The Zen Master's Dance - 4 - Fukan Zazengi (to p. 23)

[Jundo]

I know I'm late, and I'm catching up. When my parents recently moved to Tampa, the first emotion that came to me was how old they looked. In my mind, they were still the parents of my youth; I'm sure I'm still their little child to some extent. Very early on, it became an overwhelming situation. I was overwhelmed with anger toward them; I was overwhelmed with my own mortality; I was overwhelmed with sorrow for them and stress and worry. They moved here without a plan, on a whim. There is a lot of other stuff going on as well with my Dad's health.

I have never felt more helpless. Then something interesting happened; I literally dropped my expectations. I dropped it -and made myself face how they are, who they are, not who I want them to be. I also realized they need my help.

So that has become my 2nd job Initially my mom was very distraught and stressed moving here - I mean my parents are in their mid-70's so up and moving is just an incredible change. So I decided to see things from their perspective; I also realized that if they had waited for a fully fleshed out plan that it may have delayed things; having them here was the first priority, and so I think my mom was right all along.

They also got to meet their grandson, and we will be having thanksgiving dinner for the first time in 17 years; we normally visit them on christmas only; I'm an only child, and this has been a deep pain in me for so long. I cannot explain how much of a miracle and blessing it is that they are here - a literal blessing that I get to help them.

So I had to step it up and really just accept it so I could move forward. When they first came here, she was breaking down almost daily. But with patience and love, she has started healing. I think that despite not having a plan, the fact that they moved here was huge. Also I've started healing a lot.

Feeling that overwhelm was like a huge wave of stress and anxiety, but dropping it and focusing on the good little things every day and what we could do to actually move forward was huge.

We only get a small amount of time here - it's helped me put into perspective what is really important in my life. I just had to let go all of the attachment to the past.

What a miracle this life is!

Gassho

Risho
-stlah

In this mountain of words and thoughts ...

No parents, no children (only the face before all were born), no Tampa or Tokyo, no place to move or stay, no old or youth ... so who to get angry, who to get angry at? No plan or no plan, whim or whimless, sickness or health ... no Christmas or Thanksgiving ... thus each day is its own Sacred Holiday, as the universe in its health follows its own whimless planless plan whims.

All this, in a world of parents and children, Tokyo and Tampa, moving and staying, sickness and health ... etc.

Gassho, J

STLah

[Risho]

Thank you

Gassho

Risho
-stlah

[Kaishin]

Risho, you are a good son! I'm glad you are finding some peace with your family.

I hate to use the same example of Jundo, but I just had my most recent cancer surveillance checkup last week, so can relate to the fear-but-no-fear sensations of waiting for scan results.

This experience is almost impossible to explain. It's something that seeps into you over the years, I think. Waiting in the exam room, though this body was perspiring with fear and this stomach churning with anxiety, these weren't my skin or stomach. There was no skin or stomach, no scans, no doctors, no cancer ever there nor ever removed.

This very feeling of "I" or even any person to feel dissolved. I mean this literally, not in an intellectualized way, there was just "is-ness". It sounds contrived and nonsensical, and it's certainly not something experienced all the time. But these moments are real, these waves of equanimity flowing across eons of oceans. Nothing but flowing, flowing, flowing.

Nonsense!

And then the doctor opened the door and there "I" was again, panicking, holding my breath. This time, good news: still no sign of cancer after 3yrs. Tomorrow, who knows!

-stlah

[Jundo]

And then the doctor opened the door and there "I" was again, panicking, holding my breath. This time, good news: still no sign of cancer after 3yrs. Tomorrow, who knows!

Lovely! The self is something of a dream, but we want to keep this dream going and healthy as long as we can!

