More Mu.

I was at an art retreat with Stephen Addiss at Zen Mountain Monastery.  We practiced with the kanji character for mu and I was having all kinds of trouble.  Of course you were, you say.  That’s just who mu is.  

If you’ve seen the formal script for Mu, you’ll know there are four lines in the middle and four dots at the base.  For whatever the reason, I just couldn’t get the lines to look like lines.  Now that may seem very strange because, after all, how hard can it be to just draw four tilted lines.  Well it was until I figured out that there was some trust that had to be placed into the relationship I have with the observers of my efforts.

That they would perceive whatever line and tilt was necessary to facilitate our ongoing dance with each other.

Mu.

Part of the return to health has included a return to yoga every week.  I’ve missed it.  So too have my core muscles because apparently they are on strike – or having a tantrum.  But I committed to approaching yoga this time with a truly non-competitive attitude.  The teacher often says about certain poses, “When in doubt, leave it out.”  And I catch myself saying, “Hah!  Didn’t have to with that one!”

If “No” is a form of Mu then that was a Mu-Mu.

For 75 minutes twice a week, I watch my nonsense mind make so much more of every moment than it needs to.  And thankfully my body doesn’t listen.  Or at least, my muscles don’t because as time passed, strength accrued with diligence.

So, I’m learning.  What needs to be left out most is that need to be more than what is possible at this moment.  That’s not to say more isn’t available in the next moment; just not this one.  And in a yoga school as in a zen community or any place at all, there are ample opportunities to want more.    I’ve been successful at passing up the 200-hour yoga teacher’s course and the 5-day yoga intensive.  I’ve let go of teacher trainings on some beautiful beach somewhere and I’ve even resisted heading down to Toronto to train with the Yoga for Round Bodies folks!

Mu!