Ukulele Lady

Sometimes it is fun to dress up.  
I love my new plastic ukulele.
It's a Waterman made by Kala and really plays and stays in tune. It won't rust or warp and is small enough to take along. 

Autism and Zen: Interview with author Anlor Davin

While researching autism and zen practice I found a link to an amazing book and woman and autistic zen circle and practice.

The book is Being Seen, and the woman Anlor Davin, and her story is worth reading and I recommend the book as a way of understanding more about autism and how a meditation practice can help with surviving in a noisy and chaotic world.

RAVEN: You said you do 2 hrs sitting a day. Is that all at once or separated, night, morning, when stressed?

ANLOR: First of all, nobody is behind you watching and counting how long you sit, it is totally your own business. I personally sit 2 hours first thing each morning as this is the time I feel best and less stressed. Please always remember that five minutes sitting by a beginner is easily the equal of any two hours by an experienced sitter. Without this sitting practice I could not function as well the rest of the day. In fact, the more I am stressed and tired after having gone outside during the day, the more difficult I find it to sit! I do most of my sitting first thing in the mornings, before I have eaten anything and done distracting things -like answering emails! Often I break that time down into two periods. The first period lasts usually between sixty and ninety minutes, depending on what needs to be done (for example prepare breakfast, do some exercise and yoga, even answer some Skype calls from my French family as it is the best times for us to talk due to the time zones). Sometimes I sit some more in the evenings, but I find that then I am unable to sit for as long as I do in the morning.

RAVEN: I have never sat Soto Zen. Could you describe the meditation techniques.

ANLOR: The meditation techniques that I, a California resident at the beginning of 2000, have observed or been told about is that no specific focus point is given while one sits zazen. Only the breath, always returning to awareness of the breath.

I –and we- sit zazen while turned toward a non-cluttered wall. The round black cushion one sits on(called a zafu) is black and so is the flat larger mat (zabuton) on which the round cushion is. Chairs are accepted but they are rare in a zen meditation hall. Zen meditation (zazen) is done in silence, very rarely will the leader say anything during zazen. The color black is most often seen in the priest robes. Whether in a chair or on the zafu cross-legged, the spine is erect, the hands are in the lap, the eyes are downcast.

After zazen there is either another period of zazen or other rituals, for example slow walking mediation (kinhin) in shorter periods, dharma talks, and services. And let’s not forget the time to eat, oryoki style, which is also performed in a silent “dance” whose goal, as always, is awareness.

RAVEN: Do you feel sitting Zen as a spiritual practice is different from purely secular meditation?

ANLOR: Yes I do. Zen is made of individuals sitting, both alone and together. The group is called a sangha. I find it of utmost importance to have a sangha and be with others at times. It nourishes and supports my practice at home and without that I would not have been able to sustain my practice, or I might have started to find ways to be distracted (in my experience, guided meditation can do that) and slumped in my posture. When I first started my zen practice 17 years ago there were monks who, by their living example, gave me faith that this practice had a positive effect; It is a zen friend who helped me find proper medical diagnosis of my autism, it is yet another two friends who advised me to start writing a book, and on and on.

RAVEN: Your Autsit retreats in Lake Tahoe sound wonderful. I even liked the social awareness learning that went on. And I do love wilderness. Could you add some comments about them?

ANLOR: On the downside though I have to say that as the organizers, my partner and I run into challenges. For example, we want to keep it affordable, but between the lodgings and the food costs it is not so easy to juggle. We often end up “paying for” it ourselves in one way or another, and we are not rich at all. Also, there is room for only seven people, it is a cabin after all, so as more and more want to participate the limited space becomes another problem.

In order to fill the need for more people and in a more convenient setting I have started to facilitate a monthly meditation group, held at Dominican University in San Rafael, California, for people on the autism and neurodiverse spectrum. See more information about it on my website http://autismtheory.org/Autsit/.

RAVEN: For those who haven't read your book could you talk a bit about how you started and the immediate and long term benefits?

ANLOR: My book is called Being Seen and more information about it can be found on my website, https://autizen.wordpress.com/author/anlordavin/. I like the short description a friend wrote about it: “Anlor Davin is an author, teacher, mother, French immigrant and a Zen student. She has recently published her book, Being Seen, a memoir about an autistic woman struggling not only to be seen but to be understood and respected. Today Anlor works daily to help people understand autism of the kind that she experiences, and to let people know the value of basic meditative practice in living, and thriving, in autism."

RAVEN: Do you sit with your eyes open or closed and do you feel that makes a difference?

ANLOR: I sit with my eyes downcast and very slightly opened, that’s is the form used in Soto zen. The few times I had my eyes open, like the first minute of a sitting period, I find that I do not “listen inside me” as well and I do not do it at any other times. However I constantly try to sit while I am waiting somewhere in public, and for that my preference seems to be to close my eyes shut…as if shutting them would take away the constantly changing noise! I have never been able to sit very long in such situations, but I have noticed that when the noise remains somewhat stable (for example once I am inside the plane) I have a better chance.

RAVEN: Did the lack of dogma help you to choose Zen?

ANLOR: Yes and no. Yes because I am a person who does not like any kind of external input, neither in guided meditation or in being asked to focus on something outside (for example an image). When I was a child I badly wanted to not talk as much as I did (I was hyperlexic, a condition often seen in autistic children, which felt to me like if I had diarrhea of the mouth).

No because I am not sure I had a choice when I found Zen: I feel extremely grateful to have stumbled upon this practice, which despite –and may be because- of its challenges seems to me the best shortcut to…let’s call it “contentment”.

How the Zendo Saved Our Lives

I have been finding that zen sitting quietly with what is (we never called it meditation because that word has so many other connotations) has gotten me through the last rough times I've been having with sensory and emotional issues. 

