He likes the sitting, at least at first. It does calm him, as it is supposed to, and he knows he needs calm in his life. Even his knees accept the stillness for a while. Soon enough they begin to question the wisdom of this practice. Good for him, maybe, but hell for them, regardless of the position, lotus, seiza, chair. Hurt a bit less, hurt a bit more, but hurt certainly. He can ignore his knees longer and longer each time, but he knows that sooner or later he will give up, when the silence becomes deafening.
She only wants to know
what lies deep within silence.
He says he imagines it
is a place he can never visit
locked away from humans,
whose minds deny the quiet.
She says she is willing
to continue the search,
for even if she cannot find it,
she may find something like it,
and that respite would
be sufficient for her.
He says he fears silence,
for the loss of all
of his delusions would be
far too much for him to bear.
The cat is curled
on my zabuton,
and stares up at me
only long enough
to say, “now
would be a good day
to test Buddha’s advice –
that you can sit almost anywhere
and still your mind.
So look around
I have left you
the rest of the room
and your sitting bench,
and if that isn’t nirvana
I don’t know what is,
but do be quiet
for its time
for another nap.”
There is much
you would ask
and so little
he would tell you.
But at the moment
that you fall silent,
when your last question
and you have no request –
in that moment
the Buddha will speak
freely and provide
to unthought-of questions.
If you wish to find true wisdom
where do you begin to look?
Everywhere you look is the wrong place,
for true wisdom is everywhere.
If this confuses, first look for yourself.
Where will you find yourself?
If you say in the mirror, all
will laugh for the mirror is
nothing more than reflective glass.
Are you reflective glass?
So I ask again, where
can you find yourself.
The task is easy if you
realize there is no self
and no-self is yourself,
for you then have found true wisdom.
A reflection on case 68 of the Book of Equanimity>
The hardest thing of all
is that there is no one to entreat,
no one who has to sort the infinite
voices, note who requested what
so that delivery of the prayers, the few
that warrant granting, go
to the correct person, particularly
given that there is no system in place
to track the whims of the grantor.
Still, you take to the mat,
fold your legs, or tuck them
under the sitting bench, and unfocus
hoping those wishes will slip away
on a sea of intervening thoughts,
and there will be, just for a moment,
nothing at all, and that, you know,
would be as close as you get to everything.
He was never one to go searching.
It took up too much time.
It certainly took far more effort
than the results usually warranted.
And there wasn’t anything in particular
he wanted to go in search of.
She said she was searching for ecstasy.
He said he could buy it downtown,
but it had grown rather pricey.
She said she meant that state of being,
that state of spiritual perfection.
He said you couldn’t buy that downtown,
though there were a couple of pastors
in the suburbs who claimed to be able,
for a proper donation, to provide it.
She said she couldn’t pay for what
was promised in the Bible,
she would simply search and wait.
She had faith.
He said he had searched
for faith once, and failed.
That, he said, was when
he gave up searching for things.