Probably my treasure of experiences from the 2013 Green Gulch Intensive happened at the end of oryoki dinner service on the first day of sesshin. Sesshin is a time of deep silence and introspection, and although there's no communication with the outside world or even your fellow practitioners who you've been bonding with over the first two weeks, this silence and solitude creates a very supportive environment (or container) that feels very safe.
Over the course of two weeks, the teacher, Reb, had been talking about prajna paramita, or the wisdom of reality, being at the heart of each moment. We can glimpse this wisdom or light or prajna paramita, without grasping tightly to it, by practicing the six paramitas in each moment. Welcome the moment and what it brings. Be kind and generous with what arises. Practice ethics with it, for example not killing or denying what is arising. Be still and quiet with the moment. Have a focused, concentrated effort with the moment. And finally experience wisdom or prajna paramita with the moment. It's difficult to grasp that practice is about practicing with the six paramitas from moment to moment and not only with the difficulties that arise and cause us to obviously suffer.
When my ex-boyfriend and I would have difficult arguments, he would tell me that I was not meeting him. This would upset me more because it was true, and yet I didn't know how to meet him. I would also feel like I wasn't being met. My body would tense up, I could feel my chest and throat contract. All that would come out of my mouth and throat would be screaming words. My anxiety level would be off the charts and I wouldn't know how to come back to grounded. I felt like this was how I could find the way to meet him, but it wasn't working. I then questioned my ability to meet anyone.
Back to the first day of sesshin and serving oryoki dinner. The oryoki serving crew serves all the meals in the day. We were the first crew to serve during sesshin which has a different schedule from the regular Intensive schedule. Instead of only breakfast and lunch service, during sesshin, tea and dinner are served formally in the zendo in addition to breakfast and lunch. As much as I enjoy serving oryoki (see the last blog post) it takes a lot of energy to serve one meal, let alone four. I love it, yet it is exhausting. It takes a lot of physical stamina as well as concentrated presence. By dinner time I usually say to myself, "I know you're tired, but now is the time to hang in and stay more focused than ever. Just one more service then you can relax." The Green Gulch zendo is long, and the servers begin by entering through the main doors, down three stairs, around the great altar, and then straight ahead like flying down a runway, before reaching Senior Dharma Teacher and Abbess at the other end of the zendo. Dinner service moves quickly because only two bowls are served and there is no chanting. My energy at dinner time felt heightened. We had a swift and clean service of wiping down the meal boards, which is actually a running full speed action, serving the first pot of medicine bowl, serving the second pot of sautéd greens, seconds of both pots, and hot water to clean the bowls. We were ready to bring the buckets for the water offering. I was the first server out on the teacher, Reb's side of the zendo. With my high energy, I felt myself flying down the "runway" trying to stay in pace with my partner server on the other side of the zendo. As I approached Reb, he already had his hands in gassho. I slowed my body down as much as I could right before reaching him, side stepped, bowed to and with him, and then placed the bucket, angled, at the edge of the meal board in front of his bowl. I could feel my heartbeat still heavy and fast in my chest from the runway. Reb moved so slowly to his very full bowl. I saw his hands on the bowl but I didn't see him pick it up. I realized he was moving much slower than I was and his whole energy/internal timing/biorhythm was at a much slower state than mine. I found myself slowing my breathing. I wanted to be as still as possible so he could pour the water into the bucket without spilling. I didn't want him to feel rushed to do this. As I watched his hands on the bowl, the bowl itself, the water in the bowl, and the deep blackness of the bowl and its water, I found such a deep stillness and patience of just being in that moment. I felt the arising of my service of providing the bucket meet the arising of Reb's need to move the water out of his bowl meet the arising of the water in the bowl needing to move to the bucket. I felt this stillness not just in me, but I felt it from Reb and I felt it from the water in the black bowl. This is as close as I can come with words to describing what I perceived to have happened, but I know that what happened is indescribable. It is one of the most beautiful experiences I've ever experienced. The thought that came to me after all the stories of what it meant came and went was, In the heart of stillness and quiet is prajna paramita.
Later I shared my experience with Reb in dokusan. I said it was the only time I know when I felt a deep meeting that arose simultaneously. It wasn't only about me slowing down to meet him and it wasn't only about him moving to meet me. We found each other and it arose naturally, and when the moment was gone, there was a new moment to practice with, so there was no need to hold tightly to the "success" of that meeting. In the next moment, everything in me slowed down and I bowed deeply to Reb. Then at my slower internal pacing I met the next pair with my bucket and their water offerings. In dokusan, Reb found my experience wonderful and wished me many more meetings as deeply met. Yes, and I wish for us all to have such deeply met meetings in our lives.
