The purpose of sesshin
It's not hard to look up the definition of the word sesshin and the meaning of the kanji (接心). 接 means to touch or bring together and 心 is the heart/mind. What we’re bringing together is not just our individual hearts and minds in an attempt to focus and let go of our own distraction. It’s just as important that sesshin brings the community together into a unified whole that moves and acts together in a synchronized way, allowing us to set aside our small-self point of view and deeply realize that we are part of something much larger than ourselves.
Immersion in the sesshin container
Practitioners sometimes get the wrong idea of what sesshin at Sanshin is about when they see that the day is made up solely of eating, sleeping and sitting. Here are some things it's not:
Sesshin is first and foremost an experience of completely selfless and seamless immersion in community. It’s a deeply intimate activity and not a room full of individuals doing their own thing, even though we're each minding our own practice and no one can practice for anyone else. Coming to sesshin is not like going to the theatre, where you pay your ticket, take your seat, and enjoy something going on around you or put on by others for your benefit. Whether or not you're in your seat, it doesn't matter; the play goes on. Sesshin, on the other hand, is the product of the practitioners who engage in it. It can't be made up of anything else. If you're not fully participating, or you're caught up in misunderstandings about what you're doing there and how things function, the sesshin falls apart for both you and others. Each and every participant has a hand in the effective functioning of the sesshin, whether an experienced teacher or a rank beginner. Everyone matters, and everything they do affects others, so it's incumbent on all participants to make sure they understand the nature of sesshin and know how to carry it out. Since I’m a newbie I'll just hang back and hope no one notices me is not an option. That's an individual point of view, and that's not the way sesshin works. Everyone needs to show up 100% and engage wholeheartedly.
Thus it’s not enough simply to know how to sit zazen. We must also know how to practice closely and intimately with others for an extended period of time. We have to be familiar enough with basic zendo functioning and everyday forms that we can communicate with and respond to each other without words. Figuratively, sesshin participants are in a circle holding hands and both generating and containing the energy of practice-realization. If someone lets go and wanders away, the integrity of the circle is broken, the energy dissipates, and everyone wobbles a bit.
We break the container every time we’re out of step with the rest of the group: forgetting to bow to our sitting place, being lackadaisical when the rest of the participants are moving precisely, strolling out of the zendo during kinhin for some personal time, not paying attention and folding into what’s happening. It might seem unimportant that our deportment is sloppy or we don’t remember all the forms and execute them fully if we think that sesshin is only about creating the opportunity to engage in challenging individual practice. As we can see, however, that’s not at all the point. We come to sesshin to practice selflessness, not by devaluing or denying our personal existence but by rejoining it to the personal existences of all the others in the zendo and functioning as one being. We sit zazen as one being, eat meals as one being, take care of our cushions as one being, and carry out our work assignments as one being. Our deep experience of selflessness comes not only from sitting zazen with this body and mind but dropping off body and mind and actually living moment by moment in a way that's completely interconnected with others. That’s what we’re really here to experience.
Immersion in the sesshin container
Practitioners sometimes get the wrong idea of what sesshin at Sanshin is about when they see that the day is made up solely of eating, sleeping and sitting. Here are some things it's not:
- a way to get better at zazen
- an individual pursuit toward a peak experience
- an opportunity to learn forms and functioning
- an escape from the stress of daily life
- an endurance test to show your commitment to practice
- an event hosted by some people for some other people
Sesshin is first and foremost an experience of completely selfless and seamless immersion in community. It’s a deeply intimate activity and not a room full of individuals doing their own thing, even though we're each minding our own practice and no one can practice for anyone else. Coming to sesshin is not like going to the theatre, where you pay your ticket, take your seat, and enjoy something going on around you or put on by others for your benefit. Whether or not you're in your seat, it doesn't matter; the play goes on. Sesshin, on the other hand, is the product of the practitioners who engage in it. It can't be made up of anything else. If you're not fully participating, or you're caught up in misunderstandings about what you're doing there and how things function, the sesshin falls apart for both you and others. Each and every participant has a hand in the effective functioning of the sesshin, whether an experienced teacher or a rank beginner. Everyone matters, and everything they do affects others, so it's incumbent on all participants to make sure they understand the nature of sesshin and know how to carry it out. Since I’m a newbie I'll just hang back and hope no one notices me is not an option. That's an individual point of view, and that's not the way sesshin works. Everyone needs to show up 100% and engage wholeheartedly.
Thus it’s not enough simply to know how to sit zazen. We must also know how to practice closely and intimately with others for an extended period of time. We have to be familiar enough with basic zendo functioning and everyday forms that we can communicate with and respond to each other without words. Figuratively, sesshin participants are in a circle holding hands and both generating and containing the energy of practice-realization. If someone lets go and wanders away, the integrity of the circle is broken, the energy dissipates, and everyone wobbles a bit.
We break the container every time we’re out of step with the rest of the group: forgetting to bow to our sitting place, being lackadaisical when the rest of the participants are moving precisely, strolling out of the zendo during kinhin for some personal time, not paying attention and folding into what’s happening. It might seem unimportant that our deportment is sloppy or we don’t remember all the forms and execute them fully if we think that sesshin is only about creating the opportunity to engage in challenging individual practice. As we can see, however, that’s not at all the point. We come to sesshin to practice selflessness, not by devaluing or denying our personal existence but by rejoining it to the personal existences of all the others in the zendo and functioning as one being. We sit zazen as one being, eat meals as one being, take care of our cushions as one being, and carry out our work assignments as one being. Our deep experience of selflessness comes not only from sitting zazen with this body and mind but dropping off body and mind and actually living moment by moment in a way that's completely interconnected with others. That’s what we’re really here to experience.
