A work in progress

I generally give a lot of thought to the topics I post here before sharing those thoughts with the world. Be forewarned, that's not necessarily the case today. I'm here in rawness but I hope it's something that might make you think as you read, and that will help cement my own thoughts a bit more.

First of all, if you have ever faced a long setback in your meditation practice, if you have feared that perhaps the ability to meditate and look inwards and see the truth has disappeared and left you floundering, I am here to say, don't give up!  If it's something you care about deeply, desire strongly even while unable to make it happen, don't give up! I've recently begun meditating again after over 3 years of frustration. I had a block -- a bad block. I know where and when it happened, could pinpoint it to the day and hour. I know what seems to have caused it, but I don't know why it put a stop to my interest in and ability to meditate. I just know it did. I tried and tried, to no avail. But now, finally, that block seems to be gone. I'm creeping back into sitting on the cushion for long periods of time. Everything I knew is coming back. Slowly. So please, don't give up!

But here's what I sat down to say today, and I'm going to probably say it wrong. Please forgive me for that, in advance.  Looking inside again, at least in the Buddhist way of doing so, really wakes up the sensitivities to what's going on in one's own mind and how one relates to other people. It's so easy to blame other people for perceived faults and that's something I'm guilty of and have been guilty of for undoubtedly my entire life. But I'm just concerned with today, the present. The past is beyond change and the future is beyond control, so I'm looking at what's happening in my mind in the present. As I've often found when I do that, what I see isn't pretty.

Oh, for the most part I'm content enough with what is there. I've spent a lot of intense years in this practice looking honestly at the workings of this mind and making diligent effort to eradicate the unwholesome aspects and encourage the wholesome, positive aspects. I've made a lot of progress and I'm grateful for that. But what I've found over and over across the span of those years is that there are always new issues, new nuances that rise to the surface because our minds never stop coming up with thoughts. What I've learned is that if we want to walk seriously along this path we have to understand the concept of letting most of those thoughts go as quickly as they arise, because they are just random thoughts, products of the mind and not who we are deep down inside. If negative issues from your past continue to come to mind, letting go is essential. The more attention we pay to these kinds of thoughts, the more we'll see of them. Ignoring them works best.  At other times, though, we have to look more deeply. We have to be honest with ourselves, whether we like what we see or not. Mostly in cases like this, we won't like what we see at all, but that's how we grow, how we take another step down the path.

Without going into detail I'll just say that when we find ourselves looking at another person's perceived personality flaws, even if you've had this viewpoint for years, it doesn't hurt to look inside to see if we are not also 'guilty' of whatever it is that we see in that other person that we don't like. Suffice it to say that I've done that over the past few days and let me tell you, it's something of a shock to realize that yes, I am guilty of the same thing (although, I believe, to a lesser degree in this instance).

Such honesty is not easy, it's not fun. We'd rather look at our positive traits, look at how we want to perceive ourselves, how our egos want to perceive ourselves. But it's the negative (unwholesome) traits that trip us up in life and if we really want to grow, we need to look at them in all their ugliness, with all honesty, and then make the very necessary effort to change that thing within our own heart-mind. I've found that the hardest thing is opening ourselves to seeing the ugliness. Once seen, it's hard to un-see. At that point change -- deep and lasting change -- comes fairly easily. The ego takes a blow, yes, but it recovers. And once the ugliness is seen and replaced with something wholesome (perhaps compassion for the other person's suffering as well as compassion for your own suffering), I find that a dark spot I never knew existed ends up being replaced by lightness and yes, even a happier outlook on life in general. Permanently. A burden is lifted, but you have to see and experience the ugliness before that can happen. So don't be afraid to look at what's there, to ask questions such as 'am I guilty of the same thing I'm blaming the other person for doing'. Be honest. Be brutal. Be happier in the end.

Following right on the heels of that insight was yet another that concerns how I relate (or don't relate) to my neighbors in this building, this community, and indeed that spreads quickly to how I relate (or don't relate) to everyone I meet in this life. This one is still forming, still swirling around in the cesspool. But as unclear and dim as it is, I can clearly see that it's important. That this is yet another thing I have to face with truth and honesty and full understanding and that if I succeed in breaking through into the full truth of this one, something major is going to follow. I don't think it's going to be pretty and it certainly won't be fun, but the results should be worth the effort. I'll probably write more about this as it coalesces into something less subtle, more substantial.