Wednesday, February 6, 2013
Monday, February 4, 2013
The Emptiness of the Three Wheels: Oryoki
I love serving oryoki.
For those that don't know what oryoki is, it's a formal meal eaten while sitting in the zendo. I've been told that oryoki means "just enough," and refers to taking and eating just enough food. Oryoki is eaten sitting on your cushion. Normally we face the wall when sitting zazen, however for oryoki, we face out with the meal board in front of us. We lay out our bowls on the meal board and use the meal board as a table. Hence its name. This is also why we don't want to put our feet on or stand on the meal board when getting in and out of the seat for zazen. It's like standing and walking on the dining room table with your dirty bare feet and then sitting down to eat a meal there. Not to worry if you do accidentally step on the meal board, part of the order to the oryoki meal is wiping down the meal boards.
Also for oryoki meals, you need a set of bowls. Lay practitioners at SFZC use sets of three bowls. Priests have formal oryoki sets that have seven bowls and some extra additional items. Your bowls are all bundled up in a cloth, so you can keep your bowls at your seat and they are ready for each meal in the zendo. During the intensive we ate breakfast and lunch as formal oryoki meals in the zendo, and then during the last five days of sesshin, we had breakfast, lunch, tea, and supper as formal oryoki meal service.
The order to oryoki meal and service is this. The practice period leader sits at their seat. In this case, it was Tenshin Roshi. Everyone should be inside the zendo and settled before the leader sits. Then oryoki service starts, and service in this case is the people who are servers begin their duties. There is chanting during the oryoki form, but I don't refer to this as a service. The first thing that happens is servers come in and wipe down the meal boards. At SFZC, we serve gomasio (sesame salt) as a condiment, and it is the next thing that the servers distribute to the people in the zendo. Then the Soku, or the person in charge of the oryoki service in its entirety, offers the Buddha Tray meal to Manjusri on the altar. After the offering, everyone in the zendo opens their oryoki bowls and places them out. This takes some time, so the servers and the Soku are still during this time.
When opening your bowls, the first thing is pulling open the tie at the top and folding that wrapping cloth into a rectangular placemat on the meal board. On top of the bowls are a wiping cloth, utensil case, and napkin. For now, the wiping cloth and utensil case get tucked under your robes in front of you. The napkin opens right up and spreads out directly on your lap. Then use both hands to move the big Buddha bowl over to the left of your placemat. Use your thumbs to hook the inside of the smallest bowl, lift, and place to the far right. Use thumbs again in the same method for the middle bowl and place it in the middle. The utensils go down next. The setsu (cleaning stick) is on top and can be pulled out and placed between the second and third bowls, tip toward you and handle hanging out a little. From inside the case, chopsticks are placed at the bottom of the placemat, point to the right, and then spoon under chopsticks, face up, bowl to the right. Utensil case goes back underneath robes. And you're set up.
Once everyone is mostly set up, the Kokyo (chant leader) will lead a chant during which the oryoki servers begin entering the zendo to serve the food. There are three pots, one item per bowl. The first pot is usually a grain, for breakfast a hot cereal like oatmeal and for lunch something like rice. The second bowl is usually a hot liquid that can be ladled, like stewed fruit for breakfast and soup for lunch. The third bowl is usually a spatula or tong dish, like yogurt or nuts for breakfast and green salad for lunch. This is my favorite part of serving oryoki. As a server, you want to move through the zendo swiftly and quietly. This is a challenge because the pots are heavy and hot, and if it's full of liquid, it can slosh easily. But this is a meal, so you don't want the energy to put people to sleep. I also don't like the feeling of being rushed as someone eating and being served in the zendo, so I don't want to move in the zendo like I'm worried about running out of time. Just calm and swift. There is a lizard that can run on the surface of water. The lizard is running, but its body is present and calm and upright as it runs. I have the image of this lizard running on water in my head as I'm moving through the zendo for oryoki service. However, with all the swiftness of moving through the zendo, once you are in front of the two people you will be serving, then the time is all about them. I stop, side step in front of the pair, take a breath and bow deeply. Place the pot down on the meal board, kneel down, and use both hands to serve the food. There are hand gestures for a little bit more, a ceremonial amount, and enough. As a server, I try to pay attention to the hand gestures, pay attention to my serving, try not to spill any food on the bowl or meal board or person, and try not to make a lot of noise with the pot and serving utensil. Some food is easy and neat and clean to serve. Some food is really drippy and messy and takes longer for me to serve. Some of the people receiving are nervous and don't know what to do and might not hold their bowl close enough or might pull their bowl away quickly. Some of the people receiving might make me nervous, like serving Tenshin Roshi or the abbess, and my hands might be shaking. You never know what it's going to feel like with each person you serve and each time you're serving, so you just have to do your best by meeting the moment as is. This is what I love about serving oryoki.
