Saturday, March 17, 2012

The Mudra

Anyone who stops by this blog knows that I'm fascinated with the mudra of zazen. I'm enthralled not only with what Dogen calls "The Buddha Mudra", but also the actual mudra of the hands. I think there is something physiologically profound about sustaining the and posture that makes zazen a real cultural innovation.

I recently ran across this fascinating discourse on the Cosmic Mudra by a priest at the Austin Zen Center:

I highly suggest some of the other articles on the Raw Zen blog. He has handouts and courses on "Nueral Zen" that explore the science behind Dogen's instructions.

Here are a few more pieces to chew on:

and of course Muho:


Thursday, February 9, 2012

Zazen is Buddha

What follows is an interview conducted by Living and Dying in Zazen author, Arthur Braverman with Joko Shibata the only student of Sodo Yokoyama aka "The Leaf Whistling Monk".



An interview with Jôkô Shibata by Arthur Braverman

Joko ShibataJôkô Shibata lives alone in a suburb of Komoro, a town in northern Japan, known as the Japan Alps. He moved to Komoro over twenty-five years ago in order to be with his teacher, the late Yokoyama Sodô Roshi, otherwise known as ‘the grass flute Zen master’. Jôkô is of average height and build, wears horn rimmed glasses and samue (work clothes worn by Zen Buddhist monks). He welcomes me into his home with a reserve that drops away quickly as we get to know each other.

I had first seen Jôkô (we hadn’t really met) in 1971 when he accompanied his teacher to Antaiji, a small temple in Kyoto, where we both attended the yearly memorial service for Sawaki Kôdô Roshi. Jôkô leads me through a corridor lined with pictures of his teacher to a small chanoma (tea room) where we have tea. On one side of the chanoma is a kitchen, on the other a balcony with a view of Mount Yatsu­gatake. Across from where we sit is a newly built Zen meditation room, or zendo, with the distinct smell of fresh wood and new tatami straw mats. At the far end of the zendo is a small altar with pictures of Jôkô’s teacher, Yokoyama Sodô Roshi, and his teacher, Sawaki Kôdô, both sitting in the zazen [formal sitting] posture. Jôkô’s life attests to his devotion to these two teachers.

Antaiji, a small temple in the northeast corner of Kyoto, was under the charge of Uchiyama Kôshô Roshi, a long time disciple and dharma heir of Sawaki Roshi, when Jôkô joined the practice there. He had read Uchiyama’s first book and decided to become a monk and study under the master. Yokoyama Roshi had lived together with his younger brother disciple Uchiyama Roshi at Antaiji for eight years and then in 1957 moved to Komoro. He visited Antaiji once a year from then on for the memorial celebration for Sawaki Roshi. It was during one of these visits that Jôkô met his future teacher for the first time. ‘I saw my teacher in zazen posture,’ he said, ‘and made up my mind immediately to study under him.’

Yokoyama Roshi, who was living a rather eccentric life even for a zen monk, was not looking to train disciples. While living at a nearby boarding house, he spent his days sitting in a bamboo grove at Kaikoen Park in Komoro, playing tunes on a leaf, brushing poems he’d composed in a delicate calligraphic style, and practising zazen. He entertained travellers, helping them feel younger through their contact with him. He considered that his life in the park and his relationship with the passers-by to be his religious practice. The travellers bought his brushed poems through which he made a modest living.

When Jôkô approached Yokoyama Roshi to be accepted as a disciple, the master refused and asked him to stay at Antaiji. The roshi said that his lifestyle could not accommodate a disciple, since he had no temple and very little income. Jôkô, not easily dissuaded, left Antaiji, went to Komoro, and pleaded to be accepted until the master acquiesced. After a two-year period of training at Eiheiji, the head training monastery for the Sôtô Zen sect, at Yokoyama Roshi’s request, Jôkô returned to Komoro and moved in with his teacher.

Jôkô Shibata cooking with Yokoyama Sodô RoshiHe prepared the roshi’s meals and attended to his needs until the master’s death. To support himself he got a job in a miso factory. When he wasn’t working, he was receiving instructions on the life and practice of Zen.

During our conversations, Jôkô quotes Sawaki Roshi as much as he does Yokoyama Roshi. This is not surprising because while the two masters had contrasting lifestyles, Yokoyama Roshi’s writings on zazen are composed extensively of his teacher’s words.

