Full moon, caring, & doing what you must

I haven’t posted for awhile, but I’ve been writing a great deal.  I’ve actually been reflecting and writing on the precepts, in an effort to own them in some way: what do these vows mean to me?  In the morning I’ve been sitting with them, and as something arises, I write it.  From a state of contemplation, I gain awareness of what I cannot see just by thinking about the words on the page.  A warm feeling will arise… “Ah, this is what not lying means to me...”  Not lying may sound obvious, like a law, but as a law it is not very subtle, not rich, there is nothing to investigate within the self. Writing is a way to begin to make the precepts my own flesh.  But I found myself not wanting to post those reflections.  Perhaps I should despite the fact that they still sit in their cocoon.  After all, I originally started this blog for that purpose – to portray a practice in the making. 

Those posts will come later.  There were many things I wanted to write about this week, but I think I’ll let them go. 

This has been a beautiful and tough night.  The full moon ceremony, where we reaffirm our vows, was wonderful.  Prior to the ceremony, we broke up into small groups and discussed the precepts we’ve been working with.  I said, “I’m not sure if this relates to the precepts.  But a month ago I parted ways with a woman I had developed a deep care for.  Something clicked last week and I felt fine about that separation.  I felt like I could care for her, deeply, as a friend.  I had this feeling that as friends, we could sit with the desire and pain together – in other words, continue to care for each other, continue to be integral to one another’s lives.  I had this image of shifting from being lovers to dharma sisters and brothers.   But this is not possible for her.  And so I find myself struggling with letting go of that desire to care.  I don’t want to walk away from wanting to care for her.  I want to let myself continue to want to love her in this way.  At the same time, I feel I have to let go of that beautiful desire.  I don’t know if this desire relates to the precepts or not, but this is what I wanted to say.”  I truly appreciated the response: “Some say that all of the precepts are contained in zazen.  So in sitting with this you are living with the precepts.”  I bow to these words.       

From there we went to the Buddha Hall.  Because I was one of the last to enter, the tatami mats were full, so I had to kneel and prostrate on the hard tiled floor surrounding the tatami mats.  I wasn’t the only one, but everyone else on the tiles put cushions under their knees.  I decided not to.  As I made the first prostration on the hard ground, I considered that my knees would suffer from the many prostrations to come, and I simply thought, “today I will just feel the hard ground.”  My knees certainly started to hurt, but it felt right to me.    

Walking out of the Buddha Hall, I turned my phone on, and noticed I had a message.  It was my mother.  My brother was going through a major crisis in Denver and she was hoping I could get on a plane tomorrow morning and help him move back to California.  There really was no other option, so that’s what I’ll be doing tomorrow.  Fresh from hearing that, and various painful details I won’t share here, I went out to dinner with a friend from the Zen Center who I’ve been hoping to get to know better.  Numerous times during dinner I had to talk with my mother, and then my brother called me from the hospital where he was detoxing.  Somehow, we were able to have a lovely dinner together, and I was even happy that she was present with me in such a bare, revealing situation.  I cut the evening short and went home to talk more with my brother, who I’ll see tomorrow at 4PM in Denver.  After saying goodnight, I experienced that terribly masculine phenomenon of not being able to cry although my soul was screaming out for it.    

Wrote this post quickly and almost didn’t write it at all.  Very glad I did.  All the best to whoever reads it.  I hope everyone finds ways to care deeply for one another, even when it is difficult.