"Draw close to that which inspires you"

The advantage of being unemployed is the availability to visit various monasteries and hermitages...at least while I have the funds remaining to do so. I returned a short while ago from Abhayagiri Buddhist Monastery in California, which was a wonderful and insightful visit.

Before I went, I had been looking into other communities for future residence, or even just for spending more time in the future. In my search, I kept returning to the unequaled inspiration I've had in Luang Por ("Venerable Father," in Thai) Pasanno at Abhayagiri. At the beginning of this recent visit, I mentioned to two friends that If I were a soldier in a war, and Luang Por was the commanding officer, I would go into any battlefield he asked me to.

Now as a Buddhist, I've long since given up my military leanings, and have no desire to harm any being (not even cockroaches). But I realized that there is a war of sorts against ignorance and defilements. Given that, I couldn't think of anyone I would rather have giving me guidance through that effort.

So towards the beginning of my visit, I asked for advice in being a "stealth nun" out in the world: maintaining a monastic life and practice as much as possible. Among other things, his advice was "Draw close to that which inspires you". And I realized....I was doing exactly that. Of course there are many other monastics who also inspire me as well, but coming to Abhayagiri felt like coming home.

My visit there was also a boost of community. Having the support of so many other practitioners was like having a warm snuggly blanket of Dhamma wrapped around me. I'm still feeling its warmth.

After this visit, and with the approach of fall, there is a continued sense of viriya. As Luang Por suggested, I look at all the leaves on the ground. Once they were living, now they're gone. Husks of what they were. As we will share the same fate, what is there to do but practice?

Red leaves on the ground,
Skeletons as we will be.
What were their worries?

Do not delay, or else you will regret it later

I've just returned from another ten-day retreat. It was a boost to my practice, but not in the way I was expecting (like so many things).

The place that I visited has been in my mind as a place of future residence; where I would someday ordain. I love the women there, but I have had some recent doubts as to whether or not it would be a good fit. Of course I'll visit again, and my mind may change...again. But right now, I'm not sure what will happen. Due to current circumstances, it would be a while before I would be able to join the community, and a lot can happen in the meantime.

But the visit helped greatly in another regard. I realized that I've been stumbling along a bit, waiting for this magical moment of joining a monastery or hermitage so that my practice could begin in earnest. In the meantime, I've been sort of trudging along in my practice, getting blown a bit here and there by prevailing winds. This time I had a real citta sensation that my practice can't wait. The ordination may not happen. But my real regret if I died tomorrow, would not be so much that I didn't ordain, but rather that my practice thus far had not borne much fruit. So I realized that my practice needs to begin in earnest....right now. Working towards the end of suffering with diligence at this and every moment. So the trip has provided a great boost of spiritual energy in unexpected ways.

I still plan to live in a community at some point, but my practice won't be waiting until that happens.

Take These Buddhist Wings And Learn To Fly

These last few weeks have been abounding in teaching. I am sometimes a slow learner, but the lessons are starting to kick in.

While I have been looking forward to the move to Pennsylvania, I have been battling with a sense of loss. The Sangha and lay community have provided an abundance of support to me over the last few years. I will remain in contact with many of them, but the physical space apart means a loss of many wise examples.

Like Ananda, I have wept over the impending separation from guides, friends, and teachers. And, like Ananda, I am also reminded by the Buddha: "Have I not already told you that all things that are pleasant and delightful are changeable, subject to separation and becoming other?". In the past, I had felt sorry for Ananda for not understanding this, yet here I've been in the same place. I know it's all impermanent, but it doesn't mean I like it...darnit!

But through reflection, reading the Dhamma, and talking with other spiritual friends and Sangha members, what I'm realizing is that the sense of loss will probably continue to arise from time to time, but will also pass.

I also realized that this is probably just what I need. Like a baby bird learning to fly, it's time to take the guidance and examples I've received over the past few years and put them to the test: it's time for that first flight.

I may not have the Sangha in close proximity, but I will still have the Buddha and His teachings. I will also have the Sangha with me in the practice that they have helped me to cultivate.

As I was also reminded recently. "Wherever you go, there's your practice". There will be new twists and turns to learn, new patterns to master. But after this last week, I feel more prepared to take that first step out of the nest.

