Still Sitting On Sunday

In the morning light, heart decals on the window shape a shadow on the golden wood of the butsodan/fireplace/room divider/Wall of Buddhas.

Incense drifts through my line of vision like wispy scented clouds.

A raucous murder of crows chant sutras in a foreign language.

In kinhin, the crunch, crunch, crunch, sqlch, sqlch of feet punctuates the air as we walk as one.

Inside I dance with my sadness, embrace my fears, weep with my heart and then find peace and joy in the tears rolling down my cheeks and the drip drip from my nose into my cupped hands.

Here now, silently supported by the still presence of sisters and brothers, sitting as one.

I live on Faithful Street.

Dana and Peer Support

It was the day after our peer support meeting and I was still awash in that wonderful feeling of friendship and support that follows those meetings. It dawned on me, as I was out walking our dog, how interconnected peer support and dana was for me.

I had been reluctant to join the dana group when it initally started up. Having been caught up in the pre-retirement mode of thinking for the past decade, I was consumed with saving my pennies for my old age, hyper vigilant that I would have `enough'. Once I joined, it became easy to give, especially since I was surrounded by individuals whose values of generosity and support for practice were what I aspired to.

Back to the interconnectedness between peer support and dana - I realized that preparation for reitrement should not be just a monetary pursuit but should also include developing supportive and enriching relationships to ensure that we are cared for and have meaning in our lives as we age. what would old age be with money but no friends? What if there was no one to take us to appointments or join us for coffee? Or bring us meals when we're sick?

Insurance for a meaningful life is what belonging to the peer support and dana group signifies for me.

Myoshin

This Moment

These days there is a shiny quality to the moments of this life. It is as if that which I see is in sharper focus, that which I hear has a fuller depth and more range, the experience of food is a regular potpourri of flavours and textures, smells distinct yet not, the feel of clothes on the skin, the textures and their insulating properties ... vivid and clear in a harmonized dance that is this moment. Reminding the mind to settle down like a child bored and desperate for attention, I realize wordlessly, that all of this is happening all the time. There is absolutely nothing that I need to do that will make this moment more wonder-filled. All that is needed, if I so choose, is to be present for it.

Goodbye old man

Last summer I posted on this blog about going to Vancouver to say goodbye to my 94-year-old grandfather. Stubborn guy that he was, last July he rallied and fought off the kidney infection that was expected to be the end last summer. Today he died at age 95, according to the care home staff peacefully and without pain, just slipping away in his sleep.

There has been lots of laughter and tears tonight remembering his strong and quirky character, coming to terms with the simultaneous appreciation of no-birth, no-death from experiences in practice (including practice being with him in our last visits) and also not wanting to let go of the physical experience of his body, to rub his shiny bald head and smell his old man/new baby smell and hold his hands in a way that is no longer possible.

Over the years Zeyds wrote many extremely bad poems for us kids, laboriously plonking them out on a typewriter nearly as old and as cranky as he was. They often included Yiddish curses or at the very least reference to life as a sexually transmitted disease. Shortly after I was arrested at a logging blockade in the Walbran valley he let me know Zeyds-style how simultaneously proud and annoyed he was with the whole spectacle:

Hug a tree, Hug a tree, Hug a tree, Goldberg,
Into the valley of Walbran rode she,
To save all the forests, and get me a tree.
So when I need toothpicks,
We'll know where they be.

Goodbye old man. I miss you. Thank you for everything.

Satisfaction... Can't Get. Uh, whatever.

When I described to some non-zen-practicing friends what took place during the recent weekend intensive at Queenswood, they pretty much stared at me like I had two heads. "What was the purpose? What did you get out of it?" Well, most folks reading this will know that it's pretty hard to come up with an answer to those questions that will mean anything to the askers. It's like the answer to the question "What is jazz?" If you have to ask, you won't understand the answer. If you could understand the answer, you wouldn't need to ask.
But something did strike me that might sort of answer the questions.
On Sunday evening, still terribly sleep-deprived, I drove up to the Langford bus exchange to pick up my daughter Yuki. As I sat in the car, I realized I'd forgotten my cellphone, so I wouldn't be able to check with her about when her bus would be arriving. There are times when that might cause me a teeny touch of anxiety. But not on Sunday. I was fine just sitting in the car. I mean, you have to physically exist somewhere. A dark car by a Langford road is as good a place as any.
I turned on the radio. The Stone's "Satisfaction" started up. I smiled a big smile. I realized that for the first time I appreciated what that song was about. It's all about the second of the four noble truths, and I smiled and smiled, maybe because, for at least that moment, I was not sharing Mick Jagger's angst in the least. Can't get no satisfaction? Ah well. Let go of it Mick. Let go of it. Even if you got it, you couldn't hang on to it. It's like trying to catch the wind, buddy.

Way to go Soshin!

Today Soshin was interviewed by a panel from the Interfaith Chaplain's office as the next step towards becoming the UVic Buddhist Chaplain. She rocked the interview and is now proceeding to the next step. Way to go Soshin, thank you for your courage in offering to fill this position and for all that you bring to the sangha. When we do our "what inspired us in 2010" at the first 2011 Dana meeting this will for sure be on the list! You're a wonderful role model in how you practice and how you live your life.