Reflection and Contemplation: Two Oars for Rowing

    I am always a bit leery, to be honest, when people say things like "don't just think about Zen; directly experience it!" This approach--which some have compared to eating instead of simply looking at the menu--makes me feel that thought is divorced from so called life. In fact, both "direct experience" and "thought" are just variations on thought. As soon as I even become conscious of anything, there is already a sense of subject and object. So I don't think it's necessary to rage war against thought. The claim that some think meditation instead of doing meditation seems a bit extreme and dualistic. I would suggest instead that all are just functions of the mind, and leave it at that.

   There is this fantasy that somehow if only I let go of all the "bad" things that make me chained to a life of vexations, addictions, and so on, then I would reach this pristine state of being. It could be called "the moment", "now", "the present" and so on, but whatever we call it, there is always a sense that something out there is better, more clear, more pristine. And we keep trying to get that experience, even to the point where we discriminate between those who "have it" (sages) and those who don't (neurotics). But I think the whole point of practice is that whatever we are doing, thinking, feeling in the present, are really just functions of mind. We should never feel afraid of these things, since they are impermanent. 

Being able to directly experience impermanence does not mean we just "ditch" our thoughts, but nor does it mean that we try to seek "clearer" or "better" thoughts. Instead, we simply experience the temporality of thoughts and their contingent, provisional nature. This involves both an appreciation for the ability to think and make sense of the world, and a light attitude: let's not fall too deeply into our thoughts, or become enthralled in the search for perfect thoughts, knowing that they will all be washed up with the tides. But we need not dismiss thoughts either. They have their place, just like the oars on a boat have a place in steering the boat. Oars do not control the boat--they only gently direct the boat to where we need it to go. In the same way, we need reflections, thoughts, concepts, to be able to add shape and sense to our experiences, but we don't need to urgently cling to them. They are just there to help us steer clear of trouble and stay on an even path.