Too Much To Do

It’s been a squirrely few days for me. While the warm and delicious spring weather has melted all but the most stubborn piles of snow, I have felt overwhelmed and lost amid all the to-do lists of my life. I have lost my sense of what is most important and have been wandering in a world of a thousand equally urgent things calling out to be done.

Of course, there is always more to do than we have time to do.

Of course, this statement is not necessarily true. Or perhaps it is only true when we make certain assumptions. Perhaps any statement that presents itself as presenting the obvious truth should be approached with caution. ‘Of course’ encourages the mind to travel the familiar pathways of opinion rather than consider afresh the matter at hand. A warning sign for the careful traveler.

‘Always’ should probably be another alarm-bell for the aware reader and thinker. ‘Always’ statements can be quite comforting as they lead our mind toward the fantasyland of a dependable world that conforms to our understanding. Nothing ‘always’ happens. Some things, like the coming of spring, may happen on a fairly regular basis—we can safely plant our seeds at a certain time—except that sometimes snow comes in May as it has on occasion.

So then, what is this ‘more to do?’ Is it that my mind can always imagine things I could do? In a split second, I can imagine having breakfast, reading a book, responding to email, having a conversation with a friend and going for a walk. Yet, as I think ahead to this morning, I know I probably won’t have time to do all these things. I will, most likely, have to choose.

And what is this time that I have or don’t have to do or not to do? There is this moment of living action in which I am sitting on a brown faux-leather couch with a laptop in my lap and a cup of tea that sits patiently on the bench beside me. Is this ‘my’ time? And what about all the time I can imagine having or not having?

Today will be a ‘busy’ day. Really?

We order the world with the thoughts of our mind, and then we complain at the order of the world. There are days when I seem to ‘do’ more things than other days. Or would it be more accurate to say that some days I’m more active than others? I suppose some days even have more breaths in them than other days – when I’m moving and my muscles call for deeper breaths at a quicker pace.

But can you find busyness except in some combination of images in the mind and feelings in the body at this moment? The mind in this moment dreams my past and my future—makes infinite predictions of what will happen and what won’t happen. Each instant I am doing one thing and not another.

Now that I have thoroughly confused myself, I feel a little lighter. Today I will do some things and the things I do and the thoughts I think will be my life—the life that I create together with the world that I encounter. Sometimes at ease, sometimes feeling lost. Today, I’ll try to just follow my feet and see where they lead. I’ll ignore the opinions of the many others that reside in my head and trust the emerging moment to lead me truly.

Spring Dancing

Astronomical spring has officially arrived and yesterday’s weather, here in New England, was right on schedule—a cool morning giving way to warm sunshine and clear skies. It was the kind of day where you start off with a light jacket and then, at some point, are compelled to disrobe in response to the delicious and unfamiliar sense of the sun’s radiant warmth.

The clumps of crocus that had the good sense to be planted in south-facing locations have finally joined the snowdrops to be available to the small bees and the other ardent admirers who carefully search them out. Small splashes of purple and gold are the new and welcome decoration to the still mostly gray and brown landscape.

Out for a Sunday morning stroll, two veteran observers of spring and one small rookie ‘keep our eyes open’ and call out the sightings as they come. We walk to the edge of each garden and crouch down for a better look. We’re a good team. We wouldn’t crouch down to look closely if it was just us old folks, and our two-year-old rookie probably wouldn’t think to stop if he were by himself.

Watching for a few moments, we see the nodding white snowdrop blossoms quiver in the light breeze while the crocus stand upright with unmoved intent. Is the movement of the snowdrops a functional adaptation? Is their small white dance on a green stem a necessary device to attract the attention of pollinators (both human and insect)? Or is a slim stem simply the most efficient way to hoist aloft the reproductive organs for better access and all the wiggling without purpose? In either case, we appreciate their delicate and concerted response to the breeze we can barely feel.

Later, sitting lazily on the deck talking about things of small importance, I am overwhelmed by the unfamiliar brightness. Unused to so much warmth and sun, my head begins to ache and I go inside for a nap.

Still later, I give a Zen talk about how the ‘Dharma a thusness has been intimately transmitted by Buddhas and Ancestors’ and illustrate it with a poem by the great Japanese poet-monk Ryokan:

The wind has settled, the blossoms have fallen;
Birds sing, the mountains grow dark—
This is the wondrous power of Buddhism.

The intimate transmission is nothing but the seeing, hearing, smelling, tasting, touching and imagining of this moment and all the Buddhas and Ancestors are here with us as the earth once again dances the slow and sensual dance of spring awakening.

Saying the Names

Soon Chung Park, age 74
Hyun Jung Grant, age 51
Suncha Kim, age 69
Yong Yue, age 63
Delaina Ashley Yaun, age 33
Paul Andre Michels, age 54
Xiaojie Tan, age 49
Daoyou Feng, age 44

These are the names and ages of the eight people who were killed by a 21-year old white gun-man in the Atlanta area on Tuesday. Seven of them are women and six of them are Asian-American. On Friday, President Biden and Vice-President Harris visited Atlanta and met with Asian-American leaders in Atlanta, and spoke publically in response to this violent tragedy.

