There is a great temptation in our practice to simplify the story of the self by excluding the feelings of others.

When we look carefully, we notice that there are many different identities contained within our notion of self. Each of these identities, when we cling to it or dwell within it, drives our actions, or karma.

Until we know who is living our life, until we see what is operating unconsciously as we try to hold the idea of self together, we will remain bound by it.

Complaining is a kind of spiritual impotence. When we complain, we sit around saying that we are no longer in the driver’s seat, that we are no longer exerting the activity required to mend what, in our opinion, has gone wrong.

Past, future, and the direct intimacy of this moment

Where do we enter the practice of Zen?

We often imagine that practice begins when our circumstances improve, when our minds become quiet, or when we finally understand what we are supposed to be doing. Yet Zen always begins in the life that is already here. Grief, uncertainty, pleasure, pain, memory, hope, and doubt are not obstacles standing between us and the Way. Each one is an entrance.

This talk considers Case 81 of the Shōyōroku, “Gensha Comes to the Province,” and the invitation to meet our whole life within the immediacy of the present moment.

…when you find yourself feeling like you’re running out of steam, simply go out and give whatever little love you think you have left away. Avoid the temptation to fall into the loop that says, "There’s nothing left. There’s nothing I can do. There’s no one I can help.”

We all recite the Bodhisattva Vow together. We don't take this vow simply to step into the happiness that's already present in life or to hope for smooth sailing. We take a vow to step into suffering wherever we encounter it.

We must be incredibly careful in our practice not to cling to the mere idea of getting things done.

Are you living in reality, or just a "faint copy" of it? 18th-century philosopher David Hume warned that our discursive minds are often just shadowboxing—flailing like a dog running in its sleep.

In this synthesis, Sensei Michael Brunner‍ of Ottawa Illinois bridges Western radical empiricism with the 13th-century wisdom of the Mumonkan at One River Zen. Discover how to drop the "conceptual shorthand" and wake up to the vivid, forceful field of the Ordinary Mind.

When you find yourself drifting off trying to place yourself somewhere more beautiful or serene than where you are–engage your hands and address the suffering that’s right in front of you.