Try-Umph!

Triumph is what happens when you put the "Umph" into "Try." - Marquee at the Central Church of Christ in Moore, Oklahoma (December 2, 2010).

Day 303. Brief blog tonight. There seems to be a lengthy term paper in my e-mail awaiting my editorial comments. Apparently, it is due in the morning. I could give a certain college sophomore the stereotypical, "Don't Wait Until the Last Minute" lecture, but: a) he clearly has done just that, and b) I am paying way too much for these classes for him to take one twice. Besides, he is soon to be an upperclassman majoring in Accounting. There can't be many classes left in which I can possibly be of assistance. If memory serves, I had a hard time grasping T-Accounts.

After speaking at a state conference this morning, I was driving home on I35 and glanced over at the marquee of the Central Church of Christ in Moore. Gassho to whoever selects the messages for their sign. I have been partaking of these sage proclamations for over a decade on my numerous forays between Oklahoma City and Norman. About ninety percent of them are original, witty, and thought provoking. I enjoy them immensely, though I will probably never set foot within the actual interior of a Church of Christ. However, history has taught me to never say, "Never."

I'm not sure whether or not the congregation at the Central Church of Christ would find it complimentary if I use a quote from their sign to exemplify a wonderful statement of Zen. I sincerely mean it as such. The sentiment was exactly what I needed today. My practice could use some "umph." I always feel it necessary to execute a Blog Confession when I look at my timer before it sounds (the Central Church of Catholics would probably find that quite complimentary!) This occurs every 50 zazen sessions or so, but last night was the most humiliating of all.

I had been sitting for what felt like 18 hours, when - without a moment's consideration - I collapsed my mudra, slumped on my cushion, and rebelliously grabbed the timer. I was utterly convinced that it had sounded and I simply couldn't hear it from the distance I had traversed in my quest for Nirvana. According to my oh-so-accurate timer, 15:09 remained of my 40 minutes of sitting. FIFTEEN MINUTES AND CHANGE. I was shocked and chagrined. How could that be? I had been there for . . . well, forever! For about 30 seconds, I remained slumped and disheartened on my cushion. A deep sigh issued from where my mudra usually rests, reliably guiding my breath. An expression of frustration and insurrection tugged the corners of my mouth into an exaggerated frown. This was followed by a pout, which quickly reversed into a grin as the absurdity of my insolence crept over me. I reformed my mudra, straightened my spine, drew a breath, and resumed the posture inviting my true nature. I remained motionless until the timer sounded, then stayed that way for an additional 30 seconds, just for good measure.

And today I am reminded by God (and the good folks at the Church of Christ) to put some Umph into my Try. Amen to that. The irony is that the very best sitting doesn't even require much actual trying. I just need to sit there and try not to think. Which, when you have Monkeys as robust as mine, does require a little Umph. I forgot that for about 30 seconds last night, but the good thing about 302 days of consecutive sitting is that when I fall off my cushion, I dust myself off and get right back on. Which makes me just a little Tryumphant.

Gassho,
CycleBuddhaDoc