All their lives people strive hard to find happiness and try to get it by exerting their effort in all the wrong places. Because they find it in the most common and unlikely of places, just when they believe they will find it. We can easily see how pointless such a struggle is among others, but hardly ever find that ourselves indulging in that delusion.
This tendency in zen practice can be understood well with the example of the stationary exercise bicycle. We keep on peddling with the belief that it will help us achieve something, but if we give it up, all we would do is perceive that we are peddling and may or may not take pleasure in that activity as it is. Similarly, abandoning the belief in Tao breathing could help us breathe in a natural manner.
The problem with the “Samurai breathing” is that it is actually a concept that only ends up interfering with the normal course. While we pin our minds to achieving this higher form of breathing, we are actually missing out on the open and free breathing of the Tao.
The moment we start obsessing about breathing in a particular kind of way, we even lose focus of what we are naturally doing. The breathing should lead the way for the mind and not the other way around. Otherwise, the mind and body will lose all the harmony that breathing normally offers.
This can be understood through an interesting zen anecdote. While he was still a student, Aitken Roshi asked his master Soen Roshi if he should use force while practicing zazen. Roshi replied that the answer lied to the one that satisfied Joshu’s query to Nansen in Case 19 of the Mumonkin.
Joshu had asked Nansen what Tao was. Nansen simply replied, “Tao is the ordinary mind”. Joshu further asked if you should direct yourself towards it. Nansen answered that the more you direct yourself towards it, the further apart it will move from you. A baffled Joshu then asked then how can anyone know about Tao.
Nansen then explained that Tao did not have anything to do with knowing or not knowing. Knowing was nothing but illusion and not knowing was merely blankness, a void. He changed Joshu by simply explaining that attaining the Tao of no doubt was like a vast and infinite boundlessness. How can there be right and wrong involved in it. This inspired Mumon to suggest that Joshu could only understand that after three decades of practicing Tao, even though he has become enlightened.
So what can we learn from it, even though not fully understand it? Should we direct our energies towards approaching Tao? Or should we remain passive about it. At least Nansen’s wisdom tells you to “go with the flow”. But this approach has actually become stereotypical of the zen followers for their laid back attitude. Besides, I can recall Aitken Roshi complaining about going with the flow and lack of action.
So what about the “Samurai breathing” then? Considering Nansen’s wisdom, it is completely contradictory to the going with the flow philosophy. This makes abandoning this sort of breathing to be more in coherence of the idea of free-flowing energy of Tao. So how should a practitioner approach the art, and breathing in particular?
The key to practicing Tao is not to have any approach in particular to breathing. The key is to maintain a sensitive balance without trying too hard or exerting a lot of force. Pretty much like holding a newborn child in your hand. Not holding too hard so as not to hurt him or her, but with just enough force to avoid dropping. However, let us not try too hard to not trying too hard.