The other being in the equation is the food itself. Before servers take their pot into the zendo, we take a moment to stir the pot a bit. This is a practical action that mixes any settling and breaks up any clumping for easier service. It can also redistribute the heat and can allow the utensil(s) to settle in the food and the pot. For me, this action allows me to connect with the food. I get a little stir at the same time. Now, when I carry the pot into the zendo, it's not just a pot of food, it's nourishment for the people sitting in the zendo and needs care not to be spilled or wasted. The entire act of serving the people sitting with cared for food is an endless wheel of giver, receiver, and gift, no one more important than the other and all three relying on the other two to exist and be of service.
When the last pot is served and the servers leave the zendo, the receivers chant the meal chant:
We reflect on the effort that brought us this food and consider how it comes to us.
We reflect on our virtue and practice and whether we are worthy of this offering.
We regard it as essential to keep the mind free from excesses such as greed.
We regard this food as good medicine to sustain our life.
For the sake of enlightenment we now receive this food.
First this is for the three treasures.
Next for the four benefactors.
Finally for the beings in the six realms.
May all be equally nourished.
The first portion is to end all evil.
The second is to cultivate all good.
The third is to free all beings.
May we all realize the Buddha way.
It is a mindful meal and a mindful way to eat. As oryoki means just enough, in case you finish all your food and are still hungry in the few minutes allotted, seconds are served. You need to have finished everything in your bowl before asking for seconds, and you shouldn't eat your seconds until all three bowls have been offered and all the servers have left the zendo. Once the third bowl seconds servers have left, you can eat your seconds and if you've finished your food, you can start cleaning your bowls with your setsu. The setsu is used to scrape up every bit of food. This is another chance to taste and appreciate the meal. Then the servers come back to collect the gomasio. After allowing time to scrape clean the bowls, the servers return with hot water. This water will clean all of your bowls and your utensils. The server will pour water in your Buddha bowl until you motion enough. I don't like to use a lot of water, but I also need enough to clean the sides of my bowls because I usually fill my second bowl to the top, so for me it's a delicate balance of when to motion the server enough. I've had careless servers pour very quickly, which is dangerous because this is tea-steeping hot water. I try to pour at a medium, steady pace and I try to pour onto the bowl surface to keep from making much splashing noise. Once you get water, start washing your bowls, beginning with the Buddha bowl and using the setsu to wash the spots not submerged by water. From the Buddha bowl, the water is poured into the second bowl, using the wiping cloth to dry off the Buddha bowl. Wash spoon and chopsticks in the second bowl, dry off on the wiping cloth and put back into the utensil holder. Wash the second bowl using the setsu, then pour the water in the third bowl and dry off the second bowl and place it in the Buddha bowl. If you have too much water, drink the extra from the second bowl. Clean the third bowl with the setsu, leave the water, and dry off the setsu and put the setsu on the utensil holder. The servers come in with one final service, buckets to discard your cleaning water, however, "This water we use to wash our bowls tastes like ambrosia. We offer it to the many spirits to satisfy them...". So it's not discarding but offering and it's polite to pour off all but a last sip so that you get a final taste of the entire meal offering. Once this bowl is empty, it can be dried off and nested in the second bowl and then the oryoki bowl set can be wrapped back up, folding the placemat cloth over the bowls, folding and replacing the lap napkin, replacing the utensils, stretching out and laying out the wiping cloth, and then tying the whole bundle up. Servers come in to wipe down the meal boards one more time, some final words from the Kokyo, and it's the end of meal service.
