I am back home in San Francisco, across the bridge from where I spent most of January. My three weeks at Green Gulch Farm for Reb Anderson's January Intensive 2013 were the most full, joyous, quiet, wholehearted three weeks of practice that I am so grateful and genuinely thankful for, as that rich experience will never happen again quite like that. For many participating in the intensive, there was a lot more difficulty than I experienced. I had my moments, but I remained healthy and cold/flu-free.
Right at the start of the Intensive, there were people already ill and either resting outside of the zendo (meditation hall) for the entire day or spending some time in the zendo and some time resting. Then, during that first week, the fully assigned zendo, which had formerly been a barn, had less and less people sitting in it. And throughout the Intensive there was a lot of coughing and sniffling and nose blowing sounds to add to the ambience of Pacific Ocean waves crashing on the shore, frogs croaking, trees dropping dew and acorns on the roof, rain, coyotes howling, owls hooting, and stillness. Granted, one of the reasons to sit at Green Gulch is to listen to these amazing sounds of nature outside, but the suffering of coughing and sneezing helped create the uniqueness of this Intensive. It also brought up empathy and compassion in me. Normally I'd be sitting with thoughts of judgement about the people who sounded as if they didn't cover their coughs or sneezes, or the people who didn't unwrap their cough drops before entering the zendo. You know, these days they announce in theatrical productions to "please unwrap all candies and turn off all cell phones before the play begins." This time I felt empathy for these poor people suffering through this Intensive and fortune that at the moment I was not suffering from the cold/flu/illness, but my fortune of not suffering from the cold/flu/illness could all change in the next moment. I wanted to help as best I could as I was healthy and well. In this case, the best way to help was to continue to practice as wholeheartedly as possible. To sit for those who could not sit in the zendo. To do a little more work than was originally assigned to me to fill in the holes left by the people convalescing. To take care of myself. To make a gesture of care taking on my personal time.
Sitting for three weeks in a rather full and monastic schedule of zazen, facing myself, being with myself, being still with myself, being quiet with myself allowed me to deeply listen to myself. I love how Zen practice is body oriented. Sitting upright, truly upright, is a comfortable and sustainable way to sit. If my body leans slightly or one of my weak areas becomes unsupported, then I feel the pain of my imbalance. If uprightness or imbalance is manifested in the physical body causing freedom from suffering or suffering, we can notice how the uprightness or grasping/turning away of our thoughts can also cause freedom from suffering or suffering. In fact, we can feel it. So, while everyone around me was falling ill, I kept checking in with my body. Do I feel sick? I feel well enough to follow the schedule, but I am feeling a bit run-down and tired. I don't have a headache, but my throat feels a little scratchy and my nose is running a little bit. Can I sit in the zendo? Yes, as long as I have a tea with molasses and a cough drop beforehand. I would feel more comfortable sitting in the zendo if I had a tissue up my sleeve. Even though I'd like to exercise and stretch during this break, I think my body needs to rest. I was able to follow the schedule completely for all three weeks, but only because I listened to my body and took care of it.
Practically speaking, getting enough rest and washing often did the most help. I washed my hands more often than I usually do and used hand sanitizer in addition before meals. Somewhere in Dogen's writings (I haven't read it yet, so I'm not sure exactly where. It might be in The Pure Standards for the Zen Community or in a section of the Shobogenzo about monks' conduct in the zendo) there is zendo etiquette around cleanliness. There are short verses on brushing the teeth, washing the face, washing the body, and washing the feet. I think in the admonitions before starting sesshins the cleanliness imperative includes cleaning teeth, face, and feet each time before entering the zendo. During this Intensive, I did my best with teeth and face, and I did in fact wash my hands at every break. Washing your feet more than once a day is very difficult, so I only washed my feet when I took a shower, but I've discovered that massaging the feet helps with endurance through sitting, so I massaged my feet at the time I washed them. In addition to possible obsessiveness with washing, the Tenzo (head of the kitchen) fed us many dishes with lots of ginger. My preference is not for ginger, but if it's in my oryoki bowl, I'm going to eat all of it. So I also ate a lot of ginger during these three weeks. And finally, my constitution is usually a little weaker than most because I'm anemic. I take an iron supplement, but I really need red meat as well. Zen Center is a vegetarian institution, so I didn't have any meat to increase my strength, but I did take seconds on the leafy greens (and there are lots of leafy greens grown right there on the farm) and added molasses to my teas. I don't like sweetening my tea, but molasses is a source of iron and is lower on the glycemic index than cane sugar and honey, so I took my molasses medicine.
Perhaps warmth was also a big factor. I was fortunate to be assigned a room right outside the zendo, so I didn't have to go outside to sit in the mornings. In fact, my room was a single and it was relatively big with a big closet in which I changed into and out of my robe. I could easily grab my towel and toothbrush and wash up quickly before going back into the zendo. And, the best gift ever, the former tenant came by the second day with a space heater. She said she had another heater but thought I might want to use this one as she had found it helpful when she lived in the room. We were hit with those very cold days and nights, and that heater along with my sleeping bag and silk sleeping back insert saved my life.
As I was following the schedule that was posted, I also felt empathy for those that couldn't follow the posted schedule. I know they all wanted to be in the zendo with everyone else. I know they didn't want to be suffering in their beds. I know those that had positions or jobs like Ino (head of the meditation hall), doanryo (zendo jobs like ringing the bells or hitting drums to tell us when to sit and when to do walking meditation), or oryoki server (oryoki is formal meal in the zendo) really wanted to do their job rather than sweat and toss and turn in their beds. But all the people who fell ill had to follow the schedule in the best and most wholehearted way they could and that was to rest and take care of their bodies. And because of this, I was asked to be an oryoki server on three different crews, two different crews during the first two weeks of the Intensive, and then on one crew that served two days during the last week of sesshin. I was appreciative to have the opportunity to serve the community and to help those who couldn't follow their schedule as server.
We had three personal days, in which the schedule is very light with a later morning sitting at 6:30am, service, then informal breakfast in the dining hall. You're pretty much off after that with time set aside to clean your room. Back in the zendo at 5:30pm to sit, service, and dinner in the dining hall with either small group discussion or sitting in the zendo to close out your evening before chanting the Refuges in Pali. On our second personal day, one of my friends who is a resident at Green Gulch, had not yet emerged from his room for a week and a half, so I decided to make him a tea of ginger, lemon, and honey. This is Senior Dharma Teacher Blanche's famous care taking elixir of lovingkindness that she makes for people who have been knocked out by colds. I asked the Tenzo's permission to use a little bit of ginger and one lemon (honey is available to the community), which she granted in the amounts I asked for. I did my best steeping the ginger and adding lemon juice without seeds and putting in just enough honey. I was also invoking Blanche's grandmotherly mind and working with my wholehearted lovingkindness. I think this tea was healing for me as much as for the recipient. When he was feeling better and mingling back in the community, he thanked me for the tea. There is something about the fullness and emptiness of the three wheels, giver, receiver, and gift, here.
Now that I'm back at City Center, the practitioners here have also been and are being hit by this terrible cold/flu/illness epidemic. I heard that the entire nation has been getting sick as well. Please, everyone, take good care of your bodies. Listen deeply to your body and follow its schedule, which might be to take some time to rest. And if all else fails, make yourself some grandmotherly mind lovingkindness tea.
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