In this episode I make the case for accommodations for people with physical challenges, even in sesshin, and then describe a number of tried and tested ways Sanghas can do this. I finish by talking about how to negotiate with a Sangha if you are someone with physical challenges and hope to be accommodated, particularly in the practice of intensive retreat.

People with extra physical challenges - disabilities, chronic illnesses, or advanced age - often find it impossible to participate fully in Zen practice without special accommodations. Seated meditation (zazen) can be painful, and the demands of silent meditation retreats (sesshin) can be prohibitive. However, an important part of Zen practice - especially sesshin - is how everyone follows the forms together, doing the same things at the same times. The whole idea is to minimize the need to exercise personal choice, and to use a certain amount of physical discomfort to bring us up against the existential matter of our lives. How can Sanghas support the Zen practice of people with physical challenges while preserving what is supportive to those without them?

In this extemporaneous Q&A episode, I address these questions: What is the responsibility of Buddhists to stand for what is right? What is the difference between the Buddhist goal of "detaching from clinging and aversion" and the pathological states of detachment from reality called "dissociation?" How would you describe the desirable level of overlap between shikantaza (the zazen of just sitting) and trance?

This episode is a Teisho, an encouragement talk that’s meant to be listened to while you are sitting quietly. Zen teachers give Teisho during sesshin, and this amounts to a more formal kind of Dharma talk, almost like a meditation. It’s not meant to be educational. I’m curious as to how it will come off if you listen to it while walking or driving or doing something else. Maybe it’ll be cool. But I recommend sitting still if you’re able. Teisho are generally only given during sesshin and not recorded, but I recreated one from the sesshin I led last week for you.

The teaching of the Trikaya, or Three Bodies of Buddha, is challenging. It may seem to be metaphysical speculation or surprisingly theistic for Buddhism. However, it offers a unique and valuable framing for the mystery of awakening, the palpable presence of the Ineffable despite its ungraspable nature, and the relationship of all phenomena to the Ineffable.

In this extemporaneous question-and-answer episode I address a listener's comment on my answer in a recent Q&A episode about the relationship between Buddhism and eating a plant-based diet. Then I respond to two different questions about the practice of shikantaza, or just sitting.

Chances are, whether you're aware of it or not, you have a certain way of framing your Dharma practice. That is, you function using a conceptual framework that defines your relationship to your practice, the intent of that practice, and what is supposedly being transformed by that practice. When you're centered in the moment, you can practice without framing, but most of the time you'll be framing things whether you mean to or not. It's good to be conscious of your framing and choose a framing that's helpful.

Almost everyone who practices meditation or mindfulness encounters the phenomenon of the wandering mind – when, despite your conscious intention, your mind is filled with thoughts that have nothing to do with your current experience. You can employ various techniques to let go of the thoughts and “bring the mind back” to your meditative object or to the present moment, but often these techniques are applied as if all mind wandering was of the same nature. I investigate different reasons your mind wanders and how they call for different responses.

This is an extemporaneous question-and-answer episode. Do you know the difference between a parami and a paramita? Do I still like to think of mindfulness as "undivided presence?" What about when Buddhists use the idea of karma as an excuse not to take compassionate action? Why can't our practice include more activities aimed at the cultivation of joy, creativity, and other positive experiences?

Equanimity is a powerful state of being that not only reduces our stress and suffering but also enables us to respond effectively. However, in our efforts to achieve some measure of equanimity, we may end up stuck in the tentative calm of denial or in the coldness of indifference. True equanimity is clear-eyed, undefended, compassionate, and inclusive – but how do we cultivate it? I explore the virtue of equanimity from a Buddhist perspective.