Eyes open.. beside me my wife dreams. I am warm under the covers... the room is still slightly dark, and a cool breeze is washing through the room. Casting aside the blanket, I get up and head for the bathroom to wash up and brush my teeth.
I quietly make my way downstairs and put on my monastic vestments in silence.
As I step outside and close the door behind me, a mourning dove coos somewhere in the distance. The air is still cool and the grass and leaves are moist with dew. I can feel the cool breeze on my ankles and on my face and head.
As I make my way to the Zendo, the morning is brightening slightly... I hear birds singing in a cacophony of mixed calls; mocking birds, the twitter of sparrows, wrens with their 'tea kettle - tea kettle' calls... I can hear a woodpecker working away at the trunk of a tree, in search of some particularly plump and tasty morsel hidden within.. more doves, a lark, and over the top of it all the raucous screeching of jays and crows, competing to see whether they can drown one another out.
As I enter the Zendo, I bow in greeting to one of the other monks who is the Jikijitsu, or timekeeper for the time being (we change offices from time to time, each person having a chance to fill various offices. I am Shoji these past months; It is my job to prepare and serve tea to the monastic/lay practitioners during our formal tea ceremony, and to see to the welfare of each member. The Jikijitsu and Shoji together are the two disciplinarians of the Zendo; The 'Jiki' is the 'Father figure' - harsher and more strident in doling out corrections and in redressing those who breach temple etiquette, whereas, the Shoji is the gentler 'Mother figure' who assists, encourages, and gently but firmly insists upon compliance with temple rules of conduct and etiquette. This 'Yin/Yang' pairing has been used in Zen Temples for over a thousand years... molding and shaping the minds of seekers who follow the Zen path.
Without a word, we set about preparing for the morning sitting. Once everything was just as it should be, the Jiki went to his place in the Zendo and sat. As Shoji, I remained standing by the entrance to greet and direct latecomers.
At the appointed time, I lit a stick of incense, and quietly entered the Zendo, approaching the Jiki, and bowing, then, after ceremoniously presenting the stick of incense to him, bowing again and exiting the Zendo while Jiki began to open the formal portion of the sitting. As he did his bows and prostrations, I slowly tapped out the ritual patterns on the 'Han' - the wooden block drum that calls the monastic community to the Zendo for formal Zazen, or seated meditation.
We sat, and chanted, the occasional chime and gong marking a counterpoint to the constant beat that I drummed on the Mokugyo, or wooden fish. After the chanting ended, we quietly assumed the formal sitting position for our meditation.. the monks moving fluidly, and silently, wasting very little movement... and the three chimes tapped out on the Inkin, or hand chime marked the beginning of the first sitting. The room was absolutely silent; there is no moving, adjusting, or scratching permitted during the formal sitting period - this is where the rather harsh and austere monastic discipline takes over. As the time passes, legs go numb, or cramp.. backs ache, and itches worry away - daring one to try to quickly scratch them away.. This mirrors life, where difficulties crop up at regular intervals to try to throw us off of our track. This is a lesson in impermanence, where we learn to develop an accommodating heart that is capable of enduring these periodic difficulties without succumbing to aversion or distaste, or panic, or overblown reaction... just as everything else in the cosmos, the difficulties arise and then they fade... and we learn that we don't necessarily have to 'do' anything about them! And, so learning, we are freed from the hold that they have over us... at least for now!
After a period of Kinhin, or walking meditation, we began the second sitting period.. after which we set to our assigned tasks during the silent work period, which is also part of our daily practice.
After the Jikijitsu and I cleaned and restored to Zendo to its former neat appearance, we stepped out into the bright sunshine, bowed, and thus ended another morning practice.
As I walked through the gate to my cottage, the sun was just peeking over the trees, painting the landscape gold with its rays. The birds were in full swing now, and the flowers that had been closed tightly in sleep as I left, were opening their faces to the new day!
Time for Coffee and 'Sunday Baroque'!!
May all sentient beings be peaceful.
May all sentient beings be happy.
May all sentient beings be safe.
May all sentient beings awaken to the light of their true nature.
May all sentient beings be free.
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