Sawaki Kôdô Roshi was called ‘Homeless Kôdô’ and this is because he didn’t have a temple of his own. He lectured and taught zazen at temples throughout Japan, while remaining sceptical of institutional religion. When he was asked to be abbot of Antaiji, rather than live there, he put his disciple Uchiyama Kôshô in charge and visited the temple regularly to teach and hold meditation retreats. A dynamic teacher who spoke directly and, in true Zen fashion, without regard for social con­ven­tion, his talks were enlightening and humorous and they captivated people, while his personality charmed. Like so many renegades in Zen, he developed quite a large following.

Yokoyama Roshi, on the other hand, was a loner who taught through his lifestyle. He lived in metaphors through poetry and song. His lifestyle was elegant. He went to Kaikoen every morning and set up his temple under a self-constructed awning between three trees with tea pot, portable stove (hibachi), leaves in a bowl of water, tea cups, brushes, ink block, etc.

People who met him were inspired as a result of meeting one whose life was so simple and who seemed to love what he was doing. Like the monk Ryôkan, by whom he was clearly influenced, he delighted in playing with little children, and they with him. Like his teacher, he spoke of zazen as the focus of his life, and his conduct testified to this.

Sawaki RoshiGiven Sawaki Roshi’s dynamism and charisma, and Yokoyama Roshi’s elegance and artistic sensibility, Jôkô had quite a legacy to live up to. He is not charismatic, he doesn’t compose or brush poetry, and he can’t play the leaf (at least he hasn’t demonstrated that he can). His faith in zazen, however, is as strong as that of his two predecessors, and he has the advantage of their teaching. Though he displays little of the uniqueness of these two creative teachers, his life is truly a celebration of zazen.

When I called on Jôkô, it had been seventeen or eighteen years since the death of his teacher. I knew that he wouldn’t have the foggiest idea who I was and would wonder how I got his unlisted telephone number, and that breaking the ice with him would be an uncomfortable formal affair. What I didn’t anticipate was that when we got past the formalities it would be a most delightful encounter and the highlight of my visit to Japan.

Jôkô had just terminated his job at the miso factory and completed the construction of the new zendo. It was a perfect time to visit him, as I found on my arrival. The following are excerpts from the conversation I had with him.

Arthur: Yokoyama Roshi was seventy-five when he died?

Jôkô: Seventy-four.

A: When I saw him at Kaikoen Park he seemed quite strong. Uchiyama Roshi always appeared weak, while Yokoyama Roshi appeared so healthy.

Jôkô: Yes, but he used to go to the park during the coldest part of the winter. Little by little he exhausted all his energy. He lived with the bare minimum — he lived in poverty and he perfected this impoverished life.

A: You worked in a bakery when you lived with Roshi?

Jôkô: A miso shop.

A: Until recently?

Jôkô: Yes.

A: How do you plan to make a living from now on?

Jôkô: Well, I’ll live on a minimal budget and I’ll manage somehow (laughs).

A: You have a vegetable garden?

Jôkô: Yes, a small one. I rent a small plot. Having lived at Antaiji I got used to living in poverty (laughs).

A: How long were you at Antaiji?

Jôkô: I was at Antaiji for about three years. Then I went to Eiheiji and then I lived with my teacher.

A: You were at Eiheiji for four years?

Jôkô: Three years.

A: A friend of mine who went to Eiheiji said that the only real practice there is during the first three months.

Jôkô: That’s true (laughs). My teacher said that I should go to Eiheiji, not for practice but to see what it’s like there. You hear Eiheiji, Eiheiji, all the time and you think it must be an extraordinary place, but you go there and see it for yourself and you realize that it is nothing special — ‘This is all it is?’ Then you can relax and get down to practising. That’s the reality, isn’t it?

A: Didn’t Yokoyama Roshi go to Eiheiji?

Jôkô: No, he practised at Sôjiji. Sawaki Roshi was the Godô (Director of Training) at Sôjiji then.

A: You went to Eiheiji because your teacher asked you to go there for three years?

Jôkô: Yes. He didn’t say three years. He just said go, so I went.

A: And you didn’t feel like leaving after six months?

Jôkô: (Laughing) I wanted to leave, but what could I do? I stayed for three years, a full two years and some. No, it was a full three years.

