential to radically change how zazen is taught.
Let's take a step back and ask if there is are any professionals out there that can help us with our 'manner of use' - who might help us to use ourselves better? Alexander Technique teachers claim they can help us to do just this. And that is all they claim. It is the only educational technique that specifically claims to improve how we use ourselves - our 'manner of use'.
Might pain with sitting be no different than common (non malignant) back pain? Pain, for many of us, does not stop once we leave the meditation hall. In fact most of us are achy quite a bit of the time. The most common type of pain we have is back pain. Its the 6th most costly diagnosis in US managed care. There have been a fair number of scientific studies hoping to find some way to alleviate this pain. The science suggests that therapies such as massage, acupuncture, rest, exercise, and chiropractic care can be helpful in the short run, but have very little proven benefit in the long term: improving the 'conditions of use' have not been found to reliably help with back pain in the long term. Recently there was a very important study on back pain published in the British Medical Journal, one of the most respected medical journals in the world. It was impressive because of the quality, long term follow up and the magnitude of the outcome. You can read it here: http://www.bmj.com/content/337/bmj.a884.full The study is a high quality, prospective, randomized study involving 579 people with quite significant back pain. People were randomized to a exercise, massage or lessons in the Alexander Technique. Bottom line: those with lessons had a 84% reduction in days in pain compared with the control group. The control group reported three weeks in pain in the past month while the Alexander Technique group only had three days. And this follow up was done a full year later which suggests that the AT group were given tools that provided life long relief from back pain. Of course, this was only one study, but given the quality of the study and other studies - which uniformly find benefit with the AT - we can safely say that the AT helps with back pain. And it help by improving the 'manner of use' NOT the 'conditions of use'.
To sit with much less pain one only needs from 6 to 24 lessons in the Alexander Technique to improve the 'manner of use'. Trying to improve the 'condition of use' will only marginally help and there are other problems with these therapies and practices as well. Improvement in 'conditions of use' does not help much with sitting because the 'conditions of use' are not what is really limiting us.
All students and Zen teachers must understand the difference between the 'condition of use' and the 'manner of use'. Pain while sitting can not be substantively addressed by trying to change the 'condition of use'. Since the AT is the only technique to improve the 'manner of use' it should at least be recommended to all zen student who are troubled by pain while sitting. If we care about our Sangha we must talk about the problem of sitting with pain, consider it's causes, and recommend the AT which is proven to be effective.
Sitting in pain is a problem in Zen practice that needs to be acknowledged. On it's face Zen proponents are on thin ice ethically. Many smart people can rationalize, and equivocate in an attempt to dismiss this contradiction. My concept of Buddhism, and Zen in particular is to simply and squarely face reality and simply say "I am fully responsible for this".
Does sitting cause pain? Or is it just that we finally settle down and, lacking distraction, see the underling pain in in our life? Is it actually just a physical manifestation of our emotional turmoil? Is pain different than suffering? Is pain with sitting some kind of hazing ritual? Is it an essential part of the maturation of a Zen student? Is the pain just a manifestation of our clinging and aversions? Or is there really no pain at all, just a label that we choose to slap on sensations that we decide we don't like?
I refuse to get involved. I tire quickly of intellectual gymnastics. Indeed, I am quite dull and prefer to rely on simple stories from my youth:
My first visit to Tassajara Zen Monastery was for 2 weeks in the middle of the summer as a guest student. It was hot. The next year I decided to stay the entire summer and got there just as the winter/spring practice period ended. I rode my Yamaha two stroke twin over the mountain bringing everything I thought I would need strapped on the back. "It's the summer." I told myself. "It will be hot and I won't really need much clothing." The next day, (actually the middle of the night), the wakeup bell went running by my bed. I got up, wrapped a hand-me-down black robe around my scrawny 6'4" 150lb frame and went off to the zendo. I fucking froze my ass off. After morning sitting I immediately went to the "Goodwill" for something - anything - warm to wear. I was not surprised to find another shivering guest student there with the same goal. What was surprising was that he had just put on a bright pink puffy one piece jump suit which made him look like a giant infant or freakish easter bunny. It looked profoundly undignified, incredibly hideous. Of course, I shared my thoughts with him. My fellow guest student turned to me, looked me dead in the eye and in two words, gave me a profound lesson. He said simply "Fuck Suffering".