“Whatever the killer’s motive, these facts are clear,” Harris said, “the shootings took place in businesses owned by Asian Americans…The president and I will not be silent. We will not stand by…We will always speak out against violence, hate crimes, and discrimination, wherever and whenever it occurs….Racism is real in America and it has always been… Xenophobia is real in America and always has been. Sexism too.”

The President followed her remarks with messages of sympathy to the families and friends of the victims, but also with a vow: “Because our silence is complicity. We cannot be complicit,” he said. “We have to speak out. We have to act.” Biden

The swirling debate in the aftermath of these killings this past week was: were they racially motivated hate crimes, were they crimes against women or were they random acts of violence? The answer to this question has to be yes. We live in a world where gender, race, and religious affiliation intertwine. There can be no separation, we are all, all of the above.

These terrible murders call attention to the rise in violence against Asian-Americans over this past year and also to our country’s long and shameful history of racism and violence against Asians.  They are also a terrible reminder of the ongoing national and global reality of violence against women. UN Women, a United Nations entity dedicated to gender equity and the empowerment of women, estimates that ‘Globally, 35 percent of women have ever experienced physical and/or sexual intimate partner violence, or sexual violence by a non-partner. This figure does not include sexual harassment.’

Racism is real in America and it has always been… Xenophobia is real in America and always has been. Sexism too. (Misogyny—the hatred of, contempt for, or prejudice against women or girls—would probably be a more accurate term than sexism.) The degree to which these forces and fears limit us all and are embedded in the fabric of our society is becoming more and more evident.

We must stand in solidarity with all of our brothers and sisters, for our wellbeing is directly tied to theirs. We must name hatred and violence wherever it appears and do what we can to publically stand against it. We must continue to raise awareness of our complicity through our actions and inactions so that we can find ways to continue to move toward a safer and more just world for all.

The Path Back to Normal

A short walk to the lake with my grandson yesterday gave way to a longer conversation with his parents about how we’re going to handle the safety and boundaries of our COVID bubble over the weeks and months ahead. Melissa and I are scheduled for our second vaccine shots in a little over a week, then we wait two more weeks, and then comes the surprising question of post-vaccination behavior. Somehow I had imagined that all this caution and careful behavior would all be over for me after the vaccine—but that’s not the case.

After the waiting period after both shots, we vaccinated folks appear to be quite safe. While no vaccine is 100%, all the COVIC vaccines on the market greatly lower our risk of contracting COVID and also appear to guarantee us against hospitalization and death. (I’d always hoped for a ‘guarantee against hospitalization and death’, but as I looked closer into this claim it appears to only apply to COVID-related instances and does not protect us from runaway busses, falling trees or germs, diseases and morbid conditions of other kinds.)

I have to admit that even as I feel the strong urge to resume ‘normal’ activities, I have also grown quite used to how things are now. I do want to gather in our meditation hall again with real people rather than with flat images on the computer screen, but I don’t want to have to work out all the details and figure out all the things we will need to do to protect ourselves and those we go home to.

The 1.9 trillion dollar question is: ‘Can people who have been vaccinated be vectors of transmission to others who have not yet been vaccinated?’ It looks unlikely, but unlikely is not the same as a clear answer. (Or as a friend who used to teach sex education to high school students said, ‘Hope is not a method.’)

After a year of avoidance, uncertainty, and fear, how do we find our way back to some semblance of ease in each other’s presence? How do we begin to unclench our lives? Living always involves risk. And for risks below a certain threshold, most of us don’t actively worry. Each time I get in the car, there is a chance that I could be seriously injured or die. While I try to be a careful and alert driver, I don’t spend my time driving worrying about that small likelihood. How do we transfer our daily unconscious care for our human vulnerability into this new sphere of ongoing concern?

And, perhaps equally important, how do we talk together with our families, friends, and associates about how close we come and under what situations? Communication and appreciation of differences in comfort levels are critical to help us move together through this unsettling and encouraging time. ‘Too fast’ and ‘too slow’ are phrases that convey important information both about our perception of danger and our perception of reality. Both parts of the equation need to be honored.

A student once asked a great spiritual teacher, ‘How do we cross the raging torrent of the river of life?’ The teacher replied ‘By not straining and not tarrying.’

So may it be as we individually, within our families and within our various communities and nations, move beyond this fearsome pandemic. Can we together discern the middle way together? Not too fast and not too slow. Can we deepen our trust and understanding of each other as we move with determination, patience, and courage toward the ever-evolving world of full engagement that awaits us?

Grateful

1.
Too many candles now
to count on the wondrous
birthday cake that is
the life you have lived.

Born in the center
of the twentieth century
to parents whose parents
parents had traveled far to be here,

you have faithfully continued
their courageous journey
through your relentless search
for the truth of the human heart.

2.
So always this day on the cusp
of new spring rising
from the dark winter,
we remember and celebrate

you.

3.
I am happy for all
the years and stories
and wrinkles that are
our life together.

Yet beyond the two of us
you have touched many
and amended the world
with the gifts of your heart—

humor and wisdom,
clarity and compassion,
determination and doubt
all swirled together into

a confection so definite and
delicious that even after
all these years I still
smile in awe and delight.

— for Melissa, March 19, 2021