New book review for Still Running: The Art of Meditation in Motion, by Vanessa Zuisei Goddard, Shambhala, 2020:
Copy provided by Amazon.
In her introduction to this book, Goddard discusses the concept of "zazen", seated meditation, as the main path to liberation in Buddhism, and then quickly follows up by explaining that zazen isn't about being quiet, or just about focusing or even gaining insight on the meditation cushion, as it should function in our everyday lives. She is also quick to explain that what she presents here is not limited to running, as walking, swimming, and bicycling are also excellent forms of moving zazen because of their repetitive, meditative nature. She comments that running has been her main form of exercise for thirty-five years, and as a longtime runner myself who began by running competitively in school for ten years and often meditates while running as an adult, I think I might be able to provide some perspective.
She subsequently explains the transition between stillness and movement, being and doing. "First we need to learn to move into stillness to make contact with our basic clarity and wisdom. Then, from that stillness, we must move out into activity, letting that clarity inform the way we live day to day. This is the functioning of compassion. And while I wouldn't claim that jogging a few miles a day will lead to enlightenment or compassion, I do see running meditation as an excellent entry point into the deep exploration of the nature of body and mind within daily life. Running zazen - which I call still running - can show us that fundamentally there is no difference between stillness and movement, body and mind, self and other. And this, the Buddha said, is the realization that leads to the end of suffering."
This book is broken down into 14 chapters: (1) "practice", (2) "intent", (3) "commitment, (4) "discipline", (5) "body", (6) "effort", (7) "breath", (8) "mind", (9) "pain", (10) "creation", (11) "stillness", (12) "movement", (13) "silence", and (14) "credo". At the conclusion of each chapter, Goddard provides a sidebar on how to practice what is presented, and explains her intent prior to the practice provided in the first chapter. "Zazen is the heart of the path of self-exploration. Without some form of meditative practice, it is very difficult to see ourselves clearly. So let's start by paring things down to the bare essentials - body, breath, and mind - and on this stable ground build the foundation for a strong running zazen practice."
The author furthers her thoughts on "practice" in the first chapter. "To practice means to perform an activity or skill repeatedly in order to improve our proficiency in it. Spiritual practice is the constant and deliberate turning of our attention toward the fundamental questions of a human life. Who am I? What is life? What is death? What is reality? What is truth? In Buddhism, these questions are addressed primarily through the practice of zazen. But we can also apply this concept of practice to other areas of our lives. To practice an activity means to do it with focused attention and a deep desire to be awake to and within it. It's a desire to understand what is happening, not just on the surface of things but at a fundamental level - the level of ultimate reality. So to be awake means to see that reality clearly. It means not taking our thoughts, our ideas, our beliefs, or our actions for granted. Not assuming that we know and understand what we haven't carefully studied and deeply pondered."
While I can relate to much of what Goddard shares because of my many years as a runner, I also often found our views diverging as I read what she has to say here. For example, in her practice at the end of chapter 11, entitled "moving into stillness: move into stillness by focusing on a mantra as you run", I can relate to her suggestion to use a mantra as the point of focus while running. I typically use even-numbered phrases that correspond to a sequence of strides, and in recent years often count, with the most recent being a mantra of "1, 2, 3, 4". However, when I do this I am actually doing so to zone out. In fact, I've often commented to others that time seemingly passes by much more quickly when I do this. Now, thinking back to my beginnings as a runner in grade school, I was explicitly coached to focus on my breathing. However, once I got this down I found it distracting to be consciously aware of my breathing, so over time removed this practice from my repertoire.
The author comments that a mantra is intended to keep focus, but quickly follows up by explaining that you shouldn't lose track of what you're saying, or repeat them automatically without much awareness. I personally see no value in being aware of one's mantra, but I suppose one's view will differ based on objective. When I count, it is to focus on my running and to block out my surroundings, but apparently, Goddard is instructing the reader to focus on the mantra itself. Interestingly, she closes her explanation of this practice by sharing that Gandhi used to say that repeating the name of God has more power in it than an atomic bomb. However, I would instead say that the name of God itself has the power, not the repetition of it. In-between repetitions of my current mantra, I choose instead to pray. The author mentions body, breath, and mind, but doesn't mention soul. It's not clear how the author is able to answer the question "What is truth?", but somebody else once said "I am the truth", "the truth shall set you free", and to "be still and know that I am God".