There is the thought, in zen belief systems, of all emotions and feelings being equal.  That all is balanced, in accordance.  That all is harmonized, united with all else.

             In my on-going quest to learn the Release Lesson (so I don’t have to fucking repeat it!), I very much strive to get there.  I practice calming, breathing, re-centering.  I look with kind eyes, and I hear with an open heart.

             At least, that’s the idea.  That’s where I want to be.  In reality, I stumble.  I falter.  I fall down.

             But see, that basic tenet, of all being in balance, says that my rough patches are exactly part of what keeps me engaged with the teachings.  In my failures, there are successes.  In my pain, there is growth.

             And truly, I love that aspect.  I so enjoy the knowledge that with each shard of stabbing grief, there is an equally intense draping of joy.  That when we are immersed in sorrow, we can then pass through it into happiness.

             Even as I question why this part of the journey took nearly 60 years, I also realize with full understanding that it HAD to take this amount of time.  Partly because time is meaningless.  But also, because this is where I’m supposed to be right now.

             During the course of this (and mostly any) life there have been painful years, ignorant years, rage-filled years, starvation years.  Were there opportunities missed, mistakes made?  Was I supposed to move through that piece of the road in that way, in order to fully appreciate what came after?

             There is no way for us to answer any questions like this here, wearing these bodies.  On days when the low is stronger than the high, in moments of pain and sorrow, it seems to not take quite as much effort as it previously did to find my path, to get back on course.

             As I sit with the feelings, both sides of them, I attempt to witness my balance.  To be present in the journey.  I come here, I go to work, I share what I have learned, what I am learning.

zen and balanced

             The above is from Jack Kornfield, who first brought this concept to my attention.  If we can stop for one brief moment, each day, regaining our balance, we will have given ourselves the gift of intention.  What I’m finding is that, this present experience, this right now, has value.   Let’s treasure it.

Today’s Sharing:

is what I’m listening to.





2 thoughts on “Seeking, Finding, Being

  1. Ah, yes, the lessons. The one I’m working on is “be here now” and not worrying about where I want to go/should be elsewhere/where I was. I shall try to not wish, too hard, for the coming of spring.

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