Unknown's avatar

muddy waters

I’m not sure if I’ll have internet connections over the next two weeks.  Then again, diving into the Upaya Chaplaincy Program may not leave me with much time to submit missives from the front!  So, anticipating the latter, I’ve set up the first chapter of the guidebook for our mindfulness program as a series of posts.  I hope you find it useful.


How mysterious!
The lotus remains unstained

By its muddy roots,

Delivering shimmering
Bright jewels from common dew.

Sojo Henjo

Muddy Waters

Our mental life is like a glass filled with water and mud.  Sometimes the contents are still and settled.  We can live adequately with the fact that parts of our life are clear and other parts are mucky with slime and ooze.  In fact, many Buddhist teachers say that slime and ooze is crucial to our personal growth.  Lotuses begin their life in the mud, cradled and nourished there until the blooms rise above the water clean and untainted by the messiness under water.  It’s an inspiring image because most of us aspire to rise above all the inner turmoil and “ickiness” to be beautiful.  We want to be able to roll with the punches, share in the joys of others, and take in a beautiful sunset.

Sometimes, the contents of the glass are stirred up.  When we experience anger, anxiety, depression, frustration, grief, loss, or some challenge to our perception of ourselves or others, mud and water mix to form a system that is murky.  In these moments, we lose sight of the clarity of water and all we see is a mess of mud.  Whatever we have encountered seems to be the entirety of our being.

In the poem, The Guesthouse, Rumi asks us to invite in as guests depression, meanness, dark thoughts, shame, and malice as a way of learning from these experiences.  However, when we are overcome with such muddiness, it feels like these visitors have taken up every nook and cranny of our mind with no room left for love, compassion, joy or kindness.  In fact, we can become quite convinced that the clarity of the water that we saw over the mud was an illusion and the muddy mixture is the absolute reality.  We come to believe the worst of whoever has hurt us.  The roadblock in our career path takes on monumental proportions.  The consequence of a lost contract or upset client becomes a catastrophe that will threaten our lifestyle.  The end of a relationship or of good health seems like the end of our life.  In that mental state, we take our unskillful actions as evidence of our unworthiness.

Next: Autopilot

Unknown's avatar

wake and walk out

If I flinched at every grief, I
would be an intelligent idiot.  If

I were not the sun, I’d ebb and
flow like sadness.  If you were not

my guide, I’d wander lost in Sanai.
If there were no light, I’d keep

opening and closing the door.  If
there were no rose garden, where

would the morning breezes go?  If
love did not want music and laughter

and poetry, what would I say?  If
you were not medicine, I would look

sick and skinny.  If there were no
leafy limbs in the air, there would

be no wet roots.  If no giftes were
given, I’d grow arrogant and cruel.

If there were no way into God, I
would not have lain in the grave of

this body so long.  If there were no
way from left to right, I could not

be swaying with the grasses.  If
there were no grace and no kindness,

conversation would be useless, and
nothing we do would matter.  Listen

to the new stories that begin every
day.  If light were not beginning

again in the east, I would not now
wake and walk out inside this dawn.

Rumi

(from The Soul of Rumi: a new collection of ecstatic poems

translated by Coleman Barks)