Some Buddhists will say that worrying about the future clutters the mind.  I think I’ve heard it referred to as “monkey brain.”  Remaining in the moment constitutes one part of Zen Buddhist practice.  Before I started my project, I thought I knew something about Buddhism.  I had taken a World Religion class in community college.  I’d read excerpts of the Buddha’s teachings in What the Buddha Taught by Walpola Rahula.  It seemed pretty straight forward.  I just couldn’t remember all the steps in the 8-fold path or even the 4 Noble Truths for that matter. 

                The cessation of desire doesn’t really seem all that complicated a concept in theory.  In practice, I figured the more daunting challenge existed in living the life of a mendicant.  I assumed all Buddhists would see my conclusions as self evident.  How could a Buddhist practice the Buddha’s teachings and drive a Lexus? 

                Time magazine released their list of 51 steps to a greener future in the “Global Warming Survival Guide.”  The 51^st thing people could do individually to produce a greener tomorrow?  “Live simply.  Meditate. Consume less.  Think more” (“51 Things We Can Do.” 69). As I understood the advice, Time essentially encouraged their audience to practice Zen Buddhism in order to improve our collective future.  Fortunately, the Arizona Zen Buddhist Society accepted me as a two-month guest around the time the article went to print.

                Find a distinct cultural group different than myself and become a guest participant of that group formed my graduate assignment at Arizona State University.  Generally, I’m not inclined to ask people personal questions uninvited.  In many settings I opt to assume the quiet role of observer.  People can spend a day or two with me in a foreign environment and never learn my name.  This action neither comes from social anxiety nor disdain.  I try to respect the personal space and privacy of those around me.  I also subscribe to the belief that each interaction has positive and negative potentials.  If I don’t know the outcome ahead of time, I’ll err on the side of not creating a negative impression.

                With the aforementioned in mind, this assignment challenged me from the very beginning.  During my assignment, my core principle of social interaction played a secondary role to the completion of my project.  From the start, my project seemed all-encompassing and limited in scope at best.  As I see my goal for this assignment, I’m trying to find some truth (if that’s possible) about the group of people kind enough to host my presence and questions.  I want to understand something about them I didn’t understand before.  Getting beyond my idea of a Buddhist challenged me first, because I didn’t find what I thought I would.

The reason for my determination to get past my initial misgivings springs from several aquifers within me.  First, and probably foremost, I love a challenge.  When my gut tells me to flee in the fight or flight of intellectual challenge, my head tells me to stick it out.  Almost any experience contains a nugget of something valuable.  The second part of my determination comes from a desire to acquire knowledge in a stricter social sense.  I’m trying to obtain a master’s degree from an accredited university.  In that endeavor, I must not seek the easy path but take every academic assignment as given and carry the workload through to the end.  Finally, I have an aversion to organized religions as I’ve understood them.  I’ve understood them primarily in western forms.  Buddhism has always struck my interest as an anachronism that exists as a contradiction to most other organized options for spiritual fulfillment in America. 

                I wanted to understand Buddhism as a way to advance my own inner contentment.  After spending eight weeks with Zen Buddhists, I found myself at a crossroads.  The Zen Buddhists who served as my hosts didn’t ask much of me, but I asked a lot of them.  As hard as I tried to make myself unobtrusive, I feel in the end I failed in that objective.  My interactions with the group started well, because I eased into the group and they apparently expected little of me.  As time went on, I felt I may have touched some raw nerves and disrupted the flow of what they tried to accomplish.  I went into this group seeking to gain knowledge.  In order to gain this knowledge in a short period of time, I went in to conquer them in some regards. 

                This dynamic of conquest on my part surely impacted the communication between my hosts and me.  I can honestly say I never received any abuse or openly disparaging remarks from my Zen Buddhist hosts.  They were polite and reserved in each individual interaction and I was lucky they shared their time with me.  In fact, over time, I took for granted my outsider status until the very end of the assignment.  A couple of conditions led to my feelings of inclusion within the Arizona Zen Buddhist Society, but none as profound as their open-door policy to visitors and students.

