After spending a hundred or so dollars on whatever Whole Foods could throw at my illness, I finally dumped 120 dollars on a prescription to tamaflu. 12 hours later, fever broke. I should mention that actually I did nothing, my partner Lauren did all of this, just asking me here in there if I concurred, and I'd grunt or nod or ask for another cold damp cloth.
I came to about a day ago, although yesterday I woke up and went to Zazen and almost threw up during the 9 bows. A recurring urge to run kept me distracted as I tried to pay attention to the new role of Jisha I'll be taking up soon.
I was so enthusiastic about being Jisha, about priest training, zen training, and this-Jisha- is one of the training roles, and where's my heart? Clouded.
Lauren and I are feeling the crunch. For two years we've been attending to the schedule and the community. Green Gulch is about undergo a vast renovation and housing is crunched, so we are crammed into what would be reserved for one person. It's cute, except sometimes when you move your pillow you hit the lamp and break the light bulb.
I don't know, I just don't know. Married monastics? Am I supposed to be sexy in this black robe? Am I supposed to change out of it into something smart and take my partner for a night on the town?
What happened during that fever that made me feel crushed, so crushed I wanted out? I guess it started a while back. As I walked down our dark tree covered road I had two thoughts: what is it to be human and am I studying the self right now, this cranky self.
To be honest, what I want today is some space. I want a room with a desk in it. I want my partner nearby, and I want her to have some space, too. And she can have a little car to go where she wants and I want a motorcycle, black and fast. How's that for practice?