A: And when you returned to Komoro, you got a job so you could have money to live?

Jôkô: Yes.

A: To live near your teacher?

Jôkô: Yes. I thought about how I would manage living with my teacher in a boarding house. I couldn’t go begging (because we weren’t in a temple) so I had to get a job. When my teacher died, I thought about what to do next. Since I decided to stay here, I still had to make a living.

A: Did you live here at that time. [We were about thirty minutes from Kaikoen Park. The boarding house where he lived with Yokoyama Roshi was walking distance from the park.]

Jôkô: Not then.

A: You were still near the park?

Jôkô: Yes.

A: While you were working, were you thinking about building this meditation room?

Jôkô: Yes. My teacher thought about doing this. Antaiji no longer existed in Kyoto. I thought that if I created a place where people could practise zazen together, it would be a good thing.

A: How do you plan to let people know that you have this place?

Jôkô: I don’t know . . . I really have no idea. How did you make the connection? I had no idea that you would come here, yet . . . (laughs) I wondered how you got my telephone number since it’s not listed.

A: That’s why I’m wondering how other people are going to find out about this place.

Jôkô: Arthur may tell people he came here. I don’t know who or from where the connection will be made (laughs).

A: I’ll write something in English and people will come here.

Jôkô: Do you believe in zazen?

A: I don’t know to what degree I can say I believe in it.

Jôkô: Do you believe that it is the universe?

A: I’ve read that statement many times, but how much it has penetrated . . .

Jôkô: But you believe that it is so, don’t you? As Sawaki Roshi said, ‘taking you to a place where you can do nothing else (yuki tsuku tokoro o yuki tsuita . . .).’

A: I may believe it with my head, but . . .

Jôkô: It really does take you to a place where you can do nothing else.

A: Even if I say I understand, there will always be some question.

Jôkô: If you understand, that’s enough (laughs). You’ll do zazen. Have some candy. It’s from my teacher’s home town.

A: Really?

Jôkô: He was from Kome. It says, ‘A speciality of Kome.’

Buddha in meditation. Photo: © Hazel WaghornA: Did you believe ‘Zazen is Buddha’ [I am quoting a phrase used regularly by both Yokoyama Roshi and Sawaki Roshi: zazen wa hotoke de aru] from the beginning?

Jôkô: I believed it, but I didn’t understand it. Sawaki Roshi said it, Uchiyama Roshi said it, my teacher said it. They all said, ‘First do zazen, you have to do zazen.’ I came to realize that. When I met my teacher, that’s what he said in his teishôs (sermons).

There’s nothing other than zazen. I didn’t know that. But I did zazen and somehow, through the body, I came to know it in the end. The posture is one important thing; the most important thing after all.

It is said that if you do zazen, you know what zazen feels like. If you steal, you know what a robber feels. So if you do zazen completely, you really become in tune with the universe. If you don’t do it com­pletely, you won’t really understand the meaning of being in tune with the universe.

A: You talk about the importance of posture. In Pure Land Buddhism they don’t emphasize posture, yet you’ve said that Pure Land is the same spirit as Zen.

Jôkô: It is the same spirit. But it’s another application. Sawaki Roshi said that Namu Amida Buddha(Praise a Buddha) is an application of zazen. You recite the name like this (he demonstrates). Zazen is done with the whole body.

I would say that whichever one is easier for you to understand (zazen or nembutsu) is the one you should choose. After all Namu Amida Buddha expresses infinite life, doesn’t it? Infinite, limitless, unob­structed . . . ‘Namu’ means surrender, doesn’t it? So you surrender to it, right? Sawaki Roshi says zazen puts you in tune with the vibrations of the universe. It’s basically the same, isn’t it . . . after all?

So first you believe it emphatically, then you realize it. It is said that whoever does zazen will experience the same thing — this is true. The question is whether you can believe that this is it when you do zazen. In general, people don’t believe it. They usually seek something else, satori (enlightenment) or something. Under­standing that zazen is the end in itself is most important. Realizing that doing zazen is all that is necessary — that is the universe as it is . . . Everything, your thoughts and objects are all one with the universe. Because this body is the universe’s body, you’re not controlling your breathing. Isn’t that right? Think about when you are sleeping. Then your breath is naturally regulated, isn’t it?

A: Yes, I agree.