Although the meal is over for the receivers, the servers have yet to eat. We clean up all the gomasio and kettles and water buckets, as well as gather pots for the servers' meal. When we can sit down to our meal, it is also a formal event and we serve each other in a wrote way. All the same etiquette is observed as happens in the zendo. The entire crew needs to support each other throughout the entire serving action. It is a bonding experience all done in silence. This servers' meal becomes a deeper connection to each other, to our work, to the food. Beautiful things happen of the moment as a serving crew bonds. Intimacy is a better description of this bonding. When a crew is intimately connected, we move as one body, we fill in the holes intuitively. One of these beautiful moments was during sesshin. It was tea service on our second day of serving, so we were so familiar with each other and how we move and work. We were serving seconds on the tea, and with seconds one server starts at one end of the zendo while the second server starts at the other end and they walk along the people serving only those who have their hands in gassho, indicating the request for seconds, until the servers meet and then can walk quickly to the door to either exit or wait until all servers are at the door and bow together to exit. So as I came to meet my seconds serving partner, two people sitting right next to each other put their hands in gassho. Normally one server would serve the two, but because we arrived together we both bowed simultaneously, one in front of each of the receivers. These receivers were sitting on the floor, so both of us servers kneeled down in seiza, knees angled toward the altar, and poured the tea until the enough gesture, and stood back up to bow deeply to our individual receivers, and we did all of this completely in sync with each other, moving, breathing, pacing in time with each other. The woman I served smiled and bowed so deeply, my story is that she saw the same beauty in the moment that I did.
"May we with all beings realize the emptiness of the three wheels; giver, receiver, and gift."
For those that don't know what oryoki is, it's a formal meal eaten while sitting in the zendo. I've been told that oryoki means "just enough," and refers to taking and eating just enough food. Oryoki is eaten sitting on your cushion. Normally we face the wall when sitting zazen, however for oryoki, we face out with the meal board in front of us. We lay out our bowls on the meal board and use the meal board as a table. Hence its name. This is also why we don't want to put our feet on or stand on the meal board when getting in and out of the seat for zazen. It's like standing and walking on the dining room table with your dirty bare feet and then sitting down to eat a meal there. Not to worry if you do accidentally step on the meal board, part of the order to the oryoki meal is wiping down the meal boards.
Also for oryoki meals, you need a set of bowls. Lay practitioners at SFZC use sets of three bowls. Priests have formal oryoki sets that have seven bowls and some extra additional items. Your bowls are all bundled up in a cloth, so you can keep your bowls at your seat and they are ready for each meal in the zendo. During the intensive we ate breakfast and lunch as formal oryoki meals in the zendo, and then during the last five days of sesshin, we had breakfast, lunch, tea, and supper as formal oryoki meal service.
The order to oryoki meal and service is this. The practice period leader sits at their seat. In this case, it was Tenshin Roshi. Everyone should be inside the zendo and settled before the leader sits. Then oryoki service starts, and service in this case is the people who are servers begin their duties. There is chanting during the oryoki form, but I don't refer to this as a service. The first thing that happens is servers come in and wipe down the meal boards. At SFZC, we serve gomasio (sesame salt) as a condiment, and it is the next thing that the servers distribute to the people in the zendo. Then the Soku, or the person in charge of the oryoki service in its entirety, offers the Buddha Tray meal to Manjusri on the altar. After the offering, everyone in the zendo opens their oryoki bowls and places them out. This takes some time, so the servers and the Soku are still during this time.
When opening your bowls, the first thing is pulling open the tie at the top and folding that wrapping cloth into a rectangular placemat on the meal board. On top of the bowls are a wiping cloth, utensil case, and napkin. For now, the wiping cloth and utensil case get tucked under your robes in front of you. The napkin opens right up and spreads out directly on your lap. Then use both hands to move the big Buddha bowl over to the left of your placemat. Use your thumbs to hook the inside of the smallest bowl, lift, and place to the far right. Use thumbs again in the same method for the middle bowl and place it in the middle. The utensils go down next. The setsu (cleaning stick) is on top and can be pulled out and placed between the second and third bowls, tip toward you and handle hanging out a little. From inside the case, chopsticks are placed at the bottom of the placemat, point to the right, and then spoon under chopsticks, face up, bowl to the right. Utensil case goes back underneath robes. And you're set up.
