---
ai_generation_date: '2026-07-28'
ai_model: gemini-3-pro-preview
audiodharma:
  talks:
    - date: '2026-07-26'
      mp3_url: https://audiodharma.us-east-1.linodeobjects.com/talks/25919/20260726-gil_fronsdal-imc-mindfulness_of_the_heart_-_gil_fronsdal.mp3
      speakers:
        - speaker_name: Gil Fronsdal
          speaker_url: https://www.audiodharma.org/speakers/1
      talk_start_time_seconds: 0
      title: The One Who Is Not Busy
      url: https://www.audiodharma.org/talks/25919
      video_unavailable: false
location_city: Redwood City, CA
video_unavailable: false
youtube:
  id: j0bKSoEflUY
  imprecise_upload_date: null
  title: Mindfulness of the Heart - Gil Fronsdal
  upload_date: '2026-07-24'
  uploader_str: Insight Meditation Center
  uploader_url: https://www.youtube.com/@InsightMeditationCenter
youtube_url: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j0bKSoEflUY
---

# The One Who Is Not Busy - [Gil Fronsdal](https://www.audiodharma.org/speakers/1)

_This is an AI-generated transcript from auto-generated subtitles for the video above. It likely contains inaccuracies, especially with speaker attribution if there are multiple speakers._

## [The One Who Is Not Busy](https://www.audiodharma.org/talks/25919)

So many years ago, I was involved in Zen practice, and some of that teaching still lives in me and comes through. And this week, what came through for me was a Zen phrase that is an interesting phrase to carry with you as a mirror, as a question mark, as a part of the exploration. And the phrase is six words: the one who is not busy.

The one who is not busy. The answer is not your neighbor down the street who's retired, done, and has passed that test. The phrase is a mirror for yourself, and maybe it can be rephrased: What is it in you that is not busy? Even if you're busy, even if you're doing a lot of things, is there a refuge? Is there a spot? Is there a location? Is there a place that goes with you where you feel, "Oh, that's the place that's not busy?" What's the place that's not busy inside of you?

Do you carry with you a presence? Do you carry with you a form of awareness, an attention that has a certain kind of peace in it, or quiet in it, or stillness in it, that is a wonderful ballast, a wonderful reference point, a wonderful source of stability in the midst of all the changing, challenging things we might be doing in our life? What is that place inside of you that's not busy? What's a place inside of you which is calm that you carry with you?

I think this can be a very important reference point, because if our inner life is not calm—if our inner life is anxious, agitated, or shut down in some big way—then our inner life is not going to be able to help itself, and maybe we won't be able to help others. The Buddha said that if you want to be calm, the nourishment for calm is calm itself, which may be irritating, but the idea is that if you feel a need for tranquility, go find tranquility. There are calm people to be with. There are calm places people go to. There are calm activities that we might choose to do that calm us down, maybe even meditation. To do things where the calm situation helps to calm something deeper inside. If we don't do that, the way that we're agitated and anxious and spinning around all the time may not be useful for us or for the world.

Now, sometimes meditation is not the best thing to do for some people to get calm. Oddly enough, sometimes the introspection of meditation—being self-conscious in meditation about what's going on inside—just stirs us up even more, and it's not so calming. But is there some way to understand and look deeply inside of yourself? Meditation is a phenomenally useful place to step out of the ways we're spinning in our mind, step out of the ways we're disconnected, and step out of the ways that we are agitated in a way that's not helpful.

One of the interesting things to see in meditation, or a metaphor or analogy, is if I've seen two people come together where they were both agitated, both maybe anxious, and by the time they spend time together, they are both even more agitated than they were when they started. They were just feeding each other and spinning each other in the anxiety. I mean, there's a lot of things to be afraid of in the world. Let's go through the list. [Laughter] I'm anxious. We're not going to name it all, so let's get on with it.

