Impermanence

1. I woke too early. The sky, just growing light, was solidly overcast and cool. I lay in bed for a good while, listening Morning Edition, petting Aanakin, frankly dreading the day because I sometimes do.

There's been no rain for ages. I last watered the gardens Thursday evening. Out went Anakin and me, hose tap on, a good soaking for the chard, tomatoes, green beans, herbs, celery, onions and peppers. A little ball, a little dog leaping to make the catch. Breakfast, 'pecial K (with a nod to toddler Evan) and blueberries, orzo and chicken for the dog currently bland dieting.

To follow: Email. Job. Zendo. The final stitches on this rakusu. Zazen. Somewhere in there, the dread will probably turn to something else, the way the early morning sky is clearing now.

2. youtube.com saves the day. After the Beatles, after Ray Charles singing "What I'd Say" after Van Heylan (sp?) singing "Jump," I listened and watched the Isley Brother, "Shout." After the splits, after the backup brothers whose upper bodies move with no reflection of each other but whose lower bodies are in perfect synch, after recognizing in their footwork the way my brother and I dance, I had a really nice day.

3. Jane placed a half dozen dots on the mineki, the tab that hangs from the rakusu straps at the back of the neck. Then she directed me as I made the stitches--a dozen?--to "draw" the pine branch, the mark of our Soto Zen lineage. Then it was done, and I put this blue rakusu in the case I sewed for it, and I stood in front of Jane and presented it to her, exchanging bows, and noting, I believe, in the way we looked into each other's eyes, our shared love for the Dharma and our gratitude for these years of shared practice. Now she has eleven days to write and draw on the white backing, and give me my Japanese jukai name, and return it to me when I take the precepts on the 14th.

Then we had dokusan (face-to-face meeting to discuss my practice) and I told her something I realized only minutes before: Jane has stronger equanimity than I do. "That's good," she said, not because she wouldn't wish great equanimity for me, but because it's good for me to have her maturity for company, for inspiration.

4. Tonight Patty gave her third talk on compassion, focusing on her many years of hospice work. The open heart of compassion. She must have said that four or five times in the last six or eight minutes of her talk. The open heart of compassion. The heart unencumbered by ego. Imagine.