3rd one day sit part 1: Letting go a little too much

Zazen: An interesting thing happened during my second period of zazen: I just felt what it feels like when I breathe. Now, I’ve focused on my breath before. I’ve even felt what it feels like to breathe, normally, during zazen. But every time I’ve done this, it’s been with a goal or an object in mind. I’ve focused on my breath to keep myself from thinking. And I’ve felt what it feels like to breathe so that I’ll know when I’m breathing right. But this time, I just felt my breath and I said, “This is what it feels like when you breathe.” It was interesting, I just breathed and felt it. And then, of course, my thoughts came rushing in and I went sailing away with them. But before that, for a little while, I just breathed.

This is something I've been trying to do during zazen: not judge myself. I've been more able to do this in my regular life, notice things about myself just as they are, not good or bad. But in zazen, even though I say "Oh, that's a thought," or "Come back to your breath," what I'm thinking is "Damn it, that's a thought, why can't you stop thinking?" and "Lame brain, you got carried away with your thoughts again. Better come back to your breath where you're supposed to be." But this morning, just feeling my breath, just to know it, was really different. I just felt it, that was all. I don't know what else to say about it other than I recommend it.

Soji: I got bathroom duty for soji again. It was interesting to do the same job for soji at this sitting as I had at the last one, because I was able to notice the change in my approach to it. Last time, all I could think about was whether or not I was doing everything on the list of cleaning instructions. I felt panicked that I wouldn’t get it done on time and that, because of that, I’d be judged as inept at cleaning the bathrooms and be downgraded to some other soji job. All of my energy was focused on “doing it right” and on “getting it done” before the bell rang. When the bell rang last time, I felt defeated and like a failure because I hadn’t taken out the garbage.

This time, even though the Ino said that we would have a short soji, I got everything done before the bell rang and even considered going back to the work leader for another job. Now, it’s possible that because this was my second time doing this job, I was faster at it but honestly, I don’t think that was it. I think that I just did what needed to be done. I emptied the garbage because it fills up quickly (and yes, because I wanted to finally finish what I hadn’t finished before) and I sprayed the fixtures with disinfectant because it seemed like that was the most important thing in cleaning the bathroom. My focus was on doing the job well- not so that others would approve of me, but because that’s just what you do. When you do things well, when you fully engage in them, they actually get done, whether or not you finish them.

When I finished with time to spare and considered going back to the work leader, I imagined her response to me, asking for more work. Then I thought, “You know what? I’ll bet this isn’t about getting lots of work done, it’s about doing the work well.” So I looked around the bathroom and noticed areas that needed cleaning and I cleaned them. And then the bell rang. And this time, I felt relieved instead of panicked, and very much willing to leave the bathroom the way it was.

Oryoki: I had a couple of instances during oryoki where I felt confused about the forms, mostly because what I thought was right, wasn’t what was being done. My first response was to ask the Ino about it later, just to confirm that I was right, but then I thought, “Really? Do you need to be right about this? Isn’t right what works? And, what’s right in this oryoki will likely be wrong in some other oryoki.”

I did learn one form though, about seconds. Asking for seconds is an individual thing, not a pair thing. So, if your pair wants seconds, they gassho for it but you don’t join in the gassho bow like you would normally do when a server comes to you.

The han: During the break after oryoki, I was pretty tired (I hadn’t slept well the night before) so I just sat in the courtyard and drank some tea. I didn’t check the schedule to see what was next or how long it was until the next event. Instead I tried to “let go” of time and just follow what the one day sit had in store for me next.  But then I heard the han and thought that was a funny thing to hear before the lecture. I looked at the Buddha hall and noticed that no one seemed to be setting up for the lecture. I told myself not to worry about getting a good seat, to just go when it was time to go and kept drinking my tea. Then I went to the bathroom, thinking we’d be going straight from lecture to zazen, and heard the han again so headed upstairs to the Buddha hall. There was still no one in the Buddha hall except a bunch of people who were not part of the one day sit. Finally the greeter said to me, “They’re downstairs, sitting zazen.” I put my hands up in idiocy, then bowed to her in gratitude, and rushed downstairs as she called “You can still sit in the gaitan…”

