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.