The first and essentially only instruction I received at Zen Mountain Monastery was: 1) focus awareness; 2) when that awareness wanders, as it will, recognize that fact and let go without judgment; 3) return awareness. Do it a billion zillion trillion times. If anyone asked me if I found the meaning of life on the mountain, I’d say it was this. Wake up a grain at a time.

All the other instructions were along the lines of where the spare blankets were, when to bow, and what time to be where.

Everything at a Zen monastery is designed to provide an opportunity to practice awakening. To twist a business phrase, the work-life balance is so twisted together that to even consider those two things as distinct is a misconception. Everything is practice, from sitting in zazen to washing dishes to hauling pumpkins in a wheelbarrow.

It was a cheerful place; less talking, more doing, less judging, more awareness. There was a real love of life, a love and a respect of each moment. What I encountered there will absolutely help my home practice, and for that I am grateful.

At the end of each evening service, a short poem is chanted: “Let me respectfully remind you, life and death are of supreme importance. Time passes by swiftly and opportunity is lost. Each of us should strive to awaken. Awaken! Take heed, do not squander your life.” Life’s a bitch enough as is without our constructing fantasies and living in them. We have less control than we think, and that’s okay. We should recognize and understand our fantasies, make contact with the absolute wonder of the reality of our lives, and love that with all that we are while we can. Each moment. Life might be a bitch, but it’s our bitch.

I came down from the mountain to learn that my father is dying.