One aim of the Yoga of Zen must be to help people sit with less pain. Those who recommend zazen should be well versed and recommend adjuvant practices that are likely to help people sit with less pain. It is a simple act of compassion for more senior students to be familiar with the causes of pain while sitting and to make sure everyone is offered every possible assistance.
So lets look for something that might help with the pain. But where should we look? Drugs are out. Tiger balm is smelly. We've all tried squirming constantly: not so fun. How about instead of sitting cross legged maybe try sitting on a seiza bench? Or maybe a chair? Sometimes using these allows people to sit in less pain. Why is this? I think the only explanation is: how you use yourself is important.
This may seem like a trivial statement but it actually says a lot: pain is not simply a physical manifestation of psychic issues. It also means we are not victims of circumstances: we can make changes to how we use ourselves that makes sitting less painful. Also, it means that sitting without pain may not be exclusively available only to those with years of experience.
But how do we know if a change will be helpful or not? In the meditation hall there are lots of cushions, pads and supports that can be used in countless variations and permutations. Do we have to experiment over a period of years? Is it hit a miss? Doesn't sound like much fun, huh? I did this for 30 years. For me, it wasn't the fun part of sitting...
It might be useful here to introduce two ideas: 'manner of use' and 'conditions of use'. Conditions of use refers to what your body is physically capable of doing. Your Average Joe (who just set aside the remote and is getting off the recliner to try zazen for the first time) has limited external rotation of the hip which will make sitting in full lotus, ah, difficult. That is the condition of use. 'Manner of Use' is much different. Ones 'manner of use' is defined by how a Zen student wants to use herself, what she thinks is possible, what her personality suggests, what her beliefs are, what feels right. She sits the way she does because that is who she thinks she is - plain and simple, not very considered.
Now, if our use contributes to the pain we feel, is the pain from the 'conditions of use' or the 'manner of use'? Raise your hands if you think it is the 'condition of use'. Just as I thought - you all believe it the 'conditions of use'. I thought so because if you google 'yoga' and 'zen' you get endless sites that claim the two complement each other wonderfully. Tassajara has many summer programs on yoga and zen taught by wonderful smart people. That's proof. Or listen to the Rolfers and chiropractors and massage practitioners who adjust your body manually - who change your 'conditions of use': your strength, flexibility and coordination. They will change your conditions and you will change how you sit and you will sit comfortably. Right?
If pain while sitting is caused by the 'condition of use' then changing your 'manner of use' will not help at all. Our Zen student can decide to change her manner of use but as she actually tries she will bump into the limits of what her conditions dictate is possible for her. Clearly, changing the manner of use should have little effect on pain while sitting if the 'conditions of use' are important.
I beg of my kind reader just a few moments to consider something different. Something so different that it has the potential to radically change how zazen is taught.
Let's take a step back and ask if there is are any professionals out there that can help us with our 'manner of use' - who might help us to use ourselves better? Alexander Technique teachers claim they can help us to do just this. And that is all they claim. It is the only educational technique that specifically claims to improve how we use ourselves - our 'manner of use'.
Might pain with sitting be no different than common (non malignant) back pain? Pain, for many of us, does not stop once we leave the meditation hall. In fact most of us are achy quite a bit of the time. The most common type of pain we have is back pain. Its the 6th most costly diagnosis in US managed care. There have been a fair number of scientific studies hoping to find some way to alleviate this pain. The science suggests that therapies such as massage, acupuncture, rest, exercise, and chiropractic care can be helpful in the short run, but have very little proven benefit in the long term: improving the 'conditions of use' have not been found to reliably help with back pain in the long term. Recently there was a very important study on back pain published in the British Medical Journal, one of the most respected medical journals in the world. It was impressive because of the quality, long term follow up and the magnitude of the outcome. You can read it here: http://www.bmj.com/content/337/bmj.a884.full The study is a high quality, prospective, randomized study involving 579 people with quite significant back pain. People were randomized to a exercise, massage or lessons in the Alexander Technique. Bottom line: those with lessons had a 84% reduction in days in pain compared with the control group. The control group reported three weeks in pain in the past month while the Alexander Technique group only had three days. And this follow up was done a full year later which suggests that the AT group were given tools that provided life long relief from back pain. Of course, this was only one study, but given the quality of the study and other studies - which uniformly find benefit with the AT - we can safely say that the AT helps with back pain. And it help by improving the 'manner of use' NOT the 'conditions of use'.