The first insight, about being guilty of what I blame others for doing,  is still a work in process for me but I can see the picture clearly, know what has to be done, and know that it can be done. I've asked the question and seen the answer, have even accepted the answer as the truth. The healing will come.

The second is new territory, though I've faced many other 'new territories' in the past and know that they take longer to come together into something that can be worked with. I also know that it will come together and that it can be worked with. Right now, that's enough. Sea changes of this kind are bigger and deeper and cannot be rushed. There is much swirling around in this heart-mind today, and that's a good thing.

The profundity of choice

One of the most profound, most defining, moments in my life came about 15 years ago when I was reading (for the umpteenth time) portions of Gary Zukav's book, The Seat of the Soul. I remember so clearly -- sitting in my car eating lunch in Eastsound, Orcas Island, WA.  I no longer have the book so I can't quote exactly, nor can I explain why this short passage resonated so strongly with me in that moment. But it did. I think that sometimes things simply enter our consciousness at the time we're ready to hear it, and when we most need it. I'm open to better explanations if anybody wants to offer one up.

What Gary said, paraphrased, is that we have a choice in every moment how we feel, how we react, what our outlook on life is for that moment. The proverbial light bulb lit up for me as the words sunk in. At the time, I was struggling with deep, deep, clinical depression and had been for about 20 years. My body didn't react well to most anti-depressants and their side effects, and most seemed to have little effect on the depression. I fought feelings about death being the best solution, although I never reached that suicidal moment where I actually tried to die. There was a really close moment in early 2000, not long before I moved to Orcas. A moment that scared me for its intensity. Had I been somewhere I could have done something, I think I would have. Fortunately for me, I was sitting in a theater watching some kind of ballet performance, with my housemate. By the time the performance was over, the intensity had passed and my inner strength was once again in control.

I mention all that merely to illustrate the depths of my state of mind at the moment the light bulb went off. What I took from those words in that moment was that I could make a choice in every moment to not be depressed. To let go of the overwhelm, the tension and sadness, for that moment. To feel the relief, find a little sunshine and change my outlook for that moment. I thought deeply about this while I finished lunch, then began putting the idea into action. I found that yes, I actually could make that choice. The relief from the overwhelm only lasted for that moment. There was no miraculous healing. But I was desperate, and thus driven to keep trying whatever I felt might work. I kept making the choice, as many moments of the day as I could manage. One moment at a time. Soon, one moment would become two moments. There were shorter time periods between the moments. They began to merge into longer moments.

Every small moment of success fed hope, and hope dislodges hopelessness. I was on the right track and I persevered until enough moments merged together, over and over again, until I felt that I, not the depression, was in control of my life. It was a powerful lesson. I was still depressed, but the intensity of the depression was considerably lighter.

Fast forward a few years and I attended my very first Buddhist meditation retreat, a grueling 10-day ordeal filled with exploding emotions and searing back pain. It wasn't until the 9th day of this retreat that I made a similar discovery about choice. I was sitting in the meditation hall in the morning, and realized that while the back pain was insignificant at that early hour, I was already creating suffering by thinking about how bad it would become as the day progressed. Another light bulb moment for me about making choices in any given moment. I could choose to focus on the pain that would be coming later in the day, or I could choose to go with what was happening in that very moment. I chose the latter, and it was a huge lesson for me that has had truly profound ramifications in my life over the past 10 years.

There's an adage around that says what you focus on increases and what you ignore decreases. I don't know the source of the adage -- pop psychology, real psychology? Doesn't matter, but it's something I've found to be true, certainly. If I sit around and whine, feel sorry for myself, about something or other that's happening in my life I end up being obsessed with it, keep the tapes playing around in my mind over and over, getting more and more miserable as a result. Even if it's something I perceive as a good thing, rather than a bad thing, the obsession eventually wears off and reality intrudes.

On a simplistic level, we all also have a choice in every moment whether or not to let something bother us. It's easy to get huffy, resentful, frustrated or any of a myriad other feelings when something doesn't go the way you want it to and is out of your control. Just as easy, but requiring a little effort until it becomes a habit, is shrugging it off. Choosing not to let it bother us, then going on with life.  I use that one a lot for things like noisy neighbors and yappy dogs.

