Zen Confessions time...I love stories.
Izzat so wrong?
While
sitting, one approach to clearing the mind is to recognize when the
monkey brain has bounded off in a new direction. Then simply name the
line of thinking, and recenter on the counting. Usually I find myself
spinning on some aspect if life, or how it "should" be but isn't, how it
was and will never be again, or how I wish it hadn't been. Recognizing
the drift, I name it "story" and come back to center.
As
an English major and someone mad for narrative, I have noticed that if I
have been reading any time close to the moment I get on the meditation
cushion, there's even more sludge than usual to wade through before mind
settles down. I have an extra layer of story, usually fiction,
sometimes biography or research all fresh and interesting to contemplate
instead of getting down to brass tacks.
Like swimming
through a turbulent sargasso, I feel like I have to push these seaweed
distractions to each side as I swim down to a more tranquil depth. At
the same time I know it shouldn't matter whether the story is "my"
story, or someone else's, as long as I am mindful of whatever comes up.
Does not stop me from reading, however.
When
feeling ill, my old standby since the fifth grade was to stack the
books high by the bed, and read, sleep, eat, repeat until I felt better.
Since I've been hammered with the adrenal burnout,
I've spent weekends (and once almost two weeks) just reading, hoping
that the down time will help me recover. What I am discovering is that
in fact, anything too emotionally compelling is actually more of a
strain than I should be putting myself through right now. Evidently,
everyday life with two kids and two cats in the house plus work has
enough stress without adding more.
So...spending a lot
more time reading facts & research, learning about the body and
nutrition, health topics, and in the evenings, Zen sources.
Reading
one of those last night, Deshimaru's Way of True Zen (thanks Pigasus
for the recommendation), I recognized that a great deal of how teaching
is effectively transmitted is through metaphor, comparison, and quick
narrative sketches. In other words, stories. In this case, stories to
help us wake up, as opposed to those simply meant to entertain or
distract.
But don't the best stories both engage us to
the point we forget ourselves, and then plop us right down in the
middle of significant recognition and resonance? The ones I love most,
do.
Showing posts with label Purpose. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Purpose. Show all posts
Thursday, May 31, 2012
Monday, May 21, 2012
Dalai Grandma Wisdom
Sometimes a person says or writes something that is just what you need to hear at the moment.
For the past several weeks I've been right up against the issue that adrenal fatigue means I quite literally can't be very productive. Because, well, I'm lying down in bed. So what's a type-a, recovering perfectionist to do when I not only don't have my usual list of accomplishments to feel good about, I'm not sure that measure is ever going to work for me again?
Enter the Dalai Grandma. Her essay today is on life curves, and I'll let her speak for herself.
I knew, I knew I needed to take this adrenal burnout as a sign that I had to reframe but to what? And here it is:
You can think that at the same time as we grow in compassion and wisdom, our life unfolds into the world.
[Like so many colored strands of thread moving into the world like rivers, curling around, embracing it.]
That is a life of connecting and giving that can become richer in a peaceful old age.
Like Steve Martin in Dirty Rotten Scoundrels, faced with the glory of the French Riviera: "This...THIS is what I want!"
But before I tear off and start planning and projecting how to make that happen, I think I'll just sit back, reflect and resonate. Like a Martin D-35 guitar body. Just let this note sustain for a while.
For the past several weeks I've been right up against the issue that adrenal fatigue means I quite literally can't be very productive. Because, well, I'm lying down in bed. So what's a type-a, recovering perfectionist to do when I not only don't have my usual list of accomplishments to feel good about, I'm not sure that measure is ever going to work for me again?
Enter the Dalai Grandma. Her essay today is on life curves, and I'll let her speak for herself.
I knew, I knew I needed to take this adrenal burnout as a sign that I had to reframe but to what? And here it is:
You can think that at the same time as we grow in compassion and wisdom, our life unfolds into the world.
[Like so many colored strands of thread moving into the world like rivers, curling around, embracing it.]
That is a life of connecting and giving that can become richer in a peaceful old age.
Like Steve Martin in Dirty Rotten Scoundrels, faced with the glory of the French Riviera: "This...THIS is what I want!"
But before I tear off and start planning and projecting how to make that happen, I think I'll just sit back, reflect and resonate. Like a Martin D-35 guitar body. Just let this note sustain for a while.
Wednesday, March 21, 2012
Purpose
Simple enough. Enku sought to carve 120,000 wooden Buddhas. As a Dana practice, here we will post original Buddhist artwork at whatever rate it may arrive, with the only criterion that it be the original artwork of the person making the submission. Other themes may include recovery, social justice, Buddhist practice for householders, and contemporary practice in geographies like the EU and US where Buddhism is not part of our historical culture.
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