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                The limited number of resources on Zen Buddhism in America immediately struck me as I researched and prepared.  Zen Buddhist searches in popular media databases commonly yield book reviews that borrow Zen tradition and apply it to modern problems, such as; White Collar Zen: Using Principles to Overcome Obstacles  and Achieve Your Career Goals (Gregory 240).  Peter N. Gregory accurately states, “The scholarship is still woefully incomplete, and the field at this point could be characterized more by what it has yet to do than by what it has done” (Gregory 240).  A general Buddhism search in academic databases yield a fairly large number of scholarly works completed, but much of this work focuses on ethnic forms of Buddhism in the Tibetan tradition or Buddhist immigrants in North America as opposed to American converts.  Robert Wuthnow and Wendy Cadge describe the research into Buddhism as, “descriptive or ethnographic…studies [that] have sought to document…histories, teachings and practices” (Wuthnow and Cadge 363). 

                A relatively small body of research sheds some light on the beliefs of individual Buddhists practicing in the Zen tradition.  What has been discovered is significant but much more work is left to be completed.  Wuthnow and Cadge observed, “Ethnographic studies of Buddhism suggest that people have been attracted to some forms of Buddhism because they could adopt particular practices…without having to become Buddhist” (Wuthnow and Cadge 367).  However, this type of insight remains relatively sparse in Buddhist studies today.  It seems many researchers resist the urge to observe Buddhists in their world and instead get hung up on trying to create a Buddhist typology.

                Peter N. Gregory posited, “one of the central tasks facing researchers today is taxonomical: finding appropriate categories to describe the Buddhist elephant” (Gregory 239).  His reference to “elephant” is not a derogatory comment- he uses the elephant due to a metaphor in a classic Buddhist teaching- but his statement seems to overestimate the usefulness of labels.  Angie Danyluk observed, “With rare exception, there are no subjects and no voices involved in a great deal of the literature on naming” (Danyluk 130).  Naming without a voice exposes Buddhists to the whims and attitudes of the current writer rather than allowing them an opportunity to express their own meaning as understood by them.  Reasons exist for why someone might begin their research with trying to define Buddhist sub-groups though.

                Peter N. Gregory acknowledges that, “the spread of Buddhism in America opens a new chapter…the prospect of studying what promises to be a momentous development in the history of Buddhism” (Gregory 233).  Where to start presents the initial hurdle in studying Buddhists.  Danyluk observes, “Calling someone a Buddhist in the West…appears initially on the surface a fairly straightforward undertaking” (Danyluk 127).  Buddhists problematize the straightforward by practicing many different varieties of Buddhism and the difference from one to another sometimes seems drastic.

                Some Buddhists in Asia born into Buddhist society practice much like some Christians in America.  They may identify themselves with the religious institution, but not be fully engaged in the practice.  Some people suggest some immigrant Asians in America become Buddhist for the opportunity to join an existing Asian community and associate with like-minded individuals in a foreign land.  Amidst this migration of the Buddhist religion from the East to the West, the religion itself changes with each new location and teacher.  On top of this, some within the Buddhist community express concern over a perceived Americanization of Buddhist practices today.

                These gradual changes push people like Gregory to submit that, “terminological difficulties remind us that the category of American convert covers a wide gradient on which we need to locate a spot between sympathizers…and converts” (Gregory 242).  In other words, we need to create boxes for our subjects so we can understand them better.  It would seem, though, the road to understanding American converts to Buddhism has gained minor attention for study.  Gregory, Wuthnow and Cadge all agree that American converts to Buddhism “are mostly middle class” and “well educated” (Wuthnow and Cadge 367 & Gregory 245).

To get a clearer sense of the Buddhist identity, some researchers suggest allowing self-identification to serve as the means of determining a Buddhist from a non-Buddhist.  Angie Danyluk said, “…it may be more useful to ask if someone has taken the Three Refuges” but speaking from personal experience I think I’ve been doing that for the last two months without even realizing it (Danyluk 131).  I agree with Danyluk’s approach though.  She suggests that,

Relying upon the personal narratives of practitioners can serve to highlight the ways, in which the label of ‘Buddhist’ comes to be meaningful, as it emerges in the telling of stories, and the doing of the everyday (Danyluk 139).

        However, Danyluk does seem to misinterpret a key aspect of self identification from Buddhists with regard to the labels they apply to themselves.  When speaking with one of her hosts, Danyluk observes “[her] response is indicative of the confusion and struggle with which so many others [Buddhists] respond” when asked if they are a Buddhist (Danyluk 137).  It seems to me that Danyluk may have confused a deep-seeded understanding of impermanence with her confusion of asking a Buddhist to label their identity.

