Five days of sesshin, literally “to touch the heart and mind,” an intensive Zen meditation retreat. I think there is one spot, perhaps a quarter of an inch square on my left knee that isn’t sore. And of course the physical demands of a Zen retreat are nothing compared to facing the workings of one’s mind. The worst of times. And, absolutely, the best of times. Deep spaces. Profound silences. Intimate moments, one after another. Old, old friends, and some new ones, sitting together and sitting together with the larger community of practice around the country, around the globe, all of us honoring Rohatsu, the eighth day of the twelfth month – the time we honor that morning of our dream time when Gautama Siddhartha, having lived in opulence, and rejected it, having lived in privation and self torture, and rejected it, sat silently, attentively, and in the morning looking at Venus rising, woke up…
Ah…
I see…
The whole world and I…
We awake
Together.
And, now, I’m back.
A flurry of meetings, and cancellations to turn my attention to a death within the congregation, and a memorial, and the celebration and mourning of another life.
All one…
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