The Way of Seeking Mind by Jisen

JIsen receiving the Precepts.

The Way of Seeking Mind.

By Paula Jisen Saracen

When Shinzan first asked me to do this talk, to answer the questions … How did you come to this practice? and how does it nourish your life? … I thought, well my journey to Zen was so quick. I was first exposed to the practice in September 2018 at the New York Zen Center for Contemplative Care and by January 2019, just 4 months later, I had already attended my first Sesshin and had decided to do Jukai with Shinzan that year. It felt a bit like a whirlwind at the time but as I reflected back on my journey here for this talk tonight, it has actually been a very long and slowly unfolding path to this practice. Finding Zen felt like a convergence of so many aspects of my life that finally came together all at once, and I’ve never once doubted where my choices during that time have brought me, it felt like finally finding my home, my path, that I was on the right one, and I had been the whole time.

For me, my journey began about 27 years ago when I first took up the practice of yoga. I saw yoga at the time as an exercise, something that I would transition into more completely when my running days were over which happened in my 40s. When I moved back to San Diego about 14 years ago, yoga really clicked for me. I started doing power yoga and I was hooked. It was heated and it was a tough workout. I knew there was “spirituality” behind the practice but it wasn’t until I took a class at my yoga studio for advanced Yogi’s that the light bulb finally went off. I thought this advance training class was about learning how to do a better handstand and other super cool inversions. I was so proud of myself that at 45 I could finally do the splits and all sorts of headstands and arm balances. I was completely shocked to find out the class was actually all about real yoga, which is simply a way to warm up the body in order to sit for long periods of meditation. We learned how the physical practice of yoga is just a very small part of Patanjali’s Yoga Sutra, the eight-limbed path which is basically the guidelines on how to live a meaningful and purposeful life. The eight limbed path is a prescription for moral and ethical conduct and self-discipline, it directs attention toward one’s health and it helps us to acknowledge the spiritual aspects of our nature.

You would think at this time, with Buddhism right in front of me, that I would have jumped on the path, but I didn’t. It just opened another door for me to explore, which was the mind-body connection, and this is when I first began to meditate. I started at the Self-Realization Fellowship temple (or for short SRF) in Hillcrest which was founded by Paramahasama Yogananda. He was an Indian monk, yogi and guru who came to America in 1920 and introduced millions in the U.S. to the teachings of mediation and Kriya Yoga. He lived his last 32 years in America, actually in Southern California, and has several locations here in San Diego. I loved meditating at the SRF temple because of the way it made me feel afterwards. The mediations were long, usually about an hour, and mentally challenging. You’d sit in a chair with people all around you, afraid to breathe loudly or even to swallow. It forced you to be completely still, something I was never good at. And afterwards, you felt amazing! To me, mediation again was like yoga, it was for my health... a healthy mind means a healthy body.

I did find SRF to be too religious, it felt like they practiced a cross between Christianity and Buddhism. But everyone there was so kind and peaceful, I started saying to myself, if I ever became religious, I would be a Buddhist. It was the best “religion” I thought.

And that brings me to my thoughts on “religion,” and why my journey to Zen may have been so long. I became an atheist in high school when I took an oceanography class and studied the big bang theory, evolution, plate tectonics, I was awed by science, it all made sense. Science became my new religion. Traditional religion to me was the opiate of the masses, and I still believe that today. Also, being an independent spirited American, I never wanted to belong to a group, I never wanted to be categorized or labeled. I was a lone wolf on my individual path. The concept of sangha, I couldn’t even fathom.

As my journey into meditation developed, I also visited Deer Park Monastery in Escondido for days and weekend retreats. Founded by Thich Nat Hanh, it was my first real introduction to Zen. For me, it was a retreat, an escape from the hectic world. But again, I found some of the songs and teachings too religious for me, there was the God word which I was so averse to, and men had to be separate from women. But I’d watch the Vietnamese nuns there, no makeup, shaven heads, simple robes. We’d be silent from 9pm until after breakfast. Then when the bell would ring, the nuns would break into laughter. They were so happy, so joyful, always laughing and smiling. How could that be? What was their secret? I then began to think, when I grow up, I want to be a Buddhist monk.