I shook my head as I sat down in the gaitan, embarrassed that I had completely forgotten about the second period of zazen. I considered going in to the zendo just to show that I really was there for the sitting, that I wasn’t flaking, and partly because I felt like I belonged in the zendo, not in the gaitan. But then I realized that walking in there to prove that I hadn’t forgotten, to show others that I belonged in there would also involve interrupting everyone with my footsteps and sitting down and that was definitely unnecessary. So, I stayed in the gaitan for the second period.

3rd One Day Sit: Hokey Pokey, the kitchen, and a new bow: the gasshu (gesundheit!)

Here are the highlights, details in the next post:

The Hokey Pokey (sing it with me): You turn your body to the left, (because you think it’s time for kinhin). You turn your body to the right, (because you realize it’s time for service). You put your hands in gassho (‘cause it’s time for prostrations) and shake yourself about (‘cause you can’t stop giggling at yourself)- that’s what it’s all about.  

The kitchen: SO MUCH FUN! It’s like you get to be someone else’s hands! You just stand there with your hands in shashu and do what the person in charge of the kitchen tells you to do. Then when the bell rings, you leave. Is the meal ready? Dunno. Did I get enough done? Doesn’t matter.  Was I present for all the chard that I ripped and washed? Yep. Was I aware of and present for the people working with me to rip and wash said chard? Yep.  Well then, get on with your bad self and go drink some tea ‘cause that’s what the schedule says to do.

At the work meeting, watching someone put their hands in shashu, but then raising it up to eye level because everyone around them was doing gassho. (It kind of looked like they were covering their mouth and nose like they were sneezing). Thinking what that combination bow would be called…Shasho? No. Gasshu? (Gachoo!) Definitely, and then biting a hole through my lip to keep from laughing about it.

Wondering if, like the full moon ceremony, there is a one-day-sitting-afternoon-zazen-ceremony. Apparently, this ceremony involves a silent zendo, 75 meditators willing to sit still for three periods of zazen, and an annoying noise. In the first one-day-sit, it was a chipper shredder and a chain saw. This time, I don’t know what it was, (other than annoying, metallic, and difficult to ignore). But I swear, it always happens during that afternoon zazen when it’s hardest (for me at least) to sit.   

Finally getting to empty the garbage can in the bathroom from my second one day sit.

“Letting go” of time so much that I forgot about the period of zazen before the dharma talk (I sat anyway, just in the gaitan).

Watching a server gently pick up each of the seven grains of jasmine rice that another server had spilled on the zendo floor.

Waiting for dokusan, hearing laughter, and thinking, “Oh yeah, if someone is laughing they’re having dokusan with Paul.” 

Learning (from Paul) the phrase, "You have a propensity for..." and then using it to see all those things about myself that I'd rather not look at (or admit).

Sitting with friends. Not zazen sitting, just sitting on a couch or at a table- without making eye contact or talking.

Only low point: having to choose between standing up the abbot or standing up my dad.

I give in Part 4: It's your breakfast

So, I got to lecture late, but guess what the speaker’s topic was? Continued practice! I was kind of excited. I had just discovered that I needed to be doing continued practice and here was Vikki, about to tell me what I needed to do to do that.

Her talk was really good and I recommend that you listen to it online. However, I can’t remember what she said about continued practice because about two thirds of the way through her lecture, she somehow incorporated that darn koan about stepping off the 100 foot pole! (I swear, she and Paul must be in cahoots on this one.) She described Suzuki Roshi’s response to the koan (I’m paraphrasing):

In the morning, my wife hits the clappers and calls me to breakfast, calls me off my 100 foot pole. It is easy, if I answer yes, she will stop hitting the clappers and I will go to eat breakfast. But I do not answer yes. Instead I want to say to her, “What are you doing? Don’t you see that I am busy? Don’t you see that I am doing important things?” and so I don’t answer, and she continues to hit the clappers and I stay on my 100 foot pole. It is simple, step off the pole and go eat your breakfast.

