Back in 'The World'.

I have returned from my period of resident monastic training. It was tough... long days (18 to 21 hours), hard work, harsh discipline... but it was, well... profound. Life-changingly so... though I suspect that it may take me some time to fully appreciate what I mean by this... I *do* feel very much transformed by the experience, however. Much as I did upon completing basic training in the military.. You are different, and you feel different, but you aren't capable of seeing the change in yourself until much after the fact for some reason.

The long hours of exhaustion, meditation, enforced silence (there is no talking, eye contact, or even noises made by rustling or fidgeting, clearing the throat, sighing, etc., allowed), and manual labor force your normally outwardly focused attention to turn inward. There is deliberately very little to no outside stimuli at all, and your mind simply turns itself inside out in search for something to do.


This can get sticky.. as you begin to confront issues and events that you would otherwise have kept well hidden away... since you have no way of escaping them, you are forced to work with them, and, hopefully, eventually to put them to rest, or, at least... to accept them for what they are, learn what can be learned from them.. put them down.. and move on.



Time becomes an increasingly abstract concept, as watches are not allowed, and there are no clocks. Commands and instructions are given through a series of sound signals; gongs, clappers and chimes, the occasional vocal command or announcement (though these are kept to a minimum..), and hand signals (also kept to a minimum).


You are left with your own mind. Your own mind stripped bare of all of its masks, all of its accoutrements, and most (if not all) of its falsehoods and facades.

It can be unattractive. Revolting. Ugly. Frightening. ... and, eventually beautiful. With work... and very strict attentiveness, a glimpse of your actual reality and substance can be marvelous in its unadulturated 'suchness'. You are just like 'this' at this very moment... but the moment is flowing and changing and morphing... and so are you!! There is no such thing as a finished human being... we are all in a constant state of flux... and, like a silk kerchief sliding off the edge of a smoothly polished table, our lives flow without hitching up on anything.. without snagging... and without hesitation... the hesitations and snags are all in our perceptions... but life flows of its own accord, whether we are capable of seeing it or not. Like writing the story of our lives on the surface of water, we are constantly coming into existence and dissolving away simultaneously... although most of us cannot see this as it is happening.

We look inward to find our past... and outward to search for our future... but past, present, and future only exist as concepts in our minds... they are all compressed into the instantly and unceasingly flowing moment of now.

To be completely here right now is to truly embrace and engage life. To be fully here, without avoiding or averting what we dislike or fear, and without constantly seeking after what we want, or what we believe that we need is to be utterly and completely alive in the world such as it is.


And then we feel a yellow jacket land on our face, or wish that we had a doughnut.. and all of that disappears in a flash and we are back in a world of our own making...


And then we start all over again!


As I was on my way back home, I stopped to put gas in the vehicle at a station in rural upstate New York. As I was walking towards the front door of the place, a burly and very scruffy looking character looked at me through narrowed eyes. He was rough-looking, in dirty clothes, a weeks growth of beard, and sporting a set of 'Billy-Bob' teeth like tombstones... each pointing in its own direction, and each a slightly different shade of an indistinct color in the gray-green-yellow-brown spectrum. He walked into the place just ahead of me, and as I turned to look behind me, holding the door for the person I could hear coming after me, I saw a very large lumber-jack looking fellow in rubber waders, and a torn up green janitorial shirt, with a lantern jaw and piercing blue eyes. (He wouldn't have looked particularly out of place dressed in wolf pelts with a horned helmet and a huge ax in his large gnarly hands.)


There were a number of other equally troublesome-looking types inside the place, all looking at me.


(Fuck! Here we go!) I thought, as I approached the counter and got into line.


'Teeth' turned around to look me boldly in the face, and fully expected some type of challenge to issue forth...


He smiled a huge smile.. with those teeth of his... then jerked his chin towards the window on the far side of the building through which a large lake or pond was visible, and said, "At leasht shomebody is having shome fun! Them Geeshe shure are beatiful to look at!"


I looked where he had indicated, and flock of Canadian Geese were flapping and frolicking in the water, and they were, indeed, very, very beautiful to look at!!


I looked back at my friend, with new eyes, and returned his frank, open, innocent, and completely unassuming smile.. sharing and enjoying the moment with him. We conversed for a few moments, he told me that he had just finished cutting acres of hay, and now he was on his way to cut acres of grass.

The lumberjack cut in, asking me if I was one of the Zen Monks. I admitted that I was, and he smiled a huge smile, offered his hand, and said, "I always wanted to actually meet one of you folks, but I've always been shy about just walking up and trying to start a conversation... do you like being a monk?? Is it hard?? Can anybody do it??"

Once again, my perceptions were turned on their head by the reality of the situation, and spoke with him for a little while. Other folks offered their comments and smiles, and soon it was time for me to pay the cashier and head out.. to a chorus of "Safe trip!" and "Take care, now!" and other well-wishes... from total strangers.


I could not have been more mistaken in my pre-judgment of these people if I had tried. My instant judgment of these people was entirely based upon my own pre-existing attitudes, opinions, preferences, and aversions... rather than upon the reality of the situation.


I am grateful to life for being such a wonderful teacher... and to my Zen practice for giving me the clarity and calmness of mind (some of the time) to recognize the teaching when it takes place.

I may have been transformed by my experience during this training retreat.. but, as I drove towards home down the highway, surrounded by mountains covered in the spectacularly vibrant autumn greens, golds, oranges, reds, and browns.. under an impossibly high and freshly scrubbed sky, It occurred to me that, clearly, life wants me to know that there is much more in store for me to learn before it is all over.


I am always and constantly arriving...