It took me a few years of Buddhist study after that 2005 retreat to begin to really understand and use the Buddhist theory of impermanence, or anicca,  which can be seen as an underlying basis for making choices in the moment. I've referenced impermanence more than once on this blog, most thoroughly in the link that's highlighted. I urge you to read this if you want to understand the theory more thoroughly.

Basically, impermanence means that nothing is permanent -- big surprise there! If we look at the world, our own lives, our own bodies with honesty we can see the truth easily. Nothing is permanent. Everything changes every day, moment-to-moment. Wanting things to be any different creates struggle and misery, because stopping change is impossible. Observing life with an open mind will show you the truth in this. For me back in 2005, it meant that depression wasn't permanent. In 2010 it meant that back pain wasn't permanent. And it meant that I could choose to not focus on these things, thus stopping the proliferation of the depression, or the back pain.

Once I actually began to really understand the Buddhist teachings on impermanence on a personal experiential level, rather than simply reading about it in a book, my life changed profoundly once again. No matter what is happening in my life, I can see it in the light of impermanence and its power over me disappears. Big things, little things. I simply choose to not focus on the negativity. Changes within the aging body (inevitable!) or frustrations with a living situation, other things that arise from day to day, are all impermanent and do not merit the waste of my energy that comes with focusing on them. Granted, some physical conditions are here to stay and more will probably come as I continue to age. I may not be able to cure or heal such afflictions, but I don't have to sink into misery by focusing on them, either. I can make other choices. The choice is all mine, free for the asking, and available in every moment.

What choices could you make in your life that could lessen your physical or emotional suffering? Look closely, openly and honestly. Ask yourself the question sincerely and if you see something, give it a try. What do you have to lose?

What you have to gain is wisdom.

Believe nothing

Many westerners seem to lump Buddhism in with other 'religions' and then reject it out of hand because of presumed dogma. I find frustration with this approach, because in conversations I find these people to be unwilling or unable to look at the subject in any way other than what they already believe. I'm hardly a spokesperson to say what Buddhism is, but one thing I can say unequivocally is that whatever it is, it's not dogma, or blind belief.

One of the first things I learned, in my first ever meditation retreat where I heard my first Buddhist teachings (a 10-day Goenka retreat many years ago), was that we should not accept the teachings blindly, that they were intended to be used experientially. They only asked that we try it with an open mind and see for ourselves whether or not the teachings and practice were beneficial to us.

Many years later when I lived in Georgia and attended a monthly half-day retreat at someone's home for about 3 years, the host always ended the retreat with the above words (from the book Beginning to See, by Sujata), which always stuck with me because of their beauty as much as because of their message. But the message is the basis of what I follow and what we are asked to follow, and the explanation far better than any words I could put together.

For most of us who approach our Buddhist practice with this philosophy, we find that the path indeed leads to good and happiness for all creatures, including ourselves first and foremost. There is no 'idol worship' involved. I've been accused of that, among other things, from a preconceived bias of another person. For most of us westerners who practice Buddhism, the draw is Buddhist psychology, which simply teaches us how to train our own mind for our own benefit, which ripples out to benefit others we encounter. It's not a religious practice.

For me, this simple bit of philosophy from the renowned Thai monk Ajahn Chah, says it all:

 The heart of the path is so simple. No need for long explanations. Give up clinging to love and hate, just rest with things as they are.

We learn to let go of unwholesome mental states such as anger, hatred, greed, attachment and judgment. We replace these with more wholesome mental states such as metta (loving-kindness), compassion, generosity, acceptance and goodwill. None of it happens overnight -- you can't simply decide to never be angry again, for example, and have that come to fruition. For most of us, it's a continual process, based in mindfulness and awareness (a relaxed, open state in which we can observe our thoughts, feelings, and behavior as they arise, without being overtaken by them), that releases the anger or other unwholesome state bit by bit until one day one becomes aware that yes, anger is gone! It comes from deep inside, not from a surface thought, and it's permanent. And it certainly does not come from believing that if we accept the principle as a dogma, the Buddha will then grant our wishes, or that some rite or ritual will be our salvation. WE are our salvation. The Buddha only taught the steps that lead us there. WE have to do the actual work to arrive at the destination, the goal, which is simply a state called true happiness.