(I had my cancer surgery 4 years ago next month)

Gassho, J

STLah

[Onkai]

My mother had complications when after a stent was put in her heart. I was worried and upset, but didn't realize how strongly I was feeling until back home I picked up my electric toothbrush and I felt the emotions roll off of me, and there was nothing but the familiar act of brushing my teeth. It was a brief moment, and then I still felt I was losing my mother. I pm'd Jundo, and one thing he suggested was dedicating my zazen to her recovery. I realized that I hadn't been sitting for the first time in several years. Sitting was like being in the eye of the emotional storm, like there was no storm right there. I could then be fully there for my mother when I was with her in ICU. She recovered and is doing well now.

Gassho,
Onkai
Sat/lah

[Nengei]

During the first months of the COVID-19 events my elderly mother, who lives across the country from me, experienced a life-threatening after-effect from a minor medical procedure. This resulted in a helicopter transport, emergency surgery, and months of recovery with persistent effects. In our family, the usual response would be that I and one or more of my siblings drop everything and go. At that time, COVID-19 shutdowns were new. Crossing state lines was problematic. As a hospice nurse then, I was witnessing first-hand the devastation of this disease, about which little was known. Going to where my mother lived would have meant quarantining for at least two weeks on arrival. Returning home afterward would have meant the same. My siblings and I were frantically trying to figure out how to approach this situation, when our usual way was fully undermined.

So... I sat. I sat, and sat some more. And in the calm that comes with putting my mind to rest, the just-is-ness of what was going on became clear. The simplicity of the matter was that it made no sense for any of us to go. We would not be allowed to be in the hospital. We did not know how long it would be before Mom was discharged. We did not know what her disposition would be after discharge. The only option was to not know, and to let the world be what it was. We did not have a plan for much, but we did have a plan for the moment (wait, and let the medical system handle things). There were moments of frustration, disquiet, and anger, but in general, I was learning to be at peace with how things were.

Mom did recover, and while still faced with some challenges from these events, is perhaps stronger than she has been in the previous ten years. She is living in a new place (nearer to family), in a better situation (an amazing, progressive retirement community), and doing the things that she wants to do.

Gassho,
Nengei
Sat today. LAH.

[Jundo]

My mother had complications when after a stent was put in her heart. I was worried and upset, but didn't realize how strongly I was feeling until back home I picked up my electric toothbrush and I felt the emotions roll off of me, and there was nothing but the familiar act of brushing my teeth. It was a brief moment, and then I still felt I was losing my mother. I pm'd Jundo, and one thing he suggested was dedicating my zazen to her recovery. I realized that I hadn't been sitting for the first time in several years. Sitting was like being in the eye of the emotional storm, like there was no storm right there. I could then be fully there for my mother when I was with her in ICU. She recovered and is doing well now.

Gassho,
Onkai
Sat/lah

I am glad that mom is better.

Yes, at the heart of our practice (the Heart that never breaks), there are no complications or anything to put in, no worries and no upsets, nothing to brush or roll off, no storms and no eye ... the Buddha's heart is flowing clear, no need of a stent ...

... even as we need heart surgery sometimes and stents put in, get worried and upset, need to brush our teeth and feel like we are in the storm.

PS - (Don't worry and get upset about sometimes getting worried and upset!)

Gassho, J

STLah

[Jundo]

During the first months of the COVID-19 events my elderly mother, who lives across the country from me, experienced a life-threatening after-effect from a minor medical procedure. This resulted in a helicopter transport, emergency surgery, and months of recovery with persistent effects. In our family, the usual response would be that I and one or more of my siblings drop everything and go. At that time, COVID-19 shutdowns were new. Crossing state lines was problematic. As a hospice nurse then, I was witnessing first-hand the devastation of this disease, about which little was known. Going to where my mother lived would have meant quarantining for at least two weeks on arrival. Returning home afterward would have meant the same. My siblings and I were frantically trying to figure out how to approach this situation, when our usual way was fully undermined.

So... I sat. I sat, and sat some more. And in the calm that comes with putting my mind to rest, the just-is-ness of what was going on became clear. The simplicity of the matter was that it made no sense for any of us to go. We would not be allowed to be in the hospital. We did not know how long it would be before Mom was discharged. We did not know what her disposition would be after discharge. The only option was to not know, and to let the world be what it was. We did not have a plan for much, but we did have a plan for the moment (wait, and let the medical system handle things). There were moments of frustration, disquiet, and anger, but in general, I was learning to be at peace with how things were.

