07/10/2023
Enjoy this short piece about practice at Mon Ko Dojo Zen in Mexico City. Below is a portion.
(My blog has been banned by Meta. To read the rest of the travelogue entry, go to garyenns dot com. Just type it in, old school, no spaces.✌🏻🇲🇽)
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At Mon Ko Dojo Zen it’s just the two of us this morning. Over nine-million people in Mexico City, and nobody else shows up. Probably not surprising to other Zen practitioners. It’s early on a weekday, over an hour commitment, and for what? “What’s zazen good for?” Kodo Sawaki asks, then answers, “Absolutely nothing! This ‘good for nothing’ has got to sink into your flesh and bones until you actually practice what is truly good for nothing.” When you face the precipice of this good-for-nothing, Zen can initially seem stark, or worse yet, downright bleak. The vast stillness suddenly reveals, in stark contrast, all your terrifying demons and ghosts. S…! This is me?! You’ve cornered the ego, and there’s no escape for it or for you, unless of course you jump up, run down the spiral staircase, and get back to “normal.” Why would anybody choose to take precious time out of their day to do practice this?
The small showing, though not surprising, feels significant, like seeing, at the pound, something special in the emaciated kitten nobody else wants. You are the one who chooses it, you take it up in your arms, and suddenly your life changes, your path forks off into unknown territories, the kitten in your arms becomes a lion—your lion. Here, at Mon Ko Dojo, we two have chosen something that nine million other ciudedanos have not, and this moment shines.