You have to do your own work;

Enlightened Ones will only show the way.

Those who practice meditation

will free themselves from the chains of death.

Dhammapada 20.276

 
As opposed to situational happiness, which comes from circumstances in our life that bring joy for a short while, true happiness comes from releasing unwholesome states, from replacing them with wholesome states. And until you try it for yourself, you'll just have to take my word (and the word of thousands of others who've tried it) that true happiness is far, far better than any situational happiness could ever be because it's steady and lasting and always with us. We don't need outside influences to bring happiness, we only need what's inside ourselves.

As to the subject of whether or not Buddhism is a religion, I leave that to more learned folks than I. From my experience and observation, and from my earliest teaching (at the above-referenced Goenka retreat), it was impressed upon me that the teachings were non-denominational and were appropriate and non-conflicting for people from any or no religious background. It's not at all unusual to see a Catholic nun, for example, at these retreats. There was one at my first retreat. The Church does not see the teachings as conflicting with their own teachings.

A few years ago at a retreat at the Bhavana Society in West Virginia, Bhante Gunaratana was speaking in the meditation hall and brought up the question of whether Buddhism is or is not a religion. He (a Sri Lankan by birth) said that it is indeed a religion, an old and respected religion, but he also acknowledged that most westerners don't practice it as such. A friend of mine, Bhante Cintita Dinsmore of the Sitagu monastery in Austin, TX is a western monk who has written extensively on the subject from a western viewpoint. He wrote of what he called 'folk Buddhism', which came about as the Buddha's basic teachings traveled slowly from India into the various countries and cultures of southeast Asia. Here, he said, the teachings were blended with the already-existing religious cultures and became part of those religious cultures. If you are interested in his writings, visit his blog Through the Looking Glass.

A student of Buddhism will readily see that there are still differences between Burmese Buddhism, Thai Buddhism, the Buddhism of Laos and Vietnam and Sri Lanka, Malaysia and Indonesia and others, all home to Theravada Buddhism practices.  Most of southeast Asia practices Theravada Buddhism, as I do. Zen and Tibetan Buddhism have evolved into quite different and thus separate divisions of Buddhism, no longer under the Theravada umbrella. But as different as they may be, all of these follow the same core psychology and teachings of the Buddha. It's only the expression of these teachings that may vary from place to place. The Buddha himself said that he was not a god and that he was not to be worshiped. All he asked was that people follow the path to true happiness that he learned in his years of meditation and finally, his enlightenment. Meditation and a search for these things had been long-practiced in India even 2500 years ago, but he brought something new and profound to the picture and that's what made him The Buddha, as opposed to other buddha's or wise men who had come before him.

But, don't believe me, either. Try it for yourself, with an open mind and a willingness to trust that 2500 years and thousands of people who have benefited can't be all wrong. This much is required initially. A closed mind with immovable pre-conceived ideas will never budge. Give it time. Learn from people who know (don't make it up for yourself). If indeed you find that the path works, then and only then should you follow it, like the moon in the path of the stars.

Obstacle as Path, Obstacle as Goal

I learned many years ago to look at difficulties -- difficult situations, difficult people -- that arose in my life and see what I could learn from the situation or the person. There's always something to be learned in every situation, from every person. I made some of my greatest strides along this Path during two years I spent at one particular job, for example. I was fairly new to Buddhism then, but I knew enough to ask myself what I could learn, what the best response was to some difficult people in a difficult situation that I'd been asked to 'help heal' when I was hired.

How to do that? I'm not a healer, in any respect. But I'd been asked to help heal the pre-existing rifts within the business and I turned to metta, or lovingkindness, along with a strong awareness and intention away from making the situation worse through anger or hostility on my own part.  A deep awareness that I'd already begun fostering made this easier, brought the Path front and center in my own consciousness on a daily basis. I had to think before acting. I had to control my own actions and reactions. Merely doing that, and consciously sending thoughts of metta to others, helped the healing process for others and taught me a lot in the process. I had occasion to practice much of the same at a more recent job with different obstacles. Metta always works, although at times it may be difficult to sincerely offer metta to particularly difficult people! That makes it all the more important to practice.

