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Satori in the Middle of Noise

  • kiranjoshi9
  • Jul 8, 2025
  • 2 min read

Updated: Jul 21, 2025

 


We’ve likely heard the Japanese word Satori—a sudden moment of deep insight or awakening. In Zen Buddhism, this experience is seen as a glimpse of enlightenment, a break in the clouds of everyday illusion. Monks and lifelong practitioners often nurture and deepen this moment until it becomes their very way of being. But for many of us including me, Satori arrives more in brief moments.

 

I’ve been chanting Nam Myoho Renge Kyo—the core mantra of Nichiren Buddhism—for 18 months now. It affirms my belief in the mystical law of cause and effect and the inherent Buddha nature within myself and all beings. This practice, derived from the profound Lotus Sutra, has become a quiet yet steady part of my daily life.

 

This morning, after chanting and meditating—with the usual background noise of thoughts refusing to fully settle—I opened Chapter 2 of the Lotus Sutra, Expedient Means. It wasn’t the first time I’d read it, but something happened that hadn’t before. A particular passage stopped me in my tracks. Buddha was speaking of the “voice-hearers”—those who hear the teachings but cannot yet grasp the profound wisdom within them. The text read to something like this: “The door to the Buddha’s wisdom is difficult to enter for the voice-hearers.”

 

I’ve read this line before. But today… I felt it.

 

That was my Satori moment. In that instant, I realized: I am the voice-hearer. I chant, I meditate, I study these teachings—but the relentless chatter in my mind, the stream of thoughts, opinions, and distractions, constantly stand between me and true comprehension. The insight didn’t come with fireworks—it came with stillness. A quiet, clear recognition.

 

I understood something deeply: The goal is not to silence every thought, but to stop clinging to them. Not to fight the noise, but to not get stuck in it. And in that subtle shift, I felt a moment of peace. A spaciousness. No—I don’t want to stay a “voice-hearer.” I want to awaken. I want to live from that space of insight, not just touch it and let it slip away.

 

But here’s the question I now carry: How do I let this Satori stretch into my day? As I get ready, drive through chaotic traffic, and show up at work with its expectations and distractions—how do I keep that door open?

 

I don’t know the full answer yet. But maybe it begins by remembering this moment. Maybe enlightenment doesn’t demand perfection—it just asks us to keep waking up, over and over, in the middle of ordinary life.

 

Maybe Satori isn’t the end—it’s the beginning of remembering who we really are.


 
 
 

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