Orion Quin
Orion Quin  ·  A Series in Twelve Parts

The Everyday Zen

A tradition that has been thoroughly borrowed from, usually badly, and usually mixed up with the tea ceremony and the archery hall along the way. Twelve observations about attention, drawn from Zen and neighboring Japanese arts, considered alongside modern psychology — with the seams showing, and without pretending this is what Zen is.


Attention  ·  Psychology  ·  ~1 hr 25 min in total

In the beginner’s mind there are many possibilities; in the expert’s mind there are few.Shunryu Suzuki

§What this is, and what it isn’t

One reader’s working use of a religious tradition

Zen has been borrowed from more thoroughly than almost any other tradition, and most of the borrowing has been poor — a vocabulary of stillness applied to interior decoration and productivity systems. I have no interest in adding to that, and I am aware that writing twelve essays about it is not obviously a way of avoiding it.

So let me be exact about what is in here, because the exactness is the first honest thing I can offer. These essays draw on several things that are related but not identical: Zen practice proper; the Japanese tea ceremony; kyūdō, the art of the bow; and an aesthetic vocabulary — wabi-sabi, ma — that developed alongside all of them without belonging to any one of them. The Western habit of calling the whole cluster “Zen” is largely a twentieth-century invention, and a contested one. Where I cross between them, I say so in the essay rather than leaving it to a footnote.

And what sits at the center of Zen as a practice is not in here at all. That is zazen — seated meditation, done daily, for years, usually with a teacher and usually in a community — together with the precepts, the ethical commitments a practitioner formally takes on. Zen communities do not treat those as background conditions for the interesting ideas. They treat them as the practice, of which everything I discuss here is a byproduct at best. A reader who took this series as an introduction to Zen would have the byproducts and none of the thing.

What these are, then: twelve observations about attention that I find useful and that come from this cluster of traditions. Each one takes an idea, asks whether it holds up, reads it alongside the psychology where the two overlap, and says plainly where I am drawing a connection rather than reporting a result. Each one also has a section on where the idea gets misused, because most of them get misused in a specific and predictable way.

One source note. Eugen Herrigel’s Zen in the Art of Archery is the book that made “Zen archery” familiar in English, and the scholarship on it — Yamada Shōji’s in particular — argues that it substantially misrepresents what Herrigel was taught. I do not use it as evidence for what Zen says. It still appears in four of the source lists, labeled there as what it is here — the object of the critique rather than a support for it — because the Western idea of “Zen archery” is part of what these essays are examining, and pretending the book does not exist would be its own kind of dishonesty.

Read them in order if you want the shape — it is a circle, which the last one explains. Or take whichever title describes your week.

01
The Thing You Stopped Seeing
Zen holds beginner’s mind above expertise, which sounds like a nice idea until you notice what it is actually describing: the specific way competence stops you from seeing the thing you are competent at.
Attention · Learning  ·  ~7 min read
02
The Supervisor
A seventeenth-century monk wrote to a swordsman about the mind that stops nowhere. Four centuries later the laboratories described the same thing under an uglier name. On the inner voice that checks your work while you are doing it, and why it makes you worse.
Performance · Attention  ·  ~7 min read
03
Staying for the Ending
In the archery hall the shot is not over when the arrow leaves. On zanshin, the remaining mind — and the attention most of us withdraw from everything about one moment too early.
Attention · Habits  ·  ~7 min read
04
One Thing, All the Way
The smallest teaching in Zen, and possibly the whole of it: do one thing with the entire self and nothing alongside it. On the arithmetic of a divided hour, and why the count keeps creeping above one.
Attention · Work  ·  ~7 min read
05
This Will Not Happen Again
Four words sometimes hung on the wall of a tea room: one time, one meeting. On the arithmetic of gatherings — and on the way a familiar name hides the thing that never repeats.
Attention · Relationships  ·  ~7 min read
06
Nothing Goes Into a Full Cup
A professor visits a master to ask about Zen, and the tea goes on pouring past the brim. On being coachable — the one trait that keeps predicting improvement — and on the three things that fill a cup while wearing the costume of progress.
Learning · Feedback  ·  ~7 min read
07
Before and After, the Same Chores
Before enlightenment: chop wood, carry water. After enlightenment: chop wood, carry water. The saying works by disappointment, and then hands back most of a life.
Work · Meaning  ·  ~7 min read
08
The Gap Is Doing the Work
Japanese keeps a word English never quite made: ma, the charged interval between things. The pause that makes the music, the white that makes the ink speak — and the half of everything that is not doing.
Rest · Attention  ·  ~7 min read
09
Mended in Gold
The tea master’s favorite bowl is the cracked one, and the repair is done in gold so the fracture shows. On the difference between high standards and perfectionism, which forty years of research says is not the same thing at all.
Psychology · Perfectionism  ·  ~7 min read
10
The Problem That Gets Worse When You Push
Zen trains students on questions engineered to defeat force. On the difference between a problem that yields to effort and one that deepens under it — and what to do when you have been grinding at the second kind.
Problems · Thinking  ·  ~7 min read
11
The Finger and the Moon
When a teacher points at the moon, the old texts say, the fool studies the finger. On the numbers that were built to point at something — the score, the ranking, the metric — and what happens when the eye stops on the pointer.
Measurement · Attention  ·  ~7 min read
12
One Breath, One Line
In Zen calligraphy the final teaching is often a single circle, drawn in one breath and never corrected. Some masters leave it open on purpose. The closing essay of the series, drawn as a circle.
Practice · Closing  ·  ~7 min read