I decided to research this further, and would also like to hear from other Autistic meditators, whatever kind you do, and maybe write another book. I have also been researching how the brain reacts to mindfulness (although this is another word with too many definitions) meditation.

You can leave comments and I will try to respond and dialogue with you if you like.  I have an upcoming online interview I am working on and it will be my next blog post.

I decided to add the chapter I wrote in my own autobiography of how Zen sitting changed my and my son's lives and helped us to cope and become more centered.

How the Zendo Saved Our Lives

I’d joined the Nichiren Shoshu Buddhists right after high school, and had stayed closer to the Buddhist spiritual path and world view than any other. When I discovered (they tried to hide themselves) the Ring of Bone Zendo I was welcomed in regardless of race creed or sex. They didn’t even care if you practiced some other religion in your off time. And no one “normal” is desperate enough to tie their legs in knots and sit around in silence for long periods of time.

For Aspies it can be like coming home. First off, it is a group of people that get together on a regular basis and spend most, if not all, of that time NOT TALKING to each other. And during the long retreats we were even forbidden from making social gestures to each other. Oh bliss and thanksgiving. Rules that said “DON”T look any person in the eye. No talking. And the best part, don’t even talk to yourself. Just breathe, count, and try to answer (without words perhaps) senseless riddles. There is no visualization or mantras, in fact you keep your eyes open but lowered and unfocused. The idea is to be present and ok with what is, without having to change anything.

The teaching and monitoring of our “progress” was done in a separate hut, and was just between each practitioner and our roshi, or teacher. So no one knew what we talked or didn’t talk about or how far we were on our path. In fact, it is quite traditional and common just to sit and stare at

Roshi until one of the two bows, or yells, or leaves. Or just wiggles eyebrows. Roshi’s have a great sense of humor, if a bit unusual (quite Aspie-like).

Since everything was done in silence, the weekly sitting and longer retreats were carefully organized and scheduled so everything could go on with a minimum of talking. Each person was assigned a job at the beginning of the sesshin and the recipes and menus for the cooks were written out and planned in advance. Choppers chopped their assigned vegetables early in the morning and got the rest of the day off. Jobs were rotated for the regulars so we couldn’t complain (well, I did whine a bit). If you showed enough progress you could become a leader (they had meetings and talked the most). I was a leader at the Monday night sittings sometimes. I specialized as Ino, or chant leader. I loved the chants, and bringing us out of silence.

I also cherished the time away from my life and children. Learning to observe my thoughts and letting them go without judgment like bubbles or clouds in the sky was immensely valuable to me. Without even trying, my life became more fulfilling and meltdowns less frequent. When both my children were living at home they often criticized my abandoning them for spiritual enlightenment and coming home “spacey”. I wouldn’t be ready to deal with whatever disaster had happened or was happening.

After Astrid moved out, Eric became interested in finding inner peace and living life differently. One day he read Thich Naht Hahn’s book Being Peace that I owned, and had left laying around the house. Eric started asking me if he could go to the Zendo on Monday night with me. At first I thought he wanted to go because he was just learning how to drive and the three mile dirt road to the Zendo was one I would let him drive on. But when I told him I wouldn’t drive home (I was already next door to the Zendo) and get him, he started crying over the telephone and revealed that he’d read Being Peace and had started crying then, just thinking there were other people in the world that thought that way, of interdependence and lovingkindness, and non-violence.

I’ve mentioned the success of Eric’s Jr. High therapy which definitely shifted his world and made him a much easier person to be with. But the everyday stress of adolescence and high school took their toll. Already different, he entered high school as a “ridge kid”. The entire group of kids from his elementary school were ostracized from the beginning and forced to eat at their own separate table in the cafeteria. There weren’t enough kids of other racial backgrounds to discriminate against, so they had to go geographical. And economic level, we were poorer out there. He had episodes of suicidal thoughts perhaps more frequent than I knew.

He was still bullied (the boys were getting bigger and more violent now) but he still didn’t want to fight back. The Zendo gave him a model for a peaceful man. Eric became a regular with me at the Monday night sittings. For awhile we took an earlier Monday evening Yoga class that helped calm our minds, stretch our bodies, and have just enough time to get to the Zendo. The women in the yoga class loved his dedication and lanky body trying to stretch into the poses. He made friends here that would help him through the years. One of the women he met would hire him to help correct the homework in her remedial math classes in high school, and gave him rides home when he needed to stay after the bus left. With a 30 mile round trip down and up a canyon road to and from high school, this was quite a bonus. And an ally in the school.

Eric started sitting the weekend sesshins when he was 15. He was the youngest member to sit sesshin. He also started sleeping outside in a tent, and setting an alarm so he could wake early and sit before school started. One day I talked to Gary Snyder, famous poet and founder and neighbor of the Zendo, about Eric. He said if I lived in Japan I’d just send him down the road to the nearest Monastery. And I would have done it one or two years ago. Perfectly normal. That was a help.

In Eric’s junior year we were both having relationship problems and decided to apply as a team to run the Honolulu Zendo. This was fun to think about. I would have pulled Eric out of school and he could have used the break. The qualities we offered as a team would have made us good contenders for the job. At least that’s what we were told. But fear of change and fear of giving up the dysfunctional relationships kept us from formally applying. It was fun thinking about it.

Later when it became time for Eric to find his own home, and he didn’t know what to do or where to go, I sent him off to a five day sesshin, and when he got out he knew just what to do, and moved in with John Strapek, an ex-boyfriend (did I mention how he got along with my boyfriends only after we broke up). This was a wonderful decision for him, and let him live with adult male supervision, a lesbian couple next door to feed him, and John became a father figure in his life. John died just after Eric received his AS diagnosis.