Teachings

On action, breath, and the path to reawakening

By Matthias Esho Birk Dec 18, 2025

An altar at Still Mind Zendo.

At the beginning of our regular meditations at Still Mind Zendo, we chant the following words: “All the harmful karma ever created by me of old, on account of my beginningless greed, hatred, and ignorance, born of my conduct, speech, and thought, I repent of it now.” It is the Gatha of Repentance, used widely in Zen centers around the world.

I always found that an odd way to begin a Zen meditation session. Karma, to me, belonged to the “Buddhist-Buddhists”—the ones who hold beliefs about rebirth, a supposed law of karma, or an ethical doctrine promising that good deeds will lead to good outcomes, if not in this life, then in the next. That never felt like Zen. Zen is about dropping beliefs, especially big ones, about past and future lives. I often actually took a bit of pride in answering “I try not to have any,*” *when someone asked what my religious beliefs were (of course, that is its own attachment). So why were we chanting about karma and repentance? It felt almost more Catholic than Zen.

The original Sanskrit meaning of karma—karman—simply means “action” and “effect.” Our actions, our thoughts and feelings have consequences. Not much mystical about that. For example: When I think a work colleague is withholding information or scheming against me, feelings of anger, frustration, and fear arise almost automatically. Flooded with stress hormones, I start looking for evidence that confirms my suspicion. Science shows that when we’re triggered, memory reorganizes itself—threat-related memories float to the surface. Suddenly, a casual lunch last month seems charged: Were her questions actually attempts to pry information from me? The thought spirals. I tense up. I become more guarded. I consider canceling our bimonthly lunches altogether. One unexamined thought creates an entire chain of consequences.

Our minds, unfortunately, are primed for this. We are socially sensitive and quick to take things personally. We also readily ascribe others’ behaviors to their personality, while interpreting our own behavior in terms of circumstances. Western psychology calls this the “fundamental attribution error.”

Buddhist psychology speaks of the three poisons: greed, hatred, and ignorance. We want things to be different, we are prone to interpret the other person’s behavior as malicious, and we overlook all the ways our own perception is distorted, full of biases. Negative feelings attract negative thoughts, and negative thoughts create more negative feelings. Before we know it, we’re living in a mental world of regret, envy, fear, and self-protection. I’m no stranger to that world.

“Breath sweeps mind,” as a Zen saying goes. The breath interrupts the storylines and loosens the emotional knots. A space opens—fresh, new, unburdened. For a moment, we are free.

But where did that original thought come from? The one that sowed distrust around my colleague? Why did it arise? Perhaps from a deeper fear around trust—one shaped long before this colleague ever entered my life. “The karma created by me of old” acknowledges that our thoughts, feelings, and actions do not arise randomly. They grow out of earlier thoughts, feelings, and actions.

During my training in family therapy a few years back, we created what’s called a geneaogram: a kind of emotional family tree tracing themes, struggles, and dynamics across generations. Going back to my parents and grandparents, I saw how much of my own emotional life sits inside a larger family system. Patterns of thinking and reacting echo through generations. Our karma—our habitual ways of perceiving and responding—is not determined, but it is not independent either.

Why is it not determined? Because the same law of cause and effect also gives us accountability for this moment. Whatever we think, feel, or do now will shape the next moment, and the next. There is tremendous power in this. Yes, this moment was shaped by the last—and this moment shapes what comes after. The thoughts we choose to engage with now, the feelings we nurture now, plant the seeds for the future.

So the only moment we have to shape our karma is the present one. When we “repent of it now,” we acknowledge the karma we carry and the freshness of this moment. Both are true. We all come with our egos, wounds, histories, and habits. And none of that defines us unless we let it.

In Zen meditation, we return again and again to the breath. When the mind wanders into labeling, comparing, judging, regretting, spinning stories about what might happen next, we practice to reawaken to this present moment. “Breath sweeps mind,” as a Zen saying goes. The breath interrupts the storylines and loosens the emotional knots. A space opens—fresh, new, unburdened. For a moment, we are free.

This is why breathing is the essence of our practice. It is the only moment available to us, and it is the birthplace of awakening and transformation. Karma means that past thoughts and actions have led to this moment. It also means that this moment is the birthplace of the next. What we think, how we feel, what we do—it all matters. This moment is the foundation for everything that follows. That’s why we start our meditations with acknowledging this. “We all come with our baggage” to sitting, as one of my students recently called it. We may believe that that baggage constitutes us. That it defines us. That it predicts our actions, thoughts, and feelings.

Take a breath. Wake up. And begin again.

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