The traditional descriptions of meditation in the Buddhist tradition are many and varied.

But they all

share some aspects. In our tradition, our practice of shikantaza, or "just sitting," we withdraw our
senses and allow our minds to settle down. We sit with legs folded, on a round cushion (zafu) which
elevates the base of the spine slightly above the knees. We keep the spine tall, not leaning left or
right, forward or back. The head is high, not tipping over. The tip of the tongue touches the back of
the top teeth. Other alternatives for sitting are to kneel (seiza) with the aid of a short bench (seiza
bench) to elevate the hips, or to use a chair for those with physical limitations.
There are esoteric explanations for all of these elements, but they all have ordinary practical functions.
For example, the tongue position allows our swallow impulse to subside, so we can sit more
peacefully. The eyes are neither all the way open nor all the way closed, just half-open and cast down
about 45 degrees, with a relaxed gaze. The hands are
cupped, left inside the right, the thumbs touching lightly to
form a small circle, with the arms resting on the thighs.
Some people find it difficult at first, but after a while it
becomes natural. This posture is very stable, allowing you to
enter a relaxed physical state without tipping over. In our
style we sit facing the wall, which minimizes visual
distraction. In other styles people sit facing one another, or
in rows facing a teacher or altar.
The environment in which we meditate ought to be without too much stimulation - it should be quiet,
not too bright or too dark, not too hot and not too cold, without strong
odors or perfumes, and without the likelihood of disturbance from people or
animals. We should avoid moving - in order to scratch and itch or to relax a
muscle - because the sound of us moving may distract others, and also
because it stimulates our own sense of touch. If you let it, the urge to move
will subside and you can sit very deeply.
We make an effort to withdraw the five senses of perception so that we let
go of our habit of grasping at sight, sound, smell, taste and touch. We also
withdraw our mental grasping at thought. That is: we just sit. If, when you
are sitting, you notice that your mind is slack and you begin falling asleep,
don't yield to it, just sit strong and tall. If you notice you are agitated and
fantasizing, planning, remembering and so on, let it go ("open the hand of
thought") and just sit. That's it.
This may sound too simple to be profound. Many meditation traditions teach
other methods. These other methods are all different from "shikantaza"
(Japanese for "just sitting") in that they provide for an object of attention.
That is, they give you something to think about (focus on) or something to
do while meditating. A mantra (sacred phrase), a visualization, a sound, the
breath (or counting breaths trying not to lose focus), various good ideas
and so on for the object of attention during meditation practice. The mind
focuses on one of these and in making an effort, the person's attention
becomes more stable, clearer and more enduring. In shikantaza there is no
object of attention. This is especially disconcerting and it leads people to
ask what we are supposed to "do?" Just sit. But what does that mean?
Don't daydream, don't fall asleep. That's it. But what do you DO? Just sit.
In shikantaza the emphasis in the explanation of the method of practice is
placed on what you don't do. To come face to face with the way our minds
influence and distort our reality, we dispense altogether with objects. If you
tell someone what to do, what to focus on, what to aim at, you simply give
them a new object to hold onto. Many styles of meditation use objects of

Members of the
Northampton Zendo come
together on Monday
nights for group
meditation. The room
doubles as the
Northampton Karate Dojo,
and the important idea of
"karate and Zen as one"
is evident in the way
Buddhist calligraphy and
images shares wall space
with photos and images
related to karate.

attention in practice. But in our style we do without them. This is difficult. But it is a direct path to the
realization of the nature of reality.
This is a subject worthy of exploration, especially when we realize that almost everything else we do
or have ever done contributed to anxiety, unhappiness, anger or confusion. A future article will explore
the alternatives to the samsaric worldview more deeply. In that article we will look carefully at the
idea of samsara: a mistaken view of reality which traps us in the endless pursuit of things which we
believe will make us happy but which bring dissatisfaction and disappointment instead.