I have written about this before, about the morning on Maui that I woke up and went to the Rinzai Zen Mission for the first time. Chelsea Kinch had invited me and my friend Alicia. We didn’t have to go, but I am endlessly curious, and so we went. It was 7:30am. I had thirteen years sober that morning when we walked in and took our seats on the meditation cushions, the sound of the ocean an instant balm. I barely think about this morning thirteen years ago when I did not know that my life was going to change, but I knew that it had to. The moment Sen sat down I began to aggressively regret every morning on Maui that I had not been here for morning prayers and meditation, like I just realized I’d lost something, and frantically began to wonder where I’d left it. But I sat still and I listened to the ocean and I reminded myself to try to come back to just being here. We meditated and then Sen walked over to a white board with the phrase, One who achieved ultimate enlightenment is like water. Life flows endlessly, and he began to speak on this. By his second sentence I was all in. I can’t help it; I am an all in person. As he speaks, I manage to get myself out of the woods of all the mornings I missed, and into the bright and brilliant moment of NOW. I am so delighted to be here now with this group of mostly strangers, with Sen chanting, with Alicia and Chelsea beside me, lighting incense, praying, the ocean. I am so happy.

There are so many happys waiting for you that you don’t know about yet.

And when I say happy, I mean so many more moments of being alive. We are all so trained at waiting for the other shoe to drop. I’m not sure where that phrase came from, but I’m sorry for the person who had so many shoes dropping on them from the sky that they came up with this phrase! What we are not practiced at is waiting for the next moment of joy to arrive. You will love people you don’t know yet. You will see beauty in places you never saw beauty before. You will learn to love the bits of you you still hide in the spare rooms of your psyche. You will discover fruits you’ve never tasted. There is so much you don’t know yet, and that is excellent news. There is so much waiting for us, if we are open, and also if we leave the house.

I wonder what happens next starts now. Right now, in this moment, this brand new moment that you have not lived yet. Right now I am on a train to Rhode Island to see my baby cousins (they are adults, but they are my babies.) It is mother’s day, and I feel a bit tender, but who says tender is bad? Last night at a party I was overcome with so much sadness about the loss of my friend; I felt chubby and like I didn’t belong, and I wanted to cry and go home, but I wasn’t at that party for me, I was there so someone else knew how much I loved them. Now I am on this train being jostled about attempting to type and let go of everything that came before this moment, so that I can live with fresh eyes and a fresh heart. I am practicing letting go of my grip just a little bit and learning to live in this brand new now, where possibilities exist, where I exist, where the universe is right here with me holding my hand. This is a practice, and sometimes this muscle is strong and sometimes it’s not. Great. Exactly perfect. Life.

Back to Sen.

The more I sit with Sen in prayer and meditation, the more I devour his daily lessons online, I start to think that maybe Sen is an all in person too. I think he is all in on being alive, on being a human on the earth, on loving each other, and serving each other. He is a great reminder to me that my life is gift to the world, and I have a responsibility to you and to me to bloom.

Also he loves the beach and has great taste! I am beyond thrilled to present The Questions with Monk Sen.

Just Bloom anyway.

Expect Miracles.

I love you.

Painting by Mark Rothko

The Questions with Monk Sen

Kodai Haga / Name as Buddhist monk: Sen

Maui, Hawaii

Rinzai Zen Buddhist minister, calligraphy teacher

@hi.monksen

https://www.rinzai-maui.org/

Where were you raised?

I was raised in a small town of Gifu Prefecture, Japan. It’s a quiet, mountainous area surrounded by nature.

Has the landscape of that place influenced your work in any way?

Yes, very much. The stillness of the mountains and the rhythm of the seasons shaped how I understand silence, space, and simplicity. But even more than that, it was the people. My hometown is very small—everyone knows each other, and there is a natural sense of caring. If someone has extra vegetables, they don’t think twice; they simply share them with their neighbors. Growing up in that kind of environment, I didn’t learn “interconnection” as an idea—it was something I felt and lived every day. That quiet, unspoken support, that sense that we belong to one another, continues to shape who I am and the way I approach my practice and my work.

What book are you reading?

I often return to Buddhist texts rather than reading something just once. Lately, I’ve been revisiting teachings related to the Heart Sutra and early Buddhist discourses.

What was the last thing you fell in love with?

I’ve recently fallen in love with yoga—the way it brings a sense of simplicity and clarity to both body and mind.

How do you re-charge your creative battery?

I haven’t really thought about it as “recharging.” In Zen, there isn’t so much a separation between giving and receiving. I simply do what needs to be done—for the temple, for friends, for the community—without holding back. When I see someone’s genuine smile, in that moment, there is no “me” and “them.” That feeling itself is complete. So rather than trying to recharge, I return to the present moment and act wholeheartedly. Strangely, in forgetting myself and serving others, I find that nothing is lacking, and energy naturally arises.

What do you love most about yourself?

What I love most about myself is simply this life I’ve been given. Being born as the son of my parents. It feels very precious to me. Rather than loving a specific quality, I feel a deep appreciation for this life itself.

When and where were you happiest?

It’s hard to choose one moment, but I feel happiest when I’m in nature—by the ocean, a river, or in the mountains.

We have 24 hours in your city… what should we do?

Living in Maui, I naturally avoid crowds, so I begin my days before sunrise. There is something very peaceful about waking up early, when the island is still quiet. I often go straight into nature—surfing, taking a quiet walk by the ocean, or simply sitting and watching the light change. I try to live in rhythm with the early hours of the day: eating simple local food when cafés just open, reading, hiking or swimming during the day, and then practicing yoga in the evening. I eat a light dinner and go to bed early, usually around 9pm.

What do you most dislike?

Unnecessary noise—both external and internal.

What do you do for yourself when you’re having a hard day?

When I’m having a hard day, I return to the very basics—eating, sleeping, and resting the body. Then I come back to breathing and sitting, allowing things to settle without forcing any solution. I trust that, in time, energy will naturally rise again from within.

In Zazen, I focus on the tanden, the center of energy in the body. When attention settles there, I often feel something quietly rising and stabilizing from inside.

There is also a saying: “Even if we fall seven times, we simply get up eight.” For me, it is not about fixing everything immediately, but about gently returning—again and again—to presence.