This year’s sesshin unfolded in a way that felt both familiar and completely new. As I was leaving home, “two parts” of me were already active: one eager to return to the intensity of practice, the other warm and comfortable in the life I know. I wasn’t looking forward to the three-hour drive, and I carried no expectations — only the intention to stay with whatever arose.
The theme of this sesshin was rooted in Zen Master Keizan’s teachings, especially his instructions for Zazen — that profound invitation to “slough off body and mind.” I’ve read those words many times in the past, but this year they seemed to echo through every period of sitting, every chant, every walk in the cold Peak District air. A reminder that practice is not about polishing or improving anything; it’s about letting the weight fall away, breath after breath.
At the Nightingale Centre, I settled quickly into the rhythm. Early morning Zen running, long sits, chanting, quiet meals, endless moments of simply watching the mind’s movements. The weather was fierce this year — cold, wet, cutting — and it made everything feel more alive. More real. One morning I ran in the rain and stayed drenched for hours, oddly grateful for the rawness of it.
As always, I rebelled a little. I skipped a couple of Samu sessions to walk in the woods instead. The outdoors kept calling, and I listened. Those long solitary walks became their own form of Zazen, their own version of sloughing off everything unnecessary — thoughts, tensions, stories about who I should be.
Meditation deepened steadily. Some sits felt like pure ease: breath, sound, sensation, all arising and dissolving with natural clarity. Other sits were restless, but even those became workable — nothing to fix, nothing to push away.
One significant moment for me was giving a talk on Tōzan’s Five Ranks. It’s a teaching I’ve always found subtle and intimate — this dynamic play between the absolute and the relative, the way awakening appears and then integrates into everyday life. Preparing the talk brought me deeper into my own relationship with the Ranks, and delivering it felt surprisingly natural. Years ago, speaking in front of a group would have terrified me. Now, it feels like part of the path — part of the “returning to the marketplace” that Tōzan himself describes.
Sanzen was another powerful aspect of the retreat. Hearing people’s struggles and aspirations, it becomes clear each time that there is very little that needs to be “done.” The real offering is simply presence. Just being there as another human being practising this mysterious path.
On one of my final walks — brilliant sunlight cutting through the valley — I reflected on an old habit of feeling watched or evaluated by some invisible observer. It struck me how much practice is about releasing that imaginary gaze. Truly sloughing off body and mind includes sloughing off that performing self. To walk without acting. To speak without rehearsing. To live without shrinking.
Thoughts during this sesshin felt lighter, almost transparent. Some ideas came through with clarity — like creating a YouTube series exploring the Platform Sutra. Others simply rose and fell away like quick weather patterns.
By the last morning, I felt the two parts of me again: one wanting to stay in the sesshin rhythm forever, the other ready to go home, to teach, to continue living this practice in the middle of ordinary life. Both parts are fine. Both belong.
That morning, I went searching for a new path to walk, and I found one. As I followed it and briefly wondered if I might be lost, something simple arose: I am here. I am breathing. I am safe. And that was enough. Keizan’s words again: slough off body and mind. Let go into this very moment.
What is lost? What is not lost?
Just being here.
Just being this.
Zen Mindfulness Cambridge Zenways Italia 