              One thing about studying Buddhism seems true.  A lot of ambiguity can flourish between non-Buddhist observers and Buddhist practitioners.  My hosts did not seem inclined to create dichotomies or absolute statements, unlike self-proclaimed Buddhist David Landis Barnhill who stated, “It is all too clear that consumerism goes directly against virtually everything Buddhism stands for” (Barnhill 55).  Opinions I encountered were not as cut and dry, although I shared his bias going into my study and tried to find the connection.  Barnhill goes on to say, “It is not my own personal avarice as much as the ubiquity of the engulfing system of consumerism that I find myself an inevitable part of” (Barnhill 57).  This more nuanced approach to Buddhism existing in tandem with capitalist, free-markets represents more closely the types of responses I received to my leading questions about consumerism versus Buddhism.

            Buddhist writer Sulak Sivaraksa shared more in common with the spirit of the Arizona Zen Buddhist Society.  Sivaraksa notes, “The Buddha’s original teaching remains a common fund for all branches of Buddhism, and it is expressed in the Four Noble Truths…and the…Eight-fold Path” (Sivaraksa 9).  Sulak boils the essence of Buddhism down to negotiating “the middle path between the extremes of hedonism and asceticism” (Sivaraksa 9).  His observation that friends of Buddhists do not need to be Buddhists themselves definitely seems pervasive from my experience; as well as his de-emphasis on the “myth, culture, and ceremony” in favor of “concentrating on the message of the Buddha” (Sivaraksa 9).  This last sentiment can be interpreted in several ways, but the Arizona Zen Buddhist Society has chosen to practice what the Buddha did (i.e. meditation) rather than studying what the Buddha said.

            According to Peter N. Gregory, “Buddhism is sometimes hyped as the fastest growing religion in America today” (Gregory 236).  He presents evidence that over 1,000 Buddhist meditation centers exist in North America, excluding temples where meditation is not taught and/or English is not the predominant language (Gregory 238).  In Robert Wuthnow and Wendy Cadge’s survey, their statistical results may have interesting implications with regard to America’s acceptance of Buddhism.  Their study suggests that between .07% and 1.9% of adult Americans may be Buddhist (Wuthnow and Cadge 364).  55% of Americans, on the other hand, claim to have had contact with Buddhists (as opposed to 20% claiming to have had little contact) (Wuthnow and Cadge 369).  Of those who had contact with Buddhists, 4 to 1 rated this contact as pleasant (Wuthnow and Cadge 371).  Surprisingly, 59% of Americans they surveyed said they would welcome an increased Buddhist presence in the U.S. (Wuthnow and Cadge 365). 

            
                They offer a variety of methods to explain how Buddhism established a presence in the U.S.  I verified some of their suggestions with the aid of my hosts.  The Zen Buddhist attitude toward outsiders seems to be one of inclusion into practice if not fully into the culture.  “They do not require practitioners to identify as Buddhists, to give up other religious beliefs or traditions, or to go through a conversion experience” (Wuthnow and Cadge 366).  This apparent lack of dogma surrounding the identity of those in attendance may possibly appeal to Americans as well as what Wuthnow and Cadge suggest is the Buddhist’s lack of strictness when compared with “Assemblies of God or Baptist fundamentalists” (Wuthnow and Cadge 366).  They also suggest Buddhism gained American exposure by making use of “facilities and leaders available to it at churches and synagogues” (Wuthnow and Cadge 367).  This final example more than any other seems accurate with regard to my experience with the Arizona Zen Buddhist Society.

            America’s apparent willingness to engage with Buddhism presents an interesting opportunity to reflect back upon Time magazine’s 51^st solution for alleviating global warning.  The benefits described by advocating an essential Zen Buddhist practice is: consumption will decrease, sharing will increase and people will live simpler lives (“51 Things We Can Do” 69).  Steven Heine posits in White Collar Zen: Using Principles to Overcome Obstacles and Achieve Your Career Goals that “in case a novice feels unprepared to use Zen for success...Zen has great flexibility, that is not orthodoxy” (Gould 124).  He also claims “that the sort of isolation prescribed by Zen makes us more fit for organizational life” which very well may be true (Gould 124).  Sulak Sivaraksa emphatically adds, “The most valued contribution of masters of the Way is their presence, not their action” (Sivaraksa 10).  David Barnhill may offer the best reason for adopting a Buddhist outlook in America when he said, “Every time you walk into the midst of craving and violence and you are yourself peace, you have overcome” (Barnhill 62). 