This kind of response to difficult situations and difficult people has become automatic for me, refined by continued learning and experience.  I bring all this up because I've been facing a number of personal difficulties lately -- difficult situations and difficult relationships -- and have found that I need to dig a little deeper, remind myself what's important and what will move me further along this Path I'm following. I find that while it's easy for me to respond in a wholesome manner to one situation at a time, it's far less easy to do it when faced with a multitude!

But doesn't that make it all the more important? I think it does. And I think this is where and how I need to turn now -- have already done so, will continue to do so. Ayya Tathaaloka wrote a wonderful message this past summer on Obstacle as Path, Obstacle as Goal that really affected me at the time, and which I read again yesterday. I encourage you to do the same, as she says it so much better than I.  Much of her writing is so far above my head that I can't begin to grasp the full depths of her words, and that's the case with this one, but even though I don't grasp all of it, I grasp the central message. And that's enough for now.

What are the obstacles in your Path? How do you view them? If you find yourself viewing them as obstacles, try turning that around and viewing them as opportunities. Let go of the fear and stress or anger or whatever emotion may be accompanying the perceived obstacle, look at the obstacle clearly and see if there's a solution hiding within the chaos. Depersonalize whatever is happening. Know that the situation -- whatever it is -- is not permanent. It will change. I find that the kind of change I want to see will happen much more quickly if I simply change my perception -- from Obstacle to Path. Clarity arises. Peace and patience become more prevalent.

These things work for me. I hope they work for you.

Discipline

Since my return from California in September, my meditation has been all but non-existent, my ability to focus and concentrate and even my interest in attempting meditation has just not been there. As the cold weather has closed in I've gravitated more and more to my inner 'need' to bake and gobble up the final product in a way that can only be categorized as greed. There's no other way to look at it, whether one has Buddhist tendencies or not. Eating a whole small chocolate cake, for example, gobbling it all up in one sitting when one is not hungry and when one knows the body will react in a negative way afterwards, is greed. For me, it's definitely a craving that's always with me, one that I'm sometimes able to ignore, one that lately I've simply indulged. This is just one instance of late where craving around food has manifested itself in my life, and where I haven't had the discipline to say no.

This morning I logged on to the Bhavana web site and saw a link to an article by Bhante Gunaratana on the subject of Morality, in response to a question. Now, none of this is new to me. Morality is one of the basics of our practice and for the most part, I've developed what I think is pretty good morality, in the Buddhist sense.  The big exception for me is what he calls addictive behavior, when it comes to unnecessary food and I've long been aware of this. It's what we consider an unwholesome action.

In response to the question regarding Morality, Bhante G suggests substituting the word 'Discipline' for the word 'Morality', and somehow this helped me to put everything into a new and better perspective. Yes, I already knew I wasn't disciplined in this regard, and knew I wasn't even trying to be disciplined, but sometimes seeing or hearing the words at just the right time can make all the difference in how we react. Today must have been just the right time for me, because I got it.

I'm not going to reprint the entire article -- follow the link if you wish to read it -- but I will quote a few things that seemed to resonate with me.

"And, yes, it is correct to say that practicing sila—acting with discipline and restraint in daily life—lays an essential foundation for a good meditation practice.

"When we don’t have sufficient discipline, our practice will be difficult. Mindfulness may then be hard to attain or to sustain. We must have good discipline to be mindful."

He likens Sila (Morality) to sealing a house so the house has a good foundation that is firm and steady.  "Sila is like that when it comes to meditation. It’s the foundation. Through restraint, through wholesome actions and decisions made in our daily lives, we lay this foundation.

"If we don’t lay a good foundation for meditation, we can directly see the results in our practice. You may be meditating regularly, sitting a half-hour or an hour. All of a sudden one day, you can’t even sit for 10 minutes. Your mind is agitated, you’re constantly distracted, you simply can’t focus. Something you have done in your life—becoming enraged with someone, sexual misconduct, addictive behavior of all sorts or some other unwholesome action of body, speech or mind—has deeply registered in your subconscious mind. It keeps coming back up, making you feel remorseful, guilty, restless, full of worries. You just can’t sit!"  Boy, do I know this one well!

He says we can't wait until we are moral saints to begin meditation. "Whatever our moral situation, we must begin. We make the commitment to root out unwholesome behavior and to encourage wholesome habits in our lives." If we fail, he says, "If you do, then learn from those consequences. Feel the heaviness in your mind and in your life. Our goal is to make the mind light, to make our life light. After all, we are seeking to attain en-light-enment, aren’t we?"

