Heavy hearted, filled with dread, I sit in the dark late afternoon, wondering when it got so dark again, not feeling up to it, this practice period, these 6 months of dark winter days less than a week away.
I've returned from my sister's wedding in Pennsylvania, where I lived off brownies and pizza and beer for 5 days. I showed up and said yes, despite the crying fit I had just before leaving Green Gulch. I said yes to the fatty food, yes to the all day flow of coffee, yes to my uncle's terminal cancer, yes to my mother's cigarettes, yes to my Grandmother's criticism, yes to my brother-in-law's campfire, yes to my little brother's bike ride through the mud, and yes to my little sister's tears.
Now I'm back at Green Gulch, saying yes to the practice period, yes to the farm for the last couple days, yes to a little vacation with my wife, yes to my ordination, yes to my teacher's absence ( I haven't heard from him in over 20 days) and actually, I don't like it.
There is one who is not so busy liking and disliking. I suppose that's the one who sits me still, to watch, and observe this cycle, to see if I can see a little more of just this.
I would like to plant and harvest, to sit zazen and study, day after day until I die, upright, in the field or the zendo. This is highly unlikely, as life moves us where it does, like a river flooding the banks, not too worried about drowning out trees or houses.