To sit with much less pain one only needs from 6 to 24 lessons in the Alexander Technique to improve the 'manner of use'. Trying to improve the 'condition of use' will only marginally help and there are other problems with these therapies and practices as well. Improvement in 'conditions of use' does not help much with sitting because the 'conditions of use' are not what is really limiting us.
All students and Zen teachers must understand the difference between the 'condition of use' and the 'manner of use'. Pain while sitting can not be substantively addressed by trying to change the 'condition of use'. Since the AT is the only technique to improve the 'manner of use' it should at least be recommended to all zen student who are troubled by pain while sitting. If we care about our Sangha we must talk about the problem of sitting with pain, consider it's causes, and recommend the AT which is proven to be effective.
Tuesday, May 8, 2012
More Success for Google
I read an article in the NYT Sunday business section. The article was about a popular class Google offers to some of it's employees. The class is to help the employees find some way to work in what the article repeatedly says is a stressful situation.
When I think of struggling US workers, my heart does not automatically go out to the privileged workers at Google. But I do feel I owe Google something because they enable me to offer my unfocused thoughts, without charge. So in exchange, I'm going to suggest some changes to their class so that they can all be even more successful.
The article says that this course is called "Search Inside Yourself" and was developed with the help of "nine experts in the use of mindfulness at work" including the former Zen monk Mark Lesser.
The NYT writes: "One tool the course teaches is S.B.N.R.R ... short for Stop, Breathe, Notice, Reflect and Respond." This is very exciting because it shows that cutting edge in-house education is getting closer to the wisdom of the AT and Zen. Here are my thoughts on S.B.N.R.R:
Stop. I'm in total agreement. Why stop? Because if we don't stop we can't put an end to obsessive end-gaining which interferes with accurately perceiving reality. Further, it's only when we stop that we can realize we have a choice in how we respond. That's why we need to stop. For how long? Better not be long! They've got deadlines! I recommend stopping long enough to end the end-gaining and prevent interference with the primary control. Stopping does not have to take time, it only means you have given up on end-gaining and stopped interfering with the primary control.
Breathe. No, sorry, not a good idea. You might be able to settle your nerves a bit - any smoker will tell you it helps to take a big breath - but it's the wrong choice for several reasons:
1. Weird breathing is a symptom and not the problem. The problem is the end-gaining and poor use, the breath is a small part.
2. You are fragmenting yourself into parts: the mind, body, emotions, spiritual lives, intellect, personality are not separate. It is all the Self. If you want to make improvements and find success, then you have to address the Self and how its brought to bear in any task. Your back pain is not a symptom of your stress: it is your stress. Your obsessive end-gaining is not different than your physical tension and breath holding.
3. Trying to change the breathing is "doing". And the poor Google employee is already being asked to do more than enough. Zen is not about doing either, and being successful is also not about doing. Being less stressed is not about doing. It is all about DOING LESS!
4. Who has time for long slow breathing? We have work to do!
Notice, Reflect. Sure, obviously important. But these spring naturally from the cessation of end-gaining and foregoing interfering with the primary control. There is no need to make any effort to notice and reflect. These spring up naturally right after we stop. The deeper we were involved with our end-gaining the more startling coming back to reality will be. There is no reason to dwell there. Save the navel gazing for your time off.
Respond. Whoa! Hold on there! You're almost ready to open-your-mouth-send-the-email-Buy-IBM but not quite. Consider, what got you into all that end-gaining to begin with? Your end-gaining is caused by ignorance of how to reach your goal and a lifetime of poor use of yourself. Once you have stopped, here is how to proceed. Simply wish, allow and direct your head to go forward and up, the torso to lengthen and widen, the knees to go forward and away to allow the ankles to release and the heals to drop. THIS IS NOT DOING: simply allow it to all happen. This is sending directions to allow you to stop misusing yourself.