Another important aspect of my life, is my work with the elderly and people on hospice which I have always identified as my true purpose and why I am here on this planet. My great-grandmothers and my grandmother here in Chula Vista helped raise me. They taught me so many things, they were so patient and wise and kind. I was an extremely shy child growing up, I spent so much time with them, they were my best friends. I’ve always just connected with older people and I’ve never understood why in our American culture that they aren’t respected and revered as our elders, our guides in life. And for some reason, I am not afraid to be with sick people, or dying people. Some people turn away, maybe out of fear that it could one day happen to them, and it will definitely one day happen to them. But for me, I’ve always ran towards them, I see them alone, I see suffering, and that’s where I want to be.

I’ve also felt a deep sense of giving back to the community, of volunteerism. Maybe that came from my formative years after college living in San Francisco, the importance of community and giving back was intrinsic to the city at the time which was reeling from the AIDs epidemic. I worked there in the fast-paced corporate world, but on the weekends I would visit elderly people in their homes and sit with the sick and dying in hospice wards. Though the worlds were so separate, it kept me balanced. It allowed me to show my compassion, to give back to others. And I also just loved doing it. It has always felt like I was getting much more back than I was giving.

So this is the part of my story when two worlds collide, and bam, things just started speeding up. In the beginning of 2018, I went to India. There was a mediation school there and I wanted to deepen my meditation practice. People thought because I was meditating so much, I could help them. Mindfulness was such a buzz word at the time, friends and acquaintances wanted to learn how to do it. So I went to the source, a Yogic meditation school in Goa, India. I spent hours and hours during the day meditating in a dark cave-like room. We’d do yoga, chant, do breathing exercises and learn all the techniques of meditation. In the evenings, we’d learn the history of India and meditation and the Vedic traditions like Buddhism. In India, they don’t call Hinduism, Sikhism, Buddhism, etc. religions, my teacher said they don’t believe in religion there. They consider them spiritual traditions and the goal is to reach Samadhi, also known as Nirvana. But I didn’t want to reach Samadhi, and I didn’t want to spend several lifetimes getting there. Again, my meditation and yoga practice deepened, but my attraction to the practice of Buddhism did not.

Shortly after I returned from India, a neighbor of mine knowing that I had just went to India for meditation, told me about this podcast called 10% Happier with Dan Harris. He interviews people about their meditation practice and he has many of the greats on there. And that is where I found Koshin and Chodo. They are a married couple, Zen Buddhist Senseis, who are engaging, amazing, funny, compassionate, and they love hospice work! Together they founded the NY Zen Center for Contemplative Care in the Chelsea neighborhood of New York City and their focus is to train people on how to sit with the sick and dying in a contemplative way. Of course at the time I had no idea what contemplative meant or even how to say it. At the time I was finding myself spending many hours of my day sitting with hospice patients though I wasn’t even a hospice worker at the time. I was a rights advocate with the County of San Diego for residents of long-term care facilities, but I would see so many people laying in bed dying alone so I would sit with them. I felt I needed training. What do you say to someone who is dying? How do you make them feel better? Do you play music? Do you hold their hand? I didn’t know what to do and I wanted someone to train me. And that is exactly what Chodo and Koshin do, they train people how to do hospice in a Buddhist way. How perfect was that!

I spent a full day just doing my online application for their Foundations program, and to qualify for the program you had to complete an in person interview, in New York City. I actually had to fly there twice, my first interview was cancelled, so a few weeks later I took a red-eye, completed my 40-minute interview, then flew right back home. There were many red-eyes and flights over the next 10 months of the program, in total I made 13 flights to New York City. Fortunately, my husband travels a lot and the flights were all free, paid for with miles and I was able to stay with my brother in New Jersey. The Foundations program required one weekend a month in New York city, I had lived in New York City before and was so happy to be back. My whole heart was in this, that’s how I knew I was on the right path.

I will never forget my first day at the center, my first moments stepping into that Zendo. I had never been in a Zendo before, I didn’t know when to bow, or sit, or any of the chants and practices, but I didn’t feel uncomfortable. For Chodo and Koshin, what was important was intention and doing things with your whole heart, not whether or not you got all the steps right. It gave me the permission and comfort to dive right into the practice. They didn’t require that we be Zen Buddhist or practice in any way to be in the program, but the whole program was taught through a Zen Buddhist lens and the basis for the program was the Precepts.

Each month we would focus on a different precept. We would spend the weekend in New York City learning all about the precept and then for the rest of the month we would go back to our homes where we were required to have a hospice internship where we could put that precept into practice. Before returning the next month, we’d write a paper about how we worked with the precept that month in our hospice work as well as our personal lives. The Foundations program quickly became not only a way to be with the sick and dying but how to live our lives. It may be strange to say, but I fell in love with the precepts. They weren’t like commandments of right and wrong, but a light in the darkness, a guide, something to practice and learn from for a lifetime. I also learned the importance of ritual and how it added something to my life that was lacking, that I wanted. There was no mention of God, there was no heaven or hell, there was just today, and not even that, just this moment. Living life moment by moment with the precepts as my guide.

