Why sitting still is the most radical act in a distracted world.
In an age of endless notifications and the relentless pursuit of productivity, the idea of “doing nothing” feels almost rebellious. Yet, for over a thousand years, Zen practitioners have embraced Zazen—seated meditation—not as a way to escape reality, but as a way to meet it head-on. To practice Zazen is to realize that the peace you are seeking is not something to be acquired, but something to be uncovered.
The Geometry of the Body
Unlike many Western forms of meditation that prioritize mental visualization, Zazen begins with the physical. It is a lesson in posture. Whether in the full lotus position or seated on a simple cushion (zafu), the spine becomes a bridge between heaven and earth.
The eyes are kept half-open, gazing at the floor a few feet ahead. This is a crucial distinction: Zazen is not about closing your eyes to the world. It is about staying present within it. By aligning the body, the mind naturally begins to settle. As the saying goes, “When the water is still, the moon is reflected clearly.”
Leaving the “Self” Behind
In the world of Zen, there is a concept called Shikantaza—which literally means “just sitting.” There is no mantra to chant, no deity to pray to, and no specific goal to reach.
For the modern mind, this is the hardest part. We are conditioned to want results. But Zazen challenges the “ego” that always wants to be somewhere else. Thoughts will arise—anxieties about work, memories of the past—but the practice is to treat them like clouds passing through a vast sky. You don’t try to stop the clouds; you simply stop clinging to them. In this emptiness, you find a profound sense of freedom.
In traditional Zen dojos, you might see a monk carrying a wooden stick called a keisaku. While it looks intimidating to outsiders, the “strike” is actually an act of compassion. It is used to wake up the practitioner from sleepiness or wandering thoughts, snapping them back into the present moment.
Zazen teaches us that clarity is a choice we make every second. It is a discipline of the spirit that sharpens the mind like a razor’s edge, allowing us to see the world as it truly is, stripped of our projections and prejudices.
Returning to the Source
When you stand up from your cushion, the Zazen does not end. The goal is to carry that stillness into the chaos of the streets, the office, and the home. By learning to sit still, we finally learn how to move with grace. In the silence of Zazen, we don’t find a new version of ourselves; we simply find the self that was there all along, waiting beneath the noise.