The Zen Doctor

Last week, I read a chapter from "Zen Buddhism and Psychoanalysis" for my Buddhism in America class. In it, D.T. Suzuki, who was profoundly instrumental in bringing Zen Buddhism to the West, discussed the differences in Eastern and Western philosophy and religion. He compared two poems to illustrate his point: a haiku by Basho and a poem by Tennyson. Both poems involved the poet's reflections on a flower. In Basho's haiku, he merely describes the scene of the flower on the fence and leaves the reader to make of it what he will. Tennyson, on the other hand, picks the flower and examines it up close in his hand, thus destroying it to sate his intellectual (and perhaps spiritual) curiosity.

Suzuki goes on to talk about how Eastern perspectives influence the way the Chinese view work. This is when I found myself really intrigued. When Suzuki begins to discuss the peace and pleasure the people of China find in even the most menial labor, the skeptic in me said, “oh yeah, I’m so sure!” His description sounded overly romanticized to say the least. Upon further reflection, however, I began to see how this might be possible.

For example, I had a personal crisis several years ago and had to leave college and move back home. While living with my parents I worked as a bookkeeper for my father’s dermatology practice to keep me busy and pay the rent. My life had just fallen apart, I was under great emotional stress, I was living in a small town that I never liked, working long hours for mediocre pay. Plus, I hated math.

Then, with a lot of coaching from my dad, I learned to stop asking “why,” stop bemoaning my situation, and just accept it for what it was – to “live in the now,” as my dad would say. The steady routine of waking up at 5, cooking breakfast for the whole family, going to work, then exercising, cooking dinner, drinking a glass of wine, reading, and going to bed (only to wake up and do it all over again) actually began to agree with me. I found an inner peace and center of gravity, and nothing else mattered. Did I like my job? That question became inconsequential. My job just was, my life just was, and the peace it brought me made what would otherwise be mundane at best..... enjoyable. Now that I’ve returned to school again, I’ve gotten away from that routine and life is much more difficult. I appreciate this article because it has reminded me of this other way of being – the way I was being while my dad was slipping me small doses of Zen in disguise.