And I realize that that’s what I’m doing. I’m sitting on this pole of fear, rationalizing it by making it seem important: I need more sleep so I should skip zazen, I’m only going to practice the parts of zen that benefit my classroom, I’ll step off when I feel like I’m ready to step off. So here I sit, on this 100 foot pole, afraid to step off, for breakfast?

Because that’s what zazen has been for me: breakfast. It’s what I need to nourish me in the morning and to keep me going throughout the day. Unfortunately, my fears around it have led me to set it up as some adversary to my life, some force that will suck me in as soon as I commit to it. But really, it’s what makes me happy, and the pole is what’s keeping me from enjoying it.

So, I’m stepping off. I don’t think it’s so much that I want breakfast, it’s more that I see that I’m the one who made up the pole. And honestly, the pole really isn’t that great anyway and what’s below it- a community of people committed to benefiting all beings- that’s way better than sitting alone on top of a 100 foot pole.

I give in Part 3: No peeking

On Saturday morning, I woke up, went to zazen, and came home. When I walked in the door, I realized that I had forgotten to put on my watch when I woke up that morning. “Ha!” I thought to myself. “Someday, I’ll be able to go through the day without wearing a watch! But not today….” Still, I waited to put my watch on and tried to “let go” of time for as long as I could.

I ate my breakfast, and, as I walked back to my room to get dressed to go grocery shopping, I passed the clock in the bathroom.  

“It won’t hurt to take a peek,” I thought. “Besides,” I continued. “I’m supposed to be aware of my relationship with time, not just avoid my issues with it altogether.”

So, I looked at the clock: 7:38. “Okay, normally I would rush so that I could get to Target when it opened, so that I could get to Trader Joe’s in time to shop to fill the time until Bed Bath and Beyond opens at 9 so that I can get back in time for 10AM lecture. But today I’m going to be aware of myself, know this, and, instead of rushing, drink my tea at home instead of while I drive.”

As I was drinking my tea, I was estimating how much time it was taking to drink it, then estimating how long it would take to drive to Target, what time I should leave Target to get to Trader Joe’s, how much time I had to shop at Trader Joe’s, and what time I should be leaving Bed Bath and Beyond in order to get home in time for lecture. All the while I was feeling like I was being aware of my issues with time.

I got in my car and looked at the clock. At Trader Joe’s, as I decided which line to stand in, I started to look at the clock but then remembered to just be in the moment, and took a deep breath instead. But then, as soon as I got in the car, I looked at the clock again. Then I sped through every light in Hayes Valley, thought about all the darn tourists and how they were taking my parking spots and making me late, and thought that if I just unloaded the perishables in my grocery bag, I might not be late. Finally, as I was parking the car, I just accepted that I would get to the zen center when I got to the zen center.

I was late to the zen center, but not so late that I missed anything. But I only knew I was late because of that first peek at the clock this morning. That little peek was what set in motion all those thoughts about time. I’m not saying I shouldn’t have peeked, I’m just saying that when I peeked, I peeked. I gave in. I didn’t look at the clock with awareness or inquiry, I looked at the clock within the same habit that I’ve always had: to gauge myself and my progress. And once I dipped my toe into that habit, it all came flooding in and made it that much harder for me to see myself and not be controlled by my habits and thoughts. I realized that you can’t just do this practice sometimes, you kind of have to do it all the time. Actually, you don’t have to do it at all, but if you want to be free from your thoughts and habits, you have to keep practicing all the time. Darn it!

I give in Part 2: This stuff actually works

The next day, I had a day off of work (it was Veteran’s day).  I had a whole day in front of me with only one responsibility: to have lunch with the practitioner who had lead my second Beginner’s One Day Sit.  Normally, on my day off, I make a list of all the things I want to get done. I time opening of stores with traffic with the time at which my roommates wake up, all in an attempt to make the most of having a WEEK day to myself. But this day, I just did what I did. I did laundry. I caramelized onions. I cleaned my room. I tried to fix my computer.

