Zen Followership Program…

Zen Followership Program…

There is no leadership program in Zen. There is only a followership one: following one's true self. Again that following stops the moment, when we realise there is nothing to follow. Following and being followed is not one or not two.

That sounds weird until you see where it actually begins. It doesn't begin with vision, strategy, or mindset. It begins with the body and the breath. The old teachers called these the sanchō, the three adjustments of zazen. First comes chōshin, settling the body: a stable seat, a straight spine, grounded and at ease. Then comes chōsoku, letting the breath find its own natural rhythm. Only then does chōshin, the settling of the mind, arrive. It sounds the same as the first, but it is written with a different character. And it doesn't arrive because we worked on the mind directly. It arrives because the body and the breath have made room for it. Stillness and space open up by themselves.

The sanchō are not three techniques to master. They are a sequence of allowing. Body first. Breath second. Mind third. That order is the whole teaching. Try to settle the mind first and you usually just add tension to tension: more effort, more analysis, more self-monitoring. Most leadership development does exactly that. It starts at step three, trying to fix thinking with more thinking, more frameworks, more content, and then wonders why clarity feels manufactured. It is a little like rearranging furniture in a house with no foundation.

Last year, after the Zen in Action online program, I wanted to organise a 10 day Zen leadership program at the Zendo. I showed the marketing flier to Fr. AMA. He took the pencil, crossed it out, and said, "Just say a Zen meditation program for 10 days. Nothing else." He told me that in Zen schools in Japan, for the first six months, the teacher makes the student focus only on breathing. Only breathing. Nothing else. At the Zendo too, he made me sit in zazen and focus on breathing, and he made me do samu, before asking me to give introductory teishos for sesshins. I was in a hurry. He always slowed me down.

A knowledge dump, however sacred or ancient, doesn't help with the three adjustments. "Ettile pasu pullu thinnilla" is a popular Malayalam saying: the cow on a printed page does not eat grass. Zen has its own version. In the Gabyō (Painted Rice Cake) fascicle of the Shōbōgenzō, written in 1242, Dōgen starts from an old saying attributed to Xiangyan Zhixian: "A painted rice cake does not satisfy hunger." Xiangyan reached for it when his book learning failed him. Then Dōgen turns the saying around: "There is no remedy for satisfying hunger other than a painted rice cake." The words do feed you, but only when they are lived in the body rather than recited.

You can quote Dōgen perfectly and still be bracing your shoulders, holding your breath, performing calm. Borrowed insight easily becomes one more thing to perform or defend. In front of a teacher, and in front of a team, it shows at once. Here is a practical test: in a high stakes meeting, can you feel your feet, let the exhale finish, and not speak from the first reactive impulse? If not, no framework will save the moment. If yes, strategy has a foundation. This doesn't dismiss vision or strategy. It puts them second to embodiment. A settled mind can use frameworks. A scattered mind is used by them.

So following your true self isn't a vague ideal. It can be trained, and it is concrete. It is not following the ego's story, preferences, or brand. It is following what remains when body, breath, and mind are no longer at war. That self doesn't need to be promoted. It is already present. From it come the clarity, presence, and steadiness that everyone hopes leadership programs will produce. Leadership then becomes less a role and more an effect: steadiness, non-reactivity, the ability to be in a room without immediately needing to fill it.

Perhaps that is the real leadership lesson from the zafu and zabuton. Learn to follow first. Follow the body. Follow the breath. Follow the stillness that opens when you stop abandoning yourself. People don't follow titles, not in the deepest sense. They follow that steadiness, or they don't need to.

Sunlight Through the Gate: Bringing Emptiness to a Metric-Obsessed World…

Sunlight Through the Gate: Bringing Emptiness to a Metric-Obsessed World…

Achievement, metrics and make it count are the buzzwords of our world.

Sometime back, as a Six sigma lead black belt, when I had put in a quote which said “Everything that can be measured is of not value and everything that is of value cannot be measured”, I was met with ridicule and scorn across the room.  That was a long time back.. 20 years or so. Now as a Zen practitioner when I think about it I feel it was kind of prescient. May be I was into Zen in. my previous births too.

The Japanese art of doing nothing is best represented by concepts like Tayutau and Ma.