But I've seen that people agitate each other sometimes. And I've seen the opposite. I've seen someone calm other people just by their calm way of being there, quiet and still and available, listening, people finally being able to settle. So it is the same thing inside of ourselves. If the whole inner mental landscape is agitated and we're trying to use that inner life to be mindful, then because the mindfulness, the awareness, is completely entangled with the inner agitation, it's not separate from it. The very effort to be mindful is agitated itself. So you're aware that you're agitated, but the very awareness that you're aware is agitated itself, so the two are just bouncing off each other.

The analogy I like is that if what you're paying attention to is agitated and the awareness is agitated, they touch each other and bounce off just like this. They recoil, they bounce off, and the contact is not very nice, like, "Give me a break, no wonder I want to get away," and it just keeps everything going. I see sometimes dogs on leashes with their people. We live on a street with a lot of dog walkers, and sometimes the dog parents—or whatever they're called now—are talking, and the dogs are growling and ferocious and trying to get at each other, but they're not giving up. Sometimes the people will say, "Calm down, it's okay," but it doesn't seem to help. The only thing that helps is that finally they finish their conversation and take them away, and then the dogs calm down. But as long as they're there with each other, they are just activated.

It can be that way inside of ourselves. We touch something which is agitated with an agitated mind, and it's not a very good contact. Of course you don't want to be mindful. Of course you don't want to meditate. It's just not pleasant. It's difficult. Ideally, one thing begins to calm so that the thing that's agitated meets that calm, meets the thing that's still or quiet. With the analogy of the hands and the fingers, as things calm down, this beautiful and very profound thing can happen: the hands come together flat. This is pleasant. This is warm, soft, tender to have the flat of the hands touch each other as opposed to having the fingertips strike each other.

The same thing happens within us. Something within us—the awareness that knows, that is present—and whatever we're aware of all calms down together until even the idea of a subject and object distinction begins to fall away in this intimate contact where things come together calmly here.

So to notice how it is that you're being aware, how is it you're being mindful in meditation? Are you bringing with you your agitation? Are you bringing with you anxiety and bouncing off? It's more like you're poking at things or you're holding back and just being upset. Or sometimes what's happening inside is something inside of us is closed. And so it's not that agitation is meeting agitation, but agitation is meeting something that is closed, and it's equally unpleasant bouncing off of. That is not so useful either. There, too, is there something that's not busy, something that's calm that can come and just hold what is closed, hold it as long as it needs to be held, as long as we care for it? And then slowly, maybe something begins to open and relax because of that support, because of that calm presence that's there.

So the idea of the one who is not busy, the place that's not busy. Can you discover what that is in you? Is it a place, or is it everywhere? Is it in the nature of a global feeling of awareness? Or is it some inner place of knowing or stillness from which it seems to be the core where awareness comes from or presence comes from? Or maybe there's just a place inside for you that feels like, "This is the deepest place, the deepest home I have." Maybe it's just a square millimeter in size, but even that is meaningful. Maybe it's more important to stay in touch with that than to stay in touch with the square mile of agitation that you have. What is that place? Can you feel your way?

When you sit down to meditate, for example, where is it calmest in you? You might notice sometimes when you sit down to meditate the strong pull into the place of agitation. Agitation, anxiety can have a lot of authority over us. It can be assertive. It can feel like this is the end of the world if I don't pay attention to it. This is where the mind gets pulled into the allure of fear, of agitation, of doing, of fulfilling to-do lists, and being in a hurry. To recognize that not as a problem, not as something to be agitated even more about, not as something to be aversive to, but to have compassion and care. Something different is needed here. What is that different thing? Can I find a place inside where I can know calmly? To have a calm awareness of agitation. Calm awareness of being not calm. Is that possible?

There are a few ways that can be done in mindfulness meditation. One is some people will use what's called mental notes. They'll use a one-word note that represents what they're paying attention to. So if you're hearing a sound, you might use the word _listening_ or _sound_. If you're paying attention to the breathing, the inhale, you might just say quietly the word _in_ or _out_. Or the classic way we were taught in Burma was as the belly goes out to say _rising_, belly goes back in say _falling_. If there's sadness, say _sadness_. If there's anger, say _anger_. If there's agitation, say _agitation_.

