In terms of spiritual practice, seeing with the whole body and mind is to “reach the summit of the mystic peak.” This may seem like a profound achievement, but in Zen, this is not the endpoint.

Later, I would see how he had readied me, once again, to see what was right in front of me. He helped me to return to a state of “not knowing,” a willingness to trust what the next moment would bring.

To be still means to empty yourself from the incessant flow of thoughts and create a state of consciousness that is open and receptive. Stillness is very natural and uncomplicated. It’s not esoteric in any way. Yet it’s incredibly profound.

In the West, we learn mostly through explanations and specific instructions. In Zen and its arts, space is created for the process of discovery to take place. They are primarily taught through “body teaching.” The teacher becomes a tangible manifestation of the teachings.The students bring awareness to the moment and try to embody the example

“Whole body and mind seeing,” as Master Dogen refers to it, is the total merging of subject and object, of seer and seen, of self and other.

To study the Way is to study the self. To study the self is to forget the self. To forget the self is to be enlightened by the ten thousand things. EIHEI DOGEN

All creatures experience the universe through the senses. And at every moment, a different universe is being created by each being. A spider, for example, feels the universe through its legs, which touch the key strands of its web. It knows when it’s raining, or when food is available. It doesn’t think to itself, “That’s not a fly on the web.

When thoughts finally disappear, the thinker disappears. Thought and thinker are interdependent, mutually arising. No thought, no thinker is called the “falling away of body and mind.” This is absolute samadhi, single-pointedness of mind. In single-pointedness there is no observer. There’s no awareness of time, self, or other. However, we can’t

In chado, the way of tea; shodo, the way of the brush; kado, the way of the flower, and kyudo, the way of the bow, the suffix “do” means “way.” These arts were called ways because they were disciplines or paths of polishing the artist’s understanding of him or herself and the nature of reality.