瞑想とは何かWhat Meditation Is
Do you engage in meditation when you rise in the morning, or perhaps before you succumb to sleep at night?
When one speaks of meditation, the methods available today are innumerable, ranging from styles rooted in Indian tradition to the Zen practices of Japan. Yet, do you truly grasp the perspective that meditation is not merely a tool for relaxation, but fundamentally a method for treating the root cause of the malady that we, as human beings, inherently carry?
I practice meditation solely at night, before sleep. As for the method—or perhaps I should call it the style—after years of trial and error, I eventually arrived at a practice that resonated viscerally with me. It is what is known as Seiza [静座].
This is somewhat intricate, for in the Japanese language, the sound “Seiza" holds two distinct meanings. Generally, the Seiza [正座] spoken of in Japan implies "sitting correctly" within the context of etiquette, used in settings such as the tea ceremony. However, the Seiza [静座] I refer to here, though identical in sound, differs in meaning: it is to "sit in stillness." Both carry nuances of discipline, but I personally understand Seiza [静座] to hold a stronger connotation of self-cultivation.
Furthermore, while Seiza [正座] is connected to the lineage of Zen, the source of Seiza [静座] lies not in Zen, but in Confucianism. Consequently, because a deeply Confucian philosophy flows through Seiza [静座], one receives the impression that its way of thinking differs significantly when compared to Zen or Buddhist meditation.
Personally, I sense that the majority of what is discussed in the context of modern mindfulness—as represented by Zen meditation—sets its objective on the practitioner removing idle thoughts to reach a state of Mu [無] (Nothingness). Indeed, many practitioners of Zen believe that the state of nothingness lies where these idle thoughts have been eliminated, and there is a prevalent tendency to perceive reaching that state as the very purpose of meditation.
Admittedly, idle thoughts are troublesome companions in human daily life. They hinder our performance in the real, obstruct our lives and our ways of thinking, and at times, through hesitation or delusion, lead us in the wrong direction. Therefore, it may be inevitable that we detest idle thoughts in the course of living. Historically speaking, it is a fact that since idle thoughts were born within humans, their existence has been viewed as problematic; one could say that the archetype of religion surged into action initially as an answer to this.
In a sense, I personally believe that the source of religion originates in how we interpret and handle the idle thoughts generated by the development of the human brain. Because the methods, practices, and philosophies for this differ according to the regulations of each region, various forms of religious germination occurred worldwide. For instance, making God the ideal, making a specific figure the ideal, or making nature itself the ideal—the early forms of faith vary. Yet, in any case, it is a fact that by first considering this problem of idle thoughts, the radical nature of all religions becomes visible. Taking this into account, we see that the issue is a universal one: how do we, in the modern age, handle these idle thoughts that are directly linked to human history?
To confront this problem, I will now conduct my own inquiry into what the true fruit of Zen is.
Generally, meditation emphasizes the premise: "Do not be trapped by idle thoughts." There are broadly two ways to deal with these thoughts: one is the method of elimination, and the other is the method of neglect. However, herein lies the first problem. To seek the correct grasping and removal of idle thoughts in the practice of meditation implies that the stream of thoughts has not stopped. In this state, no matter how many idle thoughts one removes, one cannot reach the state of nothingness. Nay, the very attempt to reach the state of nothingness is, in itself, a human desire.
The method born as a reaction to this is the method of neglecting idle thoughts, premised on the idea that there is no need to transform the thoughts themselves into different sentiments. Personally, I feel Zen has placed its weight on this side. I believe this is typical of D.T.Suzuki, who popularized Zen globally; his characteristic lies in rejecting the conventional methodology that denies the birth of idle thoughts, and instead preaching the practice of Zen by actively affirming idle thoughts itself.
In other words, in the very act of seeking a state of nothingness or a state of stillness, peoples' hesitation may actually be arising. Conversely, people hesitate in how to deal with the arising of this hesitation. If one falls into an endless loop of "hesitation about hesitation about hesitation," it is difficult to escape alone; hence, figures such as masters are sought after. However, it is doubtful whether those regarded as masters truly understand this problem themselves.