A number of things happen there with those mental notes. The mental note is not the thing that's being noted, and it can create a little bit of distance, a little bit of freedom from it. But also what's very effective is that you can pay attention to _how_ you say the mental note. I've noticed in myself when I first started doing this, sometimes I was in a hurry to say it. Like I had to say it quickly and get on with it, and it was like a checklist approach to mindfulness. I'd say it, and done with that, and then I can daydream and come back. Or sometimes the idea was like I had to do as many as possible—the more notes per minute, the better, kind of rapid-fire. Or sometimes it was the bazooka approach: if I just named it really powerfully, it would blow it out of existence. All kinds of strange things I saw. I could see in the noting that I had these deeper attitudes that weren't useful.

I also learned to adjust how I note, to note spaciously, to note calmly. "Oh, anger. Anxious. Oh, look at this. Oh, hurry. I'm in a hurry. Wow." [Laughter] Somehow this inner landscape is where you have some choice. Try to shift it. Imagine that you've come into a library, or imagine you come to IMC[^1] on a Sunday morning, and everyone's already meditating. Okay, I should be quiet. And so something in you gets quiet and slow. Sometimes mental noting is a great tool, if you note calmly, then things begin to meet with some calmness.

Some people don't use noting, but there is a knowing, a cognitive knowing going on, a recognition of what's happening. Can you adjust that recognition, that knowing, so there's a calm knowing? Calmly knowing sound, calmly knowing the breath? Some people, their primary way of being mindful is not knowing, but is feeling, sensing. Can you sense calmly? Is there something inside of you that allows you to take time? "Okay, let me sense this. Let me feel it."

Sometimes I view a moment of mindfulness as the beginning rather than the end of a process, the beginning of a journey. If I notice that I'm breathing in, I might say _in_, or I might just notice it, but I say, "Okay, now that I notice it, the job's not over." Sometimes you think, "Thank you, I did my job, I'm mindful, I noticed it. I'll just wait around till the out-breath comes and know that." I note my in-breath at the beginning, and then there's a second or moments long enough to get into some interesting thought, and then I forget to notice the out-breath. But to see it as a beginning: notice the beginning of the in-breath, and then stay there to notice the journey, what happens with that breath or that experience.

To hear a sound, don't just notice the sound and be done with it, but rather know sound, and then what is it like to experience that sound? What happens? How is that received? How is that registered? What shifts and changes as I listen to the sound? So these are all ways of beginning to shift so we can introduce some degree of calm awareness, calm attention into the field.

What I'm suggesting is, to some degree, you have a choice. You're not the victim of your agitation, that everything has to go along with it. There might be some place when you answer the question, "Who is it that's not busy? Who is it that's not in a hurry? What is it that's not agitated?" It's something you have to enact. You have to contribute it with a choice. The choice of a certain kind of interaction: the interaction of how to be aware, how to note, how to be present. Maybe the interaction of what you do with your posture. Is there some way of having a calm posture that allows you to stay still and not move your body? Sitting and meditating, tapping your knees with your fingers probably means that there's an inner agitation that's taken over; it's not really going to calm you. But if you notice you're tapping your fingers against your knees, stop. Be still. Be quiet.

I remember the first time I did something with agitation, I had so much fun. I was restless, really restless. I got really interested in the restlessness in my body, and I imagined the restlessness was a ping-pong ball that was just bouncing off the walls inside of my body. Just that idea allowed me to be really still and to watch. And the watching was not restless. The watching was just fascinating. "Wow, there's a lot of energy in there. Wow, it's bouncing off like crazy. Boy, do I feel like I want to bolt." But it was all being held by this wide open body of space and this curiosity. "What is this? This is fascinating." That was what allowed it all to settle. It took about half an hour, but that was a half an hour well spent. I could see from time to time during that half an hour there was this pull to get involved in the restlessness, to believe it, to get involved in the restless thoughts. But I said, "No, no, just watch. Just watch. See it." And then I quieted down and settled.