It is the concept of less is more. and more is less.

These distinct concepts represent the "ways of doing nothing" in Japanese culture in general and in Zen in particular.

 Tayutau (たゆたう). This term describes the act of drifting, swaying, or trembling like a boat on water or clouds in the sky.  It is much subtler than the Zen meditation of Shikantaza.

But, unlike traditional meditation or mindfulness, which involves focusing your breath or controlling your thoughts, tayutau is about letting go completely. You simply gaze at something with an ever-changing flow (like light reflecting on a river or leaves blowing in the wind) without trying to fix, solve, or judge your thoughts.  It allows thoughts to surface and drift away without anchoring your brain to them, enabling your mind to process and sort itself naturally. [

Ma (間) is the space between.

It's one of the most beautiful and untranslatable words in Japanese aesthetics . One can roughly translate it as "the space between," this concept applies to physical gaps, pauses in conversation, or moments of stillness in a day

The character itself shows it: a gate (門) with the sun (日) shining through the opening. Light coming through a gap. That's the image at its root — not the gate, but the space the gate frames.

Ma is the pause between two notes that lets the music breathe. The silence after a teacher speaks, in which understanding arises. The empty space in a sumi-e painting that the viewer's own awareness completes. The gap between two pillars that gives a room its character. The unhurried moment between exhalation and the next in-breath. It isn't emptiness as lack — it's emptiness as the condition for meaning. Remove the ma and the music becomes noise, the painting suffocates, the room loses its proportion.

When  Dogen writing his texts with deliberate lacunae — that was ma. When  the teacher who fills every silence robbing the student of the space where understanding can land — ma. The breath directed to the hara, the pause before the next koan, the gap between the voice that says "skip zazen" and the rising — all ma.

The Tao Te Ching points at the same truth from another direction: the wheel is made useful by the empty hub, the vessel by its hollow, the room by the space within its walls.

The thing has value, but the emptiness makes it usable.

I work with people on a long drawn programs and not short high energy ones , which leaves high and dry..  In nature too everything has its own rhythms.. and takes its own time… 2 minutes noodles and 30 sec insta reels may be the fashion of the day. But I doubt whether it leaves any lasting change leave alone a transformation in the viewer and reader. They are like sugar spikes for the dopamine system. But they miss out the universal principle. The Highter the initial energy , the faster it dissipates in this world of entropy.

Some time back, I was asked to design a short and sweet program on  what else spirituality. I did give it a long thought , as I was in dire need of Money… $, INR , Euro.. or even Crypto.  The advice was in this world, no one has the time and energy ( and focus) for a long drawn out program. And if one is in the business of transformation, one should cater to the needs of customers.

After due consideration, I realised,  as a connoisseur of good beer — and I say this with full sincerity — am  in the business of fermentation—which takes time, darkness, and stillness. Fermentation cannot be rushed; it relies on the Ma between the stirrings to let the cultures grow. Kokoro-Zen-Do in Action, which is an year long long  program are the koji spores of  real transformation. They are invisible, untraceable by standard dashboards, yet they fundamentally change the flavour of the entire personhood.

In this society of spectacle and current modern digital culture, everything is an "Event"—a launch, a reel, a metric spike. But Zen knows that the event is merely the crest of the wave; the process is the entire ocean.

Those immortal  Tao Te Ching lines we invoked before talks about the empty hub making the wheel useful—is the ultimate rebuttal to the metric-obsessed world. Metrics measure the hub (the tangible output). They cannot measure the emptiness (the clarity, the psychological flexibility and the trust) that makes the Cart move.

The Six Sigma room wanted to measure everything. It had no real ma, though they try to sneak it at the very end. May be in the form of a token mindfulness app or a five-minute breathing exercise tacked onto an agenda—a commodified, hollowed-out version of the real thing.  Twenty years later, I am still in that room — but now I bring the emptiness with me.

There is an old Zen saying: Before enlightenment, chop wood, carry water. After enlightenment, chop wood, carry water. To paraphrase that
Before Zen, measure, optimize, present. After Zen, measure, optimize, present—but with the gate open, and the sunlight coming through.