            I don’t see how we could ever have too many people in the United States of America aggressively overcoming in a peaceful manner.

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            “[I]f the Buddha were around now, don’t you think he would say something about this technology?  Doesn’t the Internet oppose his teachings of moderation, restraint, non-confusion, and non-greed?”  (Winston 4).

The first introduction to the Arizona Zen Buddhist Society took place on the Internet.  My introduction to the group took place on the Internet as well.  The group’s leader Yin De (“72^nd generation disciple of Bodhidharma (d.530), the 1^st patriarch of Ch’an, and a…62^nd disciple of Master Lin Ji (Rinzai) (d. 866), and a 3^rd generation disciple of Master Hsu-Yun”) also answers to the name Randy (Yin De).  Randy created the Arizona Zen Buddhist Society website in 2003 and connected with Carl who practiced Buddhism as well.  They both have Buddhist names, as I imagine anyone who has taken refuge would, but I’ll use their Western names for my own comfort.

                It is not intended as a slight.

Randy & Carl are the founding members of the Arizona Zen Buddhist Society.  I will start by telling you a little bit about Randy since he initiated the creation of this group.  Randy has always practiced Buddhism in the Zen Tradition.  He says he doesn’t remember his first experience with Buddhism, but he had a story when I asked him the question.

He had a “very slight interest in Buddhism.”  Much like I did at the time.  Somebody gave him a Barnes and Noble gift card, so he went.  He said he “couldn’t part with the gift card.”  He’s “horrible with them.”  He finally ended up randomly picking a book off the shelf.  That book happened to be Zen Physics by David Darling and it got Randy interested in Zen Buddhism.  He met a couple of teachers on-line that helped him practice.  Practice in this sense seems to be synonymous with meditating.  Through the Internet Randy met his “master.”

                
                This led to a more significant interest and Randy became Yin De.  He went to a temple and received ordination to become a Buddhist monk.  At the time, his master told him to go back to Phoenix and start a group to teach Buddhism.  That was in 2001.  When he got back to Phoenix he didn’t follow his master’s recommendation for a long time.  He just continued with his “normal” life.

Currently that normal life consists of: managing two auto repair shops, attending Sunday Unitarian services with his wife, attending one of two daughter’s track meets and pursuing an online business administration degree from the University of Phoenix.  Randy spends the majority of his Tuesday nights hosting a “group sitting.”  He also has online students he helps with practice in Canada and South America.  In addition to these many roles he assumes, once a month Randy volunteers to teach meditation at a prison in North Phoenix. 

                Somewhere amidst all of these activities Randy and Carl met.  Practicing together they attracted other followers of the Buddha’s teaching.  Carl followed the Eight-fold Path since 1999.  Always interested in spirituality from his earliest memories he thought as a child he might grow up a pastor.  He got involved in drugs at an early age.  Married for 29 years, he met his wife in a fundamentalist “cult-type church.”  They married in the church before the congregation moved out of town and the leader received charges of child molestation before he ended up in prison.  Carl received baptism in that church. 

            
                Carl has been a carpenter for 15 years- a builder of triangles (i.e. trusses) he’ll say with a smile- and he’s involved in the Buddhist community around the Valley.  He takes part in many retreats consisting of meditation for a full day to 7 days.  He says the hardest part of a 7-day retreat is sitting.  Not only does he sit on Tuesday nights with Randy and the others, but Carl also attends services with another Buddhist group at the Haku un ji Zen Center in Tempe.  When asked, Carl says Haku un ji Zen Center feels like his home.  According to him, the services follow the same basic principles, but he participates in more chanting at the Haku un ji Zen Center.  Their focus on structure and tradition stand out as a contrast to the Arizona Zen Buddhist Society.

Carl and Randy don’t hesitate to call themselves Buddhist, but both would follow that up with something akin to, ‘it doesn’t really matter what you call yourself.’  Other members of the Zen Buddhist Society are not so definitive about their labels.  Pat joined the group 3 years ago.  Randy first introduced Pat to Zen Buddhism.  They met at Unitarian services in the building Randy borrows space he transforms into a Zendo every Tuesday night.  (A Zendo is a Buddhist space for meditation and services.)  Pat had no formal experience with Buddhism prior to joining the group.  Pat had a brief introduction while he attended college in a World Religion class, but other than that he had a general interest in the history of religions.  Pat went through refuge with Randy about a year ago and now considers himself a Buddhist.

