Many years ago, I found myself alone for the first time in my life. I had made some bad decisions and was living on the South Side of Chicago, near Midway Airport. It was a kind of alone I had never experienced before. For the first time, I was the only person responsible for my life and my well-being.
I was navigating the emotional wreckage of a divorce. My parents had both passed away years earlier. I didn’t have much family I could rely on, and I didn’t want to burden the ones I did have. There was a lot of grief and fear filling my breath at that time.
Looking back, I see this as the time I finally realized who I was. But back then, it was hard to believe this could be the start of anything beautiful.
The Man Who Didn’t Know His Favorite Color
I was so broken that making any decision felt almost unbearable. I couldn’t tell you who I was. I needed to buy furniture and had no idea what kind I liked or even what my favorite color was.
It felt like my entire personality was just an amalgamation of all the people who had been in my life. It was like I just absorbed everything I liked in others to be myself. I couldn’t even tell if I liked a t-shirt until I saw it on someone else. This was not the person I believed myself to be.
The Challenge
I spoke with a friend, one of the only people willing to listen. She suggested that I try something new every day, but with a rule: it couldn’t be anything that I didn’t fear a little.
I decided to take her up on the idea, but I had to modify it. My job didn’t have a set schedule, so I compromised: I would do bigger things every week. I also expanded the rule. I didn’t want to limit it just to things that scared me; I opened it up to things I always wanted to try.
Sometimes the weeks were so crazy, I allowed myself to do something simpler. For example, I was literally afraid of Thai food. I thought I would hate it… But secretly, I wanted to try it.
Finding the Dragon’s Gate
One of the things I had always wanted to try was Zen Buddhism. I loved studying different religions and had a little book of Koans from when I was younger that I loved exploring.
I started searching and found two Zen Centers. The one that caught my eye was Ancient Dragon Zen Gate. It was on the North Side of Chicago, sounded amazing, and was a little closer. That was my choice.
They offered introductory classes in Zen Meditation right before the group meditation (Zazen) and a spiritual talk (Dharma). I had to get up early, but I decided that wasn’t too awful.
I remember the intense excitement building as I was driving there. I was also so nervous. I didn’t know what to wear or how to act. But nothing could stop me at that point.
I arrived and received my instructions from the teacher, Taigen Dan Leighton. I remember thinking he seemed like a man of great peace —a concept I did not understand at all at that time.
The Vision and the Wall
In Zen, you meditate facing the wall to avoid distractions. I had meditated before, but it was more spiritual than “just sitting”. When the group came in, I heard the bell and focused on the white wall in front of me.
We sat for 30 minutes. It felt like years.
During the meditation, I had a vision. I don’t remember the details now, but it hit me really hard at the time. I thought about it for a week straight. I needed to go back and tell someone. I was sure they would understand and appreciate how special this miracle was. I figured they would encourage me to continue.
“Don’t Worry, That Will Pass”
Finally, the day came. I walked in a little early and told another Monk about my vision.
She nodded and said, “Don’t worry, that will pass”.
To me, it was obvious she had misunderstood. There was no surprise, no amazement in her voice. So, I repeated my story.
She had the same answer.
People started to gather for Zazen. I took my cushion, a little upset. Surely she was not understanding me, and I was obviously not explaining myself well.
I didn’t have a vision this time, probably because of my anger.
After the meditation, Taigen gave the Dharma talk. He told a story of a distressed person who comes to a Zen master.“My mind is so cloudy,” the person says, “full of thoughts, desires, and worries. I cannot find peace or become enlightened.” The Zen Master replied, “Don’t worry, that will pass.”
The next week, the same person approached the Zen Master, ecstatic. “My mind is clear now,” the person said, “and surely I will reach enlightenment.” The Zen Master replied, “Don’t worry, that will pass.”
It was like a bolt struck me. I was that person. My mind was cloudy, filled with the grief, desires, and worries I had been carrying. And I knew that surely, with time, it would pass.
At that very moment, I let go of all the grief and fear that I was holding onto. I felt the weight of the world fall off my shoulders.
The Journey Home
I kept going to Ancient Dragon for a little while, but life has this way of blocking you from actually living.
After my kidney transplant, I started to heal my body. I’ve become so much stronger than I ever thought I could, but something was missing. The medication I was taking was making me feel more anxious and irritated at small things.
I started meditating on my own again. It fixed all the problems, but somehow it wasn’t enough.
Then I found out that I could attend Ancient Dragon virtually. I have been doing this at least three times a week ever since. The feeling of community (sangha) is something I cherish. I feel like I am home when I am with my group.
If you find yourself alone, just know that, of course, you aren’t. But sometimes you just have to be willing to try something you haven’t yet and explore ways to let go.
