Chapter 3: Sitting Still for a Few Minutes

Five Quiet Minutes After the Door Closes

Fiona is forty-five and raises two children on her own while working as a bookkeeper for several small shops. Her mornings are a whirl: breakfast, lost shoes, packed lunches, a forgotten form that needs signing, a last-minute search for a library book. At ten past eight, the children run out of the door to catch the school bus, and the house falls suddenly silent.

For years, Fiona has filled that silence instantly. She switches on the radio, checks her messages, starts the washing machine and opens her laptop, all within a minute. A few months ago, she tried a meditation programme on her phone, but after a week she gave up. The voice was soothing, but she kept checking how much time was left, and she felt she was doing it wrong.

Then a neighbour, an older man who has practised Zen for many years, told her something that stayed with her. "You do not need a voice in your ear," he said. "You do not need to feel anything special. Just sit down, sit up straight, breathe and stay. Five minutes. When your mind runs off, bring it back. That is all."

So one morning, after the door closes, Fiona does not switch on the radio. She sits on a kitchen chair, feet flat on the floor, hands resting on her thighs, and sets a gentle timer for five minutes. The first minute is restless. Her mind lists everything she should be doing. Her nose itches. A car passes outside. She stays. By the third minute, something shifts. The kitchen seems larger. She hears the clock, the refrigerator humming, a bird somewhere outside. When the timer sounds, she is surprised. Five minutes have never felt so spacious.

What Zazen Is

Zazen, as we saw in the first chapter, simply means seated meditation. In Zen, it is the central practice, the foundation of everything else. Monks and nuns in Zen monasteries may sit for many hours a day, in periods of thirty or forty minutes, divided by short periods of walking. Lay practitioners often sit once or twice a day for shorter periods.

What do people actually do in zazen? In one sense, nothing at all. They sit still, in a stable posture, with their attention open and awake. Some practise with the breath, as we explored in the last chapter: counting, or following the breath in and out. Others practise what is sometimes called "just sitting", in Japanese shikantaza, a practice associated especially with Dōgen and the school that grew from his teaching. In just sitting, there is no special object of attention. The person simply sits, fully present, allowing sounds, sensations and thoughts to come and go without holding on to any of them.

Both ways have the same spirit. Zazen is not a way of thinking about something, solving a problem or reaching a special feeling. It is a way of being with what is here, completely and simply. This sounds easy, and it is easy to describe. To practise it, even for five minutes, is a different matter, as Fiona discovered.

One reason it can be surprisingly difficult is that we are not used to doing nothing. Most of our lives are filled with doing: working, talking, planning, consuming information. When we sit still with nothing to do, the mind often reacts like a restless child on a long journey. It complains, it fidgets, it invents things to worry about. Part of the practice is simply staying through that restlessness, without obeying it and without fighting it, until it begins to settle on its own.

Dōgen's Instructions, Retold

In 1227, after returning to Japan from several years of study in China, Dōgen wrote the short text mentioned in the last chapter, Fukanzazengi, "A Universal Recommendation for Seated Meditation". The word "universal" is important. Dōgen believed that zazen was not only for monks or for specially gifted people, but for anyone. His instructions are practical and clear, and they have guided people who practise zazen for nearly eight centuries. Here is my own plain retelling of their main points.

First, he says, find a quiet place. Eat and drink in moderation. Set aside your worldly affairs for the time of sitting. Do not think about good and bad, and do not judge right and wrong. Do not even aim at becoming enlightened. Simply sit.

Then he describes the posture. Place a thick mat on the floor and a round cushion on top of it. Sit on the cushion with your legs crossed, either in the full position, with each foot resting on the opposite thigh, or in the half position, with one foot resting on the opposite thigh. Wear clothing that is loose but tidy. Rest your hands in your lap, the left hand on top of the right palm, with the tips of the thumbs lightly touching each other.

Sit upright, he continues, leaning neither to the left nor to the right, neither forward nor backward. Your ears should be in line with your shoulders, and your nose in line with your navel. Rest your tongue against the roof of your mouth, and keep your lips and teeth closed. Keep your eyes open, and breathe gently through your nose.

