It's snowing up here. It's exactly what I had hoped for. Its beautiful but intimidating, too. Mainly because it means that I am stuck here and I have to focus on what I came here to do. Read. Write. think. write. Repeat. I have taken some photos of the snow but been unable to send them to Jennifer and the kids. Maybe that's a reminder to be present and experience this completely. Remember that anything done simply to share is not a genuine experience. Be here now. In the community room sitting beside the fire I just made. Looking outside it is spectacular. What an amazing opportunity this is.
The morning Zazen was particularly difficult. I started strong, but lost my focus on letting the thought clouds drift by. instead I was all over the map with thoughts coming from numerous directions. I did manage to let go when I might have otherwise been adding reminders to my long and over-though list of things to do.
The monday breakfast & meeting was a good one. It looks promising for me to meet this week with Michael, Michael, and Dan, so I can start helping with the weekly newsletter. I don't anticipate the demand being substantial and my hope is that doing this keeps me focused and engaged in my own efforts, too. The "personals" discussions were so intimate and honest and heartfelt. It's not only moving but validating to have people be as open and transparent about their lives, aspirations, and struggles. One of the people said "I don't know what's happening. Ever." I like how universal that sentiment can be. Even when we believe we do know what is happening, it's only from our own limited point of view. And no matter what, we can never really know what may happen next. Another though expressed at this round-table group-therapy of sorts was that instead of trying to be knowledgeable and a resource of Zen philosophy and practice, this person just wanted to be happy simply "being". Without effort, practice, analysis or couscous effort. They just want who they are and how they feel to be simple, genuine happiness. There was an earlier reference made, though, when discussing buolding and facilities related topics, where the comment was made that to keep up the desired condition of a particular room was not a matter of some changes that would prevent any further problems, but that people simply had to make an effort to maintain it properly. That seems to be a cornerstone of any mindful practice, be it tied to woodrot caused by water being left to seep into a floor, all the way to how our own happiness and health and our role in the lives of others also requires upkeep, awareness and conscious choices to not let something "sit and rot".
As for my own outlook, beyond the slight trepidation of feeling a bit stranded (which I had also hoped for) I am trying to not obsess with filling my time with distraction. I am so accustomed to being constantly busy, or planning, or managing, that to stop 100% is as hard as...., well... sitting Zazen.
Also, since the internet is down here now, I can not do anything beyond writing more, reading and of my downloaded book or one of the 100's in the library here, or listen to my audio books. :-)
At one point in the day as I sat in the common room reading my kindle, while Luke was reading his own book, a tall man with cloak-like clothing and a black-grey beard appeared at and entered the building. He said hello and asked if we were in need of any assistance. His name was Guidean (yes as in "bible") and he was driving to see the snow, having come up from Saratoga. He was aware of the center, having attended it some 10-15 years ago. He had a 4WD truck and thought to just stop in and check in on the occupants. What's most interesting to me is my own degree of skepticism. I have learned not to trust strangers. I used to. In my youth I was aided by strangers in various situations, yet somehow thru the years I have become conditioned to fear more than seemingly warranted. He visited a bit, had a cup of coffee, met and talked to Michael, then gently left. Only to return shortly after due to road closures. I was back ib my room at that point. He and Luke talked awhile before I returned and joined in the conversation. This guy teaches ti-chi and yogain Los Gatos, has degrees from Berkely, and translates 12th century Chinese! What an amazing random rncounter this turns out to be. Nick came to get Luke to do some other tasks and Guidean left to try once more to get down a road that is, according to Apple maps, still closed. So he may return. Their conversations are so deep and philosophical and complex. This feels at times like so many ideas and options and paths exist at levels of introspection and awareness that I simply have not "lived at". It overwhelms me. As interesting as all of these parallel and intersecting paths look, I feel a strong need to metaphorically ' 'finish the book I am already reading" before I go cracking open others.