                Pat, an Operations Engineer for U.S. Airways, grew up Catholic.  The teaching “didn’t seem to matter” to him.  He explains, “It didn’t ring true.  For some people it does and I think that’s good, but for me it never did.”  After meeting Randy in Unitarian services, Pat’s wife suggested one night he attend Randy’s group.  Pat and his wife, both raised Catholic, revisited that tradition with the convocation of their two children.  Even though he’s Buddhist, Pat- like Randy- attends the Unitarian services of the church they borrow with- and to support- his wife.  Pat doesn’t vest much of himself into seeing his children become Buddhist. 

If they want to follow the Eight-fold Path, that’s fine.  He doesn’t see them following his path though.  His son, as well as Randy’s daughter, has attempted to meditate with the group a couple of times.  It’s not them though and their parents do not appear to fret about this turn of events.    Pat concludes, “I’m not sure I could have sat still at sixteen either.”  For Pat, taking refuge in the Buddhist tradition symbolized a confirmation he would continue Zen.  He remarked that it made more sense then having a confirmation at twelve or fifteen simply to follow the wishes of his parents.

                Of the “core” members according to Randy, Norma was the last member of the group I had an opportunity to speak with in depth.  Norma doesn’t like labeling herself as anything other than a human being.  At a young age, her parents died.  She then found herself raised in a Benedictine convent.  She doesn’t say anything negative about her Benedictine experiences, but it didn’t seem to me there was much positive either.  However, that is my assumption and nothing she said specifically.  Norma makes a distinction with regard to Buddhism. 

I do not practice Buddhism– I practice meditation (Zazen), or as the Japanese would say, “Shikentaza” – just sitting.  It is the meditation that has helped to transform my perceptions not any dogma.  It is meditation that helps me to focus on the present moment – teaches me to let go of the past and not create scripts for the future.

            Norma has two daughters from a 20+ year marriage that ended in a rough divorce.  Around the age of retirement, she majored in English and Political Science in earlier years.  At one point in her life, she taught English in public schools.  Now, her daughters live in other states than Arizona and Zazen has caused a positive transformation in her thinking.  She says that her life is contracting socially and physically. 

            She no longer feels the need to accumulate.  Her living space decreases and she feels okay about the reduction.  Norma started practicing meditation 10 years ago at the suggestion of an Episcopalian priest.  She has attended group sittings with the Arizona Zen Buddhist Society for about one year.  Some of the other core members of this group include: Chris, Frank and Jim.  The remaining members of the group are more transient and therefore tougher to define. 

            According to Randy, as many as fifteen people have attended group sittings at one time.  A significant number of Arizona State University students drop in and disappear as they complete various programs of study.  Ten people were the most I witnessed at the Zendo.  People like Marcia, who engaged me in conversation after my first day participating in a group sitting.

Marcia started sitting with this sangha about a month before I arrived.  She told me that she would continue to sit with the group on Tuesday nights until the birth of her grandchild.  She practiced meditation weekly with the Arizona Zen Buddhist Center for about another month and then her grandchild must’ve been born because she didn’t show up anymore.  According to everyone I spoke with this is the nature of the group. 

    
            Take Jim for example, whom I never met.  He stopped regularly attending because he had to attend continuing education classes for his teaching certification.  Then there were the two ladies I saw once in eight weeks.  The only individuals in the Zendo during my stay to utilize chairs during the sitting, one also held the exclusive title for having her mobile phone ring three times during the group sitting.  Other faces came and went while I attended for two months.  In total, I would estimate, 20 to 30 people made contact with the Arizona Zen Buddhist Society on those Tuesday nights; but no more than ten at a time.

    
            People who come to this group arrive from many different backgrounds and roles.  Marcia seemed more solidly linked to the Unitarian Church than anything Buddhist, but of all the people I spoke with she seemed representative of the role of dogma within the group.  She said, it doesn’t matter which religion you call home.  We talked that night about the sangha and then followed that up with different theories of the world.  We shared our knowledge of “aliens as god” theories of which we’d read.  Overwhelmingly, the lack of dogma and expectation present in this group of individuals appears unique for a religious gathering.  Don’t be fooled though.  What this group does every Tuesday night has religious overtones. 