Once everyone is mostly set up, the Kokyo (chant leader) will lead a chant during which the oryoki servers begin entering the zendo to serve the food. There are three pots, one item per bowl. The first pot is usually a grain, for breakfast a hot cereal like oatmeal and for lunch something like rice. The second bowl is usually a hot liquid that can be ladled, like stewed fruit for breakfast and soup for lunch. The third bowl is usually a spatula or tong dish, like yogurt or nuts for breakfast and green salad for lunch. This is my favorite part of serving oryoki. As a server, you want to move through the zendo swiftly and quietly. This is a challenge because the pots are heavy and hot, and if it's full of liquid, it can slosh easily. But this is a meal, so you don't want the energy to put people to sleep. I also don't like the feeling of being rushed as someone eating and being served in the zendo, so I don't want to move in the zendo like I'm worried about running out of time. Just calm and swift. There is a lizard that can run on the surface of water. The lizard is running, but its body is present and calm and upright as it runs. I have the image of this lizard running on water in my head as I'm moving through the zendo for oryoki service. However, with all the swiftness of moving through the zendo, once you are in front of the two people you will be serving, then the time is all about them. I stop, side step in front of the pair, take a breath and bow deeply. Place the pot down on the meal board, kneel down, and use both hands to serve the food. There are hand gestures for a little bit more, a ceremonial amount, and enough. As a server, I try to pay attention to the hand gestures, pay attention to my serving, try not to spill any food on the bowl or meal board or person, and try not to make a lot of noise with the pot and serving utensil. Some food is easy and neat and clean to serve. Some food is really drippy and messy and takes longer for me to serve. Some of the people receiving are nervous and don't know what to do and might not hold their bowl close enough or might pull their bowl away quickly. Some of the people receiving might make me nervous, like serving Tenshin Roshi or the abbess, and my hands might be shaking. You never know what it's going to feel like with each person you serve and each time you're serving, so you just have to do your best by meeting the moment as is. This is what I love about serving oryoki.
The other being in the equation is the food itself. Before servers take their pot into the zendo, we take a moment to stir the pot a bit. This is a practical action that mixes any settling and breaks up any clumping for easier service. It can also redistribute the heat and can allow the utensil(s) to settle in the food and the pot. For me, this action allows me to connect with the food. I get a little stir at the same time. Now, when I carry the pot into the zendo, it's not just a pot of food, it's nourishment for the people sitting in the zendo and needs care not to be spilled or wasted. The entire act of serving the people sitting with cared for food is an endless wheel of giver, receiver, and gift, no one more important than the other and all three relying on the other two to exist and be of service.
When the last pot is served and the servers leave the zendo, the receivers chant the meal chant:
We reflect on the effort that brought us this food and consider how it comes to us.
We reflect on our virtue and practice and whether we are worthy of this offering.
We regard it as essential to keep the mind free from excesses such as greed.
We regard this food as good medicine to sustain our life.
For the sake of enlightenment we now receive this food.
First this is for the three treasures.
Next for the four benefactors.
Finally for the beings in the six realms.
May all be equally nourished.
The first portion is to end all evil.
The second is to cultivate all good.
The third is to free all beings.
May we all realize the Buddha way.
It is a mindful meal and a mindful way to eat. As oryoki means just enough, in case you finish all your food and are still hungry in the few minutes allotted, seconds are served. You need to have finished everything in your bowl before asking for seconds, and you shouldn't eat your seconds until all three bowls have been offered and all the servers have left the zendo. Once the third bowl seconds servers have left, you can eat your seconds and if you've finished your food, you can start cleaning your bowls with your setsu. The setsu is used to scrape up every bit of food. This is another chance to taste and appreciate the meal. Then the servers come back to collect the gomasio. After allowing time to scrape clean the bowls, the servers return with hot water. This water will clean all of your bowls and your utensils. The server will pour water in your Buddha bowl until you motion enough. I don't like to use a lot of water, but I also need enough to clean the sides of my bowls because I usually fill my second bowl to the top, so for me it's a delicate balance of when to motion the server enough. I've had careless servers pour very quickly, which is dangerous because this is tea-steeping hot water. I try to pour at a medium, steady pace and I try to pour onto the bowl surface to keep from making much splashing noise. Once you get water, start washing your bowls, beginning with the Buddha bowl and using the setsu to wash the spots not submerged by water. From the Buddha bowl, the water is poured into the second bowl, using the wiping cloth to dry off the Buddha bowl. Wash spoon and chopsticks in the second bowl, dry off on the wiping cloth and put back into the utensil holder. Wash the second bowl using the setsu, then pour the water in the third bowl and dry off the second bowl and place it in the Buddha bowl. If you have too much water, drink the extra from the second bowl. Clean the third bowl with the setsu, leave the water, and dry off the setsu and put the setsu on the utensil holder. The servers come in with one final service, buckets to discard your cleaning water, however, "This water we use to wash our bowls tastes like ambrosia. We offer it to the many spirits to satisfy them...". So it's not discarding but offering and it's polite to pour off all but a last sip so that you get a final taste of the entire meal offering. Once this bowl is empty, it can be dried off and nested in the second bowl and then the oryoki bowl set can be wrapped back up, folding the placemat cloth over the bowls, folding and replacing the lap napkin, replacing the utensils, stretching out and laying out the wiping cloth, and then tying the whole bundle up. Servers come in to wipe down the meal boards one more time, some final words from the Kokyo, and it's the end of meal service.
