Roots

Painting: “Roots” Triptych by Roshi Robert Althouse (www.althouseart.com)

From “Diary of a Hungry Ghost” by Robert Joshin Althouse

From the still silence of a single, small seed, come plants, trees, humans, and animals. From a plant seed first comes a tap root, reaching down into the cool dark earth. Here the root gathers water and nutrients to sustain the plants growth upwards towards the sun. The leaves of the plant in return help strengthen the roots to grow further. Did you know that the roots of a cereal rye plant grow 3 miles of roots a day in good soil? In a single season it grows 387 miles of roots and 6,603 miles of root hairs. For a stationary creature, it sure gets around!

We may not notice roots because the flowers are more showy and obvious. But the roots and the living soil that sustains them, are what supports the rest of the plant. Roots go about their work quietly and patiently, while the flowers receive all the compliments from us beings above ground. Roots are part of the structure of a living soil that is full of microbes and bacteria that our eyes do not see. We are like an iceberg in water. The self we know is only the tip of the iceberg. The larger self, goes unseen, under the water.

Zazen meditation is much like this. We root ourselves in zazen to one spot, without moving. No matter what comes up in our experience, we sit with it, breathing through whatever resistance and obstacles may arise in our mind/body. On the surface, it doesn’t seem like we accomplish anything by sitting so still but we are growing roots downward that sustain the rest of our life. Without roots we have no stems and branches to show us the way.

When we sit in the stillness of zazen, the push and pull of aversion and attraction arise and disappear continually. It is disconcerting at first to realize how busy our mind is and how active our thoughts and fantasies are. When we don’t run away from what we fear, then slowly it dawns on us, that there is no longer anything to defend and no one, including ourselves to blame. In zazen we are neither self-centered or other-centered. We are simply centered.

In Zen we have a sitting practice called shikantaza. This means “just sitting”. When we sit shikantaza we sit with everyone, with all suffering beings. We root ourselves as a mountain bearing witness to whatever has been rejected or avoided. Out of the depths of the soil of shikantaza, this mystery of life, the stillness, the silence, the epiphany of a cardinal’s song arises to confirm us. This is freedom. It is not some special excitement. It is a quiet thing, ordinary and humble experience.

This experience is the treasure of our life. We can take refuge in this treasure by making zazen a regular part of our daily life. Root yourself to one spot. Roots grow downward to sustain our lives. If we don’t tend to these roots and the living soil of which they are a part, our families will suffer, our communities will suffer, our ancestors will suffer, our spiritual lineages will suffer. Please take care of your life. When you tend the soil of your life, you will grow beautiful flowers. Then the flowers will go to seed and cast their gifts upon the wind to find another spot to root themselves again.

Our life is a brief dream, a mystery beyond our comprehension. If we surrender to the moment we are living, then we reorient our lives to serve life itself. And in answer to our mute silence, out of the morning star, comes the cardinals song and we are confirmed again and again.