OK! Now, while directing yourself: Off you go! Stop and direct throughout the day as needed.
Enjoy!
When I think of struggling US workers, my heart does not automatically go out to the privileged workers at Google. But I do feel I owe Google something because they enable me to offer my unfocused thoughts, without charge. So in exchange, I'm going to suggest some changes to their class so that they can all be even more successful.
The article says that this course is called "Search Inside Yourself" and was developed with the help of "nine experts in the use of mindfulness at work" including the former Zen monk Mark Lesser.
The NYT writes: "One tool the course teaches is S.B.N.R.R ... short for Stop, Breathe, Notice, Reflect and Respond." This is very exciting because it shows that cutting edge in-house education is getting closer to the wisdom of the AT and Zen. Here are my thoughts on S.B.N.R.R:
Stop. I'm in total agreement. Why stop? Because if we don't stop we can't put an end to obsessive end-gaining which interferes with accurately perceiving reality. Further, it's only when we stop that we can realize we have a choice in how we respond. That's why we need to stop. For how long? Better not be long! They've got deadlines! I recommend stopping long enough to end the end-gaining and prevent interference with the primary control. Stopping does not have to take time, it only means you have given up on end-gaining and stopped interfering with the primary control.
Breathe. No, sorry, not a good idea. You might be able to settle your nerves a bit - any smoker will tell you it helps to take a big breath - but it's the wrong choice for several reasons:
1. Weird breathing is a symptom and not the problem. The problem is the end-gaining and poor use, the breath is a small part.
2. You are fragmenting yourself into parts: the mind, body, emotions, spiritual lives, intellect, personality are not separate. It is all the Self. If you want to make improvements and find success, then you have to address the Self and how its brought to bear in any task. Your back pain is not a symptom of your stress: it is your stress. Your obsessive end-gaining is not different than your physical tension and breath holding.
3. Trying to change the breathing is "doing". And the poor Google employee is already being asked to do more than enough. Zen is not about doing either, and being successful is also not about doing. Being less stressed is not about doing. It is all about DOING LESS!
4. Who has time for long slow breathing? We have work to do!
Notice, Reflect. Sure, obviously important. But these spring naturally from the cessation of end-gaining and foregoing interfering with the primary control. There is no need to make any effort to notice and reflect. These spring up naturally right after we stop. The deeper we were involved with our end-gaining the more startling coming back to reality will be. There is no reason to dwell there. Save the navel gazing for your time off.
Respond. Whoa! Hold on there! You're almost ready to open-your-mouth-send-the-email-Buy-IBM but not quite. Consider, what got you into all that end-gaining to begin with? Your end-gaining is caused by ignorance of how to reach your goal and a lifetime of poor use of yourself. Once you have stopped, here is how to proceed. Simply wish, allow and direct your head to go forward and up, the torso to lengthen and widen, the knees to go forward and away to allow the ankles to release and the heals to drop. THIS IS NOT DOING: simply allow it to all happen. This is sending directions to allow you to stop misusing yourself.
OK! Now, while directing yourself: Off you go! Stop and direct throughout the day as needed.
Enjoy!
Tuesday, May 1, 2012
Zen Forms
Zen Forms are central to Zen practice. They are about how we practice with our body. I've heard it said that there is no practice outside the Forms. Given that the Forms are such an essential part of Zen Practice it is surprising there is very little written about it. In fact a google search yields just one or two lectures on the Forms.
This essay is about the pervasive ignorance about them. It's very, very sad that such a huge part of our practice is, at best unexamined and underutilized. This post is about how the Forms are commonly understood, what the Forms could be, and how the AT can inform the practicing of the Forms. I love the Zen Forms. It is heart breaking to see how poorly understood - how abused - they are.
