A Weekend Retreat to Remember!
Our First Weekend Sesshin of the Year!
Paraphrasing Roshi Joan Halifax: “Brushing your teeth is doing zazen. Going to the dentist is attending a sesshin.” How true… In the midst of everyday life, we lay practitioners need resets—sesshins are those resets. Sure, we face the wall on Wednesday nights, seek guidance from our teacher, and connect with the sangha on Saturdays. But day in and day out, month after month, our Buddha nature requires recalibration. It requires wiping the dust from the illusion of the ever-present mirror.
Because we are not monks, nor do we yearn to be (as life decisions and life itself demand different responsibilities), we must remember the great power of sesshins and weekend retreats. While we have participated in many silent weekend retreats, each carries its own distinct flavor. As Zen students, we come to understand that each moment calls for an appropriate response—we do our best. This silent weekend retreat was no different.
We anticipated Sensei Shinzan’s return from Mexico to welcome our guest, Sensei Matthew Kozan Palevsky of Upaya Zen Center. Yet, no one could have predicted that a powerful sandstorm would delay Shinzan’s arrival! In his absence, Dojin, our senior student, was entrusted with leading the retreat. As my high school students would say, “He understood the assignment.”
Zen teaches us to meet life’s circumstances as an aikido practitioner meets an opponent’s energy. If the moment calls for dejection, we feel it—but we don’t get bogged in it: we acknowledge it, process it, and respond accordingly. With the support of the sangha, Dojin did just that. And yes, it was a little bumpy—not because anything was wrong, but because our minds normally give us the illusion of expectation. Yet, once Dojin gave his instructions and I rang the bell at 7:20 PM, we were in the air. Years and years of practice were about to guide Dojin. And, our ancestors were present.
The next morning, after chanting and prostrations, we sat with the burning incense and the blue light of dawn. Saturday marked the first full day of sitting. When the schedule told us to sit, we sat. When it told us to eat, we gathered our bowls and ate. While I have a deep appreciation for Oriyoki, I know it isn’t for everyone. Some struggle with it, especially perfectionists or those with Obsessive Compulsive Disorder (OCD). Truthfully, Oriyoki is a practice in mindfulness. It reminds us to pay attention. Mistakes happen, and those mistakes remind us that we’ve momentarily stepped out of meditation.
As I write this, I wonder what ran through Sensei Kozan’s mind when we forgot steps, dropped bowls, or spilled tea. Of course, he would never entertain judgment, yet there we were—without a sensei, practicing the practice. How marvelous! This is Zen!
Eventually, Sensei Shinzan arrived—after breakfast but before our regular Saturday program. Before the Dharma talk began, he asked Dojin to join him. When Dojin finished, Shinzan explained that it would have been a mistake for him to simply take over the talk when Dojin had so gracefully led us in his absence. A student sure can learn much from a good teacher, wouldn’t you say?
The weekend retreat continued. Though Sensei Kozan had to depart earlier than anticipated, the retreat carried on. I continued ringing the bells, calling buddhas to sit, while Dojin continued, along with Shinzan, to guide us. Everyone engaged wholeheartedly, working their “aikido.” This retreat was truly one for the books—a true Zen experience that underscored the evolving energy of our sangha. It was a weekend of insight, connection, and of course, quiet and subtle transformation. The seeds of practice, once sown, have begun to hatch and flourish. Some have taken root in the rich soil of our collective dedication, while others, carefully nurtured, are growing into strong, steadfast trees. The sangha is blossoming, and its presence is undoubtable.
