Buddha Belly, Blogging Brain

Let's get physical - physical. I wanna get physical. Let me hear your body talk - your body talk. - Olivia Newton John from "Let's Get Physical"

Day 46. Snow without mountains. I like the combo better.

One of our dogs, Katy, is a border collie/blue heeler mix. If you know anything about these two breeds, it will not be surprising to hear that scientists have actually discovered an Attention Deficit Disorder gene in the bloodline. Compared to Katy, gnats exhibit deep concentration. She blends well with our family because our motto is, "I saw something shiny." This serves as an all-purpose excuse for our tendency to interrupt, lose track of a thought mid-sentence, and walk into a room to get something, only to have to exit and re-enter so we can remember what it was.

I feel great love and appreciation for Katy, probably because I so strongly identify with her. She is only happy when she is on task -- when she thinks she has a job. Currently our acre is void of cattle or sheep for her to herd, so she keeps busy by chasing leaves. And by "chasing" I mean herding; she snatches blowing leaves up with her mouth and deposits them in a pile by the house. Katy does this all day long, but is never in danger of running out of leaves because she pauses every three to five seconds when she sees something shiny. Or hears a bird, dog, plane, squirrel, postal carrier, delivery person, or any other sentient being within a five mile radius. If she sees or hears ANYTHING, she has to investigate. The dog cannot filter. If I ever DO own sheep or cattle, or have grandchildren for that matter, I will trust their lives to Katy. She is the most diligent, vigilant shepherd I have ever witnessed. She can't help it. It is her nature.

Buddhism teaches us to observe and accept the true nature of things. Herding breeds herd. Over centuries, evolution has perfected a biologically driven mechanism to make these dogs intensely observant, energetic, hard-working, and attentive. So attentive that, if we are not mindful of their nature, we erroneously judge them to be inattentive. They simply can't NOT attend to every miniscule nuance of their environment. Talk about living in the moment. Katy appears to live in the nanosecond.

I think sitting meditation is making my brain evolve like Katy's. I'll have to check with other bloggers (which undoubtedly will require a cyber-skill I have as yet to attain), but I suspect that an occupational hazard of blogging is that, over time, your brain scrutinizes every stimuli as potential blog material. It's making me a little crazy. Rather than being mindful and present in the moment, I am constantly swirling words in my head - associating to them, arranging them into titles, integrating ideas into possible grist for my blogging mill. It's especially annoying when I am trying to sit zazen. I've written before about this paradox: my blogging brain revs up like a toddler on Skittles, resulting in manic Monkeys when I attempt to meditate. Who's idea was it, anyway, to combine such opposing practices?? Oh yeah. Mine.

My brain is not the only part of my anatomy impacted by this endeavor. After amassing additional data, I have changed my diagnosis of Wii Elbow to Zazen Elbow. Perhaps I am holding my mudra at an awkward angle. Does this quality as a sports injury? I hope so, because they seem to carry more prestige. To top it all off, I'm developing a Buddha Belly. At least Julie in Julie/Julia gained weight while getting to eat delectable French cuisine. My pouch is protruding because I am too tired after blogging and sitting to do my nightly stretching regime.

My inner critic says be a better time manager. My inner Buddha nature says there are worse things than having a pouch. Especially when your soul is waking up.

Gassho,
CycleBuddhaDoc