The Forms are a vast heterogeneous group of suggestions describing everything from daily schedules to the knots uses in our robes. From how to hold your eating bowls to how to walk during breaks. How loud to speak to how to cut vegetables. They can be ancient like what kind of knots to make in ones robe or more modern like silencing your cell phone during sitting. Some are for monastic settings and some are for community centers. Some have real impact of the quality of practice, like how to hold the hands during zazen and some seem quite arbitrary like what foot to use crossing a threshold. They are an odd collection.
You can use the Forms to do quite a bit. For example:
It can make you feel like a good Zen student once you think you have mastered them.
It can make you feel like a crummy student if you fail, repeatedly.
It can make you feel like one of the cool people in the Sangha, as opposed to those who are clueless, inconsiderate, and lacking in commitment as demonstrated by their non adherence to the Form.
Success in the Forms can elevate you the Repository of the Treasured Heart of The Practice (OK, I made that up).
It can be your job. Or your role in the world.
We can be use Forms to communication our shortcoming: the gap between our intention (following the Forms) and what we are actually doing revels quite a bit about ourselves to our teachers and fellow students.
They help us be less self concerned: 'Get up with the wakeup bell' helps us be less concerned with what we want or don't want.
They make us feel part of a group: we are supporting the group by employing the Forms and the group is supporting us.
You and your community can embody beauty through the practice of the Forms. 'Beauty' is a perceived quality that resonate with your fundamental perfection.
Zen forms are what you want them to be. So, what do you want out of your Sangha, your practice and the Forms? Is Zen your job and practicing the Forms your occupation? Is it an identity for you? A way to define "we" and "them"? A litmus test to tell who is part of your sangha and who is not? Are they something to get better at, something step by step to master? Is it an opportunity for you to teach those who are ignorant? Do you want the Forms to bring some order to your chaotic personal life? An anchor of meaning in an uncaring universe? Do you want them to be a convenience so that we don't have to think about how to do something? Are the Forms something that need cherishing and protecting? A religious icon? Are they here to help create a religious institution? In a monastic community, are they a way to communicate with each other: A way to let everyone know, "I'm doing well today" or "Today I'm a bit off, I'm not doing well". Whew, have I just scratch the surface?
Is there a fundamental use of the forms? Some people think that forms are here to extend our awareness. But I think this is a superficial understanding. Sure if we spend long hours trying to count our breaths we will need some antidote to this navel gazing. But I reject the notion that some antidote is needed to the practice of shikantaza. Do we really need to be 'aware' 10 times a day or 10,000 times a day. Is that really what Zen practice is about? Hey! The world is full of suffering!!! Maybe I'm too practical or maybe I'm stupid, or maybe I'm both, but I do not think that Zen practice is about being more 'aware'.
I beg you to consider Zen using the Forms as something else.
In you heart of hearts, what do you want out of your Zen practice? It's worth considering, because once you know what you want then you can use the Forms to further your goal.
And out of respect for our founders, what did the Ancestors want out us? In their heart of hearts, in one word, what do they that want for you and me?
Oh no. I seems I've written myself into a dark personal corner, and I'm sure none of you want to be here with me...
Ok, lets start over and try to be more practical. As long as I'm alive, I'll be doing stuff. Once I'm dead I won't be doing anything. This insight is from the Zen teacher Norman Fisher. Pretty basic, but I think it's important. And the stuff I do involves moving. Living things are alway moving, even while appearing nearly still. Dead thing are still. Living things can look pretty still, but actually they are always moving and doing something. But lets look at how I do this something. For me, the next thing I do might be done out of habit, not at all considered, done while half awake and preoccupied with what I want or where I want to be. But it does not have to be this way. I do not want it to be this way for me or for you either.
Thank goodness we actually have a choice in what to do in the next moment. But to have an alternative to this habitual, preoccupied, half awake way of acting we must have some commitment to act in a different way. We have to care about how we do this thing. Zen Forms are commitments, nothing more or less. Because there are lots and lots of 'doing' in our life, we need lots and lots of commitments or Forms. But it's OK to start out with one or two.
Might Zen Forms have any features?
One feature is Zen is that there are no limits. None of the many aspects of Zen have limits. Is our sitting limited to standing or lying down? Or take the vows: is the vow to save all beings just limited to your friends? Or just to those you think deserved to be saved? Or just humans? Or just those living now? Or all beings in the 10 directions? What about you toothbrush? Can you save your toothbrush?