Although the meal is over for the receivers, the servers have yet to eat. We clean up all the gomasio and kettles and water buckets, as well as gather pots for the servers' meal. When we can sit down to our meal, it is also a formal event and we serve each other in a wrote way. All the same etiquette is observed as happens in the zendo. The entire crew needs to support each other throughout the entire serving action. It is a bonding experience all done in silence. This servers' meal becomes a deeper connection to each other, to our work, to the food. Beautiful things happen of the moment as a serving crew bonds. Intimacy is a better description of this bonding. When a crew is intimately connected, we move as one body, we fill in the holes intuitively. One of these beautiful moments was during sesshin. It was tea service on our second day of serving, so we were so familiar with each other and how we move and work. We were serving seconds on the tea, and with seconds one server starts at one end of the zendo while the second server starts at the other end and they walk along the people serving only those who have their hands in gassho, indicating the request for seconds, until the servers meet and then can walk quickly to the door to either exit or wait until all servers are at the door and bow together to exit. So as I came to meet my seconds serving partner, two people sitting right next to each other put their hands in gassho. Normally one server would serve the two, but because we arrived together we both bowed simultaneously, one in front of each of the receivers. These receivers were sitting on the floor, so both of us servers kneeled down in seiza, knees angled toward the altar, and poured the tea until the enough gesture, and stood back up to bow deeply to our individual receivers, and we did all of this completely in sync with each other, moving, breathing, pacing in time with each other. The woman I served smiled and bowed so deeply, my story is that she saw the same beauty in the moment that I did.
"May we with all beings realize the emptiness of the three wheels; giver, receiver, and gift."
Friday, February 1, 2013
Taking Refuge in Sangha
How's this for irony or foreboding or being careful of what you wish for? Almost immediately after I posted the last entry about taking care of yourself through this epidemic cold/flu/virus, I came down with it. It was interesting to notice each moment: how am I feeling now?, what do I need?, where does it hurt?, what is at the root of the pain?. Each moment shifted, rather quickly, and all I had to do was be in each moment with whatever was happening, without jumping ahead to panic. I think I still need to rest, but I feel well enough that tomorrow I'm back on the schedule.
Of course I could never have made it through the past couple of days alone. As independent as I am, I am also realizing that I need others just as much as others need me. Many of my friends in the sangha (community of practitioners, or your community) have been checking in on me and offering to bring me anything I might need. One of my closest friends has been a true hero by covering for me on doanryo, making sure I'm still conscious, and leaving the perfect care-packages of juice and tea on my front step. About a year ago, my boyfriend at the time tried to take care of me in such a way. I had a difficult time letting him help me because I have this idea of being seen as a strong, independent woman who can take care of herself, and not only take care of herself perfectly but also take care of everyone else at the same time. But being this isolatingly independent is not taking refuge in sangha and actually disparages sangha. The final of the ten grave precepts is Not to disparage the Triple Treasure, the triple treasure being Buddha, Dharma, and Sangha. So, how do I let go of my idea of how I want to project myself as this independent woman who needs no help?
I can see a little more clearly how my taking my ex-boyfriend's gestures of care taking personally with a bit of offense in feeling like a kept woman caused both of us great suffering. I still felt physically ill but now with a nugget of resentment towards my love, and he got upset and frustrated with me not accepting his help and probably feeling badly that he wasn't able to help me when he wanted to. Today, I saw how my body needed rest and juice at the same time, so when the offer was put out there, I didn't hesitate on accepting. If my friend was not taking care of me, I wouldn't be strong enough to write this blog right now. I love my friend dearly and would never want to subject anyone to seeing me pale, emaciated, unshowered, in my ugly pajamas, hair disheveled, and no makeup on, but this friend has not judged me on my appearance, and I think more importantly, I have not judged me on my appearance. I am ill. I look ill. I should just be ill when I'm ill.
