Zen is a paradigm for handling life

Zen, is a term derived from the Sanskrit Dhyana, is the subject of Zen Buddhism, and connotes a state of consciousness beyond description. Zen Buddhism provides a system of training of which the immediate object is the experience known as satori. Its ultimate object is enlightenment. The Zen training aims to relieve the inner tension produced by profound experience of the mind's duality. Until this problem is insufferably acute no approach to the Zen master will be profitable.

Zen is not a concept that can be described in words. Zen does not depend on words - it has to be experienced in order for us to 'understand'. We cannot intellectually grasp Zen because human intelligence and wisdom are too limited. There is no God, no heaven nor hell and no dogma in zen. Don't expect consistency out of a Zen master. The reason why zen de-emphasizes "the self" is to make you more empathetic as a person. A strong "self" translates to a big ego. Zen doesn't teach you to get rid of your feelings, it simply teaches you to deal with your feelings more effectively.

Zen teaches you to have a "clear mind", not to have "no mind". In Zen there is no distinction between the "higher" or "improved" self and the lower self. Zen practices are aimed at taking the rational and intellectual mind out of the mental loop, so that the student can become more aware and realize their own true-nature. Students of Zen aim to achieve enlightenment by the way they live, and by mental actions that approach the truth without philosophical thought or intellectual endeavor. Zen is concerned with things as they are, without trying to interpret them. Zen tries to free the mind from the slavery of words and the constriction of logic.

A true spiritual path does not tell people what to believe in; rather it shows them how to think; or, in the case of Zen - what not to think. Anyone who claims to know what Zen is, is a fraud. Nobody knows what Zen is. Zen emphasizes rigorous meditation-practice, insight into Buddha-nature, and the personal expression of this insight in daily life, especially for the benefit of others. As such, it deemphasizes mere knowledge of sutras and doctrine and favors direct understanding through zazen and interaction with an accomplished teacher.

To help people who like to one's own nature, Zen masters have designed many different methods. The four main ones of them are: counting your breaths out and in, following your breaths with your mind's eye, shikantaza (or just sitting in your whole awareness), and koans (A kōan, literally "public case", is a story or dialogue, describing an interaction between a Zen master and a student.)

The teaching system of Zen Buddhism is an integral part of the whole Mahayana Buddhism. Zen teachings have the same ultimate goal: to help anyone who likes to learn and practice what the Buddha taught: to become enlightened, liberate oneself from his suffering caused by his greed, anger, and ignorance and then if he likes, he can help others do the same thing.

Here are the Ten Principles of Zen: There are no specifically Zen scriptures, but the doctrinal background of the training is derived from the Perfection of Wisdom Scriptures and the principles of the Yogacara School. These doctrines include Sunyata, the Void of all 'things', Tathata, the 'suchness' or essential nature of each 'thing', and Mind-only, the source of all existence, as of each human mind.

The experience of satori cannot be defined, for it takes place beyond the limits of concept, and out of time, in a state of non-duality before the birth of One and Two. It manifests in sudden flashes of awareness which, on the return to the plane of duality, are found to be unmistakable, impersonal and incommunicable.

Yet though the experience is sudden, the preparation for it is long, hard and gradual. This process cannot be hurried, yet the pressure towards achievement must be unceasing. Satori cannot be achieved by the senses, the feelings or the process of thought. It can only be known through the faculty of the intuition, the power inherent in every mind of direct, immediate perception of Reality. No one knows that he is in this condition, for in satori there is no self to know. Satori is experienced in the course of daily life, though not necessarily in the present life. It is solely concerned with 'here', 'now' and 'this'. It appears as the 'No-middle' on the Middle Way between all conceivable opposites, for in the division of the opposites it has ceased to be.

There are degrees of enlightenment, in the depth, range and duration of the experience, but these terms have no meaning as limiting the experience itself. The results of satori are not immediately visible save to the eye of the master. But its unseen effect is to raise the spiritual condition of mankind. No Zen master teaches anything: there is nothing to teach, for each man is already enlightened. Yet there is a transmission of Zen.

It is said that a zen master has one, and only one aim in life - to live each moment fully including the moment of his death. This may be the ultimate form of self-fulfillment. Most people view self-fulfillment as resulting from some particular future achievement. This might be a college degree from a famous college, or making a million dollars, or finding the perfect man/woman or many other ideas. I met a elderly woman who said she refused to die until her granddaughter was married.

However, since you do not control the future, there is no way to guarantee that anything particular will (or will not) happen. So this way of fulfilling yourself is very risky and fraught with risks of disappointment and the lowered self-image that can accompany it. On your deathbed, if you are asked what kind of life you led and can answer that, although nothing is perfect, you believe you responded fairly relevantly most moments of your life, then nobody can complain. Not even you can criticize that. There may be nothing beyond that in practice.

Zen, and all other Buddhist traditions are ultimately nothing more than responding relevantly. Zen has no principle beyond doing each moment what needs to be done. This may be nothing. If this interests you, find a teacher, practice accurate meditation every day and spend time with like minded friends. We like to talk. A lot. Even when we are alone and quiet the rambling often continues. We might attempt to stop this mental rambling and find out that this is actually a hard thing to do. Even our 'quiet' moments with no thoughts, when we look with care, are not quiet. There are small notions, things we do not even consider thoughts, that float around.

Zen, literally meditation or jhana, is the opposite of this constant noise. It's the quiet that is present between the noise, that enables the noise to exist. We cannot call this mind, it is present when mind stops. I'll call this non-mind for now. Zen practice is what we often associate with the word Zen. Zen practice is a way of cutting away all that is not needed. To stop a large part of the mental noise. And more important, to create awareness of the mental noise that remains. The mind needs to make noise, it's function is to think. Without notions, without thinking, it's a useless thing. A mind not thinking has the same function as a rock. In Zen practice we see how the two, mind and non-mind, are combined. Someone might be required to sit still for a long period of time, sure the mind will stir up at some point. Or one is introduced to a Koan, a kind of question that is aimed at stirring up the mind.

And there you sit or walk, pondering what you are doing or trying to solve the Koan. You are using mind to reach non-mind. You create noise to experience silence. When I write this it seems easy to understand the mistake, yet in practice it's a lot harder. Yet this is exactly the aim of the practice: creating noise. Because at one point you will find out where the noise originates. And once you get to that point, the noise will stop natural.

You can compare it to reading this answer. While you read it, you are aware of the characters on your screen and their meaning. Yet when you look with attention, you see that the screen is mainly white. This is the place where the 'ink' of the characters is not present. There is far more white than black on the screen, yet we mainly perceive the black. Because to us the white has no meaning. Yet the white is a fundamental part of the writing. Without it, how could we read?

The point of Zen (meditation, the realisation of silence/the white on the screen) is to be able to go beyond Zen. And to do this we need to understand the nature of both the silence/white as well as the sound/black. When we want silence while there is noise, we should not force the silence. We should just stop talking. If we want white instead of black, stop typing. Sometimes we need to talk or write, sometimes we need to remain silent. When the time is right we breath in, when the time is right we breath out. Otherwise it would be very stressful. And when the time is right we stop breathing. Everything has an end, just like this answer. I'm not going to play the "undefinable" card, or what's the point. Cheers!