A few years ago, I had the opportunity to interview Sensei Koshin Paley Ellison. It was one of my first interviews with a Buddhist master, and as I logged on to our virtual meeting I was nervous. He turned up in his robe, cup of tea in hand, wise and utterly human. The conversation touched on his work at the New York Zen Center for Contemplative Care, among other things—and it stayed with me long after.
What is it about certain people that lingers? With Koshin, it was his humor, his warmth, his ability to stay curious moment by moment. But that’s all a bit abstract. So let me offer something more personal.
Last month, my husband and I visited New York City and stayed with our friend Dave, one of my favorite people. We slept on an air mattress in his kitchen—cramped quarters, city noise, the kind of chaotic stay that somehow feels like home. Dave is sharp-witted and generous, with a capacity for connection that never seems to tire. He’ll talk to anyone and make you feel like you belong. He also carries a lot of anger with him. In the midst of all that energy, I found myself drawn back to the Zen Center and to Koshin, and arranged a long-intended visit.
The Zen Center is far from what you’d expect. No garden, no fresh air. It sits unassumingly on 23rd Street in Manhattan, so inconspicuous that I’d visited the museum below it years earlier without noticing. The location defies the quiet, removed stereotype—and so did the walk there. A large man named Damien grabbed my husband in a bear hug, declared his love, and showed us a photo of himself with Woody Harrelson. “Do you recognize this man?” he asked. When we named the actor, he belted out, “WHO ELSE?” We said Damien’s name. He softened at being seen. “I LOVE YOU,” he called after us as we walked away.
Not 15 meters later, we got in the way of an elderly couple doing their daily rounds with their walking sticks. I apologized and let out a nervous laugh, which was interpreted by the woman as a personal attack. She started yelling at me, “It’s not funny, it’s not funny!” on repeat, while her husband, oblivious to her distress, asked about my accent. Turns out he was Swiss, like me. In his dialect, he described how he came to the city on a boat when he was just a young boy. It was exactly the kind of encounter that could only happen in New York City—absurd, disorienting, and deeply human.
Koshin writes about this very street: “I love walking down 23rd Street . . . it allows me to understand how quickly the mind says, ‘I like that person. I don’t like that person.’” He also shares a story about the gym below the Zen center, where the music would vibrate through the floor during meditation. He asked them to turn it down, and they would—only for it to creep back up again. Eventually he realized this was part of his practice too: the bass, like the sirens and the traffic, was just another chance to wake up. To be alive to what was, rather than wishing it away. The great adventure, he says, is walking down 23rd Street and actually being there. Awake. “Bright clarity appearing before you.” He rides his bike to the center—I imagine him as a colorful addition to the city’s glorious mess!
For my sensitive soul, stepping into the Zen center on the fourth floor was a relief. The fragrant incense, the quiet spaciousness, and the contemplative artifacts were instantly soothing. We were warmly greeted by Wade, who helps run the center, then by Koshin and his husband Sensei Chodo, who wished us a sincere “enjoy your life,” as he headed to lunch. The calm was palpable, but so was the humor. When we declined their meditation invitation—we had plans with Dave—Koshin smiled knowingly. “Typical Dave.” We all laughed. There couldn’t have been a more apt saying.
When I told Dave about this encounter later, he paused. “I’d like to learn more about Zen.” Then he retracted. “Being angry is who I am. Zen all the time? That’s not real.” I tried to explain that Zen doesn’t bypass anger, but he wasn’t interested.
Dave isn’t alone. Many believe Buddhism asks us to ignore our emotions—to practice spiritual bypassing. But that’s a misconception. Koshin writes about growing up in a home where sadness and anger weren’t allowed, although they filled the house. We beat ourselves up for feelings every being has, he says. The responsibility lies not in avoiding them, but in how we meet them. When we recognize “the giant of anger” in ourselves, we can recognize it in others—and that’s where compassion lives. The false peace of “getting your Zen on” is actually a frozen trance, what Zen calls being a “dead tree” or “lost in the demon cave.”
Zen, in fact, is about waking up—being alive to what is here, moment by moment. Not bypassing the hard stuff, but meeting it fully. Koshin teaches that the Eightfold Path is not a set of restrictions but a path toward liberation. It’s about learning to be with all of it—the anger, the sadness, the joy—without being consumed. Untangling the knots that keep us small, so we can show up as we truly are. When we stop fighting our own experience, we become “free to howl at the moon.” These aren’t just words—Koshin lives them. When I asked permission to explore and take photos, he replied with a cheeky smile: “Why not? You’re a free person.”
Koshin touched me years ago and that impression has held. Since our visit, my husband and I often invoke his sayings. My hope is that this piece offers a sense of how Zen can teach us to meet life with openness and curiosity.
But the Zen Center’s reach extends far beyond 23rd Street. Next month, we’ll explore how they take this practice into the wider world—training doctors, caregivers, and contemplative practitioners across the globe. As Koshin writes, their community spans continents and hemispheres, a reminder that the world is always larger than our view of it. And that the practice of waking up—of meeting each moment as it is—is not a retreat from life, but a way of living it more fully, wherever we find ourselves.
Nina Müller is a Mindfulness Teacher who offers online mindfulness coaching sessions. If you would like to find out more, please visit The Mindful Practice to book a complimentary consultation.
References
Ellison, Koshin Paley. 2019. Wholehearted: Slow Down, Help Out, Wake Up. Somerville, Massachusetts: Wisdom Publications.
Ellison, Koshin Paley. 2022. Untangled: Walking the Eightfold Path to Clarity, Courage, and Compassion. New York: Balance/Grand Central Publishing.
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