The Dance of Change: Lessons in Transformation, Resonance, and Compassion

The Dance of Change: Lessons in Transformation, Resonance, and Compassion

The first time I heard the phrase “Change Management,” I wasn’t in a lecture hall or reading a textbook. I was on the 23rd floor of the Renaissance Centre in Detroit, in 2004, looking out at the river below, surrounded by seventeen senior leaders from the tech world’s elite. I was there for the GM Round Table, representing Wipro as the most junior person in the room.

That moment was the beginning of a journey—one that would weave through corporate high-rises, soul-testing commutes, and the quiet of a Zen meditation hall. It was a journey that taught me change is not a process to be managed, but a dance to be learned—a subtle, living art built on resonance, trust, and compassion.

Beginnings: The Mask and the Scaffolding

I felt the weight of that room deeply. My boss, Geoff Phillips, saw my trepidation. He flew in and spent weekends drilling me in the art of consulting, teaching me to put on what I later called the “Monroe Mask”—that layer of outer confidence worn to cover the inner tremors.

Soon, I realized I wasn't the only one learning to wear a mask. Our client manager enrolled the entire team in a three-day crash course on Change and Transformation Management, led by Booz Allen & Hamilton. That was the first time I heard the term. Those three days were precious.

But in my usual, tenacious way, I couldn’t stop there. I began gathering books—an enormous collection on Change Management. From the British Council’s digital library, I painstakingly downloaded chapter by chapter from nearly fifty books. Over time, those lessons became the scaffolding of my professional life.

That scaffolding was tested to its limit during my KAUST assignment. For months, I endured a daily commute of 260 kilometers—130 km each way from Jeddah to Thuwal and back. The endless desert highway became a grinding ritual that left no space for life itself. It was this physical and mental exhaustion that finally forced my hand; I decided I had to step out of Wipro to reclaim my time and my well-being.

But then, grace intervened. My client, Carsten Svensson, upon hearing my decision, spoke directly to my bosses. He valued the work more than the policy, and carved out a direct contract. He ensured I had a Red Sea-facing apartment on campus, a monthly Emirates ticket home, and a generous raise.

Those two years gave me the freedom to fly away from the 9-to-5 rhythm. The tax-free money helped Thara and me settle all our loans, buy an apartment, and decide to live debt-free.

But this story was never about financial freedom. It was about the lessons I learned in Change Management—through books, through work, through the very grain of lived experience.

The Four Directions of Change

From Detroit to KAUST to Bangalore, the compass of change has revealed itself in four enduring lessons:

  1. Reactance – The Pushback Reflex
    Reactance is the invisible wall that rises when people feel their freedom is being curtailed. It calls to mind the wisdom of Lao Tzu:

“Water is the softest thing, yet it can penetrate mountains and earth. This shows clearly the principle of softness overcoming hardness.”

A consultant who barges in with “best practices” is the hard hammer; the wall only hardens in response. The art is to be like water—to invite rather than impose. Frame change as choice, not command. Create space for ownership, so resistance transforms into curiosity.

  1. Persuasion Radar – The Hidden Antennae
    Every individual and organization has a subtle radar scanning for manipulation. This truth is perfectly captured by an old Arabian proverb:

“He who has a hundred guests cannot seat them all at the same table, but he can offend them all with a single dish of hypocrisy.”

One insincere gesture is all it takes. Authenticity, therefore, is not a soft skill but a strategic imperative. Speak plainly, act transparently. Influence flows not from persuasion, but from resonance.

  1. Overton Window – The Horizon of Acceptability
    The Overton Window is the spectrum of ideas a community currently considers “thinkable.” It is a slow, patient process of expanding the light, much like the words of Martin Luther King, Jr.:

“Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that.”

You cannot force an unthinkable idea from outside the window; you can only illuminate it from within. Frame new ideas in familiar language. Stretch the window incrementally, so what was once unthinkable becomes inevitable.

  1. Context Matters – The Ecology of Change
    I never get tired of quoting Steve Donahue’s opening from Shifting Sands:
    “How big is the top of Mount Everest?”
    “About the size of a small kitchen table,” he responded.
    “That is amazing,” I said, “You know, when you cross the Sahara Desert, there is no way of knowing where the desert ends. There is no peak, no border, no sign that says, ‘You are Now leaving the Sahara Desert – Have a nice Day!’”

