Josh

Josh, a 39-year-old Zen practitioner residing in Las Vegas, shares his transformative journey from a Roman Catholic upbringing to finding solace in Zen Buddhism. Growing up in Bend, Oregon, Josh struggled with the concept of a higher power, leading to difficulties in reconciling his beliefs. Battling a drinking problem, he entered a twelve-step program at 21, marking the beginning of his awakening.

Encouraged by his father, Josh ventured into real estate in Las Vegas, facing mental health challenges during the recession. Struggling with anxiety and panic attacks, he turned to meditation, recalling childhood daydreams about it. A chance encounter with a friend led him to a Zen center in Las Vegas.

Initially skeptical, Josh attended a formal Zen practice and met Lisa, the vice abbot. Despite early challenges, he continued sporadically, grappling with anxiety. Seeking relief, he reached out to a friend from a Zen temple in Eugene, who suggested finding a Zen center in Las Vegas. Josh’s first encounter with Zen was formal and challenging, but it intrigued him.

Dealing with escalating mental health issues, Josh hesitated to commit to an intensive retreat. However, he overcame his fears and attended a three-day retreat, gradually increasing his daily meditation practice. His commitment and perseverance led to a breakthrough during a 90-day silent retreat, experiencing a profound clarity of mind.

Realizing the limitations of Zen in addressing his panic disorder, Josh sought professional help, emphasizing the importance of acknowledging and addressing mental health issues. He underscores that while Zen is foundational in his life, it’s not a cure-all, but rather a practice that creates awareness and guides him to seek additional support without shame. Josh’s journey reflects the intertwining paths of Zen practice and mental health, emphasizing the importance of acceptance, commitment, and seeking help when needed.

In the reflections shared by Josh, he critiques the traditional approach of Zen schools, emphasizing that the essence of Zen is not confined to specific rituals or containers. He challenges the hierarchical structure, suggesting a need for a shift in how transmission is granted to teachers, advocating for a more flexible and adaptable system.

Josh underscores the necessity for Zen to evolve in the context of modern society, asserting that the current methods may not resonate with the younger generation. He stresses the importance of meeting people where they are, making Zen more accessible and relevant to contemporary lifestyles.

In the reflections shared by Josh, he critiques the traditional approach of Zen schools, emphasizing that the essence of Zen is not confined to specific rituals or containers. He challenges the hierarchical structure, suggesting a need for a shift in how transmission is granted to teachers, advocating for a more flexible and adaptable system.

Josh delves into the importance of teachers in the context of Buddhism and Zen practice, emphasizing the pragmatic nature of Buddha’s teachings. He acknowledges the diversity of meditation apps but underlines the necessity of a teacher, sharing personal insights on the value of having two influential teachers in his own practice.

In discussing teachings, Josh emphasizes the potential attachment to even true statements and the importance of not being fixed to any specific teaching. He highlights the power of clear mind and its superiority to teachings, though acknowledges the impermanence of clear mind, necessitating practice and teachings. Josh reveals his preference for the Heart Sutra, chanting it daily in English, and delves into its core message of no attainment. He narrates his journey with two key books, particularly praising “Zen Buddhism as a Sad Song,” attributing it as the best book on Zen due to its comprehensive coverage. Josh shares a metaphorical story about heaven and describes his personal experience with Zen, emphasizing the significance of consistent practice. Stressing the guidance of a teacher, he encourages having a Zen center for regular practice and suggests establishing a core practice before considering changes. Josh values the diverse elements in Zen practice, praising its discipline, chanting, sitting, and mantras, considering it an amalgam of the best practices. He elaborates on the transformative power of chanting, recounting how it became an undercurrent in his daily life, subtly influencing his subconscious.

Josh reflects on chanting, emphasizing its fundamental purpose—to chant. He discourages unnecessary intellectualization of the practice, asserting that the essence lies in the act itself. While acknowledging potential scientific explanations for the calming effects of chanting, Josh underscores the Zen perspective that urges practitioners to focus on the action without getting entangled in the analytical “why” or “how.” He highlights the danger of becoming attached to intellect, stating that the essence of Zen practice is to break free from such attachments. Josh shares that he has memorized specific chants, including the Three Jewels, Heart Sutra in Korean and English, and the Great Dharani, primarily for the practicality of avoiding the need for a book during retreats. He expresses a preference for the Great Dharani, enjoying its practice. Josh shares a story told by a monk from his school, recounting an incident during a retreat led by Zen Master Seung Sahn. An intellectually inclined participant sought answers in books, and suddenly, he felt a powerful presence behind him. Zen Master Seung Sahn told him, “You’re homesick.” When the participant denied being homesick, the response clarified that he missed his original home, emphasizing the fundamental motivation behind Zen practice—to return to one’s original home, the essence of which lies in sitting and practicing.