Day of the Sidestep

 

I'm approaching my goal of becoming an urban monk as a practicing Contemplative Stoic.

I can't honestly call myself a Zen Buddhist anymore, although I have absolutely no quarrels with Zen or its teachings. But Zen, as I understand Master Dogen's description, is an unmistakable handed-down tradition from teacher to student, and I've stepped outside of that line of transmission.

That's not a worry though. I still read Dogen and I still practice zazen. I've found many similarities, though, between the teachings of the Greek Stoic philosophers and the Zen teachers, although the practice of meditation seems to be missing from Stoic philosophy. I'm familiar, of course, with Marcus Aurelius' Meditations, but that's really more an anthology of "deep thoughts" than meditation practice in the Buddhist sense.

So in good ol' American DIY fashion, I've fused Stoicism with Zen practice and call it "Contemplative Stoicism." It's really a good marriage, as the discipline of sitting meditation, putting one's mind where you want it, when you want it, for as long as you want it, helps to build the famous resolve of Stoicism.

Another thing I like about Stoicism, a philosophy, as opposed to Zen Buddhism, a religion, is the former doesn't have the latter's gatekeepers and nannies constantly telling folks that they still don't quite have it right yet. If your understanding of Marcus Aurelius and Epictetus isn't the same as some Oxford professor who's read them in the original Greek, it doesn't matter. You can take what you need and leave the rest, a la carte. 

Zen teachers will say I'm giving up on my chance at enlightenment, and I'd say, enlightenment's bunk. I've been to a lot of Zen centers and met a lot of teachers, both Japanese and American, and have yet to meet an "enlightened" person. Besides, Master Dogen teaches that practice is enlightenment, and that all of us are enlightened in the moments that we are practicing zazen. So excuse me while I pass on buying your snake oil.

Zen is usually practiced in the Chinese and Japanese traditions by monks and in monastic settings. But stories abound about monks who left the monastery and practiced on their own in the isolation of mountaintops and deep forests. Mountain monks and forest monks. I argue that in the midst of all the hustle and bustle of the city, it's as equally possible to be isolated as in the classic settings. In fact, isolation and alienation are real mental-health problems in our cities today. But as opposed to the householder living with a spouse, partner, or children, it's quite possible for one living on their own to achieve near monastic isolation in the city. It's a lot noisier that the forest or the mountaintop, sure, but the distractions are in your head, not in the environment. 

I live alone, I dine alone, and at nights I read and sleep alone. I'm retired and don't need to go to a job, nor worry about earning a wage. I live with a pet cat, who helps me practice patience and compassion. My days alternate between walking-hiking and sitting meditation. Today was a walking day, yesterday and tomorrow are meditation days. I interact with neighbors and shopkeepers compassionately and kindly. If that doesn't meet your expectations for a Zen monk, fine - I'm not claiming to be one. It's what I call a Contemplative Stoic urban monk, and it is what it is because I make it so.

Works for me, but (and I mean this kindly) you do you.