Discourses from the Typhoon’s Eye №29 — The World Is Already Chanting

Few topics generate as much discussion among meditators as the question of sound.

Should zazen be practiced in complete silence? Is it helpful to listen to chants, music, white noise, singing bowls, or nature recordings? Do these support practice, or do they become distractions?

The question seems simple, yet it points toward something deeper: not what sounds are present, but how we relate to them.

Student:

Is it good or bad to play chants, music, or something like white noise during zazen?

Why or why not?

Teacher:

Ah, a question that has launched a thousand forum debates.

Should one sit in silence? With chants? With music? With white noise? With singing bowls? With recordings of a whale achieving enlightenment while a bowl of petunias thinks, “Oh no, not again?” 🤭

Let us consider this carefully.

First off, none of these things are inherently good or bad.

The real questions are:

Why is one using them? What effect are they having on one’s practice?

In traditional shikantaza and silent illumination, we generally sit with whatever sounds are already present.

Birds. Wind. Traffic. A barking dog. A neighbor who has apparently decided to renovate their house using only a hammer.

These sounds are not interruptions. They are part of reality just as it is. And our practice is to sit with things as they are, rather than constructing a special environment in which to meditate.

This is one reason Zen traditionally emphasizes silence.

Not because silence is holy, or because noise is impure. It’s because silence removes one more thing for the mind to cling to.

Music influences mood. Chants influence mood. White noise influences mood. Even pleasant sounds can become another object of attachment.

Suppose you always meditate with beautiful flute music playing softly in the background.

Soon enough, the mind learns, “Meditation means flute music.”

Then, as you sit in an airport one day, or while you’re at work, or in a noisy house… Suddenly, your peace disappears because the conditions you relied upon have disappeared.

That is not freedom. That is dependency.

Now, this does not mean such things are useless. Quite the opposite, in fact.

Music can calm the nervous system. White noise can help block genuinely distracting sounds. Chants can cultivate devotion, concentration, gratitude, or a sense of connection.

There is nothing wrong with any of that.

The question is whether you are using them as tools or as crutches.

Imagine training to walk. A walking stick can be useful, but if after twenty years you still cannot take a few steps without it, something has gone wrong.

Likewise, if your practice only works when the incense is perfect, the playlist is perfect, the room is perfect, and the atmosphere is perfect, etc., then perhaps you are practicing the conditions rather than the Dharma.

For shikantaza specifically, I would generally suggest sitting with ordinary reality whenever possible.

Let sounds come and go naturally. Do not seek silence. Do not seek noise. Do not seek a special state.

Just sit.

Of course, there are practical exceptions.

If your neighbor is operating a jackhammer. If construction is occurring outside your window. If the environment is unusually disruptive.

A fan, white noise, or earplugs may be entirely reasonable. After all, Zen is not a contest to see who can endure the most annoyance.

As for chants, they occupy a somewhat different place. Traditionally, chanting is not usually considered the same practice as zazen.

Chanting is chanting. Zazen is zazen. Both can be valuable.

But if you are listening to chants while doing shikantaza, your attention is naturally being drawn toward the chant. This subtly changes the practice. At that point, you have shifted from “just sitting” into some form of concentration, contemplation, devotional practice, or simply listening meditation.

None of this is inferior. It’s simply a different practice from what Zen typically means by shikantaza.

Think of it this way.

If you sit while listening to a Dharma talk, you are no longer doing shikantaza. You are listening to a Dharma talk. If you sit while reciting a mantra, you are doing mantra practice. If you sit while visualizing a Buddha, you are doing visualization practice. If you sit while listening attentively to chants, you are engaging in a chant-based practice.

Perfectly fine. Just different.

Now there is a subtle point worth noticing.

Suppose chants are playing somewhere in the distance… Perhaps another room. Perhaps a nearby temple.

If you are not focusing on them, following them, or using them as an object, then they are simply another sound.

No different from rain. No different from birds. No different from the wind moving through bamboo.

In that case, you are still doing shikantaza.

The difference is not the existence of the sound. The difference is your relationship to it.

This is why Zen can sometimes seem slippery.

The same chant can function as an object of concentration, a support for devotion, a distraction, a background sound, or simply another passing phenomenon.

It all depends on how the mind meets it.

Historically, Zen monasteries contained plenty of chanting, but the chanting and zazen were usually distinct activities.

First the community chants sutras. Then they just sit. Then they work. Then they eat.

Each activity is complete in itself.

The tendency of modern practitioners is to often blend everything together:

a little music, a little chanting, a little breathwork, a little visualization, a little psychology, a little yoga, a little crystal energy,

until nobody remembers what practice they are actually doing.

If someone asked me, “What is it called when I sit quietly while listening to chants?” I would probably answer, “Listening to chants while sitting quietly.” Ha!

So my general advice is simple:

If you want to listen to chants, listen to chants. If you want to listen to music, listen to music. If you want to sit zazen, sit zazen. Try not to mix too many ingredients into the same soup.

The birds do not sing to improve your meditation. The traffic does not roar to ruin it. The world is already chanting.

Just sit and listen.

The Dao is buried beneath enough labels already. You do not need another one… Unless, perhaps, you are trying to sell a retreat. Hahaha!

So what about you, fellow practitioners of the Way of Just Sitting? 😉

Do you prefer complete silence during zazen, or do you sometimes practice with chants, music, white noise, or other sounds? Have you noticed how different sounds affect your sitting, and what has that taught you about your relationship to them?

Feel free to share your experiences and thoughts in the comments. The conversation may help other practitioners who are also exploring the same questions.

Gasshō 😊🙏🪷