Wanting It All: Part Two Million, Four Thousand, Two Hundred, and Sixty Seven

A couple of days ago I awoke with a sore throat.

Since then whatever the bug is it has decided to take up residence in my chest.

My brain is not much worse than usual, except for an ongoing, although so far low grade headache… But I’m increasingly anxious about having a voice on Sunday.

And this is our big all church family fun filled Christmas pick-up pageant. We tell the Luke version of the Christmas story pretty much straight, although we stop at various moments to announce we need six pigs, a goat, three camels, and an elephant (based upon whatever partial costumes we have, often no more than a nose) or seventeen stars, or sixteen angels… Gradually the holy family (meaning a family with the youngest child old enough to be likely to finish the procession. This year we just barely missed having a two mommy holy family. But that’s the lottery…) make their way to the dais beneath our great bench pulpit, culminating with all participants in a lovely if a tad on the ragged side tableau. At that moment about a third of the congregation are part of the scene. We hold a moment, then quickly draw the service to an end.

I love it. As do most of the congregation. (We are a crowd that includes as beloved members folk who get hives whenever anything Christian goes on. Others get hives when God isn’t mentioned. And all, of course, willing to let me know where I’ve erred. Keeps me on my toes…)

And I get to be the principal narrator, so I really, really need that voice.

And this Saturday is the funeral for Daido Loori, one of the major players on the American Zen scene over the past decade or two. I’m scheduled to attend together with my co-teachers at Boundless Way. But that’s a four hour drive to Woodstock from Worcester, from where we’d be taking off (and therefore another hour for me to get there), and the same to get back. It’s a very long day…

(And with snow in the forecast…)

Paying respect is an important thing. Actually a very important thing.

And I’ve been looking forward to spending a day with my dear friends and teaching colleagues, something we’ve not been able to do for quite a while. Also we were going to meet some other friends for lunch before the service. And at an event like this one sees a lot of people one knows but doesn’t spend much time with.

So, I’ve been looking forward to this as much as one can look forward to a funeral.

And my head hurts.

As does my chest.

And I must, if I can, be rested and have the voice for Sunday.

Rats.

Once again, the Buddha puts his finger on it. As he is said to have said, as recorded in the Upajjhatthana_Sutta:

I am of the nature to grow old.
There is no way to escape growing old.

I am of the nature to have ill heath.
There is no way to escape having ill health.

I am of the nature to die.
There is no way to escape death.

All that is dear to me and everyone I love are of the nature of change. There is no way to escape being separated from them.

My deeds are my closest companions.
I am the beneficiary of my deeds.
My deeds are the ground on which I stand.

Doing the right thing probably means staying home tomorrow.

It certainly means being present to the community on Sunday.

I suspect Daido would understand.

And, still, I feel a little sad…