Finding The Way in My Phone

Photo (by me) of part of a wild house in my 'hood, which happens to accurately capture my spiritual life

I'm always striving to give people, including myself, room in my heart and mind without holding chains around them in my heart and mind.

Earlier this year, I was doing a program at my Zen Buddhist temple. It's a place I've loved and belonged to for a long time, close to twenty years. It gave me a place to be still and quiet with others, and that felt special and important. Doing this program was supposed to help me deepen my meditation practice; to move beyond the simple concentration instruction given at the public service.

But the things I was expected to do in the program didn't feel right. Like memorizing long chants in a different language, doing regular overnight retreats, learning to play the moktak, going to all the services, learning about the historical Buddha, lots of other things. They are all beautiful tools for learning and training the mind and being an educated practitioner. Committing myself to them, though, and to that extent, felt like getting off at the wrong bus stop, trying to find home in a neighborhood that wasn't mine.

I had a difficult conversation with the Zen priest leading the program. Maybe I wasn't thriving because I wasn't able to live at the temple, my work and family too central to my life. Maybe chants and sutras aren't meant to be memorized alone, isolated from community. Maybe it was just getting hard, and I couldn't cut it. The priest is a kind and understanding person, so it was all good. But I was really surprised by the way shit turned out. Sometimes, you need to do things to figure out that you don't want to do things. (Reason for high divorce rate? Lol.)

The program led me away from the program, and toward remembering my initial intention: to deepen my meditation practice. To go mind-exploring, beyond the strictures of focusing on breathing and counting. To tap into other ways to be, think, experience life on earth as a human. I found what I was looking for in a motherfucking app.

I'm not about to become a commercial for this app (maybe a little), but I'll tell you about it. It's called The Way, and it's created by this lovely Zen priest, poet and author Henry Shukman. I've used other meditation apps, but I've found Henry's teaching style and app structure to be the best (for me).

In the app, you progress along a path made up of daily meditations (Sits), clustered around a topic (Retreats), which are grouped around a wider topic (a Trail). For example, today I did a meditation called "Restful and Aware," which is part of a Retreat on the topic of "Presence" on a trail called "The Aspects of Being." (This kind of stuff is my jam.)

Within the app, and throughout the Trails, Henry teaches Buddhist concepts and leads you through super interesting meditations with a spirit of experimentation. There is a timer for unguided meditation, for when you're not in the mood. Henry's voice is deep, resonant and British (yes, please). Using The Way, I don't decide which meditation I'm doing that day (like other apps), rather, I do the next one on the path. I'm allowed to go back, but not to skip ahead. This makes it feel like a genuine student/teacher relationship.

Okay, that's enough about the app. And this little post is not a dis on my temple, which I think of fondly, which I haven't been to in months. I may or may not go back. I'm not trying to put a pin in it, because, like I said at the beginning of this post, no chains. Let it be, let it breathe.

As much as I've resonated with Buddhism and keep returning to its teachings and practices, I always return to the truth of Octavia Butler's refrain: God is change. Everything is temporary, shifting, temporal, including me and my relationship with the temple. And what's more Buddhist than that?