Understanding Zen: The Journey of Letting Go of the Fear of Death

"What is Zen?" a young friend once asked. Another replied, "I cannot tell you what it is, but one thing is certain—if you understand Zen, you will no longer fear death." These words led the young physician Kusuda to visit Master Nan In. Through this encounter, we are invited to witness an inspiring journey of practice.

Why does understanding Zen remove the fear of death? When we truly understand Zen, our mind ceases to cling to life itself. Master Nan In taught Kusuda that caring for patients was his meditation. A person who understands Zen lives fully in the present moment, free from anxiety about the past or future. As Venerable Thich Chan Quang explains, their minds expand across both birth and death. They see all things as ordinary, whether living here or moving elsewhere, because they never lose that profound purity. Therefore, they have no fear of death. We, however, lack this encompassing stillness, which is why we are so afraid.

The fear of death arises from the worry of losing what we currently possess. But when the mind is settled, every change in life becomes a natural flow, and we feel no need to hold onto anything anymore.

Do not let sensual pleasures hide the danger. The Buddha told a parable of a man crossing a field who encountered a fierce tiger. He climbed down a cliff, grasping a vine root. Above him lurked the tiger; below waited another. Two mice, one white and one black—representing day and night—slowly gnawed at the vine of his life. Yet, even as death approached, he plucked a ripe strawberry and exclaimed, "Oh, how sweet this berry is!"

That berry represents the five desires of worldly life. We become absorbed in enjoyment, forgetting that the mice are gnawing at our lifespan hour by hour. Venerable Chan Quang observes deeply that suffering surrounds us completely, yet we only focus on sensual pleasure. This is the state of most people. Those who practice Zen remain awake to impermanence (anicca), ensuring they are not deceived by any sweet berry.

Effort and letting go are the arts of Zen. Master Ko Sen wrote the characters for "First Emperor" eighty-four times, only to be criticized by his student each time. It was only when his mind ceased to worry that he wrote a masterpiece in a single stroke. Venerable Chan Quang points out that before we can let go, we must first know how to try with all our might.

Those who come to Zen expecting immediate peace without struggle lack experience. First, there must be a deep yearning and restlessness. This includes the pain in the legs during sitting meditation while the mind remains chaotic. One must overcome these challenges through willpower. Then, when conditions ripen, the mind suddenly lets go of everything, and enlightenment dawns. We should not rush for results. Be patient like Kusuda, who pursued the koan of "Mu" for five and a half years before awakening. But when we finally let go, the mind becomes bright.

Do not speak much; simply practice. Professor Juin’s mother wrote to advise him: "Keep your mouth shut and stay silent in a remote temple on a lonely mountain. Dedicate all your time to meditative concentration." Venerable Chan Quang comments that only through this method can one attain true realization. Sometimes we love to talk about our understanding, yet practice little. As Master Soen taught, "Treat guests with the same attitude you have when alone. When alone, maintain the same attitude as if receiving guests." These principles help us live authentically, with discipline and ease.

Listen to the sound of one hand. Master Mokurai asked the boy Toyo, "You can hear the sound of two hands clapping. Now, show me the sound of one hand." Toyo tried every external sound—the lute, flowing water, wind, frogs—but none were correct. Finally, the boy turned inward and realized the sound of no-sound.

The sound of one hand is the quiet listening within the mind, undisturbed by external phenomena. Venerable Chan Quang reveals that those seeking Zen turn back to this inner stillness. Amidst the myriad sounds arising outside, we do not chase them because we dwell in our own peaceful mind. Do not run after the noise of the world. Return to listen to yourself. That is the gateway to Zen.

Begin today. Zen is not a privilege reserved for monks and nuns; it is for everyone who knows how to live with mindfulness. Start with simple acts: eat moderately, guard your speech, sit in meditation regularly, live naturally like a child, and be courageous like a hero.

When the nun Asun passed away, she sat amidst a fire. A monk shouted, "Sister, is it not hot there?" She replied, "Only a fool like you would be afraid of such a thing." Then she departed in perfect freedom. This was the fruit of a lifetime of practice. We are still young, and we still have time. Let each day pass in mindfulness, so that death becomes not a source of fear, but a peaceful transformation.