So, to introduce into your practice, if you're agitated, find inside of you: where is the one who is calm? Where is the one who's not busy? And if you can't find some place inside that's a refuge of calm, a support for stillness, do you have a capacity for choice to choose a way of being that introduces some modicum of calm? Maybe it's the way that you note that you're aware. Maybe it's the way you feel. Maybe it's the way you hold the experience. "I'm just going to hold it, the way I'm present for my experience. Let's offer a calm presence."

Maybe it's your choice to do loving-kindness. Maybe what's really needed when there's a lot of agitation is compassion or kindness, and so we have a practice of loving-kindness. Can you race through loving-kindness because you have more important things to do? No. Not if what you want to do is let the loving-kindness be a calming influence on your agitation, on your anxiety. Then do loving-kindness slowly, calmly, peacefully. Introduce calm.

And if this is something you can't do for yourself, and if meditation is not the place for it, then there are other ways. Go for a walk. Go for a walk in a calm place. Find a place in a grove of trees that's nice. Go for a walk with a calm friend. Take a shower. Take a nap. Listen to calm music. Maybe read a book that takes you out of it all, so that you get into a different mood and state of mind, because sometimes there's wise distraction that's useful to do.

So the one who is not busy: who is that for you, or the place that's not busy? What reference point do you have for this idea?

## Reflections

So with that, maybe some of you will want to share a little bit about it. We'll take about five to seven minutes for those of you who'd like to talk to each other. You can introduce yourself to the people near you, and maybe that's all you do and chat a little bit informally. If this topic is of interest, you could share a little bit about what occurs to you about "the one who's not busy." Was something useful there in this teaching? In about six minutes or so, I'll ring the bell, and we'll come back and have a little bit of discussion as a whole group, and then those of you staying will stay for the potluck. Everyone's welcome to stay.

Of course, if you don't want to be here to talk to someone, you're welcome to go in a moment, and that's understandable. What some people choose to do is stay, but they don't want to talk, and they'll stay meditating. Everyone knows if you close your eyes, this is the place to do it. I think some people report it's really nice actually to sit quietly meditating with all these sounds of voices around. So everything's an option. But what I'd like you to do is turn to someone near you, turn to two people, maybe groups of three, and also look around, make sure that no one's left alone, because sometimes people turn accidentally away from one person and then they're not with anyone. Just look around and make sure everyone's included. Please.

[Laughter]

Thank you. There was a technique that they used at my kids' kindergarten class. The teacher would start telling a story, and as they started telling the story, the kids would slowly start to get quiet because it was so interesting. So you see, if you talk quietly enough, really quietly, then people will eventually begin to get curious. "What's going on?" And they'll quiet down.

I'm often quite reluctant to ring the bell because the conversation sounds so happy and engaging, but I did say we're going to stop a little bit before and get ready for the potluck. But we have a few minutes. Would anybody like to make a comment on this topic or ask a question?

## Q&A

**Speaker 1:** Hello, my name is Sylvie. I was having this really intense discussion with Barry, and I was telling him how I was trying to find the one who is not busy in my really intense day that's aggravated by AI. [Laughter] Everyone knows this. He had this concept that I would not have thought about in a million years, and he told me, "Try to add randomness to your day." And so I would like you to comment because it just sounds so right, the relationship between mindfulness and randomness in that context.

**Gil Fronsdal:** Randomness. Yes, I love the idea. Make room for the unexpected. Make room for something new. Make room for what you don't know. Yeah, I think that's very nice. I live a life that's often surprised. I don't know if it has to do with randomness, I don't use that word for myself much, but I just delight in how often I'm surprised in my day. All kinds of things come that I didn't expect, I didn't know about. And really, "Wow, that too is just part of a day." This idea of just being surprised a lot—so maybe that's a flip side of randomness is to be surprised.

