Shining Through the Cold
Join us in person at One River Zen for morning meditation, Monday through Friday at 6:30 AM, and Saturday at 9:00 AM. Experience these talks and the warmth of community as we practice together. Everyone is welcome!
There’s a famous Zen dialog where a disciple asks the master what to do when faced with extremes of temperature—when it becomes unbearably cold or oppressively hot. The master replies, “Go to the place where there is no heat or cold.”
The disciple, confused, says, “I don’t know how to go to that place.”
The master responds, “When it’s cold, the cold kills you. When it’s hot, the heat kills you.”
At first, this may seem like an unfeeling sentiment, especially on a day like today, with temperatures plunging to -9°F here in the valley! But the master is not speaking of resignation or indifference. Instead, he points us to a profound truth about our lived experience: it is not the cold or heat itself that troubles us, but our resistance to it. The ideas and judgments we impose on our experience create separation, leaving us caught up in shadows of our own making.
When we allow these judgments to pass, when we face the cold without clinging to thoughts of what it “should” or “should not” be, something transformative occurs. Stripped of our habitual labels and narratives, we encounter the essence of the moment as it is. And in doing so, the cold—or the heat—“kills” the small self, that fragile construct of preferences and aversions. What remains is our true nature, shining through.
This is where compassion arises naturally. Once the cold has stripped away the small self, we are no longer preoccupied with our own discomfort. Instead, we see clearly the needs of others and feel deeply moved to act. Facing the cold with open awareness, you’ll bundle up, of course, but you’ll also be compelled to ensure that others are protected, to check in on your friends and loved ones, and to embody the warmth and care that the world so desperately needs.
So this morning, let your true nature shine through. Allow the cold to do its work. Let it teach you the simplicity and immediacy of this moment. And from that place, be the compassion that shelters and warms others.
Take good care, everyone. Bundle up a little more than usual, check on those around you, and know that we look forward to practicing with you first thing tomorrow morning at 6:30.
