Preconceptions miss
The road winds
An edge gleams
Family farms and falling leaves
Faded moon beyond golden mountain
Red maple siren across the endless stream
Rushing freely over static stone
Loosened
Tumbling
Polishing
Knowing ageless fearless practice
Bodhisattva

John Daido Loori Roshi 1931-2009

I knew Roshi’s illness had gained ground in recent days, still I was shaken last Friday morning when the dedication of The Heart Sutra was offered to the body of Muge Daido Daiosho.

It was quiet as the service ended. I put on my street clothes, hung my robes in the zendo closet, and walked back into the world. All day my mind was in turmoil. I didn’t know how to react. Should I react in a certain way? Am I supposed to react in a certain way? Is there a Zen way to react?

As the days unfurl I see what others write, I hear what others say, and I wonder where I fit in. Where can my words meet this moment? I see judgments arise that bounce off understandings to form interpretations that may never be fully understood, but here I am.

John Daido Loori, Roshi first entered my consciousness back in 2002 when I read a book called “Waking Up: A week inside a Zen Monastery” by Jack McGuire, and for several years I planned a trip to Zen Mountain Monastery, but I never got there. In 2007 I moved to Brooklyn and began to frequent The Zen Center of New York City, a branch of ZMM. Daido Roshi loomed large my first few months of more serious practice, though I had yet to meet him.

Thanksgiving ‘07 I finally made my way up to the Monastery for the “Introduction to Zen Training Weekend.” I was not prepared for the bigness of what Daido Roshi had created, and I felt I hadn’t given the folks I’d been working with back in Brooklyn their due.

I first met Daido Roshi in a group setting, and I was at once taken by his candor and his gently imposing presence. I don’t know what I expected, but his humor was disarming, his words powerful, yet he held it all effortlessly.

I asked him that weekend, “What does it mean to follow the breath?” He kind of looked me over for a second or two and answered, “Sometimes you’re with the breath; other times you’re not. When you find you’re not with the breath, come back to the breath.”

And that’s what I try to do.