Jôkô: Humans think, distinguishing between this and that . . . Using our mind in this way, we create the existence of a ‘me’. But originally there was only the universe. The Heart Sutra says, ‘There is no birth and no death,’ doesn’t it? Really nothing is born and nothing dies.

The phrase ‘the life and death of the universe’ (uchû shôji) means you don’t live and die — the universe does. This is very difficult to understand. If you understand it, you will be at ease. That’s why you should do zazen. It’s quite difficult to understand.

A: My father-in-law, as a Pure Land Buddhist priest, says that if you practise zazen, you are expressing your lack of faith in the fact that you already have been saved. You want to get something out of it, or be somebody, so you practise.

Jôkô: That’s true. But zazen is not religious practice. You don’t try to become great or attain something.

You only see one side with words. Sawaki Roshi said doing zazen once is eternal zazen. That’s absolutely true. If you really understand the meaning of eternal zazen, you will do it again. That’s the truth.

A: You’ll do it because it’s eternal?

Jôkô: Yes. If you understand that it is eternal, you’ll do it again. ‘If I do it once and it is eternal, I don’t need to do it again,’ — that is false under­standing. Because you don’t under­stand it, you say that. If you really understand it, you want to do it again. When we eat delicious food, we want to eat more, don’t we? You do (true zazen) because you understand it. People who don’t understand it, do it once and then rationalize, ‘I did zazen once, therefore . . . ‘ So when some­one reasons that reciting ‘Praise to Amida Buddha’ (Namu Amida Buddha) once is enough because it is eternal recitation, he is not telling a lie. However, if that is true, he will recite it again and again (laughs).

A: Your teacher talked of how Sawaki Roshi realized that zazen was posture. When the roshi was in a monastery and all the other monks went to a festival, he stayed back and did zazen. A lady who came to clean walked by and saw him sitting in zazen and immediately bowed and recited prayers to him. He realized that she was praying to the form regardless of what deluded thoughts were going through his mind.

Sawaki RoshiJôkô: Yes. Sawaki Roshi felt that for human beings the most sacred position was that of zazen. When I saw my teacher in that position, I too felt how true that was. It’s from that experience that my faith in zazen was aroused. That’s where the faith-mind comes from.

That photo over there of Sawaki Roshi doing zazen . . . I look at it often . . . It’s quite powerful. Look at it carefully. See how powerful it is when you sit and stare at it.

My teacher always told me to pay attention to my posture. I would sit in front of a mirror and check myself and sure enough when I got lost in thought or sleepy I would see my body bending or my head tilting. When I put all my energy toward it, I would sit like this (he demonstrates a straight zazen posture). Your nose should be in line with your belly button, your ears in line with your shoulders and your head should be pushed up toward the sky. Then that (posture) will arise. And with that the feeling will arise.

A: You mean the blood will leave your head and you will feel settled?

Jôkô: Yes, yes. They say your blood settles . . . You become sane. The Buddha-way is the true way to sanity. You become natural. So correct posture is important.

There are people who can’t keep this posture and maybe they can’t do zazen. But that’s okay. Still, right posture is important when doing zazen.

A: When you sit in zazen, what do you focus on? Your posture? Your breath?

Jôkô: In the Sôtô sect you are not told to focus on your breath or posture. They do say short breaths are short and long breaths are long. In Sawaki Roshi’s book there is mention of breathing from your tanden (lower abdomen). In general you straighten your posture and breathe from your hara (abdomen).

A: Does that mean that it’s okay to let thoughts arise?

Jôkô: Thoughts naturally arise, but you shouldn’t follow them. When you are thinking, you will slump. When I sit across from a mirror, I can really see this. When I am wrapped in thought and I glance at a mirror, I see how my posture is. Sure enough, something is off.

Human beings are thinkers. We can’t rid ourselves of thinking, but we don’t have to chase after thoughts or wipe them away. Of course, what I am suggesting is difficult.

When we think, we tend to chase after our thoughts. So when we are doing this, we just have to correct our posture. Thinking is not good, but chasing after thoughts, or trying to erase them, is no good either. This is why posture is so important. You think, and your posture crumbles. You correct it. You think again, and your neck or your torso bends, or some part of your body slips, and again you correct it. Keep your posture right, leaving things as they are (aru ga mama) . . .

