Experiencing Layoffs as a Soto Zen Buddhist Unsui
How practice and life as a Soto Zen novice priest helped myself—and others—navigate the uncertainty of the tech world.
Photo by Carl Heyerdahl on Unsplash
I've been working in IT, in some form or fashion, for 20 years. I've practiced Zen Buddhism for the past 10 years. I've been a Zen Buddhist unsui (novice priest) for eight months.
This context is important because each timeframe, each aspect of my life, would have handled the last month and a half of my life similarly—but differently. As a seasoned IT professional and people leader, I've seen my share of layoffs, been fired, fired others, made redundant, let go, and experienced the uncertainty of mergers and acquisitions.
I'm not writing as that person.
As a Zen practitioner, I've experienced hardship, trauma, personal crisis', sat years of zazen, studied, and hopefully have done my best to help others along the way.
I'm not quite writing as that person, either.
Last year, a member of the Treeleaf sangha asked a question, "What made you go from 'I want to learn about Zen/meditate' to 'I want to become a priest?'"
My response to that question was:
It wasn't until a couple of years ago, after a lifetime of mistakes, growth, close calls, and getting myself in a much better place, did the idea of ordaining come around. The pandemic also played a large part—insofar as bearing witness to countless deaths, people I've known my entire life experience depression and anxiety for the first time, and hearing stories of hospital chaplains being the last bit of comfort so many experienced, even if it was just presence they could provide. I want to be of service to others—and live a life congruent with that.
IMO there's nothing of elevation of becoming a priest—simply a lowering of oneself to be of service in the manner(s) needed.
I'm going to do my best to write as this person. (For the first time—for the record.)
The Uncertainty of Life and Layoffs
If there's one thing that Zen and the tech world agree on—it's that everything changes. Sometimes, that change is gradual, almost imperceivable. Other times, an entire world is tossed upside down and forever altered. For good, for bad, and sometimes for no reason at all.
And in today's age, just like life, your time at a company doesn't last forever. In my career I've had 18 different roles with many employers. I've been ceremoniously let go and unceremoniously fired. I've experienced giants of industry created via mergers and entire companies go bankrupt just to be forgotten years later.
Even corporations struggle with desire, sickness, old age, and death, it seems.
If you've been watching the news over the past half a year or so, you'll see many of the giants in my line of work laying off an extremely large amount of people. Meta, Google, Amazon, Zoom, Salesforce—seemingly every company following each other's lead one by one.
I'll refrain from giving any thoughts or opinions on the "why" of these decisions.
The company I work for also decided to lay off a significant amount of people. It was something that was unsurprising to those of us who were able to see the signs. And yet, no matter how much you prepare for something, it still has a way of knocking you off your feet.
Or as legendary American Heavyweight boxer Mike Tyson once said,
Everyone has a plan until they get punched in the mouth.
When the announcement first came down the line multiple things occurred almost simultaneously:
My colleagues who were laid off immediately lost access to internal systems and were deactivated in communication channels. There was no reaching out to them directly to offer any assistance or words.
Hundreds of posts on LinkedIn flooded my timeline. Farewells, grievances, offers of support. The outpouring brought tears to my (and other's) eyes.
Thousands of people collectively began experiencing anxiety, uncertainty, and sadness.
I counted my own blessings for not being one of the initial cut and then asked myself, "How can I be of service, here, now?"
Offering To Be of Service
In The Arts of Contemplative Care: Pioneering Voices in Buddhist Chaplaincy and Pastoral Work, one of the authors writes:
The first step in any care or counseling relationship is being less anxious than the person one is serving.
But what if the person you're serving is more than one person? One team? Dozens upon dozens of people at once? That's the position of service I found myself in.
The morning of the initial announcement and first layoffs I had a member of the leadership team reach out to me: They asked me how I was feeling, if I needed anyone to talk to, and if I needed to take some time off. I very much appreciated their compassion and empathy (working in corporate America my entire life, this is rare and refreshing to experience).
