One of the things I really enjoy about practice is that it helps me to see the continuously dynamic nature of practice. Phrases like "You can never step into the same river twice" point to it, but do not capture it. Every moment, the universe is changing. This means that all of it is changing - the actual cosmos, this planet, myself, the stuff in the fridge that I am pretty sure is meat. As well, since my understanding and view is continually developing, even if the world could stay static, the mind that perceives it keeps changing.
I enjoy the fact that I can reread a book or a poem and get something completely new out it. And if what I see is not actually new, it is different angle or a subtle shift of the same thing. The reflection that put me on this train of thought was something from a talk given by my teacher Rinsen.
At the conclusion of a retreat, Rinsen Osho spoke on the practice of Zen and Seshin in terms of "Meticulous Kindness". Coming at the end of a seshin, I was well primed for the "kindness" aspect of the talk. In Seshin, so much focus is put into zazen as the study of the self, that all aspects of practicing our lives get magnified and amplified. This is true of both the joys and the difficulties. Having a track record of being hard on myself for my failures, the message helped me to take these difficult moments when I might feel I have fallen short, and accept them lovingly WITHOUT giving in to them. In addition to helping me to view all of my experiences as precious parts of my life, I began to feel more whole than I have in my adult life.
However, all good teachings are like an enormous and detailed painting. There are so many places to look, and each one offers a beautiful and dynamic reality, unified and coexisting with the whole image. Feeling safe in the "kindness" aspect of meticulous kindness, I find I am now focussing more on the "meticulous" side. In the security of the integrated whole, I am starting to notice so many opportunities to turn up the heat on practice.
The heat that is arising would have crushed and discouraged me three years ago. These days it has the flavour of a dance. I still misstep in this dance, and in fact I catch myself more readily these days. In seeing my snags, it was once along the lines of "Dang, I did it again!" today it often feels more like the "Aha! there you are" of finding a child while playing hide and seek. This is a dance of life and death.
I remain increasingly grateful for this practice and all I encounter in it.
Go too far to one side and it is too slack. Go too far to the other side and it is far too damning. Be meticulous and be kind