How about the precepts? Where are the limits? Take "Do Not Kill". 'Not killing' is not limited to Not Killing you neighbor, or animals, or plants. It's not even limited to not killing thoughts or desires or aversions.
So what is special about the forms? Why should we assume there are limits to the forms? If we save a little old lady from getting run over, or if we manage to not killer the mo fo who cut us off in traffic, can we says that we have mastered 'saving' and 'not killing'?
Are we ever done with them? Do we graduate? Do we get a sabbatical from 'not killing'. Is there annual leave, spare time, retire at 65? Of course not.
So why should there be any limits to "Walk quietly"? What is your commitment to "walking quietly". Does it mean "quiet enough so that when I walk in the zendo I don't wake up my betters?" Or is it limited to throwing our whole self into each moment of walking so as not disturb one molecule of air? Is walking quietly limited to walking or does "walking quietly" mean not disturbing even one molecule of air even with not waking? Once you can do that, can you go beyond walking quietly and not walking quietly? Have you ever seen an old Zen student wildly abandon a form? It is a bizarre shocking event. Is that freedom?
Another feature of Zen is that its practice is not a step by step process. It's to be done fully, by each of us,, without reserve in this present moment. Sure, when you just start out with "walking quietly" your walking will sound different than one who has devoted most of her life to "walking quietly". But that does not mean her practice is better than yours. In fact, she might be day dreaming while walking. You can train a monkey to walk quietly. Does the monkey have good practice? Of course not, he's a monkey! If you want to improve "walking quietly" you improve by clarifying your intention and practicing persistently. Getting better at "walking quietly" has nothing at all to do with walking quietly! Zen forms is not a commitment to do anything! There are no mistakes in the practice of the Forms!
Finally, I want to propose that the reason we make the commitment is to be free. Have you made a commitment to 'walk quietly' to walk quietly? Well, what do you want out of your practice? For me, the Forms is a commitment to find some space. Once space is created we then have the possibility to act in a way we choose.
So the Forms are about a commitment. And the Forms are without limits like everything else in Zen. A limitless commitment. A limitless commitment that we fully and continually throw ourselves into without concern for improvement in order to create some space were we can act according to our deepest intention.
Lets take it apart into it's pieces. First I adopt the Form "walking quietly" as my intention. What I notice very quickly is how oblivious I am regrading how much sound I make when I walk. I am unconscious when I walk: I use myself out of habit. Over time I start to notice the stimulus to walk. Then, sometimes, I can stop my self from acting on the stimulus. I stop. I remind myself about my commitment to walk quietly. I can then then proceed with my commitment to walk quietly, or do something else, like nap. But it does not stop there. One must be on continual lookout for the stimulus to walk. At any moment our universe might send us sensations that prompt a stimulus or desire to walk. It's trick like that.
The Zen student have the benefit of a whole lot to individual forms they can adopt. And they have shikantaza to loosen our grasp of habitual responses and nurture a framework for continuos limitless commitment. It's sad, however, that they have few tools to maintain a continuous commitment.
This is where the AT comes in. It can give the Zen student concrete tools to help maintain their commitment moment after moment. The AT can help stop the neurotic preoccupation with getting getting ahead of ourself. It is sad that the AT has only one form and have no community for support.
Zen Forms are prompts to inhibit and direct. If we practice the Forms then we can begin to stop and see the moment for what it actually is, and then act based on our fundamental intention instead of out of habit. Our Zen ancestors did not know about the Alexander technique. But they gave us the gift of the Zen Forms which shows they did have some understanding of the power of inhibition and direction.
I'm writing this to urge you, as a Zen student, to study both the real meaning of the Forms, and to consider studying the Alexander Technique.
I welcome your criticism, thank you very much.
This essay is about the pervasive ignorance about them. It's very, very sad that such a huge part of our practice is, at best unexamined and underutilized. This post is about how the Forms are commonly understood, what the Forms could be, and how the AT can inform the practicing of the Forms. I love the Zen Forms. It is heart breaking to see how poorly understood - how abused - they are.
