"Well. You know what Buddhists would say? You must have some karmic
connection that keeps bringing you back..." � the woman checking me
into the
Roots Institute of Wisdom Buddhist Retreat Center, Bodhgaya (Bihar), India
And
even I have to admit that finding myself again in a Buddhist learning
and meditation center for the 7th time in 7 years, does cross the line
of coincidence. Even if I tried to deny it, my "connection" still
manages to leak out in a "glow" that others have told they observe of
me (when I'm in retreat), and the unexplainable tears in which my eyes
well each time I encounter another special lama, geshe or monk who
steals my heart with his laugh and mirror of love.
Buddhism
certainly is, as I was taught, a graduated path. Like my height inching
up the notches on the wall in grade school, it is hard to recognize how
much I've grown since my first class. Today, I sit in meditation and
wonder, "Wait? When did it stop being painful to sit? When did I stop
stealing restless sneak peeks at my watch? When did my legs stop
falling asleep? When did I stop "treating" myself to daydreams and
fantasies? When did I stop hurling mental obscenities at the person
whose voice is leading the analytical meditation? And since when am I
able to sit for forty minutes without moving, on mental task, and at
peace?"
I remember sharing a meditation hall with people like me
and hating them, "You think you're enlightened, don't you? Well. I hate
you and your perfect posture. And I might spend my next meditation
fantasizing about hitting you with my meditation cushion." (Okay. I
know that's a harsh and embarrassing line of thought. But try
"meditating" for 11 hours a day, and see what pops into your head on
the 6th day.)
In any case, if I hadn't already given it away,
not whisky or affairs or high-speed sports, but ANGER is my poison.
Don't worry. No one that "knows me", would know it. (Well, maybe a
special few.) Because as an expert suppressor of unkind emotions, I
usually just bottle my poison and then grind my teeth through the
night, bite at my cuticles, and connive especially smart ways to "bite"
in sneaky emails. Are you getting afraid? So am I.
And as my
last teacher correctly told me in response to my question, "Ah yes
dear. So you're beginning to worry that you're a terrible human being
who acts only under the influence of her afflictions and delusions?
Then the dharma (teachings of Buddha) is finally sinking into you! (And
the denial out.) They say it takes at least three teachings before you
hear it for the first time. So welcome! And don't worry. We can't begin
to fix our flaws unless we recognize them. The only teacher more
powerful than Buddha himself, is your suffering and struggle."
That's some sneaky reassurance.
Anyway,
a "simultaneously-up-and-down" graduated path, I'd like to correct it
for the record. For it seems that for every additional minute I am able
to sit in mindful concentration and awareness, I am rewarded with the
realization of the plummeting immaturity and reckless state of my mind.
Meditation IS exhausting.
And yet.
I am sleeping two
hours less each night. I wake up remembering each of my dreams in vivid
detail. My breath is deepening. My awareness heightening. My
appreciation strengthening. So meditation is also
walking-down-the-UP-escalator and, to the observer, walking-in-place.
If you wanted circles and conundrums, look no farther than Buddhism.
Have you ever noticed the soft and sneaky smirk on Buddha's lips? If I
might borrow the quote of a dear friend and apply it the prophet: "He's
not laughing at you. You're just not laughing with him."
Anyway.
I escaped the retreat center for only a minute in the name of business.
So I have to get back to it. If my chatty mood (I've been in silence
for six days) confused the message, do let it be clear that I love
Buddha. His teachings, of all the religions I've studied, have had the
most profound impact on my relationship to the world and the human
beings that inhabit it. If you're feeling curious, duped by, or
clueless to, the world as you know it, and have a sneaking suspicion of
a much bigger mystery that's tooling you around like a kitten a yarn
ball, then I can't more highly recommend a course in Buddhism as the
most pragmatic and experiential path to self-discovery that I've yet
encountered.
And as I've been musing through the day, I don't
think I've ever met a Buddhist I didn't highly respect and love.
If you'd like some
material, this is what I've been read- (and re-reading) this week from
two of my favorite human beings, both of whom I've had the great karma
to bow my thanks to in person:
ANGER: Wisdom for Cooling the Flames - Thick Nhat Hanh
Healing Anger: The Power of Patience from a Buddhist Perspective by H. H. The Dalai Lama
Old Path White Clouds � Walking in the Footsteps of Buddha � Thick Nhat Hanh
The Art of Happiness � by H.H. The Dalai Lama
The Stone Boy � Thich Nhat Hanh
Back to my (business, and) retreating.
