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.

Nori and Shari Ulrich with the Getting Higher Choir

Just got back from a wonderful day. A sit in Sooke with a talk by Ven. Eshu which for me thankfully clarified the use of the words right and wrong, good and bad. Another way to think of them is skillful means and unskillful means. This is so liberating in that it takes away the judgement and directs us to look at the results of actions. Actually not the topic of the talk but a lovely revelation for me.

Then a car pool ride into town (always a highlight since we get to catch up with each other on the trip to and from Sooke).

We were dropped off at my mom's where we walked together down to the Alix Goolden hall. There we heard Nori sing and about 300 other people and also some professional musicians. The concert was all about heart. Denis and Shivon and the Choir skillfully opened our hearts, moved many to tears, then put us back together with a gentle prayer song and sent us on our way. The feelings evoked by the songs were powerful and painful but what an honour to share them in community. Feeling together the highs and the lows of life brings such richness to our lives.

The concert raised thousands of dollars for the Power of Hope.

Thank you mom for taking us. Thank you Nori for singing! and thank you to Venerable Eshu for continuing to point the way.

Dana meeting tonight

I'm looking forward to the dana meeting tonight. It seems full of possibility.

I see this evening as an opportunity to practise joyful giving, to let go of my habit of coming from fear, from what if this or what if that? All I have (if have is the right word) is this moment, the future is unknown. I'm happy to be part of a practise that supports sinking into this moment trustingly, and also fearlessly taking responsibility for the future outcomes of my actions stemming from this moment.

We will meet to share a meal, to give and to receive a meal together in community. We'll each come from wherever we are (you know the variety of life- busy, anxious, happy, grudging, stuck, angry, virtuous, bubbly, vacant, whatever) and have a huge opportunity to be in our hearts, acknowledge the importance of the zen centre and our practice in our lives, and stretch a lot as a community to give back to the centre.

It's happened in the past and it could happen again tonight...

Soshin

V.Eshu's moving company

Hi Everyone,
The one day intensive yesterday... had power dark and deep indeed.

Today I feel refreshed and lighter.

Some people use the metaphor of the person as a house and the personality as the arrangement of the furniture on the inside. I feel like a moving truck has taken some of the excess furniture away. And there's more yet to go.

Going, going, always going.
Thank you Sangha, thank you Venerable Eshu

The poem Robert Frost never wrote

Sesshin on a Snowy Evening

Whose house this is I do not know.
He might think that we're crazy though;
To sit for days atop his rug
Staring at the floor plug.

My workmates think it's awfully queer
To take my work holiday time here
Getting up at 4 AM
And sitting still for hours on end.

"But wait!" I futilely explain,
"There's cake at end of day, and also
The beauty of the sound of rain. And have I mentioned
What strength comes from letting go into pain?"

They give their heads a shake
And think that I'm a hippie flake.
Admittedly on dark mornings
I think they're right, this is a mistake.

But sesshin has power, dark and deep
And there are vows we want to keep,
When we are dead there's time to sleep.
When we are dead there's time to sleep.