(For Phil Sudo)

Earthly tones, with pitch
Ascending, stairsteps to
Divinity.  Silver strings,
Gossamer wings, carry us
Beyond this world to ride
Ethereal melodies.

Expectations fall away,
Allowing soul to soar
Drifting upward in a
Gyre, each cycle higher than
Before.  Tune up!  And
Elevate your consciousness.

— Stace Johnson, 2006

Zen Guitar

Zen Guitar

By:  Philip Toshio Sudo

Type:  Extended inspirational metaphor

Setting:  The Zen Guitar Dojo


Using Zen teachings interspersed with quotes and examples from famous musicians, Phil Sudo guides us on a tour through the Zen Guitar Dojo.  The dojo is a virtual practice studio; one can enter the studio anywhere, at any time, because it is more a state of mind than a physical reality.  Focus and dedication are the keys to this dojo; a beginner’s mind and openness to the teaching allow growth to occur.

Sudo divides the book into five main parts, each indicating different levels of progression in Zen Guitar.  When a new student enters the dojo, no matter his level of playing ability, he must embrace the beginner’s mind and put on the white belt, and these basics are covered in the first section of the book.

As the student moves through the dojo, his white belt becomes soiled from practice and begins to turn black; practice is the focus of the second section of the book.  When a player has practiced enough to become proficient, his belt may be completely black, and with that comes the responsibility of using what he has learned wisely.  That responsibility is the subject of the third section of the book.  Of course, just because a student has attained the black belt level, that doesn’t mean he is finished.  As in any dojo, a black belt only indicates that the student’s true learning has begun.

As he studies, his belt may begin to fray, and strands of the original white belt will begin to show through.  He will have learned much, and now is confronted with the question of where the music comes from.  Is he playing it, or is it playing him?  The correct answer is mu, the classic transcendent point of Zen philosophy.  The music is neither playing nor being played by the student, and the student will only understand his relationship to it when he drops the need for duality.  This is the subject of the fourth section.

Finally, when the student has played and practiced enough that his belt is once again white, he realizes that it was white all along, and that the way he got to the level he is now is by keeping the beginner’s mind forefront, and by wearing the same white belt.  The final section is a recap of all that the student has learned, and it is all white belt material.


I purchased this book in May of 2001.  I had seen it on the rack at my local magazine store and thought it looked fascinating, and finally I bought it, knowing nothing about the author or, really, what the book was about.  It sat inside my nightstand for a year before I took it out again and started reading.  I read it in small chunks, wanting to chew on each piece slowly, rather than blazing through the book and missing the points.  It was a very easy read; Sudo’s style is crisp, simple, and clean, and he makes even the difficult Zen concepts come across clearly.  I learned valuable information from many sections of the book that deal directly with stumbling points in my playing:  “Mistakes,” “Stages and Plateaus,” “Self-Doubt,” and “Overthinking” are all sections with which I connected directly.  They are all in the “white belt to black belt” section, so I guess I know where I am on the path of Zen Guitar.  I look forward to the day when I find I am connecting better with the sections in the later part of the book.

Some interesting things have happened to my playing since I started reading this book.  I’ve taken more risks, for one thing.  I have also worked on learning a lot of new songs, most of them heavier than I am used to playing.  I tried out for a band that is ready to start gigging, and I played and sang onstage at a local jam without feeling overly self-conscious.  I’m not sure how much of that can be attributed to the book, but I am sure that the book helped me develop the mindset that I needed to be open to these opportunities.

There is another coincidence: a very said one.  When I finished the book, I went to the Zen Guitar website listed in the back of the book.  I wanted to see if there was anything new that Sudo had added to the dojo that would complement this review, and I wanted to let him know that I had enjoyed the book and was going to write the review.  When I arrived at the website, the first thing I noticed was a date range:  Philip Toshio Sudo, October 20th, 1959 – June 9th, 2002.

Evidently Phil had been battling cancer since about the time that I bought the book.  He kept a journal online, and as I read through it, I thought of the same steps that my brother took as he fought cancer.  Phil lived a couple of years longer than my brother did, and from all accounts on the website, he lived live with a joy and presence that comes from viewing the world from within Zen.

I checked my Creativity Journal for June 9th, and I’m happy to say that I was in a Zen Guitar frame of mind that day, working out a song list for my basement band and studying the fret board.  The next day, I noted that I had “read some more Zen Guitar.”  I’m sure Phil would be happy to know that.


Though Zen Guitar is primarily aimed at guitarists, the ideas are universal.  Anyone, whether s/he plays an instrument or not, should be able to find something of worth in these pages if s/he is open enough to look.  At one point in the book, when Sudo is talking about recovering from mistakes, he says, “When things falls apart, make art.  Carry this spirit though to every area of your life.”  I think most of the principles in this book can be extended to all areas of life.  Basically, it’s all about maintaining a beginner’s mind: being open to learning new things, appreciating what we have yet to learn, and using the time we have left wisely, as Phil did.

Thank you, Phil Sudo, for allowing me into your dojo.

The Tao of Physics

The Tao of Physics

By: Fritjof Capra

Type: Non-fiction

Setting: n/a


In a sweeping series of chapters that read more like essays, Capra gives descriptions of the main Eastern religions, their differences and similarities and the parallels between many of these faiths and the path of modern physics. 


Though a little over the head of the common layman, The Tao of Physics is an excellent treatise on interconnection. Modern physics, more and more, is suggesting that the reality we perceive is illusory, and that the “real world” is something far beyond our current level of understanding. We have deduced numerous equations to predict how the world works, but none of them apply at all levels of existence; Classical physics breaks down when used to predict the actions of subatomic particles and subatomic physics can not measure with certainty the actions of anything larger than subatomic size. Light appears to be a wave at some times and a stream of particles at others. Electron spin information can be transferred instantaneously — seemingly faster than the speed of light — even when an isolated electron pair is separated by millions of miles (at least in a gedankenexperiment.) The world of modern physics is rife with wonderful contradictions, so what better to compare it with than the mystical wisdom of the orient?

Obviously, the Zen Buddhists come to mind, with their famous koans — hypothetical paradoxes which a student of Zen is to meditate upon to attain enlightenment. Capra focuses much of his comparitive study on this metaphysical faith, but also brings in aspects of Hinduism, Confucianism, Taoism and even jujistu and kendo. It is obvious he is well versed in both theoretical physics and eastern mysticism, and it is refreshing to see a scientist brave enough to step away from the fold and still bring scientific evidence to bear to support his position. This is no Eric von Daniken or Velikovsky talking; Capra knows his work, and is simply pointing out that western science and eastern mysticism may simply be two different paths from which to approach the same enlightened goal. 


People who are not at least familiar with developments in modern physics may become bogged down in this book. They might be better off starting with Capra’s other popular book, The Turning Point, or reading Alice in Quantumland by Robert Gilmore to get a light brushup on the ideas covered. Similarly, those with no exposure to eastern mysticism may find that they do not grasp all of what Capra says. Good building blocks for these people can be found in The Spirit of Zen by Alan Watts and any number of good survey texts on eastern religions and thought systems. If you happen to be a master physicist and Zen master, you probably don’t need to read this book; you need to write one!