Kusen by Richard Reishin Collins
New Orleans Zen Temple
12 October 2025
You have all seen depictions of the Buddha in zazen, with his hands in the meditation mudra, as yours are now. I am sure you have also seen depictions of the Buddha with one hand raised in the mudra of reassurance or “no fear.” There is another important depiction of the Buddha with his right hand touching the ground called the bhumisparsha, or “earth-touching” mudra.
Buddhist mythology elaborates on this gesture to explain that this is his call to the Earth goddess to witness his triumph over the temptations of Mara and to verify his enlightenment at Bodhgaya. (As though the Buddha needed such certification!) One of the Japanese names for this mudra, referencing this story, is gōma-in (降魔印), or the “demon-subduing” mudra.
But do we really need the mythological narrative to explain what is obvious? Aren’t the Buddha’s fingers touching the earth at least as obvious as the finger pointing at the moon?
Pretty tale though the story of Mara and the Earth goddess is, the Buddha’s gesture is already clear and sufficient: his obvious and unmistakable way of telling us to keep grounded even as we seek spiritual enlightenment. After all, the most tempting of Mara’s delusions might be the lure of spiritual enlightenment itself.
This is why I prefer the more straightforward Japanese name for the gesture, shokuchi-in (触地印), simply “earth-touching.”
For Zen students, this mudra serves as a reminder that like rivers and oceans, we sit on the earth; like mountains and forests, we walk on the earth; like everything that arises from emptiness, we are earth. We are earth-bound creatures, even as our head touches the sky. This is zazen. In the posture of seated concentration, shikantaza, we become the living conduit between heaven and earth, between emptiness and form, between shiki and ku. We become buddha.
Deshimaru gives us a similar teaching about raihai (礼 拝), the ceremony that honors our connection to the earth with prostrations, laying our bodies on the ground in gratitude for and recognition of our extraordinary human existence, and for this extraordinary practice of zazen, where we are given the opportunity to defeat delusion (Mara) and escape suffering (samsara). This ceremony of touching the earth, says Deshimaru, completes zazen.
The word sesshin means, as you know, “to touch the mind (or heart).” We come to sesshin and through intensive practice with others we become intimate with the heart/mind (shin). In the beginning of our practice we tend to take this intimacy in a very limited way, as touching our own mind. This is the necessary first step, yes. But once we have become more intimate with our own mind, we can then become intimate with other minds, so that in our mature practice we touch not just our own mind but the mind of everyone who is practicing with us, and not just those practicing with us but, by extension, all beings, both sentient and insentient.
I once named one of our sesshin the “ses-sangha” to emphasize this larger contact with the others with whom we practice, not just those in this room, but all those in the Deshimaru sanghas, and not just those in the Deshimaru sanghas, but all those who have entered the stream. And not just those who have entered the stream of Zen practice, but all those capable of entering the stream of Buddhism. In other words, again, all beings.
Whenever I come to New Orleans from the mountains of Tennessee, I am reminded of the importance of keeping in contact with each other. Contact does not need to be constant, but it should be often enough to keep us awake and on the path. This may be daily or weekly, as in the local dojo or temple, or periodically as with our quarterly zazenkai and sesshin. Or it might be after much longer periods. The amount of time is not important. I can’t tell you how many times a former student has reached out to me after five, ten, or twenty years to say something like, “Now I understand what you meant when you said ‘Don’t move!’”
How, then, do we keep in touch when we are physically so far away? You know you can always reach out to me by text or email with your questions and comments about texts or practice. Since I have no curriculum for you, you must create your own curriculum, your own practice regimen. Since I have no exams for you, you must create your own exams. Zen practice is not like a college major: there are no set requirements spelled out for you in advance; you must spell them out for yourself. This is an independent study course. I am here to help you, but I cannot map your path. Only you can do that.
Just know that when you do zazen, you are already keeping in contact. When we keep in touch with ourselves, we keep in touch with each other. When we keep in touch with what is important, we keep in touch with the earth.
Whenever you do zazen, remember: you are doing zazen with me. Wherever you are doing zazen, you are doing zazen with everyone in this room. You are doing zazen with Robert Livingston, whose head presses the sky, with Deshimaru and Dogen and Daruma. You are doing zazen with the Buddha, whose fingers are touching the earth.
Smithsonian, 19th century