There were a bunch of times when I said to myself: It’s ten o’clock, what have you done? It’s noon, the day is half over! Hurry up, the sun is going down, you need to get this done before then. But each time these thoughts came up, I just acknowledged them as thoughts, as habits, as my stuff. I wasn’t mad about them, I just looked at them for what they were: insistent little kids who want my attention.  

At the same time, I was having the opposite experience with my thoughts around food.  Immediately after coming back from the zen center where I had had a full breakfast of delicious tofu, miso soup, and rice porridge, I felt this need to eat. At first, I rationalized the thought: I decided I was thirsty and so I drank some juice. But then, I still wanted to eat.

“You’re totally full!” I said to myself, but then I ate a banana anyway. And then I ate an orange. I went to my room and cleaned for a while, then brought something into the kitchen and decided I should eat some yogurt.

“Seriously, you just ate!” I told myself. “Save the yogurt for later!” But instead, I opened the fridge. There, next to the yogurt was the leftover chocolate fudge I had made for my friends who had gotten mammograms. I ate it.

“Dude! It’s 9 in the morning, and you are eating fudge! And you just ate a full breakfast! Stop it!” But I didn’t. Instead, I grabbed the mint fudge I had made, and ate all of that too.

“Okay,” I said to myself. “You just rushed through two delicious things of fudge without even tasting them! Stop this!” I stopped for a little while but came back a half hour later and had some chips and salsa.

So then I asked myself, “Why am I so mellow with my thoughts about time but so controlled by my thoughts about eating?”

And then I remembered that at the beginning of the practice period, the first thing I tried to “let go” of was time. And when I did this, I hadn’t done it with a goal or to reach some place in which I was free from suffering around time, I had just agreed to “let go” of it. And in doing this, I had started watching my relationship with time, learning my habits and making peace with them.

“Oh,” I thought. “I guess that means that I need to ‘let go’ of food. “ And by that I simply mean that if I want to not feel the way I did at the end of today (bloated, full of fudge that I didn’t even enjoy because I was just eating it, and kind of sick from food that was just snacky, not so wholesome), I need to spend some time observing my relationship with food.  Notice it, experiment with it, see what my habits are around it. Maybe, just maybe, those thoughts will lose their power the way my thoughts around time have. Because my thoughts around time have lost their power because I actually practiced making peace with them and developing an awareness around my relationship with them. Huh- look at that, this practice actually works!

I give in Part 1: You have to get off the pole

So, I finally gave in. I admit it, I like Buddhist practice and I’m going to study it even when it’s inconvenient and obnoxious. Buddhist practice is not out to get me and it’s not going to ruin my life. Sitting zazen is helpful and reconceptualizing the universe is not as abstract as it seems. Also, the abbot of the zen center knows what he’s doing…Darn it! No more good excuses! Here’s how it happened, in four parts:

Part 1: You have to get off the pole

In class on Thursday night, I raised my hand to share my own experience with the 100 foot pole koan: that there really is no pole, so jumping off of it isn’t that bad, since I’m actually not on it anyway. Lots of people shared their experience with the hot and cold koan and I felt a little guilty for not doing the homework. But I also felt like I had had a mini crisis this week and so wasn’t ready to actually “jump off” the pole. It seemed reasonable for me to do this, considering that last week I was ready to completely abandon the practice but hadn’t. So for now, I was just staying still, like someone trying to find their bearings after a storm has completely  blown them over.

As I listened to Paul continue to talk about the koans, I kept hoping he’d get to a part where he’d describe some zen practice of standing still, of letting things pass you by, of resettling after you’ve come to a realization. But he just kept talking about stepping off the pole. He talked about how to step off, the importance of stepping off, what stepping off looked and felt like in our everyday lives. Finally I raised my hand, “Is there ever a time when staying still would be the same as stepping off?”

He responded by talking about the importance of being aware and noticing and responding and that in that sense, there’s a place for stillness in practice but mostly, he just said… no- staying still is not stepping off.

Damn.