Walking the Walk

Learning and thinking are like being outside the door; sitting in meditation is returning home to sit in peace. - The Buddha in the Zen Calendar (September 4, 2006)

Day 69. I'm over my worries about being formulatic. Formulaesque? Formulistic? Evidently, I am also over my fear of using words I invent myself if the one I need doesn't yet exist.

When I first began this endeavor, I was daunted by the commitment to sit zazen every single day for a year. That is becoming increasingly less of a concern. Interestingly, getting OFF my cushion is becoming a challenge. The world does not seem to be adjusting itself to accommodate my burgeoning awakening. People can still be - well - shitty. Narcissistic, mean-spirited, impatient, aggressive, judgmental and stupid. Sometimes loving kindness is a stretch for me. I don't mean the yoga kind of stretch, either. I mean the never-gonna-happen-in-this-lifetime-will-I-feel-accepting-of-you kind of stretch. I struggle the most with judgmental people. I can be exceedingly judgmental toward people who judge.

It is one thing to sit in the safety of my home, perched on my cushion, calmly breathing while reciting the Heart Sutra. It is another thing entirely to maintain a posture of compassion while navigating the melee. Perhaps I am frequenting the wrong strata of humanity, but it feels like "the masses" are populating with greater impetus than the enlightened. Visible culture tells me that the rate of devolving trumps evolving on any given day. I don't understand it. I have been sitting for 69 consecutive days, and blogging like a madwoman. How can the world not have noticeably bettered itself??

I have an escalating conviction that meditation is the right thing to do. Not "right" exclusively in the moral sense, nor "right" as judged by some arbitrary Approval of Behavior committee. An inner sense of autonomous certainty has taken root within me. This is not to be confused with righteous indignation. Sitting just feels like a means through which I may move closer to my origin. It seems to be a mechanism for staying the course -- whatever the course may be. My mantra of late has been, "Just sit." I'm expending a lot less energy on quieting the monkeys or watching for my mind and body to fall away. It is very odd to focus on not focusing, but that's the best I can describe my practice right now. When my ego conceptualizes my task as "just sit," it is considerably less daunting. In fact, it becomes tempting to just sit all day long. I must remind myself that the Buddha got up from beneath the bodhi tree. He walked the world; he didn't always "just sit."

Mastering "no expectation, no attainment, no thought, no feeling" on the cushion is cake compared to compassionately participating in the everyday world. Surrendering ego for 25 minutes an evening hasn't yet resulted in my ability to chuck it altogether while I dodge the inevitable thrusts and jabs of daily life. Like the Buddha, I will sit AND walk. Sit AND walk. Keep moving among the masses. What else can we do?

Gassho,
CycleBuddhaDoc