He stresses that these are not commandments.  Sila is something we undertake on our own, by choice.  "If you don’t make the effort, if you commit some unwholesome behavior, you reap the consequences and it affects your meditation practice. If you do make the effort, you’ll also see the positive consequences—it’s very cause and effect. We practice sila for own self-confidence and to overcome our weaknesses. So, sila is a way of behaving, that we ourselves choose. We undertake it by ourselves for the sake of a steady state of mind, for the sake of progress in our practice. Good sila strengthens our courage and ability. It gives support to our meditation practice and provides psychological strength. It is this foundation that is absolutely necessary to gain concentration."

Discipline is the word of the day for me. I've already begun, with breakfast. Delicious, sufficient in quantity, but about half what I'd normally prepare and eat ravenously, from pure pleasure at the taste, beyond what is needed for sustenance. Yes, as I sit here writing I could use another serving -- but only from desire, not from hunger. I had great discipline in the forest, partly because little was available and partly because the monastic life simply calls for discipline in all things.

Aside from discipline about excessive and unneeded food, I also need discipline around exercise and more importantly, around meditation. The latter will be taken care of in a few days as I begin a retreat, but I need to exercise that same discipline on a daily basis, right here at  home. This is how wisdom develops -- actually, all three of the basics taught by the Buddha (Morality, Wisdom and Concentration) rely upon one another for support and growth, but Morality is the foundation. And I need to get back to it.

Thoughts from the forest

My kuti -- the newest one, named Access

My experience here this summer is diametrically opposed to my experience here last summer. How can that be? I've asked myself that -- and come up with several possible or combination of answers. One is that my expectations this year were based on past knowledge of what I'd find, rather than whatever unknown expectations I had last year. Another (gained from a posting by our Abbess, Ayya Tathaaloka) is that my perceptions are different this year. I'm looking at the forest as home, seeing its value, its ability to heal, its beauty, its peace and silence and being surrounded by nature all as wonderful opportunities, not as an obstacle.

Once again, I packed the wrong clothing for the weather we are experiencing -- I brought warm things based on my cold experience last year. The few cool t-shirts I have see frequent washings, while the heavier things languish on the shelves. And that's never a complaint -- give me warm, sunny, breezy and totally beautiful days anytime, and I will adjust to meet the circumstances.

And that, as I type this, reminds me once again (and again, from reading Ayya Tathaaloka's words recently) that anything life presents us with can be viewed and perceived as an opportunity, rather than an obstacle, if you open your heart-mind to the possibilities. I see nothing here as an obstacle that can't be overcome.

Here on the land -- a fitting illustration.

Switching topics a bit, I want to quote something wonderful that I read a couple of days ago in a book called A Still Forest Pool, the Insight Meditation of Achaan (Ajahn) Chah.  I haven't finished the book because by evening, when I have time to read, my brain is tired and not much of it sticks. But this stuck: "The heart of the path is so simple. No need for long explanations. Give up clinging to love and hate, just rest with things as they are. That is all I do in my own practice."  Never have I read anything that cut so deeply, so quickly and simply to the heart of how we are meant to practice. Although I could never have stated it with such clarity as this, I can say with all honesty that this is where my practice is trending at the time, mostly off the cushion as I go through each day with this intention fully in my mind.

Being here has already developed this ability in me to a much greater degree, and continues to do so daily. Things change here with sometimes startling rapidity.  My options are to sit back by the wayside and grumble (clinging), resist the change in plans, or to just roll with it, which is what I do almost seamlessly now. I sometimes smile at an unexpected change, but don't cling to whatever it was that changed.

Walking down to the creek.

Now, on to fun! We had a wonderful young woman visit for a bit over a day, filled with questions about life here, about the mechanics of ordaining and such. Yesterday before she left Ayya took us for a creek walk (our creek, fittingly named DharmaCreek) that led us to a lovely waterfall -- shown in the above photo. And I mean literally a creek walk -- not walking alongside the creek, but for the most part walking in the creek, scrambling over and around huge boulders, along narrow bits of land alongside a really huge rock, through and around trees and branches, whatever it took to pick a path to the waterfall. To be clear: I love creekwalks! Have enjoyed them in the past -- the long ago past. I expect that the last one was maybe 1993-1995, and I was pleased and surprised that this body would still do it.

