Chasing the Benefits of Zazen Is Why You Quit: What Shikantaza Teaches About Sitting Without Trying to Gain Anything

You Quit Zazen Because You Feel 'It Isn't Working'

You took up zazen wanting to calm your mind. It is supposed to sharpen focus, supposed to reduce stress—so, full of such hopes, you sit each morning. Yet after one week, two weeks, you feel no dramatic change. 'Maybe this just isn't for me after all.' And so, before you know it, your feet drift away from the cushion. Many who begin zazen run into this very wall.

But here lies a great oversight. The reason zazen does not last is not that it 'isn't working.' It is that 'trying to make it work' is itself cramping the practice and turning sitting into an ordeal. As long as we sit in order to gain something, every time we sit we go on tasting the sense of lack: 'I haven't gained it yet.'

What Dogen Meant by 'Shikantaza'

Master Dogen, who brought Soto Zen to Japan, held an extremely clear stance toward zazen. It was 'shikantaza'—the teaching of just wholeheartedly sitting.

Shikantaza is a way of sitting in which one does not sit for the sake of something, but makes the sitting itself the purpose. You sit neither to attain awakening nor to quiet the mind. You just sit—that is all. In his Fukanzazengi, Dogen taught, in essence, that zazen is not a means to attain awakening; rather, the sitting itself is already the manifestation of awakening. This is called 'oneness of practice and realization.' Practice and awakening are not two separate things; the very form of just sitting is itself a state of completion.

This teaching turns our common sense upside down. We tend to think that 'after piling up effort (practice), there is a reward (awakening, benefits) at the end.' But Dogen says that the very moment of sitting is already the goal.

Why the 'Mind That Tries to Gain' Becomes the Obstacle

During zazen, when we are thinking 'I want to calm down quickly' or 'Am I concentrating well?', our mind is not in this present moment. It is leaning forward toward an ideal future state. This is precisely the very condition of a mind that is not at rest.

In other words, a paradox arises: the harder we strive to 'calm down,' the more that striving mind stirs up waves, leaving us less able to calm down. As long as we hold the measuring stick of trying to gauge results, we cannot be free of the verdict 'the way I am now is not enough.'

When Dogen said 'just sit,' he also meant: let go, at least while you are sitting, of this measuring mind, this mind that tries to gain. When we sit without a purpose, the mind is freed for the first time from leaning toward the future, and returns wholly to this present moment. Benefits are something that quietly arrive as a by-product, precisely when we stop seeking them.

The Morning I Stopped Trying to 'Sit Well'

When I first took up zazen, I graded myself every single time: 'Did I manage to empty my mind properly today?' Each time a stray thought arose I would sink—'Ah, my focus broke again, failure'—and sometimes I even finished a sitting feeling tired. With that, there was no telling what I was sitting for.

One morning, too sleepy to care, I half gave up and sat thinking, 'Today I'll stop trying to sit well. It's enough just to sit until the time is up.' And strangely, that was the first day the time of sitting itself felt oddly comfortable. Stray thoughts arose as ever, but without judging them as 'failure,' I simply watched—'ah, I'm thinking'—and returned to the breath. The instant the strain of trying to do well drained away, sitting grew light. That morning, I felt I had understood the words 'just sitting' a little, in my body. When I stopped trying to gain, sitting became mine for the first time.

Four Points of Heart for Just Sitting

What does it actually mean to sit without seeking results? Here are four points of heart worth keeping in mind in daily zazen.

First, before sitting, resolve in your heart: 'Today I will try to gain nothing.' Gently set aside, for the duration of the sitting, the goals of calming down or concentrating.

Second, do not try to erase stray thoughts. Thoughts are not the enemy. Like clouds drifting across the sky, simply watch thoughts arise and pass. The harder you struggle to wipe them away, the more they settle in. When you notice, return to the breath without blame—just repeat this, plainly.

Third, place your attention on the 'here and now' anchors of posture and breath. Straighten your spine, and entrust your attention to the sensation of breath entering and leaving. By returning to the body's sensation rather than to thought, the mind naturally comes back to the present.

Fourth, do not grade 'how it went' after you finish. The moment you evaluate today's zazen, the gaining mind returns. You sat—and that is already enough. Rise quietly with that thought.

When You Release the Benefits, Daily Life Quietly Changes

Interestingly, when you keep sitting after giving up the search for benefits, it is your daily life that quietly changes before you know it. This is not the direct reward of 'I did zazen, so my focus improved'; it is a change that occurs in a far deeper place.

The habit of just sitting, trying to gain nothing, loosens the very modern value that 'there is no point without results.' Always calculating returns, demanding efficiency, evaluating yourself by outcomes—that habit gradually unknots itself through sitting. Then, even in daily life, you stop measuring things solely by 'whether they are useful,' and become able to savor what is before you in itself. The time spent drinking tea, a while spent with someone, an ordinary walk—these come to feel rich in themselves, not 'for the sake of' anything.

Sitting Is Already Complete

To anyone troubled that their zazen does not last, there is one thing I most want to say: 'Your zazen has not failed.' Even if you cannot concentrate, even if you are full of stray thoughts, even if you cannot sit well enough, the very form of having turned toward the cushion intending to sit is already shikantaza.

Dogen's teaching of the oneness of practice and realization is an endlessly gentle one: the very moment of sitting is already the goal. You need not sit aiming at some 'correct zazen' that exists elsewhere; you may entrust yourself, at ease, to this very moment of sitting now. Stop chasing the future phantom called 'benefits,' and just sit. Within that 'just,' all the stillness that zazen originally offers is already contained.