Mom did recover, and while still faced with some challenges from these events, is perhaps stronger than she has been in the previous ten years. She is living in a new place (nearer to family), in a better situation (an amazing, progressive retirement community), and doing the things that she wants to do.

Gassho,
Nengei
Sat today. LAH.

I am glad that mom is doing better.

No mothers no children, no old or young, no country to be across or borders to cross, no place to be transported to, no time thus no months of recovery, nothing to drop or pick up, no place to go.

And yet, mothers get sick, we must plan and go, so hard when we cannot ... months of recovery.

Gassho, J

STLah

[Seishin]

Found it very hard to remember, if in fact any happened, where I flip flop between such extremes. Life is a rollacoster so I guess you take the ups and down for granted and move on. My wife's health over the last few years could be an example but I just see it as the ebb and flow of life. Good days bad days, good weeks bad weeks. Up and down, round and round. Is what it is but daily sitting keep in some form of balance. That probably just muddies the waters but its all I can offer, even this late to the party.

Sat

[Jundo]

Found it very hard to remember, if in fact any happened, where I flip flop between such extremes. Life is a rollacoster so I guess you take the ups and down for granted and move on. My wife's health over the last few years could be an example but I just see it as the ebb and flow of life. Good days bad days, good weeks bad weeks. Up and down, round and round. Is what it is but daily sitting keep in some form of balance. That probably just muddies the waters but its all I can offer, even this late to the party.

Sat

What leaps past ebb and flow, up and down, round and round?

Gassho, J

STLah

[Seishin]

Sat (in a circle)

[Jundo]

one of my favorite songs ... French version too ...

stlah

[Tomás ESP]

This was a brilliant piece to read. I have had a similar experience with my mom's cancer situation. Everytime she goes through follow-up tests to know if the cancer has progressed or not, we both feel a deep sense of fear of dying and losing eachother. And yet at times I realize that, fundamentally, there was never any separation between "my mother" and "me" and never will be, which leaves me a radical sense of equanimity. Whatever happens, even death, it is ok

Gassho, Tomás
Sat&LaH

[Viveka]

Several years ago my wife and I camped one night at a state park on a beach near Jacksonville. Walking at night among the dunes under a full moon, I found myself quietly chanting sutras and feeling both peaceful and inspired by the beautiful setting. About a half hour after settling in the tent, two young women drove up and began setting up close by. I'm no expert, but I would guess that their poison of choice was cocaine -- the aggressive yelling and commotion made sleep difficult. Two college students camping near us suggested they keep it down since we had gone to bed. This just aroused their anger, and they screamed that they didn't give a damn, we could go to hell, etc. It turned out as well that the mother of one of them was camping nearby in an RV, and she joined the fray, yelling that she had a gun and would shoot anyone who had any complaints. I was terrified, but have to laugh as I remember being at least as indignant as frightened. The commotion lasted until 2 or 3, during which I focused intently on quietly chanting the Heart Sutra, seeing the empty nature as well as the inevitable wholeness of the situation.

As we drove away in the morning (after resisting tossing a bucket of water in their tent), I felt the fear and indignation of the night rising up again, but looking at them from the prajnaparamita perspective, they just sort of dissolved like mist, having a solid appearance, but no independent substance. As these views kept alternating, I began to think of "gate gate paragate" as an instruction: if you go past (or look through) the anger or attachment or whatever, there is clarity and equanimity. This was tremendously helpful to me, though it didn't stop me from soon falling back into my obsessive, irritable ways, but that's how it goes -- we fall down, and we (hopefully) get up again.

Viveka
st/lah

[Nengyoku]

we fall down, and we (hopefully) get up again.

We learn from falling down, and this sentence made me consider that maybe we get up so we can fall down again.

Gassho
William
Sat