Begin by settling into a quiet space where distractions can be left at the door. A few deep breaths will open the door to presence. Then, pick a short passage—perhaps “All dharmas are like a dream, an illusion”—and let its echo ripple through the mind. Rather than intellectualizing, feel the words as a soft breeze, brushing against habitual thoughts.

Next, pair silent reading with chanting. Many Zen centers livestream Diamond Sutra recitations (the San Francisco Zen Center resumed weekly online sittings just this year). Chanting anchors attention and transforms the text into lived vibration. Notice how each syllable lands, then dissolves, much like the Sutra’s teaching on non-attachment.

During formal sitting, hold the phrase “Form is emptiness, emptiness is form” as a mental koan. Whenever a wandering thought arises—about work deadlines, social media updates, even grocery lists—gently return to that kernel of truth. No need to wrestle with the thought; simply let it float by like a passing cloud.

Walking meditation offers another avenue. Choose a short corridor or garden path. With each step, mentally articulate a line from the Sutra or silently reflect on “no-birth, no-death.” Feel earth beneath the feet, noticing how each footfall arises and fades, mirroring the teaching that phenomena lack permanent essence.

Journaling can solidify insights. After practice, jot down moments when clinging softened or when the illusion of a solid self flickered. Observing patterns helps recognize where attachment still holds sway—perhaps around plans for summer travel or the urge to control outcomes at work.

Finally, bring the Sutra into daily life by treating conversations and encounters as opportunities to test non-grasping. When opinions surge, pause and recall “nothing to be attained.” This isn’t about suppressing thoughts but about creating space where compassion and wisdom can flourish.

Over time, meditation on the Diamond Sutra turns into a living inquiry: “What remains when all clinging falls away?” The steady answering isn’t found in pages alone but in every breath and step, reminding that practice and teaching are one and the same.