Nonthinking: Norman Fischer

By Norman Fischer

In zazen we’re not trying to think something in particular or to orient the mind in a particular direction. Nor is it necessary for us to somehow shut off thinking, which, though difficult, is actually not impossible when the mind is concentrating. Instead, he says think not-thinking, which is called nonthinking—a sort of thinking. It is very, very similar to the way we usually think, but there’s a little, tiny difference. And that little, tiny difference makes a categorical difference, even though we could miss it. The difference is so small that it is hard to see, but once you see it, it makes all the difference.

In usual thinking, and most of the time we are not at all conscious of this, what drives the thinking is some hook, some catch to thinking. That hook and that catch is “I” or “me.” “I’m thinking.” The thinking has to do with me. This fact inspires and conditions the thinking at all points, and that’s all we know in our life. So Descartes, who never dreamed of anything like zazen, was right when he said, “I think therefore I am.” That’s exactly right: “I think therefore I am.” And he could have added, “And therefore I suffer, and I screw up right and left, and I ultimately make everybody miserable.

So that’s what characterizes ordinary thinking—that hook, that catch of “I”, which is the most natural thing in the world. When we think of not-thinking or non-thinking, the “I,” that little catch, is naturally set aside, because instead of putting our energy into it, which we normally and automatically do, we are putting our energy into our breathing posture. We’re trusting that and developing that, and we’re doing a little kind of brain surgery. We’re gently removing “me” and “I”, and we’re replacing it with breathing and posture. Therefore the thinking has a completely different force and energy. It might not even be the same thoughts! The content could be almost the same, at least at first. But the sense of what the thinking is and its meaning and the energy behind it are utterly and completely different. Thoughts can arise and pass away without that hook or that catch. Each thought is free—it doesn’t have to be in service or me or I. It doesn’t have to be my thought. It just comes and goes.

At first non-thinking might not feel so different from thinking, but it is totally different, because fundamentally there is no suffering in it. Even if the thoughts that come and go are very negative—nasty, smelly, awful thoughts—if you just let them come and go without that hook, without that catch, there’s really no suffering in the thoughts. Eventually, if you continue to practice non-thinking, there will be serenity and peace, and the kinds of thoughts that arise will be different. Thoughts will just float up into the mind and float away, with no more trouble or anguish than a cloud floating by in the sky. Practicing in that way, the backward step occurs.

Note: Norman Fischer is the founder and Spiritual Director of the Everyday Zen Foundation and is a Soto Zen teacher in the lineage of Suzuki Roshi. The above passage is from a talk that he gave on Fukanzazengi, which can be found on the Everyday Zen website here.

Gratitude by Norman Fischer

All my life I have been contemplating a question of Heidegger’s that has always struck me as strangely profound: Why is there something, why not rather nothing?

Have you ever thought about that? We take our life, we take life, we take existence, for granted. We take it as a given, and then we complain that it isn't working out as we wanted it to. But why should we be here in the first place? Why should we exist at all? Why should anything exist at all? Really there's no reason for it. Why not nothing rather than something? Nothing would be simpler.

… It would appear that none [of the creation of the universe] of that had to happen. Certainly you and I had nothing to do with it, and our recent appearance in this universe, although connected absolutely to all of it, the necessary causal fruition of it all, is literally gratuitous.

It seems to me that gratitude then isn't so much an emotion or a feeling as an actual fact, maybe even the primary fact, of our being at all. If we are, in other words, we belong, radically belong, are possessed by, embraced by, all that is, and gratitude is literally what we are when we are most attuned to what we are, when we plunge deeply into our nature, and stop complaining.

…When we do [sitting meditation], zazen, as Dogen tells us, we are not examining ourselves or trying to make personal improvements. We are sitting within Buddha's heart, releasing ourselves to that aspect of ourselves that deeply belongs to the universe and is grateful for it.