In the foundational Zen text, the Xinxin Ming (Confidence in Mind), the Third Patriarch Sengcan opens with a radical statement: “The Great Way is not difficult for those who have no preferences.”

Imagine standing in a vast, wind-swept valley. The wind blows from the north, cold and biting; then it shifts from the south, warm and gentle. Most of us immediately divide the experience: the north wind is bad, an annoyance to be endured or cursed; the south wind is good, a blessing to be welcomed and held onto. We construct an elaborate internal architecture of grasping and rejecting. We spend our lives perpetually bracing against the weather of existence.

Sengcan’s teaching is not an invitation to apathy, but an invitation to look deeper. The “Great Way” or ultimate reality is obscured only by our relentless categorization. When preference arises—when we say, “I must have this, and I must push away that”—we fracture the seamless mirror of consciousness. We split the world into a battleground of subject and object, self and other. The mind becomes a restless pendulum, swinging eternally between anxiety over losing what we love and dread over encountering what we hate. Freedom, therefore, is not found by winning the battle against the external world, but by quietly stepping off the battlefield altogether.

Application to Modern Life

In our hyper-connected, hyper-stimulated modern existence, this ancient wisdom directly challenges our relationship with daily friction. Consider how much mental energy we exhaust simply reacting to minor inconveniences: a delayed flight, a critical email, an unexpected traffic jam, or a canceled plan. Our default setting is immediate resistance—a tightening of the chest and an internal grievance against reality.

Applying Sengcan’s teaching does not mean we stop solving problems or working toward goals. Rather, it invites us to pause before the mechanical reaction of preference takes over. When a difficult situation arises, we can notice the mind’s instant labeling of it as “bad.” By simply observing this label without identifying with it, the emotional charge dissolves. We begin to deal with life as it actually is, rather than how our ego demands it should be. In dropping our endless demands on reality, we discover an effortless resilience—a quiet center within the storm where action becomes clear, unburdened, and profoundly free.