This is the essence of context. There is no universal map. Context is the soil. A banyan tree may scatter thousands of seeds, but it becomes another banyan only when a seed finds the right soil. A goose thrives in a pond; a camel in the desert. Listen to the land. Change is ecological, not mechanical.

The Unlearning: Compassion as the Ground

After I left Wipro, I stepped fully into managing the affairs of our Zen meditation center, Bodhi Sangha.

In my very first week, my teacher, Fr. AMA Samy, gave me a single lesson: “Be compassionate, regardless of the situation. Don’t bring your corporate hat here.”

And then he quoted a Sanskrit sloka:
Bryat satyam, priyam bryat, na bryat apriya satyam.
(Speak the truth, speak it sweetly, but do not speak unpleasant truth.)

Here, I had no title, no salary leverage. My only tools were compassion, trust, and presence. This was the most profound validation of the principles I had studied. The compass was true, even here—especially here.

The Nuance: Honesty is Not Transparency

This journey taught me another vital lesson: Honesty and integrity are the essential blocks of transformation, but honesty is not the same as transparency.

You must be honest in all you convey. Your word must be true. But to believe you must reveal every card in your hand, in a compulsive rush for total transparency, is to invite disaster. It can overwhelm, create unnecessary panic, or be weaponized against the very change you seek.

Nature understands this deeply. Human beings and animals have skin. Trees have bark. These are not walls of deception; they are vital boundaries that protect the delicate life within, allowing for selective exchange with the outside world. They are membranes of wisdom.

You can speak your truth with integrity without revealing the raw, unfinished, and vulnerable core all at once. Timing, dosage, and discernment are everything. This is the lesson from nature: be honest in your being, but wise in your revelation.

The Final Truth: Time is the Essence

And yet, all these principles rest upon one universal, non-negotiable truth: Time is the essence of all change.

We cannot alter this principle, regardless of the compulsions of Wall Street or Dalal Street. One cannot create a baby in two months by enlisting four mothers.

Nature achieves everything—without hurrying, without hastening. This brings to mind the timeless wisdom of Lao Tzu:

“He who stands on tiptoe doesn't stand firm.
He who rushes ahead doesn't go far...

If you want to accord with the Tao,
just do your job, then let go.”

The Dance Is the Path

So, this is my synthesis. My learning.

Change is not a formula to be memorized. It is a dance. A flight path constantly being reshaped by winds, horizons, and landscapes.

This philosophy redefines our role as that of a pilgrim—a seeker who walks alert to resistance, attuned to sincerity, patient with horizons, and humble before context.

In a world obsessed with speed and scale, this compass reminds me that true transformation is never about control.

It is always, and only, about resonance. And resonance requires the courage to be honest, the wisdom to be discerning, and the patience to listen to the ancient rhythms of nature itself.

 

On the Way of Fireflies and False Lights and Borrowed Brilliance

On the Way of Fireflies and False Lights and Borrowed Brilliance

Btw Nature as we call it is not all about serene views and instagram photo shoot opportunities... As every Rose comes its thorn, nature too comes with its own paradoxes..... After rainfall, especially regions like Tamil Nadu, it's common to witness swarms of winged insects. They are winged termites or ants... (they are not Fireflies) Attracted to artificial light, and die within hours.. gathering around artificial lights.. interesting thing is they are alwys swarm near to blue or white elctric lamps.. anot the yellowish ones. aFter swarming, they shed their wings and die quickly.. Naturalists say especially if they fail to. mate of find shelter.. And often in the mornigns yo see piles of dead insects near the map. By the fireflies are biolumiescent insects that emit light from their abdomen. And they are not attracted to artificial light in the same way. They are not known to swarm and die en masse around eletric lamps.

This natural paradox is a powerful metaphor for our own lives and careers. How often are we, like the insects, drawn to the "borrowed brilliance" of trendy ideologies, external validation, or the glamour of someone else's success? This mindless swarming is not true community, and such attraction rarely leads to meaningful union or purpose.

This challenge of navigating external noise is not new. Steve Jobs articulated it perfectly when he explained the core of Apple's marketing philosophy, saying:

"This is a very complicated world; it's a very noisy world. And we're not going to get a chance to get people to remember much about us. No company is. And so we have to be really clear on what we want them to know about us."