The pool again, and the rocks. All so beautiful. The air was warm, the cool water felt so wonderful on my feet. Not only am I a nature girl, I'm also a water girl.

Once here, we talked for awhile then sat in meditation for 20 minutes or so before reversing our course back to the cars. This is just a tiny taste of what is available here, if we (I) but only take advantage of it.

Not a fascinating photo, taken from the waterfall looking back, but it does show the beauty of the creek, the forest, all that surrounds us as we dwell here happily and peacefully. How can this be perceived as unpleasant?

Mindfulness

We talk so much about mindfulness, and I've just returned from a wonderful, but short, retreat at Bhavana taught by Bhante Gunaratana himself (I can die happy now, by the way, since this was way at the top of my bucket list). Mindfulness was mentioned and explained often during the week. But what does it mean in daily life? How do we put it into practice? Fortunately, this is a gift I learned and learned well 7 or 8 years ago, and something I continue to hone. It IS possible to train our minds to be aware all the time -- during all waking hours as we go about our daily lives. Here's an example of some current mindfulness in my life.

Last week at Bhavana I got a nasty insect bite on my thigh. I have no clue what bit me -- I was sitting on the deck of my little kuti reading when it began itching. When I scratched, I could already feel the welt of swelling. Over the next day or so the welt and swelling grew to about a 3-inch diameter spread of angry redness and itchiness, with a little pimple-like center. I kept my eye on it, determined not to say anything or let it impact my retreat. Thankfully, it reached a point where I could tell it wasn't getting worse. Since I've been home the redness and swelling have subsided, leaving that big circle of ugly yellow bruising in its place. Whatever bit me was a nasty little creature.

Then, not long before I left Bhavana, I noticed an itching on my calf -- which has progressed to an angry, itchy cluster of blisters that reek of poison ivy or poison sumac, all of which are rife in those woods. I didn't stray off paths often, but all it takes is once, and there were a couple of times when I might have brushed against something. I'm not usually allergic -- must have been potent.

Both these things have been great objects of mindfulness. Constant companions, bodily sensations to observe. Merely observe with equanimity, without drifting off into either grasping or aversion. Knowing they are impermanent. Trying not to scratch (although in both cases I admit to occasionally scratching the skin surrounding the bite and the blisters). Certainly not letting myself whine and moan and get all caught up in a sense of unpleasantness or reactions around all that itching. It just is. And it will pass.

Life throws us (me, anyway) opportunities of this kind for mindfulness constantly. All we have to do is be aware as they arise, and stay aware until they recede. It just takes training the mind. And if I can do it, anyone can do it. It just takes effort.

Naturally, I learned a great deal more during this retreat and eventually as thoughts reach coherence I'll write about them. But, probably the best moment for me was being asked to help the monks with the Eight Lifetime Precepts ceremony that closed the retreat. When they asked, I was so surprised and honored that my eyes got a little damp. But even then, I understood that I wasn't singled out for any reason other than that the job requires a female and I was the only female on the premises who had already taken these precepts. Normally, a nun would do the honors for the women taking them (Sayalay Susila did the honors for me, two years ago), but this time no nun was available. Another good moment for mindfulness -- no attaching of pride or ego to the selection! Still, I have to say that it was really, really cool to sit up front next to Bhante G and take part in this ceremony.

There were 3 men, 6 women taking the precepts. After bowing to Bhante G, receiving their Pali name and being doused with water by him, each person would move to the side to have a medallion necklace placed around their neck and a string bracelet tied around their wrists. Men moved to Bhante Seelananda, shown here next to Bhante G, the women moved to me, on the woman's side of Bhante G.

All of the people in white in the first couple of rows took the precepts. It's a fun event, filled with laughter and happiness (particularly when Bhante G's aim with the water is especially good!).

The women who took the precepts.

It's really hard to find words for how good this felt, especially for the two women in the group that I had known before this retreat. This woman sat the retreat taught by Sister Susila at Southern Dharma in April.

I was out of my element in some ways, totally aware of Bhante G watching my every move and hoping I was doing everything right, but I know this is a once-in-a-lifetime happening for me, and I enjoyed every moment of it. Many thanks to the resident who used my camera to take these photos.