The Forms are a vast heterogeneous group of suggestions describing everything from daily schedules to the knots uses in our robes. From how to hold your eating bowls to how to walk during breaks. How loud to speak to how to cut vegetables. They can be ancient like what kind of knots to make in ones robe or more modern like silencing your cell phone during sitting. Some are for monastic settings and some are for community centers. Some have real impact of the quality of practice, like how to hold the hands during zazen and some seem quite arbitrary like what foot to use crossing a threshold. They are an odd collection.
You can use the Forms to do quite a bit. For example:
It can make you feel like a good Zen student once you think you have mastered them.
It can make you feel like a crummy student if you fail, repeatedly.
It can make you feel like one of the cool people in the Sangha, as opposed to those who are clueless, inconsiderate, and lacking in commitment as demonstrated by their non adherence to the Form.
Success in the Forms can elevate you the Repository of the Treasured Heart of The Practice (OK, I made that up).
It can be your job. Or your role in the world.
We can be use Forms to communication our shortcoming: the gap between our intention (following the Forms) and what we are actually doing revels quite a bit about ourselves to our teachers and fellow students.
They help us be less self concerned: 'Get up with the wakeup bell' helps us be less concerned with what we want or don't want.
They make us feel part of a group: we are supporting the group by employing the Forms and the group is supporting us.
You and your community can embody beauty through the practice of the Forms. 'Beauty' is a perceived quality that resonate with your fundamental perfection.
Zen forms are what you want them to be. So, what do you want out of your Sangha, your practice and the Forms? Is Zen your job and practicing the Forms your occupation? Is it an identity for you? A way to define "we" and "them"? A litmus test to tell who is part of your sangha and who is not? Are they something to get better at, something step by step to master? Is it an opportunity for you to teach those who are ignorant? Do you want the Forms to bring some order to your chaotic personal life? An anchor of meaning in an uncaring universe? Do you want them to be a convenience so that we don't have to think about how to do something? Are the Forms something that need cherishing and protecting? A religious icon? Are they here to help create a religious institution? In a monastic community, are they a way to communicate with each other: A way to let everyone know, "I'm doing well today" or "Today I'm a bit off, I'm not doing well". Whew, have I just scratch the surface?
Is there a fundamental use of the forms? Some people think that forms are here to extend our awareness. But I think this is a superficial understanding. Sure if we spend long hours trying to count our breaths we will need some antidote to this navel gazing. But I reject the notion that some antidote is needed to the practice of shikantaza. Do we really need to be 'aware' 10 times a day or 10,000 times a day. Is that really what Zen practice is about? Hey! The world is full of suffering!!! Maybe I'm too practical or maybe I'm stupid, or maybe I'm both, but I do not think that Zen practice is about being more 'aware'.
I beg you to consider Zen using the Forms as something else.
In you heart of hearts, what do you want out of your Zen practice? It's worth considering, because once you know what you want then you can use the Forms to further your goal.
And out of respect for our founders, what did the Ancestors want out us? In their heart of hearts, in one word, what do they that want for you and me?
Oh no. I seems I've written myself into a dark personal corner, and I'm sure none of you want to be here with me...
Ok, lets start over and try to be more practical. As long as I'm alive, I'll be doing stuff. Once I'm dead I won't be doing anything. This insight is from the Zen teacher Norman Fisher. Pretty basic, but I think it's important. And the stuff I do involves moving. Living things are alway moving, even while appearing nearly still. Dead thing are still. Living things can look pretty still, but actually they are always moving and doing something. But lets look at how I do this something. For me, the next thing I do might be done out of habit, not at all considered, done while half awake and preoccupied with what I want or where I want to be. But it does not have to be this way. I do not want it to be this way for me or for you either.
Thank goodness we actually have a choice in what to do in the next moment. But to have an alternative to this habitual, preoccupied, half awake way of acting we must have some commitment to act in a different way. We have to care about how we do this thing. Zen Forms are commitments, nothing more or less. Because there are lots and lots of 'doing' in our life, we need lots and lots of commitments or Forms. But it's OK to start out with one or two.
