Why Zazen “Doesn’t Work” — And Why That’s Exactly the Point (Diarogue)

Why Zazen “Doesn’t Work” — And Why That’s Exactly the Point (Diarogue)

If you sit down hoping meditation will fix your sleep, you’re already doing it wrong.

It started, as many of our conversations do, with Nicholas complaining.

He’d barely sat down before he pushed his espresso aside and leaned across the table with that look — the one that means someone back at the office has said something he can’t quite shake.

“Okay, Takeshi. I need your help. One of my American colleagues — sharp guy, genuinely curious about Japan — he tried zazen. Like, really tried it. Three weeks. Every night before bed. And now he’s telling me it’s useless.”

Nicholas: He said he read about how zazen is supposed to help you sleep better. Calm the mind, all that stuff. So he tries it, and — nothing. Still lying awake for an hour after. He’s frustrated. Honestly, I didn’t know what to tell him, so I figured I’d ask you.

Takeshi: What exactly was he trying to do when he sat down?

Nicholas: What do you mean? Meditate. Clear his head. Sleep better.

Takeshi: Right. That’s the problem.

Nicholas: (pauses) That’s the problem? That he was trying to sleep better?

Takeshi: Yeah. The moment you sit down with a goal, you’ve already made it very hard for any of it to happen.

Catherine: (looking up from her notes) Sorry, I want to make sure I understand. You’re saying the intention itself is what gets in the way?

Takeshi: More or less. In Zen, zazen isn’t a technique. It’s not a tool you pick up to fix something. The instruction, stripped down to its core, is literally just — sit. That’s it. Shikantaza. Just sitting.

Nicholas: Okay but come on. People don’t just sit. There has to be a reason they’re doing it.

Takeshi: Sure, and that’s fine. Curiosity is fine. A friend told you about it, fine. But the second you sit down thinking, “alright, tonight I’m going to sleep better” — you’ve turned zazen into a transaction. You’re expecting a return. And then your mind spends the whole time checking: Is it working yet? Am I relaxed? Why am I still thinking about my inbox?

Catherine: That’s… actually exactly what happens to me when I try to meditate. I spend the whole time judging whether I’m doing it right.

Takeshi: Exactly. And then you end up more agitated than when you started.

Nicholas: So what’s your colleague supposed to do? Just sit there for no reason?

Takeshi: Pretty much. I know how that sounds to you.

Nicholas: (laughing) It sounds like a complete waste of time, honestly.

Takeshi: (smiling) Good. Hold onto that feeling.

Nicholas: What?

Takeshi: Sit down thinking “this is probably useless.” That’s actually closer to the right posture than “this is going to fix my sleep.”

Nicholas: You’re serious.

Takeshi: The funny thing is — if you sit regularly without expecting anything, the body starts doing what it does. Your breathing slows down on its own. The muscles you didn’t even know were clenched start to release. The noise in your head doesn’t disappear, but it becomes less urgent. And yeah, a lot of people find they sleep better. But that’s a side effect, not the product.

Catherine: So the benefit comes because you’re not chasing it.

Takeshi: In a way. There’s an old thing people say about sleep — the harder you try to fall asleep, the more awake you become. Zazen is the same. The moment you turn it into a project, you’ve lost something.

Nicholas: Okay, I get the philosophy. But my colleague is a data guy. He’s going to ask me — is there any actual evidence that zazen affects sleep, or are we just talking theory?

Takeshi: There’s research on it. Studies on breath regulation, parasympathetic nervous system activation, cortisol reduction. The body does respond. But I’m not a scientist, and honestly, that’s not why I sit.

Nicholas: Why do you sit?

Takeshi: (thinks for a moment) I’m not sure I can give you a clean answer. I sit because I sit. It’s part of how I move through the day. If I try to explain it too much, it starts to sound like something it isn’t.

Catherine: That’s kind of beautiful. But also a little frustrating to explain to someone who’s struggling with it.

Takeshi: (nodding) Yeah. That’s the gap. The instruction is simple but the doing of it is strange, because we’re so trained to make everything purposeful. We exercise to lose weight. We read to learn something. We even relax in order to perform better tomorrow. The idea of doing something that isn’t aimed at an outcome — most people don’t have a muscle for that.

Nicholas: That is very much not how we think in finance. Every action has a measurable expected value.

Takeshi: I know. And I’m not saying that’s wrong, in the right context. But zazen is a completely different context. It’s not an investment.

Catherine: Can I ask something? What should someone actually do when they sit? Like, physically, mentally — if they’re starting from nothing?

Takeshi: Sit somewhere you won’t be disturbed. Cross your legs if you can, or sit on a chair — it doesn’t matter as much as people think. Straighten your spine. Put your hands in your lap. And breathe. When thoughts come — and they will — you don’t fight them. You just notice them and let them pass. Like clouds moving across a sky you’re watching from the ground.

Nicholas: How long?

Takeshi: As long as you want. Ten minutes is fine. If your colleague is doing it before sleep, ten minutes is probably plenty.

Nicholas: And tell him not to expect anything.

Takeshi: Tell him to sit as if it doesn’t matter whether it helps or not. That’s the posture. (pause) Actually — tell him to sit like he’s already asleep.

Nicholas: (laughing) That’s the most zen thing I’ve ever heard you say.

Catherine: Can I use that? For my research?

Takeshi: It’s not mine. It came from somewhere else. Everything in Zen came from somewhere else.

We stayed another hour, talking about other things — Nicholas brought up Aaron Judge’s spring training numbers, which led nowhere useful — but I kept thinking about what he’d said. That’s the most zen thing I’ve ever heard you say.

I’m not sure it was Zen at all. It might just be common sense, dressed in a different costume.

But maybe that’s all any of this is.

What to Take Away

Zazen is not a sleep aid. It’s not a productivity tool or a stress management technique. It just happens — sometimes — to do things that look like all of those, if you stop trying to make it.

The paradox at the center of Zen practice is that pursuing the benefit destroys the conditions that produce it. This isn’t mysticism; it’s something most of us have felt in ordinary life. You can’t force yourself to fall asleep. You can’t try to enjoy a meal — you just eat it. Presence resists effort.

If you want to experiment with zazen, here’s the only instruction that matters: sit down and don’t try to achieve anything. Let it be useless. Let it be quiet. Let it be exactly what it is.

Whatever happens after that is between you and the cushion.

If you’re curious about the deeper idea behind this conversation, I wrote a short essay exploring the question people ask most often:

If you found peace in these words, feel free to follow for more reflections on Zen and philosophy. Let’s walk this path together.

SHIBUMIWORKS PROJECT explores Japanese philosophy and spirituality through honest, unscripted conversation. Takeshi Kitagawa is a graphic and textile designer based in Osaka. Nicholas and Catherine are composite characters drawn from real conversations and real people.