My name is Zach Schlosser. I’m 24 years old, and a recent graduate of Brown University. Though I now live in Berkeley, California, I grew up in Euclid, Ohio, just east of Cleveland. Lake Erie was across the street from my house and I spent a great deal of time as a young child, and as a teenager, looking out over the horizon of the lake, either alone or with friends. I am exceedingly grateful that I had the opportunity to regularly look out over this vista provided by the lake, for it inspired my own spiritual search. The sense of breadth, vastness, and calm of the lake and its horizon became a motivating force in my life. In fact, although I would not have called my interest “spiritual” at the time, I began getting interested in spiritual development during the winter of my junior year in high school, while looking out over the lake. Each weekend, at night, my best friend and I would walk down to the lake, which was completely frozen over, huddle in a little cavern made by the piles of ice pushed on top of one another, and simply look out over the still, frozen blackness ahead of us, with Cleveland lighting up the sky to our left, and only infinite coastline to our right. Somehow the darkness and mystery of that setting, and that time in my life, incited some sense of internal questioning in me. This questioning was both profoundly provocative and profoundly frustrating. This was the dawn of my existential questioning.
From that time forward, this, and other good friends and I spent most of our time together having philosophical-type conversations about the meaning and purpose of life, who we are, how perception works, dreams, true love, the nature and purpose of music, academics, art, science, and religion, etc., etc. Yet, even after the best of these conversations I was left only feeling hungrier, more frustrated, but hungry for what I did not know. All I knew was that when I looked out over the lake at night, the whole world felt to me like one big, painful question mark.
I wrote my personal essay for my application to Brown University on how philosophy, religion, and physics all attempt to gain insight into the same thing: the fundamental nature of the universe, but use different methods, and that I wanted to study all three. Indeed, when I got to Brown my first semester I enrolled in four courses: Advanced Placement Calculus (Math), Honors Analytical Mechanics (Physics), Existentialism (Philosophy), and Great Mystical Traditions of Asia (Religious Studies). I continued down this multidisciplinary path studying the fundamental and the ultimate for less than a year, however. The despairing, heady futility I felt from the philosophy courses, and the cold, impersonal, inhuman impression I got from studying physics turned me off to their methods of investigating reality, although I continue to be interested in both of these fields. At the same time, my study of Buddhism, and my new practice of meditation provided an immense opportunity to dive into the great, painful Mystery that I had then been experiencing for about two years. And indeed I dove in, heart first.
I still clearly remember the first time I meditated. I was VERY uncomfortable for those 50 minutes. Yet, despite the physical pain, it was one of the most fascinating moments of my entire life. A whole landscape of experience unrolled itself out before me. I discovered that just like I can explore the textures and landscapes of my external perception (touch, sight, etc.) and of the conceptual-explanatory world (through science, philosophy, etc.), I could explore the rich, nuanced textures and dimension of mental experience, as well. My mind became a diamond-mine, full of unknown and unearthed treasures. It was beautiful to me, I kept telling people that I had discovered real magic. And, most importantly, although I had not found the answers to my existential or spiritual questions, I immediately knew that I had found the path to them.
I won’t go too much into the details of the next four years. Suffice it to say that I was hooked. Within six months of first learning to meditate, I was meditating for three hours, everyday. Nine days after returning home from my first year at college, feeling stagnant, I ran away to the woods in the Appalachian National Forest across the border in Pennsylvania to do a two-week, ten-hours per day, solitary meditation retreat. I was terrified. But through the rest of the summer, I felt at least willing to live at home, and I volunteered my time at a Senior Center, cleaning, delivering food, and leading seniors in body-based relaxation meditation techniques. They loved me! Over the years I went on more retreats and practiced seriously a number of different meditation styles: Korean Zen, body-scans, concentration meditations on the breath, the mind, and awareness itself, meditations to cultivate compassion, love, empathetic joy, and equanimity, meditations on death (a personal favorite), Theravada Insight meditation, and others. I traveled to India and Myanmar (Burma) to study and practice for four months. Most notable, perhaps, is a six-month solitary meditation retreat that I completed from February - August of 2009. I lived and meditated about 8 hours / day, everyday, in a backyard fort that a friend built for his children in Reno, Nevada.
I learned a great deal from this foray into meditation, about my mind, my suffering, and my relations to others. The clarity of my attention, the integrity of my intentions, and my willingness to take responsibility for my own and others’ suffering dramatically improved. I cannot say how great the benefit to me and others is that came of this, but it is significant.
While I was at Brown I learned a great deal intellectually, as well. I took classes in a dozen different departments on a great variety of subjects (my appreciation of knowledge and the intellect is broad). Some of these, like my independent courses on early Buddhist philosophy and contemporary philosophy of mysticism, were more than less related to my personal spiritual search. Others, seemingly less so. In fact, however, everything I studied was at once personal and “intellectual / professional.” I have never been able to separate the two. I wrote my honors thesis on the varieties of dukkha (“suffering”) in a 5th century Buddhist treatise, highlighting contradictory statements by its author as to what kinds ofdukkha can be eliminated, and to what extent. Extracurricularly, I continue to be interested in a variety of subjects including integral theory, ethics, the appropriate role of money in spiritual teaching and mentorship, best practices in spiritual methodology, and so on.
In the end, however, during the last phase of my career at Brown, I had to admit that even my adventures with meditation and scholarly study were not addressing the basic feelings and questions that motivated my search in the first place. My existential despair loomed large again, addressed but fundamentally unaffected by all the meditation practice I had done. Then, a housemate and I began working within a totally different framework of spiritual teaching, learning, and development. This school of thought and practice is called Waking Down in Mutuality, and it is with this community of teachers and peers that I currently find my spiritual home. By working with a senior teacher of that school of existential investigation I actually began getting insights into the fundamental nature of who and what I am. Mostly through talking, reading his writings, and participating in his transmission (Transmission), my own organic unfolding occurred rapidly.
And now, I’d like to offer my services as a mentor to anyone, teens and young adults especially, who find themselves in a situation similar to the one I found myself in when I was 17. Or, for those who have been involved in some form of spiritual process for a little while, I can offer a new, informed perspective, to shine some light on aspects that you may be overlooking, other ways forward, and whole new assumptions which can facilitate your continued investigation of All of who You Are, and help you develop activities and purpose, springing naturally from that.
But wait, you say, "your own search is over,” really?! Well, yes, if I’m honest. The basic questions about who I am have been addressed. The “outlines” are clear. A fundamental wellness, honesty, and intimacy with life has dawned and continues stably throughout my day, everyday, even in the darkest of dark places. But this does not mean that my development is done at all. I am challenged regularly, and there is much more to learn ahead. I continue to work with my teachers. But there is also a lot I can offer to others who are looking for someone with my experience to mentor them on their own journeys. I am here to help, please utilize the help. I certainly wish I had had this opportunity some years ago. If you would like to inquire further about the details of anything I’ve discussed here, including my own current edges and future goals and challenges, please contact me. I would be happy to have a discussion with you.
Print Version | Sitemap
A Deep Life
