Returning to Practice....After a Time Away

After a time, my practice dwindled.  Now, it's time to return.

There are many things that can derail a householder practice:  family obligations, a job, the ten thousand things of living in the world, health issues, and these days - electronic distraction.  We are all likely to fall off the cushion for one or more of these.  For me it has been caring for elderly parents, professional obligations, a broken ankle, an iPhone, and fatigue borne of all of these.  Practice fell away over several years.

Bodhidharma likely foresaw many of these, but I would particularly like to hear what the bearded barbarian would say about our present-day electronic distractions.  This seems applicable:

“But people of the deepest understanding look within, distracted by nothing. Since a clear mind is the Buddha, they attain the understanding of a Buddha without using the mind.” - Bodhidharma

And so, today, I return.  For encouragement, I have colored in one eye of a Japanese Daruma doll (達磨).  The tradition is to color in one eye when you make a vow to persevere in some endeavor, and
the other when you have achieved it.  The irony is not lost on me, as the Heart Sutra says: "Attainment too is emptiness".  So the other eye will never be colored in.  And yet, it is a way to mark intentionality of re-starting on the Path, although you don't ever leave it.

The Way Is Not Straight

There is no one true path, but all paths are on the Way.  As householders, our travels along the Way are are often crooked and interrupted.  There are obligations to loved ones, profession, and the craziness of living-in-the-world.  Committing to daily practice is difficult, and getting side-tracked is common.  When I first began, counting the breath up to 10 without my mind drifting away was almost impossible.  Sometimes it still is.  Sitting every day has been challenging, and there are stretches where I have been "off-mat" for weeks.  Today, in my 50th year, I am striving to sit zazen each day for a year, 365 days.

Sleeping Cat Zazen

 

Curled up in a ball on the cushion

No doubt, no striving

Sleeping cat zazen 

No going back

Visiting my parents, the house where I grew up.  They have aged, the neighborhood has aged, and I have aged.  Walking by the pond, red-wing blackbirds trilling in the evening, memories floating washing over me...  8 years old, listening to the red-wing blackbirds at the pond....  Mu.....

Not Dead Yet

 

A good friend is dying of cancer.  Seeing her struggle with the problem of birth and death is, in some way, her gift to all of us around her.  What a price for this gift!

 

When she says "I am afraid", she is the fear.  When she suffers from physical pain, she is the pain.  When she cries saying "I will miss my children", she is impermanence.  

 

When I say "Then what am I?", I do not even see the finger pointing at the sunset.