Regression Confession

When you learn to accept instead of expect, you'll have fewer disappointments. - Robert Fisher in "The Knight in Rusty Armor"

Day 16. I love to blog. It's all that Life Stuff taking me away from my keyboard that gets on my nerves.

I've come to heavily rely upon my interpretation of the heart of Buddha's teaching: Suffering is, essentially, that space between what we prefer (desire, expect, get attached to) and what IS. I often say to my clients, "Every time I take on Reality, guess who wins?" This understanding makes the "accept" part of the above quote much easier to, well, accept.

Take, for example, the erratic experiences I'm having on my cushion. I realize that I joke on here a lot about "not trying to attain anything" - and I know my Best Buddhist Self is committed to the notion of no-attainment. But theory and practice are two different things. I sincerely try not to carry any expectations into any given sit session. But I can't seem to help feeling stunned and insulted when things sometimes go very badly. Even during times when I think I'm sitting as if my life depended on it. Take, for example, yesterday evening. Every aspect of zazen felt like it was fighting back at me. I knocked my head on my closet door when doing my first side stretch. I could not seem to sit up straight for more than two or three seconds without slumping. My ankles and legs and hips hurt. My mudra looked sunken and sloppy. My mind would not even bother to produce Monkey Chatter -- it was too busy criticizing my slovenly sitting. Never felt relaxed, peaceful, focused, quiet, or even comfortable -- much less enlightened. For the first time in several days, I obsessed on the timer and the eternity of 20 minutes. I felt discouraged, regressed, and embarrassed as the name of tonight's blog flickered across my mind, and I knew I was going to be honest. Recognized I would have to table the writing of all my brilliant and creative ideas for yet another night.

At some point near the end of my ordeal, I felt my mouth curling into the half smile we so often see on representations of the Buddha. A light mixture of humor, relief, laughter, glee and grace bubbled up from my belly. Metaphorically, I poured a froth of acceptance into the mix and stirred rigorously. Abruptly, I felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude for my zazen practice and all my teacher taught me. Zazen isn't good or bad. If we approach it sincerely, with genuine intent, we have done enough. There truly is nothing to attain. I teach my clients a concept called Radical Acceptance, and for a few moments last night, as I dusted off the imaginary dirt from my cushion, I was bathed in it. I knew that tomorrow, and the next night and the next and the next, I will return to my cushion.

Always an adventure, always a surprise. Never a disappointment.

Gassho,
CycleBuddhaDoc