Heart Free as White Clouds

Shikantaza has a specific form. The legs, either in a full- or half-lotus position (or as close as you can reasonably get), are like the roots of water lily, grounded in the earth, settled in the muck of this life.

The spine is relaxed and straight like the stem of the lotus, supported by the water and inclining upward toward the sun, leaning neither forward or backward, neither left nor right.

The head, the flower of the water lily, sits softly on the top of the spine, eyes gazing downward at a 45-degree angle. The mouth is gently closed and the tongue rests on the roof, just touching the upper front teeth.

The left hand rests in the right palm, thumb-tips lightly touching, forming an elliptic-shaped zero, expressing boundless openness.

In the assertive and increasingly subtle harmonizing of body, breath and heart, a Buddha of formless form rattles our cages and shatters our walls.

Such a shikantaza is neither silent illumination nor cracking the head of a koan to find a kensho. This is the zazen marked by no fixed mark, the nonabiding Dharma with no fixed flavor—sweet, salty or sour.