Once you have settled into this posture, take one full breath and let it out completely, then sway your body gently from side to side, and come to rest. Then sit steadily, without moving. When you finish, Dōgen adds, rise slowly and calmly, not suddenly.

What is remarkable about these instructions is how physical they are. Dōgen says very little about what to do with the mind. Most of his attention goes to the body: how to sit, where to put the hands, how to hold the head, how to breathe, how to stand up afterwards. This reflects a deep insight of the Zen tradition. The body and the mind are not separate. When the body is upright, stable and still, the mind tends to follow. A slumped body often goes with a dull mind, and a tense body with an anxious one. By attending carefully to posture, we are already attending to the mind.

Sitting on a Chair Is Fine

Many people read instructions like Dōgen's and feel discouraged at once. The cross-legged positions he describes can be very difficult for people who did not grow up sitting on the floor, for older people, for people with knee, hip or back problems, and for many others. Some people imagine that if they cannot sit in a full cross-legged position, they cannot practise zazen at all.

This is not so. Most Zen communities today welcome people sitting on chairs or on low benches, and many experienced practitioners use them. What matters is not the exact shape of the legs but the qualities that Dōgen's posture creates: an upright, balanced spine, a stable base, relaxed shoulders, a steady head and a body that can stay still and comfortable for a while.

To sit on a chair, choose one with a firm, flat seat, not a soft armchair. Sit near the front edge, so that your back is not leaning against the chair back. Place your feet flat on the floor, about as wide apart as your hips, with your knees a little lower than your hips if possible. A small cushion on the seat can help with this. Let your spine rise gently upward, as if a thread were lifting the top of your head toward the ceiling. Let your shoulders drop and relax. Rest your hands in your lap in the traditional shape, or simply on your thighs.

If you have back pain or another condition that makes sitting upright without support difficult, it is perfectly fine to lean against the chair back, to use a cushion behind you or even to lie down. Zen teachers have sometimes said that the true posture of zazen is the posture of a wakeful mind. The body's shape supports that, but it should never become a source of strain or injury. Never force your legs into a position that hurts.

Eyes, Hands and Stillness

A few more details can help, especially in the beginning.

In Zen, the eyes are usually kept open, or half open, during zazen. This is different from some other meditation traditions, where the eyes are closed. The gaze rests softly on the floor, about a metre in front of you, without looking at anything in particular. Keeping the eyes open helps you stay awake and connected to the room around you, rather than drifting into dreams or sleep. However, if you find it easier at first to close your eyes, that is fine. You can try opening them later.

The hands, in the traditional shape described by Dōgen, form a soft oval in your lap, with the thumbs just touching. Many teachers suggest that the hands can act as a quiet mirror of the mind. If the thumbs press hard together, you may be tense. If they drift apart and the hands sag, you may be drowsy. Noticing the hands is a simple way of checking in with your state.

Stillness is an important part of zazen, but it is not meant to be rigid. If you are in real discomfort, it is fine to move, slowly and with attention. Many teachers suggest that, when you feel the urge to move because of a small itch or a mild ache, you first notice the urge and wait a few breaths. Often the itch fades on its own. Watching an urge arise and pass, without obeying it, is a small but valuable lesson. It shows us that not every urge needs to be followed.

Finally, there is the question of time. How long should you sit? For beginners, five minutes is a fine start. Ten is wonderful. Many people eventually sit for twenty or thirty minutes. But a short, regular sitting is far better than a long sitting now and then. It is better to sit for five minutes every day for a month than for an hour once and never again.

Why Stillness Helps

Why should sitting still for a few minutes make any difference to a busy mind? There are several ways to understand it.

The first is that stillness gives the mind a chance to settle, like the muddy water in the last chapter. When the body is constantly moving and the attention constantly switching, the mind is constantly stirred. When the body stops, the stirring slows. This does not happen instantly, and it does not always happen, but over time, many people notice that their minds become calmer during and after sitting.

The second is that stillness lets us see the mind more clearly. When we are busy, we hardly notice our thoughts, because we are acting on them all the time. When we sit still, we begin to see how many thoughts arise, how they pull at us, how they repeat themselves. This can be uncomfortable at first. But seeing the mind clearly is the beginning of being less ruled by it.

