Wholehearted Seeking

In Zen, the effort and the result are not two different things, the means and the goal are not to be separated, the finding occurs in the very seeking itself. For ultimately, what is sought is the wholeness of the seeker, and this emerges only in the wholeheartedness of the seeking. - Bernard Phillips in the Zen Calendar (December 10, 2007).

Day 251. I cannot think about writing because I am consumed with a commitment I made for tomorrow morning at 6:30 a.m. What was I thinking? And how many days ago did I blog (blah, blah, blah) about being impeccable in my word? Who thinks of this stuff? And how do I get her to stop?

The commitment was to join a Tuesday morning sangha for meditation. At 6:30. In the morning. In the dark. I received an invitation to join the group at the dojo open house I attended a couple of weekends ago. This particular group is not Zen Buddhist. They practice a form of Korean Buddhism. Their Tuesday practice involves chanting in Korean followed by sitting for thirty minutes. The person I spoke to at the open house was kind enough to follow up with me after the David Whyte video because I had asked for details when I learned the group meets just a mile from my home. He then e-mailed directions to the meeting place and shared a little more information about their group. Talk about being impeccable in word. Today I noticed that he had specifically included me in an e-mail noting a change in the meeting place. I spontaneously e-mailed back to thank him and closed with, "See you Tuesday morning."

Morning is not my prime time. In fact, I rank morning right up there with insurance companies telling me how to conduct the practice of psychotherapy, i.e. it ain't my favorite thing. At the moment, I am painfully cognizant that disclosures such as this on the blog are not my favorite thing, either. Suddenly I feel accountable to anyone who actually reads my little plot of cyberspace. At the exact point where revealing my commitment to join the group tomorrow intersects my commitment to be impeccable in my word lies the necessity of waking at 6 o'clock. In the morning. In the dark. Did I mention I am not a fan of morning?

So here I am: a commitment, a disclosure, and an alarm that is set to go off at the peak of my best REM sleep. If that is not wholehearted seeking, I don't know what is.

Gassho,
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