There is ‘good feeling’ zazen too, isn’t there? ‘Ah this feels great.’ In fact, this too is not really good zazen. When you are feeling ‘this is good zazen,’ just check yourself out and you will see. You may think, ‘This is wonderful. The time flew by while I was sitting.’ But if you check your posture during these times, you’ll see you’re actually spacing out.

You really have to give all your effort to it, and it’s not easy to do this kind of zazen. Still, you have to keep aiming for it. When you do that, and your body is in the correct position, you will feel it. Then the feeling, ‘This is fine,’ will become apparent. It will happen naturally. ‘Ah, I should just sit — this is the way of the universe.’

The body becomes the ‘body as it is’ (sono mama) . . . The body is the universe, isn’t it? Breathing is the work of the universe; it’s not the work of your individual self. Thinking too is the work of the universe. And, as is written in the Genjôkoan, delusion and realization are one — both a part of the same scenery. So bringing your body back to the universe is zazen (the essence of zazen). Hence, Sawaki Roshi’s statement, ‘By your­self you make the self your self.’ Truly, you become your self. And that is the universe. That this thing be­comes this thing is the form of the universe. If you want to become some­thing else, you are making a mistake. You need to be satisfied with who you are.

A: Is there no difference in sitting alone or with a group?

Jôkô: In the final analysis there isn’t.

A: In the ancient writings, there is talk of the importance of a com­munity (sangha). Dogen says you should sit with one or two others.

Jôkô: Yes, that too is important. When you practise by yourself and get tired, you can easily quit. ‘Ah I’m tired, I’ll just rest . . . ‘(laughs). But when you practise with others, you can’t operate that way.

A: You are taught by your posture, aren’t you? When you think about something, your posture starts to collapse. When you practise with others, aren’t you still taught by your posture?

Jôkô: Yes. You practise with all your heart, and when you start to slip up, you correct yourself. Because zazen is your world. Even if someone is sitting next to you, it’s still your world. At that time, you have to practise with care. But when you practise by yourself and your legs hurt after thirty minutes, you say to yourself, ‘I’ll take a break. ‘ When you’re sitting with others, you can’t do that. If you agree to sit for forty minutes, you sit for that time. If you agree to sit for fifty minutes, you have to sit for that duration. You have to hang in there, don’t you?

A: Jôkô-san, haven’t you been sitting by yourself for the last eighteen years? (Yokoyama Roshi died eighteen years ago.)

Jôkô: Yes. Now it’s easier to sit; I sit a lot longer. Zazen goes deeper and deeper. The more you practise, the deeper you go. It’s still just zazen — the depth . . .

A: Do you do sesshins by yourself?

Jôkô: I’m not sure what you mean by sesshin, but if you mean sitting fourteen hours a day (he’s referring to the Antaiji schedule), I can’t sit fourteen hours each day. I usually sit between eight and ten hours a day. That’s all I can do. I get tired when I do more than ten hours. By the eleventh hour, I’ve had enough. No matter how won­derful my zazen is, at some point it feels like it’s too much (laughs). I feel like I’ve had it (laughs).

A: Years ago you sat with others — Shûsoku-san and others.

Jôkô: Yes, yes.

A: You don’t get together with any of them now?

Jôkô: They are all doing their own thing now. And, after all, fewer and fewer people are doing zazen now.

A: In Japan there are fewer people doing zazen?

Jôkô: I think so. I really don’t get much news about it, so it’s just a feeling I have. I don’t know if it’s really so.

A: If someone came along and wanted to practise as your disciple, would you let him?

Jôkô: Sure. We would live and work to­gether and he would have to be willing to do zazen as I do it. He wouldn’t be able to play around (laughs). This is a place for zazen. If some­one wants to do zazen here, I don’t care who it is, it’s fine . . . This is a nice place, isn’t it? You can see Yatsu­gatake Mountain on a clear day.

A: Is the altitude of Komoro high?

Jôkô: Yes. It’s about six hundred metres high. The city is at the front entrance to the mountain. Later we can walk around here. I’m always doing zazen, so I don’t take good care of the garden — it’s pretty sloppy (laughs). I really have to attend to it . . .

Thursday, August 18, 2011

Ian MacKaye

I just ran across this quote from one of my favorite musicians and Washington D.C. native Ian MacKaye:

"The first time I played a bass, I was successful. Success is not a goal. Success is in the doing. Always."