The third is that stillness teaches patience. In a world that rewards speed, sitting still for even five minutes can feel like a small rebellion. We learn that we can stay with boredom, restlessness and discomfort without running away. This ability turns out to be useful far beyond the meditation cushion: in a long queue, in a difficult conversation, while waiting for news.

And the fourth is that stillness can be a kind of rest that is different from sleep or entertainment. When we watch a programme or scroll on a phone, the mind is still being fed with new input. When we sleep, we lose awareness. Sitting still is a rest that is awake: the mind is present but not busy. Many people find this kind of rest deeply refreshing, in a way that is hard to describe until it has been tried.

Three Lives Sitting Still

Amadou is fifty-eight and drives a taxi. His days are long and noisy, full of traffic, horns and passengers' conversations. Between jobs, he used to fill every gap with the radio. Now, a few times a day, when he is parked and waiting for a booking, he switches off the engine and the radio, sits upright in the driver's seat with both hands resting on his thighs and simply sits for five minutes, eyes resting on a point on the dashboard. He tells his wife that these small sittings are like taking a cool drink on a hot day.

Klara is twenty-three and has had back problems since an accident as a teenager. She was interested in Zen but assumed she could never sit on a cushion. At a local meditation group, a teacher showed her how to sit on a chair with a small cushion behind her lower back and another under her feet. For Klara, being told that she could sit in this way, without any sense of doing it less well than the others, was a great relief. She now sits for fifteen minutes each evening and says that the stillness helps her feel more at home in a body she has often felt at war with.

Fiona, from the beginning of this chapter, keeps her five minutes after the children leave. Some mornings are restless, and her mind spends the whole time on her to-do list. Other mornings are surprisingly peaceful. She notices that on the days she sits, she tends to start work more calmly and to be less irritated when things go wrong. After two months, she adds a second short sitting in the evening, after the children are in bed. She still does not feel anything special during zazen. But she notices that her life feels a little less like a whirl.

Amadou, Klara and Fiona sit in a taxi, on a chair with cushions and at a kitchen table. None of them sits in the full cross-legged position Dōgen described. Yet each of them is practising zazen in its essential spirit: sitting upright and still, breathing naturally, staying present and coming back when the mind wanders.

A Place and a Time

Habits grow most easily when they have a place and a time. If you would like to make sitting a regular part of your life, it helps to choose both.

For a place, choose somewhere relatively quiet, where you are unlikely to be interrupted. It does not have to be special. A corner of a bedroom, a chair in the kitchen or a cushion by a window is enough. Some people like to keep the place simple and tidy, perhaps with a plant or a small object they find calming. Others prefer nothing at all. The important thing is that, over time, the place becomes associated with sitting, so that simply going there helps the mind begin to settle.

For a time, choose a moment that comes every day and that you can protect. For many people, early morning works well, before the day's demands begin. For others, like Fiona, a natural pause in the day, such as after the children leave or before dinner, is better. Some people sit just before bed. It does not matter much which time you choose. What matters is that it is the same time most days, so that sitting becomes part of the shape of your day rather than something you must decide to do each time.

You may also find it helpful to begin and end each sitting with a small gesture. In Zen temples, people often bow before sitting down and after standing up. This is a sign of respect for the practice and for the place. You do not need to bow if it does not feel right to you. But some simple gesture, such as placing your hands together for a moment or taking one deliberate breath, can mark the beginning and end of the sitting and help the mind recognize that something different is happening.

Some people also find it helpful to sit with others now and then. Many towns have small groups that meet to sit quietly together, often in a community room, a library or a temple. Sitting with others can make it easier to stay still for the whole period, because the shared silence supports everyone. It can also be a comfort to discover that other people's minds wander just as much as yours. If you join such a group, you do not have to adopt any belief. You can simply sit.

Practical Steps

First, choose your seat. Decide whether you will sit on a chair, a bench or a cushion. Choose whatever lets you sit upright, stable and comfortable for a few minutes without pain.

