Appreciating Mistakes

Dogen Zenji said shoshaku jushaku. Shaku generally means “mistake” or “wrong.” Shoshaku jushaku means to succeed wrong with wrong, or one continuous mistake . . . A Zen master’s life can be said to be shoshaku jushaku.

                                         Shunryu Suzuki, ZEN MIND, BEGINNERS MIND

I often paraphrase this to say that the spiritual path is one mistake after another. Or perhaps it would be more accurate to broaden this to say that human life is one mistake after another. No matter how good or pure or mindful we intend to be, we can never outrun our blindness. Greed, anger, and ignorance rise endlessly. Our righteousness is always, at least in part, self-righteousness designed to protect our position and avoid our full humanness.

While this sounds rather depressing, when we look more deeply, it can actually be quite liberating.

There is no life apart from reactivity. In fact, reactivity is part of the definition of life. We might even say that to exist is to react. Even a mighty mountain, while apparently standing immovable, is eventually washed to the sea by the rain that falls. The great earth continually reacts and responds to the gravitational pull of the sun. And the sun is held and dances in response to her sister stars in the Milky Way and beyond.

We are all pushed and pulled by everything else. We are all being worn away by the winds and rains of our lives. (Not to mention the needs and desires of the people we have been cooped up with for the last year COVID precautions.) To exist is to be in relationship to the world around us. We reach out our hand to touch a smooth stone and we are touched by that very same stone. Life and non-life appear together. All life is supported and sustained by all life.

So what is this nonsense about mistakes? What is a mistake? ? Is it something I do that has consequences beyond my intention? If this is the case, then everything is a mistake. Every single action I take has implications that only unfold after my action and can never be known. Is a mistake something that harms others or doesn’t turn out how we intended? In this case too, all our actions must be included.

Of course, all our actions differ in their impact on those around us. Sometimes we do things that are clearly selfish, mean-spirited, and hurt others (and ourselves). Sometimes our actions seem beneficial and supportive to the life around us. We all should aspire to the latter and avoid the former. But this is impossible.

We can never know what comes from what we do. We must assume that any story we tell about who we are and what we are doing is inaccurate, biased, and limited. I might take an action motivated by kindness and generosity and only later discover that my actions created problems that perhaps even made this situation worse—or they may have helped the immediate situation but had a negative impact on some other situation I wasn’t even considering.

Only in acknowledging our incomplete awareness and the impossibility of moral purity, can we honestly commit ourselves to lives of kindness and compassion. We vow to do the best we can to keep our hearts open and to see as far as we can into our interconnection with all beings and with the planet. We examine our motives and stay alert to our bias toward self-righteousness. We practice listening to perspectives and positions that disturb us so as to learn what we do not yet understand. We act with as much integrity and conviction as we can muster.

Then we accept the consequences, both intended and unintended. We learn as we go. We practice apologizing. And we go on.

(Excerpted from forthcoming book Wandering Close to Home: A Year of Zen Reflections, Consolations, and Reveries. September 1, 2024.)