**Speaker 1:** Yes. I mean, I'm realizing that in my day I'm very structured, and I fill a lot of things in the day. But I was thinking, okay, I take five minutes or a three-minute breath journey or something, and that's kind of enough, but the idea of having... let's say I work from eight to ten, and at ten I have this randomness moment. [Laughter] Follow me here, I'm still keeping my structure. [Laughter] But within that structure, I really like the idea of doing something that was unexpected instead of my to-do list.

**Gil Fronsdal:** Nice. Very nice. I love it. Yes.

**Speaker 2:** Hi. I don't live here, but I'm part of the online sangha[^2], and so I got to spend some time with Jan and Barry and stuff like that. While I've been visiting here, I'm about to go on retreat with Matthew and then with you later on. I'm feeling a lot of tenderness right now because in Anchorage, Alaska, where I live, there's not really a sangha. What helps me feel calm and safe is a sangha like this, you know, and in Anchorage, I don't know where I can quite find that. It feels wonderful online, I'm so glad for the offerings you guys have online, but it's not quite the same as in person. This feeling.

**Gil Fronsdal:** Yeah, I agree that it's a little bit too loud here for me. [Laughter] I agree, it's more difficult alone. It's hard not to have a community. It's a great support having sangha, and I can't imagine how much I've benefited from the dharma[^3] without the community around me. So I can understand that. But I also know that it's a great practice to do it alone too. Some of the most profound experiences I had in the dharma were found when alone. And then the task for me was how can I bring this sense of intimacy, this sense of integrity, into my community life, into the world? The question that I literally had for many years was, "How can I be alone with others?" It might not sound nice, it sounds worse than it actually was. [Laughter] But that was the question. How could I be with others and have this inner integrity, this inner wholeness that allowed me to be there fully, in the way I was before I couldn't be? Anyway, I wish you well. I'm so glad you came, and come back. Maybe you'll start a sitting group up there.

**Speaker 3:** I just wanted to add, can you hear me? Hi. I once asked that question to Gil when I came to the area new, that I was looking for sangha, and one of the things that really changed my perspective was your answer, which was, "Everyone is your sangha." That was so profound to me that it just changed how I viewed my role in my own practice.

**Gil Fronsdal:** Fantastic. Everyone is your sangha. Yes, it's true. Maybe one last comment over there.

**Speaker 4:** Yeah. When we talked about randomness, what we discussed in our group was _more_ structure. [Laughter] So in my practice, and I think another person also said this, if our mind is agitated when you start meditation, start counting. I start counting from one to ten, and down to ten, and do that three times. Obviously, your mind wanders; when you count to five your mind is on something. Sometimes you're counting but thinking of things. And then you're disciplined by punishing basically—you start from zero again, and you keep doing that. Over time, you get to thirty, and then you're really, really calm.

**Gil Fronsdal:** Great. Yes. Fantastic. I counted to ten for years and years in meditation. That's how I was taught to do Zen practice. And there, too, I learned that _how_ I counted was important. So I would count in a calm way. If I had all the time in the world, then the next day I would just in a relaxed way... it wasn't a checklist that I would count my breath. I would count my exhale, and the sound of the count would fill the whole exhale. Like in my mind: _one_... so almost like a mantra... _two_... anyway. That's what I did. Thank you.

Okay. Well, thank you very much, and let's bring our calm to potluck or to the world. And in a few minutes, there'll probably be a circle out there, and please enjoy the company. Of course, you didn't have to bring anything; the food is just an excuse to be together. Thank you.

---

[^1]: **IMC:** Insight Meditation Center, a meditation center in Redwood City, California where Gil Fronsdal is the primary teacher.

[^2]: **Sangha:** A Pali and Sanskrit word meaning "association," "assembly," "company," or "community." In Buddhism, it usually refers to the community of practitioners.

[^3]: **Dharma:** A key concept in Buddhism with multiple meanings, most commonly referring to the teachings of the Buddha or the nature of reality.