Sometimes there is a great sky against which I can place practice.  The zazenkai (aka Day of Mindfulness) is a sky like that.  The day starts the day before as we gather the tools of the trade: assorted teas, hot water heater, bells, poetry, yoga mats, & cushions.  I’ve learned to let the day unfold, no longer so anxious that I need to orchestrate every minute of the meditation.  The room is a lovely open space nestled at the end of a side hall in the Eastern Orthodox Religion Department of a local university.  Participants gather at 0915 and we start promptly at 0930 with an introduction to the space we will occupy for the next six hours.  This time just after the intro, the meditation is derailed by Frank’s announcement that the parking is no longer free on a Sunday; half the participants have to head out and pay for their parking downstairs.  This moment is what I fondly call a nodal point of equanimity.

There is  a choice here.  I can drop my vision to the ground and see only the slush and muck we’re about to fall into.  I can raise my eyes and see the great sky against which practice can stand.  This is the third turning of the wheel of the Third Noble Truth: the encouragement or reinforcement of useful, beneficial actions that lead to well-being.

We’re professional enough that glitches in the flow of a presentation tend to be met fairly well; the flow of a whole retreat day however is somewhat more challenging.  What I have noticed is the loud, obnoxious chatter in my head that saps the energy usually required to think on my feet (or in this case, on my butt which is on the cushion).  Sometimes, that chatter can leak out as a manic cheerfulness designed to reassure everyone that the world is not about to come to an end.  I think there was a day when I realized that, not only was I not kidding anybody about how I was not coping, I was also assuming everyone else was having the same reaction to the event.  On this day, facing the empty seats in the hall, I realized I had a powerful tool: a non-discriminatory agenda.  It didn’t matter a heck of a lot if we started with a sitting meditation, mindful movements, or dancing a jig.  We did 15 minutes of mindful movements which gave everyone a chance to return to the room and slide into the sitting meditation.

I’ve been noticing a lot of online commentary about practice not being magic.  True enough.  It can look like that though, so I find it important to remind myself that practice is a never-ending series of nodal points where a decision can be made.  And the longer I practice the more seamless those transitions from one node to another might be on that big sky canvas.

Thank you for practising,

Genju

Over the last two weeks, we’ve facilitated two all-day meditation sessions.  Zazenkai or Days of Mindfulness, depending on tradition and ease of use, are a challenge to organize and even more of a challenge to commit the time to attend.  My days tend to be packed – I’m starting to realize they are – and the idea of taking a whole day to sit around, breathing, eating, and listening to a talk is hard to justify from a purely time-economy perspective.  And yet, when we run one, even though it’s because we have to, I never regret the time spent.

You may have hooked onto the idea that we have to – or like good Buddhists, you’re likely asking us to challenge the perception that we have to.  At one time, I may have caved and said, “Well no, we don’t HAVE to have to.  I just mean that blahblahblah…”  Today, I would say, “Yup.  We have to.  It’s what we do.  We practise.  And we practise a Day of Mindfulness once a month because we have to.”  In fact, in the context of the Four Noble Truths there are no options about practice.

Over the last few posts we’ve explored the First and Second Noble Truths.  To recap, the First Noble Truth is about the Power of Perception and the Second Noble Truth is about the Power of Deception.  (Yes, I should have said that earlier but honestly, I just figured it out so you’re getting it hot off the neuronal press.)

The Third Noble Truth is about the Power of Cessation.  And a day spent practising how to seamlessly flow from one moment to the next is precisely that.  It is about stopping, ceasing the battle between the mind and body.

I wrote in our clinic guidebook that meditation is often seen as a harsh taskmaster.  It takes no prisoners in the battle of wills between body and mind.  But perhaps, we would do better to see meditation as not creating that battlefield.  And it may be more useful to see it as an opportunity to create a space in which we can stop.  Hence the need to practise in an all-day setting.  It just takes that long to recognize the need to stop.  Recognition, the first turning of the wheel in the Third Noble Truth, is crucial to the practice of cessation.  If I can’t see that I’m going full tilt and likely off the rails too, I’m not going to see the need to slow down and take stock of my situation.

Lately, I’ve been hearing my friends and colleagues recite a little chant every time they are with me.  It goes something like this: Gosh, you do so much.  Gosh, you’re involved in so many things.  My first reaction (what cessation?) was to laugh it off: Don’t say that!  I’ll trip and fall on my nose!  Going full tilt means I’m also playing with those nasty triplets: craving, rejection, and delusion.  Or at the very least, it means I’m less aware of how often I’m playing with them.  Of course, the nerdy ones, generosity, acceptance, and wisdom, are also residents of my ghetto mind and stopping means I remember to find time for them too.

The Third Noble Truth is about the Power of Cessation.  It is about the power of seeing what is enough.  It is about the power of seeing all of what is already here.  There’s no other option.

Thank you for practising,

Genju