I remember walking to the subway after that very long and intense first weekend thinking I don’t have to do anything or be anyone. I can just be. I can just sit. I felt like this huge weight had fallen from my shoulders, all this searching and grasping for something, I didn’t even know what, the search was now over. I can just sit and hold a hand, look into someone’s eyes, pay attention and really see them, simply bearing witness to their suffering. I do not need to say anything special or do anything. I can feel uncomfortable, sad, joyful. Human connection and love, that is our true nature. I have to say, I knew I wanted to become a Zen Buddhist and do Jukai after that very first weekend. The Zen Peacemaker Order, I had found my community, my sangha.

Finding a local sangha in San Diego, however, was a bit more difficult for me. I went to the Open Heart sangha at the Dharma Bum temple, I went to the San Diego Zen Center in Pacific Beach. They didn’t feel like the sangha or a place of practice for me. And I wanted a teacher, a sensei in San Diego to help me continue on my Buddhist path. I remember talking to my mentor in the Foundations program one day. I was planning on attending the New York Zen Center’s winter sesshin in a couple of weeks and she said she thought one of their guest teachers lives and teaches at a Zen Center in San Diego, Sweetwater Zen Center. So the next Sunday I went. I couldn’t believe it when I arrived at the address! It was a few blocks from one of my nursing homes I visit regularly, I have been driving past the center for over 10 years and never even noticed it was there. Roshin was the first person I met, it was just her and I in the beginning class before the Sunday services, she was and still is to me humble, wise, loving, with a heart of gold. I asked her if she knew Shinzan. I laugh at that now thinking of just how good of friends they are. The place seemed magical to me, the people wonderful. I don’t remember everyone I met that day, I remember Dojin and Chowa, Shinzan was out of town. I just remember thinking, I found my sangha.

The next week I flew to NY to attend my first sesshin where I first met Shinzan. I loved his dharma talk, he has such a huge heart, I felt I could learn so much from him. I had absolutely no idea what I was supposed to be doing at sesshin, I was a bit lost, but Chodo and Koshin said to just be there with my whole heart, with intention, and to enjoy the magic of sesshin. It did feel like magic to me. I remember getting to the Newark airport right after and watching all the people rushing around, I felt so connected to everyone, I wanted to give them all a big hug. For the first time, I really felt a part of the world, not a bystander watching it pass by in front of me. Every book I read for the Foundations program, every chant, all the dharma talks, the rituals, it just all made sense to me, I couldn’t soak it up enough. And so I graduated from the Foundations program in May 2019, had my Jukai ceremony at the Sweetwater Zen Center August 11, 2019 where I received my dharma name from Shinzan… Jisen, which means Spring of Compassion.

How does Buddhism nourish me? Buddhism makes me feel connected to something bigger. From those handprints archaeologists have found in caves from 40,000 years ago, to the time of the Buddha, until now… we are all part of something continuous. We as humans are all connected so we don’t really ever die, the human race continues on. This practice also teaches me how to be a human in this world. Something I chant every morning…

We are of the nature to grow old, there is no way to escape growing old.

We are of the nature to have ill health, there is no way to escape ill health.

We are of the nature to die, there is no way to escape death.

All that is dear to us and everyone we love are of the nature to change. There is no way to escape being separated from them.

Our actions are our only true belongings, we cannot escape the consequences of our actions. Our actions are the ground upon which we stand.

And that’s the end of my story and also the beginning. I found this wonderful community of people that I can practice, learn, and grow with. And here I am today. I am still learning about sangha, how to connect with others, how to be part of a group which isn’t always easy for me, I still have my lone wolf tendencies. I also feel that I have such an intrinsic knowledge of compassion, but there is still so much wisdom in the dharma I want to learn. I remember seeing Frank Ostaseski speak at a Death and Dying symposium put on by the NYZCC. Frank is a pioneer in end of life care and he cofounded the Zen Hospice Project in San Francisco, the first Buddhist hospice in America. He talked about how important it is to have both wisdom and compassion together. He said that we have two wings, one is the wing is compassion, the other is wisdom. If we have too much compassion, we are too emotional and if you have too much wisdom, you get stuck in your head. But when we bow in gasso, we bring both wisdom and compassion together. (BOW) Thank you.