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.

The Big Sit

OK....just when I judge the digital world bad for zazen, my judging good and bad comes back to bite me. Tricycle magazine is sponsoring a version of ango, the traditional 3 month monastic retreat. This digital version is particularly suited to householders and others who practice outside of a structured monastic environment: The Big Sit. During a 3 month period starting on February 23, you can commit to:

• Sit in formal meditation for 20 minutes each day.
• Listen to one dharma talk each week on tricycle.com.
• Study Dogen’s Genjokoan, the text selected for the period.
• Commit to the sixteen bodhisattva precepts.
• Practice with others at tricycle.com or at a local meditation center.

I think that attempting this kind of consistent commitment, for a limited time, can bolster one's practice. To feel connected to the larger sangha, even electronically, might help even more. It seems worth doing.

Find Time, Sit Zazen

Morning
When the house is still
Evening
When children are in bed
Sit zazen

Before coffee
After a kiss
Before work
After dishes
Sit zazen

As koi
In still water
Like water
Gliding past koi
Sit zazen

Sesshin

"Even as night darkens the green earth, the wheel turns.
Death follows birth.
Strive as you sleep with every breath,
that you may wake past day, past death !"

Sesshin was bone-chilling cold. Makes you want to crawl into yourself and hibernate in zazen. I wonder if Bodhidharma's cave was in a place that had decent weather. A week is a long time to be away from family. I suspect that few of us householders with families have the luxury of attending a long sesshin more than occasionally, if at all. Zen, with its roots in monastic practice, is not an easy path for householders. Yet, this is where I am, in this very house, with this family, and this practice. Tonight, I am happy to be home, and to be more fully present for my family. Re-charged, I am resolute in finding a way to make my householder practice work better.

Sesshin and Family

I am going to sesshin next week, a rare opportunity to deepen my practice in an intense and uninterrupted manner. As those of you who are householders know, especially if you have a family with children, attending sesshin entails a large sacrifice by your partner. I have not seen this addressed by contemporary Zen writing very often, and then usually with a short suggestion to talk with your partner. Negotiating the time away can be an emotional process, especially if one has a job that requires travel or long weekend hours away from the family. I have found little about the potential for resentment at being left with the kids, the difficulty explaining why you need to leave for a week and not speak to the family, how to explain your absence to children, and the strain it may place on the marriage/partnership.

One particular concern that has come up in my family is worry about how will I change . Will I be the same husband/father when I return? Zen writing and fiction is not necessarily comforting for the partner left behind, often speaking of how one should say good-bye before sesshin as if you will not return (as the same person or at all?). How to explain all this, especially if your spouse/partner does not practice zazen? My hope is that after sesshin, I will be a better husband and father, more aware of this moment with my family. But they do not know that this will be the outcome.

I think that outward compassion for their suffering and uncertainty in the weeks prior to your own leave-taking is a beginning.

I would be interested in how others have handled this challenge.

Post Script: A few helpful links -

Preparing for sesshin - Sensei Sunyana Graef,
Toronto Zen Center
Family Practice - Sensei Nicolee Jikyo McMahon,
Three Treasures Zen Community, San Diego
Pre- and Post Sesshin Guidelines - Windhorse Zen Community,
North Carolina

Taking what is given

What is given is sometimes a thing, a path, a desire. With children, taking what is given can be trying. As a householder and parent, you want to help them understand that cruelty, disdain, and slander are not appropriate offerings. At one level, this is certainly not taking what is given. But what does this precept truly mean? Surely not taking destructive acts? Perhaps it means taking what is offered, as it is offered, in the exact spirit, and working with that rather than what you hoped would be given. Then, when your children see the anger taken as anger, absorbed, and returned as something transformed, you become a living lesson by example. When they see love taken, filtered through the anger at one's bad day, and returned hewn by that anger, oblivious to their true offering, that too is a lesson. Take what is given, return it transformed, and let compassion and choiceless flow along the path determine the transformation.

