Tania Turner

Koan

Maezumi Roshi (1931-1995) was a transformative figure in modern Zen, integrating teachings from both the Rinzai and Soto traditions. He bridged the gap between koan practice (Rinzai) and shikantaza (Soto), offering a comprehensive approach that helped popularise Zen in the West. His emphasis on direct transmission of experience brought Zen’s insights into contemporary life. He developed a koan system, passed down to his successors and eventually to my teacher, Genno Roshi, under whom I trained in koan study for many years.

A koan are encounters and exchanges, often between student and teacher that point the way , point to the nature of reality, to the ground of our being . Each exchange invites us to the koan of our own life, invite us to become who we are. They are a beneficial means to perceive and demonstrate our Buddhahood.

We often say that we are working on a Koan, what we find is, that we are worked on.

We take a koan with our whole body and mind. A leap into the Koan – turning the ancestor’s realisation into an intimate part of our own being.

Each Koan pointing to something important. They help us to see through delusion and taste the fundamental truth of our beingness.

The koans take on their own life, thoughts feelings, and associations come up – turning it around , upside down-seeing it from many different perspectives.

To start we may try to control it, figure it out with some kind of answer with our intellect- Instead surrender to the fundamental ground of not knowing- holding the Koan with openness, curiosity and patience….

However frequently it doesn’t feel that way at all. Often we a full spectrum of our own reactions and emotions- no insight-only a seemingly cement wall, seemingly impenetrable. Banging our head against it over and over. Making no sense to our rational mind, driving us bananas.

Frustration, anger, heartbreak, self-doubt, discouragement, self-criticism, defeat- intimacy with all this and more…

It doesn’t go through the head. We take it in with our whole body and mind. So trained are we in knowing or having to know, or I should know, that it can be tough not to know.

Koans bump, prod, poke us- They can stop us in or tracks, whilst beckoning us onward.

And it’s not just these ancient Koans of those who have pointed the way for us- we have life koans, current wordly puzzles, relationships, work difficulties. Our actual lived messy lives, illuminates openness, compassion and take us to who we really are.

All the ingredients of our life, heartbreak fury, joy, each moment there is an opportunity to enter a gateless gate of wakefulness, openness and love.

Clarifying itself right in the midst of its most knotty challenges and confusion.

Tania Turner

Cultivating Trust

When I first came to practice Zen meditation, I didn’t really know what I was looking for….just not this…I had a lot of questions, wondering, Is this all there is to life? There was a constant feeling that there must be more than what I was experiencing. I didn’t want things to be the way they were, and this created a lot of inner turmoil—suffering, really.

At first, sitting in silence with my thoughts felt impossible. The distractions in my mind were endless. My legs would go numb, and my thoughts would race, pulling me in a hundred different directions. At times, I found myself longing for the time keeper to ring the bell.

I was given a breath practice this gave me a point of focus, a simple anchor that helped build my concentration and calm my mind. I started to let what was arising be. I could soften my grip on the breath itself. I began to turn my awareness inward. I started to ask myself, Can I find where a thought begins or ends? What is the nature of these thoughts? Over time, I began to notice that the thoughts I identified with weren’t as solid as I once believed. They would arise and fade, like clouds passing through the sky, if left alone would ‘vanish like snowflakes on warm ground’.

Beneath, behind, beyond these thoughts, feelings, sensations that arise was a perception of space .Space, vast, boundless. It wasn’t a ‘thing’ I could hold onto, yet present.

Present awareness.

In the beginning, I didn’t have trust in myself, but I trusted my teacher. Her guidance and acceptance gave me great support, and knowing she had walked, and still walks ,this path helped me navigate my own doubts.

The sangha, the community of practitioners, a communal practice of individual deep inquiry, also played an essential role, knowing that we were all practicing together, supporting one another in our journeys. A sense of being held by this container, and together as this container. Trust grew through self-acceptance and by opening my heart/mind to the interconnectedness of all things. When we hide our difficulties, we create barriers that create a sense of separation with others. Taking refuge in the Sangha invited me to soften and let go of my defences, fostering connections and a deeper sense of understanding.  

Practicing with the sangha hasn’t always been smooth. Over the years, I’ve faced moments of disconnection and uncertainty, but even during those times, it has been a constant support. Life/practice isn’t linear; through life’s changes, relationship challenges, motherhood, career shifts it can be messy and imperfect.

My intention with Wholehearted Sangha’s is not just about growing the group, but creating a space where everyone feels safe to be and be supported in their journey. We endeavour to show up for each other with sincerity and authenticity and keep practicing together.  We all nurture the shared space, one body.