Within Shodo Harada Roshi’s Rinzai Zen, the very structure of practice itself becomes a primary challenge. The intensive schedule—early rising, long hours of zazen, extended sesshin, and continuous samu—demands considerable physical stamina and mental steadiness. Maintaining a stable posture through prolonged sitting often brings significant discomfort and pain, which can easily give rise to restlessness and doubt. Silence, minimal external stimulation, and the strictness of monastic forms can feel stark and even overwhelming, especially to those unaccustomed to such a disciplined environment. These conditions are not incidental; they function as a mirror, revealing habitual reactions to pressure, fatigue, and constraint.

Another central difficulty lies in the inner work of ego confrontation. The tradition emphasizes seeing through self-centered habits at a fundamental level, which means facing fear, pride, defensiveness, and the need for approval without turning away. As deep-seated psychological patterns surface—old wounds, anxiety, or long-buried emotions—there can be a strong impulse either to suppress them or to become lost in them. The teaching continually points beyond both strategies, asking for a presence that neither indulges nor rejects what appears. This process can be unsettling, as it undermines familiar self-images and exposes the limits of one’s usual coping mechanisms.

Koan practice and the teacher–student relationship add another layer of challenge. Koans cannot be resolved through ordinary reasoning, yet the habit of approaching them intellectually is strong, leading to frustration and self-doubt when such efforts fail. In dokusan, the demand to present a living, non-conceptual understanding can feel intense, especially under direct and uncompromising feedback. This dynamic tests not only insight but also trust: trust in the teacher’s guidance, and equally, a sober sense of personal responsibility and discernment. The pressure of this encounter often exposes subtle forms of spiritual ambition and attachment to attainment.

Finally, there is the long arc of integrating practice into the whole of life. The tradition does not confine Zen to the meditation hall; work, relationships, and ordinary tasks are treated as extensions of zazen. Many find it difficult to carry the same clarity and wholeheartedness into family life, employment, and the distractions of modern existence. Balancing vigorous effort with genuine letting go is a subtle art, as over-striving can lead to burnout while passivity can masquerade as acceptance. Sustaining practice over years—through plateaus, doubts, and changing life circumstances—may be one of the most demanding obstacles, yet it is precisely this perseverance that allows the teachings to permeate the fabric of everyday living.