I politely thanked them for their offer and time and replied, "I'm OK. Please reach out to the others on the team/in the Org who aren't, though, and I'll do the same."
If Zen practice, zazen, and life experience had taught me anything, it's that things come, things go, life is up, life is down, and despite everything traumatic I've been through—I'm perfectly OK as long as I'm willing to experience life fully as it is. Especially if that means experiencing not being perfectly OK. Layoffs in the tech world are no different.
I have always tried to lead with empathy in my career—regardless of my job title or status. Following the conversation with my leadership, I made an offer:
I had no answers to give, nothing concrete to provide anyone, but I could be an ear if someone needed to vent. A shoulder if someone needed to cry. A guide if someone wanted résumé or career advice. I couldn't give anyone peace of mind, but I offered what little I could in a calm, stable, manner.
What I didn't expect was just how many people would ultimately reach out. As one person put it: "I'm happy that we have a monk on the team."
The Road Ahead
The first week, I had so many people reaching out that I couldn't keep up with my daily job duties. I'm grateful that my direct leadership was so understanding. Every day, dozens of people contacted me.
For some, this was their first experience with layoffs and were looking for reassurances or career advice. Others needed to vent at leadership, the system, and the world itself. Every person unique, every one experiencing life, every situation different—but the same.
I of course have no power in layoff decisions. I couldn't fix anyone. I couldn't make the uncertainty end. In most cases, all I could do was offer an understanding and open presence. And in most cases, I found, that was enough.
However, what I also found out was how taxing this amount of presence could be—while also allowing myself to experience things too! As our priests, the unsui, and close friends (in and out of the sangha) can tell you: I was drained at the end of each day.
Over the course of the month that followed that first difficult week, my days, and life, were pared down to the most basic of routines:
7AM - Wake up, check my personal email to see if I still had a job myself
8AM - Zazen, make a pot of coffee
9AM - Clock in to work
6PM - Clock out of work
7-8PM - Talk to those who didn't want to reach out during work hours
9PM - Midnight - Try to keep up with priest studies, zazen, get ready for bed
When we talk about taking the priesthood/Zen out into the world, I'd like to think this is one of those periods of time where this was actualized. Living each day with palms-up—to accept whatever may come—and to give freely what could be given to others.
However, as Joan Halifax has rightly said:
Buddhists do not separate wisdom from compassion. These qualities are two sides of the same coin of our basic humanity.
One must also learn where to show that compassion to themselves, too. For me, that came in the way of taking time for myself on the weekends, disconnected from everything, to **not** do anything, and **not** put pressure on myself to shoulder it all.
Maintaining Perspective
During layoffs, and life (especially for us Zen practitioners), it's important to maintain a sense of greater perspective and a willingness to accept the uncertainty of all things.
When we sit zazen, we allow whatever that arises to arise, whatever may fall to fall. Thoughts and emotions, worries and fears, pleasantness and stillness—all will arise, all will fall. We simply sit and put enlightenment into practice.
When it comes to what we do when we're off the cushion, Dōgen Zenji said:
... the Way is not separated from where you are.
It's this type of realization and practice that helped me navigate the layoffs (and continues to do so). As things have begun to settle, the waters become less muddy, and less people are being let go, I can see the impact of having this consistent practice.
Not only was I able to handle the uncertainty, anxiety, and deep emotions from also experiencing the layoff process—because of practice, I was able to be of service and help (little as it may have been in my mind) to others.
"How can I best be of service in this situation?" was usually answered by simply showing, and experiencing with others, the beauty of being with things "as they are".
And if you are ever wondering how you can help others in difficult situations, let me tell you: you don't need to be a priest or a monk to be present, calm, and to listen and respond adequately.
But in this case, how humbled and appreciative I am to be the "monk [priest] on the team".
I appreciated your advice. Blessings in the path forward. Keep being amazing. All the best 🙏✌️🙌