Here we go...

I'm Stuffed

As I prepared to move to Pennsylvania, I looked into renting a U-haul. $1600 to rent it, not to mention gas. I don't own enough or want to keep enough to spend that much money.

So I've been selling off furniture, often at a fraction of what I paid for it, and giving things away. My friends and family will soon be running in the opposite direction when they see me, being tired of hearing "hey, do you want....".

In the course of all this, I have really come to a visceral understanding of the futility of all this....stuff.
In this lifetime alone, I have moved nearly twenty times as an adult. Each time getting rid of stuff, getting more stuff. How many hours of my life have I spent working for the money to buy stuff, shopping for stuff, buying the stuff, taking it home, taking care of stuff, all to sell it or give it away. What was the point? What a waste! And how many lifetimes?

Disenchantment sets in......

SPLAT!

Metta is a word from Pali, the language of the Buddha's teachings, which is translated as loving-kindness or loving-friendliness. A common practice in Buddhism is to establish Metta towards oneself, and then outwards towards other people, and eventually towards all beings in ever-widening circles.

A few days ago while doing a half-day meditation retreat, an interesting visual cropped up: a water balloon filled with Metta. The difference being that instead of getting soaked with cold water, when hit with a Metta balloon one would be soaked in the warm feelings of contentment, health, and peace.

So I began to imagine throwing these balloons at the other people in the retreat. SPLAT! To the people walking next to me. SPLAT! To the monks leading the retreat. SPLAT! To all of the people present that day.

Then I started thinking of some people I was having difficulties with. SPLAT! A Metta balloon right at them. Until eventually in my mind, there were Metta balloons being thrown "above and below, around and everywhere".

Puerile? Perhaps. But I remained in a quiet state of joy for the rest of the retreat and onward. As I've walked and driven around my neighborhood, I've continued throwing Metta balloons at all and sundry. It's been rather fun, and so I'm sharing it with you.

SPLAT! You've been hit with a Metta balloon!

Shedding the Superficial

I deactivated my Facebook account last night.

I realized that while it really did not help to develop the deep, personal relationships I had with the people that are close to me, it supported the many superficial relationships I had with people I barely knew. Old work friends, people I'd met a few times, people I'd met on Facebook, friends of friends; people who, while I feel positively towards and wish them well, are not a regular part of my life.

The more time I have spent online lately, the more the lack of profundity on the internet becomes apparent. Perhaps I should fault myself for looking for meaning on a medium that cannot possibly fill such a requirement.

And yet here I am discussing this online. Hmmm.

I think that's all I have for today. But I will say this: I do feel quite lightened this morning, and am imagining the productive ways I can spend time usually spent reading statuses of people I hardly know.

For one who loves seclusion

I recently returned from a ten day retreat at Birken. Throughout the retreat I was repeatedly moved by the force of having spiritual friends around me. In fact, May has been a month filled with spiritual friendship; with visits from the nuns of Aloka Vihara, then Ajahn Sucitto from Chithurst monastery, then the retreat at Birken. By the end of the retreat, I clearly heard the calling to live in a spiritual community.

Ironically, for years I have envisioned living on my own, and still quite enjoy the solitude that living by myself brings. Yet I am finding that there is a difference between seclusion of the mind and seclusion of the body. I am seeing more and more examples of those who can be in the midst of people and yet still be at peace.

Another part of living on my own that I enjoy is having the choice of when and how to do things. Yet there is a voice inside me that is whispering that the growth in practice lies in giving that choice over to the universe. Let's face it: it's really not us who are in control. We just like to think we are.

There are still some things here to work with for a while. I have an old dog to take care of until it's time for her leave this life. My son and daughter-in-law are in the local area for now - it's uncertain where they will end up next summer. I also will be working on financial preparation for future wanderings. And of course, preparing myself (if that's possible) for this transition.

I don't know at this point if this means getting ordained again, or living as a steward. My plan is to take an extended look at different monasteries and viharas in the future, and decide from there. As a teacher once said, "If you want to make the universe laugh, just develop a plan".  Keeping Lao Tzu's advice, I have no fixed plans and am not intent on arriving.