This is the corporate equivalent of the firefly's path. Jobs understood that the only way to cut through the "noisy world" was not to swarm towards the artificial lights of competitors or trends, but to be radically clear about your own core identity—to generate your own light from within.

May be that is why Buddhs said to us "appo deepo bhava" and. Krishamurti wrote "“It is only when you are a light to yourself that there is freedom.” The insects teach us: Not all light is guidance. Not all swarming is Sangha. Not all attraction leads to union.

Let us not be drawn to borrowed brilliance. Let us glow from within, like the firefly— not to dazzle, but to illuminate the path.

Manu, Rishi, Thara, Zen and Mastercard….

Manu, Rishi, Thara, Zen and Mastercard….

Yesterday was the day I had shared the news of home leaving to many.  Thara and Rishi had got a holiday due to a death of prominent politicians and Manu was at home for his vacation. My second son, Rishi suggested let us give a dinner at Paragon to Papa and we all ended up in Paragon @ Church Street for an early dinner.  He knew my favorite eating places in Blr are TRC and Paragon.

After placing order, as I was looking at Manu and Rishi’s face and listening to their discussion, what came to my mind was what Gibran wrote in The Prophet. I wonder, how many times I would have read that small book.  May be at least 100 times. Though I can type in most of the passages from my memory, let me quote from the text.

 On Children

And a woman who held a baby against her bosom said, Speak to us of Children.
     And he said:
     Your children are not your children.
     They are the sons and daughters of Life’s longing for itself.
     They come through you but not from you,
     And though they are with you yet they belong not to you.

     You may give them your love but not your thoughts,
     For they have their own thoughts.
     You may house their bodies but not their souls,
     For their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow, which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams.
     You may strive to be like them, but seek not to make them like you.
     For life goes not backward nor tarries with yesterday.
     You are the bows from which your children as living arrows are sent forth.
     The archer sees the mark upon the path of the infinite, and He bends you with His might that His arrows may go swift and far.
     Let your bending in the archer’s hand be for gladness;
     For even as He loves the arrow that flies, so He loves also the bow that is stable.

From The Prophet (Knopf, 1923). This poem is in the public domain.

 A long time back when Thara’s grand uncle, who was a very wealthy coffee planter in Wynad, had visited us in Bangalore.  He then suggested us to send our children to Rishi Valley School. He himself had his school education at Rishi Valley before Second world war and then went to UCLA for his graduation. When Thara had mentioned that will be too expensive, he did very generously offer that he will pay their fees.  It so seems, even after Thara completed her Engineering , he did offer to fund her higher education in USA. But her conservative father could not even imagine his daughter studying is such a faraway place. visited us in Bangalore.  Maybe I was fortunate  , Or I would not have met her and married her…   

We both moved to Kanakapura Road from BTM Layout, so that our children go to a Krishnamurti school.  When we went for Manu’s interview, (the school interviews parents and not children to ascertain their fitment to school’s purpose and culture), Dr. Satish Inamdar, who was then the Director of the school, told us, you got to let go your child, as a mother bird let her younger one fly away.  Your son may end up as a great artist or ordinary painter. In a way, he was advising us not to project our own life aspirations to our children.  It was quite a sage like, and he said it like a prophet.

 Much later, as Manu was considering his post school options, as a matter of a fact, he told me and Thara, “while I appreciate what you both are, I really don’t want to be like you.  I want to be rich, and I want to be an investment banker.”.  HE wanted to further pursue his education in financial engineering and currently enrolled in a Applied economics degree at JGU.  Last week, he taught me about Options and futures in such simple terms, I was all ears, and my heart was swelling with pride and admiration for him.

 And Rish is just on the opposite end of the spectrum. He draws and paints well and I was suggesting him to take up Fine arts. But his mind is so focused in Sports management, he even spent a few weeks at Rahul Dravid academy. He is the one of the foremost fan of Manchester United, wants to be in Sports Management.  His craze for ManU might have been started, after I got to him a few original football jerseys , while I was working in Gulf.  The first one was a ManU jersey.  . I jokingly told him that I will work hard to finance his MBA in Sports Mgmt., he will work for Liverpool Football Club instead of his dream job at Man United.  I was asking hm, how can a Liverpool fan, finance a potential employee of our rival Manchester United!!   I was urging him to switch sides.   He with a brave face, told me, Papa I don’t need your money, I will apply for a sports loan. But I am going to work for Manchester United.