Boil water, Put the kids to bed, Sit zazen

I just finished reading Jeff Wilson's essay in Tricycle "Meditation: a rare practice" discussing how rare zazen practice is for householders in most Buddhist cultures, including Japan. It puts a new perspective on the Western householder practice. Emphasizing zazen as a foundation of householder practice seems to be a new and particularly Western practice. The struggle to balance householder life and zazen is being lived out as a great experiment in our time and place, and we do not yet know the outcome. I am not sure how I feel about this new information. On the one hand, it is daunting to think that zazen practice has perhaps been tried by other householders in far more supportive cultures and not taken root. On the other hand, it is exciting that we live in a time and place where we have the luxury of building sanghas around this Zen experiment. Boil water, put the kids to bed, sit zazen.

Lessons from our Children

Householders with children have the advantage of seeing the world anew through their children's eyes. A few years ago, one of my kids did something that she knew she was not supposed to. Discussing the "event" at bedtime, she succinctly described that sinking feeling. "You know when you aren't supposed to do something, and then you just did it?" Yes, that jolt of eyes-wide-open clarity after action and before consequences. Children seeing karma clearly. In zazen, I am re-learning to immerse my "self" in that flash of bright stillness.

In The Bunker

My daughter said it best the other day. "Winter makes me want to hibernate like a bear!" It is grey here most of the winter, in addition to the snow. Some mornings it is hard to get to the zendo at 5:45 AM, and I madly dash to get my robe on before the strike of the han.

Thanks to comments on previous posts, I am again looking at all those ten-thousand householder things as integral to practice and the Way. As Dogen said, the point of doing zazen is not just to do zazen. Life is zazen is mu is practice. Be mu in every one of those ten thousand things. Hard to realize that sometimes. Gassho!

Snow

The family is house-bound today with the heavy snow, making it hard to find any space/time for zazen. The house is small, and we use every room. Besides, I always feel a bit guilty sitting when the kids are awake and want time.

I slept in this morning, and by the time I was awake, so were the kids. Waffles and toast replaced zafu and mu. I know that mu is not separate from waffles and toast, but I have not seen this with my mind's eye. Nevertheless, householder practice is punctuated by such interruptions. Siddhartha Guatama took leave of his family to search for enlightenment, leaving such disturbances behind. He never returned. Sometimes I wonder if a practice founded on such a base can possibly succeed for a householder. Must leave-taking precede insight?

Contrast the monastic approach with that of the householder Dipa Ma, a householder, mother, and Buddhist teacher/master.

Children and the Dharma of Change

Children embody the dharma of change, and transmit that dharma mind-to-mind to their householder parents. I experience this most acutely when some new hungry ghost appears in my house. Who switched my kid? Or more directly, who is this child now? Who? The Dharma of Change stands before you, persistent and noisy, demanding that you be mindful of it. Wake up, look, show me mu! This often appears as some new attachment, desire, or aversion. But when I watch closely, the thing that I assumed was a poison changes, and my child is again transformed. Even the meta-patterns of these transformations change. We were all once these children, and still are. Thus manifests one unique benefit of parent-householder practice, reality bonking me over the head with a stuffed animal, even though I would like to hide from that reality by doing zazen in the zendo right now. Like our children, we all walk on the Path, even if we do not know it.

Travel Practice

About once a month I travel. When it is for work, I often have some time for solitude, and am able to sit more often then I can at home. But I miss my family (still working on attachment...). I have found that planes are ideal for zazen: the drone of the engine, no pagers, cell phones, or e-mail. A flying monastic retreat. For sitting in the hotel, I have a great inflatable cushion, which is really a beachball in a zafu cover (no kidding!). But when I travel with family, finding a time and place to do zazen is almost impossible, even with a beachball zafu. After coming home, it takes several days to get back into my schedule. The balance is not easy.

NOTE:  See my more recent post for how to make your own travel zafu.

Householder Zazen

As a householder, finding space for zazen is hard. The distractions and demands of family and work make it difficult. Most teachers recommend setting aside a special space for zazen, uncluttered, light, and free of distractions. I suspect they have no children, nor live in a smaller house. Perhaps fitting, my cushion and mat are in nestled in a family area, facing a curtained window, with my back to the scattered toys. My children's schedule changes, and so! The time set aside for zazen is taken by a different obligation. Ho! Time to beg for new space.