Ultimately, does not the concept of a better human life converge on how one can immerse oneself in one's own life without hesitation and live it through to the end? regardless of circumstances, regardless of the life led, if one can constantly respond appropriately to the Mayoi that arises and immerse oneself in the mission one must fulfill until the final moment of death—that is the most felicitous life.
In that respect, the great error—as D.T.Suzuki frequently sounded the alarm against—is that if the interpretation of the state of nothingness refers merely to a condition of having nothing, that is, a state without idle thoughts, it leads to a perilous downfall. In fact, products and services packaged spiritually for the consumer society as the destination of meditation are rampant with this sloppy recognition, simply because it is easier for users to understand and easier to convert into currency. However, just because idle thoughts arise during meditation, trying to remove them is essentially self-interest; one must recognize that even the attempt to remove desire is itself a desire.
Therefore, we can see the beginning of the downfall in the very act of setting a purpose for meditation as a major premise. Because idle thoughts occur, one makes it a purpose to remove them, or a purpose to neglect them, or even a purpose to view them objectively. Various purposes can be established, but these are merely generalizations of a single aspect extracted from the effects of meditation. Rather, the quality meditation possessed to treat the root of human illness becomes obscured by this. This is not limited to Zen meditation but applies equally to Confucian Seiza. This too has historically shifted out of alignment; there are likely none left who understand and practice its core essential qualities. However, if asked what the essential point of Seiza is, it is to consider that the very act of knowing a thought as idle thoughts is, in itself, awakening (or in Zen terms, Satori).
Reflecting on this, what is truly important is not to agonize over the occurrence of idle thoughts, nor to worry that one is immature because one is misled by them. Much less should one create confusion by trying to deal with idle thoughts as an object, or neglecting them, or devising some solution. The fact that one has known idle thoughts as idle thoughts is, in reality, what is vital for a human being to live.
When we think this way, a scene is visualized where people are wandering lost in a world without meaning or solution, losing their place within that endless loop. Thus, when it is said "Do not be trapped by idle thoughts," or "There is no need to change them into other thoughts," or "One should devise various methods for meditation or Seiza," we can understand that these are not the essence, but merely parts of the ornate decoration that has historically adhered to meditation. It is precisely because they are ornate decorations that they stand out across eras and captivate people, but the fruit of meditation is not found there. Rather, this is the very root from which people's Mayoi arises.
At this juncture, the problem of Sei [静] (Stillness) and Do [動] (Motion) surfaces from the Eastern standard. One answer to this is to enter stillness itself, and to enter Motion itself. To put it another way, entering Motion itself is stillness, and entering stillness itself is Motion. This can be termed The Non-separation of stillness and Motion [静動非分離] or The Union of stillness and Motion [静動合一]. By grasping this form, the true value of Zen becomes visible in a certain sense. However, this is not something to be understood as knowledge; it is a state unreachable unless embodied within each individual's daily life.
As I examined the history of Japanese Zen, something became dimly visible: the greatest characteristic of Zen, and the point where I personally believe Zen excels, is its attitude that everything begins from first understanding one's own limits. I believe this is a magnificent mindset.
After all, in most religions, setting limits at the outset becomes an obstacle from the perspective of acquiring believers and proselytizing. Therefore, they cover up limits and idealize them, or set the destination in a transcendental place. Personally, I view Zen as originally born from a reaction in human daily life against this religious movement. What is interesting about Zen is that it sets a limit beforehand—acknowledging that the covered-up ideals set by religion or the arrival at a transcendental existence are impossible—and positions that limit value as already existing within oneself. Through this, the singular religious dogma is dismantled, and it becomes possible for Zen to present an answer optimized for each individual. This is because Zen considers that the limit value differs for each person. And the profound logic of Zen lies in the purity of the premise that, beyond that limit, as long as a human is human, no one can possibly know.
In other words, when we consider where Zen has set one's own limits, and what Zen preached upon setting those limits, we can truly touch the heart of Zen. What is important here is not that "a Zen monk who learned Zen preached it," but that "Zen itself preached it." I consider this characteristic of Zen to be Teinen [諦念] (Resignation/Enlightened Acceptance) in Buddhist concepts. The fact that this Teinen is actually extremely important for us is the very crux of Zen's teaching.