    
            Because they don’t have their own temple, Randy has gotten the permission of the Unitarian Church to use their space.  The grounds are bare and simple.  Two small buildings occupy about an acre or more of sparse desert landscaping.  Inside, the buildings remind me of middle school annexes used in place of building a new permanent structure.  Of utilitarian design, they also reminded me of territorial prisons with windows from the Old West.  The parking lot does not consume much space really and appears accustomed to being relatively empty during the week.  In order to prepare the room for sangha, Randy or Carl will arrive around 6:00 pm to move away a third of the simple, metal-framed chairs- that would be pews- across a creaky, thinly carpeted floor.

A square of black, square cushions replace the moveable pews and create the Zendo.  Each cushion gets partnered with a small, round pillow to sit on aiding in setting both knees on the ground while meditating.  Randy places the cushions in a particular way.  He has lines he has picked out in the carpet to keep the cushions even in a row.  The square is not complete when he finishes though.  On one side, furthest from the door, one cushion sits alone.  The master or teacher sits in this place.  Beside that cushion, on a simple wooden table left by the Unitarians, a Buddha statue finds its place.  In front of the Buddha, a small bowl of sand awaits burning incense for the sitting.

    
            To the left of the teacher’s cushion, a row of three cushions await additional participants.  Pat sits on this side, as does Carl and another gentleman.  I never confirmed this, but I believe that those people have taken refuge.  A refuge, according to Pat, fulfills a similar function as a Catholic confirmation.  To the left of this row is a space members use to enter the square and find a cushion.  To the left of the entrance, another row of three cushions rest and then the final side of the Zendo gets lined with four cushions.  An unstated hierarchy seems to exist within the seating arrangement, but I didn’t think to ask in the short amount of time I spent with my hosts. 

    
            On the Arizona Zen Buddhist Society’s website, they recommend that newcomers arrive at 6:45 pm.  Prior to people familiar with the sangha showing up, Randy or Carl take time to instruct the beginner in what essentially takes place over the next hour and a half.  They explain the 3 or 4 common positions used for meditation.  They also speak about different hand gestures used during the proceeding as well as the flow of events.

    
            At 7 pm, the practice begins with a series of bows to the center of the square rather than to any one individual.  The leader lights incense and places it in the bowl in front of the Buddha.  Then chanting follows for approximately ten minutes.  Four chants comprise the Sutra portion of the service.  The chants are primarily read in the Pali language, so they provide everyone with laminated cards to aid the newcomers as well as some of the veterans.  The Homage, Refuge, Precepts followed by the Heart Sutra comprises the four chants.

    
            Around 7:10, the leader will ring a bell and everyone meditates for 25 minutes.  When 25 minutes expires, the leader will ring the bell again.  This serves as a cue to open your eyes or come out of the meditative state.  Randy explained that he likes to give people a couple of minutes at this point in the service for the blood to rush back into extremities.  I appreciated, because I discovered my foot feels like a dead fish after 25 minutes of sitting cross-legged.  After about 30 seconds, the leader claps two wooden blocks together.

            Everyone stands and bows to the center of the square.  This leads into the walking meditation portion of the service.  Slowly- what might seem agonizingly slow to some- the group walks in a straight line around the inside of the square of cushions.  It takes about three minutes to walk about 30 feet.  You stop when you arrive back at your cushion and face your cushion with your back to the center of the square.  A bell rings.  Everyone bows to their cushion and retakes their seat.

    
            He gives a bit of time for people to get seated properly.  Then the bell rings again signifying the start of the next 25 minutes of meditation.  After those 25 minutes expires the leader rings the bell and tea is served.  Someone first goes around the square with a tray of cups and gives one to each member of the sangha.  As you take a cup you bow.  The server of tea follows the passer of cups.  The proper method for receiving tea is with the cup in one hand and the other hand lay out horizontally with the palm up.  When enough tea has poured, the recipient silently raises their hand toward the roof signaling the server to stop pouring.  You then bow to the server.  While tea service takes place, the leader begins the open forum portion of the service.  The open forum may consist of a recorded talk, a reading from a book or Q&A.

            At the end of the open forum, everyone is free to leave.  Most of the people in attendance stay to help Randy clean up the Unitarian service hall and put chairs back into place.