Part of taking refuge in sangha is trusting them as much as they trust you. Yes, judgements will arise, but if you are being you, the sangha will accept and support you. My first days in the Green Gulch Intensive were perhaps stressful enough or a new environment enough to develop a very large zit on my face by my lips/chin. It was extremely visible, difficult to hide, painful, and even bled at one point. One of the admonitions during sesshins is about letting go of making yourself pretty. Because sesshin is a time of introspection and not about anything outside of yourself, it's advised to not wear makeup. I don't wear a lot of makeup, but I do feel more comfortable if I've put on powder foundation and eyeliner and mascara. With the zit and with washing my face often, I was wearing little to no makeup at Green Gulch and just letting my appearance be what it was at the time. Eventually the zit decreased in size and disappeared into a scar, and no one treated me any differently from when the zit was very large to when it was disappeared. And in fact, as time went on and the entire sangha got to know each other better, I felt closer and more comfortable with the people and forgot I had the giant zit on my face.
Asking for refuge is another aspect of taking refuge in sangha. This was a large question that I worked with and had difficulty with during my time at Green Gulch. My current situation is that I'm very unhappy living in my present flat with four other male roommates, stuck in my tiny room and being edged out of the kitchen and common areas. My schedule starts much earlier than theirs and ends much earlier than theirs. I also pay a lot to be a fifth roommate in a communal living situation. I pay more now than I did for the studio in the tenderloin I lived in for nine years. I am also losing clients due to the economy. I am a personal trainer and I work out of my private studio. My offering is affordable because I believe that moving your body regularly is part of a healthful lifestyle and not a luxury. However today for many of us, myself included, cost of living has increased while income has decreased and extras other than food and shelter are being scrutinized with frugality. I have even canceled my health insurance because I simply don't have enough money to pay for it. And although I know it is my responsibility as a small business owner to market my personal training business harder than ever, this is one of the things that I am not good at. Instead I have been listening to my heart wanting to delve into practice deeper. While I don't want to give up on my business and I haven't, I can't ignore my heart showing me what practice means to me. An answer to my question of where to live and how to afford it, how to delve into practice deeply, and how to make ends meet all around is to take refuge in the SFZC sangha and live, work, and practice there. It's been very difficult for me to say yes, it is time for me to live at Zen Center. It feels like I am a failure by not being successful business-wise right now. It feels like I'm asking too much to move into and rely on a community that I feel more comfortable helping and participating in from the outside. However, while I was at Green Gulch, my work and contribution to the community was so appreciated that the idea to stay and live and work there was presented. Also while I was there, the idea to live and work at City Center, my home sangha, and help out in extra and unique ways in which I was already being considered was presented, however living space would not be available to me until the end of March when this practice period ends. There was a lot for me to hold and look at and I struggled. My time at Green Gulch was so quiet and spacious like nothing I've ever experienced before. To be present in that for a year would be a delight, not to mention being around Reb, an amazing teacher and practitioner. However being in the city is how I practice and my business and my studio and my ability to make art are in the city. I don't want to make any decisions out of desperation and I want time to understand what choice I'm accepting. The truth is that I have only experienced Green Gulch for those Intensive three weeks, whereas I have been experiencing City Center consistently for two years. I have decided to move into City Center to deepen my practice, to live each moment with the precepts, to give of myself to the sangha, to look, listen, and learn deeply, and to become a city monk.
Of course I could never have made it through the past couple of days alone. As independent as I am, I am also realizing that I need others just as much as others need me. Many of my friends in the sangha (community of practitioners, or your community) have been checking in on me and offering to bring me anything I might need. One of my closest friends has been a true hero by covering for me on doanryo, making sure I'm still conscious, and leaving the perfect care-packages of juice and tea on my front step. About a year ago, my boyfriend at the time tried to take care of me in such a way. I had a difficult time letting him help me because I have this idea of being seen as a strong, independent woman who can take care of herself, and not only take care of herself perfectly but also take care of everyone else at the same time. But being this isolatingly independent is not taking refuge in sangha and actually disparages sangha. The final of the ten grave precepts is Not to disparage the Triple Treasure, the triple treasure being Buddha, Dharma, and Sangha. So, how do I let go of my idea of how I want to project myself as this independent woman who needs no help?
