Zen and the art of writing about it

Who the hell am I to speak of zen?

I'm often asked to speak or write about it, to tell about my own experiences, to give explanations or clarifications. But just as I started writing the second part of a series of very short articles on zen I've promised to do, this thought crossed my mind.

See, writing about zen can be a delicate matter. I'm writing about zen from two different perspectives: a scholarly one and a social one. Just like the way I write about iai. I can tell you facts about both, cultural stuff, history, how the japanese system works and so on. And I can (and have) written about my experiences in the social circles associated to both - the zazenkai, our dojo in Yokohama and the different enbu.

Sometimes, on the rare moments when I'm too tired to think straight about the dubious wisdom of publishing such stuff online, I've even offered some personal thoughts on both my zen practise, just I've done on the practise done in sensei's dojo.

But can I say I understand what zen is all about? What's is the point of it? Why did I drag myself to the temple to stare at the wall for long minutes, sitting in a dimly lit hondô with others engaged in the same activity? Why did I return after all those self-questioning moments of "is my life really THIS boring that I can't come up with anything else to do on a wednesday night"?

So, just to underline the obvious, I'm by no means an expert in zen. I'm just hooked, just an addict. Maybe the wisest road would be to shut up and just practise - but then again, as long as there is no better place where I can tell people to go...

Just take my ramblings for what they are - random jottings and essays in idleness.