Friday, September 4, 2009

Showing Up and Impermanence

Showing up.

This morning I got a late start.

At first I thought I was getting an early start by getting up at 5:15 a.m. with my husband. But after some work around the kitchen, the fatigue from a poor night's sleep and the thought of my two-year old grandson coming for the holiday weekend, I headed back to bed. This would be my nap since I had other things to do later today.

I rise from sleep the second time today at 9:45 a.m. After getting a cup of cocoa, I start my practice of sweeping the patio outside for meditation. This is done on nicer days. The breeze was working against the sweeping. I notice the mortar breaking up between the stones in some spots. "What am I doing?" I ask myself, as I notice that my sweeping was missing leaves. "Sleepwalking?" I answer to myself.

I prepare the meditation spot by placing a candle on a wooden box holding kindling and a bird's nest. I put my mat on the patio facing east. Chimes and a book I read from sit beside the mat.

I bow to the east, the south, the west and then the north before sitting on my mat. I ding the chime once.

The book I'm reading from is called Wabi Sabi: The Art of Everyday Life by Diane Durston. The section I read from is called Impermanence.

Two of the quotes really resonate for me:

To what shall I compare this world? To the white wake behind a ship that has rowed away at dawn? - Priest Mansei

A ruin is not just something that happened long ago to someone else; its history is that of us all, the transcience of power, of ideas, of all human endeavors. - George Schaller

My minds drifts into deep thinking: Yesterday many of my friends and family posted a notice on their Facebook sites to give attention to the need for accessible healthcare in the United States. I am too tired for this fight. I've heard analysts talk about how the reform is about all the stakeholders, except the patient or the consumer. I have lots of thoughts about this around who is in power, who controls the dialogue, what ideas are missing from the public conversation, and how when one is in the midst of an illness insurance often adds to the problem, not help.

A female hummingbird hovers by the feeder to my right. I hear first the rapid quiet buzzing of her wings. Then I see her shadow by my mat. Her wings flutter so fast that the shadow looks larger than she really is. I look for her in the light. Oh, there she is. She is not much more than three feet from my shoulder.

I worry that she might come closer. Why, I think, am I worried about whether a hummingbird would hurt me? What am I so afraid of?

But she moves away to drink from the nectar nearby.

How old is she? Will she be back next year? In a few weeks, the hummingbirds will be gone for the winter.

I shift my eyes downward in front of me, trying to relax my gaze. I remember the sweeping of the stone on the patio and relish the thought that I am now trying to sweep thoughts and attachments out of my mind. Even though the dirt and leaves blow back in my mind, the act of sweeping polishes the stone.

This feels like a sacred act of participating and witnessing wabi sabi - recognizing the impermance of the world, but living in it respectfully anyway, seeing it for the deep imperfect beauty that is always there. I did not make the stone so beautiful. The stone was organic material heated and crushed over eons. Humans cut it; use it to build a patio; people walk on it; I and others sweep it.

My act over a lifetime won't make an impact. But I think of the sacred sites around the world with stone worn by pilgrims, wearing the stone down, creating a path for others to follow. This is very slow and invisible work shared by many.

With this deep thought, I look at my wooden box and realize that I forgot to light the candle. Do I get up and light the candle or let it go. Would this count as a proper meditation if I didn't light the candle? I catch myself going down the path of beating myself up over this and attempt to let it go. The sun will have to do as the meditation candle for today.

Soon enough, the chimes ring three times. It is time to pack up and start the day, again.

I laugh. I do not know what to make of these pieces of impermanence, human endeavors, a hummingbird, forgetfulness and showing up.

No comments:

Post a Comment