In a Moment

You must learn to be still in the midst of activity and to be vibrantly alive in repose. - Indira Gandhi in the Zen Calendar (May 22, 2003).

Day 74. April showers brought a slow soak to this weekend. So many shades of green.

I have just returned from a first glimpse of my son playing Division One football. I must say, he looks good in blue. He IS blue, because he only got playing time on special teams. And by "special" I'm supposed to mean the receiving team on punts, but secretly I believe any team he graces is extraordinarily special. He would murder me in my sleep if he knew I wrote that. Luckily, he isn't the least bit interested in his mother's blog.

The Monkeys were frenetic this evening as I sat in the stadium watching a spring traditional in which offenses and defenses on the same team try to avoid injuring one another while simultaneously showing off for the dedicated fans that show up in the rain to catch a glimmer of what's coming in the fall. My thought symphony reached a crescendo as I compared the size of my son to other players on the field. Don't get hurt (get some playing time) don't get hurt (but tackle the stuffing out of that guy in front of you) don't get hurt ( you'd better not miss your block) don't get hurt (that coach sure yells a lot) don't get hurt (wonder how many years you'll play) don't get hurt (will you ever start?) don't get hurt (will you travel with the team?) don't get hurt (it is very cool that you and your best friend since the age of four are playing college ball together) DON'T GET HURT!! Stress and exhilaration seem to be my chronic state of being.

A deep belly breath blew in from nowhere, as though the Chattering Monkeys had somehow beckoned. I drew another and another. In less than five breaths, the most amazing thing happened. I was seized in the moment. It gobbled me up. My time and space continuum slowed and expanded. Colors on the field sizzled. I felt individual drops of rain as they gently moistened my skin. Players stood in stark relief against the dazzling green astroturf. The numbers on their jerseys blazed as though lit from within. Briefly, I was buoyed with exuberance.

My brain, with its customary urgency to save me from nirvana, released a torrent of thought about what I was experiencing. Bummer. I time traveled forward to three or four years from now when my beloved won't be on the field at all. Every molecule of my being centered on Now. I recognized how precious that exact moment was. I kept breathing from my center and marinated in the present. It was delicious. Despite my best efforts, I felt smug and superior for so completely participating in each second as it elapsed. I laughed at myself heartily, kept breathing, released thought and went balmy with acceptance. And gratitude. Always gratitude.

My zazen practice delivers gifts at the most uncanny times. I never imagined the Monkeys might herald such a miraculous moment in broad daylight. I wasn't even on my cushion. Sitting on that hard stadium seat, however, my practice found me. And gave me in a perfect moment.

Gassho,
CycleBuddhaDoc