I can see a little more clearly how my taking my ex-boyfriend's gestures of care taking personally with a bit of offense in feeling like a kept woman caused both of us great suffering. I still felt physically ill but now with a nugget of resentment towards my love, and he got upset and frustrated with me not accepting his help and probably feeling badly that he wasn't able to help me when he wanted to. Today, I saw how my body needed rest and juice at the same time, so when the offer was put out there, I didn't hesitate on accepting. If my friend was not taking care of me, I wouldn't be strong enough to write this blog right now. I love my friend dearly and would never want to subject anyone to seeing me pale, emaciated, unshowered, in my ugly pajamas, hair disheveled, and no makeup on, but this friend has not judged me on my appearance, and I think more importantly, I have not judged me on my appearance. I am ill. I look ill. I should just be ill when I'm ill.
Part of taking refuge in sangha is trusting them as much as they trust you. Yes, judgements will arise, but if you are being you, the sangha will accept and support you. My first days in the Green Gulch Intensive were perhaps stressful enough or a new environment enough to develop a very large zit on my face by my lips/chin. It was extremely visible, difficult to hide, painful, and even bled at one point. One of the admonitions during sesshins is about letting go of making yourself pretty. Because sesshin is a time of introspection and not about anything outside of yourself, it's advised to not wear makeup. I don't wear a lot of makeup, but I do feel more comfortable if I've put on powder foundation and eyeliner and mascara. With the zit and with washing my face often, I was wearing little to no makeup at Green Gulch and just letting my appearance be what it was at the time. Eventually the zit decreased in size and disappeared into a scar, and no one treated me any differently from when the zit was very large to when it was disappeared. And in fact, as time went on and the entire sangha got to know each other better, I felt closer and more comfortable with the people and forgot I had the giant zit on my face.
Asking for refuge is another aspect of taking refuge in sangha. This was a large question that I worked with and had difficulty with during my time at Green Gulch. My current situation is that I'm very unhappy living in my present flat with four other male roommates, stuck in my tiny room and being edged out of the kitchen and common areas. My schedule starts much earlier than theirs and ends much earlier than theirs. I also pay a lot to be a fifth roommate in a communal living situation. I pay more now than I did for the studio in the tenderloin I lived in for nine years. I am also losing clients due to the economy. I am a personal trainer and I work out of my private studio. My offering is affordable because I believe that moving your body regularly is part of a healthful lifestyle and not a luxury. However today for many of us, myself included, cost of living has increased while income has decreased and extras other than food and shelter are being scrutinized with frugality. I have even canceled my health insurance because I simply don't have enough money to pay for it. And although I know it is my responsibility as a small business owner to market my personal training business harder than ever, this is one of the things that I am not good at. Instead I have been listening to my heart wanting to delve into practice deeper. While I don't want to give up on my business and I haven't, I can't ignore my heart showing me what practice means to me. An answer to my question of where to live and how to afford it, how to delve into practice deeply, and how to make ends meet all around is to take refuge in the SFZC sangha and live, work, and practice there. It's been very difficult for me to say yes, it is time for me to live at Zen Center. It feels like I am a failure by not being successful business-wise right now. It feels like I'm asking too much to move into and rely on a community that I feel more comfortable helping and participating in from the outside. However, while I was at Green Gulch, my work and contribution to the community was so appreciated that the idea to stay and live and work there was presented. Also while I was there, the idea to live and work at City Center, my home sangha, and help out in extra and unique ways in which I was already being considered was presented, however living space would not be available to me until the end of March when this practice period ends. There was a lot for me to hold and look at and I struggled. My time at Green Gulch was so quiet and spacious like nothing I've ever experienced before. To be present in that for a year would be a delight, not to mention being around Reb, an amazing teacher and practitioner. However being in the city is how I practice and my business and my studio and my ability to make art are in the city. I don't want to make any decisions out of desperation and I want time to understand what choice I'm accepting. The truth is that I have only experienced Green Gulch for those Intensive three weeks, whereas I have been experiencing City Center consistently for two years. I have decided to move into City Center to deepen my practice, to live each moment with the precepts, to give of myself to the sangha, to look, listen, and learn deeply, and to become a city monk.
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