            One significant aspect of how the Arizona Zen Buddhist Society conducts their affairs appears in the lack of a strict hierarchy.  Randy and Carl alternated leading the service almost every week.  Another interesting quality of the group is their apparent lack of need to talk.  After visiting the service several times, the silence becomes an element of the service easily taken for granted.  I could literally hear other people swallowing while practicing meditation.

            The silence seems to extend even beyond the service itself though.  Some evenings a discussion would sprout between one or two people, but seldom did it seem necessary to verbally acknowledge one another.  In fact, my presence must have been a bit of an anomaly at best or a disturbance at worst.

            I tried to be respectful of everyone attending as much as possible, but I needed information.  I had to ask questions eventually, but at the same time I didn’t want to become a nuisance.  Most of my conversation came about from finding a particular person at the end of each service who didn’t seem in a hurry to leave.  In this method, I spoke with the five people that I did.

When asked to share some of their time, without an exception, each addressed me in an agreeable, open manner.  In this fashion, I took part in: helping to set up the Zendo one evening, serve the tea one evening and have coffee with a Buddhist another evening.  Their candor and willingness to allow me to take part caught me off guard, I suppose because they’re a quiet group.  I also assumed that they might find my desire to acquire information disrespectful or pathetic.  I never heard one word of judgment uttered.

Humor is not foreign to the Arizona Zen Buddhist Society.  Some of the humor even bordered on bad taste while being nonetheless funny in the context of our conversation.  No profanity seemed necessary or called for from anyone.  Inside the Zendo, silence allowed good practice.  Outside the Zendo, most of the members of the Arizona Zen Buddhist Society have little interaction with one another.  As Randy explained to me, Zen is an individual practice.  It is not about coming to the Zendo once a week and meditating.  It is about practicing what the Buddha did (i.e. meditation) daily by yourself.

            I only detected irritation slightly during my visit and I believe that I am at fault for those interactions.  During my first visit, I naively referred to Buddhism as a way of explaining what I hoped to understand and that elicited a derisive “-ism” remark from one of the attendees.  A conversation ensued in which I felt embarrassed for apparently having unknowingly caused offense.  No one revisited my apparent faux paux though as I stammered myself onto another topic.  In fact, Randy and Carl both remarked that it didn’t really matter what you called it.

            The things I discovered about Zen during my participation defy words.  I think I reached the meditative state for brief moments a couple of times, but then I might be delusional on that account.  25 minutes of silent meditation seems like a long time when you read it, but in practice 25 minutes goes by pretty quickly.  Controlling what Carl refers to as “monkey brain” is not easy.  Concentrating on now will constantly get interrupted by a random thought.  Fitting the service in the routine of a day can also be just as stressful as any one of my other appointments, but the silence pays dividends in peace of mind and the lifting of spirit.  I did find a sense of being a part of the group when I had a small mouth and big ears.

            It seems to me that Americans could receive significant benefits from Zen Buddhist practice.  A less stressful state of mind, combined with a non-pressured belonging to a spiritual community might change our future course away from dogmatic decisions determined in the past.  My experience suggests that at least some Zen centers can absorb all types of personalities and characters.  Areas of interest for more research on Zen Buddhism’s possible positive prescription for America might look into the nature of Zen Buddhist activism beyond the sangha.  Without dogma and expectation is it possible to influence the world?  Also of concern in some of the research being completed is an anxiety among some Buddhists of the Americanization of Buddhism.  What are the concerns and consequences living there?  What is at the heart of that struggle?  More surveys of American attitudes would also provide a more definitive feeling of how Americans feel about Buddhism in their own lives.

            If I didn’t gain anything more out of my experience, I shattered a misperception I carried into this assignment.  The cessation of desire does not have to mean giving up consumerism entirely.  The cessation of desire definitely does not seem to be incompatible with living in a house or owning a car.  The cessation of desire, as I now understand it, speaks to releasing expectations we build up for things to be other than they exist in the world.  It seems to me that the message I received from the Arizona Zen Buddhist Society is that through the practice of Zazen we can fight the build up of unrealistic expectations that clog our thinking and make us miserable.  Other than that, try to live a good life and be a good person.  As Randy told me, “everything else is optional.”

            That amounted to the only expectations expected of me in this group I could glean during my visit.  I don’t see how America couldn’t benefit from a lot more of those expectations.

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