Variations on Cup Washing

Clouds come from time to time -
and bring a chance to rest
from looking at the moon. - Basho in the Zen Calendar (December 19, 2002).

Day 150. Triple Peak Experience! First, here I am writing Blog Number 150. The Big One Five Oh. I'm not sure exactly how this is significant; it's just such a nice round number. Second, I was rummaging in my closet today and found saved pages from Zen calendars dating back to 2002. I didn't realize I've had my zen quote fetish for that long. Third, tonight's quote was resting quietly on top of the stack, and it expresses exactly what I needed to say. Most of the time, I have no idea what Basho is writing about. Interestingly, the longer I sit, the more I connect with his poetry. Then again, I connect with EVERYTHING more strongly since I've been sitting regularly.

I'm taking a break from my partner. In the blog-to-movie transition, this will no doubt be pounced upon by the screenwriter. Breakups and heart pain are big sellers. Kate Hudson is beautiful even when she cries. In the real world, however, it feels much less climactic. I desire some time alone. I miss me. I'm not sure I even know who "me" is anymore, though Non-Me and I are getting much better acquainted. Neither me, non-me, or my partner could anticipate what we were in for when I began this endeavor. Who knew something seemingly as passive as sitting still on a cushion had the potential to rock my world?

Priorities are changing. I want time to read and think and not do. My "I-don't-want-to-own-anything" attitude has outlasted the "it's just a phase" theory. Clearing clutter and non- essentials has less to do with feng shui and more to do with a growing recognition that I simply don't need much. The only thing that feels better than making space is finding perfect donation sites for my non-belongings.

I more carefully consider how I allocate my time and resources. It is a lot like sifting through my possessions. The solution to owning things I no longer desire is to give them away; the answer to energy expenditure in areas I no longer desire is to shift the energy elsewhere. Enter mindfulness. I want to be fully present for the precious people in my life. Big Mind manifests everywhere: I am curious about new music and faraway places and foreign cultures.

It feels developmentally appropriate to arrive at the awareness that we don't live forever, and that "someday" is Now. Something about nearing 50 (talk about a round number!) is making me exquisitely sensitive to my feeling states, my responsibility as an inhabitant of the planet, my contributions, and my quality of life. The definition of "quality of life" changes as frequently as my pedal cadence on a hill ride, however, two truths abide: I want to get up and out of myself and I want to give back. Doing that seems most possible if I surround myself with people who are on the same path. Or at least in the same forest.

I had scheduled a four-day weekend for a trip I won't be taking. Today was the first time in over three years that I experienced the glorious, synchronous combination of time and energy. It was magical. I looked around at my little house in Norman as though seeing it for the first time. All 1,050 perfect square feet of it. I worked on my front garden and my garage and several nagging little "need-to's." Only thing is - the tasks weren't nagging at all. It was like twenty different versions of cup washing. Menial but meaningful. Concrete and tangible. Most will require doing again tomorrow. Same tasks, different taskmaster.

The words from the Beatles' song " . . . You say you want a revolution, well, you know - we all want to change the world . . ." keep reverberating in my head. Coincidence? I think not. Though what's so revolutionary about sweeping wood floors and washing dishes, I couldn't tell you.

Gassho,
CycleBuddhaDoc