Too Much of a Zen Thing?

The practice of Zen is forgetting the self in the act of uniting with something. - Yamada Roishi in the Zen Calendar (September 6, 2006).

Day 119. I must have really wanted to use that quote. If you noticed, it has two of "that number" in it. I'd better get used to it; the numerical date for the next 30 days has "that number" in it.

I'm not feeling the love for anything that plugs in right now. When I cut and pasted the eating disorders article into my blog last night, it altered things and looked funny when the blog published and gouged a gaping wound into my obsessive-compulsive preference for having everything look the same. I tried to edit it to be consistent with the appearance of my previous blogs, to no avail. I loathe spending time fixing things on the computer when I have no idea what caused the original defect. It's like punching air in the Land of the Lost. My level of frustration is definitely not conducive to productive problem solving. Solutions beyond "Control-Alt-Delete" elude me. I am much better at washing cups.

Today I add five more minutes to my zazen. Very cool. I think I'm ready. June got here amazingly quick. I have an inkling, however, that I need to refine this idea of "non-attachment." I've noticed that sometimes my attitude leans toward that of a trust fund surfer dude living in a hut on the sands of Aruba. Perhaps it is possible to take this non-attachment idea too far. I spent today consciously attempting to delineate what I am and am not attached to.

Here's what I came up with. I am attached to being a steadfast parent and an ethical, compassionate psychologist. I am attached to being a diligent pet owner. I am attached to being a dedicated Buddhist. I am attached to my practice of learning how not to be attached. Bizarre as it sounds, I am attached to the idea that people everywhere learn detachment. I am attached to avoiding judgment. I am attached to evolving. I am attached to learning. I am attached to caring for body, mind, and spirit. I am attached to preserving this magnificent and endangered planet.

My list of non-attachment is infinitely longer, which is simultaneously a good thing and a problematic thing. I am not attached to excessive physical beauty and the maintenance thereof. I am not attached to youth. I am not attached to clothes, jewelry, electronics, vehicles, structures that extend beyond shelter, or many other material things. I am not attached to leisure. I am not attached to constant contact. I am not attached to popularity. I am not attached to being approved of. I am not attached to homogeneity in religion, ethnicity, sexual orientation, music, art, or culture. I'm not attached to the idea that others should live a lifestyle similar to mine. I'm not attached to longevity.

I'm reading over the last two paragraphs, and I've written and read the word "attach" so many times that it has lost all meaning. In my mind, I substituted the words "care about" and "value" for "attach." It seems that caring about things is congruent with loving kindness, which is quite popular in Buddhist thought. I am confused about this idea of non-attachment, though I know it is not synonymous with not caring. I'm been sitting with this confusion for several nights. It is a squirmy thing to wrestle with. Clarity is shimmering on the outskirts of my thinking brain, which generally points to a lot more time on my cushion.

This is what I've grasped so far: attachment has something to do with ego investment in certain outcomes and products, i.e. you cling to your own preferred version of Reality. Caring is a process - an ongoing effort and authentic commitment. Caring recognizes Reality for what it is, accepting that the Big R will unfold unstoppably as it is going to, regardless of our preferences.

I may have just answered the question posed in the blog title. The Zen Thing is to care deeply about certain things without becoming attached to the outcome of my caring. It's the process of _______ (sitting, chanting, loving, practicing acts of kindness) on which I must direct my attention and energy. I don't think there could ever be too much of that.

Gassho,
CycleBuddhaDoc