The late Zen Master John “Daido” Loori authored a book titled The Zen of Creativity.
Daido was a highly acclaimed Roshi who over decades helped many students find their clear
life direction. He was also a very talented photographer. His works have been exhibited widely.
In the aforementioned book he talks in detail about beginning his study of photography with the
iconic 20th century photographer, Minor White.

Daido said that working with Minor White was “a doorway to serious and transformative spiritual
practice.” Minor never manipulated prints and yet as Daido explains “his images transcended
their subject.” After viewing a New York exhibit by Minor titled “The Sound of The One hand”
(Minor was also a dedicated zen practitioner), Daido was very impressed. So much so, that he
subsequently enrolled in a week long workshop that Minor was presenting the following month
in the woods in rural Connecticut. Daido was eager to explore Minor’s work which he observed
“pointed to a dynamic way of seeing, a new way of perceiving.”

Midway through the week, Minor assigned the participants for the following day to photograph
their essence. “Don’t photograph your personality. Try to go deep into the core of your being.
Photograph who you really are.”

Daido became deeply absorbed yet also puzzled by Minor’s “homework” assignment. However
much he contemplated the assignment, nothing of any substance appeared. “Photograph who
you really are.” What could Minor possibly mean by that? After pondering this for what seemed
like hours, Daido started sobbing uncontrollably without knowing why.

During his daily teaching lecture, Minor was quoted as saying, “The state of mind of a
photographer while creating is a blank…..but is a very active state of mind, a very receptive
state of mind, ready at an instant to grasp an image, yet with no image pre-formed in it at any
time.”

While Daido trusted Minor, he couldn’t understand what he was supposed to do to “let go.” He
continued to hear Minor’s voice in his head, “Go deep into the core of your being.”
Early the next morning, participants were instructed to enter the Connecticut woods alone one
by one and just remain open to the sights and sounds of their individual experience, no two or
more people were allowed to traverse together. The essence of Minor’s photography
assignment lie in silence, in stilling wandering thoughts, and allowing body, breath, and mind to
become one with the environment.

After some time wandering through the forest, Daido came across “an ancient hardwood with a
gnarled trunk.” He approached it, and as instructed by Minor bowed to the tree, set up his
camera and sat down waiting patiently to be acknowledged and welcomed by the hardwood into
the old tree’s home. He just sat there in the cold at times shivering. Time seemed to have
vanished. Judging by the sun’s position, he must have spent quite some time there just sitting.
He began to feel something deep inside begin to shift for him during that wait. Questions, not
about photography, but about his life melted away, leaving him “buoyant and joyful.” The light
from the afternoon sun was now gloriously highlighting the gnarly bark of the trunk exposing the
splendid character of this aged tree. His hand cupped the camera and with his index finger
poised gently on the shutter release a photograph was made. actually, he didn’t know if he had
even really taken a photograph as Daido later confessed, but at that point, it really didn’t matter.
Arriving back at camp he immediately went to see Minor who was sitting outside on the porch in
the early evening. He simply looked at Daido and said, “You had a good day, didn’t you?”
Later in life, Daido reflected on this as being one of his earliest zen experiences. “Minor guided
us to go beyond just seeing images. He was inviting us to feel, smell and taste them. He was
teaching us how to be photography.

This wonderful story is applicable not only to photography as well as other art forms, but is
salient for each and every moment we experience on this earth.

To emphasize this, I will end this week’s blog with a simple quote from another contemporary
Zen teacher, Sharon Salzberg who reminds us, “To pay attention is to love.”