For humans, inevitably, once they reach a certain enlightenment or destination, they cannot avoid becoming increasingly greedy. Especially under modern capitalism, this movement becomes pronounced and uncorrectable. This is because people believe the law of eternal upward growth will continue forever. However, the idea that upward growth continues forever is a joke, nothing more than irony. That is why, if we ask what we can learn from Zen now, we should not learn formalized methods or styles of meditation, but rather learn to "set Teinen first," which is the essence of Zen. Simply put, "think of the end first."
Start by knowing your own limits, and then consider living your life by calculating backward from those limits. Unless each individual—even those who are not supporters of Zen—becomes intimately familiar with this superior method of Zen, the illusion of eternal upward growth will never end. Because by understanding within our own limits that upward growth is not eternal, we are able to think of the ending at the very moment we attempt to begin something. Living while thinking of this ending is what was once extremely important as a Japanese virtue. The Japanese of the past were able to live their lives gracefully precisely because they thought of the end. The reason the Samurai and Zen showed such close mutual understanding is that both knew that everything begins by thinking of the end. This is the fruit of Zen.
Conversely, a life that does not consider the end will inevitably become protracted and lose its vitality. especially in the modern age, it is not difficult to start something, but it is excruciatingly difficult to think of the end. Indeed, when you start some project in life, have you ever proceeded by thinking of the ending first? Most likely, the answer for most is no. To think of how to end before beginning a project is actually the most difficult yet indispensable issue in the modern era, yet people's eyes are not turned here at all. That is, they do not even know this way of thinking exists. Hence, they simply start things one after another, clinging to the attempt to continue that upward growth. As a result, people become exhausted, lose interest in their own projects, lose their heat, and eventually drift toward fading out. This is because there is no eternal upward growth.
What Zen teaches is an admonition against this tendency. It is to first understand your own limits, and while calculating backward from those limits, create possibilities. The reason is that one's own limits naturally differ from person to person. Religion unifies this and generalizes humans, prescribing and establishing that "there is a single limit" or "there is a single destination" or "there is a transcendental destination" to acquire believers. But the interesting part of Zen is that it captures at the outset that this differs for everyone. I view this as the historical root where Zen in China inherited the original character of Confucianism. That is, traditional Confucianism in China met the foreign Zen, and the flow of the "marriage of philosophy" that occurred there was ultimately transmitted to Japan and metabolized uniquely. Thinking this way may seem complex and bizarre, but simply put, it is the optimal answer for each individual.
This creates an opportunity for you to think for yourself: where are my own limits? Where must I first find Teinen? However, at this time, almost everyone will likely realize that they know too little about themselves. This realization—the point is, the very attainment of the knowledge that one does not know oneself first—can be interpreted casually as true awakening. And this standpoint of thought is the starting point of the extremely important internal exploration I envision, and the true interest of life. In other words, realizing "I do not know myself" is the beginning, and through that, one must first thoroughly understand oneself through introspection. This understanding is not to explore one's possibilities first, but actually to know one's limits. If one thinks of possibilities first, thought becomes scattered and dissipates; but if one understands limits first, possibilities become naturally clear through that regulation.
The modern world, in particular, is scattered to every corner with the delusion that "individuals can become anything" or "there is every possibility," and this damages people's lives. However, this is not so. Rather, an individual has individual grounding (quality), and because there is grounding, there are limits. Just as life begins to shine by thinking of death, possibilities begin to shine by knowing limits. By premising this reversal of thought, various modern problems become visible as if held in the palm of one's hand. The greatest problem of the modern age is likely comparison with "someone else" at the individual level, but if one understands the possibility of one's grounding from one's own limits, anyone can understand that such comparison is foolish. After discerning that limit value to some extent, one performs Teinen. By performing the "thought of resignation (acceptance)," life finally begins to shine in the Zen method of practice.
I believe these are actually the core of meditation, and originally, those who teach meditation must guide individuals with different approaches so that practitioners can reach such places. However, although meditation gatherings are held variously worldwide, including in Japan, such methods are impossible merely by gathering a large crowd in one place and meditating under a single master. What will emerge as a demand in the future is the development of meditation that faces each individual, and the very basis of that will be what I have stated here.
Tonight, or perhaps tomorrow morning—the method or style of meditation does not matter—please try engaging in it once with this thought as your premise. It may be best to start by observing how you feel about idle thoughts themselves.