I think that describes Shikantaza pretty well( even though it is beyond success and failure).

Thursday, April 7, 2011

The Posture is Beyond Thinking

I read this passage today from Issho Fujita via Kyoshin Samuels excellent Jodo Shinshu/Zazen blog "Echoes of The Name". I highly recommend Kyoshin's blog. I've really become intrigued with Shinran through Kyoshin's blog. Taigen Leighton also has a number talks on the similaatities between Dogen and Shinran on his sight.

"When we refer to the qualities of.....beyond thinking(hishiryo).....we mean that the sitting posture is (itself) beyond thinking and has no thought,.....not that we ourselves are. We will never be beyond thinking.....What we can do is sit with the faith that zazen posture itself is Buddha, that zazen posture itself is beyond thinking. We tend to think that we are sitting zazen. This is not the case. The entire universe is sitting zazen."

How awesome is that?


Tuesday, December 21, 2010

The Mudra

It's been a while since I've posted anything.

For one, I've been extremely busy( a good thing) at work and I was away at Sesshin at the Milwaukee Zen Center w/ Rev. Tonen O'Conner. Tonen is one hell of a teacher and is the dharma sister of my teacher, Toshu. MZC's library is excellent. I stayed awake most nights reading instead of sleeping. It was worth it.

One of the things I've been paying attention to quite a lot lately is the cosmic mudra while I sit. I read Warm Smiles from Cold Mountains by Reb Anderson recently and was inspired by a particular passage in the chapter "Listen to The Body". The passage reads, " I would also like to take this opportunity to mention again the wonderful practice of touching your hands to each other in this mudra we call the concentration, or cosmic mudra. Please keep this mudra in contact with your abdomen while sitting. Actually touch the hands to the abdomen, and keep actual tactile contact there. "

Reb goes on to explain how the hands drifitng away from the abdomen is an "advanced gaurd" against drowsiness and probably more reliable than the eyes closing. My experience since reading this is that he is absolutely correct. Almost every one has been told that what the mudra looks like is a mirror of what the mind is going through during zazen, but the suggestion about contact with the abdomen was new to me. I'm glad I've been made aware of this as it has been really helpful.

A few observations: First there may be something very physiologically profound about this. If you look at a Motor Homonculus one of the first things you will note is the size of the hands. For those of you who don't know what a Homonculus is, it is a chart that shows what if would look like if the human body were built in proportion to the amount of brain power needed to "motor" a body part. If we were proportioned accordingly, our hands and mouth would be our biggest body parts.

Interesting huh? What does this tell us? For one it says sit down and shut up. Next it tells us that the hand position may in fact be the most important part of the zazen posture, not the spine, head, neck, etc. My recent experience has shown me that if my mudra stays "energized", nuetral, and against my abdomen, then my spine stays effortlessly erect, my neck stays free and relaxed, my breathing deepens and my mind quites down without any manipulation. My sitting "sits" in the mudra.

Of course I need to be careful not to come across as sounding as if this is a technique, but I do find it interesting that in the "zazen world" so much attention is placed on other parts of the body while nueroscience clearly shows that the hands are much more responsible for a larger consumption of brain activity. Looking at this as a feedback loop and refering to my experience, I think that the hands may play more important of a role than they get credit for in keeping the zazen posture whole.

Thursday, September 9, 2010

Issho Fujita Audio Talk

I found a talk by Issho Fujita(along with a bunch of other gems) over at Taigen Dan Leighton's website. It is talk number 64 and is titled "Zazen is Not Learning Meditation". What an inspiration! Enjoy.

Saturday, March 6, 2010

Issho Fujita

Here is an excellent two part video introduction to Zazen by the Reverend Issho Fujita.

For those of you who don't know of him, Rev. Fujita was a practitoner at Antaiji before moving to Massachusetts to help guide Antaiji's satellite, the Valley Zendo(he moved back to Japan a few years ago). The Valley Zendo website has the notebooks of Rev. Fujita and in my opinion should be deemed required reading for all of those who practice Shikantaza. Rev. Fujita has explored in his writings the physical aspects of sitting in a very unique way. He is always trying out new forms of bodywork to expand and deepen his understanding of Zazen.

Here is an interview where he discusses this and an article of his on the differences between Zazen and meditation.