 Food came and discussions topics too changed.

 While we were waiting for the bill, Thara shared a recent news story of Anada Krishnan, the Malaysian Tycoon who passed away just a few days ago. It so seems, his son left a $ 5 Billion inheritance to be a Zen monk in a monastery at the age of 18. Now he is an Abbot in that monastery.  When Rishi asked me, “Papa, aren’t you too leaving a billion dollar each, pointing to Manu and himself. “,

 I could just respond with a wry smile.

 I thought as I was getting up after paying the bill with my credit card, but did not say, “there are things money can’t buy, like Manu, Rishi  Thara and Zen.  For rest of the things there is Mastercard.”

 

The spoke of work in my wheel of life…

The spoke of work in my wheel of life…

(Picture courtesy: Team-BHP.com)

Sometimes, the metaphors that commonly used are an indicator on the conditioned and ingrained way of thinking.

The spoke in the wheel literally means, making it very difficult for someone to achieve something they had planned to do.  When we integrate work , wisely , as a spoke to the wheel of life , then the spoke of work starts working harmoniously with other spokes in the wheel of our life and ensures joy and peace of mind in our way of life. 

 I have two points of view regarding this.

 First about the term Work – Life balance.

 The term Work life balance triggers the image of a weight scale or balance with two trays which separates life from work.  Rather it is more helpful to imagine a wheel of life with multiple spokes.  Spokes of relationship – to self, dear and near, org and society, taking care of oneself (exercises for mind and body), recreation and entertainment, silent time, work etc.  Each spoke is as important as any other spoke, if we wish to keep the wheel of life rolling, without toppling to one side, on the Way of life.  The spokes are important so are the space between those spokes.  And each spoke is a relationship we have with one facet of our life.  All those spokes consist of what can be called living.  We cannot take living out of our life.  Likewise, you cannot take out of those spokes out of the wheel. (Though the concept of maglev was invented by a German engineer more than a century back.  )

 As Lao Tsu wrote

 “Thirty spokes share the wheel’s hub;

It is the center hole that makes it useful.

Shape the clay into a vessel;

It is the space within that makes it useful.

Cut doors and windows for a room;

It is the holes that make it useful.

There benefit from what is there;

Usefulness from what is not there.”

     Chapter 11 Tao Te Ching Lao Tsu (Translated by Gia-Fu Feng and Jane English )

 

If we let any one of the spoke out grow other spokes, then  wheel or circle cease to be  one and there ends  its journey in the way of life, temporarily or permanently.

 Then it is not about just over working, even people can get negatively impacted on overexercising or overeating or  binge-watching Netflix as a way of entertainment.  There is a limit our brain can take glucose or our heart oxygen.  More or less is not only , not beneficial it can be harmful.  

 Secondly, it is important to note that, certain professions, need utmost focus and attention from us, such intensity can be sustained only a few hours at a time /stretch.  It could be the role of a  surgeon, or a truck/bus driver, or a pilot  or even a cook etc.  They all do need a total cut off from work and need absolute rest of body and mind for rejuvenating.  But for many other professions, still if people think, they need a totally segregation of work from rest of their life, it does indicate, their environment in which they work contributes to their stress rather than the work itself.  It could be toxic culture, toxic boss, or overcompetitive coworkers etc.   If I am not too to keen on finding out, or annoyed at, Or feeling stressed out, why my  Boss or my colleagues at work or my customers tries to reach me , when I am at other spokes of my wheel of life, then it could stem more from their images I have “Built” in my mind . I can surely bet that it is not too positive.  We could reverse that question.  If a dear and near, a loved one, tries to reach us during our work hours, what would be our response.

 

To take this argument forward, If  someone , still really thinks the spoke of Work has to be separated form his wheel of life,  s/he got to really got to really evaluate, whether that particular spoke fits wheel with their wheel of life , in values and principles.  Each one of us may have different types of wheel of life.  While I still consider my wheel of life as that of a bullock cart, there could be people with a wheel of life of a Ferrari.

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