There’s an old record in Zen literature of an interchange between a monk and his teacher, Tozan. Back then, monasteries were unheated and poorly insulated, and the monks had few warm clothes. Winters were long and punishing. Summers posed their own challenges. So this monk asked Tozan, “Cold and heat descend upon us. How can we avoid them?”. Tozan said, “Why don’t you go where there is no cold or heat?”. The monk asked, “Where is the place where there is no cold or heat?”, and Tozan answered, “When cold, let the cold kill you. When hot, let the heat kill you”.
Even though the monk’s question was about cold and heat, it’s really broader than that: “We’re always coming up against one obstacle after another. How can we avoid them?” Maybe he had become a monk in the hope of learning some mental discipline that would put him out of the reach of difficulty, away from cold and heat. Tozan’s first answer must have perked his ears up: “Why don’t you go where there are no obstacles?”. “Where’s that?”. Tozan’s second answer must have dashed the monk’s hopes of escape: “When cold, let the cold kill you”. What did he mean by that?
Consider the nature of obstacles: They’re impediments that stand between where you are now and where you want to be. You’ve set a goal, imagining a “future you” that’s in some way better off than “present you”. But here’s this unpleasantness standing in the way. Our first instinct is to slay the obstacle, figuratively speaking. But, as the monk has discovered, another is right down the road. We love stories about heroes who vanquish obstacle after obstacle on the way to their goals, because they nourish our fantasies about getting to be that upgraded future you. “I can realize my dream, leaving a trail of slain obstacles in my wake”. That’s compelling imagery. How many of our favorite stories have that theme?
But Tozan suggests another way. He suggests that the “obstacles” aren’t obstacles in themselves. They become obstacles by virtue of this little mental game we play, where we separate ourselves from our present circumstances and project that self out into the future. That self that exists apart from present circumstances is just an idea. There’s no such thing. With the idea of such a self, obstacles appear, They go together. This raises an interesting possibility.
What if the “place where there is no heat or cold” is also the place where this idea of a self separate from circumstances has been dismissed? What if the way to vanquish the obstacle, this unpleasant circumstance, is to stop seeing it as something separate from you, standing in your way? To do that would mean to radically shift your understanding of who you are, and the nature of goals. You might well find that your idea of self doesn’t survive that process. And neither will the obstacle.