Might Zen Forms have any features?
One feature is Zen is that there are no limits. None of the many aspects of Zen have limits. Is our sitting limited to standing or lying down? Or take the vows: is the vow to save all beings just limited to your friends? Or just to those you think deserved to be saved? Or just humans? Or just those living now? Or all beings in the 10 directions? What about you toothbrush? Can you save your toothbrush?
How about the precepts? Where are the limits? Take "Do Not Kill". 'Not killing' is not limited to Not Killing you neighbor, or animals, or plants. It's not even limited to not killing thoughts or desires or aversions.
So what is special about the forms? Why should we assume there are limits to the forms? If we save a little old lady from getting run over, or if we manage to not killer the mo fo who cut us off in traffic, can we says that we have mastered 'saving' and 'not killing'?
Are we ever done with them? Do we graduate? Do we get a sabbatical from 'not killing'. Is there annual leave, spare time, retire at 65? Of course not.
So why should there be any limits to "Walk quietly"? What is your commitment to "walking quietly". Does it mean "quiet enough so that when I walk in the zendo I don't wake up my betters?" Or is it limited to throwing our whole self into each moment of walking so as not disturb one molecule of air? Is walking quietly limited to walking or does "walking quietly" mean not disturbing even one molecule of air even with not waking? Once you can do that, can you go beyond walking quietly and not walking quietly? Have you ever seen an old Zen student wildly abandon a form? It is a bizarre shocking event. Is that freedom?
Another feature of Zen is that its practice is not a step by step process. It's to be done fully, by each of us,, without reserve in this present moment. Sure, when you just start out with "walking quietly" your walking will sound different than one who has devoted most of her life to "walking quietly". But that does not mean her practice is better than yours. In fact, she might be day dreaming while walking. You can train a monkey to walk quietly. Does the monkey have good practice? Of course not, he's a monkey! If you want to improve "walking quietly" you improve by clarifying your intention and practicing persistently. Getting better at "walking quietly" has nothing at all to do with walking quietly! Zen forms is not a commitment to do anything! There are no mistakes in the practice of the Forms!
Finally, I want to propose that the reason we make the commitment is to be free. Have you made a commitment to 'walk quietly' to walk quietly? Well, what do you want out of your practice? For me, the Forms is a commitment to find some space. Once space is created we then have the possibility to act in a way we choose.
So the Forms are about a commitment. And the Forms are without limits like everything else in Zen. A limitless commitment. A limitless commitment that we fully and continually throw ourselves into without concern for improvement in order to create some space were we can act according to our deepest intention.
Lets take it apart into it's pieces. First I adopt the Form "walking quietly" as my intention. What I notice very quickly is how oblivious I am regrading how much sound I make when I walk. I am unconscious when I walk: I use myself out of habit. Over time I start to notice the stimulus to walk. Then, sometimes, I can stop my self from acting on the stimulus. I stop. I remind myself about my commitment to walk quietly. I can then then proceed with my commitment to walk quietly, or do something else, like nap. But it does not stop there. One must be on continual lookout for the stimulus to walk. At any moment our universe might send us sensations that prompt a stimulus or desire to walk. It's trick like that.
The Zen student have the benefit of a whole lot to individual forms they can adopt. And they have shikantaza to loosen our grasp of habitual responses and nurture a framework for continuos limitless commitment. It's sad, however, that they have few tools to maintain a continuous commitment.
This is where the AT comes in. It can give the Zen student concrete tools to help maintain their commitment moment after moment. The AT can help stop the neurotic preoccupation with getting getting ahead of ourself. It is sad that the AT has only one form and have no community for support.
Zen Forms are prompts to inhibit and direct. If we practice the Forms then we can begin to stop and see the moment for what it actually is, and then act based on our fundamental intention instead of out of habit. Our Zen ancestors did not know about the Alexander technique. But they gave us the gift of the Zen Forms which shows they did have some understanding of the power of inhibition and direction.
I'm writing this to urge you, as a Zen student, to study both the real meaning of the Forms, and to consider studying the Alexander Technique.
I welcome your criticism, thank you very much.
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