Second, choose a place and a time. Find a quiet spot and a regular time in your day, and protect them as much as you can.

Third, begin with five minutes. Set a gentle timer for five minutes, and sit. Do not worry about how it goes. Simply sit through the time, returning to the breath or to the posture whenever you notice your mind has wandered.

Fourth, attend to the body. At the start of each sitting, check your posture: feet or legs stable, spine upright, shoulders relaxed, head balanced, hands resting, eyes soft. Return to the body whenever you need an anchor.

Fifth, notice urges before obeying them. When you feel an urge to move, scratch, check the time or stop early, notice it and wait a few breaths before deciding. Often the urge passes. If you really need to move, move slowly and with attention.

Sixth, keep going for a month. Before deciding whether sitting is for you, try it almost every day for a month. Its effects are often quiet and slow, and they are easier to see over weeks than over days.

A Short Practice: Five Minutes of Just Sitting

This practice takes five minutes. It combines the posture we have described with a simple attitude of just sitting.

Sit on your chair or cushion in the posture that suits you. Take a moment to settle: feel your feet or legs in contact with the floor, feel your sitting bones on the seat and let your spine rise gently. Rest your hands in your lap. Let your gaze rest softly on the floor in front of you. Take one full breath and let it out completely. Sway gently from side to side two or three times, letting the swaying become smaller until you come to rest in the middle.

Now, simply sit. You do not need to count or focus on anything in particular. Be aware of your whole body sitting. Be aware of the breath moving by itself. Be aware of sounds coming and going in the room and outside. Be aware of thoughts appearing, too. Let all of it be there, without pushing anything away and without following anything.

When you notice that you have been carried off by a thought, perhaps a plan, a memory or a story, simply return to the feeling of your body sitting. You might feel the contact of your hands, or the weight of your body on the seat. Then open your awareness again to everything that is here.

When the timer sounds, do not jump up at once. Take a breath. Notice how you feel. Then move your hands and feet, and stand up slowly, as Dōgen advised. Carry the stillness gently into the next thing you do.

If just sitting feels too open or vague, especially at first, it is perfectly fine to return to counting your breaths. Many people move back and forth between the two practices, depending on the day.

Questions People Often Ask

"My legs go numb and my back aches. Am I doing it wrong?" Probably your posture needs adjusting, which is very common. Numbness often comes from pressure on the legs, so try a higher cushion, a bench or a chair. Back aches often come from slumping or from holding the back too stiffly, so try sitting closer to the front of the chair and letting the spine find its natural curves. Mild discomfort is normal at first, but sharp or lasting pain is a signal to change something. Zen is not about enduring pain.

"Is five minutes really enough to make any difference?" Many people are surprised to find that it is. Five minutes a day, done regularly, is enough to begin noticing the patterns of your mind and to taste the quiet that stillness can bring. It is also much easier to keep up than a long session. If five minutes feels easy after a few weeks, try ten. If it feels hard, stay with five. There is no competition.

"What should I do when I feel nothing special?" Keep sitting. In Zen, feeling nothing special is not a problem. Dōgen advised not to aim at any particular state, even enlightenment. The practice is simply to sit and be present. Some days you may feel peaceful, some days restless, some days bored. All of these are part of sitting. Over time, you may find that the ordinary, unspecial quality of sitting is itself its gift.

Chapter Summary

Zazen, seated meditation, is the central practice of Zen. It can be done by attending to the breath or by just sitting, aware of everything without holding on to anything. Its aim is not to think about something or reach a special state, but to be present.

Dōgen's Fukanzazengi, written in 1227, gives practical instructions: a quiet place, a stable seat, an upright posture with ears over shoulders and nose over navel, hands resting in the lap, eyes open, gentle breathing through the nose, one full breath and a gentle sway to begin, and a slow, calm rising at the end. Sitting on a chair is fine, as long as the spine is upright and the body comfortable.

Stillness helps the mind settle, lets us see our thoughts more clearly, teaches patience and offers a wakeful kind of rest. A regular place and time help the habit grow. In the next chapter, we look more closely at what happens in the mind during sitting, and at how to meet the endless stream of thoughts.